Brantorrh Nghuirleth and the Crowned Hunters
By author SIngemeister
The Fourteenth Primarch: Brantorrh Nghuirleth
Name:
Brantorrh Nghuirleth, the Horned Lord, Walker of the Forests, King of Beasts, Peacemaker, Stagcrowned.
Appearance:
Fourteen foot tall and very broad, Brantorrh is leucistic with pale skin and hair. He bears a noticeable shaggy beard, and his hair is similarly untamed and bushy. His most notable feature is the pair of mighty antlers that jut from his skull. He wears mighty artificer armour in the colours of his Legion, ornate but covered by the pelts and accruements of creatures he has slain, often accompanied with a cloak made from the hide of some great beast. He smells of must and forests.
Talents and Personality:
Like his Legion, Brantorrh's talents lie in brute force and primal senses. On the battlefield, he is an unstoppable force, tearing through the enemy ranks with savage fury as he brays and howls in a bestial rage, ignoring blows that wound daunt a lesser being. Despite his size, he can move disturbingly quietly when he needs to be, especially within forests. Brantorrh has exceptional senses of hearing and smell, all the better to find prey with.
Off the battlefield, and especially around those not of his Legion, he is as solemn and stoic as any of his sons. Among those he does not trust, which is the majority, he rarely communicates in anything other than grunts or short phrases. He is more amicable to those of his Legion, and even quite talkative to those whom he truly trusts, but that trust is rarely earned. Some have noted less-than-human behaviours from him, notably his tendency to scent the air regularly.
Homeworld:
Morokh, a forested Death World of monstrosities and regions scarred by that which lies behind the Veil. Isolated settlements, better fortified and defended now, dot the world, as tribes of abhumans roam beneath the eaves. In the deepest, darkest woods sits Fæstcaester, the fortress-monastery of the XIV Legion, rearing out from beneath the canopies, a black iron mountain.
Though Morokh is safer now than it was when Brantorrh landed upon it, vile beasts still hunt between the trees, and not all the peoples who live there have truly accepted the word of the Emperor, to say nothing of those unknown things that still try to slip between or break through the wards that rim the Desolations.
Psychic potential:
So far, Brantorrh has passed no comment over the claims of the Gaelorbragd regarding their connection to Morokh's 'World-Spirit' as opposed to drawing upon the powers of the Warp. He himself has not displayed any powers, though his Legion are noted to fight ever more ferociously, survive more grievous wounds, and move with an eerie cohesion when in his presence. Whether this is some passive psychic ability or merely part of his nature of a Primarch is unclear. He has shown some extra measure of resilience to the powers of the Warp as well, psychic lightning and Warpfire seeming to "wash off" his hide rather than scar and burn. Brantorrh, and indeed much of his Legion, seem to be capable of 'scenting' the presence of Warpcraft and corruption from the Immaterium.
Background:
Once a quiet pastoral world on the borders of the Eldar Empire's core worlds, the Age of Strife and the birth of the raging, galaxy-spanning Warp Storms shattered the Arcadian peace that had held sway over Morokh.
Neighbouring worlds were luckier; their populations died screaming and twisted in the psychic shockwave of the Fall. Others suffered a few generations of melancholy mutation before they rendered themselves extinct, or worse, covered in mewling, broken wretches unable to comprehend the foulness of their fate. Some planets simply broke, shattered, and reformed again, without a single sign of prior habitation.
Morokh survived, forever changed. Thousands died clawing at their eyes, and more passed away when sleep simply deserted them for months on end. Society slowly began to fracture and collapse, but the worst was yet to come. As the relentless orgies of depravity of the Eldar made reality itself bend and writhe and scream, the fabric of spacetime was twisted and tormented into something other, something malevolent. When spacetime was broken, five millennia later finally snapping under the strain, it would become the Eye of Terror. It was not that. Not yet. But it was becoming that; and its malevolent gaze fell upon Morokh.
Men changed and twisted into parodies of their herds, just as their charges reared and tottered on their hind legs. Man became feral and beast became wise, at least in cases where neither simply grew in a grotesque monstrosity. Mothers gave forth bleating goat-fiends, whilst ewes and cows birthed crawling, crying ape-lambs and man-calves.
The forests that had once been decorative and fulfilling became eerie and foreboding, woods no longer safe to walk in for fear that which lurked beneath their boughs. Untainted man retreated to their shelters and built high walls, whilst the beastmen lurked in tribes beneath the eves of the forest. Sometimes the two traded between each other, at other times they fought vicious purges.
Monstrous ravens, bats, and hawks haunted the skies, whilst gargantuan turtles, snakes, and otters lay waiting beneath the waters. Nightmarish boar, stags, and oxen carved pathways through the forest, and dire weasels, wolves, and cats stalked amongst the undergrowth.
In some places, the dark powers of the Warp fell so heavily that they left whole regions desolate, eldritch wastes, with gnarled and blackened trees that clasped with clawed branches at anything nearby, and worse and stranger things still. The beastmen that made their homes here were yet more vile than their cousins within the forests, and eerie beings from the Immaterium stalked and capered.
In time, the insidious grasp of the Warp began to become less tight. Though it never weakened and never faded, its effects were less felt, for the planet and people alike had adjusted to the dark powers of the Immaterium swirling around them. Morokh and those who dwelt upon it began to stabilise. Morokh was unrecognisable, changed from a pristine planet of endless pastures and genteel woodland, to a Death World covered in creeping forests where little to no light reached the forest floor.
It was to this lurid world that the lifepod of the Fourteenth Primarch came screaming through the void. For seven days did his craft's trail light up the night sky before crashing deep into the darkling woods of Morokh, leaving a burning trail through the forest canopy. Isolated settlements and horned folk tribes alike took notice of the disturbance, scouting parties and hunting bands flitting through the forest in search of the impact site.
The first men there claimed the wreckage for themselves, but noted the pod was empty; whatever it had carried had broken loose before they had arrived. Trying not to think about what such an advanced vessel could have been carrying, they cautiously dragged the craft back to their village, their every step watched from the shadows.
In ten years, most everyone had forgotten the mysterious vessel, though rumours and stories abounded of a pale-skinned demon with the antlers of a stag that moved more swiftly and more silently than the wind, was stronger even than the greatest ramhorns and razortusk behemoths, and could speak the hundred languages of man and the thousand guttural variations of the Bray-Tongue. Most paid this little heed; in all likelihood such a creature did not exist, and if it did, there were more pressing matters to worry about.
Still, as the stories spread and changed from teller to teller, they agreed on one thing—a name, Brantorrh Nghuirleth, the Horned Lord.
And as the Fourteenth Primarch grew and moved among both man and beast, he took the name for himself.
Brantorrh first announced himself at Heorbhaild, a hilltop settlement of fair size, during the middle of a violent thunderstorm, appearing atop the gates between lightning flashes.
In a voice that boomed over the peals of thunder, he declares that this was the first of the settlements and tribes that would form his protectorate, and would likely be the greatest of them all. At the crescendo of his speech, he roared a question over the crack of lightning and the torrential rain—would they join him, and accept his offer?
Fearful and terrified, they replied that they would.
The pale figure nodded and vanished.
Many of Heorbhaild tried to forget the horrendous experience, perhaps trying to attribute it to a mass hysteria caused by a murmur in the Warp, but these men had their fantasies shattered when several local tribes of the beastfolk arrived at the foot of their hill, and said that they had been sent in peace by Brantorrh Nghuirleth himself, describing the figure in much the same way as they had seen him. One tribe, the Branchcarvers, told of how one of their more aggressive neighbours, the Hoofbiters, had refused the protection of the horned and pale spirit and been torn asunder, their entrails left to decorate trees and feed the wild beasts.
More and more tribes began to aggregate, and runners came from other settlements to swear themselves part of the pact. One brought news that the town of Ghethorstr had refused and been razed to the ground. A few terrified refugees who had sworn themselves to Brantorrh even as he burnt their home to the ground and slaughtered all resistance arrived later confirmed the story.
Those who had accepted the deal, the Pactsworn, worked together less out of unity and more out of a sense of fear as to what might happen to them if they did not—Brantorrh brought them good and helped them build palisades and buildings, aiding them when needed, but rarely offered advice and tended to solve disputes by threat of violence upon both parties. Still, even a peace built upon fear is a peace, and with more tribes and villages swearing themselves to the Horned Lord each week, it was impossible for there not to be at least some level of co-ordination and co-operation, councils of chiefs, elders, and headmen ordering the building of earthworks, shanties, palisades and roads. For the first time in millennia, there was infrastructure being built upon Morokh.
After two years, Brantorrh returned from his errant wanderings to begin a new era for his Pact. No longer would he leave them for weeks on end to find new inductees, but now he would lead them to new purpose—the unification of their homeworld and the containment of the desolated regions.
First did he begin to organise a new army from the tribes and settlements, forming them into bands based upon individual strengths and weaknesses, with no regard for the origin or nature of the warriors within a band. Man and beast would have to learn to fight alongside each other in the world they would build, with no regard for old hatreds and prejudices. His warriors were taught to be disciplined, fast, and utterly ruthless on the battlefield, for their foes would be those who refused Brantorrh's peace, and thus had rejected mercy.
Secondly, he aided in the flourishing cultures of the peoples of Morokh, subtly encouraging storytellers, craftsmen, and artists to meet, compare, and compete with one another. In this, he would bind together all the peoples of Morokh with a new and overarching culture, that would supplement and inform, rather than supplant and destroy, that which already existed.
The wars of the Horned Lord's Pact where many, and the Primarch and his fellows struck down many a vile and fearsome foe. With his mighty boar's head maul, he laid low the Spirit Eater of Dai Muir, and wrestled the mighty Ghorgon chief Khaerloth for seven days and seven nights before grabbing ahold of his mighty horns and snapping his neck with a single twist. Twisted and mewling things poured forth from the desolated wastes, but his warriors met them firm, luring them from their places of power into the darkling woods before butchering them without mercy.
In time, his Pact spread across the face of Morokh, and doughty wardens surrounded the desolate regions, protecting the men of the forest from the monstrosities within. They kept an eye on the sky, ever watching in trepidation of the Eye of Terror casting its malevolent gaze upon them once more. Sometimes, Brantorrh would lead expeditions into the hearts of these places, and those who returned where never the same.
Morokh was one of the first homeworlds that the Imperium encountered, and at first the men who came from the stars were treated with great caution. The majority of the Morokhae retreated into the woods to gauge the threat posed by this so-called Imperium, and rallied themselves for war against these star-born invaders when they found traces of the beast folk and declared that they would need to be contained, especially when they found that pure mankind upon the planet willingly consorted with the abhuman wretches.
Imperial patrols vanished under the eves of the forests, and retributory expeditions were led further and further astray into the darkling woods, before being tricked into going back to their landing sites, disorientated and scared.
Soon, Imperial commanders sent a message to the Emperor himself, suggesting that the co-ordination showed by these Skirmishers worldwide, as well as the network of recently built infrastructure and scattered tales of a forest spirit called the Horned Lord, implied the presence of a Primarch upon Morokh. And thus did the Emperor come to this strange and ancient world.
He walked amongst the trees for eighteen days, fighting off savage beasts but left untouched by the peoples of the forest, before Brantorrh came before him to offer peace or annihilation as he had done to so many others before. The Emperor countered Brantorrh's offer with one of his own, to join him in the stars to lead in the Great Crusade. The Horned Lord stood silent for a while, before vanishing back into the forest.
Over the next two weeks, they fought and discussed, alternating between Brantorrh's lightning strikes from out of the shadows matched against the Emperor's sheer might and long talks about their separate goals and experiences.
It was only on the fifteenth day, when the Emperor finally slammed his son to the ground in a chokehold, that Brantorrh yielded on both fronts. He would lead his scions, the XIV Legion, and lend his experience and strength to the Great Crusade. In addition, he would further its hidden agenda against the depredations of the Eye of Terror, other Warp Storms, and their effects, in exchange for the peoples of his world and other abhuman-dominant planets being uncensured by the Imperial laws. Though the Emperor discussed with him the nature of Warp-born mutations and the semi-real predators beyond the veil, he never told Brantorrh of the Chaos Gods, of the actively malevolent intelligences that watched the Materium with envious eyes.
The XIV Legion, known as the Shadowed Walkers and small in number due to the flaws of their gene-seed, took a new name of the Crowned Hunters in joy of being reunited with their Primarch. Together, they set forth to unify the stars, as had been done on Terra and Morokh alike.
Before departing to head the 41st Expeditionary Fleet, Brantorrh forged for himself a mighty Power Field weapon, Forbryscreot, half spear with a point made from the fang of a gargantuan lake-wyrm, half warhammer with the head encased in the nigh-unbreakable skull of Khaerloth. The King of Beasts made a cloak from the Spirit Eater's hide, embroidered with the insignia of every tribe and village upon Morokh. Finally, he carved himself a mighty warhorn from one of the beasts he had slain, whose resounding basso roar drives the XIV to even greater efforts.
The XIV Legion: the Crowned Hunters
Name:
The Crowned Hunters, formerly the Shadowed Walkers. Also called the Gyldraefenda, Beast Brothers, Beast Legion, or Beasts of the Emperor.
Insignia and Appearance:
In battle, the Legion will either wear their full colours—black-dark green with a yellow trim and golden ornamentation—or they will paint themselves with appropriate camouflage for the campaign. The insignia of the Legion is the Imperial Aquila perched atop a stag's skull, worn on the left pauldron, with the right pauldron identifying the role and squad of the Space Marine in question.
In battle, the Legion adorns their armour and their vehicles with fetishes, totems, skulls, and other trophies and relics of superstition. In a practical sense, these serve to break up the outlines of the soldiers, and are often woven into a mesh web alongside leaves, branches, and other camouflage-enhancing objects. They also serve to unnerve the enemy, especially when a Crowned Hunter has a brace of skull-covered stakes attached to his power pack.
Gene-seed Status:
Subject to a gene-seed flaw that kept their numbers low and unstable, the Shadowed Walkers experienced a renaissance after reuniting with their Primarch. His presence and gene-seed brought stability to the Legion's recruitment processes, and soon their numbers swelled to respectable size.
The most notable aberration of the XIV's gene-seed is the Bestial Strain, a unique DNA strand that binds to the recruit's genome and enhances them even beyond other Astartes, granting them increased speed, strength, hearing, and natural reflexes. It affects the ossmodula, leading to the development of bony lumps underneath the skin, and most especially the growth of horns—though these are mostly kept filed for ease of helmet use. It also has an effect on the skin and hair, leading to the Astartes having a leathery and hirsute hide, and occasionally alters the eye, leading to the pupils becoming distorted and the iris becoming orange or yellow.
It is not without flaws, however. Due to the quirks of Brantorrh's trefoil gene-seed, it is entirely necessary to prevent the rejection of the other implants. Since it must be injected first, recruits often find that the Bestial Strain can degenerate the minds of men, leading them to be instinctive and savage. In some cases it leads to a berserk rage, known as the Bloodgreed, where all reason is lost on him and he becomes nothing more than a ravening animal. These flaws almost never manifest in a fully initiated Space Marine. They show when the Strain is implanted, or not at all.
Legionary Assets:
The XIV number around 120,000 Astartes strong. Their flagship is the Brimheorot, a mighty Gloriana-class battleship with a heavily modified prow, armoured with the skull of a void whale, which has been used on occasion to ram enemy starships.
Their homeworld, Morokh, is their major recruiting centre, and the site of their fortress-monastery, a vast and ugly construction that looms over even the ancient and twisted forests of the world, and delves into its dark caverns. In the same system, the bleak planet of Isern is a major mining centre and serves as the main starshipyards for the Legion.
As part of Brantorrh's agreement with the Emperor, human and beastfolk auxiliaries alike deploy alongside the XIV Legion in battle as the Fyrding. The Crowned Hunters have special dispensation to recruit from abhuman populations, even those that would normally be censured or quarantined. Thus are Ogryn, Scalies, Nightsiders, and others seen among the ranks of the 41st Expeditionary Fleet. Notable recruiting world for the Fyrding include the polluted Hive World of Brumm, the tide-locked Half-Heart, and the low-grav Whythpar. Rarely, however, do the lanky, elongated Whythpari take to the battlefield, instead being better suited to low-gravity or zero-gravity positions on-board the fleet.
Legion Organisation:
—A Band is normally of 10-30 Space Marines, led by a Ceorl.
—A company is of 100 Space Marines, led by a Beorn.
—A brigade is of 1,000 Space Marines, led by a Thegn.
—The fourteen Herigea, each led by a dedicated Iarll, are the largest subdivision, under the full Legion.
This structure is fairly fluid, and transfer of Astartes between Bands, even between companies and brigades, is far from unheard of, if it is thought that they will be more effective under another Ceorl.
Special units:
The Duguth—The Legion's veterans are known as the Duguth, and are spread between all the Herigea so that the Initiates may better benefit from their knowledge. Most of the Legion's Dreadnoughts are assigned to either the Wardens or the Scildtarr.
The Scildtarr—These are the Terminators of the Legion. Ostensibly the bodyguard of the Primarch and the Iarlls, they are more usually found wherever the enemy is pushing strongest, holding the line so that their fellows may strike at the right time. Appointments to the Scildtarr usually come from the Duguth.
The Guthtarbh or War Bulls—These men are line breakers without compare in the Legion. Normally made of the largest and strongest Astartes, the Guthtarbh are sent into the thickest of fighting to shatter the enemy, a hammer blow against their defences. By fact of nature, the turnover rate is quite high.
Before the Imperium, it was those psykers who lived amongst the tribes and villages who detected taint and corruption. After Brantorrh's secret discussions with the Emperor, he split the role in twain.
The Galdorbraegd—These are the war-psykers of the Crowned Hunters. They claim not to take power from the Immaterium, but from Morokh itself, citing the Bestial Strain as a sign of this. Many in the rest of the Imperium are extremely sceptical of this claim. Their powers are often strange, primal, and unlike those used by other Legions.
The Bray-Shamans—These men, whose name was once given to the psykers of the beast folk, are responsible for the purity of the Legion. They administer rites and rituals, and are often drawn from the ranks of the Desolation Wardens. Few are more fearsome in battle than they, and a mastery of both Morokhae tradition and the Imperial Truth is requisite.
The Desolation Wardens—These men are those who have stood or are standing guard over the Desolations upon Morokh. They have seen and slain the abhorrent aberrations that dwell within, and are said to be able to sense the taint of the Eye of Terror's gaze upon the corrupted. When the taint of the Dyrnemere must be destroyed, it is they who lead the destruction.
The Ganalaeram—Hidden within the Desolation Wardens stand the Ganalaeram, the Soulvoid. Numbering less than two-hundred, they are recruited exclusively from Pariahs, Blanks, and Psychic Nulls. Looked upon with distrust by most of the Legion, the Ganalaeram are the hidden weapon Brantorrh unleashes against the most corrupted and tainted of foes.
Expertise and Combat Doctrine:
As in keeping with their history under the boughs of Morokh, the XIV are masters of skirmish and ambush, closing as near as they can to an enemy without being noticed, before bursting into furious action.
The unique nature of the Bestial Strain makes them highly skilled in close assault, where they fight with strength beyond other Astartes and with a savage and primal fury. All Space Marines of the XIV are very skilled in close combat, with many preferring the rigours of the melee and the brutal hum of the chainsword to the precision of ranged combat and the crack of the bolter.
Sometimes they overwhelm their foes with sheer ferocity, whilst other times they can strike like lightning before vanishing into shadows, only to strike again from another direction.
A unique vehicle, the Hrædwægn, reflects this mentality. A military transport with a huge dozer blade on the anterior, only the front and forepart of the sides are heavily armoured, with the rest being only lightly plated. The engine is built for silent and sudden bursts of speed—it is a vehicle designed to act as a battering ram to deliver troops into the heart of the enemies' lines.
Scout units rove ahead of the main force, identifying key targets and disrupting supply lines and infrastructure beforehand. Larger congregations of scouting units may act to goad and taunt the foe into attacking them, luring the hapless enemy into the waiting reach of the main army itself.
Used to the dense forests of their home world, bikers and jetbikes are less common than might be expected, with many believing that if one must take to the air mid-fight, it is better to do so as one of their Heorafocr, the jet-pack assault troops.
Some doctrinal practices are not universal. Many Companies are split over the usage of the Bray-Scream, a terrifying mix of bloodcurdling howls, roars, and shrieks emitted through amped-up vox-casters, enhanced by the powers of the Galdorbraegd to shatter enemy minds and morale. Some Beorns deem it too savage and demeaning an act, whilst others see it a necessary tool of war.
Another dispute is over the use of war animals such as the mutated hounds, hawks, and boars of Morokh in battle. Though most agree they are effective as skirmishers and screening units, there is conflict over whether the effort of training and handling them, increased due to their size and strength meaning that Astartes must be the ones responsible, is worth it.
Legion Weaknesses:
Masters as they are of the close assault, the frenzied melee and the sudden ambush, the XIV find themselves at quite a disadvantage in ranged warfare compared to other Legions. The same Bestial Strain that makes them such utterly deadly opponents in close quarters also gives them comparatively worse eyesight and precision with ranged firepower, and the Crowned Hunters often struggle when having to engage in long-range firefights. Their mindset—primal and reactive, and prone to moving and thinking as a group—also makes them easy to provoke, though it should be noted that their keen senses and wary nature make them prone to noticing traps.
The Legion's isolationist and obsessive tendencies are worth noting, rarely working with other Legions and often refocusing their campaigns upon signs of strange Warpcraft.
Beliefs and Practices:
At the core of the Legion's belief system is the dichotomy between beast and man that was so enforced upon the mindset of the Morokhae peoples. Under Brantorrh, this changed, so that the two were not seen as separate and eternal enemies, but as the two parts of the human condition, and both important. In this, the seemingly opposite demands of the Imperial Truth and the superstitions of the Morokhae syncretise quite nicely.
The Legion reflects this belief. They are known to be formal and calm, even meditative, off the battlefield, while brutal and savage upon it. This is reflected in their coloration: if they wear the black and yellow, it is a sign that their operations will be carried out quickly and efficiently, and woe betide those who face them dressed in camouflage patterns. The Astartes are expected to perform the repainting themselves.
Most of the ships have artificial forests with wildlife taken from Morokh and other worlds on-board, where members of the XIV are expected to practise their skills in combat, hunting and forestry here, as well as meditation.
Though the Legion tends towards the isolationist, being distrustful of guests from the rest of the Imperium or indeed from other Legions, those who do manage to earn their respect have spread tales of the epic sagas and poems of their deeds and travails that members of the Legion write and perform. Not merely grandiose boasting, these are a living history of each Space Marine, detailing not only great victories, but also defeats and humiliations.
Human and abhuman worlds are given the offer of peace or subjugation when the Legion happens upon them. But the characteristic Imperial distrust of the alien runs strong within the Crowned Hunters. Xenos will be merely given the chance to accept their fate as an isolated client-protectorate or face annihilation.
Recruitment and Discipline:
The Bray-Shamans and chieftains keep watch over the youths of Morokh for signs of strength. Those who catch the eye of the recruiters will be taken from their fellows and implanted with the Bestial Strain. From there they are cast out into the wild forests, and expected to make their way either to one of the Desolations or to the fortress-monastery of Fæstcaester. Once there, the Bray-Shamans will lead them in a vigil against the Eye of Terror, before they are sent to receive training and full implantation. Those who do not arrive at one of the chosen points are considered lost, another trial for other Aspirants to face.
Characters of Interest:
Kheanégéd Half-Sighted, the Black Beast of Aragh—A cunning Iarll of the Bloodied Maw Herigea, renowned for the eye he lost to Eldar raiders, for his skill with the neural whip Banestrike, and for always wearing the black artificer armour he owns. Kheanégéd is a member of Brantorrh's inner circle, and is trusted as an opposing voice to the Primarch, so that all may examine their motives truly. He is the primary advocate of the use of war beasts, keeping a kennel of trained hounds that run with him into battle, as well as keeping several flights of small flying beasts that he uses as messengers to herald great victories.
Unrad Anslag the Baleful, Auriga-Spear—Former Legion Master before the reunification with the Primarch, Unrad is one of the oldest Astartes still serving, having fought in the subjugation of Alba back on Terra, when the XIV were yet to be officially deployed. A veteran of ten-thousand battles, Unrad is an important, if quiet, member of the inner circle of the Crowned Hunters. He is Iarll of the Shadowed Death, the oldest of the Herigea, with the greatest number of Duguth within. In battle, he carries Impaler, an archaeotech Power Fist with a retractable Power Sword inside.
Dunnhael the Foresworn, Death of False Faith—First amongst the Bray-Shamans and first into the fray with his black-winged jump-pack, Dunnhael is profoundly devoted to the iconoclasm of the Imperial Truth, and carries the shattered icons of other worlds' superstitions with him. A stolid man of few words, Dunnhael often strays away from the main body of the army, on an agenda unknown to most others in the Legion.
Ceahathair Ravenking, the First Cunning Man—The oldest and most cunning of the Morokhae Galdorbraegd, the Ravenking is so named for his favoured tactic of summoning an immaterial murder of crows upon enemies. Though this seems macabre, he is one of Brantorrh's most level-headed and trusted advisors, and a close friend of Dunnhael.
Seiltynge Without-Honour, Who-Takes-Food-From-Starving-Mouths—One of the Galdorbraegd, Seiltynge is disfavoured for shunning the usual tactics of the Legion's psykers, instead choosing to work with scout units, releasing his psychic powers against the enemy's infrastructure and food supplies. Seiltynge is notably dismissive of the standard rules and customs of war.
Bragealach Tungolic, the Moon's Talon, the Addled—Master of the Fleet and a skilled pilot himself, the Moon's Talon is a strange and capricious fellow, often lost in bizarre avenues of thought, but nonetheless is a renowned commander with a knack for lateral thinking.
Bryarrhedhar the Brazen, the Everdead Equerry—Equerry to the Primarch and a boisterous and fearsome warrior, Bryarrhedhar leads the Guthtarbh and has a higher tally than most. He has been presumed dead 17 times, but has returned to fight another day. Bryarrhedhar liberated a pair of rune-covered Power Axes from a campaign against an intransigent Squat world, which he has carried into battle ever since.
Garzudar Heafoll, Keeper of Skulls, the Lord of Roots—Leader of the Desolation Wardens, Garzudar is a dour and serious fellow, for he has seen much and slain many a vile monstrosity. He has led many expeditions into the depths of the Desolations, and keeps the keys to the Vault of Skulls, where the treated skulls of the aberrations are kept for study. As is accustomed by his post, he carries the staff Maellorgh, a relic of the Golden Age of Technology that denies the Warp and causes it to atrophy and fail in its presence.
Scildthegn Gaulgax Hellheart, the White Hand—The leader of Brantorrh's Scildtarr, the Hellheart is taciturn and stoic even by the standards of the XIV, rarely saying anything longer than one syllable. In battle, he is ferociously brutal and savage in defence of his Primarch, wielding a spike-bossed and sharp-edged storm shield to gory effect.
Venerable Dreadnought Naughak Ironmane, the Newfound Son—Once a senior Terran Apothecary responsible for the induction of new recruits, the former Yonn Tarlbrock wholeheartedly embraced Morokhae culture and the changes brought to the XIV by Brantorrh, even changing his name to something more suitable. His devotion was born of relief from the genetic stability that reunification brought to the Legion's recruits. Though badly wounded during the Compliance of Jaktor Shann, he was placed into a specialised Contemptor Dreadnought and continues to serve as an honoured member of the Primarch's inner circle.
Feodhyrne Nevercaught, Last-Breath—Leader of the Scouts, and a master of forestcraft, Feodhyrne has done several tours alongside other Legions to better himself, and as such is a trusted friend of his Primarch, if not anyone else. Whilst the XIV Legion generally do not carry out assassinations, Feodhyrne has performed several such operations. He carries one notable trophy, a Golden Age shield projector embedded in a crown taken from an empress who soon learnt that, no matter how untouchable the shield made her, she still needed to breathe.
Guthringar Thundershod—A noted Thegn and prodigy of the fast attack tactics utilised by the Legion. He leads the Tuilaeg Band, a veteran mobile attack force, a precision scalpel against the enemy. Guthringar wields a mighty Power Maul, Gatesmasher, and wears the skull of a monstrous xenos king on his helm.
Gudhafoc Hoghawk—Leader of the jetbike squadrons, the Hoghawk is a rarity amongst the XIV, who generally prefer to keep their feet on the ground. Gudhafoc pioneered the art of flying through the forest, and under his leadership the long-neglected jetbike squadrons have begun to expand.
Beorn Eadmont Gate-Eager—A well-renowned Beorn of the Primarch's own Herigea, Eadmont has achieved much fame for his daring actions and skill with a jump-pack, notably expertly launching himself into the closing bay of an escaping aerospacecraft containing numerous enemy officials. After butchering the soldiers inside, he intimidated the captured officials into beginning surrender and Compliance talks, earning him many accolades.
Bray-Commander Ikrana Modjaur—Senior commander of the Fyrding, Ikrana has at best rocky relationships with the other commanders in the Expeditionary Fleet, due to her status as a bestial abhuman, a Feral World primitive, and presumed favouritism from the Primarch. Nevertheless, she is an extremely talented individual, even if she does insist on leading from the front as often as possible.
Battle-cry:
Their battle-cry is "The Hunt is upon you!" or bestial braying and howling and the blowing of war horns
Legionary History:
—They were deployed in secret on Terra to subjugate the nation of Albia. They took many recruits from the Albyon peninsula.
—They first openly engaged in the Pacification of Neptune, where their skills in close-combat made them more than a match for the twisted hordes that opposed them.
—Brantorrh was one of the earliest Primarchs to be united with his Legion, alongside his sisters Karmella Moros and Aurora Starchild.
—Their first major deployment post-reunification was the Subjugation of the Galaspar. The sights they saw there were so abominable to their philosophy that they reacted with even more brutality than is usual for the XIV, choking the hives with gore as the Crowned Hunters marched on the capital spire of the Order.
—The Crowned Hunters famously led the Compliance of Jaktor Shann, their keen senses allowing them to sniff out the infected hive-lords who kept the human populace under their thrall.
—The XIV defended the world of Shurlvildt against an Orkish incursion, luring the Orks higher into the mountains to stretch their superior numbers thin before rapidly crushing them with multiple pinpoint strikes. The Warboss was slain by the Primarch, who keeps the tusks as adornment to his armour.
—During the Campaign upon Forty-One-Twenty-Seven, an otherwise routine Compliance mission that would have only been worthy of note for the fact that the planet was claimed to be Terra by a man who referred to himself as an emperor, several Space Marines died under very suspicious circumstances.