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]

I'm BAAAACK!!

Just so ya know

Alright, I've written a grand total of seventeen updates for this while I was away, and I'll be posting them up for y'all over the next week or so. A lot of ground has been covered, there are fights, battle and excitement galore, and even a celebrity appearance! But, just to get the ball rolling, here's part nine.

Part 9-Leaving

The Emperor's state visit had lasted only a few days, the Mythic Dawn's attack setting everyone on edge. The business that Uriel Septim had had to conduct with the count had been conducted quickly, and by the end of the week, the Emperor was preparing to leave.

“Make sure the streets are clear of pedestrians when the Emperor,” Alicarius ordered Tannius, one of his lieutenants. “I don't want to take any risks.”

The soldier saluted and then hurried out of the castle to carry out his orders. Alicarius had gathered together most of his captains, as well as the commander of the Emperor's guards, Captain Renault, in a small council of war.

“Captain Renault,” Alicarius said. “Is there any way the Emperor can get into the Imperial City without it being too noticeable?”

“I know a few inconspicuous routes we can take to get into the city,” Renault replied.

“Good,” Alicarius said. “Have you managed to get any more information on the cult?”

“I've got my best men on it,” Renault said. “But after Serrio's extermination mission a few weeks ago they've been careful about trying to keep hidden-they knew the assassination attempt was was going to be a suicide mission, so could count on the assassins to not give any information away.”

“What about the next few weeks?” Serrio asked. “What's the plan then?”

“I recommend we keep the Emperor safe,” Renault replied. “We can move him to our base in Cloud Ruler Temple if the attacks continue. It's one of the most secure places in Cyrodiil-it'll take nothing short of an army to shift us.”

“I'm not sure they'll carry on for much longer,” Alicarius said. “They don't have enough manpower to keep up multiple ones. I'd say there was only going to be one more before they'll have to back down and go into hiding before they recover or we find them and wipe them out.”

“So what's the plan then?” Serrio asked.

“I say we get the Emperor back home to the Imperial City as as soon as we can,” Renault said. “We keep looking for any Mythic Dawn bases and destroy them when we can. If nothing else happens for the next few weeks then we'll have to carry on as normal-people have tried to kill the Emperor before and we've managed.”

“It makes sense,” Alicarius said. “Just don't drop your guard too much-an avaricious usurper will know when to back down, but a cult of a maniacs won't.”

The meeting was interrupted by a messenger knocking on the door.

“This had better be important,” Serrio sighed as he opened the door. The command group had been plagued by messages over the past few days, mostly sent by gung-ho sergeants who had arrested someone who had had the misfortune to look suspicious enough to be accused of being a member of the Mythic Dawn. Someone had questioned them, but so far, out of the fifty people arrested, there had been no reason for that person to be a member of the cult.

“It's a message from the Emperor, sir,” the messenger said.

“Alight then, fire away,” Serrio said.

“He asks that Alicarius accompanies him to the Imperial City,” the messenger said.

Alicarius shook his head.

“I'm afraid that you must tell him that while I am grateful for the honour he has offered me, I must refuse,” he said. “My duties as commander of the Legion at Chorrol demand that I must stay.”

“He said that he wouldn't take no for an answer,” the messenger said.

“If he says that then he means it,” Renault volunteered.

Alicarius considered his options for a moment, before deciding it would be simpler to just comply with the Emperor's orders.

“I will inform his majesty immediately,” the messenger said, before turning to leave.

“Back to planning then,” Alicarius said, sounding slightly put out.

#

When the Emperor's carriage left Chorrol, no crowds of cheering citizens saw it off. Instead, there was a tense silence as the royal caravan made its way through the town. The route had been cleared by the watch, but nonetheless the mounted soldiers guarding it were taking no risks, scrutinising every alleyway and window along the route with intense suspicion. Alicarius, eschewing a horse, was at the head of the group and had his helmet on, scanning the area with its infra red, watching for the coloured silhouette of anyone hiding behind a wall or window.

Then a small part of him suddenly asked: “Why are you doing this? He allows xenos and witches to live. He's a heretic.”

For a moment, he stopped, causing Captain Renault to ask if anything was wrong.

“I don't know,” he said. “There could be.”

“And if there is?”

“Then you people won't stand a chance,” he said cryptically.

“What is it captain?” Renault said. “What the hell could that be? Where is it?”

She drew her sword.

“Put it away captain,” Alicarius said. He glanced around, pretending to assess the situation. “Nothing,” he said to the rest of the group. “Just a false alarm. Must be getting old.”

The joke was fairly feeble, even for someone three hundred years old, but it allayed any tension as the group continued.

“Captain, what the hell were you talking about back then?” Renault asked.

“Me,” Alicarius replied.

“What?” Renault said. “Why would you be a danger called the rest of us?”

“I'll explain, captain-you've heard about the training a space marine has to go to-I understand that that interview with the Black Horse Courier was one of their most popular editions,” Alicarius said.

“The Blades keep themselves informed,” Renault replied, as the group left the town, the gates closing behind them. “I'm surprised you did that though-you don't seem the interview type.”

“Commander Bittneld insisted I did it,” Alicarius said. “Anyway that's beside the point.”

“So what were you trying to say?” Renault asked.

“You know how space marine training conditions the mind as well as the body?” Alicarius said. “Well, sometimes, the conditioning has a side effect.”

“What's the side effect?” Renault asked.

“Sometimes, an astarte's mind just...rebels against him,” Alicarius said. “It's not really spoken about amongst us, but its one of the most dangerous things that can happen to a space marine. We don't really have a name for it, but I call it the Rage.”

“The Rage?”

“Sometimes something just sparks it off and an astarte just goes mad. We do our best to stop it-our chaplains and apothecaries watch for any signs, but in all honesty no-one knows the symptoms and they can be triggered by just about anything. Sometimes an astarte realises how different from humanity he really is, sometimes an astarte breaks under the stress of extended combat when he knows there truly can't be a victory, and sometimes we're put in situations where we're torn between what our training demands and our own opinions and common sense do. After all, when push comes to shove we're only human.”

“And you think that it's happening to you?”

“Yes, Captain, I afraid that I think it is. I'll make no bones about it, captain, if it happens then I'll most likely slaughter everyone I possibly can-which would be a lot of people.”

“Can't your Imperium help you?”

“I can't contact them, and if I did then they would most likely try to subjugate this planet and exterminate anything not purebred human on the planet. That's what I think is triggering this-the hatred and xenophobia forced into me by the Imperium and the fact that if I want to live here without being some kind of outlaw means I must put this hatred aside.”

“We'd fight the Imperium though, if they wanted to kill us,” Renault said. “We'd give them one hell of a fight.”

“And you would be massacred. The Imperium has weapons far more powerful than any ones the Empire possesses. Look at this, for example.”

He released his storm bolter gauntlet from his armour, the joint hissing as the armour resealed the itself in its own atmosphere. He slid a clip of ammunition out of the back of the machine's gun's complex mechanism, and took out a bullet.

“What's the fastest thing you've ever seen, captain?” he asked.

“There was a wood elf archer I once met,” Renault said. “He was one of the best amongst his trade-his arrows were so fast that you could barely see them.”

“This would fly a roughly ten times that speed,” Alicarius said. “It could punch through the thickest armour you have and pulverise any organs or muscles that get in the way, and the wounds are nigh on impossible to close. And that's a regular bullet.”

“How could it do something like that? What kind of weapon is this?” Renault said, aghast. “Who would use such a thing?”

“Man always says that whenever he discovers a superweapon,” Alicarius said. “He assumes that no one will dare use such a thing, but eventually, thanks to desperation or some other factor, he does.”

“You sound just like some kind of philosophical treatise,” Renault said. “But you said that was just a regular bullet. What's so special about this one.”

“It explodes inside you,” Alicarius said. “If you survive then it's nothing short of a miracle. We have hundreds of weapons like that at our disposal-we'd roll over Nirn in a matter of weeks.”

“What would we do if the Imperium did find us?” Renault asked.

“I would be the only chance of the planet's survival,” Alicarius said. “My position as a space marine captain lends me some weight, politically speaking, but even so I'm unsure about whether or not I could really help.”

Renault sighed, and handed Alicarius' gauntlet back to him.

“It's a cruel universe we live in,” she said eventually.

“That it is,” Alicarius said. “All we can do is strive to make it better.”