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Found 1 result

  1. Hey all! So just a little background info about my warband: The idea came out of 6th Edition Chaos Codex that briefly mentioned those warriors who fail Abaddon, or are mauled in battle: "The Oath-Broken are a special formation of the Black Legion comprised of those Chaos Space Marines who have failed in the service of the Legion's master, Abaddon the Despoiler. Those that dare betray the Warmaster of Chaos seldom live long enough to regret their mistake, and those who do quickly come to regret their folly bitterly as their bodies and souls are subjected to the most abject of agonies. The Oath-Broken are no true traitors to Abaddon, but merely those who failed in their assigned tasks, or got badly mauled on the battlefield and crippled by horrendous wounds. Failures and cripples invariably lose the fickle attention of their mortal and immortal masters alike, and without the blessings of the Powers of the Warp to mend their limbs or knit their broken bodies together with mutations, the Oath-Broken are forced to fashion their own crude replacements: blades sutured to stumps, xenos appendages crudely grafted into empty sockets and ragged armour patched with whatever material the Eye of Terror deems to provide. And yet, woe to the fool who underestimates these dregs of the Black Legion, for an Oath-Broken's desire to again bask in the glories that only Chaos can provide is only equal to his hatred of any who still do." http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Oath-Broken,_The I was fascinated with the backstory of what happens to traitors when the Dark Gods turn their back on their own followers. So I decided to model up a few squads and build a few stories around a motley band of scavengers and killers. After the Photobucket screw job, I thought rather than try to replace every single photo, I'd start over here and tie it to my ongoing participation in the GILGAMESH CAMPAIGN. All hobbyist are welcome to join me conquering the planet for Chaos! (or if you are an imperial scum... i guess you could fight against me, too!) Feel free to PM me about how to join. It is easy and fun. Here is the current campaign Map now. Also, IF YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE, PLEASE CONSIDER FOLLOWING THE TOPIC AND LEAVING A COMMENT. IT REALLY HELPS KEEP ME MOTIVATED!!! THANKS! THE OATH-BROKEN Prologue Lord Kraven stared into the vast endlessness of the void from the Bridge of the Battle Barge The Unforgiven. He saw Millions upon millions of planets ripe for plunder to make a worthy sacrifice to the Dark Gods. Nothing had been the same since his disgrace at the hands of the Emperor's Children. How long had it been? Ten Millennia, more? Time had no meaning in the Eye. As his mind drifted on thoughts of vengeance, his vox-unit signaled. "Lord, my divination is complete." Caradoch's voice resembled more of a reptilian hiss than the Genetically modified warrior he had once been. "The Gods have spoken. Gilgamesh must be bathed awash in blood." Finally, was this the redemption he had long seeked? Was it another cruel trick of the Gods to keep him off the eight-fold path forever? It didn't matter. Lord Kraven turned to his first command. "Mark a new heading to the Gilgamesh System. We prepare for war!" LORD KRAVEN “The Dark Gods of Chaos do not care about us. We are simply tools in their endless fight, just as we once served as simple tools in The Emperor’s blind ambitions for Apotheosis. The only difference from now and ten millennia ago, is the veil has been lifted from my eyes. Betrayed by the Corspe God of Terra, and now, discarded from use by the Master’s we turned to, I serve only myself. I will make them pay until I have my status restored. Planets will burn and blood will be spilt until my brothers are avenged." -Lord Kraven’s Canticle of Hate Chapter 1 Verse 1 CARADOCH Caradoch is Lord Kraven's foremost advisor. Although he still maintains a great deal of his warp-born powers, he still strives for the day to return to his former position of power within the Legion. Deep inside the Heavy Battleship Eternal Hunger… Brother Quaress stood guard outside Caradoc’s personal quarters, a bolter clasped in his massive hands. The gold trim on his black ceramite power armor reflected the braziers’ light that lined the corridor’s walls. Two servitor gun drones- amalgamations of corrupted flesh and metal flanked him, their skin twisted and gray where it fused with their heavy bolters hardwired where arms should be. “Lord Caradoc approaches,” they said in unison, flat, robotic voices. The servitors kneeled clumsily and lowered their heads in deference. Quaress detected nothing. His genetically enhanced vision was superior to those lesser beings, and the retinal display in his tactical helm scanned the long hallway in both infra-red and ultra-violet frequencies. The hall was completely empty. “You drones need to be recalibrated. I don’t see…” Quaress did not get a chance to finish his sentence before the braziers lining either side of the corridor flared to life and a cloaked figure in power armor appeared from the shadows. Quaress instinctively raised his bolter. “Rest easy, Brother Quaress.” Caradoc’s voice washed over him like a sweet melody and he lowered his bolter almost as if in a trance. Caradoc shared the same pattern of power armor and a rich embroidered robe flowed from his shoulders to the floor. He carried a wicked power glaive that burned with a blue warpfire along its daemon steel blade. Caradoc’s right hand had begun to harden and transform over the years so that now it resembled more of a chittonous anvil of volcanic rock. One of many blessings from the Dark Masters. “That was quite the entrance,” Quaress said stowing his bolter. “Forgive the theatrics Brother.” Caradoc’s face was concealed by a hood and a vale of golden chainmail. Quaress felt sure that Caradoc was smiling behind it. He was smart enough to know the sorcerer was displaying just a minor demonstration of his many powers. “And what of my guest?” “The prisoner is prepared as you requested. He awaits… your audience.” Brother Quaress wasn’t exactly sure what fate awaited the Loyalist they had captured on the surface of Thraxian IV, but he knew from eons of combat it would not turn out to be pleasant. “Excellent work Brother Quaress. What we are about to embark upon will ensure our places in the Canticles of Hate. This Astartes warrior is but the first step.” “Death to the False Emperor!” Quaress thumped his fist to his chest. “Only if he should be so lucky.” Caradoc waved his free hand at the door and it swung open into the chamber behind Quaress. “A final word of warning brother.” “I fear nothing, Caradoc,” Quaress said. “Your bravery is commendable and serves Lord Kraven well. Just remember no matter what you hear, no matter what the dark voices whisper or promise, do not enter my chamber until I return to you. I would hate for you to suffer… like poor Brother Castus.” Brother Castus had been particularly ambitious in courting the favor of the dark Gods and the Gods listened generously heaping powers upon him until he devolved into a hideous spawn, stark raving mad and mutated beyond recognition. Unleashed upon the populace of Thraxian IV, the creature had scurried off into the wilderness never to be seen again. After ten-thousand years of endless war, Qauress knew there were worst fates than death.
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