Lions Rampant

Lions Rampant
Battle Cry	For valour, strike swift!
Number	IX
Founding	First Founding
Successors of	N/A
Primarch	Cromwald Walgrun
Homeworld	Sommesgard
Strength	130,000 at start of Heresy
Allegiance	Slaaneshi
Colours	Red, Steel Grey and White

This page details people, events, and organisations from the /tg/ Heresy, a fan re-working of the Warhammer 40,000 Universe. See the /tg/ Heresy Timeline and Galaxy pages for more information on the Alternate Universe.

The Lions Rampant once stood as stalwart defenders of mankind. Credited with brilliant leadership and numerous victories, their former glories are now forever stained by infamy. During the Hektor Heresy they cast their lot with the traitors rather than the Imperium, and are now among the greatest examples of the excesses of Chaos. Now they ride in an eternal quest to satisfy their dark master, the god of Chaos Slaanesh.

History of the Lions Rampant

Before the discover of Cromwald, the Lions Rampant were an understrength Legion known as the Highland Raiders. They were tasked with subjugating worlds that refused offers of peace, and as a result were often set against well-prepared foes. They lacked glorious campaigns in their formative years, especially in the wake of Legions more specialized, organized, or simply more brutal in their ways. It was not until the discovery of the lost Primarch that they would be catapulted to the role of a vaunted vanguard, earning their name and place in the Great Crusade.

The Highland Raiders

The early years of the Legion, starting with the Sacred Band and their leadership. Focus on the stoic, morbid demeanor not too unlike the Death Korps from the OU. Inglorious, with a hefty price to pay in blood and steel. Conquests here are brutal affairs and seldom are they celebrated.

Honored Vanguard

After Cromwald's restructuring of the legion, they press outwards with renewed purpose. The injection of fresh blood and wholesale embrace of the Iterator corps begins to reshape the legion's culture. Their early conquests are ambitious and bold maneuvers combining the full strength of the legion to test its might. After the first battle honors are granted, the divisions begin to split, forming multiple expeditionary fleets. These fleets become the standard for the Lions conquests, with each division operating in a truly independent fashion.

The Fall

In the waning years of the Great Crusade, the fate of the Lions Rampant became inextricably tied to the wasting curse of their primarch. Cromwald's sickness influenced his command, which in turn began to twist and mold the doctrine of the legion. The Indomitable Sovereign continued to rendezvous with the expeditionary fleets as the needs of the crusade dictated. Universally the field marshals commanding the Lions' great divisions viewed the primarch's arrival as a monumental occasion, and welcomed his guiding hand to further refine the art of war. The process was slow, much as the numbness afflicting Cromwald himself. It was over the course of dozens of campaigns that his lust for rapid assault and high-speed maneuver was made manifest.

Field Marshal Basil Heart was first to take to heart the evolving doctrine handed down by the primarch. He had inherited mastery of the 3rd division from Geoffrey the Lionheart, and had always been known for favoring a heavily mechanized method of war. He was first to adopt the idea that mobility was more than a necessary advantage in battle, but an objective all its own. He took the doctrine of overwhelming concentration of force already exemplified by his elite armored brigade and rebuilt his division around making such concentration capable of striking anywhere, at any time. The 3rd under his command served as an example for the other field marshals, who implemented their own interpretation of the primarch's strategic brilliance. Even the infamously stubborn Field Marshal Venetus of the 2nd division was forced to adopt facets of what he dubbed the "cult of speed" when he found it was being enforced by the 6th training division. The legion as a whole was shifting to reflect Cromwald's need to clash with his foes as swiftly and violently as possible.

The shift in doctrine was the first signs of the sickness that soon would sweep through the legion. In the waning days of 994M30 the primarch assembled the master apothecaries under his command. They answered the summons and crossed the vast gulf of space to gather aboard the Sovereign. There he held a meeting with the foremost medical minds among his children, and sold the soul of his legion. For two full months they labored in secret on a project that threatened to change the fate of the Lions, and when the master apothecaries returned to their divisions they carried with them a horrid curse. Their knowledge had blended with the sorcery bestowed by advisers from the Eternal Zealots. Now their gene seed bore the same fatal flaw that had dragged Cromwald down the road of madness. With absolute mastery of the health and wholeness of the legionaries at their fingertips they spread the slow numbness to each and every Lion to need their tending.

"As it is above, so shall it be below. It is the master's right to demand such of his subjects," spoke the primarch of his legion. By the time the Ullanor wars ended virtually every Lion would be afflicted, with only a small few veterans remaining whole and unchanged. With the campaign requiring the rare mustering of the whole legion to face the greenskin menace, Cromwald had the perfect opportunity to see his children succumb to the madness. They fought with a fervor previously unseen in their ranks, as if some hunger for violence drove them into the orks. The lust for the thunder of battle and the rush of the charge became more manifest as the campaign carried on, marking out numerous cases where the daring maneuvers of the Lions Rampant would be celebrated as brilliant, while other cases they would be heralded as needlessly aggressive or dangerous and reckless. Any serious inquest, however, was staved off by the strategic success they enjoyed.

The Culling

The years following Ullanor were fraught with preparations for the coming storm of betrayal. Cromwald and his command battalion were now fully beholden to the glories of chaos, and had sown the seeds of its worship among the legion. Already it bore fruit, but there were those individuals of singular will and loyalty that would not be so easily swayed. To this end a quiet cull of those incorruptible souls was put into place.

The decade leading into M31 came with an increase in factionalism within the legion. Cabals and lodges began to form in the guise of veterans circles or competitive groups. Often they would clash for honors or assignment, but within each lay the core veneration of a darker cause than could be readily seen. These cabals often were drawn along the lines of platoons or companies, but some crossed organizational boundaries to make covens of like minded individuals. Their influence grew within the legion under the guise of internal competition, but ultimately they served to isolate and alienate the marines that would not be corrupted.

Those marines were subject to duty on the bleeding edge of the crusade, or left to garrison distant outposts in isolation. Those that could not be eliminated or stranded through duty often met sudden and violent ends that would frequently remain unsolved mysteries to their peers. Though it took years of preparation, slowly the loyalist presence in the legion whittled away to be replaced by indoctrinated raw recruits. When the time for betrayal came, the loyalists would be marginalized to the point of being unable to influence the outcome of the war.

Eve of Damnation

On the eve of the Heresy, the IXth legion stood at almost 130,000 strong. Quietly they had been building their strength to lend to Hektor's ambitions. To his banner they brought several fleets of swift and brutal warships, large formations of highly skilled rapid assault troops, and a respectable array of auxiliary forces upon which the Lion could draw. Among these stood an army of the mechanized Cramalthian Dragoons, and the swift knights of House Borgias. These troops had fought alongside the Lions across several campaigns, and had long proven themselves skilled allies in the high-speed warfare Cromwald's children pursued. These forces and more rallied around the five great divisions of the IXth to await their orders. The betrayals at Istvaan and Ostium marked the beginning of the long march. Crom had already briefed the marshals commanding his forces; each was intimately familiar with their targets and forces. First came the Keldim sector, marked as the start of a long and bloody harvest of imperial space. Across it and other sectors rapid campaigns were waged to feed the warmaster's rebellion. Shipyards and armories offered a surplus of captured weapons, and subjugated populations were conscripted, pressed to labor, or sacrificed to the dark gods. The first months of the long march saw Hektor's forces gifted a rallying point. At Keldim his troops could resupply and prepare for future conquests. Cromwald could not linger to savor his victory. The warmaster's grand campaign required decisive action, lest the Emperor's defenders rally to match their foe force for force. Mustering his legion he plunged headlong into a protracted campaign to pave the road to Terra. At his side stood Merrill, the bloody primarch of the Iron Rangers. With their combined forces they plowed forward in a twin-pronged assault into the flat-footed loyalists. Those who did not surrender or convert were ruthlessly slaughtered. For the first year of the war it seemed as if they were to march unopposed.

The Warpath

It was not until the Crusaders rose to meet the aggression head on that the wave of steel and madness was checked. At Troupo III Gaudin's finest clashed with the Lions Rampant in what would be remembered as one of the largest armored battles of the heresy. The brilliant maneuvers of the Lions 5th division were matched by the stubborn tenacity of the Crusaders as they battled for the fuel-rich sands of the scorched planet. In the end the world was reduced to a barren wasteland; Gaudin's strategy of denial robbed the Lions of the infrastructure needed to harvest the material wealth of the system. This became the template for a long and bitter clash of legions. The Crusaders waged a calculated withdrawal to bleed and slow the traitor advance. They defended what could be evacuated to their massing of troops on Terra, and fought to demolish what could not. Meanwhile the Lions pushed to capture war assets for their allies, using Merrill's hunters to decapitate enemy resistance while the swift riders pushed to outpace Gaudin's soldiers. The campaign would leave its scars on all legions involved; warbands drawn from the Lions' gene-seed would celebrate the destruction of a Crusader's successor for millennia to come.

Clash of Gods

The long march saw the Lions serving as Hektor's vanguard. Through their steady drive the traitors had captured hundreds of worlds bearing vital wartime assets. Men and materiel flocked to the warmaster's banner for the inevitable siege of the birthplace of man. All that lay between Hektor and Terra lay the Elume Elish sector. To this campaign the warmaster sent elements of three of his legions to wage war. Among them were the Lions Rampant, though Cromwald did not ride with them. His legion was to split, as the loyalists would soon be reinforced without direct action. His command battalion led three full divisions to Segmentum Pacificus to intercept the Steel Marshals. It was a bitter twist of fate that the two brothers, once close, now faced each other in a deadly struggle. Cromwald had spent years battling Thomas Gaudin's stalwart defense, and had taken to heart the lessons learned during the long march. Now it was his turn to fight a slow and steady withdrawal, using every trick and tool at his disposal to force Albrecht to lose time and momentum trying to battle past the Lions. The conflict became known as the Lions' Corridor, as the IXth held the swiftest stable warp route to Terra in their claws. With feints, ambushes and cunning ruses the smaller but nimbler legion bled the Marshals. To reach the Emperor Roman would have to sacrifice his legion and undo the strength the loyalists so badly needed. In an attempt to break the IXth and free his legion to move, he launched a daring assault on the Indomitable Sovereign, seeking to slay his brother in single combat. The venerable warship was low in anchor over the rocky fuel depots of Utaupa Tertius, and her forces ill prepared for the sudden strike. In a storm of vengeance the Marshals took to the field, swiftly proving their superior strength in battle. Yet as Cromwald and Roman squared off in a fateful duel, the Lion smiled. The embrace of Slaanesh had honed his skills and body both, making him much closer a match to his brother. They crossed swords in a climactic battle of skill and steel for a full hour, with no soldier from either side willing to intervene in the clash of two gods of war. Warp fueled power proved to be insufficient to best the Emperor's duelist. Roman gained the upper hand and slowly battered Cromwald back. The final blow was not destined to fall on Utaupa, though; Cromwald's mocking smile had hidden a base treachery that threatened Roman's legion. While he fought to behead the serpent his reserves had been pounced upon by the Lions in an ambush. Were he to fight on and slay his brother he would deny them his leadership with devastating consequences. Pressed between righteous vengeance and the preservation of his legion he called a full retreat. The bitter sting of defeat served as a deciding factor in the Marshal's strategy; Roman had realized that to reach Terra he would have to withdraw further and regroup. He withdrew his legion, leaving the Lions the uncontested masters of the corridor.

The Turning Tide

With the Elume Elish campaign ended, nearly the full strength of the Lions Rampant gathered at the stretch of space dubbed the Lions' Corridor. There they stood as a barrier for forces seeking to aid the Emperor's beleaguered defenders approaching from Segmentum Pacificus. The Steel Marshals were turned back, as were smaller battlegroups of both Imperial Army and Mechanicum forces. Any loyalists wishing to bypass the Lions would be forced to either brave the rough seas of the empyrean, or seek a safe passage weeks to months out of the way. To prevent this, Cromwald deployed each division across a vast swathe of space, where they would act as interdiction forces to all but the mightiest loyalist fleets. Combined with his auxilia, the legionaries proved to be a challenging roadblock. The holding action could not last, however. At Rosskar the Steel Marshals rallied ever greater numbers of men to their cause. Roman's return would be a tide of vengeance not easily resisted. Worse still, other legions were being drawn to the conflict as moths to the flame. A gathered assault spearheaded by the fifth had begun to press towards Terra from the galactic west, joined by elements of the Eyes of the Emperor. Cromwald was confident he could match any single legion, but to challenge three or more was suicide. In the final hours of the heresy his position had become untenable. Orders to retreat were issued to all troops under the Lions' command. They had done their duty to the warmaster; to waste their lives in a hopeless defense would deny them a galaxy at war to savor. They would regroup, and prepare to assault the loyalist rear flanks when they committed to battle.

Flight

The order to flank march never came. Hektor was slain in mortal combat with the Emperor, and his armies broken and forced to retreat. The loyalists hounded the routed traitors until Terra was safe, then turned inward to lick their wounds and muster their strength. It was reported that when the news reached the Sovereign, Cromwald broke into fell laughter that terrified even his greatest champion.

"Fickle are the whims of spurned gods. Hektor should have known better than to serve no master."

And with that, the order was given: the Lions were to flee. With so many fresh legionaries mustering at Terra, there could be no option but to escape the inevitable scouring of the galaxy. Most of his brethren fled north, to the Eye of Terror. Cromwald's pride would not allow him to be so easily trapped and caged by the loyalist march. He commanded his legion to flee east, into the far reaches of Ultima Segmentum. They would split, giving the loyalist hounds more rabbits to chase than they could catch. Much of his legion would be lost, but the Lions would not be exterminated or confined so long as the war could continue. Each division struck its path to the eastern fringe, trusting in their swift vessels to ferry them to safety. That which could not keep up was left behind to fight and stall the loyalists for as long as possible. Hundreds of thousands of auxilia troops found themselves abandoned by their masters and left to be slaughtered by the vengeful legionaries of the loyalist scouring. The titans that accompanied the IXth were similarly cast aside; there simply was no means of maintaining such powerful and complex machines during the flight. Many of the Legio Martyax (the Man-Eaters) were destroyed as they fled to the maelstrom for safety, leaving a grudge against the Lions that would last for thousands of years to come. Despite casting off the slower Mechanicum and auxilia battlegroups, the Lions did not escape unbloodied. In a bitter stand at Hundis the entirety of the 4th division was surrounded and isolated by a joint strike force of both Crusaders and Void Angels. The Lions fought tooth and nail, but could not stand against the combined might of their former brethren. Hundis was reduced to a cinder once the last of the Lions' fleet had been destroyed, leaving a barren rock surrounded by burnt out husks. Other battles were waged in smaller scale as battalions were hounded by the vengeful Imperials. Thomas Gaudin himself commanded the destruction of the infamous Lionhearts, and in doing so avenged the Crusaders' defeat at the agri-world of Sepnoy Terius some fifteen years before. In all, the Lions lost roughly half of the legion. When they finally reached the relative safety of the galactic rim to regroup Cromwald held command over a single reinforced division, stripped of much of its supporting forces.

Frontier, Conquest

With the Scouring ended, the Lions begin to move. Acting as a twisted parody of their efforts in the Great Crusade, they begin to raid the fringe systems of the outermost sectors of Imperial space. Originally treated as a minor threat, it is not until they begin to conquer systems aggressively that their low priority begins to scale up. In the meantime, they subjugate worlds in the name of Slaanesh, and Cromwald ascends to daemonhood for the debasement of whole populations billions strong.

Downfall

A crusade is put together to push back the tide of darkness sweeping along the outer edge of Imperial space, backed by numerous chapters of Astartes and regiments of Imperial Guard. In the end the conquest was too ambitious; the Lions are defeated, scattered and their primarch banished to the warp. As a legion the Lions are no more; they scatter and break up into warbands, many finding refuge in the immaterium. It is a blow they never fully recover from, even on the great black crusades.

Culture of the IXth

Recruitment

In the early days of the crusade, the Highland Raiders were drawn from the conquered warriors of northern Albyon and stretches of Franc. The men chosen to become astartes were selected on account of their hardiness and indomitable spirit. As part of the recruitment rites, applicants were subjected to numerous tests of will and fortitude by their people. These culminated in a sojourn across the wintry wastes of the Albyon highlands to the transports responsible for claiming the tithe of men. Only those who could brave the bitter cold and savage fauna to reach their new masters would become the Emperor's warriors.

The newly augmented marines then faced the crucible of war with only a basic indoctrination period. Training and discipline were instilled rapidly over a scant handful of years before feeding the men into the furnace of battle. This made for a high rate of attrition to the Raider's forces, but also forged a core body of seasoned warriors from those who endured, and reinforced the culture of unbreakable will and grim resolve.

With the coming of Cromwald, this practice changed dramatically. During the restructuring of the legion he shifted recruitment from the wastes of Terra to the now flourishing world of Sommesgard, and instated new methods of drawing troops from their human stock. At first, the mandate came that his marines would be built from the children of officers who served in the planetary defense corps, given their pedigree and training from youth. This worked for a time, but the needs of the crusade would mandate before the decade was out that more recruits be trained. So the edict was passed that all young men of viable age born to the military arm of the Lions' homeworld would be registered for conscription. Academies were raised to train the youth of the world to meet the needs of the legion; they offered education in tactics, sciences, humanities and the arts. These schools became some of the most prestigious institutions across the face of the planet, and acceptance was a high honor. They were expensive to enroll in, ensuring that most of the students held a pedigree own renown. These children were groomed to one day become leaders among Lions, serving to guide their brothers drawn from lesser classes by means of draft lotteries and mass conscription.

On the day of conscription, every prospective recruit faces his first taste of life among the Emperor's vanguard. The young men are grouped together and subjected to a week of constant trial, pitting them against their peers. Each group must complete several objectives, scattered across a broad stretch of land cultivated to be difficult to navigate, all while knowing that those who fail lose their chance to become space marines. Dubbed the Crucible, it weeds out those who lack the spirit to become more than men, and is judged by a panel of captains in command of the recruiting companies. They choose candidates to fill out fresh platoons to replace those already graduated to one of the crusading fleets using not the success of the mission as their measure, but of the performance of the men as they face a task meant to be nearly impossible. Those who falter, despair or break in the face of insurmountable odds are seldom given a chance to be any more than a legion serf or servitor. Meanwhile, those who exhibit fortitude of will, cunning, and an indomitable spirit are taken to the vast training grounds surrounding the legion fortress to begin their implantation and training.

A Legion Fallen and Fragmented

The already divided organization of the Lions Rampant did little to prevent the splintering of the legion. Before his banishment to the warp, Cromwald maintained supreme control as the chosen of Slaanesh. Upon losing their leader, however, the Lions fragmented under lesser warlords. Their armies and warbands began to build their own infamy across the centuries.

The Tyrants Legion

Warriors of the Whispering Tyrant, a Chaos Lord of Slaanesh that is reported to draw from the souls of those he faces their darkest secrets, and whisper terrible things to their mind. A generalist warband with a high concentration of sorcerors, they are based on a small stronghold near the Maelstrom, where the tides of the warp hide them from Imperial Justice.

The Lions Claws

Formed around an armored brigade that split from the legion, they are a horde of vehicle mounted marines that delight in the thunder of treads and the roar of big guns. Praising Slaanesh from their iron steeds, they raid for slaves and victims to satisfy their need for violence, flesh and souls. Their master reportedly feeds his Vanquisher pattern Predator tank the blood and souls of his victims to bring the daemon within to compliance. Where the tank rides, it is accompanied by the tortured screams and ecstatic howls of those condemned to the daemon's clutches.

Writefaggotry in progress

The Trial of General Betroval

--/Pict feed begins./-- Subject (identified General Griffon Betroval, age 98) is seated in center of wide chamber, stripped to only trousers and shackles. Pict focuses on Betroval. Blurred human figure in ornate long coat (Subject (i)) crosses pict source. Sudden light fixes on Betroval, causing him to flinch and squint.

Voice(i?): General Betroval. What has it been, three days? Three days, bound before this court. Three days denying the truth of your crimes before the Imperium.

BETROVAL: I have told you! I told you I am no traitor! You have the evidence for yourself!

Voice(i?): You deny still, then, the charges leveled before you?

BETROVAL: Yes! I do!

Voice(i?): In spite of the evidence to the contrary, to your cowardice and treachery?

BETROVAL: I have told you, I am no traitor! Your evidence shows that I have done nothing but my duty!

Subject (i) crosses pict source again, stepping into the light. Still pict capture identifies Subject (i) as Inquisitor Thaddeus Kranz. Kranz strikes Betroval with an open backhand.

KRANZ: Duty? You are unfit to have such a word on your tongue. Perhaps, though, if not I...perhaps you could say such things to your own men? Lie to them as you do to me, general.

BETROVAL: My men? You bastard, they died in the Emperor's name! How dare you...

Kranz cuts Betroval off with a second strike to the face. Betroval begins to speak, but falls silent, growing visibly pale (Poss anemia? Consult Medicae log). Kranz turns and gestures beyond scope of pict-feed in direction of Betroval's gaze.