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[Zelderex] Vandun Dorilius; Now an actual aplication
Topic Started: Feb 23 2009, 08:58 PM (44 Views)
Zelderex
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General Information

Full Name: Vandun Dorlius
Codename or Alias: Brother Dorlius
Gender:Male
Age: 103
How old is your character?
Place Of Birth: A small planet known only as Cx 83 gY, known by Vandun as hell.
Occupation/Status: Assault Ultramarine
Alignment Loyalist
Factions: Ultramarines
Canon Or Original?: Original
psychic potency: 5
Weapons/Items: Chainsword Mk. Xf Hell's Teeth pattern for those who don't know what it looks like Posted Image
bolt pistol, MkIII

Appearance

Visual Appearance: Posted Image

Physical Appearance:
7'5, of muscular, space marine build, shaved brown hair, light brown eyes, no facial hair. You'll find numerous large cuts across his legs and arms. Other large scars go across his chest, and one is right above is left eye. There are also small scars across his cheeks and the side of his head.

Clothing and Armor: Above, dozens of passages from holy books and the codex astartes are etched into all his gear.


General Personality:
Vandun shares the cold calm of other marines, with the exception of his madness. He has mostly recovered, though can be angered with little difficulty. Some worry he will fall to chaos, though Vandun would sooner take his own life.
General: easily angered, devout,
Likes: Space Marines, Swords
Dislikes: Heretics, tribes(Men), Feral worlds, slavers
Fears: His Home World, Other Desert/feral worlds seem to put him on edge, jumpy, and on the verge of screaming out in madness.



Character's History
Vandun was found on a small, feral world in a long forgotten, possibly Tyranid controlled, or destroyed planet in the Segementum Ultima. He was found covered in blood, unconscious, with a broken sword in his hand. He was surrounded by bodies of various sorts, humans, creatures, Heretics.
Only vague flashes of memory come to him, though these are the events prior to his discovery by a Scout of the Ultramarines.
Vandun was a slave. Not a worker, or other such, but a warrior slave. He fought both for his tribe and in an arena. He was known for skill with a blade, and his ferocity. His favored tactic was to charge and behead his foe before they could react. Similar to an assault marine as he now knows.
He almost never brought a shield, using a two handed sword, one one hander, or two weapons if possible. His light armor worn into the arena was suicidal, but then again, so was he. All he sought was freedom, freedom from the arena, freedom from the tribes, and freedom from the tribal gods in there warlike ways.
When some wayward preachers landed on the planet, Vandan wished he could see them. Hear their ways. But he could not. And every day he lost more of his sanity.
Eventually, when he was 23. he went mad. Totally mad. When he was given his blade before the fight one day, he never made it to the field.
He had beheaded a guard, and gutted several more. By the time he was out, at least a dozen guards had died by his hands.
He wandered about the desert world, searching for shelter. Whenever he stopped he heard rumors of demon possessed mutants, and thought nothing of it. Then, he fought one. He expected it to have fangs and wings, instead it was a man, a warped, twisted, hellish man. But a man. The bastard shot bolts of lightning, and brought his insanity to a breaking point.
The next thing he remembered, the man was dead, with no throat in his neck. Vandun wandered more, killing beasts and tribesmen everywhere.
Eventually, he got caught in a Vinsk nest, feral hunting cats... being rode by the heretics. Using his blade (And others he picked up after he broke his) he cut down the bastards by the dozen. His wounds meant nothing to him. A broken arm was not felt, a gash in his leg not minded. Somehow he felled all of them, eventually suspecting the beasts of killing each other as well.
When he was found by scouts for the Ultramarines nearly a day later, there regarding chaos presence. He was brought into medical, anyone who at least survived that fight had earned some respect. When he later told his story, he was accepted as a Scout, what he had done was at least worth the trials needed to join. He was first taught the ways of the Emperor, then had the Gene seed implanted. Since then he has mostly regained his sanity, helped by the gene seed. And seen countless battles on countless worlds, against The Heretic, The Xenos, and every damn foe of the Imperium.



Role Play Sample:
In a low, grassy pass fire was being exchanged. About one hundred ravager chaos marines and some five hundred cultists of Khorne surged towards the Ultramarine blockade.
Vandun's squad lept about the enemy lines, land, fight for a few seconds, jump. A lather rinse repeat type process.
The man came to the ground in loose formation, the rest of his squad a couple yards apart. Flipping the selector on his bolt pistol to full auto, he let loose. Four or five cultists fell, in addition to one Chaos marine. Vandun gave the order to jump, "Brothers, to the air! Land near the chaos marine with the heavy bolter, ready your blades!' Vandun shouted, he shouted and screamed for annihilation. Chainsword at the ready he came to a crash, the teeth of the weapon biting into armor with a scream of anger and destruction. Vandun let loose a full clip of bolts into the head of a nearby chaos marine, then bludgeoned a cultist with the pistol. "Jump, towards the cluster of raptors, weapons ready." "Positive" came the reply from the men. With a nod, he landed.

When he touched down, Chaos scum already shot at him. With a snarl of rage Vandun beheaded a raptor, then cut several cultists in two. The battle was drawing to a close, the chaos marines and cultists ripped apart by heavy bolter fire. "Jump, fire as you go, full auto!" Came the order from Vandun's lips, he didn't realize it at first, but jumped with a howl of rage. When his bolt pistol ran dry he decided to land, on cultist. "Brother, lesser Daemons to the north," came the notification from a squaddie via Vox.''Acknowledged, move towards them."

There were about three dozen blood letters, at least seven had died before the marines hit the ground. Vandun shrugged of the beasts blades and cultists las rounds, though the man who had alerted him to the Daemon presence was not so lucky. Daemons swarmed around him, bolts clanging into his skull. Upon seeing his brother die Vandun snarled with rage, "The bastards shall pay a thousandfold for the death of a Space Marine!"screamed out Vandun, believing he had only thought it, not screamed it to the heavens, his voice thick with murder.

As he sprinted towards the bloodletters he saw but three colors, the red of blood and the damned, the blue of astartes, the gold of retribution and vengeance. Bringing his sword into the head of a daemon seemed to ease his wrath.

Something hit him, he fell over. He felt calm, calm at last. He looked around as best he could from on the ground, bloodletters corpses littering the green fields, only a dozen chaos astartes remained, retreating. The battle was won, then Vandun slipped unconscious.
He awoke several hours later aboard the battle barge, he'd suffered a nasty clubbing to the head. He was ready again for battle in but a day, though he prayed to have some time to enjoy calm nerves.
Edited by Zelderex, Mar 1 2009, 09:36 AM.
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