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]

Part 13-Oblivion

Blindingly bright flame consumed Alicarius as he stepped through, a warp fuelled inferno of cold heat that enveloped him. He felt the sensation of shifting as he was transported from one plane of reality to another, and then he was through, and into the hellish realm of Mehrunes Dagon.

Alicarius had a moment of deja vu that he couldn't quite place, before remembering that this was similar to the place he had left almost a month ago, when he had first arrived on Nirn. So here he was, back again.

He surveyed the situation-he was on a rocky island in a great lake of lava. Massive stone blocks were toppled on the cracked, red soil, while a huge pair of gates sealed off one way forwards. In the distance, or perhaps just obscured by a red haze-in the warp it was impossible to tell these things for certain-were great towers, spiked and jagged. Alicarius extended his mind sight once again, and saw that a massive corona of warp energy enveloped the top of the tallest tower, most likely the source of power that was holding the portal open. He was under no illusions that he would have to fight his way through a small army of daedra to get there.

He made his way through the cracked and ravaged landscape for a short while before being attacked by some kind of strange goblin, long limbed, lanky and with large, pointed, ears, similar to the Gretchin xenos that usually accompanied Ork tribes, forming a rowdy, cunning and vicious servant class for the Orks.

However, any thoughts that Alicarius had entertained about it being some kind of Ork's genetic offshoot were shattered when it sent a ball of fire at him.

His armour's wards simply dissipated the creature’s attack, and Alicarius grabbed it's spindly neck, ignoring its hisses of anger and fear, and snapped it, before casting the corpse on the ground. He'd done a small amount of reading on daedra, and recognised it as a Scamp, one of the weakest daedric creatures around-hardly a challenge for a Grey Knight.

He continued the hellish land, occasionally accosted by a few scamps and clannfears but nothing worse. He didn't drop his guard, however. No doubt there would be worse things waiting in the tower.

He was correct. At the base of the massive tower, in front of a doorway almost twice his size, he encountered a daedra unlike any other he had seen before. It was tall enough to match his height, with a torso that rippled with muscle. Four arms held drawn swords, the point of each blade facing Alicarius.

A xivali, one of the most powerful daedra in existence.

No challenge was given, but Alicarius and the daedra both stepped forwards, the angel and the daemon ready duel in front of the gates of hell.

Without a word, they both charged, Alicarius holding his halberd ready to swing like a massive executioner's axe, the xivali's blades whirling into action. Alicarius' halberd flew through the air with the force of a meteorite, only to have its path blocked by four blades. Normally, the halberd's electrical field would have cut through the swords like butter, but whatever unholy enchantments had been woven into the weapons on their creation held firm, roiling and twisting against the holy power of Alicarius' own weapon.

The xivali sprang back with the agility of an acrobat, then countered, its blades a whirling storm of daemonically forged steel. Alicarius attempted to parry the weapons with his halberd, and though two of the daedra's blades fell upon it, the other two scythed towards the waistline of his armour, where the seals required for movement left him open and vulnerable.

Thanks to some miracle of fate, neither of them pierced the power armour encasing Alicarius, and he responded by jerking his halberd past the xivali's own weapons, and into the creature’s chest. Roaring the Litany of Banishment, he channelled a portion of his psychic might into the daemon, blasting the creature's own essence into nothing.

He stayed there for a few moments, panting with the exhaustion of using his psychic power in such a great amount. He knew that he would have to adopt a different tactic when fighting xivali-fighting four perfectly coordinated arms using his usual method of duelling would be impractical. He would simply have to remain out of reach and destroy it with his psychic powers.

He pushed open the door of the tower, to be greeted with the sight of a trio of dremora. The creatures drew their weapons and charged, but Alicarius simply decapitated the first with a slice from his halberd, bisected the second with the return swing and delivered a powerful punch the face of the third. The creature toppled back, roaring with hate and pain, but Alicarius stamped down on its head viciously, silencing its cries.

He shook his head in mock despair. After his duel with the xivali, he was hardly challenged by a trio of dremora.

He made his way up the tower, dealing with the guards, who all seemed to be scamps and dremora, before reaching the top.

It was at the top where things got interesting. It was guarded by a small army-half a dozen dremora, three spider daedra and a daedroth. But Alicarius also saw his objective-a spherical stone, pulsing with power and strength. But he had one hell of a fight on his hands before he got to it.

The creatures charged almost as one, the spider daedra stopping only momentarily to summon a spiderling servant. The dremora reached him first, and though Alicairus managed to spear the first of them on the end of his halberd, the other got past and piled on top of him, hammering at him with their weapons and causing him to stagger.

Instinctively, he grabbed out with one of his hands and succeeded in wrenching one of the daedra off him, but dropped it as he felt a blade slide into a weak point in his power armour.

With a hiss of pain, he stumbled, crushing the dremora he had dropped underfoot, and even as his armour pumped painkillers into his bloodstream, he grabbed another daedra and threw it at one of the spider daedra with enough force to shatter both creature's spines.

Four down, six to go.

The other dremora leapt off Alicarius, realising their strategy wasn't working, and retreated among the other daedra, surrounding Alicarius. He backed away slightly, keeping his back to a wall.

A blast of poison from on the spider daedra was sent towards him. Though the magical assault was deflected by his armour, the impact was enough to put him off balance, and one of the daedroth charged in, slamming him into the ground. He rolled with the impact, dropping his weapon in the process, and ended up at the feet of one of the other crocodilian daemons.

Looking immensely self satisfied, the creature picked up Alicarius, who hung limp, still dazed from his sudden beating. It carelessly wrenched of his helmet, and Alicarius saw his adversary eye to eye. Then he realised that the daedroth had unwittingly exposed itself to one of the most cunning and deadly weapons in a space marine's arsenal. Alicarius aimed as best as he could from his precarious position, and spat.

Normally, the gesture would be one of futile defiance, but this was different. Using a complex chemical combination of digestive enzymes and chemicals released by the bletcher's gland, an astarte's spit could turn acidic on contact with air, forming an extremely useful and dangerous weapon when a space marine found himself in a situation such as this one.

The daedroth instinctively reared back in pain and shock, and dropped Alicarius to claw at its eyes, who immediately grabbed his halberd from its position on the ground. He raised it in time to spear another of the charging daedroth through the chest, causing it to lurch and slump. Wasting no time, Alicarius wrenched his weapon free, span and slammed his weapon into one of the dremora.

One of the more cunning spider daedra had snuck up behind him, and leapt upon his back, its weight causing him to stumble. The creature stuck its fangs into his neck, wrapping its legs around him and waiting for the poison's paralysis effect to sink in.

It didn't.

Another quirk of astartes biology was that they were immune to almost any kind of poison or disease, and within seconds, Alicarius' powerful metabolic system had gotten to work, neutralising the poison before it could freeze his muscles in place. He grabbed the daedra, tore it off its back and ripped its head from its body.

The remaining daedra, a daedroth, a spider daedra and a dremora faced him cautiously. They were most likely bound to guard the stone with their lives, but they had seen what had happened to their comrades and were rightfully wary of the Grey Knight.

They spread out so that, wherever Alicarius turned he wouldn't be able to see one of them-an intelligent plan, he considered. But then he decided to surprise the creatures.

He picked his target-the remaining dremora, and charged forwards, grabbing the shell shocked daedra by its throat and smashing it against the wall in a spray of gore. He immediately turned, using his momentum to bounce himself off of the wall and into the spider daedra, crushing it beneath his weight. Only the daedroth was left.

The creature snarled viciously, tensing its muscles in a futile attempt to look intimidating. Alicarius faced it, halberd ready, then charged.

The daedroth's life ended on the point of his weapon.

Bloodied and bruised, but nonetheless victorious, Alicarius retrieved his helmet from the floor, and slid it onto his armour. Fortunately, damage limitation protocols had automatically started after the pressure the daedroth had exerted on the neck seals had become too great, so the only damage was some minor denting thanks to creature's claws.

He trudged up a ramp, which he noted with some distaste was made of muscle and gristle, to the stone's mount. It was suspended in midair above a ring of brass, and for a moment, Alicarius wondered how to remove it. Cautiously, he reached out to touch it, and apart from a small shock of warp energy, which recharged his depleted stores, nothing happened. He opted to simply grab it, and then see if that worked.

He did so. For a moment, nothing happened, before the floor below him began to glow with light. He smelt meat being cooked, presumably that of the floor, before flames burst upwards from it, consuming Alicarius.

Fire swathed him, and he roared in pain as it surrounded him in cold, cleansing heat.

Then he was back in front of Kvatch's gates.

The surprised eyes of Savlian Matilas and his men regarded him in his battered and bloodied state from the other side of the barricades, awe apparent on their features. Using his halberd as a support, Alicarius stood straight.

“The daedra can be defeated!” he shouted to them. “Now come-we have a city to avenge!”