Depraved Slaanesh Chaos Lord
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Prologue
"Loyalty".... "Honour".... "Pride", these were the things that made Romulus Aredic Greythroat the man he was, they were inscribed on his very skin, the tattoos a lasting reminder of the price of vengeance. His hands now are scarred with the wounds of battle, but not the usual scars of injury. These were scars on his soul, the murder and bloodshed was powerful reason of his current state of mind.
Sitting astride his great Thunderwolf Bloodmaw with his battleaxe gripped in one hand, he gazed out at the snows before him, stained with the blood of his friends, and that of his enemies. Moments before he had been charging forward, next to his battle brother Harridus, then all hell broke loose. The cultists they were charging suddenly melted as a device tore through the fabric of their bodies, and extended to the charging Thunderwolf cavalry squad. It was pure luck that Romulus survived, the energies of the device expended on killing his friends and enemies it had no longer the strength to destroy him as well.
Twin thuds as he dismounts. Snow kicked up as the impact of his heavy body slams into the frozen ground. Romulus slowly walks between the rows of dead, identifying each of his brothers. Behind him Bloodmaw howled in anguish and pain at the loss of their friends and pack members. The sheer emotion rumbling from the Thunderwolf's throat brought tears of anger to Romulus's eyes, this wasn’t over yet.
A swish and thud as he swung his axe into the corpse of a cultist, tears falling freely down his scarred
cheeks into his long grey beard. Throwing his head back he adds his own harsh voice to Bloodmaw's lament, the pair of them echoing their grief into the darkening sky. Slowly his voice dyed away to be replaced by a slow hymn sung in an old dialect of Latin that is nearly incomprehensible. Slowly moving between the bodies of his comrades he lays them side by side, arms crossed over their chests and swords by their sides. After this grim task he mounted Bloodmaw once more and slowly rode back to the Space Wolf encampment, the report still had to be made and he now had the life of a lone wolf ahead of him.
Romulus mounts Bloodmaw and slowly he and his old friend begin to head to their base, reaching the outskirts he radios in his position and the situation,
"A Swiftclaw pack will guide you home brother"
tracking his way through the snow he thinks about the information that he recovered at the chaos base, their mission was to find the chaos stronghold on the planet and report back on its location and size.
The base was massive it cleared several hundred acres of land for a massive sprawling complex filled with yelling warriors of chaos and their living vehicles.
It was a true hell, every step showed the cavalry images of daemons and visions of things they had spent their lives suppressing, the whispers of the chaos gods reached out to them even there,
the cavalry nearly lost their minds, and even then Romulus wasn’t sure if what he had just seen actually happened. Was it another vision from the chaos gods spaced into a split second? Or did it really happen? Was he dead?
The sounds of the Swiftclaw bikes reaches Romulus shaking him out of his reverie, a group of rowdy Bloodclaws astride the gargling beasts of bikes they were rambunctious as ever making jokes and performing tricks in the snowy ground.
Bloodmaw turns his nose to the approaching bikers and lets out a stiff warning growl
The Bloodclaws, instantly respectful, slow to a stop and yell into the snowy air, "Brother Romulus we have been sent to bring you and the great Bloodmaw home, follow us brother"
Chapter one:
As the columns of tanks grind past Romulus stare into the gloom, his naturally enhanced Space wolf senses picking out even the softest detail in the low light environment of the night world, Vexatus ultra. The chaos forces on the planet were ones he had seen before, 35 years ago on the snow world of Taranus X. It was the same group of Dark Mechanicus and the servants of those who detonated the device that killed his pack.
Seeing something of interest snaps Romulus out of his reverie, time to think on the past later. He urges Blood’ forwards and dismounts. In the foliage of the low shrubbery, he finds a discarded bolter, overgrown and covered in Chaos livery. The pattern of the Bolter is old, Mk II at the latest, the clip is empty and the weapons trigger mechanism is completely shot. Standing up he looks around with interest, now that he is looking he realizes that there are many spend bolters and flamers, also many close combat chainswords and power weapons, rusted and broken in the undergrowth of the planet. He sweeps the dirt back from around the bolter and his fingers brush something smooth and round, he digs down and unearths a full shoulder pauldron of chaos, still bearing the livery of the Dark Mechanicus.
“This is definitely the place Blood” Romulus looks around, “we’ve found them at last.” Romulus remounts Bloodmaw, and still holding the pauldron he moves over to the head tank in the column. Reaching over he raps a hand on the side door of the massive vehicle. The great tank moves over to the side of the path, crushing yet more foliage beneath its tracks. The door swings open and a Tall figure, in imposing power armour of incredibly old lineage, steps out of the tank. The Inquisitor lord Flarinus Vren was a revered warrior of the Grey Knights chapter. His crusade against the forces of chaos, and the daemons with them is legendary in itself. Reaching down from Bloodmaw’s back Romulus hands the Inquisitor the Pauldron. “I found this nearby; there are weapons and armour buried beneath the ground, none serviceable. It’s a battle field.”
The inquisitor looks at the Pauldron for a long time, examining the heraldry, finally he looks at Romulus, and hands him the Pauldron. “It appears you will finally get your revenge brother, for the Emperor”
Romulus nods to the Inquisitor “Pro Totus Abbas, do you wish me to scout ahead?”
The inquisitor looks carefully around before speaking, “No that is the task of the inquisitorial storm troopers, your role in this battle will come when our brothers in the Battle barge, “Tide of Purity” teleport in their sacred tactical dreadnought armour, down into the fortress, and you will be there to aid them in the final push for the citadel.”
“As you command lord Vren, if you wish I will head the assault into the base.”
“No their heavy weapons will cut you down, you may wish for a glorious death brother but that is suicide, there is nothing glorious in suicide.”
“You are right, I will await the breaching of the main walls before I begin my charge, any word from the my brethren on the planet?”
“Yes the comm. came through just before you requested my audience, the wolf scouts have infiltrated the enemy base and are planting charges around the citadel, the land raiders of your great company along with the vindicator and predators are preparing to siege the base, and five of your great company pack leader’s wolf guard packs are ready to Storm the fortress, other forces are still approaching in rhinos, however the long claws have set up fire points on one of the planets cliff walls, using the natural overhang as cover, their razorbacks are also in position to fire upon the enemy.”
“And your forces?”
“The grey knights of my company are moving into position on the other side of the fortress; it is only this column of heavy support that is missing from the breaching lines. We are very nearly late, but I thank you for this new intelligence, it shows that the defenses on this planet have been tested before.”
“And what does that mean for us?”
“That we have a long battle ahead of us.”
The column of tanks continues forwards, grinding through the undergrowth of the night worlds forests. Eventually they come to a great open plain, with armies of the Emperor of main arrayed on all sides, Bloodmaw howls at the sight of so many friendly people to play with after the battle, Romulus looks down at his old friend, and thinks to himself “he still acts like a pup near armies..”
Drawing his weapon he reaches it into the air and yells the old War cry of his company “FOR THE BLACK WOLF, PRO TOTUS ABBAS, FOR THE ALLFATHER!!!!!!!”
Heads turn all around to the massive figure astride the even more massive Thunderwolf. As Romulus yells his war cry the hearts of all the loyal soldiers are lifted, the flagging morale bolstered and the spirit of the emperor reinforced in all.
At about that moment the tanks begin to grind forwards, Vindicators pounding shell after shell into the city walls heedless of the shots whistling and crackling around them, Land raiders move forwards laying waste to enemy assault vehicles.
Out of the gloom a terrifying shape appears a defiler of the chaos forces. It upends a land raider and rips it apart, the explosion sending ripples over the ground. A captain turns to Romulus and yells “We need your aid great wolf rider”. Romulus sees his duty and urges Bloodmaw forwards, the great wolf leaps up into the air and bounds forwards, once they are in range of the defilers close combat arms the pair begin evading the weapons in earnest, Bloodmaw traps one of the defilers flails in his mouth and wrenches the daemon engine to the ground, using the distraction that Bloodmaw caused Romulus leaps of Blood’s back and onto the main chassis.
Wrenching the top hatch of the defiler open he looks down into its chassis, inside is a daemon of the warp, massive and coated in flowing runes, the bound daemon looks up at him and screams in rage and pain, grimly Romulus unpins a grenade and drops it into the chassis with the daemon, holding the hatch closed he feels the shudder as the bomb explodes, quickly opening the hatch he plunges his knife up to its hilt in the daemons flesh, the daemon screams briefly before it disappears into the warp.
The Defiler crashes to the ground and Romulus is thrown clear, Bloodmaw bounds over to him and Romulus climbs onto his back. Seeing the great engine wrecked the surrounding inquisitorial storm troopers yell in delight as they see their champion rise in triumph.
As the tanks widen the breach in the wall terrifying shapes materialize around the vehicles, hulking fusions of flesh and steel lumber through the gloom, multiple discharges of energy kicking out from their arcane weapons.
As the obliterators close with the tanks a group of Grey knights battle brothers close with the enemy, several fall to bursts of plasma from the enemy but the grey knights close with their foes and begin a bloody contest with the lethal Dark Mechanicus servants.
Meanwhile Chaos terminators bearing chainfists and melta weaponry recover from their deep strikes and begin to lay waste to the tanks of the Imperium. Romulus charges into this mass of powerful figures, his weapon desperately trying to find purchase in their armoured forms, Bloodmaw however has no such issues carving great furrows in the chest of a terminator and neatly biting the head off another.
The brutal fighting continues, as the last terminator and obliterator fall the tanks again resume their baleful charge. Terrific cracks can be heard as a massive section of ferrocrete wall collapses to the ground and a horde of chaos marines charge, screaming war cries onto the battle field. From somewhere inside the walls a lascannon burst rips through the land raider crusader that bears the revered inquisitor lord. Romulus yells in shock as a great fireball engulfs the vehicle and a massive shockwave rips out, throwing Grey knight and Chaos heretic to the ground alike. Romulus manages to stay on Blood’s back as the wave hits him, all that is left of the great tank is a smoldering crater.
Feeling the rage return inside his heart Romulus Bellows his War cry and charges towards his foes, cutting down marine after marine the chaos warriors cannot stand against the fury of the Space wolf. Grimly however the marines fight on, finally managing to knock Romulus from Bloodmaw’s back, as a champion of chaos wielding a great power sword prepares to deliver the fatal blow Romulus prays to the all father in supplication and desperation for salvation. His prayer is answered. From behind the Champion of Chaos half a dozen Imperial storm troopers open up with hellguns, the Champion collapses to the ground with his back ripped to shreds.
Standing Romulus thanks the storm troopers and together they begin to fight their way across the courtyard, Bloodmaw joins them, the team unstoppable. When they reach the citadel several companies of Grey knights terminators deep strike in teleporters, appearing around them. The Space wolf, Wolfguard also appear out of the gloom, hailing Romulus gladly and respectfully greeting the Grey knights. After greeting their counterparts the Grey knights turn to Romulus, the apparent leader of their force speaks to him. “Noble Lone Wolf, honored brother, our holy tactical dreadnought armour can protect us from the evils of these halls but you are bare in your defence, apart from your holy armour, let us bestow a Stormshield upon you to make your journey easier through this keep.”
Romulus dips his head and dismounts, “it would be an honour great Knight, do you have such an artifact upon your person that I may receive in the name of the Allfather?”
“Indeed I do brother” The terminator clad warrior takes a spare Stormshield from his belt holster and gives it to the Space wolf. “May this protect you in times of need”
Romulus takes the Shield reverentially, Blessing it briefly with a prayer to the Allfather he straps it to his arm.
Around him the terminators spread out, a massive V formed by their bulk, they move forwards as one the massive Thunderwolf loping behind them, Romulus’s battle-axe quivering in his fist. The group move forwards through the keep, Brother Octanius’s Purifier burning great swathes through the infested floor cover so that the holy warriors may move over it in peace and not in fear of retribution from the warp spawned horrors of the dark dank caverns of this place. Finally they reach a pair of massive doors, the pair of which throw massive arcs of darkness from their sorcerous forms. The doors themselves seem to be made of smoke, the roiling patterns upon them spreading despair to those who would look upon them, However the Astartes sense of fear has been removed, the deathless warriors who stare at these massive doors feel no terror at the crude debased images glimpsed in the doors.
One of the Grey knight’s voices booms out through the dank room, “How do we open it?”
The question remains unanswered for a time until Romulus takes the helmet from his belt and gives it to the Brother Sergeant of the group, “maybe this will help?”
The helmet of the Dark Mechanicus warrior does indeed open the way, the Grey knight tosses the helm into the door and it passes through, then the door becomes solid and easily push able. However that point becomes moot also as the massive doors swing wide open, revealing a terrifying sight. The walls are dripping with the blood of thousands, mixed with oils and grease to make a dark tableau, the doorway is framed from this ichor by a massive gargoyle that spreads the dark fluid to either side of the arcane portal.
In the centre of the room is a dark form, hunched over an altar, but still several times the height of an Astartes. The altar has a massive bleeding form upon it, the shape of a Thunderwolf is clearly defined on the slab. Romulus cries out despite himself and Bloodmaw howls, long and hard at the smell of all the blood of his brothers and friends. The massive shape turns to face the party. His skin drips from his face, arms and chest, to the floor where it slides down vents to a furnace below, the dark ichor around the walls fuelling some immense machine. But even as the skin sloughs from his tortured for it regrows. His arms are a shifting roiling mass of arcane weapons that click and shudder. One particularly long blade is coated in fresh blood, the blood of the Thunderwolf.
The terminators in front of Bloodmaw stay firm in spite of his nudging their backs, Romulus is patting his old friend, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. The terminators array themselves in a long line, all 10 of them making an impenetrable wall. The Obliterator lord in the centre of the room laughs, and one of his whirring clicking guns snaps up and unleashes a hail of massive slugs into the line but they patter harmlessly of the Stormshields and armour of the massive terminators. Again the daemon infested machine laughs faces of its many souls pushing out of the flesh of its chest only to reform and be shed of as the skin continues to fall, insidious whispers inside the minds of the Astartes are banished with holy prayers.
For the first time the Obliterator lord looks worried, both of his arms come up and begin firing bursts of lascannon and autocannon fire, clearly hoping to wear down the defences of the Knights. But when the smoke finally clears the Knights are still standing there, the grim shapes of their armour making a mockery of the firepower employed against them. Only one field was flickering and even then it stabilised.
The obliterator lord finally cracks, his enraged roar filling the room and even as he does so the very substance dripping and flowing down the walls rises up to attack the Knights, golems and daemons made of the ichor walk forwards, the heated spray coming of them splattering over the ground. Hundreds of droplets pepper the ground from dozens of these shapeless monstrosities.
The knights stay calm as Brother Octanius’s Purifier roars into life and incinerates all who come within range, the monstrosities fight forwards even through the incinerating clouds of purified promethium. Finally when the first reaches the line one of the Grey knights swings his force weapon utterly disintegrating the wretch.
From the walls hundreds of these blood golems stream down and begin to swarm forwards without warning, Octanius’s Purifier runs dry and the Grey knights pullback into a defensive ring with Romulus in the centre, impetuously wanting to charge the horrors but at the same time knowing he would do no good. It is a hell for him, seeing the Grey knights struggle with the daemons, wave after wave of them pour down the walls, it seems an endless struggle, and slowly one after another the Grey knights start to fail. Brother Perin is the first a fist of blood overwhelming his helmet and gouging out his throat. Then Brother Hagria, then more start to fall, Romulus lets out a cry and looks at the Obliterator who is still eyeing the battle with interest, Romulus finds this disturbing, why doesn’t he leave? Then he realises that the Obliterator is controlling all of the Golems himself, with this knowledge he urges Bloodmaw who leaps over the Terminators and charges the Obliterator.
The renegade turns and raises a massive weapon but it never gets there, Bloodmaw smashes a paw to the thing and crushes it to the ground, his jaw wrapping round the Chaos warriors throat, and pulling. The resulting Visceral spray of heated ichor pours over Bloodmaw who howls with pain. Almost instantly the skin and flesh of Romulus’s steed’s face drips of and he irs left with his muscles bare to the air, blood dripping to the ground. Somehow the massive wolf is still alive and Romulus leaps down cradling his friends head in his arms, “not you too, not you too”
A strong hand touches Romulus’s shoulder and over Bloodmaw’s anguished howls he can hear the sound of Brother Regela’s voice, “we can save him, but you must come with us,”
Romulus nods grimly and in a storm of cerulean light the foul room melts and then disappears.
Chapter two
Romulus stalks through the corridors of the massive ship, Bloodmaw was recovering in a medbay specially rigged to handle the massive wolf. Bloodmaw's skin had been extensivley burn and had to be replaced with ceramite scale plates. Blood's jaw was also reinforced with plasteel teeth and jawbones. The Thunderwolf was now as tough as a battle tank and had a bite like a lascannon. Romulus was thankful for the attention that the Greyknights had given to his wolf and he was getting to know some of the Inquisition warriors very well. He was drawn more towards the Inquisitorial storm troopers however as they gave their lives on the field of battle without the extensive genetic recoding that the Greyknights went through, and were just as brave. If a bit shell shocked.
"Brother Romulus we were wondering if you wanted to spar with us on the refectorium deck?"
"I Would be glad to Brother Inmar, what weapons today?"
"Simple swords, I think you can handle that?"
"Absolutely"
A grin spread across Romulus's cheeks, the Greyknights he was most fond of however were the Purifiers of the 4th strike squad. They were an unruly lot that liked to play hard but fair. They reminded him of the Brothers he lost on the snows of Formic Primus all those years ago.
Soon Romulus and the 10 Greyknights were covered with Plasteel chainmail, and had triple bonded shields strapped to thier arms, the swords they used were a simple design, an undecorated hilt, crossguard and pommel with a metre long blade. The sturdy swords could match up to even the powerful Astartes blows and never seemed to dull. Romulus took his general place in the circle they always started in, about 3 metres from his nearest sparring partner. One of the group always volunteered to be in the middle to start. This would be the man who would take the brunt of the combat, but the participants would eventually shear off into small groups of 3 or 4 to spar. But they always started in a circle, it gave them a sense of Fellowship before the full scale scrap that usually unfolded.
The Greyknights and Romulus stamped thier feet on the ground. Boom... Boom... Boom after the third resounding thud they all simoultaneously piled in. Technar smashed his shield down against Romulus's side and Romulus was momentarily off balance but spun to the right, ending up back to back with Grendin. The two simoultaneously yelled "Truce" And fought back to back for a few moments, but then Gerdin nudged Romulus's side and they yelled, "Break" and pushed forwards, using their shields as battering rams to force their way out of the press. Anouther pair of warriors quickly formed a "Truce" and the pattern repeated itself. The Greyknights and their honourary Brother Romulus fought long minutes against each other without once drawing so much as a scratch or blow on anouther member. The chainmail was just to give the Astartes some wieght on their shoulders, the 11 Men knew to never actually hit a Brother, if an opening was made it was ignored and instead the attacker would break of fromthe pair and search for a new combatant. Of which there where never short of. However soon one of them yelled "Down to the Ground" and then whenever an opening was made on a Brother the Defender would back out of the circle he was "Eliminated" and in this way the 11 men worked their way down to just 2. Romulus and his good friend Jacnai. The competition between these two was long and fierce, both knowing the others stratagems and ploys. Around them was a ring of cheering spectators, other Strike squads having learned of the pairs deul and come to watch.
The two had been battling for well over half an hour after everyone else had been "Eliminated" but niether were beggining to tire. Even so the Astartes around the ring were beginning to make bets on who would come out on top. Most cheered for Jacnai as he was popular and a true brother of the other Greyknights but there were a good number cheering for Romulus. Eventually Romulus managed to batter Jacnai's shield away and use his own shield to knock his friends sword out of his hand. The crowd yelled in exitement at the hard fought victory. The two friends exchanged a sweaty hug and clapped each others backs.
"Well fought Brother!!"
"Indeed, if we were at the Fang we would have both been given barrels of Ale for that battle."
"Wouldnt that be good my friend? I am sorry there is little in the way of alcahol here."
"Not to worry Jacnai, I went through withdrawl months ago."
"Indeed you did Brother, how long did it take? An hour?"
"To get over it? That sounds about right"
"Lets get to the showers, you stink Wolfman!!!'
"So do you Warphead"
The group hit the showers and purged their bodies of the sweat and grime of combat in the heavy Plasteel chainmail. Then they move through the belly of the ship to the Infirmaries, where Bloodmaw is recovering. When Romulus enters the room the massive wolf bounds over and gives the, now power armour clad, Romulus a huge lick that you would never expect from suge a ferocious hunter. The Greyknights all laugh,
"Romulus you have an admirer!!'
"Whens the union going to be Wolfman?"
"You want me to get him a ring?"
"Oh hush you lot, hes just happy to see me"
"We can see that!!"
Romulus laughs heartily, its just like being with bloodclaws when hes around these warriors, but Romulus knows that these Astartes loose all humour when they hit the battle field, they become an armoured wall of Daemon hunting death. Romulus sighs into his beard. They would never grow up though, he was sure of that. They were still all children in their hearts. But Romulus felt old, his 7 centuries weighed heavily on his shoulders. It wasnt for nothing that his neck was adorned with dozens of Wolftooth necklaces and his armour had Wolftail talismans hanging from many corners and ridges. And on his right knee was a pair of horizontal bands, one white, they other red, over a black background. The symbol of a Lone Wolf. And an old one at that. His armour had been repaired so many times that none of the origional plasteel remained. He shakes himself out of his reverie as the Greyknights inspect Bloodmaws plasteel and ceramite hide. He grins and chuckles into his beard. The Iron wolf.
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