Nature vs. Nurture, the What If? edition

[Conn Eremon]

Double checked and yeah, those two plus the Khan of Nuceria. I'll edit them in. Sorry guys, I only have an hour's worth of internet other than my phone a day. Last time I had saved this thread's pages, 16 was the last full page and 17 had no submissions.

[Conn Eremon]

And edited. Please let me know if more was missed.

[Ace Debonair]

What an interesting table of results.

Which has also made me wonder 'what happens if Russ lands on Prospero?'

And accordingly, I think I know which Primarch/Planet combo to do next. I'll need some time to think this over though.

[no I'm alpharius]

He stared out of the windows, a sliver of blue peeked through the clouds, the hint of escape it promised only spoiled by the sheer cliffs that pinned him in like a bird in a cage. Doctore was explaining one of the finer points of siegecraft. Corax stifled a yawn. While physically greater than his peers, mentally, well, he was still a child. He had dreams of soaring through the sky, of seeing the great columns of hot air, of being more than his father's puppet.

 

The lesson went on for what seemed like ever, a discourse in angles and logistics that bored him. The wars between city states could be fought by lightning attacks, of plans, counter plans and counter-counter plans. It could be a great game, not this intolerable slog. If there was a wall in Olympia, then enough men thrown at it would bring it down, that was the mentality of this place. He had read tales of great heroes, of Troy and the horse that carried soldiers in her womb, of the great Reichsman Skorzeny, who flew to the highest mountaintop to rescue his master's ducks. Such things mattered not to Doctore. 

 

He looked out of the windows again, and dreamed...

[no I'm alpharius]

What if Angron was naturally anti-psyker, the nails just accentuated things, and landed on Prospero ....

 

"The scanners have picked up a shallow sea, plenty of signs that something lived here but nothing much ... Living" the officer read the information off the vast display. 

 

Konrad leaned back into his chair, resting his head on his right hand.

 

 

"We were told there was something here, you know how some of my brothers are with their nonsense." 'A million voices reaching out in terror' were Magnus' words. What he had seen was indistinct. Brass and bronze and steam and a relentless buzzing. 

 

"We've found someone"

 

-----

 

The lander sank two, maybe three feet into the viscous red ooze. Konrad stepped out and ran his hand through it, noticing lumps of solid matter. Realisation dawned with a chill. He could already hear his men gagging and vomiting. This was the population of Prospero. 

 

Ahead of him were the crumbling remnants of a tower, topped by a naked gargoyle. Red hair swept back from a face torn apart by rage and sadness. He turned and snarled at Konrad. 

 

"they were in my head"

 

Konrad let his claws drop from his gauntlets, as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

[High MarshalGR]

Since it has been mentioned that we should see which ones need more work, here is the current, unofficial list of completed works, from page 1 through 16:

 

It is true that we have some fan favorites that some of us are avoiding exploring further on when it comes to the Primarchs. Perturabo, Russ, Magnus, Russ and Guilliman have all been loudly lauded, but only have one home world. Now, if we come to the end and we just don't want to, I am fine appointing instead of putting them to election. But I would like us to try some new combinations to challenge these slots. Maybe we can't come up with something to topple them, or maybe we stumble onto something even better. Won't know until you try! And as the great master Yoda says, there is no try. But who are we to take advice from some dirty psyker? Have fun!

 

 

I'll go forward to make a Perturabo on Prospero concept and a Guilliman on Baal afterwards. First one will be up in about 10 hours after I'm home from work.

 

 

Angron was enslaved as a child and for lack of a better word brainboxed.

 

 

Dorn on whatever planet he lands is still a primarch.

 

And Nostromo Dorn would clearly not have the exactly the same moral code as main timeline Dorn.

 

Nostromo Dorns view of right and wrong would be might makes right .

 

And Dorn's main character strength is not his sense of right and wrong but his pure pigheaded unrelenting stubborness.

 

If Nostromo Dorn decides to take over a gang and then a city and then eventually the planet he will do it there will always be men willing to follow leaders  especially a primarch.

 

Nostromo Dorn would be an unyielding tyrant unwilling to accept a view other then his own view of what right and wrong is.

 

Still, 1000heathens worked for that. It is a "what-if?" scenario Godking. That means it is merely a different viewpoint of the Primarch evolving under different circumstances so he will probably keep some attributes to remain within his theme and lose some as well. One good idea is, if you really want to demostrate a different Dorn on Nostromo, go ahead and write it. Heathens story was nice, if you didn't like his Dorn interpretation write your own instead of presenting an argument without basis. It is an only fantasy what-if? scenarion, not the truth objectively. It is only logical there will be arguments, but it is a fantasy story for the fantasy universe of Warhammer 40K.

[FunkyMonkey]

I don't know if Nostraman moral codes is necessarily might makes right.  Among many of the criminals that became Night Lords Legionnaires, then certainly, might makes right.  However, we see Curze going on a psycho Batman vigilante spree before being picked up by the Emperor.  I think that at least for Curze, he very much had a strong moral code founded in justice, but he also believed in doing whatever it took to enforce that code.

[High MarshalGR]

I don't know if Nostraman moral codes is necessarily might makes right.  Among many of the criminals that became Night Lords Legionnaires, then certainly, might makes right.  However, we see Curze going on a psycho Batman vigilante spree before being picked up by the Emperor.  I think that at least for Curze, he very much had a strong moral code founded in justice, but he also believed in doing whatever it took to enforce that code.

 

I am a believer of the theory that supports that Curze suffers from birth from bipolar disorder. Since I am no expert on the subject though, here goes the scientific symptoms:

 

 

 

Signs and symptoms during depressive episodes

• A feeling of gloom, despair, and hopelessness
• Extreme sadness
• In severe cases, the patient will think about ending his/her own life, and will sometimes try to act on those thoughts.
• Insomnia and sleeping problems - difficulty falling asleep, or falling asleep and waking up during the night and then not being able to get back to sleep, or sleeping much more than usual. Some patients during this phase spend most of their time in bed.
• Anxiety - becoming anxious about trivial things.
• Guilt - a feeling that everything that goes wrong or appears to be wrong is their fault
• Eating patterns change, some people eat more, while others eat much less
• Weight loss or weight gain
• Extreme tiredness, fatigue, listlessness.
• Inability to feel pleasure with activities or interests that were usually enjoyed
• Low attention span. Some patients find it impossible to focus on anything
• Easily irritated, this could be triggered by noises, smells, tight clothing, and other things that would usually be tolerated or ignored
• Some patients are unable to face going to work or school; those that do typically underperform

 

Source: http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/37010.php

 

I think that covers most, if not all, of the issues Curze presents. I think thereoff one side of Curze is indeed just and moral, while the other thrives in the enviroment of Nostromo, the one that features "might is right". Half of him is just and righteous and his other half is murderous and violent. I have not found yet a better description. His dark visions since birth weren't actually helping him lol.

 

 Also, Batman never killed. He prosecuted criminals but never judged them himself. Watch Batman Beyond episode one. Batman had sworn never to use a gun against anyone, and it is iconic that the day he does he gives up the role of being Batman.

[Brother-Sergeant Bohemond]

Roboute Irabazi, Enforcer of Cthonia, Primarch of the XIII Legio: Sons of Irabazi

“With him, we will never lose”

 

-         First Captain Ezekyle Abaddon of the Sons of Irabazi, Captain of the Justaerin

 

They clashed across their world, another night, another fight in the turf war which had raged for so many years. This time the Justaerin were losing, but another night and they would take back the plaza. Although this fact was of little comfort to Hastur Durgast who had been tasked with ensuring the Daernan did not succeed here. As the two sides clashed in the darkness, as if drawn to look upwards, they marvelled at the bright light they saw in the sky. Closer and closer it came; suddenly they realised it was heading for the plaza itself. Scattering both gangs ran for it, the Justaerin making cover far sooner than their rivals. The crash threw almost all men of their feet sending them sprawling. Hastur, a solidly built figure staggered and nearly fell. As the smoke cleared he saw that something had struck the ground, not a meteorite but something metallic. He approached the casket shaped…thing…as the door slowly swung open. Inside was a male babe, larger than any he had seen, framed with black hair.

 

The arrival of the infant Primarch had ensured the Justaerin victory and he would be considered a talisman by them long into the future. He was taken back to the heart of the Justaerin gang with those who had seen his descent swearing that he would be their talisman of victory. He was named Roboute Irabazi, Roboute for that was the name inside the capsule and Ibrazai which was Cthonian for victory, and to Hastur fell the task of raising the babe in the art of Cthonian war. Like all Primarchs he matured fast, and the Justaerin soon realised what a valuable asset he was to them. Stronger, faster, better with any weapon than the rest he beat any who sparred with him yet he could also lead any group of gangers to victory. As his victories over their enemies increased so too did his own fame as well as the numbers of those who grew jealous of his achievements. It soon became apparent to the gang leadership that they could no longer keep Irabazi out of their councils; no-one wanted to fight unless it was under him or his personal blood brothers. The entire gang saw him as their talisman, their victor, their chance to rule Cthonia. And so it was he and Hastur were granted a place at the council.

 

In the Council at last, Irabazi spoke to them about a chance to unify Cthonia and to make a name for themselves, to end the incessant gang wars by bringing about a unity and allow Cthonia to develop into a productive world once again. Tarik Endoran stood against Irabazi and sneered at his ‘idealism’ saying that all he actually was was an enforcer, a ganger like the rest of them. Regardless of what proud military history the Justaerin may have once had in the long past that time was behind them. His words fell on minds fired up; those who in their hearts thought that perhaps under their rule they could change the lot for humanity, that their history might actually have something to offer them. Behind his calculating visage, Irabazi smiled as he saw his plans begin to bear fruit. Gesturing for silence the old patriarch of the Justaerin rose to his feet.

 

“I believe this. Legends say we were once the elite guards of Cthonia, the soldiers who protected and expanded our power. We fell out of necessity, to survive. Let us return to our greatness and you shall lead us.”

 

The Primarch refused to take over from him; the Justaerin would be ruled by their leaders as his time had not yet come. With the backing of the council Irabazi went to war. Gathering his forces he led them to war ensuring his units were the most well equipped, well lead force crushing all opposition.  Gang by gang they fell to his forces, none could match what was the most well oiled war machine seen on Cthonia since its fall. With the last gang crushed, the last gang leader executed and the last resistance ended he turned his mind to the rebuilding of Cthonia. It was at that point Tarik struck, murdering the Patriach and claiming the rule for his own. Irabazi returned back, despite orders to shoot him on sight not a single Justaerin would touch their talisman. He stormed into the high chambers of the Justaerin and without a word slammed his sword through the chest of Tarik. Turning to the Council he raised his voice: “I claim my right to be Patriach, I claim the lordship of Cthonia.”

 

Under his logistical mind Cthonia began to rebuild and so it was that the Emperor’s forces arrived on Cthonia. The first of his sons was rediscovered and he took to the Great Crusade leading his Justaerin into his new Legion, now named the Sons of Irabazi, striding at their head and so the talisman known as Victory would lead the Great Crusade forward.

[lokkorex]

Heathens i have a question, where is the fourths cold logic and lack of faith described in their index astartes in your chemosian iron warriors?

 

or have these "negative" traits been suppressed by Perturabos leadership and honour that he have come to embrace?

[Bryan Blaire]

Also, Batman never killed. He prosecuted criminals but never judged them himself. Watch Batman Beyond episode one. Batman had sworn never to use a gun against anyone, and it is iconic that the day he does he gives up the role of being Batman.

Don't use the term never with something like that.

 

In Batman #1, he kills a bunch of Hugo Strange's henchmen with a machine gun. "Much as I hate to take human life, I'm afraid this time it's necessary!" Batman shouts.

Not only is this but a single example of Batman killing (there are others - tossing them off tall buildings without much remorse, etc), but it is also an incident of him using a gun to do so (there are other examples of him using a gun in various situations, some on people, some just on objects or to get different results).

 

A single TV show doesn't cover all the Batman mythos over 60+ years.

[Ace Debonair]

Hmm. Not that good at writing Russ or Prospero, it turns out.

Oh well, here's the outline for what I had in case it gives anyone ideas.

-= Tyrfin the Thrice-Cursed, Master of Prospero =-

* Pod lands in an ancient tomb, people say the tomb's destruction is an ill-omen and name the child within Tyrfin after the tomb's owner to appease his angry spirit.

* Tyrfin grows up to be a fairly capable psyker and eventually becomes the wise and charismatic leader of Prospero, unmatched in wisdom or strength.

* The Emperor appears and Tyrfin refuses to surrender Prospero to him, challenging the Emperor to a battle of psychic power. Tyrfin pushes himself further than he ever has before and almost tears into the Warp, but the Emperor sees it and nullifies his efforts.

* Tyrfin is given a right telling off and is made to swear under a blood oath never to do that again, which he accepts willingly. But from this point on, he suffers from occasional bursts of incredible pain in his mind for metaphorically flying too close to the sun.

* His legion is still genetically unstable, but after a decade of long research and study with the Emperor's blessing, Tyrfin finds a way to stabllize them.

* Tyrfin sometimes makes some questionable calls at the head of his legion, occasionally convinced that people on the enemy side are trying to cause the pains and voices in his head and immediately over-reacting.

* When the Great Atrocity comes about, Tyrfin is going to suffer a lot. First the efforts made to stabilize his legion will fail, and almost half of them become monsters somewhere between Wulfen and Possessed.

* Second, he's going to be accused of sorcery and attacked by some of his more anti-psyker/paranoid/zealous brothers, delete as appropriate. The conflct can stop before it goes too far or not as appropriate.

* Third, he's going to be killed somewhere during/after the Atrocity by someone and a Daemon's going to use his corpse as a puppet, turning his Legion to Chaos fully and damning them forever.

I actually think Russ would do awesomely on Prospero, more or less. But I also think that would be a pretty dull story if he just becomes Blonde Magnus, so I thought I'd add some tragedy to spice things up a little.

EDIT:

Typo. My bad.

[Saa]

I had intended to write up Lorgar of Nostromo. But after agonising over the details, I didn't want to detract from the Nostroman Dorn, which is a favourite so far. So, I humbly present a small take on Lycaen Lorgar.

 

The child was found in a mangled pod, deep in Mineshaft 14DW. Spirited away by the workers and hidden in the hab-complex, out of sight of the ever watchful eyes of the Kiavahran slavers.

 

Though he was only given shares of the already meager rations allocated to the mining slaves, the infant grew at an exponential rate. Within months he was stronger and in better shape than the ex mercenaries that had been exiled to this hellish moon.

 

They called him Logar Spero meaning 'of the Voice' as he mastered Low Gothic with ease and spoke with such clarity and conviction that any hearing him felt enthralled by his very words.

 

From an early age, Lorgar insisted upon working alongside his adopted brethren in the mines. Refusing to allow the very people that took him in to toil alone. The slaver guards never noticed another slave though a few spied the steely look of resentment when punishment was given to those not working hard or fast enough.

 

In the evenings, Lorgar would deliver great speeches, decrying the treatment of the slaves and passions would flare and shouts of agreement would echo. But fear of the retribution of the heavily armed Kiavahran guards quoshed any action. Until the day Lorgar himself moved......

 

A boy child, born into slavery, knowing nothing of the freedom taken for granted by so many, was mercilessly gunned down by a guard, for daring to meet the gaze of the Kiavahran. Lorgar, a calm and rational man, broke his chains and throttled the slaver where he stood. Enough was enough. These slaves would suffer no more.

 

Whilst he was no strategist or tactician, to underestimate the spark that his words had ignited in the oppressed denizens of Lycaeus was a mistake the slavers would barely have time to rue.

 

The spark, now fanned into a raging inferno caused man, woman and child to rise up and follow the example of Lorgar Spero. The death of the child was the final straw. The colony erupted as mobs of slaves armed only with tools and the burning words of Lorgar drove deeper into the complex butchering every Kiavahran they encountered. Within days, the moon belonged to the men and women of Lycaeus. Turning to Lorgar for guidance, the representatives of the ex slaves begged on bended knee for him to take up the mantle of leadership amongst them.

 

"Rise, no man shall bend their knee to me. We are all equal here and I shall not become a master to any. Man is free and liberty is precious. We shall do this together", said Lorgar.

 

When the Emperor arrived on Lycaeus he was astonished to find an organised mining colony, stockpiling rare minerals whilst the planet below was tearing itself apart from lack of supply.

 

The Emperor greeted his son and explained his vision to mankind, and Lorgar wept with joy knowing that his father shared the same ideals of freedom and liberty. This was no tyrant ruler of humankind. A benevolent father, uniting the species to be free from oppression. When the Imperial Truth was explained to him, his love and adoration of his father knew no bounds. This was a concept he could have unshakeable belief in.

 

When reunited with the XVII legion, his Word Bearers, Lorgar insisted that as many of the original Lycaen slaves were brought into the ranks as possible. The legions first action was to bring the forge world of Kiavahr into Adeptus Mechanicus protection, thus earning him the gratitude of this powerful body. He renamed the moon where he was first found 'Deliverance' and used it as a base of operations for the legion.

 

Throughout The Great Crusade, the Word Bearers and their primarch became known for their diplomatic approach to bringing lost worlds back to the fold, and for mercilessly crushing any regimes that enslaved their populations. They represented freedom and liberty in the name of the Imperial Truth, and they knew no fear.

 

*********************

 

Amateurish I know, but I wanted to have a crack at how I saw Lorgar believing in something that wasn't theological.

 

Saa

 

......or something like that

[Wade Garrett]

 

The Emperor greeted his son and explained his vision to mankind, and Lorgar wept with joy knowing that his father shared the same ideals of freedom and liberty. This was no tyrant ruler of humankind. A benevolent father, uniting the species to be free from oppression.

 

And people say OTL Lorgar was a sucker for the first sorta deity like beings to take notice of him.....

[Saa]

 

 

The Emperor greeted his son and explained his vision to mankind, and Lorgar wept with joy knowing that his father shared the same ideals of freedom and liberty. This was no tyrant ruler of humankind. A benevolent father, uniting the species to be free from oppression.

 

 

And people say OTL Lorgar was a sucker for the first sorta deity like beings to take notice of him.....

Many thanks for the constructive criticism.

 

Whilst it is in no way fleshed out, one could assume that at that point it has been explained to Lorgar his place in the Imperium of man and who/what the Emperor represents in terms of reunification etc. After only existing in a slave colony and fanning the fires or rebellion, I don't think it's too far a stretch to see Lorgar weeping with joy?

 

Maybe I should have had his jaw cut off or something to provoke the tears brother....

 

Saa

 

....or something like that

[Balthamal]

After literally spending two hours reading every last line of text in this thread I'll have a go myself. I'll state here at the outset that there is absolutely no chance this will come out trumps against the incredible Dorn The Haunted but it's the idea I got first and I'll just roll with it. Here goes Sanguinius on Nostromo. Also a /bow in the direction of ADB for Prince of Crows which inspired this.

 

 

Sanguinox,The Wraith, Lord of the Bloody Gloom

Primarch of the IX Legiones Astartes

 

 

 

"Every action has it's consequence just as every life has it's death. There are only two exceptions to this: the dark in which we are forced to live and the blood, mmm there is always the blood" - Sanguinox, vox fragment from the beginning of the Nostromo Purification

 

The infant crawled along the rocky ground, wincing every now and again as a spatter of molten metal from the pod behind him landed on his previously unblemished flesh. Everything was so dark, where was the light, the life of this place? On tottering legs he climbed to his feet and turned back to look at the cradle that had brought him here. Whatever shape it had been originally was now gone, it's former contours either melted or broken off altogether. Slowly, oh so slowly, he looked back through the opening he had pulled himself through, every inch of the interior drenched in fresh red vitae. On an instinctive level he knew he should be revolted by it, but there was something tantalizing about being immersed in the coppery sweetness. He also noticed there was an itch between his shoulders yet he lacked any means to see what was causing it.

 

Turning away he looked towards a faint glow on the horizon, seeing for the first time spires reaching up into the deeper darkness of the sky. The first expression to spread across his beautiful face was almost subtle enough to miss, in the twilight of a world wreathed in eternal shade, his eyes, blue as ice, brightened. Hope. There would be others like him in the artificial light. Slowly but steadily he walked purposefully towards the city, tiny angelic wings, growing slowly from his back.

 

 

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

 

 

It never stopped. Gunfire. Screaming. Tears. The only laughter he ever heard was mocking or cruel or both. That he did not understand why only made the pain worse. His tears ran down his cheeks, making fresh rivulets through the grim and filth covering his face. Why would they do this to each other? He had asked himself the question a million times but no answer ever came to him. They had laughed at him, hurt him, hunted him, all for pleasure or simply because they could and no one would ever stop them. His skin, once flawless and pale like marble was now the white of a corpse, crossed and crisscrossed thousands of times over with scars from knives, from guns, from lho-sticks, chains, anything the lawless gangs happened to have to hand when they came upon him. His wings were similarly ruined, their beautiful feathers torn out and only growing back in the shape of diseased skin.

 

Only one had shown him kindness and rekindled his guttering hope into a blazing inferno. He did not know anything about her except she had passed the alley where he whimpered to himself from the pain of his latest wounds. Stooping she had smiled at him, wiping away his tears and speaking in a tongue he couldn't understand before taking him by the hand and leading him away. They had walked less than a few minutes before a gang came upon them, taking they clubs to him and leaving him a bloody mess again, unable to do anything but weep all the more as they dragged the unknown woman into another nearby alley before beating her and cutting her throat. It had taken all of the willpower he possessed to crawl to her corpse and plant a kiss on her cold lips and she even more tears at the senselessness of this world.

 

 

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

 

 

He had changed now, in more than just his appearance. He stood taller than the tallest of them, his eyes now the dark of the void in a face that wouldn't have looked out of place in the darkest nightmares in a city of decay. He understood their tongue, hunger and thirst finally forcing him to drink the blood of the dead, before he had grown strong enough to kill his own victims and take from them whilst their were still warm. It was the blood that invigorated him, it gave him power. He started to experience vivid dreams where he could see the actions of anyone around him hours before they happened and make his plans around this unique foresight. Nobody could catch him anymore either. His wings, bat-like and powerful, could carry him into the darkness above even the tallest spires, making his lair among them. He had finally crushed his hope, realizing that although these people were capable of change, they would not act on their own, putting the benefit of the species above their own selfish desires or self preservation. Couldn't they understand that the safety of the herd was paramount? What matters a few die to ensure the survival and prosperity of the many. In his blackest moments he also admitted to himself that keeping to his ideal of a better world through appealing to their humanity would only drive him further into self-destructive fury, there could be no true despair without hope, and a harbinger of change such as him could not succumb to despair.

 

He would begin soon, his great plan to impose the change upon the people of this world that they were incapable of enacting themselves. He had learned what they desired, what they feared and he would exploit them to the full extent he could. But he first he needed to feed. And send a message.

 

 

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

 

 

There was art in terror. A beauty he had never appreciated before because he had been afraid to sink too deeply into it. Such reservations were long gone, washed away in the tide of blood he had unleashed upon the world of Nostromo. The lowly street gangs had almost to a person, thrown away their weapons and removed any symbol affiliating them with crime, in some cases even removing limbs covered in gang-ink or taking a hot brand to the torso. Now, a gang was a death sentence. The peace was almost unnerving. yet the organised criminals still persisted. They did not grasp what was truly occurring, thinking he merely meant to see them fall and take their places. Fools, such poor deluded fools to miss the most obvious of his many revelations; he meant for no-one to take their place. Any who might rise would meet the same fate as those who had come before.

 

They had given him a name now. Clinging to childish notions that by naming their terror could help them confront it and defeat it. He could not be defeated. There could be no escape from him. The last syndicate he had wiped from the face of the world had tried to buy his allegiance, to use his power to ensure they inherited supremacy when the blood stopped. He smiled at that thought anew, lips slicing themselves open on the fangs that had once been teeth, teasing him with the potency of his own blood. They didn't, wouldn't, understand, the blood would simply not stop flowing. Always would be those who would seek to rise in the place of the downfallen, and more lessons would be needed. Such a cycle was a sad indictment of the people of this world but he would not shirk his duty, that as a superior being to those fighting in the mud he would be the one to drag them screaming into a semblance of civilization, or screaming their graves.

 

Sanguinox The Wraith hoisted the last of the bodies onto the latest spire. Every building in every direction for 5 miles from the center of the city sported 10 such, each bearing 10 bodies impaled upon them, drained of blood.

 

 

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

 

 

There was no more hunting. The gangs were a distant memory. 64 Years since he publicly slaughtered forty thousand gathered in the Cathedral of Ionia, acclaiming the life of one of the cities foremost politicians, a politician who had in his years of office beat, tortured and murdered more than three hundred people and used his position to cover his crimes. His death had been the most beautiful artwork Sanguinox had created. Every day for a year he had murdered and fed on one of the killer's kin, drinking every drop of their blood and leaving their flayed skulls on the steps of his palace and when the fool had drunk himself unconscious to escape his terror he had followed him into his dreams, bathing him in insanity blasting visions of torment and horror so that eventually he threw himself from the tallest tower of the building, into the waiting embrace of the Wraith. His death, broadcast across the whole world had last 5 nights, every scream indelibly marked on the ever shrinking population.

 

Half of the hives were merely ruins now, people simply chose not to bring children into the twilight of misery and fear that their world had become. They merely went about their jobs, night by night, and returned quietly to their habs when it was time. The only concession to the dark daemon who had bathed their world in death was the formation of special facilities where blood could be donated for Sanguinox to feed. For the first time in thousands of years, peace reigned over the world. 

 

 

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Anubis was the first of the brothers to set foot on the surface, ripples of psychic trauma lapping against his aether senses, it seemed as if the screams were sunk into the rocks themselves. "I don't like this brothers, there is something not right with this whole world" he voxed before removing his helm. Lorgar merely grunted in reply. 

 

"You needed your cursed warp sight to see that? Open your eyes brother and that would have been apparent to you before we even left orbit" He stamped down the ramp, Hearthguard already drawn hefted in his fist, "Father has spoken, and we obey. Now convergence pattern Lupus."

 

Anubis bowed his head in the direction of his older brother "Complience," he said and moved off to the Eastern side of the great plaza.

 

Roboute grinned, "You take the South brother,"

 

"You take the North, just like the old days," Lorgar finished their ritual pre-battle greeting. It sat ill with him that this was a potential conclusion to what should have been a joyous occasion. But chances could not be taken. The group moving away from the shuttle saw to that. On any other Imperial World virtually the whole population would have been crammed into this plaza just for a glimpse at a son of the Emperor, let alone six of them gathered in one place at one time.

 

Angron remained solemn as he descended the shuttle, his expression unhappy at such a turn of events. However Lorgar could still see the embers of his killing fury in his eyes, waiting to be released from his iron self-control.

 

Perturabo was equally grave "He is our brother Cleft-Jaw, have you forgotten that? Why are Six of us here for this?"

 

Lorgar sighed, acknowledging Perturabo's point. He may have been made of iron but he was a humble soul and he held affection for all of his brothers, even those that remained yet undiscovered. "I have not forgotten he is our kin, but neither am I inclined to ignore our Father's warning that his is a troubled soul. We are merely to make sure that he doesn't do himself any injury"

 

"Or us," said Konrad, joining them as they walked slowly across the plaza. "This whole planet is too quiet. Where are the people even?"

 

Roboute provided an answer for them. "Brothers, come here, now." Roboute was an inward looking person at the best of times but even this seemed a touch obtuse.

 

Once they reached the Northern side of the plaza the meaning became all too apparent. In a silent line, stretching many hundreds of meters, was a crowd of people all waiting to enter a building marked with a giant tear drop stained red. Even with six demi-gods approaching, they remained silent with their eyes fixed firmly to the floor. All six Primarchs stood in stupefied silence as one by one they went in, and emerged moments later, holding bandage to the crook of their elbows.

 

Angron was the one to voice what they were all thinking. "He takes their blood in tribute? What kind of monster is this?"

 

Anubis had his eyes closed as he replied; "It is not a tribute brother, it is sustenance. Our father was correct, a troubled soul indeed"

 

A piercing shriek echoed around the plaza, every man, woman and child began screaming and tried to force their way into the blood bank, some were even trying to open their veins outside in the street.

 

Lorgar and his brothers looked on appalled. "This has to end," he said. "Perturabo, take point towards that large building in the centre, Angron, rear guard, Anubis, Konrad, with me. If he is half of what he should be, he'll realize we are the threat here and come for us, not these people."

 

Perturabo led them at a sprint towards the large building, noting how it almost looked like an old building of worship. Ironic, he thought, given we have what appears to be a daemon chasing us. He crashed through the doors and spun, leveling his pistol to cover his brothers.

 

They all heard Angron's cry of pain and stared almost breathlessly at the gouge carved into his face as he staggered through the splintered remains of the door. His cheek opened to the bone did nothing to add to his restraint. He began to bellow for the fool to face him. Anubis suddenly turned around, noting how dark the building was becoming.

 

"Be alert brothers, this darkness is unnatural, probably warp crafted," he advised as he drew his heqa staff.

 

"Wonderful more witchery," spat Lorgar, remember, we have to avoid harming him.

 

They formed a circle, every brother covering the back of the other. Konrad stepped close to Angron, flexing his oversized claws, waiting. With the rushing of enormous wings, the creature dived. Right into Konrad's waiting grasp. Perturabo and Roboute grabbed him and dragged him to the floor whilst Lorgar voxed to the waiting ship in orbit "We have him father, teleport on my location"

 

Angron raised an eyebrow at Konrad and said merely "You knew"

 

Konrad smiled gently in return before the white mist of teleportation seized them in its embrace, "Of course, I saw it"

 

 

Apologies for this enormous wall of text but I couldn't quite decide how to break it down and didn't want bits n pieces scattered everywhere. Please feel free to pick it apart and critique it as you will.

[Saa]

A joy to read!

 

Especially seeing Primarchs working together like a strike team.

 

Original and well executed. I tip my hat to you Sir.

 

Saa

 

....or something like that

 

Edit: Gree's Colchisian Angel was and still is a personal favourite as he's a classic 'fallen angel' almost Luciferian but this was very good.

[godking]

 

Angron was enslaved as a child and for lack of a better word brainboxed.

No idea what you mean by 'brainboxed', but no. One twist, and he could have been a King of Nuciera

 

 

Dorn on whatever planet he lands is still a primarch.

And angron wasn't? Curze wasn't? Dorn was no more born thinking of himself as a primarch, than you or I thinking of ourselves born thinking we are human. If you were told the sky is green your whole life, you would think the sky was green. It's about their upbringing, and how they think of themselves.

And Nostromo Dorn would clearly not have the exactly the same moral code as main timeline Dorn.

Have you read my short story a few pages back? Because the Dorn I wrote most definetley did NOT have the same morals. I suspect you only read the blurb we're discussing right now, that you first highlighted

Nostromo Dorns view of right and wrong would be might makes right .

Your opinion. Not Fact. I followed the line that he is broken, mentally and physically, from a childhood of torture and abuse from a people who treated him like a freakshow. It's not about Might or Right for my vision of Dorn, it's clarity or lies.

And Dorn's main character strength is not his sense of right and wrong but his pure pigheaded unrelenting stubborness.

As defined by what? Was he really born with that? I think not, personally. No offence, but you're not thinking out of the box; Saying the word "Stubborn" means Dorn, is like saying "metal" means Car. A core element does not make a person.

If Nostromo Dorn decides to take over a gang and then a city and then eventually the planet he will do it there will always be men willing to follow leaders especially a primarch.

Why would he? How do you know? The people of Nostromo wouldn't listen to Curze, and forgot him less than a generation later. Would they really listen to the scarred, drugged, mentally unstable slave-child with the useless morals that no one uses?

Nostromo Dorn would be an unyielding tyrant unwilling to accept a view other then his own view of what right and wrong is.

Glad you think so. That's your vision, so write a story on it. Instead of telling me MY OPINION is wrong.

Angron was almost immediattly fitted with the Butchers nails  severly curtailing his ability for long  term clear thinking.

 

its not about Dorn knowing he is a primarch even the weakest primarch is far beyond a normal human in both physical and mental capacity.

 

And how exactly would Dorn be captured ? following the the story that Dorn lands on Nostromo and is'nt found there is no more scenario of a childhood Dorn being captured then Curze being captured.

 

Dorn is found by a gangleader ? Nostromo Dorn eventually kills or succeeds the gangleader taking over the gang and eventually the planet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dorn of Nostromo  the king of fists looked over the legion that he would soon lead in to battle in the name of his father reminiscing the  about the hard path that he followed to get there . From the moment that he landed on Nostromo studying the chaos and disorder on the planet until he chose to killthe local street king and take over his gang giving his followers  a choice between following him in or following their former leader in death. renaming his gang the fists of Dorn he would go on to lead his gang into brutal streetwars for control of the city.  After two years of brutal urban warfare the other gangleaders where killed or forced to swear fealty to the rule of the one rapidly becoming known as the fist king. Dorn conquest of the city culminated in the deposing of what little legal goverment there was in the city and setting himself up as lord of the city imposing his iron rule upon the city.

 

After the conquest of his city years of brutal warfare and insurrections followed for control of the planet which ended as it must in victory for the fist killing of the prvious rullers as was his custom Dorn imposed a brutal rule of order as he saw hunting down all who would dare even speak against him.

 

Unfortunatly for the other nearby planets Dorns hunger for conquest and imposing his order did not stop at Nostromo soon after his conquest of Nostromo  Dorn set his sights on the other planets who until that moment had traded with Nostromo. Years of brutal planetary conquest followed Dorn suspecting insurrection should he leave Nostromo tookt with him those he suspected would rise against him in his absence knowing from years of fighting insurrections against his rule that it was better to keep ones enemies as close as possible.

 

After years of prutal planetary conquest where Dorn took care to send those whom he supected most of treason into the most difficult and dangerous conflicts slowly culling them. Dorn conquered his sector imposing his rule on those who would challenge him.

 

What followed where years of brutal oppression and ironically advancement as the sector was ruled by the laws of the Fist King.

 

15 years into his reign of the sector and 70 years since he first took control of his city The Emperor arrived in the sector both impressed and dismayed by the rule of Dorn the emperor gave Dorn the leadership of his legion a position which Dorn Dorn eagerly as now he had the chance to bring order to an unruly galaxy as he had done to his sector.

 

Soon the galaxies denizens would shiver in fear at the mention of the fists of Dorn and the brutal order that they would bring.

 

Reminiscing over his past battles Dorn looked forward in teaching the Angron the the Gladiator King the meaning of order he would force Angron to stop fitting him men with the Butcher's Nails one way or another it mattered not that the emperor had not given him permission to bring Angron into the fold the only thing that mattered that he knew that he was in the right in bringing Angron to heel.

 

Soon Angron and his ''world eaters'' would arrive and he would bring them to heel one way or another as he had always done.

 

Lord Dorn !!! cried his champion sigismund the World eaters are here !

 

And so it begins mused Dorn..

[Kol Saresk]

Okay, so now there are two Nostramo Dorns.

[Ace Debonair]

Okay, so now there are two Nostramo Dorns.

Each more identical than the last!

...This way to the door, was it?

[Wade Garrett]

Maybe I should have had his jaw cut off or something to provoke the tears brother....

Saa

....or something like that

"We fight to silence anyone that dares draw breath and whisper a different opinion from ours. We fight because the Emperor wants every world in his hands. All he knows is slavery, painted in the inoffensive cloak of compliance. The very notion of freedom is a horror to him."

A Primarch describes the Great Crusade

 

Really, neither abolitionist Lorgar or canon Corax swooning over Big E's vision for the galaxy makes a lick of sense. Did both you guys not notice every ship in your Space Dad's fleet is crewed by press ganged slaves? Did you miss that the weapons and armor you bear were crafted by human beings lobotomized into cyborg thralls?

 

And the bottom of Lorgar's face was cut in half to make him awesome. Consider. The First Heretic. Lorgar has no scars, and does nothing much except get beat up by Corax. In Betrayer he has scars, and he kills Titans with his mind while wrestling Contemptor Dreadnaughts barehanded. Take most of his lower jaw off and LOOK OUT, GALAXY!

[Kol Saresk]

So basically Lorgar's super-power is masochism? Huh. Looks like Fulgrim has competition.

[lokkorex]

Balthamal: that was a pure pleasure to read!

[Wade Garrett]

So basically Lorgar's super-power is masochism? Huh. Looks like Fulgrim has competition.

Well, Dorn likes to end every day with a relaxing session of searing agony in the Pain Glove, stabbing and shooting Angron just makes his axes choppier, and Ferrous Manus got superpowers sticking his hands in lava...

[Kol Saresk]

Fair point.