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Erebus and the Word Bearers
Posted 17 September 2008 - 01:19 PM
Posted 17 September 2008 - 01:35 PM
the emperor reprimanded Lorgar and his legion for Worshiping him as a god, Lorgar goes off, sulks and finds something willing to be Worshiped (chaos gods)
lorgar sends Erebus of to "turn" Horus.
(hey i said it was short )
Posted 17 September 2008 - 01:58 PM
Posted 17 September 2008 - 02:33 PM
Posted 17 September 2008 - 05:48 PM
Lord of the One True Army
Posted 20 September 2008 - 04:07 AM
You know, of all the guys I wanted to see perish during the HH, Erebus was number one on the list. Unfortunately for me ...
He's alive and still causing all kinds of pain into the middle of the 41st at least.
- H. L. Mencken, in Minority Report (1956)
Posted 20 September 2008 - 07:55 AM
Posted 20 September 2008 - 08:56 AM
The great Gaels of Ireland,
are men that God made mad.
For all their wars are merry
and all their songs are sad.
Posted 20 September 2008 - 10:53 AM
i was under the impression that kor phaeron turned lorgar and typhon was already a devout of chaos when mortarion was turned im not sure about the rest of the legions but i thought that there was some devout of chaos high up in every legion before the books i thought it was abbadon who nudged horus
We have a problem with two sets of fluff.
In the Index astartes series, Typhon was corrupted from the start and was actualy a Librarian of the Death Guard and not 1st Captain.
The Horus heresy books, based on the fluff produced for the horus heresy CCG has Typhon as 1st Captain of the Deathguard and in esienstien suggests Erebus turned him yo chaos.
There are a fair few of these contradicitions so it's confusing which to go for as far as 'canon' is concerned.
Posted 20 September 2008 - 11:20 AM
Posted 20 September 2008 - 04:09 PM
What was that stink?
Why did he torture himself with questions to which he already knew the answers?; It was the stink of abjection, of failure and despair. He had tried, hadn't he? He had fought so hard to please the one he called Father and Saviour, yet what had his efforts earned him?
Censure and rejection!
He shook his head, clawing at the ritually scarred flesh of his cheeks as the memories resurfaced:
"You purpose is to fight, Lorgar. You are my weapon, my sword; not my holy writ. Humanity has...evolved, my son. It is no longer slave to faith and superstition. Though it will pain you, it is time that you too threw off these shackles."
Shackles? What was humanity, what was any species without faith? Was it not faith that drove his Father's endeavours throughout the galaxy, that was the very foundation of his expanding empire?
No, regardless of what his Father proclaimed, faith could not be so blithely thrown aside.
Rising, Lorgar cast sunken, haunted eyes about his personal chambers. The room had once been his refuge; a private temple personally raised in honour of His Father. Now it was a ruin, the icons torn down and shattered, the altar smashed by a single blow of his own fist. Walls that could withstand mortar rounds were buckled and dented from the violence he'd inflicted upon them, and stained with his blood. Though he had difficulty recalling it clearly, there'd been fire at one point, an evil flame into which he'd stared unblinking, inviting it to rise and lick out his eyes, to burn this shadow of shame and confusion from his mind. The fire had not obliged.
Striding to the pile of ashes that were all that remained of the many hundreds of psalms and epistles he had personally penned in reflection upon his Father's might, he knelt and scooped up a handful of the refuse. Watching trails of it seep between his massive fingers, he reflected upon the score of worlds his legion had reduced to much the same, civilisations that spanned star systems put to the torch for the heresy of refusing to accept The Emperor's sovreignty. And he'd never doubted, not for a second, the ineffable rightness of it.
But he did now.
His wounds, self inflicted during the long hours of his rage, stung as he ground the ashes into them. His supernatural metabolism had begun healing the hurts almost as soon as they were inflicted. It'd taken a great deal of effort on his part to ensure that they remained open, and bleeding.
"Help me..." He whispered, tears coming as his Father's face rose in the dark behind his eyes. There'd been such love from that face at one time, such adoration that Lorgar felt he might burst with the surfeit of it. Now he felt nothing but the cold slime of contempt seeping into him, polluting him from skin to soul.
As if in answer, the face's beauty, its sculpted, statuesque perfection, began to wither, cheeks shrinking and splitting, eyes sinking, raven hair slithering out in filth matted clumps. Soon what was left was little more than a corpse, its filth-caked grin seeming to mock him for his theatrics.
"Is this what you call a God?" It was the voice of his own thoughts, the voice of his faith, distorted as if filtered through a malfunctioning comm-link.
"Would you offer up your prayers to a corpse?"
"No!" He roared, rising from his squat and driving his head into a nearby pillar, again and again and again, until the vile vision shattered. A red, liquid curtain closed over his field of vision, his faith's ruins stained the colour of slaughter.
"Look to the ashes and the flames, Lorgar. There is more truth there than He has ever conceived of..."
What was that? A flicker of flame amidst the ashes, an ember of his rage not yet completely darkened? Sweeping the blood from his eyes, Lorgar stumbled towards the rising column of smoke, casting about at the faint whispers that seemed to echo in the chamber's shadows....
Or something like that . A little rough maybe, but I was just typing this on the fly as an example of what MIGHT be done.
"We are not your enemies, child; we seek only to break the chains that bind you; to enlighten you as to the true beauty of being. Those that stand at your back, herding you onto our blades...those that would see you expire in blood and dirt; they are your enemies, and have been since the moment you were conceived..."
- Attributed to La'sai DeSandros, agitator of the Del Torro Profligacy, also known as He of The Sweetest Cut, The Lord of Embraces, arch-heretic of the Severed Angels renegades:
The Strange Playgrounds:
Posted 21 September 2008 - 04:48 AM
err, wait.. nvm that was done
really, there are so many story lines that should be brought out in the HH... the best way, in my mind to show the "fall" of the word bearers, is to showcase the campaigns that led up to the Emperors reprimand. maybe the climax scene could be lorgar's first communique with the booming invisible voice of some chaos god. they need to have some stuff about the RG in the heresy (both before and after istvaan....more than just getting massacred) of course, some stuff that revolves around prospero.... (perhaps that could be tied in with Lorgar somehow, id bet GW would have no problem with Magnus fiddling around and tricking lorgar, or other primarchs thru the warp or something.... im sure that the E would ahve a problem with practical jokes thru the warp, as thats all magnus really wanted, was a good practical joke )
Posted 21 September 2008 - 05:12 AM
i like the idea for the word bearers, especially the ending. but instead of having the booming chaos voice, have the Emperor reprimand Lograr in person, and upon his departure a small voice beckons Lograr, promising him wat the Emperor denied. we all know the rest.
wolf lord kieran
Space Wolves are badasses that operate just barely within the rules. 13th Co. didn't even know there were rules applying to how badass they could be. DepthCharge on the Space Wolves
I'm so pleased that GW have gone to such great lengths to produce these awesome Space Wolves basing kits. Wraithwing on the Thousand Sons Rubic Marine release
"The Fell Hand is a name that has been passed on through out the Legion. When one warrior bearing it died, the name is left to be earned by another. Thus it was passed from Floki to Volund to Erik to Geigor. And then the tradition died, because Bjorn got the name and proceeded to live for 10 millenia." - Sagas of the Wolf Priests. Wispy