Author Topic: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion  (Read 24286 times)

Offline Draco Silverhand

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Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« on: April 25, 2010, 07:50:15 PM »
It was cold. Eighty degrees below zero centigrade. Power armor was just barely functioning, and Sergeant Draconis Falzone kept a brisk pace to ensure the fibre bundles in his armor didn't freeze and break. The suit's heating coils were running at maximum, keeping the internal temperature of the suit at just above freezing. Falzone's own body did the rest of the work, keeping his internal temperatures well within operating ranges.

Following the road, he marched up, up an ever steeper slope towards the bastion above. This continent was bathed in ice, but the steel cleets attached to his boots helped him keep a steady foothold on the climb. As he neared, Draconis spotted a sentry.

"Halt! Brother sergeant of the Imperial Fists. State your name and reason for approaching!" The guard called to him. Kasrkin in snow suits able to withstand this cold? Impossible.

"Draconis Argentus Falzone, sent here to collect supplies from the Imperial Armory for my quest!" He bellowed over the wind. The guardsmen waved to signal he should continue up, and lowered their guns.

"Can never be too careful." The storm trooper said. "Command told us not to let anyone through unless they identified themselves as you." As Draconis approached the guardsman, he noticed the air temperature change drastically. Negative twenty up here.

"It's warm up here..." He said, and the guardsmen nodded, lifting his rifle and firing a shot into the air. A cascade of golden white light rippled from a few yards overhead, and extended out sideways.

"Void shield keeps the heat in, Brother Sergeant, keeps us hot while the continent freezes." The storm trooper beckoned Draconis to follow him as he walked towards the nearest bulkhead door. "In here, you can outfit yourself. I thought you were here to secure arms for a whole squad though..." Draconis nodded.

"I secured authorization to requisition the garrisson at this bastion. She is sending a new platoon to hold the fortifications in your stead." The kasrkin tilted his head sideways.

"So... You're my commander now?" Draconis nodded. "Then, sir, let me bring you inside to introduce you to the men!" He quickly punched his Ident code into the lock-pad, as the doors slid open, he and Draconis stepped inside. After a moment, the doors hissed shut, followed by a gust of hot air. New temperature, 30 degrees centigrade. Draconis took off his helmet and locked eyes with the Imperial Storm Trooper.

"Do you and your men have combat experience?" The storm trooper nodded, indicating his left shoulder. What appeared to be a purity seal was actually a campaign list, amongst the fighting, Draconis recognized several anti-insurgency campaigns and a few xeno-battles listed. "Fighting traitors?" He added, and the storm trooper fingered the regiment name on his shoulder. "Cadia... Good. Name and rank."

"Jorn Valdi, Sergeant of the 417th."

"Sergeant Valdi, take me to your men." Draconis commanded, and they began their descent into the fortress.



"Master... it is almost time..." The rotworm of a slave hunched over beneath the behemoth marine. "They are near, and awaiting your next move... my lord." The Black Templar giant before him regarded him with disgust, before deciding not to kick him this time.

"Open a channel, and ready the host." He commanded simply. The vox caster cracled for a moment as the logisters searched for a frequency to connect the two ships in the void. "Gathon. What news?" He commanded, more than asked.

"My lord Falzone... The world is ripe for invasion. Lush with slaves! Their planetary defence forces are weak... Their hives are overpopulated. We could rape their world with impunity!" The maddened assault marine reported. Gathon had turned to battle lust with more intent on lust than battle, and Slaanesh had bestowed upon him such mutations that encouraged his attentions to debauching the populations he sacked. "Shall we begin the assault, my lord?"

"Not until I have consulted with the oracle." Tigurio snarled. "So, contain yourself a while longer, Gathon, or savage one of your slaves until we are ready for war." The assault marine bowed to the vox/pict caster, and the image shorted out. Tigurio turned from the bridge of his strike cruiser to stride down the halls to a holding bay. Minutes passed and he arrived in the bay, still holding the intent in his mind. Approaching the daemonhost chained to the center of the chamber, he snarled as he drew a combat blade, carved an evil looking sigil into his own palm and spat acid into the blood dripping onto the floor. His third eye glowed brilliantly for a moment as he began to draw on the floor with the tip of his blade, using the phlegm and blood as ink. Connected to the daemonhost, Tigurio channeled the warp into the image he created until it became a living picture. The world beneath his ship now made visible within through the warp.

"Are you in there?" He quietly asked, searching the planet's surface for something... A glowing red dot on the horizon, he reached for the world, and it spun, bringing the red dot to the center. Looking up at the daemonhost, he studied the faces staring back down at him. "Are you using me, or are we using each other?" He mused. "This is the place it is hidden?" He demanded of the host.

"What you seek, you will find, down in the bowels of Hades Mine." Was all he got in response, but it seemed to satisfy his curiosity.

"Then, when I find it, I shall set you free. In exchange, you will give me my revenge!" He spat as he shouted at the daemonhost.

"We will fulfill our end of the bargain."

Offline Necris

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #1 on: April 25, 2010, 10:37:32 PM »
The Rogue Black Templar crashed through the tarvern wall crushing several patrons before rolling to a stop, pushing himself to his feet he coughed up a glob of blood spitting it to the floor before drawing his sword linking it to the chains on his arms he looked at the hole in the wall waiting as the patrons backed away from him fearful of his presence, in the corner of his eyes he saw other traitor marines gripping weapons tightly in preperation of what was to come he thought he could use and tilted his head to regard them better.

Scions of Pleaseure he bellowed a rousing cry.

"For Slanneshi, death to the followers of Khorne!"

They cheered standing as the shadow of his attacker formed in the dust slowly he stepped through the hole coming upright he was taller than the Templar by a head his bald head tattooed with wings, he turned looking at the scions of pleasure who readied their weapons.

"Some assistance would be appriciated seems our prey has found friends."

Three more marines strode in behind him, one clad in bone white armour with a blue helm in his hands he held a roaring chain axe he stepped to the right of his master the next was in unpainted armour the metal still the same dull marbeled steel of the day of it's manufacture a likewise unbedorned bolter took aim at the room, behind them still came a proud figure almost as tall as the first his hair long and a platinum blond that shone starkly against his blackened armour decorated with finely crafted and inlaid gold work, in his hand was a sleek elegent sword that crackled with power and purpose, flanking from the taverns enterance came three more figures two in black one edged with silver the other with white the last wore a deep green they each had bolters primed and ready, the three Scions of Pleasure lowered themselves back into theire chairs not wishing to take on this force.

"You see, you will find no friends when I am near."

The Templar faltered lowering his weapon.

"What is it you want?"

"Tigurio Falzone."

"You think I would betray the Marshal?"

"If you value your life, tell me where he is and I swear I will not kill you."

The Templar's head swung.

"Hades Mine, he intends to sack it I am here to gain the Blackhearts favour for the Marshals return."

He nodded and turned from the fallen marine looking at the blue helmed one to his right.

"Kill him."

"You swore!"

"I swore I wouldn't kill you, Brak however is not bound by my oaths."

"Indeed not."

The Tempar brought his sword up but it was too late a screaming chain axe had already taken his head from his shoulders it bounced off the far wall and hit the ground before the body tumbled, turning their leader stalked form the tavern.

"And the rest."

The marines armed with bolters opened fire without hessitation the one armed in green emptied his weapon first and drew a flamer hung from his shoulder he washed the building with burning promethium before they all withdrew stalking away from the tavern as it collapsed in on itself, a blue armoured marine moved to his side.

"That was unwise, drawing attention to yourself here is not safe."

"You think I give a damm what the Blackheart thinks."

"Did you get a destination at least."

"Hades Mine."

The group vanished into the teaming sprawl of the slum city and would soon  be gone back aboard their ship and away, before anyone of import could do anything about it at least.

The hunt was on.

This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Offline Draco Silverhand

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #2 on: April 26, 2010, 09:21:41 AM »
Tigurio made planetfall within the hour. An orbital bombardment preceded the assault, succeeded by deathwind missile drop pods, and finally Thunderhawk bombing runs. If the Imperial Guard planetary defence forces found themselves overwhelmed in the initial bombardments, they found themselves overwhelmed and washed away by the cultist assault unleashed as drop pod after drop pod unleashed squads of traitor guardsmen led by traitor Black Templars.

Tigurio Falzone strode amidst the chaos, directing his attentions and movement towards the ancient and abandoned mine. Deep within, something stirred, a presence that had slumbered for a thousand years. A presence now sensing the nearness of the fallen space marine commander, and his intent to find it.

Yes.... Come, Tigurio... Come death of Akthalos, Betrayer amongst friends... Come to me... Come to me and RELEASE ME!!! The earth trembled, and the few surviving defenders fled in terror to the sound of laughter from below and from the Space Marines.

An hour later and Tigurio's techmarines had repaired the motors for the elevator shaft into the mine with their now twisted mechanical litanies of taint. The mine shaft seemed to shake with quiet laughter as Tigurio and his command squad made the descent into the mine. The warp was strong here. A weak spot in the physical realm from a rift opened millenia ago... This was a pit of death long before the Imperium had made it a mine.

Though none who now rode the elevator shaft, nor any alive to tell of it, knew; the mine had been dug into an ancient fane. A cave dwelling of an old priesthood long since past. An old priesthood that dined on the flesh of men, and children and made other uses of women. This old priesthood had enslaved the population for thousands of years before the Emperor's light had come to the world, and the priests themselves had practiced dark magics in the name of a dark god. That dark magic had been what led to the initial failure to pacify Akthanos, as daemons ran rampant against the Imperial Armies. It was only when Rogal Dorn's own legion brought the full weight of their guns to bear that the world was silenced. In the wake of the Horus Heresy, a cult sprung up here, using the cave for their debased rituals... Through the millenia after the Horus Heresy, the cult was purged, their records erased, and the fane purified... But the evil lingered on. After a time, the old legends became myths, exaggerated beyond belief, and eventually put to rest by the Ecclesiarchy.

Some time ago, the planet had been worth much more, as its mines had held great wealth. But after Hades Mine was opened, and delved into the ancient cavern dedicated to an ancient evil, the world's production began to ebb. When the horrors within Hades mine were unleashed upon the world, the Inquisition purified the world from orbit, then sent ground forces to cleanse all possible pockets of taint. The world was repopulated, but the mines of the world were shut down. With mining forbidden by ancient Imperial Dicatus, and with no public recollection of why, the world simply ceased to be important to the Imperium. The daemons were foolishly thought to have been vanquished, and the world safe... So long as the mines were kept sealed.

Yet now, Tigurio Falzone and his traitor marines were descending down, deep into the darkness of the mine. Past the darkness, the mine's walls began to glow. Tigurio felt the damness of Chaos, the stench of decay. He felt the putrescence as he felt this leg of his journey coming to a close.

Stepping off the elevator lift, Tigurio strode down a long winding mine tunnel, as if posessed of a certainty and knowledge of his destiny. He stepped onto a mag-rail mine cart, and intoned a vague rite of activation as he pushed the rune of awakening. The cart slid down the rail, Tigurio had left his men behind, with orders to kill anything that ventured out if it was not him. As the mag-rail picked up speed, Tigurio had to hold a restraint bar as the cart swept through turns, peaks and dips as if he were riding in a Land Speeder. Finally, the cart slowed to a crawl and Tigurio leapt off before it came to a complete halt.

The cavern he was in glowed with a light purple haze barely perceptible to the human eye. Indeed, if a human were to stand anywhere in the cave before Tigurio arrived, he would only see black, if he did not see anything from the warp, that is. And once Tigurio had entered, he would only see two, red, glowing, evil eyes passing over the whole room as they took it all in. Tigurio powered down his helmet, and took it off. The purple remained, and he sniffed the air. One second it was flowers. Some form of lilac, perhaps. The next he was smelling rotted fish, iron rich blood, a banquet hall, human entrails, human fluids and pheremones, blood again, then musk and incense. Each scent was fresh as the last, and each was new, different... Except the recurring scent of blood.

"Unuurthk'thechakkirnzvdbkhrduvviishkivbbdlikhathnduur..." He whispered to the air. His third eye opening and glaring directly in front of him at the altar. The altar was in tact. It had all the trappings of Chaos, and indeed every possible sigil or glyph to represent a god of Chaos was inscribed somewhere on the altar. An altar cloth lay on the floor. Stained in blood, Tigurio lifted it and sniffed the cloth. Fresh blood? He placed the cloth over the altar and both vanished, the cavern became huge, and Tigurio became aware that the cavern was now as it is in the real world... That what he'd just seen was more... memory.

"Vksan'thdknar" He called out, and a laugh answered, faint as if a gust of wind. "Show yourself to me, that I may free you!" He called out. "Vksan'thdknar! I shall release you from this prison!" He replaced his helmet, allowing his autosensors to project an image of the cave's full size into his view.

Welcome, Tigurio Falzone, destroyer of man, Death of Akthalos. Welcome to my home... Why, dear little plaything, why do you think I would ever want out?

"This is a prison for you! A damned trap to you, is it not!?" He snarled.

I admit. It does frustrate me so that no man takes the time to visit... Not since that pestilence you call the Imperium rose up... Nurgle's rot... HA! The Imperium is the rot... Nurgle would provide a cure no doubt, but I am not of Nurgle... Dear plaything.

"I am no toy. Do not trifle with me, daemon, or I..."

Send me back to the Warp, traitor marine? Beat the life from me? You have no power over me. The name you use is a means to communicate, not my true name, which I shall never give. The daemon's voice grew more clear in Tigurio's mind as he began to see the outline of the secret keeper. I am a keeper of secrets, dear manthing. I am a steward of knowledge... And I do not share lightly, but I will share with you this. I can no better think a way to keep my secrets than to seclude myself from my brethren and your former allies. This world was of no import to the Imperium. Tithe grade Adeptus Non... But now that you have attacked, you will bring the Inquisition here. No doubt to find the artifact which keeps me hidden... The artifact which I have bound myself to in order to stay in this world. Then they shall destroy it, purify it of all taint, and in so doing, send me and my secrets back to the Warp.

So tell me... Why shouldn't I kill you now for this?
Tigurio found himself staring up into the glowering countenance of a 5 meter tall daemonic woman. She held a weapon in each of her two upper arms, while her two lower arms seemed to bear runes of power on each palm.

"Because, I can move your artifact. Give you a new safe haven... Far from this world." He did not think much about what he was saying, but knew he would be obliterated if he did not act quickly.

You have offered this freely, and will keep your word as your honor? If you fail, do you pledge me your soul as token favor to satiate my rage, and the soul of every man under your command? Her voice a sibilant hiss inside his mind, Tigurio found himself strangely mesmerized by the vile and beautiful thing before him, her tail swishing over his head.

"I pledge the souls of my men to satisfy you if I fail to safeguard you into hiding." Tigurio began, but began to smile. "But I will not pledge my own life over such a matter. I only offer you the chance to take my soul if you help me avenge the men I have lost to the folley of the Imperium. Help me to bring ruination upon the worlds of man, and I shall not seek safe harbor from any God of Chaos, should I fail to safeguard you back into hiding.

You pledge such things so freely, as if your own immortal soul were so burdensome that you would happily discard it... Very well... I accept. With that, the great daemoness slashed Tigurio's right hand, licked his blood from her blade, and thrust a hideous shard of rusted metal into his bloody hand. The blood contact with the blade formed a brilliant light, blinding Tigurio for a moment, before dimming. In his hand, the shard of iron had become a beautifully crafted dual-handed power sword, with litanies that appeared Imperial, but as he read each rune and sigil, Tigurio became acutely aware that each was a blasphemy against the Imperium, some of which was a threat against him as well.

Sheathing the apparent relic blade, Tigurio fixed the hilt to his belt and mounted the mag-rail cart. As he emerged from the depths, a plume of dust and debris followed in his wake, the caves, having been supported as much by eldritch energies as by now-rusted plasteel supports, now falling apart behind him. The Black Templars awaiting him regarded him with distrust as he approached, but lowered their arms as they verified it was indeed their Marshal.

Within the hour, the full force of his assault had removed itself, with the exception of the traitor guardsmen, who were no longer needed. Left behind to secure the world for the Gods of Chaos, they began to spread out their forces to hunt down the remaining Imperial resistance. They did not have long however, as once all the Black Templars were safely in orbit, Tigurio ordered the immediate bombardment of the planet's surface with magma bombs and cyclotronic warheads. The bombardment took hours, and the screams of death echoed up from the surface through the Warp. Tigurio felt a certain measure of pleasure emanating from the sword on his hilt, and smiled as he watched the world burn.



Draconis Argentus Falzone mustered his men. The Storm Troopers under his command boarded the Thunderhawk Gunships that had landed just outside the void shield barriers. The men had run at full speed to get inside, in order to avoid frostbite, and none were lost in boarding the gunships.

Once aboard the Imperial Navy Sword-class frigate in orbit, Sergeant Falzone ordered the small fleet of Imperial ships to make for the nearest Warp Jump. An astrotelepathica signal had been recieved reporting a renegade Black Templar raiding force in the vicinity of Akthalos system. He was bound and determined to investigate and find the whereabouts of his wayward uncle.
« Last Edit: April 27, 2010, 06:44:21 AM by Draco Silverhand »

Offline Necris

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #3 on: April 29, 2010, 08:51:22 PM »
Swords clashed as he circled moving through the training cycle he leant into the attack a blade passing over his head by centimetres another blade came at his chest as the fighting cage reacted to his position, his blade flashed out smashing the mechanical arm and he span punching a second arm snapping it with ease, a third arm scored a deep wound across his chest and he spun full circle hacking the weapon apart the wound was already healing as he called halt to the cycle.

He stepped from the cage sliding the weapon back into the rack and drawing a linen towel to him dabbing his chest of blood before pulling on a white robe fringed in dark green, he paused turning to regard the figure standing at the hatchway.

"Something you require Brak."

He strode into the training hall, his own robe trimmed in blue he strode to the training cage looking at the damage.

"I always get restless during warp transit, I loath the feeling of sliding through the immaterium."

He flicked one of the broke arms before moving to the weapons rack his fingers slid over the weapons held upon it.

"It's times like these where one like me finds the inactivity unbearable the lack of combat maddening, I often think it was this stillness which led to us being like we were, forced to be still when given the opportunity to be unleashed we launched ourselves into battle without restraint."

He turned rapidly pulling an axe from the rack it sang through the air forcing him to leap back the blade split the fabric of the robe, he stepped back his hand coming up to the fabric, Brak stepped round holding the axe he and a single edged sword.

"Care to help elevate some stress."

He caught the blade as it was tossed at him spinning it in his hand he eased his lip rotating the weapon before nodding. Brak smiled launching himself at him axe singing through the air. Their blades clashed sparks coming from the blades.

"You know Captain, I've never seen you truly fight, oh I've seen you kill but you always hold back, why is that?"

The exchanged blows the pair of them moving through the hall using their surroundings as they hacked and slashed at one another Brak a manic grin on his face while Nero moved with cold calculate skill, he turned each attack away with ease which only served to fuel Brak further his grin turning to a silent snarl as he moved and struck and moved again always keeping the swords tip away from his skin.

Nero pushed him his blade gradually becoming faster and faster the tip getting closer and closer to Brak's flesh he dipped the tip of his sword presenting an opening which Brak went for and in a blinding movement sent the head of Brak's axe spinning into the wall, Brak stepped back from the sword tip.

"See even against me you hold back."

"Because I don't need to use my full skill to beat you, it's a matter of keeping my strategy secret let my enemies think they are my superiors before illuminating them."

The phrase made Brak hiss and spit.

"You know how I hate that phrase, he used it."

"Who?"

"Who do you think, we are all here because of him."

Brak was right, he sighed tossing the weapon aside.

"Forgive me, sometimes I forget. How long till we're out of the warp?"

"No idea you'll have to speak with Tass."

He nodded striding from the hall
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Offline Draco Silverhand

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #4 on: April 30, 2010, 05:10:37 AM »
The spacetime continuum near Akthalos began to shift in the darkness. A few seconds into the future became the past before becoming present, light began to crackle through the rift as raw emotional power slipped from its native world into the world of the physical realm. The energy trickle became a flood as a gaping hole in the warp-realspace barrier rent open, and a sword-class frigate, along with several dozen smaller support craft swept back into the realm of reality. Insanity closed its gate behind them, and there was darkness once more.

"My lord." A servitor's voice droned over the vox network. "We have arrived in system. Gloriam Imperator." The voice was metallic and crackled with static buildup. Sergeant Falzone found himself stirred from meditation by the translation back into realspace, and the announcement to his quarters only confirmed what he had already figured.

"All hands to their stations. Full battle drill." Draconis ordered. He wasn't taking any chances. If his blasphemous uncle left behind any force to oppose the Inquisition, Draconis would not hesitate to unleash Hel. At his order, claxons rang throughout the hallways, and the support craft flitting around the Sword frigate spread out to form a defensive perimeter.

"Sir. All scans indicate no enemy fleets nearby, however there is a problem." One of the chapter serfs paged Draconis on his personal vox.

"I'll be right up." He strode on up the hallway, preparing his mind for the worst. When he arrived on the bridge, Draconis was met with a holo-pict on the primary viewer, showing the primary planet of Akthalos. Sgt. Falzone knew this world. It was a temperate world, not rich in life, but not poor either. Its primary feature was that it didn't matter. Literally. There were ancient mines on the world, which the Imperium had sealed... But the planet had no forges of its own, was not in a strategic location, and was for all intents and purposes barely able to supply a tithe of Imperial Guardsmen each year. Even so, this world was not as it should be. It was wreathed in smoke.

"Bring me online with the system Governor." He ordered.

"Negative. There is no vox activity in the system at all, sir." A serf spoke up.

"Well, try anyways!" He snapped, his glare causing several other serfs to back up. "Just because they're not talking doesn't mean they're not listening. So do it."

"Aye, aye sir!" The serf worked quickly to ping every signal in the system before reporting once more. "No response, sir."

"Bring us into close orbit." Draconis' anger was rising up at the calamity he knew had occurred on the surface, but he stilled his rage and focused on the matter at hand. "Scan for life forms, scanner arrays, power sources, anything to indicate where there might have been Imperial outposts."

"Sir?" The vox communicae serf queried. "Where they might have been?"

"Yes. My heretic grand uncle Tigurio Falzone, formerly a Marshal of the Black Templars chapter... I suspect he has been through this system. If so, he would have razed to the ground any force opposing him. He barely held back such wrath when he was still fighting in service to the Emperor..." Draconis glared at the screen. "Anything on the surface? Or were you just listening to me ramble..." His glare shifted to the vox technician.

"Sir. Surface structures appear to indicate an Imperial mining settlement here..." An orange crosshair lit up on the holoscreen. "But, there's no signs of life, nor any power sources operating on the surface. The air is also choked with dust, making any attempt to land by Thunderhawk treacherous without a landing zone already squared away." The serf rattled off the report quickly to avoid any rebuke for delays. "Also, sir, we identified it as a mining settlement due to the large quantity of Hab-blocks and a massive hole in the ground just outside the settlement, which could be a very deep mine."

"Very well." Draconis turned from the bridge. "Talridge. You have the conn." Captain Talridge snapped a salute at the departing Sergeant space marine. "Keep me informed if anything changes."

"Aye, aye sir."

"Men." Draconis spoke in battle cant across his personal vox. "Prep for recon on the surface of Athkalos." Various affirmatives reported back. "Meet me in the drop-pod launch bay immediately."

Within the hour, Draconis and his men were rapidly descending to the surface of Akthalos, their drop pod screaming through the atmosphere. Retrothrusters kicked in, and the descent ended with the pod slamming into the center of the mining town. The pod opened with a loud clang, and the marines stepped out, bolters sweeping the blasted, burnt out landscape for any sign of trouble.



"My lord!" A lowly wretch called out from the lower deck of the bridge. "We have arrived at Bolgoth as you commanded, my master!" The sickly looking thing cackled, its whip scarred face hideous with a grin... "What are your orders?"

"Any sign we have been detected?" The Black Marshal inquired.

"None. My master..."

"Then teleport me to the coordinates as planned...



Bolgoth's surface. The world's air stank with blood and feces. Entrails decorated the bastions of once proud Imperial Administratum buildings. Even these buildings were barely recognizeable as man-made, as their forms have long been eternally marred by the presence of the Warp.

It was into the ruins of a small settlement on this world which Tigurio teleported. The telltale spike of energy barely noticeable to any but the most expert technician, which on this world, there were none. The world was feral. Gone mad with the Warp, and the few humans who inhabited it regularly slaughtered each other for their dark god, Khorne, who ruled this world with a brass plated iron grip. However, it was not the battles Tigurio was concerned with. It was an artefact. An unholy relic of Khorne, known only as Thirst Quencher. Tigurio had been shown enough by his unholy oracle that he suspected the artefact was a skull goblet made from stone, bone and rusted iron. Beyond that, he had no idea just what manner of goblet he was looking for, but knew he'd recognize it on sight.

The settlement was quiet. An eerie calm he had not expected to encounter on a world ruled by Khorne. Tigurio strode down the street into the central hub of the town. There, in the middle of the town, was a fountain of blood, its trickle and splash serving as the only sound in the entire settlement. He swept his bolt pistol in a wide arc, expecting a foe nearby. Some manner of guardian over this seemingly demonic blood-spring. But there was none, and the Black Marshal dipped a finger into the pooling blood of the fountain. Sniffing it, he smelled traces of human, alien and animal blood all mixed together. A taste and he was sent reeling. A rush of sensation and thought, images and emotions flooded his mind until at last, the body of Marshal Tigurio Falzone lay on the ground.



A verdant world. Lush, green, teeming with life and resources. Humans working together to build an Imperium of Light and Reason...

Centuries pass... The Emperor is dead! All hail the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! The world devolves slowly over a millenium, technology fades over thousands of years, a ruined husk where once a vast and mighty empire lay. The world is not missed as it is plunged into a thousand years of chaos of its own. Warp storms wrack the skies, and Tigurio looks up, now somewhat cognizant of his presence in the vision. Wings black out the sky. Screeches of fury and hate deafen Imperial defenders as they fight tooth and nail to hold the line against inevitable doom.

The world lies dead. The wars are over. A barren rock, the Imperium came to Bolgoth to reunite, but instead delivered a death sentence. The surface of the world is ash. A millennium passes...

The world is covered in new life. Seeds brought from nearby worlds found root in fertile ash. Water is dug up from below the planet's surface, and life begins anew. A new warp storm... Tigurio feels the earth shake, tanks roll by, blasting into the coming night with the fury of men who know they shall never see the light of day again. A greater daemon of Khorne flies down from the skies, plummeting into the tank spearhead like a meteor. He lashes out with a mighty blow from his axe and fells the tanks. Their crews incinerated by the detonation of ammunition stores.

Tigurio watches the history of the world unfurl, then sees a daemon weilding a chalice of bone, brass, stone and rubied glass. The monstrosity lifts the chalice in the air, pouring gallons of blood into its mouth. As the daemon smashes aside an Imperial officer, gallons of boiling blood splash from the goblet onto guardsmen, and each doused in blood shrieks in agony as his skin blisters and burns. The daemon drinks again, kicking a tank onto its side.

Tigurio follows the daemon. He watches it cut a swathe through the guardsmen lines. Right down the streets of the settlement until it is met with the fury of Space Marines. A space marine captain, a mighty warrior from a long forgotten now dead chapter, rises up to challenge the daemon of Khorne. A duel, and the daemon is smote. His chalice falls into the fountain in the square, and the essence of the Daemon escapes into the goblet. The space marine Captain doesn't live long enough to ensure the destruction of the goblet, however, as a horde of cultists swarm the square, led by World Eaters and bloodletter daemons. In the ensuing battle, none recover the goblet, too busy killing each other to search for it.

Thousands of years go by. The goblet's master waits impatiently, bound within the goblet, waiting for a host...

None come until now...



Tigurio wakes, his vision cloudy, but remembers the whole dream he just endured. The daemon was unable to enter into him from such a short connection, but in that time, he knew he had found the resting place of the goblet... Disturbing that goblet, however, would bring unwanted attention to himself and his ship. He could escape the planet, but not undetected. Sending any sort of signal from the surface, and being teleported away would no doubt invite the attentions of the World Eaters, or some other Khornate cult. Regardless, Tigurio stared into the murky bloody waters of the fountain. The goblet had fed the foundain blood, and no doubt, the Daemon would try to wrestle wills with Tigurio if he tried to claim the chalice.

Tigurio reached into the waters and gripped the chalice with all his might, pulling the goblet from the water. In the seconds he had done so, his arm already registered the searing heat of a thousand hells, and the might of Khorne surging through his body. The smell of blood pleased him more than usual, and he felt an insane urge to drink from the goblet he knew would sear his body. Fighting the urge, he grunted and used his other hand to push the goblet away from his face.

"Daemon. Embodiment of thirst for blood, burning thirster of rage. Hear me..." He strained to speak, while fighting off his right arm, now apparently posessed of a will of its own to consume the goblet's contents. "I did not come here to destroy you, so honor me... do not destroy nor consume me... for now..." He hoped by presenting the possibility he might let the daemon take him at a later time would help with the current argument.

Why, treacherous Black Marshal? Why should I trust you? You serve the Changer of Ways... A trickster and fiend!

"Because I want what you want..." Tigurio grunted. "Imperial blood." And with that, the daemon's will subsided for a moment.

Imperial blood? And are the Black Templars not tyrants of the corpse god?

"Those who have not broken their oaths of... purity, perhaps... But I have foregone the weakling Imperium. They disgust me. I will rid the galaxy of the rot of mortal man if I may, with your help." He growled his answer.

Big plans for such a puny being... You would stand no chance in resisting me, if you had not intrigued me with the promise to get out of this world and being the slaughter anew...

"Then I have your support?" Tigurio asked.

On my honor, I will slay the minions of the Imperium.

"Get us off this rock." Tigurio spoke into his private vox caster. In a second he and the goblet were gone... But as he had predicted, the forces on the planet had become alerted to his presence. This world was protected by warp anomalies that would prevent an orbital assault from destroying the inhabitants, and as Tigurio's ship moved further from the planet, they detected an orbital fleet of ships, likely dedicated to Chaos. Tigurio quickly ordered departure to his next objective before waiting to see if the fleet would mobilise.
« Last Edit: May 01, 2010, 05:07:09 AM by Draco Silverhand »

Offline Kallidor

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #5 on: May 02, 2010, 02:46:28 AM »
Lomak squinted through the porthole again and scribbled some more notes on a pad of paper. It wasn't exactly a sophisticated method but he tried not to use datapads, there spirits matched their size, they were small and easily overwhelmed by more sophisticated logic-engines. The hive fleet was two million kilometres away, moving like a spear of muddy water.

For several years now he had capained an Inquisitorial nullship, the Sentinel, following the Hive Fleet Vritra. It had not yet entered space controlled by the Imperium of Man and so Lomak and his tiny crew were the only humans to have studied Vritra as it consumed the few worlds controlled by the Loncot, a race of harmless aliens who had put up a feable defence of the first world attacked by the Tyranids but, utterly defeated, had retreated in the face of the onslaught. Another of their worlds was only a few days away from being consumed and their ships were streaming away. A few opportunistic fleet organisms were attacking the transport craft, barely visible through the long range viewers, but the Hive Fleet proper was ignoring them, focused on the doomed planet.

   "It is time Inquisitor." Teq Farran was the Mechanicus priest responsible for administering to the nullship. She appeared to be in her twenties although Lomak believed she was much older then him, well, older in purely biological terms. He didn't answer her, he seldom felt the need to speak. Instead he closed the aperture around the porthole and his command rig moved noiselessly across the ceiling of the vessel, take him up away from the deck and into the Captain's position. The null ship was heavily guarded against all forms of psychic surveillance, to such an extent that the Sentinel's Navigator had to be heavily sedated most of the time as the ship was cut off from the Astronomicon when in full stealth mode, a very distressing situation for a Navigator. As a psyker himself he sympathised, cut off from the warp he felt numb, as an ordinary man might if he lost all sensation in his skin.

Every few months however he was required to contact his superiors in the Ordo Xenos and make a report on the Hive Fleets progress and behaviour. They would need to travel away from the Hive Fleet to ensure that their presence was not detected. The Sentinel would then drop all its stealthing fields and would once more allow the occupants to communicate.

   "We are approaching safe distance... now."

   "Full stop."

   "Full stop aye."

   "Disengage null field and cancel stealth mode."

   "Disengaging now."

Yo all intents and purposes the Sentinel aws placed outside of space and time when stealthed, not even warp entities could detect its presence. As soon as the null ship's systems were no longer operating the full presence of the warp seemed to flood into the tiny vessel. Lomak hissed in pain and clutched the side of his head with both hands, his eyes tight shut, trying to block out the pain in his head. This wasn't normal, something had gone wrong. The ship's Astropath, Ornice Tell staggered towards him and collapased to her knees. He touched a rune on the arm of his command cradle and it slid down the wall on its arm without a whisper. It came to rest just beside Ornice and Lomak grabbed her arm. Blood was trickling from her eyes and ears and she slumped onto his lap.

   "I have received a message Inquisitor. A saw a world burning, clutched in four twisted paws. It was for you Inquisitor, a message for you, of something returning. It came through as priority message, Dark Magenta level." Ornice sagged, panting at the exertion. Four twisted paws? He did not quite understand the meaning of the message but he had an inkling.

   "Do you know who sent it?" She shook her head, almost too tired to even do that. "This world, do you know where it was?"

   "Akthalos, the world was called Akthalos."

   "Rouse the Navigator, we have a more urgent mission to attend to now, the Tyranids can wait."
Be Pure!
Be Vigilant!
BEHAVE!

Offline Koval

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #6 on: May 02, 2010, 09:14:11 AM »
"Hello, Tigurio."

The voice seemed to be coming from the chalice in his hands, but at the same time Tigurio could hear, almost feel the faintest of breaths behind him. In an instant he was turning round, his hand straying to his sword, his confused gaze flickering between me and the chalice.

I do enjoy that little jest. Gets them every time.

"Who are you and what are you doing on my ship?" Tigurio growled, but if I'm honest he wasn't the least bit intimidating despite me barely coming up to his shoulder.

"I have my ways," I grinned, producing the very trinket I assumed would confound him.

"You're an Inquisitor?" Tigurio asked, his tone softer yet somehow contriving to be more menacing.

"Yes, and no. It's a long story and I don't imagine I have the time to tell you the specifics. It may simply be easier if I show you."

Any attempt in language to describe how I did what I did next would make me sound like one of those human seers that always overcomplicates matters to the point of obfuscating stupidity, so I'll spare you that and simply tell you that I spontaneously mutated in front of him. It wasn't all that severe (and, as it turned out, easily remedied), though I imagine Tigurio rather didn't know what to make of my entire facial structure reshaping itself. Bones became more prominent, skin stretched more tightly, teeth grew longer and sharper. My eyes managed to sink back into their sockets and glow fiercely, and my tongue became longer and less stubby, snaking out to taste the air before I swiftly withdrew it.

"A daemon!" Tigurio hissed, sniffing the air as he drew his sword. I couldn't help but do the same, scenting the spilled blood of slaughtered innocents as I produced a weapon to match his own. It's rather gratifying to note that before I inherited his body, Inquisitor Dakarai Khama was rather fond of chainswords; I prefer the axe, myself, but if I'm honest the sword was just a lot easier to reach.

"As much as I would like to spar with you, Tigurio, that would probably end badly for one or other of us," I reminded him, "but if you insist then I suppose I shouldn't deny you your request."

"Wait."

Tigurio lowered his blade and I reluctantly did likewise.

"You're a subservient specimen," he observed.

"Huh, specimen!" I huffed petulantly. "Like I'm some sort of biology project! And you have no idea why, do you?"

"I can guess," Tigurio ventured. "The chalice. The smell of blood, that's not the chalice, that's you."

"You're getting there, think a bit harder."

"You can't be the daemon in the chalice. You're a daemonhost, that wouldn't be possible. Your speech is different."

"Keep going."

"You were sent here," Tigurio concluded.

"Sent is perhaps a little inaccurate, but you're essentially right," I nodded, my face reverting to normal at last. "Call me Agares."

"But why the Inquisitor's body?"

"Because I can't maintain myself without it?" I reminded him. "Didn't that cross your mind? You said it yourself, I'm subservient. I'm ... In the Templars' structure you have Sword Brethren. Compare me with a Sword Brother among Initiates. Not yet a Marshal or even a Castellan. Yet I'm independent from the Endless Legion. Putting it simply, I was the most strategically appropriate entity to observe you."

"Observe me?"

"That chalice you're holding. Let's just say I'm here to make sure you use it."

I directed my gaze at the chalice and beckoned it over with a gesture. The kindred spirit inside it noticed, and raised Tigurio's arm so that it was at eye level with me.

"And I'm also here to make sure you don't eat him. New orders from the Skull Throne, Tigurio Falzone is to be kept alive."

It...will...be...done...

"Now then, Tigurio," I began, turning back to face him. "There's only one reason why you might have gone to retrieve my compatriot. To wage war. It's rather a good thing you found it before I found you, because this makes all three of our jobs much easier. So, tell me: What are your motives?"

Offline Necris

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #7 on: May 03, 2010, 12:26:36 AM »
Warp space parted and reality became material again Nero stood at the command terminal of the strike ship as it's translation back into real space was completed, lacking in the comforts of a ship of line this ship was built for war and war alone, not command thrones or comfortable seating adorned the bridge instead the crew stood.

"Sensors detecting Imperial fleet in orbit of the world, our translation has not been noticed yet."

"Mask our presence and move behind the moon, I will not engage unless I have too."

Tass turned from the console he was hovering over the human operator ignoring the giant in brushed steel armour behind him.

"The sensors indicate a Sword class and escorts, we are the superior vessel."

"Even so a show of force might end us now."

He pulled up telemetry readouts and frowned.

"The world has been bombarded, Astartes with two thunderhawks, I want Orin with us, tell Brak he might get his wish."

He strode from the bridge knowing his orders would be followed to the letter, he had armour to done.
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Offline Draco Silverhand

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #8 on: May 03, 2010, 09:21:09 AM »
"My motives? Strike at the heart of the Imperium, tear it out while it still beats and crush it, making the body watch as I squeeze the lifeblood from it, perhaps even drink of it as I do."

"You plan to dethrone the Emperor, parade his rotting corpse around the Imperium, sacking cities and planets across the galaxy all the while feeding off the Emperor's soul as you do this?" The Daemon Inquisitor asked, seeming amused.

"If only it were so simple." Tigurio said after a moment of dramatic pause. "That is what I believe Abbaddon would like to do, if it were so easy. However, it is not. My motive is simple. The Imperium is weak. I must purge weakness. Does that not please the God of battle, bloodshed and honor?"

"Honor... A loyal space marine only so recently turned to Chaos, and he speaks of honor... You're a psyker. Your own former allies not only will call you traitor, but witch, heretic and defiler. You break your vows and you expect me to believe that you still feel a sense of honor... Hah."

"Does my reasoning for my actions not strike as honorable? I was sworn to uphold the purity of the Imperium. I was sworn to keep the Imperium strong! The Imperium is weak, decadent, impure! I turned to chaos at the hight of a battle against a man bent on overthrowing the Imperium and creating a new era of Imperium... The Silver Imperium! He was just one of many millions of madmen who think they could play God better than a corpse! For feth and fodder, my motive is to purify that weakness! Is that dishonorable?"

"No... I suppose not." Agares said after a moment of thought, never breaking eye contact with Tigurio.

"And you serve the god of blood. Khornasch! Purifying weakness in the Imperium would serve him twofold would it not? Battles now, and a stronger enemy to slaughter later?" Tigurio paused. "You asked me my motives, then you mocked my honor. All you really need to know, at the end of the day, is that there will be blood. Much blood and death, and many skulls for the Skull Throne." Agares let a slight smile show. "But do not mock me again, or you will drift through the endless void of space in a null pod." He threatened, though the look on Agares' face, and the sensation sweeping up his arm from the chalice both made him regret the outburst.

"So..." Tigurio started after a moment. "Do I have your legions vast?"



Draconis called an all clear, and his men fanned out, five of them took defensive positions in the ruins surrounding the drop pod. The other four joined him as he headed towards the marker on his helmet's autosensor screen. The ash-laden skies above bode evil in his mind, and he set his face grim with the thought of vengeance upon his uncle for this atrocity.

"Movement up ahead." One of his brothers called out.

"Hold fire." Draconis ordered, though he and his brothers all leveled their bolters at the location where shadow moved within the smoky street. "Halt and Identify!" He shouted, his vox-caster amplifying his voice. The shadow froze in place, and a second later, they heard a voice.

"Tansr of the Jarlot Fiftieth. Lance Corporal! I don't know if there are other survivors, but you must come help!" the man seemed to be waving. The space marines advanced, following Draconis' lead, and running quickly to close the distance.

"Tansr. I am Draconis Falzone... What happened?"

"Sir, chaos cultists attacked... Led by Black Templars." Draconis interrupted.

"So, it's true then. Tigurio was here..."

"I suppose sir. I did not hear who, just that marines from the chapter were here... When I'd first heard they'd been spotted, I thought it was a blessing from the Emperor that they showed up just when the cultists attacked. But, then I heard on the vox that they were leading the attack..."

"Get to the point. What happened?" Tigurio repeated.

"I was on patrol when the assault started. Hours from the settlement. While en-route to assist the counter offensive, my Leman Russ was blasted to Vord and all my with it." Draconis noticed the guardsman's armor bore battle scars, but his rebreather mask, gloves and various other gear did not. "Some form of orbital bombardment. Never seen bombs so powerful. I'd thought the settlement leveled, but I guess it's not all crater, as you can see..." He looked around. Draconis knelt and placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Do you know anything about what they were after, why they attacked... why they razed a planet with such a small population?"

"I might, sir. But I cannot walk much further. My rebreather's low, and there were none left in the bunker..."

"Where is this bunker?"

"It's on the hill... We use it to store arms and equipment. It's where I got the stimm kits and med gear to fix meself up. I'm hurt too, sir. Just, don't take my mask until I'm dead. You'll see, I was burnt in the bombing. Didn't hide in that bunker. I'm no coward." He let a bit of pride slip out with that.

"Can you walk?" Draconis asked. Tansr shook his head.

"The pain killer's wearing off now. Guess I was just meant to give you that scrap of help before going to Him."

"We have a small supply of medical and rebreather kit, if you wish to keep fighting for the Emperor." Draconis offered. He hated letting such men of honor cease their service to the Emperor.

"Doesn't matter. I told you. I'm burned up. I barely felt it when I crawled from my Russ, but" He gasped for air, Draconis tried to attach his personal rebreather, the guardsmen held out a hand as if to say "stop". "I made it to the bunker, saw myself and almost died then. Don't waste a bolt shell on me though. As the pain killers wear off, I'll just go into shock and die in my sleep..." He said with a hint of cynicism.

"You have served the Emperor well, brother Tansr." With that, Draconis snapped the man's neck with his hands, gently laying the corpse to the ground.

"What was the point? He told us where the supplies were, not what the Black Marshal was after..." The marine next to Draconis asked.

"The point was that he did tell us where the supply bunker was, but that he also didn't fail to do his appointed duties. If the Imperium had more guardsmen like him, the Imperium would be strong indeed. We go to this bunker, and survey the landscape."

The Imperial Fists traversed the rocky slope, through ruin and rubble. They reached an area aparently untouched by the bombardment.

"Void shield." Draconis remarked. "I am not entirely surprised. Perhaps the only reason there was a garrison at all on this world is due to the ancient technologies built here." Stepping through the entrance, Draconis found a port to access the logic engines of the facility. He tapped some runes, plugged in his armor's sensor array, and uploaded onto his personal mainframe a map of the local geography.

"Let us observe the land from the top of this hill." He decided. As they climbed the hill, the brothers turned about from time to time to allow Draconis to compare the 3-D topographical in his HUD to the actual lay of the land. Finally, near the crest of the hill, he saw it. They all saw it. A gaping hole in the ground just outside the settlement. A mine, whose surface had collapsed, causing a deep black shaft to appear. The HUD verified the location as a mine, and Draconis shared this information with the squad.

"There is no reason to bombard this settlement so severely unless there was something hid at the base of that mine." He stated.

"Indeed, but we will still not know what it was." A brother marine spoke up.

"I think the fact we know it was there is more paramount to the end result of our jouney. Something my uncle took. Something I must take back, or more likely... destroy." The squad relocated downhill as Draconis pondered his thoughts, finding a clearing, he voxed the sword class frigate. Announcing he was ready for Thunderhawk retrieval.

Offline Necris

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #9 on: May 04, 2010, 12:18:05 AM »
His Thunderhawk had cut in low using the blindside of the Moon they had dropped into the planets atmosphere they burned on the tight angle of approach cutting a pair of twinned streaks through the sky before levelling out and gunning across the landscape.

Within the lead Thunderhawk Nero sat locked into his harness looking across the deck at the small figure oposite Orin was wraith thin his body little more that skeleton with flesh his white robes marked him as belonging to the Legio but compared to the normal members he was frail yet of all the Legio Nero held him in the closest confidence, his face was strained as the gunship banked.

"What do you see?"

"Ties of blood, one who seeks to undo the other who seeks to bring an end."

He nodded as the rest of his men looked upon them.

"Can you see what happened here?"

"An ancient evil, locked away and hidden from the universe, not released from it's prison but the prison moved I think I can follow it should I be given chance to consult the cards."

"Good, the rest of you make ready for touchdown I want a sweep lets see if this bastard left anything behind."

The thunderhawks screamed over the landscape from the cockpit the pilot a marine named Pavos voxed back to him.

"I have contacts, ten of them they look like Fists. Orders to engage?"

"Negative just land and be ready to depart immediately on our return."

The thunderhawk banked again then fell the landing thrusters kicking in as the gunship touched down. He was on his feet instantly moving to the embankment ramp and out into the world, as he strode down the ramp he sniffed the air before sliding his helm over his head and locking it into place 
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Offline Koval

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #10 on: May 04, 2010, 12:39:56 PM »
"It's not quite that simple," I reminded him. "Like I said, I'm only a soldier. I carry only limited favour with Khorne's generals, and I can't personally guarantee you anything beyond my own sword-arm. Rest assured, though, your aims are inextricably connected with our own, and I suppose I am permitted to tell you one thing about the Endless Legion."

"You've mentioned them already," noted Tigurio, "but you're the first servant of Khorne to tell me of an Endless Legion."

"What are the legions of Khorne, if not endless?" I grinned. "Any attempt to translate the proper name of Khorne's grand army into human languages would just create pointless melodrama, and simply naming them in the Dark Tongue would probably make your eyes melt. The Eldar have an adequate expression but the human form cannot reproduce Lam-Eldannar, so a euphemism must suffice."

"So you cannot support me?"

"I didn't say that, I simply said I can personally guarantee you very little. But one of the generals is keeping a very close eye on you, naturally through me, and is watching you on Khorne's behalf. Should he approve of your actions, then he will have fewer reservations about assigning the Legion of Nine Walls to assist you. The bloodier your campaign, the more troops you will have. I understand this will grow exponentially with every show of support he makes, by simple virtue of having more swords with which to shed blood."

I gestured with my chainsword, and subtly shifted my coat to reveal more weapons. "For now, though, you need to impress him with your ambition alone. Barring your own contributions, you have little more than myself and that at your disposal."

You will treat me with respect, serf.

"You're the one that got sealed in a cup, not me," I reminded the chalice. "Rest assured, you're perfectly at liberty to cross blades with me if I should fail to impress you by the time you're out of there."

See to it that your skill at arms can at least stand up to your meagre wit.

"Indeed. Now then, Tigurio, I suppose that's enough banter. Shall we get to work?"

Offline Necris

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #11 on: May 04, 2010, 02:32:53 PM »
They spread out weapons held ready Brak walked at his side his axe rumbling on idle as they strode through the dust, Orin followed behind the marines pulling a rebreather onto his face. He looked across at the marines in his war party, Brak had cleaned his armour recently the old blood marks had been removed so the armour was bone white his helm a brilliant blue, beside Brak walked Tass his armour of dull brushed metal he stooped dragging his hand through the ground lifting it he examined the flecks before discarding it.

"Magma bombs, Falzone sought to cover his tracks well."

"He didn't do a well enough job, the mine entrance is over there."

Growled Sol as he stepped past them his armour darkened to an oily black with gold trimming, he pointed at a ruined mine shaft, Sol's eyes were the best of them all sharp and detailed his long element sword hung at his hip while he held a finely worked and detailed bolter, swinging the weapon he gestured round at the world.

"Such a waste of life."

Brak scoffed waving his axe after Sol.

"A waste of ammunition, this world was little threat they could have butchered the populace by hand."

"Typical of a World Eater focus only on the slaughter."

"Watch your tongue Emperor's Child lest I cut it out."

The two glared at one another before a blue armour marine steppe between them.

"The pair of you are not helping matters, Nero say something."

"The legions always had their animosities, who am I to deny their natures Paval?"

Paval sighed as they marched towards the mine shaft, he looked at the group and the different armour colours from a half dozen legions he looked down at his own armour from the Alpha Legion and he thought back to the circumstances which had brought him into Nero's service. Realising he'd fallen behind he pushed the thoughts from his memories and moved to keep up, Nero turned looking at him.

"Problems Paval?"

"Nothing Captain, just memories coming back to me."

"We all have them Paval, just don't let them distract you from our goal, the Fists as close by and we can ill afford to engage in a battle with them on the ground."
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Offline Draco Silverhand

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #12 on: May 05, 2010, 09:19:20 AM »
Draconis moved swiftly towards the exposed mine shaft, his men moving through the ruins deftly, while also keeping their alertness to their surroundings.

"Fellow marines." He said as he pressed a button on his bracer's vox controls, "Identify yourselves. This is Draconis Argentus Falzone, of the Imperial Fists. I have authorization to engage any force not in compliance with my investigation. This authority comes from the Imperial Fist chapter master, and any hostilities will be met with retaliation from the sons of Dorn."

"Feeling a little brazen, aren't you?" Came a reply over the vox. "I am Nero, whether you know of me or not is irrelevant. I am not here to engage you in combat. I am accompanied by Inquisitorial forces, and you will respect their authority. Meet me by the entrance to the mine."

"Very well. Falzone out." Draconis and his men continued to stride across the ruins at pace, and approached Nero's forces with bolters at the ready, but not aimed directly at the other marines.

"You can order your men to stand down. I have mine." Nero stated flatly. With a wave of his hand, Draconis' squad lowered their weapons. "So..." Nero began, "You're the blood tied, seeking to undo the one seeking to bring an end..." His words seemed to trail for a moment.

"I have been dispatched to kill my great uncle, Tigurio Falzone. Yes. But why would another chapter be involved? Especially one with no apparent ties to the Imperial Fists, or indeed any sons of Dorn?" Draconis asked.

"I am here because I must be." Nero said simply. "As are you. So, tell me, what do you know so far?"

"Knowledge is power, guard it well." Draconis said flatly. "I would ask you the same, but I feel you would give just as veiled an answer. Seeing as your company appears to be comprised of men in pre-Heresy traitor legion colors. Blue and White, of the World Eaters. Brushed iron of the death guard. Black and Gold of the Emperor's Children? It seems you have with you immortal loyalists from Excommunicate Traitorus chapters." His last words came out with a hint of venom. His hand resting solidly on his sword hilt.

"While I am sure the Inquisition has reason to be involved," he continued after a second, "I still have to wonder why an Inquisitor would attach himself to your... chapter." Draconis turned his gaze to the Inquisitor in question, the cold glare of his helmet catching the man off guard for a second, before he remembered it was just the snarl all space marine helmets were crafted to wear. "While on the subject. What is your name?"

"Orin Lomak." The man answered, no fear or hesitation. Meant he was built of sterner stuff than the average Imperial.

"I need to find out if Tigurio left any clues in the caverns below." Draconis spoke after a moment, his wording careful, he did not want to discredit his previous distrust of this cavalcade. "I am no psyker, however. If there is any trace of psy energy, do you have a means of recording or interpreting it?"



"Indeed." Tigurio strode from the launch bay, where his thunderhawk had landed aboard his strike cruiser. "Follow me." He said over his shoulder.

Tigurio led the way down the winding halls of his ship, into another bay. An internal holding chamber, lined with all manner of sigils, runes and glyphs. Many of them glowing with power. The air was musky and thick, like breathing a viscous liquid, instead of a gas. The stench was of cinnamon and rotting bread, and stepping past the threshold, Tigurio felt heavy, as if he was weighed down by weighted chains from the inside. Even Agares found the room slightly unpleasant, though for different reasons. Agares found the room to smell of lilacs and ocean breeze, while he felt weightless... as if his insides were being flung about uncontrollably through the air.

"What is this?" Agares asked, his physical form about to vomit. "A holding tank?" His voice incredulous. Tigurio turned to him and grinned.

"My motivation is only a part of the plan. My method is on the whole, the greater part of this." Tigurio chuckled quietly. "Here. See the first of my allies from the Warp..." He held up a hand towards a stasis field. Despite being active, the occupant was hardly still. The face was constantly changing, the limbs moving... All six arms and both legs. "Daemonhost... Of a sort. But what manner, I will not bother explaining to you now. All I can say is it is not truly a host of daemons, but instead of the remnants of the souls that become daemons. The minds of men long dead, whose thoughts and personalities remain unique, despite having been amalgamated into daemon forms. I... dissect the whole to glean from the part what I need... I cannot do this with a greater daemon, but many warp beasts... not yet affiliated with a specific chaos god... many of these can be summoned, split and moulded to a will..."

"Interesting." Was all Agares said, still fighting queasiness.

"Now you, Thirst Quencher, I have a gift... Of sorts. Nothing much right now, but it should hold you over until later." Tigurio set the skull goblet atop a pedestal made of bronze and black obsidian, he walked to the door, brought in a train of slaves on a chain. A radiant wave of hunger swept the room as the goblet sensed Tigurio's intent. The first of eight slaves, he slit the throat of the man, blood spattering the goblet and spraying into the cup. The blood that landed on the outside quickly disappeared, as if it had been absorbed by a sponge. The next slave's blood boiled before Tigurio could get her to the chalice. She exploded, and Tigurio felt a sense of amusement emanating from the sword on his hilt. "You'll have your fun soon enough, Vksan'thdknar..." He growled, and at the mention of the name, the goblet began to boil.

You dare bring that frail thing before me!? the room trembled for a second. I'll have no part in the plot that involves Slaanesh! Tigurio paused for a moment.

"Then I suppose I should send these slaves to a Slaaneshi daemonworld. Along with the other thousands of slaves aboard my ship." He said it like he meant it.

Do not deny me, Tigurio. You must prove your ambitions to Agares' commanders, but I am a General in Khorne's Endless Legion. You will not trifle with me.

"Then, do not trifle with me." He said simply, before swinging the daemonsword, containing the essence of Vksan'thdknar, and decapitating the remaining six slaves in one swing. Collecting their heads, he dropped each one into the massive chalice's opening. Each skull boiled and rendered, even the bones melted. Translating over to the Warp, where they would join the endless skulls for the skull throne of Khorne.

"All hands. Brace for Impact." A claxon began to wail.

"What the devil?" Agares looked around startled, and a bit agitated.

"Asteroid belt..." Tigurio explained calmly. "Only way to gain access to my next objective is through realspace. I need to collect samples zombie plague. The only world still infected is surrounded by an asteroid belt. Though I'd expected more time between translating into the warp and back out just now...

"All hands to battle stations."

"Not what I had in mind. Oh well, let's go Agares. Let the whine gobblet think to himself whether he will abide in my tactics while we handle the real problem." As they left the room, a growling was heard, emanating from the chalice.

"Master... the Imperial fleet... they are attacking each other... We just barely missed a stray torpedo salvo that is on its way out system. We have cover in the asteroids. Shall I hold here?" Tigurio's vox crackled with the transmission.

"Negative. Proceed on objective." The ship exited the asteroid belt. The Imperial Fleets scattered as they identified the Black Templars strike cruiser, and realized just what might be happening. "Fire a warning shot at both fleets." He ordered. "Then bring us close enough to make orbital assault. Ready my full company!"

Tigurio had accquired much through piracy in the few years since his treason in the Silver Heresies. He had killed many loyalist marines in order to accquire the parts his techmarines demanded to fabricate repairs to the terminator suits and dreadnoughts in his command. The marines who'd previously piloted the Dreadnoughts had since perished, but the iron hulls remained in tact, and Tigurio had since committed two relatively insane space marines to the task of re-animating the twin dreadnoughts.

"Lord. Incoming transmission." One of his marines voxed. "The governor of the planet."

"Ignore it. We have nothing to gain by talking with them. Focus on securing the search zone, and bomb everything around it to ruin. If the fleets attack as one, they'll stop once I threaten exterminatus.

"Very well, Lord Marshall." The marine replied.

"Now, Agares, care to help me find the source of the zombie plague on planet Danid?"

Offline Necris

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    • The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' PLog
Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #13 on: May 05, 2010, 04:10:29 PM »
Nero smiled Orin was playing his part well, though where he'd plucked the name Lomak form was anyone's guess, in fact Nero had never heard Orin's surname before he'd simply be Orin, psyker, trusted advisor etc.

He looked at the young pup, typical of the Fists send a child to do a man's task he almost laughed as he stepped forward un-phased by the pups hand on his sword.

"True enough lad, we are the last of the loyalists from the traitor legions, we make no secret of that singular fact, I have at my disposal, Death Guard, World Eater, Emperors Children, Luna Wolves and Alpha Legion, I have others who answer my call, but I am here for one reason, your uncle's fate has drawn my attention he seeks to rise in the favour of the gods become their champion, should he achieve this he'll rival Abaddon in power."

He spat the last name with a vemon of hate and sorrow.

"But you are a pup in a man's game, Leave this business to us boy we've had enough years to practice our trade."

He turned his back on Draconis issue orders as he strode through the gathered marines, while they were equal in number Nero had no fear of the pup he strode to Brak and leant in.

"Summon your hounds."

Brak nodded and spoke his voice transmitting through the squads vox link.

"Hounds to me."

He revved his chain axe in a show of hostility stepping forward.

"I have more marines that you sergeant, we have more experience and  trust me when I say we are tougher and more resilient. You are a pup, a child in our eyes yet Brak will have no regrets should you force our hand, we do not seek conflict with the Imperium but our linage makes us enemies so the choice is yours, stand down or die."

He stepped past Sol who drew his singled edged sword slowly for show, Tass and Paval likewise readied their weapons as did the rest of the guard.

"I for one am taking Orin here into this mine, he feels he'll be able to tell us where your uncle is."

The roaring sound of jump echoed over the stillness of the world and Brak's hounds fell from the sky a dozen World Eater assault marines weapons ready and thirsty formed semi circle round the fists.

"You choice Draconis." 
This here is my very favourite gun...I call her rita.

The Order of the Iron Rose - Necris' Inq28 Plog

Offline Draco Silverhand

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Re: Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion
« Reply #14 on: May 06, 2010, 12:03:59 PM »
"Pup or not," Draconis took his hand off his sword, as he took a step towards Nero, "I will not be left behind. Tigurio Falzone is my great uncle. I am honor bound to retrieve him for trial in a court of the sons of Dorn. In stasis or a body bag, it matters not to me." He paused to let it sink in for a second before continuing.

"You wear the colors of pre-heresy traitor legions. The colors they wore when they were loyal servants to the Emperor, before whatever madness took them. If I cannot deduce anything else about you, I can at least guess that you would have killed me by now if you were traitors. I can also guess that you wear those colors as a badge of honor as much as shame, in a manner of speaking. Your legion is traitor, yet you are not. Proud of what you are, but atoning for the sins of your brothers. Yes, I am a pup, but I know honor when I see it. I merely ask that you share your findings and let me observe your investigation." Draconis stopped. He didn't know where the speech came from. He was not in the chapter's Reclusiam, nor much the diplomatic type. Nevertheless, he hoped his words would at least sway these ancient marines to let him tag along.



Danid. Planet surface. Tigurio stood on the third story balcony of an Arbiter precinct tower. The city had been ravaged by civil war. Streets choked with barricades, smoking pyres and toppled steeples. He grinned, surveying the carnage wrought on the world by its own peoples. The zombie plague here had festered and spread at a rapid rate, leading to mass hysteria, suicidal cults and outcries of the apocalypse. But as always, it was not the end of all life, just the end of millions of Imperial citizens who deserved little better than death.

"So we consume ourselves in our panic, tear ourselves from the inside. Such weakness disgusts me." Tigurio said to the open air. His entourage had spread through the city. A thousand cultists and half a hundred space marines. They encountered Imperial forces, some that ran, others that opened fire. All were gunned down, or torn to pieces by the Black Knights. Tigurio had found it only fitting, if he was to be the Black Marshal, he would have to give a name fitting to his chapter of barely a hundred marines. "The Black Knights" was as fitting a name as any, and even had a nice ring to it.

"Squad Hexric." He activated his vox comms. "Report."

"Lord, the Imperials avoid this block. While most of the guardsmen will flee in other areas of the city, when we encounter patches of these pathetic soldiers here, they stand and fight, but I've looked them in the eye. They're not resolute, fearless or even stubborn... They're terrified. Something scares them more than death by our hands."

"Understood. Hold position, I am en route." Tigurio stepped from the balcony. This had been too easy. Far too easy, considering his objective... Surely, if the Imperium would not, some other force, the Eldar per se, would have intervened by now. But as he made his way to the Land Raider in the streets, nothing, not even a sneak attack from the guardsman who had been hiding in the stairwell with a meltabomb strapped to his chest, could stop Tigurio, it seemed. As if the galaxy wanted this to happen.

He boarded the behemoth tank, his personal retinue of terminator-armored marines waiting patiently inside. The driver followed the signal from Brother Hexric's squad, and after moments of rolling over corpses, rubble and barricades, the front hatch clanged open, and Tigurio stepped out. Hexric approached, his squad of cultists hanging back, some in awe, some respect, and one or two out of fear.

"Lord Marshal. The Imperial dogs seem to be falling back to this area, but no closer to that building than where we stand." Hexric stated. "Daren and Imaud both confirmed. They can't seem to get a guardsmen squad to come within fifty meters of that spire. I believe it to be some manner of chant broadcaster, which would call them to daily supplications. My auspex reads an anomaly... Warp energies, possibly."

"Thank you, Hexric. Order your men to stand by, and be prepared to move out when I give the signal." He strode past the marine and his cult squad, heading straight for the spire. As he approached, his third eye opened, and bathed the inside of his helm in a soft purple.

Ilblyadlk... Ublrkill... Hassabiilithak khiitnrafkdta! A sibilant hiss echoed in the back of his mind. Go away, harbinger and destroyer of worlds! Go away! The voice now spoke in Low Gothic. I am not ready for this world to die... Tigurio opened the door to the spire. He was met with a rank and fetid odor that even his helmet could not cover.

"I am here, because I must be. And you are here, because it is your purpose. I come to give you new purpose. To renew your reason to infect and corrupt! I am here to bring your gifts to many worlds!" Tigurio spoke into the dank dark. As he said this, he heard shuffling from the stairwell. A priest - hunched and sickly looking, bloated with decay, coagulated blood dripping from his mouth - stepped from the stairs, and shuffled towards Tigurio. The man hefted a great chainsword which he dragged for several steps. Tigurio watched with curiosity. The priest zombie finally lifted the heavy sword and charged, half-screaming as it sought to bring the sword down on Tigurio's head. A bolter shell into the zombie's face saw the priest's body slump to the ground, the sword planting itself halfway down his back. Tigurio looked down on it, and grinned, gripping the blade by the handle. "Thanks."

As he said this, acolyte zombies came from nearby rooms, shuffling and moaning, each weilding some manner of knife, claw or other manual blade. Tigurio clicked the sword's rune of activation and swept the blade through the first acolyte's neck, before bringing it down onto the second. A third lunged for Tigurio's throat, blade outstretched, while the acolyte zombie put its center of balance too far forward. Tigurio swung the sword up, cutting off the zombie's arm before bringing it back down again, planting the zombie face first into the ground, with the sword in its spine. Even so, the zombie reached for Tigurio's leg with its other arm and Tigurio stomped its head just as a fourth and fifth zombie were upon him. He punched one in the face, and grabbed the other by its head, crushing skull and lifting dead weight before spinning around and hurling both bodies at the oncoming school of acolytes and hopefuls who had huddled in the chapel during the first hours of the zombie plague. The nearest were knocked back, but he could see more zombies, most unarmed, shambling towards him, as he aclimated to the gloom.

Tigurio looked to the stairs. His third eye seemed focused on them, but he looked back at the zombie masses, and felt the need to unwind overwhelm the urgency to complete this mission. Tigurio pulled two grenades, pulverizing the nearest zombie faces with his elbows as he pulled the pins on both, lobbed them into the fray and then drew the daemonsword on his belt, activating its power rune, and slicing through the first two rows of acolytes and civilians before the grenades blew up. He roared with satisfaction as he tore into the shambling masses. The need to annihilate and vent his frustrations more urgent than the need to accquire the source of the plague.

Five minutes passed, and just as many hundred zombies lay dead. With the masses tended to, the Black Marshal decided to deal with the source. He climbed the steps of the spire, around and around they went, up and up. Finally a landing, a door, and as he stepped through it, the top of the tower, from where he could survey the entire city, and given the right winds, poison it... That's it. He thought. The zombie plague originated here.

Well done, Tigurio Falzone, Marshal of the Black Knights... You're not as dumb as you look, but you cannot simply take Nurgle's gifts. They must be given. So tell me, Black Marshal. Why should I give the gifts of Nurgle to you?

"Because I will use His gifts well." Tigurio answered simply. "And because if you do not, I will burn this world."

And if I give you the key?

"I will unlock the door." Tigurio said, though in retrospect, he didn't know why. He didn't even recall thinking the words... They just came out.

Very well. I bestow my gift to you. The disembodied voice seemed to localize, and as Tigurio's third eye followed it, so did his real eyes, finding a dagger laying on the floor. Tigurio walked over and picked it up.

"So, what shall I call you?"

Nachtsterben

"Very well, Nacthsterben." He hitched the dagger's sheath to his belt, opposite the sword, and descended to his men. "Let's go." He said.

As they departed, he ordered his ship's gunners to annihilate the Imperial fleet ships in a manner that would cause their bodies to crash back into Danid within a day. Lance batteries and magma bombs struck shield and engine, causing several ships to list back towards the planet. With a departing kiss of death, Tigurio ordered a salvo of magma bombs to wipe out the city they had just visited.

You promied not to kill the planet...

"I did not. I merely threatened to destroy it if you didn't assist me."

I will not forget this.

"Don't overdramaticize your losses. What little daemonic presence was on the world will still exist in a thousand years, and the world itself is simply going to suffer. A lot. The skies will darken, the world will quake with the impact of the ships, but your prescious world will live on. In darkness."

Very well. Human. But make no mistake. I will make you suffer if you fail.

"I will not fail." Was all Tigurio said, as he looked out the viewport. I cannot fail. He thought grimly to himself, closing his mind to outside forces so he could introspect. I cannot fail, because I serve the Emperor.