NationStates Jolt Archive

The distant and silent world of Persus Majorum, lies to the west, just below the Galactic Rim. A world shrouded in ancient mists; alluded to only in half-remembered legends and fables; the 'Prime Jewel in the Bloodied Crown' and the 'Key to the Great Becoming'. Now; it is once again found. The Chronosian Imperium had heard the stories; studied the lore, and now; come in force to claim it as their own. A primal and forboding world; the chapter of Hakar Terethil; the Blood Furies; have been deployed with Sorcerous Escort to tame the secrets of this world...

Yet in the end, those sent to aid the mighty Primarch, may prove to be his undoing; for the sons of Severino suspect something far more precious lies upon that world. The most prescient of augurs speaks of a crystal, crackling with warpflame; a light amongst darkness; a power beyond power; bound in obsidian, tamed in technolgy most arcane...

The Augurs speak of the Eye of the Warp.

"Status report" The Primarch intoned; his great voice bellowing; his bloodied wings stretching from his proud back as he paced the bridge.

"We are inbound, ETA 3 Hours." A tech-priest heretic thing scuttled to his side; bowing; it's hissed whisper echoing about the deck, before it moved onwards.

"Excellent, though I fail to see why my father places me at our borders, chasing legends."

"Do not be so sceptical, Lord Primarch..." A seething hiss slipped forth from ancient defiled lips; as the Sorceror stepped forward from the shadows. "The Emperor has his reasons; and you shall have your rewards. What matters is, that the world is claimed" And the prize becomes ours...

Severino's sorcerous Cabal desired this; power and possessions, artefacts and ability; the expansion and harnessing of the sorcerous craft; and the forging of a dark glory. Severino would be a black star rising; favored of the Emperor and chosen of Tzeentch; he would be unstoppable...But first, yes, first certain conditions would have to be met...

Theocratic
Amphibians
Gestate

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What exactly is the OOC lowdown here?

OOC: Evil Chaos artefact; forces of Chaos seeking it for use in evil nefarious plots. Discuss, involve, RP.

A Distorted Retribution class battleship Hung in Place over the Planet Persus Majorum

They had Been dispatched from a local planet, With orders to Aid The Lord Primarch in the Conquest of this planet, and the aquisition of the Item the Chornosium Imperium sought after so much...

The Dreadlord of The 101st sat hunched in the Command chair, his eyes were bloodshot, and his elongated fangs showed themselves as he snarled in annoyance... Spending time traveling the Warp was never good for him, when rather, he could be on the battlefield spilling blood in the Name of Khorne... Their patron God...

Behind his Dias were two massive Icons of Khorne, and strapped to them where two beautiful women, captured during an Assault on a Random Agriworld, There was no reason behind it, just the sheer thrill of Setting the galaxy Ablaze... since their Conversion to the Dark Powers the 101st had set many fires on many worlds, and the Galaxy bore a Crimson Scar.. Countless worlds Sacked by these Unholy Warriors of Khorne... and now Another world would be added to the list...

"Ensign... Open a Channel to the Lord Primarch.."

there was a gutteral snarl, a crackle of static, then a confirming nod from the Bloodstained Ensign... His eyes torn out long ago...

This is the DreadLord Wulfestan.... In the Name of Khorne and the Daemon Emperor, We Will Aid The Imperium in its new Endeavours, May the Rivers run Red With Blood and the Clouded Skys toil with the souls of those who Defy our Glorious Imperium... Death Or Glory.. In The Name of Khorne!"

During the Broadcast, Tearing of flesh and the screaming of young women being tortured in the most horrific ways imaginable could be audiable over the Dreadlords talking....

We thank you for your aid, yet we know not how much blod there is to be spilled on this Campaign. It is a standard scouting mission of a legendary world; and while I do not question the Emperor's judgement, I see no promise in it; this is a dead campaign; a fruitless voyage that lacks blood or glory! Khorne cannot benefit from trinkets! Blood must be spilled!

In Reply to the Lord Primarchs Message

Regardless, Blood Will be Spilled This day, Khorne Cares not for where it came... Only that the Blood Runs Free.... We Await Your Arrival... Dreadlord Wulfestan... Out"

Again more sounds of torture, the revving of Chainswords and Chain Axes, and the Gutteral Roars at the Mention of their patron God...

The Novo ripped it's way into realspace, the gaping warp-hole sealing itself behind the ship. A Strike Cruiser of the Obsidian Guard, it had served prior to the Chapter's fall, and for a hundred and ten years had been commanded by Captain Talio.
Talio now prepared himself for a meeting with the Chronosians. Alone in his chambers, he anointed his armour as it lay upon it's rack with oil, water, and finally with his own blood. Talio himself was remarkably normal, physically. Over three hundred years of service had left him without a single mutation, and scorn for those Brothers who would willingly give their bodies to the warping effects of Chaos.

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Captain Talio strode onto the bridge, now fully armoured and with his helmet under one arm. His head was shaved, and his face sported a long scar from left eyebrow to chin. He spoke to the adept at the long-range comms.

"You. Open a channel to the surface, standard encryption"

"Aye, sir" replied the adept, pressing a number of runes at his terminal. "Channel open, sir. I'm receiving confirmation echo"

Talio grabbed the microphone attached to the comm terminal...

This is Captain Talio of the Strike Cruiser Novo. We will be entering high orbit of Persus Majorum in six minutes. I and the lord Mephraxis will transport to the surface shortly. Requesting landing vector for one Contego-class orbital shuttle.

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"Message recieved brother; you are ordered to set up Base Camp and you shall be joined by the Lord Primarch, all in due time. Preparations are under way for a full strategic deployment of this Vessel."

The Flagship of Hakar carried a Chapter; a Thousand Marines of his Legion. The Chapter was subdivided into Ten Companies; and this is the force Radu would lead forth. A fraction of his full force; but a useful engagement group none the less.

And so it was, that the followers of Khorne came forth to Persus, and set in motion the terrible events that would eventually lead to their prize. The Primarch stepped down from the bridge, gazing upon the world. His lips moved gently into a smirk, a half-grimace.

"A decrepit little world, is it not?"

"Indeed my lord" That crooning sorceror's whisper again "Yet in its prime, it was a thing to behold; and shall be again..."

"And shall be again.." He whispered; the darkness yawning below him, the whirling maelstorm of clouds; suddenly didn't seem so bad...It almost felt like home.

The Drop pods of the 101st screamed through the toiling clouds, the streaks of turbo jets arching across the sky... in moments the 101st would touch down, smashing into the soil of this planet...

The first Pod crashed into the ground, tearing a great channel across the planet, kicking up dust and debry, smashing apart what little vegitation was upon this planet... then with a screetch of shearing metal the pod came to a halt..

Explosive bolts detonated, blowing the protective blast doors off... then with a click the whirr of chainswords and chainaxes errupted across the calm before the storm....

"Blood for the Blood God!"

Came the roar as dozens of 101st's warriors lept from the Pod and began to rampage out into this World....

From the first pod, rose a Tall beast of a man... Wulfestan... bordering the same height as a marine, this Inhuman Creature surveyed the lands through bloodshot eyes, his long fangs exposed in roar of Triumph to his Patron God...

On his packback were two mighty spikes, that held between them the mutilated corpse of some young woman, he claimed as a trophey, then later butchered...Her face contorted into a grimace of Fear and Agony... her skin stained red with her own blood, dark and crusting...

His two Double headed chain axes held in his hands, as skulls swung from his belt as this massive warrior of Khorne strode forth, ready to do battle in the name of the Daemon Emperor...

OOC: srry for bad grammer fix later-sleepy

We also wish to help in this endeavor. We may be small in number, but we are strong. We can offer 3000 scout and assualt demons for this great campain(sp).

http://doom3.planet-multiplayer.de/images/content/boss_cyberdemon.jpg
-assualt and scout demons.

OOC: Cool, another Khorne worshipper.

Cymek Dante clasped his spidery fingers together. He was the commander of the Blood Ship Golden Lion,a Battlecruiser class ship, a bruiser of the Jaratian Royal Navy. The Golden Lion had been sent to this tiny world to investigate an unusually high concentration of Chaos in the area. Upon exiting Warp, Dante sensed this Chaos was coming from worshippers of the Daemon Gods. A hail was sent out to all ships bearing Chronosian tags.

Hail, brethren of the stars! Our readings show that you are Chronosian ships. I am Cymek Dante, commander of this ship, the Golden Lion. What are you doing here? May we assist in any way?
Dante clunkily turned his mechanical head. His "face mask" turned into an expression of extreme displeasure.
I will have to remedy that, Dante noted to himself. He then stalked of to examine the ship's working order, something he thought of the utmost importance, and was satisfied only if he saw it with his own eyes, mainly because he distrusted the human technicians.
They are SO privy to error... Dante sighed to himself as he walked. When he got a response, it would automatically be forwarded to his "Updates " list in the corner of his HUD. Until then, it was merely time to be passed.

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A hiss of hydraulics and the shuttle's boarding ramp descended onto the hard spaceport tarmac. From within strode Captain Talio, of the Novo, and the sorceror Mephraxis. A Chronosian adept approached the pair, bowing, and it was Mephraxis who spoke, his featureless solid silver helm echoing a hollow voice.

"You will take us to the Lord Primarch Severino...Immediately."

OOC: I have this thing about disembodied voices and eyeless sight :D .

"Lord Severino is not here; Lord Hakar holds sway. I, however am Martimus Kron." The figure slid from the shadows, bowing softly; golden mask gleaming, crackling with obscene warp energies. "I come in the name of Severino; here to enforce the will of the Sorcerous Legion..." He chuckled softly. "As though the vulgar Khornates could understand what lies beneath their feet..."

Shreiking down onto the Chronosian portl, the Changeling transport pulled back at the last moment, extending its landing gear and landing gently. Stepping forth from the black-painted transport, the flame blackened form of the Primarch Aduro emerged. Smiling gently, he gazed about, marvelling at all the delightful things he could burn. Wistfully, he turned away from this temptation. His father would not approve of him burning down the port of an ally...

OOC: Just imagine that I had actually bothered to log out and log in as Rupil...
IC
Death. Something worth relishing. Those who he killed would serve him in the afterlife. Best that they know it before sending victims to meet his god. Underworld must have quite a palace prepared for him by now. He had better, with 12,000 spineless merchant crewmen to act the part of slaves in it. The greater the Underlord's Everlasting Kingdom, the greater his servants in this bodily world. And now this servat would become something more.

Chaos. It is feared by many segments of humanty-its psychic power over them formidable. But some worship it, use its power, its physical embodiments to their advantage. How powerful could a Follower of the Lord of Those Passed become with the blessings of the most powerful demons of the human psyche? Certainly more powerful than a mere raider of defenseless shipping. Soon he would be a name feared across all known space, and when he at last went to meet his Master, he would rule over untold numbers of victims. For All Eternity. He could almost feel his success nearing as his solitary fighter appraoched Chronosian Space, where Chaos was worshipped by men.

Thus begins the Tragedy of Threnk the Damned.

Aduro was greeted by Hakar himself; stepping down from the great belly of his vessel; naming him brother "Welcome!" He chuckled softly. "Welcome, son of the Changer; welcome to this world beyond the edge of reason; this outpost at the edge of sanity!" He laughed again, bellowing in laughter this time.

"What brings you here in the name of the Khurganate?"

Meanwhile....

Foreign vessel; you are entering the Dominion of the great Daemon Emperor; identify yourselves or be damned. Identify yourselves; or be seared alive, damned and fed to the flesh hounds that hunger to toy with you.

The message ended; defence stations and Border Guard stations coming online; weapons trained forth; mine's ready for deployment.

You have a single Terran minute to comply, trespassers

Threnk opened a communication channel to the border guard, explaining himself:

I am Threnk Gult-Fot Pyenta, lover of death. I wish to learn from the great masters of Chaos the secrets of how to harness its power. I come with no secrets of my own, seeking only to learn to use the power of Chaos. Hail to bloodshed and death.

He turned off his main engines, and slowed down his fighter. He also powered down his primary sheilds and deactivates his targeting system. There would be no point in having these on if the Chronosians wanted him dead, and he needed them to trust his peaceful intentions.

Sure enough the border contrl allowed him to pass and he flew on toward the planet's nearest landing beacon, hoping he would recieve further instruction at some point.

We grant access; but beware; our endeavors are paramount. You shall not stand before them; your arrogant pride shall not destroy the great ambition. We are Chaos; we are the Servants of the True Gods. Those who would learn from us, would first know fear and pain and Desire...Change; immutable and limitless. We shall allow you to aid us; but the prize is ours. Are we understood?