Its about time that I got round to forming this. Theres a few more stories im awaiting, or continuations. If your sat on one please send it in and I will update.

Bobahats Excellent Biograhy of Chapter Master Vladimir Pugh
Vladimir Pugh was born into a poverty-stricken worker family in Hive Njord on the ice world of Inwit. His father had died shortly after Vladimir was born in a gas mining accident. This resulted in Vladimir’s blind mother caring for her children on her own and the children were forced to work for food. Despite her disability, his mother did possess a talent for storytelling. In the evenings she would tell great tales of the almighty Emperor and his golden angels who travelled the skies and fought the forces of evil. Young Vladimir was especially taken by the tale that the most noble of the Emperor’s sons Rogal Dorn himself may have actually been born on Inwit. It seemed too fantastical but Vladimir loved to pretend that he was one of the golden angels his mother spoke of. She had told him that she had seen them as a young girl before she turned blind. In golden ships they came and took the bravest and finest boys to their fortress in the sky. Vladimir suspected that this was something she made up to impress him though. How could such things be true?

Vladimir was the oldest of four brothers, and from an early age he was sent to work the streets as a runner for local businesses. At the age of nine, Vladimir was already large for his age and showed amazing mathematical and organisational skills. He caught the eye of a local loan shark called Jaco Parthil who took him under his wing. Vladimir would run errands and organise Parthil’s business, for an extremely modest salary. He quickly made friends with Parthil’s thugs and worked out ways to increase their salary without their boss finding out. He was a quiet boy who rarely smiled but his intelligence was second to none. Vladimir was drawn to the shadowy life of illegal affairs and on his twelfth birthday he controlled Parthil’s business completely and indirectly controlled several others. Parthil himself did not realise this until it was too late. He reportedly fell out of a sixth floor window a week later.

All of this was completely unbeknownst to Vladimir’s family who continued their daily life although his mother was very pleased with her son bringing home such good pay for running errands. A year later the whole family moved out of the one-room hab-unit and into a nicer apartment.
Things were going well for Vladimir who was affectionately known to his associates as ‘The Brain’. Despite his extremely young age, Vladimir commanded great respect among his men and had an amazing ability to instantly see through someone. Nobody could scam young Vladimir.

But it was not to last.

Inevitably, high-hive gangs became jealous of the success of this low-hive teenage upstart. On a fateful night a group of masked figures broke into Vladimir’s home when he was away, and murdered his brothers. His mother was left alive to pass the message that he was to back down and give up his business.
The incident threw Vladimir into a rage. He ordered retaliatory attacks on every high-hive gang in the city, much to the disagreement of his men, and brought the whole lot down on his outfit. It was a complete disaster.
Vladimir was driven out of his area and his men abandoned him. He managed to escape with his mother to the underhives where there were no rules.

Now fourteen years old, Vladimir swore revenge. His organisational talent soon found its place in the chaos of the underhive. He built up a means of gathering food and equipment and at the same time trained himself physically. This came naturally in the unforgiving environment but he also knew that he would need to be able to take on gang thugs if it became necessary. He mustered a gang of desperate souls who either were born in the underhive or outcasts like himself. His mother would tell them stories like she had done when he was small and they would listen and be inspired. Soon their numbers grew and before long hundreds of underhive recreants gathered together every night to hear the tales. Vladimir envied his mother’s gift of speech. His skills were merely logistical and practical.
Listening to his mother speak of great and ancient battles, however, awoke a fire within him that he knew he could never awaken in others. His gift of insight did not fail him however.
Either way it was clear; These people who gathered to listen to the old blind woman every night were yearning for a change, wishing for the tales to come true and save them from their underhive misery.
If only they could be inspired to take action. If they would follow him. Then his revenge would be a reality and all these people would be on the road to a better life.

A bitter, tragic plan formed in his mind. It would break his heart but it would set his plan in motion. He would unleash the rebellion tonight.
In the darkness of the night Vladimir slit his mother’s throat.
He carried her body into the square where she told her tales and cried out.

‘They have killed her! She is dead.’

The reaction was unprecedented. Led by Vladimir and stricken with grief the people of the underhive invaded the high-hive. Despite their rage, Vladimir commanded them with icy precision and razor sharp decisions. The high-hivers met the attackers with expensive weapons but the underhivers fought with faith. Hundreds died on both sides but it mattered not. Vladimir knew his life meant nothing. All that mattered was victory. And his victory was revenge.
The fires spread for miles and triumph was imminent.

At that moment world exploded into light. Beams of holy light shone down upon the combatants and all became still. Vladimir dropped to his knees as manifestations from his most beautiful dreams appeared before him. A dozen golden vessels, gleaming and magnificent descended from the smog-filled sky. Howling engines like the war cry of gods stabbed at his ears as they landed before him.

On the sides of these ships of gold was a symbol of utter beauty and power.
A single clenched fist, black as night and gleaming like the gauntlet of the Emperor himself.

Vladimir was stunned as the ships of gold came to rest before him. All around him he sensed the same emotion of awe instilled in everyone, friend or foe. For a moment that seemed to last an eternity all stood still. Then as one the vessels opened.

The prows of these ships of the sky slowly expanded as boarding ramps fell to the ground. Vladimir winced as the light from within burned his eyes.
Then he saw them.
From the light of the sky-ships the angels of gold descended. Clad in bright yellow armour and moving with both holy grace and majestic power they came towards him.

Vladimir shivered at their sheer magnificence. Here before his eyes, in the city of his birth was the divine light of the Emperor embodied. He was numbed by their presence, their perfection. Their armour gleamed a golden yellow, in their hands were immense weapons of divine authority, their helmets instilled both dread and assurance and on their chests were the mark of the Emperor himself. Deep red symbols of His divine authority, the perfect beauty of the Imperial aquila - the two headed eagle.

He saw the angels spread out in perfect formation. A dozen they were, each heading in a different direction. One advanced directly towards Vladimir.
The golden angel halted before him, a giant figure towering above the kneeling youth.

For a moment all was still. Then as one the angels attacked.

Vladimir sensed the other angels around the area swing their fists and then he felt an explosion of pain as the angel before him hammered him to the ground. The sensation of a golden iron gauntlet to his face was that of worlds colliding and he was sent flying. The world spun as Vladimir scrambled to his feet chocked.

The massive figure approached again and before Vladimir could react he felt an iron grip around his neck and was hauled to the air. Around him he could hear sobbing and wails coming from other youths around the plaza who were going through the same treatment but Vladimir remained quiet. Emotion was about to take over but raw cunning flooded his veins instead.

Dangling high above the ground in the angel’s gauntlet Vladimir shifted and with a well-placed swing of his leg he kicked the angel in the face.

The kick knocked the huge helmet clean off revealing a scarred and very surprised face. A human face, Vladimir thought, but not really human at all. More than human.

Vladimir smiled down at the numb struck face and expected that the retaliation would be unavoidable. He closed his eyes and awaited his inevitable death.

But it never came.

He opened his eyes slightly and saw the angel smiling back at him, the smile widening and turning into a deep laugh. He spared a glance around and saw that all the other golden figures were looking his way and seemed to be laughing too.

‘This one has spirit,’ said the angel holding him and gently put Vladimir down.
‘What’s your name, boy?’

Vladimir was dumbfounded but managed to mumble his name.
The angel winked at him and then grabbed him by the arm and jerked him towards one of the awaiting ships.

A few other lads were also dragged away while but most were left where they lay, sobbing and curled up in terror. The angel noticed Vladimir’s confusion and said,

‘We only take those with heart. We are the fist of the Emperor, boy. Prepare yourself for one hell of a journey!’

The ship’s ramp clanged shut and Vladimir saw his home for the last time.

Thanks to Zorag for Chief Librarian Franz Grenstein
Cheif Librarian Grenveich is a shadowy figure, dueling scars making hime seem very menacing. His mind is a gateway to the warp, and has heard whispers of the daemon, but has never given in. His power opens a massive vortex killing hordes of enemys and friends alike. This power has made him an invaluable asset but one to be used carefully. Unlike most librarians his armor is yellow, proudly displaying his colours. His force weapon is a converted thunderhammer, and armor a mkIV terminator suit. shaven head implanted with a pshicic hood, 5 service studs adorning his brow. Using his powers he speeds himself up to charge into the fray, faster than even the scout. He once led a deathwatch kill team under Inquisitor Durik, returned to his chapter after 75 years of service in the deathwatch. His left leg was burned off from tyranid acid and is now bionic. Being Pughs right hand they have often fought together and Pugh rarely goes into battle without his insight.
More Zealous than several chaplains he will praise Dorn after every death of a battle brother.

Thanks to Marshal Thrace for
Techmarine Anton Shukhov

Now entering his fourth century as a Techmarine of the Imperial Fists Chapter, Shukhov has held the title of Master of The Forge for a little over a decade. Described as taciturn and laconic every warrior of the Chapter knows that when he speaks a great deal of thought has gone into every word and it is not uncommon for his counsel on a variety of matters to be sought from Master Pugh to new Scouts in matters as diverse as siege warfare or weapon rituals.

Shukhov earned the right to be master after a number of amazing feats especially in the art of siege defence most notably against the Iron Warriors on the Cardinal World of Avignor where he oversaw the construction of a number of new fortifications, the most important of which were those around the Ecclesiarchy Palace which allowed a force of Marines and Sisters of Battle to hold off the Siege Engines of their bitter foes for nearly 3 weeks until Captain Lysander arrived with a strike force aboard the Phalanx to drive off the Iron Warriors.

It is not uncommon for Shukhov to take to the field of battle but unlike other Techmarines who take many Servitors to assist in their work Shukhov has found that his skills with a Thunder Hammer are more than welcome and usually joins a unit tasked with assaulting enemy fortifications or targeting especially dangerous vehicles or Xenos. This non-conventional approach has led to Techmarines from other Chapters questioning the Imperial Fists training and deployment of its Techmarines although none have lodged anything official with either the Imperial Fists or the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Having fought on many battlefields across The Imperium it is the time between the battles that has also made Shukhov renowned as he has produced some of the greatest weapons in the armoury. Several of these are carried by Captains of the Imperial Fists and it is said that even Master Pugh has acquired a large two-handed Power Sword that he has started to favour especially when joining the Terminators of the First Company.

With his trademark Thunder Hammer Shukhov continues to maintain the armouries of the Imperial Fists where he and his Techmarines will continue to provide their Brothers with the best equipment from Bolt Pistols to Thunderhawk so they may confound their enemies.

A shout out to Cpt. Garrick for the Captain of the 3rd Company Asho Kellan.

Asho Kellan was the son of a preacher. His father had not always been a preacher though; his father and his mother had once worked in the munitions factory’s of their home world Vintas Secundas, until the fateful day of his mother’s death.

The factory’s were notoriously dangerous place to earn a living and it was common occurrence for workers to be maimed and indeed killed whilst fabricating the imperiums weapons of war, Asho’s mother had been torn apart in a accidental explosion and for Asho and his father Merrick the grief was to much to bare,
Merrick quickly quit his position at the factory and he went into seclusion and alcoholism unable to deal with day to day life and care for his 8 year old son.

It wasn’t long before Merrick started to take his anguish out on Asho often beating him to a bloody pulp for anything Asho did or said that he perceived to be naughty.
At first Asho would cry himself to sleep after each beating but after awhile he started to provoke his father into beating him, he would find the pain a release from his emotional hurt and he welcomed the punishment.

Around the time of Asho’s tenth birthday he and his father were walking back to their hab unit with grocery’s, as they reached the dark hallway of their hab complex they were set about by four gangers, the gangers were knowns as juvies but they were younger and faster than Merrick and older and stronger than Asho also they carried iron bars and a knife, Merrick managed to break through but as he was fleeing he was stabbed in the back, he made it back to there apartment and locked the door leaving Asho to his fate. Asho was fighting for his life and try as the juvies might they couldn’t bring the younger boy down their iron bars were rendered useless by the tight confines of the hallway and the knife had been lodged in the back of Merrick as he fled.

All they had to pummel the boy with were their fists and Asho had received enough beatings to weather all the bigger boy’s could give and by the time someone came to Asho’s aid he was beginning to gain an advantage, as the older boy’s began to tire Asho had started to counter their punches, with the intervention the older boy’s fled and Asho attempted to give chase he made six strides before collapsing with exhaustion.

When Asho came back around he realised he was in hospital with his father beside his bed, Merrick had tiers streaming down his face, my boy I’m so sorry I’ve been a coward and a fool, sitting here next to you’re bed not knowing weather you would come out of this coma has made me think allot about the last couple of years since you’re mother passed, I’ve been the worst farther on Vintas, but as I’ve slept here next to you I had a dream or maybe a vision I’m not sure boy, but what I am sure of is what to do next. What’s that father? Asked Asho. I’m going to preach the god Emperor’s word my boy but before I do this we must journey to Terra so that I may ask for absolution.

Thanks to the puritan for the 9th Company Captain DiDonato

For as far back as he can remember, Pasquale DiDonato had dreamed of becoming a Space Marine.

His family had been transplanted from a number of planets in the path of the Tyranid Hive Fleet Gorgon. Each time, when it seemed that all was lost, a chapter of Marines would come to their aid and evacuate them.

They were his saviors. They weren't helpless like his parents or the other adults close to him and they never showed signs of fear like the PDF often would.

This is what he wanted to be, a fearless protector of humanity.

Although quite smaller than his younger brother, Antonio, Pasquale knew that being the eldest son put him in a good postion for induction into a recruiting chapter.
He trained himself every day, in every way he could conceive of. He dreamt of how his recruitment and eventual training would be, pushing himself accordingly in areas he thought they might test him in.

When Hive Fleet Gorgon next attacked, both Pasquale and Antonio were soldiers in the PDF.
While the men beside them quaked in fear, the DiDonato brothers trembled in anticipation. Both brothers knew that if they fought bravely, they could be seen by the rescuing Marines as worthy of induction.

Pasquale received his first test of faith when the doors to his transport vehicle swung open.

He saw the alien tide overtake the entirety of the landscape in a matter of moments. Whole squads of men were devoured, seemingly instantainously, as the xenos swarmed over them. Giant monstrosities brushed aside high-powered weaponry and armored vehicles with ease.

He saw his childhood memories with the eyes of a man in that moment.
Each time a chapter of Marines would come to their aid, they retreated... they had never once stayed to fight off the invading Hive Fleet.

He felt betrayed by his own dream.

In time, they were aided again by Marines. This time, however, the rescuing chapter did not evacuate the families to the transport ships.

They advanced their positions. They built fortifactions. They stayed. They fought.

...and, in time, those yellow-clad Marines won.

These are all very good! I enjoyed reading them. The endings are particularly well written.

These are really nice! I also enjoyed reading them a lot.

BBL

Yes, there's a part of the one of the stories that I won't forget easily. 'And in time, those yellow clad Marines won.'

:D These are great keep them coming :ImpFist: