The Elysia Crusade - Part One

[Amodeus]

The third war for Armageddon of 998.M41 is infamous as the site of some of the fiercest fighting of the 41st Millennium. On the war-torn surface, grim faced Black Templar Initiates fought shoulder to shoulder with Guardsman, Arbiters and civilians alike, every meter of burnt and bloody ground forming a stage for the elaborate and pounding tableau of battle. High in orbit, with ancient Sol holding a guiding vigil from the dark distances, High Marshall Helbrect himself led his brethren in the cleansing and ruination of the Ork Hulks supplying Ghazghull Thraka and his green-skinned horde. The unceasing flow of blood that had wet the Hives planet-wide was illuminated day and night as the burning contrails of debris fell like monsoon rains.

 

Embittered and exasperated with the stalling and stemming of his would-be Waaagh, Thraka fled Armageddon, his hulk veering away from the conflagrating Ring of Fire that now bathed the planet from Pole to pole in a hellish glare. Vowing an a final end to the Warboss, Helbrect and over half the accumulated crusade brethren powered into the gulf in persuit. This is not their story.

 

+++3758998.M41+++

 

The blackness was all encompassing, a wall devoid of length, breadth or end. It took an effort of will to discern the wavering pinpoints of brightness that sparsely studded that dark veldt. Castellan Cato Adeodatus unthinkingly stifled the rising sensation of unease that seemed broil up from that void like a bubble from a forgotten well. The long-ago lessons of his Abbas Magister came unbidden to his tongue “Fear not the darkness” he muttered “The darkness is our metal, the stars are our fire and our faith the sword we forge”.

 

He narrowed his old eyes at the tiny pricks of light and abruptly turned away from the, Port-hole. The window mounting, sensing his departure sluiced shut an armoured bulkhead that shielded the fragile observation point. Cato strode aft, the servos of his armour clicking into life and adding their near undetectable whine to the hum and hiss that was the beatless pulse of the Templar Battlebarge Imperator Mos.

 

The percussive clamour of his ceramite-shod steps preceded his progress and echoed dully. The corridor stretched on almost a hundred meters, pockmarked on alternating sides with blister like hatchways. Above his head cenobyte servitors buzzed past like errant insects following motivations all their own. Another servitor stood motionless at the portage to the gravlift, this one dwarfed by the old Marine but conspicuous in his ruddy AdMech colours. At the Castellan’s approach lights flickered on along radial lines studding the small creatures shrunken metallic head. A prothesis, entwined with hydraulics, snapped faster than the nominal eye could perceive to hover over the lift summons.

 

“Bridge” Cato said gruffly. He disliked the Mech-Priests reliance on these subversions, but their utility was undeniable. The wizened, simian form of the servitor deftly worked the summons controls, its eyeless lenses unnecessary as the arm hydraulics squirmed slickly. “Like serpents” Adeodatus thought with distaste.

 

The gravlift doors sighed open; a glance was enough to inform the Castellan that little had changed in the past watch. Aleron noticed his entrance and bowed almost imperceptibly, the Sword Brother’s dark eyes looked to be carved from malachite, glinting greenly in the glow from the massed banks of auspex, holo's and displays that lined the sunken sides of the rooms. As he approached the command consoles clustered at the far reach of the pyramidal space, Cato could discern the unintelligible susurration of machine speak rising and falling from either side. Glancing to the red-coweled figures that bent over stations either side of the raised promenade, it was impossible to say for certain where machine ended and man began.

 

 

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Much to come on this, it won't be a full tale as such though. More of tract to provide a cohesive theme to the army (and to give me modelling ideas) and a way to explore the nature of the Templars themselves (so expect much in the way of general zeal, prejudice and hate).

 

-A-

[Marshal Rohr]

The High Marshal stays with the Eternal Crusader. Its his personal vessels, its also a good deal faster(at warp speed) and more powerful than a normal battle barge.

 

And lose the 'Ser' title, this is a wargaming forum, everyone here has played Dragon Age ;) .

[Amodeus]

The High Marshal stays with the Eternal Crusader. Its his personal vessels, its also a good deal faster(at warp speed) and more powerful than a normal battle barge.

 

And lose the 'Ser' title, this is a wargaming forum, everyone here has played Dragon Age :) .

 

Good points well presented :) I'll make some corrections. What with basing the beginning of the crusade on the remnants of the Templar force left behind after the Third war for Armageddon it might be advisable to read Helsreach before committing any more fluff faux pas?

-A-