I feel like Cato Sicarius, the more lore they write about Lysander, the worse the character gets. They just keep adding grim growling to the character, and then are surprised when they're just a grim growly man growling grimly. Lysander went from the 1st Company Captain of the Fists, a Chapter renown for their cooperation with other Imperial forces, to a man who openly declared and let his brothers die to Iron Warriors before he would accept aid from the Blood Angels and Ultramarines. And that's not heroic or even stubbornness, its non-sensical melodrama for grim dark sake and I find it lacking. Chapters want to win on their own strengths, sure, but its something different to prefer defeat, sacrificing geneseed and wargear to be pillaged by traitors, before accepting help from chapters they're historically BFFs with.
The Imperial fist looked over the horizon and saw the vile, twisted war engines of the Iron Warriors roll over top the distant hill and into the valley. The Sergeant, clad in new Centurion Armor simply checked his storm bolter atop the walled fortifications and thought to himself. “These fools never learn, we’ve beat them back 10,000 times, and it’s time to make it 10,001.”
‘In the name of the Emperor most high! In the name of Rogal Dorn! All the hate you have drunk from my people, all the suffering you have wrought, I now repay!’ ‘I wonder,’ said Lysander, ‘how far would be too far, in the name of victory.’ ‘How many dead would be too many?’ said Kaderic. It was not what Lysander had meant. He had been thinking of all the deeds that had brought him so close to the abyss, the deals and the alliances with the powers of Malodrax. But Kaderic, like all the Imperial Fists, did not need to know how close Lysander had come. ‘How many dead,’ agreed Lysander. ‘How many of our Chapter’s futures erased before they happen? To take command means many things, but above all it means making that choice. If a path leads to victory, but is littered with the dead, do we take it? That is what a captain of the Chapter must decide.’ ‘Then when the choice must be made,’ said Kaderic, ‘what will you do, Lysander, for victory?’ Lysander looked again at Halaestus, then at Lycaon, and all the faces of the dead on Malodrax. ‘Anything,’ he said. 'The raw stuff of the stars poured down the walls, liquid fire like multicoloured lava spewing from the molten emotions of the warp. Bodies writhed in the fire, naked and contorted. Hands reached blindly. Disintegrating human forms rose like ash above a fire, screaming as they merged with the flames rippling along the ceiling. The walls of fire seemed to be held in place with chains, the iron glowing red in the heat. The floor was a mass of charred bones and red scorched bodies, the living writhing through the ashes of the dead. Serpentine creatures, with boneless limbs that whipped and coiled, lashed the figures immolated in the walls and columns of fire, leaping in a frantic dance from victim to victim. Torrents of flame poured through rents in the ceiling, or burst in geysers from the floors below. Madmen gibbered prophecies even as they burned. Those who could move gouged at their eyes or tore out their entrails. Those who could not were broken and misshapen by straining against the spiked chains that transfixed them in place. Lysander had seen such scenes before. They were always different, for Chaos could not do its work in the same way twice. But they were always made of madness, the expression of the fools and maniacs who had given in to the warp’s promises. It was human madness, not yet the full insanity of the warp. It was human evil, and Lysander had fought his way through human evils for centuries. ‘Brothers!’ yelled Lysander as he drew his thunder hammer, the Fist of Dorn, from its scabbard on the back of his Terminator armour. ‘Here the Enemy lurks, ignorant of his death! Let us educate him! Let the Emperor’s cold wrath extinguish this pyre!’ Lysander’s squad, along with Emperor’s Champion Ucalegon, forged through the fire in Lysander’s footsteps. It was indeed like fighting through a funeral pyre. Lysander’s armour heated up, the joints scorching. Bolter fire snapped at the daemons who danced through the flames - whip-fast, like sea creatures disturbed by a predator, they flitted into hiding. ‘Who will face the Hand of the Emperor?’ yelled Ucalegon above the screaming of the damned. ‘Is there a champion of your gods who will test himself against this blade, or does the warp vomit forth only cowards?’ The answer came in the form of burning hands that tore out from the cataracts of flame. They belonged to serpentine daemons that slithered through the fire. They had a dozen eyes each, smouldering deep-crimson scales, and they drooled sizzling venom from mouths full of asymmetrical fangs. ‘Fast drill!’ yelled Lysander. ‘Volley fire and advance!’ Almost before the first trigger finger was down, the daemons were among the Imperial Fists. They tried to wrap their snake-like bodies around the Space Marines to crush and burn them. Bolter fire shredded many, but others slipped through the gunfire as if they barely existed in real space at all. A daemon whipped through the flames towards Lysander, fast and straight as an arrow. Lysander crunched the Fist of Dorn into its ribs, its own momentum driving the head of the hammer into its body. Lysander slammed his storm shield into the daemon and drove it into the floor with enough force to flatten its body. ‘Forward!’ yelled Lysander. ‘Forward!’ ‘Pierce the heart!’ echoed Ucalegon, who was already kicking free of a daemon’s coils and pushing on through the walls of flame. The black sword reflected the fires so it glowed orange in his hands, like a shard of the sun...' - Brother Captain Lysander, Brother Champion Ucalegon and Imperial Fist's Chapter 1 Company Veterans during the War on Ophis. 'Lysander stepped out just as Syncella passed, and could not keep the feeling of satisfaction from his mind as he felt her slam into his storm shield. The woman did not fall. She rolled as she fell, coming up in a low, dangerous crouch, power knife in hand, her lips drawn back in a look of feline rage. Lysander bit down on the ice rising in him, keeping it from filling up his veins. ‘I faced an Untouchable on Fortis Magna,’ he said. He teeth were clenched with the effort. ‘It was an abomination. It was an affront to the very soul. The closest I ever came to giving in to fear. But I overcame. I killed him. And now your favourite trick has failed.’ Syncella growled and stalked to one side, circling Lysander. The waves of anti-emotion coming off her faltered a little, a ripple running through them, as she refocused on a new enemy. ‘We are alone on this mountaintop,’ said Lysander. ‘Your men are assailed by my battle-brothers and soon they will die.’ ‘I am nothing,’ she said. ‘Even now my best agent takes your brothers in his sights…’ ‘I saw you fleeing your ship!’ retorted Lysander. ‘I knew you were the one. You cannot hide the trappings of an Assassin. Not many of my brothers have witnessed the ways of the Culexus Temple, but I have.’ ‘And now you are going to kill me,’ said Syncella, ‘because that is what you do. You are no more sophisticated a weapon than the mindless souls who do my bidding. At least they do not claim to be anything more.’ She darted forwards as fast as a bullet. Lysander jumped forwards to meet her and deflected the power knife off his shield. He swept the Fist of Dorn around to trip her up but she spun in the air as she leapt over it, landing behind him. ‘Unless,’ she said, ‘you want answers.’ ‘It is not a case of wanting anything,’ said Lysander. ‘I will have them.’ Syncella leapt backwards and powered off the stone spur behind her, diving at Lysander from above. Lysander held his shield up but Syncella had read the movement before he made it. She hit the ground just in front of him, knife flicking up towards his abdomen. Lysander had read her, too. He did not have the room to bring the Fist of Dorn to bear, so he cracked the back of his fist into the side of her head. Syncella sprawled away across the stone. Lysander stepped after her and brought the Fist of Dorn down towards her. She rolled to one side as the hammer’s head fell and smashed a crater into the mountaintop. Splinters of stone fell. ‘How long since someone laid a hand on you?’ said Lysander. ‘What are you? A Grand Master of the Assassinorum? How long since you faced someone who could defeat you?’ Syncella touched a hand to her face. She was bleeding. ‘It seems that every day, I face a foe who can beat me,’ said Lysander. ‘One who can hurt me. But not one of them has done for me yet. That is why I call myself a soldier, and not an Assassin.’ ‘I am Lady Syncella of the Culexus! And I thank you, Captain Lysander. I have not felt a hostile hand on me for three hundred years. I had forgotten what it really was to fight.’ ‘Then tell me why you brought war to Opis,’ said Lysander. ‘Or I will teach you what it means to lose.’ ‘Stop killing my men, Lysander, and perhaps I will be minded to talk.’ For a moment the two faced one another, every muscle wound up ready to pounce. Then Lysander switched to the all-squads vox. ‘Cease fire, brothers! Cease fire! Put up your swords!’ - Brother Captain Lysander vs Lady Syncella Grand Master of the Culexus Temple.
Early for an Imperial Fists video? *FORTIFYING INTENSIFIES* Glad to finally get a video on Lysander, I've been wondering when I'd see a lore reading on him!
@@baldermort good enuf i sayz. None of dem humies i getz thinkin' stuff from has opened their gob 'bout Gork and Mork, and a right and propah problem dat is.
@@baldermort pretty much why Orks are my favorite faction. just for the insanity of it all. not to mention, the odd fact that Tuska Daemon-killa seems to get the only "happy" ending im aware of, and he's stuck on Khorne's throneworld in perpetual war against Khorne's Generals. mind you, thats happy in the Ork definition, since anyone else would consider that hell. but, you know, Ork.
Awesome vid as always. Just thought i'd like a video on Earthshaker canons from the Imperial Guard, i find them so cool and i can remember kid me having goosebumps at the french voiceline when using them with Basilisk canons in Dawn of War. ^^ if there isn't already one of course !
The man too angry to die. Too fortified to be corrupted. I don't care what GW says, this man is prime Primarus material. You're telling me after all hes been through he wouldn't just...walk off the Rubicon with a snort and say "The Iron Warriors did WORSE."
cool vid. the new intro is cool but it can kinda take away from the narrative a bit. Starts off all up beat and then goes to a more personal/lowkey feel which can leave the video feel a bit uneven. Short lore info its cool but when u want to go all epic and tell a long story I think the old way of just easing into like a grim dark fireside chat is more effective. Works well for fast paced stories battles like the vigilius story but wouldnt have worked as well for the more emotive stories like the longest second if that makes sense. huge thumbs up and thanks for making these
He is also outright insane in his believe that no price is to steep in stoping chaos so he is willing to sacrifice a lot. Almost too much, some will say. Which is great for the ruinous powers.
I, Cato Sicarius of the glorious Ultramarines chapter, have met Darnath Lysander. My reaction upon meeting Captain Lysander was a resounding: "Meh". Lysander may be considered a champion amongst the Imperial Fists, but he would hardly be fit to hold my--Cato Sicarius'--ceramite jock-strap. So say I, Cato Sicarius, purveyor of all things true and humble.
Baldermort, we've got youtubers proclaiming themselves wolf lords and chapter masters of the imperial fists. Which chapter would you owe your allegiance to? Top content as always.
chungus disciple I’m not tough enough. I’d be a serf or a servo skull maximum. Iterator if I was groomed within an inch of my life and was half my age. Sorry. I love the RP but in reality I’d not last two seconds in the grim darkness. Waaaay too Much of a carebear these days. ;)
@@baldermort with your voice and love of the lore you would definitely be a remembrancer of the highest caliber. Never sell yourself short brother Baldemort. Thank you for all you do for our humble community of gentle listeners for we love you with all our grimdark hearts.
Lysander....soon his name shall be joined by another future hero and son of Lord Adornable...Boy from TTS!!!! I'd like to see how well Lysander can swing a voxcaster! ;)
Baldermort's Guide to Warhammer yes sir! just wanted to say out of all the lore channels you are my favorite. you really do a good job, so be proud of that. i also love you enthusiasm in battle reports and you actually are the reason i started collecting instead of just reading lore. so hats of to you brother
Fantastic lore, I am ashamed to say I didn't even know this guy existed and I love the Fist. Thank you Baldermort, and I am very excited for the big story coming up!
It's official you on the 40k equivalent of Bob Ross the moment you started speaking I got very calm feeling I guess you just have one of those voices like Morgan Freeman or as I mentioned before Bob Ross I recommend you do a video on rylanor a.k.a the ancient of Rites Because he is honestly one of the most badass dreadnoughts I've ever heard about honestly probably my favourite Dreadnought the funny thing is I'm a ultramarine fan and I like this guy he's just that cool Lysander: to be as strong as the phalanx I must *become* the phalanx
Dear uncle, don't let Slaanesh hold your quill. Take all the time you need to write those tales that you want, but do not let the grasping claws of obsession wrest the fun from you.
Well, today I had a rather horrible and demoralizing day. It is good then that I saved this video to the end, so that I may give my mind a slight respite with what the bald one would call sweet escapism. If anyone is reading this, I hope you have a good day.
