La journée devenait de plus en plus intéressante, d'abord les Enfants de l'Empereur et maintenant l'un des étranges adorateurs de Tzeentch Astartes était arrivé sur les lieux. En fait, le Fils Mille pour être très dur à fixer sur lui. Guroth se blottit à l'intérieur de son armure et tourna son attention vers les Marines de la Légion Noire. Maintenant, il y avait un défi digne, une fois qu'ils étaient hors du chemin, il pouvait monter à bord de leur navire et ensuite voir ce que la galaxie avait à offrir d'autre. D'abord, il devrait juste couper quelques-uns des amorçages à bras noirs...
Il a froncé en entendant chanter, puis quelque chose de plus profond à l'intérieur de son corps et Guroth a étranglé légèrement, chaque muscle de son corps s'est soudainement senti faible et lourd. C'était comme s'il se déplaçait dans l'humeur, avec un rugissement guttural de détermination, il se forçait à aller de l'avant. Il ne se verrait pas refuser la chance d'un combat, pas quand il y aura tant d'ennemis dignes si près de la main.
Il se sentait comme si chaque pore de son corps était soudainement bouffé de chaleur et Guroth sautait en avant, balançant sa hache autour d'une manœuvre gracieuse qui bafouait la nature brutale de son apparence extérieure. Il pouvait sentir le dernier sort du chaos sorcier s'écouler lentement de son corps et ses muscles étaient une fois de plus sous son contrôle. Le premier des marines de la Légion noire se précipita pour le rencontrer et Guroth apporta sa lame au-delà du cri de l'autre, puis retourna son arme à la seconde possible pour l'amener se balancer dans le côté du casque corné de la Légion noire.
La hache de Khornate mord profondément avec un rugissement de moteur et le cri de la céramite torturée. La hache de Guroth s'est évanouie pendant un moment essoufflée, puis elle s'est déchirée sur le côté du crâne de l'autre Astarte dans une averse de sang et de tissu cérébral liquéfié qui s'est vaporisé de l'horrible gaze de la barre noire dans un arc pourpre. Le fils de la Légion Noire s'y tenait pendant un moment, se balançant légèrement, avant de s'effondrer lentement au sol dans un crash de métal.
Le rire grondeur de Guroth échoua à travers le paysage urbain alors qu'il s'élança dans la mêlée vers le visage le prochain de ses ennemis, sans se soucier de l'issue ou de la blessure qu'il pourrait subir. Tout ce qui comptait en ce moment était la joie de la bataille.
Name: Guroth the Cheerful
Age: 700 years ... he's not exactly sure just how old he is, mathematics not being a strong suit of his.
Legion/Warband/Chapter: The Skulltakers
Planet of Origin: Karugax
Physical Description: Rather ugly-looking even by the standards of traitor marines, Guroth sports a gap-toothed grin set in heavy-browed face that gives way to a sloping forehead. The mane of coarse black hair atop his craggy head is parted down the middle by a thick scar, where something heavy hit him in the head long ago. One of his squinty eyes is slightly lazy, so you can never tell if he's trying to stare into your soul or looking off past you.
Skillset: Like most Khornate marines, Guroth prefers to wield melee weapons and he's centuries of experience to become very, very good.
History: Guroth's story begins on the desert moon of a planet that had the bad luck to be positioned on the rim of the eye of terror. The youths he grew up with - and who became chaos marines themselves - could attest that he was a bit of an odd, even as a child. He was prone to wandering around with vague look in his eyes and losing himself in flights of fancy. Yet, for a such a scatter-brained lad, he would never back down from any kind of physical challenge, win or lose.
Perhaps that bloody-minded determination was why he was able to survive the coming of the chaos marines. During the attack, he was clipped by a piece of falling rubble and it was enough to leave a noticeable groove in his skull. The marines who'd carried out the raid had come seeking sacrifices and new recruits for their warband.
One of the marines was about to finish him off, declaring him unsuitable. To the amazement of all, the boy stood up, swaying slightly and humming a nonsense song under his breath. Then he just stood there, staring at the chaos marine with glazed eyes. So it was that the traitor astartes lowered his chainsword and had him rounded up with the others.
Perhaps it was through mental strength or his head injury just made him unaware to the rigors of the ordeal. Either way, he survived the process of becoming a space marine and one of chaos at that. While he did recover during the brutal training process, those acolytes that knew him growing up said he was never quite the same after that. Whether that was due to his head injury or the Darwinian fashion in which the dark astartes select their recruits is a matter of debate.
Once he was a full-fledged space marine, Guroth wasted no time in seeing just how many fights he could get himself into. His almost savant-like dedication to his weapons training and his good-natured ferocity served him in good stead. He would become known for both acts of berserk courage that defied rational understanding and for his extremely bizarre rationale for his actions.
A classic example is how he was able to bully a handful of other traitor marines into something resembling a warband and set out to raid and pillage to his heart's - and his extra hearts' - content. The first raid was on a remote imperial planet and was going fairly successfully until Guroth found a woman cowering in the shattered remains of a house. Upon seeing the woman was with child, his convoluted thinking process led him to believe that her unborn child might grow up to become a great warrior and offer him a worthy challenge.
Of course, his fellow chaos marines immediately protested this decision ... and so he proceeded to fight them all to the death. Some say he knew letting the woman go was going to cause such an outcome and that was exactly what he wanted all along.
Such is the treacherous nature of the warp.
So it was that the joy-filled butcher spent the many years of his gore-soaked life, happily blundering his way from one blood-soaked misadventure to another.
It was during a clash with some xenos that he and the marines he was with learned of the Warmaster Abbadon's great march towards Cadia. Excited at the prospect of so many different types of foes to clash with, Guroth immediately left to go see how many different people he could smite.
Psychological Profile: Chaos Marines are not noted for being the most level-headed or well-adjusted of individuals, but even by their seemingly arbitrary standards, Guroth is a bit of an oddity. Not once has he ever tried to vanquish an enemy through trickery or so much as laid a hand on the innocent. Whether this is out of some sense of honor or he simply considers such people too weak to be worthy of his attention, no one knows.
Another strange attribute of his, is his deep booming laugh. Hence the moniker, "the cheerful." According to rumor and hearsay, the chaos Astarte's laugh is not always one of cruelty, but he's often genuinely amused by the goings-on around him. His unceasingly cheerful outlook has been the cause of much confusion for his fellow traitor marines and the forces of the Imperium alike.
Unlike many of his counterparts, he doesn't seem to bear his foes any real ill will. Instead, he seems to derive great joy from the chance to engage in battle with those he deems to be worthy foes.
At first glance, his personality and his conduct in battle may seem contrary to the Khornate way of life. One must not forget that the ways of chaos are often contradictory, such is the nature of the warp. The same entity that Guroth worships might very well acknowledge his martial valor and honor as readily as the rampage of a crazed murderer.
As such, he seems largely content to wander through space and occasionally join bands of other chaos marines, seeking worthy foes.
Surprisingly, especially when considering his ... erratic nature, Guroth is actually a fairly competent tactician and noted for his ability to remain rational under fire.
Equipment: Power armor, shield and chain-axe.