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]

And now the fun really begins...

Part 11-Assassins

The passageway was dark-there were no torches to light the way, only those carried by Glenroy and Baurus. Alicarius had activated his helmet's darksun filters, to allow him to see in the darkness of the catacomb-like corridors, but he knew that the others had no such aid. If he let his vigilance fall for a moment, he had no doubt that there would be trouble.

He knew how to analyse an enemy's battle plan, and he could guess that the assassins had known that the Emperor would try and escape using this route, so would most likely be lying in ambush. It would be a dangerous route, but unfortunately the only conceivable way to Cloud Ruler Temple, the stronghold Renault had spoken about, was through the tunnels.

Alicarius switched his helmet to infra-red view, reasoning that if he could see the assassins through the walls then they could gain an edge over them, but quickly abandoned the idea-the cold stone simply swamped the helmet's autosenses.

There was no conversation among the group-they were all straining to hear a noise that could indicate danger and had their weapons out. The argonian even had his fists ready, and Alicarius was under no illusions that his talons would not be capable of causing some some serious damage.

The cautious silence was suddenly interrupted by a scream of; “BLOOD FOR LORD DAGON!!” and an assassin leapt down from the darkness of an upper level, straight on top of Captain Renault. Alicarius didn't see her immediate fate as he felt the weight of another assassin land on top of him. There was a hammerblow to the top of his helmet as his attacker attempted to brain him with a mace, but Alicarius' helm held firm. He grabbed the assassin and grabbed the man, slamming him against a wall. There was a spray of blood as the assassin was crushed, as well as a cloud of red smoke appearing.

Alicarius took stock of the situation immediately-Baurus and Glenroy were fighting furiously with a trio of assassins, while Walker on the Water was wrestling with an assassin who had made a beeline for the Emperor, before cutting the fight short by simply clamping his massive jaws around the assassin's face. Captain Renault was nowhere to be seen.

Alicarius grabbed one of the assassins battling Glenroy and Baurus, mercilessly crushing the life out of the man, before throwing the corpse at another one of the assassins, knocking the man to the ground with a painful crack. Meanwhile, with skill born out of years of experience, training and teamwork, Baurus and Glenroy quickly despatched the final assassin.

“Where's Captain Renault?” Alicarius asked.

“Down there, sir,” Glenroy said, pointing at the floor.

Captain Renault was dead, no doubt killed in the ambush. He skull had been crushed, and blood leaked from a deep wound in her midriff. She looked surprising peaceful-despite the horrendous damage done to her skull her face was untouched and had an expression of perfect calm on it.

“She shall be remembered,” the Emperor said, forlornly. “At least she died in battle, and with honour. I want someone sent down here as soon as we get out to retrieve her body. I'll have her buried with the honours a warrior of her position deserves-it's the least she deserves.”

He suddenly sounded calmer, more confident and in control. Perhaps, Alicarius mused, seeing the death of one his most loyal bodyguards first hand had put his situation into perspective. He'd seen it before-soldiers close to panic who would suddenly fight like madmen when they realised they had no choice but to do so. He doubted that an old man such as Uriel Septim would do the same, but he knew that if his charge was not going to panic then it would make his job a lot easier.

He suddenly remembered the war cry one of the cultists had yelled. So, just as he had expected, Mehrunes Dagon was the local manifestation of Khorne. The signs were all there-the obsession with honour, the complete lack of fear with which the cultists attacked and the red robes they wore. They all pointed towards worship of the lord of skulls and blood.

“We need to get moving,” Baurus said, at a door. “You stay here, prisoner.”

Walker looked irritated, but had more sense than to start an argument with three fully armed and armoured warriors.

The door led onto more corridors, some of which had the openings to more of those upper levels-they knew that if there were assassins were lurking in the darkness then they would most likely fall victim to the trick that had seen Renault dead.

Surprisingly, they advanced a fair distance unmolested, the only trouble they ran into was the occasional rat, but they didn't drop their guard.

Then a dark shape dropped from one of the openings, causing the entire group to spin. Alicarius raised his storm bolter, ready to send whoever it was into an explosive oblivion. Normally he would be loath to waste ammunition without any replacement, but he wanted the Emperor safe. No matter what his training demanded.

The figure that emerged from the shadows was the last one any of them expected to see-Walker.

“Peace,” he said, raising his arms. He had acquired a sword and some armour from somewhere, and judging by a few scratches on his arms he had been in a fight. “I mean you no ill.”

“How did you get here?” Baurus asked, suspicious.

“There was an old wall,” Walker said. “It just crumbled down and led to some caves, and then I just found my way here.”

“A likely story,” growled Glenroy, drawing his katana. “I say we kill him-he might be working with the assassins.”

Walker drew his own weapon, a slightly rusty sword, and readied himself for a fight.

“Wait,” the Emperor said. “Do not kill him. He is trustworthy.”

Glenroy grudgingly sheathed his weapon, and Walker did the same.

“The gods themselves have bought this argonian here,” he said. He turned to Walker. “You know of the Nine, how they guide our fates and futures?”

The argonian shook his head.

“Me?” he said. “I'm a simple thief-I'm not on good terms with the gods of any pantheon.”

“No matter,” the Emperor said. “Our fates are decided by them on the day of our births. And it has been decided that I go to my grave today.”

“How do you know that?” Walker asked. “Aren't you afraid to die?”

“I made my peace with the world a long time ago,” Uriel replied. “The Septim's dragon blood has shown me my fate and I can change it no more easily than I can command the tide to turn back before me. I cannot tell what will become of you, my friend, but a tongue shriller than any music calls me to my grave.”

“Enough talk, your majesty, we need to go,” Baurus asked. “And I doubt that will be true-I bet your prophecies never took Alicarius into account.”

The group continued, before coming to another large chamber. There was a staircase down to a lower part, and several pillars, but apart form that it was the same to the other marble built tunnels the Emperor and his bodyguards had passed through. Alicarius scanned the shadows with his helmet's darksun filters, but apart from a few strange ripples in the air here and there, there was nothing.

“Stay here,” Baurus said. “I'll scout ahead.”

There was a curse, and the others hurried to catch up with him.

“What's wrong?” Glenroy asked.

“The gate's barred,” Baurus said. “It's a trap.”

Alicarius tried to wrench the portal free of its hinges, but it was no use-obviously it had been strengthened by magic of some sort.

“There must be some other way out,” Baurus said.

“Over here,” Walker called. “I found a room.”

There was one, but it was a dead end.

“It's no use,” Alicarius said. “The assassins will have...”

He was cut off by a furious yell of “SKULLS FOR DAGON'S THRONE!!”

“Guard the Emperor with your life!” Alicarius shouted to Walker, before thundering back through the doorway to confront the assassins.

There was almost a dozen of them, and even as Alicarius swept aside a pair of them with his halberd another jumped on his back and attempted to jam a dagger in the weak joint between his helmet's neck joint and his armour. Alicarius span on the spot and smashed the man's legs against a pillar with a sickening crunch. He dropped to the ground screaming in agony.

Alicarius swung his halberd in an arc towards another assassin, then cursed as the man dodged the cumbersome weapon. He realised that he would need a sword or gladius of some sort-a halberd was all very well and good on the open battlefield, but in enclosed spaces such as these its length became an encumbrance. And he knew that he simply couldn't pummel every enemy he met in a cave or building to death.

He pushed the distracting thoughts to one side and grabbed another of the assassins, a woman this time, smashing her into a pillar.

Glenroy and Baurus were fighting back to back against almost half a dozen attackers, their katanas a blur of motion as they desperately parried and countered the blows that rained against them. Then an assassin ducked under Glenroy's guard and delivered a vicious stab to the bodyguard's stomach. Baurus gave a roar of rage and span, decapitating the assassin in one swift moment, but he was too late. Glenroy crumpled to his knees, dead.

Alicarius thundered into the midst of the assassins, scattering them like ninepins and killing a few with his sheer weight and momentum, before Baurus finished them with his katana.

They both rushed to where the Emperor was, before seeing the horrific truth.

The Emperor was dead.

“What the hell happened?” Baurus quizzed Walker, who was sat against a wall, clutching a heavily bleeding stab wound.

“An assassin,” Walker coughed, teeth clenched with pain. “He came through a wall, there.”

The argonian jerked a finger to an alcove, where a wall slid down.

“He took us both by surprise,” he said. “He got the Emperor straight off, then fought me. I got the honoured user, but he stabbed me.”

He stopped his explanation to cough up a gobbet of blood.

“He gave me this too,” he said weakly, holding up an amulet, with a shining red jewel upon it. “He said to take it to Jauffre, and that he would find the heir.”

“He said there was an heir?” Baurus asked. Walker nodded weakly. “Here,” Baurus continued. “I've got a healing potion. Drink it. Did the Emperor say anything else?”

The argonian gulped the potion down rapidly.

“He said to close shut the jaws of oblivion,” Walker said. “That was all.”

The argonian's eyes closed, and he slumped back, but the gentle rise of his chest indicated that he was still alive, if barely.

“There was an heir?” Alicarius asked. “I thought he said his sons were dead?”

“They most likely are,” Baurus said. “There must have been a lost heir-perhaps only Jauffre and the Emperor knew about him.”

“Who's Jauffre, then?” Alicarius said. He needed the information, and fast.

“Jauffre is the grand master of The Blades,” Baurus said. “If there's a lost heir, then he'll know for certain. I thought he was retired-he lives as a monk in Weynon Priory, but if he knows then he's our best hope. Do you know where Weynon Priory is?”

Alicarius nodded-he'd travelled past it to and from Chorrol.

“Take the amulet,” Baurus said. “You should get it to Jauffre-you'll be able to deal with any danger. I'll guard the Emperor's body and look after the argonian.”

“I'll get going straight away,” Alicarius said. “Oh, and his name is Walker. Walker on the Water.”

Baurus nodded.

“Get going,” he said. “We haven't a moment to lose.”