Battle Brother Amalric Hexenhammer

The Black Templars


“Exuro haereticum!”

Black templars symbol

Nomen: Aulus Amalric
Cognomen: “Hexenhammer”
Class: Tactical Marine
Chapter: The Black Templars
Status: Awesome
Sword name: Rapax, the insatiable
Bolter Name: Sicarius


Rapax, the insatiable

Wounds 21

Fate points 5

WS 47
BS 47
S 43/11
T 51/10
AG 41
INT 41
PER 35
WP 47
Fel 41

Mad skillz:

Mighty Shot
Rapid Reload
Bolter mastery (gratis)
Abhor the witch
Hatred of heretics
Speak language: High Gothic
Hatred of psykers
Ballistic Skill +5
Interagation (BT bonus) + 10
Scourge of heretics
Toughness + 10
Signature wargear – Master Quality Chainsword


Vox communication transcript, CVH299874Z, Tirtanos Pacification, 999.M41
Battle Brother Amalric, 4th company, the Black Templars Chapter
Thunderhawk Gunship Punitor, inbound to LZ from Strike Cruiser Heinrich Institoris.

“Can you comprehend the connotation of faith, brother? Not the word itself, but the meaning behind the word?

Faith is what makes you willing to do what must be done. No matter the cost. This I learned when I was but a child.

You see, brother, my homeworld of Nerva had been marked by the taint. Misguided by agents of the deceivers, the weak-willed were getting unruly. They flaunted their contempt for common decency. They prided themselves in their insults against the Emperor.

They did not know it, but they were living dead men.

A religious awakening swept among the righteous in retort. Worshippers would whip themselves for the sins of others, hoping to appeal to the God-Emperor’s mercy.

These flagellants thought that they could save the world from the heresy…


They were wrong.

As the rioting turned into an armed insurrection, the rebels were no longer able to conceal how far they had fallen to the taint. You could see it in their eyes. They had given themselves completely to the Ruinous Powers.

Loyalist ad hoc units managed to halt the rebel advance on the capitol. With withering numbers, the heretics were being driven back to the gutter. Zealots caught and purged any traitor they came across. Likewise the doubters, the cowards, and the apathetic, all suffered the same just fate.

It was at this very moment, just as victory felt to be within our grasp, that drop pods, carrying a warband of the cursed Iron Warriors traitor legion, burned through the atmosphere. The PDF were slaughtered in a day.

Only the militia fought on, desperate to sacrifice their lives in battle rather than to see their families in the claws of these monsters. But their resistance was futile. As the city’s brass scrambling bells fell silent, one after another, you could assert the distance to the frontline. The fighting was hastily edging itself closer to the city center and my family home.

One evening my father returned. His militia unit had been temporarily dispatched by his commanding officer to enjoy a final meal with their families.
“The colonel is not a man of proper faith” father said. “He does not believe in victory.”
He had washed his tattered blue uniform.
“Remember dearest son, death is always preferable to the slavery of the apostasy. I have taught you this."

My father was a righteous man. A true believer. He knew that the Imperium would prevail in the face of the heresy. But mother had her doubts. I knew this. I had overheard her on many occasions when she spoke such abhorrence to the neighbors.
She unkindly expressed these doubts that evening.

“Explain, wife” father said. His voice betrayed no change in his emotions, nor did he even bother to look up. Yet I noticed that his fists were clenched so hard his knuckles had turned white.
Mother droned on, about how perhaps the doubters had not been wrong at all, how the Imperium had failed. Infuriated by his continued silence, she cursed him for not joining the refugee exodus into the wilderness. She cursed him for failing to protect his family. She spoke heresy.

Father calmly rose from the table and grabbed his lasgun from the rack on the wall.
“My dear wife, I will show thee exactly to what lengths I am willing to go, to protect my family." he said as he aimed it at her.

Mother tried to shield herself by dragging me in between them. She begged for mercy. But father was unrelenting.
“I know now that after my death you will utterly corrupt yourself, and turn aside from the way which the Emperor have commanded you. But I will not allow you to corrupt my son.”
Father then did something that made me understand how strong in faith he truly was.
“You are weak in faith wife. Allow me to redeem you!”

The lasbolt tore through me. Mother fell behind me. In a second father was upon her. His hands at her neck. I could hear her choke to death.

When the deed was done, he kneeled next to me
“I am honored by this end, father” I said.
For the first time, I saw tears in his eyes.
“Yet I am sorry dearest son. But I cannot bear the thought of you being dragged to the Eye of Terror in slave chains. Or succumbing to the lure of corruption. Better this way. Death will come for you soon, son, for the wound is mortal"
Then he donned his militiaman’s kepi and disappeared forever.

I had surrendered myself to merciful death, but the Emperor protects. When I awoke, the sounds of war had grown distant.

I staggered into the ruined streets. I did not care about the thousands of corpses strewn on the parapets. Most were clad in militia blue, but more than a few were clad in the cursed red-black heraldry of the traitor legion.

What few survivors I met, could tell me that a rumor had spread planetwide that the Imperial Fists were in-system. Cowards that they were, the Iron Warriors had hastily scurried off back to the warp, abandoning their wretched allies to their doom.

But it was not the yellow clad warriors of the Imperial Fists who made planetfall. These Astartes were heralded in black, their white shoulder guards bearing a black cross.

After swiftly purging the heretics, the Astartes erected a Chapter Keep among the ruins. I was one of their first Neophytes. This was how I became a battle brother.

Oh brother. All this occurred decades ago. I do not remember much else from my past life, but that day I saw the righteous fire of divine faith burning in his eyes. And I felt proud. Whenever I think back, it nearly brings a tear to my eye.

You see, brother, it is that same faith in the Emperor that has brought me to this heretical world. Here I shall destroy their false altars, break their graven images, and purge the accursed from among the righteous.

For I am an Astartes of the Black Templars, and this is my creed!

On my oath, I accept any challenge, no matter the odds
On my oath, I suffer not the witch to live
On my oath, he that pray unto a false god, he shall be utterly destroyed.
For I am the hammer of the Emperor
And my wrath shall burn hot, and I will kill them with the sword; and their wives shall be widows, and their children fatherless.

181 max

- End transcript

Battle Brother Amalric Hexenhammer

The Battle of Castobel Hexenhammer