Nature vs. Nurture, the What If? edition

[Noctus Cornix]

Didn't like mine? :c

 

Why does no one like Corax of Nuceria?

 

*sobs*

[Aqui]

Hopefully this isn't too bad. There's feth all dialogue, which is something I would have liked to have added in after I wrote it. If it meets with some approval I'll add to it (bearing in mind that it's 813 words long already! )

Anyway, as I said "Alpharius and Omegon" (with different names) on Olympia:

"I am the beginning."

"I am the end."

"We are Ouroboros."

The skies of Olympia one night saw a streak of blue and green as a heavenly object fell to the ground, its arrival announced by an explosion that woke every man woman and child. The militia who were sent to investigate came upon a metal pod bearing the legend XX. It was not possibly to approach for some time, the heat unbearable to withstand for more than few seconds. Nevertheless, once the pod opened, the militiamen were shocked to find two children inside, their skin unmarked and seemingly unscathed and unperturbed by their plight. Their appearance was subject to much chatter amongst them on their way to Lochos; the children were heavy set, their brows were deeper than that of Olympia and were taller than was typical for ones so young.

The ruler of Lochos, Dammekos, was a cold hearted man. Other City states had taken to calling him a Tyrant in fact and despite this was curious of these children of the stars. He took them for his own, teaching them both everything he knew. It wasn't enough, as the children developed a voracious appetite for knowledge, reading the entire library at Lochos within months. Their growth did not go unnoticed either, for they had overshadowed Dammekos by their fifteenth year. The pair were called αρχή "the Beginning" and κατάληξη - "the end", for αρχή was the one who spoke first, his question to their adoptive father about some of the methods he employed in keeping the other city states at bay. Astonished by such a precocious demand, Lochos merely roared with laughter, before retiring the children to their beds.

The question was never answered.

As the Tyrant of Lochos extended his reach towards the other city states, he employed his sons in his armies, both puissant warriors by that time as sub commanders. Neither had forgotten the question asked that night, nor did they forget the lack of an answer. Secretive in nature, both αρχή and κατάληξη had grown weary of their roles, seeing only death and misery wherever they went. It was, by then, impossible to gain an audience with Lochos, who had become paranoid and sour in demeanour. The latest campaign had seen them sack a small city on the outskirts of Pathos, Lochos' main adversary. It had been levelled, nothing remained. Saddened by what they saw, the twins knew that they had to act. Leaving their posts, they returned to Lochos and confronted Dammekos.

In a rare, impassioned speech, they beseeched him to stop, to take stock of what his actions. Dammekos refused and ordered their deaths. It took mere moments to despatch their would-be executioners and their King was left defenceless.

Rather than kill him, his sons exiled him and those servants still loyal to him. Silently vowing revenge, Dammekos was escorted from the city and decreed that he never return.

With the power of Lochos at their disposal, αρχή and κατάληξη started to undo the damage wrought by the former Tyrant. It took many years, but during that time, the aptitude of each sibling changed. αρχή was predisposed to fortifying and repairing, κατάληξη's natural talent was in sapping enemy strongholds and cutting off supply lines.

And so it was, that ten years hence, that the Sons of Lochos had stabilised Olympia. A planet wide celebration took place to mark the occasion met with a strangers arrival at the capital. The newcomer had congratulated the Sons with their success, and bade them to follow him on a crusade of his own. Suspicious of his intent, κατάληξη demanded that he identify himself.

He did so.

The Emperor of Mankind stood before him, and again bade them both join Him. Sensing something noble within the stranger and his purpose, αρχή and κατάληξη bowed in supplication. In return they were granted the last Legion in the Emperors' armies. It had no name, something that neither twin had any wish to change. The XX legions' first engagement was against the nearby planet of Justice Rock. The natives harboured a group known as the Black Judges, spreading heresy as they went. The planet was levelled, continent by continent as an example of the Legions might. By the end, αρχή saw the devastation and wept. His brother knew what ailed his soul, but could not feel the same way. Fully half of the Legion was remaindered to rebuild what had been destroyed. κατάληξη, the destroyer, αρχή , the builder. Together the planet was brought into compliance, and a lot sooner than it thought possible.

Having seen the work of those siblings with his own eyes, the Emperor decreed that the Legion be given a name that reflected their nature. From ere after they were called

The Ouroboros Legion. The beginning and the end.

Didn't like mine? :c

Why does no one like Corax of Nuceria?

*sobs*

I'll read everything again tomorrow after I finish work...which reminds me, I need to get some sleep

[Wade Garrett]

My latest snippets were Mortarion on Nostromo and Ferrous from Nuceria, if anyone cares.

[Conn Eremon]

Hey, none of mine were on that list either. Not all of us can be creative and talented at the same time. :p

 

Ferrus Manus with the Nails and anti-xenos is almost as interesting as a Nostraman Mortarion with a shadow empire.

[Wade Garrett]

Ferrus Manus with the Nails and anti-xenos is almost as interesting as a Nostraman Mortarion with a shadow empire.

Shadow empire? No, no. He's just an ordinary general, who happens to have friends who owe him a few favors.

As for Ferrous, I think I've already mentioned how he got attacked right out of the incubation pod by Necrons and wound up with the necrodermis, but it wasn't as pronounced as in canon, and he sliced those bits off and replaced them with bionics, because his metal hands were trying to control him! (Maybe. Having the Butcher's Nails beaten into your brain isn't going to do wonders for your judgment and mental stability.)

Then he started wondering...just how deep did the taint go? Sure, he cut off and replaced the OBVIOUSLY xenos bits, but...how can he be sure he got everything? Better take off some more parts and replace them with cybernetics, just to be safe. Don't touch the Nails, though. Those help him resist the temptations of the alien. Those stay. Hmmm....he's got a bit of an odd feeling in his left eye...XENOS CORRUPTION! TAKE IT OFF AND REPLACE IT WITH A BIONIC ONE! So on, so forth.

And the fact that nobody except the Emperor (maybe?) has any idea what's normal Primarch biology and what's xenos spawned corruption is not doing wonders for Ferrous's burgeoning obsession.

[GhostMalone]

Hmmm seems that my stuff won't be in cohesion with everyone else's.

 

Pshycological manuscripts saved and now ill just read works much better than mine

[Hyaenidae]

DELETED

[Conn Eremon]

Hmmm seems that my stuff won't be in cohesion with everyone else's.

 

Pshycological manuscripts saved and now ill just read works much better than mine

Hey, now. That's not fair. You wrote it, you post it. No excuses, or I go soup nazi all over you.

[Aqui]

Heathens - I shuddered at your Fists post. I love their official incarnation, but that, that was dark.

Love it!

Anyway. Sleep beckons!

As I said, I'll read every post I haven't had chance to look at asap (there are some really good stuff posted!)

[Wade Garrett]

Didn't like mine? :c

 

Why does no one like Corax of Nuceria?

 

*sobs*

 

Because "Lanista" creates the bizarre mental image of Legate Lanius from Fallout: New Vegas, employed serving coffee at Starbucks?

(Yes, I know it's an official Latin word for a gladiator trainer, but you asked...)

 

And Cormac, I remain a huge fan of Captain Ha...er, Leman Goldenbeard, SPACE PIRATE!

 

Edit:

Anyone mind if I repost some of this stuff on some other sci fi forums I frequent? I promise not to claim anything I didn't come up (although the temptation to take credit for heathens Nostromoan Dorn was there. Oh, was it there.)

[Noctus Cornix]

That's cold, bro :(

[Conn Eremon]

Thanks for the reassurance. Working on the Lightning Bearers at the moment.

 

Here is a current list:

 

Homeworld - Legios

Caliban - XV

=][= DELETED =][=

Chemos - IV

Olympia - XIV, X, XX

Chogoris - I

Fenris - XVI

Inwit - X, XVI

Nostramo - VII, XIV

Baal - VIII

Medusa - III, V

=][= DELETED =][=

Nuceria - XIX, III, X

Macragge - XII

Barbarus - XIII

Prospero - XVIII

Cthonia - XX, I

Colchis - IX, VIII

Nocturne - VIII

Deliverance - XVI

Unknown Fleet - VI

 

 

Primarch - Homeworlds

Lion - Chogoris, Cthonia

=][= DELETED =][=

Fulgrim - Medusa, Nuceria

Perturabo - Chemos

Jaghatai - Medusa

Russ - Unknown Fleet

Dorn - Nostramo

Konrad Curze - Baal, Nocturne, Colchis

Sanguinius - Colchis

Ferrus Manus - Olympia, Inwit, Nuceria

=][= DELETED =][=

Angron - Macragge

Guilliman - Barbarus

Mortarion - Olympia, Nostramo

Magnus - Caliban

Horus - Deliverance, Inwit

Lorgar - Fenris

Vulkan - Prospero

Corax - Nuceria

Alpharius - Cthonia, Olympia

 

Edit: My beautiful table . . . I suppose it needs some re-working.

 

And done.

[Wade Garrett]

That's cold, bro

Just messing with you, dude.

I thought the background was quite all right, it's just the name that kept throwing me off.

[Brother Heinrich]

I'm gonna hold off on writing more background for Konrad Dominus (Baailte Curze) until after the vote. Took a good chunk of time to put that together, plus I don't have the motivation to touch the other Primarchs right now. If Baailte Curze wins out then I'll start putting out some of the juicy ideas I have regarding his tale.

[GhostMalone]

Well if I could write I'd contribute but I really can only provide pshyco analysis of each character

[Wade Garrett]

As I'm not quite crass enough to vote for my own ideas, I'll put in votes for Rogal Dorn of the Blackened Fists, Alpharius and Omegon of the Cerberus and Effrit, Leman Goldenbeard of the....did we ever find out what his Legion was? I said "Red Corsairs", but that was just because he's a space corsair who was wearing red in Cormac's snippet, and Sanguinus on Colchis.

[Brother-Sergeant Bohemond]

Harath Vel'ir, Drake-King of Nocturne, Primarch of the I Legion: Promethean Knights

 

It was during the Time of Trial that the capsule which contained the future King of Nocturne descended from the heavens. The blacksmith N'bel found the infant Primarch naming him Harath Vel'ir raising him as his own son. As time progressed Harath grew older and stronger quickly outstripping even the strongest adults around him. Working at his fathers forge he learnt the craft in the traditions of his people, although he would never be the greatest among them. Not disheartened by this he instead took up hunting in his spare time.

 

Nocturne was plagued by incessant Eldar raids, striking swiftly they would carry of anyone who had not hidden. The people of Nocturne had become adept at hiding from these raiders emerging when they had left and picking up what was left of their lives. Harath knew in his heart that these raids should be ended. He spoke to and gathered like-minded youngsters from his village, travelling to Mount Deathfire where they swore that together they would protect Nocturne. Returning home they found it under attack. Roaring with anger Harath threw himself at the raiders tearing through them and into the forge. Seizing two steel bars he hurled himself back into the fray sending and the Eldar fled.

 

With his victory the people of his village marvelled at the skill shown by Harath. Taking up the rods N'bel forged them into a pair of glittering swords, the first of their kind on Nocturne. Each of his fellow guardians forged their own blades before arming themselves with an assortment of weapons including Hammers, Axes and Bows. Leaving their village they travelled towards the first of the Sanctuary cities coming across several more raiding groups as they passed through villages bringing more young men into his following. As they defeated group after group their fame spread across Noctune with the name of Harath upon every lip. Reaching Hesiod, Harath was ushered into the presence of the ruler of that city and the delegates of all Nocturne. Speaking humbly and plainly he showed his vision of the people of Nocturne, united, and free from the privations of xenos raiders. A people which would work together for the common good of humanity to prosper even through the Time of Trial. Swayed by their fear of the xenos, Harath’s words resonated with the planets elders and they banded together to support him. The Pyre Guard, as his group had become known, swelled in numbers as he trained them in the art of war.

 

The Eldar refused to leave their slave pool so easily, determined to kill Harath. Striking swiftly they destroyed his home and killed N’bel. When word reached Harath his noble visage twisted in grief and rage. For seven days he stayed in the forge preparing his revenge. By setting himself out as bait, he drew out the Eldar. Strategically placed Pyre Guard swung in, as a hammer, upon the Anvil of Harath and his personal guards crushing the Eldar between the two. The battle culminated in a duel that is still told to this day between Harath and the Archon. Finally, Harath slammed both his swords into the chest of the Eldar leader killing him instantly. His victory marked the freedom of Nocturne from Eldar raids, upon his return to Hesiod he was crowned Drake-King of Nocturne.

Under his rule the world prospered, free from fear of attack and under the protection of the Pyre Guard the artistry of Nocturne blossomed. One day a stranger arrived at the Dragon Hall, seeking an audience with Harath. It is not known what passed between the two of them but the Primarch was reunited with his father and imbued with a vision of a united humanity, a humanity that would be freed from oppression, and those xenos who would raid them. He was united with his gene sons. led by Chapter-Master Astelan. Upon meeting them he renamed them the Promethean Knights. Those of the Pyre Guard who were young enough to take the geneseed were inducted into the Legion while the others received surgery, these would become the elite of the Knights, dedicated to protecting Nocturne and humanity.

 

Anyone can destroy.

 

Only a few can create. A Smith is such a creator, they take something you cannot use and turn it into something...you can. It's amazing to watch and do. Although...I was never very good at it. My father, ah, my adoptive father was. So instead, I protect those who are good at it.

 - Harath Vel’ir to Remembrancer Karacticus

 

---------

 

Here is my take on the Lion, trying to couple strategic genius in with a Nocturne background...is actually harder than I expected. As I wrote this, it felt more and more that his paranoia/distrust comes from nurture and less, perhaps, from nature. I went with him being raised in a loving background although he suffers from not being very good smith, although he is a superb warrior and general. Instead of the pride he develops on Caliban, his pride comes from those around him, from creation. Anyway, I hope this comes across and make of it what you will.

[Hyaenidae]

DELETED

[Noctus Cornix]

Legiones Astartes XIX, The Chain Sworn

“No, my Lord, I do not want this. Please, I have served with loyalty and honour. We could not have know the rebels housed Cyclonic Warheads. I will not fail you again. I beg of you, do not throw me to the Nails…”
- Final Coherent Words of Branne Nev, Commander of the Condors

When a Primarch is to be united with his sons, it is often thought of as a glorious thing, the reunion of kindred souls and the resurfacing of pride that will bring glory to the legion with the return of their long lost father. It is a sad and unfortunate thing that this could not be further from the truth in some cases. Upon the twisted and dying husk of Nuceria, the Tyrant Prince was returned to the Imperium he was born into. And by decree of his father, he was granted rule of his Legion, his sons. But as he stood before his army, a hundred thousand warriors strong in black armour standing firm and proud before their enthroned master, he did not see before him his children. In those dark eyes all he saw was slaves, a Legion of dutiful and unquestioning slaves who were bred and trained to never disobey. In unison, the assembled Legion knelt before their master, pledging their unswerving loyalty to he, the son of the Emperor and would fight in his name with their dying breath.

Yet this was not enough. Their affection and devotion would not satiate the God-son’s need for dominance. Rising from his throne in the grand chamber of his newly dubbed Capital ship ‘The Divine Right’, Primarch Corax stood before his Legion and spoke with utter conviction.

“Within your veins flows my blood, tainted by mortality and weakness. You are of my flesh but you are my own. I OWN YOU. You will prostrate yourselves before me, and you will accept the chains of bondage to prove your eternal servitude to my will. Remember this always and I may one day find use for you.”

And by the will of their Gene-Father, the Chain Sworn were born, castdown demi-gods in rusted red armour the color of Nuceria’s lifeless earth and bound in chains that laced across their entire bodies. The Chains were a symbol of their service to the Emperor and his cruel son, binding them to his will just as it bound their weapons to their hands. It was a sign for they were his eternal tools, weapons of war and nothing more. From here, Corax led his legion to the northern front away from his brethren, carving a path through sectors and bringing swift and brutal compliance to all who stood before them. Each world they visited was brought to the Imperium’s heel, as was the decree of the Emperor yet Corax could not simply leave it there. For each world he claimed, he enstated governors and generals most loyal to him, bleeding each planet dry of its resources and ensuring tithes were given directly to ensure the continuous flow of his war machine. While his brothers sought unification, Corax sought an empire, his own personal place within the galaxy carved in blood and money.

The doctrines of the Chain Sworn was to be very simply put as the ruthless rise of a callous nobleman. Brutality and cutthroat tactics were the bread and wine of the legion, relying both on overwhelming force of bolter and chainsword carving through masses in their blood-thirsty wake aswell as using shock tactics, hitting the enemy in their weak points, starving them out and depleting them of supplies before mercilessly closing in for the kill. It was a strange thing to see also that the Legion had a growing passion for the ruthlessness of more ‘civilized’ tactics. Diplomacy, blackmail, spies, trading, and backstabbing was commonplace to ensure rebellious world fell with little to no effort. Why storm the fortress when you can have those within tear each other apart all for the simple price of promising the place of governance to some gullible colonel. In short time, the Masters of the Chain Sworn were as bitter, and cunning as their Master, seeing those they once called brethren as nothing more than tools to ensure compliance was met and profit was maximized.

Failure amongst the Legion was perhaps a sentence far worse than any execution. Adopting the ways of his former homeworld, the Tyrant Prince perfected the art of the Butcher’s Nails, a cranial bionic hammered into the skull to turn a stern and silent warrior into a frothing and unstoppable berserker. From simple Initiate to Company Commander, the Primarch had turned this cruel act of barbarism into the Legion’s chief law. Those who failed into their duties were dragged to the blood-soaked Apothecarians and forced to accept the itching nails into their skulls. Now their life was nothing more than to be worthless attack dogs, thrown at the enemy where the fighting was thickest and expected to die in their Primarch’s name. Such was the fate of all who met the dissatisfaction of the cruel Primarch and these poor victims were often met with not but pitiless scorn from their brothers, seeing them only as failures, dogs, and a reminder of what awaited them should they themselves fail in their duty.

[Conn Eremon]

Not voting yet! When we do, we will do them one at a time. If later chosen invalidate earlier ones, we can hold a special election afterwards.

 

- - - - - - -

 

The silver wyrm roared with fury as the ragged man dodged its weighted blows again and again. Its anger and pain was clearly building, the man sensed. Hundreds of small blows, each struck with some discarded mechanical ruin as the weapon, were beginning to take its toll, just as the storm clouds gathered. The dragon known as Asirnoth had an hour past ceased its relentless offensive that had come so close to felling the man and was now attempting instead to elude its tormentor, crawling up the volcanic mountainside with speed no mortal and few machines could match, though this man was somehow neither and yet more. Gouts of metallic silver spurted from many of the beast's wounds, which the man was careful to avoid, lest it prove a defense mechanism designed to injure just as it is injured.

 

The man harried the creature towards its peak, striking with stone and metal at every opportunity, until, cornered upon the highest point, it turned once more. As lightning flashed across the night sky, it illuminated a titanic struggle of such ferocity that the mortals who witnessed below could only stumble to their knees in awe of the war of gods. The man, his own red blood flowing as greatly as the serpent's, tore from the jagged rocks a lengthy, shattered spar, the last remnants of some ancient edifice. As the curling dragon reared its head high to piledrive downward once more, straining to cast the strange individual to threaten its reign from the mountaintop, it met maw first with the sharpened edge of the mighty steel pillar. As the mechanical beast heaved and thrashed against this newfound torture, the man bellowed with rage and strain, bodily lifting the wyrm's body high into the night.

 

The screams grew in intensity from both god-like beings when the lightnings flashed, attracted to the upraised metal. The man's world turned a blinding white as bolt followed bolt, the intense energy flowing over him as the burning silver blood splattered his face, burning through his impressive reservoir of endurance until he could stand no more. The world went dark, and he felt nothing as his limp form tumbled down the mountain side, alongside the leviathan corpse of the world's foremost terror.

 

The man's eyes opened to see himself staring back at him, his bare body plain to see. Though he registered that he was surrrounded by an immense crowd of smaller beings who looked as he did, his eyes never wavered from the metal screen that cast his reflection back to him. His once unmarred body remained strong, the letter V that he had burned over his heart to remember his origin still there, already healed from the damages wreaked upon it. All wounds had healed but for one. Streaking across his skin, his veins were plain to see across his tanned skin, dark in color, like bolts of jagged lightning across his flesh. Grabbing a sharpened blade from a nearby tray, the man slid it across his forearm and watched as the purest silver poured out, before the wound closed mere moments later. It was then that he brought his gaze to the crowd surrounding him, realizing now their whispers as they built in force, until it became a shout.

 

"Fulgur Signifer!"

 

Lightning Bearer.

[Hyaenidae]

DELETED

[Conn Eremon]

Thanks. Looking forward to it.

[Hyaenidae]

DELETED

[Grimdarkness]

 

 

I,m magolhurst and you are?
I have no name.
Everyone has a name.
Not me.
Not yet. I,ll give you one then.
If you must.
Lion Lion'el jonson.
What dose it mean.
Lion is old cthonia for gift or package and El is the old name of the stars.
Gift from the stars?
Or package.
And jonson.
Jonson is a bastards name and since you have no family it's all you really need"

First meeting between grand master magolhurst Guardian of the Covenant and master of the raven wing and the infant primarch Lion El'jonson. 

It was bright whatever it was and it,s crash site of little import but the man that emerged from the crater would go on to become legend.

The gangs of Cthonia had fought over land and water on there world for hundreds of years that changed when he fell from the sky. Little more then an infant the first gangers to find the infant primarch thought him easy meat and one less mouth to feed much to there folly. Somehow the boy lived and Magon a leader of one of Cthonia lesser gangs took the boy into his home where the youngest of the gangers sons would name the primarch lion el,jonson. Magon did not keep the young lion hidden from inter gang conflict and the politics that could prevent war but when war came the boy magolhurst and the primarch exceled so much so that magon quickly found himself in commaned of half the gangs. Helping magon was the Lion and a inner sight that could read people. Twice it proved of import saving magons life.

The Lion and his adopted father may have brought the world to heel under there rule but for the night years after his fall from the heavens that halted everything the primarchs father had found him. Told of his fathers plans to unite all of humanity under his banner the lion was told of his gene sons and his brothers who had being stolen away. The primarch was asked to come with his father to learn and to take command of the 1st legio astarte. So it was that the young lion of Cthonia left his adopted birth world in the hands of the imperial machine.

Under his fathers and his fathers advisors the Primarch honed his skills in battle against the last hold outs to the emperors rule on terra. The lions ability to read a battle field would know no match but his ability to read people is what would set him apart. It is legend how upon meeting his brothers the primarch of the VI is perhaps best known he would find there fatal flaw. Why and how the lion found them lacking he never spoke of but his judgment would prove prophetic.

 

 

Should have killed the black hearted bastards the first time we meet.

 

Grand Master Ezekyle jonson. 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

"What would you name them these gene son,s of your's Lion'el.

"Dark Angel,s father if we are to be your angel's of death we are going to be the darkest of angel,s"

 

The founding parade of the first legion and there primarch lion'el jonson

My lord.

Wait torg they still have a minute to stand down.

I am aware my lord but there fleet well be in firing range in 30.

22 if I,m correct. Loken your good to go.

Yes my lord.

Torg little brother it was always going to come to this they knew it. I knew it. Now you know it.

When my lord?

The moment they hailed us. They where buying time to move there third fleet behind the sun to catch us from behind. 

3rd 4th and 5th wings break of and prepare to meet a fleet coming from the rear.

Belay that my brother well take care of them.

Brother lord?

Yes the glided VI. 

The wolfs ?

Yes the wolfs don't sneer like that father thought it would do us good to fight side by side find common ground. Bond over the broken cities and the dead of this world.

Well it.

We shall see little brother we shall see.

[Conn Eremon]

New rule: Put somewhere in the post the canon name of the Primarch, to avoid confusion. Beginning, end, whichever.

 

Heathens, that was the Khan. Since his name would be so different, I went with a tattooed V show it.

 

Edit: Though now that I think about it, it doesn't really need to be the Khan. Fulgrim works just as well, so would a number of others even. Can you imagine the ebony skin of Vulkan laced with hard lines of silver?