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 32-Catalyst

“Catalyst?” Alicarius asked, confused by this sudden turn of events. “What is this catalyst you speak of? I have never heard of such a thing before.”

“You, commander,” Azura said, her voice seeming to echo with laughter. “You are the catalyst that we have hoped for for so long.”

“I do not understand,” Alicarius said. “What are you talking about?”

“Tell me commander, are you aware of what a catalyst does?” Azura asked.

“It's something that speeds up chemical reactions, isn't it?” Alicarius said. “So how does that relate to me?”

“You are our catalyst,” Azura said. “You are the one that shall bring our plan to fruition.”

“Plan?” Alicarius asked. “What plan is this?”

There was an incorporeal chuckle from the other side.

“There is so little you know of us, Alicarius,” Azura said. “Despite your ten thousand years of hatred and constant war, your Imperium is still blind to Chaos' true nature.”

“I know the nature of Chaos,” Alicarius said. “It is an evil thing, a plant that take roots in the hearts of men and strangles everything good and pure out of them, leaving nothing but a shell to be filled with your evil and their own selfishness desires.”

“And is the Imperium so different?” Azura asked. “Do they not simply destroy men and leave nothing but obedient and willing shells in their place, led on by some insane zealot? If you think about, the Imperium and Chaos are really not so different. Were it not for the small mindedness of your so-called 'God Emperor,' then the Imperium could have become so much more.”

“You lie!” Alicarius exclaimed, turning to leave. “I have nothing more to say to you.”

“Very well then,” Azura said mockingly. “You may leave. Allow your sheer stupidity to overwhelm you. Allow it to doom all of Nirn. By all means, go ahead.”

Alicarius stopped.

“What do you mean, doom Nirn?” Alicarius asked.

“You know very well what I mean. If you leave now, you shall never get the tool you need to stop Mehrunes Dagon.”

“Then give me what I need and I shall be gone,” Alicarius growled, voice dripping with hostility. “I will not bother you again.”

“Yet there is much I must talk to you about, catalyst,” Azura said. “There is much for you to learn, but you must listen.”

For a moment, Alicarius stood there, contemplating his options. He could try another shrine, run another errand for another daedra, but there would be less chance that the shrine's patron would be willing to listen. And as long as he got whatever artefact he needed then he could bear a conversation with a daemon. It wasn't as if if he had to listen to what it said-most likely it would be lying in any case.

“Very well,” Alicarius said after a moment. “I shall listen. But do not test my patients again. You cannot sway me to your servitude.”

“I am glad to hear that you see sense,” Azura said. “But allow me to start from the beginning. What do you know of the gods of Chaos?”

“There are four of them,” Alicarius said. “Nurgle, Khorne, Tzeentch and Slaanesh. How is this relevant?”

“And what do you know of their Greater Daemons?” Azura continued, ignoring his question.

“They are made from a small part of their god's essence,” Alicarius said.

“And what do you think we daedric princes are?” Azura asked.

“Daemons,” Alicarius snarled. “Of course.”

“I see you finally realise my nature,” Azura said. “While these people here worship me as a goddess, I am, in reality, nothing more than a slave to Grandfather Nurgle.”

“Nurgle?” Alicarius asked, sudden confused. Whenever he had fought the daemons of Nurgle or the Grandfather's worshippers they had been disgusting things, bloated and pustulant corpses kept alive only by the sickening will of their patron. This rich valley, blooming and vibrant with life and joy, seemed a far leap from the disease ridden creatures that he had always associated with the repulsive god.

“Indeed,” Azura said. “This is the one place that I have my freedom, away from his service. Here I can truly celebrate life in all its forms, but another channel for his creativity.[/i]”

“But how?” Alicarius said. “I have fought with Nurgle's creatures before. They are creatures of rot and despair that have no place in the natural order of things.”

“Alicarius, there is so little you understand,” Azura said. “Despite your years of fighting the Chaos Gods you know next to nothing of them.”

“Association with the enemy can only lead to assimilation by the enemy,” Alicarius said, quoting an old catechism.

“And so the Imperium blindfolds itself to any information that it could use for its gains, simply because it does not suit what it wants to see,” Azura said, amusement playing gently over her voice. “It strangles the life out of itself in its efforts for victory.”

“I warned you not to test my patience,” Alicarius said warningly. “Say what you must say, daemon.”

“The gods of Chaos are fractional and ever changing things,” Azura said. “Nurgle, for instance, may represent decay and rot, but he is an example of the bounteous joy of life itself. This valley here is but a shrine to him and his joy.”

“What are you trying to say?” Alicarius asked.

“I am trying to say that, despite your assumptions, we are not creatures of pure evil,” Azura said. “We are different, yes, but not as much as you might think.”

“What you say is blasphemy,” Alicarius growled, fingers clenching into fists.

“Is the truth blasphemous, simply because it contradicts the one you choose to believe?” Azura asked. “But tell me what you think of these Aedra you hear of. Surely you do not think of them as the creators of the universe, despite what many people here believe, do you?”

“I have never given the issue much thought,” Alicarius admitted. “But that is illogical. To suggest that they created this world suggests that they created the entirety of creation.”

“And indeed they did not,” Azura said. “The Aedra are nothing more than charlatans. They came before use, drew this world from the material realm and made it their plaything. They call themselves gods and lords and dress themselves in their fancy titles, playing their game and no knowing that soon it will end for them.”

“What do you mean?” Alicarius asked.

“We intend to topple the Aedra,” Azura said. “We will send them falling from their thrones. And you shall be our catalyst, the object that shall spur our plan into motion and give us the victory we desire.”

“Aid daemons?” Alicarius said, derision on his voice. “What foolishness is this? I hate your kind, if you have not forgotten, whatever mask of deception you wear.”

“I do not deceive you,” Azura snapped angrily. “I speak only the truth, Alicarius, whether you like it or not. Your choice in this matter has been determined. You will go onto the three trials and if you complete them or not is up to you. Should you do so, you shall become our catalyst, and aid us in overthrowing the Aedra.[/i]”

“I shall not help you,” Alicarius repeated stubbornly.

“But you do not understand, Alicarius,” Azura said. “By refusing to do so you shall doom Nirn to the Aedra's Harvest. There will be no hope for anybody upon this world unless you overcome the prejudice in your mind and step up to save this world like any true hero would.”

For a moment, Alicarius was silent, before saying; “You know what I came here for. I shall consider your offer if you let me have it.”

“Very well, catalyst,” Azura said. “I see that despite all the help we have given you so far, you refuse to help us. But if you wish to defeat Mehrunes Dagon then take this.”

In the air in front of him, three of the lights that had been dancing around their conversation coalesced into a single orb of light. The swirling ball of brightness took shape and definition, before finally coming to rest in the air in front of him as a crystal, shaped and carved to look like an eight pointed star. Gently and carefully, Alicarius took it from it from the air and held it in his hands, testing its weight. Even through his armour, Alicarius could feel it throb with warp energy.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It is known as Azura's Star,” Azura said. “You know the purpose I have given it to you for.”

“My thanks,” Alicarius said quietly. He turned from the statue, stowing the strange crystal within his backpack and leaving the strange valley behind.

Once again he climbed into howling winds and a flying curtain of snow, reducing visibility to just a few metres. He hurriedly placed his helmet back on and changed the view to heat-detection vision, throwing it into shades of dark green, but the sheer freezing cold of the flying snow mean that visibility was no better. He changed it back to normal-he was more familiar with it than he was with heat-detection.

He walked for a few minutes more, navigating his way through the whirling snow, while the sky above him sometimes rumbled with ominous thunder. He would have to find shelter-he didn't want to get caught out here in the middle of a storm.

He stopped when he heard a deep and throaty growl behind him. Must be a mountain lion of some sort. Very slowly and carefully, Alicarius turned and reached behind him, unclipping his halberd. He bought it into a fighting position and stepped forwards.

And that was when a scaled fist smashed into the back of his helmet.

Taken by surprise, Alicarius stumbled forwards, only to have another scaled and taloned hand grab him and deliver a powerful punch to his gut. Despite his armour, he felt the impact and gasped with shocked pain.

Something grabbed one his arms, wrenching his halberd out of his hand, and slammed its free hand down onto his skull. Stunned, Alicarius dropped to his knees, before another immensely strong arm grabbed his free arm. Before he could struggle, another series of percussive blows smashed into his helmet, slamming him into unconsciousness.

Their work done, the three daedroths picked up the unconscious Alicarius and dragged him towards the waiting gate to Oblivion.