As the defenses around the core of the Imperial Palace begins to fail, Dorn calls Sigismund to his side. During their conversation, he says something that probably meant more to Sigismund than anything else in the galaxy. It's not forgiveness--Dorn is not the most forgiving of primarchs, and that's saying something--but it's the closest thing to his forgiveness Sigismund is ever likely to get and it's still a very emotional, poignant moment.
Because even after everything that's happened, even though he may never truly forgive Sigismund, Rogal Dorn still loves him.
>‘My lord!’
>
>And then, hearing that voice, he remembered. He had already acted. Typical Rogal Dorn, anticipating his own momentary weakness, he had already put the necessary move in place. He had summoned Sigismund here, to Shard Bastion, to speak to him in person, to give him the command, because he could never falter in front of his son, not this son.
>
>He turned, just for a moment, away from the confusion of the command station, and faced him.
>
>Sigismund wore the black of the Templar Brethren. He had come up to the command level with others of his order, a dozen, and they all looked as grim as one another – fatalistic, hammered into a kind of permanent, shell-shocked fury.
>
>Sigismund’s own expression was wary. He had reason for that – Dorn had run him hard, borne down on him, bathed him in disapproval, ever since Isstvan. The reasons had been sound. Neither of them could have expected any less, given the codes of honour that made them who they were, and Sigismund had never complained.
>
>But there had always been something else, under all that – not quite a test, but maybe a tempering, like that of the best blades. To see if the steel could withstand the fire, be more hard-wearing for it.
>
>‘This is the end,’ Dorn told him flatly. ‘All that could have been done, has been done. Every delay, every counter-strike, every anticipation. Now, they get in. Mercury will fail imminently, then Exultant, then the others.’
>
>Sigismund’s unwavering expression never flickered. He was a cold one. Almost too good an Imperial Fist. Almost a parody of their entire philosophy.
>
>‘Faster than we might have hoped,’ Dorn said. ‘Not as fast as we might have feared. Soon the shape of the battle will change – we will be like dogs in the rubble, scrapping over every habitation. The reserves are ready. You have their coo
So a lot has been written about the duel between Sigismund and Kharn in Warhawk, some by me, some by others, but it is a fantastic piece of writing by Chris Wraight which shows his recurring themes of losing out on emotions and similar.
But one thought occured to me here. Sigismund, as described in the fight by Kharn, is as close to anathema to Chaos as one can get. And what is truly anathema to Chaos? Apathy.
Sigismund sheds blood, but there is no martial respect in it, there is no exultation at the conquest that Khorne feeds off of. There is no rage, no joy, no thrill. Just rote exercise, devoid of feelings and emotions.
For the same reason, Sigismund is no longer trying to better himself during battle. He's not striving for perfection, and he's fighting not because he wants to win, but simply because he has to win. There is no joy in this for him anymore, and so Slaanesh has no hold on him.
In his actions are no inspiration, no new growth or possibility for new life or betterment, nor is he any more interested in things dying other than a threat being removed. And so Nurgle isn't pleased.
And there is no hope in him. Nothing to look forward to, no reason to change anything around. He has completely accepted his lot in life and goes about it without even a shred of belief in changing it, and so Tzeentch is not interested in him.
What we have is pretty much a clear cut case of someone with a very deep depression. All actions are done simply because they must be done; there is no want in him anymore, nothing brings him joy, or sorrow. He just is at this point, closer to a machine than any Iron Hand.
I can understand why Kharn was so upset by this, because it means that the answer to Chaos is to give up all wants and desires. Complete apathy.
So a pretty hilarious part of Warhawk i haven't seen anyone talk about yet is the batshit Typhus subplot. So Mort and Typhus are having their usual arguments, Mort wants to stay put in the starport and send bummer vibes at Dorn for fun, while Typhus wants to push on to the palace and is worried they will get attacked if they stay put. Mort disagrees and sends Typhus to do the duty of retaking the Astronomicon for the Traitors. Typhus disobeys orders and instead hides his company a few miles outside the port. Not to help, or ambush the Whitescars, he does nothing when the Khan attacks, he hides his company just so he can pop out to say "i told you so" to the Deathguard survivors who stagger out of the port. He lets his Primarch get beheaded and the astronomicon possibly be lit just for that pleasure of saying "i knew best" to to a bunch of line soldier Deathguard survivors, none of whom were there for his conversation with Mort.
So now Dorn has recovered and loyalist reinforcements might be incoming, all because of petty ass Typhus, hero of the imperium.
In this Excerpt Keeler who is now pretty clearly the founding saint of the ecclesiarch, is bringing the new found power of her faithful to bear on the traitors on Terra, outlining how to butcher the traitors with the power of her fanatics. Also it finally gives us an explanation for the constant skull motif in imperial design which is unexpected, but just another amazing part of this amazing book.
>It all came down to numbers, Keeler discovered. Nothing fancy, just some simple arithmetic. Two platoons of well-equipped Imperial Army troops, plus some heavy fire support- that stood a chance, in favorable conditions, of knocking out a single traitor marine. If you sent in the irregulars, the ones who were armed with power tools and had no proper armor, you were looking at over two hundred of them. In those circumstances, the kills were a matter of smothering, sending bodies en mass against a single target. All it took was one pair of turbo-pliers, right up inder the helm seal to finish the job- all the rest were there to soak up the creatures rage to weigh its limbs down, to bury it under a tide of dead. All of them, all her faithful, they went intobattle with a skull clutched tight. Some had them hanging around their necks, others carried them on poles, some used them like morningstars, swinging iron studded bone on the end of long chains. They had no other insignia now the Aquila was never seen among them. This was the icon of the creed the symbol they marched under...
>
>They lost every battle they fought, were forcced back every time, but that wasnt a problem, because they extracted a little something each time. To lose was glorious, if it meant just one more enemy of emperor was taken out. And the supply of recruits never dried up. There were hundred of thousands of refugees everywhere shuffling down the remains of the old processionals desperate for somewhere to linger for a moment . They werent fools they knew the sanctum couldn't hold them all. The only thing left was to find a decent path to the next life, one better than dying alone and in misery. So they would listen to thee sermons, then find a skull from the plentiful supplies on the open battlefield, polish it, take it up. And then its empty eyes would be trained on the oncoming enemy, in their tens of thousands, silent witnesses to the apocalypse. "This is the strength of us" Keller said "our numbers . WIlling to endure any suffering, asking no questions, resting only one truth- t
It's Nov 12, so according to the message I got from the mods it should be ok to post excerpts now.
Context: Sigismund has decided that he simply doesn't give a fuck anymore. It's Killing Traitors Time, and nothing else matters. He is the Emperor's Champion, herald of the Imperium As It Will Become. During his rampage he runs into Kharn. The first part of the fight is told from Siggy's perspective.
And then we get to see what Kharn sees, see the truest horror the Heresy has unleashed.
>He never said a word. Never. Throughout it all, the Black Sword didn't say a thing.
>
>The monster. The ghost. The mere shell.
>
>What could be worse than this? What death could be as profound as this? What disappointment, what despair, could ever be greater?
>
>Khârn raged at it. He howled in fury, coming at him again and again, shrugging off the wounds. He wanted the old one back. The one with some fire in his veins. He wanted some spirit. Just a flicker of something – anything – other than this flint-edged, iron-deep hardness.
>
>They had laughed together, the two of them. They had fought in the roaring pits, and had sliced slabs out of one another, and at the end they had always slumped down in the straw and the blood and laughed. Even the Nails had not taken that away, for in combat the Nails had still always shown the truth of things.
>
>'Be… angry!' he bellowed, thundering in close. 'Be… alive!'
>
>Because you could only kill the things that lived. You couldn't kill a ghost, only swipe your axe straight through it. There was nothing here, just frustration, just the madness of going up against a wall, again and again.
>
>The Nails spiked at him. He fought harder. He fought faster. His muscles ripped apart, and were instantly reknitted. His blood vessels burst, and were restored. He felt heat surge through his body, hotter and whiter than any heat he had ever endured.
>
>The Black Sword resisted it all, silently, implacably, infuriatingly. It was like fighting the end of the universe. Nothing could shake the faith before him. It was blind to everything but itself, as selfish as a jewel-thief in a hoard.
>
>*His chainaxe whirred as wildly as he'd ever thrown it, igniting the promethium vapour in the air, sending the blood lashing out like whipcord. He scored hits with it. He wounded the ghost. He made him stagger, made him gasp. The heat roared within him, tu
Context: Jaghatai is fighting Mortarion and it's not going well, due to the latter being a daemonic sellout these days. In order to have a chance, Jaghatai must get Mortarion to become careless. Commence the taunting.
>And through it all, he kept talking. He kept up the torrent of petty jibes and slights. Even when Mortarion rained blows at his dented helm, smacked him deep into the broken-up rockcrete, the barbs kept on coming, sometimes acid, sometimes brutal, sometimes merely juvenile.
>
>‘Just take the damned mask off. I want to see your expression when I kill you.’
>
>‘Your stench is worse than at Ullanor. And it was putrefying then.’
>
>And the one that cut deep, for all its obviousness.
>
>‘I should have taken on the Legion Master. I should have fought Typhon.’
But that's not enough, there's no opening.
So Jaghatai reaches for the ultimate burn, something guaranteed to leave Mortarion open as he lashes out in REEEEEEE-ish rage.
>Panting hard, feeling like his heart was fit to burst, Mortarion finally ceased the barrage. The first ache of exhaustion rippled up his arms, his vision shivered a little. Still something mortal in him then, after all, something that could know fatigue. He got up painfully.
>
>Jaghatai still breathed. Somehow, amid the swamp of gore that had once been a proud visage, the air was still being sucked in, bubbling feebly amid floating flecks of bone.
>
>Mortarion limped over to his scythe, hauling it up again, making ready to end the grotesque spectacle.
>
>'I thought you'd dance,'*** he said again, genuinely mystified. 'You just… took it. Did you lose your mind?'
>
>Jaghatai started to cough, sending more bloody spurts out over the ripped-apart ground. His shattered gauntlet still clutched the hilt of his blade, but the arm must have been broken in many places. Only slowly, as he trudged back, did Mortarion realise that the sound was bitter laughter.
>
>'I… absorbed,' Jaghatai rasped, 'the… pain.'
>
>Mortarion halted. 'What do you mean?'
>
>'I… know,' Jaghatai said, his voice a liquid slur. 'The Terminus Est. You… gave up. I… did not.' And then he grinned – his split lips, his flayed cheeks, his lone seeing eye, twisting into genuine, spiteful pleasure. 'My endurance is… superior.'*
>
>*So that was what they all believed. Not that he had done what ne
I know this is an opinion and a lot of people will disagree, and honestly, that's total cool with me. However, I have now listened to the Warhawk audiobook for the 3rd time and the book is absolutely fantastic. The way Wraight gets into the heads of each character and fleshes out the story from a very personal perspective is so deeply good to me. I love the way he lets you get to see characters moviations, thoughts, feelings, and struggles. Wraight has always been an author I've enjoyed but I feel he found the recipe to the special sauce on this one. I really hope he keeps this up. Final, and minor spoilers on this one, I absolutely love the way he makes Sigismund into an absolute unfeeling, uncaring monster in this book. He's becomes the embodiment of death to the point that he almost becomes a parody of Dorn's ideal. In my opinion he finally stops being the wayward son of Dorn he's been for a while and becomes the Black Templar.
I just like this scene because it really delves into things with two rather...erm, controversial characters in the lore. Plus, seeing Erebus get verbally smacked down is always satisfying. Especially from someone who has known and been a companion of the Emperor as long as Erda has, and all of the things she's done and seen and her own insights.
Context: Erebus visits Erda's home to tell her he and his bosses are huge fans of hers, and offers her a job. She tells him how she feels.
Erebus is the First Chaplain of the Word Bearers and an asshole.
Erda is a Perpetual who is the genetic mother of the Primarchs, as it was her genetic material combined with the Emperor's that made them.
> And she was laughing, too. It wasn’t a laugh of pleasure, but of scorn and disbelief.
>Erebus endured it. He was used to being scorned and disbelieved.
>‘So what do you say?’ he offered.
>‘What do I say?’ She shook her head. ‘What could I possibly say? You have ambition, I will give you that, but little else.’
...
>‘I had my disagreements with Him,’ she said at last. ‘Somehow you discovered those, but they were hardly kept secret. We differed, and we still do.’ She looked up at Erebus. ‘But I always knew that He worked for the good of the species. He might have been wrong, perhaps, and arrogant, and infuriating, but the threat was real. We had all lived through it. Your masters, however – or, what you take to be your masters – they are the end. They are the closure of the story. I marvel that you could believe I would ever be tempted to serve them.’
>‘Because you already have.’
>‘I acted to prevent an escalation – something terribly wrong, a twisting of what our ascension was supposed to be. I never acted to aid your cause.’
>‘What you meant matters little.’ Erebus watched her carefully as he spoke. ‘It is deeds that resonate. You paved the way for everything that followed.’
>‘No.’ She turned back towards him. ‘No, all choices were still to be made. He could have abandoned the project – that is what I thought He would do, but I underestimated His pig-headedness. Or He could have killed His creations, once I had shown Him how dangerous they were, but something in Him must still have had affection for them, even then. And your primarchs, all of them, they were still free to choose. If they had not been dragged back into this awful Crusade, pressed into action on His behalf like sullen children, what choices might they have mad
... keep reading on reddit ➡The Great Khan has fallen taking with him the Lord of Decay, Mortarian
Through the Lion's Gate Space Port, the sons of Jaghatai feel his loss as a hammer blow to their hearts, whilst the Death Guard suddenly feel the true nature of their bargain with Grandpa Nurgle.
The below was an experience on audiobook. It shows what it means for a legion to lose their father. What it means for even the most wild of legions to lose their leader, their father; their Khan.
>He heard cries ring out across the battlefield, unlocked howls of disbelief and horror, and dimly realised that every White Scar across every rotten chamber and miasmatic cavern was experiencing what he was experiencing. A warrior of the Legions was not just an inducted soldier, given the Emperor's coin and handed a bolter. He was connected through warp-craft and gene-tech to his primogenitor, indelibly linked both temperamentally and psychically to the archetype. The bond was more than loyalty, more than filial duty. It was everything.
>
>He wanted to vomit. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw his head back and empty that unbearable grief out up at the shrouded stars.
>
>But he was also a khan of the ordu, the one the others looked to, the carrier of the flame.
>
>You are Tachseer.
>
>You are the Restorer.
>
>It could not go on. He could not indulge himself. He forced himself to stand again, shakily, and opened his eyes, and it was as if the night around him had become as black as bloody pitch, more hateful than before, emptier and colder.
>
>He took up his blade again, ramming it firmly aloft, just as he had done when the Khagan had breached the first wall, when his ecstasy had been as profound as his loss was now.
>
>'Damarg!' he roared.
>
>That word had only one meaning in Khorchin. It only had one sacred use. Death. Not the death of old age or sickness, but the death of the fighter, slain in battle against an enemy; the death that had to be avenged lest destruction overcome all things. That grief-curse had been heard on the grasslands of Chogoris since the time before memory, a paean of defiance and honour and fealty, one that every sword-bearer knew and understood and venerated. They had cried it aloud when Giyahun had died, when Qin Xa had died, when Yesugei had died, and now they cried it for the greatest of them all.
>
>'Damarg!' Shiban thundered again, his powerful voice hurling the
Like it says in the title, in Warhawk we finally get large doses of Sigismund kicking ass and being awesome during the siege so here's a somewhat all-inclusive list of many of the moments of him being awesome we get. I'm sure some of these parts have probably already been posted but I just wanted to make a big post with all of Sigi's awesomeness. I've included which chapters each part is from to give an easier idea of how far in the book each one is and make it easier for you to find those parts if you wanted too.
Sorry in advance for the wall of text
Chapter Three - The leash comes off
So he searched, as Rogal Dorn always did, for something to do, some way to fight back. The klaxons were going off around him, wild and loud. Men and women were running, their discipline failing. They were trying to shut down the plasma reserves in the foundation interiors, drain them, prevent the penetration cascades that would critically weaken the Mercury Wall’s substructure. Even as they ran, shouting, tripping over one another, the Titans were there – unwrapping their drills and energy-hammers, powering up forbidden drive-weapons augmented with daemon-essences, clawing, scraping down the outer skin like rats.
‘My lord!’
And then, hearing that voice, he remembered. He had already acted. Typical Rogal Dorn, anticipating his own momentary weakness, he had already put the necessary move in place. He had summoned Sigismund here, to Shard Bastion, to speak to him in person, to give him the command, because he could never falter in front of his son, not this son. He turned, just for a moment, away from the confusion of the command station, and faced him. Sigismund wore the black of the Templar Brethren. He had come up to the command level with others of his order, a dozen, and they all looked as grim as one another – fatalistic, hammered into a kind of permanent, shell-shocked fury.
Sigismund’s own expression was wary. He had reason for that – Dorn had run him hard, borne down on him, bathed him in disapproval, ever since Isstvan. The reasons had been sound. Neither of them could have expected any less, given the codes of honour that made them who they were, and Sigismund had never complained. But there had always been something else, under all that – not quite a test, but maybe a tempering, like that of the best blades. To see if the steel could withstand the fire, be more hard-wearing for it.
‘This is the e
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An Imperial Army tank commander has opinions about the Leman Russ battle tank. It's very interesting to see how much hate there is for this vehicle. I thought tankers tended to love their machines, not despise them as death traps.
>And of all the possible tanks to be stuck in, a Leman Russ was probably the worst. People spoke of it as the Pride of the Imperium, the greatest battle tank in human history, the mainstay of the Great Crusade. Was it shit. A Leman Russ was a rolling deathtrap. Its tall profile was so notoriously awful that no commander ever wanted to be squadron leader – the only thing big enough to shield a Leman Russ during operations was another Leman Russ, so better to keep the command unit ahead of you for as long as you could. Its fragile tracks were exposed and its armour was a mess of easy-to-hit vertical planes. The standard pattern sponson-bulges just presented another flat edge to destroy, another reason to be glad not to have them. The interior was noisy and prone to bursting into flames whenever a loader coughed too loudly. And, if you were truly unlucky enough to have those sponsons, there was only one escape hatch, right at the top of the main turret, and so the chances of getting out alive in case of all-too-likely disaster were practically zero.
>No, whoever had designed the Leman Russ – Kaska had always assumed it wasn’t actually the primarch of the VI – was a moron. Or a sadist. Or both. The only things it had going for it were cheapness, mechanical reliability and a certain rugged survivability in numbers. The design was so brutally simple that the Imperium was able to churn them out by the million. It mattered less that each individual unit was a study in self-harm when you could overwhelm a battlefield with hundreds of them. And a front-mounted lascannon at least could keep firing as long as its power packs held a charge, which made running out of shells somewhat less of a disaster.
>Still, all in all, the crews had few illusions about the tanks they rode into war. Deathboxes, they were called, and homewreckers, and other, earthier, names too. Infantry troopers would occasionally look askance at them, jealous of all that thick armour they had around them, but a Leman Russ tanker knew how fragile it all was really, and how going out to a las-blast was far preferable to being burned alive or buried under a wall of mud or suffocated by trapped engine smoke.
People complain a lot on this sub about BL/Games Workshop retconing certain elements of the lore, but I wanted to showcase a recent soft retcon example from Warhawk. Naturally, spoilers for Warhawk abound ahead. We're going to compare how McNeil originally wrote Mortarion murdering his honor guard in Vengeful Spirit to a look back on the same scene in Warhawk (kinda).
Quick context tl;dr: Mortarion is back in the apothecarion on Endurance after getting the shit kicked out of him by an Iron Hands strike team. While he's convalescing, he bumps into the spirit/daemon (?) of Ignatius Grulgor, one of his old commanders. Burcu is the poor apothecary he recruits to open up the genevault so he can have a look at whatever's there:
>"Mortarion had spent a lifetime on a world where the monstrous creations of rogue geneticists and spirit channelling corpse-whisperers had haunted the fogbound crags of Barbarus. Where monsters truly worthy of the name were wrought into being every day. Had even fashioned a few of his own.
>Mortarion knew the spoor of such beasts, but more than that, he recognised the scent of one of his own.
>‘You see, my lord,’ said Apothecary Burcu. ‘It’s plain to see there’s nothing here, so can we all please vacate the gene-labs?’
>‘You’re wrong,’ said Mortarion.
>‘My lord?’ said Burcu, consulting a grainy holo floating above his narthecium gauntlet. ‘I don’t understand.’
>‘He’s here, he just can’t show himself yet, can you?’
>The primarch’s words were addressed to the air, but the voice that answered sounded like rocks grinding against one another in a mudslide and seemed to echo from all around them.
>Meat. Need meat.
>Mortarion nodded, already suspecting that was why he had chosen this place. The Deathshroud formed a circle around Mortarion, warscythes at the ready, sensorium desperately searching for the source of the voice.
>‘My lord, what is that?’ asked Burcu.
>‘An old friend,’ said Mortarion. ‘One I thought lost.’
>No one ever thought of the Death Lord as being quick. Relentless, yes. Implacable and dogged, absolutely. But quick? No, never that.
>Silence was a hard iron blur, and by the time its blade completed its circuit, all seven of the Deathshroud lay slain, simply bisected at their midriffs. An apocalyptic quantity of gore erupted within the vault, a glut of shimmering, impossibly bright blood. It sprayed the walls and flooded the polished steel deck plates in a red ti
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Thinking about getting into Warhammer 40k, more specifically the Harakoni's as I while I like the Cadian Armor, I want some uniqueness and I like the heavy armor look of them. I've found some great helmets and backpacks from MadRobotMiniatures that I'll use, but I'm unsure of what legs to use.
Mad Robot Miniatures has some legs that are clearly meant for the Harakonis, which while looking good, are only available in standing poses, whereas I would like some to be kneeling as well.
https://madrobotminiatures.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=9_21&products_id=435
I've found similar looking legs from Anvil Industries as well which have multiple poses available.
https://www.anvilindustry.co.uk/armoured-legs-advancing
Any help on which one I should go for would be appreciated.
>! Anybody else ok with Kharn being killed by his best friend? !<
This was an incredible book, such a contrast to Mortis where I had to slog through it, whereas this one I had trouble putting it down.
For all it's great victories, one thing it does so very well is show the tipping point from the horrific Imperium of the 30k era, to the absolute nightmare realm of the 40k era, with its depiction of Sigismund and Keeler and the horrifying fanaticism they've fostered. And as I finished this book, I read the afterword and saw that this feeling of wrongness was exactly what Wraight was going for:
" So it is that we get to the purity of 40K’s endless war, in which both sides are equally nihilistic, and we see the terrible bargain that humanity is forced to make – you can survive, in a fashion, but only if you pledge allegiance to one of two horrific powers: the gods of the warp, or the corpse on the Throne. No alternative, no escape, no happy ending. "
Chris Wraight keeps churning out pure gold on a level I've never experienced from another BL author
I have some questions about Erda in Warhawk?
- She is mentioned to be '>!tripartite!<' - what does this mean?
- >!In Saturnine she is stated to be one of the most powerful perpetuals - but in Warhawk she is almost defeated by four greater daemons, did anyone else expect her to be more powerful?!<
Hello!
If you're unsure on how to play Warhawk as of today, please read on.
The official Warhawk servers are no longer online. There are two methods to play the game:
A group of fans has created https://www.psone.online/game/warhawk to help you play online. Please see there for documentation on how to play: https://www.psone.online/getting-started In short, it's as easy as setting their custom DNS on the Playstation 3 system and PM'ing the mods your username on the Discord linked below.
Please note that r/warhawk has nothing to do with this Discord. r/warhawk will also not allow guides on how to cheat using this system.
https://www.psone.online/discord
Another method is to use Xlink Kai. Xlink Kai sets up the network to appear to be a local connection, where the servers will be available on LAN. See this guide for more information.
Someone recently has told me that they don't think they do these awards anymore? I am planning on enlisting in the air force sometime within the upcoming months and would like to know. Thanks
So, I recently finished Warhawk, and I have a bittersweet joy thinking about how Siege will soon end, unveiling through narration some powerful moments.
That being said, I wonder about what role the Lion's Gate Spaceport will play. It has been taken back by the Vth ; now what ? Even without accounting for the Nurgle corruption, Horus can still launch airstrike to the awaken Scars, harassing them day and night. No doubt ground forces will also try to enter the spaceport, and I assume lot of demons are around.
Is the spaceport under it's own siege ? Will the Scars try to defend it until Guilliman arrives ?
A big criticism i and I feel a lot of people had for godblight was the fact Mortarion seemed to have gone from the interesting and nuanced character in the HH to a mustach twirling villain caricature of himself obsessed with over the top evil schemes and creating a super potion to finally defeat those damn meddling ultramarines.The question was what could have happened between the heresy and indomitus that could have caused this change, and now we know, he got his frickin head chopped off. Full on explosion of light primarch-commited, primarch death.
Now we know he gets better eventually, but thats not something that you should be able to walk away from unscathed, and its not a stretch to assume that a large part of the mortal Mort soul (whatever still remained) with its humanity and nuance, died with his original body on that platform. What ever came back as we see in godblight is much more demon than primarch, which tracks with the mustache twirling as demons are incurable dramatic bitches 24/7.
It also explains why nurgle seems to have so much more power over mort than the other demon primarchs and their patrons, as Morts continued existence is much more dependent on his God than his brothers.
Context: Sigismund has been unleashed by Dorn. Forgiven for his mistakes, and now unburdened, he is told to do what he was made to do: Hurt the enemy.
Armed with a new purpose, and gifted with a new sword by order of the Emperor himself, Sigismund has been ordered to rally the reserves and the defences for as long as possible.
A rumour spills out between both sides of a single being offering the only true resistance: The Black Sword. Forces from both sides flock towards where he is fighting to both support or to slay, as where ever the Black Sword is, traitor champions fall.
Archeta is Captain of the 3rd Company of the Sons of Horus. He has driven his forces towards where the Black Sword is fighting.
>For all its ferocity, the defenders were too thin-spread now, unable to sustain this pitch of combat for long enough, out-gunned and out-equipped. Archeta and his honour guard fought their way up to the terminus approaches, the secondary squads not far behind. His static-fuzzed tactical display showed hundreds more of his troops racing into position, filtering up through the buildings around, flushing out the last resistance as they came.
>
>He reached the foot of metal stairs leading up to what had been the terminus command tower, flanked on either side by heavy rockcrete piers. The terrain around him was cluttered with machine parts - axles, wheels, tank tracks - all piled up like some conqueror's heap of skulls. Infernal winds raced overhead, blowing the dust into ever taller pillars, the howl of it masking the ongoing clamour of combat.
>
>But then, just before it happened, he realised what he had done. He got the warning tingle, like an electric field across his back - the old ganger instincts that had been with him long before his ascension. Before he could call out a warning, the heaps of machine parts were thrust aside and sent sailing down the slope, bounding and thudding. Dozens of loyalists erupted from underneath them. Some were Blood Angels by their pauldron marks, some were Imperial Fists, but the grime had made them all as black as soot, set into stark relief by the flares of their disruptors.
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>Then the fighting really started. Archeta needed to give no orders - his vanguard hurled themselves at the enemy, pivoting instantly to take them on. Those corning on behind redoubled their efforts to reach the terminus, knowing that this was now in the balance.
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>He despatched the first enemy to reach
I remember seeing a post with warhawk spinning up around a year ago. In the comments, warhawk team stated how it was a new robot. Is warhawk coming back in season 7?
