What the heck, how did I miss that there was another entry witha Nemesis-theme? It's not in the post on the first page as far as I can see...
What the heck, how did I miss that there was another entry witha Nemesis-theme? It's not in the post on the first page as far as I can see...
Edited by Carrack, 03 June 2015 - 09:22 AM.
My Chaos WIP Thread (Bigger Pics and Foul Xenos offsite) Hall of Honour, My Storm Reavers (DIY SM Chapter) Story, My Chaos 7.5 Homebrew Codex Thread
In us burns a fire for vengeance that will only be quenched when we stand triumphant over the smoldering ruins of Terra. Our laughter on that day will haunt their survivors till the end of time. We will stride forth victorious through the shattered gates of their fortress, holding high aloft the defiled corpse of their rotting god as our prize.
Wulfkry, on 02 Jul 2013 - 3:38 PM, said: So an inquisitor is receiving SM implants using GK geneseed stolen off the fields of armageddon interesting..
Captain Semper, on 29 May 2015 - 4:10 AM, said: There is crazy and there is Teetengee crazy...
x9
I'm not dead, and I like 8th better than 7th.
The commanders of the 47th Host stood in the Enlightenment’s war room. It had been a very long time since all of them had been gathered in one place, but this was a most uncommon circumstance. The Long War had lasted for over seven-and-a-half millennia and this was only the Warmaster’s ninth Black Crusade.
Coryphaus Xal Guram brought up a schematic of the Black Legion warship Hell’s Graveyard on the pict screen. “What do we know of the Black Brothers?” he asked.
Garan Amalphus stepped forwards. “They’re zealots. They were utterly devoted to Horus until Abaddon stole their loyalty at the point of a sword. Now they’re his self-appointed enforcers.”
“Can we expect them to interfere with our operations?” Kor Mellek asked.
“Without a doubt,” replied Amalphus. “I never had the pleasure of meeting Anaxilas when I fought for the XVI, but I know him by reputation. He is completely inflexible when it comes to obeying orders. The Warmaster only demands that the weapons factories of Tuleien IV be silenced. His directive says nothing of Tuleien VI.”
“The sixth planet must die,” Kanan Raam interjected. “The song is very clear on that. I care nothing for the fourth. The Black Brothers are fully capable of carrying out their orbital bombardment with or without us.”
“By your Word, Dark Apostle,” Amalphus nodded. “But we should be aware that Anaxilas is likely to react angrily to any deviation from Abaddon’s orders.”
“We will keep the Black Brothers’ ships at arm’s length then,” said Xal Guram. “I will relay our formation to the fleet. Dismissed.”
As the astartes left the room Xal Guram turned to Kanan Raam. “My lord, would it not be best to delay the destruction of Tuleien VI until after the campaign on Tuleien IV is complete and the Black Brothers have translated out of system?”
Kanan Raam shook his head. “When I look to the future I hear a confused cacophony. I do not want to leave this action to chance. It is critical that we destroy the sixth planet as soon as we can before we are knocked aside by the tides of war.”
Xal Guram saluted. “By your Word, Dark Apostle.”
Bellum Omnium Contra Omnes
Guilliman Heresy | Corax Coup | Conn's DIY Projects | Liber Surgery
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The enormous slab of muscle that was once Ezrus Khiyron let out a deafening bellow and charged down the length of the corridor, tossing aside Word Bearers, serfs and Black Legionnaires alike. Kanan Raam followed, executing wounded Black Brothers with precision shots from his plasma pistol.
The Dark Apostle cursed himself for his stupidity. Every seer knew the risk that any action taken to avoid a possible future ran the risk of bringing about the very future it was supposed to prevent. His decision to carry out the destruction of the sixth planet had sparked the conflict he had tried to pre-empt.
Kanan Raam turned a corner and his self-flagellation was brought to an abrupt halt by the sight of the giant chaos spawn lying headless on the ground, its acidic black blood steaming off the power sword of Anaxilas, Tyrant of the Black Brothers.
“I will give your head to the gods, Anaxilas!” Kanan Raam roared.
“And I will give your head to the Warmaster,” Anaxilas smiled grimly. “Same difference.”
Kanan Raam swung his crozius and sparks flew as its energy field collided with that of Anaxilas’ power sword.
“You will die for your blasphemy,” the Dark Apostle spat.
The Tyrant deigned to answer, instead lunging with a strike that slid down the haft of the crozius and severed three of Kanan Raam’s fingers. The Dark Apostle stumbled backwards and, without thinking, threw down a rune stone onto the deck. There was a crack of lightning and a strong whiff of ozone, and then the corridor was ripped apart as the warp tore its way into the mortal realm.
The corridor distorted further and further; within moments the two combatants were over ten metres apart. Anaxilas fired his bolt pistol but the rounds were swallowed up by the gaping warp void. The shots served only to attract the attention of the Plague God’s servants clambering out of the schism.
Anaxilas fought the daemons off for a few minutes, sending over two dozen back to the hell they had so recently clawed their way out of. Their numbers were without end, however, and with a bitter Cthonian curse the Tyrant made his retreat.
Kanan Raam drew his athame and sliced twin lines down his cheeks. With a murmured prayer he brought the blade down onto the rune stone and shattered it. The neverborn burst open, spraying diseased fluids in every direction. The warp rift imploded with a deafening thunderclap. Kanan Raam turned, passing by the already regenerating spawn. As he walked up the corridor his ears rang with vox-calls from across the fleet, relaying the bloody consequences of his folly.
Greetings and welcome to Inspirational Friday. First thing first I have to thank the moderator in making Excessus for helping me run the column while I was busy with RL stuff. I really liked the idea of the Chaos Familiar and Nemesis and after reading your contributions I am very tempted to provide a similar cooperative topic in the future. Said so I can say that that this week contributions were epic and every single one sparked my curiosity and I really wanted more. From the superb venom twist to the descent to madness of a Cardinal to the clash between Chaos Lords, everything was very well written and truly inspiring, and for this you have my thanks frater.
So who is the winner this week, well actually there are two winners or better, we have a winning team. TDF and Conn Eremon surprised us all with the good narrative and a nice confrontation between two very different Chaos Warbands and two very different Chaos Lords. Both have their motives, both answer to a higher authority and both and inflexible when comes to obeying the said orders be them spoken by the Warmaster or sung by the Dark Gods. I really liked this exchange between TDF and Conn Eremon and I think that their work is both inspiring and the reason why I plan to present some more cooperative topics in the future.
I must say that a honorable mention goes to all the writers this week for your contributions kept me behind the PC and now behind the keyboard for a good two hours of real fanfiction. As I have said above, I thank you for this.
Come forth TDF and Conn Eremon and recieve your prize!
As promised this Inspirational Friday will be something special and I kept my promise. Two weeks ago I challenged the frater to a picture competition in the Aedes area and of them all airinhere's contribution was the best. The prize was not only to chose a topic for Inspirational Friday but also to be the judge of the contributions. I want you to welcome airinhere among us and offer him your best.
Inspirational Friday - 05/06/2015 - Ruination
This week I would like to turn our thoughts to what transpires in the mind of the heretic when he first realizes the finality of his deeds. What surge of endorphin or pangs of regret might he experience as he slowly begins to realize that he is the monster.
The Knights of Blood are a chapter of space marine that walks the edge between heresy and honor. Fleet based operations keep brothers separated by time and space. Yet, as a whole they are slipping slowly into chaos. Your challenge is to find that moment for a brother in the Knights of Blood chapter and chronicle their story.
Not all chapters of Space Marines fall to the temptations of Chaos at once. And not all men find its embrace satisfying.
Let us be inspired!
Edited by Tenebris, 05 June 2015 - 07:55 PM.
Desarius sprinted up the winding tunnels with baited breath. One phrase kept echoing through his mind until he started chanting it aloud into the empty corridor.
“Did it work?”
He had descended into this ancient crypt on the promise that an archaeotech weapon held at its center would be the salvation of this world. The cost had been high, his entire command squad had earned the Emperor’s Rest, but he has located the weapon and activated it. He had heard the ancient machinery grind into action, but his very soul ached to know if it had repelled the Eldar invasion from his beloved homeworld. He saw light ahead and doubled his speed. He burst from the entrance portal and he roared out with delight to be in the still open air of Carpathia again. He saw his Chapter’s keep glimmering on the horizon. The air was clear of wretched Eldar fighters!
His eyes began to adjust to the daylight and his jaw went slack with shock. On the field below him, where he expected the remnants of his company to welcome him with open arms, was a scene the likes of which he never thought possible. Hundreds of loyal Marines and Eldar scum alike lay in heaps like refuse unceremoniously tossed into a waste receptacle. A moment of inspection showed that they had fallen in the midst of close quarters combat. He paused before a Marine whose combat blade was buried in the shoulder of an Eldar warrior. What would have been an efficient kill stroke was paused part way through its victim. Desarius looked for damage on the Marine’s armor, but he could not find any indication of what had sealed the fate of this brave warrior of the Emperor.
Desarius fell to his knees unable to bear the grief that was seeping from his heart and into his limbs. Were they all like this? Had his Chapter fallen despite his efforts?
“What has happened here? Did I cause this?” he yelled, knowing no one but the Emperor could hear him.
“You did,” proclaimed a raspy voice behind him. A skeleton-like hand touched his left pauldron lightly. “Activating the weapon released an ancient plague on this planet. All life was terminated immediately. You have very much pleased the Lord of Decay today.”
“What…” Desarius mumbled, stumbling back to his feet. He turned to the trespasser and found a robed form, roughly the height of a Marine, but with none of the body mass. The wraith was armed with a large scythe in one bony hand; the other was still extended toward Desarius. “Who are you? What is your purpose here?”
The phantom chuckled. “Come with me. I will show you. Nurgle has such hopes for you. ”
“Never!” Desarius exclaimed, jumping back away from the creature. He glanced around for a weapon and raised his guard. “I will not turn from the Emperor! Leave me Daemon.”
The dead hands of the specter rose up and pulled back its hood. Desarius was startled to see his own features looking back at him, although drawn and sickly. “Oh my son… but you already have.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The warrior formerly known as Desarius of the Crimson Eagles lifted his head to look at the ancient Marine he was keeling before.
“And that was the day that you embraced Chaos?” Lord Skeletus wheezed from his command chair.
“No,” Desarius the Worldkiller said “That came some time later; after I had learnt the truth of the Gods and the powers they can bestow. The story I have related is from my day of ruination, as you asked. The day the Emperor’s light decided to no longer shine on me.”
Follow my hobby on Shepherds of Rot Facebook Page & SoR Battle Report Thread
So, do we have to write about the Knights of Blood, or can we do any ruination moment?
My Chaos WIP Thread (Bigger Pics and Foul Xenos offsite) Hall of Honour, My Storm Reavers (DIY SM Chapter) Story, My Chaos 7.5 Homebrew Codex Thread
In us burns a fire for vengeance that will only be quenched when we stand triumphant over the smoldering ruins of Terra. Our laughter on that day will haunt their survivors till the end of time. We will stride forth victorious through the shattered gates of their fortress, holding high aloft the defiled corpse of their rotting god as our prize.
Wulfkry, on 02 Jul 2013 - 3:38 PM, said: So an inquisitor is receiving SM implants using GK geneseed stolen off the fields of armageddon interesting..
Captain Semper, on 29 May 2015 - 4:10 AM, said: There is crazy and there is Teetengee crazy...
x9
I'm not dead, and I like 8th better than 7th.
Follow my Inquisitor Build at Valeria Mane Retenio
Soldiers serving under Inquisitor Retenio Imperial Army
Bullgryn Brute squad (converted Fantasy Ogres) Build / Paint thread here
Carcharodon Predation Fleet Mako deployed against Tyranid forces. Follow here Here and here
Kroot Mercenary Warband "The Four Fingers" Read here and here
"Suffer not the moldline to live"
Motto of the Ordo Modellus
I've been wanting to join in for a while now, and this seems like a great topic! How long is it until entries need to be done by?
The contest is Friday to Friday, so get your entries in by the following Thursday night for judging. Other than that, it's been said that past topics are OK to revisit, but they are out of competition.
"Suffer not the moldline to live"
Motto of the Ordo Modellus
The universe is full of wonders
And I have seen many things
But one thing that has continued to mistify me
through out my life
is the peoples blinding devotion
like cattle
to a dead corpse on a throne
Why
why do they give their lives
their children
their materials
their livelihood
to a corpse....
I was one of the blind
at first
one of the endless number of demigods
guarding the empire
from harm
and yet
the oh so holy order
of the inquisition
wiped my chapter from their records
and blasted my chapters home from orbit
and murders my brothers
un aware
glory lost
sacrifices desecrated
hunted down like dogs
until we
of the second squad 1st company
were the survivors
and you say unto us
why are you here
and I say to you
You act like cattle, mindlessly following a dead mans words without thinking
what are cattle meant for? why are they alive?
Cattle were meant to be butchered
So let us be the butchers on your planet
Pray?
for if you'd rather die tired
who are we to stop you?
~vox transmission to the planetary governor of achioll terrax
Edited by Kongou, 07 June 2015 - 10:27 PM.
Edited by Teetengee, 08 June 2015 - 06:33 PM.
My Chaos WIP Thread (Bigger Pics and Foul Xenos offsite) Hall of Honour, My Storm Reavers (DIY SM Chapter) Story, My Chaos 7.5 Homebrew Codex Thread
In us burns a fire for vengeance that will only be quenched when we stand triumphant over the smoldering ruins of Terra. Our laughter on that day will haunt their survivors till the end of time. We will stride forth victorious through the shattered gates of their fortress, holding high aloft the defiled corpse of their rotting god as our prize.
Wulfkry, on 02 Jul 2013 - 3:38 PM, said: So an inquisitor is receiving SM implants using GK geneseed stolen off the fields of armageddon interesting..
Captain Semper, on 29 May 2015 - 4:10 AM, said: There is crazy and there is Teetengee crazy...
x9
I'm not dead, and I like 8th better than 7th.
Belief.
Man has always believed in something, from the ancients anthropomorphizing the sun, the moon and other heavenly bodies through the bloody religious wars of the millennia surrounding man’s first steps into the stars. Some utter in hushed voices that man was once freed from belief before the coming of the Emperor, but it is a foolhardy, heretical soul who makes such claims. Humanity is now, on the cusp of the 41st millennia, united in the worship of the Master of Mankind. Many sects - a great many across the countless stars of the Imperium - but nevertheless united in one belief, under one god.
Such a belief serves the heaving innumerable masses. Assuages their fears, provides an icon for their worship, a source of hope.
And it provides the Lords of Terra and the Ecclisiarchy with a means to maintain their iron grip on the reins of the Imperium.
But such a belief is not shared by the Astartes. Least not by all. Whilst the Black Templars have their zeal, such is not the case with us of the Stygian Guard, fellow sons of Dorn though we are.
Then what do we believe in? Two thoughts spring to mind.
Duty. Though our chaplains stripped our chapter of all trappings of custom and culture, pomp and circumstance - we have not a funeral dirge for the fallen nor celebration in victory - we have our duty. The mission is paramount and the Guard are willing to go to any lengths in order to fulfill it. Any lengths.
Pain. The one observance of our progenitor chapter - the Imperial Fists - which we have maintained is the nerve glove, also known as the pain glove. It is via this instrument that the Astartes of our chapter purify themselves. Desire, woe, confusion, elation…even pride?...all are stripped away to leave naught but duty.
What then could have caused us to sway from these binary precepts?
To be used, as the mindless weapon we made ourselves, by Terra. The dirtiest deeds thrown to the Stygian Guard: the Emperor’s ferrymen. Some say the tipping point was the Inquisition calling upon the entirety of the first company - the Bloody First - to quell the uprising on Cyprius III. The lack of honour. Respect...and in truth our gall at this was the first indication that the nerve glove had failed to strip pride from us entirely.
The pursuit of duty. Even when chapter master Sophusar summoned the rest of the chapter to Cyprius III, investigating the Bloody First’s disappearance and finding them Fallen, our commander ordered the pursuit of the mission: the quelling of the uprising, rather than dealing with our kin who had turned butchers. Our regular strategies, gleaned from seconding our chaplains over centuries to other chapters, failed against the madness of the cults of Cyprius III. Chaos cults. It was master of sanctity Angra who suggested that we adopt the tactics of our enemy as we had adopted those of our allies since our inception. It began with the scouts infiltrating the native cults. Their garb, their customs even down to the tattooing and piercing, were taken up by our infiltrators and soon appeared as trophies and more on other units. Terror tactics the likes of which harken back to the atrocities of certain traitorous legions of old whose names are now stricken from record. We lied to ourselves that it was duty, while the thrill of such sadistic acts was kindled within each of us.
To a babe who has supped naught but his mother’s milk, the juice of fruit is as ambrosia and to we who had denied ourselves all stimulation but pain, these new experiences - as we steadily delved deeper and lost control of ourselves - were the same.
Rather than being raised, their enemy’s temples were occupied. The heretics’ own tomes were soon being seized rather than burned, and from them we gleaned what ken we could of their dark arts. And used it against them.
Now, our mission complete, the enemy slain and the Bloody First shackled, we set sail for our homeworld of Fulcrum. We know that the deeds we have perpetrated are unforgivable, anathema to the Imperial way and the Codex Astartes. If - nay, when - our treachery is discovered, they will send executioners for our heads.
The Templars, likely.
The Wolves if we are unlucky.
And so master Sophusar prepares us. The next step, we are told, is direct contact with the servants of that Power we now adore. This new belief is yet young in our minds and I cannot yet bring myself to name it, for names have power and, while I hunger with a desire for excess, I dare not draw that Great Power’s attention so soon.
`I dare not`, I find myself thinking. Do I feel fear? The shackles of Imperial Doctrine no longer bind me and I find I do now know fear, a great fear which competes with the hunger for saturnalia...a hunger I can only hope to keep sated to keep the fear at bay. To eclipse it with greater and greater pleasures.
He blinked.
He had seen dozens of such spectacles, dozens of vessels cracking apart like overdry wood, dozens of flares of plasma and nuclear fire as reactors went critical and spilled their searing blood into the void.
Yet he blinked.
Did he need to? Was it really his post-human eyes responding to the sudden and intense flash of light in an all too human biological foible? Or was it--
"Pity."
Crassus spoke with a curt, clipped tone. His words, always few in number, sounding as if they were spit from a mouth full of dust. He had known that Crassus was standing behind him since before the Champion spoke, the whine of Astartes plate accentuated by the low, indistinct murmurs that seemed to surround Crassus at all times. Crassus himself claimed to not hear them, though his head would occasionally tic to the side, as if responding to a call just at the edge of his senses.
"Pity Crassus? I would not have thought you familiar with the sentiment." Szadek responded evenly, his voice not betraying his obvious sarcasm, his eyes not leaving the disintegrating wreck as it rolled onto its side and began to separate into hundreds of constituent pieces.
"Not for them."
Szadek could hear Crassus's armor servos whine louder as he raised his hand to waive dismissively toward the slowly dispersing wreckage. The muttering voices seemed to quiet, as if allowing their host to speak.
"For the ship. We could have taken it. Ammunition, promethium, a damned ship. A waste. A pity."
Szadek furrowed his brow. Why hadn't he taken it? It was an Astartes Strike Cruiser, a ship of the line; and it would have made a fine addition to Lord Huron's fleet. And yet it was also an insult. A blasphemy, a curse upon the name of the Astral Claws.
"I remember her." He responded finally, lowering his eyes from the bridge viewport and running them over the milling human crew, as if inspecting them for laxity or incompetence.
"She was there Crassus. She was there at the sacking of Badab, the beat of our legacy."
Crassus, who was of Ultramarine stock and had only later joined the Corsairs after becoming stranded on a daemon world at the edge of the Maelstrom and slowly acquiring his ethereal entourage, only grunted.
"Is it foolish, do you think?" Szadek continued.
"Foolish to have pride in a dead chapter? A legacy of ashes?"
"Oh our legacy is ashes brother." Crassus actually chuckled as he spoke, a rarely witnessed sound that reminded Szadek of stones sliding down a mountainside. Crassus chuckled, and the voices chuckled with him.
"Ashes indeed brother! Bones and ashes." He raised his hand again and this time pointed straight out toward the now darkened debris.
"Bones and ashes! Theirs."
Szadek Katarr raised his eyes again. Yes Badab had burned, but in due time, so would Terra.
"I remember the day. The day the sky burned as the Dead Emperor's pet butchers descended on Old Badab to tear down all that we had built in His own name. It was in the final hours of that day that I scourged the wings from my breastplate forever. I remember the day. I remember, and so will they."
-Szadek Katarr, Warleader of the Red Corsairs
Angry Chaos Player since the dawn of Gav
Greetings and welcome to Inspirational Friday. This week, as promised, a frater will chose the winner so I will let arinhere's words speak for him:
I have decided that Carrack should win. His story stayed within the limits of the challenge and also was very well written. It was a close decision though. I really liked Castellan Cato and his story of Nurgly goodness.
I might even throw my hand into a future challenge as a writer. Until I posted that picture, I had no idea this thread existed.
Step forth Carrack and claim your reward!
I thank arinhere for his participation to Challenge the Traitors and for his awesome topic. I am really looking forward to read your contribution and let it be known that you are always welcome here in Inspirational Friday.
Said that I have more news. I have posted the second Challenge the Traitors event in the Amicus area. Let us see who writes the best Chaos poem for he or she will indeed have some great topics in store for us.
Inspirational Friday - 12/06/2015 - Chaos Sidekick
Every Chaos Lord has one, and no, I am not speaking of the Horus peluche and nor of the coffee mug with "I was on Terra" on it, no, what I am speaking of is of a slimy, unfortunate and totally awesome sidekick.
One of the many perks of being a master villain is to have a horde of disposable minions at your beck and call, but there is this particular minion which is the favorite one of his master. For this week's Inspirational Friday I want you to write about this lowly sidekick and bonus points will be awarded if the sidekick is funny.
Let us be inspired!
Tenebris