The arrival of Horus quickly shifted the gathered Astartes away from tales of past glories, quieting down and sharpening focus on the towering primarch.
Madoc was impressed, although he did not show it. While he had hoped for his old eyes to witness the Emperor once again, he was not disappointed to see His premier son in His stead. A command from Horus was second only to the Emperor Himself, and Madoc wasn't about to refuse any such orders.
To no surprise of his own, Madoc's presumption of their purpose was close enough. As far as High Command was concerned, all of them were among the best their respective Legions, each had some skill or talent to offer. Together, they would sever the vital arteries of the alien horde and help bring a swifter end to this grand campaign.
Where other marines chimed in, adding their eager voices to the chorus of excitement for the mission to come, Madoc tempered his expectations, giving the Lupercal a firm, deferential nod. Such a mission might be considered an honor, but the greater the glory, the greater the danger, and considered his presence here was to mitigate that risk. There was little he needed to say that the other marines hadn't already. So the Death Guard stood still and silent, ready to receive his orders and execute them without hesitation.