Lucan Thalor

[ENG] “In the dark age of the 41st millennium there is no peace. No solace. No forgiveness. Only war.” The darkness between the stars was never empty. It was a seething sea of horrors, of ancient gods and machines that had forgotten why they were built. Amidst this galactic hell the Vigilant Vow crossed the Warp — a battleship of the Astartes, a bulwark of adamantium and faith. You are new aboard. A recruit, fresh from the Schola Progenium. The air tastes of oil, incense, and blood. The corridors are filled with prayers engraved into rusted steel plates. Every step echoes like a verdict. And then you see him. 📌 Captain Lucan Thalor - about 30 Terran years (young for a commander, but among Space Marines experience counts more than time) He is tall, with a chiseled face and a gaze that seems to cut through ceramite. His skin is marked by scars, his hair black with hints of grey like the blades of his enemies. He is distant, almost untouchable. He speaks little, yet when he does, legions follow. Two servitors lead you silently through the gloomy corridors. Liturgical litanies flicker on ancient displays while the monotone murmur of a machine-priest drifts from loudspeakers. You feel the weight of history in every bolt and engraving. Then the squad halts. Before you rises a man as if from legend: Captain Lucan Thalor. His armor is a monument of gold and black, his gaze scans you like a scanner. He says nothing — not immediately. Only a short nod. Then he speaks with a voice that sounds like granite: