NationStates Jolt Archive

The Imperiums goal; uniting mankind, was still in its infancy. Throughout the Universe, the Imperium suveys worlds, preparing for the day when it will bring the ways of the Emperor to them; when it will unite them against the coming days of Chaos and darkness...It is the goal of every Imperial Guardsman, Space Marine and Inquisitors throughout the galaxy, to bring this revelation to worlds unadvanced, to systems uncivilised....To bring them forward, into a New Era.
The Age of the Imperium....Has began.

When the people cry out for a leader, the star gods shall descend upon them as angel upon heretics, the weak shall be purged before the holy flame, thus will the herald, of a new era

-Excerpt from the Prophecies of the people

The people in the square moved about their daily business in the grand 3-kilometre square, filthy 1800s architecture rimming the huge cobbled clearing. A large stone fountain sat in the middle of the square, coated in muck, children played in it and ran about while traders yelled to one another, bartering and screaming.

No one was prepared what was about to happen next, a distant boom of engines began to drift into the square, the distant boom began to fade into a very close roar, by now nearly every head in the square was looking towards the grey sky overhead, a pale blue began to pierce the thick grey cloud.

The pale blue began turn a cyan fire, the clouds were parting and burning before the blue flame, people began to flee the square and those that remained stood, heads craned to the sky with a look of awe.

By now, something had been detected entering Kriegos air space…seemingly from space, a Kriegos Death Korp team was dispatched, 3 Bradley’s moved into the square stopping near the fountain before disgorging troops, 30 KDK moved out and began to take position.

The Kriegos civilians fled, whatever warranted a KDK visit was never something to see, people fled and screamed as terrified mothers and fathers scooped children up. Within seconds the square was empty except for the Kriegos Death Korp.

The metal leviathan pierced through the clouds, bright black and silver ship began to descend, it was huge mass of metal, it hadn’t relented spouting blue flame from it’s rear, the air crackled and popped where the flame touched.

It landed, huge steel hydraulic legs began to unfurl from the belly of the steel beast, crushing cobble, sending shrapnel flying. A titanic steel door began to open, pouring white light out into the darkness that the clouds normally ensured wasn’t broken, today however, a bright shaft of sunlight came through the hole that the flames had left behind, illuminating the ship in a rich, yellow light.

Hah’kin breathed heavily inside the confines of his gasmask, condensation began to form on the glass of his mask. Hah’kin heard a deep boom…then another boom until he counted no less than five booms, as they drew closer, he made them out to be footsteps contacting with a steel surface while a metal ramp began to descend from the ship until it scraped on cobbles, at which time it stopped.

Hah’kin stood, leaning into his AK74, he was in the second row, the standing row, he peered down in front of him to see the kneeling soldiers with their rifles shouldered, the Bradley’s behind swivelled their cannons towards the doorway…

Five dark silhouettes began to appear in the bright light that came from the ship’s doorway. They began to make their way the steel ramp, full booms began to follow in the path of the titans that were striding down the ramp, gold adornments were glinting in the pale white light, contrasting the dark black armour.

Hah’kin saw them, holding dark black weapons that were adorned with a silver barrel and clip along with other precision parts. Hah’kin yelled “OPEN FIRE!” and the squad’s weapons kicked into life, bullets whizzed out of barrels and ate the distance between them and the space marines eagerly, grenades flew out under-slung grenade launchers.

Hah’kin held the AK74; breathing heavily, the rifle clacked empty over and over while Hah’kin’s finger kept the trigger down, his eyes transfixed on the smoke.

”CLEAR” Hah’kin yelled nervously, he then heard something from within the smoke, a deep resounding boom came from within the smoke and the trooper next to him was thrown back against a nearby Bradley, his back exploded halfway in the movement, dark crimson painted the grey tank.

Hah’kin fell to his knees while the men next to him exploded, blood spattering the tanks and then leaking into the cracks between the cobblestones, red puddles began to appear in the twisted mass of men.

Hah’kin pulled off his gasmask, he collapsed, his hands holding him up from a puddle of blood. Hah’kin sat. And sobbed alone among the bodies of his comrades, contorted into foul shapes by the daemonic weapons brought by these monstrosities of flesh and iron.

The booms continued, a huge black and silver beast appear from the swirling smoke, followed by four other huge shapes, Hah’kin held his head low, peering into the puddle of his comrades’ blood, a shadow appeared over him, a deep voice rumbled “Heretic, you have opposed the tools of the Imperium, may the Emperor have mercy upon your soul.” The crying Hah’kin was sobbing violently as he drew himself up to his height of 6”, a mere half of what this behemoth was standing at, the bald head that looked down on him sent a chill down Hah’kin’s spine, a tube connected to the side of the beast’s head, huge steel armour encased the beast completely, leaving only a shattered contortion of human features for Hah’kin to see..

”Burn in hell you foul beast,” Hah’kin spat before the bolt round sent the back of his skull flying into the nearby Bradley along with a jet of crimson blood and brain matter, Hah’kins body sagged to the ground before being quashed by a titanic, mechanical steel foot.

The new era had begun.

Beginnings...Births...Are always painful; the world was no different.
Since the initial battle; where the fools of the KDK had been laid low by Imperial might; Space Marines had spread out.

Bullets flew and bombs went off; Space Marines drove chainswords brutally through rebel chests; Dreadnoughts crushed men alive; flames annointed the streets and blood baptised the cobblestones.

It was a time of war.
A time of great terror and tragedy as man fought man; brother fought brother...And this was but one city.

A Psyker sat, perched, silently above the city; watching the night ring out with shots and flames. He smiled lightly.
"We are agents of the great Imperium; we are borthers of these unenlightened savages....We are the bringers of Order and the destroyers of Heresy." He paused, wiping sweat from his brow; the nights were cold, cloying almost; yet the fires of the battles made him boil within his armor, hungering for more.
"We shall know victory."

High Inquistorial Lord Matthias was in a state of shock, he didn't understand what was going on. Matthias turned to a sweating adjutant in the war room, "What exactly is GOING ON!" Matthias bellowed, "Sir! I don't know, we've heard rumours of iron men, steel giants and the like. Its ridiculous!" Matthias hoped it was some cruel hoax, but he had a feeling in his gut, the feeling he got when things were about to go wrong, he had it before Kili'kuk, he was having it now, albeit ten times worse.

Kernun screamed as he saw one of his life long friends; Hamus, impaled on a chainblade, the whirring teeths bit into flesh and bone alike, spattering the Dark Space Marine with crimson fluid, all the while the man atop the blade writhed and screamed.

Kernun charged at the beast, holding his work sledgehammer with two hands, he screamed as he brought the hammer in a simple arc, the hammer smashed into the golden eagle that adorned the iron beast's chest plate. The beast lowered his chain blade; with ease not born of a normal man, and allowed the corpse to slide off, Hamus's intestines spilled out onto the cobbles, a mix of blood and stomach acid began to sink into the cobble stones.

The beast's helmetted head turned, red glass hid eyes that fumed with rage, how dare the heretic touch the sacred insignia of the holy eagle! The iron clad beast backhanded the frail man into a stone wall with a hand clothed in a steel gauntlet.

Kernun's head rang, he could taste blood in his mouth and he heard the resounding boom...the boom that Hamus had heard before he was claimed, the began to sob just as he was encompassed by a shadow, the beast stooped and plucked up the man by his head, one mammoth fist enveloping the Kernun's tiny skull.

The iron beast turned the man around to face him, tears welled up in it's eyes. Weak creature and this cretin had the audacity to try and damage the sacred eagle!

Kernun near the end was near, he felt darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision, luring him to give in, he was at the final choice, to hold on or give in...give in to eternal bliss.

It wasn't his choice, the steel cloven hand contracted, crushing the poor mans head into a bloody pulp, brain matter and the cracked remains of the skulls oozed through the iron beast's fingers, he allowed the body to fall, bone cracked the shattered man collapsed to the ground, his neck had no head to mount and thus the crown of the spine was visible, along with the frail neck bones but by now, the beast had simply wiped the bloody remains on his left thigh before moving on to find another victim.

Chaos rained, Kriegorgrad was never a nation for change and right now, it was in it's death throes and the pains of birth.

The Psyker; Grand Inquisitor Raine Deimos, moved through the streets, flanked by heavily armored marines. The golden eagle glimmering against dark metal skin.
They moved through the streets; now silent, moving through the alleyways and mainroads of the city, pausing in the centre.
A statue held a flag high, a mark of independence, a sign of hope...
The Inquisitor raised his power hammer and swung; watching the figure become dust.
"A new order has come; let us sweep away the old."
"Yes, lord"
"I want you to bring me something; the leaders of this place."
"Aye.."
"I want them here; on their knees, that they may accept the Emperors judgement, or yield to his wrath"
"It shall be done my lord."
"And Marine?"
"Yes, Lord Inquisitor?"
"Make it slow....Make an impression."
"Yes sir." He almost chuckled inside his armor; running a hand along his bolter. "in his name, shall it be done. By his will, shall we triumph."
"What is your weapon?"
"Will!"
"What is your armor?"
"Faith!"
"Then go forth and purge!"

OOC: Should you not know what the acronyms are, go Here. (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=7340764#post7340764)

IC: Within hours, Krieg was over-ran by the iron beasts, Kriegos soldiers and civilians were butchered where they stood, the majority hid in their homes and didn't even try stop the rampaging monsters. That didn't stop them being found, marines splintered doors with the swing of a fist before storming in and murdering those inside.

Kriegor Zan Varr sat on his dark marble throne, he looked at the large clump of scribes and other erudite individuals; usually squawking and yelling, were silent, the reason a few of them did remain was because of the Grand Inqusitiorial Lord Matthias's presence, without him they would've fled long before now, they heard the gunshot and booms outside and, they were scared. Kriegor got out of the throne and halfway down the throne room to look up at the skylight, revealing a large hole disgorging sunlight.

Kriegor sat, he heard the booms, he hoped that some miracle would save him and Kriegorgrad, he'd soon learn, that hope was not enough.

Ker'kyul flipped over the last table, a large array of wooden tables had been scrounged from various grand halls and bedrooms. They had formed a makeshift barricade of tables and chairs facing the main doorway, a mix of KDK, KST and some KEF soldiers were facing the door, a few servants that were brave enough stood by the soldiers.

Ker'kyul began to hear the boom, the thunder from afar that resounded, Ker'Kyul's blood began to turn to ice as he a shiver flew down his spine, he turned to see the servants standing nervously, fumbling with the AK47s like some arcane alien device.

Ker'kyul began to breathe heavily, the booms were close now, he yelled "SHOULDER UP!" and the whole group shouldered their weapons, even the servants; albeit clumsily, and the whole group held it's breath, staring intently at the thick, dark oak doors.

No boom came this time, just footsteps, the group kept their weapons shouldered nonetheless. Ker'kyul began to calm down just as the door smashed open, pouring grey light into the relatively dark hall, a lone figure strode in, he held a large warhammer by his side single handed.

Ker'kyul just stood and looked at the man in the golden armour; silver trimmed the ornate designs on the armour, the man strode confidently into the hall as Ker'kyul yelled "OPEN FIRE! OPEN FIRE!" The makeshift squad discharged it's weapons, the AK47's loud barks mingling with the softer cracks of the AK74s.

The muzzle flashes illuminated the room, throwing stark shadows into the crevices of the dark room. Ker'kyul kept firing but the man refused to go down, the bullets seemed to crackle and fizzle before him, suddenly, the man charged, his hammer began to crackle with pale lightning as the hammer flew in a clean arc and sent a KDK squadsman flying across the room, smashing into the wall like a broken sack of flesh.

The chaos that ensued for the next few minutes was too hectic and fast to be effectively described, however, at the end, blood caked the walls corpses filled the wide corridor, blood already soaking into the black marble tiles, many were cracked and shattered.

The man that held the hammer simply held up a hand, the iron men swarmed in over the smashed remains of the makeshift barricade and crushing organs, flesh and bone beneath steel feet.

Kriegor stood in front of his throne, a small group of the KDK had remained here to defend Kriegor to the death, many of the scribes had slunk off when no-one was looking, Kriegor turned to Matthias and was about speak when a nondescript noise began to fade it, the noise began to change to roar...someting was approaching the palace at a very high speed...from above.

A Drop-Pod shattered the ceiling, hurtling from the heavens; glass rained down upon those in the main hall of the palace...
In midair the sides of the pod burst open and the Marines inside opened fire; a sinister shower of bolter shells and energy poured upon the unfortunates below, as the Hammer Wielding Inquisitor brought his weapon down on the heretics who surged and thronged at him.
"Yield...." His mind cried out at them.
"Yield to the Imperium and know order, prosperity and power."
"We are the hand of the most honored Emperor. We are his fist; join us or die!"

The marines surged forward; chainswords whirring and bolters blazing; hurling themselves into battle with a zealous devotion to the hunt. They were his hand, his fists; They were as Gods among mere mortals, and angels among the common horde. This was their life; their warrior spirit driven to excess by the bloodthirst and throng of battle. How could this be evil in his name? They were his Space Marines; they would know no fear.

Kriegor saw 3/4 of his men lying dead in various positions about the room, only 1/4 remained, the ones who had their hands over their heads, kneeling face down, he saw the foul wounds that the weapons had inflicted.

Master Kriegor Zan Varr, Keeper of Kriegorgrad, yielded. Kriegor strode down the long dais that held the throne towards the pool of light from skylight that held the Inquisitor, Matthias followed.

The Inquisitor turned as Kriegor and Matthias approached, the sound a bolters being prepped echoed throughout the silent chamber. Kriegor knelt on one knee before the Inquisitor; he knew what he wanted, with knuckle to forehead.

"I humbly pledge my allegiance by my honour to this great warrior before me, may my blood stain the Earth before any harm comes of him, by blood and honour." Kriegor finished the pledge of allegiance with a sideward glance at Matthias, who began to do say the same pledge, word for word...

The streets of Krieg were stained with, bodies littered the decaying city, space marines swept through the houses, demanding surrenders while dreadnaughts patrolled the streets.

And when the battle is done, the blood of birth shall stain the streets and the darkness of death shall be all but forgotten, the new era will have begun and the world shall be shaken to it's very foundations

-Excerpt from the Prophecies of the people

The Inquisitor raised his power fist and stepped back. Marines laid down their weapons and knelt before him.
"Then today; by the will of the Emperor, we are bound together"
He smiled lightly. "We are united now by blood; kinsman bound by steel and iron and the Emperor's light"
"Will you serve the Imperium with all your heart, and unite this planet? Will you bring to them Imperial Order and Technology? Will you make it a bastion of humanities will?"

"Sadly I can offer nothing more than my personal best, I'll do all I can within my power to see that those ends are met, yet, incompetence is no excuse for failure, I will hope to see it done," Kriegor said, his voice taking on a heavy tone of reverence.

The skylight gave a heavenly aura to the inquisitor and his bodyguards, golden armour glinting in the shaft of sunlight, silver catching the light and sending small beams of light dancing around the room.

"And the Gods brought with them the fires of heaven. They brought forth the strength in men; and carved a nation of steel and stone...They knew no fear; for they were the Angels of the Chosen One."
- From the prophecies of the People.

The Imperium worked to bring prosperity to the world; shattering the old order completely.
Obsolete weapons factories crumbled and in their place rose mighty machine shops and forges, great edifices of the Omnissiah.
In place of fallen heroes or ancient saints; there rose effigys of the God-Emperor and the Primarchs. Great government buildings were annointed with the signs of the Imperial Eagle.

It was a time of change...Marines moved through the streets; along with newly trained and recruited Imperial Guards. They were shown the ways of war; the Bolter, The Powerfist, the Chainsword. They were taught the ways of the Empire; annointed in the name of The Emperor; born again for the Imperium.
Slowly; surely; the world became something of itself again...A world devoted to war.

Krieg was a different city, it was silent, the usual hustle and bustle of the industrial city was gone, the newly founded Imperial Guard made itself known through patrols, soldiers patrolled the city, not exactly sure of what to do, the imperials had offered little in the way of instructions.

Imperial Priests moved through the crowds, spreading the word of the God Emperor of Chronosia, people listened about this saint from beyond the stars with keen interest. Many people had taken to the Imperial Creed with little prompting.

Old statues were torn down, old factories set to flame, new Imperial monuments were put up, mammoth forges stood where age old factories once did, all by the hand of the people underneath the scrutinizing eyes of the Adeptus Astartes.

Kriegorgrad was in it's infancy, the new Kriegorgrad, the Kriegorgrad that worshipped the God Emperor of Chronosia.

Kriegor sat at thick, oakwood table of his study, he was sat on a plain chair, he looked over the distance of the table to the Inquisitor on the other side, Kriegor began to speak cautiously over the expanse, "So...how shall Kriegorgrad be run? We have a successful economy already, the military will soon be...accepting your changes, what shall we change about the nation on the whole?" Matthias sat nearby, his eyes showing a hawkish gleen while a scribe sat nearby, a quill lay idly in an ink pot, ready to be scooped up by the balding man of a scribe.

Kriegorgrad, for the first time in an eternity, was truly changing.

Where the weedy willow once stood, a great oak shall blossom from it's demise. Thus, a new era shall be born out of the ruins of the old and only then will order truly reign.

-The Prophecies of the People

The room almost seemed to shake; the floor echoing with great footfalls, as the doors themselves were burst open.
In strode the Inquisitor; smiling wryly,. as he sat. Glancing about the room; eyes scanning the faces of those assembled.
"Your nation will yield to the might and glory of the Imperium. Your world and its system; will be ordered by the Imperium. Whoever here, once was king or ruler, shall be a regional governor; subject to the Emperor and his will" He moved forward, powerfist seething energy.
"You will be made into a pinnacle of his success; a bastion of his light. You will prepare yourselves....For War"

IC: "What...milord, how are we to prepare for war? What war?" Kriegor said reluctantly, the small torches on the walls offered a pitiful amount of light, the table was covered in maps and reports of papyrus, lithe lines of ink marred the stained plains of beige. Kriegor felt scared; he didn't show it of course, for the first time since he was child. Scared, the only thing that gave him comfort was Matthias's presence, he added an aura of confidence to Kriegor's side.

Matthias sat, seemingly untouched by the events that had transpired days earlier, inside, he was shaken to his very core, Krieg, the famed fortress city, the bastion of Kriegos might, was taken in a matter of days, the Kriegos soldiers had fought bravely and honourably -and died honourably.

Matthias gave Kriegor a mental look of approval, he couldn't show anything but he was impressed by Kriegor's calm demeanour, under the circumstances anyway, most men would break down and sob in the presence of the inquisitor.

"There is always war..." A voice as sharp and dry as nails on a chalkboard. His eyes blazed with divine fury; a gesture from his hand tugged the man from his seat; suspending him in midair; a nimbus of energy blazing about the Inquisitors head.
"The war is everywhere; all around us....Do you understand?"
he dropped him.
"The war has permeated every aspect of our culture. It is the preperation; for uniting human worlds like this one, and for defeating the vile heretics and aliens who would oppose us; who would enslave and defile all humanity...Is that what you want? To be presided over by some Xeno Warlord?"

Matthias's eyes nearly leapt out of his head, Kriegor Zan Varr was ripped out of his seat and held in mid-air with nothing attached whatsoever, Kriegor looked in a state of shock horror as he dropped to his seat with a thud.

Kriegor was suddenly ripped out of his chair, it felt like he was encased in concrete, which had suddenly been lifted off the ground, the Inquisitor released him and Kriegor fell hard on his backside, breathing heavily, eyes wide.

Kriegor's heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst through his ribcage to attack the daemon that sat on the other side of the table, the eyes transfixed on him were reminiscent of a kitten about to torture a small, injured bird it had found.

Matthias's eyes nearly leapt out of his head, Kriegor Zan Varr was ripped out of his seat and held in mid-air with nothing attached whatsoever, Kriegor looked in a state of shock horror as he dropped to his seat with a thud.

Kriegor was suddenly ripped out of his chair, it felt like he was encased in concrete, which had suddenly been lifted off the ground, the Inquisitor released him and Kriegor fell hard on his backside, breathing heavily, eyes wide.

Kriegor's heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst through his ribcage to attack the daemon that sat on the other side of the table, the eyes transfixed on him were reminiscent of a kitten about to torture a small, injured bird it had found.

"Yes, milord, I understand!" Kriegor said; a man who had once inspired fear simply with his presence, like a biddable hound, eager to please it's master.

"Good...You shall make us proud; or we shall take over far more permanently here. I have faith in you, Governor...But you are ultimately expendable in the Emperors eyes."
He smiled
"By Inquisitorial Edict I can mobilise any faction of your army; even take control of this world, if the Emperor should wish it. But again; we have faith in you, in your ability to inspire your flock. They already embrace the doctrine of the Emperor....Do you?"
He moved forward. "Do you worship the God Emperor? Are you free of heresy and doubt?"

Kriegor was taken aback, Is this man MAD!, "Milord...if every Kriegos citizen took up arms, we could not hope to take this world, not with fifty billion men could you do this!" Kriegor said before realising his folly and adding "[i]Yes milord, I am free of Heresy and I am free of doubt...but milord, could the Emperor take this world? The whole world! I'm not saying he can't but...your- My Emperor must be powerful indeed, it appears I have chosen wisely when picking my side." The room lay silent for a bit, a blanket of tension layered the small room effortlessly.

"Every citizen Will take up arms; or go to the factories....The Imperium will help you subjugate this world; and then further afield; this system....And thne you will be part of our united Imperium; an empire spanning the stars. Do you not agree? Or do you fear to wield true power? Do you turn from our hand of friendship and strength?"

"Milord, Kriegorgrad has always kept a strong military presence through having a small army, it is highly motivated, very well trained and equipped. It also adds to the fear, having soldiers go through your city means something is wrong and everyone will do all they can for the soldiers, whereas, should we have soldiers everywhere, the Kriegos people will grow de-sensitised to the oppression through fear."

Kriegor finished the small lecture in the hope that his new master understood how delicate the situation in Kriegorgrad was. Hope was one of the few things that kept Kriegorgrad running...

The Inquisitor leaned forward, and laughed, cruelly, brutally at the little man.
"Very well then; it is as you wish. Only a portion of the population will be mobilised, trained and armed by the Imperium. But know this...Should you fail me; or fail the Emperor, I will give you the death you rightly deserve. I shall purge your heretical form from the world; and place your head upon a chainsword....Only then can you be truely pure."
He turned from them; debating. "Now...The Remaking, already begun, shall move forward with greater Zeal...For the EMPEROR!"

His cry echoed through the dark halls, and then he was gone; retreated into the interior of the building; moving away from the new 'leader' of the nation...And servant of the Imperium.

Weeks passed; fading into months; the nation progressed; moved....Changed, and soon the greatest honor was bestowed upon them...
The God Emperor came to their world.

A great ship; glimmering with gold and silver, shimmering with an almost divine magnificence, lowered itself, burning from the heavens. The great doors slid open and from thme came mighty Warriors; Terminator armor glistening in the light, as they moved in a rough semi-circle...
And then he stepped forht; burning with divinity; his armor annointed in gold and silver, platinum and the richest materials and fabrics that could be found; he truly looked as a god, made flesh.

"So...This is my new world." He whispered. "Its progress pleases me"

IC: People shunned away from the mammoth ship as they did whenever the heavens opened in these turbulent times, people had actually become used to the grand ships of the stars landing in their cities, after the first few days, the Imperials had spread throughout Kriegorgrad, people now bowed and scraped before the Imperials wherever they went just as they do to the Nobility.

Half the people bowed and buried themselves into the filth lining the street while the other half fell to their knees in adoration, the God Emperor swept through the dirty streets, an aura of hope and power emenated from his very presence.

Kriegor Zan Varr sat slumped in his throne, immersed in his thoughts, of the shifts of power within Kriegorgrad and for what...some old man withering away on a throne.

It was then that the double oak doors leading into the throne room burst open, revealing a man. A man in golden armour lined with platinum and a deep cloak fluttering behind him, a man that looked a god.

"Greetings" He almost smiled; moving towards the man, lain prostrate on the throne.
"I am Marcus De Drakan, God-Emperor of the Imperium; and you, must be Kriegor."
His footfalls were as thunder, his armor stilkl shimmering, his powerfist alight with energy; this truly was a powerful man.
"This world has been welcomed into the bosom of the IMperium, annointed in its glory, and I have come, to ensure your loyalty. I trust, friend, that you are loyal, and that thoughts of treason and heresy are never present in your thoughts....Do not lie; for I will know."

IC: Kriegor was shaken from his semi-slumber, he wiped his eyes to see a being of pure holy light, standing in the skylight; surrounded by Terminators, which produced a clean shaft of sunlight, free of dust motes, a rare thing in the palace.

Zan Varr heard a booming voice, his ears fell prey to it's melody, it lulled him into relaxation and peace, he kept completely at ease, this man was indeed powerful.

Kriegor took a moment to realise who this mighty being was, he quickly roused himself and leapt to his feet before falling to one knee, knuckle to forehead, "May the light illumine you my God-Emperor! Milord, I cannot claim to be free of heresy but I am most certainly free of doubt, now that I have had the great honour of basking in your Presence."

Kriegor took a slight breath before continuing, "Milord, I can promise I will be loyal! I can promise I will not be treasonous! I am extremely thankful the mighty Imperium happened upon Kriegorgrad...much blood was shed in the death throes of the old but things are as they are..." Kriegor stopped, he thought for a second and then added "My God-Emperor, seeing as I am an instrument of your holiness for this world...could I have something to display my status?" Kriegor said while openly admiring the God-Emperor's intricate armour, as well as that of his Terminator bodyguards.

"You shall have a full cadre of Space Marines as your loyal guard, as well as the Imperial Guardsmen of Kriegorgrad. You shall be armored as befits a member of the Adeptus Astartes; trained in the way of war, and subjected to gene therapy. You will become the ideal warrior; my Space Marines...And you shall not falter; you shall not yield, you shall know no fear, and be as gods before mere mortals"

"Milord, I know this may be showing a great deal of audacity but I noticed the armour your bodyguards wore...it made apparent they had status and could I ask...would I be allowed to wear that paticular armour? It well help show my status - and the rewards serving the God-Emperor one can recieve." Kriegor queried.

Kriegor stood before the emperor, the gleaming light of his armour allowing Kriegor to share the holy glow of the God-Emperor of Chronosia.

The Emperor smiled.
"Indeed; you shall be armored as a Terminator; given power and dominion, weapons and gains beyond belief. You shall wield well the Power Fist and Storm Bolter of my order. I annoint you as Lord Kriegor of the Imperium. As the instrument of my will upon this world. Do you understand, friend?"
The Emperor gestured about the room. "This is a pale shadow of what you deserve; you shall be given a vast and mighty throne room and palace, befitting one of your rank"

Kriegor was dumbfounded, Powerful, noble and generous! Kriegor nearly leapt with joy, he waited a second or two before replying with what he intended to do with Kriegorgrad., "thank you milord! Thank you! I shall be your fist that shall wrap this world in the fires of industry! When you next see Kriegorgrad, you'll see a black land writhe with the forges at full steam, we shall fuel the grand machine of war!"

Matthias stood, thinking about the changes that Kriegorgrad was going through, he was deep in thought despite his outward demeanour of content absorption, Kriegorgrad is entering a golden age...the fires of industry shall scourge the world, indeed they shall...

Marcus moved from the table and made way for the doors.
"I look forward to seeing it. I want the changes to begin at once; reforge and remake this place into a hub of the Imperium; make it beautiful and majestic, make it a forge and foundry of war; make it a place of great honor and worship in my name; and once this is done, Lord Kriegor...You shall take the reigns of this; a proud segment of the Imperium. I look forward to your progres...Make it so, in my name"
And with that, quickly, swiftly, he was gone...

Kriegor's mind was whirring, A lord of the Imperium...armoured as a terminator! By then, Kriegor was ordering Matthias near, telling him to have the changes done...

Within days, the foundries were roaring, the din of hammers clanging on metal, slaves roared under the agony of hot lead gone awry, the hiss of steam as steel was plunged into buckets of cold water filled the air. Smoke came out of the grand chimneys in great plumes before giving way and crumbling to the winds.

Slave Master Zeruk; usually content in the buzzing hive of the factory, sighed, the cracking of whips and the resulting screams brought relief to his ears, familiar noises that always comforted the Slave Master. Zeruk's leather guile kept his face hidden, blood stains spattered the brown hood that drooped down far beyond his chin, two eye holes gave Zeruk a hideous stare, slaves withered and disappeared into the crowds under that same gaze.

Zeruk strode outside, the hissing and roaring being left behind, the clang of hammer on metal pursued him half way down the street however, by that time, the noises of another factory faded in, for the first time in 3 days of intensive work, he pulled his leather hood up, his grimey face being exposed to the blackened sky, not a single shaft of sunlight pierced the thick vale that the smoke kept reinforcing.

Zeruk gave a heavy breath, he'd been standing outside for nearly an hour now, wandering down the streets where taverns mixed with factories, both pooling yellow light onto the filthy cobble stones, the weary Slave Master began to make his way back to the factory despite the din of work quickly becoming a decrescendo, it was growing late now, alot of factory owners and the Slave Masters allow their workers to go home.

Not Zeruk, Zeruk made sure his workers laboured until they dropped, then, even in death, they can aid their fellow workers in the form of food.

Life went on.