NationStates Jolt Archive

The Inquisitors Daemonblade struck the warriors Hammer, forcing it back even as the young Marine pressed forward in attack. He spun, black cloaks whirling in fevered dance over blacker armor, his badge that of the Eight Pointed Star; and beyond that, the seal of Slaanesh.

"You lack faith heretic" the hissed cackle of the Inquisitor drifted to the young marine, who attacked again, his chosen weapon slamming against the roaring blade. Within, there seethed the spirit of Rak'nar the Bloodchosen, a great Daemon of Khorne who the Inquisitor had bent to his will during a battle with Khornate forces.

"It is you who lacks faith! You have forsaken your Empire, your vocation. I have stayed loyal to my Master, the God Emperor of Man."

"Then you shall die for him, I serve my Empire well."

"Your Empire is nothing! Even now, others seek to reinvigorate what was lost! It will be reborn!"

A fist closed around his throat, a hissing, crackling powerfist that sent surges of pure energy through the young Marine, even as the claws extended into his flesh.

"Nothing shall destroy the sanctity of the Imperium; I shall make sure of it. In the name of the Four Powers, I commit you to the Warp." His blade pierced the Marines Armor, shattering his ribcage, burning the life from him, as Rak'nar feasted greedily.

"It is done then"

The Inquisitor turned; his eyes fixed on the women whose raven black hair poured about her face, her armor near identical to his. His sister-in-arms, she known as Lucretia, the Cleanser of Yrnok, the scourge of the Galos Straits.

He himself, was Ezekial; he who bore the title of Inquisitor General, servant to the Primarch Remiel; he commended for his actions upon the Moons of Erebok, he gifted with the Daemonblade...

"Yes, it is done." He turned lightly, eyeing the armor of the Marine. "He was good sport. A rogue from the old Legions."

"They grow common. Perhaps this talk of a New Imperium, is the Dratherians doing. They seek what we seek, they want what we want."

"Power"

"The Power of a dead Era. Our tech Priests work to formulate new instruments of destruction. If we do not find a Titan, we shall eventually build one, it is inevitable." She pondered for a moment. "Geneseed, however, and the ability to create new Legions, is a nessecity. The Emperor's holy flesh is changed in Daemonhood. Yet we draw closer, each day, to perfecting new strains."

"We shall succeed, and this galaxy will yield to us its secrets. We hold the Librarium Daemonica, our Master works to translate the Azahan tablets, to find the location of the Black Library. Soon all knowledge and power shall be his, soon we shall have a new calling."

"We need to move" She smiled lightly, chuckling softly. "We are needed elsewhere. I suggest taking a retinue of Black Knights to the Dratherian borders. The power of Rak'nar, shall be paired with Visanthia."

Visanthia, she who hungers. A powerful warp entity bound within mortal hosts as a Daemonhost and employed by Lucretia. She chose them to be beautiful, young, innocent; and then thrilled to watch them slowly corrupted and made seductive daemons by the power of Visanthia within.

These were but two of the Black Inquisition. The order of Remiel; the black hearted enforcers of a darker faith....

A message was broadcast from a slowly moving object, which closer analysis would reveal as a Battle Barge of the Inquisition, its signal drifting through the void, alighting upon signal arrays and communications systems.

"Denisons of heretical nations that dwell beyond the Light of the Emperor. We are the Inquisition, come in his name to purfiy for the Dark Gods. We come to bring the light of the Warp to your eyes. All who believe shall be spared death and desolation. All who resist, shall be granted the freedom of Death. We shall suffer no heretic within or without."

The message broke off, a hissed crackle of obscene prayers to insane Gods; their laughter echoing in every word, every syllable drenched in perverse worship.

"By Nurgles blessings are you inflammed with disease; by Tzeentch's will are men infused with psychic power and magick. By the power of Khorne do you make war; and by Slaanesh are you made decadent and corrupt. Behold the wages of sin, behold the children of Chaos and the hour of Death! Repent and be purified!"

The zealots stepped down from their pedastals, bowing at the feet of the Inquisitor's thrones.

"Hear us now; we are the Inquisition. Bearers of the Divine Wrath of the Daemon Emperor; we are the chosen who further his word and protect his realm. Those who refuse our mercy, shall know our wrath. We are coming..."

Ezekial had spoken...

(tag)

OOC: BUmp; come on people; I need participants. Fresh blood or old enemies; matters not.

A laser transmission hit the Chronosian relays, and a purple-skinned Daemon Prince could be seen grinning at the beginning of the recording.

"Greetings, old friends. I am Daemon Prince Nocha, lord and master of the Muktari envoy being sent to the area. Our forces have grown restless, and need reason to take action. Perhaps you would accept the support of our forces in your upcoming battles?"

"People of Muktar; we are agents of the most blessed Inquisition. You are new to the ways of Chaos; you are young in the art of Worship. As such, an Imperial Inquisition delegation shall be sent to test the strength of your faith. We realise that the Gods do not bestow Daemonhood lightly; but it is in your best interest to ensure unity. Do you accept the will of the Daemon Emperor?"

Bump; come on people!

OOC: Do you have any kind of IM? I would like to talk to you Chronisia.

OOC:

Marc_C_C@hotmail.com
AOL: ChronosMCC
YIM: ChronosiaMCC

"My people and I bow before Slaanesh alone. We will not turn our devotion from our God to a comparitively meer daemon."

Although he normal kept a visage of calm, a spark of fury from an insult could be seen in Nocha's three eyes.

The Inquisitior chuckled softly. "We do not expect you to. We only ask that you be policed for purity. Show more respect for your Elders, and your makers." His eyes blazed with zealous fury. "We shall arrive soon. The Inquisition shall begin..."

Tagged for interest.

"Interesting..." muttered Azaroth, Arbiter of Doom as he watched the transmission.

He was the first of the Chaos Converts, willing Men of Chaos willing to convert to the True Race, and had, as a result, been granted the powers of all of the Dark Gods. He bore the strength and anger of Khorne, Nurgle's diseases, Tzeentch's powers of magic, et cetera. He knew more of Chaos than most living things, and more than any should be capable of.

He and his legion of similar creatures were loyal servants of the Doom Emperor and Chaos.

Azaroth now stood on the bridge of his flagship, the Defiler, pacing back and forth, searing the already blackened ground with heat as he moved.

"I think I'll meet this...Inquisitor..." came a hissed proclamation, crackling with Warp energies.

"It shall be done," came a similar voice from a darkened corner of the scorched bridge.

Soon the vessel entered hyperspace and was on its way to where Ezekial's battle barge drifted.

Upon exiting, the massive forty kilometer-long vessel pulled up next to the barge. It was a magnificent feat of engineering, its blackened hull gleaming from excessive heat exposure both from the outside and inside, the great spires jutting out from the hull bristling with guns. If one looked closely into the gleaming vessel, one could almost see the millions of souls trapped within staring back in horror, screaming out in silent voices to be released.

The Inquisitor turned as the ship appeared near to them; closing his eyes as he probed it with his considerable psychic ability.
"The Arbiter of Doom returns to the realm of Men, and with him he brings a great force. Does he wish to aid us?"

He chuckled lightly, turning to Lucretia. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Why, open discourse, of course" She smirked wryly, spread out, catlike, languidly reclined on her throne.

"Dooman vessel; we are agents of the Inquisition, we ask that you state your intentions and your mission. We come in the name of your ally; the Daemon Emperor of the Chronosian Imperium."

A nine-foot high hologram appeared in front of the two, clad in black obsidian-decorated armor, painted with the blood of the warrior's kills. A hood came low over the creatures face, drowning it in darkness, yet two red eye glowered back at them. He had great clawed hands and a mighty blade at his side. One could see the very armor of this creature sizzling from its heat.

"I am Azaroth, Arbiter of Doom. I come to aid the Inquisition in the name of the Doom Emperor."

::The Warp::

The Daemons of the Immaterium screamed in agony as the bow of the Devastator ripped a hole in the fabrics of mortal space, commiting it to the eternal darkness the was the realm of Chaos. The commander of the Devastator paced the deck of his ship impatiently, giving harsh orders to his underlings as he felt out with the vast amount of power afforded him by the Gods. With this power he felt the anguish of a Daemonblade as it struck a heretical Hammer. He quickly stopped searching and barked an order.

"Tune all communication receivers to channel 0.88263!"

As the order was followed quickly, the commander, Miirgor, sat upon his throne of black steel. When he saw an underling signal a communication reception, he ordered it played.

"Denisons of heretical nations that dwell beyond the Light of the Emperor. We are the Inquisition, come in his name to purfiy for the Dark Gods. We come to bring the light of the Warp to your eyes. All who believe shall be spared death and desolation. All who resist, shall be granted the freedom of Death. We shall suffer no heretic within or without. By Nurgles blessings are you inflammed with disease; by Tzeentch's will are men infused with psychic power and magick. By the power of Khorne do you make war; and by Slaanesh are you made decadent and corrupt. Behold the wages of sin, behold the children of Chaos and the hour of Death! Repent and be purified! Hear us now; we are the Inquisition. Bearers of the Divine Wrath of the Daemon Emperor; we are the chosen who further his word and protect his realm. Those who refuse our mercy, shall know our wrath. We are coming..."

"I think we shall me these Inquisitors," growled Miirgor. "Follow the communication through the Warp and order NO ONE to disturb me."

He walked slowly off to his combat chamber, bringing only his Daemonscythe with him. Any who followed would pay dearly.

OOC: Bump.

Tick Tick Tick

It continued to count down.

Zorina sat, tapping the throne she sat on impatiently. She was a King, Not of just any Backwater planet, but of the Terran Colonies themselves! She was King of The Birth Place of the Old Tsurani, once calld North Africa, it was now Tsuran, her Kingdom. She Possesed Two full battle ships, and had the Emperors favor itself. She looked at her hands, grey trendials casually wafted from her fingers. Once, she had been a normal Tsurani Student, but then her entire soul was throne to the rift, for five full hours she had been pumped full of energy, until she had been thrown back into a dead body. For a moment, she had actually had the powers of god, but lost them in the same, now, she thirsted for power where ever she went. She was not happy with the mear Throne of Tsuran, she required The Seat of Imperia itself. But then, she quivered in fear. That ment taking on Stephen, the most powerful Caster known to the Galaxy. He had Started the Magic Technology, his body was the conduct of magic for his entire personal guard. What could she do?

Denisons of heretical nations that dwell beyond the Light of the Emperor. We are the Inquisition, come in his name to purfiy for the Dark Gods. We come to bring the light of the Warp to your eyes. All who believe shall be spared death and desolation. All who resist, shall be granted the freedom of Death. We shall suffer no heretic within or without. By Nurgles blessings are you inflammed with disease; by Tzeentch's will are men infused with psychic power and magick. By the power of Khorne do you make war; and by Slaanesh are you made decadent and corrupt. Behold the wages of sin, behold the children of Chaos and the hour of Death! Repent and be purified! Hear us now; we are the Inquisition. Bearers of the Divine Wrath of the Daemon Emperor; we are the chosen who further his word and protect his realm. Those who refuse our mercy, shall know our wrath. We are coming...

She heard it, and her mind flashed, perhapse she could gain something from them. She shook her head, she could not hide herself consorting with such creatures, she would be torn apart, better to tell the Emperor, and let him choose what to do. Thus she redirected the message, sending it to Imperia.

Stephen watched the woman think her treason thoughts, laughing to himself. How the human minds never stoped amazig him, the woman before him would have made a great empress, except for a fear of taking risks, if she didn't challange him, she couldn't over throw him. Taking such things from his mind, he studied the message, before deciding a corse of action.

-Calma- his mind link screamed across to the Squad Captian of his Elite Guard. She was his favorate invention, pure Rift Energy flowing through the body. -Take five Of your Units to the location of the message, I want you to study them, if possible, try and destroy them, but safty first.- He smiled, he could replace her, she knew he was talking about the safty of the actual Guardsmen.

"Yes Master, It will be done" her smooth Thought came, before she was gone.

And Five Ships droped out near the ship. Inside Pilots woke, they looked confused, but immidietly understood what to do, their craft went under all types of cloaks, and waited.

They would be detected, but that was the point, the CHaos would attack those not of them, this was known. But then the Rift would send its Clash against the power within the craft. The Rift would take its five servents and put them back. It had begun.

::The Warp::

The Devastator tore a second hole in the fabric of space that seperated the Immaterium from the Materium. The ship slipped through the fissure mere seconds before the creatures of Chaos sealed themselves in again for hatred of the light. Miirgor sat in his battle chamber, silently listening with his mind to the screams of the beasts. When the screaming stopped, he knew they had arrived at their destination. He stood slowly and walked to the bridge of his ship.

"Hail the Inquisitors. Tell them we are members of their faith that seek purification."

The order was followed quickly, for Miirgor's troops knew better than to challenge him.

Followers of the Four Gods, Inquisitors of the Chaotic, we come to you from the powerful race of Shloo. We too are followers of your religion, but wish to be purified. So we come to you, our Elders, seeking this. we hope that you find us worthy of the grand journey to the Immaterium.

"The Imperium understands, and wishes to aid you in furthering your devotion to the Dark Gods. You shall send one member of your race to our ship, and they shall be tested. If they fail; the purification will commence."

The Inquisitor paused, chuckling. "Do you understand, servants of Chaos?"

::Bridge of the Devastator::

Miirgor understood.

"Open a direct channel to the Inquisitor's ship," he ordered.

Miirgor stood in front of the hologram projector, speaking clearly.

"I will join you, Great Ones, for I am the chosen of my people, blessed by Khorne as I sit in the Immaterium. I shall arrive shortly."

With that, Miirgor shut down the transmission and walked towards the ship's transports. After he was loaded, he held his Daemonscythe tightly as he launched, trying to forsee what would happen on the Elder's ship.

OOC: Bump.

The Inquisitors had come to the dock; Ezekial brooding and dark; Lucretia, seductive and lithe; almost feline in her movements.

They waited, watxching now as the ship drew nearer; these children who were to be schooled; educated in the ways of True Chaos.

Ezekial let a chuckle escape from his dry throat as he watched; waiting.

"This shall be interesting, shall it not?"

"Indeed; these Younglings shall prove to be most useful in what is to come..."

::Chronosian Ship::

Miirgor breathed in sharply as the docking clasps sealed his ship onto the belly of the larger ship, creating a pathway into the docking area. He gripped his Daemonscythe and stepped out into the bay, and took in his surroundings. Miirgor was astonished by how much the architecture was obviously influenced by Chaos, and the Warp. As he looked, he noticed that he was awaited by two beings, one beautiful, in a dark, dangerous way, and the other large and foreboding, a true being of Chaos. Miirgor strode towards the figures, wondering silently if he was strong enough for what lay ahead.

"welcome to our vessel; learners of Chaos. We are the Inquisition"

Ezekial spoke first; stepping forward to address them.

"Indeed; you are granted solace here, and we shall answer your questions, best as we can" Lucretia smiled gently, belying her darker nature.

"Come forth, children of the Dark Gods"

::Chronosian Ship::

Miirgor stepped forward, expecting any possiblity from his Elders, but fearing none. He reached out into the Warp, reading with his mind the situation.

Bump!