Why surrender to the chaos gods

[refuse]

<<< LAP yours are amazing. I wish I could spell as well as you. Along with the better structure your has. That is my curse for writing code all day. I write in fragments.

 

Of course the unconnected thoughts, and streams of awareness seem to fit with a child of Slaanesh!

 

I agree, everyone should add their thoughts. Other followers of slaanesh need to expunge on their beliefs.

 

We already have several Khorne point of views (excellent) and several Night Lords (again excellent) and a couple of Slaanesh and Tzeentch. And lest we forget (and they chastise us) Word Bearers.

 

So get out your imagination and tell us your views on how you see Chaos. We get to do this as we have no Inquisition to beat us with sticks (though, we might like that!)

 

So go to town. And if you are unaligned, or fallen (not even chaos undivided) tell us how your warband works.

 

Come now children of the beast, be strong and shout at the Emperor! (bad motely crue quote! Shout at the Devil)

[LAP]

It seems that Slaaneshi speakers are much more potent than their fighters! Seriously, Refuse is a tough nut to crack:

 

To the Devotees of Pleasure:

 

Now you dare to proclaim that I am deluded. Have you strayed so far down the path of pleasure that your senses of judgement have been dulled? You may not desire death yet, but there will come a time when you shall reach a point when you become like the veteran noise marines, your once quick senses dulled and only the most extreme and harmful pleasures able to stir them. You may believe that I have not yet treaded far enough along the path to damnation, but I know the ideals of my own god truly enough.

 

The taking of skulls in the name of the Blood God is indeed just. Every skull I send to the lord of murder is taken in the ever-lasting slaughter. Like an avatar of death I take skulls uncomprimisingly from either side. Though all are accepted, it is the skull of a warrior that brings the greatest reward, and the only favour to cloud my judgement is the hate of the enemies of my lord.

 

Whether my patron holds illusions over my sight or deludes my mind, it is clear that it is does not hold true only on my part. Your descent into depravity on the path of your lord has led you to believe yourself in control of your actions, in control of your pleasures. Yet every step you take upon the road to chaos is a step blindly taken into the arms of your lord. The further down the path, the greater the hold on you by She Who Thirsts. How can one who has such experience believe himself in control when his life hangs in the delicate grip of She Who Thirsts like a thread?

 

Perhaps your proclamation that you are not deluded is only a sign that you do not know it. If this is true, then perhaps it is destiny that every follower of chaos is truly deluded.

 

You speak of desires as actions to be fulfilled and that you have no such selfish desires. Your service is to share the gift of pleasure. Yet a follower of Khorne has no such desires, only service. The gift I bring is death, and I shall spread it to all around, every action I take is part of his greater plan, whereas the devotees of Slaanesh seek primarily for themselves. If this is not true, then what lures young followers to his path?

 

Do not call us blind. You speak wise in some ways, for it is true that the abhorration that you see when you look upon me is the same as that I feel when I look upon you. Yet my eyes are not blind nor clouded by rage, and I am able to perceive what you may think I cannot.

 

It seems that each follower believes themselves above others, greater than each other in their ability to perceive what is true. But they are all decieved, their fates weaved haplessly by the whims of the chaos powers. For that is the nature of chaos.

 

Perhaps, our paths to damnation shall cross once more. I much desire to test the delicate prowness of your blade against the honest force of my axe. Perhaps there will come a time when the slave of Slaanesh and servant of Khorne meet in battle once again.

 

 

** out of character from now on **

 

I'm out of ideas....my last long post was much better...Refuse, you may have won, but not without a fight.

Now to pick on the Iron Warriors :) .

[LAP]

I hate it when this happens, whenever I type long posts online someone else posts something relevant to me! Refuse, your points in the last post where extremely hard to follow up, and a reply was very hard to write up. The points raised by your last post seemed quite final in a way (the mirror thing) and even though I tried to end my last post in a suitable way it was not up to standard.

 

I think this was a great topic to start (even though I had my doubts at first). Thanks for the compliments, hey I am only 13. I've already complimented yours several times though, don't want a follower of Slaanesh to become too decadent :) .

 

Time to branch out into insulting, er.... debating with, other legions. Next up, the bane of any Khorne army, the Iron Warriors!!!

[refuse]

Perhaps, our paths to damnation shall cross once more. I much desire to test the delicate prowness of your blade against the honest force of my axe. Perhaps there will come a time when the slave of Slaanesh and servant of Khorne meet in battle once again.

Perhaps on one thing we do agree. My senses have stirred me to test my mettle, to dance along the razor against a warrior such as you.

 

Perhaps on some field littered with the refuse of the emperor's dogs for as far as our eyes can see. We will meet.

 

But know this, fight with all your skill and wit, for I will not bless you with the death you would seek. Yours shall be an end, most fitting to a foe of your caliber!

[Vilicate]

Those who tread the path of Khorne dare to test the mettle of the Iron Warriors? Not so eloquent are we with words, but the thunder of our guns attest for the strength of our legion. Not even the strongest of cidadels and stand under the strength of our bombardment, the hail of death and fire that spits forth from our emplacements. If it were not for us, World Eater, then you would have never tasted the blood of the defenders of Terra. Within our legion, we have those who tread the path of the Blood God. However, they are nothing but meat used for clearing the defenders from the walls, and charging mindlessly through the breaches, to provent the death of more worthy battle brothers. I feel pitty for one who cannot appreciate the siern song of a thousand bolters, or the lovely cough of death that spews forth from the barrel of a Vindator. The whirling, grinding sound of a chainaxe is all that brings joy to your heart anymore, and you are not worthy of my attention or my shells.

 

And you, follower of Slaanesh, where were you during the siege of Terra? Ah yes, I remember now, amusing yourself with the populace of Terra, unfit to storm the walls, unfit to do anything more than satisfy yourself with slaugtering foes of your worth. Stranger still, your still call yourselves the Emperor's Children. Strange how you still cling to the life that you once led, are you not beyond the corpse king's rule? You are unfit you call yourselves Marines, let alone Children of the Corpse King, whose real children are your betters. It is said that we once were held under the embrace of your weakling god. This disgusts us, that we would even be assiociated with such depravity and waton lusts. We are Iron, within and without! We need not these human emotions, for they make us weak. Steel is strong, stronger than the strongest human urge, and is thus why we encase ourselves in it, to protect ourselves from falling into a pit which we cannot climb out of, the loss of our soul.

 

Iron Within, Iron Without!

[LAP]

Perhaps on one thing we do agree. My sense have stirred to test my mettle, to dance along the razor against a warrior such as you.

 

Perhaps on some field littered with the refuse of the emperor's dogs for as far as our eyes can see. We will meet.

 

But know this, fight with all your skill and wit, for I will not bless you with the death you would seek. Yours shall be an end, most fitting to a foe of your caliber!

And when me meet, whether it is your end or mine, the many wounds scored by my glaive will be a pleasure to you untold!

[refuse]

Perhaps on one thing we do agree. My sense have stirred to test my mettle, to dance along the razor against a warrior such as you.

 

Perhaps on some field littered with the refuse of the emperor's dogs for as far as our eyes can see. We will meet.

 

But know this, fight with all your skill and wit, for I will not bless you with the death you would seek. Yours shall be an end, most fitting to a foe of your caliber!

And when me meet, whether it is your end or mine, the many wounds scored by my glaive will be a pleasure to you untold!

I look forward to that meeting. I shall even name my scars. :)

[JeffJedi]

Followers of Khorne, I need your rage...

 

Servents of Slannesh, you desire as we do...

 

Sorcerers ofTzeench, what power we will claim togeter...

 

Carriers of Nurgle, death to our enemies...

 

Warriors of Iron, we will smash their defences...

 

Lords of the Night, unleash terror with us...

 

Alpha Legion, we will destroy the hated Imperium...

 

Bearers, spread the Word with us...

 

The BLACK LEGION calls for you all to join with us! Together we will crush the false Emeperor! Let the Galaxy Burn!!! For the Gods or for yourselves! Death to the Imperium!!!

[Thug]

Well I must say, this is one of the BEST posts I have EVER read.

The talent here is unbelievable guys it has been a pleasure

:) to read.

LAP, you say you are only 13..............wow man. I'm sure you could use this in some English Language assignment to get yourself some top grades here mate.

If I was your tutor, I would be very impressed.

[Brother Amarel]

I second what Thug said, this is a great thread, I'm really enjoying it :). All of the talent on display is superb btw, don't put yourselves down I've loved every single post.

 

Amarel.

[refuse]

To thoses who seek to escape through Iron.

 

Ah, again those who hide in shells of iron speak.

 

Know this once fellow. You speak as if Iron is stronger then will. But the will of man forged that iron. The will of man created that iron, and through the desire of man that iron take form. Iron is a tool of man, created by man to work for man. So you claim your iron to be stronger, better. I claim it to be as weak as fear, as brittle as envy, and as useful as sloth.

 

You replace the flesh with iron, as your flesh is weak. Ah, what an irony that the flesh controls the iron. Your weakest link is your flesh, the will that drives the iron, the direction you take, the purpose of the iron. But as you state, it is weak. My flesh, and the flesh of others, is made strong through our belief. Know this the power behind my iron is my flesh. My flesh gives my iron purpose. The iron is the weakest link.

 

And know this, while you assaulted the Imperial palace with all your skill, we chose not to watch you battle the Sons of Dorn, the thorn that rakes you. We choose our own path then as now.

 

And my semi-mechanical friend, about names. Yours is as old as the ages. Given to you by the same force that named us. Ours is the thorn in their side, the glowing orb in the night that reminds them by the name alone what we are. We are not ashamed as the Sons of Horus. We are proud of our actions, we bear the name with pride. Then as now we are the Chosen. Perfect in all aspects.

 

You ask how can this be? But of course, let me explain. We do not specialize, we do not bear labels. You can not say that we are anything, so therefore we are everything. Your Iron Warriors are the masters of Siege, but in combat that is not all. The World Eaters are masters of close combat, but in combat that is not all. The Death Guard are the anvil to strike the hammer against, but in combat that is not all. The Thousand sons are the hammer to drive the opponents, but in combat that is not all. The other legions with their stealth or cultists or prayers to the dark gods, but in combat that is not all. We are the sum of that. Our tactics are as flexible as our whims, our plans as hard to decifer as the path of a breeze. We are the whip, the sword, or the gun. We can be anything, everything, or nothing. Your plans are laid out before you act, ours are as undecipherable as the static that fills your vox. We are the martials of combat, the lords of subtle hints, and touches.

 

So know this, servent of iron. We are the human behind the metal, we are the flesh that shapes the metal, and we are the will that uses the metal, we are all that and more.

 

Finally my Iron brother, that which you fear, we rejoice in. That wich you replace, we master. When your iron is spent, and your flesh is put to the test, then you will understand why we are the Emperor's Children.

 

++Lord Commander Bowman

--Lord Commander of the 29th Emperor's Children Great Company

[refuse]

I think this was a great topic to start (even though I had my doubts at first). Thanks for the compliments, hey I am only 13. I've already complimented yours several times though, don't want a follower of Slaanesh to become too decadent :) .

My god man. I am, oh wait is it close to 3 times your age. Argh. :)

 

Your posts are great. I wish I could write as well, ok I am only 35 so not 3 whole times your age.

 

I look forward to your responses on the other legions!

 

And to the other legions, we need to hear from the Death Guard!

[LAP]

To the Heralds of Corruption (the followers of Nurgle):

 

It seems that we are tied together through intricate bonds weaved of the matter that is chaos itself. For the harbringers of disease and the harbringers of death seem to be linked, though at opposite ends of the spectrum. Understand this, while the Lord Khorne's gifts serve to strengthen us in his tasks, the gifts so readily bestowed upon Father Nurgle's children are more likely to bring suffering and debilitation.

 

How can anything be forged in the name of the plague lord, he who seeks only to break down and dissolve? Kingdoms, armies, warbands, why do you serve one who will bring decay to your organisation? Your order will not be broken swiftly like the seal broken by the blood god's promise, but it will decay, and your strength will be drained, until all around you is no more and you are unable to do anything but watch in despair, and what father Nurgle has wished has come true.

 

The disciples of Khorne bear gifts which strengthen us. Whether cruel weapons forged in the darkness, or a flaming rage that drives us against our enemies, they will all help in his service, as the blood god's service is of killing. We are to bring death to his enemies or in times death to each other, but not death to ourselves.

 

Yet the gifts you bear bring enough suffering to the paladins of Nurgle as they do benefit. What you blatantly invited at first you now reject, crying out to your father and lord, who is comforted by the sound of your despair. Whether hideous deformations, or repulsive contagions, many are useful in spreading the disease, yet if they lead to the death or debilitation of one of experience then it is a poor and useless waste. Not to grandfather nurgle though, who has enjoyed this spectacle of entertainment.

 

The daemons of Khorne symbolise strength, the daemons of Nurgle weakness. Their foul forms are pitiful and deserve only to be purged by the flame. Yet it is ironic that their very weakness is why they are prized.

 

Now we come to the Death Guard, the most ancient followers of Nurgle. They may share the same weaknesses as newer and hastier recruits, yet they bear the many gifts that our bestowed upon them. Yet you bear them as you no longer exist as you once did. All sense of honour and self-pride has been lost in a sea of morbidity, and you have reached the ideal of your god. You are no longer human, but are as animated as those cast down by the rubric. You are hosts, hives of disease and pestilence, only to be used and then wasted.

 

Not even then will your patron give you release, for you will find yourself reborn into his ever-lasting service in a form repulsive and flawed, and the flesh that once held strong in your service of the Emperor will now be the ideal of weakness.

 

It is strange that what remains of the two opposing legions has great similarities. The thousand sons are animated by sorcery, and the plague marines are animated by their patron, not by their self-will, for their being no longer exists. Whilst the soul of the Thousand Sons was stolen from them, the plague marines gladly gave it up in the pointless service of a mad god. Their sole service is to host and spread disease. Even the followers of Khorne and Slaanesh have greater purpose than that.

 

You are weak, flawed. Your entire existence is to serve to the whim of a foul god who thinks nothing of his followers' suffering. Even the playthings of Slaanesh are prized more highly. Your sole service is to spread your weakness, to recruit new followers to become as vulnerable as you.

 

To serve the Death Guard. A fitting sentence for those who forsake all honour, all hope, all strength.

 

For those who give up all of their sense of self-being, to spread the weakness of a mad god.

[LAP]

To the Followers of the Machine (the Iron Warriors):

 

The paranoid and weak of flesh. Your corruption of the flesh is less evident than that of the disciples of Nurgle, yet it is obvious in different ways. You place your trust in the machine. Fools, flesh is what holds power of the machine, and weakness of flesh will result in weakness in all other forms of power. Honest human flesh is what forges the machine in the darkness of the manifactorium, it is what wields it in the midst of battle. The machine is nothing without the hand of man, and being so long in its service you should know this.

 

The machine cannot spawn itself. If it is destroyed it cannot be re-built, if it is damaged it cannot fix itself. Flesh created the machine and flesh is what can destroy it. Only weakness will lead to failure.

 

You claim iron to be stronger than flesh. That is if your minds percieve no more than the physical sense. It is true that the steel of my blade with slash and sever flesh, but it is rendered useless without the hand of flesh to use it. The same is true for the machine, it is wielded by flesh and the weakness of flesh shall betray it, and at that time your fear will be at its greatest as your only ally betrays you.

 

It is now that we begin to understand your paranoia. You hide away in citadels and fortresses. Whole worlds are converted into blackened mazes of steel and razor wire, all for the fear of the failure in the machine. You have hid behind the machine for long enough, perhaps you no longer trust the weapons you wield.

 

Your machines and your weapons have more honour than you, for they do not run when we come in the name of Khorne. The Machine is weak, for it can be manipulated by man, man who may so often be weak of flesh.

 

We shall drive the machine of war with the sword and the spear and the brazen fist of the berzerker. You proclaim that the World Eaters do not dare to charge the strongholds of the paranoid. Did we fear at the siege of the Emperor's palace? Did we hold back as their guns wreaked carnage among our ranks? No, for we have the strength of flesh along with the strength of mind to see the weakness of the machine. You think that the machine is the only ally which will not betray you, all the greater your fear will be when it begins to fail.

 

The followers of Khorne may seem ignorant and brutish in your eyes, yet in the same way you seem inane and weak in ours. We have the honour and strength to clash against the adamantium walls, whether you see this as madness or not. It is the true nature of chaos that everything is seen as something different in the beholder's eye.

 

But trust to this, you have seen the defences of your enemies fall, and the same shall come to you. The flesh drives the machine, and so the weakness is shared.

 

I shall savour the momment when your trusted machine fails you, and as you catch a last glimpse of the steel of my blade as it crosses your throat you will realize that you are not Iron within Iron without.

 

Only your weakness is shared.

[The Angelus Sanctus]

This thread is going very very well...

 

Heh, ill TRY and put some thoughts in... (again) but they def wont compare to Refuse...

 

:) Did someone say they want an easy to pick on Slaanesh Follower?!?!!? Why i outta pull out my Sword and challenge you to a duel!!! :)

 

If my Prince(ss) desires to fight in his name here, than i shall indeed...

 

Although

 

-- To the Followers of Abaddon

 

I care not for your Lord's summon... Unless he agrees to my demands... your Legion worries me.. After the great failure of your Primarch to take over a single Empire, i question the concept of following Abaddon, to a possible similar fate. Although he does intend to lead us to victory, i am uncertain as to whether it be a good call in judgement to follow him. His plan to call upon all the Legions to his command, well, as much as it may be for a common goal, i will not stand besides those barbaric warriors of Khorne, thier limited vocabulary of burn, maim and kill disturb me and their sole purpose for the spilling of blood... No grace what so ever..

Do whatever you will, but unless your Lord can agree to my proposal, my warriors will not help you....

[ScuzzleButt]

I think originally, most of the chaos legions saw chaos as a means to an end, or as a excuse. For example, the Thousand Sons saw it as a way to master the ways of the psychic, but then consumed them and they moved to the use of sorcery. For the world eaters, it gave them a reason to be so blood thirsty. I think the one exception is the Word Bearers, who had faith, but not true faith in what they were worshipping. They worshipped it because they were told to. I think for the Word Bearers, they just need something to be able to put their faith behind, and seeing the imperium rejected them, chaos was the next easiest thing.

 

and in Character

 

You would do well not to follow the summons of the servants of Abaddon. His "crusades" will do nothing more than bring the wrath of the imperium upon us. An amusing contest to watch, but the time is not ripe. His victory's he may muster will not be held long, swept away by the weight of the pathetic Imperium. I will not stand in such a fool hardy force, and would advise you do not either, though your loss would not grieve me.

[turelhim vampire]

the lords of chaos laugh at you all.

 

this is why you all could not conquer terra so very long ago, and you only reached it because you had suprise on your side. look at you, pitifully squabling amongst yourselves. is it really any wonder that no black crusade has ever gotten as far as you all did the very first time?

 

you sicken me. you would rather fight amongst yourselves than to destroy the weakling imperium and cast down the Corpse Lord of the human race.

 

you could all do so much better, but you are all to busy contenting yourselves with the destruction of your rivals, your brothers in arms.

 

i have no place for this kind of infighting in my forces, only integrity and purpose. that is why i have risen to the level that i have attained in so short a time. the gaze of Abaddon rests upon me, of this their can be no doubt.

 

i have been hunted by the ordo malleus, and have defeated their Grey Knights throughout two campaigns, have crushed the spirit stones of Iyandan in my Iron Fist, destroyed Space Marine companies through sheer annoyance. Imperial Guard regiments, Titan Legions and Navy Fleets have died at my hands, and worlds have burned at my very whim.

 

NEVER speak to me of what i have been taught, that my conquest is directionless. i have more direction than any of you, and i, at least, choose which direction i am headed. unlike you poor, souless fools.

 

i am blind to nothing that i wish to see. i am not so focused as to wish nothing but the favour of some depraved entity, some false-god.

 

i am my own drive, my own purpose. i do what i do for ME, and me alone. and that, i can assure you, will never change.

 

+++Turel the Defiler, Lord of the Iron Fists+++

[Chaplain Lazarus]

Hmm, it's getting realy hard to come up with something good for me lately. Seems like i've shot all my ammo.

 

LAP, you're getting realy good at this. I highly enjoyed your last two posts, i don't think that i would have written something like this when i was 13.

 

++ So, getting back into character: ++

 

To the Lord speaking for the Black Legion:

 

There you stand amidst us, raising your squeaky voice in pleas for help. Aren't you and your Legion capable of achieving your goals without aid of others?

 

You stand in the shadow of your beloved Warmaster, you are filled with so much shame about your defeat at Terra that Abbadon even had to change the Legion's name to rekindle the fadeing flame that was your thirst for vengeance, your spirit for war.

 

That is why you search the help of the other Legions, because you are affraid that once again you will face defeat at the hands of foe far superioir to your skills of combat.

 

You can't reach the callous Night Lords in matters of skill of secrecy or cunning. You can't compare yourselves to the utter ferociousness of the dreaded World Eaters, blinded as they are. You can't match your firepower of the Iron Warriors, hiding themselves behind bigger and even bigger guns so that they don't have to engage the enemy personaly. You don't fight with as much joy and glee as the abhored Emperor's Children, entangled into servitude and pleasure as they are.

Weak as these other Legions all are, they stay true to their path, to their name. Given even the slightest chance your men will let themselves get possesed by the demons of the Immaterium so they could gain true strength, at least in their clouded minds. What strnegth is there in giving in to another being taking over? Your men are frail and weak compared to your former greatness. Without the Warmaster as your guide you are struggling through the galaxy in search for a reason to go on, for a new powerful leader to show you the way. Lately this has been Abbadon, but he will as surely fail as horus did himself.

 

When this happens you will notice a tall figure clad in midnight blue armor, standing laughing in the shadows while watching your down-fall.

 

You need us, not we need you.

 

Just imagine how it would be on the battlefield with our different Legions, all our different believes:

The World Eaters would charge blindly into close combat, seeking to gain more skulls for the God of Murder. While they charge the Iron Warriors would be relentlessly shelling the enemy. And we all know that some of these high-explosive shells will fall short because some Captain of the Warriors has an unsesttled argument with the World Eaters.

 

The Alpha Legion will nowhere be seen, they've sent some Cultist scum and now hope to be left alone, to fearful to engage the enemy themselves.

 

The Thousand Sons will be using trickery and magic so that it seems that they helped you a lot, but in the end you will only pay the price when their sorcery fails and you will have to deal with the creatures of the Empyrean.

 

The Emperor's Children and the Word Bearers will both be as usefull as a bolt pistol without a loaded clip of shells. The Children will stroll around in orgiastic pleasures and the Word Bearers will be to much consumed with praying and chanting.

 

Standing amidst this chaotic battlefield will be the lonely form of Black Legion Commander, seeing his dreams shattered and the bubbles of his dreams evaporate like a human at the business-end of a las-cannon.

 

If i would be able to do so, i would pity you.

 

Lord Commander Exosus, Night Lords Legion

[JeffJedi]

Horus made you.

Under his eye, in his claws he twisted you, molded you, made you what you are. Without him you would be dead 10,000 years before and your kind would be lapdogs at the feet of a rotted corpse. Gnawing at the scraps they toss you.

 

You compair us to the other Legions? No we are not like them, we have what you cannot understand, we have a drive, only we have the will to lead. To think that I would have offered you a chance to join us. I should sooner called on the Blood Angels or Ultra Marines. You too will be swept aside. Our Terminators will crush your bones, our Possessed with eat your flesh. Your names will be forgotten.

The Sons of Horus will unmake you.

[The Angelus Sanctus]

-- To the Night Lords

 

How Dare you insult us like that... the Followers of Slaanesh have more use than your flying bat pansy warriors... with wings like those on your heads, no wonder everyone speaks of the Night Lords being utter Air Heads...

 

Our role on the battle field is not just for orgasmic pleasures, it is for so much more. Unlike our traitorous brothers, we attack with grace and skill, unlike the warrios of Khorne, charing head strong into battle, no wonder they die before half thier army can get to their foes front lines. What will a pathetic pistol do compared to the elegant sonic blaster... None the less, we enjoy our kills, we make sure we extract any and every sensation we can from the kill, but in the end, it is still done...

 

The Word Bearers i can see being as useful as an unloaded bolt pistol, their persistant chanting which goes back to the days before the heresy... Why the Emperor wasted time on such a legion even i'll fail to understand.. All they do is erect stupid buildings, chant the day and night away and send daemons to do their work.. One day Slaanesh will make the Word Bearers pay for what they do to our daemons..

 

As for the 'mighty' *cough cough* black legion.. If you are so 'strong' why do you need OUR help to help you on YOUR crusades?? Perhaps your legion has been cursed by the same failing nature your Primarch possessed... If you really want to lead Chaos to victory, make sure its a battle you cant lose...

 

Horus made us? i spit at his name.. Perhaps me may have acted as a catalyst for where we are today, but he surely did not make us what we are.. For us of the Emperor's Children, our perfection would have brought us to damnation.. The Thousand Sons already sevured their fate to the changer of ways... We didnt need Horus at all... All he wanted was men to serve him and act as his meat shields. He cared not for us, he just wanted to get other legions to do HIS dirty work. If he truly was as great as he said, why would he have stayed on his battle barge to over see the battle. I consider that i sign of weakness.. All he did was cower behind his shielded battle barge watching the other legions do his own dirty work.. what a foul.. and even when he let his guard down, he still wasnt man enough to finish the job...

[LAP]

To the followers of the Angelus Sanctus-

 

Every graceful touch and twist of the blade is more than equalled in skill by the hacking blow of the axe. Our means may be different, yet we both deal in the same art; death. You are no more skilled than the lowest of my berzerkers, child of Slaanesh.

 

Our warriors may fall before we reach the enemy's battle lines for we do not fear death. We seek not the pleasures for ourselves like the slaves of Slaanesh, every berzerker is a single cell in the body of Khorne's followers, every action is made in his name and as part of his greater plan. We may fight with rage and anger, but also with pride and martial honour. We are not so cowardly that we hold back and fire weapons. Fools, even the weak flesh of the Iron Warriors can pull a trigger, yet it takes one experienced and battle-hardy to wield an axe of Khorne. That is why we gladly charge across the battlefield, if our enemies have not the honour to fight then we shall take the fight to them. They shall pay in blood for every bullet fired in cowardice.

 

What will a pathetic pistol do compared to the elegant sonic blaster? you ask. What will a mere blade do against a cruel axe? What will save you from yourself when you are inches away from the agonising pleasure of being speared upon my brazen glaive? What of your prized sonic blaster when the jaws of my axe are upon your neck? You have mastered the art of cowardice, we have mastered the art of combat.

 

Understand that we are the lost and the damned, and none are greater than the others. Our means are different and our opinions varied, as our minds as shaped by our patron gods. You are no better than the Sons of Horus who began the heresy. You are no better than those who began your redemption. It would be heresy to even suggest it.

[refuse]

Horus made you.

Under his eye, in his claws he twisted you, molded you, made you what you are. Without him you would be dead 10,000 years before and your kind would be lapdogs at the feet of a rotted corpse. Gnawing at the scraps they toss you.

 

You compair us to the other Legions? No we are not like them, we have what you cannot understand, we have a drive, only we have the will to lead. To think that I would have offered you a chance to join us. I should sooner called on the Blood Angels or Ultra Marines. You too will be swept aside. Our Terminators will crush your bones, our Possessed with eat your flesh. Your names will be forgotten.

The Sons of Horus will unmake you.

Ah,

The Black Legion speaks. Or should I say Sons of Horus? No better yet, let me say Luna Wolves.

 

Horus, yes, now there was a leader. His direction before his fall was unmatched. And after his fall, let us say, so much more than Abaddon. Horus has only led one failed attack. Abaddon, has led, twelve to date. Yes, lead, that is not a word I would use for it.

 

Know this that Horus was favored by all the gods. His will was the will of the gods. His commandment spoke for the gods. Why do you think the battle ended with his death. The spell was broken. We were his thralls, through him spoke our god. But alas, he was just a man.

 

And you speak of Death. Ah, you must be young. I was born an Emperor's Children before Fulgrim was found. I do not carry the weak geneseed that marines carry since the finding of the Primachs. I was created much as the Primachs. Each an individual. My life span was unmeasured. Perhaps a bit of history for you so you can know my thoughts.

 

Upon Terra the False Emperor had made 20 great men. To help him reconcour the universe after my Princesses birth. These 20 were as close to the Corpse god as man could make. But the Old gods saw what was comming, and snatched them away. The Corpse started looking for them, but the warriors of the day were just men, so he had 20 legions created to find the missing 20 Primachs. These were created much as the primach, each from the patterns of them. We were to be in their image, but not as them. We were theirs as surely as a son is his fathers. But the process was long.

 

Upon finding the Dark Angel's Primach, the lion, the scientists of Terra found they could double the number of marines being made by using a new technology called geneseeding. The structure of the Primach was used to create the first of these. The new recruits at the time were herded, not chosen as we had been. Mindwiped and then reprogrammed, and instant legions were created. The Primachs could then perform their task set before them.

 

But know, of the original legions, we were still alive. My own Legion was left with only 200 when Fulgrim was found. We are to the geneseed marines as they are to humans.

 

So, your Horus did not twist or mold us. My gift of eternal service was bestowed upon me long before Horus was returned to his father. And know this, the fates had set the course long before.

 

Lead if that is what you call it. You curry the favor of all the Gods, and through them we are commanded to obey when you have bootlicked enough favor. And as before, we will obey our god. And as before, as always before, you will fail of your own. For what man may lead when his command is one though prostrating and whimpering before the gods. I do not seek to appease Khorne, nor Nurgle, nor Tzeenctch. They will never have my bended knee. But for a warrior of the Luna Wolves, bended knees are your first action to any you meet.

 

++ Lord Comander Bowman

++ 29th Great Company of the Emperor's Children.

 

<<<<<<OOC

Read the Index astarstes article on creating marines. Read the beginning and it mentions when geneseeding was introduced.

 

In rouge trader times, the Space Marines were more like the English Navy, they would clean out prisons and mind wipe them. Introduce the geneseed. Those that took the geneseed and survived became marines. Those that didn't were harvested for their geneseeds to make other marines.

 

Really quite dark!

>>>>>>>>>

[LAP]

By the way, why has no one yet spoken out for the Death Guard in the name of their honour? Is it because they have no honour? Or because someone has began an orbital bombardment on the Nurgle forum using liquid soap?

 

Oh, and another great post by Refuse. Good thing the Black Legion (or should I say...LUNA WOLVES :) ) have caught his eye.

[refuse]

<<<<<

I think the 13th crusade will be led by the legions! With Khorne and Slaanesh finding peace (or at least an understanding).

 

++Great job LAP. Equal oppurtunity. I look forward to the Tzeenthc beating!

 

++The Angelus Sanctus, nice subtle points. That is some good fluff digging. :)

 

++JeffJedi- Good post, nice. Very nice.

 

++Chaplain Lazarus, dig deep, find the fluff. :) Yeah it gets hard to write. Pick on another legion, they will provide the ammo.

 

>>>>>

[LAP]

<<<<<

I think the 13th crusade will be led by the legions! With Khorne and Slaanesh finding peace (or at least an understanding).

 

++Great job LAP. Equal oppurtunity. I look forward to the Tzeenthc beating!

 

++The Angelus Sanctus, nice subtle points. That is some good fluff digging. :)

 

++JeffJedi- Good post, nice. Very nice.

 

++Chaplain Lazarus, dig deep, find the fluff. :) Yeah it gets hard to write. Pick on another legion, they will provide the ammo.

 

>>>>>

Ooooh....Tzeentch beating.... :) :) :lol: