Renegade knights codex 8th edition pdf download vk

Competitive Innovations in 9th: Liminal State. Competitive Innovations in 9th: Last Orders pt. Halo Infinite: The Foundations of a Franchise. Vanguard Tactics Terrain, Reviewed. Goonhammer is Selling Out! Welcome to the New Goonhammer. Something wicked and extremely large this way comes. After being forced to limp along with Index entries, Chaos Knights got thrown a very paltry bone last year with the Renegade Knights mini-codex, which gave them access to a warlord trait and a pair of stratagems.

Well no more! With the release of the Chaos Knights Codex, Chaos has been granted its own suite of warlord traits, relics, subfactions, and stratagems to flesh out its own knights, as well as a new dual kit with extremely sick digitigrade legs and a new gun. So is this new Codex a meta-warping, game-changing monster? Or full of dull entries into the Chaos unit stable?

The Chaos Knights Codex revises the content from the Chapter Approved update of the Renegade Knights Codex and adds two new units, both of which are built from the new Chaos Knight Dual kit: The Rampager, a close-combat knight armed with a Reaper Chainsword and Thunderstrike Gauntlet, and the Knight Desecrator, which comes armed with a Las Destructor and a close combat weapon of your choice. In total, that gives Chaos Knights two more options than loyalists, plus more customisation on their standard knights.

Unlike Imperial Knights, where a lot of the variety and customisation came from the wide spread of faction traits available to them, Chaos Knights have been grouped into just two larger buckets that grant more flexibility within them. On top of this, you can declare some of your Knights to be Dreadblades, the equivalent of Imperial Freeblades. Each of these offer you some quite different benefits to turbo-charge your gigantic spike-bot.

Iconoclast Households are designed for people who want to charge their Knights straight at the enemy and reap a terrible toll in close combat. Their Ambition trait gives them two benefits in the first round of combat when they charge, get charged or heroically intervene. The first is an additional attack, which is always nice to have, but we would argue that the second benefit, improving the AP of their weapons by one, is the real bonus.

These combine to makes a spectacular difference to damage output against some important targets. The other unique trick that Iconoclasts have is access to a set of three Stratagems that can be used pre-game up to once each, and only one on each knight to apply a game-long buff to one of your Knights. These are:. The opportunity cost for Chaos to have this in their toolkit is way lower, and that makes it extremely good.

Vow of the Beastslayer is a tiny bit less exciting than the others, but more options are basically always good. This is a bit underwhelming — for 2CP you can re-roll hits for all Iconoclasts attacking a given charged target in the fight phase. This is fine , but Trail of Destruction can do the same thing for a single Knight at the same cost, so for this to be worth it you need to have slammed multiple Knights into a target tough enough for you to need to use this.

War Dogs are a different story — the Iconoclast Ambition turbo-charges Warglaives while doing nothing for Helverins. Warglaives have already been growing in popularity in Imperial lists, and we think this might be where they hit the big time — the ambition is exceptional on them, and adding them unlocks it for bigger Knights.

The choices are:. War Dog Helverins get a very nice boost from this — pushing one of their guns to S8 and a ridiculous damage four is worth a bit of pain and the resulting extra faff when it comes to resolving their shots. We have to assume Infernal War Dogs have a terribly unbalanced work out regime, as every last one of them has one Trogdor-like beefy arm carrying a souped up glowing autocannon, while the other looks a bit limp in comparison.

Well, Wings with horror, TheChirurgeon with sadistic glee. Luckily, none of the Infernal strats are tied up in pre-game buffs, and three of the four are pretty spicy:. Our review team is split on whether Infernal or Iconoclast Knights make out better, but we can both agree that these stratagems are extremely good, and give Infernals a good bit of depth. Dreadblades have access to Pacts and Damnations. At the start of the game, each Dreadblade can either choose a Pact or roll for two, and must either select two Damnations to go with it or roll for one.

At the start of each turn, a Dreadblade has to roll 2D6; if they roll under their Leadership value, they ignore their Damnations for a turn. Damnations Note that these are only active for the turn after you fail a Leadership test. Codex: Death Guard. This digital edition is supplied as an ePub3 file.

It is a complete and unabridged version in a full-colour, fixed-layout format, which can be conveniently viewed on your phone or tablet with quick-link contents allowing you to jump instantly to the section you want to read Grand Alliance Death.

Die eigene Buddhanatur ist nicht zu verstehen, sondern zu verwirklichen! Download: Codex 9th - Death Guard. Dodaj go jako pierwszy! Inne foldery z plikami do pobrania. There could be a new Imperial Guard Codex in 2 months, or a year.

Although we strive to ensure that our rules are perfect, sometimes mistakes do creep in, or the intent of a rule isn't as clear as it might be. These documents. Death guard codex 8th edition pdf download free for windows Tau 8th edition codex Food chemicals codex 8th edition.

The others are in their 8th Edition iteration - in most cases they'll work just fine, but some discretion may be required. However, if you summon a unit of Daemons and.. Siege of Vraks - Part One, for use in games using the sixth edition Warhammer 40, rules. These documents collect amendments to the rules and present our responses to players' frequently asked questions.

As they're updated regularly, each has a version number; when changes are made, the. Our large roster still absolutely allows us to play competitively in 9th even without a new codex.

GW has even confirmed the first six 9th Edition Codexes releases out to Taking a look back to the start of. Download Salamander Codex Warhammer 40k Pdf Categories Top Downloads. Login Register Upload. Share Embed. Report this link. Chaos codex pdf With the 9th Edition Warhammer 40k Constitution new versions teased out to , take a look at this map that covers nearly four years!

The 9th edition is in full swing, and now even the recitals are. GW has even confirmed the first six versions of the 9th Edition Constitution to Taking a look back at the beginning of. Warhammer 40k 8th edition codex pdf Continue. Welcome to one battlefield, we never thought we'd see. Welcome to a place that was once considered impossible. Welcome to the 42nd millennium. The Warhammer 40, 8th edition also known as Warhammer The Age of the Emperor for rumourmongers is the newest edition of everyone's favorite war game that picks up things where the Gathering Storm.

Enemy engines of war are annihilated by swift-striking spearheads of airborne Vertus Praetors, while heretical demagogues and roaring monstrosities alike fall beneath the blades of the Allarus Terminators. For years uncounted the Legio Custodes, as they were known then, covered themselves in glory. Yet it was at the culmination of that epochal conflict that the Custodians knew defeat at last. They have carried the crushing shame and dishonour of doing so with them through all the millennia since.

By the time the foe realise their cause is hopeless, it is far too late. The only option left to the enemy to flee in dismay, and even then death is all but guaranteed. Such is the fate of those who dare to oppose the will of the Emperor. Now, instead, the Custodians were charged with protecting what remained of their beloved Emperor at any cost. They donned shrouds of mourning black as a symbol of their disgrace, a sombre raiment that they would not shed for many millennia.

For thousands of years, the Adeptus Custodes have stood vigil. Thanks to the remarkable gene-craft involved in their creation, these warriors do not age as other men, and so barring catastrophic physical trauma, they are functionally immortal.

With many Custodians being well over one thousand years old, they have had endless opportunity to perfect their skills, further their education across every lore and discipline, and hone their tactics so as to be ready for every eventuality. Now, with the awakening of the Ultramarines Primarch Roboute Guilliman and his reinstating as Lord Commander of the Imperium, and the opening of the apocalyptic Great Rift, that time has finally come.

Chaos-worshipping Renegades and howling tides of Daemons spill from warp storms all across the galaxy. Even the Sol System is assailed, the greatest enemies of Mankind coming within striking distance of Holy Terra itself. The threats to the Golden Throne are now so widespread and dire that they must be stamped out pre-emptively, before they have a chance to fully manifest. Thus, while a standing garrison of Custodians remain upon the throneworld to defend their master, dozens of shield companies have set out into the stars to take the fight directly to those who would once again prove them derelict in their duty.

With them they bring the fury of the Emperor himself, sharpened by ten thousand years of preparation. Of course, this is not the only war that the Adeptus Custodes have mobilised for since the Heresy. Such battles grind on even as the Ten Thousand sweep out to rend the traitor and the heretic all across known space. Like the Imperium as a whole, the Adeptus Custodes face opposition on every front. Upon the killing fields of Hydraphur, the Black Legion advanced in great and fearsome number.

Yet though the heretics put all other Imperial servants to flight, they could not overcome the Adeptus Custodes, and against that living bastion of auramite their charge broke. During the Dark Age of Technology, the human race was almost annihilated by its own hubris. Science and technology advanced at a breathtaking pace, enabling the conquest of increasingly far-flung planets.

Thinking machines and the development of ever more esoteric weapons and transportation technologies played their part, but the single greatest factor to drive this expansion was the ability — and the reckless will — to manipulate human genetics.

Utterly certain of their own primacy, scientist-kings and techno-demagogues followed every strand of curiosity and exercised powers of creation that made them seem like gods. Ultimately, their hubris led them to catastrophe, and onwards to the very brink of extinction. Worlds were overrun by bloody uprisings within their own populations, much of which were mutated beyond sanity and recognition.

Gene-wars consumed entire star systems, while a psychic apocalypse drowned the stars in fire. The vast empire of Humanity was shattered amidst horror and anarchy, and the oppressive shroud of Old Night settled over all.

At the heart of this galactic disaster lay Terra, transformed from a glittering jewel to an apocalyptic hellscape by forbidden weapons and biological atrocities. Yet though its people fell into darkness and ignorance, many of the technologies that had led them to ruin survived, sealed away in hidden bunkers and biomantic crypts.

Sure enough, as Humanity clawed its way back from the brink beneath the lashes of cruel warlords, so those selfappointed rulers discovered the weapons of old and tried once again to turn them upon one another. Terra faced the threat of a second apocalypse as gene-bred barbarians and ghastly fleshstitched ghouls made war at the behest of madmen, fanatics and techno-cannibalistic murderers. I was still as a statue, but always ready, always attuned to dangers unseen. Days, months, years passed by in a frenzied blur beyond those walls, yet within, little moved and nothing changed.

For one hundred years I did naught but wait, yet had any threat appeared, I would have struck it down in a heartbeat. For one hundred years I stood my watch, and as it ends I can tell you this — patience is a weapon. It was this ancient and dangerous bounty, coupled with his own incredible and unfathomable powers, that allowed the Emperor to fashion warriors with which to unite a world. That task was not a simple one, and though the Emperor sought peace for Humanity, he could not achieve his aims without war.

It is known, by the most learned of Imperial Historitors, that the living weapons the Emperor used for his early conquests were the Thunder Warriors. By the time the Thunder Warriors learned of their own disposable nature, the Emperor had set his sights on grander ambitions, and created the first of the beings that would become his Space Marines.

The years that followed saw the Great Crusade surge forth from the cradle of Humanity to reclaim the galaxy. Gathering pace with the technological aid of the Martian Mechanicum, the crusade forces spilled out into the void, billions upon billions of Imperial Army soldiers, proud warships, Space Marine Legions and countless other forces setting sail to reunite the stellar empire of Mankind.

The truth is hidden in fragments of the past, accounts of figures appearing in crude hieroglyphs and cave etchings, stasis-locked scads of parchment and gene-sealed tomes that no man now can open.

They held back the baying flesh-packs of the transnordic reaver tribes while the Emperor slew their bloated meat-god. Custodian blades took the head of Gharsha the Decryer, pierced the heart of the Ur-queen of Atlan, and drove back the iron fiends on the red fields of Primasalia. Or at least, so the dying echoes of history suggest.

In those early days the Emperor was at the forefront of the expansion, even as his Primarch sons were rediscovered one by one and the crusade fleets became ever more scattered and autonomous in their operation. Wherever the Emperor went, there too strode the Legio Custodes, an unstoppable golden army now ten thousand strong. To them went the finest weapons and armour, and all the accumulated wealth of archeotechnological secrets unearthed by the crusading armies upon ancient human worlds.

Alongside such esoterica as anti-gravitic battle tanks and terrifyingly potent disintegration rays, the Custodians also had access to the very best tried-and-tested Imperial tools of war. Their Land Raiders possessed the most exceptional and bellicose machine spirits.

Their bolt weaponry, power blades and heavy weapons were all individually handcrafted by the greatest artisans the Imperium had to offer, as befitted such august and sublimely skilled warriors. In the last years of the Unification Wars, the Thunder Warriors at last realised that their creator had cursed them with short lifespans, and turned upon him for what they saw as his betrayal. With those last relic forces purged in a ruthless act of barbarity worthy of culminating the Age of Strife, Terra could at last be pronounced unified, and the Emperor could turn his gaze to the stars for the benefit of all Mankind.

Led to war by the Master of Mankind himself, they were the bane of every foe. Yet they would soon face their sternest and most tragic test. It is said that the golden-armoured giants of the Legio Custodes were the right hand of the Emperor, while the eerie witch-hunting nulls of the Silent Sisterhood were his left.

Together they represent the Talons of the Emperor. In an act of grossest betrayal, fully half of the Space Marine Primarchs turned against their father and began a civil war more ferocious than anything Mankind had ever endured. This was the Horus Heresy, and it would see tragedy wrought on a galactic scale. By the machinations of the Dark Gods of Chaos, they were scattered across the cosmos before they had fully formed, and so were reunited with their father — and the Space Marine Legions made in their image — piecemeal as the Great Crusade came to the worlds upon which they had fallen.

Arguably the greatest of their number was Horus Lupercal. It was Horus whom the Emperor named Warmaster in the wake of the Triumph at Ullanor, charging his gene-son with commanding the Great Crusade in his stead while he and his Custodians returned to Terra to complete new and secret works. H eracal swept his guardian spear in a tight arc. Blood fountained, its colour rich red. Heracal raised one foot and kicked the swaying corpse in its midriff, sending it tumbling after its cranium.

The Custodian scowled as two more traitors appeared at the bottom of the stairwell, clad in the panoply of the Sons of Horus. He levelled his guardian spear and let fly, directing a hail of bolt shells into the turncoats.

One of them was blasted backwards, his chest-plate reduced to wreckage. A lesser warrior might have gloated, glorying in his supremacy. The tragic events of the Horus Heresy — a full account of which would take more than a lifetime to relate — were cataclysmic in the extreme, sundering the nascent Imperium and leaving it to burn in the fires of treachery. It is notable that while the Space Marine Legions battled furiously against one another — and the Imperial Army and Mechanicum tore themselves to shreds with internecine conflict — the Legio Custodes were strangely absent for much of the fighting.

The few records that survive from that dark time provide only hints as to why that might have been, alluding to the existence of another, terrible war that took place beyond the sight of the wider Imperium, one that only the Adeptus Custodes had any chance of winning. These were the Razing of Prospero, arguably the first battle of that dreadful era, and the Siege of Terra. The attack on Prospero came even before Horus tipped his hand in open rebellion. It was intended to be an act of censure, a punishment for the sorcerous Primarch Magnus the Red and his wayward Thousand Sons Legion.

Upon their distant home world of Prospero the Thousand Sons had recklessly continued the use of psychic powers and empyric meddling in direct defiance of the Edict of Nikaea. None know for sure what finally forced the Emperor to intervene, but fragmentary sources tell of some psychic catastrophe on Terra, and an inescapable link to the powers of Magnus himself.

Whatever the truth, Constantin Valdor and his Legio Custodes were charged with leading a force to Prospero Another moment and he was at the northern arch, firelight and smoke spilling through it along with the din of battle. Heracal drew up shoulder to shoulder with Artoris, whose gold armour was drenched in the blood of the foe. Every shot they fired was perfectly placed. As blood sprayed and Legiones Astartes corpses crashed to the ground, Heracal felt a stern determination and unflinching conviction within him.

So exceptional a warrior was Valdor that it is said he could even have matched a Primarch in a contest of blades. It is said that Constantin Valdor epitomised all that it means to be one of the Adeptus Custodes.

Stoic, watchful, fiercely intelligent and — when required — a truly inspirational leader, Valdor was a true hero of the Imperium who never once faltered in his duty. Since their earliest days the Custodians had always borne the Magisterium Lex Ultima, a mark of office that made them answerable only to the Emperor himself.

Yet never before had they been charged with exercising its authority for such a daunting task. Still, Valdor did not shirk from his duty. The aftermath of the events on Prospero was one of bewilderment and uncertainty. During that titanic siege, the Legio Custodes fought alongside the loyalist Legions to defend the Emperor and his palace. They showed no mercy to the turncoat Space Marines.

They did not waver, even as megatonnes of explosive death rained from the burning skies, even as daemonic abominations spilled through the veil of reality and renegade Titans hammered the palace walls with city-levelling weaponry. Valdor and his Ten Thousand fought valiantly during that nightmarish battle, driving back one offensive after another. Despite their heroics, and to the eternal shame of the Legio Custodes, they failed in their ultimate duty.

All through the Siege of Terra, Horus watched from his orbiting flagship, the Vengeful Spirit, coordinating the final battle from afar. Why he did this, none 11 can say. Perhaps he simply wished to face the Emperor before the end, and to strike his father down by his own hand. Despite the best efforts of the Custodians, they could not overcome the unnatural might of Horus.

Only the Emperor was able to defeat his rebellious gene-son, but the victory came at a terrible cost. The Master of Mankind would be consigned to the Golden Throne forever more, its sustaining technologies keeping him on the threshold of life.

So enthroned, his immense psychic power continues to guide and protect the loyal people of the Imperium — should he ever perish, Mankind would surely follow soon after. They donned mourning black, for theirs was a shame and a failing that they sought neither to forget nor be absolved of.

For ten thousand years the Adeptus Custodes have stood guard over the Golden Throne. In that time, not a single enemy has gained access to the Sanctum Imperialis. The Custodians have many tasks upon Terra. Considering the complex is a continent-sized sprawl of interconnected fortresses, cathedrums, armouries, dungeons, macro-habs, judiciariums, archives, sanctums, space ports and countless other structures, this is no mean feat.

It is the Adeptus Custodes alone who decide who will be permitted audience with the Emperor, and it is an honour that is granted only in the rarest of circumstances. They oversee the soul-binding ritual that sees thousands of psykers each day drained of their life force in order to sustain the Emperor and his Astronomican.

The Adeptus Custodes guard the deepest vaults of the Imperial Palace, wherein lurk sanity-blasting secrets from the Dark Age of Technology. They despatch shield companies to inspect the defences of the Sol System, and to eliminate anything that presents even the slightest hint of a threat to the sanctity of Holy Terra. They play their endless Blood Games, one of their own number taking the role of invader or assassin to test their defences and, in doing so, to strengthen them still further.

For millennia the Custodians have gone about their duties, bound to traditions that have become ritual and rote. Yet this is a mantra the Custodians apply also to themselves, and thus they have never permitted themselves a moment of laxity or introspection. Either way, the Adeptus Custodes continue to exercise the full authority of the Magisterium Lex Ultima, marshalling the defences of Terra as they see fit and answering to no one but their silent master in matters of security, sanctity and strength.

There can be no more important duty in all of the Imperium than to shield the Emperor himself. As such, no consideration for rank or veteran status is given when appointing Custodians to the Companions, and those passed over in favour of younger or less experienced candidates take no offence. Again, this is no mark of dishonour, merely a pragmatic admission that even a Custodian cannot perform such a taxing duty indefinitely. Those who have served amongst the Companions are more likely to lend their talents to the grim bodyguards known as the Aquilan Shields.

Such Custodians have protected the lives of the greatest and most august personages in the Imperium, most notably the High Lords of Terra themselves.

To the Ten Thousand such duties are simply an extension of their vows to protect the Emperor, in this case by safeguarding those assets most important to the successful running of his Imperium. The vigil of the Companions is unending, and though they are of course rotated out for brief periods of rest, it is still a purgatorial duty.

Arrayed in ranks around the Golden Throne, these wardens stand for incredible lengths of time, unmoving, unspeaking, poised constantly upon the cusp of battle readiness in case the slightest threat were to present itself.

More than ten thousand years later, the same processes are still utilised, remaining every bit as shrouded in secrecy and tradition as they were during the Great Crusade. If it can truly be said that the Space Marines are the sons of the Primarchs, then the Adeptus Custodes are the progeny of the Emperor himself.

His might permeates them, his blessings so powerful that they can shield the Custodians from hurts both physical and empyric.

The greatness of the Master of Mankind runs in their veins, burns in their eyes, and charges the air around them so that all faithful warriors instinctively respect and fear these demigods of war. Now there are ten thousand of us, ready to strike out into the galaxy with all of our might. Exactly what chance do you think your traitorous brothers stand against us, cur? Between them, these modifications reshape those who receive them into living weapons. By comparison, whatever mysterious bio-alchemy is used to trigger the transformation into a Custodian occurs on an entirely deeper level, taking root in the cells, perhaps even the soul, of an aspirant.

The process of ascension goes beyond the purely physical and spiritual. With the Adeptus Custodes fighting only for the Emperor himself, and beholden to the commands and scrutiny of no other, the secrets of their recruitment have never been revealed, for not even the High Lords of Terra have the right to demand them. Each aspirant endures thousands of hours of such psycho-indoctrination and mnemic conditioning. Their education is mercilessly absolute, information beaten into the metal of their minds at a punishing rate that drives many mad.

They must grasp not only the tenets of warfare in all its forms, and learn every method of assassination, counter-espionage, threat recognition and death dealing known to Mankind, but also expand their minds in far more esoteric directions. Diplomacy and statecraft, astrogation and interstellar geography, history, philosophy, theosophy, artistry and countless other subjects must all be mastered to a breathtakingly high degree. It is known that all Custodians begin their lives as the infant sons of the noble houses of Terra.

Such children are taken in when they are still in infancy, for the earlier the genetic metamorphosis into a warrior of the Adeptus Custodes begins, the better a chance it has of success. Much of this education is a throwback to the days when the Custodians were expected not only to provide the Emperor with protection, but also counsel and conversation. It has become a tradition applied by rote, but still its benefits are apparent.

Not only does such an avalanche of information screen out those whose psyches are not sufficiently robust, but it further ensures that — almost alone in a dark and dreadful age — the Adeptus Custodes retain the enlightenment and perspective commonplace during the Great Crusade.

Of course, with such blessings comes a tragic comprehension of the depths to which the Imperium has sunk; it is a credit to the Adeptus Custodes that such a realisation does not drive them to despair. There is a reason that — despite their remarkable lifespan — the Adeptus Custodes have never numbered more than approximately ten thousand warriors. Simply put, for every worthy aspirant who succeeds, thousands are found wanting. A Space Marine 14 No truth is withheld from the Adeptus Custodes, for in order to do their duty without impediment they must possess all of the facts about the dark terrors that seek to conquer the galaxy.

Such sanityeroding revelations quickly eliminate those inductees who do not have sufficient spiritual fortitude to do their duty. How long the process of creating a Custodian takes is unknown beyond the walls of the Imperial Palace. All those who survive emerge as magnificent praetorians, their sculpted physiques and altered minds so utterly other that they adopt entirely new personalities.

They draw their names from ancient texts, deriving them from heroes, monsters and gods of old Terran mythology. Not only is this practice regarded as being entirely appropriate for such transcendent beings, it also allows the noble families of Terra to save face. All can — and will — claim that it was their offspring that showed the fortitude to become a Custodian, and none will gainsay them.

Though the minds of the Custodians are armoured against the machinations of witches and psykers, they themselves never exhibit such abilities. The Emperor allowed for no chink in the defences of his bodyguards, for while battlefield psykers are undoubtedly powerful living weapons, they are also unstable ones. Their minds are prone to invasion by warp entities, a danger that no member of the Adeptus Custodes need ever face.

Certain names such as the Clan Halbrinmir or the Clan Gestaxtis are renowned for their martial masterworks, and their augmetically enhanced artisan-barons are famed for the wonders they have wrought. For those superlative individuals that do survive to join the golden ranks, their comrades afford them immediate respect.

There are no juniors amongst the Adeptus Custodes — only worthy warriors who understand the full burden of responsibility that their power and authority brings. The Adeptus Custodes also have access to an incomparable armoury of technology, much of it dating back thousands of years.

From the sleek Dawneagle jetbikes of the Vertus Praetors and the magnificent Allarus-pattern Terminator armour, to Land Raiders and Contemptor Dreadnoughts that saw battle during the Great Crusade, such equipment epitomises the proven excellence of all Adeptus Custodes materiel.

Just as the warriors who protect the Golden Throne must be utterly without fault or weakness, so must be the equipment they rely upon to discharge their duties.

Though all begin with a single epithet, as these warriors achieve great deeds they are awarded additional names to reflect them. In days past, the Emperor himself would bestow these titles. Now it falls to the Captain-General, or occasionally a Shield-Captain in the field, to bestow the honour on his comrades. Custodians who have served for many centuries typically have dozens of names inscribed within the plates of their armour or — in some cases — even etched microscopically into their bones.

Along with their name, ascension to the ranks of the Adeptus Custodes earns each individual their own armour and weapons. Some suffer physical hurts that impact upon their ability to perform their duties, with lost limbs, artificial eyes or augmetic organs lessening their physical perfection. Others find their mental faculties beginning to erode, however slightly, acknowledging that their reaction times or mnemic awareness are not quite what they once were. For the vast majority of warriors, a tenth-of-a-second reduction in the speed at which blows are stuck or parried might be considered negligible.

For a Custodian, it is error enough to necessitate that their watch come to an end. When a Custodian judges himself no longer fit for duty he surrenders all of his equipment to the Hall of Armaments and vanishes into the void of the galaxy clad in hooded black robes. Such noble exiles still serve the Emperor, however, for wherever they travel they observe. Others cultivate networks of informants and agents, using fear and intimidation to secure compliance where loyalty and honour will not suffice.

Should they bear witness to a situation developing that they believe might threaten Terra or the Emperor, these watchers use secret channels to communicate a warning to the Captain-General. So do response forces of the Adeptus Custodes launch punitive and often pre-emptive strikes throughout the Imperium, forewarned of danger by the Eyes of the Emperor. It sprawls across an entire mountain range, stretching for thousands of miles over the surface of the throneworld.

The Adeptus Custodes are responsible for the defence of this immense fortress, a duty they discharge with tireless diligence.

In the days of the Great Crusade, the Imperial Palace was a surpassing wonder of engineering. Yet the necessity to fortify that beautiful structure against the baleful intentions of Warmaster Horus — and the subsequent widespread devastation suffered at the hands of his traitor hordes — wrought irrevocable changes.

In the wake of the heresy, the Imperial Palace was rebuilt as the mightiest fortress in human history. The ten millennia since have seen it become ever more bloated, polluted and immense. What once was bright and magnificent is now vast and lowering, a hunched architectural monstrosity that wears its martial might like a challenge to the terrors of the darkling void.

There can be no clearer metaphor for the fate of the wider Imperium, but though the palace is a grotesque mockery of its former self, still the Custodes guard it well. This is no small task. The towering spires of its macro-habs and space ports break through the atmosphere and rise into the void like the spines of some bioluminescent beast.

Its corridors, chambers, vaults, fastnesses and plazas are so multitudinous that no single record remains to list them all, and the societal sub-nations, clan holdings and techno-urbanic serf tribes that dwell within its walls could populate entire star systems.

They inspect the endless miles of orbital guns and defensive silos, and maintain a wary guard over the hidden vaults deep within the palace which contain secrets so dreadful that they could bring about the fall of Humanity were they ever released. For thousands of years, their shield hosts have mustered in secret and set out aboard requisitioned warships to strike down threats identified by the roaming Eyes of the Emperor.

Bands of Custodians have regularly patrolled the Sol System, serving as rotating garrisons for military facilities based around Luna, Venus, Pluto and numerous deep-space star fortresses that watch the approaches to Terra.

The Adeptus Custodes have also long liaised with the Imperial Fists Space Marine Chapter, who still maintain their role as joint guardians of the Sol System, and whose immense star fort — known as Phalanx — has often held a protective orbit over the throneworld. The Adeptus Custodes have remained unwavering in these duties for thousands of years. Now, even as the galaxy darkens around them and new wars arise for them to fight, they are more determined than ever to ensure the Imperial Palace, and the whole of Terra, stand inviolable.

Towering even taller than the mountain range upon which it was built, it is a monument to the grandiose martial might of Humanity. A fool dies with blades still sheathed, fearing that there might yet come a time of greater need. For the sake of Emperor and Imperium both, we must take the fight to our enemies. Through great sacrifice and unnatural artifice, Roboute Guilliman, Primarch of the Ultramarines, was restored from the brink of death.

His coming would herald great changes for the Imperium. Perhaps, had it been otherwise, the fate of the galaxy would have been very different. Whatever the case, following his revival Guilliman was determined that he would not make the same mistake twice. Seeing the darkness rising to swamp the Imperium, he launched a desperate crusade across the stars that brought him by strange and bloody roads to the throneworld itself.

He quickly began instating changes that would permit the Imperium to fight back against the onrushing hordes of Chaos, bulldozing the bureaucratic stubbornness and hidebound pedantry of the Adeptus Terra as he went.

The Adeptus Custodes found themselves putting down riots, doomsday cult uprisings and rampaging packs of luckless petitioners driven to madness and cannibalism. Bands of Custodian Wardens stood their ground in the shadowed undervaults far beneath the palace as runic sigils burned out and timeless horrors burst from their containment cells.

Worse was to follow. One by one, the eight Bloodthirsters that led the attack were blown apart or cut down. Yet even as the skies boiled blood-red and carmine rains slicked the ground, the legions of Khorne faded from reality with howls of frustration and rage. If the servants of the Dark Gods had bypassed the defences of the cradle of Humanity. Behind locked doors, complex wards and layers of psy-protections, Valoris and Guilliman ratified a formal amendment to the role of the Adeptus Custodes.

However, as a logical extension of the vows of duty they had sworn, the Adeptus Custodes committed to greatly extending their extra-solar activities. Aided by oracular doomscryers and alphalevel astropathic intercepts, and guided in part by the continued efforts of the Eyes of the Emperor, more shield hosts than ever before struck out from Terra. The aim of these forces was to exterminate utterly the most deadly threats to the Emperor himself. This mission might take them all across the galaxy, even into the shadows of the Imperium Nihilus beyond the sprawl of the Great Rift, but always their focus would be the sanctity of Terra.

It was not to be squandered or refused. When they deign to account themselves at all to other Imperial bodies their ranks appear complex and highly stratified. Yet much of this is tradition, or else purposeful misdirection; in practice, the Adeptus Custodes use a robust and easily adaptable system to organise their forces.

The Adeptus Custodes operate as a military force, a gathering of champions each of whom possesses unassailable authority over virtually any other organisation in the Imperium. Conversely, no Imperial agent can give a Custodian orders. Even such worthies as the High Lords of Terra and Lord Commander Guilliman are able only to request — not demand — their aid.

As befits such a body of elite warriors, the internal hierarchy of the Adeptus Custodes is remarkably flat. The Captain-General commands the Ten Thousand, inheriting a post that has been passed down from one gallant leader to the next ever since the mysterious disappearance of Constantin Valdor.

The Captain-General has absolute authority over the Custodes, acting as the ritual proxy for the Emperor himself and speaking with the voice of the Master of Mankind. Membership of this body changes periodically to ensure a blend of established wisdom and fresh ideas. A Custodian must have earned at least ten names before he can serve on the Tribunate, and have led his comrades victoriously in battle on at least three occasions. Once he joins the Tribunate, a Custodian must serve for at least ten years.

During this time he will not see the front lines, for he is too busy bending all of his considerable intellect to supporting — strategically and diplomatically — the Captain-General.

Below this ruling council are the ShieldCaptains, who fulfil the roles of inspiring leaders, gifted generals and selfless champions. Their titles vary enormously, from Supreme Castellans and Aquila Commanders to Master Guardians, often borne in accordance with the specific duties to which they have been assigned.

The remainder of the Custodians possess roughly equivalent status to one another, forming loose warrior bands traditionally known as sodalities. There are varying strategic roles within the organisation to which some Custodians find themselves better suited.

However, whether this be the rapid jetbike troops of the Vertus Praetors, the heavy assault specialists of the Allarus Custodians, or the unwavering Wardens, they still operate within a meritocracy that sees them afforded whatever honour their comrades believe them worthy of.