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Fury Of Kings

King Willy

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"The Field is a harsh mistress  the aged champion said, his voice distorted into a tinny growl, the hint of Chaos taint subtly weaved between his words in an otherworldly whisper on the edge of perception. Chains hung silently from his shoulder pad as he stared down upon the gladiatorial pits, stained with reds and greens, four hulking Astartes stood in solemn silence, bound in thin strips of leather and chains that restricted movement, the corpses of greenskin and those Astartes who failed the test formed a ring in the sand around them.

"You, who have passed the test have only her to survive" he said pulling an ancient chainsword from it's maglock scabbard, "For the Birthfallen" he said calmly, as he raised the silently hungry blade above his head.
"His will be done!" the Shadows erupted with the call as blue sparks slowly ignited and pulsed in now powered helmet lens like a sea of ghost flames.
The gladiators all took a knee as one, each saying a silent prayer to the dark lord they worshipped, brands and tattoos upon there flesh ebbing and flowing in time with there silent words, "We are purged of weakness" they said to the floor, once more standing in unison as an ancient but meticulously cared for door silently rose to reveal the exit from the blood pits.

Behind the Champion stood a gathering of other Champions of Chaos, each eternally sealed within armour that slowly dripped blood from beneath riveted Plasteel trimming, one amongst them gave a quiet chuckle at the theatrics as the Champion with the chainsword stepped down from the marble viewing platform.
"So much trouble for pups" the amused champion commented.
"Know your place Cordak" a hulking champion with heavy Power Mace strapped to his belt said, his hand reaching for the maces handle.
"Calm your Choler Aldos" said another champion, his face an indistinct blur.
Aldos took his hand of his mace reluctantly as the Champion from the platform approached the group, most of whom had begun to leave the viewing deck immersed in there own conversations.

"Killing greenskins is easy, why only them Yorrok" Cordak, the chukling Champion said, his part flesh helmet straining to mimic the emotion beneath.
"We have a number of Tyranid bio-forms waiting for fresh meat, why not give them a challenge" he added quickly, his helmet once more attempting to mimic it's masters face.
"I enjoy the spectacle as does Markus" Yorrok added nodding towards the only remaining blue lights in the stands.
The ghost fires turned to the gathered champions before approaching with an ominous clapping of bone upon sandstone, hooves crunching the well worn path around the pit as he marched into the light.

The Astartes who owned this unique mutation was made massive by the triple jointed hooves, his once proud mark IV armour cracked and split by the obviously sudden and powerful growth of the mutation that now dominated his form, hung limply and useless upon the flesh, burnt and fused with bone and sinew, his chestplate was largely untouched by corruption only the burning crown, they symbol of the warband, bolted on either side of the central chest vent.

"I've seen better" he said calmly, his emotions conveying even over the distortion of his Vox-grille.
"Kingmaker" the gathered champions said in unison with small nod of the head.
"The Birthfallen has called us, proceed to the black throne" he said while returning the informal nod.
"Seltan, walk with me, the rest of you go ahead" he added, eyes locked on the faceless Champion Seltan.

"What is your request Kingmaker" the faceless Astartes said, the blur of his face suddenly warping and swirling uncontrollably.
"You have one more chance" Markus said, his overbearing form and personality smothering the suddenly smaller Astartes Champion.
"Your mind is to cluttered and unfocused, to immersed in the Game, we owe fealty to the Birthfallen first among all" Markus sermoned as they walked towards the door, his eyes fixed on the others as they quickly retreated around the corner.
"My chosen warriors are being drilled and punished for there failure in the last raid" Seltan quickly replied.

"Your warriors do not fail the Birthfallen, only you can fail him" he retorted with slight bemused barbs in his tone as he stepped out the door.
If Seltan could show his expression it would be nothing but seething anger.
He quickly flushed the thoughts from his mind with a small prayer before marching out, his head a little lower then those who had left ahead of him.

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Yeah I was more resisting using the word champ, for now it's just a barebones to actually inspire my own chaos army as I build it up.


well other then that, I would have to say it is a really good story. That makes me want to write my own story for my chapter ;)

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New Crusades

The four Astartes marched through the gate of the arena into a long, coldly lit hallway, large windows running the length of the corridor showing the cold brutality of the Chaos Astartes lifestyle, some had Power Armour clad marines looking in, no doubt whispering about the new recruits to the warband.
One of the four looked left as he passed seeing a slave-master perform this warbands idea of punishment for slaves, a young, muscular man was forced into a large force cage with a pair of massive Orks, whose sadistic smiles were unnervingly human as they grabbed the poor fool and began to tear his limbs from there sockets, the Slave-master forcing a young female to watch as they began to bite into his still screaming face.

One of the Astartes was Hikarite, young for an Astartes at only 92, he was new to the Eye and all who looked upon him saw it, already he had been manipulated and almost killed a total of 23 times in the short 2 year span since leaving the Maelstrom and his brothers in the Red Corsairs.
His body was covered from head to toe in intricate tattoos that seemed to shift and move when viewed from the corner of ones eyes, his form was almost perfect in it's definition though unremarkable for an Astartes.

His eyes were unique though, not from a mutation but from there liveliness  an inhuman vigour seeming to focus within his eyes giving him an almost happy appearance even as he marched through the hallway, his limbs barely able to move beneath the powerful strips of chain and leather that wrapped tightly around him.
His confidence was at it's peak as the four stepped through a second door into a large antechamber, blue lens regarding them hungrily as an Astartes clad in Oily green armour with silver and bronze trimmings stood in front of them.

He slowly pulled his helmet of to reveal a face almost devoid of mutation and imperfection, a strong jaw set into a perpetual scowl and heavy lidded eyes created by a lack of sleep disrupting the perfection of the high cheeks bones and perfectly formed nose, his eyes had the spaced appearance of a Son of Horus.

"I am Gaviltor, you will address me as the Terrorsword" he said gruffly, "I am the Traitor Kings armourer, come with me" he added, his eyes darting around the room with a hint of paranoia.

The four nodded silently as they followered him down a small flight of stairs into the center of the chamber, which slowly began to empty as a group of servitors entered the room leading a precession of Warpsmiths.
The leader pointed his axe at a small recess in the center of the chambers pit, a small rack rising out of the ground began to unfurl a series of mechatendrites that uncoiled from large brutal hooks.

"You!" Gaviltor barked at Hikarite, "Your first" he said with an almost kindly, father-like smile.

Hikarite stepped forward quickly stepping before the menacing metal snakes, the Warpsmiths, beginning a cold, mechanical prayer. The Mecatendrites lashed out, wrapping tightly around Hikarites limbs with a brutal grasp, each attaching simultaneously and with laser precision around key points of his body.
They lifted him slowly up over the rack and twisted him in mid air, more tendrils snaked out of the ground, each carrying a number of Ceramite plates that may soon be apart of his new suit of armour.

Gaviltor stepped forward, the tendrils positioning Hikarites head so it hung above the Champion, painfully twisitng his arms and legs as gravity pulled him towards the floor. "A new life demands a new skin, as we have all done before you, pledge your soul to the Birthfallen and prove your worth to bear our skin" he said reverently.

"I am the Birthfallens sword" Hikarite replied, the tendrils tightened around his waist and arms before yanking him high into the air, the tentacles bearing the armour plates shot up towards parts of his body, tearing at exposed flesh as they forced armoured plates into the sockets of Hikarites black carapace, some parts stayed, others were brutally torn out and replaced, which in turn may cause other plates to be torn off.
The brutal dance continued for five minutes, flesh being flayed from skin as plates were fused with the bone and implants beneath, Hikarite had experienced no pain like this, while a loyalist his armour was carefully and reverently placed upon his form and given time to interface with the black carapace, this was brutal each time he felt the pain of his skin torn as a piece of armour was ripped off he saw a flash of light in response from his black carapace, but he knew this was only temporary.

The speed of the dance slowed as the Warpsmits chant did, each piece was now fully fused with his body, he was aware of each of there functions and state of repair, he smiled quietly to him self as his head was suddenly engulfed in steel tentacles, from the outside he looked like an Iron Maiden of shifting slithering tentacles.

As quickly as that had begun he was falling towards the floor of the chamber, landing with a heavy thud upon his knees, right fist to the ground head bowed before Gaviltor, his armour instinctively taking over and forcing him into a pose of subservience.

"Rise Hikarite, you have been accepted" the Terrorsword said with a satisfied smile.

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Bow Before The Black Throne

The atmosphere was unusually calm for a gathering of such sadism and evil, twenty Corruptus Astartes, a moniker taken up by the Traitor Kings, gathered in small groups before within the massive ampitheater, some sitting upon the stone steps that lead down towards the central dais upon which sat an ominous obsidian throne.

A quiet murmur hanging upon the air intermingled with a whispers that darted around the room, each Astartes a unique piece of artwork in there armour, no two bearing even the same sigils. The groups gathered in roughly fours and sixes, allies and rivals both.
Seltan had met back up with his three Brothers.
Yorrok, with his silently swinging chains and helmet of bone, Cordak, the flesh of his armour pushing through to fuse with Ceramite plate and Aldos, the brutal daemonic faces learing out from his shoulder pads and knee guards.
"You're done with your little... meeting" Cordak said, his helmet plastered with a menacing grin.
"He said I'm to find a proper weapon for to replace that cutlery you carry" Seltan retorted in regards to the four daggers strapped to Cordaks waist.
"Quiet" Aldos said, his eyes fixed upon the Black Throne as the sound of heavy metal boots accompanied by the clapping of hooves echoed down a small hallway to the left of the Throne.

"Glory To The Birthfallen!" the room erupted as one, each eye falling upon the massive form of Terminator armour lumbering into the centre of the room, every Astartes had his fist held out in salute.

Lord Mallius eyed his Champions quietly as he stepped before the Black Throne, somehow managing to sit upon it, his vast armour filling the massive rock face of his throne.
Is armour was bestial in appearance with it's brutal heavy plates and ostentatious ornamentation  a large eagle appeared to dive down upon his right shoulder as a hungry daemonic face held a skull between razor sharp jaws and eyes that burned with an eerie blue light. His chest plate had fangs growing beneath the chest plate while a mass of green and blue flesh slithered and pulsed beneath.
His greaves depicted coiling snake-daemons that fought and consumed each other, while a single eye sat looking down upon them, the whole armour seemed to be as much a living entity as any of the men that stood in the room, each image seeming to come to life when viewed in the right lights or shadows.

The helmet was unique, an almost featureless slab covered in intricately painted script and minuscule murals, only the breathing pipes sliding out beneath evidence of the helmets practicality.

Slowly the room fell silent as the Champions stood at attention, the ritual of Lord Mallius' helmet removal began as always.
the helmet seemed to rise of it's own accord lifting it's self to slide back and sit upon his head.
His face was an unmistakable sign of the goods favour, two massive mandibles hung from in front o his jaw bone, his mouth just visible behind a fence of razor sharp, dagger-like teeth a single split in the centre of the mandible contained more teeth, interlocked in a rictus smile, though the mouth behind was an almost imperceptible scowl. His eyes, a mixture of purples and greens that swirled and pulsed, darted quickly about, taking in all the information they could as large pink veins stretched up from beneath the mandible.

"Be Seated my court" Lord Mallius growled, each Champion sitting quietly and quickly upon stone benches that ringed the ampithearter, Markus the Kingmaker, silently stood to Mallius' left, his axe and sword hanging silently within invisible magnetic scabbards and a data slate within his right hand.

"We have orders from the Black Legion" Mallius said his head turning to Markus.
Markus bowed before stepping forward and lifting the data slate as if to read a sermon.
"The Traitor Kings shall strike the planet Freda II, Imperial garrison world, Kill any servants to the Carrion Lord and accomplish goals as dictated by The Birthfallen" he said curtly before nodding and stepping back beside the Birthfallen.

"Send out the Summons" Mallius said, each marine focusing a single vox code, "Come forward and receive my blessing" the Birthfallen added as the Champions gathered before him in groups of three, each Kneeling before him as Markus transmitted confidential orders into each Champions vox units.


Seltan, Yorrok, Cordak and Aldos marched quickly back to there preferred summoning hall, a small but brightly lit pleasure dome built into a small corner of the massive asteroid the Traitor King used as his fortress.

"We are simply the Diversion!" Aldos growled, slamming his fist into a rock wall, a number of other holes showing this to be a regular ritual.
"Last time we were to capture the Imperial commander, you weren't happy then either" Yorrok said smugly, the plates of his helmet retreating back into his armours collor with a silent almost organic manner.
"It was Seltan, that failed, not I, I should be at the Vanguard of the main attack, Instead I am to babysit a factory!" he snarled at Yorrok before turning on Seltan, "I would gut you given the chance" he added.

Seltan seemed to look straight through the fury of Aldos, "Lucky you still owe me a debt then" he said with a half amused, half angry tone.
"The lessers will be here soon, just relax" Cordak said, taking a large gulp from the odd mixture of chemicals and stimulants that sat burning through his plasteel mug.

The servants in the bar quickly darted out of the room as the heavy rhythmic stomp of Ceramite clad boots made there way from the various entryways, dark shadows rising out along the walls as the towering Corruptus Astartes gathered within the small room.

Each champion quickly returning to a neutral emotion.

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Excellent as always, you never disspoint so far. I really like the part with the Warpsmiths in it, really made me think of those daemonic mechandrites that they have. Kepp posting my brother, this will be good I'm excited to see the rest ;)
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Hikarite marched slowly in behind The Terrorsword, his new armour still tight and unfamiliar, it silently screamed and moaned in his head as the harshly fused plates adjusted to the his presence an almost sentient plea for release from its tortured existence.

Only two of the others successfully completed the armouring, he remembered the fourth armouring with a cold, satisfied smile.
It began as normal though rather then proclaim he pledge allegiance to Lord Mallius Birthfallen, Gaviltor instead turned and nodded slowly to the Warpsmiths, there chanting started erratic and loud, more organic then the one sung for himself and the two who had gone after him.

The Astartes bound within the Mechantendrils showed a look of surprise and then sudden realisation, the tendrils drew blood as they wound tight around his limbs, no plates joined with black carapace inputs, only cold plasteel jaws forced into flesh and drank deep of the Astartes vitae. Each tendril ripping chunks of flesh from the fools arms, legs and chest, he tried to struggle but the tendrils snapped him out into a crucifix as the tentacles continued there work.
The Warpsmith banged the staff of his halberd axe on the ground hard, causing the chanting to stop instantly, a signal for the Tendrils.

They began to tear more erratically less like the methodical machines they were meant to be and more like a pack of starved dogs killing a wounded pack member. The Astartes began to mumble, Hikarite distinctly hear prayers to each of the Chaos Gods, first as coherent sentences but slowly devolving into gibberish.
Finally the tentacles flung the corpse into the air, one of the tendrils straightened out like a spear just as the corpse fell down upon it, impaled through the chest, the fuse ribcage punctured and one of his hearts stuck on the end.

The Warpsmiths left as the Mechatendrils retreated back into there cage, the body left impaled in the centre of the room.

The three survivors walked quietly behind, one was named Ulgar, a former Space Wolf, and Tordo, an exiled Iron Warrior.
They gave each other no notice as they listened intently to Gaviltor.

"Your on Malefic Honourium, how long your here depends on who takes a notice of you" he said calmly as they marched down a long hallway cut into the rock of the Asteroid, old lights hanging dimly and shattered casting odd shapes upon the steel grated walkway.
"The armoury is run by Morgo the steelbeater, keep him content and you will always have a weapon and ammunition" he said suddenly turning into a small corridor that opened onto a gantry that crossed to a small rockcreate bunker suspended above a huge chasm full of forgeworks and smelters.
Hikarites eyes darted around taking in the sites of slaves being worked by the astartes who oversaw the forges, each wore only heavy spikes gauntlets, chest plates of various marks and simple ceramite and leather boots while a heavy looking bloodstained apron hang from there waist with heavy whips and clubs nestled within front pouches, the slaves seemed very strong and well fed despite numerous scars and burns, he faintly saw Aquila tattoos upon their shoulders.

"Gaviltor with new blood" the champion said at a small door into the bunker, which quickly slid open into a surprisingly busy forge work, the atmosphere more like a market or auction.
"This is the Warp Forge, always leave through the door your told to leave or you won't come back alive" Gaviltor said pushing the three astartes in.
"Good luck" he said with a smirk as he slowly closed the door.

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  • 3 months later...


The forge was full of activity, Hikarite looked out across the massive room, far larger then the tiny suspended bunker he saw from the gantry, a pocket dimension created to house the weapons produced by the Traitor Kings many Artificers. 

Eye lenses turned slowly as the three Astartes stalked forward towards one of the many weapon racks that hung from the roof upon large chains. 


Hikarite noticed movement all around him, slow deliberate hands gripped hilts or bolter grips, a few smiles grew quickly and savagely upon scar riddled mockeries of human faces. Hikarite moved instinctively to grip a heavy looking chainsword that seemed to glint and call to him, in a split second he ripped the blade from the steel cage, his thumb finding the rune etched activation stud as he brought the blade around to block the silently falling chainblades.


Hikartie eyed the pair of Corruptus Astartes before him, both wore the largely unadorned Mk5 suits, one had a mark 3 helmet while the others had been split down the left side by a bolt of plasma while mutation filled in the damage with overgrown bone growth that formed a interlocking spikes and plates that grimaced along side the flesh hidden beneath.


Ulgar and Tordo reacted a fraction of a second after Hikarite, Ulgar pulling a simple longsword from the rack and Tordo swung a small mace round to hit the helmeted marine in the temple, Ulgar tackled the bone faced marine. Hikarite dropped down below Tordos arm to bring his blade roaring up into the waist of the helmeted marines armour, tearing through his guts and pulling the intestines out as the teeth roared through armour, bone and flesh. 


Ulgar lifted the bone-faced marine high into the air over his shoulder as he straightened up, with a roar he slammed the marine hard upon the stone floor, huge cracks arched out from beneath the crumpled form of the marine, Ulgar turned to block another blade swinging for his head, blocking it with his blade and pushing hard off against the blade as Tordor stepped in behind him to bring his mace crushing down upon the bone plate covered head of the downed Astartes.


Hikarite wrenched his blade free to swing over Tordos crouched form to sever the hand blade hand from another attacker his sword glancing of the attackers helmet, knocking the poor fool of balance as Hikarite followed through with a pirouette ending with his chainswords teeth tearing through the soft armour between the leg and waist, cleaving the leg from the body.


Ulgar roared and barked as his fangs grew frighteningly long and black, he kneed the astartes in the gut before battering him down to the floor with a two handed hammer blow and quickly finishing him off with his blade slipping in between the shoulder armour and the chestplate to skewer the twin hearts of the Astartes.


All three stood over the bodies they had killed in the last 10 seconds, a circle had formed around them rather quickly a few stood weapons bear, though most simply stood admiring the death. 


"Clear out all of you!" a voice shouted as a few bodies made way, a bolter pointed to the ceiling let off a single roaring crack.

The firer was an otherwise unassuming individual, he lacked the veteran marking of the warband, blood flowing from his armour, as well as any discernible mutation yet all in attendance followed his curt command.


"Fresh meat, I'm Orbidia, come on" he said gruffly, distortion heavy from his vox-grille, as he turned and pointed towards a small table manned by an Astartes wearing the forge workers uniform.


They followed cautiously, blades gripped tightly in blood covered hands, "Fori, I've got the new bloods stuff, Seltans tab"

Orbidia said quickly to the Astartes behind the table who seemed to randomly throw small black pebbles onto the scales and enter data into a small data slate. 

"Corruptus Astartes Lupus, Longsword 293103, unpowered" he said hand whizzing across the screen, as his eyes darted across the blood stained blade in the space wolves hand.

"Corruptus Astartes Ferrus, Mace 1493002 parentheses Boulder, Unpowered" he added to the list before casually throwing a pebble on the scale.

Finally his eyes darted to the blood encrusted chainsword in Hikarites hands, it's engine purring quietly as his eyes rested upon them, "Corruptus Astartes Ultra, Chainsword 00319 dash 937 Parentheses Kinsword" he threw a number of pebbles on the scales, "Unpowered" he added looking over at Obidia.


They exhcanged a courteus nod before Orbidia motioned for them to follow.

"Not bad you three, not bad at all, they weren't exactly amazing fighters but they had the drop on you and you did as was expected" Orbidia said as they stopped in front of one of the many doors.


"I'm not gonna help beyond pay for your weapons, so get out there and work for your place, but do well and I'll put a good word in for you" he added pushing the door open after three loud raps on the door.


Hikarite smiled beneath his helmet as they stepped out onto another gantry leading to a smaller stone hallway, they were not on the asteroid they where tested on.

Orbidia walked quickly ahead, his hand running along the gantry railing, his eyes darting quickly along the walkways that snaked up around the cavern the bunker hung suspended in, unlike the first bunker, this one was held in place by thick chains that pulsed with  visible bolts of purple energy.


"Were are we" Tordo yelled to Orbidia.

"The Hearth" he replied quickly as they approached the door leading out of the forge cavern.

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