The Black Maw

[Carrack]

The eye will blink open and terror will come to those who meet its gaze. The eye will be black. Not just dark in color, but the blackness of a sinful soul, the blackness that blinds our vision, the blackness that we feared as children, and if we are honest, sometimes fear even as grown men and women, the blackness of death separated from eternity at His side. The eye has blinked before, and we think we are prepared for it to happen again, brave men stand ready for it, yet they are not prepared for this. The eye will gaze at us hungrily. We will be devoured by a beastly maw of darkness and teeth. We will be devoured! Repent! Beg forgiveness for your many sins. Let us at least face our deaths with clean souls, filled with nothing but hate for the enemies of mankind.

 

-Excerp from sermon by Bishop Joshua Mosso

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Black Maw Warband

The core of the Black Maw Warband is the remnants of three Sons of Horus companies currently led by the Chaos Lord Carrack. The Black Maw was quick to swear allegiance to the Warmaster as he formed the dreaded Black Legion. Ten millennia of wars both inside the Eye of Terror, and within the Imperium of Man, have left but a battle hardened core of veterans to carry on the traditions of the warband. A combination of traditional recruitment and the practice of accepting Astartes from other legions, and renegade chapters, have kept the strength of the Black Maw roughly the same.

 

 

 

 

Sons of Black

 

The Black Maw warband was struggling in the days and years after the failed siege of Terra. Hounded into the Eye by the vengeful loyalist the fate of the warband seemed doomed. The internecine wars between the surviving legions were whittling away their strength. Sons of the failed Warmaster took the brunt of the other legions anger for the defeat at Terra, and casualties were not easily replaced. Finding a safe place to anchor their fleet much less actually dock and refit the increasingly battle scarred vessels was a difficult task within the hells of the Eye of Terror. Worse the pressures from their enemies were fracturing the warband. More so as officers and men of the Black Maw found favor with different gods. To make matters worse, these proud warriors could survive defeats well enough, but when victory meant little more than another day of survival their fighting spirit began to wain, and a malaise came over the warband that would not be lifted without a meaningful victory.

 

Then Abaddon came to the Black Maw. He came at the head of a largest fleet that the Black Maw had encountered since they retreated to the eye. He came with the largest army of former Sons of Horus that the Black Maw had seen as well. He also had a motley assortment of ships and legionnaires from the other traitor legions as well, nay not motley, both vessels and Astartes were all uniformly black. The new Warmaster hailed every member of the Black Maw.

 

He could of asked for their allegiance. They would have given it to him, each and every one of them. But Abaddon doesn't ask when he can demand, and so he did. Each member from Legionnaire to Lord took a knee before the new Warmaster and pledged to follow him till the end of days and make the galaxy burn in their wake.

 

 

Geneseed: predominately Sons of Horus, with scatterings from other legions and chapters alike.

 

 

Returned

 

 

One...three...four....five....the gene-thrall counted off the numbered alcoves, the same repeating 18 numbers, over and over again, until he reached the first empty alcove marked XVI. All the alcoves were sealed behind coded security doors, but unlike all the other plain stainless steel doors, the doors marked with the XVI were faced with jet, and trimmed with pure gold. These were the alcoves considered the most sacred to the gene-thralls of the Black Maw.

 

The gene-thrall entered the 10 digit coded sequence and the black door slid open to reveal two basins. The basins were a combination of a work of art, and a technological marvel, and something else. The exterior of the basins were carved from a beautiful black marble with veins of gold. The basins were filled with a glowing green gel. Tubes and wires, all sheathed in gold, protruded from the backs of the basin into the wall of the alcove. Some maintained a constant temperature, some pumped oxygen into the gel, some kept a steady electrical charge consistent with human neuro-electric activity during deep slumber, some did things that the gene-thrall could not comprehend. They all provided the perfect environment to store their sacred offerings.

 

There was something else going on in the alcove that the gene-thrall could not see. There always was when a XVI was opened. Eight of the other numbers had similar phenomena, but not to the extent that the XVI alcoves did. There were whispers when the alcoves were opened. To listen to the whispers was to spend the rest of your life a raving lunatic. The gene-thralls were surgically deafened. The alcoves would sometimes change colors, not normal colors meant for mortal eyes, but colors so vibrant, so intense, that to see the colors would lock a man in place, to stare away in total disregard for everything else, even the need to draw breath. The gene-thralls eyes were altered to only see in black and white. There was sickness in the alcoves. Not a normal sickness, but to draw breath from the alcoves would invite a spiritual sickness, a corruption, a sickness so infused with despair, that as the body rotted away, the victims could do not but laugh, as the slow and painful death was a joy compared to living with the rot infecting the soul. The gene-thralls' lungs were ripped from their bodies' by the chirurgeons and replaced with augmetic lungs with their own oxygen supplies. The alcoves were filled with emotion, hatred. It was so thick, it was palpable. Opening such an alcove was to remember every slight ever done to you, and unbidden, a plan for revenge would take root in your mind. The plans always involved bloodshed, and if the perpetrator of the slight was already dead or unreachable, well someone else would have to pay the blood-price. The gene-thralls were given paralytics before their duties with just enough onset time to complete their tasks. Afterwards, their frontal lobes were wiped clean, and their personalities were constructed anew.

 

The gene-thrall placed the two progenid glands into the twin basins uttering the Sacred Words, "We Are Returned." and sealed the door. He wondered how many times he had performed this ritual. He would never know.

 

 

Colors and markings: Black with brass trim armor, typically with one pauldron left bare black. There are tolerated cults among the armorer-thralls, that will ritually mark the bare pauldron of their masters' armor with the Eye of Horus, or the Chaos Star, in gold or bronze, following some significant accomplishment of the armor's wearer.

 

The mortals that fight for the Black Maw have no consistent uniform, but most try to incorporate black somewhere in their attire. They do however, mark their war machines and fortifications with the symbol of an outline of a gaping wolf's maw. Legend has it that this symbol was once the symbol of the warband before they took the Black of the Legion. The legionaries themselves, never use the symbol, and are indifferent to its use by their mortal fighters.

 

 

Armor of the Evil Giants

 

 

Bluish moonlight found its way through the pines to reflect off of the snow, illuminating the forest floor in a ghostly light. The tracker paused at a good print, less disturbed then most by the last three days of light snow. It was big, padded, with claws retracted, one of the hunting felines with broad paws perfect for walking on the crust of the snow. It was not the much larger footprints of the white and grey beasts that the tracker had seen before, but those of the medium, man-sized spotted felines that hunted alone. The tracker didn't have the luxury of walking across the top of the snow, and trudged after the trail in heavily armored boots, sinking a meter into the snow, barely up to his black armored thighs. The tracker glanced back at the equally heavily armored warriors following behind him single file, in an effort to conceal their numbers with their own tracks. They stoically followed the tracker without a word spoken between them.

 

The trail was leading into another village, but the tracker knew that. He was following the feline to find its private entrance to the village, which wasn't the single gate that broke the encircling wall of dirt and rocks between thick timber palisades. He was confident that he could equal the athletic feline in jumping and climbing. He reached a point on the eastern side of the village where a pile of snow covered fallen trees had provided a launching point for the feline to the nearby wall. He climbed the timber pile, and with a leap assisted by humming servos in his armored legs, struck the wall near the top with a dull thud. Spikes on his armored shins and forearms kept him from sliding down the icy wood. With no real effort, he crested the outer palisade and crouched on the fill between the outer and inner timber walls. He waited until his warriors had followed him onto the wall, then as one, they drew their weapons, the tracker choosing a boltgun clamped to his large backpack power plant. After waiting in silence for a few minutes, to see if anyone had heard their entrance, they jumped, one by one into the village, resuming their single file formation.

 

The village was empty, burnt to the ground in most places, same as the last one. Embers were still glowing in some of buildings. The warriors silently stalked through the ruins of the recently depopulated village. Burnt bodies lay in the shells of their homes and halls, indicating to the tracker this had been another nighttime massacre, striking the villagers where they slept. The warriors followed the tracker into the center of the village to where a grander, but just as destroyed building lay. Before what was probably the entrance to this three story building was a small shattered satellite dish, damaged by a small explosion. One of the warriors told the tracker, "Mass reactive bolt." Indicating the damaged dish. The tracker nodded in agreement. He walked through the open entrance into the shell of the building, unconcerned about the structural integrity of the charred rafters over his head, and bent down at a piile of scattered bits of charred flesh atop the snow covered ashes. Drag marks followed the pile out a hole in the south wall. The feline they had followed into the village had found an easy meal, already cooked in the fires. The Tracker stood up straight, and opened a vox channel to his master from an inbuilt system in his great horned helm, "Lord, this village is the same as the last one, the central building was attacked at night three days ago. The attackers cut communications, then razed the village. We will continue our search, but I am not optimistic we will find any evidence of the Wanderer." After a brief pause of silence, the receiver replied, "Acknowledged and continue, Vinno."

 

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

 

Invidge peeked up through the ash covered slats in the larder door from beneath a pile of furs. He caught glimpses of the new invaders of his village through tiny openings in the ash he had made with the knife clutched to his chest. They were different then the ones who had burnt his home, razed his village and left him the man of the house at the young age of nine. But they were definitely invaders, that was clear. They were giants from the old stories his grandma had spun while doing her knitting by the fire. Invidge had matured enough to not be so sure of his grandma's wild tales, but these huge creatures fit no other description. Except the armor. In the tales of the giants, armor wasn't mentioned, but what was mentioned was that some giants were helpers of men, others were enemies. The armor of the giants announced which type of giants were standing in the wreckage of his home, the wreckage of his young life. Their armor was black, trimmed with brass and gold, and encrusted with spikes, hooks, and blades. Skulls hung from chains or were affixed to spikes and gauntlets, human skulls that looked small against the size of the giants carrying them. They looked like child skulls, like his very own skull. Their huge pauldrons were left an unadorned black on one side, the left for some and the right for others, with the opposite shoulder bearing runes of eight pointed stars or single eyes. They weren't just runes like you would see at a waystone at a fork in the trails though, staring at them made the back of Invidge's eyes ache. One of the eye runes, the one on the giant who was standing up straight and talking, blinked for a moment, and an evil red eye stared down at Invedge. Invedge involuntarily shuddered, after desperately trying to be still, then the eye blinked back into a rune. Invedge realized he was holding his breath, and slowly let it out, so as not to draw attention with a gasp. Then, just as quickly as the invaders arrived, they left. Invedge resolved to stay hidden a while longer before he would venture out of the larder and face his ruined world. Perhaps the winter cat would come back again and save him the somber and heavy duty of burying his family members. Maybe even it would come for him.

 

 

 

Base of operations:

 

Currently, the warband makes its base on Hell's Holdfast, formerly known as Frederic III, in the Siliquastrum sub-sector. The main port city, and seat of Lord Carrack's power, is the city of Howler's Charn. Howler's Charn is named after the howling winds that cut through the city's mountaintop spires. Traditionally, the city was supported by a vast network of villages and counties that provided the raw materials necessary for the city to function. These lands have been given to legionaries of the warband, and important mortals, as feudal holdings, although their masters are largely absentee landlords. The city is well protected from the ground and orbit by massive batteries of cannons, squadrons of interceptors, and extensive void shielding.

 

The city of Howler's Charn serves as a pirate port for all manner of raiders, reavers, and marauders, both mortal and Astartes. The use of the port, though profitable for its traders, is not free. At a minimum, tribute is required from all who wish to buy and sell ill gotten goods at Howler's Charn. However, preferential treatment, refitting and rearmament, and any more extensive use of the port must be paid in pledges of service to the warband. This practice has a tendency to eventually acquire the allegiances of pirate captains to the point that they are essentially part of the Black Maw Fleet.

 

The northern polar continent of Hell's Holdfast holds an important resource for the Black Maw. The icy continent is home to hardy, warring tribes, that are used as replacement stock for recruiting Astartes in the traditional way. Lord Carrack has imposed an embargo on all nonessential traffic and communication between the tribes and the rest of the world, in order to maintain their culture at its current barbaric level. In times of great need, gladiatorial games are held to select large numbers of potential aspirants, but typically, the warband selects a few young boys who earned distinction in completing their rites of passage. One such tribe, the Ursgatch, whose name means the Greater White Bear, require their boys to travel out into the winter snows, and retrieve an object from the den of their totem animal.

 

Recent events have put a severe strain on the world of Hell's Holdfast, to the point where it is no longer self sustainable. Prior to the wholesale invasion of the Siliquastrum Subsector, hordes of mortal warriors, cultists, renegades, and traitor regiments, mustered on Hell's Holdfast. But just before the Black Maw launched its invasion, the Crusade Force of Marshall Clarence invested the system, taking its formidable defenses down piecemeal. The investment ultimately ended in failure for the Crusaders, they were destroyed as soon as they made planetstrike, but it still left the massive heretic army stranded on Hell's Holdfast for six months, as the crusaders methodically approached the well defended world. The mortal army of the Black Maw had but two weeks of provisions. Starvation, and the ensuing plagues, saw the population plummet, and the world stripped bare. For now, the world survives on imports coming in to Howler's Charn, but should the power of the Black Maw wane, Hell's Holdfast will certainly fall.

 

 

 

 

 

Other Holdings in Real Space

 

 

Following the invasion of the Siliquastrum Subsector, two other formerly Imperial worlds have been conquered by the Black Maw, while the rest are frequently raided. Fewood, Hell's Holdfast's closest neighbor, has been conquered by a pirate queen Mallori, who commands a squadron of raiders and escorts under the colors of the warband. The agri-world continues to produce needed foodstuffs, as well as gun fodder for her Black Maw lords in the form of conscripted levies.

 

Cantu, a cursed world depopulated by a Black Maw summoned daemonic incursion, now is slowly being rebuilt by settlers sponsored by the warband. The world has not yet contributed to the overall efforts of the Black Maw, instead being allowed to focus on growing into a more productive resource. But the echoes of the atrocity committed on Cantu, continue to plague the settlers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holdings in the Eye of Terror

 

Outside the Siliquastrum Subsector, indeed, outside of reality itself, the Black Maw still holds sway over the Daemon World of Vaaska in the Eye of Terror, their former base of operations. The world, as most daemon worlds, is not easily described, at least to those of sound mind, but there are, more or less, human inhabitants, mostly less. The denizens of Vasska are organized into clans of human and mutant warriors, who enslave those too weak to fight them off. The larger, more successful clans keep to fortified cities, and have access to higher levels of technology. The smallest of clans are little more than hunter-gatherer groups, constantly on the move through the most marginal lands.

 

Vaaska was once the home wold of the Black Maw, and as such, many of its important temples, monuments, and tombs are found on its tormented surface. The world is a likely fallback point for the Black Maw, should Lord Carrack be driven out of the realms of Man. When the warband once again needs to fill its holds with hordes of mortal warriors, Vaaskans make up the largest portion. The clans are typically eager to serve the warband, if just for a chance to leave their hellish world.

 

The Black Maw, through their status within the Black Legion, maintains trade relations with the Dark Mechanicus world of Xana II. Their main trade is slaves for fleet repairs beyond what they can accomplish themselves, as well as the rare commissioning of new ships. Lord Carrack, through his Warpsmith the Chain Maker, has formed a special relationship with the Nullbind School of the Dark Mechanicus on Xana II. The proscribed school, has long conducted experiments binding daemons to carefully crafted prisons, then harnessing the energy the daemon expends attempting to escape its binds. A number of calamitous accidents are attributed to adherents of the Nullbind School, causing its ban on Xana II, but the school persists. The Black Maw has harbored students of the school over the years, keeping them sequestered away in closed forges, protected from their vengeful, one time peers, while benefiting from the fruits of their labor.

 

Helvetti II

 

 

 

Lukis the Technomancer surveyed the thralls being herded off the orbital launch coming from Howler's Charn below. Malnourished, signs of dysentery and cold weather exposure, youths and the elderly, with a blurt of Binary Cant, Lukis consigned these wretches to the soulforge. Their poor quality an indication of how the large army of renegades and mutants that Lord Carrack had gathered from the Daemon World Vaska, were rapidly eating the world below out of supply. Equally pressuring was the scorched earth tactics of Marshal Clarence, and how they denied The Black Maw's raiders easy plunder. These factors did not affect the Technomancer as he ordered his cabal of witches to begin the Canticles of Calling and to prime and power the psy-amp at the mouth of the Helveti Daemonforge.

 

Lukis signaled vocal unit 113 to begin core refueling protocols with the Scalpella, a Black Maw frigate docked with the Helveti's refitting spar. Swarms of void hardened servitors began disengaging from the scoured hull of the warship fleeing potential disaster as the dangerous refueling sequence began.

 

The Helveti Forge was a gift to Lukis by Lord Carrack. A gift and a prison. Lukis had been exiled from Xana II for adhering to the Nullbind School. Lord Carrack was more than willing to accept the wayward Magos and provide him with a modest orbital Daemonforge, in return for Lukis's expertise in running a naval docking facility. Although Lukis was now free to continue his experiments, he was to remain cloistered in his forge to conceal his presence from spies and assassins from Xana II, and not cause any friction between the Lord Carrack and the powerful forge world.

 

 

However lamentable his current circumstances, Technomancer Lukis had a task at hand and began marking the stages of the ritual that would use a bound daemon to refuel the Scalpella's warp engines.

 

Stage 1: Canticles of Calling incanted, stimulants and electroshock administered to thrall sacrifices.

 

Stage 2: warp containment field erected and tested.

 

Stage 3: sacrificial offering to Barheghast the Painbringer. The trap is baited.

 

Stage 4: Warp containment field holding. Power level alpha Psy-amp deactivated and witches returned to stasis chambers.

 

Stage 5: Barheghast unleashes 122% of expected psychic force against containment field. Field is holding but subliminal fracturing beginning to present on dorsal plane. Power level Kappa. (Note: further research on warp entity Barheghast the Painbringer required before further summoning)

 

stage 6: transfer of power to Scalpella complete.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fleet of the Black Maw

 

The Black Maw Flagship is the Retaliator class grand cruiser Bitter Revenge. The Blood Eye is an Astartes Strike Cruiser with a long and bloody history of preying on the remnants of the empire it once helped forge. The Blood Eye is fully devoted to Khorne, and carries the warband's berserkers. Two other cruisers and a vast assortment of renegade pirate ships and escorts complete the fleet of the Black Maw.

 

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/303361-fleet-of-the-black-maw/?do=findComment&comment=4033047

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Key Personnel

 

Lord Carrack, the Slayer of Multitudes, Doom of Kasr Woolten, Lord Carrack assumed command of the Black Maw after the previous commander, Lord Huma, ascended into Daemon Princedom and left the running of the warband to, "the fittest", and focused solely on the esoteric nature of his newfound daemonhood. Lord Carrack bears the mark and favor of Khorne, but is more devoted to personal power and the command of the Black Maw, than loosing himself on the Eightfold Path.

 

Four factors contribute to Lord Carrack's continued hold on the command of the warband. The first, is his personal prowess on the battlefield. Lord Carrack is an imposing figure on the battlefield, clad in ancient terminator plate, and wielding a great daemonic axe. Only a fool would challenge his right to lead by personal combat. The second factor is his able command of the fleet in naval warfare. In contrast to the feral nature of the lord when he is cutting down his foes in combat, he is cold and calculating at the throne of Bitter Revenge, able to coordinate fleet actions with but a few commands, or able to see to the complete command of every aspect of his ship, as needed. The third factor is he is firmly supported by the Khornate faction of the Black Maw, currently the largest faction. The final factor, is he has been largely successful in his military endeavors, and the rank and file are content with the plunder and glory they are earning.

 

Lythane the Black, Keeper of the Liber Apocal, holds the title of Equerry to Lord Carrack. In truth, which is known to all, Lythane is a plant from the Warmaster to ensure the Black Maw's loyalty to the Black Legion.

 

Lythane the Black gains much of his personal power by being the Keeper of the Liber Apocal. The Liber Apocal is a cursed, arcane, text that grants Lythane great sorcerous power, at great peril. The tome is cursed in that any mortal who touch its pages, has his soul sucked into the tome, to be imprisoned for eternity. The Liber Apocal wants to be handled, and influences its owner to do so. Mechanical methods of reading from the tome always fail, so Lythane the Black must summon a familiar daemon to turn the pages of the Liber Apocal.

 

A Reading from the Liber Apocal

 

 

Lythane the Black prepared himself for a reading of the Liber Apocal. This was no casual reading, precautions must be taken. He alerted his retinue and told them he wasn't to be disturbed by anyone other than the Warmaster himself, as he checked the locks to his quarters. Lythane than lit the eight candles rendered from the fat of murderers, as well as incense stolen from an Imperial cathedral. He then scrutinized the summoning circle for several minutes. The silver engraved circle was bisected with a line of congealed blood, with a small cage on one side and a girl staked into the center of the other. Satisfied, Lythane eased into a trance, contemplating the nature of the profane text.

 

Reading from the Liber Apocal gave Lythane sorcerous power beyond what he usually possessed, but it would wain after a reading, so periodically he must return to the book. When he didn't, his psychic focus would suffer, his temper rise, and his rest would be disturbed. He craved it. This craving was inherent to the Liber, it had destroyed lesser men, for its greatest curse was that it could only be touched by daemonic hands. Lythane brought his staff down upon the sacrifice and began the summoning. He called out to the warp for his familiar daemon. The wretched little monster was pulled from unreality into the cage. Unperturbed by its confinement the familiar made its demands, 6 slaves to enjoy, 7 hours to wallow in the midden, 8 captives to kill, and 9 minutes to share conscious with Lythane. Lythane unlocked the cage and said, "Very well, turn the page."

 

 

Dark Apostle Lavam sees to the spiritual needs of the Black Maw, as well as upholds the rituals and traditions of the Warband. He also is responsible for enforcing the true faith upon conquered worlds and propagating cults on enemy planets. He has established an academy at Howler's Charn for the purpose of training cult magos and recruiters.

 

Lavam is a master manipulator and a cunning spymaster. He has eyes and ears throughout the Eye of Terror and in parts of the Imperium as well. He is always on the lookout for fragmenting warbands, and small bands of renegades waning in power. These groups are recruited into the Black Maw, whose power is waxing. However, within the warband, he is not well received by the rank and file. This is because over the millennia, most of the veterans of the warband have been used and manipulated by him at least once. Lavam's power stems from his ability to raise hordes of cultists, and corrupt entire regiments of guardsmen.

 

The Black Book of Dark Apostle Lavam

 

 

For the eyes of Inquisitor Chella Bonatelo. All others, I implore you stop reading and destroy this synopsis, less your soul fall from the light of the Emperor forever and ever.

 

For three years now I have convalesced at the Sanitarium of Our Martyred Saint. The tender ministrations of the sisters hospitaller have restored a semblance of my former self. I only agreed to these measures knowing that one sister would be assigned to me day and night, armed with a bolt pistol and the knowledge to use it, should my fractured mind invite in the daemonic. It is reassuring. However, in spite of the chemical therapies, the cleansing of scourging, and the peace and calm of the sanitarium's gardens, the sisters feel that the only safe way to release me from madness is with a selective lobotomy to scrub the memories of the Libro Nero di Lavam from my mind. I eagerly await the procedure. Yet I must write you of my reading of the profane text, and my analysis of its contents before I lose the memories that haunt my waking hours as well as my dreams. If not, my suffering will have been in vain.

 

As I am sure you recall, an infiltration cell of Throne Agents, under the direction and sponsorship of you, Inquisitor Chella Bonatelo, had reached the Black Maw Warband's base at Howler's Charn on the former Imperial world of Frederic III, disguised as unscrupulous arms merchants. Their mission was a failure with the entire cell being killed or captured shortly after landing. Those captured were held prisoner in the Tower of the Voice, under the supervision of the Black Maw Dark

Apostle Lavam. Lavam took great delight in stripping the allegiances of the agents to the Golden Throne, using a combination of torture and subversive arguments. Before Agent Olover was broken, he managed to escape by making a key impression of the cell lock out of heated, malleable, soap, than somehow baking the key until it was hard enough to turn the lock. Before he exited the Tower of the Voice, he slipped into Lavam's office and stole a book that was opened on his desk. He than stowed away aboard a ship of the infamous Zanizar Network, and when the ship smuggled illicit goods to Jaxon's Fields, he escaped with the book. Due to the nature of the book, and my special education in the guarded reading of profane tomes such as this text, I was tasked with searching the text for information that may be of use to the Inquisition. Without further explanation, here are my findings.

 

Overview

The book is called the Libro Nero di Lavam. It is bound in black sharkskin, with a golden eye of the Great Betrayer the only exterior marking. A gene-lock was placed in a gold clasp that held the book shut, but this was overcome by one of Inquisitor Chella Bonatelo's specialist. The specialist informed me that a trio of Vaskan Censor Worms were held in stasis in the binding of the book, and that if the lock was not overcome with the greatest of care, the worms would have been revived and eaten the book in the blink of an eye.

 

The Libro Nero di Lavam is something of a personal memoir and a esoteric lab book. It is a journal which includes a collection of dark knowledge, either gathered or created by Lavam.

 

Section I. Illustrations

This section is devoted to blasphemous artwork. Most are sketches done by an experienced artist, however there are a few full color illustrations. The subject matter covers several known and a few unknown breeds of daemon, along with vivisected mutants, scenes of unholy rites, a page filled from bottom to top with skulls, what is believed to be a self-portrait, and the most vile of pornography. In a failed attempt to preserve my sanity, I did not spend much time on this section. I believe it may have served either as inspiration for the author, or possibly be an insidious trap, designed to corrupt those who opened the book by burning such foul imagery into the memory of the reader. What has been seen, can not be unseen, no matter how hard I try. Yet, ignoring the subject matter, the artwork is exquisite, worthy to hang on the wall of a Lord Governor's palace. That is if they weren't so blasphemous.

 

Section II. Journal.

In true chaotic fashion, the journal does not seem to follow any chronological order. Some entries are apparently memories of earlier events. Several entries are separated by blank pages. Others run from one entry into the next. Some entries contradict previous entries, or that of known information about the Black Maw and its parent legion. Another aspect of this section that confounded me, was that there were entries that described failures, personal and professional, which in my opinion, adds to the veracity of his journal, yet in other entries, he clearly lies, and for no obvious gain. I get the impression that this Lavam must lie so much, it has become a habit, he even lies to himself within his journal. In spite of the obvious heretical nature of Lavam, I find a twinge of admiration for his willpower, for being able to persevere in the face of so many trials he describes. Important intelligence gleaned from this section includes:

 

1. Lavam, Lord Carrack, and nearly all of the officers, as well as some of the rank and file, have origins dating back to the Great Crusade.

 

2. Lavam was the first to openly worship the Dread Four, and leads most of the warband's religious ceremonies.

 

3. Lavam has a key role in the indoctrination of newly corrupted or created Astartes.

 

4. Lavam has set up an academy in Howler's Charn, (and may have done so in other locations as well) to train cult magos and cult recruiters.

 

5. Lavam oversees the desecration of cathedrals to the Emperor, along with the conversion of conquered worlds to the heretical worship of the Dark Gods.

 

6. Lavam rarely ventures into combat anymore, but is quite formidable when he does.

 

7. Lavam is untrusting of Lord Carrack and the other officers of the Black Maw.

 

8. The corruption of Ganda, the Tyr system, and Bulltop II, were all the direct result of his nefarious activities. There are numerous others.

 

Section III Oratory and Apologetics

 

This section records some of his speeches and sermons that he felt were particularly effective or noteworthy. It also details intellectual arguments about the existence of the Dark Gods, and why someone should put their faith in them over that of the distant Golden Throne.

 

Judging by his speeches and sermons, all penned by his own hand, it must be awe inspiring to hear him speak. Not that I would ever countenance doing such a thing, just that his speeches and sermons, no doubt were successful in winning new converts, and strengthening the convictions of the Black Maw.

 

The Apologetics were the most seditious words in the Libro Nero di Lavam. I have to admit that the logic of Lavam's arguments was hard to refute. I must confess that in spite of my abundant faith in the Emperor of Mankind, I have never seen His miracles, yet the works of the dark gods are plentiful, and easily produced. Thus most of his arguments were not done with mere words, but with demonstrations of the power of the warp. And what wondrous demonstrations! The twisting and manipulation of flesh as if it was clay in the hands of a sculptor, the vitality to withstand the most extreme torments, the sights, the sounds, the sensations, the undiluted essence of rage, more powerful and stimulating than even the eversor cocktail! I must pause, the sisters are growing concerned with my demeanor.

 

Section IV. Rituals and Rites

 

This section begins with detailing the rites of worship common to the Black Maw Warband, such as pre and post battle sacrifices, ritual branding of slaves, and semi-regular rites. Some of these come from the Black Legion, while others are organic to this Warband. Lavam talks of this as an analogy of the relationship with the Warband to the Legion. They share some things in common, yet they still maintain a culture that is noticeably unique. Since the reign of Lord Carrack, all of the rituals involve blood, something that occasionally riles the "purist" principals of Lavam. Deeper into this section are rituals with more than just a symbolic meaning. Rituals to beseech the gods for favor, rituals to call forth the neverborn on the eve of battle, rituals that bind a willing fallen angel to one of the Four. Rituals that call forth possessing daemons into unconcerned hosts, rituals so foul, so damning, yet so beautiful to read about and envision. Rituals I have attempted in secret with the blood of rats found in my cell while my watcher's eyes glazed over with fatigue. I will have success before they rip the beauty and clarity of the true gods from my mind, even if I have to kill to get it. I will. I. The 16th Beast of the Final Days will snuff the light, from Candlebright. A new Prince will arise, to friend and foe's surprise. Yet the fabled Candle of Light, may well fade to darkness Black as night. The Maw of the Black Beast, will devour its bloody feast. The Raven Protectors and the Knights of Grey, will see the

 

Note. Dear Inquisitor Chella Bonotello,

We have completed your task of drawing out the information you requested from Adept Cassi. I know you requested my mission to turn over the information to one of your many flunkies, but being as these are the last words of a man under your employ, I send them to you, so there is no doubt of what you have done to this poor adept. No further information will be forthcoming from Cassi, as I have exorcized the malign influences in his head and heart with blessed mass reactive bolts from my own side arm.

 

"I do not need to know the ways of the heretic, I only need to know his location so that my mace may smite him." -St Juniper.

 

Sincerely Palatine Caroll

 

 

Reply. Dear Revered Palatine Carroll,

Even if Adept Cassi didn't know the danger involved to his soul when I assigned him the Libro Nero di Lavam, for which he assuredly did, I would still not have hesitated in assigning him the text, even knowing the toll it would take upon the brave adept. I probably will do something similar again, maybe even now as we correspond. So rest easy tonight, knowing that there are men and women like me and Cassi out there in the dark, doing what must be done for the sake of the Imperium.

 

 

Captain Garaduk One-Eye is a former captain of one of the original Sons of Horus companies that formed the Black Maw. As such, he commands the allegiance of roughly one third of the legionaries of the warband. However, their allegiance is not strong enough to follow Garaduk wholesale, should the captain strike off on his own. In part, this is because he has pledged his service to Nurgle, and most of his original company has not followed suit.

 

Garaduk's patronage of Nurgle came after an unsanctioned pilgrimage to the fetid Garden of Nurgle. This pilgrimage has caused friction between the captain and his lord. Some of this friction has eased after the battle for Calebra Hive, where it was Garaduk who discovered the Black Mace, and bound a daemon to him with it. Garaduk's relationship with his patron god is also strained, Nurgle always wanting more from Garaduk, while the captain strives to maintain his independence.

 

The Garden

 

 

Alone Garaduk entered the so-called "Garden". His voyage to this festering swamp, the epitome of festering swamps, was a costly and long one. Lord Carrack would never have sanctioned such a quest, so Garaduk was forced to contract one of the many renegade pirate captains that had attached themselves to the Black Maw Warband with all of the loyalty of thieving mercenaries. Few had the courage to embark on such a journey into the heart of the Eye, and most who would agree to such a passage, would see him make a much shorter journey out an airlock as soon as the passage price changed hands. But Garaduk had not survived Millenia of war, intrigue, and betrayal to fall prey to some mortal pirate. His price would only be paid upon his return to Howler's Charn, and was enticing enough to lure one pirate, Captain Beshar, into excepting the use of a company's worth of Black Legionaries to raid a rich, but secluded mining world in Imperial space following his personal quest.

 

The flies were thick, black, bloated,

and hairy, they clouded Garaduk's power armor sensors, and clogged the intakes of his jump pack and atmospheric filters. He was running on internal atmosphere anyway, else he would have already contracted dozens of diseases in spite of the filters efficiency. If Garaduk examined the secret recesses of his mind, the memories he had so carefully hidden from himself behind adamantine walls of denial, he would not have bothered with the precautions. He was dying anyway. In spite of his super-human Astartes physiology, irregardless of the limited immortality that came from living in the warp, the years had finally caught up to Garaduk. His body was breaking down, his organs were slowly loosing their enhanced efficiency, his wounds were taking longer and longer to heal, he woke with soreness, and rested in excruciating pain. Embarrassingly, even his demigod's physique was giving way to a paunchy gut. When he had finally allowed himself to be examined by one of his thralls who was trained as a chirurgeon, he was told he had contracted a deadly disease that was attacking his body on a genetic level, a mere mortal would have withered away within hours, but he had a few months to find a cure. There was no cure in the Black Maw's Apothecarium, and likely, none in all of realspace. The thrall-wizards did not have the skill to purge the disease, and the Black Maw sorcerers could not be trusted with such a weakness from a captain in the warband. But no matter how hard he hid this difficult truth from himself, deep down he knew he had to take whatever measures he could to find a cure, and he had to do so quickly.

 

Garaduk had heard the legends. He had heard of the Garden of Eddeon, la Fuente de la Juventud, and the Swamps of Immortality. He also had heard of the truth behind these myths, that truth was the Garden of Nurgle, and if he made pilgrimage there, he could find succor from the disease at the cost of binding himself to the Grandfather. Or he would be slain by disease, and his soul bound to Nurgle anyway. Garaduk hoped he had enough to offer the Dark God to still serve as an Astartes.

 

As he made his way through the swamp, a thick overhead branch finally rotted away from its trunk and fell with a splash at Garaduk's feet. Three little spiteful neverborn, with bloated bellies, and gangly limbs, clawed out of the maggot infested bark, laughing as if they had just been told the funniest joke. One hopped up onto a decomposing corpse of who knew what, and with hands on its hips said, "Garaduk, nice of you to join the party." Then fell backwards into the mire, laughing. The second Nurgling, squatted down and quickly defecated into its hand and flung the foul missile at the third Nurgling, striking it in the back of its head. Then, stuck out the same soiled hand to Garaduk as if he expected to shake hands in greeting. The third Nurgling dove into the murky water and surfaced behind the captain, and went to bite the less armored section behind his knee with its filthy needlepoint teeth. Vaguely amused by the jovial, yet disgusting little buggers, Garaduk mule kicked back and sent the third Nurgling flying into a bramble, while using the forward lunge of his upper body to mince the feces flinger with his lightning claw. He quickly recovered to a crouching stance with his ensorcelled flamer pointed directly at the first Nurgling as it rose from the muck. "Take me to the manse of your master." Garaduk commanded with a weary voice. The Nurgling, never taking its eyes off of the nozzle of the deadly weapon, chuckled, "Your not dressed appropriately for a party at my Grandfather's house, Garaduk." The second time the daemon had used his name did not go unnoticed by the Legionnaire, but he was not going to show concern to this little daemon. Garaduk was certain that his exploits within the Eye of Terror, and without, had elicited some degree of attention from the neverborn, and knew that they tried every trick they could to seem more powerful than they were. In response, Garaduk flicked the pilot light of the hell-forged flamer to spout a green flame before the nozzle. In a whining voice, the Nurgling responded, "Wether you roast me or not, you still can not enter the manse without bearing His Mark. Follow me and I will show you were you are to receive yours Garaduk."

 

Garaduk lost all track of time following the little wretch. His internal clock, honed to perfection from countless precision combat operations, along with his power armor's chrometer were unreliable in this hellish swamp. His pace count, a measure of the distance he had travelled, normally was as reliable as any laser or orbital measuring system, also failed him as his guide led him in a twisting route through thickets, bogs, and stagnant pools. At times he could hear monotonous chanting, or the gurgling, coughing laughter of lungs wracked with consumption, but he never saw their source. However, he had the persistent feeling that he was weakening with every step, his armored boots dragged in the muck, and his weapons grew heavier with each step. Finally he reached a clearing of relatively dry land with a tree in the center. The tree was a thing out of the nightmares of a lunatic. The branches were rotting bones that swayed without wind. The roots were barbed with horns and teeth, and seemed to rip into the soft ground unnaturally, as if they were intending to not only take in the soil's nutrients and moisture, but to inflict pain while doing so. Faces, contorted with agony, slowly emerged out of the parasite infested bark, only to submerge back into the core of a tree the way a drowning victim, exhausted from keeping his head out of water, finally relents to his fate and sinks into the sea. Even in this warp damned garden, the aura of the tree was heavy with despair.

 

In spite of Garaduk's primal instincts screaming at him to distance himself from this tree, or at least burn it to the ground, Garaduk was overcome with weariness, and he stumbled forward to slump down against the tree and rest. It wasn't just the weariness, Garaduk recognized that something powerful was controlling his body like a puppet, he was just to tired to fight it. Was it a moment, an hour, a day that he sat there against the tree in the Garden of Nurgle? Garaduk would never know, but as time passed, his weariness was replaced with an unholy vitality. The disease that was killing him did not leave his body, but through the connection with the tree, warped from a weakness to a strength, he conquered it and used its suffering as a reminder of his fight for survival. His pain remained, but instead of antagonizing him, it soothed him, and reminded him that he was alive! His pauldron, and he was certain the flesh underneath warped to show the Mark of Nurgle, the brand of allegiance to the Lord of Decay.

 

The Nurgling guide, with a voice now tinged with awe and reverence, said, "You are now ready to go to our Grandfather's manse and meet with our master." Garaduk stood up and stepped away from the tree contemplating the Nurgling's statement. He then keyed the vox code to Captain Beshar as he answered, "I have what I came here for. Someday, I am sure I will end up in that manse, but not today." He squeezed the trigger on the ensorcelled flamer and burnt the Nurgling to ash as a growing pair of lights descended from orbit. The vox flicked an acknowledgment of Garaduk's pyrotechnic marking of his pick up location, and Garaduk soon escaped the Garden of Nurgle.

 

 

 

 

Vinno, was the Champion of the Chosen of Lord Carrack. As such, he served both as the leader of a unit that answered directly to Lord Carrack, and as sort of a representative for the core of veterans that are the backbone of the warband with the officers of the Black Maw, although this role was tainted somewhat by the common belief that he was the personal errand boy of the Lord of the Black Maw. Vinno, like his squad, was firmly in the sway of the Blood God.

 

During the invasion of the Aspis subsector, Vinno was murdered by one of the other Chosen of Lord Carrack. The squad is currently without a champion, and is being led in the interim by their icon bearer. Vinno's murder, has not only put the leadership of the Chosen in question, but will likely shift the dynamics of the entire warband, as he was seen by many as a likely successor, and a successor who would cause the least amount of change in how the warband is led.

 

Sons of Horus Sergeant Vinno

Designated 16-144-8-6

 

After donning his horned, black great helm, Vinno, the Champion of the Chosen, looked over the assembled forces in the assault bay. Horrors of humanity's past once again made ready for war on their grandfather's soil below, as they had done so many times before. The scene had changed, as had the act, but the actors still played their same roles, save one, the lord of the Black Maw, he had assumed the role of the protagonist, the role of their father. Lord Carrack stood in the midst, directing the assault as well as his ship, The Bitter Revenge, all the while addressing his men. Vinno ignored the words of his lord, he had heard them all before. Instead he remembered the words of his father that fateful day so long ago, at the start of it all. His father had spoken words of illumination. The words that had lifted the curtain on the lies of the Emperor. The words that had revealed the reward of their efforts in the Great Crusade, to be discarded for bureaucrats and administrators, to be cast aside like some tool that had lost its usefulness. Words that had revealed the truth behind the mask of secularity. Words that unveiled the glory of the Dark Gods. His father had spoken words of betrayal. Words spoken so eloquently, as only their father could, that they twisted the act of patricide into a noble and necessary act of vengeance. Words that not only betrayed everything they had previously fought for, but ultimately betrayed his legion, leaving them broken and lost, exiled to hell. Perhaps it would have been different if they had won. Vinno no longer cared. He knew he would finish what was started that day, not today, not tomorrow, but the final act was coming soon.

 

They entered the assault craft, just as they had done above the birthplace of humanity. Vinno looked over the Chosen of Lord Carrack as they strapped into the inertia harnesses silently, save for the insane mutterings of Paimun, and the frothing mantras of blood and skulls from his icon bearer, "Saint" Tiam. They had all been on the deck of the assault bay of the Vengeful Spirit, but none had been under his command that day, for those Astartes had been lost 10,000 years earlier. He had long since forgotten their names. He wished he could forget that inglorious day in its entirety.

 

The assault bay opened. The dock clamps released. The pod rushed out the magnetic launching rails to fall on the world below. In spite of the countless times Vinno had dropped since Terra, a tingle went up his spine to raise the hairs on the back of his neck. It must have been the result of his ruminating over the memories of Terra. It had gone catastrophically bad. Just like the battle had gone at large. Upon entry to the polluted atmosphere of the Throne World, an AAA round had struck his pod. The pod had been holed. Fragments had ricocheted around the interior of the pod, killing most of his squad and damaging the guidance system. Vinno's pod had skewed off course by a matter of a few degrees, but at an altitude where a fraction of a degree was enough to take him away from the sprawling palace of the Emperor. Away from his objective to secure the breech in the walls, and have any chance of impacting his fate and the fate of his brothers. He had screamed in rage the whole way down, to the surprise of the Chosen, he did so now as well. They stirred with the passion of his anger, his old squad that day would never stir again.

 

The pod slammed into the tundra and blew open its doors. On Terra, Vinno's pod had crashed into the ground on its side, partially burying itself in debris after only one of its retro jets had fired. The crash had killed the remainder of his squad save one, he remembered his name now, Callan. But Callan had taken a severe wound when a steel girder broke through the drop pods topmost door and smashing his helmet, and the skull beneath it to one side. Callan had gone into a regenerative coma. Poor Callan, he had been locked into his harness, and blocked the only way out of the ruined pod. As Vinno stepped out of the pod he currently had dropped in, he drew the same power sword that had cut him free from his pod on Terra, at the cost of his last squad members life. Today he would not be as hesitant as he was back then, if similar circumstances presented themselves. As the Chosen followed him out the pod, and into the burning breech in the walls of the snow covered city, Vinno commenced slaughtering every Imperial he could find, just as he had done in the data sinks of Western Anatolia, the site of his ignoble crash back on Terra, with the seed planted with uncontrollable rage that day, having grown into the monster he had become.

 

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

 

"Adept Tertious Hanzel, you have been warned about recording that number many times." Said Adept-Controller Pinnious. The Junior Adept, still bleeding from the beating, replied, "But if I didn't record 1614486, the resupply of ration packs would never have been sent to the Pillars of Fortitude, and they are besieged, the guardsmen there could starve." The Adept-Controller replied, "So they starve, we have our orders to never record that number, no matter the consequences. So you will report to Reclamator Section, and they will determine your fate, wether that is penitence and further chastisement, or to submit to servitor lobotomy." A trickle of warm liquid ran down Hanzel's leg. He asked, "Can you at least tell me why that number is taboo?" After a moment the Adept-Controller replied, "In a long forgotten time, this data sink was set upon by one of the Arch-Enemy. It is said that he had the number 16-144-8-6 painted across his armor. He slew so many of His servants in this data sink, that it was decreed by the Adept-High Recorder that that number would never again be counted or recorded in this data sink again."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recent Campaigns

The conquest of the Siliquastrum SubSector.

 

This began 50 years ago with the invasion and conquest of Frederic III, now called Hell's Holdfast. The Black Maw was able to hold the world against the initial counter invasion by defeating Battlefleet Siliquastrum at the Battle of Fewood. This allowed Lord Carrack to fortify Hell's Holdfast, and establish it as a major pirate port, which with a subsector Battlefleet in shambles, further destabilized the subsector. Frequent raiding and the propagation of chaos cults added to the bleak outlook for the Imperium in this subsector, until a powerful Black Templar Crusade under the command of Marshall Clarence took up the plight of Siliquastrum.

 

Fourteen years ago, the Black Maw embarked on a raid that culminated with an attack on the subsector seat, the Red Hive of Siliquastrum. The Black Templars were able to chase the Black Maw out of the system, but not before they inserted a strike team into the lower levels of the Red Hive. This strike team was able to secure a text sacred to the Word Bearers Legion, and planted a techno-sorcerous bomb in the bowels of the Red Hive. When the bomb detonated, it destroyed the entire hive and the subsector leadership with it.

 

Meanwhile, Lord Carrack had gathered a massive army of mutants, cultist, and renegades at Hell's Holdfast in preparation for the next phase of his campaign. Before the next phase could begin, however, Marshall Clarence and the remnants of Battlefleet Siliquastrum, along with dozens of Imperial Guard Regiments, began a meticulous investment of Hell's Holdfast's system. Slowly clearing through the system defenses, the crusade was able to establish a beachhead on the north pole of the world. Unfortunately for the Imperials, this was a trap. Lord Carrack had deliberately weakened the system defenses in order to channel the Imperials into making planet fall near an orbital lance array at the North Pole. This lance array was trapped with a bound daemon inside it's power core. Once the ground forces were deployed, the lance array went into critical overload and wiped out the ground forces of the Imperial Crusade.

 

With the Black Templar threat neutralized, the subsector command in shambles trying to rebuild, and the whole Siliquastrum subsector destabilized, the Black Maw launched the final stage of their invasion. Utilizing their own elite forces, their massive renegade army, and Word Bearer mercenaries eager to have access to the sacred text uncovered in the Red Hive, the Black Maw conquered two more worlds from the subsector, and raids the rest mercilessly. Some of the raided worlds, are seeking to mitigate the worst of their predation by offering tribute, or at least negotiating a schedule for the raids so that they have time to recover before the next attack. Lord Carrack would like to see these terms honored and expanded, but knows that his legionaries would rather pillage than collect taxes and rule, so he currently lets the situation run its natural coarse.

 

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/307717-the-doom-of-red-siliquastrum/?do=findComment&comment=4062505

 

The Fires of Calebra Hive

 

Ten years ago, the Black Maw launched an invasion of Calebra Hive, with permission from the Warmaster. Calebra Hive was the most important city to the Luminan subsector, a neighboring subsector to Siliquastrum. The hive was well protected from orbital assault, so Lord Carrack launched a three pronged spear tip attack on the upper, middle, and lower levels of the hive, after discovering a secret entrance to a forgotten freight lift, from outside the city's walls. The Black Maw were unsuccessful in conquering the hive before it was relieved by Grey Knights and Raven Guard. Yet they were able to fill the holds of their ships with plunder and slaves, and recovered the powerful artifact known as the Black Mace. After filling his fleet's holds with booty, Lord Carrack opted to destroy the city, rather than leave it to the Imperium. The destruction of Calebra Hive strained the Luminan subsector's defenses and economy, allowing Lord Carrack to unleash his pirate raiders, and much of his fleet on the subsector. The destabilization of the Luminan subsector further solidified the Black Maw's hold on the neighboring Siliquastrum subsector.

 

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/312127-assault-on-calebra-hive/

 

The Thousand Sons Encroachment, and the Hunt for the Wanderer

 

With much of the fleet and army of the Black Maw released to plunder the Luminan subsector, an old rival saw an easy opportunity to take Lord Carrack's lightly defended domain. A Thousand Sons sorcerer lord, Hamurk-Sethi, amassed a force within the Eye of Terror, and began encroaching into Black Maw territory. There was no way Lord Carrack could recall his forces in time to defend his territory, however, Hamurk-Sethi's plot did not go unnoticed by the Warmaster, and Abbaddon offered Lord Carrack the assistance of the legion against the Thousand Sons. In return for the Despoiler's halting of the Thousand Sons' advance, he demanded that Lord Carrack complete a quest.

 

The quest was to capture the enigmatic Wanderer, who was believed to be on the Imperial world of Odeanta, just beyond the Eye of Terror. The Wanderer, a Prince of Daemons, had been attempting to map out a stable route out of the Eye of Terror by viewing the fluctuations of the great warp storm through the lens of a peculiar radiation emanating from the moon of Odeanta. However, others were searching for the Wanderer as well, namely, his Unforgiven brothers.

 

The Wanderer was tracked down by Lord Carrack, and after a three way battle between the Unforgiven, the Black Maw strike force, and the forces of the Wanderer, Lord Carrack

emerged victorious, capturing the Wanderer, and handing him over to Abaddon. The encroachment of the Thousand Sons immediately ceased, uncannily so.

 

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/316163-the-wanderer/?do=findComment&comment=4309605

 

Breaking the Shield

 

Currently, the Black Maw has invaded the Aspis subsector. With help from the incomplete map of the Wanderer, a passage was found out of the Eye of Terror into the Aspis sub. Lord Carrack moved his fleet through the Eye, to surprise the Imperium through this unexpected passage. However, the passage is not completely stable, and the Black Maw was forced to translate into the Tancrean System, in order to consolidate his fleet as it was spread out through time by the tides of the warp. This was not the first time an invasion spilled out of the Eye to crash upon the Tancrean system and its vaunted Pillars of Fortitude, Tancrea had been designated as a fortress world, and it's system fortified to prevent an invasion from passing into the Aspis subsector. Rather than trying to overcome the defenses of Tancrea, Lord Carrack personally led a three pronged teleport strike on a cluster of orbital defense stations, and then landed the bulk of his mortal army through the opening he had created. The defenders of the fortress world have been tied up with the invading army, and unable to stop the Black Maw from using the system as a safe harbor to translate into, from the Eye of Terror.

 

With the defenders of Tancrea tied up with his mortal army, Lord Carrack split his fleet and legionaries up to launch multiple attacks throughout the Aspis sub, rapidly crippling vital targets like the Venicus Shipyards, and picking off lightly defended targets like the agri-world of Calimyr. In response, Lord Aspis, the Subsector Commander, has mobilized a vast army to defend against the invaders. He has also called out to the Angels of Immolation Chapter of His Adeptus Astartes, to assist him in defending his subsector. The Angels of Immolation have responded with the full strength of their chapter.

 

The defenders' strategy is to bolster the defenses of the worlds not yet under assault with newly founded regiments of Imperial Guard, as well as send in enough regiments to dislodge the invaders from Tancrea, and cut off the Black Maw from being resupplied from the Eye. At the same time, the Angels of Immolation are attempting to destroy as much of the Black Maw Fleet as possible, while they are still divided.

 

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/319223-the-shield/

[Tiger9gamer]

Very nice job so far! I'm enjoying this quite a bit.

[NightHowler]

Wow.  Very well written, lots of intricate detail, and nice variations of style throughout.  I enjoyed it a lot, and don't have much to offer by way of criticism. 

[Doctor Perils]

Hi there, his seems rather interesting, even if I haven't had time to read all the way through.

 

I do feel however like the presentation of the article could do with some polishing, as it is a bit daunting to look a what seems to be a large wall of text. I know it isn't, but the titles are too small to be very distinctive. It is also good to see some "sideboxes" (Throne knows I don't do enough of these), but placing them in spoilers isn't the best choice.

 

I recommend you having a look at the BBCode Guide.

 

I personnally like using the basicheader tag for titles:

[basicheader=000000]Hello![/basicheader]

looks like this:

Hello!

 

the rightsidebar is also good, but it seems to not be working at the moment.

 

 

Also, for the organisation of the article, you should place all "holdings" texts in the same large section, but separate off the gene-seed and appearance into their own independent sections. The appearance section also looks best with a picture created thanks to the Bolter & Chainsword Chaos Space Marine Painter, and possibly their logo if you have any google-fu or vector graphics skills.