Through the darkness, dubbed 'space', a comet-like object flew, directly at the Bloodwrath. The object, revealing to be a drop pod flying at 12,000 kilometers per hour, crashed into the Bloodwrath's outer hull, the metal, flesh, and bone being torn apart by the falling star. The drop pod crashes through the ship, eventually coming to a stop in a large, dark room, blood painting the walls; dead... things decorating the ground. The pod opens up with a hiss, revealing at least ten Astartes Space Marines. Black Templars, to be exact. ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈ All but one of the Blank Templars had left the room, the remaining one laying on the bloody floor, his weight having crushed the yellow, weak bones of a skeleton, long since forgotten. He awoke with an alerted groan, quickly pushing himself off the ground, and onto his armoured feet. He threw a cautious look around the dark room, quickly spotting his Bolter and Chainsword. What had happened to get them there, and him on the other side of the room? He quickly rushed over to his gear, snatching it off the ground; his Bolter, loaded with explosive bolts, in his right hand, and his Chainsword clenched in his left. He slowly looked around the room, the red visor of his helmet illuminating him slightly. And then, he set off, slowly walking into one of the hallway, his heavy footsteps slowly disappearing into the distance. [spoiler]Open. Yes, I know, short post. I'm tired, I lack creativity, and I'm suffering from writer's block. So shut up. [/spoiler]

[i]Spending sleepless nights, Yeroc makes a home in some cells whose walls were crumbled in. He starts cooking some meat off of the disgusting looking monsters he killed.[/i] [spoiler]open, i guess[/spoiler]

[b][i]Our Finest Hour[/i][/b] Macha had returned to the General Quarters with Ling, the Inquisitor. The two of them had shared secrets with one another, and had formed a strong bond, one that Macha hoped would set an example for the rest of their two people. Using her godlike powers, gifted to her by her mother, Isha, and her father, Kaela Mensha Khaine, she constructed a secret webway gate within the General Quarters. The two of them stood in front of the gate. Macha had a mission to uphold. One she had recieved from two different people. The first one, strangely, was Bracheous, a space marine. Usually, she would recieve naught but hatred from these marines. But again, Macha was known within the Imperium for her reputation. Often times, she had proved a trusted ally to Imperial Guard generals and Space Marine force commanders. Being a dweller of the Webway, the crimson scar soldier made a request to her. He wanted the Farseer to return to him the lost primarch of the White Scars, Jaghatai Khan. But Bracheous was not the only one to make this seemingly desperate request. The Primarch of the Ultramarines, Roboute Guilliman himself, had asked her to consider this endeavour. The Primarch had, often times, showed kindness to the Eldar people ever since his revival. She considered the hefty request, and ultimately accepted. Now, standing before the webway gate, Macha turned to her newfound interest, a human Inquisitor, at that. Their relationship would be kept secret, leaked only little by little to trusted sources and friends. Perhaps this could mean great things for their people. Even... the end of a tireless conflict. After discussing with him, the Phoenix Lord of the Warp Spiders stepped forth through the gate, on the hunt for the lost primarch. The Neverending tunnels of the webway would make it difficult to traverse for anyone but the Eldar, and the Mighty farseer knew exactly where to seek. Near the dreaded sections of the Dark Eldar, their sworn enemy. [spoiler]for JT, you respond to her search. For Emperor, respond to them having the conversation beforehand.[/spoiler]

[b]A single flash of light blinks within the confines of the BloodWrath's hull, and a single four-armed entity falls out He held his abdomen and passed out, whitish energy pouring from a wound, like the sun was pouring from the gape in his gut He woke up, and groggily bandaged his body, and picked up his gun, the flames of it licking the barrel as he walked deeper into the ship His Dual Shock Swords buzzed with arc, like bees awaiting a target, his pistols holstered at his side His gauntlets were glowing with navy blue energy, occasionally crackling with it, and he looked around with his four eyes, looking for anyone alive[/b] ((Open))

She's never been afraid of the dark, not even as a child, not that there is much she can remember from that long ago. However she does remember sitting alone in the at night and enjoying the fact no one else was there, the strange sounds intrigued her, they didn't frighten her. As she grew up it was the place she found safety, and the place that calmed her when all the world seemed to go to hell. Dreaming of the night the wolf found her, he called her name, he told her where to go, he knew where her heart was hidden and if she did as he requested she would find it, and never be alone again. So she did. In the back of an old mans loft, in a dust covered box she could feel it calling, softly, releaved that she had finally come home. Would she take it in her hands and crush it, so they would never be parted again.? Again? But so entranced was she, the question left her almost as soon as it had arrived. She took the trinket stared at it in rapture, the trinket was round maybe 3 or 4 inches in diameter, carvings hollowed out the metal in delicate organic forms ,and though it was black it was like seeing all the colours in oil. Somewhere from its centre thrummed a gentle heart beat, it teased every one of her senses, she could see into the darkest places, scents surrounded and intoxicated her so that she could taste them, and oh' to be touched by this thing sent a tremor through her very being, it crawled up then down her spine before settling itself in the very core of her. She shuddered, goosebumps prickled her skin and her breath caught in her chest. [i] " What are you,"[/i] her whisper breathless, she hardly heard it herself. [b]Break me and find out.[/b] She looked at this bauble nestled in her pale hand, and before she could stop herself closed her fingers around it squeezing gently, increasing the pressure til it cracked, and a cool black liquid began to run along her skin up her sleeve beneath her clothes it it crept across every inch of her skin before disappearing. Confused she opened her hand, [i]"where did you go."[/i] Simple but breathtaking sensation coursed through her. [b]" I am here, And if your love is true I will always be here."[/b]the thought was not her own but she heard it clearly all the same, what ever it was seem pleased and somewhat amused. Gradually they found their calling, and a few hundred years later she had become the very best at what she does. Unfortunately a prolonged life brings with it cynicism and a certain coldness. It's a normal night for Dirae, she has been tracking her deader since he left the whore house he is conspicuously obvious about being there, almost making an event of it. And Rae knows why, she follows him as he heads home, but detours around Queensway Dene, an infamous begging spot for youngsters and pick up spot for rabbits. Rabbits are boys to young to be working on the rent market . She watches him as he stalks the area for a likely target. He finds one, first offering a cigarette he stands leaning against the wall the boy is sat at the foot of. They engage in idle banter, this guy is skilled at the quick groom. He puts the boy at ease straight away by the offer of a cigarette, proving he isn't like all the other adults. This went on for half an hour culminating in him giving the boy a drink from a hip flask. Maybe the boys sixth sense kicked in, maybe the guy made a mistake when he smiled as the boy took a drink, either way no sooner had the flask left the boys lips, his eyes went wide and he quickly packed up his stuff, ignoring the mans feigned concern the boy headed off into the night. The man waited and began to follow and in turn Dirae followed him. Turning down a back alley , the man paused the boy seemed to have vanished. Dirae didn't wait, melting into the darkness,she materialised behind the man tapped him on the shoulder and as he turned blew a paralytic dust In His face before the shadows swallowed her up again. The man would die inside of 5 min. It had been a long night when she returned to her apartment, she showered allowing the hot water to loosen the knots out of her muscles , then she had a scotch and went to bed. At some point in the night, a gentle thrumming disturbed her dreamless sleep, when she woke she had no idea where she was. It was dark, that didn't bother her, but it reeked of taint, and that bothered her. Reaching out she laid her hand upon a wall. [i]" Do you feel that."[/i] [b]" Yes...it's alive. "[/b] Cocking her head slightly, she put her other hand against the wall but the sound was still faint, she pressed her body to the wall laying her head against it. [i]" Do you hear that...is that...crying...no grief ."[/i] The hollow ache suddenly nearly overwhelmed her and she pulled away. That's when she looked down. [i]" Er... Why am I just in my PJ's?!"[/i] Dirae stood in the darkness of this strange room in little more than shorts and her vest. There was a chuckle from in her mind , that wasn't hers. [i]" Glad you think it's funny...At least I know what my first mission will be."[/i] [b]" Not die of ritual embarrassment?" [/b] [i]"Your not helping."[/i] .[spoiler] open [/spoiler]

Walks around, cums on all door knobs, walks out.

[b]Pragmatic Soul[/b] Inquisitor Tobias flicked the life fluid of another Chaos beast from his blade. This one was different than those normally encountered. It had the immediate appearance of a great feline beast but that was it. Its sides were a thick hide but almost transparent to the black alien sinew beneath. Its back was covered in spikes that ended abruptly in a longer thicker mane. Its mouth opened into thirds with the bottom 2 portions hung slack to reveal rows upon rows of sharpened and serated. teeth. It was a fearsome warp beast, more importantly it fit no structure of the warp entities he had ever known. Surely the combined power of the 4 false gods ment there was not something [i]else[/i] that held sway in the warp. Perhaps the beast was just that, a beast born of the warp like any other wild animal. But it was the intent that threw away that notion. It stalked him, passed up on plenty of prey. It wanted [i]HIM[/i]. Such was the mind of the Inquisitor as his light finally dimmed. Alone in the pure enveloping black of the darkness. Something complete and total that wracked on the barriers of his concise as the primal part of the human instinct froze him in terror. [i]This is the face of reality,[/i] he thought. [I]"Total and complete. The very problem of humanity. It asails us from all sides and at all times. And therein lies the truth of all things. The light will be consumed. [/i] Even as he stood in the dark he could feel them watching, churning beyond his senses. The beasts of the Bloodwrath were as many as they were cunning but even they would be wary of a single man that stood in such a position. No sane man would dare dive this far into the depths of the ship, especially alone, and survive it's horrors and wonders. Something must be wrong, had to be, but that could not curtail a daemons lust. [i]But darkness cannot consume because it is only an absence of light.[/i] His eyes shot open and the area around him erupted in a brilliant golden light. All of his faith stood with the Emperor. All of his knowledge stood with the Emperor. He was taught that he was insignificant in the size of the universe of man, but even the insignificant can do things of the extraordinary. The deamons recoiled in the violence of the Holy light as the bayed and howled in its presence. Such magic did not come from the warp, but of the man's faith and soul. Those that turned to fight evaporated into oblivion while those that ran were overcome buy it's speed. Corruption, that seemingly fused to the ship, melted away to the ships true inner workings. A statue of a false idol screamed as it flaked away in the power of the light that it's kind so deeply feared. As it broke away it revealed another set of armor that stood in its place. A set of armor that he would more than happily take as his own. It was ancient power armor made for a man and not astartes. Perhaps left behind as a shrine to warriors of another time. The armor was a brilliant white with gold trim and flowed with his movements like a second skin. It resembled armor from the old knights of Terra, especially the helm with its winged adornments. With a practiced draw he pulled free the weapons upon its back. [b]Swords that could be twins were it not the difference of color. One was black with a vibrant red power field and the other a more simple polished metal that field hummed with a cool blue fire thay hinted of a heat far stronger than it appeared.Nemesis chainblades, a very rare contraption of death and destruction. They appeared to be ancient old weapons, worn from millennium of use and warfare and struck a horrible contrast to the beautiful armor.[/b] [spoiler]to be continued after I get some cleaning up done[/spoiler]

[b]Somewhere in the Warp.[/b] Tzeentch, Cegorach, The Deciever and The Emperor were playing a very rousing game of Paradox-Poker-Billiards-Chess-Roulette. "Stop taking too long Emps! This game has taken too long!" Shouted The Deciever. "Uuuuuhhh....." Said the Emperor, clearly not decided on his turn. "I'm going to Mindfück you Empy, Get playing already!" Said Tzeentch, annoyed by the Emperors slowness. "This is why Creed was banned from playing!" Said Cegorach. "No you idiot Creed was banned for sneaking in Warhound Class Titans!" The four fought over random shit, like why Creed was banned or how the Emperor was a massive tool or how Tzeentchs plans never end. [spoiler]Tis a Joke post, I don't know why I did it.[/spoiler]

[b][i]Double Event.[/i][/b] The imperial command blares with alerts, as a Daemonic incursion had surged within the General Quarters. Not one... but two. On one side, the various warp gates that opened released the bloodthirsty warriors of the World Eaters traitor legion, clad in their bright red power armour. They were accompanied by various spawns of Khorne. On the other side, portals opened to reveal warriors that the Imperium had never seen before... they were clad in worn white power armour with green accents, but these green accents were not warpaint... it was foliage? Moss, vines, thorns, these warriors were covered in plant life. Strange, for plant life to emerge from the warp... their bodies were humanoid enough, save for a few difference. Their fingers were oddly sharp, and their helmets were also unique in shape, being pointed to form some sort of muzzle. Each soldier had a pair of armoured wings on their back, the wings were dragon-like, armoured to be protected. On their shoulders was a symbol unseen before, [url=http://i.imgur.com/Yjgy1Zf.png]the symbol of a new god.[/url] The battle burst out between the two legions, they were not attacking the Imperium. Strange... The World Eaters fought with their signature style. Zeal, uncontrolled rage and ferocity, a perfect reflection of Khorne. Their thirst for blood was visible in their every movement, every warcry. Meanwhile, these Jade Dragons, soldiers of the green, fought with a style rarely seen from the warp. With tactical control, masterful strategy and calm demeanor. They showed controlled ferocity and accuracy in their movements, something was not right with these new warriors. They felt... odd. Different from the usual warp beings. Well, in any case, the Imperium had the opportunity to strike at these new arrivals. But as they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend... [spoiler]open.[/spoiler]

Redacted

[b]What the Fuсk[/b] [i]how does this work?[/i]

[spoiler]I'm debating on who to use...[/spoiler]

*walks in* *hates on thread* *leaves*

[b]Camp, Unknown[/b] [i]The Crimson Scar's Khan, Bracheous, had led him here. But here he sat, amongst heavily armed space marines giving him odd stares, just sitting in a very awkward sort of staring contest. The Void Wolves he hadn't met yet, or the Baltic Manticores, but that wasn't much his problem; Alon, sitting cross legged, eating some ice cream he had preserved in his pack, in a small enclosed tent with 3 other marines. One was sharpening his chainsword, the others checking their weapons, giving the occasional glance at the mage, bearing only a cloak and light plate armour. He felt like dwarf in comparison to the hulking soldiers with their massive weapons. They hadn't made any move to talk to him, and Alon kept looking from one to the other, trying to warrant some conversation. An hour passed, and Alon meditated. Six hours, and meditation turned to sleep. Fourteen hours later, Alon stirred from his state to find new marines in their spot; some sleeping, one cleaning his armour. Alon rose from the ground silently, exiting the tent, having raided all the food from that one.[/i] Y'all are really boring. Hm, let's go take a look over here. [i]Alon began walking around the camp, ignored by all the marines, but to any other it'd be quite an odd sight; behemoth soldiers, and a small, 6ft mage walking between them, like wind through great redwoods. Alon walked to find conversation, and that's what he'd do; find someone to talk to, or something to do. Either would be sufficient.[/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

[b]The Warps Bane.[/b] Kaldor Draigo, any Daemon would shudder at that name. For he is the one who is forever trapped in the warp fighting the Daemons of Chaos to a point where no Daemon besides Khornes batshit insane ones dared to fight him. He was in Nurgles garden, doing his annual garden burning with his psychic might. The trees caught aflame, sending a wafting smell of death across the winds of the Warp. Eventually burning the garden itself. Though he knew that Nurgle can just reform the garden, it did bring a sense of order in some twisted way in his mind. He wanted out of this damned hellhole but because of M'kars curse he is forever bound to it until the final reckoning of Chaos. [spoiler]that's right Mary sue is here and toned down so he isn't a complete God and wrecks everything.[/spoiler]

[spoiler]Kaldor Draigo can solo the bloodwrath easily. prove me wrong. yes this is a shitpost.[/spoiler]

[b][i]War In Hell.[/i][/b] Noiratrom's wish had been fulfilled. He was a god. Combining his own powers with the powers of the now freed Isha, Eldar God of Regeneration and life, he had ascended into godhood. His humanity had been, for the most part, left behind, shedded. His new body was now an amalgamation of animalistic features, portraying his variety in powers. He had the wings of an eagle and the wings of a crow, the eye of a wolf and eye of an owl, the body and head of a snake, reptile legs and four reptile-like arms, long, majestic horns and the tail of a Salamander. His cult had spread, and was still spreading. All over the universe, chaotic cults were devoting themselves to the newborn God, converting others to his word. His agents had also spread within the ranks of the other chaos deities worshippers and were converting them to his rule. Daemonettes, bloodthirsters, plague marines and even sorcerers of Tzeentch were being brought under his flock, causing him to grow even more in power. The formless wastes were his kingdom now. The untamed, desert realm had been conquered by him even before his ascension. And ever since his rise to power, calling this place wastes was simply wrong. Twisted life sprawled in that region of the warp. Pink lakes, rivers and streams were spread sparsely across the land, with an ever chaotic flora, to the proper effigy of the warp. At the center of it rested his palace, made of unnatural, unreal marble. It had been renovated to fit his new shape and height. All across this island, the houses of his cult, his following of marines, the Sons of Chaos, that had been re-dubbed the Jade Dragons. They were, as it stood, the most populated legion of chaos marines. Their armours were an old white and faded black, but their chaotic markings were unique. While Khorne had his skulls and Slaanesh had its screaming mouths, Noiratrom had vegetation. His soldier's armours were covered in moss, vines and roots, and bore dragon-like features. They were a symbol of life, of rejuvenation. Of strength. Like trees that never die, the soldiers were enhanced by his power, and their worship of him made him stronger in return. Vegetation sprawled throughout Noiratrom's land, as his lone island stood like a fortress among the chaos of the warp, floating within it. No other god had reach there. This was his land. And for a moment, Noiratrom, who stood at the balcony of his palace, overlooking the forests of his massive island, felt contempt. As if this was how it was meant to be for him. And, in some way, it was. He wished he could end his quest here. Stop his war on the gods. But deep down, with sorrow, he knew he couldn't. There was no reasoning with the gods of chaos. Albeit he was one himself now, he was different than them all. He was not born into godhood. He was born a son of the human Emperor. He was twisted by the powers of chaos. He lived a life of hatred, servitude and distaste. At these memories, he clutched his fist. No more, he thought, would he let anyone suffer from their choices like he had. He remembered why he was waging his war. For all life in the universe. He had made that promise to Isha. He would not let the good of the warp powers that be be undermined by their constant strife and hatred. He reminded himself of his noble mission, and how this was but a chapter in his story. His armour gleamed in the light, it had changed much since the heresy caused by his brother. It was lighter now, since having adapted to his body. Instead of bulky power armour, it was now more like light armour, covering his legs, body and arms, but leaving some minor exposure. It was still bulky, what with him being fifty feet in height and all, but it was more fit for a god. It wasn't much for protection anymore, but rather decoration and memory. The helm of his brother, Alpharius, too had changed to fit him. He didn't really wear it much, but if he would need it, he could. Besides, with his powers, he could change his entire attire and body at will. He watched the pearlescent sky of the warp, ever changing. His soul was serene, at peace. He took a deep breath, smiling. [spoiler]closed. This is basically just a filler post to let know where Noiratrom stands in his current storyline. Hope you enjoyed.[/spoiler]

[b]The mauled body of Geram Toic was present in the hallway the Inquisitor walked in. He was kneeling besides the barely scathed Nemesis Daemonhammer that he kept.[/b] "May the Emperor guide your soul..." He said in a low voice, then picking up the Daemonhammer. He stood up once more, his Power Armor perhaps a permanent addition to his look. He grieved silently for the Inquisitor that never came to be. [spoiler]Open, Daemons better watch the fück out. like I'm serious.[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]EVENT[/u][/i][/b] [b][u]The Wolf's Servants.[/u][/b] [i]"Attention Daemon invasion in Engineering subsection 8. Daemon invasion in Engineering subsection 8."[/i] chimed an electronic voice to any vox channel that would listen. [i]"Strength: Unknown. Affiliation: unknown. Threat Level: Priority." [/i]

[b][i]The Hunt.[/i][/b] Now that she had found herself a secure position within the General Quarters, Farseer Macha could continue her quest. With her weapons loaded and working, her blades enchanted and her runes singing, the descendant of Isha began her hunt through the bloodwrath for artifacts that would reveal the why of their presence. With her runes orbiting around her, she set off to the bowels of the ship to find whatever artifact she could. All she wanted were answers, and she wouldn't let anything or anyone get in the way of that. [spoiler]open to Narration.[/spoiler]

In an abandoned part of the ship, a curious purple orb appears. After a few seconds, massive strands of magenta lightning lash the walls surrounding it, causing massive damage, but no burning. Eventually, the orb fires lightning in a perfect circle, which then evaporates into fine purple mist, which coeleces into the form of a man, with no features on his black body other then two, magenta, glowing eyes. He is holding what appears to be an orb, which appears to have an eye inside of it. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

[b]Astrid wanders the Bloodwraith, hunting down a imperial guard that had messed with one of Slaasesh's shrines, it was slow going through due to how big the ship was, so she took small breaks to think from time to time, she was on one right now.[/b] "Why do I kill for Slaasesh? What made me decide to serve them?... Was I created? Or did I use to be mortal?...." [b]She sighs and fiddles with a small pocket watch she found while exploring, checking the time.[/b] "Ugh, I think this thing's broken. Oh well, I can always try to fix it....." [b]She puts it away and lays on the rock she was on.[/b] "Do I even have a purpose outside of service? Or am I just destined to be used and discarded?..... This is so annoying! I really wish I knew the answers to these questions....." [spoiler]Open to Shad only[/spoiler]

Few knew Of the project's existence, even fewer knew of what it entailed. Even Dutch didn't. Lance corporal Nathan "Dutch" Blackborn knew he was a product of the project, he knew he wasn't... Natural. He was part of a set, one of many. Yet he knew each one of them, the betas atleast. The alphas were a different breed, based more on aggression and brute force. But all that didn't matter, he was cut off, inside an unknown ship, without a plan or allies. He had only his equipment with him, not a situation he'd not been in before. The scenarios he'd been running hadn't been great. Without supplies he'd need to find food or water, else wise he'd die. He'd encountered only a few creatures, no one alive, they were easy to kill, his rifle made short work of them. Ammunition wasn't a problem, he had over a thousand rounds, with the ability to make more when needed. He roamed the hallway rifle raised and ready, searching for supplies. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

[i][b]Bracheous hadn't been the happiest man since arriving. The white/red armoured figure was still on a damn patrol around the Imperium camp's perimeter, which he hadn't rightly disliked in all actuality: I gave him a moment away from all the shit of the base, all the noise. The engine to his assault bike roared proudly as the vehicle moved through the halls. He knew the base was in an open stretch, but damn near anything could be in the halls. And for that reason, the Crimson Scar had his Bolter Pistol in his right hand as he steered the vehicle with his left. He drove aimlessly around the ship's inner workings for what seemed like hours, but hell, that couldn't even deter him. So after some point he got... Bored you could say, and he started slowly moving farther beyond the halls he was already in. With each hall he expanded, there was always something: A Heretic, a stray Tyranid, whatever. And so he fought and he fought well, slaying many a enemy. And eventually, he made way back to the regular halls he roamed, back on the perimeters edge. [/b][/i] ((Open, short post))