Judgement Bringers
| Judgement Bringers | ||
|---|---|---|
| Battle Cry | "Judgement is upon you!" or "Death! DEAAATH!!" | |
| Number | VII | |
| Primarch | Enoch the Relentless | |
| Homeworld | Terra, formerly fleet based | |
| Specialty | Shock and awe, heavy ordnance | |
| Allegiance | Dark Imperium | |
| Colours | Grey, red, bone | |
The Judgement Bringers are the seventh legion in the /tg/ alternate history 40k timeline Imperium Asunder. They are a balanced force, but one that leans on shock and awe tactics, heavy ordnance, and sometimes heavy vehicles. The primarch of the Judgement Bringers is Enoch the Relentless, whose growing hatred of his 'father' the Emperor was key in the warmaster gaining the allegiance of Legio: VII, which was ultimately key to the Emperor's death and the creation of the Dark Imperium.
Summary of Legion VII
Homeworld
The Judgement Bringers were originally a fleet-based legion. Unsurprisingly, Enoch held no affection towards the arid rock he grew up on. In a self-indulgent moment, his first act as primarch of the Judgement bringers was to bring his fleet to that tiny planet and have his guns pulverize it into space dust. After the death of the Emperor and the corruption of Segmentum Solar, the warmaster 'suggested' that Enoch establish Terra as an adoptive homeworld for his legion. Enoch spends most of his time upon his flagship, Inheritance, avoiding the twisted spires and demonic instability of Terra.
Tactics
Organization
Legion History
Enoch's Discovery
Enoch was the 11th primarch reunited with the Emperor, when he was found on a nameless barren rock in the galactic north.
Wind and sand. He couldn't tell how long it had been, but that was all he knew. His entire universe. Alone in the drifting wastes and rocky crags, his only companion the wind and the sand. It was impossible to remember, but he had landed here, as an infant. How had he survived those early years into adulthood? Were the chaos gods twisting fate knowing that this lonely little thing would someday serve them? Even in adulthood, how did the sand not scrape off his skin and flesh until he was nothing? To the wanderer it did not matter. To the wanderer it could not matter, for he had no memory of landing here, no inkling of how his genes grew him into a titanic man in mere years. No, for him things were always the same. Existence was grit in his eyes, sucking on dried bones, chewing on dead plants. Wind and sand. And nothing else."
But then there was something else. Thunder and lights, golden lights, a haze through the dust storm. This was not sand. This was not wind. This was something... different? The wanderer felt something he did not understand. He had no word for it, no concept of it at all. Was this curiosity? Out of the thunder and lights, out of the dust there became a shape, a cold and hard shape with sharp edges and straight lines, and out of the shape came striding a figure clad in gleaming plate.
"Father."