Joranus Montbard

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Rank

Lord Captain

Current Status

Confirmed sighting within the Pyre System

Bio

Joranus Montbard is a passionate believer of the Imperial Truth and a fervent supporter of Chaplain Everard and his rebuilding of the Iterator cadres, however he does not have the same oration skills as his close friend; or the patience. Montbard's tactic largely lies in delivering an ultimatum to senior personnel both on and off the field, to pledge belief in the Imperial Truth or be declared a Heretic and be put to the sword, for this reason the Lord Captain's skills and diplomatic efforts are largely reserved for active warzones where he can inspire the Iterators to greater faith.

History

Joranus has always been a passionate warrior, dedicated to the Great Crusade and all it stood for; the expansion of the Imperium, the eradication of false religion and the spread of the Imperial Truth to the darkest corners of humanity. A long term friend of Joranus Aetheus, the two Astartes have fought dozens of campaigns together and are considered well suited to joint command, often with Montbard in the overall position of authority taking the sage advice of the Consul.

After the incident at Nestro and the conscientious proposal of Ychne Ghrem, Joranus instead took on the role of counsel for his friend who had initial misgivings about the formation of the Company. After a full night of conversation, debate, argument and meditation both comrades emerged united and confident in the decision that their leaders were taking them in the right direction.

Ashes of Pyre

Entering the Combat Zone

The transition to real space was felt throughout the ship as an almost audible sigh reverberating through the corridors as the Cruiser rippled into existance at the further most edge of the Pyre Mandible point. Instantly the Company vessel raised its shields and opened its gun ports, ready for any sort of engagement; without allies or friends, everyone would be considered enemies until they prove their faith to the Imperial Truth.

This would be the first truly independant mission which Joranus had led since the formation of the Company of Kildare, yes there had been dozens of others under the shackles of their Primarch, but it was obvious now that those were from a different life, a different incarnation. Joranus turned to his counsel and friend,

"Are they ready Everard?" The skull faced helmet of his age long comrade tilted to the side as he viewed pict feeds and made vox click requests. Seconds latter the red eyes came back to Joranus and he made a single nod, the eagre grin which is always present when it comes to war almost certainly there.

Likewise Joranus' face brightened and a lopsided smile twisted his mouth. His passion to spread the Truth was burning hard and had been growing since they had entered the Warp weeks earlier, departing Kildrech for the first time since Ychne had convinced the Commander to form the Company. While the Heralds assumed death at Geigenhive had bouyed the misguided spirits of the VIIth, his body, and the Grim Banner, had never been found, hope still remained that Ychne yet survived.

Refocusing the Lord Captain donned his own helm, the golden plume at it top still streaked with the grim of previous battles as is the tradition of the commanders of the Company. Out of habbit his checked his Paragon blade, its power source still depleted and faulty, but its edge nonetheless keen and ready to kill. If the Fate wishes it, its machine spirit will awaken from slumber at the right time to deliver punishment to those who refuse the Truth.

Opening a ship wide channel Joranus gave the orders to commence boarding the three Thunderhawks waiting primed and ready in the hangers. Let the Crusade begin.

Ashes of Pyre~Phase One

The air and earth alike rippled as the mutated Ogryn's slammed into the bulwark of the Leviathan Dreadnought guarding their flank, while the ancient warrior did not expect to survive the diversion his was the task to delay the horde long enough for his brethren to position themselves for the counter charge. The last sensorium feeds crackled and faded out to static as the roaring screams of black clad warriors filled the dreadnought sarcophagus, a glorious sound and a sacrifice well paid.

As the towering Leviathan chassis succumbed Everard screamed in rage, his fury at the felling of such a legacy no longer capable of being contained, his scream morphed and without consciously knowing the Chaplain found himself roaring litanies and commands to his warriors around him. Reminding them of the glorious Crusade they are sworn to and the oaths they have taken on bended knee, to protect the Imperial Truth and the brethren at their side, to vanquish the enemies of the Imperium, no matter what form they take. The Iterator within his squad, faltering at the site of the mutant horde and the loss of the Dreadnought, regained his resolve and joined his master in damning their enemy as followers of a meaningless faith, running towards the enemy with as much gusto as the Astartes around him. Within it all, Joranus remained calm, his twisted smile ever present, absorbing the passion and faith of his comrade and support of his men, his eyes already searching for the heretical witch buried somewhere amongst the corrupted flesh.

Turning eagerly to face the new threat, the mutants appeared unaware or even uncaring for the overwhelming force crashing into them like Assault ram through the outer hull of crippled cruiser. Moments before the two forces collided a brilliant gale of nothingness swept across the field, not a single blade of grass stirred, but the soulds of each person felt the force of the Warp tear through the air as their accompanying Navigator opened his lidless eye and forced the mutants to stare directly into the horrors of their false gods. Flesh erupted from a combined impact of unreality and Astartes warriors. Unable to corner the witch Joranus paired with Everard and carved their way through the monstrous brutes, leading the way for their sworn warriors, their own axes cleaving an ever widening path of blood and gore behind them. As soon as the Company brethren secured the fallen Leviathan the Apothecary sheathed his sword and began working on the sarcophagus, desperately trying to revive and stabilize the ancient warrior within. A single vox click above the turmoil of the battle gave Joranus the assurance he was waiting for; Gerhard would survive.

Swinging his derelict blade to clear it of the black ichor from the last fiend he had struck, Everard clasped his shoulder and turned him a fraction, his eyes immediately locking onto the staggering witch attempting to flee into the freshly arrived fleshbags. His eye lenses flared and without need of an order the Astartes line surged forward once again, this time the Iterator needing no rousing, his voice already heard strong over the chaos of the engagement coupled with the cold edged promises of death from the skull faced Chaplain. Cut off before she could bury herself amidst the mob coming to her rescue, the witch turned to face the oncoming fury of Joranus, raising her arms in contemptuous salute, the eldritch chill of the immatterium seeping into the air around her. Without hesitation the Company's Lord Captain cleaved his ancient weapon, his twisted smile widening at the last minute as the sword crackled to life with a blue surge, illuminating the startled eyes of the Witch before beheading her in a swift, smooth cut.

Before the mutated woman's corpse hit the ground though, it convulsed and boiled, a figure formed from within began rising, bursting the skin apart, spilling organs and tissue across the ground and the surrounding fighters. With its summoning incomplete and its host destroyed before full manifestation the daemon entered the world confused and weakened; the overwhelming assault of the Navigators lidless stares coupled with the pure hatred coupled and the conviction of disbelief in its very existence emanating from those around it caused the Daemons form to shudder and weaken further. The glowing blue sword punching through its chest proved too much for the warp denizen to sustain and he fled back to the immatterium.

Elsewhere the battle continued but a private war had been won as Joranus sheathed his sword, Everard nodded silently to him and softly clapped the panting Iterator on the back, a gesture which would be remembered by the man for the rest of his life.

.....

The ship shuddered reassuringly as the translation to realspace brought them out of the immaterium. Almost immediately the ships auguries picked up multiple weapon tracking signals from powerful sentry stations watching over the Mandeville point. A querying burst of data was shot at them from the closest station, the ships machine spirit automatically answering with a similar burst and the tracking signals disappeared.

The helmsman turned his head from the sensor array in front of him, "It appears that the VIIth legion codes are still valid m'lord, probably too much chaos since the Insurrection for them to have updated the data cogitators of all Legion ships yet". Joranus nodded acknowledgement.

"Or the Emperors forces are desperate enough to accept our help, knowing who we are."

The three Blackshield vessels split up with the two larger Cruisers taking up a patrol orbit around the larger of the defense stations with the smaller of the three moving in towards the station itself. Aboard the ship dozens of Astartes readied themselves; weapons were racked, armour sealed and oaths pledged. Without the need for a surface deployment the preferred insertion tactic decided upon was direct void transition from the ship to the station.

The hanger bays lights flashed from green to amber and then flooded the cavernous room with deep red as the void fields were dropped allowing air and marines both to be swept out of the ship into perpetual dark of the void.