This is the Liber Astartes, PART II

[fivepointedstar]

Heru did you write the epic arse save for Brother Ace yet?

Er, I'm meant to be writing it, actually.

But since I lost a close family member this year and we've just gone past their birthday I'm not exactly flush with enthusiasm right now.

 

'Course if anyone else is up to the task, then I certainly don't mind letting them writing it out instead. :lol:

 

EDIT:

Missed a word out. That's actually kind of a new one.

Opps, I got the 'who was doing what' mixed up. An sorry to hear for your loss.

[Hrvat]

And so it continues ;)

[Brother Argent]

Scribe Kolus hated it when he was sent to this part of the Liber. Known as the Deepest Darkest Depths of Liber, or the DDDoL, its halls were dark, their only light provided by badly flickering luminescent tubes on the rusted black metal walls. Cobwebs from some creatures that Kolus could only silent pray to the Emperor were some variety of the ancient Terran spider. Small creatures skittered about unseen in the inky black shadows. The air seemed ancient and stale, as though nothing had stirred in these depths for centuries. The whole place was filled with an almost over powering feeling of despair and loss. Kolus slowly whispered a prayer to the Emperor over and over under his breath. It was something his mother had taught him, a few phrases that, for him at least, helped keep the fear at bay. Ahead of him a lone servo skull glided along, it’s weak light acting as a beacon again the darkness pressing in.

 

Kolus glanced to either side as he walked down the long corridor. Doors lined the hall, each was rusted and dirty. Some were permanently sealed, the sign of the Moderati or Inquisition emblazoned on the ancient doors, denying all entry to what lay within. Others the doors were slightly ajar, and behind these Kolus could make out the images of half formed marines or holographs. Ideas lost to the wages of time and long forgotten in these darkest depths. When Kolus came to these he quickly averted his eyes, for it was said that if you looked too deeply at such marines one would quickly loose their mind.

 

They continued on for what seemed like forever. Kolus’ whole word reduced to the flickering light of the servo skull in front of him. He began to wonder what was so important in these depths that he had been sent to find. The marine that had sent him here had given no clue as to the reasoning, only that he was a representative of the Ordo Xenos, the fabled Deathwatch, and that he was owed something that Kolus was to retrieve from the DDDoL. He had bid Kolus follow the servo skull and that when he found was he needed to find he would know. Kolus began to wonder if he could slip back to the higher up levels of the Liber. No one would know that he had come back empty handed. And if the Deathwatch Marine was still waiting he would tell him the servo skull got lost, or failed or something… Kolus sighed in desperation; he knew such a deed was impossible. Even if he could convince the stranger of the skulls fate he would still have to find his way out of the DDDoL first. And he knew that without the skulls guidance such a feat would be beyond his means.

 

Kolus was so lost in his thoughts that he hardly noticed the skull had stopped its path onwards until he nearly ran into it. It bobbed silently in the air before one of the many doors of the corridor. Kolus approached the ancient portal. The paint on the door was old and peeling off. Rust had seeped its way through in some parts and cobwebs filled the upper left half of the frame. In the dim light from the skull Kolus could make out two letters painted in the centre of the door.

“SP” he breathed quietly as he ran his hand over the letters. He guessed that what ever he was sent to find lay beyond this door. He took a deep breath and with another muttered prayer he pushed the activation rune beside the door. The ancient portal slid open with a grinding squeak that echoed down the corridor only to be swallowed by the oppressive darkness. The room beyond the door was only slightly more well lit then the corridors. In the centre of the room a single marine sat kneeling. His armour was an ever shifting myriad of colour schemes and pattern. Great chains bound the marine’s legs and arms to the walls of his cell. As Kolus entered the room the marine looked up and Kolus recoiled at the look of utter loss in his eyes. The marine stared at Kolus fore what seemed an eternity before his spoke. His voice was cracked and gravely from long disuse.

“Why have you come?” was all he said. Before Kolus could reply a voice came from the servo skull.

“It is time, Brother.” Was all it said before it suddenly dropped to the floor, its light suddenly extinguishing and the skull shattered as it hit the floor. The marine stayed silent. Then he started to laugh. It started to so quietly that at first Kolus took it to be a noise from further down the corridor, or some kind of machinery inside the walls. But it soon grew in volume as the chained marine slowly dragged himself to his feet. The constantly shifting colours of his armour began to increase and grow faster. As the marines laugh grew louder the shifting colours sped up till soon Kolus began to feel nauseated by their constant shifting. As they sped up the marine’s laugh began to turn from laugh to a roar of pain. The room grew hotter and hotter and suddenly silver flames burst from the marine’s eyes and mouth. Kolus cried out in fear and stumbled backwards. He tripped on the door frame and fell to the floor. The silver flames spread and soon the marine was consumed by the blinding flames. Kolus, absolutely terrified scrambled back out into the hall way. He hit the rune to cause the door to slide shut and lay cowered as even with the door closed the light from the burning marine lit the corridor. Kolus had never been so terrified in his whole life. He lay curled up in the foetal position as the marines roar of pain continued for some time then suddenly went quiet. Slowly the light from behind the door eased out and then disappeared. Kolus lay for sometime in the darkness of the hall, the only sound his own terrified sobs. After a while he calmed himself down. He realised with bitter shame that he had soiled himself in his fear. He slowly began to pull himself to his fee when the door of the room slid open again. Kolus looked on in horror, wondering what would emerge from the cell. When nothing did he forced himself to look in. The room’s walls were scorched and, in some parts, melted. The chains that had held the marine were lying on the ground, their manacles melted to nothing. Where the marine had been two now stood. One wore armour of bright orange covered in baroque spikes and screaming faces with great horns coming from his helmet, the other stood in armour of pure shining silver with great wings coming from his back and clad in robes that seemed made from dancing flames.

“Who… Who are you?” Kolus managed to stammer. When the two marines spoke they spoke at the same time and Kolus realised that their voices were as one, filled with a power and knowledge that was at the same time both terrifying and uplifting at once.

“I am both the past and future. I am both the sinner and the faultless. I am hope and despair. I am Silver Phoenix and I have returned!” And with that the room was filled with another bright flash of purest silver. Kolus recoiled, temporarily blinded. When his vision finally returned there was only one marine in the room again. His armour was the traditional black and red of the Legio bar one shoulder pad which remained silver. The giant extended a hand down to the prone scribe.

“Now,” the marine’s began his voice now kindly and caring, “I believe you were sent to find me.”

[Reyner]

Yay! It lives! And so does SP! I hope the Deathwatch marine was a nod to that other thing you were doing... :o

[Warhorse47]

Really enjoyed this SP. Keep up the good work!

[fivepointedstar]

WHOO! The thing in the SP vault lives!. I always wondered what was down that dank hall. I'm scared of spiders so I never thought of venturing. ;)

 

Excellent entrance Silver Phoenix.

[Brother Argent]

I hope the Deathwatch marine was a nod to that other thing you were doing... :P

 

And now why would you think that... ^_^

[Reyner]

Just a hunch... I may be a Librarian for all you know now.

 

 

:)

[Grey Hunter Ydalir]

I feel GHY is totally overshadowed by SP now. That said, he deserves to be, that was fantastically written! Love it SP. :(

[Brother Argent]

I feel GHY is totally overshadowed by SP now. That said, he deserves to be, that was fantastically written! Love it SP. :no:

 

The Internet, the only place where I can be cool... That and where everyone gets reduced to acronyms...

[Brother Cambrius]

Brilliant work SP! Glad to see you back and posting after your time away. :no: Wonder if that Deathwatch mention is indeed a hint...

 

I need to contribute more to this at some point. *looks at my Liber Heraldry Dept. story* ...Some point...

 

Cambrius

[Ace Debonair]

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Ace said, rolling his eyes theatrically. "If I have to say 'The Space Wolves took it' one more time I swear to the Emperor I'm going to explode from the sheer repitition. You've been nagging me about it for five months now."

 

The Interrogator-Chaplain sighed and reached slowly for his crozius. Ace made a spirited attempt to break free of his chains.

 

"Oh no, not this again. Please, anything but the crozius. It's so agonizingly, painfully dull after the first week."

 

The Chaplain hefted the weapon carefully, feeling the weight of it. "I've had enough of your lip, thief. If you don't give us the location of the bike you stole, we'll use your femurs for handlebard on a new one. And then-"

 

"Let me guess," Ace said, mockingly. "You're gonna use my teeth for dice. Heard it before, not impressed."

 

"Actually, I think today I'm just going to give you one more chance then shoot you. One bike isn't worth the amount of whining you dish out." The Chaplain retorted, drawing his bolt pistol.

 

"Emperor be praised," Ace laughed, acidly. "After five months of you doing the same thrice-asketh-ye-question-five-times-striketh-ye-prisoner routine I welcome the idea of being shot at just because it's a refreshing change of pace. You don't even change the order of the attacks. One to the shoulder, one to the right leg, one to-"

 

"WHERE IS MY BIKE, THIEF?" The Chaplain bellowed. Ace opened his mouth to utter something spiteful, but said nothing. A small mechanical contrivance tucked into his belt had just made a noise for the first time in five months. There were Liberites nearby, tracking him.

 

"It's outside the door," Ace said, grinning.

 

The Chaplain paused for a moment. There was a knocking, and a voice.

 

"Brother Fabariel, there is a brother marine here to speak with you. He says he has something of yours?"

 

The Chaplain strode over to the door, wrenching it open in one swift move. There was a noise like a chain being whipped through the air, and a crack like a bowling ball hitting a wall, and Chaplain Fabariel toppled over backwards.

 

"There's your beatdown, and here's the keys for your stupid bike." A familiar voice said, tossing an ignition key for an attack bike onto the prone chaplain. Heru Talon strode into the room, swinging a spine-flail in one hand and dragging a Dark Angel marine trapped in a headlock with the other. "It's in hangar four, next to the land raider with the tacky 'my other ride's an Ares' sticker. Now stay out of Liber business, or I'll come back." So saying, Heru swung the flail in a complicated arc, concluding with the skull atop the flail impacting with the unprotected head of the other Dark Angel, knocking him clean out.

 

Ace just looked at Heru incredulously.

 

"How in the name of Holy Terra did you find me?"

 

"It was easy enough. I went to Fenris and spine-flailed a few of the Wolves until they gave me the bike and told me where they'd seen you last. Then I asked myself 'What would Ace do if he was captured by Dark Angels?"

 

"You did?" Ace blinked in surprise. "I'm flattered, but I don't see how-"

 

"That was the hardest part. It wasn't easy trying to be as scatter-brained as you, but I eventually figured you'd be too, well, incapable to escape by yourself." Heru said, idly cleaning the bleached skull atop his spine-flail.

 

"Oh." Ace frowned. "Well, having the snot beaten out of me on a daily basis sort of hindered me making good my escape."

 

"You couldn't escape your way out of a glass room with an open door." Heru snorted. "Anyway. I'm here because someone back at the Liber finally noticed the level of inane babbling had dropped below the usual levels. Apparently that's 'part of the ambience', so here I am. I'll take any mission to get away from the mad-house for a change."

 

Ace's expression flickered between bewilderment, outrage, and bewildered outrage. Eventually he spoke again. "So how did you get here again?"

 

"I got a lift from some Black Templars eager to discuss something about some crusade or whatever with the Dark Angels. I gave their Marshal a skull-flail in return for being able to summon them to crusade a target of my choosing. Haven't picked anything yet, though. I'm going to save that for when someone does something really stupid. Now come on, let's get you back to the Liber before anyone else does something I have to smite them for."

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 

My apologies in advance if the events depicted above cause irritation or outrage to any Dark Angels fans. Consider Chaplain Fabariel henceforth retired for gross incompetence and monotony if it pleases you.

 

Take comfort in the fact I've been imprisoned trying to think up a plausible escape from this story for five months without turning Heru into a plain old Deus-Ex-Spine-Flailia. At least there's an explanation for how he got there!

 

Also my apologies in advance to Heru for probably failing to portray him as anything but an angry Deus-Ex-Spine-Flailia for getting me out of trouble. :)

EDIT: Pin that particular fault on writing the story at 1 AM and the computer eating part of it halfway through.

[Madwolf Shadowmane]

The legend continues. Great escape Ace.

 

Madwolf

[Brother Cambrius]

Heehee glad you've now escaped Ace, I need some company down in the Heraldry Department, it's been rather quiet, dull and lacking your hat's presence...

 

The Chaplain hefted the weapon carefully, feeling the weight of it. "I've had enough of your lip, thief. If you don't give us the location of the bike you stole, we'll use your femurs for handlebard on a new one. And then-"

 

"Let me guess," Ace said, mockingly. "You're gonna use my teeth for dice. Heard it before, not impressed."

 

Hmm, I think it's fair to say all Liberites have a rather thick skin when it comes to such threats. ;)

 

Cambrius

[Warhorse47]

Glad to see you made it out. Hopefully we will be back soon to help you out again!

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Striding down the main hall of the great Legio, Dark Apostle Thirst had many things on his mind. His recent encounter with Gurnoth Lan had him remembering many, many things, much of which he had forgotten and abandoned long ago. His main concern, however, was whether or not he handled the Inquisitor correctly, and if he indeed remembered things as they truly transpired.

 

These thoughts had occupied his mind greatly of late and he had spent little time not dwelling on them, and then most of that time was spent in discussion with his fellow moderators. Even now he was only taking a cursory glance over the Frater of the Legio, so that he might not be neglecting in his duties. He was expecting nothing out of the ordinary, of course, and he simply let his feet guide him the familiar paths of the great Legio. So it was that the Moderator found himself at the threshold of the Liber.

 

Pausing for a moment, he put his hand on one of the humble doors of the Liber Astartes. Though he had recently started an archive there, that too seemed distant in his mind compared to his inner turmoil. The plain gateway was peaceful and welcoming, however, and it seemed to provide a bit of contentment to his troubled state. A slow smile crept over his lips as he wondered how the war with the Typos were going since the incident with Reyner and the Incineratus setting. Though he doubted that that particular setting had been used again - if only because the destruction caused by a second blast would collapse much of the Liber, if not contained within a Warp pocket like the original firing was - it was still prudent to be fearful of the weapon. Of course, it also had its potential too. Perhaps an even larger version of it, with a spherical mount so that it could move itself around... Then the Dark Apostle dismissed the idea. An even larger version wouldn't just destroy the Liber, is could have the firepower to destroy a planet. Only an empire should be able to wield that much power, and certainly not the Imperium, who had yet to master the dark forces of the Warp.

 

As these idle thoughts trickled through Thirst's head he heard a pair of voices fast approaching. Turning to his left, he saw a familiar skull-flail and feathered cap, the trademarks of Heru Talon and Ace Debonair. Nodding his greetings, he joined the duo for the moment as they entered the Liber itself.

 

"So, Ace, why don't you tell the rest of this lot how I just saved your sorry hide?" Heru Talon grinned as the various Liberites looked up to see the returning Ace.

 

Rolling his eyes, the recently freed Adeptus Domus began his tale...

 

 

-----------------

 

 

Ok, I'll admit that actually served no purpose besides shameless self-advertising and throwing in a Star Wars reference, but it was nice to practice writing a story that isn't about Thirst's youth right now :lol:

[Reyner]

Yay! It lives!

[Messor]

This is such a fun ride! The way it brings the Liber and Liberites to life makes me smile every time, even when I hardly longe whats going on!

 

Edit: after reading the whole thing it's graduated from fun to epic! Masterful, brothers!

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Yay! It lives!

No thanks to your flamer ;)

[Ace Debonair]

Rolling his eyes, the recently freed Adeptus Domus began his tale...

 

"So there I was, surrounded by six hundred Dark Angels with heavy bolters with chainsword bayonets..."

 

EDIT:

"Let me guess," Ace said, mockingly. "You're gonna use my teeth for dice. Heard it before, not impressed."

 

Hmm, I think it's fair to say all Liberites have a rather thick skin when it comes to such threats. :P

 

Cambrius

 

I'm glad you picked up on that one.

Which reminds me, you never did finish writing your story. I think that means you owe me some new dice. ;)

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I have absolutely no idea how to one-up the war against typos as a storyline, as a general note. :D

 

And after doing a tour of the forum, I've decided we might actually be amongst the most normal sub-forums. How's that for a sobering thought? :ermm:

[Reyner]

Now this might be utterly craptastic but it's been ages since I wrote anything like this. It's meant to be a bit of a filler between the last time my character was seen (in a fiery ball of awesomeness) and what happened to him afterwards...

 

 

-----------------------

 

 

It had felt like years. A fool’s errand into hell itself looking for something that no longer exists. Checking the chronometer on his cell wall it had only been five months - it had been more like five centuries to him, they do say time flows differently in the Eye. The Strike Cruiser had finished its long voyage, it was battered but the old relic still functioned after travelling to hell and back. The Crusade had been gruelling, so many brothers lost to the arch enemy. A thirst for vengeance had caused the survivors to charge after their foes and wipe them out entirely - foolish now looking back but they couldn't help themselves.

 

His armour had changed; it was now a patchwork of many different suits as he looted the dead for replacement parts. Several pieces were from the enemy but he had been assured they had been cleansed and blessed by the surviving Chaplain. He could feel the Strike Cruiser start to decelerate, he smiled and reached for his helmet and weapons. He felt a moment of shame as he saw his reflection - his pauldron should show a white dragon against a purple field but his previous pauldron had been destroyed in battle and he had not gotten chance to repaint the scavenged one. The scavenged plate was obsidian and jet chevrons with an embossed iron skull. Other pieces of armour that had the sigils of the archenemy on them he had torn off but he was strangely pulled to this piece, he wanted to destroy it but a small part of him embraced it. He picked up his deep purple cloak and hid the blasphemous icon beneath it, he would not let his brothers in the Legio see it. He couldn't let them see it. None of them would understand.

 

Making his way to the hangar he mused on why he was sent on this damn crusade, he had saved the Librarium! His fists clenched in anger remembering that day he had fired his flamer into the warp rift. Sure there was a lot of damage but the rift had been sealed! He couldn't remember much after firing but had recalled being pulled aside and flung into a redemption crusade with a Chapter of Marines he had never even heard of. Even now his memory was clouded - he wasn't sure if it was because of the crusade and the Eye or had one of the Librarians done something to his mind. He wasn't sure but it was constantly causing him to question the actions of his brethren. What had he done to deserve this? Maybe they didn't trust him anymore. They might think he had changed and would be a risk to the order and their safety. These questions had been with him since he had returned from the Eye - constantly nagging at him and distracting him.

 

The huge black and red Thunderhawk was prepped and waiting for him, mindless servitors tracked the heavy bolters left and right searching for potential threats and gibbering in binaric cant. Marching up the assault ramp he ignored the serfs and got into the pilot throne and began starting up the engines. He did not want to wait any longer than necessary on this cursed ship he had to return to the Liber, back to his brothers and to search for some answers and more importantly he wanted his flamer that he had left in his armoury. He'd left it there so it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands on the redemption crusade.

The engines began to scream as he punched the ignition and felt the craft lift from the deck and soar into space heading back to the secret monastery of the Legio. The massive fortress loomed on the horizon as he pushed the Thunderhawk to its limits, voices started to come through on the vox asking him to identify himself - why were they questioning him? What had happened in his absence? Snarling he opened the vox link and replied:

 

"I am Brother Reyner of the Legio, Sworn Brother of the Liber Astartes. Give me permission to land".

 

-----

[fivepointedstar]

I'm also glad to see this getting new posts.

An Ace to answer your post above, someone could just write the final battle in the Typo hive. Somewhere in the depths the brave Liberites arm themselves to the teeth. Brandishing the best weapons avaliable, and venturing forth to finally unleash the emperors final judgement... Exterminatus. And since the Horus Heresy collection is recently been added to our wonderful hobby, maybe we should make it "legion-style". And write in that the other forums march into the depths too. just a thought.

[Brother Cambrius]

EDIT:

"Let me guess," Ace said, mockingly. "You're gonna use my teeth for dice. Heard it before, not impressed."

 

Hmm, I think it's fair to say all Liberites have a rather thick skin when it comes to such threats. ;)

 

Cambrius

 

I'm glad you picked up on that one.

Which reminds me, you never did finish writing your story. I think that means you owe me some new dice. ;)

 

Couldn't miss it, made me give a dark chuckle in the wee hours of the morn. :D

 

Who says I've stopped writing on it? It's oh so slowly being produced, whilst I am lost in the depths of the LHD, in a long commune with the Emperor on the correct usage or the colours orange and purple (which incidentally, are the colours of my new Chaos and Loyalist armies. ;)). It will emerge brother, thaty I assure you, so no teeth until I say I'm done. :P

 

@ Reyner: Glad to have you back Reyner, I'm sure Thirst and the rest of the Heresy Dept. would be most interested in your new attire. ;)

 

Cambrius

[fivepointedstar]

@Reyner.. sounds like you've caught the Chaos Uprising cold. Seek out the apothecary for regulated injection of the Emprah's blessing. Nice return story BTW.

[Aqui]

It was quiet. Too quiet. For someone who at various times had seven or so other voices in their head cajoling, berating and even more unnervingly, agreeing with every decision and thought in his head, Aquilanus trod carefully.

 

He was currently in the Legio's Librarium, and as usual there were few Marines or Sisters there. On his way to the exit, he noticed a data slate, left on standby mode.

 

Careless, he mused, but in spite of himself activated the device, suspicion ensuring that it was kept at arms length. The text was gibberish, and Aquilanus was about to throw the thing away, but there was something familiar about the contents.

 

I can't make head nor tail of it mused one voice.

 

I'm not surprised fur ball, after the amount of mead you consumed last night. snarked another.

 

You're just annoyed that I ripped your cowl when I beat you again...

 

Quiet. This is important. the third voice was annoyed at the first two, their petty bickering stretching even his vast capacity for logic and rationality to breaking point.

 

Well? We're waiting smart arse. the fourth snorted. This one had changed the most, was belligerent and prone to full on bouts of pure, unadulterated violence. This had been the most calm and patient he had been for some time. Nevertheless, the others flinched instinctively, worried that he might take control of the body they currently shared.

 

I'm not sure what it means, as I've already said, replied the third slowly, We need to get this to DAT and the others, as soon as possible.

 

So, no fightin' then? The others could feel the rage well up again, the metaphorical dam stretching to breaking point.

 

Not yet.

 

Not yet? piped up Six. This voice was very different to the others. A different Gender for a start. How the Sister had managed to get trapped with them, no one knew, but she was the best at what she did, and was almost as psychotic as the fourth when she set her mind to it....

 

There is no need for the Flamer yet, Sister. continued the third. However, I honestly feel that this data slate may well be a big clue to all of the...activity lately.

 

How so? asked the fifth and seventh voice together.

 

Look, we know that the Typo Daemons manifest when there are errors made in the written word, and are able to warp Space and Time around them to a degree when they enter our Universe.

 

Go on.

 

Well, the entire contents of this Data Slate is complete gibberish.

 

A pause, as all of the different voices tried to follow that train of thought.

 

The third voice sighed. It should have been the catalyst of a massive event. The epicentre of a huge manifestation of Typo Daemons. Why isn't it then? Why aren't we currently beset by Daemons right now?

 

I have no answer, but I dare say that you're gonna bore us to death telling us. growled the first voice.

 

Ignoring the sarcasm, the third continued This....this could be the original document that set everything into motion. It would make sense that if this was the very thing that caused everything to go awry, it would be immune to it, otherwise how else would the Person, or Persons be able to control it?

 

Who cares?! cried the first voice, exasperated at the long winded explanation. Destroy it and be done.

 

No. We need to know more about this, and to find the others. I doubt that one of these devices could cause such carnage, especially as those Daemons popped in more than one location at once.

 

We have to find the others and call a hunt for more of these things. Only when the last one is destroyed can we rest.

 

Oh good. remarked the first Voice.

 

The fourth uttered something that no one could understand. Everyone else hoped it was something approaching assent.

 

Striding with Purpose, they walked out of the Librarium, determined to find the others and work out who was behind all of this....

 

 

 

 

Hopefully, no one will mind if I add a little to the story. I've missed this topic, but as most of us can attest, real life gets in the way and...well you know the rest :)