# Pre-Heresy Iron Warrior Story (Iron Soul)



## ckcrawford (Feb 4, 2009)

This is just some story I conjured in my desperation of waiting of an Iron Warrior Heresy Novel. Hope you heretics like it!:victory:





Iron Soul

The Finding

A pale and broad figure looked from his throne onto the decks of his ship with cold blue eyes. A stare that would send a normal man trembling. This was the primarch of the fourth legion. A cold hearted form of a once great man. Perturabo had been staring at the decks of his ship for several days now. This was not an abnormal thing of the Primarch of the fourth legion to do. Those within the Spear of Iron knew not to bother him while he was in his thoughts. Not in fear that they should suffer his wrath, but of the look in his unemotional face. A face without a slight hint of any emotion. 

Though he kept most primarchs at a distance, they also kept a distance from him as well. No primarch could understand this primarch. There was no brotherly hug or sign of love with his other brothers, except for Horus and Dorn. And even they would always be the ones to walk up to him with the embrace. The Primarch of the fourth legion was cold, but also considerably the most professional of all the primarchs. Unlike Fulgrim who burried himself with glorious trophies or Leman Russ who covered himself in the skins of dead animals. Like him, his legion was a perfect imbodyment of their Primarch. Of all the legions, they were regarded as a robotic legion acting under one mind. Unlike the World Eaters who would charge into the fray without orders, the Iron Warriors were cold hearted bodies that would unleash a fury like no other when the logistics were in place, and then and only then would the unstoppable tide of Iron be unleashed... once unleashed... it would only end once those logistics were in placed, or when told to stop by non other than the primarch of the Iron Warriors himself. Astartes of other Legions would stop for mere moments to try and see what drove these emotionless robots. To comprehend these murderers would to understand pure madness. Unlike the savagery of the Luna Wolves or the Wolves of Fenris that fueled their rage from their animalistic instincts, or the firey rage of the Salamanders, or even the rage that fueled the anger of the Blood Angels and the World Eaters, the Iron Warriors had rage that sparked no emotion. The Iron Warriors were the embodyment of true cold rage. Though astartes were known to know no fear, there were rumors that astartes would often have shivers up their spines at the mere sight of these cold hearted and ruthless murderers in the act. Perhaps not fear, but the mere inability to understand such rage.

"Dorn has arrived." The crew all shuddered and looked upon the great figure who had just spoken. Tears running down most of their eyes as though they had just seen a god. "As you're calculations have always proven, you are right," said a warrior in bulky terminator armor. Helous the Warsmith of the First Grand Company had retained his position for so many years even before the discovery of Horus. Perturabo had admired this Warsmith's grand talent and had given him a title that would change that name... "The Warsmith." It was a name befitting of the most loyal commander in his legion. Perturabo had somewhat distrusted most members of his legion. He hated the fact that he could not read his warriors expressions. The distrust had run throughout his entire legion, and was not uncommon. Though his warriors tended to ignore that distrust by knowing that any orders given, were given by the almighty Perturabo. And above all, he could be trusted. The Phalanx boarded the Spear of Iron. A large figure clad in golden armor walked aboard the Spear of Iron along with a retinue of terminators. Perturabo was walking along the corridor with Helous and one of his captains of his grand company who was also claded in the silver and gold terminator armor. His name Captain Forrix. "Dorn... how did I know you would be the one to come to my ship at such a time?" Said Perturabo in a very obscure way. "Brother... you know why. Horus is Warmaster now, and he needs you beside him during this time. He fears you still hate him."
Perturabo turned his head and starred at the ships deck for few moments. "Come with me Dorn, this discussion shall be talked about elsewhere." As a sign of respect, Perturabo accepted his brother embrace and they walked away to the grand primarch's chambers. "Honsou! You yellow bald headed bastard!" Shouted Helous right as the two primarchs walked out of view. Both embraced each other as brothers. Honsou was one of the Golden Primarchs greatest pretorians. He had become part of his primarchs personal retinue ten years ago. Helous and Honsou had both fought along each other for a decade while Rogal Dorn and his Imperial Fists had first been discovered and had had assistance from Perturabo and his Iron Warriors. After that, they had always been appreciated to battle with one another when the Emperor required the assistance of the two to take down an enemies defences. "Helous... my brother, how has your legions hand in this crusade been?" "Nasty at best Honsou, Perturabo has been quite disapointed about many things. Things he will not even tell me." 

The room was cold and dark. Around the room were pieces of alien technology contained in glass. Perturabo had always been a master and collector of technology. He knew how everything worked that often the Martians would ask him of his advice and help, though it sorely hurt their pride to ask such a thing from a flesh corpse. Perturabo handed over a glass of wine to Dorn. This whole time, Perturabo had not even made eye contact. Suddenly he turned over and faced Dorn in his eyes as he sat down on a chair made of stone. "Sit down brother." Dorn sat down enjoying the sip he had taken from his refreshment. "Thank you brother. We have always been close. Of all the legions and brothers that I have fought alongside, you and your legion have been the most influential and helpful to my success. Thats why I have come to you for trust." "Trust..." The cold and icy primarch tried to whisper though Dorn could sense a bit of anger and bitterness in his voice. "You were there the day Horus had unknowingly decided the fate of the eleventh legion. You and I are the only elements that know the whereabouts of our lost brother. It is Horus' fault that he has been excommunicated!" Perturabo had not been one to show emotion, but Dorn could understand. Of all the primarchs that shared brotherhood, Dorn and Perturabo had been one of the closest next to Horus and Sanguinus. Perturabo had great pride of the Imperial Fists and Dorn. Perturabo had been the second brother to be found by The Emperor. Both Horus and Perturabo had helped the other legions until the primarchs could finally handle their legions and worlds on their own. Unlike his brother Horus who went out for glory to seek in his crusade, Perturabo had spent much of his time helping legions. The only Legion Horus had really taken under his arms was Fulgrim and his Emperor's Children. Horus had been proud when the Emperor had given them their name and the gift to wear the sign of the Aquila. Perturabo had been quite disapointed with how the Primarchs had influenced the great legions Perturabo had trained. Perturabo had helped much of the Thousand Sons and Magnus during the crusade. Perturabo had taught Magnus the power in having knowledge. Except, instead of the logistical and technolgical knowledge Perturabo had taught him, Magnus had always liked to play around with sorcery. Perturabo did not hate sorcery like most of his cousins but he was disapointed that Magnus had only walked away with a fragment of reality. Another of Perturabo's failures had been the World Eaters. At first the legion seemed a promising legion. Perhaps not as intelligent as his Iron Warriors. But they were the ideal soldier that had seen no equal. As such was their love of warfare that they had been a legion known for being "trigger happy." They marvelled the heavy bolter. But more than that, they loved close quarters and its variety of close combat choice weapons. But when Angron had become primarch of the World Eaters, they had become nothing more than blood crazed lunatics. The potential legion had become the will of a monster in rage. It would be a sight to see the astartes of Angron's legion fighting any battle with more than a bolt pistol and close combat weapon. Even if you would witness such a rare thing, his astartes would be randomly shooting everything into the atmosphere as a challenge to their enemies. The eleventh legion was a tratedgy and potential legion all together. But Dorn and his Imperial Fists, had been a legion Perturabo was proud to have helped and fight alongside. As such he had his right elbow pad colored with yellow and black in respect of Dorn's Legion. A mark incorporated unto every Iron Warrior somewhere and not necessary on the elbow. No two legion's tactics had even rivaled the closeness than Perturabo's and Dorn's legions. Dorn had gone off to learn extra tactics for his legion, having grown a close bond with his brother Horus. "I have told him... I shall follow him. What does he want from me? Does he want me to crawl on all fours and have me tell the whole Imperium how much I adore his position as Warmaster?" Dorn got up from the cold stone chair and put his left arm on his left shoulder. "He just wants to be sure that you will do as he asks." Perturabo stood up from his stone chair and walked away to a table away from Dorn. On the table were all sorts of works Perturabo had been spending his life trying to solve. Perturabo had been an inventor in his own respect. When Perturabo thought of something he would invent he would sit in his room and find out someway for his invention to work. They would all be solved... "I do not trust Horus. Horus is an enigma in his own way. I do not understand him. Because of him a whole legion will be lost... perhaps... forever." Dorn walked over the table and clenched his fists. "Perturabo... my brother... you can always trust me. Do not trust your intuition. Trust you best trait. Be logical. What has happened has happened. What is lost, is lost forever. Horus failures are the past. Horus' burdens surpass us all, and because of this he has more to live up too. He will be a true Warmaster. You know that." Perturabo stared into the darkness, his emotion locked away now. "I will always be loyal to the Imperium Dorn. Even if it means that I should follow Horus as the new Warmaster. I trust you... and you are right. I will not search my emotions again." Dorn walked to the table. "Good, we are to set fire on the planet Lestad. The Emperor will be there. Be ready my brother." Dorn set the glass on the table. As Dorn walked out the room, Perturabo searched the half empty glass. Before leaving the room he said "Iron Within brother, Iron Within." The two had chanted it to each other every time they parted ways as a sign of respect. As Perturabo searched the glass he saw a drop of spilled wine form a shape. As he searched the shape it was forming something impossible for liquid to make. It was making perfect sharp angles and round formations. As the wine had finished spreading across one of his archtectual plans it formed he could finally make sense of the shape. A dagger. 

Honsou and Helous trolled along the broadside compartments of the Spear of Iron. Honsou like most of his legion admired the tools of siege warfare. Being on the ship of the father of siege warfare was indeed a sight that awed him. Honsou had never seen such beautiful pieces as these canons. These pieces had been engineered and created from the plans of Perturabo himself. "Horus sends us to the stone world of Lestad." Helous smiled with a smirk of rejoice. "You tell me this, and yet you will not be there. As one of your primarch's pretorian, I doubt you will see a fight for a very... very... long time.... I sense you are hiding something from me." Honsou starred at the decks and cannons. The place was beautiful in the sense it had the tools of death, but the space was rusty, and dusty, with a grey loom all around. As though the ship was a ghost ship. Honsou replied off topic, "You Iron Warriors should really give this place a makeover. It looks like a forsaken dungeon." Helous barked at Honsou "For the sake of the Emperor! Don't change the subject." The Warrior in yellow armor stopped walking. "...Dorn has accepted me as temporary first captain. I will leading the Imperial Fists on this planet. It has been years since I suffered that wraithlord's blast. I thought my lord would never let me fight again. Though I have great honor that my lord has granted me such a rank in his guard I miss the smell of cannon fire and the destruction of walls the enemies of the emperor." Helous smiled and turned to Honsou. "Honsou, it will be a great and honorable battle, and the Imperium's two best champions will be seen in the glory of the emperor. Both you and I will be envied before the other Legions, in this life... and the next."


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## ckcrawford (Feb 4, 2009)

The Race

Both the Spear of Iron and the Phalanx spead to the lost planet of Lestad. The Emperor had already been ready. He had, had many regiments of his Imperial Guard surround the last fortress of the Novastead. A race that was all but extinct. Possibly a threat to humanity long ago, but now nothing more except these were left in the entire galaxy. They were creatures who were very advanced in technology. Their technology rivaled the eldar, except no one could ever figure out how to work their technolgy. The only being to ever have any understanding of their technology was Perturabo. The Novastead were a very strange organism. They had an exoskeleton very much similar to the density of stone. Except for their bodyshape they pretty much looked like stone people except for their heads. Their heads looked like sting rays.

Dorn and Perturabo had sent their most veteran companies to show off to the emperor the greatness of each legion. "The good for nothing Ultramarines have failed to extinguish these bastards! Don't worry sons of Guilliman, we will finish the work you couldn't finish!" Perturabo screamed as he yelled at the heavens. Perturabo's vox turned on and he could hear Dorn. "You know thats not true, brother, lets just say... Guilliman is off fighting the easier parts of this campaign trying to seek favor by winning the less important battles and trying to be an Emperor in Ultramar." Perturabo started laughing, "Hes won so many victories but I can only name ten important battles..." Dorn interupted..."Ten..? I count five that I can actually think of." Perturabo responded, "Thats because your ignorant you fool." Dorn responded, "Yes, and your the more appreciated one of Guilliman I assume because you know double what I do even though he's won hundreds worlds over that fought him with little more than pitch forks." Perturabo smirked. "Tens... of hundreds probably..." Dorn giggled, "I don't care." 

Perturabo's forces and Dorn's forces were on opposite sides of the fortress. It had been a week since they had arrived as they had to build trenches. Now the time had come for the end of the Novastead. Dorn unleashed his vindicators to unleash the first canons of destruction for the battle. Perturabo's vox came alive, "Hurry up you Iron fool, Or I'll beat you to the center of this fortress." Perturabo smirked. "Yellow belly fools." Perturabo screamed! "Unleash the sound of war!" Perturabo's engines silenced Dorn's vindicators as they paused at the sound of destruction. Every defense on Perturabo's side of the wall lay dorment. There was nothing alive or functioning. Dorn laughed "Ahhhh Perturabo! You want to hear noise! Aye! Unleash the devastaters!" Dorn knew he couldn't create the devastation Perturabo's weapons could create. But he laughed, he would make this a battle of who could make the biggest noise. The Novastead rushed the wall on Perturabo's side foolishly thinking Perturabo's forces were running out of fire power. Perturabo hearing the engines of Dorn's second volley end, he yelled "Dorn and his yellow belly losers can't hear us! Louder I say! Louder!" And with that the rest of the Iron Warriors fired at the fortresss. The siege lasted 12 hours of both sides trying to gain superiority in noise one after the other, untill The Emperor voxed in. "Dorn! Perturabo! For the last six hours you have been shooting at nothing but dead corpses, ash and broken wall bits! Stop this nonsense! I have things to do back on Terra!" Honsou and Helous sent their forces in to encounter little resistance. Victory, had been complete.


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## ckcrawford (Feb 4, 2009)

Betrayel

The Phalanx and Spear of Iron were making their way back to Terra. The Emperor had decreed that both that all Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fist fleets come forth. The Emperor had seeked tasks for them. Both Dorn and Perturabo and The Emperor were to have dinner and discuss something of great importance. Dorn had walked the palace to Perturabo's chamber. Every Primarch had had a chamber created for them, waiting for them when the Emperor chose to call out for them to discuss something of importance. Horus had been the last of the Primarchs to tread these long halls. Dorn was carrying a white bag. Carrying in it plans of different buildings. Dorn had reached Perturabo's chamber. Knocked and the chamber door opened. "Dorn! Ready for dinner are you?" Dorn walked in. "Yes brother." Dorn looked skeptical. "Are you alright Dorn?" Dorn lifted his head as though sad. "Quite alright brother. Just a little sick. I wanted to get your opinions of how to fortify these key structures." Dorn handed over the scrolls. Perturabo grabbed the scrolls and studied the structures as though reading a book. "These look like key structures of Terra." Perturabo looked at Dorn confused. "Dorn try to change his appearence. "I've been quite bored. I wanted to construct some ideas. Perturabo eyes searched Dorn and then went back to search the blue prints. "Tell our father I will be a little late. It will take me a few minutes to begin processing these blue prints. After processing I shall meet with you two. And tomorrow morning I will give you best fortification Terra could ever construct." 

Dorn was walking to the great dinning hall of The Emperor. The greatest people of humanity walked these halls.The innocent and naive politicians had walked these halls, but none strode down these halls more proudly than The Emperor of Mankind and his 20 primarchs. Every picture or statue represented the greatness of the 21 beings of the Imperium. Every animal or symbol was created in honor of them. Not even Malcador the Wise was honored to such a degree. Even the second and eleventh legions had pieces of art that had laid upon these walls. But they had been removed and taken to the Emperor's Chambers. 

The Emperor sat at the head of the big table. Waiting for the two to come, Dorn walked around the table and embraced his father. "Father, Perturabo is fooling around with one of his inventions again, he says he will be a little late." The Emperor smiled and released his son. "That is fine, I was hoping to talk to you before I set my final decision. We have talked over this before somewhat... but I would like for your brother Perturabo to become protector alongside you of Terra." Dorn looked at his father as though stunned. "Father, you said I would be the son of Terra... Its protector.... what possible benefit could there possibly be with two entire legions defending Terra? What of the Crusade?" The Emperor gestured Dorn to kindly sit down. "Son... you and Perturabo are the mightiest of defenders. If there is one regret I have, it is that Perturabo had wasted his time sharing the glory with other legions and being ripped from the crusade to do the nastiest of sieges and the over extension of his legion to baby sit the planets who have rebelled against the Imperium. And as such, he has become bitter." Dorn starred at the truth in his father's eyes. 

Perturabo had finished his intake of the plans. He would slowly process the information to format plans that would help Dorn with one side of his brain and use the other to conversate with his Dorn and the Emperor. Perturabo often did this, but in doing so many people thought he was just starring off coldly into space. As he was about to walk into the the room he heard Dorn speak.

"Father, you know Perturabo is my brother, and I care for him and all my other brothers. But... my heart goes to the Imperium first. You know as well as I do, the sacrifice of Perturabo and his legion is a necsesary one... Even if it does cost Perturabo any other bit of humanity he still has left in him. It is because he can endure this bitterness that we can use him for this task." The Emperor looked at Dorn with sadness. "You would manipulate and use your own brother?" Dorn looked at his plate picking at the food in his plate. "For the glory and the betterment of the Imperium... yes."

Dorn and the Emperor had heard footsteps. Perturabo had walked away and came from the distance in a more louder fashion. As though he were a cold form of a being marching through the hallways. This was how he was known to walk when his mind was caught up in thought and therefore not thought as uncommon. Perturabo walked in and sat on his seat right next to Dorn. Dorn embraced his brother with knife in his right hand and his fork in his left, like child ready to eat. Perturabo did not accept his brother's embrace, which was also not uncommon of him. Dorn clenched the knife as not to stab his brother and punched his brother as a gesture. "What food we shall have tonight! Aye brother?" Perturabo looked at the knife with eyes that could pierce the soul. It frightened Dorn, and with a a quick glance gave the same look at Dorn... right in his eyes. His father who was pretending to be focussed more on his meal pretended not to notice the gesture. The Emperor tried to change the subject and started to make fun of the other legions. The Emperor would always do this with their other brothers. It was fun to make fun of the others when they were not around. Dorn just thinking Perturabo was just being Perturabo had thought everything was normal. Before both primarchs went to their chambers Perturabo asked his father, "Father... what have you called me for?" His father was clever, he knew how to exploit his son, what would make him forget that he had any human qualities in him. "Perturabo, I have another race you will enjoy showing your qualities and exterminating. Tell me Perturabo, what do you know of the Hrud?"


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## ckcrawford (Feb 4, 2009)

A Dead Cold Heart

Perturabo had had his servants cleaned his chambers ready to leave back on the Spear of Iron. Dorn walked in and before he could talk, Perturabo had answered his brother's entrance with an icy welcome. "Dorn. The plans you seek are at the desk. I have to leave." Dorn knowing something wrong, and tried to find words. Dorn felt something was wrong. But what? Dorn put himself down with grief and sadness. "He knew." Dorn thought to himself, Perturabo had heard Dorn last night. As Perturabo's servants walked out Perturabo had walked out right after them. "Iron Within brother!" A tear rolled down Rogal Dorn's eyes. Perturabo stopped momentarly but did not look back. Then the primarch of the fourth legion replied. "Iron Without." He walked out of the chambers and went to the Spear of Iron. Dorn had lost a brother... forever.


The Path of Iron

Perturabo starred from his throne onto the decks of his ship. No emotion, no regret, nothing of humanity left. He would be what the Emperor needed him to do. Purge, cleanse, and kill! There would be no quarter. If you are an enemy of the Imperium you will die! IRON WITHIN! IRON WITHOUT! The crew trembled as the Primarch of the Iron Warriors screamed out randomly. The whole ship could hear his cry of war. And with that, every single Iron Warrior cried out! Iron Within! Iron Without!


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## bane-of-banes (Sep 9, 2010)

great stuff mate, keep it up!


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## ckcrawford (Feb 4, 2009)

Thanks mate. This has been my first real piece in terms of making up a fun short story. Just practicing the imagination:grin:. 
I tried to portray Perturabo as more of primarch who slowly turned cold and bitter. And the moment that it seemed as though he could save his humanity it gets lost for the better of the Imperium. I like the tragic downfalls of the chaos primarchs. like Fulgrim and Horus.


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## bane-of-banes (Sep 9, 2010)

too epic for my eyes XD

+rep!


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## Fancyxeno21 (Sep 8, 2010)

this was a great read, i really enjoyed it. Before reading this my opinion on Perturabo was that he was a cold primarch who really had no ties with anyone else, and i thought he hated dorn. After reading this, I am very excited for the IW horus heresy book, should be good!

good work!


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## ckcrawford (Feb 4, 2009)

Indeed Perturabo is/was a cold primarch. The same way as Angron was a brute I tried to explain what drove Perturabo to being such a absent primarch.


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