Everard Aetheus

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Joranus Aetheus.JPG

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Rank

Consul Chaplain, Master of the Iterators


Current Status

Confirmed sighting within the Pyre System


Bio

Everard Aetheus, like his close friend Joranus Montbard, was from the start a dedicated believer of the Imperial Truth. His view of the Imperium is a simple black and white, those who accept the Imperial Truth and those are in need of conversion or, failing the latter, extermination. Such is his ties with the Iterators that he has become a beacon to those discarded individuals who were so indispensable during the Great Crusade, drawing them to him and the Company and amassing a cadre of the faithful to assist him in the continuation of their own Crusade.


History

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.