Ashur of Banipal
| Ashur of Banipal | |
|---|---|
| |
| Title/Honours |
The Megatherion, The Lord of Bronze and Bone, The Behemoth, The Planeswalker |
| Discovered (world) |
Babylon V |
| Discovered (period) |
846.M30 |
| Legion | |
| Great Crusade Command |
Primarch, 37th Expeditionary fleet |
| Heraldry/Sigil |
|
| Unique Weapon |
The Spiked Maul, powerfists "Thunderclap" and "Sky Shatter" |
| Distinguishing Traits |
Diplomat, Empath, Close Combat Brawler |
| Flaws |
Weak-willed, appeasing, |
| Brotherwar role |
Traitor (Undivided) |
| Fate |
Becomes a Daemonprimarch |
This page is part of the Warmasters Triumvirate, a fan re-working of the Warhammer 40,000 Universe. See the Warmasters Triumvirate page for more information on the Alternate Universe.
Ashur of Banipal is the 10th found Primarch, and genesire of the Loxodontii. A gentle soul and an earthy personality, he loved the common people and tried to keep close familial ties with his primarch brothers, however his attempts were not reciprocated by all of them and in fact viewed as a weakness of his character. In fact his leniency and wish to please would eventually lead to a grave betrayal in his legion and the corruption of several other Space Marine legions. Having grown up among the nomad tribes of his homeworld Babylon V, he became accustomed to working with vehicles and quick raids, which he would later adapt into his legion's core stratagem in order to force their enemies to surrender. If he could not avoid joining combat himself, Ashur would either bring his trusted spiked maul or equip his two thunderfists and swat enemies away with his fierce power. He was prone to a reckless rage that he himself often regretted in the aftermath, which is why he preferred diplomacy and directing his troops' movements.
History
Primarch Origin
Ashur was hurled unto the surface of the arid feudal world of Babylon V after the Dark Gods of Chaos had dragged his incubation pod from the Emperor’s laboratory. During this time, the infant primarch would phase in and out of real space, beholding both the beauty and horror of the void of space and the warp, which would later deeply influence his person. His coming was like a falling star, and the priesthood of the stargazing people would be in utter chaos, not knowing whether to view it as a dark omen or a sign of prosperity. The crash landing of Ashur’s vessel shook the entire planet and the population of nearby settlements threw up their hands, begging the gods above and below to spare them their wroth.
It wasn’t long until the orphan was found, although not by the civilised world, but pagan caravans who relied on both mechanised vehicles and sturdy animals like camels and elephants to carry their goods. As he grew up, so did Ashur quickly take to both engineering and caring for animals. Although their lifestyle did not allow his clan many luxuries, they existed in peace and good health, which is where the later primarch learned to be a kind soul and to see the kindness and good in all his fellow men and women. This would later be his downfall.
The young man quickly grew to stature and strength beyond all his fellow clan members, sometimes carrying nearly the same load as a fully matured elephant, and his great intellect allowed him to easily process even the miniscule details of their flat surroundings. His charismatic, endearing personality made him many friends and made him a formidable merchant. He would often go to the great cities of Babylon V, where he would first taste the finer things in life and stoked his love for jewelry and little luxuries. It was in this time a calf was born and the mother died in childbirth. As he had always been enamoured with the thick skinned beasts, he quickly took to nurturing the babe and called it Ninki. Eventually, the calf would grow into a strong and healthy cow, taller than other females and becoming the leading animal in the caravan’s herd. The two became inseparable, and Ashur would often sleep not in his own tent but with his “little sister”, as many called her in jest. For many years, the primarch’s caravan grew and prospered and he himself earned much respect from his fellow people. Eventually, however, the prosperity of Ashur’s family led to their neighbours scheming their doom in envy.
On the eve of his official maturity (as he had become a fully grown man long before, but simply wasn’t “of age”), the enemy struck. Their tents were set ablaze, their trailers were either destroyed or stolen, their animals slaughtered, and they themselves were murdered or enslaved. Ashur himself was so overwhelmed by the brutality of fellow humans that he stood in shock, watching as terrible violence was wreaked on his people. It was then and there that a terrible fury overcame him, a numbing rage that crept up his spine and clouded his mind. All by himself did he slaughter dozens of their attackers, tearing them limb from limb, crushing them underfoot and hurling their dying remains across the camp. He only woke from his blind stupor in the late morning. It was the sound of carrion birds feasting on the dead that pulled him back to reality. He stood amidst the ruins of his former life, surrounded by mauled bodies, the festive ceremonial clothes on his back splattered with blood and gore. In shock he tore it off his body and threw it into the smouldering fires, where the drenched cloth only slowly sizzled away. Exhausted and wounded he fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. This fateful event cut Ashur so deeply he fell into a crushing depression as his world had shattered around him.
Yet, he was given no respite. Now, weak as he was, his enemies returned and chained him, an archeotech collar around his neck supposed to keep him mindless and obedient. The measure however was superfluous – Ashur’s spirit had already been broken at that moment. He was brought back into the great city of Banipal, where his knowledge of engineering was used to help maintain the vast mechanical underground complexes. Obedient and thoughtless like a servitor he toiled, uncaring whether it was day or night, improving processes as needed although he did not know why, as if a spark deep within him spurred him on to make things better than they were before. Another decade passed and Ashur’s knowledge of technology had not only surpassed all of his superiors, but he in turn had increased theirs as he alone managed to unravel the mysteries of long abandoned archeotech. He could never explain how he accomplished such a feat, and when asked he would often say that he’d prayed to the spirit trapped within, as he had so many times with the trailers of his family.
During his time he had once again made many friends despite his automaton-like behaviour. Not even the archeotech strapped to his neck could suppress his warm and helpful nature. Whenever he saw a slave stumble and fall under the weight of their load, Ashur picked it up. Some would say it was not out of compassion but simply efficiency, but many who looked into his eyes claimed to see a deep sadness and a glimmer of empathy. Pitied by many like a docile beast unknowing that it deserved much better was Ashur and eventually, his fellow slaves plotted to liberate him of his chains. They broke the archeotech collar from his neck in the deep of the night and guided him to freedom, outside the great city of Banipal. Although he himself was still like a child, he smiled at his friends and thanked them with gentle hugs and tears of joy, and then made off into the night.
For weeks he wandered, living off the land and actually thriving again, healing, far away from humanity, his mind a simple, primitive thing like that of a wild beast. He would hunt and forage when hungry, would drink when thirsty, would sleep when exhausted. Eventually, he would come across another caravan, small and weak, and he would follow them, observing from the distance, giving them small hints for water sources and hiding stashes of food in their reserves. When one of their animals ran away, he would return it, and if one of their machineries failed, he would repair it – All the while being unseen. Soon the caravan would start believing they were blessed by a good spirit and left food and water out for him, in return. Although he had no need for it, being able to easily fend for himself, he would still graciously accept. One day though he was discovered. His trauma kept him silent though polite, distancing himself as to not become too attached, but his compassion and love for the people overcame his coldness and he became part of their tribe.
The cycle repeated itself, with Ashur greatly improving the life of his tribesmen and -women, increasing their wealth and maintaining their machinery. One fateful day, they came across the tattered ruins of a caravan camp. The bleached bones of animals and people lay scattered on the field. Within the primarch rose a feeling of unease, the sense of familiarity creeping up his spine. Eventually, they stumbled over an elephant skeleton, and Ashur knew where he was. This was his old family, picked clean by carrion birds, and in front of him lay the remains of his beloved little sister. It all came crashing down on him and the mountain of a human being crumbled like a frail elder, cradling the skull of Ninki to his chest and weeping bitterest tears of sadness. A whole day and night did he mourn while his caravan camped an hour away, deeply shaken to see their patron so broken. On the next sunrise did Ashur return, the skull in hand, claiming the forge and dousing his “little sister’s” skull in bronze. Over the course of the following day and night, he carefully polished and cleaned the bronze, carving the inscriptions of his first tribe into it, writing “Ninki protects me” into the shimmering metal along with many spells and prayers of good fortune and protection. It wasn’t until the following morning that he resurfaced, his sister’s skull strapped to his shoulder, his hands burnt and his face befilthed by soot and charcoal.
As time passed did once again the envy and jealousy of man rise and endanger Ashur’s peace. Rival tribes had identified Ashur and quickly reported to the great city of Banipal, whose merchant lords and priests had feverishly scoured the land for their prized slave. Troops were sent, and once again did they assault Ashur’s caravan in the cover of the night. But this time, they didn’t have a ceremony to make their prey drunk and uncaring.
Just as they fired their first shots, so were grenades lobbed into their midst and the roaring of engines tore through the night. The caravan’s trailers had been modified into battle wagons, their crude turrets allowing their operators to keep their attackers pinned in place while bikeriders flanked them and pummelled them with explosives. After the first assault, a tremor shook the earth, and from behind the cover of their trailers came forth Ashur clad in plates of scrap metal, wielding a giant spiked maul, the elephant’s skull on his shoulder gleaming in the muzzle flash of blazing guns, his eyes aflame with terrible anger and his throat bellowing a deafening war cry. In his wake followed his tribesmen equipped with long knives and pistols, and like a pack of starved hyenas fell the mob over the stunned and disoriented enemies. The battle did not last long, and the troops from Banipal routed in chaos, chased by the screams of their dying and the victorious howling of Ashur’s new tribe.
The primarch himself was lost again to a bloodthirsty stupor, but not numbed by it. He was invigorated, empowered, and although he still mourned the loss of life from both friend and foe, the experience of combat felt so natural. He realised, in a way, that it was no different from hunting wild game or butchering a camel for food. Just as food came to his mind, he realised a smacking sound around him, and as he turned to face the noise he realised his tribesmen were gorging themselves on their fallen enemies. Disgusted by this gruelling display he shouted and ordered them to stop, that he forbade them their practice. Confused they stared at him, slowly backing off from their meal, but nonetheless eyeing their most cherished clan members with suspicion. Ashur could see in their hazy gazes that they wanted to challenge him, but their tribal bonds and better judgement stayed their hands.
He ordered them all to clean themselves and go to bed, while he retreated into the night. Sleep did not come easy, as the rest of his tribe didn’t follow his orders to a T, instead sneaking out to strip the dead off their flesh and belongings. Ashur knew he had to stop them, but he did not want to lose another family, so he let them have their way. Just this one time, he swore. His leniency that night would spark just another of many insurrections to his authority.
Many battles would be fought over the following weeks, until the primarch could no longer pretend that he could return to his peaceful life. If he was to live life free and safe, he would have to cull the threat. Over the course of a month, he united almost all neighbouring nomad tribes through diplomacy, bargaining and, if inevitable, violence. His knowledge of technology allowed him to craft machines and weaponry that rivalled the quality of their enemies. The following months were spent campaigning, conquering major routes and bringing more tribes into the fold, until Ashur was certain he would be able to take the ones responsible for hounding him so: The merchant lords and priests of the great city of Banipal.
The attack began slowly. First, supplies were cut off. “Raids”, it was called, “Highwaymen” stealing their goods. The upper echelon of Banipal sent their troops to investigate and punish the culprits, but none ever returned. The signs were crystal clear in hindsight, but the elites of the great city had become complacent in their luxury, not expecting that they could ever come under a direct attack from the rural populace outside their walls. To them, the events were too disconnected, too random. It wasn’t until the great city of Banipal was surrounded with camps, barricades and siege cannons that they realised that they were trapped – And that they could never hold an attack.
While the lords and priests had indulged in their luxuries and pomp did Ashur’s spies infiltrate the city and recruited the slaves for their cause, leaving crucial defense mechanisms unmanned and damaged. The great city of Banipal was taken in one fell swoop, and as Ashur’s army stood at the palace gates did the lords and ladies come forth to surrender and beg for mercy. Some were pardoned, others were hung from the city gates, and some banished to the arid wilderness where they would fend for their lives in penance.
Ashur, despite wanting to return to the plains himself, was convinced by his closest friends to don the mantle of king, thus becoming Ashur of Banipal, the lord of Bronze and Bone. It was here that he truly realised potential, improving supply lines between cities, fortifying trade caravans and returning the great cities to a glory of time immemorial as he and his most gifted machinists and engineers repaired the archeotech installations. Although many still envied him, hated him, the majority of Babylon V loved him. Ashur himself remained humble and often ventured into the wild at his leisure, visiting the nomad tribes and trading caravans. Yet his duties only increased, allowing him less and less time in the wild and chaining him more and more to the royal palace, where he was surrounded with luxury, pomp and overindulgent wealth. While his rule brought the planet to a new glory, his good nature was exploited by remaining nobles and figures of authority, and although everything was still going strong, more and more influence was wrestled from the primarch under the guise of delegation.
The Great Crusade
On the eve to the 78th anniversary of Ashur’s ascension to king of Banipal came a stranger to Babylon V and praising the primarch’s good work. That man later revealed himself to Ashur as the Emperor of Mankind in private, and he told Ashur of all the great things they could undertake if he joined the Emperor’s crusade across the stars. Ashur hesitated, believing that his absence would lead to Babylon V falling into a state of disrepair, again. His suspicions would later turn out to be true, but at the time the Emperor swayed him, promising of all the good he would be able to do, how he could improve the lives of people throughout the galaxy and helping to create an Imperium of planets where humans of all kinds would be able to live their days in peace. Ashur eventually agreed, and for the first time since his infancy did he travel into space and behold the beauty of the void. It was here he was reunited with his Legion, the thirteenth, calling themselves “Packmules” in jest for they were specialist drivers used for logistics and deployment of other troops. Ashur was immediately awestruck and recognised the deep connection to his genesons, and he would be seen embracing whole squads at once and celebrating their reunion in his own way. His Legionnaires, not used to such gleeful affection, quickly overcame their military demeanour and returned it in kind.
Ashur had entrusted all his chapter commanders with his full support, as he saw himself as the first among equals, and his genesons vowed to do everything in their capacity to not disappoint him. In fact, seeing how much the separation of primarch and astartes hurt both sides emotionally, Ashur proclaimed that his chapter commanders would be as much primarch unto the other astartes as he would be, and that they should be loyal and faithful to them as they would be unto him. This order brought about quite some confusion, yet at the same time the Lord of Bronze and Bone had deeply anchored the strong ties of loyalty and brotherhood in his legion, and the idea to embrace their chapter commander’s wisdom and righteousness would only further breed a sense of internal reliability. If only he had seen what this sense of self-reliance would cause in his genesons, maybe Ashur had been wise to decide otherwise.
Over the course of the Great Crusade, Ashur would repeatedly face the harsh reality of being a Space Marine primarch as he would have to fight time and time again, making his heart bleed at the loss of life and destruction in his wake. He would often face criticism over his delicate approach from his brothers and the Emperor, as his progress of bringing worlds to compliance was always slower than other primarchs'. The first and most devastating experience of his military career was the conquest of the Domush sector. The local population fought with unparalleled zeal for their sector's self-declared Emperor and proved to be a worthy match for the Astartes, much to Ashur's personal frustration. After their campaign was ended succesfully, Ashur worried that having to shed blood in such cruelty was to be his fate forever until the end of his days.
Another grievous experience to the Lord of Bronze and Bone was his campaign on the planet Yar Kin Nu alongside the Chosen of Hecate and their primarch Lambach Kropor. Having grown up superstitious and fearful of "wychcraft", he was shaken deeply at the sudden revelation that his battlebrothers were also psykers during the climactic battle at the planetary capitol Dom Ran Kin. Before that very battle, he and Lambach had exchanged many words and he had grown to love Lambach the most out of his brothers that had been discovered up until that point, and so the realisation of Lambach's talents hit Ashur hard.
After the battle at Ullanor and the Emperor's terrible defeat, Ashur became ever more unruly at the seemingly increasing pressure of Terran bureaucracy and its dictatorial rule, and he would often be heard criticising the Lords of Terra - Unofficially, of course. Apart from this, many reports would reach Ashur involving questionable military actions and collateral damage caused by his Loxodontii legionnaires. He would ignore them, not wanting to doubt his own genesons and waving the reports off as misunderstanding or exaggeration. Eventually, he could not ignore them anymore as they became more detailed, and more numerous. He realised he had to take back control over his legion by force and purge his chain of command.
Brotherwar
As he assembled his forces in orbit over Babylon V and was about to execute his chapter commanders, all but two of them ordered their forces to open fire and take their primarch hostage. While they initially planned to kill him, they couldn't, and Ashur was instead collared again by an archeotech collar that made his mind docile and submissive. In the wake of this betrayal, Ashur was held in the cargo hold of the Anu, his own flagship, strapped to a gruesome machine and doused day and night in the blood of butchered serfs as a ritual was acted out on him. At the height of his legions frenzied infighting and the arrival of a punitive fleet to destroy the Loxodontii and free Ashur, the ritual reached its conclusion, fusing his flesh and the machine into one monstrous body and elevating him to Daemonhood. As the legion fractured and the warbands escaped into different directions, Ashur himself would be held in a state of restless sleep aboard the Anu until he would be visited by Lambach Kropor, who returned a portion of Ashur's own mind and restored his vitality through warpsorcery. Ashur, in turn, would then be swayed by Lambach to join the efforts of Marduk Engur to attack Terra and kill the Emperor, as Ashur now believed Lambach had been visited and blessed by the Babylonian gods.
Ashur and the Loxodontii played a role in breaching the outermost defenses of the Imperial Palace, but not before murdering, butchering and devouring the civilian population. Je'She faced the Daemonprimarch and the Loxodontii with his own Sentinels. Once the Chaos Traitors had been defeated, Ashur would be banished to the Warp, forever roaming the chaotic Otherworld in search for prey.
Fate & Legacy
Ashur of Banipal roams the Warp and is summonned by his legionnaires as a mighty beast of war to crush and devour their enemies. His mind fluctuates between catatony, a beastial sentience and a lucid awareness alike his former, human form.
Rules
N/A