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Sin of Pride / Slaanesh inspiration art:
« on: April 28, 2014, 08:48:47 PM »

Sin of Pride / Wiki is up
« on: April 27, 2014, 09:45:54 PM »
The wiki is in the process of being rebuilt.

Had ALOT of spam/bot accounts after I set it up (and didn't even link it).

I think I have that under control, after days of trying to figure it out. is the link.

And a return of the Lord Commander's Database.

Sin of Pride / Reference of the Emperor's Children
« on: April 22, 2014, 11:13:17 AM »
Looking for any and all references to the Emperor's Children.


[Title of Article][Document][Pgs]

Sin of Wrath / Fan Made Emperor's Children Codex
« on: April 21, 2014, 01:26:12 PM »
Poem is mentioned as helping create it:

Haven't read all the way through it, and I haven't read a Chaos codex since they killed the 3.5 one.  (Yep, that long).

So here you go, for those interested:

Stories of Lust / Perfect act, broken mind by Homemaster
« on: April 17, 2014, 10:14:25 PM »
Perfect Act, Broken Mind

The Thunderhawk gunship swung stealthily through the night sky, settling down in a sparse clearing amongst the thick jungle. This was no loyal Thunderhawk though; it was a twisted and malformed version of it’s former self. And it bore the livery of the Emperor’s Children. Within it sat Lord Hedon, Captain of the 6th Great Company, along with 50 of his hand-picked warriors. They had avoided detection from the alien fleet in orbit, and now attempted to steal what was precious to them. Along with slaves, thought Hedon hopefully. New slaves mean new pleasures to be enjoyed – something to look forward to. Now was a time for battle, a battle that would prove to be a challenge, he assumed. He smiled and began to anticipate the repute that was coming.

* * *

More high-energy shots pounded their position, and Hedon was forced back behind the rubble yet again. This was going far too slowly. The Thunderhawk had managed to blow a hole in the outer wall from numerous fly-bys, but had received a few hits and was now awaiting its cargo. Thankfully the compound seemed lightly defended, the enemy having no heavy weaponry at their disposal. At least, not that they could see, mused Hedon grimly. Surprises were always the best challenges though. It was a100 metres to the main complex from the breach, but between them the ground was littered with low dugouts from which most of the fire came. Bunkers that extended from the corners of headquarters allowed for sweeping lines of fire and crossfire, and heavier fire seemed to be coming from them. The Emperor’s Children were gathered around the breach on either side, unable to advance due to the sheer amount of firepower. A group of heavily armed Noise Marines gave covering fire from the tree line, preventing any attacks from the walls with blasts of pure noise or searing rays of ruby las-fire. Hedon knew they had to advance soon for fear of reinforcements.
“A fast strike in, and out, this is what we must achieve. For Her pleasure!” screamed Hedon, his voice filling his men with wonder and purpose. They prepared efficiently, salivating at what was to come.

* * *

Ryu sat in his command centre at the top of the compound as he watched his Fire Warriors perform admirably. The enemy was being kept at bay, and reinforcements were en route, but he did not know how long they would be. He felt confident that his detachment could hold of the attackers for as long as it took. Looking through his scopulars, Ryu suddenly saw grenades shoot through the breach, spewing forth thick, pink-shaded smoke. The rate of fire slowed as the warriors tried to see what was happening.
“Keep on your guard. Fire at will,” shouted Ryu through his communication line. Out of no where a huge figure charged out of the smoke, a perverted Gue’laa covered in purple, pink and gold armour. Every shot was too late, missing the enemy soldier by at least half a body length. Behind him came more warriors in the same insignia, but not so magnificent. They moved quickly, jumping into fox-holes and slaughtering those they found. To Ryu’s surprise and horror, more of these beasts appeared on the wall to the left of the breach, but were not seen by those below who were concentrating on the first threat. He stared, transfixed, as they set up their weapons, his hand hovering over the communication button. Quickly, he snapped out of the trance.
“Rock element, hostiles on wall, left of main body, open fire now!” he yelled quickly, with fear in his voice. But it was too late, as these warriors opened fire on his exposed men in the trenches. Warbling patches of reality screamed towards them, the sound unbearable, and he heard his warriors scream in agony as they were overcome. Huge gouges of soil were torn up by these strange weapons, along with bodies, limbs flailing and corpses disintegrating. Finally the bunkers were able to open fire, but the damage had been done, and the loathsome opponent had managed to find good cover. While this fire fight occurred Ryu turned back to the scene at the infringement. Hardly any shots were being fired, and a chill was sent down the commander’s spine as he saw the foe begin to muster a fresh charge. Ryu knew what he had to do, and he had to do it soon.

“All units, converge on Wall Three, I repeat, converge on Wall Three immediately. Hostiles have breached, and are converging on the Western Gate. Bring out the Kroot.”

* * *

Hedon smiled as he ran, his cruel blade whickering left to right, disembowelling or beheading in a single stroke. These beings were no challenge for him or his loyal followers, and they quickly swept towards the control centre. Unexpectedly, a fresh burst of gunfire came from the left bunker, three of his men disappearing in the fusillade of energy and dirt. Cursing, he and the rest of the company ducked into the nearest cover. The Noise Marines on the wall were keeping the other bunker busy, but Hedon and his men needed covering fire now, and the rearguard with heavy weapons were taking too long. A delightful feeling of uncertainty passed through the Chaos lord, and he shuddered as things came into focus. With a roar he stood against the shots being fired, pure, shimmering energy enveloping him. At that same moment, the heavy guns opened fire from the breach, ripping into the bunker. A beam of noise shot past Hedon, filling his nerves and sinews with power, and rendering the inhabitants of the bunker senseless. All around him Emperor’s Children stood with their lord, and as one they charged towards to entrance. Strangely, there were creatures there waiting for them, creatures with spines along their back and beaks for mouths. They looked fearsome, and Hedon hoped they were as good an adversary as they looked. A particularly large and scarred beast stepped forward, and gave out a screeching cry, indicating a call to war. Two can play at that game, thought Hedon gleefully. As one the charging Emperor’s Children shrieked a siren’s call, louder, more perilous, and enrapturing to behold. The fighting seemed to stop, the Tau in their bunkers frozen in wonder, while the Kroot halted before they had begun, longing and dread in their eyes. It was all that was needed for the Children of the Emperor. Within moments they were amongst them, ripping through weak flesh and crushing skulls. Hedon saw, heard, and felt the overwhelming feeling of battle, felt it course through his veins, enjoying every moment. From the flowing melee came their leader. Quickly his attention focussed on this individual, the energy around him building up to a crescendo. Together they struck out, dancing around each other, both with an unnatural agility. Blades flashing, ducking, weaving, striking, the two fought on. However, the Kroot could not touch Hedon, while the Chosen of Chaos struck his opponent with every strike, drawing blood. Abruptly out of nowhere a serrated blade struck Hedon, biting into his flesh behind his knee. Hedon turned to see a dying Kroot warrior being finished by another Emperor’s Child, after it had managed to wound him. Realising the danger, he turned back, only to have the wounded Kroot leap at him, the huge knife curving down towards him. Every muscle twitched with anticipation and wonder, a feeling of the unknown overcoming him. As if in slow motion the sword made for his head. With lightening quick reflexes Hedon dodged to his right, the blade slamming into his shoulder guard and becoming stuck fast. The Kroot warrior looked perplexed for a moment before Hedon’s own sword stabbed into it’s gut. Hedon came in close, and whispered into the thing’s ear.
“That was fun.”
Rearing back Hedon raised his fist to strike, the daemon contained within it willing for the sensation of blood. It came forward at speed, pulverising the creature’s head instantly, the shock and fear washing over Hedon. The satisfaction of the kill met every desire. But soon it was gone; the desire to reach what was inside his only goal.

* * *

Chief Commander Ryu had watched all this from his command station, the carnage and acts of wanton destruction, all occurring as if from a dream. His forces had been wiped out before his eyes, and the reinforcements were doubtful. Those Fire Caste left were fighting a losing battle, but one that he could attempt to save. There was only one option left in order to save what was contained within these walls, and it had to be now before the enemy managed to gain access. However the foul Chaos scum had found out what was here was unimaginable, but stopping them was all that mattered anyway.

* * *

The weakling Tau soldiers were attempting to flank the Emperor’s Children with minimal success, their superior position preventing a strong counter attack. They had lost around 10 men, too many for Hedon’s liking, and this was taking far too long. A few were working at getting inside, operating as quickly as possible. As Hedon oversaw operations his keen hearing picked up a low whining, that steadily began to rise. Before he could imagine what it was, three large humanoid machines rose into the air from the other side of the base, swooping in front of his men and raking them with fire. Explosions lit up the field, Chaos marines melting before the wave of plasma and disappearing in the bright explosions of rockets. Every pass killed or wounded killed a few more, the marines hugging cover as best they could. A few stood defiantly firing sonic weapons. One scored a direct hit, the powerful wave of energy boring a hole right through a battle suit before it exploded, showering the scene with flaming parts. The lead suit landed, concentrating it’s fire on those with heavy weapons. Hedon took this as his opportunity and charged forth, the daemon calling for the thing’s blood, and Hedon could no longer resist the call. Barely ten feet from his goal the machine turned to face him, and unleashed a short burst. The rounds struck out at Hedon, but he kept going, the daemon pulling him forward with greater and greater speed. Every shot that hit home was a new experience, the pain and pleasure rising as one. With one last leap, he struck out at the Tau commander, the daemon weapon ripping through metal and into the soft flesh behind it. Hedon bathed in the glory of his victory, and when the daemon had fed, he stood roaring his defiance upon the wrecked shell. His elite warriors finished the remaining enemy, feeding upon the pain that they delivered. Everything had gone to plan, and now it was a simple matter of retrieving the prize.

* * *

The Thunderhawk soared into the night sky as Tau reinforcements swept through the ruined base. Inside were the signs of torture and torment, those few Fire caste members that had survived coming under the scrutiny of the vengeful Emperor’s Children. Scenes of horror had met them in every corridor and every room. But there was one thing missing – the Council Members who were on a tour of the local garrisons. Among them was a revered Ethereal, and various members of the other Castes. Death had come, and the Tau were shocked and stunned at the brutality wrought upon them, seemingly for no reason. Indeed, Hedon did not have a reason, he mused, as the Thunderhawk exited the atmosphere. He had the Tau Council Members secured at the back of the Thunderhawk, drugged on hallucinogenic cocktails that brought their worst nightmares to the fore. That was all he cared about - the urge to indulge in their pain almost overcoming him. Something inside him said that the raid had been a waste, that the losses of his men outweighed its importance. A nagging feeling told him that the entire mission had no importance and the only reason he had carried it out was for his own pleasure. He knew that the voice was right, of course, but he pushed it deep inside himself and let the sensations of victory overcome him. The rapture from fulfilling a deed for Her pleasure far outweighed any tactical goals. It would be a new experience to torture these beings that had such a bond and unity, one by one, the most important first. Feeding on a new experience was all that mattered any more.

Stories of Lust / Sons of Eternal Uncomfort
« on: April 17, 2014, 10:10:11 PM »
This is a story about being a noise marine, told by my representitive Chaos lord Justin. Yeah i know Justin doesn't sound that warhammer40kish but, it is the name of a saint. A martyr infact that died a horribaly painful death. So i thought it was fitting, and my name in real life is also Justin too.

Sons of Eternal Uncomfort.

Justin, Chaos lord the 56th Emperor’s Children Great Company, The Sons of Eternal Uncomfort, looked into the vast void of space, his mind floating on pleasant memories. Abaddons latest crusade into imperial space had been a great success, chaos reigned all around the tendrils of the eye of terror, and the entire area of space had become a foot hold of chaos. There was no longer any hiding behind warp storms. Cadia, amazingly had been defeated, the heart of imperial defense had been rendered useless, as everything around it now was in chaos control. It was quite refreshing to be in stable space again. The eternal agony inside the eye of terror was of course sublime, but out of the eye's influence there was a real contrast, a conflict between burning hells and ordered space. There was innocence here, that’s what was refreshing. Abaddon of course was a fool, in Justin's opinion. He had no idea why Abaddon was so passionate about claiming the galaxy as his own, it all seemed silly and childish. Of course they should corrupt the innocent and extend the chaos powers, but why go as far as to extend our own power? Slaanesh would offer everything that anyone would ever need, they would simply need to extend her power by simply following your own nature, to feel. All else would follow. Still Slaanesh liked Abaddon, and his leadership had helped unify the chaos powers to finally crush the strangle hold that held them in. The crusades had been long awaited, every legion had been polishing it's weapons and readying it's war machine for some time after the Horus heresy That is after everybody got used to damnation and could concentrate again.

The Emperor’s children were never really about war with the Imperium, just extending its own power to feel. They just poked fun at the Imperium for a laugh. Back when Fabious betrayed the legion for his own experiments, damning them well before any of the other legions became so corrupted. They didn't even help with the attack on the imperial palace. They were too busy gratifying their own desires. Pain had cleansed them of any past foolish untrue desire, of any hatred, nothing else mattered anymore. Justin remembered bounding down the gold plated roads of ancient terra, the normally spectacular scenery of the imperial capital was made so colorful. The horrifying sounds of his bolter assaulted his soul and stable existence, ripping apart his innocence, making all of his life, previous to this moment, pale in comparison, now suddenly forgotten as now it seemed unimportant. The citizens he was terrorizing could not comprehend his existence. He was now more than them, more alive, more existing.

Then something amazing happened, Slaanesh, child of the wonderful Eldar talked to him. She was amazed that such an existence could be possible in mortal bodies. But his space marine training had made him strong, strong enough to feel things so powerful. His soul was shaken, almost until it went out, but Slaanesh now with her attention drawn away from the siege of the palace by this explosion of warp energy emitting by the Emperor's children legion, invested her power into holding their souls safe in warp space, empowering them to endure such destroying sensations. The legion was no longer organized, it had been broken into self gratifying individuals, helping themselves to the public of terra. Some marines lay terrorized in dark corners cowering away from the world, turning off and destroying their sensory equipment. What had Fabious done to them? But Slaanesh answered everyone, accepted everyone of the legion and told them her secrets. She had nearly all but given up hope on the Eldar on giving her influence in the cosmos and needed a new force to preach her words and defile in her name. In a now human dominated galaxy, this legion was perfect. The legion accepted the offer, perhaps she could enlighten them and lead them on though the haze of their new existence.

Now war on a sector scale was a reality again, and the influence of chaos now had many new armies of unarmored humans on it's side. Orcs, Tau, Tyranids, Necrons, could now be retaliated upon. All it needed was the right organization, no doubt Abaddon would once again collect together the legions, and many new armies on crusades against the foes.

The Orc's were hard to corrupt, in a near Khorne worshipping frenzy, in their strangely innocent violence and war mongering. Side by side with their powerful gods they fought any enemy, for fun and in the meantime became numerous and made their own powerful influence in the warp. The Tau young and warp fires small. Their pursuit of pointless logic after logic was insulting, and their sphere of influence held valuable resources. The whole race mindless needed to be completely wiped out before its epidemic of order got any further. It would however be fun to corrupt such a orderly society if it took over the galaxy, it would contrast so well with himself. But there was no point waiting, he wanted to kill them all now. The Tyranids were a biological force of a chaos power called the hive mind, which simply gathered recourses to build hive nodes to further the hive minds power. For what reason? Maybe it made it feel good. The hive minds relentless pursuit of power was insulting to the chaos powers, even Tzeentch, who was offended by anything that assumed it was better than he.

The Necrons were the most offending thing to any thing with a large connection with warp space. They were once corruptible with souls, but the star gods had got to them. The children of this world of reality and atoms, they drew their own power from the stars. They didn't need the powers of chaos, and sought to sow permanent death everywhere by killing every living thing, putting them in their warp severing skeletal machines. They were of course the main threat, which was why the forces of chaos must dominate man as to source enough power to kill the star gods. After the star gods were destroyed, which would be a formidable challenge, the universe would be free.

For now there was more corruption to sow, but nothing much matted to Justin. His own relationship with Slannesh was purely selfish, as hers was with him. He just wanted to feel more and more incredible things, and she let him, in return Slaanesh's influence in the warp was extended and her own power to create such sensations, for herself and others. So Justin didn't care that much for Abaddons little missions he just used the chance so he could experience combat, and make trips into ever so innocent cities to have giant "parties" where the citizens of the city would be more terrified than anything else. He like any other noise marine loved the conflict and contrast created between the innocent and damned. Their psychic screams were ever so beautiful, so powerful, and so loud. Slaanesh fed, as he did, addicted to powerful waves of warp energy.

They had arrived at their destination, a yet uncorrupted city world. Justin psychicly communicated with the possessed ship and readied his suits communicator. "We have arrived my brothers! Prepare for the feast!"

Stories of Lust / fet's - As once you could be
« on: April 17, 2014, 10:08:56 PM »

I was on Beckett’s End when I met him. He didn’t know it then, but he only had three weeks left before he got burned up. He’d just cycled back from the Palomar Campaign and was looking at a few weeks of down time before they sent him back to get shot up again. The leg didn’t hurt anymore by the time I ran into him in a bar in Pozzo, it’d had enough time to heal most of the way back, and the bionics were looking good. Real good. The metal would catch the light wherever he was; I reckon I even saw it glinting prettily through his fatigues a couple of times. Given the source, I’m not surprised.
He was sitting there, at a little table down the back, drinking away all the memories he didn’t want to have with that crap they sell there. Beckett’s End doesn’t have the good stuff—hell, it doesn’t even have the bad stuff, only the really bad stuff. Anyway, he was half awake and looking pretty nasty when I got there. We’d all seen the vids of him by then—as you have, I’m sure—so I knew who he was right away. No one was bothering him, not even the barman who only brought drinks over when he got sick of hearing the guy whimpering. It’s like there was a bubble round him, a good few metres wide. I guess everyone just knew what was gonna happen to him.
I thought to myself that it just ain’t pretty watching a man drink himself into oblivion alone, so I took it upon myself to buy him a couple, maybe get a story out of him.
So I sit down across the table from him, and my foot bangs against that leg of his. A little sort of ting sound comes off of it, and it seems like it’s never gonna stop ringing. Then he puts his hand on it and sorta whispers, like ‘shush’ or something. Like you might talk to your kid to get them to stop crying. Weirded me right out, that. So he looks up at me, holding a drink out to him, and his eyes are bloodshot. You kinda expect that from a guy who’s been drinking for a couple of weeks straight, but you don’t expect the grin. Manic. His teeth were right there in my face, looking for a moment like he’d sharpened them, and like I was the next meal on his list. But then his lips shut and he mutters ‘Thanks,’ before taking the drink off me and taking a long, long swallow.
‘You’re pretty famous,’ I said, ‘this whole sector knows your face.’
‘Yeah, that happens.’ Open and shut, no room for getting anything out of him that he doesn’t want to let out.
‘Something to do with your leg,’ I continued, ‘Mind if I have a look?’
He looked me right in the eyes, then sort of smirks, pulls his leg out from beneath the table, and starts hitching up his pants. Prettiest damn bit of bionics I’ve ever seen. Not even those marines we saw on Maupassant Prime had such impressive metal. All the lines were smooth and clean, the hinges and hydraulics worked without even a hiss, and the hoses were all that armoured type, you know, the real expensive stuff. It came from just above his knee all the way down to his foot, with only a little bit of the meat still attached where his calf would be. I guess that was all they could salvage. Or maybe they thought it’d look nicer that way. He flexed the steel toes and all the pistons and cables twitched and slid through the movement.
‘So how’d you get it?’ I asked, afraid he might just give me the details I already knew.
‘You’ve seen the vids.’
‘Yeah, something about xenotech, wasn’t it? But we all know that’s grox-fart.’
He leaned back, almost in a drunken slump, yawned, and let his pants slide back over the polished metal of his leg.


‘We were in the trenches, back on Palomar Tertius, watching all the time for the glow of the artillery’s tracer-fire tracking us down. It wouldn’t take them too long, they were just tracking across the trench-line, knocking out a platoon with every shot. That was the terrifying bit: every shot hit home, not a missed or ineffective shell anywhere. I’d just been made sergeant after Hille got nailed the previous day, so it was my job to make sure my boys stayed put and kept up a constant stream of fire whenever one of the traitors stuck their heads up. It would’ve been easier with some titan support, but the whole of Tertius was down to three Warlords and a half dozen Warhounds. We’d be lucky to see the shadow of one on the horizon.
‘By the fact that the pounding of the shells was working its way towards us from either side, we knew we were in the middle of the battle line. We had no idea till Rogan, a grunt, pointed it out. We all knew what that meant. Being in the middle meant that they’d shell everyone else into oblivion, then assault on all fronts, coming at us from the front and sides at the same time. Against these traitors it was better to be shelled. We’d all heard the stories about how depraved they were. Half my men, when we realised the artillery was quietening, made to run. The moment they got over the back lip of the trench, though, bolt rounds went neatly through their spines. Not even a squeak from any of them, they just dropped.
‘I’ll bet Conrad, the Commissar, would’ve liked to see that—if he hadn’t been three hundred metres to the south getting blown to pieces.
‘When the shells finally stopped their pounding, we waited. We knew the traitors were coming, and we could hear their voices booming loud across No Man’s Land, but no one wanted to stick their head up. You’ve got to appreciate that; they’re superhuman, even if they’re traitors, and there isn’t a guardsman in the entire Imperial Army could take a hit from a boltgun, and none that can match the accuracy. Not these traitors, anyway. As I said, every shell hit, and every bolter round killed.
‘When we heard them sprinting across the open ground beyond the trench, we prayed. There wasn’t much else we could do. A couple of the lads stood up to fire their lasguns and were dead before their finger had a chance to tighten on the trigger. Links had the flamer and shot a few bursts along the edge of the trench, which might’ve slowed them down if a grenade hadn’t landed at his feet a moment later.
‘I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a flameboy hit by a grenade. They explode into a fireball when the shrapnel penetrates the fuel canister, it gets spread everywhere: all over the trench, all over anyone nearby. It’s the fuel, you see. They make it sticky so that anyone hit keeps burning. When that gets poured into a trench you get a lot of dead bodies, and they don’t smell good, either. Plus it means the survivors get cramped up into a smaller space—anywhere the fuel hasn’t stuck.
‘When the traitors dropped into the trench, we all knew it was over, but we had to fight back. Nothing else to do. Our bayonets were useless, though, couldn’t penetrate the armour if we’d been twice as strong. Their chainswords hacked the rest of us apart with a single stroke. Except me. Their boss had plans for me.
‘He pointed to me with his power sword, obviously intending that we fight some kind of duel. I figured I was dead anyway, so I straightened up, drew my chainsword, and prepared to die like a Guardsman. The Emperor’d like that, I figured.
‘When he made his first move I was ready, and hurled myself back, hoping to catch the back side of the trench to spring forwards again. It’s a pretty simple trick, they teach it to all the Guards at basic training on Camus. The only problem is that by the time I got to the back of the trench I didn’t have a leg to spring back from. His arm was too quick. Right where my leg should have been, his sword had cut clean through.
‘They say that power weapons automatically sear the wound, and that it’s shock you die from, not blood loss, but that isn’t true. Not through your leg, it isn’t. The artery there’s huge, you’d need to actually hold the sword there to burn it closed. So I fell back against the wall and bled, expecting to feel that same blade come through my chest at any moment. But I didn’t. I looked up at him, and he was staring at me through those purple lenses on his helmet like he couldn’t believe that I survived a single stroke. A bit arrogant, really.
‘Then this other marine pushes past him, all sorts of nasty looking tools sticking out of his backpack and off his wrists. I recognised some of them from serving alongside the marines over on Lethe, the tools their medics carry. Other ones just looked to me like implements of torture. He knelt down over me, brushing away my sword with his hand when I tried to defend myself, and stuck a needle in my neck.’


He stops then to ask for another drink, which I gladly oblige. The story we all heard on the vids was that he’d been some sort of hero for scouting out a rear assault on a Xeno-held position. He’d lost his leg, apparently, when he got spotted, but then killed the guy that hacked his leg, and took the new leg off him. Kinda like Yarrick—if you believe that story.
He was scratching at the end of his stump of a leg when the drinks arrived, like the wound was still healing. He nailed the drink in one and I got him another, which he sipping all casual-like. Somehow he wasn’t getting too drunk, even though he’d obviously had a few.
‘You can handle your piss,’ I says.
‘There are still drugs in my system, the docs tell me,’ he replies, ‘apparently that’s why I can’t sleep and can’t get too drunk. Bit of crap to be in.’ He laughed then, and sipped his drink again.


‘I woke up later on a bench, blood everywhere: all over my fatigues, all over the table, the floor, the walls. Everywhere. At least my leg had stopped bleeding, there was a thin bandage over the stump that had meshed with the flesh there. I could see a couple of stiffs on other benches around the room with their organs hanging out and little pins sticking into them here and there. I was there a while before they came in for me. I couldn’t move except my head, they’d bound me pretty tight to the metal, so all I could do was wait.
‘That was horrible. All those bodies, all that blood, and this constant drone from all around, like there were engines in every room around me. The strangest thing was the smell, though. No reek of dead bodies or rot or anything like that. I couldn’t even smell the blood. Just flowers, like they’d coated everything in perfume. Creepy like you wouldn’t believe.
‘So when they came for me there were two of them: the traitor that took my leg, and the medic. The medic stood by while the other came over by my head and took off his helmet. His eyes had purple irises, and his skin was paler than an ice shark, especially because he had no hair, not even stubble. His lips were thin and pink, but his smile was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, even more than anything I saw when my parents took me to Hallis, the Garden World, when I was little.
‘“You’re a remarkable man, Sergeant Blake,” he said, “You’re the first I’ve ever faced that hasn’t died at a single stroke.”
‘I coughed up a bit of blood then as I tried to laugh in his face—and that’s harder than you’d think, when you’re in that place. He pulled a cloth from a pouch at his waist and wiped my mouth clean.
‘“We pride ourselves on our perfection here, you see,” he continued, “The ideal man, above any of your kind, above even your Corpse God’s lackeys—daring to call themselves marines. When I was on Terra, all those millennia ago, even then none stood before me as well as you.”
‘He was pacing around as he spoke, each footfall softened on the blood that covered the floor.
‘“Hence, you’re an enigma. You shouldn’t exist.” He paused now, before leaning over me to breath into my face—perfume again—and continue: “But you do. You, unlike the untold billions of your kind, are close to our kind of perfection. Not very close, but close enough for us to notice you.”
‘The medic stepped forward now, pulling a tray of tools with him, and interrupting.
‘“That’s why we’re going to reward you,” he slid past his comrade, pulling his tools with him, “Perfection should never be destroyed. Never. We’ll make you more perfect.”
‘I managed to wheeze a “Damn you” before he stuck another needle into my neck. This one, though, didn’t knock me out. Instead of watching from inside myself as I slipped into the black, I was slowed right down. It was like watching those old vids where the data’s been mangled and everything goes slow. Worst part was that I could still feel everything, I just couldn’t move or make a sound.
‘You haven’t felt pain till you’ve had it slowed down almost to a pause. Every moment took an hour to pass. So, when he started cutting into my leg, I felt the sawing of the blade like you wouldn’t believe. Pain isn’t just your brain telling you something’s gone wrong, it’s more than that; it’s kinda like an epiphany you shouldn’t have. Like when you realise that your officers don’t care about any of you, and that you’re just a meat shield to keep the traitors back while the artillery does its work. And that the artillery is there just to hold the line while the Navy deals with the traitors in orbit; they’re just slowing Chaos down as it works its way towards Terra; that Terra’s just an object in space holding the rotting bits of the Emperor, and that the Emperor’s not even alive.
‘Pain’s like that: you can’t imagine that the galaxy makes any sense, or that there’s any stopping the bad bits taking over like cancer.
‘The cutting was the good bit, though. Once he started drilling out my bones I was sure I’d die, so much pain clotting my head that I wished I was dead, and that even being dead going to hell’d be better. Hell can’t be that bad. By the time he’d finished all the brutal stuff I was a wreck. I’d gone mad inside my own head, even though the whole thing only probably took half an hour. But, as I said, the drug slowed that down and drew it out. It felt like I’d gone through years, almost as many as I’ve been alive.
‘Then he put the leg in place—this thing—and all the pain went away, just like that. Almost erased it from my mind; there isn’t anything that could do that properly. Anyway, the moment it touched me I was happy. Get that: happy. What’s there to be happy about? But my brain cleaned right up, like being really, really sober the morning after, no headaches or anything. Just clean.
‘“Now you’re better than you’ve ever been,” the medic said, “You’re more perfect than before. You are beautiful to us.”
‘They left then, and for the next three days I waited for that damn drug to wear off so I could sleep, or anything. It wore off a little bit, everything slowly sped up back almost to normal. But I’ve given up on waiting for that happen. No one’s gonna talk at normal speed again, no one’s gonna move as fast as they used to. Everyone but me. You can’t see it, but I can reach out and touch this glass, drain it all back, and put it back in place—and all you’ll see is the glass wobble a bit, and some of the drink trickle down my chin. But moving that quick leaves me dizzy. I guess we’re just not made for whatever drug the traitors are using.
‘Anyway, after the three days were over, they took me off the bench, gave me new fatigues, and put me on one of their transports. They took me out into the wastes and left me there. The guy that I’d fought was with me, and he said nothing the whole way there, not until we got to the edge of their territory.
‘ “Head north for half a day and you will reach your lines,” he said, his voice smoother than the Ecclesiarchy’s orators, “They know to expect you.”
‘So I got out and started walking. I didn’t get tired, and I didn’t slow down. I just walked. Must’ve been ten leagues or so before I saw the banners sticking up above the bunkers. About three hundred metres out they came out with the Colonel’s guard. They surrounded me and put me in quarantine. And now here I am, new leg, new chance to prove myself to the Emperor, but better than any of you.’


His last line he sneered. I knew he was just a grunt, but he had some kinda thinking like he was special. Then he did it: just drained his glass so quick you couldn’t’ve seen more than his hand move and hear the glass hit the table again. I don’t mind saying it scared the crap outta me.
‘You got some leg there,’ I says.
He shrugged, ‘It’s the drugs, not the leg.’
‘What’s so special ‘about the leg then?’ I asked.
He flicked the metal through his pants and it started that ringing again, but this time didn’t put no hand near it to stop it. Pretty soon, that ringing was getting into my head like those brainworms out in the wastes, and I had to get outta there. I paid the barman on the way out, leaving a few creds so Blake could keep up his drinking. If nothing else, it’d keep him from following me, I figured.
As I says, though, he only had three weeks left before they got to him. Word was they killed everyone in the bar, where they found him, then burned him up on that hill over to the east of Pozzo. One of them incendiary shells straight outta a Russ, so you can be pretty sure there wasn’t anything of him left. His leg, though, I reckon I’d bet half my rations that thing came out fine, just fine.

Stories of Lust / Recovering an old friend
« on: April 17, 2014, 10:07:38 PM »
The Space Wolf long fangs quickly moved into position. The years of simplifying the maneuver to a few well practiced steps. In the time it would take a normal human to say their name, the heavy bolters were in position. The readouts inside their helmets showed the enemy was just outside the range of the weapons waiting. To the left and right, two more squads of Long Fangs moved up, and just as quickly as they had set up their weapons. Behind them, they heard the blood claws approach, ready to launch an attack should any enemy survive the Long Fang fire. Now it was a waiting game, one the Space Wolves were well suited for.


Wolf Priest Ghorden saw the final squad indicate their readiness on his readout. The line was solid, and the flanking forces would be in position within minutes. Initial reports indicated that the opposing force was traitor guard, obviously under the influence of Chaos, their appearance was reported to be quite bestial. The advantage of weapon range and mobility would be with the Space Wolves, though numerically the traitor guard would have the advantage, if it could be called an advantage. Reports coming in indicated that the force was a light infantry regiment, with no confirmed sightings of any tank or recon sentinels. This would mean that the flanking units would have an easier time engaging the enemy as the prediction for hard defensive points was low.

But doctrine ictated that recognizance still needed to be conducted, so Ghorden ordered his two thunderhawks in to verify his Intel. A thought transmitted through his neural interface activated the icon, and the Thunderhawks banked to make their first run. Their auguries at full power, and the slaved servitors started processing the sensor information, looking for signs of the enemy.


Far above the battle, the Space Wolf ships orbit carried them around the planet, they would be out of viw of the Space Wolves on the ground for 20 minutes, the Vox satellites would keep the channels open. The Commander of the fleeet, ordered the escorts ships to a higher orbit, to provide cover for the battle barge. It hadn't been confirmed that the traitor guard were indigenous.


From a dead defensive satellite far above the surface of planets only continent, six dreadclaw drop pods broke through the facades that had been used to hide them from visual inspection, and fired their maneuvering rockets once they were clear. Driving straight for the continent below, the marines inside awoke from their self induced hibernation, a state of metabolism that did not register on the Space Wolves scans for life forms. The main drives engaging once their orientation had been confirmed, now only small changes to their path could be performed.

As they entered the atmosphere, they became the payload of tears of flame, their tails miles long, visible to all those on the surface looking to the sky.


On the continent below, the space wolves only saw circles of fire, growing larger by the moment, the fiery tails not visible from the Space Wolf positions, as they were directly in line with the path of the dreadclaws. A moment later their displays showed the traitor guard was on the move, an echelon move to the Space Wolves right. This would take the imperial Guard through the heavier forest, and out of the main avenues of approach. Ghorden ordered the wolves to sift their positions, if the Guard came through the dense forest, the bike squad and jump pack equipped Blood Claws would be useless. But still he was not ready to order them to prepare to go on foot.

A quick look to the sky and the balls of fire were much larger, his command ordered the thunderhaks to change their path to bring it into a position to scan the falling balls of fire, he needed to identify if they were debris from space, or something else.

A moment later, the message from the fleet, relayed from the Vox satellites proved his first though they were not drop pods from the Space Wolf fleet, he warned the fleet to full alert, and to make speed o provide support to the ground force. Something was happening, the wolves would be ready.


The first Dread Claw fired its breaking rockets moments before impact, slowing the vehicle to the minimum force survivable by its occupants. The legs of the dreadclaw deployed down a split second after the rockets fired, locking into position just before impact with the ground. The metal behemoths irises open in the middle, between the landing legs, and out of 9 of them jumped Purple colored warriors of the Emperor’s Children. From the 10th, a platform lowered an adimentium armored dreadnought. Each Dreadclaw's rockets had burnt a circle of earth around it, and the precision of the pilots had landed the crafts so that each circle of devastated land overlapped its cleared land. The nine dread claws with warriors had each contained six warriors; with the command vehicle contain the Lieutenant leading the mission. Fifty Five warriors of the Emperor's Children, and one Dreadnaught moved off as a single entity, heading directly for the flank of the Space Wolf lines.


Ghorden knew that this was a trap, the timing was to perfect, he still had eight minutes without fleet support. He had ordered his wolves to engage the Chaos Warriors that had fallen from the sky, ignoring the traitor guard, if he had to have someone at his back it was better to have the guard then the obvious Chaos Marines that had come down from space. His communications with the fleet had proven that the marines had been hiding somewhere in orbit, but had avoided detection. This did not bode well for their intents.

The Thunderhawks had scanned for the opposing marines, but only their Dread Claws had been identified, the occupants of the Dreadclaws were evading detection. He dispatched the scouts to try and find out where the enemy were, they were following the most direct route from the Space Wolves to the Dreadclaws, but they hadn't reported any contact as of yet.

They projected time of contact with the Traitor Guard was ten minutes, so they needed to find the chaos Marines, deal with them, and then turn to deal with the traitor guard. And based on the number of drop pods he had seen, the number of traitor marines could be as high as one hundred. The older pre-Heresy drop pods could carry ten marines, twice as many as the current drop pods.


The traitor guard came out of the woods at the Space Wolves, fully six minutes before their estimated time. They must have been trained in woodland terrain, they moved as fast through the woods as the marines were doing. The Wolves turned to engage the traitors, caught at the edge of the woods. Their training again allowing them to bring their heavy weapons to bear within a heartbeat. The lead traitor never made it out of the woods, the marine weapons catching them as soon as they exposed themselves. But they kept coming en masse, with those that followed leaping over the bodies of those that fell before them. The marines no sooner emptied a magazine into the traitor then they, with practiced ease, reloaded and continued firing.

The range closed and the traitors weapons came to effective range and they fired, but with seemingly indifference to actually hitting. But with the hundred that now were in the open, the law of statistics started to favor the traitors, and the lasgun fire started to find weaknesses in the marines armor. Two marines went down, lasgun shots penetrating the joints in their armor. But it was to late for the traitor guard, their numbers thinned, they broke and ran back into the woods with the marines fire dropping more with shots to the back.

It was then that the dreadnaught burst through the woods, the first warning of its presence was a tree falling. But the marines didn't hear the tree fall, they only saw the dreadnaught.


Ghorden's mind reeled at the sight of the dreadnaught, his senses were betraying him, he saw it, but didn't hear it, and is armor's sensors were not indicating it was there. He ordered the heavy weapons teams with the missile launcher to engage the dread, though his mind still did not believe his eyes.

The team continued to fire at the retreating guard while the missile gunner targeted the dreadnaught. The missile streaked past the dreadnaught and impacted a tree just behind the dreadnaught, and with the explosion the marines senses went wild. Their armor's sensors displaying a force of marines almost surrounding them, their sense of smell detecting the marines, and their hearing locating each marine around them. And through the air, flew three bodies tied together with strange metals. One had their eyes removed and their eye sockets filled with the metal, another had the metal driven into their head where their ears should be, and the last had a spike of metal driven into its skull where its nose should be. Ghorden knew sorcery when he saw it, but the meaning of the bodies was still a mystery, but his training and the training of his men took over, but it wasn't quick enough, the traitor marines had had more then enough time, and they used it wisely.

The dreadnaugh'ts plasma cannon fired into the thickest concentration of Space Wolves, instantly vaporizing the marines it touched. The other marines, their armor a deep purple, fired their strange looking guns. And out of those weapons flew not bolts or missiles, but concentrated sound waves. The Wolves touched by the sonic energies shook and then fell to the ground. A smaller number of shorter weapons that the traitor guard then fired, their sonic waves blasting their targets to atoms in mere heart beats, surfaces touched peeled away molecule by molecule, until the wave then passed on.

Ghorden and his men, returned fire, each picking a target for their bolters, and many of the bolts found their mark, cracking traitor armor and exposing them to the might of the emperor. The marines were reacting quickly, but the traitor guard had their own agenda, and charged the Wolves. Ghorden saw a leader, and readied himself for the assault. But as the purple armored warriors closed the distance something clouded his mind, slowing his reaction time, and the charging traitor used this to his advantage, striking at Ghorden in his confused state. Ghorden's mind was still reeling from the warp screaming in his head when his body registered the traitors power sword had penetrated his defense, and driven straight through his chest, ignoring the emperor's Amulet, he knew he was dead even as he fell to the ground, his eyes registering the fight going on all around him.


The Emperor's Children walked amongst the dead, their sorcerers invisibility had been destroyed by an unlucky missile from the Space Wolves. Lieutenant Barry looked around at the dead wolves, inspecting each before they carried the bodies to be laid in a line. Barry knew that the marines would have sent scouts out, and they needed to be found. Gr'th the commander of the 4th Cohort of the Emperor's Children, what the Space Wolves had called the traitor guard, was collecting the weapons of the wolves and distributing it to the larger of his troops. They were beast men, Homo Sapiens Varius, and dedicated to Slaanesh.

A braying was heard in the distance, and Barry looked at Gr'th.

"The wolves come," was Gr'th's answer to the inquisitive look. Barry and Gr'th turned and walked into the dense woods opposite the direction of the sound. Barry looked to see the position of the dread, it was almost to the target destination, escorted by six of the sonic armed warriors. As he passed each of the bodies, Barry placed a fragmentation grenade below the dead marine's necks. The Emperor's Children dead were no where to be seen, they had been buried once their geneseed had been removed, but they would not be found easily, and if they were a melta bomb had been placed with the body.

"Do we coninue to the objective, or do we stand here?" Gr'th's whispered question carried a second question.

"We continue to the objective, the marines do not matter."

"Then why did we ambush them, and then line up the bodies?"

"For the sport of it. The Lord Commander demanded a sacrifice for Slaanesh," was Barry's answer. But Gr'th's mind wondered who the sacrifice was, he had lost 200 troops today, and the Wolves had lost 20. What was the sacrifice that had been demanded, he still had 300 soldiers, and the loss of men didn't worry him, but he would like to know, to better serve Slaanesh.

Behind the two the fragmentation grenades detonated destroying the dead wolf’s throat and upper chest area. This was a symbolic gesture by Barry, he had destroyed the Wolves geneseed. Those, whose geneseed wasn't destroyed in the blast, would quickly be rendered useless as it was exposed to the elements. That is twenty sets of geneseed the Wolves would never see. A smile graced the Lieutenant’s face, he enjoyed this.


The scout walked into the opening where the fight had been waged, their revulsion was evident. The headless bodies were arrayed in a straight line, a plume of gore spreading out from the top of their chest cavities. Who ever had done this had taken the marines weapons, and drawn crude marks on their armor. This was desecration of the worst kind.

The scout leader activated his command link, indicating he was now the senior wolf on the ground. His vox communicator chimed almost immediately, the fleet was directly above, maintaining a stationary position above them. And the thunderhawks indicated they were tracing a Dreadnaugh'ts progress as it cut a swath through the woods.

While Thrace and his scouts had melta weapons and melta bombs, enough to handle the dread from a range, he knew it was suicide for them to engage the dreadnaught. With a thought and a twist he indicated the Thunderhawks should engage the Dreadnaught, and any troops near it. The signal he sent indicated that they were free to use any force to avenge their brothers.

His request to the fleet was for support and orders.


The Thunderhawks dove on chaos troops, as it closed in missiles disengaged from their wig pods, streaking down through the atmosphere towards their targets. Before the missiles impacted, the Thuderhawks fired their spine mounted battle cannons. The impact of the streaking missiles was momentarily blinding before the battle cannon shells hit and even the explosions of the missiles were engulfed in the super heated cloud of their explosions. The augers of the Thunderhawks couldn't detect anything through the expanding gas of the explosions, so they banked away scanning for other targets.


Lt. Barry's readout displayed the Dreadnaught ad the six escorts had stopped responding to authentication signals, they were gone, though they had not reported any contact with enemy, this did not bode well for the mission. He still had twenty marines of the Emperor's Children, enough to do most anything.

He adjusted teh planned route to avoid the area where the dreadnaught and the troops had been killed. There was still five hours for him to accomplish his mission more then enough.


The enemy had not been trying to hide their trail and Trace and his men had been at a full run for the last two hours. At this rate they would have caught lesser men, so it was obvious that they were hunting marine’s experienced in woodland tactics. There were tracks of booted and hoofed feet along with those of the marines, the traitor guard were working with the marines. But the Hoofed feet didn't make sense; they were two legged and weighed almost as much as a marine, pack beasts perhaps. Their tracks had joined the marines along the trail, perhaps the traitors had hidden them. But then that would seem to indicate that the ambush wasn’t their main purpose, if that was true, what was their purpose. The Dreadclaws could have landed closer to their objective. The Thunderhawks had returned to the fleet to be refueled, they had proved ineffective in finding the enemy.

Thrace knew that no more wolves would be dropping to the surface; the Wolf Priest's forces had been all that was left of the ground troops that had left the fang. Five years of war had dwindled their numbers to just what had landed on this planet, and they had been heading back to Fang to be reassigned when the Inquisitorial request had come in. Though the wolves first instinct had been to ignore the request, the indication that sorcery was involved had lead the Wolf Priest to believe that he hated sons of Magnus might be present, so they responded their acquiescence to supply aid.

Upon planet fall they had found a chaos cult on the world, Petoris II. A world with almost no Imperial inhabitants. The Inquisitor had been determining its status for re-colonization, having been subject to exterminus five thousand years ago, the eco-system of the world having restored itself, erasing any presence of the pervious inhabitants.

The Inquisitor had said that the current inhabitants were the descendants of an imperial survey team sent close to three hundred years ago, their navigator died upon entering the system.


The Emperor's Children entered the clearing with an hour and a half left on their timetable. In the center of the clearing was a large circle of stone, raised thousands of years earlier to the same master the Emperor's Children served. The stone circle was composed of six perfect pieces, each interlocking seamlessly to create the circle. The only way to identify the six pieces was by the type of stone, each was very different, most were not from this planet, and one very important one wasn't even of this realm of existence.

With a nod the remaining traitor guard moved to surround the stone, each equidistant from each other, forming an almost perfect circle, with only one imperfection, on missing position. Once in position, they started chanting in low litanies, their bestial throats seemed to be perfectly suited for the chant. Their chant had an almost instantaneous effect; the air over the stones was shimmering in a dizzying myriad of colors.

Within a minute the stones shattered to dust and revealed a pit beneath them, with a set of obsidian stones leading down from the break in the beast man circle. Lt. Barry stepped through the circle of guard and proceeded down the stairs, quickly disappearing into the artificial gloom of the pit. Above, the guard continued their chant, while the Emperor's Children marines faded into the woods, waiting for the Lt and any Wolves who may attempt to interfere.


Thrace heard the chanting long before a mortal would have been able to discerned any sound. The immediately spread out to avoid an ambush, senses at the altert, weapons ready. Thrace sent a message to the fleet that he would need Thunderhawk support, and possible orbital fire support. His neural message also changed the Wolves path to circle around the source of the chanting, to approach indirectly, no sense of following the enemy marines directly into a trap.


Traitor Guard were dieing quickly to the Wolves weapons. Each shot that rang out saw a traitor guard fall. Several times a melta charge reached out from the woods and a Traitor ceased to exist. But the guard never moved from their positions, their chanting never wavering. After the first clips of their weapons were empty, close to one hundred traitors were dead, still as many stood in their positions around the circle in the ground. Thrace ordered the Wolf Scouts to assault the guard, to conserve their ammunition. They ran forward and cut down the beast men with wild abandon, but still the guard did not move, they died with chants in their throats.

Thrace looked at the hole in the ground and the over two hundred dead guard around that died around it. Not one had moved, not one had stopped its chanting to even show a gleam of recognition. The ground around the hole was laden with the blood of the dead and more was joining it, leaking from the bodies of the dead. So much blood was running that it spilled over the lip and down onto the obsidian walls of pit and running down the black stairs.

Thrace pulled a signal grenade from his belt, set a two second delay and dropped it into the hole watching it disappear into the darkness, quickly loosing sight of it. After the delay he saw no sign of flare activating, the blackness of the pit swallowing up the flare and its signal.

The augers and senses of the Wolves could find no sign of the marines who had traveled with the bestial guard, and the tracks of the marines that lead into the woods quickly disappeared. Was there an undetectable fleet above to teleport the traitor marines away, were they that adept at woodcraft that they could avoid the wolves detection? Again, the Wolf scout leader had deep concerns, and with the Thunderhawk support being minutes away he thought that the worse was coming, his senses telling he to move his troops to the woods.

His order to fall back and take a defensive stance was freshly issued when out of the woods stepped Inquisitor Creetz and his retinue. The wolves brought weapons to beer, and the inquisitor and his retinue quickly the same. Creetz held up his hand, and his retinue lowered their weapons. "Sergeant Thrace isn't it? Well, I see my faith in the Wolves was well placed, you have tracked down the source of these problems."

"And what would that be Lord Inquisitor?"

"Ah a Prince of Chaos who avoided destruction so many thousands of years ago. He was a Lt. Commander of the Emperor's Children who reached daemon hood at the cost of millions of the inhabitants of this planet. The forces that are here are attempting to liberate him from his prison, I am sure they found him the same way I did, by the psychic call emanating from his resting place on this planet."

"If they heard the same call as you, how did they know where to find him while you did not?"

"Why the Homo Sapiens Varius of course, they have been here for moths searching for the tomb. Those guard you killed have been searching for some time. I knew they were here, though I did not know that the Emperor's Children had the patience to wait these many months hiding above the planet, which was a bit of a surprise to me. But before you ask me any more questions, I suggest you drop as many melta bombs you may have into that tomb, and you plant charges around the circumference and attempt to collapse it."

Thrace was no happy with the Lord Inquisitors tone, but with a nod the marines moved start preparing their demolition. As the first of the charges were being dropped over the lip of the pit, the marine preparing the charge leaped back from the pit moments before a sinuous whip snapped through the place where their neck had been moments before. The rest of the wolves stopped their tasks, and readied their weapons as a gigantic form leapt from the pit landing behind the marines.

Its form towered above the marines. In it's right hand it wielded by what would have been large for a marine a gigantic obsidian headed halberd, with bells that rang sensuously lilting music. The armor of the left arm had mutated into a larger shield with a terrible fleshy whip growing from the shield. Its head was a terrible parody of the bestial heads of the dead guard laying about the pit, bestial and bull like, with large downward pointing downward. From his back grew massive wings, that stretch farther then the monstrosity was tall. From its back stretched lines of vile fluid that seemed to pierce the armor and drive towards the beasts heart. All this was taken in the time it took the beast to leap over the marines head and land on the ground.

The marine’s reaction time was super human, and already they were tracking and firing at the monstrosity by the time its weight had settled on the ground, but the rounds seemed to be deflected by a demonic aura, and those that pierced the aura were deflected by the daemonic armor it wore. As the last of their rounds sped from their bolters, the marines were reloading, for many of them this was their last magazine, their minds already reading themselves to charge with the last of their rounds.

A combat servitor in the Inquisitors retinue activated a psycannon it wielded, the rounds traveling through the material realm as well as the warp, their left trails of insane glimpses into the warp. There was not snap of the bullets as they broke the sound barrior instead there was insane screams from the rents in space. Each round slipped past the daemon's aura as easily as they tore through the barriers between the real and the warp. But each round was stopped by the armor of the favored of Chaos.

The inquisitor leapt forward, unlimbering a Daemon Hammer from his back in a practiced motion, charging towards the daemon. But the daemon was faster, it was his charge that carried toward it to the Inquisitor, and in its furious charge had gained momentum and the initiative, the drugs pumping directly into his heart increasing his strength. The Daemonic Prince was a force comparable with that of a Demolisher cannon, its daemonic strength augmented to the point that when the blade struck the inquisitor it instantly killed him, shredding the Inquisitor to pieces, with the inquisitors charge carrying the pieces of his body to impact the daemon showering it in Gore. The servitors devoid of their guiding mind seemed to turn off, the wolves taken aback by the death of the Inquisitor paused a heart beat.


Deep in space the Wolves fleet detected a ship, alarms screaming into being, weapons traversing to aim at the new arrival, the fleet changing directions to bring the side batteries to bare. But a quick identification signal identified the newly discovered ship as an Inquisitorial ship. A moment later, the wolves fleet detected a massive power surge, that matched the warp signature of a teleportation pad activating.

And just as quickly, the Inquisitional battle barge faded from the sensors of the Wolves, but a momentary blip indicating that it had not left.


The wolves had charged as they fired the last of their rounds, with their training and true grit they fired the unwieldy bolters with one hand, while they drew their combat weapons with their other. Their charge carrying them past a shimmering vale, and the materializing forms of Five grey Knights. This time the daemon prince did not have the advantage of charging as the suppressive fire of the Wolves kept him off balance. The wolves attack lacked the punch of a power weapon to pierce the armor with ease; instead they would have to use skill to pierce the armor as well as the daemons defenses. Several times the wolves were sure they wounded the prince, but each time it seemed that vile liquids would leak from the wounds and seem to seal the wound.

The Daemon Prince was shielded from the Grey Knight weapons by the attacking wolves, so the Grey Knights moved to assault the Daemon Prince, and as they moved they saw all the hoses feeding the prince pump a greenish liquid and the prince seemed to move even faster. The Grey Knights knew that the warp spawns warp scream was slowing the wolves, and distracting them. And with a vicious set of attacks by the whip and dark bladed hell glaive, all but one of the wolves were separated to pieces, leaving the sergeant as the only member still fighting the prince, and even then, the Grey Knights could not bring themselves to fire into the melee, so with a prayer to the emperor, they charged, their sacred Nemesis weapons and their faith dedicated to destroying the chaos spawn.


The prince knew that his life was on the line. Fighting marines was child’s play, but the warriors he now faced knew his tricks, and were well prepared to fight him, and he had been trapped in his pit for so long.


The Grey Knights attacked as a well practiced machine, they fought as one, each attack was meant to draw the enemy into making an opening to be exploited by another. They were trained for just this, and in their past had destroyed many warp spawn. Their armor and weapons were the bane of the warp, and their prayers were as distracting to the warp creature as his warp screams to them.

The fight quickly turned against the daemon prince, his combat drugs, and regeneration fluids cold not stop the stem of wounds that were be inflicted by the Grey Knights. The battle dragged on, and no more marines had fallen. They had now cornered the daemon prince, and surrounded it, only his flesh whip had prevented those behind him from the freedom of attacking with impunity.


Lt. Barry watched from the top of the steps enjoying the Daemon Prince's situation, relishing in the realizations the prince would be facing, true death after thousands of years of isolation.

Finally as the prince's reserves were drained, and the Grey Knights were setting up the prince for the final round of battles, Lt. Barry signaled his men. They moved to assault, and Lt. Barry held aloft a box covered in the skinned faces of his six most potent opponents, he channeled the warp, fighting past the resistance of the Grey Knights presence, and reached out, connecting the warp to the Brother Captain of the Grey Knights, who in a flash of reality was gifted with spawndom, his form exploding into a multitude of shapes and limbs pleasing to Slaanesh. And his troops engaged the Grey Knight marines, relieving the daemon prince.

As he watched the Grey Knights cut down the Emperor’s Children, some bewitching of theirs dulling the Emperor's Children, slowing their assault. But the distraction was enough to allow the Daemon Prince to cut down some of their numbers. Soon there were only five Emperor's Children, the Daemon Prince, Lt Barry facing one Grey Knight and the Wolf Scout Sergeant Thrace. In a flash, Thrace and the Grey Knight accounted for an Emperor's Children each, while the Daemon Prince's weapon feasted upon the Grey Knight.

Stepping in from the rear, Barry lashed out with his power weapon, cutting through the back of Thrace's legs, seperating muscle from bone, and casing Thrace to fall backwards. With a twist and a flash, Thrace's hands had been removed by the power weapon. The daemon prince moved to strike, but a raised hand from Barry held his hand.

"There are six alive, and time has elapsed. Slaanesh has shown us that this is the last." Barry looked at the fallen Thrace, attempting to use the stumps of his hands to pick a melta bomb from the ground. From Barry’s armor a needle like weapon extended, and Thrace knew what it was, an Apothicarian tool for extracting geneseed.

Barry moved to each of the dead marines, extracting their geneseed. Starting with the Grey Knights, two precision thrusts pulled the pair of organs from their bodies, and storing them in receptacles deep within his armor. As the organs were removed, the other Emperor's Children, threw the bodies into the still looming pit, only recovering the Emperor's Children weapons before throwing their bodies in after the loyalists.

"The Grey Knights will mostly likely target this position from orbit, I would suggest you get your fleet to recover you. I don't believe they will bomb the entire continent, so you should be able to recover the bodies of your fellows." With a twitch a vial was ejected from the arm of Lt Barry, "Here is the geneseed of your Rune Priest; I give this to you as a present for your spirit. The rest I keep."

Stories of Lust / Big Game Hunt
« on: April 17, 2014, 10:07:09 PM »
Palidius VI was a thrice damned planet.
Six months ago the Imperium had left with the planetary tithe of Imperial guard. And this time they had taken more men then any of the previous drafts. They claimed a Black Crusade was coming, and needed more men. Seventy five percent of the men between the ages of 14 and 30 were taken. The men who were fathers were excluded. Almost all of the doctors and nurses were taken. Skeleton staffs were left. Students of medicine, and there teachers were left. The factories were now staffed by women. No hardship cases were accepted. Those physically not capable of serving the Imperial Guard were turned over to the adeptus mechanicus to become servitors. There was no compassion in the drafting process. Fathers were left only so they may raise the next generation of Palidius’s population.

The defenses were manned by those left. Only ten percent of the forces needed to man the planetary defenses, far below the Imperial Edict on staffing. Many of the priority Ultra defenses were unmanned. With only three percent of the airspace covered it had been child’s play for the invading force to land unseen. The cities were under siege before they even knew there was anyone on the planet. There was no battle, only a massacre on a planetary scale.

Lord Commander Bowman stood upon bluff 247 overlooking the capital city of Palidium. The surviving population of the city was in a complete rout. Behind them the forces of Chaos were slaughtering all before them. Women and children were butchered alongside the men.

But the Lord Commander was not here for the population, though a few thousand would find their way to his personal slave ship. He was after the chaos forces who were hunting the civilians. They were World Eaters, puppets of Khorne. While they were the sworn enemy of the Emperor’s Children, the reason they hunted them today was completely different.

* * * *

The first waves of the population reached the top of the berm. They stopped when they saw what was waiting for them, but the throng of people behind them pushed them forward, right into the Emperor’s Children. Some where herded into slave ships, the rest were allowed to pass.

The mass of Emperor’s Children stood in perfect lines, their servitors and bound slaves did the herding. Some kneeled listening, others swayed to an internal symphony, and some arched their backs as in pain or exquisite pleasure. But all stood in perfectly straight lines. Those whose units were assigned a rhino stood next to them, even the throng of humanity did not waiver the legion’s perfection.

* * * *

Then upon the signal from the Lord Commander, the forces mounted up. Those who were not assigned a vehicle started walking forward. The mass of humanity had thinned. The air was heavy with the screams of those being killed by the forces of the World Eaters. The Emperor’s Children stopped on the military crest of the berm. The pause was but momentary, but when they stepped to the top, they fired their weapons. The squads without rhino support were composed of Noise Marines, a subcult of Slaanesh. They had developed blistering sonic weapons; those weapons were now tearing through the world Eater forces. The sonic weapons were set to ossilate. Anything within the blast range was torn apart. The Lord Commander felt for those civilians being torn apart by the powerful weapons, they would never know the pleasures he could show them. But the front row of World Eaters had ceased to exist.

* * * *

The Noise Marines shifted their fire, ignoring a small knot of world eaters in the middle. The World Eater Lord and his retinue were spared. But they didn’t shed a thought to why, they were charging along with the rest of their force. The World Eaters were closing the distance with incredible speed, and they were still striking out and killing all within their reach. But this had been planned for.

The Rhinos of the Emperor’s Children raced through their lines as they topped the berm. They drove straight through the massed humanity towards the enemy. The warp amps that were mounted on some of them, were powering up. The effect on the humans was incredible, many of them turned and fled back into the World Eaters. The World Eater’s charge never faltered, they ran directly at the closest Rhinos.

The Emperor’s Children avoided the World Eater’s Lord. Only the Lord’s Land Raider and one rhino drove straight for them. The Land Raider’s occupants unloaded directly into combat with the World Eaters and his retinue. The fighting was brutal; the mindlessness of the World Eaters was matched by the grace of the Emperor’s Children. Soon only the World Eater’s Lord and one of his chosen stood against the Emperor’s Children Lord. Both of their retinues had been killed. Now the rhino that had accompanied Lord Commander Bowman divulged its cargo of an apothciarian, a sorcerer and his retinue. They stepped up behind the Lord Commander. The World Eaters didn’t notice them; they were focused on killing the hated champion of Slaanesh.

* * * *

The Lord Commander’s backhand swing took the head from the World Eater’s Lord, a howl of rage still issued from the spinning decapitated head as it realized that its blood would not go to Khorne. The last chosen of the retinue screamed, and his body bulged. He had been consecrated to Khorne, a vessel for a Blood Thirster to enter this world. The rage he had felt at the death of his lord overwhelmed the chains that bound him, and the Blood Thirster stepped through his body into the material world.

Now the sorcerer’s retinue stepped forward to confront the might warrior of Khorne. With one swipe of its mighty axe, the six chosen of Slaanesh were cut in two, their souls sent to Khorne. The Blood Thirster’s axe arm went limp, the six had been anointed by Slaanesh, their souls were filled with the pleasure of death which were not meant for Khorne. The Blood Thirster raged, his whip coming around to strike at the 3 Emperor’s Children standing before him. But this arm too went numb, and then his legs gave out; he had been poisoned by the souls he had stolen. The apothicarian struck out with a large needle like weapon, driving it deep into the beast’s chest. The Blood Thirster became as still as a statue, even the hair along its body did not move in the wind.

The lord commander looked at the two servants of Slaanesh standing with him, and then looked out upon the battle field. “I will oversea the taking of the field, you prepare this vile beast for the trip.” His Land Raider stood there, and he entered the leviathan.

The apothicarian depressed a stud upon his arm, indicating that the prize was theirs. The Tech Priest Alsal would bring the specially prepared conveyance to him, and they would move the Blood Thirster to the waiting Thunderhawks. “Your part in all of this is not over my fiend of Khorne, you will still get to kill many, but you will do it as we need, and your service to Slaanesh will not be forgotten.” And with those words, the servitors loaded the Blood Thirster upon the back of a specially prepared Rhino, and drove it to the Lord’s Thunderhawk.

* * * *

It was two more hours before the Lord Commander returned. His suit was covered with the gore of countless World Eaters. Following him were one thousand slaves. And driving besides him was his Land Raider.

The Lord Commander knew that Slaanesh was pleased, and that he was following Slaanesh’s grand plan. He only hoped that Slaanesh would deem him fit to rebuild the Emperor’s Children, if not he would enjoy the work.

* * * *

Four weeks later the Ultramarines under the command of Commander Naceron, and under the provisional authority of Inquisitor Barry, arrived on Palidius VI. Half of the major cities were now only inhabited by ghosts. Of Palidium there was a mystery, the other cities had killing fields that were dozens of miles long. Bodies spread out from the cities like a blood splatter from a blunt instrument. But they could not find more than half of the bodies that should have littered the killing fields of Palidium. The early reports showed that the invasion had been by World Eaters but it wasn’t their pattern to take survivors.

It was early the next morning when the Ultramarines found their answer. In the fanning gore fields radiating from Palidium, there was an irregularity, a large section of the killing fields were barren of bodies. When the Inquisitor and Commander went to the field, they found their answer, the World Eaters in that area were dead, and they could not have continued their massacre.

“It looks like they met the Emperor’s grace,” Naceron issued proudly. “They were slaughtered like those they chased.”

The inquisitor was not so sure. “If that is so, then by whom commander? No call for help went out; no bodies other than the World Eaters littered this field. Who did this? Where did the inhabitants go?” His eyes followed the rhino tracks as they lead into the distance. “The tracks end at the base of the cliff.”

Looking down, the inquisitor saw an item partially buried under a dead World Eater. A portion of an Emperor’s Children shoulder pad and shoulder had been separated for its owner. He picked it up and showed it to the Ultramarine commander. “This does not bode well for the Imperium commander.”

A marine standing near the commander spoke up, “Why is that Lord Inquisitor?”

“Because neither force destroyed the remaining cities, they both left,” the inquisitor spoke with finality. “Burn the fields, contact the head of the planetary government, the factories must be reopened.”


“Commander we have reentered real space.”

“Very well navigator. Helm set course for Cefelon II, Astropath contact Cefelon’s defense net, sensors scan for enemies.” Commander Salius knew that his orders were already being followed, but his training required he issue them each time the re-entered real space. He was commander of Deliverance, a battle barge in the service of the Ordo Malleus. Their mission was to stop at Cefelon, and deliver the Grey Knight’s secret cargo.

Captain Fergus of the 235th Grey Knight Company walked up and stood next to him. As usual at this time of day, Fergus had come directly from the morning ceremonies and was wearing his duty uniform.

“Captain Fergus, we will be on Cefelon in sixteen hours.”

“Very good commander, once the cargo is in on Cefelon, I will feel much better. The Emperor’s Tarot has shown a great danger for this mission, but now we are almost done, I feel relieved.”

* * * *

The impact vibrations were muted but they could feel them.

“Sensors, what was that,” Demanded Salius. The commander knew that collision with space debris was to be expected, but it was not something that one ignored.

“No contact sir, but the shields are now up.”

“Very good, get some servitors out there to determine what hit us. And I want an assement of the damages in 1 minute.”

The sudden noise of the klaxon surprised everyone and had caused Captain Fergus to jump.

“Commander there are multiple hull breaches, level 15 forward 6, 7, and 8. Level 24 aft 27, 28. Level 25 aft 27. Pressure doors closed,” droned a monitoring servitor.

Fergus’ question was even toned. “What hit us commander?”

“We don’t know yet Captain Fergus, but the damage seems deep, but localized,” was Salius’ response.

The Grey Knight commander turned to leave, “I will ready my men, have yours prepared.”

* * * *

The three dread claw assault pods had been floating in space for three days, waiting for the ship that was predicted to return to reality at this location. As foreseen, it arrived exactly where the portents had indicated Within moments of the target ship’s entry into the material, the dread claws’ engines had fired, hurtling toward the marine battle barge. The first few moments after the transition from the Warp to real space ships were blind, their sensors useless.

In two of the chaos boarding ships rode space marines of the Emperor’s Children Legion and a passenger. In the third was a present the Emperor’s Children had prepared for the Grey Knights, something Lord Commander Bowman thought they might enjoy.

* * * *

As the dread claw’s boarding pincers pierced the hull of the battle barge, they fired their retro-rockets to slow their impact. The velocity was slowed only minimally to protect the occupants while still driving their boarding pincers deep into the hull, securing them to the side of the imperial ship.

The third dread claw never fired the retro-rockets; it used its momentum to burrow itself deep in vile imperial ship. The point of impact was planned to deliver the cargo where it would have the greatest impact. The destination was to be a large gallery used for military drilling, but the dread claws momentum had carried it through the gallery and into a ships armory.

Around the entry wounds created by the dread claws, the ships crew died as they were exposed to the vacuum of space. The chaos ships fired massive lasers designed to clear debris from the boarding hatches, and eliminate any unfortunates nearby. A moment of intense discharge and the sphincters at the end of each vehicle opened, releasing the occupants upon the unsuspecting crew.

From the first two pods, emerged 18 Emperor’s Children in terminator armor and one Sorcerer of the Thousands Sons. They came out shooting, the ships crew was already responding to the boarding, their training allowing them to react to the danger. But in turn each group was mowed down. The terminators marched inexorably towards their destination.

From the third pod emerged the most talented killer of Khorne, a bloodthirster. The rage it felt for being a captive of Slaanesh was unleashed, it was oblivion incarnate, an unstoppable force bent on destroying all it could reach. As it hacked its way out of the armory, it ran into Grey Knights running to arm themselves. The marines never had any chance. The bloodthirster knew that the one that had captured it was near, and its path was to destroy him.

* * * *

The boarding claxon was sounding in the bridge. The ship had gone from post warp preparations to counter boarding actions. The commander had not issued a command, and he knew that the ship was reacting as trained.

“Sensors, what do we have aboard,” was the commanders only statement.

“Servitors show two boarding locations, three dread claw class boarding ships,” was the faceless answer issued from a mechanical voice of a communication servitor.

“Scan the area for ships, proceed on course,” the commander paused. Something was wrong, but what he couldn’t tell. A feeling of dread had crept into him. “Contact Cefelon and warn them we have been boarded. Warn them the enemies are the fallen.”

* * * *

The captain of the Grey Knights had sense the bloodthirster the moment it had left the dread claw. The boarding ship had been shielded to prevent the daemon from moving, and from psykers from sensing the daemon.

He could sense the Fiend of Khorne on the ship. The waves of energy emanating from it were simply hateful. But in those psychic waves he could feel the murderer of Khorne was searching for something, or some one it truly hated. That was unusual for a minion of Khorne, hatred was alien to them. He sent a mental command to the teleport servitor, and a split second later he was standing on the command teleport pad. Nine marines were in the chamber, five in Terminator armor and 4 standing in their dress uniforms.

“What is the status,” inquired Fergus.

“Amory one is destroyed. Squad Invictus is gone. A bloodthirster is aboard the ship, how it got here we do not know as of yet. We have only honor guard in armor right now. The unit was in morning prayer.” Lieutenant Bale was reading the status from a data slate. “There are two boarding actions. The second boarding action is by marines in terminator armor, chapter unknown at this time.” As he spoke, Bale and the other marines were donning their terminator armor.

“Squads Purius and Honourus are to hold the invaders; we will deal with the Rage of Khorne. Have the rest of the squads encircle the beast. What is near the invaders?” Fergus was intimately familiar with the ship, but the memory core of the ship would be projecting possible attack points.

“It shows they are most like to head towards engine room four. Aproximate time in route, 15 minutes, with the most likely path is through Apothicary Room 7.” Bale was armored now; the dressing servitors had finished their job, and were now dressing Fergus.

“Genestore 1 is in Apothicary 7. Signal all units to Apothicary 7.” Fergus stepped to the teleport platform; the sacred engravings were now glowing. “We will need to stop the child spawn of Khorne.”

* * * *

The Lord Commander stepped into Apothicary 7, and stared at the huge steel doors that separated him from his prize. His eyes aglow, he nodded slowly. Tech priest Bechala twitched as the mechandrites extruded from his body and reached towards the control panel. The sparked as they made contact.

“Lord Commander, the dogs are upon us.”

The massive chaos lord looked to the passenger that had ridden with them. “Sorcerer of Tzeentch now is your time to earn your fee.”

Rtch’ Cla smiled at his erstwhile allies and as he held his hand aloft, started to chant.

Bowman sat heavily on a table, his weight easily supported on the surgical platform. “You have 2 minutes Bechala. The rest take up positions.” And the lord commander sang.

* * * *

The squads of Grey Knights were proceeding down the corridors with a practiced efficiency. They were moving up from the engine room to the Apothicary, prepared to engage the boarders.

It was at D corridor they met the first resistance. Packs of daemons were running through the ship. Daemons of Tzeentch were assaulting the crew in a haphazard fashion. But the guns of the crew had no effect upon them. The marine’s well practiced bolter drills cut down the daemons. They marines kept moving forward at a practiced pace, maintaining their over watch drills.

But quickly the marines realized the number of daemons was increasing. The constant pressure of daemons had the crew on the retreat, and had stalled the marines advance. Their initiative had stalled, and they had taken up a defensive position.

They quickly signaled that the imitative had failed, and that a flanking movement was needed. Two more squads signaled they were ready and heading to the Apothicary by a different route.

* * * *

The steel door opened on silent hinges, a slight sound of a pressurized environment expelling into the room was the only sound.

Inside were 40 containers of genetic gold, the geneseed of twenty fallen warriors of the Grey Knight chapter. This was the prize, what the fighting had been for, the task Slaanesh had set before him.

Lord Commander Bowman stood up, and walked to the door as his retinue collected the containers. The sound of bolter fire had grown closer over the last few minutes.

“Growing tired sorcerer? Or has Tzeentch run out of daemons?”

Beads of sweat were rolling off of Rtch’ Cla’s face. His skin was slick with effort. “The Grey Knights have strong wards Lord Commander; it has taken much to summon what I have.”

“Very good, we are leaving now. Give them something to play with as we leave.”

“Uhhhg that should hold them, I am spent. We must leave now.”

A terminator stepped forward, “All vials are accounted for, and secured my Lord.”

“Very good, make for the ships. Thank you Rtch’ Cla, your service is done.”

As the Terminators stepped out of the room, Rtch’ Cla’s form faded, leaving the Emperor’s children to their own. Outside the daemons of Tzeentch were flittering down the corridor. They were scouring the path to the boarding ships.

“As the Tzeentch sorcerer said my lord. The forces of the false emperor could do nothing.”

“They have their hands full.” His laughter filled the corridor.

* * * *

The Blood Thirster was raging through the corridors. The Grey Knight terminators were hard pressed to keep up with it. They had tried to engage it, but it had ignored them. It kept charging down the corridor striking out at anything that came within reach. The Grey Knights were nothing before it, the one it wanted was ahead, close. The hate it felt was boundless, and would only be sated upon the death of the servant of the enemy.

* * * *

The lord commander was the last to enter the boarding ship, all had gone well. Only one thing was left.

He stood waiting in the breach. His laughter filled him. He should have left, but the pleasure he was gaining from waiting was to good to pass up.

* * * *

The bulkhead gave way, and the Killer of Khorne stepped into the devastated area before the two boarding vehicles. The champion of Slaanesh stood before him, laughing.

The bloodthirster gave a massive bellow of rage. The sound was deafening and killed many of the crew that heard it. But the lord continued laughing, and the child of Khorne charged.

But the Lord wasn’t to die today. He depressed the emergency release button. And within an instant the door irised closed, the boarding spike retracted, and the separating engines fired.

The bloodthirster howled as the prey escaped.

The ten Grey Knight terminators entered the room to see the bloodthirster howling into the void left by the departing boarding ship. The cold vacuum of space had sucked the air and debris through the rent, and the minion of Khorne had prevented itself from being sucked into space by driving the massive axe it carried into the deck of the ship. The warriors of the emperor quickly moved to circle the beast, their nemesis weapons dully humming in their hands. The Master of Rage turned to the Grey Knights and battle was joined. They Grey Knights were now fighting for their lives.

• * * *
The Lord Commander stepped into the ill lit room through the dangling curtain of flesh. He wore no armor, and carried no weapons. The sleeves of his long flowing robe concealed the large box he carried in his hands.

“Good morning Lord Commander.” A thin voice welcomed the lord commander.

“Good morning Fabius, I have brought my side of the trade, do you have your side ready?”

“Ahh commander, still direct after all these years. Yes, my side of the deal is ready, but first let me see the seeds of the Grey Knights.. I have great plans for them.”

The Lord Commander placed the box on the table next to Fabius Bile, and took a seat in the chair provided for him. Fabius was one to take his own time, he would have to wait for his side of the deal. But it would be worth the cost.

Using the 29th Great Company in Warhammer 40,000

A copy of Chaos Space Marines is needed to play a Forgotten Children Company.

The 29th Great Company follows the special rules for an Emperor’s Children army found in Codex: Chaos Space Marines with these additional restrictions:

HQ: The 29th Great Company does not associate with many daemon princes or greater daemons, as they refuse to be bound by any oaths of service. One HQ pick must always be an Emperor’s Children Marine (without Daemonic Stature).  A greater daemon of Slaanesh may only be chosen if the Emperor’s Children HQ pick has a retinue.

Troops: The 29th Great Company chooses to do battle as they have done since their initial founding.  They may only field Daemons after they have taken 4 troops choices of CSM or 2 troops and two heavy support choices of CSM.

Heavy Support: Aside from the sonic destruction afforded by the Noise Marine cult, long-range weaponry is poorly regarded among the 29th Great Company, especially when combat prowess can be proven in hand-to-hand combat. Troops and Heavy Support picks may not take any non-sonic heavy or special weapons except for flamers.

Skalathrax is ours! In any game against a World Eater army, both sides are subject to the intense hatred of their Patrons as well as the failed battle on Skalathrax. Chaos Space Marines from both Chapters hit each other on a 3+. This includes Chosen.

A space marine long before the recovery of the primachs, Lord Commander Bowman commands the 29th great Company in his image of Emperor’s Children perfection.  Since the Inter-legionary war, he has sought to rebuild his legion to the glory of Fulgrim.


Lord Commander Bowman was a crèche raised child of the emperor. His earliest memories are of Combat Drills in preparation for the Emperor's Children crusade through the universe.

A genetically modified human, he differs from the genetically engineered praetorians of the Emperor in that his genetic code derives from Fulgrim, primach of the Emperor's Children, making him a gene son of his primach, not of the Emperor.

Lord Commander took his place amongst the first 1000 Emperor's Children to wear the armor, and set upon the remnants of humanity with the task of bringing the light of the emperor to them.

On Earth a laboratory accident destroyed the stored primach genetic code, and many of the newer gene marines. With the fateful accident, the Emperor's Children were unable to create more marines to bolster their numbers, and each was required to learn the tasks of the specialist marines, so that to the last man the Legion would fight.. Lord Commander Bowman, already a Librarian of no small measure, set it upon himself to master each and every task a marine might be asked to perform. He obtained the title of Master Apothicarian and Weapons Master before Fulgrim was found.

After Fulgrim was found, the remaining Emperor's Children crusaded with him while the newer geneseed marines were being created. Once enough were ready to field a full Great Company, Fulgrim bestowed upon Lord Commander Bowman the rank of Lt. Commander, and the task of battle testing the new geneseed marines.

With the progress of the geneseed marines integrated into the Emperor's Children, and the return to their independent crusade, Fulgrim then gave the task of finding initiates on each of the worlds they liberated, those who stood with the Emperor's Children to fight for the light of the Emperor.

With the creation of the 29th Great Company, Fulgrim recognized Lord Commander Bowman's tireless service to the Emperor's Children with command of the newest Great Company. Only one more great company would be raised before the great awakening.
The 29th Great Company took to the stars, their marines an example to all, their doctrine as perfect as Fulgrims.  As was expected of one who had trained the member’s initiates, the command staff of the 29th sought to prove themselves in word and deed.
During the inter-legionary war, the 29th Great Company was involved in many of the actions of the legion.  On Terra, they fought the rear elements of many of the defending forces, while most of the Emperor’s Children were relishing in their new found patron.
After Horus was killed, the Emperor’s Children and other Legions cut a swath of corruption from Terra to the Eye of Terror.  There the Lord Commander saw the madness of Daemonhood, and took the 29th Great Company out of the Eye of Terror, establishing a doctrine of mobility and secrecy to protect his legion.
With the battle at Skalathrax freshly over, the Lord Commander saw that even the perfection of the Emperor’s Children would be corrupted.  His mind made up, the 29th Great Company set upon a task to rebuild the entire legion as it stood, proud.  Though their allegiance was true to Slaanesh, their new patron, their minds were Fulgrims.


No records of the Emperor’s Children home world exist outside the vaults of the High Lords of Terra. But the oldest members of the Legion still remember the twilight world of Chemos. Following the Heresy Imperial forces assaulted their home world from orbit, intending to destroy their fortress-monastery and eradicate any trace of Chaos from the world. To this date no information of Chemos has been recorded, including a record of Exterminatus, in the databases of the Imperium.

The Emperor’s Children 29th Great Company does not call any one world home.  Instead they still maintain the fleet that was given to them by Fulgrim.  Composed of pre-Interlegionary War ships, the 29th has access to many ships not found in service anymore.  They maintain two fully functional Apothicarian ships, quite capable of elevating new initiates to marines.  There is a goliath Forge ship, capable of producing the Great Companies equipment, vehicles and ammunition.  The forge ship is capable of producing vehicles up to the size of Dreadclaws, Thunderhawks and Land Raiders.

The warships of the 29th are usually of the smaller and lighter variety, used to perform surgical strikes against the enemy.  The Flagship a Gothic Class battle ship, the Remembrance is almost never seen in battle, as it is used to defend the non-combatant ships of the Fleet.

In addition to the Space Marine warships, the 29th Great Company maintains five Imperial Regiment ships.  Each ship is capable of transporting a host of non-marine combatants.  As the 29th uses a selection of non-marine troops, these ships prove invaluable in moving their forces through the depths, of space.

Combat Doctrine

The 29th is fielded exactly as they have been since the teachings of the Emperor and Fulgrim.  They are the surgeon’s instruments of war.  They strike where needed using a multitude of tactics to accomplish their task, and then leave the battle field with their prize.  Often times they arrive in an area, strike and leave before the local defenses can be mustered, while the enemy is left confused.

When there is a protracted engagement expected, the 29th employs their cohorts of non-marines to hold the enemies attention, while they obtain their objectives.

These cohorts are composed of disillusioned Imperial Guard regiments, entire populations of hives gangs, long forgotten beastmen regiments, and a war band of Eldar Dissidents who joined with the 29th several millenniums ago.

While many think the 29th Great Company has not fallen to Slaanesh, those “prizes” taken from the battle field would assure them that Slaanesh is paid homage in all of her glory.


Lord Commander Bowman maintains the 29th’s organization as he maintains their combat doctrine, strictly by the teachings of Fulgrim and the Emperor.  Every detail of the Emperor’s Children hierarchy is maintained, though the worship of Slaanesh has changed must of the meanins.

The Lord Commander has preserved many of the positions that other legions have abandoned, such as the Tech marine, the Librarian and the Chaplain, though now their tasks are different, each is still trained in the manner of an Emperor’s Children.  In many cases this means that their training is much more complete then those of their Imperial counterparts, as the Lord Commander and his staff still remember the trainings and their true meanings.


"The Emperor's Children will raze the universe in the name of Fulgrim and Slaanesh!"
Lord Commander Bowman, 29th Great Company

Service to Fulgrim’s ideals and the ideals of the emperor’s Children come before all other considerations.

The 29th Great Company has been know to fall upon other Emperor’s Children armies that they feel have lost the faith in Fulgrim, or have strayed to far from the teachings of the Emperor’s Children.  Their geneseed is used to create new Emperor’s Children who are taught the correct way.

Those Emperor’s Children who show marks of possession or abomination are segregated into smaller warbands, and allowed a level of autonomist command.  When the Lord Commander finds that they are still true Emperor’s Children he allows them to leave the Great Company, to spread the word of Fulgrim and Slaanesh, many times taking small warbands of Guardsmen and mutants.


“After the near destruction of the Legion in the gene-seeding process, surviving fragments of the Codex Apothecarion Terra indicate that absolute excellence was demanded of the Apothecaries who handled and worked on the precious genetic material. This ethos quickly merged with the Legion’s general belief in perfection, so that the Emperor’s Children gene-seed was perhaps the most pure and stable of all the Legions.  Only the finest physical specimens were chosen for implantation, so that the mutation rate of the gene-seed was practically zero. Every enhancement produced by the gene-seed functioned at peak efficiency, allowing the Space Marines to achieve their full potential in battle. No other Space Marine Legion achieved such a goal, and the technology and expertise required have never been rediscovered in the millennia following the Horus Heresy.” Index Astartes – Emperor’s Children

Knowing the affects that exposure to the Warp has on gene-seed, Apothecaries in the 29th Great Company avoids contact with warp entities.  As all members of the 29th are pure Emperor’s Children Geneseed, they avoid the corrupting influence of Chaos where they can. 

As they have the capacity to elevate humans to Marines, they harvest geneseed when ever they can, and use it in trades with Fabious Bile, for materials and knowledge.  The 29th will go to great lengths to prevent Imperial legions from recovering their geneseed.


"Children of the Emperor! Death to his foes!" Battlecry of the Emperor’s Children, pre-Horus Heresy.

“For Fulgrim and the Emperor’s Children, unleash Slaanesh’s favor upon her enemies!” Battlecry of the 29th Great Company, post-Horus Heresy.

Sin of Pride / now with integrated Gallery
« on: April 16, 2014, 08:09:29 PM »

Sin of Pride / For people wondering what happened
« on: April 16, 2014, 02:53:03 PM »
  As a note for people who are finding out the board is messed up.
  Some time last night we lost 1/2 of our Database.  Doesn't look like any hacks (though we have had alot of web crawlers hitting us and a few "scans"), so that means the database is really messed up.  Really messed up.  Like much of it missing.  The posts text is there, but users are gone, and other tieing tables are gone.  I am trying to recover more  of the site, but right now, assume most things are gone.

  Sorry about that, working with the provider to see if we have SQL backups, to at least roll back a couple of days.

  More information will come as I get it.

+++ Exploratory report of mission 12877
+++ Exploritator Lt Commander Henry
+++ Report of Homo Sapiens Varius
+++ 098600M41

Analysis of Homo Sapiens Varius (Beastmen)

Types of Beastmen   

Caprigors are the thinkers of the Beastman society.  They have human level intellect with animal cunning.  The Caprigors seem to enjoy using their intellect and are not afraid to use their brawn.
More common then other Gors, they have a curling or straight horns on their head like a goat or sheep.  A Cparigor may have the entire head of a got and often has goat legs as well.  A Beastman with these mutations but no others is called a Truegor, a title shared by some other kinds of Gor.  A Caprigor Truegor is said to be bigger, braver and even more cleaver then other Caprigors.

Not quite as numerous as Cparigors, a Bovigor bears cattle horns on his head and may have the entire head of a bull or an ox.  If he has a bull's head and either human or goat legs he can be qualified as a Truegor.  Bovigors are very competitive and like to think they are superior to other Gors.  Most Bovigors believe that brawn is better then brains, many possessing a great deal of the former and very little of the latter.
Ungors have horns not necessarily on their heads.  They may have one horn or many, but they won't be recognizably those of goats or cattle.  Ungors are therefore very varied in appearance and include beastmen with all sorts of mutations.  An Ungor with a particularly spectacular array of horns, or with a single fine horn, is the subject of considerable envy.  However most Ungors have only scabby little horns or peculiar misshapen versions, much to their annoyance and the amusement of more lowly beastmen.
The Majority of Beastmen who are not Gors are called Bray.  The name refers to the braying, whinnying, whooping cacophany that Beastmen make when they band together to fight or feast.   Apart from lacking horns, there is very little consistency in appearance that distingushes a Bray from a Gor.  A very brave, cunning, and unusually luck Bray can rise to become a leader, but this is not very common.  Gors do not like Brays giving them orders, and a Bray who fails to show a Gor the proper respect is asking for trouble.
It is here that I would note that the Beastmen origianlly identified us as Brays, as they did not have any "pure" humans left on the majority of their worlds.   Only Stalndles II had any human population, and only on that planet did the majority of Beastmen understand what a Human was.

The dividing line between a beastman and Chaos spawn is a narrow one, and amongst beastmen it is a line often crossed.  Some spawn are killed or driven away if they are dangerous or useless, though Spawn who are helpful, perhaps because they are still worthwhile fighters, are kept out of respect for the mighty warriors they once were.
A Turnskin is a Beastman who was born human (an occurrence limited to Stalndles II).  The continual seepage of the warp into Stalndles II, and the years of interbreeding have cause mutation among all of the inhabitants of Stalndles II.  A Turnskin is always a Turnskin regardless of his physical appearance, rather then a 'pure' Beastman, which means they are the lowest of the low as far as the beastmen are concerned.  If a Turnskin has horns they are sawn off before he can be accepted by other Beastmen, other wise they could be mistaken for a Gor.
On Stalndles II it is not uncommon that a healthy, sound, human parents produce a mutant child.  These children are taken by the Beastmen and adopted and reared in the Beastmen society.  They are called Gaves or Gave Children.
Beastmen regard Gaves as a gift of Chaos and welcome them amongst their ranks.  They grown into Beastmen and become Gors or Bray depending on their apperance.  Beastmen place no stigma on Gaves, and sometimes add Gave to their name if they adopted foundlings of this kind.

Shamans are a special kind of Beastmen because they have magical powers (psykers), though this is only part of what makes them special.  Shamans are the intermediaries between the Beastmen and Chaos itself.  They can spirit-walk in the Realm of Chaos and talk with Daemons.  Shamans never lead other Beastmen, but the Beastmen's strongest leaders rely on them for all kinds of advice as well as help in battle.

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