Caligor Kincaid

Caligor Kincaid
Title/Honours	"Mad Cal" Kincaid, Eagle Lord, Skybreaker
Discovered (period)	872.M30
Legion	Seventh
Heraldry/Sigil
Fate	Deceased

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[Insert Fancy Quote Here].

(Excerpt from [Source] by Gaspard Lumey)

History

Youth

The lost infant's pod crashed into the heart of Taletar, one of the greatest countries of the war torn planet of Haravi, an advanced world dominated by sprawling cities and industrial agriculture. The center of Taletar was the breadbasket of the world, wheat and corn being grown in staggering amounts. The infant crashed in a family owned section of crop, his impact set the entire field ablaze, and from the ashes of the fields the humble farming couple found a son bathed in what they called a divine glow. His adoptive parents, Alistar and Maria Kincaid, named him Caligor, a name fit for a King they said. First thought of as a curse due to the ill fortune that seemed to follow the young boy, the child soon proved himself as a blessing, growing faster than any of their other children (who resented the boy for the razing of their crop with his arrival and his miraculous nature), and the mishaps and catastrophes that followed him faded with age. Caligor at the age of five was helping to till and sow the fields, and at the age of twelve was able to reap the entire crop in a few nights by hand, saving the declining clan who had been relying on their quickly depleting grain stores. Caligor quickly became a local legend, tilling fields single handedly and beating back gangs with his brothers, who after some time accepted him as a friend and brother. Once the Primarch reached his eighteenth year it was clear his sleepy farm town would never be big enough for him, outclassing everyone of his school mates in sports and the liberal arts, his blunt and cocky nature hiding a shrewd and passionate orator that believed deeply in the fundaments of his nation, that of Democracy, freedom, and liberty for all.

So he did what any proud Taletarian would do in such times of conflict and enlisted in the Taletarian Army along side his brothers and eldest sister. Here in the crucible of military training the humble farming Kincaids found their strength and teamwork honed into the skills of talented soldiers. Caligore himself was noted almost immediately upon his induction to the force for his freakish physique and almost supernatural affinity for combat. After his initial training he was taken from his siblings and introduced to the Taletarian Elite Commandos. Here the Primarch was to be tested to his limits, but there he only found excitement and greater brotherhood. Here he learned the secrets of airborne and recon warfare, hitting the enemy where it hurts the hardest.

After months of highly rigorous training and recognition for his skill in battle skills and leadership, Caligore was finally deemed ready to go down range and meet the enemy. The greatest enemy to the safety of Taletar in this age of World War was the ever expanding nation of Bravig. Driven by religious imperative, powered by ancient technology, and supported by vassal states, Bravig was an unstoppable juggernaut across Haravian hemisphere, Telatar only protected by political neutrality. But their time of safety would come to an end as they conquered the nation of Fvalen, a steadfast ally of Taletar and a source of major trade. It was for this reason that the Primarch found himself on a stealth jet to the Fvalish mountains on a mission to clear out Bravigian bunkers on the mountain side. In the weeks Caligore's Commandos spent in those mountains over a hundred enemy soldiers died on those slopes, and the brash and bold idealist farmer became a deadly soldier.

But the fledgling Primarch wouldn't be so shaken by violence, his genetic calling. Instead his escapades across Fvalen as Captain Kincaid only served to embolden him, wearing his kills and skills as a badge of honour. If one were to hear about him from his soldiers, he was a god damned war hero. To hear about the famed Caligore Commandos from any other unit that has worked with him, he was a braggart and a maniac wiping his soldiers up like a wild conductor over an orchestra of grinning madmen. No matter who you talked to however, it could be agreed that he at the very least a good leader. He always measured a soldier by their capability and motivation, both in equal measure, and never tasked a soldier with a task he himself wouldn't do (a somewhat hilarious standard considering that he was the largest, and possibly the most deadly, individual on the planet), and as insufferable as less high speed soldiers found his bravado, it was nothing short of infectious.

The Taletarian Army burned through Fvalen, liberating the country in a short three months and recouping the Fvalish military, and forming and allied coalition with the remaining free nations of Haravi to turn the tides against the Bravigian invasion. The largest factor in the success of the campaign was the tactical ineptitude of the enemy. For all their arcane technology and ancient, powerful machinery the Bravigian military preferring to operate from trenches and bunkers, or using extremely outdated tactics such as line firing. However the secret behind their vast empire of slave nations was their vast nuclear arsenal, an ancient stockpile of doomsday weapons left from the Dark Age of Technology. The threat of nuclear annihilation was usually more than enough to bring any nation they wished to heel. Taletar, however, was not known for its cowardice in the face of danger. Unfortunately their burgeoning campaign had angered the nuclear powerhouse, and the Bravigian establishment threatened the world with nuclear decimation should every nation on Haravi not lay down their arms.

Their hands forced, the coalition entered a cease fire to negotiate the terms of surrender. However, in a desperate move to escape the clutches of tyranny, the Taletarian High Command concocted a bold plan inspired from recent intelligence. Commando units from across the coalition would infiltrate Bravig, and utilizing the fresh intelligence intercepted from the enemy, seize the nuclear launch sites, and hold the world hostage until Bravig and their "allies" surrendered unconditionally. This risky plan was to headed by none other than Colonel Caligor "Mad Cal" Kincaid himself.

Personality

Caligor is nothing short of bold, a character filled with an abundance of bravado. Caligor is quick to make a crude joke and a light-hearted jest at the expense of another, all in fun rarely in insult. Fond of fighting, drinking, and women the Primarch comes of as more of a crude soldier than a lofty Primarch. In fact Caligor much prefers the company of his officers and soldiers, even those within the Imperial army than that of his "Father" or many of his "brothers". That is not to say he is completely asocial with other legions, in fact he can be quite jovial and relaxed, especially when working with Primarchs from whom he can believe he can learn something from. In his private times the idealistic farmer of his youth emerges, Caligor becoming a student of history and rhetoric, especially in matters warfare and the mind and spirit of a warrior. Despite his laid back gung ho and cocksure nature, in these quiet hours Caligor feels most at peace. The only other time he truly feels at home is upon the battlefield.

In the battle field he is a silent tempest, patrolling the battlefield like a shark, until the shooting begins and he transforms into a laughing, grinning maniac, laying down fire like a tempest. Where one warrior would find a desperate, losing battle Kincaid finds a grand joke and riddle that can only be solved with ultraviolence. Beyond the joy he finds in battle he is exceedingly fatalistic, preferring to risk his own life as opposed to that of his men, a tactic that even he can admit is fool hardy but it is better than feeding his men to a meat grinder battle.

=Appearance

Short and stocky Caligor is one of the shortest Primarchs, Roman being the only primarch to fall underneath him in height (a fact he often jests about). His dirty blonde hair is cut short in military fashion, often hidden by his old Commando beret. Thick stubble decorates his face, intersected with scars and nicks. The skin about the corner of his mouth and cheeks scarred, the marks of when he screamed with such fury his mouth tore open. A great snaking scar runs down his face intersecting a cut across his crooked nose, marks from his fateful encounter with a fellow primarch during the Siege of Terra. Perhaps once he would have been called statuesque, but now he has more in common with a lump of clay, or dented bronze figure.