Marcas Den Cheàrdach

Armorial of the Steel Confessors Chapter.

**Marcas Den Cheàrdach** is a primaris techmarine Adeptus Astartes captain belonging to the Steel Confessors chapter that was founded during a secret undisclosed founding by the Adeptus Mechanicus. However, fifty years ago Marcas travelled to Watch Fortress Erioch. Upon being seconded to Chamber Militant of the Ordo Xenos, the ancient Deathwatch, Marcus started his Long Watch.

It is a strange occurrence for a techmarine to serve a Vigil in the Long Watch due to their vital importance to their chapter and their limited numbers across the imperium. Although this may be the case, Marcas made the decision to stand a vigil due to the fact he wished to learn all he could about the strange xenos technology that existed in the galaxy. With this knowledge he hopped to return to his chapter and be of further use to them if and when they found this technology on their crusade.

## History

Marcas was born in the depth of a powerful forge world by the name of Tímin. Upon the day of his birth the young boy was taken by the tech-priests and ran through a monumental series of tests and examinations. By the end the report was pages long and informed anyone who read it that Marcas was to grow into a man of staggering strength and great mental capacity.

It was due to this that from the moment Marcas was able to walk he was put to work. He was sent down into the foundries to begin his work as a manual labourer. Where the servitors lifted and moved most of what needed moving Marcas was tasked to handle the items that needed a more human touch. He worked tirelessly and admirably for many years until, at the age of eight, the boy had been put to work swinging hammers and bending titanic sheets of metal. Moreover, as he grew older Marcas entered into tutelage under the tech-priests of Tímin. He was taught how to ritualistically commune with the machine spirits, how to read the Adeptus Mechanicus tomes and even how to create and maintain the weapons and vehicles of the Imperium.

Marcas' life was good. It was a tough and hard life but the young boy enjoyed it as much as he could. That was until he was eleven years of age. At this point the young lad had grown bands of dense low profile muscle, and stood a few inches taller than any of his friends. However, it was also at this point that Tímin experienced a detrimental revolution in the lower classes. The had of course experienced its share of minor revolts in the past but this was like no other. The rebels fought with a drive that no one could have seen coming. It was even whispered that the flame of revolution had been ignited by a message from the heavens, but to this day that has never been proven.

As the revolution started to reach its apex the tech-priests continued about their work. Maras was working in the forge along side them, aiding a tech-priest in the creation of a new project. As was always the case the noise in the room was cacophonous, but it was no worse than any other standard day. That was until the door shook with an almighty bang that caused those within the room to jump in surprise and, for some, in fear. Instantly, with machine like logic, the tech-priest connected to the security cameras outside the room, the same cameras that watched the door. Turning to the young boy the priest chittered out a warning about what was about to happen, the rebels were about to breach the door. As they did the mass of mechadendrite that surrounded the priest bristled and tensed, preparing for the oncoming battle. Weapon systems whirred to life and servo skulls took to the sky. The young Marcas picked up a large sledge hammer, settling its significant weight into his calloused palm. Once again the door shook in its frame as the priest, the child and the veritable swarm of servitors prepared for what was to come. If the rebels wanted to take the forge they were not going to have an easy time.

Suddenly the door exploded in as the rebels surged into it as one mighty group. Before the dust had even settled they had started to move into the room. However, as they moved the tech-priest opened fire with a number of pin point accurate shots. He would have talked to them, but if they had made it this far into the forge without stopping they were not going to listen to reason. However, this story is not about some tech-priest, it is about a young boy, a young boy with a hammer who dropped his chin and charged towards the rebels. Marcas met the first head on as he twisted his body. The twist, along with the boy's forward momentum, shot the hammer up and into the chin of the rebel. A sickening crunch filled the air as the jaw separated from the man's skull, tearing free of the tendons that held it in place. Kicking the gurgling rebel away Marcas barrelled into the next.

For almost fifteen minutes the two forces clashed. Shots were fired, bones shattered, rebels knocked unconscious. The fight was brutal, bloody and undeniably vicious. Marcas was splattered with blood, the rebels and his own. There were bodies lining floor and weapons still being swung. However, suddenly a sound boomed out, a mighty roar followed by a bone shaking boom, both in rapid succession, two sounds that caused every one of the fighters to freeze in place. The fight had of course been loud but these booming explosions were almost like a sound from God, it was a sound that froze even the strongest guardsmen to their soul. Slowly the fighters turned their eyes to the broken doorway, as the ringing in their ears slowly trailed off. There stood in the broken ruins of the door, framed against Tímin's light, was an angel. A towering armoured warrior of grey and bone white. In one titanic hand the being clutched a bolter pistol...the barrel of which was still smoking from the shot it had just fired.

"Stop this foolishness. You shall not fight in my presence." A voice that would cause men to freeze in fear echoed out from within the helmet. "Priest. Be gone and you...child come with me." The being dismissed the priest with a wave of his hand and gestured to the young Marcas to follow him. Of course the Priest quickly obeyed, skittering out of the room and deeper into the forge. Likewise Marcas quickly moved across the room to follow the angel, he would have been a fool to argue.

Turning away from the room the being placed a large hand on Marcas' back and gently pushed him forward and out of the room. Surprisingly carful for a being of such size and armour. Taking a step forward the being paused for a moment, a single heart breaking second is all it took for him to look back at the rebels. "You all oppose the Omnissiah and are thrice deemed heretics." Without another word being spoken the being pulled a handful of frag grenades off his armour and tossed them over his shoulder.

As the being and Marcas walked away the room behind them was filled with a mighty explosion that practically vaporised anyone so unfortunate to still be within. Even from his position outside the room the only thing that saved the young boy was the armoured goliath behind him. Heat washed over the boy as the explosion rung in his ears and the shrapnel pinged off the beings armour. So onwards the pair walked out of the forge and up towards Tímin's surface. Marcas assumed this being was going to take him home to his parents, or scold him for his actions in the fight. However, Marcas would never see his home or family again. Instead the young boy was taken to a small gunmetal grey ship. Boarding the ship, Marcas was greeted with two more of these massive amroured beings, and a group of almost twenty other boys...all about the same age as him.

It was with this group, along with almost two hundred other similarly aged boys, that Marcas entered the required training to enter the great Astartes. For just over two years the group trained, fought, and lived together. Many in their numbers died, many more didn't make it to the end. The training was brutal, harder than anything Marcas had ever faced before. They were taught to fight, to kill, they were shaped and moulded into warriors. They bodies where forged, their minds honed to a razor's edge. Moreover, each boy had tomes of Adeptus Mechanicus knowledge drummed into his head and was taught to recite every verse from memory. After two years came the implants; twenty two implants given over the span of four long years. During these four years, however, the training did not end. In fact it seemed to ramp up after every new implant. The boys where given just enough time to recover before being thrown back into their training. However, Marcas always felt he was being pushed that little bit harder than his peers. When the other boys were given a chapter of verses to memorize Marcas was given a tome and expected to do the same, in the same length of time.

Finally, after four gruelling years, the four remaining boys were brought to the chapter's armoury. Each boy was taken before a group of techmarines, servitors and serfs and commanded to strip out of their robes. Standing in only the black bodysuit most would have felt exposed but the four boys felt stronger than they had ever before, for it was now they knew their knew life truly began. However, that feeling was swiftly replaced with a strength like no other mortal could ever dream off. A thick and powerful suit of Mark Ten Power Armour was clamped onto the boys as finally they were welcomed into the venerable chapter of the Adeptus Astartes...the Steel Confessors.

From there the other three boys were deployed to fight along side their sworn brothers against the enemies of the imperium. Marcas however, would not yet see the field of battle. The newly forged Astartes was loaded onto a voidship, with a small selection of other marines, and set off towards the legendary forge world of Mars. Upon this planet Marcas trained for another four years. While He always used to say that he was drilled on more information than any mortal could hope to learn in the early years of his training his time on Mars was another level entirely. While he learnt tomes of information during his early training Marcas was made to learn full databases during his training on Mars. Although when he finally returned to his chapter Marcas was no longer a simple Astartes. The man returned a warrior of both the Steel Confessors and a tech-priest of the Adetus Mechanicus. Marcus returned a Techmarine.

Now wearing his blessed Servo-Harness and with his armour modified to such a level it could now be easily classified as artificer armour Marcas entered service and began to undertake his tasks across the galaxy. Marcas made a name for himself, not only as a skilled techmarine, but as a lethal and brutally effective warrior. He could often found charging into the thickest conflicts, weapons blazing, simply to ensure the chapter's tech never fell into the wrong hands. However, one day this almost caused his downfall. One of the chapter's heavy tanks had become inoperable in the centre of the most bloody sections in the battle. Ensuring his weapons were loaded, using his HUD to check his mounted weaponry, Marcas steeled himself and charged forward towards the tank.

As he drew near Marcas started to connect to the machine spirit to begin the ritualistic procedure of repairing the tank. However, the man suddenly faltered as he was informed that the tank's core was in moments away from overloading. Marcas began to turn away to retreat back way from the tank. However, he never made it that far. A titanic explosion threw Marcas off his feet and over the battlefield. Were many warriors where blown off the face of the planet Marcas was lucky, his armour and powerful body protected him. Slamming into the ground the man realized he was still conscious. His HUD was blazing with reports from his armour but he was alive. Shouting for an apothecary Marcas started to take stock of his wounds. The right side of his helmet had been shattered, and he could feel blood trickling from his ear and from the gory mess that had been his right eye. His arm, which he had used to try and feebly shield himself from the blast, had been blown clean off his body. And his leg was twisted, buckled and torn up under him. It took a while but finally an apothecary made it to the wounded warrior and took him from the battle.

Returning to his chapter fortress Marcas was studied by apothecary and tech-priest alike. It took a day for the study to be fully completed and a day more to agree on an outcome. However, it was finally concluded that while he was certainly injured, and in poor condition, he was too valuable to be given the Emperor's mercy and in too good of a condition to be entombed within a dreadnought. So it was for this reason the man was handed over to the tech-priest's of the chapter and the process to fit him with cybernetics began. For days Marcas was measured, modified and healed. As he was the other tech-priests worked tirelessly to forge and create the metal body parts that would finally be fitted to the warrior. The days passed and finally the cybernetics were brought to the man. While he was still conscious the metallic limbs where grafted where once there had been flesh, surgical tools cut into the side of his head to fit the intricate cybernetic inner ear, and a cybernetic eye was grafted into his skull.

Thus fitted with cybernetics, metal constructs of such a quality that many marines of other chapters would be stunned, Marcas once again entered the field of war. He fought harder and with a newly revigorated passion. Finally in his three hundredth year of life Marcas made a decision. A decision that he had been mulling over for a year and one he had finally come to a conclusion on. Marcas approached his chapter master with a request to stand a Long Watch with the Deathwatch. While still young for a marine Marcas knew that his knowledge was certainly lacking. While of course his knowledge of Imperial technology and Adeptus Mechanicus tomes was second to none he had always felt he was missing something. He was missing the knowledge regarding the technology of that xenos scum that crawled through the galaxy. He knew that if he was able to learn more about it he could certainly aid in his chapters war against it. So it was for this reason that twelve years ago Marcas Den Cheàrdach joined the Deathwatch as one of those fabled Deathwatch Techmarines.

Will the warrior live to see the end of his watch? Will his quest for knowledge be fruitful? What will this man see in the wide war torn galaxy? That is all to be seen and only the Omnissiah's grace will tell.

## Appearance

When compared to other astartes who have undertaken Rubicon Primaris Marcas is a touch on the smaller side. At only seven-foot and eight inches the marine could be mistaken for a taller member of the first-born, instead of a shorter member of the primaris. Moreover, Marcas' muscle mass is more subtle than that of his peers. Instead of the veritable wall of bulging muscle, Marcas is relatively lithe and possesses dense, bands of muscle.

However, even with his much lower than average height and muscle mass if Marcas where to remove his armour he is clearly an individual of extreme power. While it appears that he could run and dodge with the best scout Marcas is also, very much, capable of smashing through a concrete wall with a single powerful strike. However, Marcas has directed this strength and power towards serving the Omnissiah and working alongside the machine spirit.

Although Marcas is in his second century of life if one were to remove his armour they would find a man as sprightly as ever before. His eyes still full of life, his lips still holding a smile, and, aside from the three service studs on his forehead, his skin clear. His hair, still bright and well maintained, has been shaved short at the sides; However, the top is long, braided and pulled back into a pony tail. Although it is still clear, Marcas' skin has become pale over the years due to almost always being covered by his armour or deep within the forges. All combined the man still appears to be in his late twenties, though at some points he can appear much...much older. This normally happens when talking about a subject that has taken him years or decades to learn.

Like the metal he works with Maras' left eye is a bright steel blue. An eye that always seems hard and steady, always watching and judging. His other eye however, is a cybernetic construct that has been with him for many years. It is constructed of metal, which has recently been painted Deathwatch black to match his armour, and possesses three bright red lenses; One large lens flanked by two smaller ones on the outside, one stacked atop the other. The metal of of the man's eyes is similar to the large cybernetic arm and leg. Both of these cybernetics, similar to the man's eye, are on the right hand side of his body. They are both massive masses of metal, hydraulics and wires that have been grafted into his body in the place where their biological alternative once sat. As with most astartes cybernetics they are both immensely powerful and due to their metal construction of little to no feeling.

Marcas has a very small amount of scars across his body, when compared to other marines of his chapter. However, just like any other marine with cybernetics, he possesses a large network of scars around the connection ports of his multiple cybernetics and black carapace connection ports. The only major injury that Marcas gained, a large burn on the right side of his body, has healed up nicely. It only left a series of small pockmark scars scattered across the right side of his body.

## Abilities and Traits

Marcas is a highly skilled and knowledgeable techmarine. He has gained an immense amount of knowledge and skills through both his training on Mars, increased further by his chapters link to the Forge World and his three centuries of first hand experience. It is through this experience that Marcas has become practically a walking encyclopaedia on Imperial technology, weapons, and vehicles, although his knowledge of xenos tech is nothing to be sniffed it. Both sides of Marcas' knowledge covers both a theoretical and a practical application of the technology at is disposal.

Furthermore, as a member of the Astartes Marcas is a hyper lethal and brutally effective warrior. His skill with his Conversion Beamer, his axe, his pistol and even his knife is staggering. However, these are not the only weapons that Marcas carries into battle. Two of his Mechadendrite carry weapons that further increase the man's lethality.

## Equipment

### Armour

* **Mark X Gravis Artificer Armour With Servo-Harness**

### Used Weapons

* **Conversion Beamer**
* **Heavy Bolt Pistol**
* **Omnisian Axe**
* **Astartes Combat Knife**
* **Belt Fed Executor Heavy Bolter Mechadendrite**
* **Plasma Pistol Mechadendrite**

### Munitions

* **Standard Bolts**
* **Kraken Penetrator Bolts**

### Augmetics

* **Right Leg To The Knee**
* **Right Arm To The Shoulder**
* **Total Right Eye**
* **Right Inner Ear**
* **Mind Impulse Unit**

### Familiars

* **Monotask-Skull With a Recorder and Micro Manipulator**
* **Monotask-Skull With a Parchment Recording System**
* **Occasionally a Servitor Cadre**