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post #1 of 7 (permalink) Old 09-23-13, 07:33 AM Thread Starter
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Default The Consecrators



-

I

HE HELD THE creature, as light as a newborn in his armored gauntlet, by the throat and smiled behind his helm.

'You will not live to see the light of another dawn human', the Eldar spat in between mouthfuls of blood. 'More of my brethren will arrive. A-'

The tiniest amount of pressure was all that was required to crush the alien's throat. Letting go, he took pleasure in watching the wretched thing in all its finery slump to the floor like a pile of refuse. He spat besides the corpse and watched as the earth sizzled for a few moments.

'Vile xenos filth,' he growled, his voice distorted by his helm's vox-speakers, 'it boggles my mind to think they were once the undisputed masters of this galaxy. Such frail, pitiful things. What do they call themselves again?

'Dire Avengers,' Sergeant Astanios answered.

He scoffed. 'Such a melodramatic race.'

'Master, what do you bid us do now?'

Liege Lord Bynal unclasped the seals of his helm, letting the venting air pressure dissipate before removing it. 'We stay the course,' he said as he tilted his head to the sky, letting the heavy downpour wipe ten days of accumulated grime and blood from his face. 'Tell me. Have we any news of the xenos's disposition?'

'Aye lord. Our scouts discovered their new... hiding place.'

He could hear the smile in Astanios's voice even with his helm in place. It was true. They had routed the Eldar's forces days ago and they had gone into hiding in various locations.

The Consecrators were thorough and patient but above all they were a savior chapter. One that visited any Imperial war zone they came across unannounced, destroyed their foes and departed before any mention of thanks could even be given. They even went so far as to refusing the hails of Imperial forces, feeding into the paranoia and fear of friend and foe alike in regards to their allegiance, only to enter the planet's atmosphere, and unleash their cargo of drop pods upon those who would dare transgress against the Emperor.

They had a reason for their secrecy.

They were one of the Unforgiven and their eternal hunt for the Fallen called for such drastic measures.

They left nothing to chance. One mistake and their prey could escape no matter how tightly they wove their net.

Bynol turned around and faced his subordinate. They were both clad in terminator armor as black as the uncaring void save for their chapters insignia and the stripe that ran down their helms like a slit throat, the red of the unrepentant’s blood.
The other Unforgiven chapters believed their appearance to be a keepsake to the original legion that sired them all. The Consecrators enjoyed the speculation of their cousins and so never corrected them.

‘How fares your arm?’ Bynol asked.

Astanious shrugged. ‘Better.’

Both of the lumbering Astartes chuckled. The sergeant's arm was missing at the elbow, a lucky strike by one of the Eldar’s warriors.

Damn them. Their bite is sharp. Sharper than any Orks or Tyranids. We linger here only because of a rumour that one of the accursed Fallen has been sighted here. The slimmest of rumours. From the mouth of a dying pirate from a different system no less. I cannot help but wonder what a boon it would be for the Imperium were we and the rest of the Unforgiven to abandon this hunt and offer our assis-

‘Master?’

Bynol put his helm back on. ‘Commence the eradication immediately then brother.’

‘Your will be done.’

The Liege Lord nodded solemnly before activating his teleport beacon and making the sign of the aquila. ‘Banish the shackles of old night and return us to prosperity in his name.’

‘In his name,’ Astanious intoned before shielding his face with his storm shield as the teleport device went off and bathed the immediate vicinity in a blindness-inducing light.

Lowering his shield, the sergeant turned around and bade the ten kneeling warriors in their ancient Corvus battle-plate to rise.

As one, all ten warriors rose to their feet, and readied their bolters.

‘These exodite Eldar. We fight on their world. Keep in mind they outnumber us three to one.’ Astanious spread his arm around.

All ten warriors chuckled. A graveyard of lithe alien bodies in colorful armored shells lay scattered about them.

‘Move.’

----

Bynol opened his eyes. He was back aboard their strike-cruiser, the Unadorned Vindicator.

‘Welcome back Liege Lord.’

Bynol said nothing to the Techpriest managing the teleporter array as he made his way down the metallic steps, his armored form causing the stairway to groan under his weight.

‘Status’, he grunted to the cherub hovering around his head.

‘My lord. Seargent Astanious is on the move. Estimated time to next engagement. Twelve minutes,’ Shipmaster Pasker replied through the Cherub’s built in vox-speaker.

Bynol ground his teeth together. He wanted to be there. But only he could further direct the campaign and he needed to be in the void to do so.

---

Last edited by Malus Darkblade; 09-25-13 at 12:35 AM.
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post #2 of 7 (permalink) Old 09-25-13, 12:40 AM Thread Starter
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II

BYNOL WATCHED THE proceedings from a large screen mounted to the ships ceiling. He took pride in his warriors prowess on the field.

They were Astartes so it was without question they were going to utterly annihilate their foe.
But they were not just Astartes.

They were Consecrators.

To outsiders, namely the other Unforgiven, they were not considered as fast as say the Ravens or Scars.

Nor as ruthless as the Wolves or Minotaurs.

Or as patient as the Fists or Mentors.

But to compare them to the other lesser chapters would be a disservice to their true strength.

Their adaptability.

They were or could be suited for any world, any campaign, any enemy.

Any enemy
.

They left nothing for the fickle whims of fate to decide or the inexorably calculating minds of various alien races to take advantage of.

Some say it is because of this that they are one of the few chapters capable of withstanding the schemes and machinations of the Alpha Legion and prevailing.

The Consecrators would often send their scouts ahead of their main assault weeks if not months in advance, preparing the battleground for their arrival by disabling enemy defenses, sowing discord in the enemy's ranks or gathering intelligence.

In one of their campaigns against a planet that rioted against Imperial rule, they went so far as to having it arranged so that the planetary governors daughter came across picts of her lover, the colonel in charge of the planets defense grid, betraying her with another woman whereupon in a fit of rage, she had him assassinated, leaving the defense system ripe for the taking.

The secrets they uncovered about the Callidus Temple had its uses. For while their scouts were avid marksmen and spies, they could never mimic the human form or use the Polymorphine drug the temple was so fond of nor would they know the first thing about what mortals called love.

It was also a question of why the need to tie down the Emperor’s chosen or endanger their lives with such menial things when his avenging sons could test their mettle against worthy foes and causes?

The Consecrators found that some of their cousins could not see the logic in this.

Despite the fact that it was the very reason the Consecrators were not wanting for gene-seed or in need of replenishing their numbers.

---
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post #3 of 7 (permalink) Old 09-26-13, 04:59 PM
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I'm a little confused by how love is playing into the evaluation of the consecrator's use of the Callidus techniques. Maybe I just don't remember the fluff of Callidus assassin background , though I'm certain they would be as cruel as any other agent in the inquisition.
Also, what is exactly tying the Consecrators down? Menial things like emotion or the actual techniques gleaned from the Callidus temple? Or is the question one being proposed by other Astartes Chapters? I would provide quotes so you could tell more easily what I'm talking about, but I'm typing this on my phone . Did enjoy what you wrote though, that last part just made me wonder a little. I am also wondering if you meant Vindicare instead of Callidus, just curious ;).

“Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends on where you are standing, pointing your indicting finger.”
-Glen Cook, The Black Company


Tales of Heroism and Bravery, in the 41st Millennium and the Old World. Perhaps some Realm Gate Wars in the future .

Gods' Hall (Completed)
https://www.heresy-online.net/forums/...d.php?t=161618

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https://www.heresy-online.net/forums/...d.php?t=121879
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post #4 of 7 (permalink) Old 09-27-13, 12:39 AM Thread Starter
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Callidus assassins use polymorphine, allowing them to mimic any form including Tyranids.

Menial things like going through the effort of manipulating mortals for their own gains. I suppose I should have made it more clear.

Not a fan of making up quotes. Feels pretentious/amateurish.
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post #5 of 7 (permalink) Old 09-29-13, 07:30 PM
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that's not what I meant by quoting, I was just going to point out some of the sentences my questions were addressing. Sorry it's taken me so long to respond, the forum isn't loading on computer back home for some reason.
Unless that's what you meant .

“Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends on where you are standing, pointing your indicting finger.”
-Glen Cook, The Black Company


Tales of Heroism and Bravery, in the 41st Millennium and the Old World. Perhaps some Realm Gate Wars in the future .

Gods' Hall (Completed)
https://www.heresy-online.net/forums/...d.php?t=161618

The New Word (Completed)
https://www.heresy-online.net/forums/...d.php?t=121879

Last edited by Myen'Tal; 09-29-13 at 07:34 PM.
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post #6 of 7 (permalink) Old 09-30-13, 05:15 PM Thread Starter
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Np mate thanks for the feedback
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post #7 of 7 (permalink) Old 10-01-13, 12:57 AM Thread Starter
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III

BYNOL BROKE OFF from his reverie and called for the shipmaster’s attention.

‘Your orders sire?’

‘Shipmaster. You will hold the cordon here to ensure none of the xenos manage to flee and to prevent any of their kin from aiding them. You have command of the fleet in my absence.’

‘Lord? Where will you be?’

Bynol gestured at the bridge’s massive armorglass viewport, indicating the region of space besides a nearby moon.

A moment later, an armada of Eldar ships appeared out of nowhere as if they were always there to begin with. Such was their mastery of physics and warp-craft.

Bynol smiled. The Librarian’s ability to read the currents of the Sea of Souls were to be commended.

‘Eld..Eldar ships! Raise the voids!’ Shipmaster stammered. ‘Ra-’

‘No Shipmaster,’ Bynol replied, his voice without one iota of the fear Pasker felt. ‘Reserve the energy for the teleportation bays.’

Without waiting for Pasker to reply, Bynol headed back to the teleportation bays and activated his internal vox. ‘Inviolables. To me.’

---

SUCH WAS THEIR confidence in their naval superiority, the Eldar did not deign to have their shields raised.

And so, Bynol took full advantage of their hubris by teleporting aboard their main ship with a squad of the finest of the Consecrator’s first company, hulking brutes all donned in the Imperium’s finest armor- Terminator armor.

It was aptly named for only a handful of foes could withstand the sheer threat it posed.

Bynol also took the opportunity to test a new addition to their armories. Centurion armor. He had two of his men don the newly Mechanicus-approved wargear. He had heard his cousins boast of its incredible stopping power and now he would have an opportunity to see it with his own eyes.

Giving them the honor of being bearing the brunt of the assault, those clad in Centurion armor marched ahead, the others seconds far behind.

When they reached a door, meters thick by Bynol’s estimation, covered in intricate runes and carvings that he assumed told a story of some sort, one of his men detected something on his auspex scanner.

The Eldar had finally responded to their presence.

Bynol was told approximately a hundred Eldar warriors were amassing on the other side of the door.

A hundred against seven.

It was a good day to die as any Bynol thought as he ordered the Centurions to proceed to drill through the priceless entrance and his Terminators to prime their powerfists and lightning-claws.

Bynol thumbed the activation stud of his own lightning-claws, watching the arcane energy field dance across his blades as he recalled the Librarian’s warning of what would probably happen next if his visions of the future came true.

Last edited by Malus Darkblade; 10-01-13 at 01:01 AM.
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