Sarco Funerus

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Sarco Funerus
Sarco.jpg
Discovered (world)

Amaranth

Discovered (period)

M30

Legion

Eighteenth

Heraldry/Sigil

100px

This page is a work in progress, part of the Imperium Asunder project, a fan remake of the warhammer 40,000 history.

We are the sons of the Imperium. It is our duty to uphold the tenets of our Emperor's truth wherever we go, to act as an example to all imperial citizens. We will show our brother legions what it means to serve mankind, to beat back the terrors of Old Night, to claim the galaxy for humanity. We are the Imperial Scions and we will never die.

-Sarco Funerus, upon his reawakening on the eve of the council of Nikaea

History[edit]

Youth[edit]

Sarco's pod crash landed on Amaranth, a deathworld of dense jungles and dangerous beasts. Amaranth's population had regressed to a feral state, having lost even the most basic facets of technology. The disparate tribes of the deathworld were scattered across its surface, cut off from one another by the press of the jungle and the territories of Amaranth's immense superpredators - panthers that could crush a man flat under their paws, man-sized spiders, ravenous bloodwasps and more. Life on Amaranth was short, prone to ending quickly and violently, and its people coped with their abject, primitive state through an enduring shamanistic belief in the immortality of the soul. The life after death was the blossoming of a creature's existence in Amaranthine tradition - the planet's tribes believed that the world around them was suffused with the spirits of their dead. Putting great stock in the wisdom of their ancestors and the protection of those long passed into the life after, they prayed to shrine-stones and sacred trees, burying their death beneath their shadows and believing these sites to be conduits into the realms of the dead.

When Sarco was first found by humans, it had already been an undetermined amount of years since his arrival. He lived alone, hunting the very predators that plagued Amaranth's people. He wore the pelts of several Megapanthers, ferocious creatures that plagued the humans of Amaranth to no end, and stood at a stature no man of Amaranth could match. For a time, Sarco was a being of folklore and myth - the Wild Walker of the deep jungle, a myth spoken of in hushed tones by the tribesmen of Amaranth. It was not long before Funerus became more than this to these people. Where he trod, the predators of Amaranth cowered, and those who faced him were struck down and torn asunder. The Wild Walker became a figure not simply of myth, but of reverence and respect - whether the tribes saw him as a feral deity, or a long-dead ancestor returned in their defense, or the embodiment of their honoured dead, Sarco represented safety. Though it would be some time before he came to live among them, the tribes of Amaranth gathered about him like moths to a flame, each of them seeking to bask in the protection afforded by his presence.

In time, he led his people to prosperity as warrior-king of Amaranth and established his capital high in the Jorgal Mountains, where there were no predators. When the Emperor came to Amaranth to find his lost son, Sarco knew his father immediately and greeted him with open arms.

The Great Crusade[edit]

During the Great Crusade, Sarco proved to be a decent commander, though he was more interested in gaining personal glory by challenging the strongest opponents on the field of battle. Sarco repeatedly placed his men in jeopardy by ignoring the greater battle and hunting for ever greater enemies to add to his tally. This came to a head when the Imperial Scions engaged the Eldar craftworld Mor-rioh'i on the plains of Malphas, where Sarco challenged a phantom titan to single combat.

The Warmaster's Heresy[edit]

Personality[edit]

Appearance[edit]

Wargear[edit]

Rules[edit]

Writefaggotry[edit]

Sarco did not know where he was. It was cold, and dark. Silence surrounded him, except for the telltale hum of a gellar field. The last thing he remembered... an Eldar titan, swinging at him with its massive sword. He had stayed to fight it so Engerand would have time to plant the explosives and destroy the alien shrine. Had he died? Was this crushing darkness what awaited the living when they passed beyond the veil?

+++Subject awakening+++ +++Administering stimulants+++

Green text appeared in Sarco’s vision and he recognized that it was similar to the tactical feed featured in his sons’ helmets. The primarch was jolted awake and only then realized that he had previously been half asleep. What was going on? His mind was still fuzzy from his slumber. Whatever stimulants were being used on him, they did not seem to be working as he felt himself drift back to a comatose state. He would have been content staying that way for a while, but a golden figure appeared in his mind’s eye. It spoke to him.

“My son.”

“Father?”

“My son, you must awaken. You are needed urgently.”

Sarco’s mind was still too groggy to fully comprehend what was going on, but he knew he must heed his father. He dragged himself from rest and once he was sure that he was fully awake, the tactical feed appeared once more.

+++Subject awakened+++ +++Performing system diagnostics… … … +++Diagnostics complete+++ +++Gravity cannon: fully armed+++ +++Power claw: fully armed+++ +++Plasma generator output: 100%+++ +++Armor integrity: 100%+++

The tactical feed disappeared and, for a few moments, Sarco’s vision was filled with green symbols streaming past. He cursed himself for not learning binary when he had the chance. Suddenly, the data disappeared and Sarco was given sight again. He had a grainy view of a dark room. On the opposite wall were several monitors displaying vital signs. Sarco’s own, he realized. Standing before him was a golden figure, highly visible despite the gloom of the chamber around him.

“Father.”

Something was wrong. Sarco heard himself speak, but his words came but a fraction of a second after he spoke them. His voice sounded mechanical, and was louder than it should have been.

“What has happened to me?” Sarco asked. He could not move.

“My son,” responded the Master of Mankind, “The injuries you sustained fighting the Eldar phantom were dire.” His tone was grim, almost scolding. “You almost did not survive. I did my best to save you, but there are some things that even I cannot do.”

“Father, what do you mean to say?” Though he would never show it, Sarco was worried.

“You have been placed inside a dreadnought chassis of my own design. You will survive your injuries, but you will never be able to leave it.”

Sarco was in shock. He would never again feel the wind in his hair, or feel the thrill as he impaled a xeno warrior with his power spear. He would never again be able to scale a burned-out building to gain a vantage point for the battle raging below.

“What of my legion? What of my sons?” Was his next thought.

“It took you five years to become well enough for me to put you in the sarcophagus. In the meantime your legion campaigned with me.” Five years!? What had happened in the galaxy in that time? “We brought a hundred systems into the Imperium’s fold.”

“And what of my brothers?” Sarco asked.

“There has been no lack of strife among your brothers while you were recovering. Oramar has been accused of tampering with xenotech. He has been called to stand trial at an uninhabited world called Nikaea. We are on our way there now.”

If any of his brothers were tampering with alien technologies, it would be Oramar. The primarch of the XII legion was an odd one for certain. Before Sarco could continue musing on the possibilities of Oramar’s behavior, a harness that he had not noticed before was released from his chassis.

“The council is in five days. We will arrive on Nikaea in two. Come, Sarco, I must show you how to use your new faculties to their full extent."

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