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 the next part. Things concerning Ocato happen in it.

You'll see...

Part 20-Betrayal

Alicarius waited for the feet to approach further, still breathing gently, feigning sleep. He heard the faint 'schwink' of a dagger being drawn from a sheath and Alicarius followed the blade's glint in the dim light that shone through the keyhole.

There was a murmur of 'For Lord Dagon,' and then the dagger plunged down.

In one swift movement, Alicarius grabbed where he thought the wrist was, was rewarded by a cry of pain, and reached out to grab his attacker's waist, rolling out of his hammock. He landed on his opponent’s waist with a painful crunch, before getting up and leaving his assailant lying on the floor, screaming in pain. He grabbed his halberd from its rack and hurried out of the corridor immediately.

A man dressed in the red robes of the Mythic Dawn rushed towards him, wielding a dagger, but Alicarius sliced down with his halberd, splitting the man's torso in half. He looked for the guards outside the door, and found them slumped on the floor, blood dribbling from their cut throats. He rounded a corner, his immediate concern for the other dignitaries-it would not look good if they were all murdered in their beds on his watch.

Almost immediately, he ran into Lord Fulk. The Nord had a drawn sword, as did his guards, and all three were badly battered and bloodied.

“Alicarius!” Fulk exclaimed. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“I was attacked in my sleep,” Alicarius replied. “I dealt with him-he's still alive, but I think his legs were broken. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” Fulk replied. “Only they didn't bargain on Njil and Bjorn.”

“What about the others,” Alicarius asked.

“No idea,” Fulk said. Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by an animalistic roar of fury. “Though that could be Lady K'tarr.”

They ran to the source of the noise, to discover that it was indeed, the Elswyrian diplomat. She had her claws out and was swiping viciously at a pair of assassins, who had wisely elected to keep their distance.

“There they are!” Fulk yelled. “Get them!”

His cry proved to be enough to distract one of the assassins. It didn't last long, however-K'tarr was on the man in an instant, her claws tearing at the man's face viciously. The other assassin took an opportunistic swing at her, but she rolled away and grabbed his arm. A quick slice with her claws ended the man's life.

“Thanks for the distraction,” she said to Fulk.

“Not a problem,” Fulk replied. “Now we need to find the others.”

They all started as they heard a group round a corner, but it was a large group of guards.

“You stay with them,” Alicairus ordered the others. “The rest of you, come with me.”

A large detachment of guards followed the space marine, hurrying up the stairs to where the rest of the dignitaries had their quarters.

They came across Serene Sarethi and Karraz first. Both of them had their weapons out, a katana and massive warhammer respectively, and were battling a large group of assassins and, bizarrely enough, the palace's guards.

Seeing this, immediately Alicarius span round, his halberd at the ready and crackling with electricity, and blocked a sword that would have otherwise decapitated him. He swung his halberd back, and then in a sweeping blow, slashed through three guards that got too close. Another charged at him, swinging his sword, but Alicarius smashed his foot into the man's chest, sending him flying with blood gushing form his mouth. The final guard tried to back away, but Alicarius slashed at him with his halberd anyway, cutting the man in half.

He turned to see how the fight down the corridor was progressing. Serene and Karraz had dispatched some of their enemies, but the rest were pressing on them, anxious to finish the fight quickly. Alicarius was happy to oblige them.

He charged into the middle of the melee, his halberd smashing away some of the assassins and rogue guards. He grabbed another and hurled the man into his comrades, smashing them to the ground with a crack of bone.

The remaining two were quickly killed by Karraz and Serene, her Katana burying itself in a rogue guard's neck and his warhammer smashing an assassin's skull open like a ripe melon.

“You alright?” Alicarius asked them, as he wiped blood of him halberd's blade.

“I'm fine,” Serene said.

“Same here,” Karraz said.

“Good,” Alicarius said. “What happened here?”

They gave a brief explanation of what had happened-they had been attacked in their beds, and had attempted to alert the guards, who, along with a group of assassins, turned on them. Alicarius related what had happened to him, before realising something.

“I left the others with the guards!” he exclaimed. “If they're rogue too then...”

He didn't need to bother finishing his sentence for Serene and Karraz to realise the implications. They made to head down the stairs, but were stopped by the appearance of one of Fulk's guards, the one called Njil.

“It's too late,” he said. “They're all dead. The guards turned on us, and murdered them. I barely managed to fight my way out alive.”

“It was the same thing up here,” Serene said. “The guards have joined the Mythic Dawn.”

“Not all of them, I don't think,” Alicarius said. “The guards at my door had had their throats slit-not all of them have turned traitor.”

“We still shouldn't trust any of them,” Karraz said. “There's no knowing who will turn on us.”

“Who would be ordering them around though?” Njil asked.

“There's only one person who would have full authority over the guards,” Alicarius said, anger rising in his voice. “Ocato.”

“Are you sure that it was him?” Karraz asked. “That's a pretty serious accusation you're levelling.”

“Who else could have the authority to put the guards on shifts so the ones loyal only to Ocato would be present when the assassins attacked?” Alicarius asked. “Who picked the wine? Who chose our quarters for us?”

“Ocato did,” Serene said. “It's worth investigating.”

“Where would he be?” Njil asked.

“At the top of White Gold Tower,” Alicarius said. “Where else?”

The four hurried up the stairs, avoiding any guards they came across, before finally coming to Ocato's quarters.

“This is it,” Alicarius said. “Be on your guard-there's no knowing what Ocato will try.”

Without waiting for an answer, Alicarius kicked the door down and thundered in, to find the dark elf standing the room waiting for him. He was along, barring the presence of a young woman dressed in the robes of a battlemage.

“I see my trap didn't work,” Ocato said. “Well, I'm left with no choice but to kill you myself then. It was nice to meet you all.”

He gathered a blue bolt of power on the end of his staff, and sent it spearing forwards, before Alicarius marshalled his own powers and blocked the attack. He countered, a beam of solid white light spearing from his outstretched hand, but it was blocked by a shield Ocato had erected.

Inside his mind, the Rage was screaming for blood.

The battlemage charged towards Alicarius' companions, but he was too preoccupied with dealing with Ocato to notice. He sent another spear of light towards Ocato, but once again his shields dissipated it.

Alicarius raised his halberd and charged forwards, hoping to finish the fight in close combat. Ocato's own staff blocked the swing of his blade with surprising strength. Each slice and swing of Alicarius' was countered by Ocato, who responded with sharp jabs which Alicarius struggled to avoid.

“Mehrunes Dagon has made me strong,” Ocato said as they fought. “He has bestowed many gifts upon me.”

Alicarius blocked another swing at him, but didn't reply.

“You can join him too, Alicarius,” Ocato continued. “He could use a servant of your might-you could gain great favour, become even stronger, immortal!”

“I've been offered that opportunity many times before,” Alicarius grunted, as he made a vicious swing at Ocato. “I've always had to turn it down- seems to come with the downside of damning my own soul whenever I have been.”

“You fool,” Ocato said. He stepped back. “Then I must show you the true glory of Mehrunes Dagon!”

He stepped back suddenly, and spread his arms wide. A red corona of light began to form around him as he drew upon unholy energies. His eyes rolled back in his sockets, and he gave a yell of both pain and ecstasy as he began to change. Shadows spilled in from the windows and streamed into the sleeves of Ocato's robes, which roiled and bucked. Horns made of brass burst from his forehead, spiralling and winding like those of a ram. Scythe like claws rattled as they extended from Ocato's fingernails, while his arms began to ripple and swell with muscle. His skin began to crack, like dried earth, and blood flowed liberally from it, dying it crimson.

Then he dropped to the floor, grinning unnaturally widely and revealing needle-sharp teeth.

Njil, Karraz and Serene stood behind him having dealt with his bodyguard, shock in their eyes.

“What is that?” Serene asked, fear evident in her voice.

“That,” Alicarius said. “Is a daemonhost. And now, I'm afraid, it's going to try and kill us.”

And most likely succeed, he added silently.