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Alright, so I finally got around to putting down what story I had in mind for my cabal of sorcerous Chaos Marines, The Dreadlords, into writing. Keep in mind this is a pretty rough draft, just wanted to see what you all thought. Criticism is welcome, so long as it's constructive!

The Dreadlords

Overview

The Dreadlords are a cabal of Chaos Marines that have existed since the Horus Heresy. They are led by Levistus Wulfbeil, he who is known as The Dread Sorcerer. The Dreadlords are known to worship both Slaanesh and Tzeentch. The rank-and-file Chaos Marines who lack psychic power more often venerate Slaanesh and the lifestyle of excess that comes with such a devotion, while the leaders of the army are most often powerful sorcerers who worship Tzeentch. The exception of this is Levistus Wulfbeil, who has been seen bearing the marks of both Tzeentch and Slaanesh, yet seems to refrain from pledging himself wholly to any one god.
Their battle tactics include a balance of ranged firepower and melee combat, with an emphasis on personal skill and speed. Transport vehicles are not widespread in the cabal, as many of those marines who worship Slaanesh prefer to rely on the speed of their own feet. The cabal seemingly relies heavily on the sorcerous might of Levistus Wulfbeil and his acolytes, and as such is often seen in the company of daemons summoned from the warp.

History

In the days of the Horus Heresy, a substantial portion of the Dark Angels legion fell from grace, becoming corrupted by the corruption of the Four Gods of Chaos. Among these traitors was a talented Librarian known as Levistus. He quickly gained reputation among his fellow Fallen for being preternaturally skilled with both blade and sorcery, and was challenged numerous times in duels of both will and swordplay. He emerged victorious each time, to the increasing frustration of those who envied him.
When the Fallen were scattered to the darkest reaches of space by the Chaos Gods, Levistus awoke on the distant and heavily-populated planet of Chardrist, beside ten of those most talented Fallen who had hated and envied him the most. Levistus wasted no time in channeling all the subversive powers of Chaos he possessed to bind them to his will for as long as they might draw breath. As his brand manifested upon the flesh of their foreheads, each felt themselves forced to kneel before him. The pride of these mighty fallen knights smoldered with forcibly-suppressed rage, unable to lash out at he whom they had always despised.
With these formidable ten bound to his will, Levistus proclaimed that they would no longer remain known as the Fallen, but would instead cast aside their old identities. From that day forward, those ten would be known as The Dreadlords, their former identities never to be spoken of again.
As for Levistus, he took on the title of The Dread Sorcerer, and together with his personal bodyguard began the long process of subverting the planet to Chaos. It took decades of slow and careful work, but Levistus' unnatural charisma and powers aided him in garnering many followers to his secret cabals beneath the hive cities of Chardrist. Slowly but surely, his army grew beneath the nose of the local Arbites and Planetary Defense Fortresses.
Finally, on a day that would be known as the bloodiest in Chardrist's history, the cults of Levistus swarmed forth upon the major defensive positions of the planet. Levistus expended a huge effort to send out a message to every single cell of his cult on the planet, an effort that claimed the lives of many of his acolytes who were unfortunate enough to assist him.
Almost simultaneously, every hive city, fortress, and bastion on the planet was under siege by waves and waves of froth-mouthed cultists, each of them once a citizen of the Imperium. At first it seemed the cultists had no chance, as lightly armed as they were, but only after four days of solid fighting did Levistus' plan come to light.
As countless frenzied cultists died in waves before every major fortress on the planet, their souls became trapped in an orb that Levistus had prepared for the occasion. It resembled an ancient ruby the size of a man's fist, and as it became empowered with the captures life force of The Dread Sorcerer's dying followers, Levistus felt his power multiplying.
Finally, as the fourth day of the bloody war dawned, Levistus unleashed his will upon the world of Chardrist.
Deep in his sanctum beneath the largest hive city on the planet, Levistus focused all his power, all his formidable will, upon the throbbing red stone that he called the Malefice. The feat he attempted would require all his concentration. One mistake, and The Warp would claim his soul for all eternity.
As he focused, several pylons constructed in secret began to glow, each tipped with a smaller copy of the Malefice. The psycho-reactive rubies received the waves of power Levistus sent coursing across the planet and magnified them, multiplying his power even further.
When he felt his consciousness spreading across the entire world, Levistus closed his mind's fist. In one fell act, every man, woman, and child upon Chardrist screamed in horror as their very souls became infused with a tiny fragment of the essence of Chaos. Billions died in great pain as their bodies rejected this unnatural infusion of Warp energy, and billions more fell to Chaos and became little more than twisted reflections of their former selves.
And so it was that Levistus solidified his bastion of power, and the planet of Chardrist lost its name forever.

New material/personal fluff does in Dakka Fiction. 40k Background is for discussion of the published stuff. Moving.

Thanks, I'll be sure to post it in the right spot next time. Sorry about that.

Great story really enjoyed it.

Here's an update to my Chaos Cabal:

Notable Characters and Groups

Levistus Wulfbeil: Also known as The Dread Sorcerer, Levistus Wulfbeil is a sorcerer possessed of great ability and even greater ambition. While he serves both Slaanesh and Tzeentch in equal measure, he has pledged his soul to neither. The truth is that he views the Chaos Gods as he views all things: a means to an end. He has no vendetta against the Imperium, but merely views them with as short-sighted fools who follow a god that does not answer their prayers.
He has been sighted taking to the field in both terminator armor and power armor, both suits inscribed with violet runes of power that pulse and shift with unholy light. In his hand he invariably wields Adrammalech, an ancient blade within which resides a Keeper of Secrets, those most horrifying servants of Slaanesh. Also perpetually at his side is the great ruby known as The Malefice. Charged with the souls of millions, it is a font of dark power that magnifies the strength of his spells and foul incantations.
His current goals are unknown, although all his recent sightings have been upon Necron Tomb Worlds whose unliving inhabitants had either awoken or were about to. This, along with his obsession with all things ancient, makes it obvious that he wants something that the Necrons have. Whether or not he can get them to speak, however, is another matter entirely...

Dracon: Dracon was Levistus' most promising acolyte in the days before he was given the blessing of Levistus' own geneseed. When Levistus drew upon the souls of his petty apprentices to fuel his mind in the Corrupting of Chardrist, it was Dracon alone who still lived after the dark magics had taken their course. This had impressed Levistus so much that he had selected Dracon as the first to be given the honor of joining the ranks of The Dreadlords.
The implanting of the geneseed and the transformation from man to superwarrior was a horrifying one for Dracon, made even more so by the corrupting influence of Chaos on the geneseed, but in the end he emerged from his fluid-filled tank as a Chaos Sorcerer. He began to undertake tutelage from Levistus on the subtle dangers and nuances of sorcery, and took to it like a fish to water. Unlike Levistus, he had no qualms about pledging his soul to a single Chaos God, and so took Tzeentch as his patron. This only caused him to grow stronger, though he was still a far cry from being as dangerous as The Dread Sorcerer himself. It wasn't long before he was deemed worthy to command his own detachment of Dreadlords in the service of Levistus.
The forces led by Dracon are typically even more focused on daemonic summonings and possessions than Levistus' forces, with an emphasis on ranged support.

Dorian: Not all of Levistus' trusted Lieutenants are masters of sorcery, however. Dorian the Blade was once a Captain of a noble detachment of Blood Angels, known for his skill with the blade, as well as his overweening pride, which was unseemly in a humble servant of the Emperor. However, his effectiveness in battle could not be denied, and so the Chapter turned a blind eye to his arrogant and boastful nature.
It came to pass that Dorian led a sizable detachment of Blood Angels in an assault against a Maiden World that the Imperium desired for colonization. The battle against the Eldar that ensued was hard-fought and bitter, but Dorian found himself enjoying the challenge of it. The sword-women of the Eldar were nearly as skilled as he was, but even so scores of them fell to the blade of his spear.
Then they arrived.
The first hint of their presence was a great darkening of the sky. The bright mid-morning sun ceased to shine upon the beautiful and verdant forests and hills of the Maiden World Irr'la, and while the fighting between Eldar and Space Marine did not cease, it certainly slackened as both sides began to feel a dreadful terror creep into their souls.
For it was not just a darkening of the sky; it was a full-fledged warp storm that began to boil itself into being above the planet's surface. Dorian immediately lost contact with the battle barge orbiting Irr'la, and his Librarian grunted as he sensed the death-screams of the Marines and chapter serfs aboard the ship.
'Full retreat!' Dorian shouted over his comms system. 'Fall back and regroup!'
The marines began a fighting retreat from the battlefield as the Eldar did the same, but it was no use. Within moments there was a great crack of violet lightning that deafened them and tore the sky asunder, and the Dreadclaw assault pods began to fall.
The first slammed to earth meters away from Dorian, knocking him and the Librarian to their feet. As they rose from the earth, the doors slammed downwards like a lotus blooming, and the first of The Dreadlords emerged.
Wrapped in chains, he was, and his bare head was covered in a fine silken shroud. In his mutated claw he held a crackling power sword. He waited not at all before rushing the Captain with startling speed, his blade clashing against the Captain's armor before he could react.
Luckily, the forcefields of his iron halo protected him, and he set to with his spear, fighting like a man possessed. Within moments the foul traitor had fallen, skewered through both hearts and lungs, but by then they were surrounded, and the battle began anew.
The Librarian by his side smote down foe after foe with focused bursts of might, ripping limbs and heads from torsos as Dorian accounted for himself with increasingly desperate skill. It seemed as though the traitors boiling around them would never cease, but then, and with a suddenness that unnerved him, they turned and ran as one, heading into the dense forests that surrounded them.
'They're not gone, my Lord.' The Librarian muttered, scanning the treeline. Their battle brothers lay dead and dying all around them, less than a score remaining. 'They lurk in the trees, just out of sight. We must retreat while we have the chance.'
But Dorian's wounded pride had sparked in his chest at this sudden and terrible route, and he would have none of it. 'Let them come! I have never been bested in single combat, and I challenge whomever can hear this to come forth! Fight me! Fight me!' He bellowed at the blood-soaked field, where Eldar, Marine, and traitor all lay dead.
At first there was nothing, but then the air grew chill and frost began to rime the grasses beneath their feet. Two Eldar corpses lying close to each other suddenly liquified into a jelly-like red froth of blood and began to congeal into one mass, rising into the air like some strange tongue. Then the horrifying mass solidified, and Dorian looked upon the face of terror.
Standing before him was a figure as large as he was, clad in baroque and rune-inscribed armor of ancient design. Its head was covered by a great crested helmet, and in one hand was clutched a twisted sword whose surface twisted and writhed. The other held a massive ruby that shone with a bloody light.
The Librarian immediately thrust forth his hand, shouting out a prayer to the Emperor as he did so. Mighty golden bolts soared from his outstretched fingers, and quickly vanished into nothing when they neared the figure. It turned its helmeted head slowly, and the violet eyes burning within it flared once.
The Librarian gurgled for a moment, then simply melted. His figure collapsed, and his liquified remains gushed out of the opening in the top of his armour.
Then the figure spoke.
'I accept your challenge.' It said, and with a smooth gesture slid the orb into a pouch at its waist. Its blade it held readied in its hands in a style that hadn't been taught in millennia. Then it was upon him, the blade shrieking as it clashed with his energized spear, both of them moving with as much speed as they could muster. They dodged and struck and dodged again with scarcely a second between each blow, and the sound of blade on daemon-forged blade was almost one monotonous sound.
But it had to end, and end it did. As Dorian batted aside the darting tip of the Sorcerer's blade with his spear, he saw the Sorcerer's other hand rising, energies crackling about it. He began to throw himself to the side, but he was far too late. The hand darted out and seized him by the arm, and that was the end for Dorian.
He fell to his knees as all his muscles seized in his body, all of his nerves alighting in rapturous ecstasy and pain. His eyes rolled back in his skull and bloody foam began to issue forth from his mouth as he spasmed in glorious agony.
'You fight well, Blood Angel. And yet you lost. Do you know why that is?' The figure asked in cold tones.
Dorian could do nothing but gurgle in response.
'You lost because you are too honorable by far. Think, fool, of what you could accomplish if you threw that pathetic creed of yours to the winds. Think of the battles to be won, of the blood to be shed... Think of the glory.' It said.
And as the wonderful agony tortured his body and mind alike, it suddenly made perfect sense to Dorian. Perfect, perfect sense.
'All you must do it pledge yourself to me, and it will all be yours. Pledge yourself to Levistus Wulfbeil. Pledge yourself to The Dreadlords.'
And Dorian spoke with great effort, blood flowing from his lips as he did so.
'I am yours, Sorcerer.'
And so it was that Dorian, noble Captain of the Blood Angels died, and Dorian the Blade, favored of Slaanesh, was born.