Vilhjamhr Schwarzfell

Grey Hunter from Gunnar Redmoon's Great Company

Description:

Ruddy skin, robust, brown hair and eyes, right canine longer than left.

Tactical Marine, Rank 1
Chapter Demeanor: Sons of Russ
Personal Demeanor: Gregarious
WS 46
BS 48
S 43 (73)*
T 46
Ag 43
Int 43
Per 50 (53)**
WP 44
Fel 55

*Power armor history- MKVII Aquila armor- The Artificer’s Skill- The Claws of the Wolfkin (The Pauldrons of Fury) (+10 strength)

**Chapter Trapping- Totem of the Sun wolf- +3 Perception for Awarness checks.

Skills
Tracking +10
Ciphers: Xenos Markings
Survival
Performer:Story Telling

Talents
Rapid Reload
Hardy

Characteristic Advances
Ballistic Skill +5
Fellowship +5

Bio:

The saga of Vilhjamhr Schwarzfell, as told by Rune Priest Svengir of Gunnar Redmoon’s Great Company.

A son of Fenris, Vilhjamhr‘s tribe was a small one compared to most. On a summer day, they were ravaged by a kraken when moving about the ocean, searching for a better place to settle. Many people he knew died to the beast during the fight. When it came up to feed one last time, the Fernesian jumped upon the creature’s head and ran its eye through with his axe. The weapon sunk deep into the monster, directly into what was probably its brain. It writhed in pain, grabbed him, and threw him in the air. He landed with his spine slamming into an iceberg. The last thing he recalled before blacking out was the creature’s death throes. It tossed the few remaining boats of his tribes people around like toys. As his consciousness faded, a loud thundering sound was heard above the screaming of battle. All he could hope for was it being the Valkyries taking him to Valhalla.

“You are a brave man, young one,” a deep, metallic voice said. The world was still black as Vilhjamhr could not open his eyes. Was he dead? Was this a chooser of the slain? “You killed a creature of the deep and saved many of your kin. A truly noble sacrifice for any warrior. Your deeds will not go unrewarded. I will help you to serve an even higher power with that great honor you possess.” His senses were dull, but he could feel his body was no longer in the frigid water. Large hands were cradling him, and a roaring sound got closer and closer. “Yes, to Valhalla,” he thought. His strength soon eluded him again and his awareness faded.

What he would come to learn is that a Thunderhawk was flying low to observe the skirmish that was happening. Onboard was Siegfried Grimmblood, a Wolfpriest of Gunnar Redmoon’s company. The priest was to be taken to the Fang for personal reasons only he knew. Being as curious as he was wise, he could not help but observe the chaos in the water. Vilhjamhr’s actions sealed his fate once he dove onto the monster. Siegfried knew this man was worth saving when he saw his lifeless body hit the water. He would not let him die without him serving the Emperor and Russ.

Needless to say, Vilhjamhr passed his trials at the Fang and was inducted into the Redmoon’s Blood Claws. His fire shone in the pack, and he followed the tutelage of Wolfguard Gilford as if he were the veteran’s apprentice. During the “Scourging of Terax VII” most of his pack was lost. They took the honor of leading a charge across no-man’s land into entrenched Ork lines. Many of the young fell to the large caliber, high rate of fire guns the Xenos were using. However, the dozen who did make it cut an ichor laden swath through the Orks. The unit held the line as the Grey Hunters came in to support, even forgoing pressing their close quarters combat to let the Grey Hunters take the enemy from afar. This proved to the Wolfguard that the pups were ready to become Grey Hunters.

The Grey Hunter pack Vilhjamhr served in was not the most honored pack seen by Redmoon’s company. But that isn’t to say they were lax in their accomplishments. On Eustice Prime, it was they who took the Battle to Ethereal Tun’shu personally and crushed the Tau’s morale upon their knives and bolters. It was they who held Port Macharius on Gryphonne IV to assure the local populace could evacuate the Warp storm whilst Chaos attempted to route them. It was they who cut down the Heretek Vildimir on Forgeworld Vintcus before his Xenos modification cult could take root. And it was they who found the taint of Tzneech on Furdian II, causing the cleansing fire of Exterminatus to judge the unclean.

These battles took their toll on the squad, however. Brothers were slowly lost. Tychus II saw the loss of 3 of his brothers to the piratical Eldar and their witchery. Only being six in number after the battle, and all of them being veterans of 150 years, the Wolf priests took interest in their lot for possible promotion into either Wolfguard or Long Fang duty. Before this could happen, the company was deployed into another battle zone.

An Ork WAAGGH! had gained significant steam as Warboss Grimgit killed off the last of his opposition. Imperial forces on Hyperious Beta sent out a plea for help, and the Space Wolves answered. From the sky, the warriors of Fenris fell. Their sudden appearance and swift push into the Orks made for a warzone ripe with confusion and panic. However, the Xenos regrouped after being pressed back to their base in the wilds outside the hive of Regenius. Months of intense fighting lead to the final cornering of Grimgit on his personal Gargant, “Da Belly Bomba.” The press was a hard one. Since this was probably their last mission being Grey Hunters, they wanted to impress their accompanying Wolfguard, Sven. For if they did not, they would no longer have a role on the front line and become Long Fangs. While equally prestigious, their lot was one to wish for the thrills of close combat more-so than mowing the enemy from afar. As such, they cut through the Orks like the Fernesian wolves they share their blood heritage with.

The first loss was Magni. The brother fell to a Mekboy with what appeared to be a modified plasma gun. The liquid hot bolt went through both of the marine’s hearts as he let out a final howl, decapitating his killer before crumpling into a heap. Haakon and Skif were lost when the titanic wrecking ball attached to the contraption blew off from its mount on the shoulder. The ball smashed into the side of the robot and took out most of the scaffolding on it. The brothers were both there wading through the greenskins, and Vilhjamhr saw them bowled over, crushed with countless greenskins having the same fate.

By the time they found Grimgit, they numbered only three with Wolfguard Sven and were staring down a full entourage of nobs guarding the warboss. They repeatedly fired into the nobs until the last minute they could and counter charged the hulking beasts. The nobs only lost four of their number on the run over, and they still hit harder than a Mag train. However, there are few warriors better than the Sons of Russ, and the tide was turning in the marine’s favor. A scream was heard, and brother Ivar was torn in half, spraying blood everywhere. It was obvious that Grimgit himself joined the fight.

The last two nobs were weary, but their fire renewed with the boss’ presence. Sven quickly ended one with his powerfist whilst Vilhjamhr stuck his combat blade into the other’s eye and unloaded his bolter into the Xenos’ chest , causing it to spasm wildly. As Vilhjamhr turned to face the final resistance, Grimgit picked up Erik, his last pack mate, crushed his armor like a can, and threw him over the side of the Gargant as though he were nothing.

“Now Vilhjamhr, while he is distracted!” Sven blurted whilst in full charge. Before Grimgit turned around, the Wolfguard struck the Ork in the back. The Xenos coughed black ichor from his mouth as his breath escaped him. His face immediately twisted in hatred, and he tried to backhand Sven. “Oi! No fair ‘ittin me whilez I be krumpin yer buddies!” The ork swung wildly again, Sven dodged and connected with another powerfist blow. “You will pay for the loss of my brothers, Ork!”

Sven swung to end the Ork, but his fist was caught by Grimgit’s power klaw. The ork laughed, “Ya ain’t gonna get me ya runt.” While Grimgit was distracted with Sven, Vilhjamr had snuck around the combat. He dove onto the back of the warboss’ mega armor. Startled, the Boss crushed Sven’s hand and tossed the marine into a wall. Flailing, Grimgit screamed ‘OI! GIT OFFA ME YA BEAKIE!” Vilhjamr struggled to stay on the dreadnaught sized Ork, and began stabbing blindly at the only open flesh he could find, the greenskin’s head.

It felt like forever. The ork’s poorly constructed armor kept him from reaching Vilhjamr whilst on his back. All the strength he had, he used to stab at the Ork’s skull. It was like stabbing at the hull of a starship, but the rage of losing his pack, and possibly even Sven, kept him going. The Ork slowed his fidgeting, slower and slower. Finally the monster came to a halt, but the wolf kept stabbing until his vengeance was quenched. Grimgit’s head was merely pulp and sinew poking out of its neck. Boyz nearby, not daring to interfere with the fight, started panicking. ‘DA BOSS IS WORM FOOD! LEG IT LADZ!” They ran, all of them. If Vilhjamhr was still a hot headed Blood Claw, he would have given chase. However he was longer in the tooth now and Sven needed aid. The Orks would surely die to his battle brothers’ guns as they retreated.
Once on the company flagship, “Vengeance of Fenris,” Vilhjamhr drank at a lone table in the feasting hall. His brothers would come to congratulate him for killing Warboss Grimgit. But his victory was bittersweet; as such glory came with the loss of his pack. He was now a lone wolf, and had no place with the living, but to seek vengeance for his lost brothers in the glory of a warrior’s death. ‘Thank you brothers,” he would say, “but remember our victorious dead. May they enter Valhalla’s gates with the rest of Russ’ chosen. May I meet them there soon.” He would raise his glass, the others around him doing the same, and they would all drink.

Melancholy was not something the brothers of Redmoon’s company ever expected from Vilhjamhr. He would always be the one to tell a joke, make a boisterous comment, or just be loud in general. All around him knew what grief was, but it was rare for anyone to lose their pack so tragically. They all knew he was steeling himself for the vengeance oaths he would take next time he went to battle. They knew he would be looking for death next time.

The celebration went on for some time before a metal hand smacked Vilhjamhr on the shoulder. “Brother, can I talk to you?” It was Sven, apparently alive and well. “Hmm, it appears the Iron Priests have been busy replacing some missing parts, eh Sven?” Vilhjamhr gave half a grin as he turned. The wolfguard chuckled, “That sounds more like you. Probably the first time since we’ve gotten back that you’ve acted somewhat normal.” Vilhjamhr’s grin quickly escaped, replaced with a forlorn look. Sven shook his shoulder and Vilhjamhr quickly met his gaze. “Stop brooding. Follow me. Gunnar wishes to see you.”

What? Why would the wolf lord want to see him? Whilst the honor of disabling the WAAGHH was his, he did not want to hear any more praise about it; even if it was from the wolf lord’s own lips. But to deny the wolf lord, or leave him waiting, would be disrespectful beyond words. He filled his drinking horn with more ale, stood up and nodded to Sven. “Now I am ready to meet the wolf lord, Wolfguard.” They both chuckled and began walking, drinks in hand.

It was strange the lord was not still in attendance of this celebratory feast, but not unheard of after such a long campaign. He had made his presence known earlier and gave a speech Russ would have drank to. However, he retired early. He proclaimed he was needed elsewhere and apologized to his brethren.

They approached the door to the hall the Wolfguard and Redmoon would plan campaigns in. Sven entered and motioned Vilhjamr to follow. Inside, the Wolf lord was sitting at the head of a round table, his eighteen wolfguard sat along the perimeter. All of them eyed him as he walked in. Sven shut the door behind them.

‘HAIL Vilhjamhr Schawrzfell! Slayer of Grimgit and router of the greenskin threat in the Hyperious system!” Sven cried, raising his drink.
“HAIL!” all the wolfguard and the wolf lord himself replied, raising to their feet, drinks to the ceiling. They all drank and Sven took his seat at the table.
“Lad, why did you not drink? Is your cup empty?” Redmoon asked Vilhjamhr. All the wolfguard chuckled.

“Forgive me wolf lord, as I am in a bit of disbelief. I was not expecting such a greeting from you or the veterans of the company.”

“Aye,” Redmoon concurred, “It’s very rare indeed. Please lad, sit, we need to discuss some opportunities that have presented themselves.” Gunnar motioned to an empty chair next to Sven.
“Lord, I do not possess even half the honor required to sit at such a prestigious pos..”
“I believe I invited you to sit with us,” Gunnar half snarled, “As such I decide if you are worthy of being here. Not you.” The demeanor of the room changed. “Besides, you brought a drink with you. In my book, you are halfway to being wolfguard material!” They all broke out laughing.
Vilhjamhr smiled and took his appointed place at the table. As he walked by each marine, they nodded to eachother out of respect. Sitting down, the cheery mood changed to somewhat serious in a blink of an eye.

Redmoon’s face became mournful. “I have heard some worrisome news. You have lost your pack to a man, have you not?”

Vilhjamhr sadly nodded, ‘Aye lord. I was hoping to meet with the wolf priests. I am thinking of..

The wolf lord raised his hand to silence him. “You may not know this, but I have been following your progress. Wolf priest Siegfried has kept me informed since you were but a whelp. He told me of what you did in the Sea of Insgar to save your kinsmen so many years ago. I was happy to hear you made it back to the fang from the trials, with a wolf pelt none the less. You have has the marking of a great warrior since the beginning. You have also fought more xenos than some of the men in this room. Not to say they are less of warriors than yourself.” He looked around, reassuring his men.

‘I know you plan to take the Oath of a Glorious Death. A blind grox could see that. I know, as it is something I myself would do if I was in your situation. Am I right?” The wolf lord took another swig while he awaited an answer.

‘Wolf lord, I now wish to find death in glorious battle like my brothers have. They are no longer here for me, and I will use my vengeance to kill those who would dare harm others of our company. I am displaced, and a wolf with no pack can only seek death.”

Redmoon pondered the answer. “Vilhjamhr, if you were any normal Grey Hunter, I would certainly honor your request. But what you lack in tactical experience, you have gained in understanging how to battle xenos.” The lord stood up with his drinking horn and began walking around the table.

‘I cannot have you looking for death now. No.” Redmoon paused, and then began slowly walking again. “I have been hailed by others who are looking for someone like you. The Deathwatch is recruiting in this area, and I think your experiences with the various xenos you have fought make you a perfect candidate. Well, that and you’re one of our eldest Grey Hunters.”

His pace was slow and with purpose around the table.”You portray some of the best our chapter has to offer. So I propose this; you take your fury to the enemies of the Imperium through the Deathwatch. Go, fight alongside the fellow chapters. Teach them what you can from your experiences and show them why the wolves of Fenris are not to be underestimated. For this, I promise you a seat on my wolfguard when you come back. Yes, when you come back. And when you do, we will drink in another celebration.”

Redmoon was right beside Vilhjamhr. He looked down at the Grey Hunter and grinned, ‘Well, what say you Vilhjamhr?”

Vilhjamhr stood, “If you’ll share a drink with me right now, Aye wolf lord.”

Redmoon laughed, “Only one? We have but the night to drink away!”

The room roared in approval and all drank to the agreement.

Many hours later, a black thunderhawk with a large inquisitorial “I” docked with the “Vengeance of Fenris.” It left with one more passenger than it came with; one with renewed purpose and vigor.

So, we of Redmoon’s company await the return of our packmate to this day. The Deathwatch is a secretive group, and only Gunnar himself knows exactly what is happening with out brother.

Vilhjamhr Schwarzfell

Know Thy Enemy, Destroy Thy Enemy Billy_Bob