If you know Warhammer 40k, you know that all its ‘protagonists’ are complete bastards you absolutely shouldn’t invite to a dinner party (whatever Twitter users with Space Marine helmets for profile pictures may tell you). Nevertheless, to spend thousands of hours and dollars painting and playing with Games Workshop’s miniature war criminals, you have to like them a little bit – and reader, I have to confess: I love my Black Templars.
Of all the 20+ Warhammer 40k factions (the total number depends how anal you are about which Space Marine chapters count as their own faction) I probably hate the Black Templars the most. Their key themes and characteristics – religious extremism, fanatical hatred of the Other, obsessive adherence to religious dogma, and the indoctrinated belief that their enemies are inherently ‘impure’ and ‘unclean’ – are objectively and unambiguously appalling.
The Templars originated in the Imperial Fists Legion – the hardy, stoic sons of Rogal Dorn, that most square-jawed, self-sacrificing, and generally tedious of Warhammer 40k primarchs. But, towards the end of the Horus Heresy civil war, Dorn’s first captain Sigismund split off from his yellow-clad kin, led by his unshakeable faith in the Emperor as a divine being.
He and his ‘Templars’ founded their own chapter, armored in black, and dedicated themselves to an “eternal crusade” against the Emperor of Mankind‘s enemies (historical parallels with medieval Christian war leaders and their murderous antics are entirely intended). Initially, they weren’t completely unhinged about the whole thing – but fast forward 10,000 years, and the Black Templars of the 41st millennium have entirely lost the plot.
They don’t play nice with the Imperium of Man at large – for example, by refusing to follow the limits on numbers laid out in the Codex Astartes, and by initially not allowing Primaris recruits into their ranks – but it’s not because they distrust its hypocrisy, totalitarian rule, short-sighted decision-making, or self-defeating politics. No, they just don’t think the rest of the Imperium is hateful or devout enough.
The only Space Marine chapter that 100% worships the Emperor as a God as a matter of policy, the Templars see themselves as the only true servants of the divine Emps, and disdain their more agnostic brother Astartes as misguided and lacking in moral fiber. They generally get on better with the Sisters of Battle (literally the militant wing of the church) than they do with other Space Marines.
More than any other chapter, they’re described as practising extreme self-discipline, engaging in Agnus Dei-esque physical punishments on themselves to keep themselves ‘pure’ and reaffirm their faith, ceremonially reducing themselves to instruments of murder in the Emperor’s name.
For a Black Templar, hatred isn’t a sin, but the highest virtue. Pure, unadulterated, unquestioning hatred of every nominated enemy – be it a Chaos war machine or a defenseless child – is a fundamental job requirement. They nurture their hate through constant prayer, ritual, and endless repeated affirmations – a grotesque reminder that, even for transhuman killers, hate is a learned behavior; it takes work to maintain.
These people are utterly abominable, and are constantly shown – in Warhammer 40k books and lore – to be comically evil in the most operatically overblown ways possible. Not a single thing about them appeals to me intellectually, emotionally, or philosophically – no, not even their knightly heroism or inspiring bonds of brotherhood (come on, are you really going to claim that’s a) good enough to eclipse their faults or b) even close to unique among space marines?)
So, why the hell do I love these horrible boys so damn much? Why have I bought, painted, and played games with over $2,000 worth of them over the years? Why have I sought out and read their stories, and meticulously decorated their preposterous little heraldic shields?
I think it’s because they perfectly embody the complicated, messy satire that’s still hidden deep within the heart of the 40k setting. Warhammer 40k presents us with a cornucopia of baddies who say they’re the goodies, and invites us to be extra weirded out by the fact that this rogues’ gallery includes forces we instinctively think ought to be genuine goodies – i.e. the ones on the side of humanity.
When we play as Space Marines, just for a while, we step into the sad, indoctrinated world of suffering, forced atrocity, and compulsory dogmatic obeisance these mutilated trans-humans inhabit. And in doing so, perversely, we can get a second-hand echo of the thrilling sense of terrible purpose that fuels their lives.
At times, over 90 minutes of dice-rolling, we’ll shout ‘yes, for the Emperor’ and mean it. For a brief time, we’re standing inside the delicious moral dichotomy that makes 40k so grim and dark, rather than viewing it from outside – and what better way to do so than as the Black Templars, grimmest and darkest of all the Adeptus Astartes?
Plus, of course, the Templars – in their black-and-white livery, bedecked with prayer scrolls, skulls, and assorted grisly baroque trophies of their faith – have far and away the best drip in the Imperium. Yes, that’s probably it. No, I will not be taking questions.
For further reference, though – you can check when the Blacky Ts are getting a new rulebook in our guide to Warhammer 40k codex release dates – or try some grimdark gaming recommendations from our list of the best Warhammer 40k games.
And of course, you can keep updated with GW and community news daily by bookmarking our Warhammer 40k news page and following Wargamer on Google News.
Source: Wargamer
