SIGISMUND FIRST TEMPLAR!

SIGISMUND FIRST TEMPLAR! The History of Sigismund, the First High Marshall of the Black Templars Chapter of the Space Marines in Warhammer 40,000 PATREON: www.patreon.com/join/3510517 RELATED VIDEOS BLACK TEMPLARS :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4AFtQbNNrI SPACE MARINES: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EV1jqwhSHBY ROGAL DORN: (THEIR PRIMARCH) : TRILOGY: PART ONE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRUd-9A3MwY IMPERIAL FISTS LORE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_nvK_Jq9Faw RELATED VIDEOS PLEASE SEE ENTIRE THADDEUS AND TARQUINUS PLAY LIST. ROGAL DORN: (Their Primarch) : Part one of Trilogy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRUd-9A3MwY IMPERIAL FISTS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_nvK_Jq9Faw BLACK TEMPLARS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4AFtQbNNrI CRUSADER SQUADS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1I21pblSmo SPACE MARINES: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EV1jqwhSHBY POWER ARMOUR: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dU0pC74CeD4 POWER WEAPONS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT2cp3rAEBo THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UP1bHuNgk8M I had a bit of a head cold which may have effected the quality on this one. I hope not, but it is presently impossible for me to tell or not. So, do forgive me if this one does not hit the target dead on.

'You will die as your weakling father died. Soulless. Honourless. Weeping. Ashamed.’ Simply a badass!

Abanddon the despoiler “you can’t just kill all of champions of chaos” Sigismund “hold my black sword” LITERALLY STABS HIM IN THE CHEST

Were I Kharne the Betrayer, I'd be furious that the Dark Gods would fill me with power while I was dueling Sigismund. That's probably why he's so angry because in the back of his mind, he will ALWAYS know that he should have died 10,000 years ago on Sigismunds blade but like a COWARD needed his Chaos Sugar Daddy to survive. For a man like Kharne THAT is his personal Hell, to know that in the moment it really counted, his own skill and strength FAILED

The 7 things that to me make Sigismund one of my all time favorite characters in the era of 30k, 1. Even by the standards of Space Marines Sigismund was an absolute God-Tier Warrior and Duelist 2. He was best bros with Kharn before Kharn went crazy 3. When he was named the Emperors Champion his sole order from Dorn was to find every single champion of Chaos and slaughter them violently and brutally 4. Sanguinius praised Sigismund for his skills at killing the enemies of humanity, calling him "Death Incarnate" 5. Sigismund was able to hold his own for a short while against Daemon Primarch Fulgrim 6. He Became the First High Marshall of imo the coolest successor chapter, The Black Templars and when Abaddon launched his first Black Crusade, Sigismund got shit done and had his forces up almost immediately 7. Sigismund managed to seriously wound Abaddon by shoving his Black Sword through Abaddon's chest only to be killed by Abaddon shortly after and with his dying breath, he uttered one of the most badass last words in 40k, 'You will die as your weakling father died. Soulless. Honourless. Weeping. Ashamed.’ And Abaddon considered Sigismund such a worthy enemy that he had his body and sword back in pristine condition out of respect.

Clicked faster than the guardsmen loosing men

As pissed as I am at gw right now, baldermort talking about likely the biggest badass in all media of any form still gives me chills

Oh hell yes. This has to be the most over the top introduction yet. Simply perfection.

Love it, however I feel you missed one thing dear bard. Sigismund has the most important quote in all of warhammer... "We will spend our lives fighting to secure this Imperium, and then I fear we will spend the rest of our days fighting to keep it intact... In the far future, there will be only war"

Like a phoenix he rises once more; bringing with him zeal that even Kronan cannot match! Welcome back BALDY!

‘They say that he always kills with one cut,’ says Morn. ‘Only when he isn’t swinging his sword like a farmer swatting flies,’ Rann chuckles, though the words drain to cold sincerity. ‘He has looked defeat in the eye, and smelled its breath too, but no one mentions that.’ ‘But you do?’ ‘I can say what I like of him. I have bled for the right. And – no matter how good he is – he would take more than a scar if he decided to take offence. You do not have that right, no matter who you are.’ ‘But is it true that he has never been defeated, never lost a duel, never failed?’ ‘Never,’ says Rann with a shake of his head. ‘It’s one of the things that make him so difficult to like.’ ‘Let us hope that he will not break the habit.’ Alert sirens sound. ‘Breach impact countdown commencing.’ - Few words about Sigismund "Templar" - John French The White Scar spun his weapon, then snapped it to stillness. Dirty rivulets of water streamed down the creases of his face. ‘Do you not want to know my name?’ Sigismund looked up into the grey of his opponent’s eyes. Jubal Khan – Lord of Summer Lightning, and the Death that Comes with Laughter – was still smiling at him. ‘I know your name,’ he replied. ‘Good.’ Jubal looked into Sigismund’s eyes and nodded. The White Scar held his glaive low at his side, the edge facing back. Sigismund watched him, weighing the rhythm of his stillness, listening to the instant stretch out. A single droplet of water formed on the blade’s point. His pulse was still in his chest. His hearts paused between beats. The drop of water fell. Jubal whirled forwards. Sigismund cut down, and his opponent spun back, his blade a blur around his body. Sigismund swung again and again, his sword like a smear of steel and scattered rain. He was scything low and high, blade whistling, and the White Scar laughed as he ducked a cut and leapt into the air. The guan dao’s edge winked as it arced down. Sigismund froze. Jubal’s eyes were wide above bared teeth as his blow fell. Sigismund jerked aside, the curved razor-edge sighing as it passed his head. His sword flashed out. Jubal pulled back, snake-fast, his glaive rising, and for the first time the two blades clashed with a ring of steel. Sigismund came forwards, hammering blows down one after another, feeling the sword shuddering in his grasp as the rain streamed past his eyes. The White Scar’s face was locked into a snarling mask, his smile gone. Soaking hair whipped above wide eyes as he ducked and spun aside. The guan dao was a razor blur, the play of weapons a spiral of slices and parries. ‘You are everything they say you are…’ Jubal called out. Sigismund saw the slight twitch at the corner of his eye, and slid past a sudden thrust. ‘…and you are more.’ The words washed over Sigismund. In his mind there was only the feel of his own sword, only the play of cuts and angles and balance that flowed through him like blood and breath. Like life. Jubal leapt again, twisting like a bladed hurricane. He was fast, so very fast. ‘But you are missing something, for all your skill!’ He flicked his blade out and cut down, and Sigismund raised his sword to turn the glaive. He felt a blow ring against his forearm, and then Jubal was stepping back, sodden, topknot flicking to the side. Sigismund glanced down at his arm. The links of the chain binding the sword to his wrist had been severed. Sigismund lunged. Jubal swayed like a tree in the wind, and the sword sliced through empty air. An armoured heel flashed out and snapped Sigismund’s head back with a crack of bone and a spray of blood. Rainbow explosions detonated in his vision. The cries of the watching White Scars roared into the deluge. Sigismund reeled, his own blood blinding him, thoughts raging inside his skull: anger, and pain, and doubt, and… Everything was still. He let the drumbeat of his hearts roll through him. His world was the moment, his existence was the sword in his hand. There was nothing else. There needed to be nothing else. Jubal’s next move was already unfolding. Sigismund could not see it, he could not see anything, but he could feel it, like the silence before thunder. His sword met the blow. The force of the impact shook his teeth in his skull. He felt his sword move, felt it ring as it deflected strike after strike. He was going backwards, his vision a clotting blur, his feet skidding in the mud. Jubal was a scything spiral, delivering blow after blow. He was fast, faster than the wind, faster than the blink of distant lightning. But there, suddenly – like a flicker of sunshine through storm clouds – was an opening. Sigismund shifted and cut downwards. He felt the impact, and struck twice more before the clang of the first strike had faded. Then Jubal was gone, spinning back out of reach. Sigismund paused, checking his instinct to follow the White Scar. The sound of rain pattering on ceramite filled the waiting quiet. Jubal stood once again at the edge of the circle. Blood marked his armour, diluting in the rain as it ran over the ivory-white plates. The guan dao was steady in his grip, but his left arm was twisted, the elbow joint leaking red. His gorget was crumpled, and cracks spidered his right thigh plate. The dancing glimmer had gone from his eyes – his gaze was suddenly older, patient, knowing. ‘I will not beat you,’ said Jubal, and there was weariness in his words. ‘I know this. You know it too.’ His lips cracked wide to show sharp, white teeth. ‘But the song was worth the singing.’ Sigismund opened his mouth, forming words with a jaw that felt broken. ‘You were beaten because you lack focus.’ ‘And you lack joy.’ ‘We exist to serve.’ ‘And there is nothing more?’ Sigismund shook his head. ‘Nothing more.’ Jubal looked around, blinking, as though seeing the watching ranks of legionaries for the first time. Then he turned back to Sigismund, and spun his weapon with his good arm. ‘Come, let us finish this,’ he said. - Jubal khan vs Sigismund ‘Sigismund,’ Abaddon said, through lips darkened by his own lifeblood, ‘this claw has killed two primarchs. It wounded the Emperor unto death. I would have spared it the taste of your life, as well. If you could only see what I have seen.’ As I stared through Abaddon’s eyes, I confess I expected the triteness of some knightly oath, or a final murmur in the Emperor’s name. Instead, the ruined thing that had been First Captain of the Imperial Fists and High Marshal of the Black Templars spoke through a mouthful of blood, committing the last of his life to biting off each word, ensuring he spoke each one in shivering, sanguine clarity. ‘You will die as your weakling father died. Soulless. Honourless. Weeping. Ashamed.’ Sigismund’s last word was also his last breath. It sighed out of his mouth, taking his soul with it. ..." The death of the Black Knight"[Black Legion - Aaron Dembski Bowden]

The greatest astartes warrior ever. They need to unleash him in the next siege of terra book

It would seem that the Emperor has blessed you with your mojo again, master Storyteller! And I could not be more happy about it. Thank you.

This entry is exactly what Sigismund deserves, wonderful job Baldy!

Sigismund, first son and the emperors own champion. The truest warrior. The barristan selmy, the Ben kenobi, of warhammer.

Don't know if this feature was available when this was released, but I wanted to come back and just help support and also recognize/highlight how incredible this is. The Emperor's light still shines.

The Emperor Champion, the Sword of Vengeance and Fury, and the First Grand Marshal of the Black Templar’s. He is by far the most deadliest warrior that the Imperium has ever produced and none since then have even come close to his caliber.

At the end, I took my shirt off and yelled out the window, just so any xenos that might be out there among the stars can hear my fury. WELL DONE, you magnificent humble servant Venerable Orator.

I know in my heart that Sigismund would have mopped the floor with Abbadon if they met during the Heresy.

The finest Astartes swordsman who has ever lived.