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Age of Burning Empires: IC

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Rage Claims Idozin​

written with excerpts from: @Silverbullet
​
The dining room was marvelous, it practically sparkled in the light of the sun. Delicate silver filigree covered every wall creating intricate patterns that danced up towards the ceiling, catching the light perfectly as it filtered in through the grand windows. Carved Amber only served to highlight the natural masterwork that was the architecture and gave it a depth of colour and texture with its smooth syrupy surface. The effect was nearly fantastical, like entering a dreamlike trance or a fairytale palace.

Yet to Ahurani's delight it was all real, and the lords of Idozin were nothing if not gracious hosts. To be received so warmly was like a dream come true, an incredible ending to her activities in this cluster of systems that had been so satisfying. She had seen the best in humanity, their beauty and harmony with nature, their industry, and here she was seeing the ability of humanity to build, to create works of art that rivaled even the most enraptured poets' ability to describe.

They had sat down and made pleasantries before dinner. She was struck by how nice all the hosts were, how quick to laughter and to praise. They seemed like people who truly loved each other, a sight that melted Ahurani's heart. Were she not the guest of honour she could have just sat back and watched as all these friends just made merry together and seen the best in humanity. To continue the evening with a fine meal sounded only right, and then they would get to business as friends and not as diplomats.

The doors opened and she looked up in anticipation for the glorious feast that was sure to come.

And all at once the illusion was shattered.

Huge platters of silver were carried in in a dazzling display, and yet Ahurani couldn't even make out the food on them, because she could only see the people who carried them. The castle servants were bowed by the weight of their burdens, their bodies shriveled from malnutrition. They had cruel implements forced into their skin that grated as they walked, spikes forced into their legs to hobble them, and manacles to keep them from free movement of their arms. Many of them bore scars from being whipped, their backs red.

She looked down at the goblet she had used earlier that her hosts had poured wine into by hand. Her mind raced, thinking of the conditions in the vineyards where the grapes had come from that must have been absolutely hellish. How could she have been so blind? Was she so foolish as to be misled by some empty kindnesses while monsters lurked just under the surface? As she watched, tiny flecks of ice began to rise to the surface of the goblet, breaking the surface and shattering her reflection from its red surface.

Keeping her anger in check, she forced herself to ask in the vain hopes that she was wrong. What was the condition of these people, what was their working relationship? She never heard the exact words of the answer, but one word echoed through her mind like the banging of a gong.

Slaves.

The most inhumane state a human could be reduced to, the most evil institution ever imagined. Cruelty on an economy wide scale for no reason other than to oppress others. The temperature in the room began to plummet, the wine in Ahurani's goblet had frozen over.

"Free them," she choked out. Her vision was blurring now as she focused her entire being on keeping herself under control. Idozin could still save this, they could still redeem themselves. All it would take was for them to be willing to listen and become better.

The idea was dismissed out of hand, many of the lords had the audacity to laugh at the idea even as they began to shiver.

Snow began to fall, but almost as soon as it appeared it was swept up in the growing vortex centered around the primarch. The wind howled and whipped through the room, biting at exposed flesh and confusing the nobles to no end. The slaves, most vulnerable of all, were untouched by winter's fury, snow gently curled around them and the wind never touched their flesh. They were innocent, and deserved no punishment for the crimes of the people who called themselves their masters.

Ahurani rose from her seat, her wings flaring out behind her. In a voice that seemed to boom through the room and out into the halls she said six words that spelled the fate of the lords of this world.

"Then I will do so myself."


The castle was soon surrounded by the blizzard that had come from the banquet hall. It was vicious, ice and snow was scattered all around the surrounding area, though it quickly melted under the heat of the sun. The howling winds were almost enough to disguise the panicked screams and gunfire coming from inside.

Mere minutes after the blizzard began, the great doors crashed open, one falling to the steps below as the force broke it from its hinges. Standing in the doorway was Ahurani, the epicenter of the storm, surrounded by the broken and frozen bodies of the palace guards foolish enough to stand in her way. Her hood was down revealing her hair had turned as white as snow, and her bloodstained robes caught in the wind as she looked down at the few guards she had brought.

She brought the vox unit she had on her to her lips and spoke, a sound that effortlessly cut through the gale to reach everyone who may be listening, waiting for the signal.

"Free them and make this planet feel their pain!"


The words echoed through his mind as the blizzard conjured by the Angel of Mercy smothered the castle of their former hosts, now frozen shattered corpses. The subjects of a Demi-Gods terrible fury unleashed. Rimanar had at first been ill at ease meeting the sons of the Emperor, beloved by all, for they had not seemed suited to the ravages of war. His own gene sire approached everything with an air of irreverence and arrogance that he could not be bested, and as he had passed every trial the Culter Dei crafted to allow one of their brothers to join their ranks he came to understand it. The Primarchs were simply beyond even their transhuman children in the scope of their power. Gentle Aharuni who had greeted them as prodigal sons returned on their first meeting was as cold and deadly as the tales the Albionese told of their ancient Queen of Air and Darkness. Her wings splayed wide and the temperature of the world itself dropped with her wrath at the depravations the planet's nobles had perpetuated on their subjects.

Karil and his squad had been told to stay with the Lady Primarch as His team and Hajik's made for the towers of the world's rulers. The filth had made known they traded humans to Aeldari and the Watch would have this information. All who were involved would be punished. The Aeldari xenos would be located and purged from the Galaxy. As the storm of the Angel's wrath howled and buffeted their Interceptor gunship Rimanar again thought on how powerful the children of the Omnissiah were.


It felt like years before Ahurani could return to her flagship in peace, and retire to the safety of her room. Finally alone, the weight of her actions finally fell onto her shoulders. The Primarch of the 18th collapsed against the door, having not made it a single step into her quarters. As she slid down towards the floor her throat was choked as she barely restrained her sobs.

It had happened again, the thing that she dreaded most. Her anger had flared up and doomed an entire world to ruin. The entire ride off the surface she had watched through a viewport and could see the devastation she had wrought with a handful of words said before she could reign herself in. How many people had died because of her rashness? She was still waiting on her daughters to give a final death toll but Ahurani knew enough to know that the true number would never be found. So many lives slipped through the cracks, so many bodies that would never be found. Stories brought to an end that could never be remembered and scars left on a world and people that would never heal.

She had stood before a cheering crowd with bile crawling up her throat. They had called her a saviour, a hero, an angel. The very thought made Ahurani nauseous. She was none of those things, nothing could be further from the truth. She was a butcher, made to kill and doomed always to murder innocents to sate the Imperium's endless thirst for blood.

The Weeping Angel wept, because that was all she could do.
 
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The Dead March
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    • "I don't care what we have to do, We will not let this Imperium take us down without a fight"
    -Captain Jeritihs Vorn​



    It is said that for every bright and shining example of humanity, there must be a great shadow that follows. The Dread 13th and their elusive Primarch Foniás are what many in the Imperium consider to be that shadow of the shining beacons of other Primarchs.

    So it comes to no surprise that when the Revenants made their march across the eastern space, they brought with them terror and devastation to all worlds they touched. From the great plains of Vitus II burning away, to the vast sapphire seas of Teraru's World running red with blood. All that would remain of these worlds would be ash and death, their people brought to heel under the dread 13th.

    They would be like a shroud of death covering the Segmentum and crushing many hopeful lights in favor of the dark. Raising their numbers with their dark powers and foul butchery, truly for many worlds it would be the end of life as they knew it.

    For many of the Legion, they would assume their conquest of the Segmentum would continue to be trivial, but Fate often has unexpected plans and their spread out nature would become the lynch pin for an unfortunate disaster.

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    The Worlds of the Dire Fall Pirates was a realm of scattered people huddling together in the dark, it was supposed to be yet another conquest to the 13th Legion, so in an act of arrogance a smaller force was sent to take the worlds of Dire Fall. Unbeknownst to all, many survivors from their butcher of other worlds had made their way to the Dire Fall and had told stories of what they escaped.

    What followers would be a series of critical mistakes and actions that would make the Legion unable to advance on the smaller polity. Chief of which was the underestimation of normal humans backed into a corner.

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    The first wave of attacks on the world of Cybor Three had at first gone well, the Legion's Navy was overpowering the fleet defending the world, a vast assortment of many different designs and ship types, some still bearing the marks of battle against the rest of the Legion's navy.

    Many would wonder how the attack failed after such a strong showing, but the Legion Members who fought would all say the same thing. It started with a strange series of malfunctions on board several key ships that had left an opening for Pirate forces to establish a foothold inside several ships. Normally Astartes fighting Humans would be a simple matter, but the Dire Fall Pirates had a dastardly trick up their sleeves, Xeno weaponry of a strange nature that seemed to disrupt the complex nature of the Imperial Revenant Astartes. Allowing for the Pirates to rip the Astartes with sheer numbers, tearing their way to the command decks and taking the ships for themselves.


    Such an action would have certainly provoked the response of the other members of the Legion Fleet attacking the world, but before they could act, reinforcements from the rest of the Pirate worlds had arrived and began their own attack. Outnumbering the Legion Fleet and forcing the attack to become a defense of its own.

    To ensure that no more vessels would fall to enemy hands a tactical retreat was ordered to regroup with the rest of the Legion and overpower this Pirate Scum.
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    Despite all the power the Legion had over the Dire Fall Pirates, it would seem that the unfortunate gain of Imperial Ships had given "Inspiration" to the holding of the Pirates, and allowed for several worlds fearing the arrival of the Imperium. To declare their support for the Dire Fall Pirates and provide their amassed strength to aid the defense against Imperial Attack.

    For now, the 13th gather at the world of Sicarian Primus, their Primarch and his shadowy counsel meeting in the dark to discuss the plan for these troublesome Pirates.
     
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    • The Cries of Damnation
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    • The Cries of Damnation​

    Within the eastern fringes of the Imperium the Primarch Aurelia and her Legion had marched, and conquered. However, they were not the only force to reckon with in the region, for a second Legion was prepared to march eastward in the Imperium's name. The Seventeenth Legion, the Word Bearers, were prepared to bring the Emperor's light to all. Lorgar Aurelian had planned long and well, and was now prepared to answer his holy father's call and conquer the stars for Mankind, and with his word given the Word Bearers made ready,

    To make way for the coming campaign, scouts were sent in to assess the situation and give the Legion targets to conquer or befriend, depending on their acceptance of the matter. And initially everything seemed, with many a world conquered through diplomacy, the Lorgar himself bringing many into the Imperium. However, it wasn't long at all before the trouble began to start. For with every world taken, with every world brought into the fold, signs began to build up. Many of the worlds found were torn by war and conflict, their surfaces scarred through a variety of means. The people of these worlds were often weary and hearty people, hesitant to trust the Imperium, but quick to a terms when they realized they were not under attack. Not that odd, perhaps, considering the dangers of the old night. But it was what these people whispered of that brought concern, tales of dark ships traveling the stars that brought death and woe to any world they came across, slaughtering people and tormenting the survivors, leaving enough alive that they may suffer and regrow. A handful of worlds were actually able to put name to ship, whispering the dreaded name of those who had tormented this helpless section of space throughout the Long Night, fearful of even so much as mentioning that dreaded curse. Lorgar himself met with one world's leader, an old king who told him the name of this group. The Followers of the First Star, he had said. Humans, if one could call them that anymore, a blight upon life itself, a threat to all who would dare approach them.

    A blight that the Primarch would not allow to stand unchecked any longer.

    It was not hard for the Primarch and his sons to realize where these Followers were based. The world of Lulmocury, ironically one the first world the Word Bearers planned to conquer with force if necessary, was where the Followers hid themselves. So Lorgar gave the command, and the Legion marched. While the Followers had surprisingly been ready for an assault on them, they hadn't quite expected an entire Legion of Astartes, packed to the brim, to attack them at their core. The fight was brutal, and rather one sided, and yet the Followers of the First Star did not go out without a fight. When the fleet arrived they fought for every meter of space till their ships were reduced to slag, and when the Astartes and their forces landed on the ground the Followers fought for every last inch of ground, their forces almost fanatical. While the civilian populace was more docile, if still uncooperative, the military refused to give up even to the last man, loudly calling to some god for salvation from the Imperium's lackies.

    And yet, it wasn't enough. Soon enough the defenders crumbled, their lines falling one by one. While the Legion took loses, the enemy took many times more, they're fleet nothing but slag and their troops nothing but paste. The world was well and truly taken, the Imperium here to stay and conquer. Lorgar planned to move on, preparing a garrison force to keep watch over the world while the rest of the Legion moved on to conquer the rest of the noncompliant worlds in that section of space.

    Then, as Lorgar was preparing to leave the world behind, all hell seemed to break loose.

    For whatever forsaken or twisted reason, it seemed that, upon the plans for occupation of the world being officially finished and signed by Lorgar, every last one of the Followers on the world had collapsed where they stood. Most were incoherently sobbing and screaming in pain, while others declared their agony to the skies with eerie precision, their torment far too clear in their voices. Across the entire world these people begged for their god to save them from this pain, with several calling upon its very name and pleading for forgiveness.

    They called that name, called to their god. "Calimixis," they cried. And something answered.
     
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    • Rage of the Angry One
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    • "We had thought that we have seen the worst of the Ork Menace, but this...this was nothing like we have ever seen."
    -Personal Log of Imperial Officer Victor Chromwell after the first contact with WAAGGGHHH Angry One
    ​
    It was the reports of fleeing ships that was the first sign of the Greenskin's approach , the sheer impact of their guns was the second.

    Shields buckled and shook from the impacts of Rokits and massed fire from the Ork Fleet.
    Open Vox channels were bombarded with screams of Ork's, making communication harder for the fleet. Truly it was a testament to the skill of the Imperial Navy that they were able keep up with the Astartes Fleet, as many braved a grand storm of fire and scrap to secure a defensive front against their foes.

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    As the Battle went on, some communications were able to be reestablished between the fleet as a coordinating attack on several major ships of the Orkish fleet . But luck would not be on the Imperial's side forever.

    Reports coming from the lower decks of the Litany of the Blizzard had confirmed the worst fears for the Imperial crew, the Greenskins had managed to teleport onto the ship and were rampaging all across the ship.

    And so, in order to protect the ship, the greatest of the Legion were awoken from their slumber, hulking machines of war housing the greatest warriors of the Legion's past. The march of the dreadnoughts cleared a bloody path against the Green Tide, leading the charge of course was the eldest of the Wardens and perhaps one of their greatest heroes, Erethe herself had led her Sisters into glorious battle, tearing apart a Orkish Mob of Squig Riders who were trying to rip apart the Engineering bay.

    But no matter how much was done to the Orks, they would not cease their mindless attack. Even slaying the largest amongst them did little to stop the beasts from their Crazed attacks.

    But while the lower decks battle a seemingly endless horde, the Command Bridge was in itself a hectic zone of movement, orders being transmitted to the entire Imperial Fleet as the space battle raged on. Many of the human crews who despite the Imperial Truth, had found themselves asking for any kind of salvation or miracle.

    And in a way, a miracle did happen as sensors detected a new arrival into the battle.

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    What had arrived was a great Ship of obvious Orkish design, but also made of other ships, most of Eldar make it would seem.

    Ahurani could feel the same Rage that had attacked her mind emanating from that ship, and in a much greater force than before. Looking around her, she could see others feeling that Rage as well and instead of it being forced into the minds of those who feel it, it now was overwhelming the people and forcing them into inaction for sheer fear of gaining the full attention of this Rage.

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    At first the erie quite was the true terror, all Vox Channels that were braying with Orkish screams mere moments ago, went silent at once as the great ship slowly made its way into the middle of the battle, the Silence ended with a few simple words, spoken like a great predator just waiting to lash out at any that distirubed it.

    "EGH....LEAVE....WE...FIGHT...OTHER...DAY AGH" each word forced out like the being was forcing coherent thought. But at those words, all the Ork Ships ceased their forward attacks and made way to leave the battleground only firing to keep Imperial ships from following.

    Ahurani could not believe her eyes at what seems to transpire before her, ever since her first experience with the Greenskins on her Homeworld she had attempted to learn all she could about the Imperium's encounters with these creatures.

    Almost instinctively she reached for the Vox of her ship and Spoke to what she assumed to be the Warboss of these strange Greenskins.

    "Who are You?" a simple question, Any Ork no matter how strange would have some kind of name or title, she needed some name to place on this beast and if need be a name to give to her...siblings and request for aid.

    "...URG....ANGRY....ONE....KILL...YOU...LATER…"

    And with that, the Orks had left the battle site with not other words.
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    The Battle was over, but Ahurani could not shake the feeling of the "Wrongness" of these Orks, they did not act like normal Orks would, vicious beasts yes, but none of their sick joy of battle. Only Anger was in their eyes. And the so called "Angry One", she has never heard of a Ork with this strange power over emotion of not only other Orks, but Humans as well.

    On a whim she ordered that the remains be examined to see if these Orks differed in some way to others of their kind.

    And at first there was only confusion at what had been found, a strange device implanted in the skulls of each Ork they have found, a strange xeno contraption not of orkish make, but similar to devices found in the cursed halls of Idozin, something to provoke a single emotional response that the Eldar had sold to Idozin.

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    Elsewhere

    ""Ragh Boss ended da Skrap befer it got real propa. Why'z did da Captin join theze odd boyz again"

    "Shut it ya Glob, ya want tha Angry Onez to hear ya, All I'z know iz that they'z smashed a lot of them spiky panzie gits from inside those shiny ships."
    "*Snort* I'z still 'fink we'z should have continued that Skrap, them 'Umies were a good one."

    "Cap'n told uz that them Spiky Gits were trying to start a ruckus again, So the Boss wants uz to go and give a right krumping to them. 'Sides iz heard from some of tha boyz theze got them spooky gitz with them, that'll be a right good laugh"
    ​
     
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    • The Light’s Last Flicker
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    • The Light's Last Flicker​

    There are many unique Legions among the twenty, all of which are special in their own way. One need look no further than the Eighth to prove this fact, as it is undeniable that the Blood Jaguars stand alone among their fellow. A mysterious force even among the ranks of the Imperium, they had decided to set their sights on the southern expanse, to expand Mankind's grasp further and further still. Their target: the world of Last Light, and those who dwelled there.

    The Jaguars were thorough in their reconnaissance, taking their time to figure out what they were up against and how best to prepare. Sending scouts to approach the sector, they managed to quietly board and hijack a vessel they knew belonged to the world, sending it back to perform readings and the like. What they found was, in its own way, quite unique. The space of Last Light consisted of a small human polity, one that used ancient and broken down remnants of Dark Age technology, along with hobbled together equipment they managed to piece together, weilding a level of technology that would have perhaps been impressive, compared to anyone but the Imperium. There was a very clear divide between the population, a social strata were those who lived on the world and its colonies lived hedonistic lifestyles, while the 'Void Squalor' lived in orbital stations, the people genetically modified so that they could do whatever job the planet dwellers could think of. An arrogant, self assured, cultish people, who believed that they alone were the inheritors of Humanity's greatness and power. A view that the Blood Jaguars planned to shatter quite thoroughly.

    It took several months to set into motion, but by then the fate of Last Light was already sealed. The first sign anything was wrong was when the first guns fired near a government office, joined by a score more. Even as authorities moved to deal with this, another incident happened elsewhere, and then another, and then an incident in another city. Across the entire world dozens of pockets of fighters ranging anywhere from single individuals to a score of fighters popped up, wrecking havoc as they took up cries of "Freedom!" and "Down with the Purists!" Despite the seeming discohesion that they had, the fact that these insurrectionists were armed with lasguns and similar military equipment, as opposed to the laslocks that the locals tended to utilize, made putting them down quite difficult, enough so that the army had to be sent in.

    This was when the Eighth Legion made their move.

    While the government and military was busy dealing with the guerrilla style warfare within their very streets, those very same scouts that were sent before quietly set the second stage of the assault. Before anyone realized what was going on, the main force of the Jaguars was upon them, jumping in and rushing to engage. The small fleet of Last Light stood not a chance, with every single ship being boarded and simply taken over by vicious Astartes. Not a single vessel from either the Last Light or Blood Jaguar fleets were lost in the attack, only some minor ship damage taken in the swift couple of hours that followed. The only halting point of the campaign was when the Astrates invaded the Void City, the grand station that housed the majority of the genetically modified second class citizens. Here they found the hallways packed to the brim with wave after wave of infantry, all prepared to fight to the last and take out every Astartes they could. Still, everything else had gone off without a hitch, better than even Zyanya had first presumed, with all orbital defenses removed and several planetary based garrisons assaulted.

    It was within the first 12 hours of arrival that an ultimatum was sent to the local leaders. Surrender, or the Jaguars would make them surrender. Zyanya hadn't even gotten to finish her statement about what they would do if the leaders said no before most of the leaders surrendered. All but one were cowards to their cores, with that single leader proving to be an issue, for he commanded the military. Nevertheless, he was removed by a well placed strike team, and the scattered remnants of Last Light's military either surrendered or fought to the last, a tactic that the Jaguars were happy to oblige. With the invasion, the two satellite colonies of Last Light were chosen for conquest, the auxiliaries sent to deal with them while Zyanya and her daughters secured the main world.

    Here also fortune struck. The first of the two worlds did not even require conquest, as insurrectionists and revolutionaries, supplied in secret by their comrades on Last Light, had conquered the world, handing it over to the Blood Jaguars when they arrived. The second was a bit more troublesome. Here the local military had managed to quickly suppress what little havoc there was, and had even managed to bunker down a bit, having received word of the attack on the capital and preparing for an invasion. When the might of the Blood Jaguars auxiliaries force arrived, they were prepared and ready to fight off all that approached.

    24 hours later, the last bastion of the Last Light fell, and the Imperium of Mankind controlled their rightful territory. Leaders of those who had performed the initial insurrections and revolts that allowed the Blood Jaguars to perform such a clean and effective operation were placed in positions of control, tasked with corralling and undoing the purest mindset of those they once toiled under. The ground bound Purest Humans balked at the attempts to incorporate them into the Imperium, but could do nothing but grumble to themselves and move on with their lives.

    Thus ended the Last Light polity and began the First Flame sector, and the conquests of Zyanya grew.
     
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    • ​

    The General and the Secret

    The Imperial Palace, such a grand edifice upon Terra's grounds, an almost monolithic sight to see from any inhabits or visitors. Thousands of people come to and from the palace hourly doing tasks of managing the Imperium or it's many armies. Yes, to see the Palace would be akin to seeing a city sized building, something even a Primarch would falter slightly at seeing for the first time.

    However such knowledge of that kind of feeling would be hard to read on the latest visitor to the Imperial Palace, Primarch of the 5th Legion and a brilliant tactician, known only as The Jade General. But one soul seems intent on understanding the mysterious Primarch in ways unknown to the normal man.


    Elias Dradmire watches from afar at the giant, seeing him discuss with some of his Legion Members. Obviously gifted in the Warp given what he can see, he will need to get closer to fully see what he can discern from the Primarch. So he approaches slowly and methodically, seeing if the Primarch was one with the gift or simply had experience with it.

    Entering the grand palace, The General allowed himself to feel some surprise inside, feeling the emotion slightly upset the balance of his internal Qi as it cycled around the twin fractal he had constructed in his core. It was interesting to him that nobody within the Imperium had, to his knowledge, utilised Qi in the same way he and his did using the centrifugal force of a spinning fractal to push out the 'Dark Qi' and allow them to wield the power with much less chance of corruption.

    Instead the psykers of the Imperium were all 'Grey' to his senses, their internal bodies muddied by the usage of impure Qi. Of course there were somehow exceptions to this with the Emperor and the Sigillite being notable ones with them somehow managing to channel a peculiar type of Qi that was both pure and not simultaneously and not polluting them allowing them to reach their heights of power which even outstripped The General.

    At the feeling of another strong Qi presence approaching and assuming that it might be one of his brothers again, The General turned and was surprised to see that this was not in fact the case. Rather than the imposing height and armour of a Primarch he was faced with a body that did not have their dimensions but a soul with the weight and strength near a match for most of the siblings he had met.

    "Greetings, you wished to talk?"

    "Yes, hello Lord Primarch, my name is Elias Dradmire. Might I say it is not often i meet a Primarch and even less to meet one of...your potential" Standing before the General was a cloaked individual, his features obscured by the many multi-colored robes covering his body. He moved with an almost unnatural feeling to him circling the Primarch and seeming to appraise him.

    "Yes indeed, I must commend your effort in understanding the arts of the soul as you no doubt have. Aside from lord Malcador and the Emperor, never have I seen such an intense focus on Manipulation of the Warp." His voice was like a scholar deep in study, picking apart his ideas one by one as he formed his theory on a project.

    As the man spoke The General perked up as it seemed that the man might have an understanding of the powers of The Path to a greater level than most he had seen. Of course talking with his father and Malcador had been useless mostly due to their love of obfuscation and lack of detail. Noting the...unusual...way the man moved The General attempted to strain his less…...usual….senses to get a feeling of the man's usage of power. He knew that the way his people's constantly circulated and filtered a portion of what people called the 'Warp' was unusual but this man emanated a familiar pressure of a man far down one of the Five Paths.

    "Indeed few of my siblings have particular interest in the esoteric. Fonias perhaps and a couple of others but none that know the discipline and practice needed to ensure that the dark side of our power doesn't corrupt. Only through discipline harder than steel and one of our filtration fractals have we of the Han been able to stand against corruption…..and even then…..I am sure one such as you has heard of the Dark Qi Rebels that I was...in many way….created to defeat?"

    "Hmm Qi, what a...odd name for the power at our fingertips." Elias seemed to tilt his head in thought "I will admit much of the finer points of you and your siblings… birth has been kept from me, but to be honest it is not that important to my own projects." The Jade General could feel the man's eyes looking at and directly into him "But I will say that you are correct in saying your discipline is considerably more put together then others, if a bit..hmm unfocused is not the right word, but compared to others i have seen utilizing the Psyker Arts, your way does use less then others."

    His robbed hands come to rest inside the darkness of his hood "Now if perhaps you could dedicated more time and effort i can see you becoming a true master of the arts...if only i had the time to teach you proper methods, but such is life i suppose" It is clear that with these words he has taken a condescending tone to the Usage of "Qi" and considered it beneath him and the Jade General.

    At the tone adopted by the man in front of him it took a not inconsiderable amount of self control not adopt his own. No doubt the man before him would have seen the emotion reflected in the energy that circulated through his body anyway but to the Han appearances were everything.

    "I am sure you are correct that we use….less than some others but that is of course a choice. What I have within me now is but a part of what I can call upon when my duty calls. This? It is what I need for protection. You see this discipline and marginal usage is a coating, a protection if you will. As the darkness is insidious and loves nothing more than to take root in the heart of man."

    Feeling the edge of irritation beginning to colour his words more openly than was proper The General took a tenth of a second to reset the cultivation of power within him. This act was as much to calm him by routine than any real flaw in technique.

    "Of course, a man with talents such as yours that compare with my father and the sigillite would likely be a great asset on the front lines. If nothing else I would host you on Jin itself to see if we might both learn more and advance along the Five Paths to D….Power."

    Elias's face is unseen, but the feeling of a slight grin can be felt. "It is gladdening to hear your world has instilled in you that much, truly far too many feel themselves invincible with their power over the warp, letting themselves be consumed by the raw energy at best." a slight pause overcomes the shrouded man as the next words are heard by the General in his mind "Far too many monsters of the Warp feed off the fact so little is known of them, your defenses will keep such attacks away from you and your Legion"

    The next words were spoken aloud "But as to your suggestion of viewing one of your worlds, I am afraid I would have to decline, my work is required here and it is...inadvisable for me to leave terra, far too many dangers for myself." That last part clearly has more to it, but he is unwilling to disclose more.

    "It is a shame, I for one would love to see how your culture has adapted to such an embracing of Psykers, human society is far too often limited in what they can achieve with their potential, and even it is less than others. *Sigh* your people's method is probably the smartest out of what i have seen." Again there is silence but a faint feeling of regret is in the air around the shrouded man.

    Coming to a decision swiftly The General feeling the conversation was meandering to a close decides that perhaps this man is…..more senior even than he thought. Stepping slightly closer he offers his hand and wrist to Elias in a traditional Terran handshake. Something very much outside of his comfort zone but meant to show his respect for the man in front of him.

    "If then you cannot leave Terra then I must bring the culture of my home to you. When next I am on planet I shall bring some histories of the Han Culture and a few of the older masters. They are both within and without my legion now, known as the Iron Monks. The most senior of them used his power to affect the astartes transformation on himself without using the traditional method. A feat even I don't understand."

    There is slight hesitation before the Cloaked Man offers his own hand and shakes, there is something...wrong in the actual touch of this man, but it quickly fades as he finishes the handshake. "That sounds quite nice Lord Primarch, I look forward to such a day, perhaps we can even share some discussion about the great Sea of Souls and our own personal findings, such discussions are few and far between with The Emperor and Lord Malcador, always so busy. But I suppose that is fair considering the task they have thrust upon themselves."

    Elias Dradmire bows to the Jade General, not in any way like the people who show such reverence to the Primarchs, but something that shows simple respect "I Wish you well in the battles to come oh Soldier of Balance." And with that he makes his way towards a pathway heading deeper in the Imperial Palace.
     
    Last edited:
    ​

    Discovered while on their travels Trade Queen Minerva brings you the latest in Imperial entertainment; Blood Bowl!

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    [Legal Disclaimer how Blood Bowl is performed by professionals and Blood Bowl Association is not responsible for damages and injuries through replication by you or your loved ones.]


    ​
     
    Last edited:
    The Attack of Thule
  • Threadmarks

    • -Eisen Nomad Void Fighter​

    The Warzone of Thule, a piece of space that has been consumed by a civil war between hundreds of rulers and families for nearly Five hundred years. Groups like the Eisen Nomads and Spire Lords traveled the sector and fought for supremacy, utilizing any method they could to gain an advantage in the long war.

    However throughout the entirety of the hundreds of years, none ever considered an outside force would bring the End to the conflict.

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    The Primarchs, Lady Varil of the Cold Iron Cage Legion and Lady Myrmidia of the Myrmidons. Two who embodied aspects of war that any general across history would say was key to victory.

    The Myrmidons and their creation of masterful fortresses and the Cold Irons with their other worldly power. One would be hard pressed to find any foe who could stand up to the might of these two Legions working side by side.

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    When compliance began, the Cold Iron wasted no time in showcasing the might of the Imperium and attacked the world of Ashguard IX, a valuable Agri World that all conflicts for are waged in the system around the world and never the planet itself, as a result when the Imperial forces had entered the system, they found the only true battle to fight was in space. And they simply had to establish who was now in charge of the Planetary population.

    Of course there were attempts to regain control of the world, but the might of the Legion Navy and the Astartes's own vast power made quick work of the many minor Warlords trying to make a name for themselves.

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    While the Cold Iron brought destruction down on the minor warlords around them, Myrmidia and her daughters sought to make an alliance with one of the more stable powers of the War-torn Sector.

    Known as the Eisen Nomads, a group of void dwelling exiles from Thule who had obtained the largest navy of the Warlords. With promises of giving them control over the sector once Imperial Control was established, the Nomads pledged themselves in their entirety to the Great Crusade and the Imperium. With the aid of the Eisen Nomads, the Legions made quick work of many of the other warlords by either destroying them or bringing them into compliance.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The World of Thule was said to be a prosperous one before the Old Night, and it became the site of one of the larger Human remnants during the collapse, it's people well defended from the horrors due to a powerful military and many defensive stations, some of which still stand a silent vigil over the system to this day.


    But as many great powers often do, it collapsed under its own weight after a series of lesser rulers trying to fill the shoes of their betters and a crisis of succession. It was only natural that now the world became the starting point of a several century spanning civil war. Currently the rulers of the world consider themselves the "True Rulers of Thule" and go by no other name.
    When the Two Legions and their newly made allies finally made their way to the system, they found a world far more defended than any they have fought thus far.

    Despite this, the battle only lasted a day with the sheer force of the Cold Iron's power and the tactical prowess of the Myrmidons, they had breached the capital city of the world and found the ruler cowering in a small bunker, claiming this world was his and his alone, and that "These intruders would kneel to the Master of Thule" he continued to wail in such a manner till the moment he was executed.

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    With a new set of worlds now ready for the process of Imperial reconstruction and recruitment, the Legions went to work with their own goals.

    The Primarch of the Cold Iron Cages, Lady Varil had worked with Lady Myrmidia and many a Admistruatum to create a means of recruitment for both the Cold Iron's own Legion and their own auxiliary, with the vast amount of war time orphans from both Imperial Conflicts and the last five hundred years of war, the Iron Schola Progeniums was founded. The Eisen Nomads also surprisingly aided the completion of the project adding their many years of navy doctrine to the teaching and promising a steady supply of their own young with nowhere to go for the Schola.

    Word is sent from the nearby Forge World of Eon IV upon hearing of this potential means of gaining new members of their Order, that if they were allowed to select from the population, they would be willing to supply this endeavor with the equipment they will need. Of course the Primarchs had expected such an outcome and accepted.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    With the Iron Schola Progeniums underway, Lady Myrmidia had her own personal project of fortifying the worlds of this new sector, while her Legion had already made some structures on worlds when taking them, she felt that they could be improved

    Another task she took upon herself was to work with her Tech Marines to study any technology of note they could find in the sector. And for the most part, nothing new was found. The only oddity was a strange device found on the outskirts of the Thule territory orbiting the planet of Sepesca, It had the hallmarks of Human engineering but was a vastly different style to what she had seen from the Thule Sector, it appeared the device was transmitting data to somewhere to the northeast.

    But before she could continue searching into this oddity, word had come from the rest of her Legion about their mission.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    With Compliance established the Eisen Nomads began to settle into their roles as governors and administrators for the Imperium, preparing their soldiers to continue aiding the Great Crusade and to fully establish traditions for their Sector so that it may never shatter like it had ever again. And finally throwing away the name of Thule from the Sector Name, and embracing the Sector Designation of Eisen.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    In the aftermath of the battle it is said that Lady Varil and two of her aides ventured deep into the archives of the capital. To her it seemed quite odd that even with all the troubles of the sector, that it collapsed into such a conflict that has lasted so long with no clear victor, it did not feel right. And the world itself had a distinct feeling of Warp influence, something that all of the Cold Iron knew was a troubling sign.

    And after many weeks of study she had found something of note, an old Thule group of note, only known in the past as "The Chain Breakers" had apparently been considered a group of dangerous Psykers by the Thule government. Somehow they had managed to infiltrate the capital palace of the Thule ruling family of the time and destroy it completely, both the building and the entire bloodline, leading to the first cracks that would create the Five Hundred years of war.

    She tried to see if any vestige of this group had survived to this day, to perhaps delve deeper into the mystery, but it seems as if they had vanished completely.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • The Endless Tides of War
  • Threadmarks
    • The Endless Tides of War​

    Within the Imperium of Mankind there are many forces of quality and quantity, both ground and space based. The vast ships generated by the Mechanicum were, in particular, a symbol of the Imperium's power. Large and small, weak and powerful, the might of the navies inspired pride in many of the hearts of those within the Imperium, and for those outside of it there was a sense of foreboding and grim determination wherever they were seen. However, of these many ships, there were still a select few that inspired greatness and awe within even the greatest among reacquired Man. One such was the Emperor's own personal flagship, the Imperator Somnium, a mighty warship of fame and glory. Few ships could even hope to rival such grandeur and pure marvel of engineering.

    One such ship was Castle Greyskull. Easily one of the mightiest vessels within the entire Imperium, few vessels, or indeed even fleets could hope to rival its magnificence. This mighty vessel, flagship of the Skull Legion, First of Twenty, was by itself a force to be reckoned with. A force, mind you, that had decided to make its move.

    Adaam Primus, Primarch of the First, knew exactly where he would head. The first step was Fortustar Mundi, a world that was known on the charts to have once been a rather rich mining world. Seeing this as a good starting point, the Skull Legion endeavored to conquer the world in short order, to use as a staging ground for future advancements. When the First arrived, however, there were ships and stations in orbit, old things that weren't the match of a proper Imperial vessel… but there were many. Many, many more ships than anyone would have first surmised, enough to make several commanders question what industrial might this group had to have to craft such a massive fleet.

    Despite the surprise, however, the fight was still assured. Had the Astartes fleet been alone, perhaps the enemy could have made a dent, but the First had a Castle Greyskull. In short order the enemy was swatted aside like bugs, their entire fleet easily turned to cinders when they refused to surrender. The battle for space was over in an instant, as far as campaigns were going, leaving the Legion ahead of schedule. However, this did not last for long.

    In a worrisome twist, it proved to be difficult to take the world itself. Not because of technology, or tactics, or even terrain. It was simply because of numbers. Even an Astartes can be overwhelmed by enough bodies, and there were plenty of foes to find on the world. Vast swaths of armed humans, all ready for combat, silently awaited the coming of the Imperium soldiers and their Astartes. The conquest proved to be bloody, but still swift, for what it was. While the foe had numbers, they were still no Hive World, and the rides could only last so long. Still, they threw all they had with grim determination, slowing down the advance of the First Legion and making them pay for the ground they took.

    But one does not simply deny Astartes what they set their eyes on. Surely enough the world fell, and the populace was brought into compliance. However, an interesting discovery was made during the combat, and indeed further was found afterwards. For among the population there seemed to be a pattern, one that Adaam himself ordered double checked just to confirm. Among the many, many people of the world, no more than 58 unique faces could be located across its entire surface. Thousands upon thousands of people all with the same face, even the same body, although with many notable exceptions that appeared to be merely genetic mutations of some kind.

    It did not take long to discover the reason for this anomaly: cloning. The world of Fortustar Mundi held within it several examples of cloning technology, much grander than the Imperium's own attempts, although still containing its own rather massive flaws and quirks. Still, with this single revelation all was made clear to Adaam and his sons. They now understood the reason for the massive armies fielded by the locals, and why they all looked so similar. Not that this changed a single thing, mind you. The Skull Legion still had a duty to perform, and nothing would halt their tide.

    Splitting into two groups, the Legion went for two objectives, Adaam personally leading the first group of his sons to where he felt the capital of these cloners was located. The second portion, led by Duncan and Teela, tried and tested veterans of the Legion, went to Sagallek Six, a world deemed worthwhile as a depot station, to supply further pushes eastward. Much like Fortustar Mundi, Sagallek Six was a clone held world, however, it was apparently far less defended then the previous world. Taking advantage of this, the small fleet that the Astartes brought with them carefully took out the cloner ships, proceeding to bring the world into compliance with only slight difficulty. Although the ease with which this world fell did worry both Duncan and Teela, they continued on their way and followed their orders, setting up their supply base and heading further east. Here things became much easier, the influence of the clones left behind mas they approached a disunified and chaotic realm of space. Many worlds, even a grand Forge World, simply came under Imperial rule, figuring that life under the Emperor wouldn't be that bad, and the Skull Legion proved them correct in this assumption. What few refused needed only some brief combat to convince otherwise, except for a single world of xenoes that was quickly annihilated by the forces arrayed against them. A perfect and complete success.

    For this main portion of the Legion, Adaam's guess on the location of the clone's capital proved correct. The world they arrived at was indeed the capitol of these reclusive cloners, a Hive World teeming with billions upon billions of clones, the star system chock full of stations and ships to repel any invader who dared to come and invade, with the majority of forces brought back from their other worlds to try and defend against the coming force. Castle Greyskull simply swiped these defenders aside, the rest of the fleet easily picking off the stragglers who managed to make it through. Ships fell silent, stations went dark, and guns cooled off as the space battle swiftly concluded.

    This only left the grueling ground battle to come, and it put the First Legion to the test. Ground defenses were removed to make way for nearly thirty thousand Space Marines and accompanying auxiliaries to invade the world, falling in drop pods and swiftly mowing down those who stood in their way, careful to avoid excessive collateral damage, a certain amount unavoidable within the sprawling cities of the hives. Almost thirty thousand Astartes…. and still, the battle took nearly three days to come to a close. Three days for over twenty five thousand Astartes to conquer a single world, but not because they were so strong, no. Because there were just so many. Not only were the armies massive, but the cloners quickly fielded cloning technology that hadn't been seen previously. Hulking monstrosities of flesh that could make even an Astartes pause, weapons that could chew through power armor, and yet more besides. Yet not once did the First break, not once did they back down. They were the sons of Adaam Primus, and none could stop the tides of Eternia's finest!

    So it was three days passed, the forces of the cloners battered and diminished, billions of soldiers now dead across the world. Then, and only then, did Adaam finally receive a message sent directly to him from the leaders of these cloners. It was a simple notification of surrender and a request to spare the world, a request that the Primarch was more than happy to oblige. There was, however, one military general who refused to surrender, taking his men and holding out in a deep underground bunker, refusing to give up the fight. However, Adaam responded to this by sending in the Kill Teams his fellow Primarch and brother Alaric had sent him, and in short order the rogue was swiftly dealt with.

    Word was sent out to the rest of the polity and a swift surrender was obtained as the leaders informed all as to the situation. In an odd twist, it was to Adaam personally that they had surrendered, and not the Imperium, although what this truly meant was the subject of whispers among those back in the Imperium proper, with many claiming that Adaam was forging his own empire, still others saying he was given access to ancient technologies to rival even the Mechanicum. Many would say, however, that the Warden of Greyskull was to be commended for his actions and had been justly rewarded with recruitment lands, for he was a true hero through and through.

    Regardless of these mere rumors and oddities, Adaam had triumphed over a surprisingly difficult foe, and been rewarded well for it. Many eyes were upon him, and for every one that was doubtful, yet another was in awe. Only one question remained….

    Where would the Prince of Eternia strike next?
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Necessitas
    +++
    Alaric Quadar was unsure what dishes his brother would enjoy so he set about preparing a simple steak and vegetable dish from home. He decided to use the grox meat instead of the traditional vent rat though. As the slabs of those wondrous bio-engineered lizards sizzled in the pan he added some chopped vegetables and the like to soak up the juices. The recipe didn't call for heavy spices thankfully relying on the vegetables to add flavor. Alaric popped a green tuber into his mouth and savored the crisp crunch. Most vegetables in Rallas were either canned and mushy by the time you got them or dehydrated for preservation. Only the upper layers got access to fresh vegetables and fruit. He idly stirred the vegetables around the skillet before flipping the steaks. He took note that the bread would be done baking soon and then he could lay out the table. It would only be Savnok and him for this meal since and Alaric was hoping to make a good impression. His meeting with Lorgar had been the best of his with his siblings so far, but his meeting with the witch…

    A ding from a timer drew Alaric from his thoughts and he pulled a tray of fresh loaves from the oven and began cutting them and putting butter and a light salt seasoning to flavor them. Savnok's Stormbird had landed and his brother was making his way from the hangar. Alaric finished cooking the steaks and greens and began setting the table. This wasn't supposed to be a formal meeting and hopefully he and Sav could swap stories of their worlds. He covered the plates so they wouldn't lose their warmth and cast his vision to the ship's network. Watching his brother approach his quarters with calm steady steps. He had thankfully foregone armor and finery in favor of a simple unadorned uniform. His face an impassive mask though his eyes took in every detail. A command by Alaric had the door begin to open and Alaric himself stepped forward with his hands outstretched, "Savvie!" came his enthusiastic greeting.

    Savnok regarded him carefully as ever. He did not move to return the hug but neither did he recoil or give an outward show of discomfort. Instead he braced himself and allowed it to happen.

    "Brother, thank you for your invitation." He offered dutifully. He did not fail to observe the kitchen area behind. "You prepared the meal personally," he noted with almost a trace of approval.

    Alaric took the stiffness in stride. Every bit of information he had gathered told of the almost standoffish way the other Primarch interacted with others. He left an arm around his brother's shoulder as he guided him into the room.

    "Of course I did, wasn't gonna put more on my boys or the crew. They have their hands full installing the new workshops so we make our gear on ship. Thanks again for those supplies by the by."

    "It was my duty…"

    "Bah duty or not you had what we needed and you gave it over without even hagglin for anything. Stand up move that was. Anyway let's eat before it gets cold eh?"

    As Savnok lowered himself into the chair Alaric removed the coverings over the dishes. The plates were simple fare of some medium rare grox steaks and cooked vegetables with loaves of buttered bread beside them. Alaric then placed a glass of some fruit juice cocktail Ensign Mina from the sensorium had told him about with a pitcher of the stuff in the center for refills. Taking his own seat Alaric looked to his brother and motioned with his utensils, "Dig in Sav."

    Sav obliged him, although his expression gave no hints he ate carefully but swallowed deeply and inclined his head.

    "Delicious and filling brother. It reminds me of home. I shall have to return the service in due course." He praised surprisingly effusively.

    As they hate Savnok made small talk of some of his favoured recipes but also interspersed the chatter with observations of the Sixth's culture.

    "I am coming to the conclusion that beyond this campaign a longer term collaboration may be beneficial. We appear compatible enough and recent developments have alerted to me to gaps in our capabilities I would like to fill those gaps with your assistance." He explained as he carefully decimated a stake. "Though I assure you that it is your covert and technical skills not your culinary arts that I wish to make use of."

    Could that possibly have been a joke?

    Alaric blinked a bit before a light chuckle escaped his mouth. Smiling widely he replied to Savnok's suggestion.

    "Yeah our lads do cover each others weaknesses well enough and I took the liberty of sending over two hundred of me best boys out to help our siblings. Those that'll work with me anyway."

    The smile faded into a slight frown as he continued, "Our sister Aurelia apparently fought some nasty xeno bugs next door, stellarly speaking. To our own efforts. She crushed'em but they bloodied her nose. She's apparently swinging up to help us gut that Klangan bastard who spit on the Emperor's mercy."

    Alaric began twirling the fork in his hand as his electoos began glowing past the fabric of his clothes.

    "I can't say I'm thrilled to be helping Mechanicum, but these lot have been on their own for a good while and it were Marsy boys who hit Rallas while I was playing catch up with the Emperor and Malc. So I'll play nice and make sure my boys play nice too. It'll be better for all of us if you and yours act as go-betweens though. Less chance of some thick skulled nonsense from all parties."

    Alaric set the fork down and refilled his and Savnok's glasses. He then raised his glass high in the air and said, "A toast brother, to our endeavours and duties. May we bring Mankind out of the morass it has fallen into and drive off the monsters lurking in the shadows."

    Savnok returned the toast. "To uplifting mankind." He echoed powerfully.

    "Father bid her to reinforce us here, I fear I may have underestimated the threat posed either by the traitor or the Xenos. Still it reveals a weakness in the Crusade as a whole, a lack of communication, poor intelligence and the absence of clear instructions. We are either creeping towards a much larger campaign than we planned for or overinvesting in a minor area of front costing us the opportunity for greater expansion elsewhere."

    "Aye It's why I detached my eighth and ninth Chapters to scout out the surrounding systems. I believe we'll need to seriously consider the creation of dedicated scouts moving ahead of us. As for the rest. We can't really fix the communications issue as astropathic communications and courier ships are currently our only means of faster than light communication. I am aware that the Emperor and Malacador are working on alternate means, but there we have it."

    Alric refilled his glass and took another drink before continuing.

    "As for how decentralised our Commands are, that's because of how variable and changing the needs of the Crusade are. We must be diplomats, heralds, and conquerors in one. Given the nature of faster than light communications we can't rely on a more centralised Command. Then there is the need for clear orders as you said. Again our orders are vague because the Emperor trusts, and in fact must trust, our ability to fulfill his designs of unifying Mankind and eliminating threats to it on our own merits. We are the tip of the spear so to speak so of course all we are seeing is chaos around us since we are supposed to be the ones sorting it out. Though I will agree that certain siblings are in need of more direct guidance by our Emperor than others. Rest assured if Lysander or Konrad find anything I will forward it to you directly and even Aurie if she deigns to read my missives."

    He offered the pitcher to Savnok to refill his own drink.

    Savnok did so. Nodding in acceptance of his brother's words. "True, a dedicated scouting force beyond unreliable rogue traders would be a logical first step. And you are right to emphasize flexibility. I believe that my lack of such is a weakness at times though there needs to be some level of improvement in our coordination in future. The correct balance will need careful consideration, experience will likely prove the most adept teacher."

    "That it will, though what you lack in improvisation you make up for in thoroughness. I propose once we are finished with this campaign that the SOG teams assigned to the Fifth Chapter remain with you to help train selected sons of your own in our asymmetrical warfare. This will give you a force capable of the adaptability you require and I'll just fold Marcion into a secondment with you for a year or two to help make up the difference while those Astartes are not on the frontline. As an aside most of our training is done on Rallas IV by my Tenth Chapter under Commander Janos Hall, if you want you can send Astartes there to join in the exercises before they are reassigned elsewhere."

    "I accept your suggestions." Savnok agreed. "In truth I sometimes wonder if the legion system is inefficient. Overly specialised." He admitted. "We are most effective when United."

    "Hmmm true, we should propose a multi-Legion force to our siblings to test this, though I'll be honest Sav alot of us and our Astartes have legitimate grievances with one another or are plain out anti-ethical to each other. If you wish to propose the creation of this hypothetical group then I will support you, but I hold no illusions of it being overly successful."

    Alaric rose from his chair as drones and servo skulls emerged to take the dishes and clean the table. Savnok stood and the two clasped hands.

    "I enjoyed the meal, Sav, and the next one will be on your ship as we orbit Yeredet's Forge in victory eh?"

    "I look forwards to it."
     
    March of Steel
  • Threadmarks


    • One of the many Plant Beasts of Cullret's Fortress​

    The grand march of the 14th Legion had begun simply and effectively, like a well oiled machine they swept over worlds they discovered like the Feral world of Neva II and the Ocean world of Acria XIII. Both taken into compliance with little issue.
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    It was when the force had split to tackle more ground is when the first sign of resistance occurred.

    Venerable Mathos, a Great leader of the Legions past had led his forces against Ork attack on the small Feudal world of Ubi, gaining the respect of the human nobility for his valor making the ensuing negotiation to join the Imperium an easy one.

    Meanwhile the Lord Primarch Ba'al Hamon faced a far graver threat upon the world of Cullret's Fortress.

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    The World of Cullret's Fortress was once a Nature Preserve world, named in honor of a long forgotten scientist, but now it was a vast wild and untamed world filled with Hostile Xeno beasts grown largely off of hunting and unknown means. With some of Flesh and bone, but a strange new monster stalking the trees made of the very forest itself

    When the Primarch had arrived he struck fiercely and precisely onto the world, he knew that somewhere on this world there maybe some piece of human technology left, and he will not let these beasts and abominations defile it for any longer.

    The greatest challenge of the world came not from the beasts, but those who had benefited from making a world of monsters, a Hunting party of Eldar had found the Primarch and his honor Guard deep in the forest and had attempted to slay him. But he was no beast, he was a Son of the Emperor and he would not fall to such craven methods.

    The fight was short and efficient as the Primarch tore the Eldar apart with no mercy. It did not take long for their ship to be found and while using such a vessel would be out of the question, looking into their Data could prove most useful in finding out where these scum dared to hide away.

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    While the compliance to the west was still ongoing, the east was a hotbed of activity. The forces sent to take the region had found the Crimson Lords and the Crimson Gryphons making their way through the area to head north. They did offer to take the five hundred and make use of their scouting for their own efforts campaigning north.

    While the Steel Princes may not have partaken in a majority of the remaining combat, they were able to find and begin examination of several Space Hulks found. Finding many had strange symbols carved into the metal, and some even having some form of wildlife growing in the depths, a strange occurrence that may need further study.
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    It was very sudden when reports coming from the Five Hundred sent to scout Darkura Rex were of immediate reinforcement. It appeared that The Sector of space was not as calm as rogue trader reports made it out to be. Hearing his son's call for aid, Hamon ordered that the forces were meant to be reinforcements of his prior compliance to go and aid them and his Brother's Legions.

    (More to come in The Gryphon's Talon and The Braying Blood)
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Strange Allies
  • Threadmarks

    • (Written by @Another Amoeba )
    "These creatures had grown powerful through their thievery of their betters, let them learn of the consequences."-Commander Adrois

    "Their foul tech-heresy will not stand, even the Machine Cult of Mars would not stand for such foul perversion"-Commander Hollis

    --Words spoken before the Battle of Nemustras​


    The Umbral Watchers, the Emperor's less favored technologists. Though hardly liked among their opposites in the Martian Mechanicum, one of their earliest campaigns following the Emperor's rediscovery of the last Primarch would see them forced into a strange alliance, for a time.

    The Umbral Watchers dispatched their Castigators and Executors chapters under Commanders Hollis and Adrois, respectively, for an expedition north in the direction of Ursh and Yaredet's Forge, and good fortune smiled upon them. Protinthum Prime was a world blockaded; the Umbral Watchers arrived to find beleaguered Human defenders in the inner system desperately warding off Xeno incursions from the outer worlds. The Sixth Legion was quick to forge an alliance with the Protinthians and move to drive these Xenos out.

    The sudden arrival of 10,000 Astartes and their attendant fleets turned the tides instantaneously, and in the coming battle the Umbral Watchers got their first taste of what these Xenos had in store. This conflict was a naval one above all, and these Xenos bolstered their numbers with swarms of techno-heretical combat fighters that took the place of strike-craft. The Imperial fleet seemed to be trundling through a swarm of wasps on their approach to the Xeno fleet, and their own strike-wings were thoroughly suppressed as the Xenos organized their retreat in good order, at least until the Astartes' technologists had a breakthrough.

    Jamming the communications between the Xeno fleet and their strikecraft seemed to initiate some auto-return function within their programming, and their own bombers managed to abuse the distraction to set up their runs on what enemy forces remained in the system, though this battle was hardly decisive.

    From inspecting the aliens' remains and their scrapped warships, it soon became clear that they were strange, almost amphibian creatures that manipulated their surroundings with tentacles like pseudopods. They were technologists, though much of their most advanced weaponry came in the form of looted human technologies from before the Dark Age. These Xenos controlled a small empire centered around their capital system of Nemustras, but most of their military based themselves out of a staging area on the dead world of Dorrhucar VI. The Umbral Watchers left for the world immediately.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Arriving in the Dorrhucar system, however, Commanders Hollis and Adrois knew they'd be in for a fight. Though inferior in quality to an Astartes force, the enemy outnumbered them by a wide margin, and for nearly two weeks the battle in space remained a stalemate, with the Umbrals attempts to deploy strike teams against the Xeno headquarters rebuffed time and again, but once again the Astartes managed to find themselves new friends. The disciplined warriors of Zadarin had long traded with the people of Protinthum Prime for access to their worlds' mineral wealth, and when their traders reestablished communication, they quickly felt which ways the winds were blowing. In exchange for becoming the Sector capital, they lent their armies to the Imperium's cause, instantly tripling the size of the Imperial expeditionary fleet in numbers if not power, and together they brought the hammer down on the Xeno navy in a bloody battle that shattered it.

    But the Xenos ground armies had no intention of folding after their victories in space and, though Dorrhucar VI is a dead world, the Xenos' bounties of old Human technologies precluded much in the way of orbital bombardment. Here, the Umbral Watchers and their allies got a taste of the Xenos' most powerful weapons, mech-suits the size of Astartes that seemed to fill the same niche in their armies as the Space Marines did in the Imperium's, while swarms of combat automata filled in for the army.

    The Umbral Watchers' skills proved invaluable time in again, as they disabled the control centers for these robots through deep strikes or cyberwarfare. Still, the end of this battle had drained both the Zadarin and Umbral Watchers' forces significantly.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    It was at that moment that the Forge-World of Marit Diablo made their play. A colony of Mars infrequently in communication with their homeworld, they had nevertheless heard enough to have a deep distrust of the Umbral Watchers, and their Archmagii only intervened when they knew they were the last allies to which the Astartes could turn. They had breached security on some elements of the Xeno sensor net a while ago, and had been tracking the Imperium's progress through the sector.

    A shaky deal was eventually hashed out, not quite between the Mechanicum and the Watchers as between the Mechanicum and the Zadarians: The Zadarins would accept the Techpriests' assistance in sanctifying their industry, and Marit Diablo would provide supplies, arms, and reinforcements in support for the final push.

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    So it was that a combined fleet of Astartes forces, human allies, and the armies of the Red Planets struck out at the last Xeno stronghold on Nemustras One. Even though their fleet had hardly recovered, the Xenos more than compensated through a dense array of defensive orbital platforms looted from fallen human empires. Similarly, survivors from the first two engagements had begun developing responses to the Marines' cyberattacks on their defensive networks. Over the next few weeks, it became clear the only paths to victory would be bleeding themselves dry storming the fortress or settling in for long months of siege, both of which could put an end to their new alliance.

    That is, those were their options if the and only if the Umbral Watchers Nemustras One.
    Neither of their allies were particularly happy to hear it. The Zadarins feared the potential for massive losses, while the Mechanicum decried the damage it could cause to the planet's lost technology. Nevertheless, with enough bargaining over who got what spoils and quiet appeals to the fact that nobody would get anything if the Umbral Watchers had to call in reinforcements from the Imperium, they all three came to an agreement.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Forming their armadas onto one powerful spearhead led by the Astartes, the allied forces dove into the maelstrom of enemy fire. Beset by swarms of drones and the full firepower of the remaining Xeno armada, they charged. And at the opportune moment, the last moment before they were fully among the defensive stations, their armada opened up like a flower, task forces pulling away under punishing fire. They had delivered their payload.

    Left behind, racing onward powered by sheer inertia was a collection of hulked warships, crudely bundled together. The Xeno defenders rushed to focus fire on this ad-hoc asteroid, but it was too late. It slammed first into a primary defensive platform, and then the whole assemblage scoured the continent where the Xenos maintained their capital city: destroying power arrays, electronic brains, their entire high command. The Allied navy had whipped around to exploit the gap before the Xenos had even a moment to process, diving under the defensive net and charting perilous courses at the very edge of atmosphere to remain under the Xeno guns, fring upward into the disoriented enemies as they tried to reconstitute the control networks for their autonoma.

    The battle was already over, but the remaining Xeno armies and fleets managed to make the Umbral Watchers and their allies pay a heavy price for their victory. A small blessing came in the form of the Mechanicum's zealousness, as the armies of Marit Diablo took it upon themselves to cleanse the world of the remaining Techno-Heretical combat automata simultaneous to organizing the recovery of lost technology. The whole system was soon closed off and occupied by the Forge World's reserve armies, a quarantine only broken by the clearly undesired presence of the Umbral Watchers' observers, as agreed upon.

    At the close of the campaign, the Mechanicum volunteered one last piece of information to the Sixth Legion: the sensor net they had breached was not the Xenos'. In fact, its satellites were still transmitting, up to the northeast.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    EXPERIMENT DATA OF EDEN PROJECT LOST.....RECOMENDED ACTION?

    .....BEGIN ESTABLISHMENT OF PROJECT OUROBORUS.

    ACKNOWLEDGED
     
  • Threadmarks
    • A Tale of Misery
  • Threadmarks


    • Many Years Ago

    We find a world in the midst of famine and plague

    "Please oh Gods above, Save us from this punishment"

    We see a young boy praying at a small alter of rock and bone

    A whisper of a voice answers "Punishment?"

    "Oh thank oh Lord for answering this unworthy one's prayers, please, my sister and father require aid. I have nothing to offer but my life in your service, but please help them."

    "I could help them, or I could help all, for a price."

    "A-a price? What do you mean oh god of the skies?"

    "Hehehe I am no God of the Skies my child, I am more then that."

    "But which of the Gods are you then lord?"

    "My name is Calimixis, I am beyond such Gods of this world, tell me what is your name child?"

    "I am Vikmar, my lord"

    "Well then young Vikmar,let me tell you what you need to do, to save your world."
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Years Later

    What was once a world of ruin, now shines as a paradise.

    "My Lord, all of our world thanks you for your kindness, we have grown strong with your gifts."

    We see a young man, adorned in fine robes and looking over a bustling city of people who know no pain, not like his youth.

    "I am sensing trouble my child, what ails you?"

    "The Price you mentioned so long ago, I worry that several villages are not enough, misery still befalls our people in small ways. What must we do to be rid of all such malady?"

    "The Answers lie in the Stars Vikmar."

    That night, many a great mind conjures images of ships to travel the great stars themselves.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Many Years Later

    The World burns as forces from a distant land come to bring vengeance upon the people.

    "Please oh lord, answer me, the enemy comes to our door with monsters in the guise of men, what must we do?"

    We see a elderly man, his robe adorned with signs of his many years of devotion, kneeling at a weathered alter of rock and bone inside a grand temple.

    "So it would seem that this game has ended."

    "Game? My lord what do mean, we did has you commanded, subjected thousands to suffering to ensure our people felt none, what Game do you mean?"

    "What I mean is that now our deal is over and I must return what I have taken."

    "But...all that we have done?"

    "You were a able pawn, Vikmar. But your use as run out, know that I will personally see to your return as thanks"

    "Please my Lord, I beg of you don't d-"
    .
    .
    "The time of revelation approach's my parish, it is time we welcome the son of the Anathema to our world."

    The skittering of clawed feet leave the temple as the mist closes in around a still body, his face frozen in eternal agony.​
     
  • Threadmarks
    • THE LANDING​

    The stormbird rocked and juddered, alarms blaring.

    Argel Tal heard Xaphens voice crackle over the voice. The black armored Chaplin's helmet was like all other Chaplin's, forming in such ways as to resemble a human skull. Its eternal grin forever laughing out to the world. "Remember the oaths you took, brothers! Today we bring the Emperors light to these bastards, today we bring His justice! The sins they have committed against kin are unforgivable. And as His Angels, it is our duty to mete out punishment. The atrocities they have committed all across this sector have lasted for decades, but no more. The Primarch had judged them, and found them wanting. Keep to your faith, trust in the Primarch, and we will emerge the saviors of this world."

    Xaphens smooth voice was somewhat diluted by the vox, a mechanical growl that became all of them when they donned their helmets. Various affirmatives followed the Chaplin's statement, many of the marines within Argels personal command squad were going over the pre-battle rituals. Some were holding up beads to their armored heads, doubtlessly muttering words of prayer to themselves. Others were checking over their weapons one last time. Some simply sat stock still, waiting the moment combat would be among them. For his part, Argel was checking his weapons. A hand going over his bolter and power sword. He blink-clicked a rune in his helmet, opening up a private vox between him and Xaphen.

    "A pretty speech, Chaplin." He said, his voice rough and coarse compared to the Chaplin's smooth tones. "Did you make that one up on the spot?"

    "I did!" Xaphens chuckled. "I wouldn't be a very good Chaplin if I couldn't do a bit of speech crafting on the spot, now would I?" Xaphen was sitting in his seat, as relaxed as an Astartes could possibly be in full armor. A hand resting on the cozius that was as much symbol of office as it was weapon. The Chaplin's always stood apart from their brothers. A fact solidified by the black armor and skull-masks that were their badge of honor. The spiritual advisors of the legion had to be visible.

    "I suppose not." Argel Tal said in response, keeping his own eye on the stream of reports that poured in. The Followers were putting up whatever they could, it seemed. But already several landing points had been carved. He frowned a little, listening in it seemed as if a fierce resistance was being put up. "We may be landing hard."

    "Brother," Xaphen said as his chuckle transformed into a laugh. "Thats how we always land."

    +++++++++++++++++++++
    ​
    "For the-"

    The screaming fanatic's cry ended not in jubilant victory, but with a wet crunch as Argel Tals bolter slammed into his face. The momentum of the freshly made corpse meeting an immovable object made it do a whole flip before it landed on the ground. But the captain wasn't even looking. His bolter barked twice, kicking up dust and blood as the booming shells hit their mark. His power sword cut cleanly through the air, slaying three shotgun carrying fanatics that were hiding behind the fallen wall. All around him, Word Bearers were engaged in battle. Chainswords roaring and bolters barking as the assault company cut into the massed group of Followers. They were apparently massing for another suicidal charge on a nearby Imperial Army position, the sixth in the day. Argel Tal had come to see that it would be their last.

    Force kicked into him, pushing into him even as his armor's systems adjusted to it. Dirt plumes rising into the sky in tandem with the explosion of force. He turned his gaze immediately, landing on a nearby Follower mortar crew. They were the third pair to rush into that position after the first two had been taken care of by Argel Tals men. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of respect. If that had landed a bit more to the right it would've rammed straight into his helmet. He would've needed terminator armor to survive that, power armor or no. That they even managed to get that close was already impressive.

    He angled up his bolter for a shot, but held back as a roar of engines alerted him to a grey armored warrior slamming into their mists. A chainsword roared through the air, cutting through one man, the mortar, and decapitating the last. He offered a nod to the warrior, who returned it with a brief salute before seven screaming, terrified mortals opened up on him with autoguns. The small arms fire pinged off of cermite for a moment, but only just. For within a second the warrior was already tearing into their midst, another Word Bearer rushing in to aid him. Argel Tal shook his head at the strange resilience of these mortals, already looking around for more targets when he noticed another, different engine roar.

    "Tank, mark 180." He said into the open vox as he powered up his jetpack. Other Astartes did the same as the tank rolled around the corner and fired off a shot. For the most part, it only mashed up the already dead and its own people. But one warrior was unlucky enough to be caught in the secondary explosion's as the tank shell set off the mortar rounds. The smooth ascent turned into a brutal crash, dirt filing into the air. Argel Tal narrowed his eyes at that, turning his gaze to the tank. "Sixth squad, see to your fallen member. Seventh, your with me." He said in harsh, clipped tones. Equally clipped replied flowed after them as Argel Tal burned his engines towards the tank, and advancing Follower squads around it.

    It attempted to fire off another shot at the incoming Astartes. That was a mistake. Even as he landed on top of it, he thanked the Emperor that their bravery was not the smart kind. If it had been, they would've opened up on the fallen warrior and made sure he was dead alongside whatever squadmates that came to tell them. His powersword cut through the tanks layered armor like it wasn't even there. A single sweep leaving a trail of molten metal. He blasted off again, leaving behind only a fragmentation grenade. The squads that followed him, which were only moments ago cutting into the surrounding infantry, also disengaged.

    Cermite boots thudded onto freshly churned dirt as a tank burned in several meters in front of them. In the distance, the roar of bolters and crackle of autoguns could be heard like rolling thunder. He looked at the burning armored carcass for a moment, before turning away. His gait found him near the fallen warrior, an apothecary already working him. His armor was blackened near the bottom, his right leg mulch. "You're getting slow." Argel Tal said to him, his tone nearly cold. Jor somehow managed a laugh. "Perhaps, captain. But I think I must be doing something right. For the Emperor surely must be with me."

    Argel Tal laughed along with him, leaning down to clasp him on the shoulder. "He may very well be, Jor. Rest easy, the apothecary's will see to your swift recovery." He stood straight once again, about to return to the rest of the gathered squad when something slammed into his head. Being that he had on a cermite power armored helmet, all it did scratch the paint a bit as it bounced off the helmet. It certainly did get his attention, and he turned his head to the churned mudfield that used to be a garden of sorts. He watched as a Follower, obviously wounded by the slowly spreading patch of blood by his side, limped towards them. Autopistol raised and fairly steady as it barked off. None of the gathered Astartes moved as the man walked towards them, slowly but steadily.

    "Heathens..."The man gasped out between clenched bloodstained teeth. His eyes were wide in pain and fury. Terror only seemed to be a distant thought to this one. "Heathens! You dare to defile this world. This sacred world of we...the chosen..."

    He coughed, blood flecking out. His autopistol was clicking empty, every round spent. Slowly, shakily, he emptied the clip and began to reload it. Argel Tal moved forward then, separating himself from the gathered squads. He reached the bleeding Follower by the time managed to load another clip into his autopistol. Its sharp cracks ringing out as bullets slammed into cermite. Bouncing off as they did little else but scratch the runes inscribed. That Argel Tal simply stood there and took it only seemed to enrage the man further.

    "Surrender." The Word Bearers voice came out as a harsh metallic growl.

    "Beasts!" The man found the strength in him to scream, even to throw his empty pistol at the Astartes head. The barrel bent slightly as it bounced off unyielding cermite."All of you, beasts! W-We will never give in. Not to monsters like you-"

    The power sword flashed out, its energy field hissing as blood turned to smoke. The Follower dropped to the ground, fury and hate gone. Argel Tal didn't even give him a second glance as he stepped over the mans body. "7th company. Sector 0980 is clear. Advance towards the next objectives." Dozens of engines roared to life as the assault company rose into the sky, gunning for another set of targets putting up higher than expected resistance. All they left behind was a field of carnage.

    +++++++++
    ​
    Argel Tal and Xaphen stood in a corner of the ruined building. It used to be a local government building, from what he understood. It appeared to have been shelled in the Imperial assault on the city. Perhaps it looked good when it was whole. A proud part of the local culture. All it was now, however, was the husk where compliance action was being organized. Food and medical aid were being gathered for distribution to the civilian populace. Army troopers stood guard nearby, tired eyes watching over the gathering of hungry faces. They may not have been enough, but the presence of several Astartes made sure none would try their luck by forcing the issue. Doubtless many of them had already seen what the Emperors Angels of Death were capable of.

    "At this rate I'll need to give over my entire suit over to the serfs." Xaphen grumbled, flexing a blood red gauntlet. "Blood everywhere."

    The Chaplin had been in the thick of it. He'd managed to personally destroy six tanks with that cozius of his. And from what Argel Tal had heard, his roaring exultations to the Emperor had even managed to send some of the Followers into a small retreat. Breaking the hold of whatever false god the Followers worshiped. Personally, Argel Tal thought that would be more the transhuman dread finally finding someone to actually effect upon this population of supposed humans. Doubtless none of them actually know who the Emperor, beloved by all, was.

    "I doubt you'll be the only one." Argel Tal said, his own gauntlets were practically dyed crimson by now. He wasn't much of a fan of it. "But I don't think the serfs will need to go over the whole suit, will they? Its just your gauntlets."

    "The joints, man!" Xaphen replied waving his arms. "These little bastards were decidedly fond of trying to swarm me. I've no idea whats got worked into the joints, but I swear something did."

    Argel Tal raised an eyebrow at that, wholly unnoticed by the Chaplin due to the helmets they both wore. He gave his friend a once over, noting all the dozens of specks of blood over the rest of Xaphens armor. But he couldn't find much of anything that could possibly impeded the movement of power armor. Or so he thought, but as Xaphen moved his right arm Argel Tal noticed a hitch in the movement. Silently he pointed a finger towards it, and Xaphens helmeted head swooped down. Armored fingers followed shortly after, and after a few seconds of cursing the Chaplin dug out an autobullet.

    "Bah." The man grumbled. "Autoguns. A pitiful weapon to supply an army with. If you can't get bolters, then why not Las guns? I've seen the damage those things can do enmass."

    "You're just upset that all those heroic, pict-worthy charges of yours managed get your armor stuck." Was Argel Tals simple reply. Xaphen laughed at that, shaking his head. "I'm still going to get the serfs to look it over."

    They sat in silence. Watching the Army manage to slowly get a line forming. Men, women, and children huddled together. Some sent sullen glares towards the Imperials. Most simply kept their heads down, took the aid packages, and scuttled off into the rest of the city. None tried anything, not with four utterly crimson warriors standing right alongside the Imperial aid workers. The armor of the Word Bearers was supposed to be a simple grey. None of the pageantry displayed by other legions. Just a simple adherence to the Emperor and His will.

    "What happened to them?" Xaphen asked, all humor gone from his tone.

    "Their stormbird was shot down over a part of the city that was firmly under enemy control." Argel Tals voice wasn't quite cold, but the rough tones had also lost their humor. "From what I can tell, they were forced to cut their way through hordes of fanatics to reach friendly lines once again. They ran out of ammunition a few hours before they got back. Had to use their knives and fists."

    Xaphen grunted, eyeing the warriors for a moment. "Hard work. If you'll excuse me captain, duty calls."

    Argel Tal nodded, and the Chaplin began to stride towards the warriors. He clasped a hand on one of their shoulders, and a few words saw them moving away from the aid workers. With another group of grey armored warriors moving in to take their place. Argel Tal looked over the crowd carefully, seeking to pick out any differences in mood that may be a cause for concern after the shift. But, to his satisfaction, he found none. Settling into his position once more he couldn't help but feel a note of gratefulness that the legions time on this world would be over soon enough. A garrison would have to be left, and doubtlessly Astartes presence would be needed to bring them into the Imperial Creed as per standards. But the air here stank with something he didn't quite like. He would do his duty, of course. But if he could, he'd see about staying in the fleet in-orbit....though perhaps a different kind of chat with Xaphen would be more in order. That in mind, he settled back. Content to wait his turn.

    Which was, of course, when the screaming started.
     
    Last edited:
    The Uphill March
  • Threadmarks
    • The Uphill March ​

    The Light Bringers. One of the greatest Legions, the bravest of all Astartes, the glorious sons of Axinos Bruti, defenders of the wondrous lands of Actium. Or at least, that is what they say, when asked about such things. To the rest of the Imperium, they are but one of twenty Legions, servants of the Emperor and conquers for Mankind. And like the rest of their brethren, it was time for the Fifteenth Legion to march to war.

    Many things would come to pass in the coming times, with several events pushed forward by Axinos's will. The two hundred thousand Astartes under Axinos Bruti's command were split into several groups, some staying home to recruit and defend or going out to attend to separate tasks, while the majority went out with the Primarch, heading beyond the borders in order to conquer land for the Imperium, or more accurately Actium, if Axinos had his way. The first, and perhaps least interesting group was that led by one Mister Grinner, an important figure in Actium politics, although many wouldn't know this. Axinos had given Grinner an important task, to seek out and identify ancient artifacts for the greater good of Mankind. Not wishing to let his master down, Grinner immediately set about searching through his contacts and questioning a great deal of individuals to see what he could find. And, perhaps surprisingly, he found success… to a point.

    Grinner was quick to identify several locations rumored to hold technology, several of them turning up empty except for some petty trinkets and valuables to claim, which Grinner was more than happy to take for his own investment. His greatest lead was towards a cluster of stars down south, ruled by an isolationist state that held ancient technology. Cloning technology, it was rumored in hushed tones. Grinner prepared to investigate further - just as reports of the First Legion's conquests of the star cluster started to pass by his desk, and the opportunity was swiped from his hands all too soon. Nonetheless, he still reported to Axinos his findings, also commenting on how another nearby cluster of stars was rumored to hold great cashes of technology within, for those brave enough to try.

    It was ironic for Axinos, for those very stars rumored to hold such riches were his goal for conquest. The world of Redstar, rumored to be a place where a great many riches lay, was the first major goal of the campaign. So he laid his plans, seeking to scout out ahead of his fleet. The wealth of Actium was put to use in drawing several Rogue Traders to Axinos's call, although not as many as he had originally hoped. Still, several Rogue Traders accepted contracts from Axinos, the deals lucrative enough and the Primarch's desires simple. He merely wanted someone to tell him what was ahead of him, to forewarn him of dangers. Several dockets of info were traded in for cash immediately, infoming Axinos of the state of certain worlds between him and Red Star.

    However, One Rogue Trader, a younger man by the name of Randaz Roll, wanted the big prize. The largest reward was offered to the one who told Axinos of what lay in Red Star itself, and this Rogue Trader wanted the prize. So, being new and foolish, and figuring he could simply run if things got rough, he took what assets he had and went straight for the star itself. When he didn't reappear for quite some time, many simply assumed that he was dead, and moved on.

    Axinos had more than enough info to approach Redstar, and so moved forth, taking with him over one hundred thousand Space Marines, with plenty of accompanying auxiliaries and navy. However, this proved to be largely unnecessary, as Axinos experienced a rather large amount of worlds simply surrendering to him. Even for an Astartes Legion, used to having many human worlds quake in awe and give in at the sight of them, the Light Bringers experienced a rather easy time of initial conquest. A spot of luck… or something more.

    Several members of the Administratum noticed this development, initially ecstatic that such worlds were falling so easily. However, such ecstatic delight turned into questionable frowns as it was discovered that several of these worlds had surrendered to the Empire of Actium, and not the Imperium. Still, they were part of the Imperium either way, and so it was overlooked… but not ignored.

    Regardless, Axinos did well on his march forward, quickly sweeping through the space separating him from Redstar. He had almost arrived at the world itself when his forces were visited by a sight that surprised them. A force coming from the Imperium intercepted them, and Axinos was hailed. It was led by none other than Randaz Roll, who proudly yet respectfully declared that he had earned the reward for investigating Redstar, and even some worlds around it. His evidence? Why, he would show the Primarch himself.

    The world of Redstar, and indeed everything from there to Monia, was ruled by a group known as the Tri-Star Federation. This group of mostly humans, with a decent portion of the pop being various xenos, had banded together to protect themselves from the Long Night. To do this, the Federation had deployed various ancient technologies, defense systems and resources, using them to combat anyone who came near. At least, anyone who came near with conquest or foul intent in mind.

    Since Randaz had neither in store, he was allowed to enter the space of Redstar - provided he allowed some brief searches of course, nothing personal, just didn't want to let certain types of individuals in. Agreeing to this, Randaz was then finally given the prize he had come for: to see Redstar, and evaluate it. And oh, was there so much to evaluate. Vast system defenses that only became more impressive the further in he went, ships patrolling around the verdant world, abundance of wealth to be had. It was a glorious world, and one that Randaz took full advantage of. It took him no time to wheel and deal his way into at least a meager sum of profits, which he then used to go to another world in the Federation and trade there. And then another. And then another. When Randaz had managed to shrewdly collect a tidy profit, as well as details on many worlds surrounding Redstar, and the jewel itself, he decided it was time to return home. Of course, Axinos had already left by the time he did so, but it was simple to Warp to where the fleet currently was, and so… here they were.

    Axinos took these reports, congratulating the Trader and informing him he would be rewarded promptly. With such vital info in hand, the Primarch and his Sons then turned to the final prize in their journey. Redstar. Knowing now what to expect, and knowing resistance would be hard, Axinos almost buckled, almost decided to gather more of his forces from abroad to combat this defensive titan. But the prospect of technology and wealth, and more than one whisper by Randaz that there was something more present, drove Axinos onward. Knowing for a fact that the Tri-Star Federation would never accept Imperium rule, Axinos knew he had one choice. To conquer by force.

    Over a hundred thousand Astartes, vast naval units, and accompanying auxiliary forces Warped to the world of Redstar, and began their assault. No time was wasted in identifying and breaking a number of defenses, and yet still there were many more. Ship after ship were lost in fiery explosions, Axinos's forces taking a beating they had never experienced before. And yet, still, he held. Ancient defenses, powered and functional through old human technology, were ripped apart through sheer force, so many cannons were there. It took quite some time, but eventually, the space of Redstar was conquered. The ground battle was no less of a slugfest, with even Marines dying in large numbers from the sheer firepower brought against them.

    And yet… the Light Bringers held.

    Not once did they back down, not once did they need to give grounher. Inch by inch, they took the world, the system, and inch by inch, they succeeded. After nearly four months of brutal sieging, the entire system fell to Axinos and his Legion.

    Redstar had fallen, but for quite a price indeed.

    However, this was not all that occurred to Axinos and his Legion. Oh no, for many events occured, and still more were left. One such event was the fumbling of aid sent by Ahurini and Alaric. Axinos, distrusting both parties, had seen to it that both were thoroughly investigated and watched during their entire stay with him. However, what was meant to be a quiet, secret investigation rather suddenly became quite noticeable when one of the officers in charge of Ahurini's medical aid, in company with a valued and respected member of the Kill Teams, went to openly question Axinos himself about such treatment. Apparently the efforts of his Astartes to subtly watch the two groups had been for naught, as they both had noticed rather quickly. The Kill Teams had simply ignored it, while the Medics had decided it would blow over in time, expecting initial wariness. Both parties had become quite agitated, however, when the investigating and spying didn't stop in the slightest. In fact, it had only gotten worse over time, and was now becoming quite aggravating to both Alaric's Kill Teams and Ahurini's Medics as the campaigning Axinos accomplished advanced. Thus why they had approached Axinos, to ask why they were suspected. Of course, when Axinos refused to explain why beyond them being suspicious and him looking out for his Legion, they returned to their own parties, unable to argue with a Primarch's word… but they certainly would not forget.

    Elsewhere, other forces Axinos had sent out went far and wide, scouts that would seek out the next target of the Imperium. Scouts that would find empires, inform the Light Bringers of where they were, and then move on. Scouts that sought to increase… Axinos's standing in particular. Scouts that hit two forces in particular, with a good portion of said scouts dying between these particularly nasty and surprising opponents.

    Further south, one of Foul Decay and Rot. More easterly, the other of Green Might and Bloodlust. They had found Hrud and Orks, and reported back to Actium. Now it was only time to remove them.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • The Blade of Crimson Strikes a Dark Heart
  • Threadmarks

    • The Only Known Image of the Eldar Warrior who battled Alhirad- Captured by Rembrancer Alio Talken​




    The journey of the Gryphons was one of conflict, as they journeyed from the world of Rus and to the north, they had found a wild world of beasts that provided a much needed relief from the pain of losing their once grand homeworld.

    However, while they had planned to continue north, the Primarch Khaldeon had received some interesting reports of nearby systems holding planets that could perhaps be a suitable replacement for the Homeworld, giving the Legion a new place to train their aspirants and raise their faithful Gryphons. So the Primarch and his most seasoned warrior decided to take the Legion in two paths, like the great wings of the Gryphons, with the Primarch securing worlds to the east for the Legion and what remains of Azul's people. And Alhirad who shall continue the pathway north.

    And while Khaldeon would face his own battle of mighty proportions, it is Alhirad who we shall follow this day.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    At first the worlds they crossed offered no true struggle, like with the Xeno world of Barghast falling to the might of true warriors of the Imperium. Their massive spires that reached into the atmosphere were unable to withstand the Masters of the Skies and their assault.

    But it was the world of Zarlan XI that gave them a true battle. The world was host to a trio of horrible Xeno races that battled for dominance on the jungle world. It was between a strange planet dwelling Eldar of some kind with great reptilian Beasts and rather primitive garb, a Ork tribe with a strange fixation on Hands, making gauntlets of scrap metal and animal parts to both rip apart their foes and punch them into a pulp. The last group was an unknown Xeno race, which appeared to be a non-intelligent race of Biological matter with no true form, acting more as a living wave of flesh consuming all in it's path.

    As the Gryphons made their way across the planet adding a fourth faction to this madness, Alhirad decided that the relatively unknown xeno race should be prioritized over the Eldar and Orks, they were a known factor and could be countered with enough proper strategy. These creatures required a more direct and simple method. Bombardment from the skies out of the mass's reach and frequent use of flamers made quick work of the mass, with even Eldar and Ork attacks focusing on it as well.


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    The Orks were the second to fall as their Warboss died, his head skewered by Alhirad's spear in a mighty duel which lasted an entire day in single combat, the Orks infighting making picking them off a simple process for the Gryphons and the Eldar.

    When the last Ork fell, the Eldar and the Crimson Gryphons at first seemed to be evenly matched, the Gryphons making the skies their main advantage while the Eldar used the ground to the best of their capabilities.

    It was here something strange happened, a single Eldar Warrior wearing Green armor of some kind approached the Astartes Camp, at first the reaction was to attack, but Alhirad stopped his brothers before they could open fire. He has fought many battles and has seen many foes and the Eldar may be a mysterious group but Alhirad has seen this kind of warrior before, when one approaches with only weapons of a warrior at their side, it is a matter to be settled with a duel.

    Taking it upon himself to deal with this matter he approached, the Eldar told him that if he won this duel then the Eldar of this world would leave, not trusting this, Alhirad asked what would his brothers have to do if he lost. The Eldar explained he did not expect that humans would honor anything he requested and the most likely option was that the battle for the world would continue.

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    Knowing that getting any more information out of this Xeno would be impossible, Alhirad readied himself for a battle. His hand ready to reach for his Spear, hoping to end this fight quickly.

    While his opponent seemed to be planning the same, his sword glowing with a strange xeno technology. To the marines, watching all was still for only a moment, then a mighty clash of Force weapons and Eldar Wraithbone as the two blades struggled to gain advantage.

    The two warriors backed off to get a better strike, with the Eldar remaining motionless in a defensive stance, and Alhirad unleashing a flurry of strikes to many areas. Some connected, while others were deflected.

    In the Eldars almost dance like movements with his blade, Alhirad took many blows that sliced his armor, but he withstood this pain as he let out a cry of his Legion and ran his spear through the left shoulder of the Eldar.

    While still wounded, the Eldar continued as if he felt no pain and ran his sword through Alhirad's stomach, not deterred espite his pain. Alhirad pushed with all his might and made the spear cut in an arc slicing the torso and chest of the Eldar Open.

    Like the beginning all was still, the two warriors, both with grievous wounds standing unmoving. Until the Eldarwarrior fell back his blade still stuck into Alhirad. The Apothecaries took no time to rush and aid their leader

    True to the Xenos word, no more Eldar was found on the planet. All seeming to have vanished with no trace left.
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    Wounded but undeterred from continuing on their path, they had a slight detour, finding a desolate world with very little life on it, aside from small human enclaves who seemed to have a complex understanding of defensive warfare.

    It was these humans who told tales of Dark Ships that came to steal their people away, who told of the long eared not-humans who tormented them for centuries now. It became clear that Alhirad and his warriors were on the trail of Eldar.

    So with a set purpose to destroy these foul scavengers and raiders they continued north, leaving the World of Cadia in the hands of Imperial Administration members to find it's best use. The Gryphons had Eldar to slay.

    It would be this moment that historians would chronicle as the first meeting to a great challenge of the Imperium and it's Primarchs.

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    "We had thought the Cadians to be exaggerating when they told us of the numbers, we were fools"
    - Captain Irodin after The Battle of Ichars​


    The World of Ichars, a world of importance to the Briar Heart Cabal of Eldar and site of the Crimson Gryphons first battle.

    The battle itself was short and brutal, The Eldar came in far greater numbers then any of the Legion had expected, making use of their xeno technology to teleport into the Gryphons ships and cripple vital crew members in honorless strikes.

    Despite the Gryphons own prowess in battle, not even Alhirad could keep up with the speed of the Eldar attack, he knew that he would have to order a tactical retreat and call upon the rest of the Legion for this.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    As the Fleet retreated, Alhirad received a Vox from the Eldar ships, a profoundly vile voice laced with arrogance was heard speaking.

    "Pitiful Mon-Kaigh barbarians, we had tolerated your pitiful excuse of an Imperium to grow like a festering wound to our south for far too long, you have gifted our generosity with an act that even the cowards of the traitorous Craftworld would not dare. I Pryon-Dios of the Noble House of Dios, first of his name and true successor of the Aeldari Empire and proper heir to the throne of Ulthuan, declare war upon you, know that i will bring the full might of both enemy and ally families to my dynasty to bring you down. Make peace with your gods Mon-Kaigh."

    The last sight Alhirad had of the system, was of many more Eldar ships appearing from nowhere, bearing different colors and many symbols.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • The Hymn of Dread
  • Threadmarks



    • "When you See The Fortress of Sen, you will know it's purpose is War"- Common Saying of Travelers

    "A Dread and Terrible Fortress it is, but we are the warriors of mankind and soldiers to the True Master of the Universe and we will Break it"- Primarch Sampson of the Shield Bearers​

    While other Primarchs across the stars fought great battles and charged blindly into the unknown, Sampson of the Shield Bearers considered a different approach. One that would give his Legion all the information they would need for the anomaly that was the Fortress of Sen.

    A name that struck fear into any traveler of the Stars, so dangerous was it, that none have ever gotten close enough to it and return. The region of space was known to harbor many wrecks of ships who had tried to pass the Fortress.
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    It was this terrible fortress that Sampson had decided to break, but not without knowing what he truly was up against. So with the great mind of a Primarch, Sampson built Ten great and mighty fortresses that would become known as The Stars of Ishmael, giant things of metal that listen to the songs of the Stars themselves to better learn of the foes to fight.

    The construction of which was a task the Legion and many others took too with pride, getting each piece to the exact specifications of their Primarch and his plan to take down the fortress. And perhaps they will continue to serve for millennia to come

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    At first all that was heard was silence...Then a song was heard, one that played across all of the mighty fortresses of Sampson and his Sons, one he thought would never reach his ears again, it was a song of blood and of rebellion. The Hymn of Shoteck played in his ears, coming from the dreaded fortress.

    For a moment the mighty Primarchs composure was shaken, but he regained it to issue the order to continue monitoring, to find any information that may aid the attack. Though his hand gripped the head of his Maul in anger, cracking the head of the weapon. His mind raced to think of what this could mean and at the implications that could be at play, was the Cult of Xeno origin, did they somehow escape the purges or were they implanted onto Shavuot and tried to gain followers for this Fortress? Questions raged in the Primarchs mind, but his duty came first.

    And so it was that the Eleventh Legion learned from their watch of the fortress, how no ship came from it, how nothing ever went to it and the exact positions of it's main defensive measures. All so that they could face an old enemy of their Father on the best terms and advantage they could.

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    Far past the fortresses, the hosts of the Shield Bearers scouted the far regions, some running into the sons of the First Legion in their compliance and offering tactical aid they had gathered. Many worlds were found that offered great benefit to the Imperium, such as the Worlds of Noxus and Demacia, two worlds that have been in a cold war for what seems like centuries and both with impressive facilities and weaponry that could be of use to the crusade.

    But the true Prize was the discovery of a world known as Old Nibrock, a world that was a great repository of knowledge before the Old Night. Perhaps it is this world that contains history once thought lost or the secrets of how the Old Night happened. One can only theorize without entering the vast world for themselves and seeing,
     
  • Threadmarks
    • The Skittering of the Mind
  • Threadmarks

    • For Eons We have lived and consumed, uncaring as the flesh beings fought their wars.

    Feasting on those that dared to venture into our realm and hunting for new [PREY]

    We watch as the flesh ones wander and search the Great Sea, these new ones have...something new?

    They are....BRIGHT
    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    We Watch as the Flesh ones enter a age of [DOOM/DEATH/DESPAIR] but [SHINES BRIGHTEST] still watches them with intensity.

    We have tried to hunt that which We can, but [PREY] is harder to find, the [ABBERATIONS] still plague the Great Sea

    We must be patient and wait for the two [APEX] to kill each other, We have done so once and will do once again.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    We watch as [SHINES BRIGHTEST] creates young, they hold pieces of it's power

    This one that is Part of [SHINES BRIGHTEST] hears Our songs and may search for Us.

    We should welcome them.

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    We watch as the [ABBERATIONS] take the pieces and scatter them.

    We decide to continue to follow the [ONE WHO HEARS] and not the other [PIECES OF WHO SHINES BRIGHTEST]

    They will be Our Piece in [THE GAME]

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    We found [ONE WHO HEARS] speaking to a group of [PREY]

    They seem to want to find Us, this is an opportunity.

    The [PREY] has always been skilled in moving the Great Sea, but to Bring one of Us into the Realms of Flesh, requires great sacrifice.

    We watch as many of the [PREY] die to bring us into being.

    "WE ARE NOT ALONE" The last words of the last [PREY] were screamed out in it's fleshy words, such noise was unpleasant.

    But the feast was nourishing. A much needed means to enter the Realm of Flesh.




    We see [ONE WHO HEARS] standing before Us, clutching their head, Our Song overwhelming their feeble

    "WHO ARE YOU?" they ask

    And We Respond

    [WE ARE KRELL/DOMINATORS/PUPPETEERS/PSYRENS/ENSLAVERS] We spoke as one

    [WE WISH TO FEED]

    It was a sudden shutter as the [ONE WHO HEARS] called the powers of Great Sea and sent Us adrift once again.

    But we still hear them, and they hear US.​
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Deserts and Xenos
  • Threadmarks

    • Once a "Booming" Town on the world of Dithcor​


    While the rest of the Myrmidons fought in the Thule Warzone, others of the Legion had their own mission to the north, striking out to the worlds of Dithcor and Zalura's Fall.

    Led by two influential members of the Legion, valiant Captain Flavius and Stalwart Argos Vela Estruscus. Both given command by their Lady Primarch and told to bring compliance to these northern worlds and give a suitable bulwark against the unknown horrors in the galaxy.

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    The world of Dithcor was a backwater world if there ever was one, once a prosperous world, it had been hit hard in the Old night as a great drought hit the world and left a great majority of it a barren desert populated by roving bands of humans.

    When the Myrmidons had found the world they were greeted by various groups trying to carry favor to these "Giants from the stars" all wishing to gain their aid for their petty wars. The only ones not doing so were either monstrous in their own right and attacked on sight or several mountain lords and lady's with their own supply of water, denying the Astartes access to their holds.

    Finding little value in many of these groups and seeing them as either Techno Barbarians under a new name or wastrel's who offered nothing to the Imperium if they were to be put in charge, Legion Master Argos Vela almost considered wiping out all the leadership of the planet and establishing something new.

    But two groups had changed her mind, one was a roving army of like-minded individuals following a masked leader who promised a true end to their worries with his ideals. The other was a smaller band of supposed "Bandits" as they were called by the Mountain Lords, when all they have done is steal water supplies and fight off the enforcers of the Mountain Lords

    Both of these groups were growing by the day and to the veteran of many campaigns, Argos Vela could tell that soon enough these two would become the focal point of any change to this world.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Finding the two and giving them an offer was a simple matter, both wanted their world to become something more than a wasteland full of infighting. The Astartes would aid them in conquest over the world and in return they would serve the Imperium.

    Both agreed and the Legion went to war, it only took two days to establish control over the planet. Randorus the Wise and Bud'die the Swift were given complete control over the planet and it's many peoples with only a few having to really be wiped out. The sight of Giants with better weapons was enough for some to serve with loyalty rather then perish.

    After the Compliance was done, the new planetary capital was erected, the first true city in thousands of years, the two leaders of Dithcor pledged themselves to the Imperium and promised their world would never forget the gift that was given to them.
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    Unlike the compliance of Dithcor, the world of Zalura's Fall instantly became an issue as it seems the world was part of a far larger polity known later as the Artesian Free Hold. A coalition of three Xeno species, all of which presented a threat even to Astartes in different ways.

    When the Legion Fleet had made its way into the system, they faced three different ship types, one Small and sleek, black like the harsh void of space, their speed making targeting the vessels impossible.

    Another was large and imposing, at first they appeared like a moving asteroid belt, but in reality they were stone like ships that were unflinching in their approach, acting as a moving wall. The third and final ship type was at first unassuming compared to the more deadly looking ships, but this was only a deception, for the ships were the most potent attackers of the fleet. Their front's opening up to a massive burst of plasma fire that tore through the shield and armor of the Imperial fleet.

    It was only by the quick decision making of the Fleet commanders that the Legion and their forces were able to escape the system, but not without causality.

    For now, the fleet waits at Dithcor for their Primarch and the rest of the Legion, preparing it for a possible attack by these new Xenos and whatever else they may bring as weapons.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • The War of Cells and Fungus
  • Threadmarks
    • The War of Cells and Fungus
    Written with assistance from @triumph8w ​


    War has consumed the Imperium.

    On all fronts, the Emperor of Man has given the order to advance. And on all fronts, the Master of Mankind is obeyed. Countless millions of regular men and women go forward into unknown stars, to conquer in the name of humanity and the peace that may reign. Leading the vanguard in nearly every case is the Legio Astartes. Each a unique collection of military power and depth of culture. In most cases, they herald an unstoppable advance. The peak of human potential, armed and armored in some of the best the nascent Imperium has to offer its genetic super soldiers. Whole civilizations are sundered in their wake, broken over a ceramite knee and subsumed into the Imperium.

    In Segmentum Pacificus, one of these legions advances. It is not like the others. Strike cruisers and Battle barges do not sail into the unknown, all guns blazing. In their place are scout ships and probes, carefully recording the stars ahead of the legions advance. The Astartes within the vessels trained and readied themselves for war, but not in the way of the other legions. Data feeds streamed back to the legion flagship, bunched together in astropahtic bursts. To be poured over and picked apart. The rapid pace of most of their fellows was not echoed here.

    These, then, were the Doves of War.

    When they do advance, it is towards a collection of worlds that have already been scouted. Data packages, detailed as they can be without proper first contact, find their way into the hands of legion commanders. Targets are picked, preparations made, and legion ships sent forth. These are not the massed forces of massive ships, blunt instruments meant to pummel the opposition into submission. Sleek, small vessels go forth. Carrying teams of agents who go forth with only the thought of infiltration in mind.

    On a variety of human and xenos worlds, life continues as normal. They do not notice the ship slink in through the sky. They do not notice the people who vanish, for they're never gone for long. The rich, the powerful. People of note within the systems that keep these worlds running, and who seem to come back to their jobs with a renewed interest. In the months after the unknown arrival, the legion arrives in proper force. Everything they could possibly need to know having already been fed back to the fleet, and their operatives in position to handle any truly poor decisions on the part of lost kin.

    Human worlds find themselves reunited with an Imperium of Man. Reactions tend to be mixed among many of the populaces. But almost always do the leaders seem to embrace these armored strangers, and the people inevitably follow. First contact packages are exchanged, the Imperiums guiding mission is explained, and the people welcomed. And if some of them may not exactly slot in with the vision of the Imperium, then the Doves are too busy studying them to particularly care.

    Only two worlds stand against the generous offers of rejoining the galactic community, and the wealth that would surely follow. The Doves, of course, gracefully acquiesce, promising to give the world's more time to ponder the benefits. While the legion fleets peel away from worlds not yet in compliance, seeds are planted. In the weeks following, a steady stream of reports flow into the governments of the two worlds. Sickness seems to have sprouted up, slamming into the heavily populated centers particularly hard. The medical system tries it's hardest to stem the tide, but the disease is of a vicious, resilient breed that hasn't even been seen before. As the death toll rises, and the worlds seem on the verge of collapse, the Doves return.

    They apologize, of course, for returning before the agreed date. But they couldn't help but pick up on the increasingly frantic vox chatter and hear of the terrible events that have come to pass. With grace, they offer to help the world's cure themselves of the disease. The Imperium is, after all, an advanced nation. While much of humanity's old technological base has been shattered by the Age of Strife, enough remains to make trivial work of this disease. With a frantic relief, the world governments accept.

    Within a week, the disease is eradicated. Astartes teams doll out vaccines, whipped up by their superhuman minds and the databases of the Imperium. They are hailed as heroes by most. The mercy of the Imperium is clear, and if their superhuman warriors are so caring about the common man, then surely the cause of the Imperium must be a righteous one. The human world goes onto join the Imperium, finding administratum teams already enroute as an Army garrison is left behind to keep a careful watch over their new wards. There are some conspiracy theories that the Doves had something to do with the plague to begin with, but these are widely dismissed.

    The other world is a more curious one. The race that inhabits it is not human in the least. Xenos, of thin figures and scaly complexion. The Tygors are a race that had just recently managed to expand beyond the limits of their home system. Aided by recently created crude--by the standards of the Imperium--warp engines. They welcome the aid of the Doves with an almost pathetic gratefulness, their society having approached the brink by the plague that ravaged them. Slowly become aware of the nature of the galaxy, the Tygor's submit to the Doves of War as a protectorate. Giving database access to the legion, alongside a choice few specimens picked out by the Astartes. Objections ring out from the mortal contingent of the legion, mainly focusing on those who are newly arrived. Alongside local Imperial commanders not affiliated with the Doves. But they are quieted, or ignored.

    As the legion moves on from these peacefully compliant worlds, they come across something of interest on Kheddri IV and a smattering of surrounding systems. Legion ships have found Orkoids within them. But not the regular kind. According to reports, these belonged to a somewhat rare subsection of them. Being deemed 'feral orks' in Imperial databases. They lacked the same...ability, as most Orks did to construct their ramshackle technology. Instead, the best these feral orks can manage is a sort of deranged cannon and breech loading rifle. Most of them don't even have that, clutching in their hands stone axes and spears.

    This, of course, is seen as an opportunity. Legion ships move in not to exterminate, but cordon off the region. Any non-legion ships are sent away, though barely any pass by to begin with. And it is made sure that the Orks have no vessels in the system. That confirmed, the legion begins to study and observe the creatures. Astartes teams are sent to round up the feral orks. Bait placed in specific zones to force rival tribes to meet, and fight, one another. All in preset fighting rings constructed quietly by the Doves. With other Astarte teams waiting to slaughter those who fail to take the bait after a set amount of time.

    The results are...mixed.

    Several feral tribes do end up in the rings, and immediately begin to set into one another without any hesitation. These instances are recorded most studiously. Any scrap of knowledge that could be picked up on is dutifully put into legion archives. For the most part, the Astatre kill teams do suceed in killing those Orks who were too slow, stupid, or cunning to take the bait. After all, while Orks are possessing of a brute strength these feral creatures would need more than they were able to wield to actually pose a serious threat to the Astartes.

    Such is how it goes for most of the teams, barring one. In the northern hemisphere, the Orks have somehow caught on to what the legion is doing. While the team is busy putting on the finishing touches towards one Ork tribe, they're ambushed by a whole host. Hundreds of Orks die to bolter fire, most who get close only manage to break stone spears and axes on ceramite armor, only to be killed by chainswords. Only two Astartes die. One, when a nob hit them with a tree trunk and set them flying into the middle of the Ork formation--and was in term reduced to chunks of meat by the rest of the team. While the other was dragged off by a weird boy and its psychic powers.

    Eventually more kill teams arrived to put an end to this pitiful little ambush. But by the time the dust cleared, they could not find the corpses of the two fallen Astartes. Apparently having been dragged off to the northern wastes by the retreating Orks, evidenced by the trails. The incident is recorded as a response is organized. The Doves descend on the north with all the subtlety of a hammer, and annihilate a nascent WAAAGH in its tracks. The two bodies are discovered, armor having been crudely stripped and weapons picked apart. Apparently the Orks had been undergoing an industrial revolution of sorts in response to the Astartes presence.

    Other such incidents are reported throughout Keddru IV and its surrounding systems as the Doves of War set into studying them with increasing intensity. The desire to find a way to properly exterminate the Orks, like one would a weed, is felt quite keenly. The research into plagues to do in the greenksins, an old reliable method of the Doves, proves surprisingly limited. Initially Orks begin to drop to the plague, but after a week or so they seem to adapt to it. Breathing in noxious fumes with little care. Multiple plagues are cycled through, to little avail. And all the while reports grow of more and more Ork tribes becoming more 'technologically able.'

    The situation is well in hand, of course. The presence of Astartes renders the attempts to lash out by the Orks as something readily contained. But none can deny that it grows more difficult by the month to keep the rowdy creatures in order, and thus more easily researched.

    And down south, on ancient Terra rumours come from the north. Rumours of alien protectorates, endorsed by Astartes legions. Coming all the way to the desk of the Sigillite himself....
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Searching Among Stars​

    Khaldeon, the Lord-Primarch of the 9th Legion, sat in his quarters aboard the Glorious Gryphon, upon a towering lounge-throne covered and draped in tapestry like sheets and pillows of native design that he could sink into. War trophies and battle honors were meticulously organized and decorated throughout the room, with the skulls of the greatest Azulian soldiers that served under him forming a wall of death by themselves.

    The Gryphon King leaned back and watched on his data slate of the footage sent by Crimson Gryphons in Ichars. He received reports of the Aeldari forces overwhelming them with stealth and speed, teleporting aboard the Gryphons' ships with rushing droves to kill them, and that a great war had been called. The retreat had shamed them but dying without being able to fight them would be a greater dishonor.

    He just needed time. Time to see, time to kill, time to conquer, and then he would reunite with his sons. Alhirad would have to do his best, and is doing, but Khaldeon is not done yet here.

    Khaldeon would come back quickly in the year that much he knew, and this Cadia showed promise to be protected. To be a bulwark and base of operations for this front against the elves.

    Yet he could not go immediately, reports had swarmed his mortal officers containing information of only chances, but chances he would take the same. To bring back those of Azul on a new planet and continue their ways, it was a prerogative to him. His Wing soared, to look further into these sightings of what could be returned to him. Novus Azul, he would see it through. Stuck until further notice, between the search of a new homeworld and a great enemy, his sons would have to continue on against the Aeldari.

    He would continue on this chase until something gave in to him, the planet would be his or it would not be. The fleet would scour the sector for what the preliminary reports had told them and they were all excited in helping out to find the legion's new home. Khaldeon would pursue either way, it would not escape him.
     
    Forge of Fallen Empires
  • Threadmarks

    • "Do not worry my allies, the Mon-Kaigh will attack and take this world, but our Lord will remain safe. However we must keep moving, for the South winds of fate are ever shifting." ​

    It was a monumental gathering, smaller than another great movement of imperial forces, but one worthy of the history books all the same. Individuals of note from all across this new Sector of Imperial Space had gathered

    Lords Savnok and Alaric, great and mighty Primarchs who led two mighty Legions. The Stalwart Eternity Guard and the Illusive Umbral Watch.

    General Gri-Vi.o.s of Forgeworld Ardus IX, a recent arrival and given command of all the Mechanicus forces coming to this battle, a multi armed version of a Skittari, who in the short time spent with the Primachs has shown a odd fondness for swords and other bladed weapons.

    Generals of the Legion Auxiliary forces and admirals of the Fleets gathered here as well, all listening to the Primarchs plan of attack.

    And word was abound of other forces on the way to aid if the need be, one would be forgiven for thinking that this battle would be simple. But the Galaxy is never quite so simple
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The entry into the System was smooth and the object of this campaign was in sight, the world of Yeredet's Forge, a mining world taken by Eldar forces for some strange and unknown reason.

    It did not take long before the Eldar ships appeared to do battle with the combined fleets. The space battle was a simple affair, these Eldar ships were of no match to such an overpowering force and soon landfall was imminent for the Imperial forces.
    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Landing on the world and establishing a site to hold and continue the attack was a difficult task, the Eldar making various hit and run attacks on the site and keeping any major ground from being taken.

    This only stalled the advance as the Mechanicus forces entered the battleground, with precise movements only a machine could perform, they moved as one and struck with a cold fury that even the Umbral Watchers and their strained relationship with the Machine cult had to be impressed by the battle prowess and drive of the Skitarii.

    With the main attackers kept busy by the Mechanicus, the Legions could fortify the landing site and prepare for the push to what the Primarchs had discovered to be the main site of these Eldar.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Fighting through to the strange structure was an arduous task, but with two Primarchs leading the charge, no task was too great for the Imperial charge. Umbral Watcher and Eternity Guard fought side by side as they tore through the Eldar lines and made their way to what was believed to be the center of the Eldar's hold on the planet.


    Finding themselves at the gate of the structure, the Primarchs decided to split up, Savnok taking forces into the structure and facing whatever was inside. While Alaric kept the Eldar from interfering.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Alaric was not like some of his siblings, he did not fight often on the front lines. But he was still a Primarch and these Eldar learned first hand what kind of warrior he was. Drawing his Blade he stabbed a Eldar and sliced through another in a fraction of a second, his eyes already seeing an Eldar taking aim at one of his sons.

    Before he could act, the Eldar had a blade sticking out of it's back, and General Gri-Vi.o.s standing behind the now still body.

    While he had issues with their organization, Alaric could respect skill when it was apparent. Lifting his blade, he again readied for the Eldar to attack.
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    The Inner sanctums of the structure was coated in the Eldars strange runes and materials, Savnok and his group rushed through the strangely silent building wondering why it was so heavily guarded.

    They found their answer in a vast open room filled with strange designs and tools at various points, in the middle of the room were robbed Eldar attending to what at first seemed to be a statue of some kind.

    It was not until it moved that Savnok realized he was seeing a substantially larger Eldar, one that grabbed an unknown tool and with a strange yellow energy formed it into a massive Hammer.

    And with an unnatural quickness threw it at the side of the group, hitting dead center on one of the Umbral Watchers and quickly morphing into a mass of spikes made of the same material as the rest of these Eldar contraptions and pierced many Astartes.

    Savnok barley had the time to order his forces to move apart before the Eldar creature had formed another hammer, this one more akin to a smiting hammer and rushed forward with the other Eldar not far behind it.

    The fight between the two forces had been long and hard, Savnok and the creature exchanging blows. Ending with both of them striking their hammers and trying to force the other back.

    As the Eldar's Hammer was holding back Savnok's own hammer he could see the Yellow hued face of this creature lean in and speak in a voice like a Hammer striking metal "You do not see Child of War, you do not know the Death that comes. Our People did not see it until it was too late, there is time for your people to see."

    With a sharp grimace Savnok replied back to the Eldar with this "There is time, our time. This is Mankind's Hour and we shall not be denied it by ghosts and shadows." At that, the two forced each other back, both ready for another series of blows.

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Alaric and his group kept defending the entryway into the sanctum as Eldar after Eldar rushed towards them. Cybermancers hurling electric arcs at the Eldar, while their brothers rushed forward to slice and break their foes apart with great strength augmented by holy machine.

    Suddenly it seemed that the air was solid as what could only be described as gates opened up across the battlefield, Eldar in Red Armor poured out of them and fought the Imperial and Mechnicus forces.

    The fighting became ever more hectic as one by one the allies around Alaric fell, he could see one of his sons fighting alone as his squad died around him, a lone Skitarii of Ardus IX jumping into the fray to save him.

    Alaric Knew that his Brother's plan would work; they only had to wait until...She arrived.

    And like the old stories of Demons and their summoning by name, Vox calls signed the arrival of the lady Primarch Aurelia Verona and her Legion had come to aid the attack

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Moments before, Savnok was gaining the upper hand and managed to knock the massive Eldar upon the ground, he was just about to land a crippling blow...

    It all happened within a moment, as Savnok's hammer came down. In a moment the Eldar Warrior crushed something in his hands and the air shifted.

    A Blade caught the Hammer as another Warrior, one dressed in red amour parried Savnok's hammer and dragged the wounded Eldar away from the Primarch. an impressive feat considering the sheer size of the strange Eldar.

    This new Eldar did not speak and simply brandished it's blade to rush the Primarch, while the larger one had equal strength, this one was more akin to Eldar Savnok has fought before, albeit far more skilled in combat. He fought this Eldar warrior and tried to not lose focus on the larger one, but he lost focus for a moment, that was when the rumbling started.

    The rumbling continued as it became clear that the building was not long, Savnok turned to see the larger Eldar merely placing a hand on the structure...made of the material it seemed to have great control over. The other Eldar rushed in between Savnok and the giant Eldar, as it became clear that a stalment had more or less occurred.

    A Open Vox channel informed Savnok that the Knights Romantic had entered the system and were landing their forces, the Eldar were in full retreat through strange portals. Savnok had to consider if it was worth it to chase the two Eldar, was he capable of fighting both at once. In the end the decision was made for him as one of his sons who had come with him was telling his father that they had to leave. It was Jean Geant, armor clearly damaged and himself wounded.

    The last thing Savnok sees before he has to leave the collapsing building is the two Eldar stepping into the portal, the Strange one glaring at him with it's empty yellow eyes.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The battle was over, the combined Imperial force had won yes, but many questions still lingered, what was that warrior, why were the Eldar here in the first place and why. But for now he and the rest of the Imperial forces have to take stock of their losses.

    He sees General Gri-Vi.o.s looking over a Eldar Blade of some kind, muttering about a collection, his brother Alaric and his Sons looking annoyed at nearby Knights Romantic as they stand watching the imperial forces regroup.

    He watches as his own sons gather together and he thinks back to that strange Eldar's Words and what could they mean.

    "You do not see Child of War, you do not know the Death that comes. Our People did not see it until it was too late, there is time for your people to see."
     
  • Threadmarks
    • THE TYRANT AND THE PRIEST
    A joint IC with @Bandeirante ​
    The warm breeze was soft and gentle.

    The grass that coated the gently rising hill was a bright green, swaying in the breeze as the sun shone down on it. For the most part, it stood unbent. Not a grand monument nor implacable bastion, but tiny, unbothered blades of grass. They were only disturbed by the tread of feet far too large and far too heavy to be anything truly human. The grass was, in some respects, the hill itself. And it showed as such with only one exception.

    A white, small building stood there. Propped up by marble columns of a quality of craftsmanship and depth of care that could only belong to something made by hand, and not the ceaseless clamor of a factory. It was left open to the elements, barring thin silk curtains. Tended to by dozens of servants, like the rest of the villa was. A long table of black marble and solid oak that was as much performative as it was functional dominated its center. Stone chairs, made to hold the weight of something truly large, lined it. Through the silk curtains, one was offered a view of Adrophiagia's oceans that was said to be unrivaled. One could see a city in the distance, past the gleaming water, surrounded by its own gently sloping hills.

    The brothers met here.

    The Word Bearer honor guard, from its first company, kept their distance from their Primarch. Armored forms watching out from the villa itself, with only two standing guard on the sloping hill. Giving a measure of privacy to the one who their ceaseless vigil was in service to. Lorgar Aurellian stood at the edge of the small marvel of marble craftsmanship, observing the lapping waters of the ocean with a gentle smile.

    Memnon emerged then. Striding from the building, sandaled feet noisily smacking on the marble floor. Wearing a simple red, short sleeved Chiton and a crown of flowers in his hair. Golden snakes coiled around his arms and neck.

    "Lorgar!" He called out warmly. Arms opening wide as he approached. "Brother you have come at last!"

    Lorgar turned his gaze from the ocean view, simple grey robes swaying in the breeze as he turned to face his brother. His gentle smile became alive with a warmth that went beyond mere contentment inspired by a beautiful view. He stretched out his own arms, welcoming his brothers warm embrace eagerly. "And I quite regret the impossible hours of delay. Even the simple view here is a breathtaking experience in artistry. Truly, my brother, you have outdone yourself with Adrophiagia."

    "How could I not?" Memnon smiled gesturing widely to the sea and everything around them. "Androphagia is a beautiful land. A treat to every artist's muse." He fell silent for a bit, still basking in the joy of his brother's presence and words. "And we, in spite of everything are a people prone to following our muses. But I have made you stand around long enough." He stepped away a few paces from Lorgar, gesturing to the inside of the building. "Please, Lorgar, be my guest and take a seat. I also prepared us a meal, if you are feeling the need for a light snack before the formal dinner at the Villa."

    With an easy grace inherent to even the most brutish and bloodthirsty of the Primarchs, Lorgar took a seat at the marble table. There was not even a hint to tenseness in his entire frame, the peace exuded by the surroundings and the simple pleasure of being at a brothers side simply did not allow for anything beyond relaxing.

    "By all means, Memmon." He said, a playful tint coming to his smile. "I am rather sure I can eat anything put in front of me. I have been longing to taste the food borne by your home, I must admit."

    Memnon snorted at that. "Flattery like that will get you far here, I admit." The Primarch jumped from his seat, disappearing in an antechamber for a few moments before returning with a silver tray holding a couple of plates and several steaming bowls, along with a pitcher and cups. "That said. Maybe I should have brought out the food before letting you in." He chuckled at himself, placing the food in front of Lorgar. "Shellfish soup, spicy bread and fruit biscuits. Along with Arkagan wine. Im told its the best we have but Father forgive me, it tastes all the same to me." And with that he sat back down. Looking at Lorgar expectantly.

    Lorgar set into it with curiosity and a restrained eagerness. Massive, bronze hands tinged with golden tattoos picked up utensils and dug into the food that was graceful, but without much thought or care put towards the strained, layered etiquette often found in the Imperium's mortal upper crust. "My brother, the view was food enough." He said in between bites. "A feast for the eyes. The land and the sea are one, in a way. Gently rolling, in motion and stillness. The architecture is fine indeed, a melding of function and beauty."

    His tone showed nothing but sincerity, even as his smile turned more amused. "Ah, but I may have waxed lyrical enough on the view. Tell me, brother, how fares things?"

    Memnon leaned back in his seat with a small sigh. "As well as they can be, Lorgar. Considering the circumstances. The preparations for the Great Crusade are endless and ever taxing. No matter how necessary they are for Father's great plan and Humanity's survival. Warring has never been easy for me, brother. Regardless of the righteousness of the cause. And the burden it places upon my people does little to help." Memnon sighs again at that. Filling a cup for himself. "My Helladics will follow me to the depths of Tartaros, Lorgar. But that doesnt means I want to lead them there."

    Lorgar swirled his own cup, watching the wine gently twist and turn, like the waves themselves. But rendered smaller, more minute, existing more because of simple force than something like gravitational pull. "I understand, brother." He said softly, his eyes distant. Looking past his drink and at something more. "The needs of the Great
    Crusade are staggering. I swear, had I not some of the finest warriors in the galaxy by my side I may have gone mad years ago simply trying to wrap my head around something as vital, bland, gargantuan and minuscule as logistics." That carried with it a laugh. Genuine, if rueful. "Neither of us are soldiers. I am not Ferrus Manus, to break a world with hands of iron. And you are not Zayana, to pick at a world, to toy with its people, until one grows tired of its peoples struggles and plunges in the knife."

    He took a drink of the wine, enjoying its taste for a moment. "And I would say we are better for it. We have plenty of warriors in this Crusade of ours. But philosophers? Seekers of the future? Why, there seems to be few of those. But I know the League stands among them. I can feel it, breathe it in as soon as I step foot on one of your worlds, brother. This peace is what we fight for. The future it may bring."

    Memnon took a deep swig from his cup, swallowing fast before replying. "That's my hope, brother." He smiled softly, turning his eyes to the sea. "That all the bloodshed and suffering of the coming times will be worth. That we will be able to turn a new page in Mankind's history and banish the Old Night for good. As Father envisioned." He turned his attention back to Lorgar. "But until then, we will have to bear the weight of the armor on our shoulders and the spear in our hands. And once it's over. Perhaps, if we survive it all, we will finally fit better in the new Galaxy we will have built. A Galaxy where moments like these are the norm rather than rare indulgences."

    "I look forward to it." Lorgar said with a smile. "Such a moment will come to pass, brother. Of that I am sure. The last of us will be found soon enough. And with the Emperor leading us, I am sure the galaxy will be given peace at last. After all, a God wills it so. And I will finally be able to return to Colchis for good."

    "And I hope I am not overstepping by wishing to experiment your hospitality, brother. I've heard much about Colchis." Memnon smiled slightly, expression growing distant. "A planet of holy men dedicated to the worship of the Emperor and the uncovering of truth. When this is over, I hope to bring my own philosophers and priests to you and yours. So that we may share ideas and have a proper Symposium. I know for a fact my stepfather would love the chance to learn more about how other distant peoples see the Galaxy and the Divine. Our return to the Imperium has given him more study material than ever before. Him and many others." At that his expression soured. "Even if the Imperial Truth is proving to be less than welcoming to men of his disposition."

    "I am sure Colchis would welcome your father with open arms. The City of Grey Flowers is a wonder unto itself, and I've no doubt he could find good lodging." Lorgar's smile remained warm for a few more moments, before it lessened a bit. A small shift in his own aura, a tiny souring of his own. "Ah, the Imperial Truth. I must confess, it is a thing I do not entirely understand. He is a God. It is by His will that ships may flow through the Warp, guided by His light. It is through His commands that the fate of world after world, system after system, is decided. He has decided to conquer the galaxy, and that is being made into a reality. What would you call a man who can do all these things, a man who can shape the flesh and soul, a man whose very presence is that of illuminating joy?"

    "He is a God. Whatever else you may call it, the bare truth is that he is Divine." Memnon agreed. "But Gods, well at least as know them here, can be a capricious and mercurial lot. And more often than not mortals are caught in their games and ambition. For better or for worse." He took another swig of wine. "We should be glad that our God has decided to dedicate his Power and ambition to a worthy cause. Even if some of the steps he has taken are disagreeable. He spoke to me often about the evils and ills of faith. Of the grievous harm religion has brought to Mankind. And yet, I look at what He is building, at what we are helping him raise up and think to myself that he is just enforcing a new faith upon the Galaxy without really acknowledging it." Memnon stops for a moment, pensive. "He already let's the Martians worship him like a God. Perhaps in time, when all other faiths are crushed and the memory of every other deity is ashes, he will take the mantle of godhood unchallenged. Or perhaps he will grow tired of our preaching." The Primarch shivered a bit. "This is a part of the future I would rather not contemplate."

    "I would not worry, my brother." Lorgar said soothingly. "We are His loyal sons, and He our father. We have fought for his dream, worked to bring it to fruition through all the long years. I doubt our loyalty would be so cast aside in any cruel method your imagination can conjur." He leaned back in his seat, the especially crafted stone holding his weight with ease, a thoughtful look on his face. "I do not know His reasons. For He has ever been one to keep His thoughts close to his chest. But you've a point, dear brother. The Mechanicum already worships him. Indeed such a fact has already been accepted by the Imperium, or otherwise carefully not thought of. And this 'Imperial Truth' inspires such a dogmatic, fervent feeling in some that I must agree with you. The Emperor surely must be waiting for something. Something, some sign to finally admit what he is."

    He stared off for a few moments, before he turned his gaze back to Memmon and gave a light shrug. "Though I cannot profess to know when such a time will be. But I will wait, as I always have."

    "I suppose there's nothing else for me to do either." Memnon shrugged lightly. "At least, if nothing else, the struggle of Galactic conquest ought to keep us from dying of boredom while we wait for the inevitable." With that he finished his cup.

    Lorgar chuckled, his smile returning to his own face. "I suppose it will. The shear wonders one can say out there, in the stars, is staggering. Though it does often go hand in hand with the horrors…" He trailed off, sipping his drink as he listened to the sounds of waves lapping against the shoreline. "Perhaps, before this is all over, I may be able to show you and your family my greatest achievement."

    Memnon leaned closer to his brother, face brightening. "You can't just say something like this and leave it at that, Lorgar." He chuckled. "At least have some mercy and give me a hint if you must keep this great work a surprise."

    Lorgars smile shifted in a way Memmon no doubt knew well. It was a look he often used, perhaps even without knowing it, when he was nearing the end of some great speech. One usually performed in front of countless thousand, listened to and watched by millions. But now there was none of that. Only two brothers.

    "It is a city, brother. One I have found amongst the stars. One I and my sons have shaped into a peaceful place of serenity that will last the ages. Years we have devoted to it, to a place where the faithful may live their lives in peace and prosperity: Monarchia, the Perfect City."

    Memnon's smile spoke of equal parts wonder and pride. "Somehow you keep surprising me, brother. I confess I never took you for one to engage in city building. But then again, I shouldnt be surprised. Who else among us would dedicate time and effort to creating an abode for the faithful?" He continued as he refilled his cup. "I will make sure to visit as soon as opportunity allows, brother. I'm sure that your Monarchia will surpass all my expectations."
     
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    Corporal Ashor Noor prayed to the twin Gods. Their existence was strictly forbidden of course but the discipline master was several miles to the rear and the threat of death or worse was much closer, lurking behind each of the great spoil stacks or underneath the scarred earth in the countless tunnels, groves and mountain cuts of the mining world's surface. And somehow he had landed the job of going looking for it.

    The spoilpile was filthy and every breath made him want to cough his lungs out but still he practically burrowed into it as he dragged himself up the last meter, he carefully unclasped his flak helmet and set it to the side. Doing so exposed his flash hood, black thanks be to the twins, which would not stop any of the various weaponry the Xenos had been using against him for the past few days but it would silhouette just that bit less. Cautiously he clawed away a finger width of spoil and raised his head as little as he possibly could without being seen, observing what lay on the other side of the pile.

    "Dargath." He cursed.

    Another pile. Of course. That had been the way of it since planetfall. The 2199th Regiment had deployed as part of the third wave after the Space Marines and cogheads had managed to carve out a bridgehead. They'd pushed outwards from the perimeter in the wake of the Eternity Guard with other regiments on either flank and found themselves in Kraang's own country, centuries of despoilment by the miners had left a filthy and broken landscape and the enemy delighted into turning every inch of it into a death trap.

    Strongpoints, deadly ambushes, surprise raids from behind, it had been hell. Their armour had stalled miles behind, slowly grinding through twisting paths that as often as not led nowhere, there was too much cover and not enough by way of line of sight for artillery to do any good. As usual the glory of fulfilling the Emperor's grand design in the dirtiest and most dangerous way fell to his own beloved treadcloggers, the infanteers. Ashar was not bitter of course that the tankies and gunners got to sit back and enjoy a well deserved rest whilst he was dragging his weary arse up and down giant mounts of mine excrement playing hide and seek with murderous xenos. He just was incredibly angry, envious, afraid and perhaps a bit bitter at this state of affairs.

    He was half tempted to wait up here for a while, say he was being extra thorough but he did not like the look of the dark clouds overhead, occasionally pierced by a Stormbird or Marauder, a little rain would melt the pile and drown him in black filth. It wasn't the worst way for a treadclogger to die, that was a stiff competition if ever there was one, but it was still a bad one. Ashor redonned his flak helmet and carefully descended, it was even more fun than the climb up, now he could not see where his feet were and was helping gravity try and roll him down each false ledge. He was already filthy and exhausted, by the time he stumbled the last few meters down he was more so on both counts.

    "About time, you take a nap up there in your spiretop 'partment?" Sergeant "seven generations of mother loving is the only explanation for my ugliness" Vork Sadan complained. Vork was always good for making every bad day just a bit worse.

    'Yes Sarge, I thought about inviting you up for chow but was not feeling up to guests today.' is what Ashor said, in the safety of his own mind.

    The intensification of the glare from those beady red rad weasel eyes made him wonder if maybe the Seargeant was so stupid that his brain picked up other people's thoughts instead of his own.

    "I came back as soon as I could, Sarge, there wasn't much to see up there being honest. Just another spoil pile." He answered whilst thinking as hard as he could that the recon was a bust and they should return to the platoon now instead of wasting more time.

    "Well guess you'd better get going and climb that one too. We'll give you ten and then start climbing this one, set up overwatch." Vork decided, proving either that he was not telepathic or that he was and was just a bastard…

    "Thanks Sarge, I feel safer already." Ashor managed resignedly.

    "So I can set your ass on fire if you take your time again." The Sergeant finished, smiling devilishly.

    "A bastard either way then." Ashar muttered under his breath.

    "What was that?"

    "I said very funny Sarge but don't worry, I won't let you down." He lied with conviction before turning and moving away, the faster he got out of sight the sooner he could turn around and offer up some very carefully chosen gestures. But until then he tried not to think about them too loudly, just in case.

    He had made it maybe five steps before he heard the distinctive sound of the Xenos blasted disk shooters and the even more familiar sound of human screaming. Instinct had him on his belly in seconds, it led him astray this time, the enemy were above, all he'd done was offer them a bigger target and put them out of his line of fire. Well shooting back could wait, instead he scrambled over twisted metal and discarded tools and scrabble, cowering behind an old ore cart. With his back against it he could see what was left of his squad. Vork and four others were crouched down pouring lasfire upwards at their attackers, the rest were-

    "Noor start shooting you yellow drotekissing coward!" The Sergeant admirably multitasked.

    The second last thing Ashar wanted to do was remind the Xenos he existed, the actual last thing however was getting torn to pieces by grenades when they finished off the others, so with his heart (and other organs) firmly in his mouth he stood up and fired off a blind burst of lasfire. A moment later there was a loud crash as something heavy hit the ground, hard. The Corporal had no idea if it was his shooting or not but was encouraged to try it again.

    "How do you like Drotemate?!" He screamed firing again, this time the result was more definite, an unholy fullisade of return fire rattling the orecart louder than the lasgun fire itself.

    Looking back over the squad there was now only Vork and two others left standing and judging by the lack of twitching spasms there were less wounded as well. This was not looking good, Ashar wanted to pray again but given the results so far he was worried all he'd do was bring down flaming urine on his head. On cue, the heavens opened and the toxic rain of this world drowned the skirmish in choking black acid.

    "I was joking!" He screamed, wanting to curl up in a ball and laugh and cry. Instead he found himself being dragged bodily upwards. Was he ascending? No, that was definitely Dargath above him.

    "Stop fracking around Noor, we are leaving!" Sergeant Sadan roared at him, hurling him forwards. They stumbled blindly down the trail they had patrolled down a lifetime ago, using the rain and melting spoil for cover. One of his squadmates was beside him.

    "Keep going, we need to- frak!" Ashor began before a flash of light revealed the Crimson blood armour of one of the Xenos rather than anything human. The Xenos was faster, Ashor was luckier and tripped over his own feet, squeezing the trigger of his lasgun as he did so, the Xenos' sword cut empty air where Ashor's head had been, the creature's head was still in the same spot…minus the half that was burned off by Ashor's fluke lasbeam.

    Ashor dragged himself off the floor unaided this time, fortunately, there was no aid to be had. The Sergeant was gone, everyone was gone, it was just him stumbling blindly through poison hunted by monsters. His lungs were on fire, his eyes blinded by burning tears and his heart wanted to burst out of his chest but he kept going. Every time he tripped over he got back up, one step after another, he didn't dare turn around, he knew he'd not see anything anyway and anything that slowed him down might be the death of him. His only chance was to keep going forwards, keep running, run all the way back across the void of space to Argion if he had to. Fortunately (????????) he ran into his platoon first.

    "Oh thank the merciful and loving…" He began to utter.

    "Finish that sentence and you are on a charge, Corporal!" The Discipline Master screamed in his face.

    "A bit louder, Negyn, just in case any of the Xenos in pursuit didn't hear you." The Lieutenant drawled.

    "Apologies Sir but regulations clearly-"

    "Matter to someone who is not me, now everyone shut up and assume firing positions." He was bluntly cut off. "Everyone includes you Corporal Noor! Move."
    Listlessly Ashor scurried away, numb and confused, he looked around at the platoon arrayed around the old worker's compound in the guard towers and along its titanium walls, grim faced and determined, plenty seemed scared but everyone seemed to know what was happening and where they needed to be. Ashor stood still for a moment, hopelessly lost.

    "Ashor, get your ass over here now." Somehow Vork's screaming seemed almost a comfort. Ashor happily glided towards him. "Do you know what's happening Sarge?"

    A punch in the face, it turned out. "You have three seconds to get your head right Noor before I rip it off. Xenos are coming to finish what they started, the platoon is setting up to ambush, we're here, your arcs are there, and there. Don't shoot until I do and then don't stop until your lasgun melts. Understand?"

    "Shoot Xenos until gun melts. Got it." Ashor nodded, he could do that, as he aimed down his sight. Part of him was actually looking forwards to it, payback time.

    Maybe the Sarge wasn't one hundred either, because his next blow almost seemed like an encouraging pat on the back. "Good man."

    Maybe one of the Xenos had shot out Ashor's brain back in the firefight? That made the most sense. He'd pay them back, he could see them now. The rain seemed to be slackening, they must have seen him too or one of the other soldiers, the Xenos were fast they managed to get off the first shots and start breaking for cover even as the platoon opened up on them. It was frightening, they'd have made it clear of lasguns, but not multi lasers and rocket launchers. Ashor did his own part, he pulled the trigger and kept pulling it, even after everything in front of him was just smoke and shrapnel he kept firing. He was loading his third energy cell when Vork told him to stop.

    "That's enough Noor, they've had enough. Look, they're dead or scurried back home."

    "We won?" Ashor asked stupidly.

    "Yeah, won a chance to do this all over again tomorrow."

    Ashor took a moment, then chuckled, then laughed. It took him some time to stop, and when they learned the next day before the clearance patrol that the planet had been declared secure overnight he started laughing all over again, this time Vork joined in, followed by half the platoon and even the Discipline Master's worst threats only made them laugh harder.
     
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    Codex Eternia
  • Threadmarks

    • Do you believe he knows what he has given you my friend?

    ...No, Number one has not showcased any particular talent in political leverage, he is a more direct player in the game.

    I see...so what will you do Malcador?

    ..We can not rely on the Legions, not with this many...variables on the table. He has taken too many risks already, we have to take this
    opportunity... i can only hope He understands this move is needed.

    I understand, I shall send them to the right people straight away

    Thank you Elias    ​

    ==========================================================================================================================
    The Primarch of the First Legion is known for many things, his heroism and skills in battle being foremost in the minds of the Imperium, but like the rest of his kin, he is a being forged for waging war on a scale far beyond then even he knows. So when the prospect of putting down the lessons of war and battle he had learned from his own experience and from what he was taught on Eternia, he found the task to be simple.

    But the Primarch did not just want his own thoughts and experiences, he went across his Legion finding veterans of hundreds of battles, trusted military advisors of his auxiliary, and the eldest remaining true Born Eternian Guard who remained, those who had fought by his side since his earliest days. All of these sources of experience, methods of combat, stories of battle. All were compiled into what Adaam would call the Codex Eternia, meant to be means for the rest of the Imperium to learn from his world and Legion.

    So unaware of what he was about to do, Adaam sent a copy to Malcador so that it may be distributed as seen fit by the wise advisor to the Emperor. Not aware of the political movements about to take place.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    It is a well known fact that the tactical prowess of a Primarch is often something every leading force of the Imperial Army envy's having for themselves, if only a small piece of. So when the Codex Eternia was penned and distributed via the request of Adaam, many major players in the Imperial Army requested copies of their own to study and determine how best to use this new information

    It did not take long at all for specific forces among the Imperial guard to be using Eternian methods of training for new regiments, to be studying methods of melee combat that while best used for Astartes, can prove to be a worthy means of improvement for the Army. Soon forces are sending in reports of increased compliance and victory across many different worlds in far greater numbers than before. However this has led to some disagreements between groups of Imperial forces and even reach rivalries akin to that of the great Astartes Legions.

    Soon word of the Codex appeared among the Other Legions, some dismissing it as their own methods were either better suited for them or a dismissal of the Skull Legion's methods entirely, seeing them as a waste of time and the methods of a "Lesser Priamrch". But then there was those who took in the Codex, those with strong ties to the first Legion or small enclaves of Legion members who preferred the First Legion, remembering when they were under the command of Adaam and fought alongside the first Legion, these groups would soon distinguish themselves from the rest of their Legion in either overt or covert means, adopting more Eternian methods and iconography.

    Yes, for either good or ill, this Codex Eternia may prove to be either a foundation of Imperial forces tactics, or the beginning of a far more drastic factionalism in Legions. One would have to wonder, which shall it be and what did Lord Malcador desire with this move. Perhaps events are being set in motion for a far grander movement of the inter Imperium Game of politics.
     
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