Grey Knight, Warhammer 40,000 meets the Elder scrolls Options

[Colonel Mustard]

This is an idea I had a while ago, and had been entertaining for a while. As you may have guessed by the subtitle, this is an Elder Scrolls/40K crossover. For those you don’t know the rich lore of 40K, here’s a rough image of it.

It is the 41st millennium, and war has raged for eternity. The mighty empire of humanity, the Imperium of Man, rules the galaxy, home to a million worlds and untold trillions of people. Guided by its divine Emperor, interred on the golden throne after being wounded by his most favour son, the Imperium is a force that seems unstoppable. Yet mankind’s great empire is beset on all side by aliens, traitors and, most fearful of all, the daemons of the warp. These creatures, existing in a realm not dissimilar to Oblivion, are the most deadly threat to all living things. Existing in the warp are the four Gods of Chaos, Khorne, blood of skulls, death and battle, Slaanesh, God of Debauchery, Nurgle, god of decay and disease and Tzeentch, the god of plots and cunning, the weaver of fates and destinies, playing the great game of existence with the skill of a grand master. Whether they are united or they are divided, the four gods of chaos plot, scheme and plan to destroy the material world and make it one with the warp, damning all living things to a nightmarish existence of eternal torment.

And to fight these foes are the mightiest of warriors. The Space Marines, the Adeptus Astartes, the greatest warriors ever to stride upon a battlefield. Made by the divine Emperor of Mankind, each Space Marine is genetically engineered to be stronger, faster and far longer lived by any ordinary man, and psycho-indoctrinated to know no fear. Wielding the most powerful weapons and armours humanity has available; the Space Marines form an impenetrable bulwark against the foes of man. And greatest among them are the Grey Knights, Humanity’s last line of defence against the denizens of the Warp. The military branch of the Emperor’s Holy Inquisition; the Grey Knights are clad in blessed adamantium and wield the fabled Nemesis force weapons. Each one of these holy warriors is able to fight and defeat an army single handed. And now, a company of these blessed warriors has been sent to combat the dread army of Askillarrat the Insane, a greater daemon of Tzeentch, and amongst them is the fabled Brother Captain Alicarius.

Grey Knight-Book One of the Liber Oblivionicus

Part 1-Daemons

Purple flames clawed the sky like the talons of some bizarre, reality defying monster. Buildings were consumed by its twisting blaze, it intense heat melting the rockcrete and steel that made them up, slumping them down into a thick syrupy liquid.

And in the flames, creatures charged forward. Twisting and dancing impossibly, Daemonettes, the alluring yet repellent servants of Slaanesh, made their way through the flames, giggling and singing sweetly. Next to them shambled the Plaguebearers. Corrupted hulks, with a single eye and a horn sprouting form their foreheads, they dripped with disease, buboes spilling pus and gashes in their stomach spilling thick, rubbery intestines. They carried huge, rusted blades, thick with rotten blood and the entrails of their foes, whilst flies buzzed about them, occasionally stopping on their host to feast on a small part of rotten flesh.

Next to them sprinted Bloodletters, murderous servants of Khorne. Their skin, coloured blood red, split and bled constantly, an unending tribute to their monstrous patron. They hefted great broadswords, roaring and screaming in their hatred.

And most bizarre of all were the daemons of Tzeentch.

To behold a creature of such madness and lack of logic was enough to drive most men insane. The cavorting and twisting monstrosities giggled with insane laughter as they advanced, flames crackling around them. Faces formed on their bodies, in any place they could, sometime even being held between their outstretched hands.

And against this horde of unholy death stood fifty of the Imperium’s finest warriors. Nemesis force weapons were activated, electricity crackling around the blessed halberds and claymores. Storm bolters, mounted on the wrists of suits of adamantium armour, were cocked and loaded. The Grey Knights were the only force that stood between the Daemons and the utter annihilation of the planet.

Brother-Captain Alicarius muttered the prayer of vengeance as he slammed the specially made magazine of bullets into his weapon. Around him, warriors murmured prayers to the God-Emperor as they prepared for battle, checking weaponry systems and getting into battle formation. Behind, he heard Brother Deacus attach a tank of prometheus into his incinerator, the highly volatile fuel having been blessed and mixed with holy oils to cause the most damage possible to their daemonic foes.

The warriors took up their battle positions, and allowed the auto-senses in their helms to pick their targets and display their range.

The Daemons thundered onwards, approaching faster than ever.

“Pick Targets!” shouteded Alicarius. “On my order…fire!”

Bolter shells ripped from the Grey Knight lines, the bullets detonating inside their targets, causing the daemons to be blasted apart.

Yet they continued.

The Daemons came within Incinerator range, and burning blue fuel was jettisoned onto the creatures, burning many of them to cinders. Their screams echoed across the battlefield.

Then the creatures were upon the Grey Knight lines.

Alicarius swung his halberd in an arc, slicing through a bloodletter, before spinning and planting it in the bloated, rotten belly of plaguebearer. He yanked his weapon upwards, sending an arc of rotten gore flying into the air, before it splattered onto his armour. It hissed as it contacted the blessed adamantium, the ichors reacting violently with the holy oils and unguents upon the armour.

Alicarius span and slashed with his brothers, slicing through the daemons, bellowing litanies and prayers and sending off bursts of bolter fire at point blank range into any Daemon foolish enough to get close enough.

Suddenly, he was slammed to the ground by something that looked like a mechanical rhinoceros made of reddened brass, ridden by a Bloodletter. A Bloodcrusher of Khorne-a dread knight of the Blood God. The rider’s massive obsidian sword made a swing for Alicarius’ head, but he jerked his neck back to avoid being decapitated. He raised his own weapon and slashed through his enemy and its mount. Gore and mechanical parts scattered around him, and Alicarius rolled to his feet, slamming his blade into a daemonette too slow to avoid him. Then he was wreathed in blue fire.

He stood his ground, his body battling against the flames’ physical assault and his mind fighting the sorcerous one attempting to consume his soul. He took a step forwards, then another, constantly pushing against the power of the flames, to be confronted with the most bizarre creature possible.

Its body was shifting mass of purple-blue flames, while screaming maws that belched fire twisted and writhed around its body. Alicarius’ halberd slice through it, and it disappeared in a cloud of glittering blue smoke.

He turned as his hyper-enhanced senses picked up the sound of someone moving behind him. He span, storm bolter raised, to see a monstrous creature born of man’s worst nightmares. Similar to some massive, bipedal vulture, the creature’s multicoloured feathers flickered and twitched madly. In one of its clawed hands it held a staff, crackling with sorcerous power.

It was a Lord of Change, a greater daemon of Tzeentch and most powerful of his servants.

Alicarius let of a burst of fire with his storm bolter, the weapon’s immense recoil dampened by the servos contained within his armour, but it was to no avail. Even with the innumerable blessing laid upon them, the explosive bullets could not penetrate the shield of magical power that guarded the daemon. Hefting his halberd, he charged.

His first blow was blocked by the daemon’s staff, but Alicarius could see that its daemonic creature within it was struggling to repulse the holy power of his weapon. He span, allowing his momentum to carry him away from the daemon, before his weapon sliced through the monster’s ankle.

At least, it would have done.

With a boom of air being suddenly misplaced, the daemon disappeared, and reappeared to his left instantaneously.

“Very good, captain!” it roared over din, its beak clacking with every word. “But you won’t kill me that easily.

It leapt forward, attempting to crush him with its taloned feet, but Alicarius had expected this and simply dodged out of the way. He turned, just in time to block the daemon’s descending staff. It withdrew, only to strike again, but Alicarius parried it before charging forward, allowing his weight and momentum to plough him into the monstrous bird-creature. It reacted too slowly, and roared with pain as the sigils and wards upon Alicarius’s shoulder guard touched its skin, burning and blackening it. In return, it sent a blast of warp fuelled lightning towards him, but the same psychic shields that had just hurt it so stopped the attack.

“You cannot beat me,” it shouted. “No-one can beat me!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure!” he shouted.

The daemon raised a multicoloured eyebrow.

“Behind you,” Alicarius murmured.

The daemon turned, cautiously keeping an eye on him to ensure against a surprise attack. Then it saw two grey knights carrying incinerators behind it. It didn’t have time to dodge before burning promethium, mixed with blessed oils and unguents, was pumped directly onto it.

It jerked and spasmed as the hyper-volatile fuel gushed over it, and fell to the floor, writhing in agony. The burning hot assault abated suddenly, and Alicarius nodded his thanks to his two battle-brothers.

“I said you shouldn’t be so sure,” he said, as he walked over to the daemon, his blade raised and readied to deliver the killing blow.

“Neither should you,” the deamon riposted, its beak splitting in a perverse mirror of a grin. A barrier of warp fuelled lightning formed around them, crackling and twisting madly. Alicarius tried to back away, but the lightning would not let him pass, at least, not let him pass without burning him to a crisp.

The light shone brightly over them, dazzling Alicarius even through his helmet’s filters, and the only noise louder than the crackling was the daemon’s laughter.

“You’re coming with me now!” he roared. “I’ll torture your soul for eternity!”

“Never!” Alicarius roared back.

As the warp and reality began to merge around him in the tiny, self contained space, Alicarius did the only thing he could. He turned, sprinted, and plunged his blade into the daemon’s feathered breast, killing both its physical form and the essence of it soul.

And around him, reality shattered in a flash of light, sucking him into the warp.

This post has been edited by The Bean: Feb 22 2009, 04:37 PM

[Colonel Mustard]

Okay, and I've got an extra large update for all you lovely folk. Enjoy!

Part 8-Legion

Castle Chorrol's main council chamber was bustling with activity, men and woman trying to make sure that the Emperor was safe and the the panic in the streets outside had died down. Uriel Septim had been helped into a chair, the elderly man breathless with shock.

Alicarius had come as soon as he could, having wiped as much of his face clean as he could and having a healer clean out his wound and remove what was left of the eyeball-it was useless to him now. He had an eyepatch over his left eye-while it did itch, it certainly added a rather dashing look to him.

If I was with my chapter I could have had it replaced with a bionic by now, he thought. But he wasn't, and probably never would be with it now.

Fortunately the arrow had only embedded itself in Alicarius's eyeball, and mere scratched the surface of his cortex. He was lucky-if he'd been looking at a slightly higher angle he would either be dead or suffering serious brain damage.

Serrio was at the council table, debating about whether or not there would be another attack with a redguard, presumably one of the Emperor's bodyguards.

“They'd put everything into that one,” he said. “They didn't believe it would fail. What would be the point in wasting agents on a futile attack.”

“Because they wanted to put us on edge,” the redguard countered. “If we're panicked, we make mistakes. If we make mistakes, the Emperor dies.”

“Which is precisely why we won't panic,” Alicarius cut in as he strode over. He snapped a quick salute to Serrio, who saluted back almost immediately. “My thanks for covering for me while I was gone.”

“Not a problem sir,” Serrio replied. “I've been looking over their plan of attack while you were away-none of us can work out why the arrow missed. The man wielding the bow was obviously a master marksman-if he'd wanted to hit the Emperor, he would have hit the Emperor.”

“It was to distract me,” Alicarius said. “They wanted to lure me away, try to weaken and hopefully kill me with the second arrow and finish me off with the Daedroth.”

“True, but why not just snipe the Emperor?” the bodyguard said.

“I've dealt with the Mythic Dawn before,” Serrio replied. “They're an odd bunch-they don't believe they can kill you honourably unless it's in close combat. If Alicarius was out of the picture then they stood a chance of killing the Emperor, even if they died in the process.”

The bodyguard nodded in grudging agreement.

“So what do we do now?” he asked.

“We need to get people off of the streets,” Alicarius said. “I suggest we call a curfew for the next few days while the emperor stays-we don't want anyone else to get bad ideas.”

The bodyguard glanced over his shoulder, and then said; “His majesty's coming.”

The emperor was old, walking with a stick. His face was wrinkled, his hair grey and he was spindly and thin. Yet despite his age, Alicarius could see a gleam in his eyes that signified a shrewd and cunning mind was behind them. His clothing was finely made, but not ostentatious, and there was an air of quiet dignity about him.

He greeted Alicarius with a nod, before speaking.

“I want to thank you again,” he said to astarte, who had snapped a salute. “I don't doubt that without your intervention I would be dead by now.”

“I was just doing my duty sir,” Alicarius replied modestly.

“Are you alright your majesty?” the bodyguard said. “Do you need a seat?”

“I daresay I'll be fine, Baurus,” the emperor replied. “I will stand to thank my saviour.”

Baurus relented, but didn't seem happy about the emperor's decision.

“And I take it you're Alicarius' second in command?” the Uriel Septim said, nodding a greeting to Serrio.

“That's right sir,” Serrio said, no doubt in some awe from talking to his ruler.

“Then I must say you've done an excellent job of keeping the situation under control while he was gone,” Uriel said.

At that moment, a man wearing the ornate robes of a councillor's personal manservant hurried over, looking flustered, and murmured something to the emperor. The old man sighed.

“I'm I cannot stay any longer,” he said, extending his hand. “It has been an honour, nonetheless.”

Alicarius gently gripped the old man's hand in his own massive gauntlet and shook it. Serrio did the same, but looked as if he was about to collapse out of excitement and pride. When the Emperor had turned away he turned to Alicarius, a big, stupid grin plastered on his face.

“That was the Emperor,” he said in glee. “And I shook his hand.”

“I know Serrio,” Alicarius said. “So did I.”

“The Emperor complimented me!”

“I know Serrio. Calm down.”

“Sorry,” Serrio mumbled. “Just a bit, y'know.”

“Yes, I know,” Alicarius said. “Come on, we need to get the watch shifts sorted out.”

#

“I really do hate that desk sergeant sometimes, you know,” Serrio said. “I can't believe he had the cheek to put us on guard duty.”

“Oh stop complaining Serrio,” Alicarius replied. “It won't make things go any faster.”

“I mean, desk sergeants are a bunch of evil bastards, I know,” Serrio conceded, too caught up in his moral outrage to really listen. “I mean, it's practically a job requirement. But I draw the line somewhere.”

“Serrio,” Alicarius said patiently, yet somewhat pointedly. “Just shut up.”

Serrio promptly stopped talking. If an eight foot man asked you to shut up, you shut up.

After a short silence, Serrio suddenly piped up with a question.

“You know you come from an Imperium, Alicarius?” he asked. “So you've got to have an emperor. What's he like.”

Obviously Serrio still hadn't quite gotten over his brief meeting with royalty.

“He's dead,” Alicarius replied bluntly. “He was the greatest human being ever to exist and his own son betrayed and murdered him.”

“Why?” Serrio asked, interested.

“Greed, avarice, who knows?” Alicarius said. “Whatever happened, it started the most brutal and bloody war ever to occur. Ten thousand years ago, it happened, and it's still tearing the Imperium apart today. Ninety thousand space marines turned against the Imperium, and countless millions of soldiers, at the time when humanity was finding its feet in the galaxy again.”

“Ninety thousand Space Marines,” Serrio murmured, awestruck at the concept of ninety thousand warriors of Alicarius' strength and skill.

“They had gods with them,” Alicarius murmured. “Evil blasphemous things, four of them against our one.”

“Who was your god?” Serrio asked.

“The Emperor,” Alicarius said, before laughing. “Ironic, though. Here was a man with godly powers, more powerful than any other being ever to exist, with knowledge of how to craft the basic structure of a human being into something more than a man, on a crusade to remove all of man's gods.”

“Why?” Serrio asked. “Why would he want to do that? The Nine have never done any harm.”

“He believed that gods were dangerous, that they encouraged small mindedness and stupidity. And now we worship him. After his son, Horus, killed him, we deified him, interred him on a machine that would keep him in a half-life forever and from then on humanity has struggled onwards.”

“Horus? If the Emperor was a god, how could Horus kill him?”

“Horus was a primarch-a human who had been improved and modified and made into a father, of sorts, for the space marines, along with his nineteen other brothers. But when he betrayed the Emperor, followed the gods of Chaos, he was powerful enough to defeat his father, but not without dying the process. And now the Imperium is dying.”

“Dying?”

“For every battle we win, we lose ten more. We reduce entire worlds and their populations just to deny them to the enemy. Humanity’s time is almost up. Space Marine are supposed to know no fear, but but I fear for the future of man.”

“It's tragic, isn't it,” someone said behind them, causing Serrio and Alicarius to whirl and draw their weapons. “Don't worry, I mean you no harm.”

Their unexpected guest was an Imperial, dressed in the finery of a rich man. An neatly trimmed moustache sat neatly above his lip, while a wide brimmed hat hid his eyes in shadow.

“What are you doing here?” Serrio asked suspiciously, not putting his sword away. “There's no access for those not not authorised by either of us. And I certainly don't remember allowing you in.”

The man gave a quiet, cultured laugh, before speaking.

“That would not stop me in any way whatsoever,” he said contemptuously.

Instantly suspicious, Alicarius let his mind-sight expand, and saw what this mysterious visitor really was.

“Daemon,” he hissed, activating his halberd, letting the artificial lightning crackle around the blade.

“Ah yes,” the daemon replied. “You are correct.”

“What do you want here fiend?” Alicarius asked. “Tell me now!”

The daemon raised its hand in a gesture of peace.

“Oh don't bother with that, captain,” it said. “If I'd bothered with that then one of us would be dead by now. Most likely you, I'm afraid to say.”

“What do you want?” Serrio asked. “Make it quick.”

The daemon gave a dramatic, exasperated sigh.

“I come as a messenger,” it said. “Degrading for me, I know.”

“What is your message?” Alicarius said.

“I come on behalf of my master,” the daemon said. “He has been watching the small war you have been fighting against Mehrunes Dagon and wishes to give you his support against an old rival of his.”

“We don't do deals with daedra,” Serrio said.

“I though you'd say something like that,” the daemon said. “So I'll make this simple. If you don't take his support, it is highly likely you will both die, have your souls ripped from your bodies and tortured by a vengeful daedric prince for all eternity.”

“I'm listening then,” Alicarius said.

“Let me start from the beginning then,” the daemon said. “I go by the name of Legion. I am a servant of a daedric prince, who wishes to not have his identity disclosed at this time. He also wants to see his pet project survive the invasion Mehrunes Dagon plans.”

“Mehrunes Dagon wishes to invade Nirn?” Alicarius asked. “How will he do that?”

“He will kill the Emperor,” Legion said. “Don't look so alarmed, captain, there's nothing you can do about it. While my master predicts that his death will be rather entertaining, nonetheless the multiple skeins of fate point towards one thing after that. The complete destruction of this world and the enslavement of its people. This would not be a desired outcome for my master.”

“So how does he wish to aid me?” Alicarius said.

“In ways you could not possibly imagine,” Legion replied. “From now on, you will never see me-I only come to inform you of my presence simply so you will not attempt to kill if, by some massive offchance, you see me again. I will work behind the scenes-a whisper in an ear, a slight movement of an object. A twig in a riverbed, so to speak, but a twig that will influence the river's flow nonetheless. If you do see me again, you will, by then, realised the true reason that you came here, and why. Until then, I will be invisible.”

With that, Legion stepped back into a shadow and disappeared. Serrio grabbed a flaming torch and pointed it into the patch of darkness, but Legion had disappeared without a trace.