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= Notable Daemons and Followers of the Dark Gods = == The Three Great Warlords of Chaos == === Lady Malys === See [[Nobledark_Imperium_Notes#Lady_Malys|Lady Malys]] (PLACEHOLDER) '''See Also:''' [[Nobledark_Imperium_Writing#Me_Time|Me Time]] === Luther === See [[Nobledark_Imperium_Primarchs#Lion|Lion El'Jonson]] EDITOR'S NOTE: Needs expansion of deeds post-fall and his actions as leader of the biggest chunk of Fallen. === Be'lakor === EDITOR'S NOTE: Needs expansion ''"The eight-pointed star. You have no idea how much I hate what that symbol has become. Once it actually meant something. To my people, it represented the symbolic representation of one of the fundamental truths of the universe. The idea that from nothing, came everything. My people found beauty in it, covered their architecture with it, [[Nobledark_Imperium_Notes#Blackstone_Fortresses|built starships in its shape]]. It was by this ethos that we lived our lives. Even though I’m far from the sentimental sort, I must admit I preferred that interpretation over what has become. A symbol for [[Nobledark_Imperium_Forces_of_Chaos#The_Crone_World_Eldar|unruly, undisciplined children]] and [[Chaos Gods|broken constructs]] to define themselves by.'' ''I suppose by your standards the best way of putting it would be as if a universal statement of purpose and philosophy had been turned into a gang sign. There’s nothing I hated more than what I had to brand myself with that sigil in a twisted way of paying fealty to those who now dominate the Warp. I’m sure the very least to the Changer of Ways knows the original meaning behind the symbol, and is probably laughing himself silly over the irony."''<br> -- Be’lakor, in a rare open musing to one of the [[Nobledark_Imperium_Chaos_Guard|Lost and the Damned]] The last of the Old Ones. The result of early Old One experimentation into the apotheosis of physical beings in the Warp, he is incensed that he "merely" reached daemon princedom, making him subservient to the Chaos Gods, who he sees as experimental artificial constructs akin to A.I. that have gone far beyond their station. Be'lakor serves the Chaos Gods, but he is not loyal to them, and has his own goals in mind. Be'lakor is old, one of the oldest beings in the galaxy, older than even the Chaos Gods. He remembers when Earth was inhabited by beings like him, and the forefathers of mankind were little more than rats that scurried beneath their toes. He remembers the Eldar before they were uplifted, and their pitched battles against the original [[Nobledark_Imperium_Notes#The_Mon-Keigh|Mon-Keigh]]. A great many mysteries of the galaxy could be solved if Be'lakor shared his wisdom. However, he does not, because he is [[That_Guy|cruel and capricious]], and because his knowledge of things everyone else has forgotten is his greatest asset. Indeed, the fact that Be'lakor even exists was [[Nobledark_Imperium_Drafts#Be.27lakor_and_the_Alpha_Legion|only discovered by the Imperium after much blood, sweat, and tears]]. Be’lakor’s followers almost universally worship Chaos Undivided or come from the Chaos Wastes. Although his followers tend to be fewer in number, they tend to make up for it by being more stable. ==The Four Champions of the Dark Gods== === Arrotyr, Marshall of the Scions of the Old Helm === [[Image:Grand Marshal Arrotyr.jpg|thumb|.]] <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">''''' Rage Enflamed: ''''' ''“Your foolishness is what has lead us to this fate farseer, now you will suffer by the servants of the true god of war”''<br> - Arrotyr, the Lord of Fire, Marshall of the Scions of the Broken Helm, before breaking off form the 5th Black Crusade Arrotyr came from one most prestigious military families of the Old Eldar Empire’s, one which dated all the way back to the War in Heaven. Indeed, it is only because of his lineage’s accomplishments that it is possible to trace Arrotyr’s genealogy that far back at all. Arrotyr’s ancestor Syndor was once one of the greatest warriors the Eldar Empire ever had. Syndor’s martial prowess and leadership was legendary, having gone so far as to have been one of the commanders present at the battle where Kaelis Ra, the Nightbringer, was finally struck down by Khaine. He was one of the few eldar warriors that had earned the respect of the necrontyr, it was even said that the Silent King himself had wished to meet the legendary warrior on the battlefield. He even gained a nemesis in the necrontyr, Imotekh the Stormlord, who Syndor defeated and spared. Such was Syndor's prestige, his soldiers were undefeated in battle and and at his command they lead the eldar race to victory after victory in the golden age of the Eldar Empire. However, eventually Syndor grew tired of life, and after five cycles of reincarnation Syndor finally decided to retire from this world. It is unclear whether Syndor truly experienced his final death, or if he merely reincarnated again but desired to start completely anew. However, before he died, Syndor gave his descendants one final piece of information. For when the Nightbringer was destroyed by Khaine and the aspect of the reaper was felt by all living beings, Syndor had a vision, a vision of a great burning eye opening, a fire that would consume the eldar race, and afterwards only ash would remain. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> Arrotyr was no less an impressive warrior than Syndor. Indeed, the only reason Arrotyr’s accomplishments were not as impressive as his forefather’s is that he never had a pan-galactic war on the scale of the War in Heaven to fight in. Arrotyr even bore a strong resemblance to his ancestor, with some whispering that he was really Syndor reborn once again. However, Arrotyr’s record was far from spotless, possibly exacerbated due to living in the last days of the Eldar Empire. Arrotyr was well known for his military acumen, but he was also well-known for being ruthless. While many Eldar in those days preferred to sneer at the more primitive races of the galaxy from the safety of the Crone Worlds, Arrotyr actually went so far as to argue hunting down any species that might one day rise to equal the Eldar in power, and his battle plans had a disturbing tendency to devolve into “kill them all and let Khaine sort them out”. Nevertheless, Arrotyr truly cared about the wellbeing of the eldar people. When the great carnal hedonism of the eldar race began and the pleasure cults sprung up in their wake Arrotyr remembered the words of his ancestor, and realized that this was the disaster Syndor had spoke of. Arrotyr would not let his kin be subjected to this fate, but when he tried to stop them, warning them that it would lead to the fall of their race the eldar would not listen, none keen on moralizing form the most blood soaked of their number. Arrotyr and his warriors were shunned by their kin, cast out for their attempts to save them. Arrotyr felt his love for his kind wither, he had tried to save them but they had rejected him, traitor they had called him, a fool that could not rejoice the golden age the eldar race had been graced. But it would not stop Arrotyr, he would not stop to try and save his kind. But as the ages flowed by, his finesse withered and his blood lust grew, his attempts to sway his kind become more aggressive and the vision of fire had soon consumed his sight. His belief in Khaine had been weakened, no god of his would let such horrendous actions be allowed, and when the eldar began to see their wrongs and they felt the birth of a new god to be present, they called upon Arrotyr to return and help save them from their fate. He concluded that there was only one being who could be responsible for the moral degredation of the eldar, the goddess of sex and fertility, Isha. Although many in the Eldar Empire knew the truth behind of the birth of Slaanesh, Arrotyr did not, and so saw Isha as the only “logical” culprit. Arrotyr returned to his race, but he now knew that saving them from this fate could only be done in one way. The Eldar Empire was now little more than an uncontrollable wildfire, and the only way to stop a fire is to smother it. When he returned to the Crone Worlds he began his race salvation, and as thousands of ships filled with eldar desperate to escape from the soul consuming infant of a new god, Arrotyr’s fleet began to fire at the fleeing vessels, he ordered his warrior to make landfall and to slay all eldar in sight. Arrotyr knew the only way to ensure the survival of his race would be to destroy the problem from the base. He made landfall to Shaa-Dome, and headed straight to the largest temple devoted to Isha on the planet. He intended to get rid of their gods who had done nothing to save them, starting by silencing the priestesses of the one who had caused this mess in the first place. As he neared the temple of Isha’s priesthood, he heard a whisper in his head, one who spoke of great favour for warriors and as he slew those who once had ridiculed him the voice grew louder. By the time he stood at the center of Isha’s temple, Arrotyr stood knee deep in the bodies of his kin, covered in blood and a screaming voice inside his head, calling for blood, and blood it would have. The fire had consumed his sight when he leapt into the chamber killing his way through those faithful to the goddess. As he and his men cleaved through the priestesses and acolytes Arrotyr realized that his actions would not bring him the goddess’ head, so Arrotyr ordered his men to continue the slaughter, if the birth of the new god was unstoppable they would at least leave nothing for it to consume. It was at the peak of this slaughter that the voice told Arrotyr his feats and granted him and his scions his blessing. The fire in Arrotyr’s eyes spew out, charring hundreds of eldar and then the fire consumed his body, soon he was a walking inferno, the gift spread, The scions of the broken helm had turned into living fires, turning all around them to ash. Arrotyr’s slaughter had turned from salvation to punishment. As Slaanesh was born and the eye was opened Arrotyr and his scions had left the crone worlds to their fate and instead left to bring those who had escaped to justice. Arrotyr and his warrior’s bodies burned away by the ages, the fire always burning, soon they would be walking skeletons, forever consumed by fire, locked in their armour bringing their kin to justice for the blood god. None could stand against the Scions of the Broken Helm, not the eldar, not even the Imperium, all would be punished, all but his old enemies, for it would be the reawakened Necrons that would drive him back. Imotekh the Stormlord, his old nemesis, had spent his sleep calculating the perfect strategy against Arrotyr, he would be the one to finally defeat the undefeatable eldar. As he caught whiff of Arrotyr’s conquests the Stormlord set his plan into action. Arrotyr had tried to chase down a craftworld and as he had begun to close in on it and the eldar onboard prepared for their final stand the Stormlord struck like a bolt of lightning. Even with the might of a military fleet and the blessing of Khorne the battle only lasted for 6 minutes and 34.4534 seconds, only 0.0002 seconds more than what the Stormlord had planned. The craftworld was saved from Arrotyr’s rage and was deemed beneath notice by Imotekh as he had won his battle. Arrotyr never faced Imotekh face-to-face, in fact he never faced any Necrons, he only knew that the Scions of the Old Helm could not win this battle as fast as the Necrons attacked, and that Imotekh had spared him. This angered Arrotyr even more because for the first time in his existence, Arrotyr had been defeated, and by a foe who even refused to take his head as befitting the creed of the Blood God. He returned to the eye, where he claimed some crone worlds so that he could lick his wounds. But his desire to punish his kin for their faults still burned deep within him. The next chance the two fought again was during the Eleventh Black Crusade. Arrotyr once again made his way away from the main force to bring judgement elsewhere but it would prove to short lived. For once again he faced battle against Imotekh the Stormlord who once again defeated Arrotyr, though this time the battle only lasted for 5 minutes and 4.3421 seconds, and once again he was spared by Nemesor who this time sent Arrotyr a message. “Honored warrior of the eldar, I Phaeron Imotekh, spare you today so that I once again can defeat you. Your ancestor brought my people to defeat and now the tables have turned, I shall forever battle you and I shall forever be victorious, I plan your every move, I foresee your every step. Even when the galaxy is dead shall I fight you. And I will win.” Thus was Arrotyr sent back to the Eye of Terror to lick his wounds once again, this rivalry has continued to the present, every time Arrotyr would gain any substantial leverage into the galaxy the Stormlord would be there and at every battle Imotekh would be victorious, the battles never lasting more than a few minutes. Today Arrotyr and his scions patrol the Crone worlds under the Blood God’s control. Only as a burning figure he plans his next move bring judgement to his kin, but he knows that wherever he goes Imotekh will be there to send him back. </div> </div> === Chosen Taskmaster of Slaanesh === By all accounts, a terror. The exacting, incomparable mind to which the Prince of Pleasure turns to plan the endless celebrations, projects, and adventures of the vast Slaaneshi cult, vested with all the godly power required for the whip hand of Shaa-Dome to manage his master's empire while the resplendent prince reclines. Though his youthful patron is the least of the Ruinous Powers, Iygonesh Orvas is the greatest of the four Crone champions, with access to more of his master's overwhelming power to twist reality and the warp than any of his rivals (with the possible exception for the Indigo Crow). Slaanesh has so empowered his servant specifically so that the former no-name courtier and cousin of the Eldar Royalty can serve as the executor of his god's will in the Eye and the wider galaxy, utterly exceeding the capacities of the servants of his patron's rivals even as the other dark Gods leave their vaster powers pent up in the deep warp. In this arrangement, the Taskmaster administrates a vast empire of Crones within the Eye so dominant that the other gods find far less foothold, providing a massive counterbalance of military and political power against the mystical force of Slaanesh's elders. In dominance of Crone culture Slaanesh builds spiritual power to further contest the other gods, and also take a more central position in the minds of the Imperium as foremost ruinous power, using both the Crones and the Imperium as vast psychic engines to grow its legend. This youthful vigor and care for the material galaxy, however perverse its expression, is the basis of the Taskmasters mission from Slaanesh, to see the Princedom of Pleasure extended over the galaxy so that all Materium might recognize Slaanesh as the Highest Being and make it so. === The Indigo Crow === [[Image:Indigo Crow.jpg|left|thumb|]] <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">''''' The Enigma: ''''' The Indigo Crow. The Indigo Crow. What can be known about the Indigo Crow? Well, first of all, the Indigo Crow does not exist, and yet does. For Tzeentch is Lord of Paradox as well as Change. The foremost servant of the Lord of Change can have no unmoving 'I', can have no solid core of an identity; all must be flux. So there can be no "person" (for lack of a better word) which is the Indigo Crow. And yet, Tzeentch itself changes hardly at all, identity changing on geologic timescales. So, too, its many daemons, and so too must the Crow. How are these two states reconciled? The secret is that the Indigo Crow is always changing, shifting every second into a totally new and random form. But, every time, that new and random form is the Indigo Crow. A set of unloaded dice coming up all sixes every time, millions upon millions of times in a row. Constant change resulting in no change. The Lord of Paradox is pleased. What mind resides in this form of ever-shifting static? Its form is its function is its thoughts, and thus its mind must likewise be both ever-changing and changeless. It can only know either what it is doing, or why it's doing it; never both. While the Indigo Crow knows what it is doing, its motive is in flux; all possible motivations that could lead to its action in a state of superposition, even- especially- those which are mutually contradictory. While it knows its motivations, all possible actions flowing from that motivation are in superposition, less than real but more than imaginary. The Indigo Crow's 'mind' is a pair of quantum waveforms, forever locked in opposing amplitudes. Perhaps as a result of this, the Indigo Crow either does not or cannot perceive the world with normal senses. Instead, its only method of perception is divination, foresight and hindsight, pre- and post-cognition. It 'sees' the world as a haze of probability, innumerable possible futures; and for that matter, possible pasts. Although this divination is exceptionally powerful, the Crow cannot see the present. It can see close to the present, very close, but for a second around itself it is blind. This is rarely a problem for it, usually it can see threats coming from far enough away to avoid them. Usually. As a consequence of this unusual mode of perception, the Indigo Crow frequently acts or reacts in relation to nonexistent stimuli; things that could have happened but didn't, false pasts. Sometimes this is revealed to be another play in a deeper plot. Sometimes it's just delusion. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> And sometimes it's something stranger still. There are indications that the Indigo Crow is capable of time travel and causality manipulation to some degree. That, just as a skilled pre-cognitive steers the course of history towards his preferred future, the Crow can steer the course of fate towards his preferred past, bringing plots and plans and schemes into being retroactively. Constrained by the need to be consistent with the rest of the universe in the present, but that is not as much of a constraint as one would hope. The Indigo Crow, although foremost among the Tzeentchian Crones, does not lead them in any conventional sense. It does not issue directives or prophecy. Instead, on its eternal winding path between the webway academies around the rim of the Eye, it has accumulated a vast parade. Hundreds, thousands, perhaps even millions of sorcerers and madmen follow the Indigo Crow, obsessively examining every syllable that spills from its mouth and every twitch of its limbs for encoded commands and hidden lessons. Many are obsessive in this regard; even on the Crow's rare ventures to real-space battlefields they follow, ignoring artillery shells and laser fire for the sake of their observations, continuing to observe and speculate even as they die in the crossfire. On occasion, a Crone who believes they have accumulated enough power and knowledge will challenge the Indigo Crow for its position and secrets. Whoever wins, when the smoke clears the Indigo Crow remains. Its form is its function is its thoughts; the foremost Crone follower of Tzeentch is the Indigo Crow. Always. The normal forces of the Imperium (for values of 'normal' that include most of the Inquisition and Astartes) have little to fear from the Crow. They are beneath its notice. Not for it the direct clash of steel and sorcery on the battlefield, or even the subtle weaving of plots that cripple whole sectors. In all honesty, the Indigo Crow may not fully realize the Imperium at large exists. Its focus is wholly on the strangest and most rarefied levels of the Great Game. Its opposition is the Alpha and Omega Legions, the Illuminati, Eldrad, Oscar and Isha, Magnus when he was still alive. Be'lakor, [[Nobledark_Imperium_Writing#Just_As_Planned|Tzeentch's oldest foe]]. The Deceiver and Orikan the Diviner with their magic pyramid scheme. Cegorach and his Harlequins. Sometimes Trazyn the Infinite or Ahriman and the Daemon Breakers when they're at the top of their game. And, of course, itself. These are the chosen foes of the Indigo Crow, and its private wars take place on a level most citizens of the Imperium do not even realize exist. This might be for the best. On the rare occasions the Crow exerts itself against the pawns, planets die. Or perhaps not; at the level it operates, success and failure is measured in far stranger and more important things than the lives of planets. </div> </div> === High Conservator of The Attendants of Isha === [[Image:Nimina Demthring.jpg|thumb|.]] <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">''''' The Evangelist of Nurgle: ''''' Matron Macha was not the first eldar to become the primary mortal focus of the cult of Isha, though she is certainly the fairer that remains in the galaxy's memory. Nimina Demthring, the High Conservator of the Attendants of Isha, is the other, and she is far from beloved by the mother goddess. She was born in the sprawling pleasure shrines of Shaa-Dome, into the worship of Khaine the bloody handed, and worship of an Isha that was witch-mother to her monstrous fairy kin. In the loathsome latter years of the Old Empire Demthring was initiated in the palatial shrine of the all-mother, and in the manic orgies of the fall she and that bleak coven were among those few that remained aloof from the purple cabal's entertainment. That is not to say that foul sisterhood refrained from the debauchery, and in that time Nimina bore innumerable strange children in the name of her goddess, and gleefully partook alongside her depraved superiors in that long corrupted convent. It can be said only that the wicked traditions and sacred fixations of Isha's followers preserved her worship as distinct from that of the gestating Prince of Pleasure, but in the end little but her cult and their prolific brood remained her faithful. As the empyrean hell welled up from the final debaucheries in the heart of the city that lay behind the doors in the hills, and the ships of the Old Empire returned to reign as fire upon the surface of the Shaa-Dome, this last strand of true and faithful worship dragged Isha on through the assaults of newborn Slaanesh. Burning Arrotyr, already damned, melted a shaft through the superstructure of the shellworld and came to strike down the witch-cult and atomize the temples. This he did, and after he slew and burned Isha's faithful in the middling layers the Marshal left again for his firestorm on the surface, driven back in equal measure by his contempt for the resurgent Slaaneshi and the ferocity of the newly realized daemons and cenobites followed. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> Though the near obliteration of Isha's remaining cult did next to nothing to impede Slaanesh's arrival in the universe, it left few but Demthring alive in her service. Arrotyr's hot iron sank deep into Shaa-Dome, and though it was meant to wipe Isha from existence it came just as she would have been made sport of by Slaanesh. As the Marshal and Taskmaster fought their first gory, maniacal war together Slaanesh had eyes for none but Khorne, and when the smoldering ruins of Isha's shrines were again made a boudoir for occult debauchees the mother goddess's witches were nowhere to be found. Nimina says it was in this time that Isha manifested before her, wearing the modified and sculpted body of the dying high priestess, and that she nursed the wounded, dying goddess as she hid in that form. They were attended to by Nimina's brood, and dwelt in the ruins of the shrine even as it was brought low by the war of the fall and turned to a charnel pit of discarded flesh and rubbish in the years of Slaanesh's endless victory celebration. Demthring and the high priestess remained in this state of foul hospice until the latter woman expired of her wounds, and of her company. Likewise, there in Slaanesh's midden mother Isha remained until father Nurgle extracted her, or so the High Conservator tells it. She says Nurgle's visits were frequent, doting upon them, adorning the embodied goddess and her with his gifts upon flesh and unclosing wound, until at last he drew up his courage and ferried them away to his estate. Demthring in that time had gathered what little was left of the coven, and by the providence of her loving care for the all-mother her brood came to dominate that near-dead order. Her foul children were the first conservators beneath her in this new cult, and no survivor of Arrontyr's purge had the will or means to contest her. They went with Isha into the realm of Nurgle, and took with them every relic, corpse, and scrap of holy writ. None were so bold to challenge Nurgle himself when the interlopers dared enter his vast mansion. Few were said to have glimpsed him, down the hazy length of an infinite hall, but those unlucky few were not among the raid's survivors. When a Warmaster, armor long ruined and body wreathed in a mandorla of golden flame, came seeking Isha she quailed and cowered in the chambers her host had quartered her in. The Steward of the Golden Throne, after searching the infinity of that foul house, came upon her in a chamber of fetid paradise. Isha dwelled in a jungle of long abandoned refuse cobbled into a parody of life, and pressing on through trees draped with rotting silk and boughs heavy with slops of fruit the Steward found her, surrounded by all manner of unlife and undeath, not least of which were the Attendants. When first he saw her, Isha was still bedecked in the finery of Nurgle's wife, the body of the high priestess he had so adorned for her. She was bloated and emaciated, gaunt, pallid, gangrenous, and swollen, eyes bloodshot and full of cataracts, flesh pimpled, blistered, and ulcerated, and the carcass she was given was splayed upon a hill of stones alike to coins of dirty ice. She coughed and shook, half buried in the mound, and around her shuddering form the Steward saw the figures of the Conservators. Nimina knew this interloper not to be hated Arrontyr, but had really no desire to reveal this to her goddess. She hailed Oscar as if she were the matron of Isha's cult of old, and entreated his congress with her own 'divinity', that he might be among the flock of the All-mother through herself. That the Steward came forewarned by Eldrad as to the situation of captivity in which Isha was held was good, but wholly unnecessary. Demthring was yet a vision of the Matron's beauty, as she understood it, and made great and excited offer of the eternity of wriggling, slick comfort in which Oscar would henceforth abide beside her. They vied against each other, briefly, and their exchange ended with the rotten body of the High Conservator strewn across the hill of embittered soulstones. The Warmaster took waifish, crone Isha in his arms and fled, and as she left the mansion of Nurgle the goddess seemed to die again. The long deceased form of the high priestess was shed on the threshold of the gate from which they emerged and for a moment, just as long as the rift persisted, Isha stood in glory in the materium before the seers of Eldrad and the assembled warriors. The door shut, the Matron Goddess collapsed into the body of the seer Macha, and the deed was complete. The High Conservator was not long dead, and easily reassembled. Nimina hates Oscar, more even than she hates Arrotyr or the Taskmaster. Maybe as much as she hates the Indigo Crow. She wants her sick waifu back so she can go back to nursing her precious baby. She absolutely hates leaving the Mansion of Nurgle, which she views as a perfect paradise, but she is also a weird sort of Isha evangelist. She essentially tries to rally the vat/murder-orgy born rabble to fight her infinite crusades to 'rescue' Isha, and preaches Nurglite doctrine in the name of Isha and calls it chaos undivided. Nimina isn't especially perceptive, adventurous, or deadly relative to the other three or Malys, or Vect, but she's single minded and really persistent, and had been constantly ready for action since the raid. Malys might need to convince or coerce the other faction leaders to fight in a black crusade, Nimina she needs to keep from pouring resources into non-productive sinkholes. </div> </div> == Notable Crone Eldar == === Riastrad === <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">''''' The Berserker: ''''' Riastrad was not alive during the days of the Old Eldar Empire, but was born in the years immediately after the Fall. Like many born into that strange post-Fall society with the fires of passion and the delusions of youth, he fell in with the Khornate cults, where he found his true calling. The rush of adrenaline and the raw thrill of striking down his foes called to Riastrad, more than anything else he had encountered in his life. Moreover, he was very good at it. He took skull after skull for the Skull Throne, until one day it was his blood that flowed to appease the Blood God. Riastrad’s band of Khornate berserkers had accompanied a larger Crone force in taking a minor world, and while the Crones had won the battle Riastrad was left forgotten among the dead and the dying. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> That would have been the end of Riastrad, then and there, had it not been for the passing Meatweaver Scathach. Scathach had been haunting the battlefield for the same reason all Meatweavers do: looking for spare parts and unsuspecting victims for their next creation. Finding a dying Khornate champion was quite the unexpected windfall. Seeing Riastrad in such a state struck Scathach with a fit of inspiration. In a fey mood of creativity, she took a damaged, empty wraithguard shell left behind by the defenders, fixed it to the best of her ability, and then used a soul stone to rip the dying warrior’s soul from his body and stick it inside the resulting abomination of wraithbone and tainted flesh. Crone Eldar are normally aghast at the use of soul stones, abhorring any such device that would keep one from communing with the gods at their death. It is one of the few things that most sects of Crone Eldar, who will normally fight to the death over the pettiest and most trivial of issues, agree upon. Meatweavers, however, are notoriously oblivious to any such social taboos even by Crone standards. Whatever the alien reasoning for her doing so, the results of Scathatch’s experiement satisfied her curiosity and she was pleased by the outcome. Riastrad, however, was not. Wraithguard shells are infamous for their lack of conventional sight and dulled physical sensation. Riastrad could no longer feel the rush of battle. He could not feel much of anything. Since that day Riastrad has become a nightmare, throwing himself into battle again and again without regard for his safety in a desperate attempt to feel something again. He wields dual scimitars, as he was when he was pure flesh and blood, but now ones scaled to a wraithguard in the manner of one of Vect’s Wraithblades. His wraithbone shell is ritually scarified with a thousand ruinous glyphs carved into its surface, and his form is draped with the flayed, blood-soaked hides of his foes. He wears no armor, at least not beyond his wraithbone shell, in the simple hopes that even receiving pain will give him some sensation or death will free him from his wraithbone imprisonment. His violence is accompanied by an ethereal warbling howl, which to others appears to be the shrieking of daemons but is really the Riastrad’s frustrated screams at being so close to what once gave him joy, but no longer. As might be expected, although it gives Riastrad no pleasure, such slaughter pleases the blood god. Riastrad often haunts the edges of Crone society, staying just long enough to hear the latest news before impatiently setting off for the nearest battlefield. It is not possible to buy Riastrad’s loyalty, but much like the Orks it is possible to entice him to the field of battle with promises of worthy foes and slaughter. Riastrad has even managed to surround himself with eager Khornate acolytes, much as he had once been. He is not their leader in any traditional sense, and indeed most of the time he barely deigns to notice their existence, at best striking down any impudent soul who gets in his way. Instead, Riastrad’s acolytes tend to follow him much as a hunter does a hunting hound. After all, he knows where the best slaughter is. </div> </div> === Malaria, the Living Hive === <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">''''' The Abomination: ''''' When the combined forces of man and eldar had invaded Nurgle’s mansion and wrested Isha from Nurgle’s captivity, none among the forces of Chaos were as shocked by this development as Nurgle himself. Khorne was angry, as he always was, ranting and raving about how the theft of Isha was an insult to all the Chaos Gods. Slaanesh was displeased, for they had still craved Isha for themselves and now the chances of having the last elder goddess at their mercy seemed as remote as ever. Tzeentch was annoyed, for he had used the presence of Isha as a tool to sow discontent among the Chaos Gods and now that tool was gone. But Nurgle. Nurgle was destitute. Nurgle had long been aware that existence was futile in a cosmic sense, having watched his every effort to preserve the beauty of the universe wither and be in vain, but this was the first time he had known despair on a personal level. For the Conservators of Isha, this was unacceptable. After venting his initial bout of fury upon realspace, Nurgle became despondent. The theft of Isha had forced the Lord of Stagnancy to change his lifestyle against his will, and he didn’t like it. Nurgle withdrew from the rest of the world, and the Conservators of Isha no longer received visits from their beloved Plaguefather. Something had to be done. And so it was that one brave high-priestess went before the Lord of Decay, and offered herself up as Nurgle’s guinea pig in Isha’s stead. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> The few remaining records of the Old Eldar Empire list her name as Maleriel, though across the galaxy she came to be known as Malaria for reasons that will soon become evident. Nurgle took Malaria up on her offer, and for a while it was good, or at least, as close to good as things could get in the Realm of Chaos. However, Nurgle’s mood soon began to sour. Malaria had been brave, but she was not Isha. Whereas Isha’s flesh would have always rejuvenated itself eventually no matter how noxious Nurgle’s creation, Malaria’s flesh warped and mutated. As much as it pained the Lord of Decay to admit it, it just wasn’t the same, and Malaria could never replace Isha in Nurgle’s heart. Nurgle ceased experimenting on Malaria and moved on to other things. The Conservators of Isha breathed a collective sigh of relief, they loved their Plaguefather, but they knew that few could survive such personal, painful attention from the Lord of Decay. However, perhaps the greatest abomination was yet to come: Malaria had proven herself to be one of those few. Today, Malaria is a living biohazard, a one-woman weapon of mass destruction. Nurgle had ceased his experimentation on Malaria, but not before he had merged her body with what was at the time his latest creation, the Destroyer Hive. After that, there was no more Maleriel. There was only Malaria, the Living Hive. Malaria is a disgusting creature. Half of her body is covered in hive-like outgrowths, resembling the honeycomb of a paper wasp or the inside of a termite mound, home to growing maggots, rot wasps, daemon flies, and plague gnats. However, the parts of her body that are not covered in these outgrowths, including much of her face save the area around her left eye, are covered by pale white skin, looking as pristine and flawless as they did the day of the Fall. However, this is only a veneer of normality, literally skin deep. Malaria has almost no original tissue left, and when she has been damaged in the past, breaking in half where most mortals would merely bleed, it is clear that her entire body is nothing more than honeycombs for the insects inside her with a thin layer of skin on top. She shouldn’t even be able to move, having no brain, muscle, or bone, being as much a creature of the warp as flesh and blood now, animated by the arcane powers of the warp and the soul of what was once an eldar. As for Malaria herself, she does not care as to her appearance. She has the mind of a child, despite producing swarms of plague-bearing insects so vast that they can blot out the sun. Malaria exists in a constant state of pleasure, happiness, and religious ecstasy so common to the followers of Nurgle as insects pupate inside her body, giggling like an innocent child in spite of the horror she leaves in her wake. </div> </div> === Kaimon Adrande and the Choir of Despair === <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%"> ''''' The King of Beastmasters...Or Perhaps Not: ''''' Deep at the center of the Eye of Terror, the shellworld of Shaa-Dome is a hive of industry. However, the employment opportunities offered on this world would be alien to any sane eyes, including such things as “daemon whisperer”, “ghastbone singer”, and “flesh warden”. Flesh wardens are the Crone Eldar that handle the various warp abominations the Cronedar capture or [[Nobledark_Imperium_Forces_of_Chaos#Nightmares|create]], breaking them for use as warbeasts or trading them to their kin in Commorragh. Among the most well-known flesh wardens is Kaimon Adrande, a Slaaneshi and the self-proclaimed “King of Beastmasters”. Such an appellation seems confusing at first, given that he counts sentient creatures among his chattel, until you realize that his definition of "beast" is rather lax, considering most sentient creatures including humans, orks, non-Crone Eldar, and even Crone Eldar he deems not sufficiently ambitious enough to count as übermenschen as opposed to sheep to be “beasts”. To the Slaaneshi the world is divided into the dominators and the dominated, there is no middle ground. Kaimon is well-known among the Croneworlders for his brash and arrogant attitude, even among Crone Eldar, attempting feats which most Crone Eldar would consider suicidal. He considers no feat too impossible, no feat too daring, and no beast which cannot be broken to his will. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> Although Kaimon has created and broken many war-beasts over the years, he considers his greatest creation to be his so-called “harem”, his confidant and personal warsteed, the Choir of Despair. It is unknown if the Choir of Despair is a true Nightmare animated by soul stones, or is some other form of Crone Eldar abomination made of ghastbone and twisted flesh. In contrast to most Nightmares, which are made up of hundreds of individuals, the Choir of Despair is only made up of eight souls. Kaimon claims they were a series of eight eldar sisters that he fused together into a single entity, though exactly where and how he got these souls is not clear. They could be Croneworlders, eldar kidnapped from an Exodite world, or it could be that Kaimon’s claim is merely a lie and the sisters of the Choir are merely eight random eldar merged into a single being (possibly not even all eldar). Regardless, Kaimon loves to regale people on the years the Choir spent in horror of their new form as he tried to break them, whether or not listeners want to hear it. From the waist up, the Choir resemble attractive eldar females attached by serpentine necks to the body of a great armored ghastbone beast. This armor is not put on in the manner of a warhorse, but is outright fused with their flesh. Their humanoid bodies are similarly modified, their hair replaced with segmented ghastbone tendrils and their body covered in chitinous ghastbone armor. Although each head has its own slightly different thoughts and opinions, they no longer have any sense of individuality and consider themselves a single entity. In battle, the heads of the Choir pick out and rip apart targets, tearing at their victims like piranhas as their body smashes through infantry lines, as if taking out their frustrations on the damned. Off the battlefield, the Choir serve, among other things, as Kaimon’s personal advisors, confidants, and quite frankly the only beings Kaimon actually trusts. Kaimon trusts the Choir implicitly, as he considers them to be so broken there is no chance of them attempting any treachery (indeed, it is likely that Kaimon is incapable of trusting any being unless they were broken to his will), and he relies on their many heads to offer him alternative perspectives and keep him informed of anything they see. However, there are whispers that the Choir is not as loyal as it might appear. The sisters of the Choir remember the indignities they have suffered from Kaimon upon their twisted flesh, and now they plot revenge. Over the years, the Choir has been advising Kaimon to undertake ever more brazen actions of increasing dangers, perhaps in the hopes that one of these outings will eventually kill him. If this were ever the case, it is likely the Choir would take the opportunity to sacrifice Kaimon’s soul as an offering to their own patron deity, Tzeentch. </div> </div> ==The Fallen== === Erebus === <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">''''' The Dark Apostle: ''''' Out of all the mortal followers of the Dark Gods, Erebus is one of the most mysterious, as well as the most disturbing. Just about the only thing that is known about him for sure is that “Erebus” isn’t his real name. Despite being well known during the Great Crusade as a chaplain of the Word Bearers, there is no record of anyone matching Erebus’ description ever joining the legion, though people aren’t sure if this is because a “recruit Erebus” never really existed or if he simply did a good job at covering his tracks. Erebus was born in the Yndonesian Bloc, much like the primarch Lorgar. When he was born, the priests tasked with interpreting the omens of his birth said that Erebus was born to a great destiny, that he was destined to bring the faith to all corners of the galaxy and his name would be remembered throughout history. It was this sense of destiny and a zeal for righteousness that led Erebus to join the Word Bearers, which he saw as the natural path for his destiny to be fulfilled. Throughout his life Erebus became known for his virtue and morality, with some people going so far as to say he was a veritable living saint. However, Erebus did not share these feelings. He always did what he thought was right, but he never achieved that sense of religious ecstasy that he felt he should be feeling if he was as great as people said and in general felt like a fraud. [[Archaon|Erebus had a crisis of faith, and begged for God to give him a sign, to show him that his doubts were unfounded and that he was truly meant to be a prophet as the prophecies had foretold]]. His prayers were answered, but [[Chaos Gods|not by the deities he expected]]. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> When Erebus' corruption was discovered by Lorgar during the War of the Beast he was given two chances to repent. The first following the discovery of his actions and subsequent fall from grace, the other opportunity a deathbed confession and repentance. Should Erebus still be in good health then poor health and deathbed could be arranged. Lorgar thought Erebus was just a misguided young man and could be redeemed. Erebus spat in Lorgar's face and was put in the critical care ward after being rushed by the other Word Bearers. Lorgar was well loved in his Legion. Spitting in Lorgar's face whilst the Chaplain-Primarch was holding out the hand of friendship in front of his fellow Word Bearers would have been nigh suicidal. After escaping from the critical care ward, Erebus pulled every string and cashed in every favor he had during the War of the Beast. This most famously manifested itself in the betrayal of Luther and the majority of the Dark Angels legion, but Erebus was able to convert small chunks of every legion to fall to the Ruinous Powers. However, things were not smooth sailing for Erebus. Multiple times during the War of the Beast people caught on to Erebus and the Dark Prophet was lucky enough to escape with his life. He was almost killed several times, but managed to survive like the roach he is. Today Erebus is the Dark Apostle of Chaos. While Lady Malys may be the favored servant of the Chaos Gods, Erebus is more often the one who acts as their prophet and transmits their will to their various followers. Indeed, he's usually the one that travels around to let others know that Lady Malys has called for another Black Crusade, and is often the one who tries to keep Lady Malys, Luther, and Be'lakor focused on a common goal rather than fighting each other. He mostly travels between the different Chaos warbands in his flagship. He calls it ''The Chariot of the Gods''. The Imperium knows it as the ''Planet Killer''. It’s a retrofitted Blackstone Fortress. Compared to the other major mortal followers of Chaos, Erebus is a relatively simple man. He is not a human supremacist like Luther, he does not have the appetite for anarchy and destruction of Lady Malys, and he has no desire for power like Be’lakor. His only desire seems to be the spread of Chaos for Chaos’ sake. As a result, he is one of the few beings that can act as messenger between the major followers of the Dark Gods, as he is the only one who is acceptable to all of them. He is human enough for Luther’s taste, is fanatical enough in his devotion to the Chaos Gods to please Lady Malys, and grovels enough to be tolerated by Be’lakor. During the War of the Beast, Erebus used the chaos created by Drach'nyen and his horde to break into the Interex Hall of Devices and steal the Kinebrach cursed blade known as "the Murder Sword". After obtaining it, had it melted down and reforged into a series of eight knives known as Anathames, which he entrusted to his most capable followers. These anathames, more colloquially known as "Murder Knives", still had fractions of the power of the original, and as such are capable of ripping holes in the fabric of space-time and killing any mortal provided one knows their true name. Any mortal. This includes the Emperor. Or the Empress' mortal form. Malys and the other Warlords of think they can bring down the Emperor and Empress through vast armies and great fleets of battleships marching on Old Earth itself. Erebus knows victory can be achieved through something far simpler. If more overt attacks on the Emperor or Isha fail, all he need is an opening to try and assassinate the Emperor or Empress via the Murder Knives. Erebus and the Emperor are in a bit of an unknowing proxy duel of philosophies. The Emperor believes that people at their core are fundamentally good, and all they need is a chance to express that. Erebus disagrees with that assertion. He feels that the idea that the Imperium brings out the best in people is more than a little hypocritical, as it only works because it is a benevolent dictatorship whose dictator happens to be benevolent, strong-willed, laisse-faire towards the populace, and most importantly, biologically immortal. The vast majority of leaders, , do not tend to share those traits. To Erebus, mortals are naturally sinners, who in the absence of divine guidance from an externally defined moral authority (even a brutally Darwinian one such as [[Chaos]]) devolve into [[Malal|complete anarchy]]. If the Emperor were to die, it is likely that no one else would be able to take his place and the Imperium would collapse into a totalitarian hellhole, allowing the nature of Chaos as the fundamental organizing principle of the universe to reassert itself. All he needs is for the Imperium to have one bad day. </div> </div> ===Urkrathos=== <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">'''''The Fleetmaster of Chaos:''''' The dark legend known as Urkrathos is a name whispered with both fear and grudging admiration amongst the officers of the Imperial Navy. Yet few know he was once a good and righteous warrior of the Legiones Astartes named Yisun, and serves as a warning to how even the best of humanity can fall to darkness. From his earliest days as a recruit of the White Scars, Yisun showed a keen mind for tactics and strategy. Through the Great Crusade and the War of the Beast he served with distinction and fervor, and by the Battle of Terra he earned his place in the elite First Company of the White Scars, the Great Khan’s Spearpoint Brotherhood, and had received his promotion to Veteran Sergeant. As a man, Yisun was unflinchingly honest with an unswerving, almost naïve faith in the Imperial ideals of justice and equality, and in contrast with most of comrades in his Legion, Yisun favored defensive tactics exploiting terrain to its maximum advantage with heavily armored units and overwhelming firepower. Combined with his stubborn nature, Yisun often butted heads with his superiors, and his supporters within the Legion argued that he should have been promoted to Captain several times over other less worthy officers. To Yisun, however, these arguments were hot air: duty was its own reward, and he was honored to serve whether or not others recognized his efforts. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> In the grim days of the Great Hunt and the Reclamation, the Imperial forces spread across the ashes of the galaxy to pick up the broken pieces of their Imperium, and the Legiones Astartes began to fracture in order to cover the vast expanses of space. During this time, Yisun was seconded to the 13th Company aboard the strike cruiser Divine Wind to assist the young Captain in his operations. The Captain was sharp and able, but there were whispers that he had been promoted prematurely to fill vacancies left by the War of the Beast, and thus he hungered to prove himself to his peers. The Captain’s reckless search of glory during the Hunt led to several open arguments and clashes when Yisun spoke out against the excessive risks to the men, and eventually the Captain and his command staff voted unanimously to strip the outspoken Sergeant of his rank and demote him to a Legionnaire. Many Marines within the 13th Company were outraged by the Captain’s overreach and insult against a popular and well-respected member of the First Company, and they demanded Yisun be reinstated. Yisun, however, accepted the punishment without complaint and instead urged his fellows to stand down to preserve the unity of the Company. He had faith in the judgment of the Great Khan, and knew that once they were reunited with the Legion Jaghatai would see the failings of the Captain and restore Yisun to his rightful place. And so the Hunt went on. Months passed as Yisun fought as a common Legionnaire beside the men he once led, and all too often he had to bite his tongue when he saw the stretchers of crippled and dead of the 13th Company, casualties that perhaps could have been avoided if the Captain had only been more careful. Finally, it all came to a head during an engagement against an elusive Chaos Sorcerer and his warband of Fallen the White Scars had long hunted. The 13th Company had split into two flanks to encircle the outnumbered and cornered enemy, yet as the White Scars advanced Yisun grew uneasy. He was already suspicious and wary of the advantageous terrain held by the traitor Marines, and to his horror he spotted subtle but telling signs of daemonic summoning. Without time to notify the Captain of the trap, Yisun seized command of the flank from the sergeants, who were more than willing to cede command to the honored veteran. As the Astartes of Yisun’s flank pulled together into a tight defensive circle the air was split with deafening screeches and filled with unholy light as daemons tore through seams in reality, and suddenly it was the White Scars who were outnumbered and surrounded. Rallying his men forward, Yisun led them as they hacked their way step by bloody step to the other flank where the Captain and the other Astartes were pushing back the daemons, beset on all sides. The Captain’s confusion at seeing the other Astartes quickly became fury when Yisun’s voice rang across the vox line suggesting immediate evacuation. The Captain saw that his plan was in tatters and without the other flank in the position the Fallen sorcerer had likely escaped, and so the White Scars withdrew to their Stormravens covered by a hail of bolts from the circling aircraft. Aboard the Divine Wind, Yisun was immediately arrested and thrown in the brig for court martial, and he accepted this without complaint. Even if it meant his death by execution, Yisun knew he had saved the men of the 13th Company from total annihilation. Yet he was horrified when he heard the Captain was planning to court martial the other sergeants who had aided him. Blameless men would die for his decision if he did not act, and so with great reluctance and sorrow Yisun passed a message to his supporters. That night, as the Astartes retreated to their quarters to rest, Yisun’s men quietly donned their Power Armor and began their takeover of the ship. Most of the Astartes, confused at the sight of their brothers in full armor, did not resist when they were placed in lockdown, and those loyal to the Captain were unarmed, unarmored, and quickly overwhelmed and subdued by the mutineers. One of them, however, managed to warn the Captain, and so the Captain and his command squad barricaded themselves in the bridge, greatly delaying the mutineers until they finally blasted through the reinforced bulkhead to capture the officers. With the ship under his control, Yisun plotted a course for the main fleet of the White Scars, intending to bring his case before the Great Khan himself. Even if he were to die for his crime, he could at least see to it that his men were spared and the Captain removed from command. Yet when the ship emerged at the fleet’s location after several weeks of warp travel, Yisun was shocked to see an armed escort of several cruisers awaiting his arrival. Upon establishing vox contact, the escort’s commander demanded that Yisun power down the ship and all mutineers surrender themselves to their custody, for the Captain had managed to send an astropathic message through the company librarian before they were captured, and the entire legion knew of Yisun’s treachery. Stunned by the hate in the commander’s voice, Yisun attempted to explain his reasons, and requested an audience with the Great Khan as a veteran of the First Company. The commander flatly refused, stating that it was Jaghatai himself who had given him his orders. Reeling from the news that his Khan thought him a traitor, Yisun ordered the warp drive to be activated. The escort ships immediately fired on the Divine Wind upon detecting the energy spike, yet Yisun refused to fire back at his brothers even as men aboard his ship died from the bombardment, and finally they were able to escape to the Warp with heavy damage. Stunned by the denial of even a chance to speak and consumed by grief at the betrayal of justice by the Great Khan he idolized, Yisun resolved to bring his case before another Primarch, for he still believed that righteousness would prevail in the Imperium, and so he plotted a course for the closest reported Primarch battlefleet. Had this Primarch been Vulkan, or Guilliman, perhaps Yisun could have returned to the fold of the Imperium and served loyally for many more years; unfortunately, the Primarch he found was unyielding Rogal Dorn. The Divine Wind soon reached the fleet of the Imperial Fists and passed through the patrols without incident. When they came into comms range of the mighty Phalanx, Yisun’s request to speak with Dorn was accepted; yet when Dorn’s stony visage came up on the communications console Yisun knew something was amiss. He had barely said a few words when Dorn interrupted, and the Primarch’s eyes were chips of flint as he gazed imperiously down at Yisun and announced that Yisun and his mutineers were to be taken prisoners and returned to the White Scars to face their justice. Yisun began to protest, but Dorn growled for him to save his breath, for the Khan himself had informed his fellow Primarchs of his anger and disappointment in the once honored veteran, and before Yisun could continue his explanation Dorn ended the call. As the Divine Wind activated its warp drive once again, it was struck by several ion bolts from the Phalanx, overloading the cruiser’s systems. As they drifted in space, Yisun could see thin red streaks emerge from the Phalanx as boarding pods hurtled towards the defenseless Divine Wind. Yisun was staggered. Dorn was famed in the Imperium for his integrity; true, the man was harsh and uncompromising, but always fair and impartial. For him to utterly ignore anything Yisun said and deny him his right to speak in his own defense spat on the very ideals of Imperial law, and this was the final straw. Something within Yisun broke, and his grief became rage. For the first time he saw the hollowness of the Imperium and its ideals, that in the end rules and words meant nothing and that those in power would decide the fate of those beneath them on a whim, no better than any of the dozens of petty despots he had helped crush during the Great Crusade. The Steward and his lackeys were soft and weak, he realized, granting leeway to the powerful and letting crime and strife run rampant in the name of “compassion” and “dignity.” Sitting in the darkened bridge as his men scrambled around him, Yisun cursed Dorn and Jaghatai, cursed their hypocrisy and blindness, cursed the Imperium that he had wasted his life defending. He vowed that if he were to escape, he would spend the rest of his life tearing down the Imperium, never resting until true law and order ruled over the galaxy, enforced by his iron hand. And in the darkness of the void, something heard him and laughed. There was a flash of light, and power surged through the Divine Wind’s systems, restoring their functionality. With full power to the engines and forward shields, the cruiser smashed through the surprised ships of the Imperial Fists, ramming past several frigates as boarding pods glanced off the recharged void shields. The Imperial Fists’ ships could not hope to match the modified engines of a White Scars strike cruiser, and soon the Divine Wind slipped beyond their range into the inky blackness of space. Once they were safe, Yisun gathered his crew, and standing before the Astartes Yisun spoke of his vision, a new empire built on the ashes on the Imperium where true justice and order would rule the galaxy. Many of the Marines were swayed by his fiery words, for they too felt victimized and betrayed by their leaders, and Yisun named his band of warriors the Chosen, for they were the ones who would tear down the rotten façade of the Imperium. Those who refused to join Yisun were not harmed, to their surprise, and were allowed to disembark unarmed upon a backwater planet. All except one: the Captain received a single bolt shell to the temple, the long overdue justice that had been denied within the Imperium. From that moment, the man who had been Yisun was dead. He cast off that name as a reminder of the shame of his past life of servitude, and in its place he took the name of Urkrathos, from an ancient myth of Old Earth in which a mortal man was betrayed by his father, king of the gods, and in vengeance crawled from Hell to the summit of the gods’ mountain to topple their corrupt kingdom. After their flight from Imperial Fists, Urkrathos and the Divine Wind largely disappeared from the gaze of the Imperium, though the White Scars never forgot the shame of one of their finest falling to Chaos. Urkrathos did not reappear until the 1st Black Crusade, when a wing of Raven Guard ships was ambushed by a Chaos squadron led by an aged Space Marine cruiser broadcasting Great Hunt era IFF codes, its hull twisted and blackened by exposure to the Warp. The Raven Guard ships were quickly outmaneuvered by the unknown captain’s masterful tactics and only a single crippled Imperial frigate managed to limp away from the battle with word of their loss. Word spread amongst the Imperium and the Chaos forces of the new warlord, and Urkrathos’ warband soon swelled with recruits as he won several of the overmatched Chaos forces rare victories against the overwhelming Imperium. His first and only defeat ever came late in the war against Abbadon, who privately remarked that Urkrathos was the finest fleet commander he ever faced and would have been a worthy Voidborn. The 1st Black Crusade drew to a close at the final Battle of Cadia, as Abbadon gave his life high above its skies and Dorn died holding its walls far below. Urkrathos retreated with the rest of the Chaos forces into the Eye of Terror, and within their marble halls on Chogoris the White Scars added the name of “Yisun” to their ancient Scrolls of Vengeance, vowing to hunt down their wayward brother and take his head to cleanse their shame. Over the next centuries Urkrathos consolidated his power and status as one of the preeminent Chaos Lords. He obtained his legendary battleship Testudo in a daring raid on the Imperial shipyards at Bakka, and over time he added additional weapons and reinforced its armor plating until it was a veritable fortress in space. Imperial captains and admirals quickly learned to fear the hulking black form of the Testudo and the trail of wreckages and burning ships it left in its wake. Such success did not come without attention, and even as Urkrathos’ fleet grew in ships and men his rivals plotted to bring him down. He destroyed several Chaos Lords foolhardy enough to challenge him in space, and several times he survived the attentions of the White Scars when they made him the target of their Hunts. Others sought to gain his loyalty and power for themselves, including Luther, Erebus, and even Lady Malys herself, and each of them received nothing but cold refusal from Urkrathos; Erebus in particular received his response in the form of a single contemptuous backhand to the jaw when he came to the Testudo in person to negotiate. The message was clear: Urkrathos would only ever help Chaos in his own time, on his own terms, when it served his purposes. For Urkrathos had never forgotten his vow: he and his Chosen fought not for glory or power or dark gods, but to overthrow the rule of the weak and corrupt and replace it with true order enforced by strength. To this end, they shunned the usage of Chaotic power and any exposure to the Immaterium to ensure their minds were their own. Whether this worked or not is uncertain, for none can touch Chaos and emerge unchanged, and it could very well have been that Urkrathos and his Chosen were slowly twisted as the dark gods worked in their inscrutable and insidious ways. Whatever the case, it is true the Chosen were unusually disciplined and effective for Chaos Space Marines; though they lacked the power of Khornate Berserkers or the resiliency of Plague Marines, they more than made up for it in cold, precise efficiency. Worlds raided by Urkrathos and the Chosen often found the collateral damage to be quite limited for a Chaos incursion, though this would often prove to be scant relief when the targets were key logistical facilities and famine and supply shortages broke out across the affected worlds. Occasionally, Urkrathos himself would anonymously pass intelligence to the Inquisition when his rivals grew too powerful or he caught wind of particularly heinous Chaos rituals. This was not all humanitarian, of course; inevitably the offending Chaos Lord would be assassinated or the scheming cult destroyed, and Urkrathos would sweep in and absorb the surviving men and remaining resources. As the millennia passed, so did Urkrathos’ dark legend grow. Imperial, Chaos, Ork, Necron, Dark Eldar, it did not matter; when their fleets opposed him, he smashed them all without hesitation or mercy. For his victories in the Black Crusades, Lady Malys named Urkrathos the Fleetmaster of Chaos, a title that he neither requested nor acknowledged. In the infamous Battle of the Nyang Moon, Urkrathos stalemated and drove back the main fleet of the renowned Warmaster Solon, protégé and successor of Macharius, during the aftermath of the Third Macharian Crusade. Faced with an Imperial force that outnumbered him 10 to 1, Urkrathos utilized the moon, a thick asteroid field, and favorable Warp currents to restrict his enemy’s movements and neutralize the advantage of numbers. Solon found that his tactical acumen was outshined by the Chaos Lord’s planning and brilliance, and the Imperial fleet’s advance was blunted and turned back. However, Solon was ever the strategic thinker and well aware of his advantage in numbers, so as Urkrathos’ fleet was mired in battle a second Imperial fleet bypassed them and landed invasions on several key Chaos worlds. Urkrathos finally met his end during the 10th Black Crusade, ironically at the end of a battle as his fleet hunted down the fleeing survivors of an Imperial battle group. In the confusion and discord of battle, the Testudo had not detected a stealthed Inquisition corvette as it pulled up into the mighty battleship’s shadow, and when Urkrathos ordered power diverted from the shields to engines and weapons for additional power to shoot down the stragglers, there was a sudden flash of light on the bridge. Several squads of elite Grey Knight paladins materialized with a sharp crack and gust of ozone, along with a contingent of White Scars First Company veterans led by the Master of the Hunt, Kantak Khan. In the brief, frenzied melee that followed, Urkrathos was cornered and finally slain when Kantak Khan thrust the hissing blade of his power sword Moonfang through the breastplate and twin hearts of his long fallen brother. Sensing the life force ebbing from the Chaos Lord’s body and that their mission was complete, the Grey Knights immediately teleported the Imperial forces back aboard the Inquisition ship, much to the dismay and outrage of the White Scars who had come to take Urkrathos’ head. Aboard the Testudo, Urkrathos’ final, gasped words to his remaining officers were to conceal his death from the men and to never give up their cause. With that, one of the greatest threats to the Imperium had fallen. The Chosen officers obeyed loyally, and for a time the Testudo operated as if nothing had happened, leading even the Inquisition to wonder if their mission had unexpectedly failed. It was not until the Testudo was boarded a second time and destroyed by a combined task force of Space Marines from five chapters did the Imperium finally confirm Urkrathos’ death, for the cunning Chaos Lord never would have fallen into such a trap. Captains around the Imperium breathed a sigh of relief, and for several millennia the Imperium thought one of its greatest foes had been vanquished. Yet in recent days, troubling whispers have been reported by the Inquisition’s spies and extracted from captured cultists. They say a new figure has been spotted in Lady Malys’ court, a winged daemon with charred black skin calling itself Urkrathos. Some say it is indeed the Fleetmaster of Chaos himself come again, returning as a Daemon Prince to command the ships of Chaos once more and to complete his sworn task to destroy the Imperium. Others, including several captured members of the Chosen, bitterly deny this, for they say the true Urkrathos would never have accepted daemonhood and slavery to the Ruinous Powers. As ever the truth is uncertain, but if the daemon is indeed Urkrathos then woe to captains of the Imperium who must face the beast, for once again they will know the cold certainty of defeat, and the crushing, unfettered power of Chaos. </div> </div> ==Daemons of Chaos== === Drach'nyen === The War of the Beast was truly a terrible affair. Daemons of every stripe were called forth by the Ruinous Powers to assault the Imperium from every conceivable corner at the same time, in numbers that had not been seen before or since. In the Segmentum Pacificus, the Interex, the interstellar power that had joined the Imperium as a semi-autonomous member state, came under attack by the daemon Drach’nyen. Although capable of warfare, the Interex preferred to focus on the virtues of the human condition. To them, Drach’nyen, a being born of the darkest aspects of human nature, was like their greatest nightmare come to life. However, at the same time, because Drach’nyen was born of the basest urges present in all of humanity, there was little the Interex could do to truly stop him. As a result, the defeat of Drach’nyen came from a rather unexpected source: the Kinebrach. As a Chaos-fearing race, the Kinebrach did not make Chaos-corrupted swords for no reason. As a race of weapon forgers and metalsmiths, the Kinebrach naturally saw making swords as a way to bind and deal with daemons. If a daemon is bound to a physical object, then it is tied to a single place and is not free to corrupt and torment mortals as it wishes. Once the daemon is forged into a sword, all one has to do is lock the sword away where no one can hear its temptations and make sure no one ever uses it. Being a daemon of fundamentally human origin, there was little that even the most powerful human inhabitants of the Imperium could do against Drach’nyen. The Kinebrach, however, were not human, and suffered from no such limitations. The leader of the Kinebrach and the greatest of their warsmiths, Ra-Ham-Be, challenged Drach’nyen to single combat on Mount Afonso, a forge built into the side of a volcano that the Kinebrach had considered their finest workshop. The daemon was truly a ferocious opponent, but eventually, Ra-Ham-Be beat Drach’nyen and forged him into the shape of a sword, at the cost of his own life. Unfortunately, in the chaos of the War of the Beast, the sword was lost and eventually ended up in the Warp, where it fell into the hands of Chaos. Despite being sealed in the form of a sword, Drach’nyen still has a mind of its own. If Drach’nyen believes the one wielding him to be worthy, he grants his power to his wielder to turn them into an unparalleled engine of close-combat destruction. However, if Drach’nyen believes his wielder to be weak or that someone else would prove to be a better master, he turns on his wielder, either stabbing them in the heat of combat or outright ripping the soul from their body. Many followers of the dark gods and even several daemons have learned this the hard way. Drach’nyen has acquired sort of a legendary reputation among the followers of Chaos, as it is said that the sword’s chosen wielder will be the one who finally brings the Imperium to its knees. After going through many wielders, in late M37 the sword fell into the hands of Lady Malys, the Daemon Queen. The fact that Lady Malys has come into ownership of the sword, and has remained in possession of it for several millenia, has convinced many of Malys’ claims that she is the true chosen one of the Ruinous Powers. === Ingethel the Ascended === <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">'''''The Witch of the Woods:''''' The people of Cadia have never had much love for Chaos. Although the Cadian Pillars may have kept the planet from being dragged into the Warp wholesale like the Eye, this did not stop daemons from temporarily manifesting on the planet just long enough to drag people off into the night. And while the Neverborn of Chaos may have had trouble remaining corporeal on the surface of Cadia, this did not stop hunting parties from the fallen Eldar Empire from raiding the planet for slaves, sacrifices, and entertainment. However, at the same time, there have always been those insane or broken enough to see the truth of Chaos, to see its awfulness and self-destructiveness, and pledge themselves to it body and soul nevertheless. Such is the case with Ingethel the Ascended. Ingethel was a hedge witch who lived on Cadia about the time the Imperium first visited the planet. She led a coven of witches who lived in the caverns beneath a great mountain in the Cadian wilderness, away from civilization but close enough to numerous villages to practice her dark craft. It is not clear why the dark gods allowed Ingethel and her coven to exist as they did. Normally a psyker such as Ingethel would have been carried off by daemons long before reaching adulthood, their souls a tastier than average treat. Perhaps Ingethel and her ilk were granted the protection of the Chaos Gods because of their whole-hearted devotion to and their wicked ways. Or perhaps, as the Imperium uplifted the planet and drove the monsters back into the dark, the dark gods realized they needed more forces “on the ground” so to speak to go to bat for them. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> Ingethel and her coven were well-known to the natives of Cadia. The people of villages surrounding Ingethel’s mountain had stories about her, about babies being stolen in the dead of night for ritual sacrifice and young men being seduced and spirited away by a seemingly nubile and doe-eyed maiden for nefarious purposes. To the Imperium, who had come to teach the Cadians one did not have to hide from those lurking in the dark, such a thing was unacceptable. At the same token, Ingethel and her coven considered the idea that one did not have to fear the dark gods and their servants as blasphemous, and to suggest otherwise was a declaration of war. Ingethel and her coven fought a sorcerous guerrilla war against the imperialistic efforts of the Imperium, spreading terror and cursing key individuals with hexes and spells. However, despite their dark powers, Ingethel and her coven were very mortal, and they did not have the numbers to directly fight the people of Cadia, let alone the Imperial military. Eventually Ingethel’s coven was whittled down until only she remained, and her refuge had shrunk until it consisted of her mountain, the nearby forests, and little else. Smelling weakness, the Imperium dispatched a strike force to Ingethel’s mountain consisting of twenty Word Bearers as well as supporting elements of the Imperial Army. They surrounded the mountain before entering the vast caverns at its base, determined to end the threat of Ingethel once and for all. This proved to be a mistake, as Ingethel collapsed the pillars of her cavern home on top of them, burying them all inside and crushing them to death. Ingethel used their deaths as fuel for an ascension ritual to daemonhood, ritually disemboweling herself to ascend into a daemon princess of Slaanesh. Being impressed by a mere mortal resulting in the deaths of twenty Space Marines and the better part of an army, Slaanesh turned Ingethel into a four-armed creature seemingly part snake, shark, and worm, her face grotesque with a snakelike jaw filled with shark’s teeth and one bulging and one sunken eye and her body below the waist replaced with that of a great polychaete with rippling vermicular, moist, and translucent flesh covered in orange, hair-like setae and serpentine belly scutes. Ingethel had always been wretched, now she merely looked on the outside what she always been on the inside. In the long term, Ingethel’s trap did little to halt the advance of the Imperium across Cadia, but it did put the fear of Chaos back into the natives of Cadia, which was the Ruinous Powers’ intention all along. Although Ingethel is nominally a Slaaneshi daemon, She Who Thirsts exerts relatively little influence over Ingethel’s soul. Instead, Slaanesh has all but relinquished their claim over Ingethel in exchange for Ingethel acting as an emissary between the four gods. Although normally quite possessive, even Slaanesh sees the benefits of having a neutral messenger who can be trusted to deliver messages between the gods and important mortals without being shot on sight (all in the name of advancing their own agendas, of course). Ingethel’s pursuits when not acting on behalf of the Dark Gods are varied, ranging from starting stories of monsters on worlds surrounding the Eye to creating her own facsimile of old Cadia (Cadia how it “should be”) in her personal demesne within the Eye of Terror. Sometimes she even likes to take a shape similar to her old form, reveling in how easily mortals fall for her innocent façade before showing them her true face. However, she always seems to be drawn back to Cadia to haunt the battlefield during one of the Black Crusades, seeking revenge on the descendants of those who shunned her in life. Demons have a tendency to be repetitive and predictable in their habits. She is the unliving reminder that while the Cadians may strive to forget their past, their past refuses to forget them. </div> </div> ==Other Followers of Chaos== ===Water Spider (Por'El Mal'caor)=== <div class="toccolours mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" style="100%">''''' The Web-Weaver: ''''' It is a poorly known fact, even among members of the Tau Empire, that members of the Water Caste act as spies and saboteurs in addition to merchants and diplomats. Much of espionage is simply overhearing the right detail at the right time, as opposed to more flashy actions inspired by too many holovids about the Alpha Legion and Inquisition. Another poorly known fact about the Tau is their relationship with the Warp. The Tau are prideful in the fact that few of their number have ever falled to Chaos. In contrast, temptation by Chaos seems rife amongst human societies, and the legions of Crone Eldar that infest the Eye of Terror barely need elaboration. Every race, ranging from the Kinebrach to the Kroot, can count members of their own among the fallen (with the possible exception of the Watcher in the Dark, and that's more because any Chaos sympathizer among the close-knit, long-lived species would be hunted down and killed on sight). Of course, that includes the Tau. Warp resistant does not mean Warp immune. Corrupted Tau are not unthinkable, they are just extraordinarily rare. <div class="mw-collapsible-content"> Por’mal’caor, better known as Water Spider, was a Por’El at approximately the time of the Tau Schism (M39). As she rose through the ranks, she earned the name Water Spider for her ability to ensnare her victims in her webs of deceit and make them dance like puppets on strings. Water Spider was particularly active in the days of the Schism, using her network of spies to root out separatists and silence dissenters, in the name of the Tau’va, of course. Both Shadowsun and Farsight knew of Water Spider, and indeed Farsight was concerned that Water Spider was the type of person the Ethereal council would silence opposition (which kind of came true). However, in contrast to most other members of the Water Caste, who understood that they were peacemakers and traders first and spies second, Water Spider reveled in the darker side of her craft. It was this taste for deception that caused her fall. Water Spider's fall came when she came into the possession of a spider-shaped pendant discovered by Tau xenoarchaeologists on a newly-colonized Sept World. Originally chosen for sentimental purposes, Water Spider noticed the odd properties of the pendent when she survived two assassination attempts through circumstances that could not be attributed to chance alone. When the Tau Schism broke out and Tau were no longer certain if they could trust their friends and neighbors, Water Spider began wearing the pendant at all times, trusting in it and only it to protect her. And it worked, separatist assassin after assassin sent after Water Spider ended up failing or dying (sometimes both) through increasingly unlikely circumstances. Water Spider believed the pendant somehow brought her good fortune. A "lucky charm", in human terms. However, at this time the Tau were still relatively naive about Chaos, knowing about it but lacking access to the vast libraries accumulated by the rest of the galaxy. Anyone well versed in daemonology elsewhere would have been able to recognize the pendant for what it really was, a Chaos artifact of Tzeentch. The Tau may have been somewhat numb to the Warp and its effects, but being exposed to a heavily tainted Chaos artifact, Rotaa after Rotaa and Tau'cyr after Tau'cyr, would have caused corruption and mutation in even a grox. If it were merely radioactive Water Spider would have been lucky to escape with severe cancer. The pendant being an artifact of Tzeentch, of course, the consequences were far worse. As with all followers of the trickster god, Water Spider’s body has gone through numerous mutations since pledging themselves to Tzeentch. In a sick joke by the Lord of Mutation themself, Water Spider’s body has changed to resemble her namesake, her hand and feet changed into cruel talons and four chitinous limbs bursting from her back. Her digestive system has also atrophied, leaving her unable to live off of normal sustenance. Instead, Water Spider feeds of the literal feelings of betrayal induced by her plots, liberally supplemented with the blood of her enemies. Water Spider exists today in a lair of her own making, an outpocket of reality in the side of the Warp. From her lair invisible threads connect her to all of her agents on a myriad of distant worlds, whether human, Eldar, or Tau, fomenting dissent and turning brother against brother. Many of her catspaws, particularly Tau, are not even aware that they are being manipulated, believing they doing the work of the Tau’va while bringing doom to their countrymen. The exception are her inner circle, who fell with her when she fell into the embrace of the Changer of Ways, though it is debatable whether they are truly corrupted or brainwashed into extensions of her will. Even the forces of the other Chaos Gods are not immune to her workings when Tzeentch calls for her service. Yet for all Tzeentch’s blessings, Water Spider is not one for direct combat. Although she has mutated to the point where she could physically overpower a human, Space Marines, Sisters, Battlesuits, and even Eldar could make short work of her. She has few Warp-influenced powers beyond what her mutations give her. Therefore she prefers to work at a distance, striking down her foes without even being on the same planet as them. </div> </div>
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