Brother Tophir stood before the mighty portal, the great gate deep in the bowels of the mightiest fortress on the Plague Planet. He had been summoned, though he knew not why.
Before him stood a corroded, twisted door of ancient bronze, emblazoned with icons of the Legion's new dark master. Standing at attention, appearing to ignore Tophir was a pair of corrupted warriors in mighty Terminator armor. The huge scythes held at the ready marked them as Lord Mortarion's Deathshroud guardians.
Tophir stood ready, certain that his gene-father knew he had arrived. After nearly an hour, one of the Deathshroud suddenly turned and opened the door, before stepping aside that the young Plague Marine could pass. He stared into the darkness beyond the doors, a seeming pit of darkness that nothing could ever return from. He walked in...
He took seven paces, then with a groan from his battered power armor, Tophir dropped to his knee, kneeling before his Master, his Commander, his Father. The door had closed while he advanced, and the darkness was absolute. He heard the scuttling of plagued rodents, the chittering of dark insects, and the tittering of the minor daemons that had come to infest every nook and cranny they could find since that long journey to Terra. Tophir shuddered at the memory of that cursed voyage. Cursed, yes, but also blessed, he corrected to himself. If not for the pain of the Destroyer, how would the XIV have transcended their humble origins as the Death Guard, and become Nurgle's praetorians, the Plague Marines?
"Tophir. One of the youngest of my sons. Your Black Carapace was granted just days before we departed for Terra". The voice was cold as death, and seemed to come from all points around the abased warrior. It did not wait for a reply. "You are a tool in my hands, as I am one in the hands of Lord Nurgle. It is in my power, and to the Plague Father's amusement that we take the low, and raise them to shine.'
The Plague Marine remained silent, trying to absorb the meaning of this. "Tophir. Today we have been betrayed. Calus. One of my favored sons, he has departed taking a seventh part of my host. Our Master is amused by this action, yet I am unable to allow this to pass. You will be my instrument of vengeance."
Tophir dared venture a question at this point, "But, my lord, I am new to the ways of the Legion, and I am lowly in the sight of the Plague Father, surely there are others who are better skilled, and shine greater in Nurgle's light?" Mortarion laughed quietly, the darkness and acoustics of the chamber disguising the source. "This is one of the reasons you have been chosen. You are young. You have not had my ways of war completely beaten into you yet. Before hunting my wayward son, you will make contact with the Legions of my brothers, and learn of their ways. From the Night Lords, the ways of the lightning strike, and the power of fear. Alpharius' spawn will show the ways of confusion and evasion. The Iron Warriors will teach you of siege craft and destruction on a grand scale. Lastly, the Word Bearers will show how to move the masses, in preparation for your final task."
Tophir, eyes still on what would be the floor just ahead of where he kneeled, nodded. "I understand, my Lord. I will go to the sons of your brothers, and learn their ways, as better preparation to defeat the traitor Calus Typhon."
"No, you do not completely understand. The Word Bearers will have another lesson for you, that I have long fought against, but have decided to allow, for now. The path of Sorcery. In addition, you are to put your new training to practice against targets of opportunity. Tanks. Jump troops. Infiltration. Subjugation. Powers from beyond. These resources that the Death Guard were not known to use in any numbers of note. You will learn them, and you will master them. Or you will die. Father Nurgle is not exactly clear on this part."
"My lord, should we consider contacting the other Legions? Wouldn’t the sons of Magnus be better placed to teach the ways of Sorcery?" Mortarion's voice dropped even further, a small amount of sadness in his tone. "The Thousand Sons will not be in any position to teach anyone very soon. Even if Magnus were so inclined to aid me after Nikea... No. Only the Legions I have mentioned. You will especially remain wary of the Sons of Horus. Those remnants are not long for this world. Stand not with them, lest you are destroyed beside them."
Tophir nodded again, sure that his lord could see his gesture. "However... Lord Nurgle has whispered a name. He says there is power with this group, though their path is hidden in both directions. I do not know who leads this band, or what their aims are, but Grandfather says they may be the key to finally taking Terra, and killing the False Emperor. You will pass any information you discover on this 'Black Legion' as you find it. Now, arise, Captain-Sorcerer Tophir, now known as Plaguefinger. Take command of the reorganized Second Great Company, and depart with my blessings!"