THE EISERNEN


"The brutal, unforgiving nature of this world speaks to me...it feels as if it is home without being so. Even in such conditions one can find an inherent beauty to the way of things."

"Your words humble me, my Lord. Kimara is naught but frozen tundra...but maybe someday it can be truly worthy of your sentiment."

"Under the Imperium this world may yet prosper, but it is with the Iron Warriors that your potential belongs. Join us in conquering the stars, and one day you may possess the strength and mind to bring it to heel. It would not possess its natural splendor if not for its brutality, but that does not mean you cannot one day conquer it for the good of your people and use this world's very nature against your foes."

"Pledge your fealty to our cause, to Humanity's Great Crusade under His Majesty the Emperor of Mankind, and I promise you utopia, Trahaearn Jarn."

"My people owe you our very lives. From this day until my last I shall fight in service of your Legion, Captain Forrix."

Dead promises. A pact broken eons ago upon the blood-soaked soil of Olympia. Forrix had been one of the most accomplished of the Iron Warriors during the Great Crusade, but as time went on his determination would fade and give way to apathy born of disillusionment in their Legion. Jarn, his student, would undergo a different transformation in that time however.

While once content to do as he was told, be it brutal sieges or 'inglorious' work such as garrisoning the world he hailed from, Jarn's own disillusionment with the path of the Iron Warriors saw him rise to action. The fall of Olympia had been the nail in the coffin, an event which broke the once unbreakable Fourth Legion's spirit.

It was the last time Jarn had spoken to his mentor, Forrix, who had placed Jarn in charge of dealing with some of the Iron Warriors who refused to carry out Perturabo's orders to ravage the world. Forrix had made certain that many dissenters were taken care of to keep their Legion from breaking apart, but it was Jarn's belief that the Warsmith of the First Company chose him to rally those with doubts behind a common purpose.

He harnessed their disgruntled natures and forged a Company of his own from those unable to return to the commanders they had refused orders from, even seeking out Perturabo's blessing after the conflict to have these Astartes deployed away from the main fleet so that the Legion would be spared internal conflict. While their Primarch had said nothing at the time, he had given a nod and given Jarn leave to take what ships were needed to see that their forces did not descend into mutiny.

While those who carried out Perturabo's orders vastly outnumbered those who refused them, Perturabo had possessed a solemn nature after Olympia's destruction and it may have been his regrets which saw him allow for some three thousand Astartes to depart from his forces under the promise they would remain loyal to the Iron Warriors. The few thousand able to be rallied by Jarn would have been executed for their actions anyways, so either way they would be a loss to the Legion: this way at least would see them as nominal allies in the battles to come.

The Imperium had pushed the Iron Warriors to the breaking point which the rebellion upon their homeworld would then push past the point of no return, and for that Jarn had grown sour towards the government he once served. He understood the bitter rage of his fellow soldiers, and sought to channel it into a more productive end: if the Imperium would waste their lives and cast them aside then they would not be sacrificed for their ilk. That did not mean surrendering their autonomy for even harsher masters via Chaos however, and so throughout the Horus Heresy Jarn would lay siege to strategic worlds that would benefit the Fourth Legion while instituting harsh scrutiny towards his followers to prevent Chaos worship.

"Iron Within, Iron Without!"

Rows of Iron Warriors greeted the Warsmith as Jarn exited his shuttle and stepped aboard his personal ship the Eisernen, one of the ten Battleships which comprised his Warband and the mightiest among them. A Victory Class Battleship, the Eisernen led his fleet's movements with its reinforced armor and frightening arsenal: its lance weapon systems were so numerous that its crew have likened its functionality to that of a space-faring Basilisk artillery company. While lacking in weapon variety the iron-colored fortress of a ship was capable of inflicting severe damage at such a range that its foes would quickly learn to keep clear of it or be wiped from existence in mere moments.

Trahaearn nodded to the soldiers present in a way which had come to mean his dismissing them, as the Warsmith was not one for needless formality even though his men insisted on granting it out of respect to him. Of the few who lingered behind to still speak with him he decided to address the closest first out of convenience, but also curiosity as he looked to Urkamus nearby in the landing bay.

"I trust that Levente did his part today."

"You would be proud. The Neophyte held his own."

The veteran's gruff way of saying it made Jarn curious, as while his own soft spot for his forces was well known he desired an accurate and blunt perspective separate from his own: that was why he had left Levente in the care of Urkamus.

"And your approximation?"

"You were right about his combat potential, but one his age still has much to learn lest aggressiveness give way to recklessness."

For someone as resigned and nihilistic as Urkamus to grant praise at all was a good sign that Jarn was not wrong about Levente's potential when they recruited the young boy a few years prior. Not many children possessed the strength or willpower to drive a Power Sword through an Astartes, but that was exactly what Levente had done when they visited his world to take its resources. While the wound had not even left a lasting injury to the Astartes Levente had assaulted, it had been enough to impress Jarn who once upon a time was also a particularly large child whose physical prowess helped him earn the favor of the Iron Warriors.

"My thanks for looking after his well-being. I will see about arranging for the War Hounds to hone his talents, for I do not wish for my pupil to walk the path of Kroeger."

While Jarn had no idea what had become of Kroeger, just as he was unaware of what the present status of Forrix was, he had enough intuition to know that the former's unrelenting bloodlust and the other's growing apathy would lead them to the path of ruin. Rather than follow them, Jarn sought to establish a trail ahead of his own making.

Perhaps it was nothing but an idle dream, but Jarn felt that if he could properly train a new generation of Iron Warriors with his own ideals, with new members such as Levente and now Tristan among them, that their Legion could be saved from damnation.

After speaking with Urkamus came a conversation with Levente himself, who had lingered to speak with the Warsmith as they typically did whenever there was some form of progress in the Neophyte's training.

"Levente. Urkamus tells me you honored the Legion today with your efforts."

The fledgling Astartes bowed out of respect, though not before shooting a curios glance at the figure of a collapsed and starved boy held against Jarn's armor gently.

"I merely did what I could to be useful, Warsmith. My accomplishments are nothing compared to your own: even at a distance I saw your defeat of a Daemon Prince and his followers."

Levente's body was still growing alongside his Gene Seed implants, but it was obvious to any who saw him that the young man would be a fine warrior come his growth's completion. Whereas Jarn himself had always been tall and quite broad, much like Perturabo himself, Levente's body type was more akin to a solid brick of muscle. Like the way some Salamanders could possess incredible physical might far in excess of that of a typical Astartes, Jarn expected Levente to one day eclipse his own strength which when paired with quick reflexes and boundless courage made him an ideal candidate to become the Iron Legion's 'Champion' some day.

It might take decades, or even a century, but one day Levente would crush his foes with the same ferocity the Iron Warriors would once demonstrate upon the brutal end of a siege. The boy could be stubborn, like many of their Legion, but as he stood here before Jarn none of that arrogance was noticeable: instead he was humbled and in awe of the Warsmith whom he owed his very life to.

"All things in time. One day it shall be you who possesses the might of our Primarch, but remember that today those slain were the weakest of the Legions: the Word Bearers may be the most charismatic of our distant kin, but they lack the resilience of our Legion, the grace of the Emperor's Children, or the discipline of the Dark Angels. Keep that in mind so you do not falsely equivocate them with future foes."

"Understood, Warsmith. All shall fall to the Iron Legion!"

Last among those who lingered was an Astartes wearing MK-III armor armor much like many other members of the Iron Legion, but his differed in two notable ways: it was pitch black with silver and red as highlights, and its helmet was shaped so as to evoke the imagery of a knight. Once a member of the First Legion, the Dark Angels, this Astartes was a remnant of the conflict which tore his Legion apart thanks to the manipulations of Chaos. Like Jarn he had no love for the Ruinous Powers, and so he and other members of the 'Fallen' who called themselves the Defenders of Caliban had joined under the Iron Legion.

"Praetor, I wish I possessed better news for you, but by the time of our arrival your brothers were overcome," Jarn offered to the man who once would have been an equal to him, but now served him dutifully given their shared cause through dedication to their once great but now shattered Legions.

Castiel, former Praetor of the Dark Angels, clasped the taller Astartes on the shoulder in a way reminiscent of an old friend, "So I have been told. There was nothing you could have done, Warsmith, so know I hold no grudge. It is by your grace that we came to this world at all, and for that you have my gratitude and that of all of the Defenders of Caliban."

When Asier had acquired information reporting the presence of possible Fallen Angels upon this world whose name was lost to even the Imperium it was a moment of celebration for the scarce few Fallen within Jarn's forces, and the shared brotherhood between these Renegades saw Jarn attempt to reunite them with their kin while also using it as an opportunity to acquire supplies to fuel his own ambitions.

Jarn nodded as he returned the gesture awkwardly, never having been an expert in personal relationships nor having had much practice after his ascension to leading this Warband given that so many treated him as a substitute for their lost Primarch, "We are all 'Fallen' in one way or another, so it is only right that we stand together against all who would see us slain for circumstances outside of our control. To stand divided we would surely fall, but in unity we can seize what opportunities lay before us."

Given their proximity now Castiel's attention was drawn to the young, sickly child held in Jarn's other arm, "It would seem you have taken in another stray. "

With Castiel being one such 'stray' taken in, Jarn felt that he could explain himself easily to the Praetor and also bring up a subject which had been on his mind since he met the child, "His mind was wasted on a world such as this. Given his proximity to your brethren I did wish to ask for your blessing to take him as my apprentice, Castiel."

With a gaunt appearance and long, jet-black hair it reminded the former Dark Angel of a man he once knew, but it was superficial at best and the Praetor could sense that Jarn was serious about mentoring the boy. Ever since his arrival Jarn's body language had been protective of the unconscious child who seemed to have not had much food or rest in some time, and while possessing a new recruit to their ranks would always be welcome to his few men Castiel knew better than to try and recruit this particular one.

"I am reminded faintly of Luther's own appearance when he was a younger man, but I have no need to take from you your own discovery. The artifacts and information acquired today has satiated us all, and I would not wish to appear so greedy as to pilfer your recruit for our own ends."

"Very well. Should the opportunity arise know that I will find more of your kin: so long as they swear their allegiance to my forces and oppose Chaos I will take any under my banner."

When Tristan awoke it was in an unfamiliar environment, his eyes flickering a few times as he tried to fully open them and become aware of his surroundings. He was on something soft, but it was hard to make out what it was given the dim lighting of the room. What little light there was happened to be across the room by a metal desk and work-bench where a massive man sat, quietly working as Tristan came more to his senses.

While their face was obscured from his view, Tristan felt that this giant man must be the one he met before...his tired mind had trouble recalling their name instantly, but he did not feel in danger even if he was somewhere new now.

That was until something appeared right beside the bed he lay upon, with Tristan only recognizing what he was on when he scrambled to try and move away from this new creature only to fall instead. The metal floor greeting him was unpleasant, but his body did not feel as weak as it had when he collapsed: he did not know how but something had been done to help with his starvation.

Now on the floor right beside what had appeared beside him, Tristan noticed that the creature was not at all human: it appeared instead like a salamander he would sometimes encounter of his own world. Only, this one was bipedal, as tall as him, and was holding in its front...legs? Arms? Arms. In its front arms was a block of metal, and while the creature seemed to be smiling happily and its eyes were soft its sudden appearance was still enough to frighten the young boy.

"Do not mind Arien. He will bring you no harm."

Tristan recognized Jarn's voice, and with it much of their prior conversation...and thanks to his trust in the man he was able to settle down and observe the animal before him in greater detail. Its skin was soft and a pale blue, being cold to the touch but not overly so. It possessed a large tail about a third of the creature's height behind it, and short legs to the point they were near nonexistent between its body and feet.

As far as Tristan was concerned this was a very odd creature, but it seemed harmless. In fact it didn't even mind him poking it, and Tristan was left to wonder why such a massive warrior of such strength would keep the company of a being such as this.

To explain its presence Jarn spoke again, turning in his seat to better look at it and Tristan's interactions, "He is a useful creature from my homeworld. He helps me in my work, and has for centuries now."

While Jarn spoke his pet, 'Arien' being its name, seemed to offer the metal bar meant for smelting to Tristan. Uncertain why he was being handed something by the mute animal, Tristan still accepted it out of curiosity. His mind was too exhausted to contemplate things deeply from weeks of possessing almost no sleep, so he decided to just go with the flow. He could leave figuring out this new environment and situation for later.

"What am I to do with this?"

Jarn turned back to what he was working on, his voice blunt as he spoke, "Nothing. Ixolotls enjoy lustrous materials, and they enjoy imparting such items upon others. This makes them a fine companion for locating mineral veins, but less so in a city where they are unwitting thieves of jewelry. Their minds are simple and innocent, if they know something belongs to another they will not take it. However they do as they are told: Arien, wrench four."

The Ixolotl snapped to action immediately, not being the most agile of creatures but smart enough to rustle through a drawer of tools to bring the exact one asked for. Tristan still had many questions, but he kept them to himself...though perhaps some of them were quite obvious, as Jarn would address them moments later as Tristan drew closer to him in an attempt to see what the man was working on.

"We are aboard my personal ship, the Eisernen. Aboard are other Astartes, beings such as myself, who belong to my Iron Legion. At the present time we possess one thousand Astartes capable of active duty, and two thousand in supporting roles given their injuries or as of yet incomplete training. Your world has been brought to ruin by those 'Beasts' you so detest, lost like countless before it to the Ruinous Powers of Chaos. Right now my vessel, the metal behemoth we are traveling within, shall take us to a new world where my forces can consolidate our recent boons and regroup."

Tristan nodded along, not understanding all of what was being said such as what the type of ship he was on was, but comprehending enough to follow along.

"For someone such as you there are countless things to learn of, and I do not expect you to pick up on them all at once: I do expect you to try as best as you are capable of however. Is that understood?"

Jarn took a moment to gesture to the mechanical device he was working on upon his desk using the tool brought to him by Arien, who now sat by patiently awaiting another command. From what Tristan could see the device was similar to the ones upon the wrists of Jarn's armor that he had been wearing, which now gone revealed the man's own impressive physical stature. Ranged projectile throwers was what Tristan could intuit, but in the half-constructed state they were presently in he could not ascertain more.

"I could explain this to you, though at this point you would understand nothing even though we share a common language. Instead I shall work, and you shall watch, for while you may not know the words a mind such as yours may begin to understand the process and relations between these instruments."

Tristan nodded silently, content to obey this man to whom he owed his life, and when prompted took a seat beside him in a chair brought over by Arien upon another command being given.

"Until I deem you worthy of becoming a Neophyte you will accompany me everywhere but the battlefield. You will train your body, mind, and spirit, such that no foe shall break you. Right now you are weak and vulnerable, but in time you will stand as tall as any of my Astartes."

There was little doubt in Tristan's mind that it would be difficult, but the thought of what had happened to him, his family, and his village steeled him to the concept of suffering if it meant he could bring those to blame to justice. Being raised on a medieval world had left him with impressions of honor and duty which would become appreciated in time by the similarly dutiful Warsmith.

"When that day comes it will be you bringing ruin to worlds, not the 'Beasts' who ruined your own. You will bring them death, despair, and war unlike any they have known. Teach them that their hopes and pride have come to nothing. That their empty whispers shall fall upon deaf ears: that their gods are dead, for Human logic shall have killed them. We are the Angels of Death who have come to liberate them from life itself. You shall demonstrate that nothing can save them."

The speed at which Jarn worked was incredible, and by the time he finished the final sentence his wrist mounted gun had been re-assembled and repaired of damage it had sustained during the battle. Lifting it up, Jarn pointed it across his room towards a target he had placed by a far wall, and in the next moment Tristan found himself awed by the sight of the man-sized structure evaporating from the sudden gunfire.

This was a man worth learning from, and so he gathered what scraps of his consciousness he could to continue watching him work on various other devices.

"We are the Iron Warriors, and no matter how long it takes, no matter what we must endure, we shall be the ones who build a better world atop the bodies of all who stand in our way."


A/N: With the stage now set for them we may follow in the shoes of both Tristan Bertrand and Levente to experience their trials and conflicts in the 41st Millennium. Also minor glimpses at the fact that these Iron Warriors are working with minor remnants of other traitor Legions who share a distaste for Chaos: in this case some members of the Fallen and the 'War Hounds', which was the name of the World Eaters prior to Angron's discovery and subsequent corruption of the Legion.

There is one other major focal point character I have yet to introduce, but they will get their own section when the time comes. Right now the goal was to get the Iron Legion's members set up, so now that the stage is set I can tackle other areas as well.

I hope you have enjoyed, and that you will leave me your thoughts below!