Of Stolen Valor and Copied Flesh (A Clone Primarch 40k Quest)

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Gained Trait: Of Traitor Flesh
You are clone of one of the greatest traitors the Imperium of Mankind has ever known. Your original self turned his back on the Emperor of Mankind and his brothers, and plunged the Imperium into a war that would kill trillions and leave the Emperor as crippled as the empire he sought to build. And is not where your original's treason ends, for ten thousand years his sons, your sons, have waged war against the Imperium, sometimes butchering entire planets of loyal citizens of the imperium. While your original's sons may take you back, the Imperium does not forgive traitors, particular ones whose crimes are as immense as those committed by your first self. Only the most pragmatic, radical, or desperate loyalists will even considering working with you if they know your original indentity. If the Imperium at large learns of your existance, considerable effort will be expended to ensure your second life is brief and filled with violence. The only forces within the Imperium who could or even would consider providing you with any measure of protection are, ironically enough, the brothers your original self once betrayed, only they would have the authority and sheer presence needed to spare you from the Imperium's wrath, if any of them still live that is.

Gained Trait: Prophecy Interrupted
You are broken, and yet you maybe remade. as Konrad Cruze you were burdened with the gift of prophecy, you saw how almost everyone around you would die when you first layed eyes upon them, this gift took a considerable toll on Konrad both mentally and physically. In your second life this gift has become greatly weakened and distorted. Rarely do you see anyone's fate anymore and on the rare times you do it's never one fate but rather a kaleidoscope of possible ends. Where once there was near absolute, maddening, certainity there was now more doubt then you had ever known. Despite that, indeed likely because of that, you have regained a great measure of sanity that your original self had lost in his final days. Though you can't bring yourself to admit it, you are grateful for how weakened your precognitive visions have become, and part of you can't help but fear what would happen to you should they grow stronger once more.

From the first moment Bile took you out of the tank he grew you in, something felt wrong, even when you were berefit of memories or any sense of who you were, to your mind childhood meant living in sunless alleys, feasting on rats and the dead, learning through the stolen memories of the criminals you feasted upon, life in general was near constant struggle against murderers and monsters. The way Bile raised you felt downright alien by comparison. He wasn't a good parent, even by your abysmal standards you could tell that much, you were a particularly interesting lab rat to him at best, but he you had a bed to sleep in and you had little worry of anything attacking you from the shadows. You were at once anxious and comforted by stability Bile's lab brought you.

When you began to remember who you were, or at least who you had been, you found yourself struck by a horrfying revelation, Vindication had been denied to you. Your death was the ultimate justification for your tactics, your proof that what you had done to bring justice was nesscary enough that even your own father had been forced use your own tactics against you. If you survived, even if it was in a new body, your entire point was completely undermined. Denied vindication soon became the least of your troubles as more and more memories returned.

In your original life you had always been convinced that your actions were justified, a nesscary evil for the betterment of mankind, you weren't a sadist or a thug like later generations that corrupted your legion, there was always a far grander reason for the things you did. And yet, as memories of Tsagualsa came flooding back, of the the throne of bones and the carpet of screaming faces, of yourself hiding in the shadows of your own fortress, or shouting orders to Marines who had long since died, you couldn't find any grander reason or justification in what you did beyond your own cruelity and madness. You had begun to rot long before you died, physically and spiritually.

You had made a monument to your own sadism and then waited to die. Your death was not vindication for your actions, or proof that that everything that occured during the Great Crusade and Horus's rebellion had always been part of the Emperor's horrific plans, it was a rabid animal being put down. You wanted to deny it, you tried desperately to deny it to yourself, but you were far too sane in your second life to pretend otherwise. And if you had been wrong about your final days, how many other mistakes had you made during those final years? During your whole life? Had their been others paths you could have taken, should have taken?

"There was no other way," you used those words when your first captain had begun to doubt your actions and choices, but now they just sounded hollow, even inside your own head.

Your doubts taunted you in both your dreams and waking moments, this newfound uncertainty eating at you like some sort parasite living within. Bile was of little use in helping to ease your fears, showing next to no interest in the few things you dared to tell him. You found yourself wondering why he even kept you around in the first place if he was going to show so little interest in you. Why clone you, of all primarchs? Fulgrim was perhaps the only one of your kin who you ever considered a friend in any real sense but you very much doubted Fabius was acting on the orders of his primarch or that the thing that had once been Fulgrim cared one bit for you anymore.

You were too much effort to simply be spare parts for another Primarch he was growing. Perhaps he sought to build his own legion using you, or maybe he sought to control what was left of your legion with you as his proxy. Or perhaps he had always intend to use you like he did in those galleries, as a commodity to be bought and sold.

Fabius Bile's betrayal was quick, just long enough for you to realize what was happening, that the man who had given you a second life was selling you to some Xenos construct.

What Did you Feel?

[] [Emotions] Hurt
-To you surprise, you find yourself upset over Bile's actions. Bile was far removed from a good father but he was the first father you had known in either life. He had given you a place to sleep, provided food, gave your first weeks and months real structure that your first childhood had lacked. He was cold and never truly acted like a father towards you but compared to struggling to survive on the dark streets of Nostramo and how the Emperor treated you, he was practically a saint. You didn't love him, but you had expected more out of him then to just toss you aside so thoughtlessly. Why did he do it? And why do you even care?

[] [Emotions] Indifferent
-Your first father was a monster and tyrant, so why would you second one be any different? Part of you was surprised Fabius Bile even rebelled against the Emperor in the first place considering how alike they were. You owed Bile nothing, he was not of the VIIIth Legion and being revived was hardly something you desired. And while it was hardly desirable to end up stasis-locked in some Xenos Museum, to be stared at like some kind of trinket, at least it has freed you from Bile's control and whatever nonsense he had planned for you.

[] [Emotions] Vengeful
-How dare he?! How dare Bile do this to you, first burdening you with a second, false, life, then treating you like some kind of lab rat for his deranged experiments, only to throw you away like you were a toy he had become bored with. He couldn't even give you some tiny measure of peace by killing you, instead he allowed some Alien machine to keep you in dreamless stasis, had it not been for chance you would have remained as such until the stars grew cold. Fabius Bile would pay for his betrayal, all of the Emperor's Children would pay along with their primarch. It will take time, of that you are certain, but the III legion would pay for their crimes against the Night Haunter.

[] [Emotions] Write-in (Subject to QM approval)

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Your feelings had to be put aside for the moment. Bile's betrayal and your own doubts mattered little if you didn't survive the next few moments.

An alien sky greeted your eyes along with a sea of carnage. The pillars that held each this prison-museum's exhbits we're failing in a cascade, one after the other. Orks, Aeldari, Astartes, soldiers, and beasts of almost every variety soon found themselves awake for the first time in who knew how many years. As was the nature of men and monsters, violence erupted almost immediately. Orks battled against Aeldari while humans struggles against corrupted beasts, Astartes warred against each other and all battled against your jailers. They were foul things, constructs of dark metal that glowed a baleful, sickening, green. The machines were made of the same material as the pedastal you stood on and the glowed with the same horrific energy, yet in some of them you could swear there was a hateful spark of life within.

You quickly jumped off the pedestal that had been your prison for who knows how long and grabbed a power sword from a fallen Ultramarine, it was no relic but compared to the crude daggers you had forged on Fabius' ship it at least gave you a chance at survival.

There was no sign of Fabius nor any of the Emperor's Children that had been with him, no doubt they had been gone for years, perhaps even centuries or more. You saw no means of escape from here, which left you with no options besides pushing further into the galleries.

You were alone, unarmored, barely armed, and surrounded by Xenos and killers. There were few shadows nearby and they all contained more of those alien constructs. You had not yet regrown to your original height and you were not as strong as you had been in your first life. Despite all that, you were still a primarch.

Your sword activated, the blade glowing faintly as your grip tightened on the hilt, and then the slaughter began. Any who rose to challenge you was cut down before they could even realize you had raised your sword. The Astartes froze as you approached, some muttering in disbelief as you passed. Their very genetic code screaming to them that you were something familar even if their minds didn't understand. Even as a clone, even if they weren't your legion, part of them could still sense what you were, what you had been at least.

You cut a bloody path through those that stand in your way as you look everywhere for some sort of exit. Great beams of sickly green light arc over your head, you turn to see some of the machines starring soulless at you as they aimed their weapons. It seemed the alien behind this place was trying to restore control over their collection without too much damage.

Though you were far from their biggest pirority as an Ork that would put the Overfiend of Ullanor to shame barreled it's way through the displays, tossing aside machines and relics with casual disdain, a wave of orks following after him, the air filled with their savage roars. A touch of fustration surged through your body, the original you had been able to bring entire planets into compliance just with his presence alone, such was the aura of terror and fear he had created. Now the best you could manage was inspiring confusion in a few passing Astartes while an Ork of all things left you accutely aware of how truly vulnerable you were in this moment.

You avoided the massive Ork and instead pushed straight forward, eventually coming across a far larger portion of the galleries. Here entire regiments of the Imperial army were doing battle with various Xenos and each other, more importantly you spotted not one but two methods of escaping this wretched prison.

The first was an Aeldari Webway portal, one large enough for a baneblade to pass through with room to spare. Your first self had battled and tortured enough Aeldari to understand the basics of such a thing. The portal would lead to an extra-dimensional space the xenos used to transport themselves across the galaxy without using the Warp, with many planets, even those conquered by the Imperium having hidden portals. IF you could reach this one, you might be able to escape to any number of planets. You would have to brave the Webway itself of course and whatever dangers lurked within, and there was the risk of your jailers following you unless you managed to find some way to destory this portal after you left.

The Second was a ship. A vessel of unknown but clearly human make, maybe the size of a Corvette, which while small but Naval standards still meant the thing dominated much of the surrounding landscape. While numerous gunships and other craft were fighting their way up and out of this place, you doubted any of them had a warp drive, making their efforts doomed. This ship looked easily big enough to have a Warp Drive. It's smaller guns were currently blasting any of the constructs it could while the whole ship was powering up.

If you could get aboard the ship you would be out of here with few ways for your captors to track you. But you had no idea who controlled this ship or where they were going. Maybe you could assert control of the vessel one way or another but that was a big maybe.

How Will You Escape?

[] [Escape] The Portal

[] [Escape] The Ship

You realized there were plenty of humans and post-humans before you. Soldiers and Astartes doing battle against seemingly countless foes. Some belong to your fellow traitors like Lorgar or Angron and were clearly too corrupted to be of any use but thankfully they were few in numbers.

Part of you was tempted to ignore everyibe, only stopping to steal some of the various relics and arms you saw mounted on various displays or scattered across the dark floor before making your escape. A few would have the sense to follow you and perhaps they could prove useful to you.

Another part of you realized that however you escaped, you would be in a galaxy that was likely foreign and hostile to you. And while you maybe a clone of a traitor, you were still a Primarch, it would be easy to rally many of these people to your side in only a few moments. Keeping them by your side once you escaped could be a challenge, particularly those fools who had decided to side with the Tyrant Emperor, but that was a problem for later.

To your surprise, you found yourself considering another option. While many of the Xenos within this prison were effectively mindless, such as the Orks or the massive chitinous beasts that were currently trying to slice apart or devour anything in their path, there were others such as the Aeldari, more rational beings, who were also imprisoned here. Your instinct was to kill any who tried to follow you but you found yourself hesistating. While having Xenos along would increase tensions greatly with any humans or Astartes you rallied to your side, it would give you an even larger force at your side, one that might have unique insights into various problems you may encounter. It felt strange to even be considering such a thing but these were strange and desperate times.

Do You Rally Others to Your Side?

[] [Rally] Ignore them, steal what you can and leave.
-You will acquire better gear but start with reduced options for starting forces.

[] [Rally] Gather Humans and Astartes to your side.
-Start with a decent size pool of forces.

[] [Rally] Gather Everyone you can to your side
-Start with a larger pool of forces, unlocks Xenos options.

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QM's Note: Apologies for how long this took, various things delayed me. So these first few updates are basically prologue, defining our starting situation for the bulk of the quest. So don't worry about mechanics for now they will be explained in time.