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!"
1 comment:
Plaguefinger...he's the marine, the marine with the rotting touch!
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