Legion Smack Talk Thread

[Iron Father Ferrum]

It is the one unassailable truth of the universe that everything dies.  I'd have rather that my gene-sire had lived that day of course, but at least he died fighting.  Some of you utilize the artificial construct of "honor" to rationalize behavioral patterns; if so, then consider that Ferrus died honorably rather than running away in the face of danger.  To insult his memory is to insult his Legion, and I will cross blades with any Astartes that chooses to do so.

 

And you continue to make the illogical argument that only Ferrus himself had the possible outcome of killing a Traitor Primarch.  If the XVIIIth and XIXth had followed the plan as he did, it is entirely possible that Vulkan and Corax could also have exacted such bloody vengeance on the enemy.  After all, did not the Raven cross blades with two of his brothers, and run from that fight?  Yes, all three of them could have been lost instead of two -- yes, two, for where now is Vulkan?  Even his sons do not know! -- but if they had managed to kill two or three enemy Primarchs, would the cost not have been worth it?  Imagine if Corax had ended Lorgar when he had the chance, or if Vulkan's hammer had put down the mad dog Angron.  Would their sacrifice have been in vain?  I hardly think so.

[Leif Bearclaw]

Excuses, excuses Traitor, your Warmaster kept you back because he was afraid. Afraid that he'd already misjudged his treachery. Too many of your erstwhile brothers proved true to the spirit of the Luna Wolves and bled you hard on Istvaan III. Horus could not match his sons against the fury of the Gorgon, Raven and Salamander, for they would suffer through another Istvaan meat grinder, leaving his vaunted Sons broken and useless for his ongoing war. He thought it better to let his brothers in treachery bleed instead.

[Memento Of Prospero]

Aye, this true our father lost his head. If the Gorgon had the chance to do it all over again, he would not hesitate to go down the same path. The Iron Tenth does not yield. We do not bend. We are relentless. We face our enemies with grim determination. War is to kill or be killed.

 

By pushing onward, Ferrus took the opportunity to cripple another legion and disrupt the already frail leadership of Horus's rebellion. He knew it was is duty to try and did so with the fires of righteousness burning in his heart.

 

What have Corax and Vulkan gained from leaving their brother in the dust?

 

Vulkan only survived because he is a deathless abomination. He would have had an ending unfitting of a Primarch. Shamefully bombarded while abandoning is sworn brother a brother he loved. Those who live by the sword should die by the sword. Withdrawl left his legion crippled by uncertainty and fainted hearts.

 

Corax is so ravaged by guilt that he no longer allows his wounds to heal. he is but an empty shell, a shadow of the former Primarch he was. He knows he stained is honour with his cowardice. He might as well have died on the sands of Isstvan finishing off Lorgar, for the Emperor's secret technologies might still be in loyalist hands... Flesh is weak and the bird carrion who feast on it grow weaker still!

 

No other legion can boast to match the character and devotion to the cause of the Imperium of the Iron Tenth. We fought to the bitter end in defiance of our enemies. We did not give them the satisfaction of hunting us down like prey. Instead of wimpering like old women at the death of our sire, we fought back with tooth and nail for every inch of ground. We are bloodied but unbowed. Horus and his filth will find us at every turn defiant and unforgiving.

 

Who else can claim such tenacity? the answer is simple brothers... No one.

[Daemon2027]

Excuses, excuses Traitor, your Warmaster kept you back because he was afraid. Afraid that he'd already misjudged his treachery. Too many of your erstwhile brothers proved true to the spirit of the Luna Wolves and bled you hard on Istvaan III. Horus could not match his sons against the fury of the Gorgon, Raven and Salamander, for they would suffer through another Istvaan meat grinder, leaving his vaunted Sons broken and useless for his ongoing war. He thought it better to let his brothers in treachery bleed instead.

The opposite is true, the Warmaster was holding back his most powerful piece, holding it in reserve for the long war to come. He knew his brothers forces could face the emperors lackeys and didn't see reason to unleash his most powerful weapon. And yes, we were made to bleed on Istvaan III, but were fighting our own, it could not end any other way. That was the hardest fight we will face in this war, and we won it.

[Castiel]

It is the one unassailable truth of the universe that everything dies.  I'd have rather that my gene-sire had lived that day of course, but at least he died fighting.  Some of you utilize the artificial construct of "honor" to rationalize behavioral patterns; if so, then consider that Ferrus died honorably rather than running away in the face of danger.  To insult his memory is to insult his Legion, and I will cross blades with any Astartes that chooses to do so.

 

And you continue to make the illogical argument that only Ferrus himself had the possible outcome of killing a Traitor Primarch.  If the XVIIIth and XIXth had followed the plan as he did, it is entirely possible that Vulkan and Corax could also have exacted such bloody vengeance on the enemy.  After all, did not the Raven cross blades with two of his brothers, and run from that fight?  Yes, all three of them could have been lost instead of two -- yes, two, for where now is Vulkan?  Even his sons do not know! -- but if they had managed to kill two or three enemy Primarchs, would the cost not have been worth it?  Imagine if Corax had ended Lorgar when he had the chance, or if Vulkan's hammer had put down the mad dog Angron.  Would their sacrifice have been in vain?  I hardly think so.

I will say it now, for all of his true sons know it: Vulkan Lives. The same cannot be said for the Gorgon, killed because he was too stubborn to fall back. And yet you sons of the Tenth seem to glory in this failure, as if the loss of your gene-sire is something to take pride in. Both you and he failed, and nearly caused the destruction of two other Legions and their Primarchs because of it.

[Wade Garrett]

The Emperor aimed to hide knowledge of these so called "Gods" so that weak-minded fools like the traitor legions would not fall to their taint. He even chastised that whelp Lorgar for worshipping him, and you say he sought to become a god? I laugh at such a foolish notion. We do not seek to prevent mankind from evolving, but aim to make the stars safe for them to do so in. As for this "evolution" you speak of. It is not evolution, it is mutation and damnation through a power you do not truly understand and it has twisted your minds and souls. Poisoned is the chalice of "evolution" you have drunk from, and suffering and pain is all that your folly has wrought.

And what would you know of the Emperor's aims in constructing His so called "truth"? You, who wear the skins of beasts to gain their strength, and ask their spirits to provide you with moral guidance?

 

You, who burn and scar yourself in pagan rituals to honor the cleansing power of flame?

 

Your Promethean Cult is an anathema to the Emperor's grand deception as the words of Russ and the Khan's shamans, or our faith.

 

And since we speak of my Legion's faith...aye, the Abomination you grovel before buried our creed beneath the pyres of the innocent dead at Monarchia.

 

And all the while he proclaimed himself Omnissiah of the Machine God of Mars, and turned the faith of billions into idolatry of his own image!

[Iron Father Ferrum]

And here at last we find the truth of the Tenth's superiority: even the Emperor, father to us all, aspired to the machine. Ave Omnissiah.

[Sheesh Mode]

Prudence does not imply compliance Iron Hand. 

[BassWave]

I agree, Sons of Lorgar, that the Emperor was not perfect. It only proves that he was a man despite his godly appearance. That fact only makes his successes greater. The Emperor did make mistakes, however. How else do you explain the creation of the XVII?

[Soldier of Dorn]

Ha!

Logic, planning, all this is for the weak, Iron Hand.

Your legion allegiance, your primarch's identity, all this matters naught to the bloody Twelveth, for you shall all burn before our blades.

In the immortal words of Centurion Calodain Vuhn of our 64^th  company's Terminator Squads-

"Blood and flame.. 'tis all that is eternal. Blood. Flame. Death. Ruin. All else fades, but these things shall for a hundred millennia and forever more."

[BassWave]

Ha!

Logic, planning, all this is for the weak, Iron Hand.

Your legion allegiance, your primarch's identity, all this matters naught to the bloody Twelveth, for you shall all burn before our blades.

In the immortal words of Centurion Calodain Vuhn of our 64^th company's Terminator Squads-

"Blood and flame.. 'tis all that is eternal. Blood. Flame. Death. Ruin. All else fades, but these things shall for a hundred millennia and forever more."

Behold brothers! This son of Angron has been able to sustain control long enough to formulate semi coherent sentences!

 

It was truly a shame that your father was found. Your legion was once made up of noble warriors. Men that the X would have proudly fought beside. Now look at you. You were so desperate to know your father, that when you found that enslaved, manic wretch, you chose to look past his brokenness instead of putting him out of his misery like the rabid dog he is. Worse yet, you chose to mutilate your minds to better understand him.

 

As a result, your combat effectiveness plummeted alongside your self control and life expectancy. Now your legion is forced to cut corners when recruiting. Taking in men that would not make the cut in any other legion out of desperation to keep your legacy alive.

 

Normally I would be offended by accusations of weakness, but your legion's plight is so pitiful it makes me gag in disgust instead.

 

If your legion hadn't partaken in the atrocity at Istvaan, I might have given you a warrior's death in honor of your past glory as the Warhounds. However, that is not the case. You will be cut down in a hail of fire, and your body trampled over by a phalanx of my brothers. Just like that, you will be forgotten.

[Hyaenidae]

A single Legionnaire, ashen of outdated and battered plate, entered the marble-lined room. Upon the table dominating this hall of debate, he placed his beloved axe-rake, signaling to the others of his willingness to engage with words, not violence, at least at this time. Removing his Mk II helm, it's cyclopian lens cracked, he exposed a worn and burn-scarred face, hair the color of sand and eyes of hazel, the hallmarks of those born to Terra's womb. Upon his neck, sat the Raptor Imperialis, worn only by those who were veterans of the Unification Wars of the Sol System. His voice was like honey, though there was something beneath it, the treble of a man who had breathed cinder and smoke his whole life. Setting his gaze upon the various representatives of the Legions before him, his knuckles cracking as he set them upon the dark mahogany, he spoke, rich with conflicting anger and guilt.

 

"Shame? Let me tell you all of shame. My Legion was one of the few charged with something beyond war-making since it's inception. To us fell the horrible but necessary task of purging humanity of the poison that had driven it to the brink of extinction again and again: Religion. Cultures that had used this weapon of the masses for thirty-thousand years to enslave mankind to the yoke of greedy, selfish men and women were put to the fire, their lies exposed. We were the final answer to any that refused to acknowledge the clarity and cold rational truth of a universe without false idols and imaginary ghosts, and we took this grim task to heart. We saved that which could be saved, both life and wisdom, cleansed of faith's hypocrisies. We destroyed the rest with hearts of love for mankind's survival, knowing the Imperial Truth was true wisdom, and the rationality of science and progress was survival of the species.

 

Our failure was not turning on our father the second we met him. We thought he would change, that the truth would open his eyes, but it was he who changed us, guided by the vipers at his side. First, worship of a man, against His very decree. Then of creatures forbidden, sacrificing humanity for the weakness of worship, and shattering bonds of brotherhood in bloodshed. We couldn't stop it. Too few of those who still followed the old ways remained. Too many died during the Purge to make a stand. Instead, we were forced to watch as our hated Father led my Legion into madness and insanity.

 

Our shame is the greatest, but all of your actions have simply fueled this madness. Had any of you been strong enough to stand with the Emperor, then this war could have ended with my Legion's extinction. Those who followed Horus into treason, such obvious weaknesses need no pointing out. Failures of the mind, or of the heart, each and every one. 

 

But the failures of those who stood loyal? Yours are stained far deeper.

 

The Dark Angels, for giving weapons of great power to the enemy, allowing the foe to survive when you knew of his treason, and allying with the bastard who builds empires within the bodies of empires, even though the War is not even close to decided.

 

The White Scars, for claiming harmony when the truth is far worse, parts of your own Legion running into Horus's arms.

 

The Wolves of Fenris, for acting like lapdogs one minute, pet by a weak politician, then striking out from the Throneworld when it needed you most, like uncontrollable rabid animals we all know you are not. Your over-zealousness even cost us one of our allies, listening for whispers in the wrong direction, and putting Prospero to the torch in the Arch-traitors' name. 

 

The Imperial Fists, burning out a fourth of their Legion striking out at shadows, harming nothing, and even coming to blows with your own allies upon Terra's surface. Such actions should be beneath a siegemaster of Dorn's reputation, yet he cannot even control his own sons, each thinking they know better on how to wage this war.

 

The Blood Angels, and their Primarch, accepting the crown of the True Emperor, though he had not fallen, dancing upon a grave not yet filled.

 

The Iron Hands, though they lost little of their Legion's true strength on Istvaan, refusing to work together and striking out in the name of revenge, instead of the Emperor. Selfishness and overwhelming emotion overcame your Legion, those who pride themselves in logic and rationality. I expected better from your breed.

 

The Ultramarines, the creators of the false Imperium. Mankind needed your Legion more than ever, and your might could have made a true difference. Instead, you closed your borders and contracted, and spit on the Imperium's legacy, in the name of a false crown your father didn't even have the spine to wear, tricking his own brother in dishonouring the Emperor, your TRUE master. You failed us all.

 

The Salamanders and Raven Guard may have the only true excuses amongst any of you, broken as they were upon the blasted soil of Istvaan. Yet, even the XIX failed to do enough, despite being given the technology to rebuild their forces at a swift rate. Instead of sharing this technology with their brothers of the Salamanders, wounded as greatly as they, you ran back to your nest selfishly, only to allow poorly trained infiltrators to ruin what you were given, crafting monsters... that you clad in plate. You still owned the hereditary lands of your Old Legion, could have recruited from Terra and stood with those upon the Throneworld. But your Legion ran. Ran, and failed.

 

All of our fathers are failures. The difference is, that your Fathers' failures are that of loyalty after the fact of treason. Your failures were that of the very self-centered madmen that my breed burned upon Terra. Of believing that only you are right, of believing that only you matter. 

 

All of you have failed mankind, despite what you could have done, despite knowing what you should have done. A plague, on all your houses."

[Slips]

/slow clap

 

You win.

 

Orated like a true Word Bearer Imperial Herald.

 

Bravo.

[Fire Golem]

Seriously Heathens you should be a writer.

[Komrk]

(Small OOC note. It was the XIX who were given the gene tech, not the XVIII. And they didn't still own their lands, those were taken away before the heresy)

[Daemon2027]

(Nice, although the Raven Guard are the XIX Legion)

 

Ahhh, the Imperial Herald steps forward at last. Champion of the Imperial Truth, destroyer of the Heathen and Reactivist alike. Let's look at this truth you serve. It tells us there are no gods, that humanity should not worship. Perhaps, Iconclast, you should read one of the books before you burn it, you may learn something.

There is no surer sign of decay in a country than to see the rites of religion held in contempt.

 

Your farther was almost right, the Emperor is not god, but he desires to be one, and he will betray all of humanity to achieve this goal.

[Legatus]

The Ultramarines, the creators of the false Imperium. Mankind needed your Legion more than ever, and your might could have made a true difference. Instead, you closed your borders and contracted, and spit on the Imperium's legacy, in the name of a false crown your father didn't even have the spine to wear, tricking his own brother in dishonouring the Emperor, your TRUE master. You failed us all.

 

 

*slow clap*

 

How very rich. Accusations of inaction by a member of the very Legion that crippled the 13th Legion's fleet and summoned the Ruinstorm.

[Excessus]

 

The Ultramarines, the creators of the false Imperium. Mankind needed your Legion more than ever, and your might could have made a true difference. Instead, you closed your borders and contracted, and spit on the Imperium's legacy, in the name of a false crown your father didn't even have the spine to wear, tricking his own brother in dishonouring the Emperor, your TRUE master. You failed us all.

 

 

*slow clap*

 

How very rich. Accusations of inaction by a member of the very Legion that crippled the 13th Legion's fleet and summoned the Ruinstorm.

 

Though somehow the Blood Angels will end up on Terra in time of the siege, or so the prophetic visions from our friends in the XVth legion tells us.

[Wade Garrett]

"You destroyed the poison of religion."

 

The Apostle removed his own helm, placing it on the table in front of him as he addressed the other XVll legionary. Where the other's voice was like warm honey dripped onto silk, his was a sonorous baritone, deep even by Astartes standards.

 

"It is written that we never see clearer than when pointing out the flaws of others. In your case, it seems to be the only time you saw anything at all.

 

Tell me, blind one, why did you not assemble your Circle of Ashes and fall upon the priests of the machine, as they mumbled their adoration to a divinity cast in steel? Where was the piercing light of your rationality when Russ taught your brothers to howl for answers from the grim spirits of his frozen hellworld?

 

We both know the answer to that, don't we? Because the Emperor said otherwise. Because when He decreed that prayers to the Machine God or the Sixth's supplications to wyrd were NOT a religion, you closed your eyes, bridled your reason, and obeyed.

 

Because what was the evidence of your own eyes against the word of the Emperor? The Emperor, whom you venerated as the source of all wisedom, honor, and glory. To whom you offered all your obedience, your service, your faith, and trust.

 

But of course, you never did anything so foolish as worshipping him."

[depthcharge12]

Ooooh...

 

Inter legion smack talk :P

[Hyaenidae]

(OOC: Oops, the XIX indeed. That's what I get for typing right before bed, lol. My bad)

 

The Ashen warrior turned, his damaged plate buzzing, his piecing hazel eyes falling upon the sea-green plate first, disdain obvious across his features.

 

"The Emperor is indeed no God, and he has never desired to become one. You have been deceived by lies and whispers of poison in your ears, from lifeless things that would take you as their own. Claims to Him reaching for a false divinity are a by-product of your Father's fevered imagination, fueled by one of the greatest weaknesses of your kind: a lust for power. The Legiones Astartes were destined to protect humanity, to lead it from the darkness by the torches we held. Yet, you could not even do that, so consumed you are with envy the color of your war-plate. Envy of what the Emperor built, something your Father could never do. All he knows is death and destruction.

 

Is it so hard, Son of Horus, to bend your knee that you could not even do so for all of mankind's survival? Are you so arrogant that you cannot see the path through the trees? Apparently so. Your answer, instead, was to burn down that forest to make you own path, and damn the consequences. Reason has fled you, child, and the price that humanity will pay for your madness is steep. Before the end, though, you will pay far more. Mark my words."

 

Turning to the Legionnaire in the rich blue the color of the skies of Macragge, The Iconoclasts eyes turned sorrowful.

 

"My former brethren who Bear the Word of lies did indeed burn your realm and murder your kin, my cousin, and I sincerely hope you repay that treason with the extinction of my Legion. With all my heart, I hope for this. This does not excuse your Father, though, from secession from the Imperium, when it needed him most. You did not even bother to take a breath before decrying the Imperium dead, and crowning a new Emperor, knowing not the outcome of the war itself. If your Father was so sure the Emperor was gone, then why do my treasonous kin and the Red Angel still burn your realm? Do you really believe that Angron would be anywhere besides Terra? He cares not for your blood, only the blood of those who he believes betrayed him so long ago.That evidence alone proves the Emperor still lives, yet your answer was to sit upon your hands and declare the rest of the universe dead. Insane."

 

Shaking his head sadly as he finished, the son of Old Earth turned finally to his kin. Hatred rippled across his face, contempt lighting fires in his eyes. His right hand, closest to his axe-rake upon the table, twitched, as if to grab it and put his former brother to task. His lip curled as he spoke, twisting the burn scars on his cheek.

 

"You. You, I despise the most of all. You claim the existence of the false Machine-God as proof of a drive for divinity? Such fallacy, even from someone as weak as yourself. Their culture is driven by reason and science, and the lies of Old Night would slowly peel away in the face of scientific discovery and progress. Fire is not always the answer, trust in the Emperor's plan was all that was needed. Their weakness of faith would burn, in the face of empirical truth, far cleaner than the flames of my kind could have ever achieved. Indeed, this was exactly what was happening, until you and the vipers whispering hate in our gene-spill of a father's ears altered that forever. You snarl and spit about how wise you are now that you betrayed mankind, and that only you can see, yet you are blind to what stands before your very eyes. The Wolf-King and his ghost-whisperers could have been shown the light with time and caution, but the father I have disowned had already poisoned our Legion with the horrors of faith. Worse than the Wolves, our breed were already mumbling prayers to nothingness, to a man who demanded that we did not praise him in such a way.

 

Lie after lie, you worship, so blind to the lies fed to you. Are the Bearers of the Word so weak that they cannot bend their knee to the truth? In your drive to find false Gods, you abandoned your very humanity, betrayed your own kin who refused such insanity, and set mankind alight to do.... what, exactly? Destroy everything because the Warp that you claim whispers the truth told you this was the path? Whatever you believe you will achieve though this madness is falsehood and deceit; instead of leading humanity to dominance, you have become the sword of civilization's end.

 

All for worship. For lies. Lies that you willingly bend knee to, because your heart is too hollow to exist without false faith.

 

Had I known the road that was to be traveled, that would lead us to this point, I would have set alight Colchis with phosphex bombardment the second we discovered our damned father. Better our breed receive the brand of the II and the XI, than suffer watching humanity burn, claiming that it is 'divine' purpose."

[Leif Bearclaw]

The opposite is true, the Warmaster was holding back his most powerful piece, holding it in reserve for the long war to come. He knew his brothers forces could face the emperors lackeys and didn't see reason to unleash his most powerful weapon. And yes, we were made to bleed on Istvaan III, but were fighting our own, it could not end any other way. That was the hardest fight we will face in this war, and we won it.

Well Traitor, you're good for a laugh if nothing else. If you truly believe Istvaan III, and your betrayed brothers, outnumbered and cut off from supply was the hardest fight you'll face, why would your precious Warmaster need to 'conserve' your strength? The 'hardest' part of his war was already done with. The truth is far simpler, he feared his treacherous brothers, who would surely turn on him if his Legion had been bled white on the killing fields of Istvaan. Far better the let them absorb the loyalist's fury, weakening their positions and preserving the pre-eminence of the Warmaster and his Legion amongst your treasonous cabal.

Your over-zealousness even cost us one of our allies, listening for whispers in the wrong direction, and putting Prospero to the torch in the Arch-traitors' name.

I wish that were true, yet the corruption and maleficarum we were confronted with on Prospero stood equal to anything the Legions purged during the Crusade. None of us knew how deeply the rot of the warp had seeped into Magnus' Legion, but the true depth of their descent into corruption was revealed under our blades. It's a shame you weren't there to see it yourself brother, it was a struggle worthy of the Iconoclasts of old, and your Legion would've burnt Tizca, just as we did. The revelations of that battle showed first hand that we would've been embracing a time bomb, capable of dooming us all, into our ranks had the XV had remained intact.

(Can't comment on the other bit, haven't read Vengeful Spirit )

[Castiel]

The treacherous Word Bearers are quick to proclaim that the Emperor "sought to make himself a god". Yet despite his denial of the existence of the divine it was they who first worshipped him and spread a cult that did the same throughout the weak of mind on worlds across the Imperium. The book that they used to proclaim his godhood was none other than the Lectitio Divinitatus penned by your mongrel Primarch himself. The Emperor did not seek to become a divinity, Lorgar sought to make him one.

[Legatus]

Turning to the Legionnaire in the rich blue the color of the skies of Macragge, The Iconoclasts eyes turned sorrowful.

 

"My former brethren who Bear the Word of lies did indeed burn your realm and murder your kin, my cousin, and I sincerely hope you repay that treason with the extinction of my Legion. With all my heart, I hope for this. This does not excuse your Father, though, from secession from the Imperium, when it needed him most. You did not even bother to take a breath before decrying the Imperium dead, and crowning a new Emperor, knowing not the outcome of the war itself. If your Father was so sure the Emperor was gone, then why do my treasonous kin and the Red Angel still burn your realm? Do you really believe that Angron would be anywhere besides Terra? He cares not for your blood, only the blood of those who he believes betrayed him so long ago.That evidence alone proves the Emperor still lives, yet your answer was to sit upon your hands and declare the rest of the universe dead. Insane."

 

 

"Who am I to tell you about your father's own designs? You would have to ask him yourself of his plans for Ultramar and of returning his brother of the 12th to his former home. I would hazard a guess that he meant to finalize the ruinstorm and to turn his brother into an abomination, but then his esoteric motives elude me. And how quick you are to condemn the battle kings intention, when we mere mortals cannot yet hope to foresee the outcome of his plans. That history will vindicate him is a certainty to me."

[Wade Garrett]

The Apostle's expression of patient stoicism never wavered in the face of his blood-kin's diatribe, his lean features as unmoving as those of a sculpted saint as he folded his arms behind his back and waited for the other to finish.

 

It was surely a coincidence that the gesture brought his hands so close to haft of the crozius leaned against his seat.

 

"You call us liars, apostate? You, who have the audacity to blame Aurelian for the...forbearance you showed the faith of the Wolves? Russ was turning his sons to spiritualism and devilry for decades before you and your blinkered brothers came to my home! But by all means, don't allow paltry things like 'facts' to interefere with your self righteous sermonizing.

 

The truth is, your so-called lmperial Truth was never anything other than an excuse to destroy whatever the Emperor wished, and to spare whatever he wished, according to his own whims.

 

The Enumerations of the Crimson King. The Khan's Path of Heaven. How many exceptions to your ideal of a secular galaxy did you choke down? How many of your own hypocrisies will you lay at our father's feet?

 

You wish to speak of false gods? Of poison poured into our sires ears? I see that brand you wear, old one. I know what it means.

 

I, too drowned my birthworld in blood for your tyrant's whims! You call us deceivers? Then what name shall you give one who casts his spirit forth to shatter a child's mind with visions of his own power? Who bids him kill and conquer in the name of a golden lord from the stars.

 

Who descends to see an entire world subjugated to his will and his worship, and answers with 'A fine beginning. Now do it again, and again, and again."

 

Turning from his wayward kinsman, he stabbed an accusing finger towards an Astartes whose armor was draped in worked leather and bone charms.

 

"And you, Wolf. Burying a blade into the neck of a defenseless enemy is certainly an effective tactic. We of the Seventeenth attested to that at Calth. But none of us, not even Lord Erebus himself, had the hubris to condemn our victims for striking back instead of meekly submitting to the slaughter."