|Battle Cry||"Forward! They can only kill us!!"|
|Specialty||Armored Warfare, Heavy Weapons|
|Allegiance||Fallen Imperium of Man|
East of Terra there are two worlds. The first, Morgoth, is a world of sprawling cities, rotten hives rife with crime. The second, Avalon, is a death world where the only refuge from the vicous megafauna of the Continent are the islands surrounding it. These two worlds are different in every way save their deadliness, which is why it is strange they are so connected in an alliance of heritage, a union maintained only by either reason or stubbornness, whether that be on part of a legion, a Primarch, or both.
They are the Hekatonkires of Morgoth, a host of supermen with an affinity for armored warfare. Their Primarch is Samson of Avalon, though he does not lead them. He is not a general first, but rather a hunter and a gentleman, and leads his own order of fellow hunters against the beasts of Chaos. They are total opposites, but their distinct traits complement each other, and together make a deadly team.
Numeration: The XV Legion
Primogenitor: Samson Hawthorne II
Cognomen (Prior): None
Observed Strategic Tendencies: Armoured Assault, heavy weapons
Noteworthy Domains: Morgoth, Avalon
History of the Legion
Samson's Early Years
In a streak of light the infant primarch came to Avalon, a deathworld of beasts and vicious flora, landing on the planet's sole continent. His pod had laid many days in the jungles of the Continent, protected from hungry fiends only by the magical wards that still remained on the pod, until a hunting party happened upon the child and nursed him to health. Even with an infant, the hunters continued their expedition, delving deeper into the jungles to find more exotic game that humanity had yet to see. They did find such a creature, but it was more than a match for the haughty hunters. During the nights in the darkest parts of the rainforest, a beast with six legs and two mouths stalked the party, picking them off one by one until only three hunters remained. Before going for the last three, the animal first thought to make a meal of the small child accompanying them. It slipped past the hunters in the dead of night, and snuck up to the child as he slept. But then, before it could snatch the him, the baby opened his eyes and saw the gnarled teeth of death. He let out a deafening scream too loud for an infant, he tossed and turned and flailed his arms in fear, hitting the predator with a force not possible for a babe of his size. Scared and bruised, with three hunters alerted to its presence, the beast fled back into the jungle's darkness, leaving the party alone for their flight back to the islands which lied beyond the reach of the Continent's terrors.
After returning to the Islands the party leader, Master John Hawthorne, adopted the child and named him Samson, after Master Hawthorne's uncle. He and his wife Alisa tutored Samson, taught him the proper manners for a man of his status, made him a proper member of society. When he was old enough, Samson joined his father in his hunts on the Continent. Having grown at an alarming rate and gaining great strength and reflexes with age, Samson became an amazing hunter. Not only did he snipe beasts with the massive rifle only he could hold, but he also wrestled them and smashed them with his bare hands. He quickly became known as the greatest hunter on Avalon, and he attained celebrity status across the Islands. Every time he came back from the continent with more and more fantastic creatures he held a party in his manor, attended by all sorts of highly-regarded and well-dressed folks, and catered with the finest cuisine and beverages. He always had a story to tell, of how he went even further on the continent than anyone ever has and singlehandedly brought down new creatures no man had seen before.
It was during a warm summer's evening party that an uninvited guest came to Samson's mansion. He was an abrasive thorn, who wouldn't leave when asked and was too strong for the guards to remove. He spoke ill of people's relatives, blasphemed, and flirted with the women bother available or otherwise; but despite the stranger's rudeness Samson did not lay a hand on him, instead calmly insisting that he leave. Samson was able to maintain his composure, up until the stranger slapped him across the face by insulting his mother. Samson challenged the stranger to a duel, and the two stepped outside for a test of honor. His finest dueling pistols were presented, and the two took positions. The bell rang, they turned, they fired, and they both took a bullet without flinching. His honor tested and his opponent still standing, Samson put aside any slights while the stranger turned pleasant. They rejoined the party, and discussed at length topics such as religion, government, and justice. Long after the party died the two talked, their conversation dragging into the next morning. Then, at dawn, the stranger gave Samson an astonishing revelation. In a burst of light he changed from a finely-dressed man with short hair to a warrior clad in gold. He revealed the scope of the universe to Samson, explained the goings-on of the galaxy, of what mankind had accomplished, and who Samson truly was. The stranger was the Emperor, and Samson was his creation, born to lead his superhuman warriors in the unification of humanity.
The Primarch's Return
Other primarchs, when given their respective charges, shaped their legions to their beliefs and took them as their own. However, late was the year which Samson was found, and so the fifteenth legion had lost faith in the chance that their primarch would be discovered. They had taken root on the world of Morgoth and infused the culture of the underhive with the Chthonic beliefs and teachings they adopted during the early stages of the Great Crusade. The mindset of the Hekatonkires, a mix of the residual mannerisms of former gangers and the teachings of Briareos and Gyges, clashed with Samson's views on integrity and spirituality. Whereas Samson was a gentleman who believed in a rigid personal code of conduct and the power of God, his marines were brutish, vengeful, and bound in brotherhood by their death cult. To Samson, the Hekatonkires were repulsive barbarians who liked loud engines and hated authority. They could not be any more different from their primarch.
Initially Samson saw no worth in this legion and wished to serve the Imperium in his own way. But the Imperium and the Hekatonkires did not need a hunter, they needed a leader. The previous legion masters Briareos and Giges needed to teach Samson not only how to lead the Hekatonkires, but also how to understand
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