This feral planet has little direct political or economic interference from the Imperium and only pays the lowest grade of planetary tithes. Constant vigilance and regular belief-modification of the population is enacted by agents of the Ecclesiarchy as a necessity, to foster belief in the God-Emperor and to monitor the native population for psykers or mutants. The Ecclesiarchy has adapted its teachings towards the indigenous and often unique cult belief system of the Gathis people. The mortuary-cult beliefs of Gathis II reflect the Doom Eagles' beliefs that a person is already dead.
The natives believe that death is inevitable and that they themselves are dying, which is ultimately liberating, freeing one's soul from doubt. There they built their mighty fortress-monastery , known as the Eyrie , which is located in the Razorpeaks mountain range upon the tallest peak. The earliest, most primitive tribes of Gathis II had christened it the Ghostmountain, a name not in honour of its white-grey stone, but in recognition of the many dead that haunted it, so lethal are its slopes.
Thousands of standard years later the name is, if anything, even more fitting. Slick rain, dark with the metallic scent of oceans and the tang of rotting biomass, constantly fall against the constructions men had built high up in the tallest crags. Once, before men had come from Terra to colonise this world, there had been a true peak atop the Ghostmountain, a series of serrated spires that rose high enough that they could pierce the cloud mantle.
Now a great walled citadel stands in their place, the living rock of the peak carved and formed by artisans into halls, donjons and battlements of a stark, grim aspect. At each point of the compass, a hulking tower rises, opening into the sculpted shape of a vast raptor screaming defiance at elements and enemies.
The Doom Eagles' first Chapter Master , Aquila, made it a tenet of his new Chapter that every Son of Gathis would understand the cost of hesitance, of failure -- and with it, the great guilt that came in step. He would have them see these things, know them first-hand. And so, relics were added to the Chapter's Reclusiam; gathered by Battle-Brothers on pilgrimages to places of battle and failed wars, each item a piece of despair and calamity made solid and real. Built within the Eyrie is a great octagonal tower, tallest of the citadels that reaches for the sky, deepest of those that plunges levels down into the heart-rock of the Ghostmountain.
The Reclusiam is a million memorials to countless deaths across the galaxy.
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Entire floors are given over to relics recovered from the sites of terrible battles and brutal wars across the entire span of the Imperium. Many are from conflicts in which the Doom Eagles had taken a direct part, but others are from atrocities so soaked in despair and fatality that warriors of the Chapter had been drawn to visit them. Many levels of the Reclusiam are such grim museums, halls reverent with shards of stone and bone, glass and steel.
Armageddon , Rocene, Malvolion , Telemachus, Brodrakul and countless other war-sites, all are represented there. And in the hallowed core, brought to the Eyrie by Aquila himself, the silver-walled chamber where pieces of shattered masonry from the Imperial Palace lay alongside a feather from the wing of Sanguinius and a shard of the Emperor's own battle armour. It is said that those with the witch-sight can hear the ghost-screams in the tower. If that is so, if these relics can indeed contain a fraction of the pain and anguish that had enveloped them, then those without psychic abilities are glad that the great chorus of sorrow thundering silent in the air is hidden from them.
Within the tall citadel of the Eyrie's Reclusiam lies the Hall of the Fallen. The largest open space inside the Eyrie, the vast walls, floor and ceilings are sheathed in great tiles of polished obsidian, each the size of a Land Raider.
Hanging at right angles from complex armatures, some from floor to ceiling, others suspended at differing heights, there are free-floating panels of the same dark stone. At a distance, the glassy black panes seem clouded somehow, but as one draws closer, definition unfolds. Each panel is perfectly laser-etched into thin strips; each strip sports a half-globe of glass, behind which lies a random item.
When a Battle-Brother dies, in accordance with Chapter laws and dictates, his name is cast from the rolls. A ceremony of loss is then conducted and sanctified. The name of the dead Battle-Brother is carved in High Gothic script, etched into the black obsidian by a Servitor stoneworker, the letters lined in heavy silver.
The fallen's name is carved in memoriam, by the light of the Chapter and all of Gathis. Next to each name, inside the glass, lies a relic: a fragment of armour, an eye-lens, a Bolter shell, an honour-chain. Every artefact is something that had been touched by the dead. A piece of them, to be held in trust for as long as the Chapter exists.
Within the heart of the Ghostmountain, in the deepest levels of the Hall of the Fallen, lies the memorial of the Chapter's founder, Aquila, and beside it a cracked helmet under glass. It has no dressing, no great and ostentatious detail to set it aside from every other marker. The First Master had ordered it so, knowing that in death, all men are truly equal. Doom Eagles Assault Marines attack the foe. The Doom Eagles is a Codex Astartes -compliant Chapter, adhering to the wisdom of its Primarch, yet it displays a predilection for aerial attacks using Assault Squads equipped with Jump Packs.
The Chapter's Battle-Brothers are especially potent in this role, taking on the aspect of the literal "angels of death", swooping down from the heavens to mete out the Emperor's justice upon the foes of Mankind. The Chapter's focus on such tactics means that its veterans are held to be amongst the finest exponents of the jump assault in the entire Adeptus Astartes, though plenty amongst the Blood Angels and the Raven Guard Chapters would vehemently disagree. As a Successor Chapter of the Ultramarines , the Doom Eagles are amongst the august group of some of the most well-known and celebrated Chapters ever to have fought in Humanity's name, sharing as they do the genetic inheritance and many of the traditions of the Ultramarines.
In many ways, however, the Doom Eagles are very different to the other inheritors of Roboute Guilliman 's legacy. While the Ultramarines are noble and virtuous, each a shining exemplar of the values the Space Marines are sworn to uphold, the Doom Eagles are overtly maudlin in demeanour, the teachings of their Chapter cult very much focused on death and mourning.
Central to the Doom Eagles' traditions is the notion that each and every Battle-Brother is already dying. Many brethren appear consumed by grief, though as Space Marines they are well able to bear their affliction. The Doom Eagles suffer their maudlin nature with stoicism and dignity, channelling it via their Chapter's rites and traditions into a weapon with which to engage the enemies of Mankind.
Their belief that death is inevitable and that they themselves are dying, which is ultimately liberating, for it frees the Doom Eagles from the scant doubts that one as mighty and fearless as a Space Marine might still harbour. Only those able to overcome every shred of fear of death survive the Chapter's rites of selection, and those who do, while dark and brooding, have truly conquered death itself. The Doom Eagles primarily wear metallic silver Power Armour.
The Aquila or Imperialis on the chest guard is red. The red squad specialty symbol -- Tactical , Assault , Devastator or Veteran -- is indicated on the right shoulder guard.
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A black Gothic numeral is stenciled in the centre of the squad specialty symbol, which indicates squad number. The colour of the right knee guard displays the Company number in accordance to the Codex Astartes -- i. A black Gothic numeral on the right knee guard further identifies the company an individual Battle-Brother belongs to. The Doom Eagles' Chapter badge is a stylised ebon Aquila, its wings displayed and elevated, with its dual-heads replaced with the grim visage of a large white skull, centred on a field of silver. Sign In Don't have an account? Start a Wiki.
Only in accepting our own mortality can we make a difference. Now a new king has been installed among the Durotriges to bring them into line — and Optio Horatius Figulus of the Second Legion is charged with protecting him. But a Druid assassin is rumoured to be plotting to kill the king before he can establish his rule. Then the king begins a devastating campaign of reprisals against his political rivals.
Whole families are murdered, weapons are confiscated and the old gods are denounced. As native discontent threatens to spill over into open rebellion, Figulus finds his unswerving allegiance to Rome faltering. Then the king decides to confront his opponents…just as the assassin is poised to strike. He and his most trusted comrades are to help install a new king in a hostile area. Fail, and the whole invasion will be jeopardised. Under constant attack from raiders, plagued by ruthless Druids and up against hostile natives, Figulus and his men will need all their courage and ingenuity to succeed.
The invasion of Britannia has been bloody and relentless, and still the barbaric islanders have not been fully conquered. The men of the Second Legion have suffered grievous losses in driving back their bitterest enemy, but worse is yet to come for the beleaguered soldiers. With winter fast approaching, they face a new threat: ferocious native warriors launching coordinated attacks from their secret base on the Isle of Vectis. In response, the new legate announces a plan to invade Vectis and rout the enemy in what he expects to be a speedy and successful mission.
But Horatius Figulus, a junior officer with local knowledge of the enemy, doubts the invasion will be so straightforward. And when the Second Legion encounters fierce resistance on the beach, Figulus and his fellow soldiers suddenly find themselves fighting a desperate battle for their lives…. But opposition from native tribes led by the ruthless warrior Caratacus threatens to destroy everything. Tasked with leading a newly formed cavalry cohort into the heartland of Wales, they must destroy the growing resistance.
After initially publishing as five ebook novellas Barbarian, Challenger, First Sword, Revenge and Champion , the Arena series was published as one full volume in Will he live to face his nemesis? Faced with ferocious attack by a vast Turkish fleet, the knights of the Order of St John fear annihilation. Amongst those called to assist is disgraced veteran Sir Thomas Barrett. Loyalty and instinct compel him to put the Order above all other concerns, yet his allegiance is divided.
As Sir Thomas confronts the past that cost him his honour and a secret that has long lain buried, a vast enemy army arrives to lay siege to the island…. The city of Rome in AD 50 is a dangerous place. It is feared that the heart of the latest plot lies in the ranks of the Praetorian Guard. Uncertain of whom he can trust, the Imperial Secretary Narcissus summons to Rome two courageous men guaranteed to be loyal to the grave: army veterans Prefect Cato and Centurion Macro.
Tasked with infiltrating the Guard, Cato and Macro face a daunting test to win the trust of their fellow soldiers. Now they face a race against time to save their own lives before they can unmask the mastermind behind the Liberators…. When the actions of a rebel gladiator in Egypt threaten the stability of the Roman Empire, Prefect Cato and Centurion Macro know he must be stopped. But will the strength of a psychotically fatalist gladiator and his new-found allies, hell-bent on destruction, defeat the Roman warriors?
But when Wellington invades France in he gains a swift victory. Napoleon, ambitious as ever, embarks on a Russian campaign which ends in disaster and is then defeated at Leipzig in the biggest battle ever fought in Europe. While centurions Macro and Cato are returning to Rome from a harrowing campaign against the Parthians, their transport ship is almost capsized by a tidal wave. They barely make it to the port of Matala in Crete where they are stunned to find a devastated town. An earthquake has struck the island, destroying its cities and killing thousands. Can they move swiftly enough to counter the rebellion before it sweeps the Romans from the island?
In the early years of the nineteenth century, Arthur Wellesley elevated to Viscount Wellington in the course of the novel and Napoleon Bonaparte are well established as men of military genius. Wellesley has returned from India, where his skill and bravery made a remarkable impression on his superiors. He faces trials and tribulations on the political scene before becoming embroiled militarily in Copenhagen, then Portugal and finally Spain. Napoleon, established as Emperor, is cementing his control on Europe, intending finally to crush his hated foe across the Channel: Great Britain.
The time is fast approaching when Wellington and Napoleon will come face to face in confrontation — and only one man can emerge victorious…. Parthia is vying with Rome for control of Palmyra, an officially neutral kingdom. If Palmyra is not to fall into the clutches of Parthia, they will have to defeat superior numbers in a desperate siege. The quest for a lasting peace has never been more challenging, nor more critical for the future of the Empire. Trouble is brewing in Syria, on the eastern frontier of the Roman Empire.
With the troops in a deplorable state, centurions Macro and Cato are despatched to restore the competence of the cohort. But another challenge faces them as Bannus, a local tribesman, is brewing up trouble and preaching violent opposition to Rome. As the local revolt grows in scale, Macro and Cato must stamp out corruption in the cohort and restore it to fighting fitness to quash Bannus — before the eastern provinces are lost to the Empire forever….
It is spring 45 AD and Centurions Macro and Cato, dismissed from the Second Legion in Britain, are trapped in Rome, waiting for their involvement in the death of a fellow officer to be investigated. With him were scrolls vital to the safety of the Emperor and the future of Rome.
However, Narcissus also sends Vitellius, an old enemy of the two centurions. The three officers set out from Ravenna with the imperial fleet but the pirates are forewarned and the Romans pay a heavy price. It is late summer 44 AD and the battle-weary Roman legions are in their second year of campaigning against the British tribes.
Outraged by this failure, General Plautius orders the decimation of the unit. Their choice: die, or escape to become a fugitive pursued by soldiers of their own ruthless army. They must train his tribal levies into a force that can protect him and take on the increasingly ambitious raids that the enemy is launching. Macro and Cato face the greatest test of their army careers as only they stand between the destiny of Rome and bloody defeat….
After a series of bloody battles, Camulodunum modern-day Colchester has fallen to the invading Roman army. The Emperor has returned to Rome, leaving the fearless Centurion Macro and his young Optio, Cato, to rest and regroup, along with the rest of the Second Legion.
As their leader General Plautius plans the next phase of their campaign, word arrives that the ship carrying his family to join him was wrecked in a storm off the south coast. His wife and children have fallen into the hands of a dark sect of Druids, who now demand the return of those of their brotherhood taken prisoner by the Romans.
Will Cato and Macro discover where the Druids are hiding their hostages? And can they find some way to rescue them before time runs out? In a series of bloody skirmishes, Macro and his young subordinate, Optio Cato, and the desperately outnumbered Roman army must find and defeat the enemy before he grows strong enough to overwhelm the legions.
From Ant to Eagle
But the Britons are not the only foe facing Macro and Cato. A sinister organisation opposed to the Emperor is secretly betraying the invaders. As second-in-command to Macro, the fearless, battle-scarred centurion who leads them, Cato will have more to prove than most in the adventures that lie ahead. Until called upon? What is the life of a sacred thing, beyond waiting to be called forth? Though, too, I believe we are necessary, and that restive powers need to be touched, moved, acknowledged into being.
And that the act of enlivening matters. Eagles certainly look ferocious, confident, full of pride: those sharp talons for seizing and beaks for tearing, puffed breasts though many birds puff up in the cold and blazing, ever-open eyes almost human-sized, though four times as sharp. Whose eyes are a buttery yellow, and gently bright.
Such is the way the best thought comes—over time, very slowly. Where crowds gather, I run the other way—toward buzzard, crow, sparrow. The rabble.
The common. Definitely the pigeon. Not the brook-voiced mourning dove with its slow grace and musical flight; I mean exactly the city pigeon, oily and bright as a gas station puddle, and not at all bothered by spiked window sills, or ledges sown with shards of glass. Who never hurries, who dodges buses at the very last second, resettling itself in the same perilous spot. My third eagle—an eagle pair, so alike in their fate I can discuss them as one—came a few weeks ago at a small, county zoo in New Jersey. They lived in a well-kept cage enclosed by special, tangle-resistant mesh.
As their keeper said, netting kills the mood. At the National Eagle Repository, in Commerce City, Colorado, the bodies of dead eagles are collected, cataloged, and frozen. Do not ask for both.
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Applicants are advised of the long waiting period for birds for the immature golden eagle, the most in demand, at least five years. There are over five thousand people on the waiting list for the approximately one thousand eagles the repository receives annually. Other wait times include: whole tail only, golden eagle: four to four and a half years; whole tail only, bald eagle: two to two and a half years; pair of eagle wings, approximately one year; trunks, heads, talons only: on receipt of request. The form is highly specific, so as to carefully dole out birds.
Quality may vary.
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Applicants may not customize orders. If feathers are earned through deeds, if feathers are the deeds themselves, if eagle trapping sites are sacred and the hunt is undertaken after intense prayer and fasting—and if one must now apply to the government for feathers and parts—how does the sacred proceed?
One is looking at a bird that is somehow more than a bird. One is looking at something that has been worked with a mysterious skill and a kind of love. Not an imitation, but a glimpse, an attempt. My fourth eagle was a gathering of birds at the Conowingo Dam, near the spot where the Susquehanna River empties into the Chesapeake Bay.