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THE LEGION OF THE DAMNED

‘Of all the legends of the Imperium, one of the strangest is that of the

Legion of the Damned. For those who know where to look, there are many

corroborated accounts of these otherworldly warriors, their unexpected

appearance upon a desperate battlefield, and their sudden and

inexplicable disappearance at the battle’s end.’

- Inquisitor D. Meloriac, Ordo Chronos

There is a legend, whispered in secret by a suspicious few, that the Emperor has the

loyalty of a force from beyond reality. An army of vengeance and of flame, a brotherhood

of warriors who appear at first glance to be Space Marines but quickly prove to be more

lethal than even those most formidable of warriors. This force appears unbidden when all

hope seems lost, striding from their hidden netherworld to bring retribution to the

Imperium’s foes. Once their bloody work is complete they vanish into myth once more.

These warriors are variously said to dwell in the spaces between this world and the realm

of the Warp, in the hopes and dreams of desperate men, and in a pocket of reality

eternally lit by the fires of hatred. Rare is the man that has witnessed the sudden violence

of their attack, rarer still those with the strength of will to keep their sanity intact

afterwards.

This force is known only as the Legion, or more specifically, the Legion of the Damned.

SAVIOURS FROM BEYOND

Little is truly known about the Legion, though a few truths have come to light as reports

of their manifestations have been collated and compared. They invariably attack to save

some part of the Imperium from disaster, a fact that implies they have powers of

prediction that even the most gifted of seers and prophets cannot rival. Whenever the

Legion of the Damned appears on the field of battle, they do so without warning. Bursting

out of a sulphurous cloud of flame, they stride from nothingness, adorned with icons of

the grave. With a terrible efficiency, they cut down the foe, not a wasted motion nor a

spoken word giving pause to their dark work.

The Legion is always clad in ceramite of deepest black. Despite their surroundings,

whether they appear in the brightly lit haven of a planetary governor or under the glare of

a sun at its zenith, their armour seems to consume natural light. Even direct torchlight

does not illuminate them. Instead, the pale bones and death’s heads emblazoned on their

armour are lit by a lambent fire, their armour flickering as if each Legionnaire has been

set alight with some combustible chemical. It is more likely these pyrotechnics are

psychic in nature, for they blaze bright whenever the Legion’s blades sink into the flesh of

their victims. There have been several accounts of Legionnaires becoming little more than

pillars of flame at the height of an engagement; on such occasions, the individual will

fight with terrible ferocity before succumbing to the flame and disappearing from reality.

To witness the Legion of the Damned fight at close quarters is to observe true martial

prowess, for they combine the brutal power of the Space Marine’s gene-enhanced

physique with the expertise and insight of a veteran weapons master. Knives plunge deep

through exposed joints and into thundering hearts, bone-clad fingers stab through throats

and eye sockets before returning, red and wet, to the triggers of their guns. Here and

there, a hurled combat knife claims the life of an enemy trying to escape; never aiming to

wound, always to kill. The Legionnaires attack with an economy of motion that leaves

even the warriors of the Adeptus Astartes wide-eyed with surprise.

Though their ornate suits of ceramite are as efficacious as that worn by any other Space

Marine, the Legionnaires are able to shrug off wounds that would cut apart even a warrior

clad in Tactical Dreadnought armour. Energised blades slice them without resistance,

melta beams and plasma volleys pass right through them without causing the slightest

harm. Sometimes such deadly weapons find their mark, inflicting horrific damage and yet

not slowing the Legionnaires in the slightest. Those who witness such ethereal sights at

first conclude that their deliverers are some manner of ghost or spirit, though the

destruction the apparitions mete out soon puts the lie to the idea they exist only beyond

the veil.

The impression of burning vengeance is always uppermost in the minds of those that

witness the Legion of the Damned on the attack. Not only do their bolter shots ignite the

air in stabbing lances of energy as the Legionnaires march towards the foe, but they bring

to war a great many flamers, heavy flamers and multi-meltas, incinerating with pitiless

efficiency those foes that cower from their sudden assault. Those enemies that simply

stand agog at their sudden change of fortunes are blasted apart with expertly placed mass-

reactive bolts.

However, after-action pict analysis has put a mysterious twist on even these most

fundamental of Adeptus Astartes kill-tactics. Imperial scholars have concluded that the

Legionnaires are able to fire far more bolts from their weapons than the ammunition

capacity of their clips would suggest – indeed, no footage has ever been recorded of any

kind of weapon reload, even in the most protracted of engagements.

Once the tide of battle has been turned, and those in need of rescue have been freed from

the threat that had closed around them, the Legionnaires vanish from sight. Some

witnesses say they looked away for a second only to look back and find nothing there,

others that the Legion shimmers before disappearing like a fading holograph. The strange

static that accompanies these disappearances prevents any proper record of their exit

from the field. Those monitoring devices that are able to steal evidence of a Legion

manifestation invariably have machine spirits that are badly traumatised, and have to be

coaxed back into life by a talented Magos or Techmarine before they will yield any secrets

at all.

A peculiar property of any mass apparition is that it will quickly fade from memory. If an

investigator wishes to obtain any kind of first-hand account, he must visit those who

witnessed the incident within days, preferably hours, for the presence of these strange

Space Marines erases itself from the mind much as a dream or nightmare. Nonetheless,

the scent of burnt flesh lingers in the nostrils and on the tongue for weeks, years, or even

the rest of the witness’s life, resulting in disturbing thoughts that can never quite be

traced back to their source.

Codex - Legion of the Damned [2014-03-01].pdf

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