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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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ITT we further work on a setting where the Primarchs return due to Big E/Malal. Turns out it runs on Manly Tears and Badassery.

Continuing from: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30718552/
Wiki here:
Kruze looked around the command hall again. Order of the Obsidian Mirror seals were still on the wall by the door behind the rows of vox and cogigator terminals at which Sororitas and Astartes sat. When he'd visited the space in the morning, he'd found it depressing, the fact that his Legion was being merged with ex-Inquisitors, Arbites, and Sororitas, as part of an Imperial Security Service, seemed a testament to his failures. After the days meetings and exercises, after seeing these people in action, he found he was feeling something verging on hope. The Inquisitors were clever, the Arbites dedicated, and the Sororitas facile with data and full of surprises. No, he decided, he wouldn't change the emblem. His legion would always be the Night Lords, but the time had come to step from the shadows, not just to inspire terror, but heroism as well. If these mere humans could do it, then so could he; wasn't that what the God Emperor had made him for?
He almost allowed himself a smile.
A furrowed brow.
'What happened to me... ah, him. After he... er, I destroyed Nostromo?' he asked one of the Sororitas who had been guiding him. Gruschenkha was it?
She didn't say anything, clearly thinking.
'I wasn't wrong about Nostromo. What I did.'
He thought he saw her nod ever so slightly. He felt an odd warmness and again almost smiled when she spoke:
'He survived the Heresy. He withdrew to the edges of the Imperium and allowed an assassin to take his life. He'd been waiting for her, it seems. His legion didn't survive his death; it broke up into roving terror bands that haunt the Imperium to this day.'

Kruze thought for a moment about that, about the assassin, and, without thinking murmured aloud:
'Death is nothing compared to vindication.'
It almost seemed like a cruel irony that Lorgar had brought his Legion back to Monarchia. Though the rest of the world had changed, this place had remained the exact same: burnt to the very ground.

"Do you recognize this place?" The Primarch questioned the Remembrancers and Ecclesiarchal guests among his fleet.
"I do." The lead missionary among the Ecclesiarchy responded. "This place...it was birthplace of the Imperial Creed, is it not?"
"Almost." He knelt among the ashes. He couldn't stop hearing of the screams among this plane, no matter how hard he shut himself off. Hundreds of faithful souls, loyal to the Emperor, the God-Emperor, all burned to ash at His order. "He knew of the Lectitio Divinatus before here. It was only here that he had made his point: He was not God."
The Missionary had heard the story before from some less-than-pious Astartes before, but hearing it from a Primarch, the one whose work was responsible for the Ecclesiarchy no less, made him feel ill at ease. "But...why, Lord Primarch? He had done so much that was impossible for a lesser man. So much more than any species had dared hoped!"
Again, he heard the screams.

"Hail to the Emperor, may he protect our souls!"
"Though we may die, may our deaths be remembered always!"
"Our loyalty never wavers!"

He could not take it. This was his pride, his life's work, and it was dashed so easily.
He remembered the story the Sororitas, those women who worked as the Church's soldiers, told them. This was more than his greatest failure. It was the birthplace of an even greater failure.

"Why do you keep torturing yourself with these memories, boy?" Kor Phaeron finally spoke up, disgusted at seeing his son's weakness. "You will learn nothing more from dwelling on the past. He has rejected your teachings. Now we move on to another faith."
Another faith. A fourfold path. An eight-pointed star. A horde of daemons, and a humanity lost.
I've read it like five times and the ending still loses me. Is Kor Phaeron pursuading Lorgar to lose faith in the Emperor again?
Other than the end, which just lost me, I dig.
It was because of what happened here that a preacher became the Urizen. Where faith was rejected, he learned cold reason, and that reason was that the only true gods of the universe were...
Come to think of it, Lorgar wondered, why was the First Captain the only one who believed this truth? Why did everyone else seem to believe in a completely different truth, one governed by science and mathematical reason? He then remembered talk from amongst his own sons, doubting the Captain's claims as an Astartes, an elderly man in the shape of a warrior. More pressingly, there were also reports about Calth, a war of petty hatred turned into a dark ritual. And the common link was...

"Have you truly faith in you, Kor Phaeron?"
The elder snorted, "Faith? Of course I have faith! I was the one who taught you faith!"
Lorgar stood erect, his right hand gripping the Illuminarium tightly. "Faith in our cause, or faith in whatever you serve?"
"What does this babbling have to do with-"

He wouldn't finish the sentence, as he was sent flying by the blow. The missionaries and Sororitas who joined them gasped.
"So..." he chuckled. "This is how a father gets rewarded? Pathetic boy..."
"You are wrong." The Primarch started towards the old man. "This is not how a father gets rewarded." Again, he shifted grip on his weapon. "This is how a traitor, a manipulator, a poisoner, get rewarded."
With another swing, Kor Phaeron's head went flying. It landed near the feet of some legionnaires, who merely stepped on it like any other stone.
"You never had faith in the Emperor's cause. You only had faith in elevation. That was my weakness." Lorgar turned around, his gaze locking with Erebus this time around. "Hear this well, Chaplain. The reason the Lectition Divinatus failed was because it enforced worship. We are not worshippers, we are warriors. And we shall dedicate ourselves to fighting for these people, this Imperium, from the hell that exists."
Multiple parts, word limit, etc, etc,
But yes.

He rose the Illuminarium again.
"Our faith should not be focused upon the divinity of a man, but on the protection of many men! You have seen what hells exist beyond our realm, what things lurk here. These humans, these preachers, we are here because they cannot fight this war!"
The lead missionary asked again, "This is...! THIS IS INCREDIBLE!! I shall spread this to my church!"
Lorgar smiled at that. "Bear this word well, missionary: The Imperium's faith is upon our duty, not upon our icons!"
i wonder if we can get a story as to how the shit they managed to even do this in the first place so its at least somewhat believable, what i mean is how did the emperor and Co. manage to bring all the primarchs and their legions and stuff back?
Very nice.
I'll trust in anon next time.
Do something with Perty and Rogal vs Chaos Perty.
Up to this point it had been 'WARP MAGIC', but for a pseudo-plausible explanation how's:
The Cabal fucked up. Majorly. Emps-Senpai was supposed to die and with his survival, any semblance of their plan working perished. They could, however, try something else, namely fixing their mistake.
It took time. A lot of time, but fortunately they had that.
It took centuries to contact the Emperor in the Warp, centuries more before he was willing to hear them out.
Many a farseer's head exploded with the Emperor's rage.
Finally, the Cabal convinced Alpharius, who also had cut off ties with the Cabal following the Horus debacle to follow a troupe of Harlequins into the webway. Their purpose: to find the segment of the webway that linked up with the Golden Throne, in hopes that Alpharius could speak with the Emperor directly. Sensing his son's purity, the Emperor allowed Alpharius to speak with him and Alpharius explained everything. From that point on, Alpha Legion used the webway to keep the Emperor appraised of their plans. (Perhaps in all of this, Jagatai stumbled upon them whilst hunting Deldar? They captured him and brought him before the Emperor, who explained things. Jagatai slugged Alpharius and Omegon, but forgave them. As the centuries passed, the plan took shape. The only hope against Chaos was the return of the Primarchs. With their faith in the Emperor, they could defeat the worst of Chaos and allow the God Emperor and Cegorrach to ascend as pre-eminent deities. Later, contact with Malal caused them to factor it into their plans.
The plan was somewhat simple. The only way to get back the Primarchs was to either reforge them of warp stuff or steal them from parallel universes. The former would make them basically Greater Daemons, a bit too unstable for their purposes. The later would disrupt other timelines if not done carefully.

Emperor that dialogue began, and once they began talking they began planning.
Read the archive/wiki. We've got that. And it is glorious.
No actual stories yet, I'm afraid.
The solution they came to was to pull part of a primarch's essence from a parallel timeline and fill in the rest with warpstuff, courtesy of the Emperor's will.
To do this, however, required massive amounts of warp energy and an ability to travel through time. The second task was comparatively simple. The Ordo Chronos was established and set to work designing time machines. Alpha Legion moles fed information to the conspirators and when the time was right, they took the technology and allowed the Ordo to disappear.

The former task was more difficult. The Emperor could draw warp energy from his followers, from the faith of man and from the sacrifice of psykers. This required dire times for man, so that their faith would be called upon again and again. Thus the 10,000 years of suffering were needed for the plan to succeed. But even then, that would not be enough power and the storage and expenditure would draw the eyes of the other Chaos Gods, so means were devised to funnel warp energy from the others.
The two main players in this were Cypher and the Alpha Legion. By creating situations to power the big 4, they were able to hide the amounts that they syphoned for the Emperor, mostly via Malal. As time went on, Lady Malys became an agent of Cegorrach and she too plans to syphon energy to the Emperor when the time comes, in return for a place at Cegorrach's side as a demigod.

With the plans laid, all that remained was to collect the fury of the warp and wait for a moment when the Chaos gods would be too focused elsewhere to notice what was afoot.
This chance came during the 13th Black Crusade. At the precise moment of the fall of Cadia, the plan went into effect. The Primarchs were copied from favorable parallels, along with their legions and some of their support personnel. (the two missing primarchs were also brought back. See the wiki for our tentative work on them.)
Thus it was that the Great Crusade started anew.
Yeah, that's my idea. Not sure what you all think. I'm also not sure what Jagatai was doing the whole time. Helping plan, I guess?

Hmmm. I'll have to get on that. I'm going to try writing it backwards? Or something?
Or I'll try vignettes and then link them later. Yes. That's what I'll do.
It was a scent of iron on the imaterium that attracted Perturabo's gaze. High above the screams and rumble of the daemon forges, the scent made his pulse quicken, his jaw clench. It was as though someone was watching him from some far off place. He shifted uneasily in his Daemon Throne for a moment before the awareness hit him with the force of a thunderhammer. He could feel it being built, towers raised, trenches dug, enfalides planned. Those ruins he had fortified so long ago were being fortified. Nay, desecrated by some lesser hand. But it wasn't a lesser hand. And that was what was galling. He could feel the ingenuity, the careful attention to the smallest detail. It was the work of a genius. It was something He would build. Only one person... but he was dead. He had to be. Dorn. But he had Dorn's hand right there on the table. He had made Angron give it to him. He had almost fought Angron for the skull. Why hadn't he fought Angron for the skull? Was it because he was afraid of Angron? Ha! Afraid of that bloody fool. No, he'd let Angron have his way. Yes, let the petulant fool have his way. Perturabo didn't need it anyways. But Dorn. Only Perturabo or Dorn could build like that. So it must be Dorn. He should have known that Angron couldn't have killed Dorn. Only Perturabo could defeat Dorn. Foolish of him to think otherwise. But there was the hand! Mocking him! Making a fool of him! In a rage, Perturabo lunged at the table, siezed Dorn's arm and roared "You're dead! I won. You died! You can't build anymore! I'm the better man! The better son!" He tried to choke off those last words, but the came out anyways. He felt his entire body tense. The gods were watching. The other primarchs were watching. Angron had done this to make a fool of him.
Go on...
Dorn and Angron had been in on it from the start, laughing at him, hadn't they said as much? They didn't need to, he knew. Behind the smiles of the other Primarchs had been only mockery. Even Horus. Horus who'd failed and humiliated them all. How disgusting. And now Dorn was laughing at him again. They were all laughing at him.
Perturabo's grip on the dessicated arm tightened with mad fury. He could feel Dorn's laughter in it. He pounded it against the wall.
The bones stronger than ceramite snapped, but still Perturabo kept pounding.
The bones crumbled to dust, but still he kept at it.
Only when his fingers were bleeding did Perturabo stop, his chest heaving with rage.
He'd just have to prove Dorn wrong.
Yes. He'd show Dorn. He'd teach Dorn a lesson he'd never forget. And this time there would be no Gulliman to save him. It would be Dorn and Perturabo and this time he'd show him.

Perturabo stormed from the his chamber and roared at the men who worked in the rooms below: "Honsou! Shon'tu! Assemble the men and ready the fleet! We go to crush the enemy!"

On Istvaan 5, Perturabo looked up from the construction. Something had changed in the wind. He could feel the baleful light from the Eye, though he couldn't see it. He smiled. Everything was right on schedule.
i like this alot actually.
Perturabo sat uneasily in his seat aboard his flagship. He wanted to tell his men to slow down, to give the whelp that was Dorn more time to prepare, to make his victory all the sweeter. Yes, let Dorn laugh while he still could. It was funny, how that fool strutted and postured, when death came for him. Perturabo almost laughed. But he didn't. They might think he was nervous. He wasn't, but Honsou and Shon'tu. They both thought they were better than him. They were waiting for a moment of weakness from him. And then they'd strike, betray him. Laugh at him. But no. That would never happen because Perturabo was the greatest mind there had ever been. Wasn't this fleet, this vendetta the proof of that? No, the proof would only be when he had Dorn's head in his hand. No more humouring Angron. Angron, Dorn, they'd all pay.

The fleet arrived in orbit around Istvaan V. For a second time Perturabo prepared to drop to its surface. If only Dorn had been there to see him in his glory.
A message came in over the Vox. Perturabo prepared to laugh in the face of Dorn, but it wasn't Dorn.
Perturabo found himself staring at Perturabo. Perturabo was smiling at him. Laughing almost. Making fun of him!
"This is no trick, my twin. I'm here and I've made a challenge for you. For us. Because there can only be one of us. The true Peturabo will be the one that leaves this planet alive. So come, crush my citadel. If you can."
With that the channel cut out.
Perturabo shook with barely hidden rage. His men were staring at him, confused. No they were laughing at him. Secretly. They thought him a fool! How could he have thought it was Dorn. Dorn was dead. He had his arm. He crushed his arm. And Dorn could never build a fortress like the one awaiting him below. Yes. Dorn would cry to see such a beautiful work. Only Perturabo could build like that. And that was the challenge. He had to crush the imposter.
He'd prove he was the real one. The other one was a drone. A doll. And he was not a doll. No, he was a man. A God!
He turned to his men.
"Begin the bombardment, we make planetfall in an hour. Kill everything you find, but leave the impostor for me."

>So yeah, this is my take on Perturabo thus far. What do you all think?
Excellent. The barely-concealed rage really makes it.
I want to see how this ends
Perturabo and his men surged through the bunker. They'd been on Istvaan for hours now, fighting their way through killing fields and defense lines, into the Citadel, and down, down, down into the bunkers. They were good, but he was better. He knew it. And as the blast doors came down before him, he knew he was. He fought at the head. In hopes of siting the impostor. So his men wouldn't slay him before he could get his hands on him and tear off his laughing head. Honsou probably wanted to steal the glory. Shon'tu as well. Where were they? He'd lost track of them in the fighting. Maybe they had gone off alone and died. Yes. For their arrogance. No. He liked them. They were good soldiers. Good subordinates. But they needed to know their place. He hoped they survived. Maybe wounded. So that way they'd see how inferior they were to him. Yes. That would be good.
He moved faster and faster. Killing, rending, ripping. He began leaving his men behind. They could follow. He knew his way. He knew where the impostor would be, knew that there'd be little in his way. Puzzles perhaps, but nothing he couldn't solve. He'd show him. Yes. He'd be there soon to wring his smug neck.

Perturabo kicked down the last set of doors. This was it. He'd designed this place. He'd find the impostor here. He would kill him and he would prove he was the real one. Yes.
And there he was, the imposter, standing in front of him. But he was no match. Perturabo was a Daemon Prince and the man before him was a mere mortal. Perturabo allowed himself a rare smile.

"This is it. This is the end. Your end."
Perturabo said nothing.
"But you're finished! Nowhere to run! I know you. I know how you think! But I outsmarted you! You're trapped in here!"
Peturabo smiled wanly (Why did he smile?!) and replied. "You're right. This is the end. But there's something you missed."
Perturabo's eyes narrowed.
He hadn't he'd missed nothing.
He'd ignored the other branches because none of them led here.
But that sound, the sound of ceramite boots on a floor. What was it?!
Perturabo turned. Behind him, in the hall, advancing with a thunderhammer in his hands was Rogal Dorn.
Perturabo backed away. Backed away from both of them.
Perturabo was smiling. Perturabo was laughing at him. Dorn was laughing at him.
"You see, I learned from your mistakes."

And in that final moment before the hammer struck, Perturabo wasn't sure whom he hated more. Dorn or Perturabo.
I was fairly nervous, as I've never really read anything about the guy, so I just kind of took what wrote itself and ran with it.
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Oh yeah, here's a concept of the Void Reapers armor I was talking about the other night. (Had time in Japanese Lit)
Just wanted to get it up before I forgot.
Oh, and the guy has a pre-heresy lightning claw on one hand.
Anyone mind if I fluff out the Magnus part of the wiki? I really like the idea of him self destructing all over the Fate weaver.
Go for it.
go ahead, post it cause i imagine this will be really good.

also thats great, i love this alot.
Only one question about this entire scenario:
Wouldn't the loyal Primarchs just want revenge? We're assuming that Russ secretly was sad about fucking up Magnus. We're assuming Dorn forgives Perturabo after he shamed him. We're assuming the Lion isn't secretly a traitor. Are we just going to say that the loyalists were brought back to life or back into real space with no intentions of getting even? That's more than one question I know. I'm sorry.
Should Magnus have one eye or two? If he lost the eye to pay Tzeentch to stop the mutations in his legion, did that happen in the returned primarchs timeline as well?

I assumed that the surviving loyalist primarchs were still in the warp somewhere and might turn up. Imagine Russ1 turning up to find Russ2 and Magnus2 holding each other in a brotherly embrace of forgiveness. It's basically everything he wanted but it has happened to another Russ. He gunna be mad.
But again, you're assuming Russ even wants to be Magnus' friend.
Understand, I want this to succeed, very much so. I'm not criticizing, I just want this to be as good as possible. Unless the writefags and powers that be think it's a bad idea, what if I tried to poke holes in the stories? Not game breaking holes, just the same ones that everyone else will try to poke when they read this. I want this to be so damn great that jewdubs tries to take credit for it.
I think we're talking at slightly crossed purposes. The original premise was that this is before the Primarchs started to hate each other. So why would Russ want to kill Magus? And Dorn2 wasn't shamed by anyone, why would he attack Pert2 for something Pert1 did? If we assume they're going to take everything the alternate them did personally, then nothing works.
Alright then, you got me there. Also, shouldn't Magnus2 still have one eye? Didn't he give his eye up at the very beginning?
The multiple Perturabo's makes it a little hard to follow, but that's inevitable. I've read the whole thing twice and it's excellent!
I think (it has been a while since I read A Thousand Sons) that it was suggested he traded his eye with Tzeentch to make sure that his legion wouldn't suffer from mutations as they did before. So i think I'm going to go with it that they both have one eye.
Why is this being brought back? It was a stupid idea in the first place.
He stood upon a dead world of ash and bones, his hands tightly clutched around his spear. His back ached, the multitude of ‘holy’ sigils etched there smarting still. A part of his mind rebelled and railed against this word; holy. Belief and faith in the Empire was one thing, but to treat him as a god? It was the antithesis of all the great crusade had been about!

Deep breaths calmed Magnus enough to ease his mind into the familiar routines of battle meditation. He came here with a purpose so great and terrible he needed all the help he could get, whether or not he agreed with the philosophies of the grey armoured Astartes who had armed him. Slaying Daemons was their trade, after all, and he had come here to slay a daemon of unfathomable power, the one they named the crimson king.

Nikaea. That was the name of this rock. He was assured it meant a lot to the King, and that he would be unable to resist the challenge of activity on Nikaea. In truth, the crawling, scraping, bowing scholars that had suggested this place had been most vague as to why. He had been somewhat distracted at the time, as a dozen chanting knights had been carving 666 symbols into the flawless skin of his back. Now his mind sifted through the likely possibilities. Was the King defeated here? Humbled? Or is it the sight of a victory? A testament to his ruthless treatment of defeated worlds? It could mean everything or nothing.

Through the aether, he felt the quake. The second skin of reality seemed to tremble for a moment, shaken by the arrival of his target. He was not alone, however. In front of Magnus, next to the nexus of swirling energy that was the King stood a humanoid avian figure as tall as a Primarch. Its body seemed withered and twisted, however, perhaps because of the hideous mutation of an extra head. Its spindly hands clasped a huge staff that reeked of warp energy. It seemed that the daemon, and Magnus could think of no word to describe it so perfectly, was responsible for his foe’s arrival.

Yes, his foe. The twisting light slowly dimmed and dissipated until the figure was revealed. Magnus wasn’t sure what he had expected, other than that it would look at least somewhat like him. Whatever image had been in his mind, it wasn’t what stood before him. The King was, before everything else, clearly him. From his stature to the slight smile playing across his lips to the mane of red hair, yet each was a twisted. The smile was a little less kind and a bit more contemptuous, the hair a little bloodier and less regal. He wore interlocking plates of gold and blue armour, though it seemed more ornamental than practical, and bore a staff not unlike the daemon’s.

Magnus cleared his face of emotion and stepped forth. The King raised a hand and the daemon bowed and stepped back. Then the towering entity walked forwards to meet himself. When they were finally face to face, the King lifted his hand to touch his own empty socket.

“Together, we have a the correct amount of eyes”

On the dead world of Prospero, 18 figures stood. 2 sets of 9 warriors regarded each other. Both regarded each other with disgust and hatred. All, a teacher and student of the Great Ocean. Two Captains regarded each other.

Ahriman looked to his former self. A torrent of emotions washed over him. Anger, disgust, hope, envy, and despair. Likewise, his counter part also had a flood of emotions washed over him. Both controlled their emotions and powers through the use of the higher enumerations taught to them, by their Father.

"I assume you know why you are here." He said to his past.

"You intend to destroy me? Out of hate? Disgust?"

"No. I intend to do to you, as you have hoped to do to the Imperium and it's citizens. What I had hope to do."

Ahriman looked at him in the eyes.

"I intend to enlighten you. To our mistakes. Our despair. And our hopes. I believe, by having you know our fall, you can avoid our mistakes and attain our goal."

"I do not follow you. After all, do you not wish the destruction of mankind all for your own goals?" Ahriman spat with venom towards his twisted self.

"No... I do not. I seek our redemption. Our salvation. Father may have forsaken us. Some of our Legion, our Brothers, have forsaken us as well, but I have not. I am loyal still and all I care, is to prove our worth. Our strength. Our loyalty."

"After the destruction of our home.... What caused the destruction of our Legion? Our brotherhood?"

"Much. Father forsaken us, trying to scry into the far, far future, to assure himself. Meanwhile, I had tried to save us, only to damn us to a slow and agonizing undeath."

He sighed.

"But that is a tale for another time. Now, I must hand this to you. It is time you carry our burden, our knowledge, our hope, and our salvation."

He handed the scarlet warrior a leather bound grimoire.

"It is my life's work. My shame, my pride and the start of your journey, and the galaxy's salvation."

> Did you rike it?
Magnus didn’t reply, his jaw clenched. He could feel the power seeping for every atom of the King’s being. Even when standing before his father on the steps of the Imperial palace on Terra, he had never been so sure that the being who stood before him was his superior in psychik might. It was insane to even dream of fighting the king. Had they known that went they sent him here? It mattered not. The King’s failure was his as well and he would wash it away with blood, and he cared not from whence it flowed. Magnus prepared to begin his assault, with magic and mind as well as tooth and nail.

“Hold Brother. I am not here to fight you. I had to see”

These words cut through Magnus’s concentration perfectly. He stopped readying his mind for the oncoming floor and considered the King’s words.

“You had to see what?” He said at length.

The King smiled sadly.

“I had to see if it was true. They said you were me, but they were wrong. You are more than I am, than I ever was. You haven’t failed. You won’t fail. You will be what I should have been. I only ask that you remember my last act, not those that lead up to it”

Magnus wrinkled his brow in confusion, all attempt at seeming impassive and aloof forgotten.

“I do not understand. They told me you were a traitor, an unrepentant enemy of the Emperor. What happened to you?”

Now the King’s smile collapsed into a look of despair.

“Much happened to me. I never sought to betray him, please believe that. All I wished was to warn him and to save him... but I disobeyed him. In the end, I am as guilty as any of my brothers. Now I must say goodbye, Magnus the red, for I have one last spell to cast”

Go read rise of the tau. basically 50k-60k end of times

So saying, the king turned and strode towards his daemon accomplice. The thing opened its mouths to speak and Magnus could feel its infernal mind spreading through the air. But the King stopped both with a single gesture, holding it immobile until he stood before it. He reached out and gripped it by the throat, pulling it close. Magnus just heard the words that came from his lips, despite the growing roar of the winds and crackle of the warp.

“Didn’t see this one coming, did you?”

Now Magnus could see, with the eye closed to the material world, what the king was doing. All that power was being turned inwards, twisted back on itself again and again, each twist making it more potent and less stable. The daemon was struggling to escape but the King was twisting its essence into his own. The only conclusion of the spell would be the destruction of both and the psychic ruin of the entire planet. Magnus spent less than a second calculating the odds of escaping the planet before the King completed the spell and dismissed them. He would witness this with his last seconds, a worthy end to a life of magic.

Then the spell changed. The mass of energy was no longer twisting inwards. Some of it flew through the aether, further and faster than even Magnus could follow it. He could easily guess its destination, however. It was aimed at where he had left his legion and for a moment he feared for the fate of his sons. The King, surrounded by impossible and unthinkable energies never meant to be gathered in one place, turned to Magnus and smiled.

“I will not let them be used against you as they were against me. Never again shall a Son fall to the flaws of his flesh”

Then his eyes closed and the energy swallowed him and the struggling daemon completely. An orb of sheer oblivion swelled for a few seconds, swallowing much of the ground in front of Magnus but stopping just in front of his armoured feet. He felt the mental presence of both the King and the daemon simply... vanish. The great ocean was still for a moment as the orb dissipated then exploded into a terrible storm. Warp travel around Nikaea would be impossible for some weeks, but that was not Magnus was thinking of. Instead, he wondered whether he had heard what he thought he had just before the climax of the destructive power.

“Father, forgive me and forget me. Magnus will be all that I should have been”

>I feel like I rushed the ending a little, but I'm fairly pleased with it.
Hell yeah.
captcha: paernsc sons
damm straight captcha. Them Sons
So I sincerely believe that Magnus has the power to revive the Emperor. Hear me out before you go on about the Astronomicon and shit. Magnus IS a fantastic Psyker and so are the Thousand Sons (duh). So Magnus goes down to the Golden Throne with a few thousand warriors. Seeing his father's corpse-like body during his first return visit to Terra shook him to his very core. He knows that despite his power and the good intentions of his brothers, they need the Emperor now more than ever. For the first time in ten thousand years, times are changing. Mankind has a chance to turn the tide of chaos and once again retake the galaxy.

He approaches the Throne as his warriors rise through the Enumerations. Opening himself to the warp, he's nearly blinded by the light of the Astronomicon. Over the thousands of years the light has dimmed a bit, a very worrying development. He drops to his knees and places his hands through the stasis field, grabbing the Emperor's robe.

Days, weeks, months pass. His marines have been taking rotating shifts of 666 members of six choirs, communing with Magnus and fueling his efforts. The strain on these psychic warriors is immense, but their Primarch bears the brunt of the Chaotic onslaught attempting to prevent him from completing this most crucial task. The first two months are spent in preparation for the task ahead, his sons providing a bulwark of psychic energy while he completes the delicate rituals needed to call the energy needed to revitalize the Emperor. The next three are spent with his sons battling and purging the denizens of the warp and preventing daemons from possessing even one of the many warriors gathered. One month is spent channeling the warp, gathering enough energy for the final phase.

its good, seems like you left it on a bit of a cliffhanger but it is really good.
It's ok, I just don't like the "I'm still loyal though!" Thing every chaos factions trying to go for. First the alphas, not the Thousand Sons.

I want the current Chaos villains to be twisted, like horus was when he meet the emperor. There's no tragedy to the tale if everyone just hugs and makes up
On the first day of the seventh month, the tipping point is reached. Magnus has not moved an inch, his sons out of rotation from the choir tend to the many wounds that have appeared on his body.

Throughout the entire ritual, the Custodes have kept watch on the Thousand Sons. They have trained on them their most devastating weapons that can be wielded so close to the Golden Throne. Their orders are clear. If at any moment they have even the slightest reason to believe the Emperor's well being to be in jeopardy they are to eliminate all members of the Thousand Sons and take their Primarch into custody.

Despite their best precautions, a few of the marines do succumb to the warp. Corruption soon appears and discord is sewn through the Choirs. The Thousand Sons have planned for this though. Each member of a choir has a watcher, a brother marine who stands vigil over his charge. The second any sign of corruption is detected, a bolt shell is put through the back of the corrupted marine's head. The longest outbreak of corruption recorded during this event was exactly thirty-five seconds long, the delay in granting the Emperor's Peace attributed to a jam in the watcher's bolt pistol. He was reprimanded and placed under censure, his punishment to be decided after his Primarch returns from the aether.

I have to agree with this. It makes sense for Magnus to do what was outlined on the wiki and has now been fluffed, and could makes sense that Alpharius was always loyal but if we have any others making up it's going to be crap.

Actually, how many have fought? Dorn2 and Pert2 took down Pert1, Fulgrim2 and Ferrus2 took out Fulgrim1, but isn't that it?
But even if the alpha legion and thousand sons were loyal in 30k, they shouldn't be in 40k, otherwise 40k really isn't the hopeless hellhole it's meant to be.

One thing I'm going to say right now. I won't be impressed if the new arrives beat the shit out of all the daemon princes... It will just come across as too much of a loyal primarch circlejerk and everyone wanting a happy ending.
On the second day of the seventh month, the battle against the beings attempting to prevent the Emperor's resurrection has been won. After the tipping point was reached just a day before, an aura appeared around Lord Magnus. The Rites inscribed on his back began to glow, then burn. Golden flames licked the shimmering air around his body. His grasp on his Father's robe tightened. Sweat poured down his body in thick rivers, pooling beneath him.

The Choirs of Resurrection began to howl and the room's temperature dropped significantly. The Custodes surrounding the Thousand Sons began to shift and stir, the change in the Choirs and the Primarch proving to be highly unnerving to them. All members of the Thousand Sons joined in with the Choirs, lending their strength to their genefather.

A new light burned next to the Astronomicon. Not nearly as bright or powerful, but bright enough to be seen by Astropaths close to Terra. Thousand Sons began to burn out, slaving their life essence to the new beacon. Each marine who perished were witnessed to simply burst into gold and crimson fire which was drawn toward and into the trembling Magnus. In all, eight hundred and seventy three marines gave their lives.

The room was silent. Not even the constant background noise of the Golden Throne's quiet humming could be heard. Light began pouring into the room, the source was Magnus himself. For the first time in seven months he let go of his Father, tears of liquid fire streaming down his cheeks. Bright red wings of flame hung behind his back, his one eye, now open, shimmering and dancing with thousands of shades of colors.

"Thousands of years ago, the one who both is and is not me undid your greatest work. I turned on you, the one who gave me life, the most perfect being to stride the stars and delve the immaterium. The one who is both I and not I not only destroyed that work, but along with the other traitors attempted to destroy your Empire in the name of false gods. On that day thousands of years ago your most trusted son turned your body into a corpse. On this day thousands of years later, with the return of your sons, with the power you gave me, you, through me, restore this blessed body so that you may once again lead us against the enemies of man. We are your generals, we are your servants, we are your sons. From you came me, and now from me returns you."

With the words he needed to say finally said, Magnus turned his head to the sky, his mouth agape, his eye wide, and his hands raised in praise. White hot light poured forth and pooled around the Golden Throne, the chants of the Choirs reaching their climax. A mighty shout was raised, streaming out along with the light through Magnus' open mouth. The light pooled around the Throne appeared to be drawn up through the Emperor's feet, giving his body a steadily brightening golden glow.

None could look upon the Golden Throne, for the blazing inferno that raged around it seared the eyes of all who tried to gaze upon the wondrous sight. Magnus, his role now fulfilled, leaned wearily against a column as Ahriman rushed over with food and water. Magnus had not ate, drank, or slept for all these long months.

For five days Magnus slept and for five days the inferno of light engulfed the Golden Throne. On the fifth day the light began to die down and strange creaking noises could be heard from within the torrent. A loud burst like that of a thousand warriors teleporting to the surface of a planet with a particularly dense atmosphere rang out and a being of golden light descended the stairs toward Magnus. (cont)
All eyes were cast down, all bodies prostrated before the wondrous being of golden light before them. Any person even remotely in the path of the being scrambled to clear a path. Through this, Magnus slept, his chest rising and falling.

The figure who could only be the Emperor of Mankind knelt before his son and drank in the sight before him. What was once one of his most beautiful and regal creations was marred with bruises and lesions throughout his body, his aura flickering like a torch in a windstorm. Not even when his traitorous self flew from Prospero many years ago had he exerted so much strength, poured forth so much of himself into a psychic exertion. The Emperor lowered his hand and brushed away the bright crimson mane from Magnus' forehead. He extended one finger towards the center of his son's forehead and placed his other hand on his own chest.

Instantly the many bruises and lesions covering Magnus disappeared, his aura once again burning bright. Magnus' eye snapped open and with a sharp intake of breath he jerked his upper body vertical. For the first time in ten thousand years, Magnus looked into his Father's eyes.

Before he could say anything, The Emperor lifted one hand to the blank spot above his cheek where Magnus' eye once sat. When his hand was removed, his eye had returned. Tears rolled down the Crimson King's cheeks, the pain of the long months spent battling the forces of Chaos on their own turf evaporating in an instant.

For the first time in over ten thousand years, The Emperor of Mankind, the being most humans revered as a god, spoke:

"My son, I am here."

and then they fucked
I just wrote that on the fly but that's something like how I'd imagine it to go down. What do you guys think? Magnus seems like he'd be powerful enough to revitalize a not-completely dead body over the course of seven months with assistance from his legion. I just wrote that on the fly so sorry if it doesn't seem grandiose enough. I figure it's enough of a skeleton to work off of though. Timeframe could be changed as well but I'd like to keep Magnus in trance for the entire duration no matter what. Fucker's having to deal with all this psychic energy flowing his way and is most likely communing with the Emperor's spirit trying to convince him to come back.

Also I'd imagine that Magnus would take the Emp's place on the Golden Throne after the Emp gives it a tune up so Big E can go get shit together while Magnus takes control of the Astronomicon. The Emp's original plan was for Magnus to sit on the Golden Throne and work the Webway for the Empire so I think it's a pretty realistic situation.
So is Lorgor going to stick with the God Emperor thing? I don't know how he'd feel seeing as his other self also wrote the Book of Lorgar with as much fervor as the Lectitio Divinatus
Lorgarfag here, with another something.

Another day, another population put to the axe.
It had become so damn routine to Kharn the Betrayer that it was almost impossible think about anything else other than how boring it was to kill these ordinary people. So when word came of Space Marines coming to this planet, it had given the Chosen of Khorne hope that this day could be salvaged somehow.

It was almost an insult to send the entire Word Bearers fleet to a single planet, much less to kill a single man, but this was a goodwill mission. Lorgar wanted to have the people on his side.
Instead of that overkill, it was Argel Tal who took the charge. Argel Tal had, after the public execution of Kor Phaeron, become the new First Captain of the Legion. While Lorgar felt that the notion was almost too prophetic in nature for the man who was the Crimson Lord of this timeline, he had let it pass as the captain had an incorrigible sense of honour. Tal took with him an elite company to ensure that only one man was responsible.

The Betrayer had certainly seen weirder stuff before in the warp, but this was a first. In front of him stood a warrior in immaculate grey armor, a book adorned to his left pauldron. Even more pressing was the notion he was getting. He didn't even know he had notions.
"I recognize you from somewhere. Where was it?"
Argel Tal responded, "I surely do not recognize you, red fiend."
It was ridiculous. His job was to slaughter, so why was he thinking? What was it about this stranger that had Kharn's mind racing?
"Say..." Forget it. The memory will come eventually. He took a single swipe with Gorechild.
"A poorly chosen first move. I had too much room to block you."
Somebody dared criticize his fighting technique? He, the son of Khorne? What madness-no, wait. The memories again... Ages ago, before his armor had so much blood on it. Damn it, who was this person?
"I know you from somewhere, Astartes!" Another swing with Gorechild. Another parry. Again. Again. "I WILL find out, even if I need to kill you before then!"
Argel Tal was humored by the butcher's words. "I just have to incense you enough to remember then?"
"I will NOT be made mocked, much less to a corpse-slave!" This was better, Kharn thought. Kill, don't think. As a matter of fact, stop thinking. Thinking gets in the way of killing.

Another parry, this time using Kharn's momentum to force Gorechild to the ground, and then kicking him square in the ribs and then using that same spin to swipe his sword, leaving a scratch upon his helm. This man had to have learned that move from somewhere. Moreso, he had to have learned it in a Gladiator Pit. Wait...
"You almost seem to fight like Kharn." What? His name? "So much anger, and he finds the only release for it in killing."
"You know me." The Betrayer took rise. "YOU KNOW ME!! WHY DON'T I REMEMBER YOU?!"
Argel Tal smirked. "Hardly my fault."
Kharn then took notice of the prow of the Astartes craft. A Two-headed eagle, the bawdy trinket of that Imperium. Funny, it was under the shadow of one of these that he saw the corpse of...
"Ah, so you do have a mind."
This was perfect! He remembered now, that Word Bearer he was friends with once! Okay, friend was a bit of a stretch for World Eaters, but it was something!
"Now I remember...! Now I have a reason to kill you!"
Argel Tal cocked his head. "Would that mean I recognize you?"
Kharn raised Gorechild high in the air. "Know this, Colchisian! I am Kharn the Betrayer, Chosen of Khorne, Butcher of Legions! I will kill everyone and their skulls will go to Khorne!" He lowered his chainaxe and then turned around.
"Does this mean you're a coward, too?"

Kharn stopped. A violent glare erupted. "You misunderstand me. I do not need to kill you. I already had my fill. But next time I hunger, know that you will be next."
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Everyone Steals Alpharius' Schtick: the Setting
To be fair, now Alpharius gets to be four Primarchs.
The goal I was trying to put forward was that Lorgar's faith shouldn't be upon the concept that a man is a god, but it should focus upon the mission of protecting man. The mission was the reason for the Great Crusade. The mission should be more vital than the man.

Now, upon having Lorgar meet himself, I'll leave that to a probably more competent writefag.
can't tell if I like guilliman's or alpharius' expression more in that
fucking Commorgh's shit up? I could see him leading a slave revolt with recently captured Dark eldar as meat shields for his new horde
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It was nice, this being the centerpiece of a second battle of Terra would be allright in my book

I'd been thinking only dead/evil primarchs got remade, the other ones just sort of returned. *shrugs*
It is all so up in the air because of the uncertainty of their death to begin with.

Not like it'd change a whole lot if one of them was dead.
Thanks, I could see this happening while our solar system is embroiled in the birth pangs and death howls of the Empire and Imperium.
I decided to try to right up something for Mortarion along the lines of the way he defeated his Daemon Prince self.

Around Mortarion his legion was dying, the vile plague that had wracked this world and brought his "counterpart" here had run its course through his marines. The sick were swiftly executed, he would not make the same mistake as his damned twin had. In the ruins of what was once a hive he stood with the last line of defence his marines had put up, nowhere to run and a horde of nurgles vilest servants immune to pain and the fear it brings charging towards them,
their predecessors vile with weak will and corruption. Pathetic is the only word that could come to his mind as he opened his mouth and in his grave voice he spoke to his marines "These pathetic hordes wish to see us dead and broken, but we have not bowed like our predecessors. We held our strength and endured the worst plagues these foul creatures god could create. AND WE HAVE ENDURED! AS WE ALWAYS HAVE! NOW I EXPECT YOU PROVE TO THESE WRETCHES WHY THE DEATH GUARD IS THE MOST STALWART LEGION AND WHY WE WILL ALWAYS ENDURE COMPARED TO THESE WEAKLINGS. NOW ON ME MEN WE WILL MAKE THEIR PATHETIC MASTER REGRET SENDING HIS "DEATH GUARD" TOWARDS US. FORWARD FOR THE IMPERIUM, FORWARD FOR REDEMPTION!"
And so with an uncharacteristic yell the remaining Death Guard charged. Mortarion bounded ahead his power scythe cutting down plague marines, ripping their foul insides out of them. When at last he spotted the one he had hoped would come. A great black shroud covered the towering figure, a great rotting scythe dripping with the foulest plagues of nurgle's creation pointed at him as his deathly voice cracked "You... Impostor, come accept your death." Mortarion grinned "We shall see who endures you weakling, I will not bow so easily as you!"
He ran forward slicing his scythe at the torso of the cloaked one who easily blocked it with his own the rot rusting Mortarion Scythe. "You are slow..."
fuck that last line should be Mortarion's Scythe

The figure hissed, Mortarion jumped back as the figure's scythe tore apart the ground he stood on moments ago. "And you are weak willed!" He ran forward ducking low and around the figure his scythe raking along his back ripping apart his black cloak, as it fell he could see the corruption it hid. Foul boils and sloughing skin covered the daemon primarch his flesh stripped bare on his hands. He looked at a visage of corruption that parodied his own. "Gaze on what true power looks like..."
The figure whipped around before Mortarion could so much as blink and brought his scythe down on the kneeling primarch, he only had time to block it with the his own scythe which shattered from the blow a great light blasting him back. Mortarion coughed and looked at his battered armor; then his weapon, it was shattered but so was his counterparts who hissed at him "Come accept your death."
Mortarion spied a ruined edge of his scythe shattered on the ground. "Never."
He jumped up with inhuman speed and grabbed the edge driving it through the eye of his foul counterpart a sickening squelch as his eye and the puss that filled it popped. "I will endure."
He ripped it out tearing a chunk out of the daemon prince's head and the sent it through his neck "My death guard will endure you pathetic fool."
He looked around, the battle had not stalled around him and as the traitor's saw their prince destroyed by a mere mortal they began to run, not fast enough though as the remaining death guard cut them down. Mortarion raised his voice "WE ARE REDEEMED BROTHERS! THE WEAKNESS HAS BEEN PURGED! FOR THE IMPERIUM!"
A cheer rose up, and Mortarion allowed himself to smile... The coming weeks were arduous, the remains of the Daemonic Primarch was thrown into a boiling vat of silver then cooled and covered in the greatest wards possible before being put into a stasis field and thrown into the core of a dark planet only Mortarion knew the location of. His legion was broken, but they would endure and grow strong again and once more guard the weak from death.
Hmm, a lot better than I could do, but the whole behaviour doesn't seem very morty. For a serious, silent type of guy to be grinning and battle crying throughout his fight doesn't seem to suit, but that's just my opinion
What.... if.... he... becomes the Kabal's man in Commoragh?!
Jagatai becomes the Khan/Pimp master of an entire Dark Eldar/rescued human horde! Like he's just vaguely in society enough to buy slaves and rescue prisoners, but he does it via proxies and when he does appear, he's always masked.
Anyways, he's a pirate admiral. He has a horde of raiders and does the whole crazy space mongol, but with Dark Eldar tech?!
So he goes and wrecks Chaos shit or what-have-you, corrupt govenors, things like that, anything they need destroyed that they don't want traced back to the Imperium or to Alpha Legion?
Just letting you know I really enjoyed reading your idea. I like it.
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Yeah, do this
It sounds cool to me. I might change up the numbers so that they're all linked by either the Number of Tzneetch or by a new holy number of the Emperor (I think he digs fibbonacci numbers or primes).
So instead of seven months, 9 months or some number of days devisible by nine and instead of 35 seconds of corruption, 36 seconds. (36 being 4*9)

And that'd be awesome. >>30798686
It'd get stormier and stormier, and chaos would mount an ever increasing offensive. Hordes of daemons at the gates and inside, Magnus, master of the Grey Knights, Magnus, Lance of the Emperor, is in a trance, his legion in choirs at the throne. Lorgar is leading everyone in prayer, slaying daemons all around, the legions are being pushed back, even into the palace, since whatever Magnus is doing is destabilizing the warp. And then something kind of like this happens:
The immaterium itself opens, it unfolds like Ramiel, and the rows of daemons, souls, angels are revealed, the wings of some stranger dawn lift and the towers of the Chaos gods crumble. Daemons are dissolved in a heavy, almost searing light. Music falls like molten iron in a cascade over the throne. As it spills over the emperor, the corpse burns down to the bone. The skeleton lifts into the air and is clad in the chants of the faithful and the blood of the martyrs. It is literally like 3rd Impact, except only the dead dissolve and are absorbed.
And the Emperor is made whole. He awakens and is suspended above the ground at the foot of his throne. He floats slowly down and when his feet touch blessed terra, the shock wave blows back the imaterium, the wings of the unreal rolling back into the heavens, that which should not be seen by mortal man folds back into space. (Think Ramiel.)

That's how the Emps returns, with the death screams of ten million million daemons as his heralds and with his sons gathered about him, defending him as he prepared.
I'll have to write it later-- got midterms, but I really like the idea of a captured White Scar being led out of Commoragh and through the webway in chains, part of a train of prisoners. Expecting an ever worse fate as the Kabalite Warriors who bought him and the rest at market change off to still stranger Eldar, who have strange and light movements, who never speak and never stop moving.

He feels dread as he realizes they're looking at him. Watching him intently.
They reach some sort of fortress in the webway, and he is led off, separated. They lead him through a warren of tunnels bathed in witchfire. He assumes he's been brought to a haemonculus or something worse.
But there in the throne room is a massive figure in a cloak, and when he turns to the marine, the marine can't help but feel some strange affinity. It's almost like the vague and mostly erased memories he has of his father, back when he'd been a child on Mundus Planus. He feels hope, even though the figure smiles and laughs and speaks to the Witch Eldar in attendance. Then he speaks to the marine, "Don't you recognize me, my son? Don't you know you are welcome in my halls?"

6 months later, the marine is leading a group to go assasinate a corrupt governor, making it look like Dark Eldar.
I like all the hings this adds to the magnus story.

I think that Daemon Prince Mortarion died too easily. Angron had to outsmart DP Angron while DP Fulgrim and DP Perturbo were double-teamed by two primarchs.
Mortarion died rather easily, he was just stabbed at the last moment.

It would have probably helped if it explained more of the fight rather than the end.
Had the Mortarions been at this for a damnably long time? How much of their legions actually kept their pace alongside the two?

The big selling point of Morty was his inability to ever frikkin' die, so there has to be something that perhaps knocks one of them off-balance. Perhaps Daemon Morty used up some really big plagues too soon, or M2 had kept some forbidden weaponry to kill the pestilence? Something that weakens him slowly, glacially, to the point where a shard of a broken power-scythe would be enough to undo the daemon.
Well what caused M's fall?
Hatred of Psykers? What made him hate E-Wagon so much?
Once you figure that out, the key to defeating him well should pop out. (I think.)

I think Mortarion fell due to getting caught in a Warp Storm, suffering the effects of diseases and then having the brilliant idea of trying to cure those diseases by worshiping Nurgle. I don't know the details. I've haven't gotten to that point in the Horus Heresy series yet.
Magnus writefaggot here, good call on the numbers, I was just pulling them out of my ass as I wrote the story.
that sir is sneaky, and its awesome.
His fall to chaos was explained by >>30811301
The thing that made him join Horus, though, was the possibility that the Emperor was turning into another power-hungry tyrant.

See, back on Barbarus, his adoptive father was one of the biggest warlords on that world and pretty much lived in a mansion that stood high in the toxic atmosphere and had a massive wall at the front. These warlords pretty much spent all their time either fighting each other or killing random citizens. Morty didn't like that and began taking them down. Eventually, he built up a legion of people and by the time they were ready, the Big E (in disguise) challenged him to take down his dad's mansion. Morty pushed through, but by that point he pretty much reached his limit and then Surprise-Emprah-save!
If the Emperor was one of these warlords too, then he'd be pretty much back on square one and be forced to fight a tyrant who was undoubtedly better than him in every way.
...So... Motadrimbus basically said SIC SEMPER TYRANIS and joined up with Horus... and then after... he stayed true to his ideals... by becoming a dirty hippy? By which I mean nurglite.
Besides the minor defect of being completely unable to into reasonable, Motrin-Max's flaw was that he was too Republican? Which means that the only way to defeat him is....

Short of proving how much of an awesome guy the Emprah is, lethally; or using the rising of the proletariat?
I'm not seeing a good way to kill him on screen.
Wait! I've got an idea! I think it'll piss everyone off, like literally everyone, but bear with me and as soon as I figure out how, I'll try writing a scene:
Morichismo was always a bit of a 'hero of the common man', sticking up for the good, honest farmer. A hero for the little people. And he realized, in the great crusade, that the galaxy is a big place, and that there's big things going down, big ideas. Frankly, that's kind of scary for some. Some people just want to plow their fields and grow their corn. They want to read their simple books and go to bed. They don't want some giant god-man coming down and telling them they're part of this big galaxy and this big empire, that they need to develope themselves, expand, reach for more. They were content as they were and the whole idea of change kind of scares them. And Mooch gets that. He knows that last time he tried to be a hero, he almost died, he's not hero-stuff. He's just a common-man, a little guy. But the Emperor won't listen! And if that isn't bad enough, he keeps talking about human potential and how we can all seize greatness, how if we try, we can make something better. And there are these psykers, they can really shake things up. All this makes the little people uncomfortable. But Moribito isn't a mover and shaker, he's just one of the guys, but then Horus, proposes casting down the Emps. And Morbius finally sees his chance. He's got the chance to do something so that way everyone can be ok as they are, so that mediocrity can reign. So he takes it, on behalf of the little people everywhere.
And en route, he meets Nurgle, and Nurgle loves you exactly as you are. Finally someone who isn't making change and talking about big ideas! Someone who raises mediocrity as greatness. And in a nurgle horde, it isn't about being clever or strong, it's about taking it to the face. You don't even have to think about it and that's the greatest gift of all. >cont
Anyways, he realizes this and this is why he's so cool with Nurgle, death and disease being the great equalizer and all that. It means that the Hero and the failed-Hero are equal, that it's ok to not have to try, to die and rise as a zombie and shamble about. Who's better? The artist who spends all that time and effort to make the statue, or the common man who smashes it?

But then M2 comes along. And he has a new perspective on things.
The Emperor is a visionary. The Emperor is a facilitator, even as he was a facilitator on Barbarus. M2 brought light to the peasants and by giving it to them, taught them to find the heroism within themselves.
The Emps and thus M2 are there to provide the space and the liberty for the rest of humanity to become individuals. What he'd missed before was that each person can have their own sort of greatness, their own heroism, and that the noble farmer he thought he so admired is not the enshrinement of mediocrity, but celebrating a man who's every effort is expended in his work, who's work is his life. No, not everyone is equal. There are the great and the little, but the greatness of the Emperor is not a threat, but an opportunity to find the best in oneself.
Thus, the Deathguard is no longer a slow plague advancing, a creeping death, it is a fire, the creeping of a new dawn. Not dusk raiders, but dawn bringers.
So when he fights the Death Guard, M2 and his legion are the irresistible flames of rebirth.

I personally like the idea that M2 leads his army further and further into M1's toxic miasma, The Lantern no longer a will-o-wisp, but a beacon. He manages to reach M1, but he's alone, his armor corroding, the toxins choking. He tries fighting, but he can barely see. He empties his plasma pistol into M1, who just laughs and takes it as flesh sloughs off his corrupt form.
M1 just advances 'cease your struggles, join me. You don't need to worry about greatness or victory, you're perfect as you are.'
M2 slumps over, M2 can't take much more. M1 comes to embrace him, to corrupt him. But when M2 touches M1 the unexpected happens. All the primarchs have at least latent psyker traits, right? Well, the creeping purging nature of disease has its mirror in cleansing flame. Both advance implacably, but where one leaves only decay, the other leaves ashes, from which new life can grow.
Since M2 is a Daemon, M1's advance towards him was something of an advance into the warp and it is now that M2's psyker tendencies reveal themselves. His body combusts. It's a blue flame, less witchfire than the flame of swamp gas, but it is more a nimbus which expands into a mandorla. M1 tries to squelch it with muck, but he can't, the muck catches. The flames burn off the corruption, everything becomes light.

Either M1 burns completely in the fires of M2's determination or the light in the warp catches the attention of someone else, who has been waiting for the signal and they headshot M1 with humanity transcendant or some shit like that.
Point is, M1 is all I'mma enshrine mediocrity and M2 is all I'm HOWARD FUCKING ROARK SMASH.
So M1 is Kanye West.

You done good, son.
Bump. Preparing something of my own.
Now to figure out how to make it into an actual story instead of the outline for one. >_<
To be honest, with the time range involved, linked flashbacks from a start 'Moritarion was ablaze' might work. That or it could be done in several distinct dan, sort of like Ise Monogatari.

Oooh, looking forward to it. To be honest, this setting has kind of inspired a lot of the more interesting writefaggotry I've come across.
>Deliverance, The RavenSpire
Corax stood behind his desk, gazing out the transparent bulkhead that served as a window. The Forge world of Kiavahr filled the space before him. Deliverance was on the night-side of the planet, and Corax could see the spiderwebbed traceries of the forges and habs spread out across the surface. He tried to match the layouts he saw with his memories of how the planet had looked in his time. His attention wandered for a moment, and his eyes focussed on the surface of the window... and the Space Marine reflected in it. Corax rotated on the balls of his feet, turning the face the silent astartes. The Marine's armour was pitted with bullet-holes and marks that seemed to have come from axes, but Corax could make out the insignia of a Captain. The Marine noticed Corax' eyes searching his plate, and spoke:
"The biggest Waaagh the Segmentum has ever seen is heading towards Deliverance. The entire chapter is engaged in operations to slow or divert it, but I had to come and see you myself."
Corax seethed at the thought that Orks could now threaten the worlds of his, or any, Legion, but his attention was drawn back to the present as the Captain removed his helmet. Pushing dark hair out of his eyes, the space marine saluted, and spoke again
"Kayvaan Shrike. When Orks have nightmares, mine is the face they see."
Any good? This is literally the first piece of writefaggotry I've ever posted, so there's bound to be some problems with it.
Corax strode down the narrow corridors of the Ravenspire, his long stride threatening to overtake Shrike. As they walked, Shrike was prising off pieces of his armour, which he would hand to various serfs that they met on their way.
"Where are we going?"
Corax' voice was soft, the marine seemed highly strung, as though he would lash out at the slightest provocation.
"Refectory; I'm starving. Not eaten anything more nutritious than rations for months."
The marine halted suddenly, nearly causing Corax to walk into him. In front of them was a serf, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle in his hand and nervously fiddling with the hem of his robe.
"Vincente, wasn't it?"
The serf nodded jerkily, and held the bundle out to Shrike.
"Yes milord. My wife made these for you after our daughter recovered."
Shrike took the bundle and delicately unwrapped it. There were three small bread rolls in the center of the cloth. The scent of fresh bread tripped a switch in Corax' brain and his mouth watered, reminding him that he himself had not eaten for days.
"Give your wife my thanks," said Shrike "this is just what I needed."
Beaming, the serf nodded and strode away. Shrike waited until he was out of sight, and then stuffed one of the rolls, whole, into his mouth.
The marine's eyelids fluttered with delight as he chewed and the two resumed walking.
Corax waited until the marine had swallowed before raising a questioning brow.
"His daughter had just given birth when I arrived here." The marine explained, struggling with one of his gauntlets, which appeared to have seized up,
"They couldn't stop the bleeding, and the surgeon was on the other side of the spire. I lent a hand." Shrike held up his freed hand, dried blood was caked under his fingernails.
"Some basic sutures were all it needed, I've sewn my own face up so many times, I could do it in freefall."
Corax' mind withdrew as he pondered this. It was refreshing to see that not everything had changed since his time. His Raven Guard were still the same. Shrike tapped him on the arm, bringing Corax' full attention back to him.
"Hold this"
The marine held out the, to Corax, tiny bundle of bread, as he attempted to reach the seal for his gorget. Taking the bundle, Corax watched as the Captain detached first the power plant of his armour, and then unfastened the seals of his chestplate. Corax wrinkled his nose with distaste at the wash of foul-smelling air that rushed out of the marine's opened armour. As the marine stretched, groaning as the vertebrae on his back clunked, Corax found his voice:
"Why are you here?"
The marine squinted at him for a second and then spoke
"Why am I here? I am here because, just as Abbadon's headbutted his way through the Cadian gate, Octavius has turned into Fabius Bile's wet dream and the Orks are battering down our doors, our prayers seemed to have been answered, with interest, and the Primarchs have returned out of legend. I am here to see if you are actually here, and the whole situation isn't because an Ork's finally got lucky and planted his axe in my head and you're not my oxygen-starved brain misfiring."
Corax was amused
"Do I pass muster, then?"
Shrike seemed to deflate, as though his rant had taken all the air out of him.
"Yeah. You seem real enough".
Anyone else reading these?
Corax attempted to change the subject:
"Will we be returning to the front?"
"I will be, you are staying here. We need to seek help from the other Chapters, and you're our best asset on that front"
Corax bristled:
"Who are you to order me?" He glanced at the marine's rank insignia
"3rd Company Captain? Where is the Chapter Master, or the 1st captain?"
Shrike glowered up at Corax
"No-one's seen flesh nor feather of the Chapter Master since before I was born, and the 1st captain got stepped on by a gargant, he's dead."
Before Corax could reply, Shrike went on,
"2nd Captain, Solari, has been MIA for nearly 2 months now, so the Orks are probably drinking out of his skull by now."
Corax stared, this was bad
"I am now the highest ranking member of the Raven Guard left, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do."
Shrike fell silent, Corax drew himself up to his full height and spoke with an authority that came easily:
"It sounds as though we have our work cut for us then,"
Shrike looked up warily as Corax continued
"Meet me in the armour bay in 30 minutes, I need to see if any of my equipment is still around."
I'm unsure of how to proceed from here, whether to have Corax accompany Shrike to the warfront, or to have him meet some of the other returned Primarchs. Assuming anyone is actually reading these, what do you think?

I like Shrike's dry wit.
Admittedly, we have next to nothing on the Raven Guard's structure, so there's little we can say that can help canon-wise.

As for where next: go ahead, bring the Primarch to the field. Someone else can cover reuniontimes. We may have had many all-out wars, but a sneaky one's always a treat to read.
Is this thing working now?
This thing is incredibly awesome and should be written.

Also considering other major characters, how about throwing some non-Astartes characters (Eisenhorn) into the mix? Like psykers or powerful souls that could withstand the warp-related mischief of Chaos and be instrumental.

I mean Astartes are awesome, but what makes the Empire really cool is how the simple guys can do great things because they wield adamantium-filled balls of manliness (Ollanius for example, or dunno, Gaunt). It gives perspective in a way.
Yeah, especially if there's to be a fully fledged work here, it needs to have conflict
that being said: Magnus turning against chaos in his last moments feels absolutely appropriate
It fits the character perfectly IMHO. Also I think that Horus as a character would have a certain conflict with Emperor after returning. I mean, the heresy itself was a result of a massive misunderstanding, but there were a lot of unresolved issues between the two. If I were in Horus' boots, I'd surely go all WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NOT TELL ME EVERYTHING DAD, even if I did it knowing full well that I was in the wrong.
Now it is, good Ravenfag. Please, continue.
I want to see pre-heresy Abaddon meet his M41 self. Bet it'd be really awkward. Bonus points if Torgaddon makes some kind of "love at first sight crack".
Now that I think about, it the moment that Horus was REALLY shown as a man who betrayed everything that humanity stands for is when he struck down Ollanius. Because fighting big E was fighting against the tyrant. Striking down Ollanius - he strikes at the simple man, a human who stands for what he believes in even for the cost of his life - which is mortal, unlike that of an Astartes who live indefinitely (at least until they die in battle).

So to really atone, to really meet himself, Horus would not fight Horus1 - since Horus1 got his soul shattered and no longer exists. He would have to somehow face Ollanius - not Sanguinius, not Emperor - all of that comes later - he would first need to atone in front of the dude who represents humanity. The simple guardsman.

A scene where somehow Horus hands Ollanius' soul in the Warp - or maybe just another nameless guardsman a blade and tells him to judge him for what he is, for what he has done, and strike him down if need be - for his judge should not be the biased father, whom he betrayed, nor his brothers, but the ones he failed the most and betrayed the most - the human kind he was born and raised to protect. And the guardsman would raise the sword and hesitate, and eventually state that there is no way to atone for what has been done but to live his life undoing all the wrong he has caused. Horus takes up his penance and then, confident in his absolution, goes to face the Emprah.
faces* Ollanius' sould
christ it's late
Where did you lose my arms, dude.
Like seriously, I never was that retarded
*Abbadon wanders off leaving his m41 self, never really believing it was him in the first place*
The only real interaction with a non-astartes we have written out so far was just an outline about Trazyn semi-accidentally reviving Vulkan.

But this is indeed something that should be explored more in depth.

Does our Beastmaster Chief Thunder Primarch actually approve of the Ordo Xenos?
Does Magnus II' work stir any suspicions within the Ordo Malleus? Does Magnus even drag Draigo out?
Maybe a scene where Horus runs into the Custodes and breaks down upon realizing the weight of not-his deeds?
Maybe even a scene where Eldrad runs into Fulgrim2 and realizes that yeah, he did indeed fuck up pretty majorly.

There's also Pirate Primarch, but I'm honestly really shaky about his characterization and would prefer some more knowledgeable writefag cover him.
I'll be honest, I'm not as up on a lot of the dudes outside the codecies. But I'd be totally down to think up some badass characters.

I think I may also try doing the whole holding Terra Hostage and the rescue via the Alpha Legion Invasion from the POV of an inducted guardsman at the wrong place, at the wrong time. They'll probably be attached to the insane Monodoninant (or Libricar) himself, probably trying to figure out what the fuck to do.

I have no idea how it would work, but a surviving Ordo Chronos inquisitor who's currently stuck doing the quantum leap thing might be neat, as well. (That'd make a badass Dark Heresy game.)

A really badass Knight might make a cool protagonist. Perhaps they were on the Crusade and they go to their world to find it scoured of life. So they cry manly tears and take an oath of vengance. They go system to system, trying to track down the group responsible. Generic End is they succeed. Bad End is they try and die in the process, but in a really badass way. Grimdark End it got destroyed by the inquisition or some shit for stealing a loaf of bread.
DOOM: Repercussions of Evil End is that the house fell to chaos and was destroyed by the imperium.
Cheesy End: Turns out that the guys that did it are all dead. But in the process, they'd done so much badass shit that they wipe their memory, give themselves a generic set of clues, and go on a momento quest. With their apprentic or some shit.
Warning: attempt at writefaggotry.
Tell me if I should continue and/or thoughts.

As Horus sat down in a small - now void of any souls save for his own – chapel to the Emperor, his gaze wandered, his mind full of questions and doubts. He knew full well of the developments of his past self's heresy. He knew of betrayal. He knew of the grief that has been caused.
Yet he knew, deep inside, that the betrayal was so grave not only because he had turned his back on his father. He knew that in the final hours what he casted aside was, first and foremost his humanity. When he saw the brave soldier, the lone man standing between an enraged demigod, a Primarch, and his beloved Emperor, the human being that did not waver and did not make a single step backwards. By striking him down he became an enemy not only to his own parent, but to whole mankind. What caused this was of no consequence. What led to this was irrelevant. Horus was a man of honour, and he needed to atone for what he had done.
Only now did he realise that he was no longer alone in the chapel. He was so focused on his own thoughts that even his excellent senses did not notice that another man has entered the holy ground. A few metres behind where he was seated now stood a small, frail figure, with his face engulfed in darkness by the hood of his cloak. The silhouette did not flinch when Horus stood up. Then it spoke, abruptly breaking the silence that fell, its voice confident yet soft.

- Do you know the religions of old, son of Emperor? - the words rang.
Maybe a story about really confused Inquisitors/Spies trying to figure out what's going on.
OH! Confused Tau who are swapping rumors. They've heard something big is going down in the Imperium and they also hear that Thunder is talking to people.

I also sense potential in Mechanicum, but I'm not sure where. Maybe smoking bitches with pre-heresy tech. A synod on Mars trying to figure out what's going on?
Actually, what do they do when the Necrons start asking to see the oracle in the labyrinth?

If people like the current pirate primarch characterization, I could try something where he links up with Battle Fleet Gothic or something. Navy Officer who's tired of the prissy admiral suddenly gets a new boss. Awesome ensues.

I think Chief Thunder likes Xenos Hybris. A lot. There's a pretty cool story about Tau diplomats vs Obsidian Mirror and a story about how they basically make a Tau defect to the imperium up on that page, I think. They might have interesting conversations with Thunder.

We also need to do something where Zandrekh has an awkward conversation with the still not yet revived emperor or something.
As he left the rectory with a bellyful of grox and water that didn't taste of cordite, Shrike mentally tried to inventory whatever scraps of the primarch's equipment remained to the Raven Guard. His conclusion was depressing: the majority of Corax' armour had been on the captain of the 1st company, and, judging by what Shrike had seen the Apothecaries scrape out of the crater, wouldn't armour a rat. The best (in Shrike's opinion) pieces were the talons and flight pack, which were his.
"At least" Shrike thought, quickening his stride: "it had been, when I gave it to the serfs to take to the armour bay."
He entered the armour bay nearly at a run, images of the primarch clutching mangled serfs flashing through his mind. The truth was somewhat more low-key, Corax was adding the finishing touches to a heavy bolter, which appeared to have had a stock and grip fitted. Shrike arched a brow at the sight of the massive weapon as Corax looked up at the captain.
"Compensating much?"
Corax gave a thin glare, before rising from the crouch he had been in, and speaking:
"The servitors tell me much of my equipment has been spread about the command."
Shrike nodded:
"That is correct, what's your poi-"
"Except for my talons and flight pack, which are in the possession of one Kayvaan Shrike." Interrupted Corax, glancing pointedly at Shrike's repaired and repainted armour, which hung on a wall rack, flight pack and talons nearby.
"Wha-What do you need those for, you've got that Big Fucking Gun!" Complained Shrike, struggling to keep the whine out of his voice. He rallied and continued:
"Beside, it's all been resized to fit me now, by the time you get it fitted, the Orks'd be breaking down the door."
"Very well," replied Corax, haughtily,
"is there anything that would fit me?"
Shrike cast his eyes about the room, finally settling on an empty dreadnought shell. He pointed:
"That might, if you put a head-hole in it."
If looks could kill, the Captain would be a smear.
something i thought of in the last thread, is that Daemon Lorgar probably wouldn't be as interested in killing his double as he would beating him in the ultimate religious debate
Continue. I like seeing horus cry for atonement from a weaker being
It would make for a Great story but it hast to be a God tier story
Bagsy not writing it.
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Horus did not move after hearing the man speak, and watched as he passed him, slowly moving towards the altar at the end of the chapel.

- Walk with me, and let me tell you a tale.

The two strode along, the powerful demigod listening in silence as he followed the hooded man.

- In past times, men did many things in the name of religion. Things that led our Emperor to believe that every belief in the supernatural was evil and led to suffering. But there is one thing in the ways of old that I see as inherently human, the best virtue that men can aspire to. Do you know what that is?

Horus found himself strangely enthralled by the speaker. Though his mind was sharp like no other, and he knew the immediate authority his very being held among men, somehow he knew that in this very moment it was his role to listen.

- I do not.

- It was forgiveness. Belief that no act, no evil deed would be so foul that it could not be forgiven. Not even the greatest of betrayals.
Oh Emperor, my sides.


They stopped, as the were now only a few steps from the altar, and the steps that rose towards it. Horus turned towards the figure, his mind now certain that he knew what needed to be done. He reached to his side and unsheathed a dagger, a weapon that seemed fragile and tiny in his powerful hand, but for a normal man would be as big as a sword. He held it out, and knelt. Even though there were only two of them in the whole chapel, it felt like the whole chamber was now filled with eyes staring intently. Millions of souls waiting for what was to come.

- I know not who you are. And I need not know, for I know what must be done – Horus said – though I am reborn, the man that caused all the suffering and grief, the man turned against his brethren is a part of me. And it is by these brethren that I should be judged.

The hooded figure took the dagger, and though its eyes could not be seen Horus felt as if he was looking at the dagger, pondering. He held it with a firm grip, and it seemed as if he was no longer the frail, small human that entered the chapel. In front of him was a being as tall and powerful as any Astartes, and his voice was much more powerful as it echoed along the arches.

- It is only right indeed. - as he said these words it seemed as if the darkness that shrouded his face was now gone, and instead a blinding light shone, illuminating the surroundings. For a blink of an eye, for a moment as brief as a heartbeat Horus though that he recognized the visage of the last man he killed, the man that stood firm against evil that he once represented and paid the ultimate price. Or was it just what he hoped for, what he wished for? Maybe he wanted it to be Ollanius, he wanted it to be the man most worthy of punishing the Warmaster.

cont. (final)

- But it is not today that your life should end. You are your own man now, no longer bound by the wickedness and treachery of Chaos. You no longer are Warmaster. You are Horus, son of the Emperor, and for you had done you must atone.

After hearing these words, for the first time, Horus wept. When he rose, the man was gone and no trace of him left in the chapel. The light was still there, as if the whole chamber was now filled with a strange glow. The dagger lay on the ground. As he rose, he felt as if the gazes of every soul that seemed to fill the chapel were no longer judging. They were proud. He was once more one of them. He was once more the finest of them. He knew what lay ahead of him and as he walked out, he felt ready to face his father, to face his future, to face the great undertaking – the undoing of his own, past deeds.


Note that English is not my native language, so there might be a mistake or two in there. It's also fairly late and my last coffee was ages ago. Anyway this is the way I feel it should be done.
"I should have you shot."
"Good luck getting anyone to do that", remarked Shrike, checking his plasma pistol was secured properly.
"Half the men on this ship have never heard of you, they all know who I am."
Satisfied with his equipment: Shrike stood up and raised his voice;
"Right, you all know the plan, but incase any of you blockheads weren't listening, one more time:" He nodded at the techmarine standing by the projector in the center of the cramped drop-pod bay, who switched in on:
"The High-Value Target , an Ork warlord, who calls himself "Bird-Breaka", is holed up in this factory. We're going in through the ceiling, hence the drop-pods. We kill the warlord, we kill his guards, we kill his pet squigs, I don't care preferably in a messy fashion as possible, then the battle-barge will teleport us back aboard. This is a terror mission here, if we can demoralise the Orks, and take out the local leadership in one go, the Orks on this planet will be vulnerable to a flank attack. Any questions?"
"Yes": Corax, of course.
"Why is the projector so blurry?"
Shrike looked at him, then at the elite veterans surrounding him, as though to say "Can you believe this?!"
Nice. Your English is fine BTW, probably better than the drivel I've been writing.
Hey, thanks. I'm going through reading all the other writefaggotry in the thread now, but the whole premise is really awesome. Seriously, fuck grimdark. HFY.
Ugh, this sound reminding thing can go to hell, it's scared the crap out of me twice.
My sides.
Every goddamn time.
Also someone should save this thread for future reference, there's an awful lot of nice stuff in here (I'm looking at you, Shrike).
You, sir, have a golden eye for humor.

Already been done. Check the 1d4chan page.
>You, sir, have a golden eye for humor.
Not sure if sarcasm...
Horusfag here

Since I've seen someone upload a part of my dribble, I just threw the whole thing in there. I'm off to sleep now anyway (God it's 2 am), keep up the good work guys.
You'll be pleased to know, I'm gonna have to go to bed soon, it's one in the morning and my back is killing me. If you guys can keep the thread going until tomorrow, I'll try and think of more story. 'K?
Awesome Bump.
I'd be interested in seeing the Chief being spotted by a bewildered Deathwatch Kill-Team who then get the attention of a pro-xenos Inquisitor. Especially if it involves them firing on his pet Fex.

>the andamiss
Captcha has spoken. The Andamiss must be where this must take place.
oh man, between this, upcoming spring break, and kill la kill 22
I am DROWNING in hype today
this sounds promising if someone can write that,
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Hi /tg/ I'm not a writefag but I'm following this treads and tried to write a story about a Primarch and a chapter I don't like. Somehow turned into a silly tale about an Imperial Navy Officer so don't take it seriously
"Sorry son, you see... your brain its, well I'm not going to fool you, the blood vessels on your brain are going to explode with the first set of implants and augments. I'm sure you're a loyal citizen of the Imperium but I'm sorry you wont be able to be an Astartes"

And that's it, thats how an old Medicae officer crushed my dreams of being an Astartes, one of my biggest dreams that will never be. But now the real big dream of my life is going to be real, to finally see with my own eyes the biggest primarch, second only to the Holy Emperor, a titan, a demigod and writer of the Codex Astartes. Today, finally I'm going to meet him, Roboute Guilliman

The naval officer was nervous, like a child on Emperor's day, even a veteran of countless battles was not used to see Astartes on real life, and a primarch, a hero of legend was a honor beyond his wildest dreams. He checked again on the mirror every minor detail of his uniform, every brass button and insignia of his parade uniform was polished, his boots, his sword, everthing was perfect.The disappointment of youth was long past forgotten, the countless times he visited the Shrine of Guilliman, the visions of fighting the enemies of the Imperium under the orders of his spirtiual liege, every minor detail of his life will take him here to this single day

The sky over the Fortress of Hera was bright, not a single cloud on it. Around the spaceport the ultramarine banners give a festive yet solemn aura to the scene. Fast as a brid of pray the Thunderhawk approached while the honor guard stood waiting for the Primarch to arrive.

The giant spaceship opened its bay doors and an imposing figure, returned at last after so many years to his homeworld. The Astartes honor guard were the first to welcome the primarch, the noble Marneus Calgar seem small for the first time at the side of Guilliman himself, a thunderous clash seemed to shook the spaceport itself when those two warriors embraced like long lost brothers of arms, two noble and proud warriors separated by millenia of war

The civilian authorities of Macragge, with a pdf and naval honor guard walked to welcome and greet the living legend, the naval officer wanted to tell him about how honored was to be able to see him, to tell the primarch about his dreams and how loyal and proudly he served on the Fleet over Macragge but the anticipation was to much for him, he started to walk towards the towering Astartes but he fainted and everything went dark

While a couple of pdf guards took the unconcious naval officer to the Medicae, Guilliman and Calgar walked to the Fortress

You know, that captain seems... well, disturbed -Guilliman pointed to Calgar-

Yes my lord, he's loyal and brave beyond doubt but you know he seems to think you're a demigod sometimes I think he's obsessed with you

That could be dangerous, -Guilliman's face showed real concern for the human- please Marneus, be sure that he gets the best medical attetion possible. He's a loyal servant of the Imperium even if he's not the brightest one. What's his name ?

He's Captain Mathaius. Captain Mathaius Ward. -Calgar answered with a faint smile-

Sorry about the bad joke at the ending and sorry about the bad English (not a native speaker).
Angron gladiator fag from the first thread, dropping more writefaggotry
Istvaan III was the sight of innumerable omens, a place where the first rounds of a betrayal would be fired and echo across eternity. Fulgrim had chosen to visit this place alone. He the only being that stood alive on a world of ghosts. His regal purple robe fluttering in the carrion wind.

He had come to atone, not just for the slaughter of his brothers sons, but that of his own as well. Battle plate still lie on the ground where bones had long turned to dust. He looked forward at the planetary governors' office, from what he had heard this is where his remaining loyal sons had died, betrayed by Lucius at the last moment.

He strode inside, looking down at warriors, honorable ones that both he and his daemonic self knew. Saul Tarvitz, Ancient Rylanor, Soloman Demeter. He knelt down to the slaughtered remains of one of his sons that had remained pure and held it to his chest, the vicious angry sob of a demigod cut through the air. What have I done? His mind begged his soul for answers that would actually make sense. He looked across the ground for some form of tool, anything that could move dirt. He made due with a power axe.

Slowly, he carried the corpses of the remaining loyal Astartes to a patch of soft ground, one by one he dug their graves, placing each legionary in the ground with a gentleness that his giant form seemed incapable of, tears streaming silently from his face. He made no noise, the only sound was of dirt being excavated. Each time he finished burying one he made a makeshift monument, a sword, a helmet, an axe. It didn't matter what it was necessarily its value was far more than its parts. Each had the name of the Astartes laid there and a poem or canticle of their bravery. When he was done only one thought remained. 'I will make this right, even if I can't undo it.'
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>Each time he finished burying one he made a makeshift monument, a sword, a helmet, an axe. It didn't matter what it was necessarily its value was far more than its pants.
>It didn't matter what it was necessarily its value was far more than its pants.
> far more than its pants.

>Aalythe Lucian
Yes, captcha. Indeed.
I meant parts, fucking autocorrect, this is what happens when writefags use phones my brothers, however on the whole I think it turned out well
Wait it says parts you dick, go suck off chief thunder for penance
I'd try it but I don't quite have a feel for Thunder's personality yet. I'm sort of imagining Billy Mays who took levels in Druid. >_< Which can't be right.
Guess who? I'm just gonna have a short nap, and write more story.
>Mathaias Ward
>passes out after seeing Girlyman
>Deep down, he can never be an Ultramarine

My sides are threatening to defy the Codex Astartes
In the last thread we were trying to figure out what loyal descendants of traitor legions would do. Particularly the Minotaurs and I have a suggestion I was thinking over last night. As the Minotaurs are brainwashed and conditioned consistently even after becoming a full Astartes, I was thinking an inner chapter war could happen, between those who are too weak willed to overcome the ludevico treatment esque indoctrination and the stronger willed members(chaplains, asterion etc) asterion wins and joins Angron, I just feel like this could lead to much more writefaggotry and awesome than just "hey daddy Angron I'm Asterion"
Also maybe have Huron Blackheart take abbadons position as chaos' greatest mortal champion because the gods have no time to tolerate an amusing failure when there are primarchs about to run a rapetrain across everything, the traitor primarchs join and he declares the first red crusade, this would actually create tangible ways the "new" primarchs and the old traitors could actually battle.
I liked the idea someone had last thread, where Magnus starts beating the crap out of Russ because Russ tries to apologize and Magnus can't bear the thought that a smelly space-yiff is actually the better man.
I'll TRY to write something later on in the evening concerning the meeting of Horus and Big Papa.
Corax ducked his head under the upper lip of the drop-pod and squeezed himself into the interior. His primarch size meant that he had a dreadnought pod all to himself, while Shrike and his veterans crammed themselves into two regular sized pods. Hanging his custom heavy bolter on the pod's weapon rack, Corax set about working himself into the rig that would usually hold a dreadnought in place. As he tightened the straps around his shoulders, he rubbed at his neck with his free hand. The rough edges of the head-hole in what could loosely be called his armour were chafing his throat. Dismissing the discomfort, Corax jabbed the button that would tell the drop-pod cogitator he was secure. He shifted carefully, breathing deeply through his nose, tasting the cool iron-smelling air. He was ready.
"Optimal position for drop achieved." said Shrike, over the drop-pod intercom:
"Beginning Countdown. Five... Four... Three... Two... One."
Corax closed his eyes.
The three drop pods jinked wildly left and right, spraying chaff and decoys in every direction, weaving through long ribbons of Ork ground fire as they plummeted groundwards. Corax' back teeth ground together as he listened to the airframe creaking and groaning around him. He hated this feeling of powerlessness, he was used to being able to control his flight, this was too much like falling out of control for his liking. Suddenly a deafening roar drowned out the sounds of the Ork gunfire, and all the blood in Corax' body began a concerted effort to climb out of the top of his head. Just as Corax thought he could take no more, the roar cut out with a thunderous BANG that almost smashed Corax into the ceiling. The doors of the drop-pod flew open and Corax lurched out, barely remembering to snatch his heavy bolter from its rack as he staggered out into the open air. The drop pods had landed directly on target, smashing through the roof of the factory and taking the Orks completely by surprise. One of the Orks in question was standing not 20 feet away from Corax, squinting at him through the thick dust that filled the room. The Ork's eyes widened as Corax' gun snapped up and attempted to yell a warning, before the heavy bolter spoke, drowning out the Ork's scream. Corax lowered the weapon and looked about, he appeared to have landed inside a room that looked out onto a raised gantry, which overlooked the central factory space. That was where the warlord had set up his throne, amidst a maze of mangled machinery. Shrike's veterans were engaged in a frantic gunfight with the Ork's armoured bodyguards, but the awkward angles and large metal objects scattered about were providing the Orks with a good defencive position.
Just as Corax began scanning the gantries for a good vantage point, he was alerted to something landing behind him. Corax wheeled about, but untensed as he realised it was Shrike. However, Shrike looked... wrong somehow.
C'mon guys, I need some feedback here.
I'm liking your work.

Kayvaan seemed to have grown taller, nearly as tall as Corax, the long wings of Corax' flight pack had draped themselves over him like a cloak, and the talons he wore had lost their lustre and seemed hooked, like a real bird's claws. The eyes were the worst part though, blazing red slits that glared out at Corax through the curtain of metal feathers. Corax heard the tramp of hobnailed boots on the gantry and turned to see three Orks charging towards him. The Orks slowed, jaws opening wide in horror. They weren't looking at Corax.
Dropping their crude weapons, the Orks sprinted away from the monster standing behind Corax. Shrike surged past Corax, leaving a strange smell of rust and dried blood on the back of Corax' throat. He leapt into the air, at the peak of his jump, letting out an ear-rending distorted screech, which was answered by wails and sobs from the Orks, who were now pushing each other aside to get away. Shrike fell on them like the angel of death, ropes of thick Orkish blood flew through the air as his talons tore apart their green flesh. Corax noticed an Ork choose to pitch himself over the gantry railing, rather than face the living nightmare that Shrike had become. An Ork found Shrike's talon closing about his head, and didn't have time to scream before his head burst like a dropped watermelon, smearing Shrike's bone-white helmet with gore.

The Orks who were not in being subjected to evisceration were now in a state of full retreat. Shrike's sternguard veterans, now given the opportunity to properly use their weapons, cut the fleeing Orks down with a hurricane of customised bolt shells. Corax saw one Ork collapse in on himself, and then vanish in a single point of warped light as a space marine found his mark. The survivors were fleeing into what had been the loading bay, ducking fire from the space marines as they stampeded into the darkened room.
What do you think?
Oh thank the god emperor, He's just a daemon created by the orkz fears of him.
I'd like some feedback
Wow! I wasn't expecting anyone to get it that quickly, nice job.
Now that...

That sounds positively BADASS.

My sides are splattered all over the room.
I'm liking these Corax posts.
*Blushes* Oh stop.
He's right as well, I figured, If the waaagh can work for the orks (vehicles, machines, guns etc) then if they believe Shrike is a terrifying monster, by the Emprah, he'll BE a terrifying monster.
Shrike, seeing that his prey was escaping, gave a barely human snarl and leapt over the railing, closely followed by Corax. Corax landed awkwardly, hampered by his heavy armour, while Shrike rushed along the ancient production line like a wraith out of legend. All the surviving Orks had vanished into the gloom of the loading bay, and Shrike glared into it. He glanced about and saw Corax. He pointed to an enormous rusted rubbish skip:
"S̴̹͊e̸̹͌t̷͕͑ ̵̙̑û̵ͅp̴͚̾ ̴̟̇o̶͈͘v̶̟̍ē̶̪r̵͉͆ ̸͇̋t̷͉͊h̴͈̀e̸͍̍ṛ̷͐ë̵̲,̷̛̮ ̷̝͒g̷̮̐i̷̺͒v̴͚͗ë̸̯́ ̴̦̑ḿ̵ͅę̴͘ ̶̳̋c̷̢̽o̸͖̍v̴̠̉e̸͉̐r̵̬̈ ̷̭̇f̶̦̏í̷̙r̸̮͐e̶͉̒"
The marine's words were barely understandable, his voice had turned into a screechy, barking sound that seemed to be coming from the bottom of a deep well. Corax nodded and took cover next to the skip, seeing the sternguard veterans taking similar positions.
Shrike took a deep breath, his vision could penetrate the dark, he could see what was stepping towards him, shoving smaller Orks out of it's way. It's height was such that it needed to duck it's head to fit through the doorway to the loading bay, which were twice as high as Corax. The titanic Ork warlord's glowing red eyes fixed on Shrike, who seemed to be growing smaller as the creature approached. Bird-Breaka huffed once, and then let out a roar that rattled Corax' teeth:
Shrike's reply was immediate: he flung his arms out, and down to his sides, his talons reaching maximum extension. Arcs of lightning crackled between the blades as Shrike supercharged the talon's capacitor. The turbines of his jump-pack flared eagerly, as though waiting for orders. The warlord snarled:
"Better men than you have tried, Ork." said Shrike:
"And things so far beyond men you can't even begin to imagine them."
The Warlord charged.
The Raven leapt.
The battle was on.
>Hargreave reference.
Is anyone else actually writing anything, or is it just me here?
I'm lurking for more writefaggotry, you seem to be the only one writing just now.
I too am lurking. I'd love to contribute but I really don't know enough about the fluff to do any decent writefagging.
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If this thread is around tomorrow I'll get round to it. Got cought up in stuff
Shrike corkscrewed as he rose, crackling blades carving a chunk out of the Warlord's face, sending the titanic Ork reeling. Shrike caught hold of the Ork's head and held fast, slashing repeatedly at the monster's face with his free hand. The Ork bellowed and screamed, swinging it's massive arms in an attempt to knock the space marine off. The surviving Orks, emboldened by their leader, charged out of the loading room, diving between the warlord's legs, firing their crude weapons at Corax and the veterans. A hail of bolter fire met them, Corax in particular scything down a howling meganob who was trampled by his fellows as soon as he fell. Corax jerked his head back as a slugga round took a shower of sparks off the edge of the skip.
"Don't worry!" called one of the sternguard:
"Orks are the worst marksmen in the universe!"
A bullet ricocheted off his helmet with a Clung sound.
"Although they do occasionally get lucky!": Corax called back.
He glanced back at the warlord, whose sheer size was making difficult to reach Shrike, who had climbed atop the giant Ork's head. Corax sent a burst of heavy bolter fire at the Ork's legs, sending the warlord to his knees. Shrike stabbed his talon as deep into the Ork's skull as he could go, and then discharged the power field. The Ork's eyeballs exploded as the fluid in them flash-vaporized. Arcs of lightning leapt through the Ork's brain, charring it from the inside out. The monster went limp, and fell on his face. Shrike stood as the remaining Orks turned to regard their fallen leader. Shrike's red eyes blazed out at the Orks as he seemed to grow impossibly tall. His wings spread out behind him, casting shadow over the Orks and leaving him in silhouette.
All that could be seen were his eyes.
The Orks screamed.
Corax smiled.
You're my favorite deputy Ravenfag
Or not. Let's do this thing.

The battlefleet has been forming for months. The size of it was incomparable to anything that Mankind has seen since the Emperor first ventured out in search of his stranded children. First were the Luna Wolves', the massive grey battleships silently orbiting a small moon in the system of Fervent. The whole chapter was the quickest to act, as even after milennia had passed they were never broken down into various successor chapters as the other legions, and it was rumored that the famed 13th Company has been stationed onboard their flagship Ragnarok, after their return to Fenris in circumstances shrouded by mystery.
Next was the orderly and well-equipped detachment of the Ultramarines, their vessels joining their brethren in orbit of the rocky globe. In short notice their successor chapters began arriving, and it would be that every day a seemingly endless stream of reinforments from these countless chapters poured down into the solar system.
Then came all the rest, every Emperor-loving soul, both Astartes and Imperial Navy alike, the corvettes, the cruisers, the carriers. There was a sense of agitation and eagerness in the crews, for it would be that after ten milennia of endless battle, bitter defeats and bloody victories, humankind had the upper hand once more.
Along the miriad vessels which formed up around the moon of Fervent II, there was one ship which looked as insignificant as can be – a small, frail corvette, its hull painted white-and-black, which flew straight towards the Ragnarok, where the Primarchs that had already arrived have gathered. As it went, it looked as if it was swallowed by the bristling organism of the fleet, ships changing paths to make way for its precious cargo. It entered a docking bay on the side of the battleship, and sat down on the steel deck.
Are we setting these all in the same universe? 'Cos I was writing as if Shrike knows that something is happening in the rest of the Imperium, but he is devoting all his efforts to holding back the Orks threatening Deliverance.
My idea is that not everyone could arrive. So everyone that could answer the call arrived - hence Space Wolves are the obvious choice. So are the Ultramarines because LOL VOLUME.
I don't really know much about other chapters' fluff as I'm mostly an IG fag, so correct me if I make some obvious mistakes.
My reasoning is they needed to get a fleet going to save Terra, and there must've been a moment for tactical planning, strategical analysis and so forth.
Sort of like Horus Heresy, where all hands were needed at Terra, but they couldn't get there in time, so whoever was ready arrived
So, are we following the "crazy inquisitor holds terra hostage" idea?
I'm going with what's on 1d4, so yeah, I figured that this is 'canon' (as much as it sounds weird)
This could be after Terra, or during the little bit of time we're giving everyone to travel the empire, while magnus starts his whole Revive the Emprah thing. It'll take chaos a bit to get their shit together, anyways.

Also, I'm going to writefag tonight.
Okay, I can work with that. Now that the situation with the Orks has been more or less stabilized, Corax and some of the Raven Guard are freed up to join the muster.

The hall was empty, save for a few servitors gathered around its edges, busy with maintenance duties, and a single Astartes, his grey armour scarred and battered, bearing memories of countless battles. His helmet was on, and it looked as if he was a part of the ship itself – so firmly he stood, waiting, with a power glaive in his arm. As the ship descended and opened its hatches, he watched as a tall, powerful figure emerged, followed by many other Astartes, guardsmen and naval security officers. He walked straight towards the waiting Grey Knight, with his helmet at his side, revealing the face of a Primarch – the one who led the betrayal, who began the Heresy – Horus.
The Grey Knight did not move an inch as Horus stopped in front of him, and silence fell. The Primarch broke it first, his powerful voice echoing in the hangar bay.

- Now I see how right they were, calling you the quiet one, my son – he said, staring into the visor of the helmet, with no trace of any emotion on his face.

The words rang, and for what seemed an eternity, nothing happened. The guardsmen froze, gaping at the scene and waiting for what was to happen in anticipation – and perhaps fright of such powerful beings. And then came the strangest thing – the laughter.
Corax looked about, the Marines had cleared a wide space where they could be teleported without risk of bringing anything with them. Shrike was talking on his radio, conversing with the orbiting battle-barge. From what Corax could make out, the astropaths aboard the ship were talking about some kind of rallying point, and Corax' spirits were lifted considerably by the mention of other Primarchs. Since his mysterious arrival at the Ravenspire, Corax had wondered if any of his brothers had been thrown forwards as he had. He was broken out of his reverie by Shrike poking him in the stomach.
"The Battle-barge is ready for us." Corax nodded and took his position with the other marines, each maintaining at least a metre of distance between each other.
"We're ready," said Shrike.
"Energize" (AN. Sorry, I couldn't resist)
There was a flash, a feeling of sudden cold, a whirl of colour and Corax found himself standing in the teleport cradle, with frost tickling his eyelashes. Shrike was already out of his cradle and speaking intently with a tech-marine. Corax spoke:
"Are we going to the muster?" Shrike looked up:
"You are, yes, but not aboard the battle-barge, the situation here is too urgent for me to leave." He beckoned Corax to follow him and began walking swiftly out of the room, continuing as he went:
"The muster is happening around some minute speck of rock called Fervent, or so I'm told. The navigators tell me that the warp-tides are good, so you should make it there within two or three days, maybe more."
He rounded a corner and the two walked out into the hangar bay, where a thunderhawk sat idling.
"This will take you to the Strike cruiser." said Shrike, pausing at the base of the embarking ramp.
"I understand that I haven't been forthcoming with information, or gratitude."
Something of an understatement there, thought Corax, but nodded for Shrike to continue.

The Knight began shaking as if in spasms, and took of his helmet, revealing a bustle of grey hair, a face strangely old – even though Astartes were beings practically immortal – and a pair of eyes that radiated joy.

- In truth, I came here to see for myself if the news were right, and to strike you down if need be. But look at me now – cheering like an initiate after his first victory, me – a veteran of old – he said, and looked Horus straight in the eye – for I can see taint where it lay, and I can say that there is none in you. And this feeling was worth waiting for milennias.

Horus nodded after hearing those words, yet he did not make a step yet. Instead he spoke.

- There was an old ritual, a tradition that was practiced in the old days that I was always fond of. Is there a man here willing to bear witness? - He turned, facing the people that have now gathered around them. From the crowd a man walked forth, his black, bleak uniform covering his body, and with a single, golden rosary pinned to his chest.

- Inquisitor Casimir Gaunt, my lord. - he said, gently bowing.

- Very well. Loken, do you still remember the words?

- As clear as day. - the Knight held out his glaive in one hand, as he handed a parchment to the Inquisitor to write down the words.

- I am here to hear you, and Inquisitor Gaunt is here to witness it. Do you, Horus, son of the Emperor, accept your role in this? Do you promise to lead your men into the zone of war, and conduct them to
glory, no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe?
"And I can only say that I wish we had met in better times. If half of what the astropaths say is true, however, then better times may already be upon us."
Shrike smiled weakly.
"It was a pleasure."
Corax nodded:
"Likewise. It is good to see the Guard in capable hands, Captain."
They saluted, and Corax strode up the ramp, banging on the ceiling with one hand to inform the pilot that he was aboard. Shrike watched as the thunderhawk lifted off, before flying out of the depressurized hangar bay. He watched until the shape was lost among the stars, and strode back back into the ship. He had a war to win.
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Well done, Ravenfagsson.
So I'm going to go with the rule that awesome and manly tears are the fuel of 40k and just roll with it. More to come.

Do you swear to lead the Legions once more in the name of the Emperor and mankind, to strike down the enemy and retake what was lost? Do you swear t stand true to his words and not succumb to the treachery of the taint? Do you swear not to waver in your resolution?

- On this matter and by this weapon, I swear. - Horus said. Though there were scores of men around them now, not a single word was uttered as the oath was taken, everyone engulfed in what was to become a historical moment.

- Kill for the living, father, and kill for the dead – Loken said, and he took the parchment now inscribed with this testament from the Inquisitor. He gave it to the Primarch, who attached it to the chest of his armour plate. As he did it, men cheered, and the scream was so loud Loken could have sworn it was heard in every single ship of the fleet. The Grey Knight thought to himself in amazement, how his Primarch did not change. In a simple way not only did he garner the support of every man under his command, bolstering the morale of those who would still doubt the reborn son of Emperor. He also gained back the trust of his former advisor, he who was prepared to use his glaive to kill the Warmaster if he noticed a sign of heresy. Millenias go, and nothing changes – here I am, once more the quiet one. Once more a Luna Wolf by heart.

- Let us go then, your brothers are ready at the strategum, sire – Loken said and went ahead, as if a herald bearing word of hope, as his Primarch walked to begin his Crusade anew.
Alright then, Corax can join the muster, and I can have a rest. Win-win. BTW, in any first-time meetings with the other primarchs, could you have the other primarch make a comment on why Corax is wearing a dreadnought, please?
I'll need to read up on the fluff though. I'll get to it now, just had a coffee and it's weekend so got time. I'm thinking I'll get some primarchs in there, mention a few in a way that fits the wiki page and see what happens next. To be honest I make it up as I go, trying to get as close to depicting Horus as he was portrayed in Abnett's book.
I've got an arse-load of homework, so don't be surprised if there's not much from me over the weekend.
Yeah, I'm going to need to go through all the other writefaggotry about primarchs to know who I can include and who not to to have everything nicely wrapped up, and it'll take a bit longer than I thought.
You can take over Corax if you like.
How do you think, when did the clashes between Primarch 1 and Primarch 2 happen? The meetings with their corrupted selves? After the retaking of Terra? It would be logical because their immediate goal was to get Big E up and running ASAP and deal with the chaos dudes later. But then again Chaos would act and try to prevent this from happening.

I'm not really sure how to go about this, though I'm leaning to the idea of the getting E first.
I reckon they would rush to defend Terra, and then, once the birthworld was secure, start sorting out their affairs elsewhere. It would also give the crusade era forces a chance to stock up on M41 weaponry that they could get from Mars.
I am going to have so much fun with this.
Right, agreed. Now that I've read the 1d4 article it says that Terra is besieged by Chaos and loyalists go in to save the day. So we can have awesome fights in the ruins of the capital planet of the Imperium between primarchs and deamon princes while they're #gettingshitdone. Also it says that Corax, Kruze and and one of the missing primarchs act as a sort of resistance/guerilla unit, so I'd do it like this:
The Primarchs meet up, agree to wait a while to bolster the fleet and be able to absolutely overkill anything in the immediate orbit/around Terra, while they send Corax forth to get intel, lay in waiting while the main force gets ready, and when the time comes strike from the shadows Raven Guard style.

It also helps that some of the primarchs are technically not dead like the Lion or Girlyman so they can get their legions prepped up. Also - Bjorn fucking droppodding into the Imperial Palace in a Dreadnought.
I'm seeing Corax and Curze sneaking aboard an enemy battle-barge and double-teaming one of the daemon primarchs.
What time are the loyal Primarchs from? The Great Crusade, or the very beginning of the Heresy? Also, I might write something on the Lion at some point, the Dark Angels whole ascetic really charges my lasgun (if you know what I mean...)
Lorgarfag (and ArgelTalVKharn writer) here to finally take this task up.

The situation was a life-threatening debacle, but after serving in the Deathwatch for a few decades, it becomes more routine.

Tyranids were infesting the capital world of the Andamiss system and the rest of the Hive Fleet was threatening to devour the rest unless something could be done now.
It was a good move, then, that they assigned Watch Captain Tassalar of the Noamarines, a warrior who had fought off Hive Fleet Leviathan alongside his parent chapter, the task of delaying them by any means.

Alongside him on this dangerous mission was his Kill-Team, Oratos, consisting of:
- Sanguinary Priest Nielen of the Blood Angels, who had, with the help of a score of other Apothecaries of a dozen other chapters, devised a poison to take down the Hive Fleet
-Armel of the Disciples of Caliban's Ravenwing, who was originally ordered by his Chapter to keep watch for something, but had since kept him there until further notice.
-Taikei, Techmarine of the White Scars, who had made surprisingly good friends with Armel after an emergency bike-repair.
-Valk, a Rune Priest and pugilist all the same, who wanted only to fight worthy foes.
-Carth, self-proclaimed weapons-master of the Crimson Fists, adept at any gun he could lift.

The Thunderhawk dropped the team off in the air, forcing the squad to make a crash-landing. It was Taikei and Armel, riding an Attack Bike with a Plasma Gun, who made first contact on a Warrior, flattening it and killing the nearby swarm. Next was Captain Tassalar on his jump pack, swinging his Power Sword and clearing a swath of the xenos.
"Alright team!" the Captain barked, "We need to make it to that tower there!" He pointed to the Capillary Tower in the distance. "Taikei, Armel, take point! I want reports on any key Synapse Creatures! The bigger, the better! Valk! Keep your powers on supporting us! Carth, Keep your bolter level!"
Typo or intentional?
I'm writing the part of the reunion onbard Ragnarok right now. So far I included: Lion, Russ, Girlyman, Perturabo, Dorn, Horus, Magnus, Corax, Kruze. The rest I leave out - could be added, but I guess it's not my place to strip other writefags of the pleasure of writing about all of those.

Now my reasoning is this:
- Lion, Girlyman, Russ are not technically dead, so they are the first ones to answer the call
- Vulkan would be there too, but he is stuck with a spear in his back. I think that there should be a separate scene where a few other primarchs - like I dunno, Mortarion or Angron help pull it out and bring him back to life (with the help of Trazyn?)
- Horus is obviously the Warmaster so he's there to lead
- Perturabo and Kruze because it'll be better to throw in some of the corrupted ones into the mix, some dialogue opens up etc.
- Magnus is instrumental to the whole plan of getting E back from the dead, so he needs to be there to get things going
- Cruze + Corax are briefed and make for Terra, to set up a guerilla force in Sol and go CRY HAVOC on supply lines etc.

Fuck my spelling of Kurze. Also Dorn + Perturabo are there for the siege warfare expertise
Part of my headcanon is that part of the Sol systems defences is the Cassini array, an ancient lance staion in the orbit of Titan, whose shots can reach the Orbit of terra. Perhaps Curze could take it over and start one-shotting the traitor starforts?
How much do you know about siege warfare? I wouldn't mind the chance to go into detail about the Imperial palace's defences.
While Kurze sets up a force to shield Corax, defending the installation by attacking the nearest Chaos ships by boarding - and there he meets with his chaotic self, while Corax begins shooting the shit out of their fleet, diverting their attention from Terra. This is AWESOME.

Also I think Russ and Magnus would be the two to make the call - they met near/in the Eye of Terror, made peace, set up a preliminary plan, sent word to Macragge, Dark Angels and so it went. Khan is missing because his busy shitting all over Dark Eldar cheerios and he would arrive with a massive fleet of reinforcements during the climax of the battle in the orbit.
Go ahead, write shit. I'm fairly knowledgable in like XVII/XVIII century warfare, but as far as 40k goes the only thing resembling siege warfare is IG at Krieg, and it's Astartes we're talking here so it's different. I'm not sure if I'll finish up before going to sleep so just go ahead.
I've got this mental image of the RG strike cruiser using its stealth systems to sneak inside Terra's atmosphere. Upon the arrival of the main fleet, it drops its cloak and bombards the enemy command post at point-blank range.
If the time where I am is at all similar to where it is with you, I'll probably be heading to bed soon as well.
There aren't enough days in the weekend for what I've got planned.
I must say that I'm running on hype alone now too. This will be most glorious. I hope other writefags join too.
I must admit, I've read stuff like this in the archive before now, but I never imagined that I'd actually be writing stuff like this.
I have some ideas dor the Lion. Has he been written in yet?
Nope, he's all yours.
The basic premise/timeline is on 1d4 "Return of the Primarchs", most of them are still to be done.
cont. Ragnarok reunion / strategum / briefing before the siege of Terra mk II

The walked through the corridors of the Battleship, passing Astartes and guardsman alike, getting ready for the oncoming onslaught. They eventually arrived at the main cathedral of the battleship, its gigantic doors bearing the emblem of the grey wolf as big as a land raider. The doors opened with a loud wail, and revealed a massive archway leading to an altar – now remade into the heart of the strategum, covered with maps and parchments. Above it was displayed a sizeable image of Sol, slowly rotating, with small dots indicating confirmed hostile warships. At the edges dozens of vox comms wailed, as reports were pouring in.
At the head of the altar stood the host, clad in grey armour and with wolf hides around his pauldrons, his long hair hanging down as he looked down upon a data slate. To his right was Perturabo, his apparel immediately recognized by Horus. His siege warfare expertise would be most useful in the oncoming battle, and now he was briefing the other Primarchs about the basic strategy of the future siege of Terra, seconded by Dorn in his shining, yellow armour, both of them working in unison.
To the left of Russ they could see the Lion and Guilliman, engaged in a discussion, their gazes fixed upon the enemy fleet positions. Closest to the entrance, and with their backs turned to the entrance, stood three other Primarchs, though at first Horus could not recognize who it was.
"Corax, why are you wearing a dreadnought?"
Fuck. Forgot. Will redo this last bit to include that there was a FUCKING DREADNOUGHT in plain sight. Sorry.
He's just wearing the shoulders and front of the armor, like a giant flak-jacket, with the plates held together those Heresy pattern armour studs.
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Like this
cont./redone the dreadnought part. Also fuck 2000 word limit.

To the left of Russ they could see the Lion and Guilliman, engaged in a discussion, their gazes fixed upon the enemy fleet positions. Closest to the entrance, and with their backs turned to the entrance, stood three other Primarchs, one of whom wore what seemed like a dreadnought plate on his chest and shoulders, though at first Horus could not recognize who it was. Only he walked towards them, with Loken still by is side, could he see that one of them was in fact the most talented among the psykers – save for the Emperor himself – Magnus the Red, clad in a bright red-and-gold armour, his hands crossed as he watched the events in silence. To his left there stood a pair of his other brothers, both silent and grim. As he came close they turned to face him, and he recognized Corvus Corax in his unorthodox armour and Konrad Kurze, eerily alike in their stern expressions. Their gazes taxed him and judged him, as he approached the altar. The discussions stopped, and everyone fixed their eyes upon the Warmaster.

- Brothers. - Horus said, his voice confident and full of authority. Indeed even Loken could see, that though the sight of so many demigods gathering in a single place was awe-inspiring in itself and not for the faint of heart, Horus was something else entirely. It was as if every one of the leaders knew in their heart that it was him that was meant to lead this fight. - There is much to be said, but there is little time for that. Right now I need a briefing on the current situation, and – here he made a smirk as he looked at Corax's new garments – perhaps a quick explanation what is this heap of metal doing here.
*Corax flips him the bird*
cont. (*what this heap of metal is doing here)

For a moment, Loken could've sworn that Corax was going to punch Horus straight in the face. Be it due his respect for the Warmaster, or due to his own sense of humour – that he did not know, but the first one to break the silence was the Raven Guard Primarch himself, who – oddly for him – began to laugh out loud. The atmosphere at the table changed, as all the rest of the brothers joined in, Russ' laughter as loud as a cannon's roar, and even Kurze allowed himself to smile a little.
I think you and are going to get along.
How's that?

If you want to do the briefing/siege stuff go ahead and take over now, do the strategum part etc. I'm thinking all the chatter about past times and heresy will happen later on, right now these guys got a daddy to save
I'm also thinking there will be a moment where they'll get as much gene-seed as possible before battle out of the Primarchs, in case shit hits the fan yet again. Especially Raven Guard because of their problems. It's like an apothecary dream come true for the chapters.
Nah, I'm about to go to bed, if you can keep the thread going until tomorrow (or make a new one,idk), I'll probably have some new ideas for us.
Same here. I got a copy on my laptop of my work, in case the thread 404s.
Skeleton for story idea: Cypher on ship. Speaking to cloaked figure. They teleport down to the Rock, right in the middle of a meal. Mexican standoff ensues. Cypher holsters pistols, kneels in front of cloaked figure. Grabs sword in sheath and hands it to cloaked figure. Cloakey boy draws sword with flourish and hood falls away. Guess the fuck who
I'll just use foolz or something.
Strange, that's remarkably similar to the scenario that I was thinking of.
I dig it, but Kurze doesn't have a chaos version. That guy's dead.

Khan and his pirate fleet, you mean.
My only problem with the setting is I don't see Kurze not going full-tilt rebel again, considering his grievances with the Imperium were far, far deeper than 'lolchaos.' What I'm saying is, there will be whole new betrayals, or that Kurze needs a killin' right quick.

Angron without the nails will probably rebel down the line too (after kicking the chaos forces in the teeth), since his grievances are also deeper than lolchaos. He might take the Khan with him, as they both despise tyrants and the Imperium is if nothing else a tyrant state, EVEN UNDER THE EMPEROR. I could see some of the others rebelling into their own smaller empires that refuse to wage war on the Imperium but also refuse to answer to the High Lords of Terra. It will likely be the Mechanicus that keeps the human splinter empires from waging war on one another, since Mars, the Mechanicum, and the Forge Worlds are sort of an Empire within an Empire, and nobody wants to piss off the people who build you ships.

A Horus who becomes Emperor on Terra will probably turn it into something less bloodthirsty down the line. Horus is, however, cut of the same cloth as Guilliman: They are natural aristocrats, albeit benevolent ones. There is no chance of Horus accepting anything less than absolute command over whatever portion of the Imperium he ends up controlling, and he will likely grab more power over time since he will believe (probably correctly) that he can do it better. If he trusts anyone enough to delegate authority to them in certain affairs, it will be his resurrected brothers, the ones who stay loyal to the Imperium as the Emperor envisioned.

Fulgrim's gonna stay loyal since his fall was absolutely lolchaos, as was Magnus. Mortarion will be loyal if and only if he realizes he's got to kill Typhus right the fuck now.
Kor Phaeron was always a tool of the Dark Powers, and so was Erebus. A loyal Lorgar requires them to either not respawn with the loyal Word Bearers, or for him to kill them right away.

As I've said, my knowledge of most of the chapters' fluff is limited, I've only read some of the Heresy books and most of the works on Imperials (Tanith, Eisenhorn), so I'd love someone to check things in case I make mistakes.

I've also took the liberty of uploading what I wrote on 1d4.
The idea is that Big E is getting revived by Magnus and the Great Crusade begins anew. Plus E now has extreme amounts of power because of his followers, and once the dust settles and Empire stabilises the Ruinous Powers will lose a shitload of their influence because the strife will end.

Angron could be reigned in, if E manages to properly show him that he left his friends to die because with the nails in they were basically Khorne bait and time bombs waiting to go off - and left him alive only because he was his beloved son.
Could you please do mine too, I'm typing this on my tablet, so I'll not be able to.
I've just ctr+c/v'd what you wrote in there, so you'll need to add paragraphs and whatnot later on. But it's up there right now under your old section.
Still, Angron's formative experiences have left him with an abject hate of 'high-riders.' The Emperor is the ultimate high-rider. You can't NOT look down on people if you're a god.

This fan-setting is dumb as fuck, but its dumb in a kind of endearing way, since it's 40k fans saying "NUH UH WE WANT A HAPPY ENDING," so they willingly ignore the central conceit of the setting (in the Grim Darkness of the Far Future, There is Only War!) so you all can play happy pew-pew spacemans. It's entirely a matter of taste - I like it when humanity is damned to live in the Grim Darkness of Only War, not because of chaos or xenos or whatever, but because humans are limited and the galaxy is so damn big. I like the idea that humans aimed for utopia and failed, but there's nothing wrong for liking a setting where humans aim for utopia and miss the first time but get to fix their mistakes like this one.
Yeah, now I'm really going because I could do this for hours. I'll hop in tomorrow if I can, if not I'll keep an eye out for a new thread. Do write this siege/battle strategy bit, so I can work on it.

I think I'll do some bit about Russ hacking his way through Chaos only to find Magnus-reborn on his Eye of Terror crusade.
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wait i have a picture for this
Actually - at least for me - I find it awesome because it's an idea to actually push the timeline a bit, and play with the setting. In a way it really *is* reasonable, the whole #justasplanned of 10 milennia of suffering just to revive Big E, and while not perfect it still holds its own to most of 40k fluff in my opinion.

Personally I've always thought that humanity would win either way because I'm a big fan of the idea that Emprah is really a perpetual and Cypher is on his way to kill him so he can be reborn and fuck Chaos' shit up royally. And being technically a living Warp deity in the Materium would make Emps the most powerful motherfucker in the universe.
I'd actually meant it more as what is likely to follow, buuuut I like the idea of part of the rage being that he might just be the better man so:

Russ stepped into the ready room where Magnus was already waiting, Russ unshaven and smelling of mead and Magnus not bothering to conceal his impatience.
'It took you long enough.'
'I've had an eventful past few days.'
'Haven't we all.'
'You try being cast up out of the warp after thousands of years to find your old fleet waiting and brothers you thought lost and dead again alive.'
'Some you even had a hand in killing.'
Russ shifted uncomfortably.
Magnus continued, 'I've learned a lot these past few days. You see, I don't remember what happened at Prospero. I wasn't there. But as I understand it, you were. So why don't you tell me about it? Tell me of your glories, Russ.'
'Not all war is glorious, Magnus.'
'Oh, is it now? Master of the Rout. But it was war that came to Prospero?'
'No, I don't suppose it was.'
'Well, then, why not tell me what it was that toppled and made topless the towers of my home? What was it that killed my planet?'
'The Emperor ordered me, I thought he'd ordered me.'
'Ever the obedient hound, Russ, when it suits you. But tell me straight to my face that you didn't relish the battle. Tell me you didn't enjoy it as Prospero burned.'
'Look! What did you come here for? To start a fight?' Russ spat it all as a single unbroken line of sounds that didn't quite assemble into words. He took a deep breath. 'What do you want from me.'
'Recompense.' Magnus pushed the table aside and rose.
Russ stood dumbly, his eyes giving an answer that Magnus decided not to hear. He advanced towards Russ.
'What, Russ, after all the judgements and advice, finally out of words, are we?
If only you'd stayed your tongue like this at Nikea. Or perhaps taken this passivity at Prospero.
Or maybe if you'd ever bothered trying to master yourself enough to not let Daemonic Horus use you. But no.
Your opinion is valid, this is, after all, a story. But we are the storytellers now, and we are making our own ideas out of what is already presented. You don't like the idea of 40k getting a happy ending, that's fine. That's your idea, and it is no more unworthy than ours. But this is a big board, there is room for everyone, find people who share your ideas, like we've done. (Apologies for nonsensical rambling, v tired)
One of the assumptions is that we're using Dornian Kurze. So Kurze minus madness. I'll cycle back to him soonish and you can tell me what you think of the depiction?
I've sort of got him as a somewhat shy guy with really strong ideals who's horrified by what he once was and is terrified that Night Haunter's going to break out again. Sort of like Alelujah Haptism. I was trying to get at that with the bit I did for him earlier, where his response to hearing how he was assasinated was 'Death is nothing compared to vindication'.
Besides, I'm not going to let them get their happy ending easily. That would spoil the fun.
...But no. You wanted to let loose the warhound within. My dear brother wolf, you've always been the wise one for counsel, about the dangers of the warp, keeping in line. Never mind that your Rune Priests are witches, never mind that your legion turns into beasts. Yes, I know that. I know that and more. They've been very thorough in my education these past days. Why don't you say something? Reply! Answer for your crimes!'
And then Russ broke down. He wept, his speech broken by heaving sobs and Magnus' blows.
'I'd never wanted to. I'd never meant to. I was afraid of what would happen to my legion.'
'Stand up and fight, Russ. Let me see if there's any honor in you.'
Magnus dragged Russ to his feet, moved his arms into a fighting stance.
'Fight me!'
'I can't! I can't do it again! The first time nearly broke me! You're more right about me than you know! I am indeed a dog. Loyal to my father, loyal to my brothers. I'd wanted to talk to you, talk it out. But Horus. Horus manipulated everything. Made me believe you'd gone rogue.
After Prospero, I defended Terra. I defened the Imperium. But mead lost its taste, the sky lost its colour. Battle and song lost their joy. I tried, oh I tried, for centuries to live, to go on knowing what I had done, what I was. And that was when I thought you were a traitor! Every year, I hated everything more and more. I could only think of you. I left. I left Fenris. I went into the warp, to find you. To end this. Either with your death or mine and Emperor, I hoped it would be mine. So go on, kill me. I deserve it and if you don't maybe I will. It isn't like I've not considered it, sitting here. Even the mead doesn't do anything anymore. So go on. Do it.'
Magnus just stood, silent. He'd never imagined that Russ was anything but the Emperor's hound. He advanced towards Russ again and embraced.
Oops. Looking forward to seeing your version! >_<
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Hey guys good work so far! Frankly I like your take as it removes alot of the autism and unbelievability from the primarchs. None of the boys who fell to chaos were ever even stalin/hitler tier; just bigass tyrants.

That being said I do think everything is going a bit too happily; the only TEARS happening in the plot as of now are from primarchs feeling bad about what alternate versions of themselves did.

Basically what I'm getting at is there ought to be some more situations where someone gets taken out or goes down in a blaze of glory. I'm also not sold on the Emprah coming back either, tho the writefag bit about Magnus rezzing him was good. I think he ought to either get murdered in the siege of Terra somehow, or else get taken out in an epic battle during the resurgent crusade.

>this would be the greatest cause of manly tears of badassery
>the sons all put aside their differences to bring daddy back, and then he gets cut down too soon
>despite this they carry on and fulfill his vision
>none were ever their father's equal, but together the parts are greater than the whole
>they realize what they were meant to be

sorry I meant toddlers, not tyrants

>too much of the queen's gin
i'd almost saw this is a call for grimdark edginess faggotry then i read the greentext.
*Novamarines. Typo, total typo.

"Aye aye!" Carth chortled as he opened a hail of death with his Heavy Bolter.

The White Scar and Ravenwing Veteran began their wild ride on top of the corpses of dead gaunts, opening fire on anything that they could find. One Tervigon was taken down by a surprise assault by the two, and soon they had a good vantage point.
But even that did not prepare them for what they would see.

"Techmarine, do you see...someone riding a Carnifex?" Armel could not believe it.
Taikei was speechless.
"Captain, we have a point secured and...there's someone on top of a Carnifex."
The Captain voxed back, "What? That would be-"
"I am seeing him right now," Taikei opened up, "And he is riding that Carnifex like a common Grox. And I know. People on Chogoris have done this since the times of the Khan."
Captain Tassalar was incredulous. "I... Agh, I do not believe this. Nielen, go investigate!"

"You see it too, right?"
Now the two bikers and the Sanguinary Priest were witness to the Carnifex-rider now riding the bucking monstrosity charging like a bull through the swarm, slamming full force into one of the Tyrannofexes.
"Well I'll be." The Sanguinary Priest opened his vox, "They are not seeing things. Unless I am seeing things too, there is a man on top of that Carnifex, and he is riding it towards a Tyrannofex."
Another exasperated sigh. "Alright, now I am convinced. We are en route."

By the time the Novamarine, the Crimson Fist and the Wolf made it, the Carnifex was docile again as the gaunts finished feeding on the dead Tyrannofex.
"What in the twelve clans of Fenris is this madness?"
Tassalar looked at the bikers. "I have been proven wrong. This does not happen often."
"What should we do, Captain?" Carth asked.
"Our orders still stand," the Disciple of Caliban insisted. "We deliver the toxins."
"I agree," the Captain advised. "I am leaving it to you two. Nielen?"

"Right" The two got the vials and began speeding off.

So the bike began speeding off, firing upon any and every thing that dared cross their path with either bolts of fury or plasma doom. Warriors, Gaunts, Biovores, even a Genestealer Broodlord, all of them were gunned. As they reached the Reclamation pools, they found themselves under fire from the Hive Guards, who fired their Impaler Cannons upon the bike and one hit even punctured Taikei in the shoulder. Fortunately, though, they were able to fell one of the fiends and make it to the reclamation pools to deliver the poisons.

However, they were down to their last vial when they found themselves beset by the last thing any of them wanted to see: A Flying Hive Tyrant. It swooped to and fro, heckling the bikers on their delivery mission, occasionally opening fire with the twin-linked devourers.
"Damn, I cannot even get a bead on the blight!"
"And his air raids are making it impossible for me to operate!" A swerve managed to get the Tyrant to miss, but it also led them straight to a Venomthrope's suffocating toxic miasma. Armel gunned it again and boosted his way out of the way and found themselves colliding with another Carnifex. Armel tried to start the bike again, but the damage was too severe.
"Of all the times to break down...!"
Taikei grabbed his power axe. "We will not abandon this to them."
Armel shared the sentiment and grabbed a flamer. "Not without a fight." He ignited the horde, giving cover to the Techmarine as he repaired the bike to the best of his abilities, but the beasts were growing bold. It was only a matter of time before the flamer became next-to-useless on them.
However, just before the horde swelled once more, it backed away. Fearing the Tyrant's arrival, the two spun about face to find instead the mounted Carnifex.
"Ohhhh, what now?" Armel edged to Takiei.
"Allow me." Taikei raised his power axe to rider. "Hail, noble rider! Your mounting skills impress me!"

"I will hold you responsible if he sics that on me."

The two were tense again when the rider spoke.
"I know why you are here. You seek to destroy this hungering mass." A rapping of knuckles lowered the beast's head. "It seems to be a trend that has not stopped since ages past."
"And for a reason." Armel lowered his flamer. "These things would devour the system if they were not opposed."
The rider took a step forward. It became increasingly more obvious that this man was more than some Astartes. Not even an Ogryn could grow this tall.
"So you seek oblivion instead?" The titan finally met ground. The two were now alarmed at how lightly armored he was. He bared his chest and his head to the monsters and wore only a simple robe. Marks of multiple hues and multiple patterns raced across his skin, looking like they were made in any sort of media, be they splotches or intricate webbing. "You believe that you have any more right to this world than they do?"
"This world does belong to the Imperium." Taikei leveled his axe at the titan.
"It will not stay so. All things change, no possession eternal." He then drew from behind him an axe that looked more like a mere stick with a Hive Tyrant's Scything Talons ripped off and tied to it. "This once belonged to a king of this species. I saved his life once when he broke his leg. His kin then showed me gratitude. They are more than things to kill."
Armel raised his flamer. "That...sounds like Heresy to me."
The titan scoffed. "It only makes sense you were raised by him as a role model." He took a step forward. "All he saw in the life beyond Terra was filth to be cleansed. What he could not exploit to his ends, he would turn to a flaming ruin for the mere sin of defiance."
"The Emperor is all."
"No. He is not." He began walking past them. "And no matter how many times I must repeat that, I will find none of you who will listen."
I haven't been able to write anything all day I've been at work. (Angron fighting daemon Angron and fulgrim visiting istvaan III writefag)
And now I'm going to bed, cause I'm tired
The two were content with just letting the stranger leave as they finished repairing the bike when the Captain opened vox. "Bring. Him. In."
It seems that there was something far more than heresy that he was guilty of. Ironically enough, the Ravenwing rider, whose job was to explicitly find heretics and traitors to his chapter, could not figure out why.

"Get in!" Taikei cued him to switch spots, now operating as the driver. The two sped up in an instant to catch the giant again.
"What would you know about coexisting with xenos?" Taikei tried to catch his attention.
"More than any of your ilk would ever bother trying."
Armel cut in. "And who are you to claim that?"
The giant stopped. "So he's gone that far, huh? My very existence erased from history because I do not conform to his perfect plan?"

The Sanguinary Priest then landed beside them from jump-pack.
"What was it that- Oh... No, that would mean..."
"What?" The bikers turned to the new arrival.
"He looks... No, he is the size of a Primarch, but..." He was lost in thought.
"A Primarch? Are you insane?"
The giant silenced them all, "Primarch I once was called. Not anymore. That title belongs to murderers."

Everyone dropped their arms in dumbstruck awe.
"Tha-wha-this..." Armel was first to recover "No. No! That is a horrible joke. Now the truth!"
He walked again. This time Nielen began tailing the giant.
"Forgive my brother, he is a very upfront-"
"I have told the truth, and he did not listen."
"The truth?" Nielen asked. "No, there is more to this. Something that nobody is mentioning..."
Armel spat out, "He's a heretic! He consorts with xenos!"
"A Primarch? Consorting with Xenos? Why?"
"They have the same inheritance of this universe that we do. They belong here just as much as you do, and if he still fails to understand that, then leave me."
The Priest began piecing something together.
"He? Who is He?"
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>crusade2.0 is bretty good so far
>clapping intensifies
>a few epic zeno bros
>reborn emprah and magnus detect some lolchaos faggotry and launch into the warp to prevent lolchaosanalrapefaggotry.jpeg
>get cut down standing back to back
>primarchs mourn
>crusade continues
>final epic battle
>moratarion holds the line against impossible odds b4 getting snuffed
>astartes lolwinbutton fails
>kruze volunteers to deliver it himself
>b4 he can do it guardsman Captain Mathaius Ward steals a Stormtalon and whips into the void, vaporizing chaos forever

The painted face of the giant grew a smile. "You seem to be the smart one among your kin. Figure it out."

Nielen kept his pace while thinking before halted in abject horror.
"That....By the Emeperor, that.... No... You really are a Primarch. You mean the Emperor?"
He stopped.
"The Emperor banned Xenos interactions and in doing that, or perhaps before that, he had to remove your legion."
He turned around. It seemed that the Sanguinary Priest was right after all. "That legion was hardly mine. My people, they traverse the stars without need to murder everything for the sin of being different."
The Priest argued, "But the reason we are fighting the xenos is because they would destroy us otherwise. These things, they do not know anything other than ravenous hunger. How are we to stop that? Should we seek to instead befriend every race, even if they do try to destroy us?"
"I am not idealistic enough to believe that. But what I do believe is that there is a way to coexist without war."

Before he could even respond to that, though, Nielen's vox opened. "Nielen!" The Captain called. "An Inquisitorial shuttle will be here soon. Keep him there at all costs!"
"It will be done." He turned around to the giant.
"So, they seek to make me account for my sins?"
The Priest would have said yes. That was the obvious response after all. But after hearing this story, one that supposedly lasted far before Heresy was even a word, he hesitated. "I...I hesitate to that. I have no clue who you would be accountable to, short of Him on Terra, but even then, how am I to call that?"
The giant placed his hand on the Astartes' shoulder. "Do not think of what he or his fiefdom demand. What is your belief?"
"I..." He thought this over. "I do not believe I have the faculties to judge you for Heresy. Let someone else solve that."
>Tomorrow if this thread still lives by then
Don't know if anyone has said, but I'm liking this.
On the vox screen there is a moment of static and then a face paled and stretched as much as by countless years, as by the hatred cooled the spite that sets those fleshless lips at an angle that even in repose would speak to years of a hard and unrelenting fight and now sets the entire face in a look, not of any particular live malice, but in the glowing embers of rage. It is the face of total resignation, a zealot for whom what is to come is as natural as purging xenos and killing the heretic.
"Hello, my Imperium. It has come to our attention that beings styling themselves 'Primarchs' have emerged from the warp. Whether they be daemons or some stranger thing, we do not know, but their presence is a heresy against the Emperor and His Order. I have taken control of the High Lords of Terra, and with my allies will hold Holy Terra at all costs. To those warp-spawned abominations, know that I, as guardian of His vision and His plan, will never let Terra fall into your hands. I will not let you change His decree. To prevent your heresy from spreading, I have taken the liberty of placing several cyclonic torpedoes on Terra, and, should anything happen to me or my demands are not met, I will vapourise this planet rather than see it fall into your degenerate hands.
My faith is secure. My purpose is true. Martyr me and Terra if you must.

May the God Emperor have mercy on our souls."
The transcript of the speech was on Sister Yketrina Ramius' desk within minutes of the broadcast. As if there wasn't enough on it already.
The com channels had been going wild since the supposed appearance of 'Primarchs' and their 'fleets' days before, and though the Order was supposed to listen in on only 'Xenos or Heretical' channels, they'd been unable to resist tapping many of the Fleet and Inquisitorial networks. Besides, half the Inquisition had asked them to keep an eye on the Inquisition for them and who were humble Sisters Dialoguos to refuse Inquisitorial Mandate?
According to broadcasts off Fenris, an ancient dread named Bern or something had ID'd Russ, but then old dreadnoughts had crazy notions and they all wanted to believe. Emperor, Yketrina wanted to believe too, even if Russ hadn't been as cool as Corax, or, though she hesitated to admit it, Kurze. The children's books she'd grown up with in the Progenium had been very clear about the villainy of the traitor legions, but the official depiction never sat well with her and with the training in psychology the sisters had given her, she figured there must be more to the story. Perhaps they'd get to find out. Or not, if this mad Libricar had his way. Which brought her back to the matter at hand, namely how to stop him from vaporizing Terra. And figuring out if these Primarchs were the real thing. Unfortunately, only the latter seemed like it had any definite hope of resolution.

Meh, I'm not liking how this one is going, if you all think the structure/character works, let me know, as the plan is to have her be watching as chaos invades terra and tell that story from her POV, which is basically the NSA watching everyone else talking about it.
OP of the original thread here, just popping in to say that this thread is made of awesome, and to remind all that only the Dead Primarchs and Traitor Primarchs were copies. Leman Russ, Khan, El'Johnson, and Vulkan are still running about somewhere with no more knowledge of all this than anyone else.
(I think, never done this before.)
i like it because it adds a different point of view, not just raving zealots on one side or the primarchs and shenanigans on the other but what the actual populace is thinking while this is going on.
So the timeline I'm seeing is thus:
Ships pop up
Crazy Inq takes Terra Hostage
Alpha Legion invades Terra, with a premature Black Crusade, killing the inq (gets eaten by daemons or some shit), giving the Primarchs the chance to save the day. It is entirely possible that the Obsidian Mirror has also sparked a major Waaaaaagh to give the primarchs an excuse to be the hero, not knowing about AL's plans.
AL withdraws, leaving traitors to die.
Everyone splits up to shore up defenses as riots break out across the imperium as people are freaked out that Horus is here to save the day.
Magnus begins his magic.

Shit goes poorly, Magnus's ritual weakens the barrier between reality and the warp. The Chaos gods are going into overdrive, promote Huron. Cadia falls. There's a running battle. This is when Angron fights Angron and when P and D defeat P, but as Magnus' ritual progresses shit gets more dire, until everyone is on Terra in the throne room for the 3rd siege of Terra. (1st is Heresy, second is when Chaos takes parts of it as part of AL's plan)

That seem consistent?
Sounds right so far.
Oh, and Guzkull hits beast level waaaagh. Armageddon falls when the Templars have to scramble to prepare to fight traitors.
I'd be tempted to suggest nids being posessed by chaos, but will that piss off nidfags? I mean I can imagine a really creepy scene where Slaneesh goes over to the hivemind feels its hunger and tells it it understands the depth of its passion. Slaneesh feels that hunger too, a hunger for so many things. If only they could work together. But no, the hivemind isn't one for the finer things, are you. You just eat and eat and eat. Gluttony. Which is sad, you miss so much.
The hive mind snarls at the prince of pleasure.
Really, I should give you your desire. I can do that, you know? I can make it all better. Don't pout, it makes you so grotesque. But here, tell me about the depths of your feelings and your obsessions.
And then Slaneesh eats the hivemind.
And with it, the Nids become an aspect of she who thirsts.
The giant looked at his Tyranid mount. "I suppose this is the end, then."
Valk had arrived just as he began to speak in some bizarre language of growls and hums, mixed with words that had to be from some language.
"Wait..." he was perturbed, "Is he...talking to that thing? AND IT'S LISTENING?!"
"Wait, that was a language?"
The Carnifex left as the giant began walking with then. "Now I go along with your laws."
Nielen was surprised. "What? Why?"
"Because if someone like you exists, someone who knows more than just murdering in the name of a god that is not, then there is hope yet."
"God that is not?" Valk caught on to the insult. "You dare-" Nielen cut him off with a swift hand.
"Don't. This is the closest we have gotten to getting him to cooperate. I can only hope the Captain can do the same."

The Kill-Team reunited at the top of the hill, Tassalar and Carth reloading their rounds in the midst while Taikei and Armel rode in on their now-repaired attack bike.
"By the Golden Throne..." Uttered the Captain. "What is he?"
The giant intoned, "Someone whom history now sees fit to remember."
"What does that even mean?"
Nielen whispered over the vox, "There is too much here even I cannot make sure of."
The Captain followed along. "Did Valk scan him?"
"He is just as surprised as the rest of us are."
Valk jumped in on the vox, "He is more than a man. Far more than any I have met. For one thing, when he was talking to that Carnifex, I could sense something melding their spirits together. He has to be some sort of psyker, but not strong enough to notice by any means."
"A Psyker? Amongst Tyranids?"
"I can't make heads or tails of this either, Captain."
Before an argument could arise over the giant's possible status as a psyker, the Inquisitorial shuttle arrived and the Kill-Team, plus one, filed in.

>How does this hold up to the others?
Curze sat quietly in a cramped corridor in one of the Vengeful Spirit's forgotten decks. He stared at the floor, eyes seeing nothing. The faintest sound caused him to look up. Corax looked back, his pale face practically the mirror of Conrad's. The differences between them spoke volumes: Corax' hair was swept back from his face, while Conrad's hung over his face, obscuring his eyes. Conrad's eyes were sunken into his face, while Corax' cooly regarded the Night Lord, easily piercing the gloom of the abandoned corridor.
"I was wondering who would find me first." murmured Curze,
"Of course It would be you."
"I was born in the dark as well, Conrad." said Corax, sitting down next to his fellow primarch. He watched as Conrad dropped his head into his hands and began kneading his skull with the tips of his fingers.
"No." Konrad looked up with a faintly crazed look on his face.
"For the first time in... before I can remember. My head is clear. Look:" He seized Corax' wrist in his hand, fingers digging in like steel cables.
"Nothing. I see nothing." He let go of Corax and shuffled along the bench they were sitting on.
"What did you see?" said Corax, attempting to coax the feeling back into his hand.
"Everytime I touched someone, I would see how they died. Anyone."
"We've touched before now, what did you see of me?"
"You were killed."
"There I was, thinking I'd choke to death on a fish bone." Conrad snorted. Corax continued:
"Who by?"
"So," a voice welcomed them in. "You must be the team that was stationed on Andamiss Primaris?"
"Watch Captain Eiric Tassalar of the Novamarines," the Captaine bowed. "My kill-team is ready to do your bidding."
"And this one?"
"We..." he tried to remain formal while voicing his uncertainty. "We have no clue what he is. We wish to leave that judgment up to you, lord Inquisitor."

A man stepped in, wearing a black robe and several ornate medals among which was his Rosette. "What he is..." He began, "is the key I needed."
"That man," He pointed to the giant. "He can talk to them. He can pacify the Tyranids! How does that even happen in this universe?"
"Wait..." the Captain noticed something suspicious. "Who are you?"
"Inquisitor Carrol Accipitus, Ordo Xenos. Your Lord Inquisitor had sent me to retrieve you."
The Captain rose and pointed his Plasma Pistol at the man. "Lord Inquisitor Demator is an Almathian, but there is no way he is a Xenos Heretic."
"Because he isn't." The Inquisitor raised his hand, revealing a rosarius on his person. "Now, may I continue?"
The giant stepped in. "What is your plan then?"
Accipitus continued, "You must tell me how you managed to pacify those Tyranids. How did you make yourself invisible to the Hive Mind?"
"Invisible, I am not." He sat cross-legged on the floor. "But what I am is a friendly hand to those that need it, no matter their species or creed."
"Altruism? You're telling me that your power is altruism? That's absurd! Insane!"
"More than that." Everyone seemed to hinge upon the giant's words. "I am the link of nature between all forms of nature. Where your ilk seek to kill everything for obstructing a fabricated manifest destiny, I seek to build a bond between what exists."
"We believe he is a psyker," Tassalar gritted his teeth. "Not that this would make sense with the Shadow in the Warp cast over this world."
"A telepath?" Accipitus surmised.
"More. I am a kinsmen"
I'm liking this a lot, glad I suggested the character for this, makes me swell with manly tears and pride
Are we having the crons wake up at an advanced rate here, because I feel we could add a lot of awesome with some war in heaven level weaponry, which they would use if humanity was a threat to them and I think great crusade part 2 would be considered that as they'd probably be ROFLstomping tomb worlds
Perhaps they could detect the Emperor's resurrection and the brightening of the astronomicon after the liberation of Terra. This would provide both the impetus for their awakening to intensify and would provide a good way to link acts 1&2 of the story together.
Maybe the Maynarkh the Nihilakh and the empire of the severed unite and begin awakening other tomb worlds after spreading some type of digital virus in them making them slaves to those 3 houses, or just use mindshackle scarabs that work on necrons
Making the independent necrons a bigger threat and they new necron empire becomes a huge threat as well.
I wouldn't mind seeing an expedition into Ghoul Stars to find the home of the Flayed ones.
Have the pirate Primarch attacking tomb worlds also could be awesome. Chief thunder negotiates a peace treaty with an eldar craft world because it would make fighting the newly awakened threat
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I've thought of the theme we could have for Return of the Primarchs.
Pic very related.
Oooh that could also lead to a crusade against the pale wasting as well, ill writefag some stuff after work, I get off at 2.
"Kinsman?" Valk cocked an eyebrow. "The feth does that mean?"
The giant told the radical Inquisitor, "Go to the world Ka'Savva. There is someone there that will explain this."
"Ka'Savva?" Inquisitor Accipitus balked, "But that's Tau territory! There is no t a chance that I-"
"They will listen to me."

The shuttle eventually it made it's destination on the Inquisitor's main ship. Once there, the ship began a Warp Jump to the planet mentioned.

As the ship was about to enter the system Ka'Savva was in, they heard a transmission.
The Inquisitor was about to make some response when the Giant stepped in. "I wish to speak with Shas'El Kel'Mio. I wish to make a point to these Imperials."
The line was quiet for a while when another voice came on. "The Thunder-Bearer? You live still?"
"It is good to see you too."
"Very well," the line went. "I will be on the shuttle to meet you. You may bring only two guests with you." It ended.
"Well, I can't believe it," Accipitus paled. "He has a Tau friend."
Captain Tassalar, still trying to piece together what had happened, stepped forward. "I will not let you leave so easily."
The giant turned to face him, the Captain suddenly realizing the shadow cast over him. "I am not afraid of others because they are not human. That would be you."

The three went to the landing bay when the Tau shuttle landed. Emerging from there was a retinue of Fire Warriors and a much older Tau, wearing what looked to be some Imperial armour mixed among native Tau armour. The giant met the Tau and the two grasped hands.
"I am glad to see you still alive, Chief."
"I share the sentiment, Wind-Stalker."

The Captain and the Inquisitor were both alarmed by the familiarity, which neither of them had seen before in their lives.
So, is it the return of the other primarchs that he has brought Thunder-bearer out of hiding, or is he still in the dark about them?
He is very much still in the dark about the rest of the Primarchs returning.

Maybe I'll get to that next thread, as I'm about to leave for work and won't be back until much later.
I've been cooking up some new ideas. As soon as I'm done with this psychology, I'll be right on it.
Do that Perturabo/Dorn thing.
Which one?
Siege stuff, how will they go about

a) disarming a shitton of cyclone torpedoes
b) beating the spiky boyz to Terra / winning siege after planetfall
Also, I might be - later on in the evening - writing a short part about Bjorn droppodding to the surface of Terra and omnomnoming chaos pricks as he leads a company towards Emps or whoever. Writing about Horus getting back is fun and all, but I want to get to some real action.
So far I've thought of Corax and Curze sneaking into the Sol system via the Raven Guard strike cruiser which brought Corax to the muster. Using its stealth systems, they arrive in Titan orbit and capture the Cassini array, without the people manning the station sending out a call for help. From there, I could see Corax taking the strike cruiser (stuffed full of Luna Wolf shock troops) as deep into Terra's sphere of influence as possible, which could provide an opportunity for them to get the cyclonic torpedoes away from the inquisitor. Sound alright?
Eh, I think Corax/Curze/Alpharius/Omegon working together to steal the torpedoes out from under the Inquisitor's noses without them noticing would be a lot more fun.
The Ragnarok's strategum room had emptied, the other primarchs leaving to sort out their own legions. All that remained was the Lord of Ravens and the Night Haunter. Corax was studying the strategum projection of the Sol system, with Curze standing off to the side, intrigued in spite of himself. Corax' fingers moved deftly over the controls, panning the view away from Terra, and closing on a ringed planet which Conrad did not recognise.
"What's that?"
"Saturn. Base of Battlefleet Solar, and location of the Imperial shipyards." The view zoomed in further, to a large planetoid in orbit of saturn. Conrad glanced at the tag affixed to the projection: TITAN. Corax zoomed in even further, past the moon, to a minute station that quickly expanded to fill the projection.
"There," said Corax, stepping back from the controls:
"That's our target. The Cassini array."
Conrad stared at him.
"Care to elaborate, for those of us who do not share your thoughts?"
Corax scowled, as though his plan should have been obvious.
"The array is an ancient lance array, built during the Golden Age, the mechanicum reverse-engineering it lead to the use of lance weapons today. It's shots can reach past the orbit of Pluto, but if we turn it inwards-"
"A clear shot at Terra, I see."
"We can destroy half terra's defences before they know who is shooting at them."
Curze folded his arms.
"Are you forgetting the Inquisitor's Final Solution?"
"Leave the torpedoes to me."
Perhaps you're right, maybe Alph/Omg could've already infiltrated the assassin temples. Hmm, I'm unsure of how to fit this all together, any ideas?
I have an idea for how we could fit the inquisitor plotline with the chaos attack, perhaps after the inquisitor has been dealt with, like a day after, the chaos forces could attack, and the loyalists have to try and use the defences that they shattered to fight them off. We could then fit in all kinds of primarch on daemon primarch action. Good idea?(Y/N)
for additional man-tears and self-sacrifice imagine this:
- Dark Eldar can basically breed out of vats and Comorragh is farily large and populated, much more than their Eldar brethren
- Khan was there solo/with a small squad of guys to piss in their cheerios
- obviously he won't be able to take them all down, he forges a pirate fleet to aid Terra
- a scene where Ragnarok's captain sees Khan enter, and right after him a whole fucking horde of pissed off Dark Eldar starships, sent there by Slaneesh who begins to understand that shit hit the fan
- He orders everyone to board thunderhawks and leave as he takes collision course with the enemy flagship when it becomes obvious humans are outgunned
- then a Space Wolf Captain says shit like "in this together, for the Emprah"
- they are the only two souls onboard, and they begin to chant a prayer which is SO FUCKING POWERFUL it creates a shield out of pure psyker energy in front of the ship
- it goes in, fires gigantic fucking broadsides wrecking DE units
- it goes out in a blaze of glory at it crashes at full speed, psychic shield still up front surrounding the FUCKING HUGE statue of Emprah in the front of the battleship
- they save the day and people on the surface of Terra cheer and weep as they realise what happened

allright I need some feedback if this shit should be done
Take out the psychic shield part and that would be great.
My thinking was it's basically a three-way: Terra full of rebel inquisitors, around it Chaos and it's Black Crusade that arrived after conquering Cadia, and behind them - the righteous fucking retribution.

However what you say is fine by me, we could do it this way:
Magnus is still busy reviving Emps
Primarchs set up defensive positions as they brace for the arrival of everyone's favourite armless general
Chaos arrives, battle ensues, Khan arrives with reinforcements, DE hop in in pursuit of him, shit hits the fan, Ragnarok blows up DE, loyalists beat up Chaos, Abaddon gets sent back to Warp, Emps revives at the very end and the Great Crusade mk 2 begins

How's that?
I imagined it more like:
*take out inquisitor
*loyalists occupy sol system
*chaos arrives, loyalist defence hampered by smashed defences
*Khan arrives with Pirate fleet to turn the tide
*Some time later: terra being rebuilt, primarchs sorting out their own affairs (and alt selves)
*Magnus revives big E,
Also new thread.
Eh, I have an awesome vision in my mind of Crax/Crze/Alph/Omgn chasing one of the Inqs through the assassinorum hq, engaging in countersnipe actions with Vindicares, trying to outstealth Callidus etc...
At the end they chase him into a massive room filled with tens of thousands of stasis chambers, inside each of which is an Eversor Assassin.
The Inq releases the murdermachines, is promptly cut down and then the four Primarchs have to survive the Eversor onslaught long enough for their reinforcements to arrive and evacuate them.
make a thread and post the link here. Also someone who knows how to please archive this whole thing if it hasn't been done already
Perhaps we could have it that the Eversor stasis chambers are set up to open at the slightest touch, meaning the primarchs have to fight the inquisitor without so much as brushing the chambers? Your idea is still good though.
Allright, since you guys got great ideas how to sort out this whole inquisitor ordeal, I'm not going to touch it so we don't get in our way.
Instead I'll do this Ragnarok battle bit and Bjorn in melee vs Chaos invasion troops
How do I link threads together?
Go to the main /tg/, make a thread, in it post a link to this one's OP and maybe the last post.
It'll get posted on the main page but still link to the old one so people know where to migrate
New thread: >>30851860

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