Nostramo was a horrid place, even in a galaxy of horrors and grimdark. It wasn't as bad as, say, Commoragh or a Daemon World, but that's more because of the limits of natural human misery than anything good about the place. It was a place of oppression, a world that rewarded the worst of mankind, allowing the populace to sink ever further into their darkest instincts. There were no shadows on Nostramo, because it was a world without light.
Nostramo's was built on pain and despair. Those are the things that have defined the place for so long. In the beginning, perhaps it was a penal world of a kind, where the worst of man was sent to mine the endless bounty of adamantium, the only thing of even potential good to come from the accursed place. Over time, as the centuries and millennia of misery and grinding torment passed, the people continued to entrench their sin steeped lifestyles into the identity of the planet. By the time Curze arrives, the world's oppressive despair has wormed its way into the bedrock of the world.
When Konrad Curze arrived, the only thing to welcome him was the cold, uncaring bedrock. As one of the more psychically able Primarchs, his abilities allowed him to see the layers of misery and disgust on a horrifically intimate level. He saw the pain, the torment, and deep below in the depths of the hive, that was all he had. Yet still, he had a sense that that was not how it should be. So he tried to help. He was betrayed by the merciless opportunism. But he tried again, tried to reach out to others, despite what he saw, despite that he could taste the darkness enveloping the souls around him, despite never having experienced kindness or trust himself.
He failed. Again.
And Again. And Again.
AndAgainAndAgainAndAgainAndAgainAndTheyNeverStopTheyNeverTryThey'reHopelessTheSameChoicesOverandOverTheSameThingstheSameFailuresFailuresFailuresBecauseThereAreNoChoicesForMonstersAllYouCanDoIsKillandHurtAndBreakThemYouSawItYouKnowthatTruththeyareWorthlessandHereYouAreAmongThemInTheDark...
And so on and so forth.
In the end, Konrad Curze would give in to the darkness. He would turn the pain and fear and misery into a weapon of justice. Because it was the only way to stop the gears without burning it all down. Because otherwise the things that called themselves the people of Nostramo would never stop lest they be ground apart by the rest. Perhaps, given time, he could have made something. Perhaps, under his brutal hand, he could have made something better.
But that was not his fate, was it?
Fate came for Konrad Curze in a suit of shining gold and gleaming light. It took him away for a greater purpose, tore him from his hope to be used as a weapon of destruction and torment. He was introduced to a place he had never had a chance to belong to, among those that he knew to be his betters. Other Primarchs, who raised their homes into greater things, who succeeded in their own goals, who shone and gleamed in the open day, when Curze could barely stand beneath the dawn. Perhaps he could have yet grown into more, but that was not his place. It was not his destiny. Instead, he tore and mutilated and hurt those that, deep down, he knew did not deserve what came for them, that were not the man-shaped abominations he had torn apart in the dark. He could not show mercy, because he was to be a monster. He could not regret, because that would mean all he had done meant nothing, or less. And all the while, Nostramo came back to haunt him, seeping into his blood like a mold. He looked upon his sons, and found them to be the very things he had broken so much to burn away. Who cared about what happened to him? What reason was there for him to exist, if all he could create was terror and misery? Thus he turned that power inward. He destroyed his bonds with his brothers, he destroyed the festering hive of misery he crawled out of, he destroyed the people he did not know how to save. He destroyed himself, and in the end, the only justice he was able to hold onto, was vindication.
Or so it was to be.
Honestly, the Primarchs are amazingly well written. Every one of their stories is laden with enough subtext to drown a fable. Kurze, in canon, is a metaphor for self destruction, from within, and from without. On Terra, he found himself surrounded by people who did not care about his struggles, that expected him to be a monster, that expected him to become the best when all he had was the worst. It's the story of the degeneration of the self, of succumbing to inner demons, of being pushed and pressed and finally breaking. Konrad Curze was born on a planet where suicide was one of the most common causes of death. In some ways, he's just another statistic. Nobody cares about the failures. They should have just become better. After all, the others could do it, if he failed, it's because he didn't try. Is that true? Yes and no. Kurze is ultimately a pathetic person. He broke under his circumstances, and he became a monster, because that was what he needed to be, and afterwards, forced to leave for a greater purpose, he continued to be a monster, because he didn't know how to be anything else. He pushed others away, because he didn't feel he deserved anything but contempt. He was never given a chance to be anything but the monster, and so he embraced it, because to do otherwise would shatter him. He knew that, but he never asked for help, because he didn't know how.
I can't wait for the RP to start.
Edit: Also, neglected to ask, but
@Sidheach , will the Primarchs all start with their legions via the power of handwavium, or will they come later on?
