+++ Lorgar Aurelian, Master of the XVII Legion +++

[Noctus Cornix]

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A Pearl, that a Lord might be content to clutch to their breast and encircle with gold. It is this most costly of jewel I say, to none brought forth be precious like to it. It is the regalia of a Monarch true, the prize above all others…

 

The Flame of Humanity. The flittering candle of hope, so comely in ornament, so quick to fall to darkness that it must be guarded with all measure of life expended but to the final breath. It is this Pearl of Mankind that one who weareth the mantle of Imperator Immortal shared in this solemn duty to angels not born of man. A burden like no other, to falter was but an inevitability. One son, he who stared most longingly into the Pearl of Fire, would close his hands around the candle… and in Want extinguish it forever…

 

- Opening lines of  ‘Elegia Vanitatis’,  the Elegy of Emptiness     

 

 

 

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It began with our Forebearer. There is an ancient Terran proverb that the sins of the Father weigh mostly heavily upon his children. I cannot help but hold a witless smile as I curse that scholar for their forsight into the greatest calamity to the testament of mankind’s fading legacy.

 

To those of my brothers who played the role of kin-slayer in that ancient act of betrayal, he was known as a Primarch.

 

There are countless titles that have been laid upon the mantle of our father even before his grand treachery to mankind. Across hundreds of Terran script and documentation he was known as the Urizen, the Golden Son, the Mountain, the Voice of Truth, Master of the XVIIth Legion. Once the grinding gears of the Tragedy’s opening began to turn and our species slowly bled to the marrow, he would be known as the Cancer, Herald of the Primordial Truth, The Arch-Traitor, the First Heretic. To his sons, my dearest kindred who followed him into the depths of sorrow before his apotheosis unto the Four Winds, he was deified in the ancient Colchisian tongue of our birthplance ‘Aurelian’. Perhaps as a beacon of light to guide them through the darkness they now drowned themselves in.

 

These are all but titles, symbolism and familiarity, curses and jovial praises. His name was Lorgar, and he is the architect of mankind’s extinction. 

 

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Son of a God- To look upon a son of the Immortal Emperor is to gaze upon genetic perfection, an experience of which none have witnessed unchanged. These are the features of an avatar to humanity's indomitable will, yet set apart from the constrains of human limitations. They are more than human, yet this is perhaps the singular flaw to mark the creation of a being to lead humanity, when it is not human itself. 

 

Of all the Primarchs, none quite share a likeness to their father as the Urizen, his caramel skin, illuminated golden by the minuscule Colchisian glyphs, the striking image of his father's radiant majesty. His eyes of stone gray, like that of the lilies of his homeworld share the paradox of  softness shared by his warm smile and the burning fires of one who is with belief unbroken.

 

Even in the depths of treacher, as Aurelian led his sons into the darkness and played the arch-traitor in the greatest civil-war of mankind's history, his genetic avataric perfection remained unchanged as the beacon of light in the dark, no matter the great weight his sorrow.

 

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Armour of the Word - In times before his great treachery, Lorgar Aurelian was a living Icon of his faith, wreathed in golden armour most befitting a Primarch, yet it was without ostentatious regalia, bare and unadorned warplate cast in the likeness of the same MK III warplate worn by his sons. All scrolls and parchment were glorification to the Emperor and the Primarch's duty to mankind.

 

Gone are those days and now the Lord of the Word Bearers Legion remains a living icon to his faith, yet it is a darker path. Bound in artificer warplate in likeness of MK IV Maximus armour, the Armour of the Word is a fetish etched in occult astrological charts and forbidden runic symbols. It is a far cry of his humble roots and testament to how fall he has fallen.

 

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Illuminarium - ​The progenitor of all crozius arcanums, the Illuminarium is the Primarch's regalia. The weapon's haft is the cream of ivory, reinforced by a grip of black iron. Its head is an orb of adamantium, stained black through a forgemaster's touch and decorated with silver-leafed runes. Evenly spaced spikes the length of a human forearm project from its outer edges, lending the mace a brutish air that one might have said stood at odds with the philosophical seeker who carried it across the stars. Worlds burned and billions of lives have been sentenced to death with the sentence of such a weapon. It is no surprise that some found that brutish connotation quite fitting.

 

The weapon itself was forged by Ferrus Manus, Primarch of the Iron Hands. Even after the forgemaster's death Lorgar continued to carry the crozius, a murder of which its origins lay in the orchestrations of the Aurelian himself.

 

 

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The Primordial Truth -  Lorgar embraced the darker powers he found there in the abyss, a secret to the end of all life that he perceived as the Primordial Truth of Khos, or Chaos as the malevolence of the warp has been titled. With this new found knowledge, Lorgar set about the construct of the Imperium's downfall. From the dark powers he found sorcerous lore in forbidden tombs not meant for any sane eyes scrawled in Dark Speech, the progenitor of Colchisian. Such ancient rites allowed him to unlock his full psychic potential, a Golden Avatar upon the battlefield weaving the very starts themselves and the strands of fate the play out the grand tragedy intended for mankind.

 

http://i915.photobucket.com/albums/ac352/Noctus-Cornix/20160401_205123_zps5mxranyi.jpg 

 

Bitter Hatred - Though he may have denied it to himself and his sons, Lorgar held within his soul the shard of resentment towards his brother Guilliman and the shame in failing those he swore to protect. Such feelings within him, made manifest in the Aurelian's merciless cruelty as he and his legion put 500 worlds to fire and torment. The sons of Roboute were shown no mercy for an offence they did not commit, tortured and sacrificed to the profane rites to satiate the neverborn. It was Lorgar's belief that, some where, some how, Guilliman had always hated him... only to come to the terrible revelation of his own folly when the two came to blows on Nuceria amidst the Ruinstorm.

 

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A God Among Men - To be a Primarch among Space Marines was no different to an Astartes among mortal men, an avatar of war and destruction gene-forged to be the perfect general. A living, breath avatar of the Imperium's warmachine. Though perhaps not in spirit, Lorgar was no different in this, a being of genetic perfection in majesty and terrible wrath, a commander of a Legion true and standing head and shoulders above his sons. Even those of the Gal Vorbak and Dhar Aqshyash, sons of the Legion brought to communion with daemons and gifted with unnatural strength and stature were but frail children in the eyes of a God's son.

 

 

 

If you wish to read of the opening story and see more Word Bearers to come, click here.

+++In Memoriam+++

[Charlo]

Awesome!

[Torvak Kyre]

I don't know why but the turn of the head makes me love the model so much more

[Shard of Magnus]

The hexagrams on the cloak are a very nice touch and I might have to copy that idea when I paint mine.

[Noctus Cornix]

Thank you kindly, gents.

 

I don't know why but the turn of the head makes me love the model so much more

Its actually also Horus' head, not Lorgar's. Given how he has always been described as this radiant, golden son and the spitting image of the Emperor, I always found it odd that his basoc head looked a bit like a prune..

[captainblow]

There is no way I can't approve of Lorgar stomping on some of those blue guys..

 

You did a very good job on lorgar, what else do you have coming up?

[Noctus Cornix]

There is no way I can't approve of Lorgar stomping on some of those blue guys..

 

You did a very good job on lorgar, what else do you have coming up?

Better dead than blue... wait, not entirely sure that's how it goes. Well it is now.

 

For what comes next, I have my Word Bearers force, the Chapter of the Ruined King. You'll see them turn up on In Memoriam. I can't say much else for now. :D

[Thedarkprincesnun]

damn thats one beautiful lorgar

[Noctus Cornix]

Well, the Golden Son is supposedly one handsome devil. :D

 

Thanks, man. I appreciate it.

[Torvak Kyre]

Thank you kindly, gents.

I don't know why but the turn of the head makes me love the model so much more

Its actually also Horus' head, not Lorgar's. Given how he has always been described as this radiant, golden son and the spitting image of the Emperor, I always found it odd that his basoc head looked a bit like a prune..

Well the fact I didn't notice just shows how sleek of a conversion you have managed.

[Noctus Cornix]

Well thank you kindly for that.

As for Lorgar's original head? Well, I still have Horus' body... Now to plan the creation of a corrupted Horus...