Well, welcome to Chapter 15 of the Special Founding. As always I claim no ownership of Warhammer 40k, just playing around in the universe. Enjoy.

"My name is Aragorn of the Iron Drakes, and I would speak to your king."

I looked down into the fear filled eyes of the soldiers gathering around us, a wall of iron and flesh as they rushed into formation. I was impressed by the speed in which they acted, spears leveled against us, the sun above shining off their sharpened points.

The civilians nearby hid behind buildings and carts, the Astartes before them like nothing they had ever seen. My eyes traveled the old stone they used as refuge. Inside the walls the castle was a patchwork of connecting buildings, one large hold dominating the center of the space, archers perched in its towers.

My attention went from studying the odd buildings to the large double doors in the front, opening to a retinue of soldiers. Clad in thicker armor they flanked two men, one was older, a staff in his hand with a stone of black atop it. His face and gate showed his age, leaning on his staff as he walked. But his eyes held knowledge, wisdom of years. The other was younger, eyes weary, a crown of black metal rested atop his head.

The king came forward, past the ring of soldiers and stopped a few meters away, his eyes trailing Ignis and myself before he spoke.

"I am Phebaro, ruler of this city and the surrounding lands." He paused, his gaze going to the thunderhawk before coming back to me.

"I know of you Iron Drake, destroyer of cities and ruler of many to the east. Why have you come here?" I lifted my hand to my helmet and twisted, a slight hiss as the locks disengaged. I breathed in unfiltered air for a moment, taking in hundreds of scents at one, categorizing them before turning my attention back to the mortal king. Everybody present glued their attention to the action, gazing upon my image.

"I have come to offer you a new life, a better path for you and your people. One away from the war and death that stalks your days." Phebaro's face dipped into a frown, thinking over my words for a moment before speaking.

"You offer us subjugation." I could only nod, hearing his heart start to beat in his chest, thumping against his ribs.

"And if we refuse? If we won't bow to your rule?" The men around him adjusted the grips on their weapons, my own sons let their hands fall to their blades. Ignis rose to his full height, the ground shaking at the shift of his weight, eyes casting judgment upon the tiny soul.

"Then your city will suffer and your bloodline will end. Should you accept, you and your children will continue to rule, we offer vassalship, peace and prosperity in exchange for your loyalty. We are going to stop the pointless wars and bring the Clans together under one rule. You can join us and bring glory to your people, or be forgotten for all time." Ignis took that moment to move, coming to stand behind me, smoke curling from his nostrils. Phebaro looked at the men around him, eyes conflicted.

"Its that or death then." It wasn't a question, but a simple statement of fact. I took in a breath, wondering what words would turn the mortals mind.

"I am not a tyrant Phebaro, I have no desire to have you or your people become slaves, I offer you a place in our kingdom, we are a powerful ally to have on one's side." He looked to his advisor and the old man nodded, his eyes looking at me not with fear, but with eagerness.

Phebaro stared at him for a few seconds before turning back to me, lifting his crown off his head and throwing it at my feet before kneeling into the grass.

"Then I kneel, and accept your offer." I gave the mortal king a small smile, the tension in the air fading as his men followed suit after him, different looks of confusion and hope on their faces. I stepped up to Phebaro, kneeling down too hold out a hand, raising him to his feet.

"You have made a difficult choice, but in the coming years you will know that it was the best decision you could have made." He looked up at the Drake behind me and slowly shook his head.

"I am not a coward, but fighting such a beast inside my city would only end in disaster." I felt the smallest bit of annoyance flare from Ignis at being called a beast, but the rest of his words stoked his pride, satisfaction coming across our bond. I raised a hand up, Ignis lowering his head enough so that I can scratch his chin.

"Ignis wouldn't burn down your city unless I asked him too, your actions here today have ensured that never need happen." I wouldn't have burned down the city regardless, I wanted to bring its people into our fold, not kill thousand of them in fire. The king turned to his soldiers.

"Let the people know, we have new masters now." My brow dipped for a moment, rising into a questioning look as I stared down at him.

"What do you mean?" The kings eyes flickered to his advisor before he turned to me, the scent of nervousness coming off him in droves.

"You are not the first outsiders we have knelt to, years ago, my grandfather knelt to a different man, and we have been paying in blood ever since." I stared for a moment before chuckle made its way passed my lips, aware that I had been used just as I was using him.

"And as your new lords, it's our duty to protect you from the backlash that will come." The king's eyes grew fearful for a moment, but they held a steel in them that wouldn't be bent, I found myself respecting it.

"It is only right." Perhaps others would have been insulted, but I took it as an opportunity. I knew that most other nations wouldn't give up without a fight, especially once word started to get out that we were bringing Clans under our banner.

I had some hope that I could land my thunderhawk into the courtyard of every ruler and scare them into subjugation. But I knew if I did that with every nation then there would be no loyalty secured, we would leave and become the overlords that sent servants to make changes to their cities.

No, blood and lives would have to be spent to ensure the grip on the world we wanted was secured. The rulers saw the world as territories, the lands far beyond their kingdoms were out of their notice, much less other worlds.

To bind them under one rule would take time, a bleeding out of the ideology of the individual nations and into the mindset of one planet. It would take generations, but that was the time I had. I looked down at Phebaro.

"Send a message telling them the Iron Drakes are your new lords, we will meet them on the field of battle and you will witness why we are worth serving." A ripple went through the soldiers around us, a nervousness.

"My army is not enough to fight them, they have a larger force than I can match, even in defense." I looked back at my sons for a moment, each of them would stand with me should it come to a fight. But perhaps a different show of force would prove beneficial.

"I will send for my own army and they will destroy this foe, your men will not have to take the field." I could see the relief pass through the bodies of the soldiers present. If these soldiers could enact such a reaction, then destroying them would only further help my cause. I motioned to his home behind us.

"We have a great deal more to discuss before this pact of ours is complete." We went inside the castle and talked for hours in the throne room, flanked by my own sons and his guard. There was still an underlying tension in the air as we spoke. The days events far from ordinary, but he attempted to answer my questions as best he could.

As he told me of his people's history so I told him of my own, of the Emperor and the Imperium, of the vast worlds outside his own. I spun him tales of the Hive cities I had descended into and the spires of nobles I had witnessed, the different worlds that had dotted my journey. I told him of Erebor and the Capital, how Drake had come to the planet and become its ruler. Much of it was beyond his comprehension, things he simply could not believe unless he saw them for himself.

After history had been discussed we moved on to what resources and manpower his city would be expected to provide after all this was over. I knew that my own knowledge was limited, Drake having always handled the actual running of Tarth and the Iron Drakes. For now, I was only the conqueror, but I knew it was a gap in my knowledge I would need to rectify.

With room filled with conversation time slowly slipped away, the sun starting to set, its light shining through the large windows behind his throne. I looked away from Phebaro's question about grain shipments from different planets as I turned my attention to the multitude of footsteps coming from the entrance, the doors opening and a man clad in dark robes entered. A large bronze chain sat around his neck, pendent of an eight pointed star bouncing off his chest. Behind him a retinue of other cultists followed, more symbols to dark forces carved into their flesh. I put out a hand as my Clan started to raise their weapons, the sight of such symbols an affront to our very being.

The leader moved his hands and threw back his heavy hood, showing a weathered face, the star of Chaos caved into the top of a bald head. His eyes went to me for a moment, disbelief and fear filling them as he beheld a being almost twice his height.

"My king, I have just heard of the terms these," He turned and looked at the assembled Marines before looking back. "Invaders, have brought before you. This is an affront to the Gods! They will not stand by for such weakness to fester in our city." I saw the small twitch of Phebaro's lip, almost turning into a snarl.

"Would you have me sacrifice our people for pride? They destroyed an entire city for a skirmish with their soldiers." He took another step forward, arms crossing.

"They will help us overthrow the Pherosian, I would rather put my faith in these warriors than send our sons to die in their wars any longer." The priest scoffed at his words.

"Your grandfather had forsaken the Gods, and that is why our nation became a stepping stone in the first place, if he had listened to my predecessor-."

"The predecessor who wanted us to sacrifice hundreds of men and women to your Red God, my grandfather was right in taking his head." The priest and his retinue swelled in anger at his words, Phebaro's guard tensing. With a grimace the priest turning to me.

"How can you trust the strength of these strangers? The Pherosian are blessed by the gods, they have taken down the mountains children before, they can do it again. They demand our sons because they are stronger than us, it is the way of things." Phebaro snarled and cut a hand through the air.

"No longer." I took this moment to speak, my voice was quiet, but rumbled with all the strength of a looming mountain, dominating the room.

"The Gods you serve use you as a play thing, a less than momentary distraction while you bleed and fight for their approval. You mean nothing to them, I could kill all of you as you begged for them to save you and they would not answer your prayers. My God is different. He is the Lord of Humanity and its greatest protector. Our souls are protected by his brilliance and power, yours are to be consumed by the monsters you serve." For a moment fear crept into his face but he refused to yield, his belief in his Gods steadfast.

I head boots on the floor and turned my head so see my Chaplain striding forward, his gate screaming hatred, hand on the symbol of his office. I was sure he would kill the cultists if I allowed it, and I paused for a moment if I should let him. But letting whatever plot I knew the priest would try to enact and its subsequent failure would only bolster our own power, the people seeing that we were mightier than he.

I tilted my head towards him, my eyes resting on his faceplate for a moment before he stopped, hand coming off his Crozius. I looked back towards the mortals.

"When the Pherosian come to bring the city back under their rule, we will stand in their way. Your God only cares that blood flows correct? It doesn't matter who's." The man's heart was beating inside his chest, insecurity filling his eyes. I had no doubt that he was being paid by the Pherosian to keep the population under their thumb, using the worship of the Gods as a wight to keep them down.

"When they are dead you can come and learn about the true God, the Emperor." His lip turned upwards in a snarl and he turned and walked out, his chain jangling slightly as he fled. I turned towards Phebaro, my arms crossed over my chest as I stared into his being,

"Tell me more of this Red God you worship." The mortal king started to open his mouth when his aged adviser took a small step forward, his staff echoing on the stone floor.

"If it would please my lord, I believe that I may be of some use in this question." His lord nodded and I finally turned my full attention to the aged servant. Observing all that he was in a glance.

"The Red God, as we call him great one, is the lord of war and conquest. Many warriors of our world pray to him for protection in battle and victory over their foes." I said nothing, knowing that many primitive worlds would turn to the worship of Khorne.

"I have read almost every book in our collection, but I could not tell you were our worship of him began." I again said nothing, instead turning to my Chaplain. While I had witnessed instances like this and more with the Inquisitor I knew that Anellius had less experience, experience he would need to help convert the followers of the Red God to the worship of the Emperor. My Chaplain entered into the conversation.

"It matters not where it began, only that it ends. In time all of the nations of Tarth will come to know his power. Your city will become one of the founding pillars to spread the faith across our planet." The two descended into talk of the faith, Anellius pulling from his vast knowledge of scripture to answer any questions brought before him.

Weeks passed before the enemy came for us. Fifteen thousand warriors with axes and iron mail. I stood on the walls with my Clan and Brandon, the Fourth having arrived a few days ago.

The Regiment was born anew before us, fresh and old blood alike clad in the carapace armor I had promised. Modeled after the most common make of the carapace from the Fortress World of Cadia. But were the Aquila was stamped on their foreheads, our Chapter Symbol was instead, marking them for all to see as our own. I couldn't help the swell of pride that came from seeing them standing with us.

Outside the eight meters walls of the city a vast expanse of farming land sat, tilled and worked by the people who lived here. Beyond the grain filled fields, the forests grew, that which hadn't been cut down to make room for farming. In the distance the mountains rose, their spines spreading into the distance.

Our enemy made camp just outside the forest limits, their tents and fires dotting the morning. I could hear the clamor as men fitted on armor and sharpen their weapons, our own side doing the same. Phebaro was unsure of what to say when I told him we didn't need his soldiers assistance, his army assembled behind his walls. Their spears standing tall against the warriors that threatened their home.

I myself had no worry over the battle, but for these soldiers, this was a fight that would decide their fates. Not that fate would be deciding anything today.

The five thousand men and women of my Regiment would be more than enough to put down such crude forces, something I wanted to ensure the mortal king saw. It was a blunt powerplay, but I was hopeful that the stories of what would happen here today would save future lives.

Brandon stepped up next to me, eyeing the gathering enemy as his soldiers stood at the ready, heavy weapons set up along the walls just in case.

"My lord, we are ready when they are. Just give the word." I put a hand on the stone in front of me, the large square tower we stood in set up as a command spot, not that it would even be needed for such a small battle.

"Its different isn't it." The Colonel turned his head to me, brow dipped in confusion.

"The last time we took the field together we fought Orks, thousands died. The wall was bigger as well, and the stakes much greater." I sighed, looking down at him.

"It seems almost funny, going from such a battle to this, a slaughter waiting to happen." The Colonel stared out at the gathering enemy and his face turned to a frown, sadness draped upon it.

"It's not Xenos we are killing this time sir, its humans, one day our own people." I looked out at the amassing forces but couldn't say my own emotions mirrored his own. I took no pleasure in the death of these men, but they worshiped the Chaos Gods, that alone would have some killing them. I was hopeful that the Pherosian could be brought to the glory of the Emperor instead, but if they couldn't then they would have to die.

I pondered for a moment on the lives I had taken during my trip with the Inquisitor, perhaps it had made me uncaring to such death, but a part of me knew that I was engineered to not care for the death of my enemies. No other Primarch would have, save perhaps Vulkan, but even he would have crushed such forces without pause, and I was no different. I cared for what was mine, for those loyal to the Chapter. Its prosperity would always mean more to me than the lives of those who didn't stand beside me.

"I take no pleasure in it, but in all my years of service to the Emperor, I know this. The Xenos is possibly the greatest outside threat to the Imperium, but humans are the greatest threat inside of it." Brandon turned and stared at me for a long moment before we descended into silence.

From the growing battle lines of the enemy a single figure strode forward with a number of guard, clad in heavier armor. He stood out from the rest because of the massive axe he carried across his back. He stopped twenty meters from the walls, taking off his helmet. His hair was dark and tied in the back, a rough face covered in a large unkempt beard. He grasped his weapon near its head and pointed it towards the walls.

"Come out and face me you cowardly king! Are you going to let these foreigners fight your battle for you?!" I stopped leaning on the wall, the man's eyes traveling to me as I spoke, my voice heightened by the speakers built into my armor.

"I am Aragorn of the Iron Drakes. I will give you this one opportunity to surrender and pledge your loyalty to us." A single bead of sweat rolled down the mans face, his neck craned to stare me in the face.

"We will have what is owed to us, if we have to kill a few more men, then so be it." I thought about taking his head right then and there, it would take less than a heartbeat for me to shoot him, only a few more to slaughter his guard. But that wouldn't send the message I needed too.

"When your people remember this day, it will be one of sorrow, for they will know how you refused to bow, and so many of their sons died because of your pride." His lip curled up in anger, and he snorted before taking a few steps back and turning away.

"Before the day is out, I will have your head for a piss pot." My blood stirred at the insult but I tempered it, reminding myself that he was to die in a moment. Back at the enemy camp, the general donned his helmet, raising his axe as his soldiers started to advance.

I let them, holding up a single open hand as they grew closer. At two hundred meters the enemy broke into a run, the ladders they brought with them given protection by large shields held overhead. My hand turned to a fist, officers up and down the line roaring to fire.

The first dozen lines of men were obliterated in an instant. The lasgun, while unable to do substantial damage to some of mankind's foes, was still a potent weapon. Against flesh and iron, it was devastating.

Torsos exploded and limbs were sent flying as our weapons tore into their ranks, the ladder carriers died first, their men attempted to pick them up and carry them to the walls, a mound of corpses gathering around them. Each burst of red light tore through multiple targets, crippling as many as was killed.

My attention turned towards the back of their lines as groups of hooded figures chanted, great beasts of mutated flesh springing free of chains. Chaos Spawn. They swarmed forward, the sight of them causing my sons to raise their weapons.

Our soldiers saw them as well, revulsion going across the line as the heavy weapon teams redirected their fire, the Spawn taking the damage in stride. Flesh burned and was torn apart as bolt shells and lasgun fire decimated their bodies. My sons had their weapons trained on the spawn before they finally started to fall, landing in the dirt in crumpled heeps. Seeing their monsters fail the cultits turned their attention to a single member of their group, gathering in a circle around him and continuing their chant. I could see the dark energies start to swirl, a single shot from my bolt pistol destroyed his chest. As much as a slaughter as the battle was, I didn't feel like letting the enemy freely use such powers.

I took my attention away from the fields as my vox sounded, accepting the transmission as Anellius's voice came through.

"I put and end to whatever ritual the Chaos cultists attempted to perform, as far as I can tell it was some kind of summoning, the others were sacrificed and their blood drained into a basin of some kind."

"Good work, be sure to burn the area clean before you leave." He scoffed and I knew he had already planned on it, the connection ending.

I looked back to the ending battle, the ladders long buried under brave soldiers, those braver still trying to dig them out. It was a kill zone, the open terrain allowed for all the advantage our soldiers needed to gun down the enemy with brutal efficiency. None of them had made it closer than a hundred meters to the wall. What had been thousands was reduced to strays running for their lives, spared by soldiers of the Fourth, my own sons and I hadn't fired but a single shot.

The battle had lasted but a few minutes.

Phebaro, who had stood at the back of the tower came to the front, eyes glued to the scene of death before him. For a few long minutes he didn't speak, eyes flicking from corpse to corpse while his thoughts gathered.

"You and your men are monsters Iron Drake. They never stood a chance." He turned to look at me, something akin to revulsion in his eyes.

"I see now how you can say you will conquer the world, with weapons such as these, and your faceless soldiers at your command, I doubt any can stand in your way." It wasn't fear that came off him in waves, but sadness, despair.

"This world will bow before Iron Drake rule, I have made an example of those today so that others will not make the same mistake tomorrow." He rested his forearms on the stone wall, staring out at the battlefield as Brandon came up to me.

"What would you have of us now my lord?" I paused at that, knowing that I couldn't simply use them as a blunt hammer to smash my way across the land. Not only that, but I knew that using the Fourth in such away again and again would take a toll on their psychic, killing warriors who could hardly fight back. It wasn't traitors or Xenos I would be asking them to kill, but the civilians that they would one day protect.

"You and your men can return to the Capital Colonel, I am sorry for having to use you in such a fashion, but it was needed." He saluted, the sword I crafted for him bumping against his armor as he turned and started to give orders, the guardsman starting to tear down the heavy weapons and march down the stone steps. Bringing the guard had been a show of force, and one that I didn't think would be needed again.

With the walls clearing it left more room for my Clan to close rank around me, Zyron slowly shaking his head.

"I truly hope we will not have to do this again Primarch." I leaned up from the stone and turned to face them.

"I fear this is just the beginning, there are larger kingdoms that we will have to conquer in the coming months, there is a great possibility that they won't give up as easily as Phebaro did." The mortal king finally stood up from his musing, eyes finding my own.

"What now?" I looked beyond the field of corpses and to the forest beyond.

"We take this moment to bring your army to the enemy gates and force their ruler to kneel. Then we take what remains of that army and add it to our own, continuing until we have taken everything." Phebaro shook his head in confusion.

"Why would you use my army when yours could accomplish without a single death?" I stared down at him for a moment before turning away.

"Because that wouldn't send the right message to the other kings, if I conquer your people with a foreign army, would you respect me? Would you still call me your master after I left?" His face was filled with anger and disbelief for a moment, the fact that I would be sending his soldiers to their deaths just to make a point was an insult.

"Ready your army Phebaro, we will march with you when we go to make your old masters our new servants." He gave me a stiff nod and walked down the steps. Invictus came to stand next to me.

"If you would like Aragorn, we can head out and take the city ourselves." I looked at the field of bodies, birds already descending to feast on the dead.

"I don't plan on sacrificing his army on the enemy walls. We have proven the power of our soldiers, now we must prove the might of ourselves." I turned to face my Clan, knowing that now would be a good opportunity to strengthen the bonds between us.

"His men will watch as we storm the gates and take their city, when we emerge from it with the lord's head, it will cement us over them. We need to build a legend about ourselves during this time of conquest, or peace will not last. I am counting on all of you during this time to help me ensure Tarth's future." Erik chuckled and rested a hand on Olok's shoulder. Something the Marine was quick to shrug off.

"You are our Primarch and brother Aragorn, we will follow you to the depths off the Warp, don't you worry." I could only smile and gesture downwards.

"Let's get ready for tomorrow, we are just beginning."

In the following days I contacted the Capital Council and asked them to send a workforce to our location, the building of a powerful vox tower was something that I saw as a necessity if I was to start integration of these people into our economy and society. Roads would have to be built, forts and other structures placed to ensure they remained safe. I knew that I wouldn't be able to blitz my way across the lands. I would have to build as I conquered, setting up the foundation to turn these people from a localized lifestyle to a planetary one.

I had spend part of the week of waiting with Phebaro learning all I could about the neighboring Clans and how they lived. We had basic information of course, but not nearly as much as I knew now.

I stood beside my sons at the end of that time, watching as the soldiers of Phebaro's army marched out of the gates. Six thousand of them venturing out, a small force by any means, but one that would grow as I took more cities.

I would have to change how I wanted to fight this campaign in the following months, working with melee troops would be a stark change to commanding guardsman. As the supply wagons rolled passed, pulled by teams of soldiers. Horses were not something that had made it to this world just yet, but I wondered if I should have some imported to assist in the farming and workforce of the planet.

I shook my head, dismissing the idea considering they would be obsolete in a hundred years time as these people started to use the equipment used by the farmers of our tribute Agri world and our own used, few that there were. Drake knew that warp travel could be a tricky thing at best, and a small area of land around the maintain chains of that which protected the capital were devoted to agricultural production.

I wondered if we would be able to turn Tarth into our own version of my Ultramarine brothers home, Macragge. I had read about the planet, heard of its history and the five hundred worlds its empire had once had. I was hopeful that I could build something similar, a place of prosperity within the Imperium. But I wasn't a fool. I knew that declaring my own kingdom would mark me as a secessionist, a traitor. So not a true kingdom of my own, but worlds that paid us loyalty as my brother had done was something I could get behind.

As the last wagon rolled passed I walked after it, knowing it would do us good to be seen alongside the soldiers and not just hopping into our thunderhawk and arriving at the destination. It would be mind numbingly slow compared to our normal method of travel, but it was a sacrifice we would have to make.

The bodies had been cleared from the battlefield, moved away from the city and burned, what little could be salvaged from the corpses was. Our armored boots leaving indents in the dirt after the army, much heavier than the soldiers in front of us.

"It's been awhile since I've taken a walk through a forest." I knew it was Invecarius who spoke, one of the new of my Clan. Grithald responded, the two lapsing into an easy conversation about our home. Listening to them made me smile, Ignis's chest rumbling from beside me, his eye looking down at me for a moment, contentment settling across our bond.

It was a quiet walk. A moment of peace with Ignis and my Clan at my side. For a short time I dismissed the constant thoughts of how to win over the loyalty of the world, what Drake would have me do afterwards and the overall future of the Iron Drakes, of the wars and blood we would have to spill in protection of the crumbling Imperium around us.

It was something that was always present in the back of my mind, the burden that laid on my shoulders. I was the only active Primarch besides my Chaos brothers, and even they only left their masters leash from time to time. I had hopes that perhaps, if I was able to win enough renown I would one day journey to the Throneworld and move the wheel forward from its present endless spinning. The Imperium wasn't moving forward, losing and gaining planets in an endless struggle.

It was a burden that I would bear for the future of humanity. For the survival of our race I would cut out the cancerous growth that brought down our empire, the petty feuds and greed, the power mongering and other disgusting behaviors I had witnessed during my time with the Inquisitor.

For a moment I wondered if this was how my Genesire saw humanity, why he had such an iron fist during the unification wars and the Crusade. I'm sure to him, humanity was to self destructive to be left to rule themselves, selfish and short sighted. A man in power would sacrifice any below him to continue his own rule. I wondered if the Emperor would see the irony of that thought as the images of the sons I had let die flashed in front of my eyes.

I let the thought linger for a few moments, more than aware I was doing the very thing that I had been trying not to do. A few hours passed as I tried to clear my mind, Ignis looking down at me from time to time.

The forest rose around us in towering display, the trees were still just as impressive as when we were children, their canopy dozens of meters above us. It wasn't truly dark, as the wind blew the leaves would rustle and the branches sway, rays of light danced between the gaps.

The road we followed was not well maintained or in good condition, but it served its purpose. I spent some time listening to the conversations up and down the line of soldiers, some talking about loved ones, some about us. They still didn't know what to truly think about these metal giants from far off lands. I let my senses run wild for a time, listening to the low growls of beasts and the mutterings of men.

When the sun started to fade the wagons stopped and were unloaded, tents and supplies being distributed to the hungry and tired soldiers. A camp being set up in a clearing, a small stream running along its edge. We didn't need tents, taking only a small amount of food from the wagons before walking a dozen meters away from the main force, eating and talking among ourselves.

Ignis looked towards the dried meat and bread the soldiers ate with an eager expression, hunger coming from across our bond. I shook my head and gestured to the forest, sending him to find his own meal. He snorted before walking off, starting his hunt.

I pondered the bond that connected the two of us, knowing that I hadn't put much thought into it since I had come back. It wasn't telepathy, I couldn't hear the Drake speak in my mind, but I knew his thoughts all the same, his emotions and whims. I found great peace in sinking into the connection that held us together. I had never asked Drake if he and Despair shared something similar, or if my genetics provided me a heightened level of what others might have.

I had to wonder what it would be like for my own sons, and when the Drake Queen would see fit to give them an egg of their own. I knew that she had some criteria, both for knowing what children could survive becoming my son and who was given an egg. I just didn't know what it was.

Having the other members of my Clan be given Drakes of their own would be a massive boost to our combat ability, each Drake was worth several Marines or more, mountains of flesh and scales that could wreak havoc on any battlefield. Ignis had yet to be in a battle against enemy Astares, but I wondered how lethal he would be. I stared into the flames of our fire for a moment, watching it consume and flicker in the wind, Invictus's voice breaking me from my thoughts.

"Aragorn, there was something I have been wanting to ask, turning the population to the worship of the Emperor, is it truly need?" The fire grew quiet as he continued.

"I know I didn't speak of it then, but I hail from the Feudal-world that has pledged itself to the Iron Drakes. My family lived in a smaller town, a few thousand people. They worked the fields as me and my sister did what we could to help out. One day a priest came through, wanted to ensure the souls of the population were cemented in the faith of the Emperor." He paused, shadows flickering across his face.

"They burned my mother and sister at the stake for being witches. My father was beaten for having married a witch and had one of his hands taken. Unable to work, we took what little money we had and paid our way to one of the ships that were coming to help populate Tarth at the time. We were only here for a few months before I was chosen to become a Marine. The last words my father said to me before I left was that he was happy I would become one of humanity's greatest protectors."

The Clan stared for a moment, stunned as Invictus told us his story. I saw Anellius shift slightly before he continued.

"What if they simply venerated the Emperor like we do? As the greatest man to ever walk the stars, as our leader and Emperor?" His hand gripped into a fist.

"Why does the Imperium have to suffer under the of the Imperial Cult? It burns worlds to the ground for the actions of a few heretics!" He released his hand and stared into it.

"Why should people suffer under something that is supposed to protect them? They die more to the Cult than to the Xenos and the heretics that they warn against." I was about to speak when Anellius stood, coming to stand before the Marine.

"The Imperial Cult is important to the Imperium because humanity needs something to believe in. If it wasn't the Emperor then it would be Chaos, if it isn't Chaos then its some Xenos who have put themselves above them as gods. The worship of the Emperor keeps humanity together, it binds us and gives us purpose. Look at the natives of Tarth. They worship an aspect of Khorne, because they have to have something bigger than themselves. This is the age of war and death for humanity, our species bleeds and dies for our next day." He stood over Invictus, arms crossed.

"Do you understand? Thousands die every hour, millions every week just so that humanity can continue, it is our duty, our purpose to be the spear that cuts away at the enemies of the Imperium. It is not your duty to think on the actions of the Imperial Cult, it is not your purpose to worry about the lives of those not beset upon by Heretics or Traitors." His eyes turned to me for just a moment.

"In the future, when the Iron Drakes have grown, Aragorn will be the one to make changes to this Imperium, it is our path to fight alongside him in all that he does to that one day we can help humanity go beyond what it is now. Set your mind to the battles ahead. One day we will be strong enough to ensure that the burning of innocents never happens on our worlds. Fight Invictus, turn your blade towards Aragorn's enemies, it is through him that we can bring about change." The Invictus breathed deep and stared into the Chaplains eyes, a smile making its way onto his lips.

"You always did have a way with words brother." The two clasped arms and silence returned to our fire, only the crackle of burning wood disturbing the night. Ignis had finished gorging himself by this time laid himself behind us, the ground shaking slightly as his form meet the earth. No other conversations sparked during the night, none of us falling into slumber, spending it in silent contemplation.

POV change. Drake)

I stared into the rising sun from my place above the Drake Head that overlooked the entrance to Erebor. The massive doors under me opening as a group of Unchosen walked out, venturing down the mountain road cut into the rock years ago. An alternative to climbing up as I had done not so long ago. I had spent the night up here again, thinking endlessly about the chances of us being found before we were ready.

I knew that it was still a delicate time, the Iron Drakes were growing in strength, our army grew more powerful every year, our fleet adding another new ship soon. Octavian continued to produce quality weapons and armor for our growing force, Aragorn having placed his Regiment to have the first batch of the Carapace Armor that had been made.

Besides the improvements to our military, Tarth itself was growing, the Capital was still the center of power, its size growing every year as time continued to pass. Even from here, I could just start to see the indent it was making in the land. Soon I would have to stop the flow of immigrants, well, not all of them, but cut back on the amount we were taking in. Another few smaller cities had been founded within our mountain chain.

The Fortress Monastery itself had grown as well. Defences had been upgraded and improved upon to ensure that my home would one day rival the Fang, something that the Wolves would always claim as impossible. Still, even they would admit that what was being built had the possibility of one day becoming a suitable.

The teachers that were brought to this place where perhaps the most unchanging thing about it, each of them remaining steadfast in their core ways through everything they had witnessed.

I still wasn't sure what my Gray Knight ally would do once he left, but I knew he wouldn't tell before the time was right. The Salamander and the Wolves had both sworn the secrecy, they knew as I did that Aragorn was perhaps a true path forward for the Imperium, given he wasn't discovered to soon.

I knew that the trainers times here would be coming to and end. It was selfish of me to keep them away from their brothers, a sacrifice I would not forget. Maximus was still training Malachi in his arts, two others having been selected from the Unchosen to start training in the medical arts. Bran and Mortis would soon be taking their own apprentices, training then in the same forging arts as they had been.

I rested my hands on the stone and sighed, light racing across the lands, it wouldn't be long until the Fortress was under its rays.. Solomon was my biggest worry, out of the Chaplains, Apothecaries and Techmarines that the Iron Drakes needed to thrive, a Librarian was perhaps the most important, and the greatest of dangers.

I remember years ago when Maximus had told me of the Psyker child, powerful and pure of heart. Cotus had taken him under his wing, shown him how to harness his powers. He had been making massive strides, growing into a truly powerful Psyker. In the next few years I had hoped to add another Pysker child to our ranks, giving Solomon an apprentice of his own after Cotus left for his frozen home.

The accident had set him back, shattered some of his confidence. He had stopped pushing himself since then, turning to less combat related abilities, never going too far into his powers. Cotus assured me that speaking with Aragorn had helped him, bringing back some of his missing confidence.

It had been many months since his return from the trip with the Inquisitor but it only felt like a few days. The fast pace I had kept him going at since his return, the battle with the Orks, sending him out to conquer the planet. It served its own purpose.

I turned my back to the world as the sun raced up to meet me, walking down the stairs, door sliding shut behind me before it locked. Down the steps I continued, knowing that the responsibilities of running a Chapter and planet would soon meet me. But until then, I enjoyed a slow walk through the glory of our home.

The Monastery was never truly quiet, some places more so than others, the library, some halls used for studies or lessons. But there was always an energy no matter where you went, a quiet hum of machinery and life that vibrated through the mountain.

I passed a pair of Serfs doing a morning cleaning, the pair bowing as I passed. I returned a small nod before they turned back to their duties, sweeping up the dust from the stone floor.

I traveled up two levels and entered into my living quarters, a fresh pile of reports waiting for me to look over. Picking up the pile I sat down and opened up the first of many, another batch of civilians were attempting to become Serfs, more from the city and beyond. The Imperial Cult I had allowed the old priest to establish was building a second church in the third ring of the Capital.

I knew that allowing the Imperial Cult to have an established presence on Tarth was important, but I still had a small amount of loyal servants watching them to ensure they didn't overstep the boundaries that I had established years ago. So far there had been no problems, no Cardinals had shown up in a massive fleet demanding the Primarch I was hiding away from the Imperium.

I was reading through the last one, a progress update on the building of Acrem when there was a knock on the door. It slid open to reveal Thudin. The Marine had been keeping to himself since Aragorn had demoted him and placed him under Zane. His armor was fully repaired and repainted, the slightest hum from its inner workings. I knew that he and Aragorn hadn't spoken much since their last confrontation, Thudin himself spending much of his time training.

"Chapter Master, I was wondering if I could speak to you." I motioned to the chair across from me and he sat. For a few moments saying nothing, eyes flickering across the desk as he pondered his words.

" I would like to know if my, demotion, is still in place. I know there are enough Unchosen to make a new Clan. If I could have a chance to prove myself, to show you that I am worthy of leading again." I took in a breath and let it out, resting back in my chair as his eyes traveled up to meet mine. He was nervous, and I was reminded that these Marines of mine, my soldiers I threw into the fires of war had only been Astartes for a handful of years.

"Thudin I know why Aragorn took away your position. Other Chapters may not care for the lives of mortals, but we do. The treatment of our guardsman as you did, while not physically harming them, was a disregard to our purpose as Iron Drakes, to be the shield that guards humanity from the dangers beyond our borders, from the dangers within. That is why Aragorn saw to demote you, because you tarnished our mission." His brow furrowed, his jaw clenched slightly.

"I was demoted over being gruff with a few of the guard? Soldiers who fight and die against Xenos and your worried about their feelings getting hurt?" I shook my head.

"Its for that reason. Those men and women who fought alongside you gave it their all, and how do their masters repay them? By belittling them in the face of death?" I paused for a moment, wondering how to better explain my reasoning.

"Do you know how many times our guardsman have run Thudin? Turned their backs on the enemy and fled?" The Astarte paused for a moment before he shrugged.

"Never, to my knowledge." I rested a hand on my desk, leaning forward slightly.

"Correct, never once have our soldiers run. Do you know why? It is because we fight alongside them. Even disciplined guard units can sometimes break, PDF are more known for it than others, yet even they stood their ground against the Greenskins alongside our men. It was not because they didn't feel fear, it was because our very presence beside them filled them with the belief that they can win." Thudin leaned back in his chair, brow still set in a frown.

"What happens when you tarnish that image? When the Marine next to you goes from being a respected warrior without peer to a bully? It not only diminishes the effect we have on their moral by fighting alongside them, it tarnishes the image of the entire Chapter, and if not cut, could spread." I knew I was stretching the truth slightly, I doubt one or two instances would ever affect how the Guard saws us.

But unlike other guardsmen who only sometimes fought next to Space Marines, who's units were fully under the effect of the wonder and power that we possessed, our own would become desensitized to that wonder eventually. It was then that respect would have to be present to ensure that loyalty and spirit remained in the face of our foes. I took in a breath before I continued.

"You were demoted to send a message Thudin, that such behavior isn't to be tolerated in the Chapter. As for you becoming a Clan leader again, that is out of my power." I held up a hand as he went to speak.

"Yes, I am the Chapter Master of the Iron Drakes, but Aragorn is its Primarch, its Genesire. I cannot undermine his authority as the true leader of the Chapter, it wouldn't be right." I saw the frustration building in his eyes and lifted my hand to cup my chin.

"I could send you to Aragorn, join him in his mission. You could show him there that you have changed, but that choice is up to you." Thudin stared at my desk for a few minutes before he shook his head.

"No. I will look for a different way to regain my position." I only gave him a nod as he stood from his seat and saluted before walking towards the door, staring at his back as he left. I knew that it would take Aragorn to bring him back to his position as a Clan leader, that wasn't something I could do. I just wish that the two of them would start to get along properly.

I took in a breath and sighed as I stood, finishing the reports meant I had to start the rest of my day, and today was important. I headed out the door and down the steps towards the main entrance of the Monastery, entering into the massive chamber of the Main Hall. My brothers told me I should make a proper name for it, but thus far I had no idea what its name should be. My feet echoed across the polished stone, taking me across the symbol of our Chapter cut into the floor.

From there I followed the hallway to the First Hall, the fire there still burning hot so many years after it had first been lit, fed by the serfs so that it never went out. The great doors opened at my prodding and I walked out into the entrance of Erebor, the large flat that I had fought my first Drake on. Walls sat around the outside, the gatehouse and the road that was cut into the mountain open to the world. One way in, one way out.

The other battlements I had envisioned years ago had come into fruition, second and third walls lined the path to our home, towards and bunkers, defensive positions cut into the rocks. Any force assaulting our home would have a difficult time breaching it. But I was no Imperial Fist, I knew that it wasn't perfect defense, and I would soon to put into action a way to iron such flaws.

I turned my attention away from the battlements and to the children who stood with the Unchosen I had sent out this morning, the group having left their transport at a small base created at the base of the mountain for transporting goods and people from the city to the Monastery. I gave a nod to the Marines and they saluted once before walking towards the doors, leaving me with the children.

It was another year, another round of testing by the Drake Queen. I looked down into their faces, thirty of them this year, perhaps two or three would be found worthy. I knelt down and beckoned them closer, seeing the uncertainty fear in their eyes.

"Welcome to Erebor, today marks a step in some of your lives. Most of you will go home to your parents after the day is over, but some of you, the chosen few, will become part of something greater." I lifted off from the ground and took a step back.

"Come with me now and don't be afraid. What comes next is part of your journey." From there I took them outside the walls and along a path towards the top of the mountain, the same path I had taken when I had first arrived on the planet, years ago. I had traveled this way every year with a different group of children to have them tested by the Queen, the very start of wear beginning in the stone.

Some shivered as we walked, even when it was warm the wind would howl this far up, the temperature dropping as the air grew thin. Some shivered, but a few did not, bearing their misery in silence. As we traveled I could hear the wild Drakes moving among the rocks around us, but they knew better than to attack.

Into the clearing we came, the top of the mountain. The massive cave that the Queen called her home and the other smaller tunnels that lined the area. Several Drakes laid in the sun, getting what heat they could. Eyes opened as we came before the cave, the children huddling around each other. A few snarls was all the Drakes offered, used to seeing me after so long. The ground shook and a growl came from the cave, the Drake Mother in all her glory coming from the mountain.

As many times as I had seen her in the past, seeing the titanic animal rise from her resting place was always a sight that sent my hearts beating, knowing that there would never be anything I could do about her slaughtering me or the children. Like years before she walked closer, tail idly hitting the side of her home, the stone grinding under her claws. She towered above us, a titan of flesh and scales, eyes of fierce intelligence gazing upon the children. Her voice, slow and melodic, came from within.

"So, these are the children you have sent to me this year." She leaned in, bringing her eye closer to the small bodies that stood behind me. She snorted, blowing down the hoods some of them wore.

"Pathetic, do you make a mockery of my children? So few of those you bring are worthy of the blood of Drakes." I stayed silent, knowing she would say her piece one way or another. Her massive paw lifted off the ground. Many of the children flinched back in fear from the talons longer than their bodies, all but four. The Queen seemed to smile at their small defiance.

"These, they are worthy of becoming Drakes, the others are too weak." I nodded, knowing there was no way I could know her methods, only that they worked. Maximus found it annoying how the Drake Queen always knew which children would pass the trails and become Astartes, none of the children selected thus far had failed the Implant process. He wanted a logical reason as to how she selected those who would pass and I had never been able to give him one. I bowed to the Queen.

"Thank you for your wisdom, I will return next year with others to be tested." Her great eyes stared down at me for a while before she spoke again.

"Long ago you promised me that my children would see war. That we would stalk battlefields and our names would be carried across the stars." Her head came in close, a breath of hot air blowing across my armor.

"I wonder when you will honor that promise. When will you send your Astartes to be tested again?" I paused, thinking over my response for a few moments before I spoke.

"I am waiting for one of them to show me that they are worthy of such a gift and responsibility, they are still young and haven't seen many battles. I fear you will have to wait some time more."

"Very well." The dismissal was evident as she walked back into her cave, the children standing behind me shivering in the wind.

"We are done here, it is time to head back." The faces of most of the children brightened despite the terror and cold, knowing they would be headed back to their fathers and mothers. The faces of the others were different. They were not sad about being chosen, a fire was ablaze in their souls.

Back at the Monastery I bid two serfs to take the children home, standing with my Aspirants. All were the age of six, and over the next few years they would be molded into Neophytes. With them walking in front of me I lead them through the doors, passed the great doors and into Erebor, were I handed them off to Serfs who would see them to rooms and start their education.

Gone were the days that I would teach them everything, after so many years I had managed to find those who could fill such positions, teaching Gothic and mathematics, literature and history. As they grew older I started too teach combat classes, but even those were sometimes taken up by Unchosen or Clan members.

I tried to spend my time teaching battle tactics and advanced combat, skills that might save lives and ensure our enemy lay in ruin. The Unchosen trained endlessly, many of them going even farther after Aragorn did his selection. Marcus had mentioned to me that it was perhaps the most awkward ceremony he had ever seen, but I had faith that it would shape into something that would be worthy of adding new members to a Clans ranks.

I made my way down to where the forges of Erebor laid, entering into this place of smoke and fire. Our Artificers were hard at work crafting the gear and ammunition that we required for our wars, a stockpile that I would see grow ever larger. Things for the guard or Tarth were made by Octavian's forges on the moon.

Deeper inside I came upon Bran and Mortis. Both of them seemed to be crafting an axe, much like the ones Techpriests used, their servo arms fitted for creation. I stood and watched them for a while, their assistants handing them tools as they poured over the tiny details. I had great hopes for how far the two of them would go. It was almost impossible for them to catch up to Aragorn in crafting expertise, but they would always be trying and for that they had won respect from the Chapter.

Finally Bran rose from his hunched position, Mortis only a few moments after him. Both of them raised the axes into the forge light, watching the polished metal shine. I stepped forward, the two of them setting their weapons back on the table and saluting, Mortis speaking.

"What can we do for you lord Drake." I stepped up to the table and grasped at the weapons, picking up one in each hand. There was hardly a difference between them, my Techmarines sharing a style of smithing taught to them by Marcus. In the future, I had no doubt they would branch out and find their own personal style.

"You are both doing outstanding work, as always." I looked up to both of them and they grinned, a noise coming from behind us drawing our attention, the sound of a wolf.

"I told you, you cannot just hit it with abandon, you have to move the metal with each hammer stroke. You have to feel it." The three of us went into a different room to find the Fenris born, arms crossed as his new apprentice put a blade back into the coals. He turned to look as us and gave a nod, the fire light dancing across his hair, making it seem alive.

"Come to check up on this fool you've given me? Hardly useful for making nails Drake." I smiled a bit and grasped his arm in greeting.

"I have faith that you will make him into something proper, just as you have with these two here." Marcus looked at Bran and Mortis for a moment, eyes squinting before he smirked, fangs flashing.

"I suppose they did turn out into something halfway decent." The two Techmarines stood up a little straighter, the wolf's smile turned to a grin.

"Even if they are still leagues below myself." The two Astares rolled their eyes as I motioned with my head to Marcus, the wolf moving to follow me towards a more excluded through the forge. We walked passed Serfs working their craft, through flying sparks and ringing of machinery, the heat fading as we entered into a storage room.

"You've lead me away from all the others Drake, this must be serious." I didn't respond for a moment, eyes gazing upon the weapons stored here, waiting for transportation to different parts of the Fortress.

"You've been here for over a decade Marcus, taught and trained the very first generation of Iron Drake Techmarines," I turned to face him.

"When will you be headed home? I do not want you to leave by any means, but if you have been seeking to journey back to Fenris…" I shrugged, the Space Wolf staring at me for a few moments before spoke.

"Drake, when me and Cotus came here we knew that it would take time to help the Iron Drakes get onto their feet. That we could be here for decades. Our brothers will survive without us. If anything, they will be interested to hear what tales we have to bring them of this new Chapter. We will not leave until you are sure that the Iron Drakes will thrive without our training." I stared into his eyes for a moment before smiling.

"Then I am forever in your debt brother, we will not forget this" His hand came out in front of him and I grasped it, his hand slapping me on the back as we started back towards the forges.

"Sometimes I think your too sad Drake, your always going on about us leaving and the Iron Drakes not being ready, but your Chapter is strong, already its blooded its teeth on Orks, soon it will be other threats, and your list of victories will only grow."

I kept walking, aware that I was perhaps too distracted by my worries for the future, but I had to be, there being to many parts moving outside my control, outside my ability to change. Worrying about the future did seem to be all I did when I wasn't teaching or training, but we were so far behind the rest of the Imperium, Tarth was still yet to be united, its few cities and trained defenders would never be able to hold up to the disparity that the galaxy would throw at us.

We needed to be stronger, our nation and allies needed to grow for us to survive what was coming. I sighed, knowing I had repeated that line to myself over a hundred times these past years.

Back at the forges we passed my Techmarines, the wolf returning to his lecture as I left the smoke and hammering of metal behind me, the sound fading behind steel doors as they slid shut.

Having taken care of seeing one of the teachers of my Chapter and gaining new blood for the ranks, I returned to my regular tasks . As Astartes training was a never ending part of our lives, we prepared for every situation, every encounter, and while I was far more lax than many other Chapter Masters, twelve hours of our days were spent in studying and practicing the arts of war.

It was for this reason that I entered into a training hall, my Clan and several Unchosen standing with blades ready. I sometimes wondered if those under my own leadership wished to be lead by one of Aragorn's blood. I knew it was foolish, they respected me just as they did Aragorn, but the same look they held in their eyes when he was around, that admiration, was only for him.

It made sense, and I felt no discontent over it, but a stranger in his own home can still feel welcome. I cast such thoughts aside as I walked up to a nearby weapon rack, grasping a training blade and turning towards my students.

"Partner up, we will be reviewing the drills from yesterday." The weapon forms had been a project that had been in the making for years, my attempt to create a weapons style that suited the Iron Drakes mentality. Aggressive and based around the Clan, it was made for overwhelming offensive, crashing down with a Clan's might while incorporating enough defensive teachings to help with survivability.

There were some forms for when you fought alone, but that was not how I was training the Chapter to fight. Together we would be strong, and together we would shape the battlefields of our choosing. I had yet to work out a proper way to involve the Drakes in such a combat style. They were massive machines of war, flesh and scales brought to purpose, but how to meld them with a Marine, I had yet to find out.

When Despair and I fought together he was often off on his own, causing carnage and destruction as his leisure, but a few times we had fought side by side, our movements connected through our bond, fang and sword acting towards one purpose.

I looked up as a body crashed to the floor, an Unchosen lashing out at the blade angled towards his throat, standing up before bringing his sword back to ready. They pushed themselves hard, all Iron Drakes did.

I remember when they had been children, the first generation I had molded into men. How they had acted in aggression when fighting one another, their rivalry as kids. I pondered for a moment if I was training them up the right way. Many Chapters of the Astartes would select from the youth, promising warriors who they would snatch up at night or take away in great celebration. These children would compete, sometimes killing each other in battles, sometimes killing beasts of great power to show their worth.

I took them in as babes, hardly half a decade in age before I separated them from their families to mold them into Iron Drakes. But was it the right way to handle such things? Would the Drake Mother continue to be infallible in her selection? With Aragorn securing all of Tarth our recruitment of Iron Drakes would explode, something that I was both worried about, but knew that was needed. The Iron Drakes needed to grow, we needed full companies and battle brothers who could lead them.

New soldiers for our armies and expanded infrastructure to build our ships and wargear. Of the other planets in our solar system a few were currently being probed at for building new settlements, more people, more warriors, the Iron Drakes continuing to gain power.

I looked up as again the pair of Astartes clashed, again the Unchosen fell, but a hand reached out to clasp his own, dragging him to his feet. Fueled by rivalry they might be, the bonds between them were as strong as any other, a sign I was making the right choice.

As blades grew dull from constant use I gave a small bit of advice to Varus before pounding my blade once into the ground, instantly the combat stopped, each soldier turning to face me.

"I believe that is enough practice for now, review the forms I have shown you today, tomorrow we will be conducting live fire drills with Thorak's Clan" The Marines were quick to put away their weapons, serfs would would come by later to take them to be repaired.

As our group started to collect our real weapons and carry on to different duties, an alarm sounded through Erebor, a deep bellowing claxon that shook the very stone.

In an instant years of training snapped into place, weapons were loaded and Astartes poured out from the room. My vox called for my attention, a voice coming through as soon as I accepted it, it was Richard, my head Serf.

"My lord, Lady Amber has been attacked, she was found knocked unconscious in her quarters. I moved her to the Apothecarium for treatment under guard." Ice filled my soul, dread grasping my hearts as my mind raced to what would happen if she had died. A casted off daughter or not, her father was powerful, far more so than I.

"Lock down the Fortress. Every entrance and exit." I cut the connection before he could speak, opening the channel to all Astartes in Erebor.

"An intruder has made their way into our home. The Fortress is going into a first level lockdown." My message sent I turned to the Unchosen, awaiting orders.

"All of you know what to do, be ready, we will call upon you if it is needed." They saluted and went forward, me and my Clan hurrying down a different path. The levels of lockdown meant different things. As there were a number of Unchosen with no designated commander, they would report to the closest critical area of the Monastery until further notice, waiting to be called to battle.

I had fears that the Dark Eldar had returned to Tarth, that the Archon I had thrown off my world years ago had not forgotten the insult, as they never do. Searching through all of the Monastery for a single or small group of enemies would take time, time for them to learn more about us and our secrets.

Our boots pounded on the floor as I sought out my target, the two Psykers who lived within our walls. I entered into the Librarium, the smell of paper and ink filling my senses before they faded into obscurity.

Deeper I went, passed the fearful serfs and stacks of paper, down the rows of books I turned to the left, coming upon a large steel door, runes carved into its surface.

The doors opened, the hairs on my neck standing up as I entered into the chamber, a large circle carved into the floor, runes of arcane nature twisting their way to the center. Dim lamps shone from the corners, casting faded shadows across our forms.

Solomon and Cotus stood a meter apart, hands holding their staffs in front of them as they chanted, energy swirling around their forms. I stayed at a distance, the Warp was something I had a fearful respect for, something all Astartes should have.

Cotus opened his eyes, an unearthly light shining in them for a moment before he stepped out of the circle.

"When we heard the alarm we started to try and find who had entered your home, but they are masking their presence from us."

"Its a Psyker then?" The wolf shifted his grip on his weapon, resting on it a bit more.

"I cannot say for sure. They may just have a small signature, or it could be hidden from us. Regardless, you must continue your search on foot." I nodded, looking to Solomon, eyes still closed, his face twitching from time to time in effort.

"Let me know if anything changes." Cotus nodded and returned to the circle, the intensity from before returning as he opened himself to his powers.

I turned from the library and walked to the Apothecarium. Mortal soldiers, Serfs trained for the defense of the Monastery moved passed us in groups, all of the Fortress pushed into motion to find our intruder.

The doors of the Medicea opened, a long hallway of cold steel, more metal doors every few meters that lead to operation rooms. It was here that our sick and injured were cared for, every room had all it needed to treat almost any injury, kept stocked at all times. Passed these dozens of doors I went deeper, the Apothecarium designed to be confusing to navigate to an outsider.

In one of the farthest back rooms I entered, Maximus standing at the ready, the storage that held the Chapter's Geneseed behind him. Malachi and four Unchosen stood beside him, bolters raised to the door. Max strode forward, his blade humming with energy.

"Drake." I nodded to him and looked to the side of room where Amber laid on a table, a Serf seeing to her injury.

"Did you look her over?" He nodded, frowning slightly.

"I know she's important, but so is your Chapter's future, you should see to this intruder quickly." I walked over to her limp body, the Serf bowing and moving to the side.

"Has she shown any signs of regaining consciousness?" The Medicea shaking her head.

"No my Lord, we could wake her up, but we don't know how she came to be as she is. It could be dangerous." I looked back at Maximus for a moment and he nodded.

"We need to know what she saw." The Serf nodded and grabbed a syringe of adrenaline, plunging it into her chest and forcing the drugs into her system, pulling it out as Amber heaved forward, breath coming in ragged grasps.

Her eyes were wide and fearful, hair spinning as her head wiped from side to side. Her eyes landed on me, a dozen emotions flashing through her eyes before they narrowed.

"Find that pointy eared bitch." I blinked for a moment as Maximus took a step forward.

"Its Eldar then. A Craftworder?" Amber looked at the Gray Knight, somehow growing used to his presence in the long years.

"I think so, a Psyker, she had a staff with her."

"How many of them were there?"

"Just her, I think she was after something." She winced and grasped her head, Maximus striding forward and placed his hand over her head, his gauntleted hand covering her entire face. His eyes blazed with power for a moment before his lip curled in disgust.

"There is faint remnant around you, your memories may have been tampered with. What do you remember? Did she say anything?" Amber's eyebrows dipped as she thought.

"There was a memory , she knows you, somehow." Her eyes turned to me and I felt the eyes of everyone in the room do the same. Maximus took a step back, arms crossing.

"Explain Drake." My eyes flickered to him, covered by the helm I wore.

"Years ago I met an Eldar during a battle, Orks were involved and we fought alongside one another before we went our separate ways. We meet again across the centuries a few times, sometimes as foes and sometimes as allies."

Silence dominated the room for a few moments before I turned to the door, Maximus's voice coming from behind me.

"This Xenos had attacked one of your vassals Drake, you know what you must do." I turned and nodded to him, retracing my steps as my Clan followed be out of the Apothecarium. At the entrance I stopped, facing them.

"Go and join the search, I have something I need to see." Varus and Domhnall took a step forward, both having served with me since childhood.

"We don't want you going alone Chapter Master." I shook my head, taking half a step away.

"That's an order." They dipped his helm and turned away, heavy boots thudding on the stone floor. I turned and walked towards a different hallway, mind churning as I thought about what I had to do.

Up stone steps I walked, the long pathway seemed to stretch forever until I came to the steel door, two drakes carved into each half. Even from inside I could hear thunder shaking the mountain, rain coming down in mighty swells. I took a step out onto the balcony, the same place that I spent thinking about our future, the wind howling around us.

She was standing there, resting a hand on the stone as the rain fell down her form, cloak sticking to her armor, hood thrown up.

"You've made something great here for yourself." Like all Eldar her voice was melodus, exotic and alien, it made my skin crawl.

"I was given a task that I'm trying to fulfill." We were silent for a time, watching the shadows grew, the sun setting, darkness spreading, the world illuminated by flashes of lighting.

"What did you come here for? You shouldn't have an interest in Tarth." She gazed upwards for a long moment before reaching into her robes and pulling out a necklace, golden thread looped around glowing stones. I stared at them for a moment before my lip curled in annoyance. The necklace that had landed Amber here in the first place, the attempted selling of a world gifted to her by her father. She had kept it from us.

"Amber had souls of your people this entire time." She nodded, placing them back into her satchel.

"I first heard about it a few years ago. It took awhile for me to discover where and when I would get the opportunity to secure them. My kin thought it would be wise to send a group, but I convinced them to let me go alone." I breathed in and out, all my training, years of hate and loss boiling inside of me, waiting to be unleashed, but I stayed my hands.

"This will cause problems for me." Her lips twitched in a smirk.

"I'm sure you will find a way to explain." Back into silence we descended, the storm growing in strength, clouds swirling around the mountains peak.

"You need to leave." She nodded, stepping up onto the stone and turning to face me, eyes glowing in the darkness.

"Your secret is safe with me. Asturi, Iron Drake. I look forward to Fiallathandirels progress." I frowned at the alien words as she took one final step off the edge, falling down into the darkness below. I had no worry she would not be found, but I did worry about how I could explain. While many Astartes had fought alongside Eldar, we had fought against them tenfold more.

I stood there in silent contemplation while the rain roared down around me, wind buffeting my form. For almost an hour I stood, mind twisting and turning with different excuses that may make my brothers believe that letting the Eldar go was a correct one. I stood in silence until my feet turned towards the door, locking it behind me as I descended back into the Monastery. At the base of the steps I was meet with the Salamander Chaplain, firelight flickering across his skulled helmet.

I stopped at the base of the stairs, the two of us regarding one another in silence for a few moments until he spoke.

"Your Squad told me you sent them away, and Maximus told me your story. Explain." I paused, seeing his hand resting on his weapon, we were alone in the hallway.

" A Farseer that I met years ago. She came for souls of her people." Samuel was still as a statue, the red lenses of his helmet dancing in the light.

"You gave Spirit Stones to a Xenos." I nodded, watching the way his hand twitched.

"Many would see this as assisting the enemy." He took a step forward.

"Did you not sear to burn the Heretic." Another step.

"To purge the unclean."

"To kill the witch." He was almost touching me know, our chest plates centimeters apart.

"I swore an oath to protect humanity, to serve the Emperor and kill our enemies. For today, she was not an enemy nor an ally. Attacking her would have escalated the problem, brought an army of angered Eldar upon our heads. Tarth was not ready." Samuel breathed deep, air sucked through his armors vents.

"What would the others think, knowing that you willingly let an Eldar Witch go, with Soul Stones." I stared into deaths visage, wondering how far he would push this.

"I saw an opportunity to ensure my Chapter wasn't wiped out by a Craftworld. Besides, she knows about Aragorn, if she let such information slip to Inquisitors, what we are building here would be destroyed."

I looked down the hallway as a small group of Serfs rounded the corner, stopping when the saw the two of us.

"My lords! Is there any news of the invader?" I took a step back from Samuel and shook my head.

"There has been no sight of them since Amber was attacked, continue your patrol, we will look through all of the Fortress to find them." The squad saluted and continued passed, Samuel watching them go before walking away, the sound of his boots echoing off the walls like doom filled drums.

I'm going to do my best to have chapter 16 out before Christmas. Its mostly done already as I had split this chapter after realizing it was headed into the 50+ page mark for a single chapter. To much to read in one sitting I believe.

Anyways, looking forward to to any comments or criticisms about this chapter, kinda feels a little filler to me but, I think it was needed as I attempt to continue to establish the world and the characters in it. Until next time.