Joined
·
2,848 Posts
Imported from the other forums, brought here from a musty hibernation of a few months... the saga of my Chaos Lord, Arcannyx, and his Thousand Son strike force... and then the transition to his new force, now posted in the army lists.
The great doors to the chamber opened. Black iron, fifteen feet tall, carved in ancient runes that held potent defenses against any one not marked by the Changer of Ways. They swung open soundlessly, allowing the newcomer to enter the chamber.
He was massive, nearly ten feet tall; a perfect exemplar of Space Marine genetics. He was dressed from neck down in armor made of some unknown metal drawn straight out of the warp, the color of raw iron that was still orange from the forge. He had forgone his helm, as it was inappropriate in such an audience. Had he worn it, it would have easily added another two feet to his height, as it was stylized as a jagged crown. Also missing were his weapons; a runeblade, said to have had a powerful Changer bound into it, and his staff, the focus for his terrible power.
As he walked down the chamber, a long cloak billowed behind him, not quite running across the polished black marble. The hallway was purposefully long, almost obscenely so, but it gave the audience chamber's owner plenty of time to inspect, and prepare defenses if somehow those iron doors were breached.
After all, Ahriman was not in the position he was in because he was foolhardy.
The great sorcerer-lord sat upon a massive throne, here within a special warded audience chamber within his Grand Cruiser. The vessel was soaring through the warp even as the other Marine was making his slow walk, en route to one of the hidden strongholds that the Thousand Sons had created. As the armored figure approached, Ahriman gazed upon him with eyes that saw the universe through raw Chaos; saw the strands of power that clung to the lord, and saw the glory of Tzeentch that flowed through not only them both, but most of the ship and it's crew.
"Arcannyx... welcome to my chamber."
Arcannyx, the armored lord, quickly fell to one knee as soon as he was addressed. he bowed his head, letting the shoulder-length silver hair spill foward from beneath a black circlet. "You summoned me, my liege. What do you command of me?"
Ahriman smiled. This one was one of his greatest sorcerers, one who assisted in the original Rubric ritual. Since then his power had only grown. He was a good choice for what was to come... and now to inform him. "Yes Arcannyx. I have asked you here to tell you something very important. To relay my wants, my desires... and my rewards."
Arcannyx did his best to hide his curiosity; Ahriman's rewards were often great, but he did not enjoy the overeager, either. He said nothing, and instead waited for the Favored of Tzeentch to continue speaking.
He did not have to wait long. "I have decided to grant you the command of one of my cruisers. As well as this, you shall have a regiment of marines. And a small holding of my... Chosen."
From the shadows stepped three space marines, to judge by their builds. Each one was dressed in black robes over dark metal armor. Large helmets, much like the style that Ahriman himself wore, golden in color, hide whatever faces they might have. Each one held in their hand a staff covered in arcane runes, and each glowed with a flaming red Eye of Chaos at it's crown. They radiated power just by standing near the two sorcerers; clearly powerful psychics in their own right.
"These are my Chosen. Call them what you will when you have assembled your forces, but remember that they are mine, first and foremost. The blood of Tzeentch runs through them, and they wield potent magic; they have within them the power to traverse the warp without need of any vessel. They are yours to command, as my emmisaries.
"Your mission is simple, Arcannyx. You are one of my most powerful sorcerers, and now you have my most potent servants as well. I task you with finding what was lost. The hidden knowledge; what the thrice-damned Imperium might call the Dark Ages. How you do so is not my concern - you know the rituals for demons if that is your want, or use only the marines I have given you. I will even grant you one of the great Engines... provided you can control the demon within.
"Do this, and you will have my favor, and through me Tzeentch's. And I will know as you do, for my Chosen will be with you to see all that happens. Now go, my Exalted Sorcerer."
The dismissal seemed for both Arcannyx, and the Chosen, as the trio suddenly stepped backwards... and seemed to melt into the shadows again. Arcannyx knew instantly that the three were gone, demonstrating that power of slipping into the warp. The newly-promoted sorcerer stood again, and gave Ahriman as deep a bow as his girth and armor would allow. "Thank you my liege. I shall not fail you." His steps back out of the chamber were faster, as now he knew that his long walk was not his final one. As soon as he stepped through the doorway, the great iron closed behind him. Ahriman smiled to himself, glancing into the shadows, where a ball of fire, courscating in all the colors of human perception, seemed to float in the ether.
"It begins, my Master."
The great doors to the chamber opened. Black iron, fifteen feet tall, carved in ancient runes that held potent defenses against any one not marked by the Changer of Ways. They swung open soundlessly, allowing the newcomer to enter the chamber.
He was massive, nearly ten feet tall; a perfect exemplar of Space Marine genetics. He was dressed from neck down in armor made of some unknown metal drawn straight out of the warp, the color of raw iron that was still orange from the forge. He had forgone his helm, as it was inappropriate in such an audience. Had he worn it, it would have easily added another two feet to his height, as it was stylized as a jagged crown. Also missing were his weapons; a runeblade, said to have had a powerful Changer bound into it, and his staff, the focus for his terrible power.
As he walked down the chamber, a long cloak billowed behind him, not quite running across the polished black marble. The hallway was purposefully long, almost obscenely so, but it gave the audience chamber's owner plenty of time to inspect, and prepare defenses if somehow those iron doors were breached.
After all, Ahriman was not in the position he was in because he was foolhardy.
The great sorcerer-lord sat upon a massive throne, here within a special warded audience chamber within his Grand Cruiser. The vessel was soaring through the warp even as the other Marine was making his slow walk, en route to one of the hidden strongholds that the Thousand Sons had created. As the armored figure approached, Ahriman gazed upon him with eyes that saw the universe through raw Chaos; saw the strands of power that clung to the lord, and saw the glory of Tzeentch that flowed through not only them both, but most of the ship and it's crew.
"Arcannyx... welcome to my chamber."
Arcannyx, the armored lord, quickly fell to one knee as soon as he was addressed. he bowed his head, letting the shoulder-length silver hair spill foward from beneath a black circlet. "You summoned me, my liege. What do you command of me?"
Ahriman smiled. This one was one of his greatest sorcerers, one who assisted in the original Rubric ritual. Since then his power had only grown. He was a good choice for what was to come... and now to inform him. "Yes Arcannyx. I have asked you here to tell you something very important. To relay my wants, my desires... and my rewards."
Arcannyx did his best to hide his curiosity; Ahriman's rewards were often great, but he did not enjoy the overeager, either. He said nothing, and instead waited for the Favored of Tzeentch to continue speaking.
He did not have to wait long. "I have decided to grant you the command of one of my cruisers. As well as this, you shall have a regiment of marines. And a small holding of my... Chosen."
From the shadows stepped three space marines, to judge by their builds. Each one was dressed in black robes over dark metal armor. Large helmets, much like the style that Ahriman himself wore, golden in color, hide whatever faces they might have. Each one held in their hand a staff covered in arcane runes, and each glowed with a flaming red Eye of Chaos at it's crown. They radiated power just by standing near the two sorcerers; clearly powerful psychics in their own right.
"These are my Chosen. Call them what you will when you have assembled your forces, but remember that they are mine, first and foremost. The blood of Tzeentch runs through them, and they wield potent magic; they have within them the power to traverse the warp without need of any vessel. They are yours to command, as my emmisaries.
"Your mission is simple, Arcannyx. You are one of my most powerful sorcerers, and now you have my most potent servants as well. I task you with finding what was lost. The hidden knowledge; what the thrice-damned Imperium might call the Dark Ages. How you do so is not my concern - you know the rituals for demons if that is your want, or use only the marines I have given you. I will even grant you one of the great Engines... provided you can control the demon within.
"Do this, and you will have my favor, and through me Tzeentch's. And I will know as you do, for my Chosen will be with you to see all that happens. Now go, my Exalted Sorcerer."
The dismissal seemed for both Arcannyx, and the Chosen, as the trio suddenly stepped backwards... and seemed to melt into the shadows again. Arcannyx knew instantly that the three were gone, demonstrating that power of slipping into the warp. The newly-promoted sorcerer stood again, and gave Ahriman as deep a bow as his girth and armor would allow. "Thank you my liege. I shall not fail you." His steps back out of the chamber were faster, as now he knew that his long walk was not his final one. As soon as he stepped through the doorway, the great iron closed behind him. Ahriman smiled to himself, glancing into the shadows, where a ball of fire, courscating in all the colors of human perception, seemed to float in the ether.
"It begins, my Master."