He became Castor, an Apostle of the Word Bearers when he slew Ultramarine Chaplain Castor Rebelius Xandor in hand-to-hand combat a thousand years ago. Before that he had another name and another rank. He was still Word Bearer, but his role was that of a veteran Battle-Brother. He was of the old guard that had fought since the Great Crusade. He but dimly remembered those distant days - only some events stood clearly out from among ten millennia of memories. The face of his mother above the crib - though he could not tell her name. The day of his recruitment as a Aspirant into the 17th Legion - though he remembered not the world of his birth. His First Sergeant - Dochis - he recalled the name, but not the face. Other things from his training were there as well. The pain, the fear, the weakness. All hammered out of him one bit at a time. The proud moment when he was accepted as a Neophyte. The lectures about the divinity of the Emperor and the masses in His honor. The implantation of the organs, the hypno-indoctrination, the endless bouts of combat. The gradual strengthening and fortification of flesh, mind, and soul. Being assigned to a scout squad for final battle-evaluation. His baptism upon the killing fields. First Sergeant Dochis leading them. First Sergeant Dochis falling, his helmet and skull shattered by the heavy weapons of their inhuman enemies. The killing fields of Doorafi. A war to liberate the human population of that distant world from its alien slave-masters.

That single campaign had soon turned into a major war involving all of the Word Bearers 10th Chapter. The aliens had turned out to be but one had of a many-headed monster. Many xenos species joined in unholy alliance. There was plenty more blood before it was all over. The Neophyte that would one day be Castor proved his courage and skill many times over - and sooner than expected the day came. The day when he was made an Initiate - a full Battle-Brother, given the hastily patched-up power armour of a fallen Marine and sent back into the fray By the time the war had been concluded and the humans liberated word arrived from the Legion - the Emperor had betrayed the Legions and Horus had united the Faithful and was leading an assault on Terra itself!

He remembers well the the hatred that swelled up in him when word of the betrayer was heard. Hatred so strong it felt like it was out of this world...and it was. The pride he felt when once more armour could be inscribed with the holy word, and the road to justice began...the long road, still walked upon.

The 10th Chapter was too distant to have any chance of joining the fight for Terra. And it was too weak from years of fighting in a distant region of space to mount any offensives on it own. So at best it played a very minor role in the 'Horus Heresy'. The only action of note was the spirited defense of Kellgaard, a campaign that bought retreating elements of other legions time to reach the Eye. Within the Word Bearers the 10th is a weaker Chapter for not having fought on Terra. With some other Legions - those sane enough to remember or care - count the 10th as one of the bravest and most loyal Astartes formations that ever was.

By the will of our beloved Primarch the 10th was kept for the rearguard. The brave 10th died there so that the others, the defeated, had a chance to run and hide, rebuild their crushed spirits, re-arm and keep fighting the long war. Our Primarch was wise as always when he kept the 10th fresh so that the broken standards of the defeated could rise once more.

Kellgaard was Castor's first real war. Lorgar and the other loyalists against the traitor of the throne. Battle brother against battle brother as the White Scars Legion came swarming after the disorganized remnant's of Horus' proud armies. It was a battle fought across every world in the Kellgard system, on land, in the air and under the sea, and in deep space aboard countless starships and orbitals. Kellgaard was the place with the Word Bearer's 10th Chapter stopped the infamous Jaghatai Khan, Primarch of the White Scars. For three grueling weeks the White Scars met nothing but a wall of steel that all their tricks and feints could not break down. Three long weeks that allowed countless Astartes and supporting units the chance to reach the relative safety of the Eye of Horus. Castor nearly died there. Nearly died many times. But the Powers wished otherwise. When his name finally came up he was not left for the carrion crows, but carried from the field by Brother Moebius of the Dark Angels. Now there was a true Brother. Despite the dubious reputation of his Legion he was the last person Castor had truly trusted. It was a long time ago. Moebius was cast upon the the tides of fate long time ago; whether or not he lived stil Castor could not tell.

The 10th the finally reached the Eye was but a shadow of its former strength. Already bled dry fighting the parasitic xenos of the Phage the Chapter had numbered less than 5000 before Kellgaard, less than half strength. After Kellaard there was less than a thousand. Only the 2nd and the 7th had suffered more - of the 2nd a few hundred remained, of the 7th there were none.

Castor spent the better part of the next ten millennia in the Eye of Horus. Fighting other inhabitants of the Eye for power, resources, and the favor of the God. Raiding without as part of a Host led by an enterprising Dark Apostle. The occasional internecine war as a result of disagreements over the Will of Lorgar in the Dark Council. Training and devotion. Recruitment, indoctrination and training of new Legionnaires. Keep battle-ready and war-gear in order. Lots and lots of devotion to Lorgar and the Powers. Ten thousand years of pretty much the same. The occasional memorable event, but with such a lifetime of memories only a very few have the strength to stand clearly out from the others.

Castor's defining memory is of his victory over Ultramarine Chaplain Castor Rebelius Xandor upon the Blood Fields of Chaqrst IV 999 years ago. Not only did he defeat the Chaplain in single combat, but he claimed the fallen Marien's wargear for himself, rededicating it to Lorgar and the Powers, swearing he would use all that Castor was - use it in the Endless Crusade against the Corpse-God and his false followers. For his bravery and dedication he was well rewarded - after only 333 years of deliberation the Dark Council confirmed that it was the Will of Lorgar that this brave Brother be made a Dark Apostle.

The promise made at the end of the crusade of internal servitude to the word and the true gods sunk in on that day as Castor was skinned alive and the true word of Lorgar was inscribed on hes flesh and soul, the whispers of power came true and the knowledge..oh the infernal knowledge that killing is nothing all die sooner or later, death is nothing. However the souls that receive the word and go freely to the powers , they resound in the warp and the gods find pleasure in them. Castors was now a living embodiment of the Word and the gods and he would bring fire to the galaxy but far more dangerous for the unbelievers he brings the words of Lorgnar and the promise of cruel laughing gods. Castor remembers that day in every waking moment.

Apostle of the true gods, the bringer of the word, bringer of flame, corrupter of souls, breaker of spirits, slayer of flesh. Son of the ever living Primarch Lorgar. Fighting the holy crusade to set men free.

Castor has spent the last 666 years assembling his warband and spreading the Word and Will of Lorgar (both within the Eye and elsewhere). His band is not large enough to be called Host, nor does Castor have the resources to necessary wage great campaigns on his own. What he does have is about five squads of Battle-Brothers, plus a few hand-picked henchmen and specialists (both Astartes and non-Astartes).

Castor's entry into the 13th Black Crusade came rather late: After Abaddon broke the Imperial Navy above Cadia at the dawn of the 42nd Millennium the Dark Council decide to wholeheartedly support the Crusade. Going so far as to send no less than twelve of the Legion's great Hosts to spearhead the attack on Segment Solar. That spearhead hit a veritable brick was and shattered, leaving the Legion bloodied and dazed. How could this be in accordance to the Word and Will of Lorgar? At any rate this led to much internal turmoil within the ranks of the Council. Afterwards the Council declared that it had misread the Primarch. The Word and Will of Lorgar was that the Word Bearers join forces with the Black Legion and make Abaddon's 13th Crusade their own.

Interpreting the word and ones own ambitions can be a hardship some times even for the council. Castor is happy to bring hes warband to spread the word and flames in a minor theater of war, the Imperials there needs to be set free just as much as they need it on the central fronts.