Gallows

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

Looks good to me

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

I'm more than happy to take on the Warleader. First draft should be in coming today.

Father Duanei

Name: Father Tàerlach Donohoei Duanei

Age: 22

Height/Weight: 5’ 10” 181 pounds

Race: Muraad

Appearance:

Dour in his bearing and in his appearance Father Duanei stands at an unassuming height a few inches under six feet. Growing up in a family that was distinctly working class he bares a frame of whipcord muscles that were carefully cultivated by the Red Seminary after he was taken to become a member of the Churches warbranch.

Despite their pinkish appearance on his white skin, the scars on Tàelach’s arms are not from any sort of abuse. Working alongside heavy machinery in the Steam Ark construction yards as a child laborer to help his family make it resulted in more than a few hard lessons learned.

Staring into his mud brown eyes can be an often disconcerting experience for the first time. His eyes are strangely bland in their flat tan-brown appearance for a man capable of potent passions when he is stuck by something he believes in.

To suit the nature of his time in the Red Seminary and who he trained under Tàerlach wears the traditional uniform of the Inquisitor over double breasted clergy vestments. Eschewing the lighter armor plates of the wrist and boots Tàerlach wears heavier articulating plating with a joint at the wrist. The armor of his boots extends up over his shins to just below his knees.

Personality: While Tàerlach is often immediately marked out as a dour brooding sort he is actually capable of a wide range of emotions. While he is often slow to anger or humor the even temperament makes for an excellent warrior and strategist as it is a rare day when he is moved by emotion in a fight. For those who have the pleasure or displeasure of being around he to see him laugh or lash out in anger it's often startling in contrast to his usual soft warm voice.

In the best of times Father Duanei is an incisive and prudent strategist that is capable of making judgements on the best way to handle everything from a military engagement to a loss of faith by one of his charges. One of the first on the field and the last off the young Inquisitor does is best to exemplify the characteristics of a courageous and deeply faithful leader. This is colored by a strange warmth from a man who many initially find reserved and impassive.

In the worst of times many have accused Father Duanei of being stubborn and dogmatic in his approach to things. This stems from the fact that he relies on his training and believes that his is perfectly capable so long as he remains focused and reliant on his strengths. On the rare occasions that Father Duanei loses perspective he can become moody and vindictive if he believes that others aren’t taking him seriously. For the soldiers under his command this has led to an impression that Father Duanei is actually rather cantankerous with those who he sees as slow believing that everyone should perform to their abject best at all times. Though he would never admit it; this is actually true. Father Duanei has a moderate streak of impatience when it comes to others who he believes should be able to keep up with him or his orders.

Background: Tàerlach’s father maintains that his line is that of proud guardians to their clan when it was still a free people roaming the northern regions of the continent. If this is actually true remains to be seen but since he was capable of working Tàerlach has done exactly that, hauling machinery around the docks where the Steam Arks were constructed. In his youth he often dreamed of sailing on the Arks as a soldier in the Secular Army or perhaps even as a Knight whom he greatly admired from a distance.

Time and hard lessons shaped the young man until he was nine. It was at that point that his father who was dying of a lung infection revealed to his son that the tales he had told him growing up were all true. Showing him preserved texts from his family line Ailean made sure his son understood that when he was gone his son would carry the stories and knowledge with him. With the new knowledge Tàelach redoubled his effort on the docks in the hope that one day he might actually be able to make use of the things his father was teaching him from the texts. The exaltation however was short lived. Returning from the yard he was greeted by inquisitors of the Church. While at the time he was too young to truly understand they informed him that his father was a heretic. What followed next was the only thing that saved the young man from suffering his father’s fate. In an uncontrolled and shocking display Tàerlach tapped the potent well of ether he was possessed of and assaulted one of the inquisitors with his bare hands. The attack was faster and more brutal than any ten year old should have been capable of. While it was hardly a problem for a trained and mature inquisitor it was the catalyst for his induction into the Red Seminary.

Unbeknownst to him at the time the Inquisitor in question was Gregoroth. After witnessing the unbridled fury and innate capability of the child the Inquisitor in a display of curiosity recovered the texts Tàerlach’s father was in possession of. The texts themselves were apostasy from the time of the Muraad conquest however they contained etheric techniques that were favored by the bloodline. Taking them to keep them out of the hands of any other burgeoning Muraad heretics Gregoroth would eventually share small parts of them with the young Tàerlach in an attempt to discern if he truly had an affinity for the techniques contained within the book.

As he progressed in his study it was determined that in fact Tàerlach was possessed of particular affinities in his ethereal abilities. Gregoroth never told him but the Inquisitor slowly fed the young man much of the training from the texts in an effort to forge a powerful and faithful member of the clergy from the stolen techniques of a long dead heretical line. While Tàerlach would never know the source of the techniques he would be put to use in the service of the Godking.

Talents/Ethereal Abilities:

• Open Hand/Closed Fist- Eschewing the preference for true melee weapons Tàerlach is a specialist in unarmed combat. Having studied a staggering number of collected and stolen martial disciplines in his time at the Red Seminary the young man is a veritable font of striking and grappling techniques. While on their own such things are only so effective against blades and bullets the skill forms the foundation for the Seminaries training.
• Observe/Act- While he is a capable warrior Tàerlach understands the limitations of his capabilities and was trained to apply his presence in a fight at critical junctures during its course. To some this may appear that he is refraining from taking the field or moving to the front of a fight out of some sort of cowardice. The simple fact is that Tàerlach is looking for an opportunity to put his particular prowess to the maximum effective use. Often this takes the form of targeting leadership or breaking up problematic groups in the enemies force.
• Bend/Break- Tàerlach is devoid of nearly any sort of “spells” however his ability to manipulate his personal Ether is already staggering despite his age. This often takes the form of incredibly powerful Palings which Tàerlich employs to move through a fight nearly unscathed. When paired with blinding bursts of speed and strength the man becomes a devastating hand to hand combatant moving from target to target incapacitating them so that his allies can do their own lethal work unmolested.
• Stone Splitting Water- While he can manifest a traditional spell blade it is a rare day for him to do so. More often than not Tàerlach folds the spellblade along the edges of his hands, forearms, feet and shins. The heavier armor serves a mold for this unique spell blade turning his punches, kicks, chops, and sweeps into deadly weapons that tear through armor, snap blades, shatter guns and rip flesh.

Personal Seal: After his Culmination Father Duanei was gifted his families Seal by his mentor. The only link to his family's past

Character Relationships:

Warband Pheonix and Leviathan:

Anything that needs adjustment now please let me know so I can make the adjustments. Its an unedited draft so any spelling, grammar, etc. will disappear when it gets final edits. It will also look pretty when I'm finished but I need a content pass from people who know whats up so that I know if I'm screwing some lore up.

The Last Embers (No longer accepting characters)

@LovejoyI generally have a rule against joining old games. However I am atleast currently interested. I'm happy to have a look around though.

Your post rate is sufficiently slow. I was concerned your in character would be overly laborious to catch up on. It appears that's not the case. Your out of character however is going to be rather tedious. Do you have a world anvil or something where you've actually collected the totality of your lore for review and study?

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

Castigus

Bridge of The Awoken - ???.M41

The gathering of various chaos adherents did not bode well for the success of the entire endeavor. Truthfully it made Castigus sick to his stomach and his glands reacted accordingly. The taste of acid in his mouth made him feel the need to spit. Instead, he swallowed it neatly. Another time. His stomach would reabsorb the incredibly potent saliva. Blessings of the Nighthaunter few though they were. His Legions gene-seed was pure.

The addition of three more mercenaries made him shift from disinterest to annoyance before finally settling on downright disgust as the Khornate made his entrance. It was everything his Legion hated in one living being. The itch to put his hand back on the blackout grenade and gun the chain axe was nigh irresistible. Something about Laszlo’s shift, however, made him stop. The Alpha Legion marine was scheming. Castigus wasn’t exactly sure how he knew it and frankly with their kind it really never stopped but something about his bearing told him new calculations were occurring in his Brother’s head. That was enough to quell the urge to dispatch the mutant freak of a creature that had once been Astartes. He wondered vaguely if the creature had been XII legion. It wouldn’t surprise him to find out that was the case. They had never been a stable legion. Which was rich coming from him. At least Angron had grown up learning from humans as opposed to simply terrorizing and occasionally eating them. Then again none of them had altered Xenos technology hardwired into their brains so, in the end, he supposed it was an even comparison. Never mind the fact that by the time he was 10 he’d perfected the art of murder. After losing his older brothers it had been up to him to keep his sister out of trouble. Thankfully after the first time, it had become increasingly easy.

Shaking free of the memory he shifted in the shadows on the edge of the room. It was clear their host had a plan and almost on cue he announced they were being sent to collect some sort of relic from the surface of the hell hole they were in high orbit above. Mortals. Always chasing after legends to increase their fame. As though it made a difference. This one would die and be forgotten like so many others. Billions had been ground to meat by the inexorable tide of blood and steel that drowned the galaxy and the eye of terror since the siege of Holy Terra. This one wasn’t special. When he offered them slaves Castigus nearly shot the man.

---

Castigus

Enroute to the Surface - Mission day 1.0 ???.M41

The shuttle left much to be desired. Castigus was used to deploying from low orbit or the back of a Thunderhawk and insane speeds. This was neither of those things. The Nightraptor stood idly in the back of the shuttle wondering why in the name of the Primarchs they had taken up with these fools when suddenly things got interesting. Laverna went sailing across the interior of the shuttle and it sent everything into a lurch. It took Castigus a few stumbling steps before he finally mag-locked his boots to the decking. Laszlo caught the flying bodyguard and crammed her back into the command throne. Part of him half expected one of the mortals to say that absurd phrase that marked them as being born after the Heresy. He smirked inside his helm as a series of ruins blinked to life inside his helmet’s display. ”Throne of the God-Emperor”. It didn’t happen immediately so no need to expend any of his precious bolt shells. Listening to Laszlo tell the mortal woman to land the craft he finally cackled aloud over his vox grill. It was a strange sound amplified by the helm and the depth of his astartes enhanced form. “Don’t bother landing us just get me close.” Blink-clicking the ruin in the upper left corner of his helmet’s display he watched the readouts for his jump pack spool up. The machine spirit was ready for war and the crews mechanicum servitors had provided the necessary fuel for it. With plodding steps, he made his way towards the shuttle’s doorway. Really he just needed to clear the shuttle so hopefully the mortal could get the damn ship to stop spinning.

Turning to look he braced by the door and in Nostroman, over the vox link between him and his brother, vocalized “In Midnight Clad”. With that, he waited for the signal they were close enough for him to jump.

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

Excellent

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

@Guy0fV4lor I am the 40k community lol. Well. Me and my small friend group.@Jbcool I'm never going to.

Hey we got permission to break and enter lol

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

Castigus

Bridge of The Awoken - ???.M41

The journey had been a longer one than Castigus could rightly stand. It had almost driven him mad with how little his skills had been used. No practice cages, no hunts, no screaming pounding combat stims flooding his veins as he swooped down on terrified prey only to rip them to bloody bits and vanish into the darkness. It was the Alpha Legionnaires fault, though he had to give his brother credit. It had worked. No one had noticed them come and go. He was unused to using stealth in such a fashion. For the Nightlords it was a prelude, the soft sickly notes of a song which would end it bloody screaming crescendos. For Laszlo it was the heart of the song, the nature of the prowl. To be unseen, unheard, undetected, and for only the remnants of one's acts to be found. If that. It was not unlike the teachings of his father the Nighthaunter. With the exception of the fact that one could never really tell if it had been the Alpha Legion. When it came to the Nightlord’s campaigns, the enemy always knew what howled in the night and road on the wind. Let ten thousand howls promise ten thousand claws. The Night Lords are coming. And no soul that stands against us shall see another dawn. The words of Malcharion’s work resounded in his head.

Laszlo stepped from the shadows of the room snapping Castigus back to the present. It was so brazen and forthright. The silence was meant for him to announce his own presence but the moment went on for a second before the doors were slammed open. Still wreathed in the shadows at the corner of the room Castigus’ blade went from its sheath to his hand faster than any mortal or most augmetic eye could track. It was a liquid motion honed over centuries of war. Instantly his helmet’s display flashed several dozen threat ruins into existence in a dizzy flood of information. The Ogryn if that is what it was that crashed into the room was waving a ripper pistol. It was a huge brutish thing clearly warped by the effects of chaos. The rampant mutations alone were enough for Castigus to want to tear its head from its shoulders. His vox grill clicked as he breathed within his helm “Preysight” Instantly his visual field flicked to a mass of heat signatures as his right hand primed the blackout grenade on his tactical webbing. The movements were short and controlled but when the Ogryn finally came to a halt and nothing more happened he could feel his muscles itch. The spirit of his power armor had flooded him with a wash of combat stims and they were now going to waste. Pity. Clearly this was just another member of a warband of mutants, mortals, and bottomfeeder scum. As the newest mortal finished his question Castigus audibly clicked the Legion Combat Knife back into its sheath at his hip. The noise ominous in the room though he doubted many of the things in the room were either intelligent enough to feel appropriate fear or had ever even encountered one of his kind. They were an increasingly rare breed within the eye. Relaxing his grip on the blackout grenade he released the primer. Relaxing back into a casually ready stance.

As far as he was concerned they had gone “In Midnight Clad” There was no reason for him to speak more than a single phrase. The words were heavy accented low gothic. He was Nostoman born and the universal language had never really lost of the lingering effects of the fact that his Legion spoke almost exclusively Nostoman.

“Castigus, of the Night Lords.” Unlike Laszlo, his armor remained the dark blue color of midnight and brass. The bastard legion held no appeal for him. Though in truth he doubted Laszlo was doing anything more than sowing confusion and concealing his true nature. Such were the Alpha Legion. The Night Lord didn’t leave the shadows, it was less a matter of being ominous than it was the fact that even the dimmest lit sections of this ship were far brighter than even the Twilight decks, which housed legion serfs, of a Night Lord cruiser. The light was distasteful and without his helmet, it would have been painful.

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

Ahhhh...Warhammer 40k nerds. Some things never change, it feels good to be back in the realm of Sniffs and pushes glasses up his nose "In the expanded universe...." I'm so glad I bothered to backtrack and read that. It made me smile and I'm not being abrasive or sarcastic I love people who care about their fandom. Y'all rock and I'm not making fun of you.

@Jbcool@Guy0fV4lor@Andreyich

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

Sorry yall. Week caught up to me

[Storms and Shadows] - A Black Crusade inspired 40k Chaos RP.

Castigus

Name/Titles: Castigus Sharak

Denomination: Chaos Undivided.

Appearance:

Towering at approximately nine and a half feet tall out of his power armor Castigus frame is on the tall end of the space marines range of heights. With pale skin, black eyes, and dark stingy black hair he is readily identifiable as a Nostroman native. The right side of his head has been shaved away and Nostroman script spiders across the pale flesh in blue ink. Crawling down the right side of his face and neck; the tattoos continue down over his right shoulder. A gift or perhaps a curse from the Ruinous Powers the tattoo is a warp mutation.

The Astartes gene-bulked body features the characteristic ports of his black carapace. Beneath his skin dark lines have begun to appear tracing veins and arteries; another visible sign of his increasing corruption.

In his armor, Castigus is a terrible sight to behold. Painted in the colors of his legion the armor is covered with a variety of death motifs as originally encouraged by The Nighthaunter. Hundreds of decorative bronze skulls can be seen within the trim of his armor. Each wrought with varying degrees of expression in the brown arches and jaws of the skulls. Eschewing the bat-winged helm of other Legionnaires, Castigus helm is smooth save for his vox-grille which has been worked into the clenched teeth of a skull. Additional markings along his pauldrons and armor indicate his assignment to the Tenth Company, 3rd Claw as a Night Raptor. If the markings were not enough of an indication, Castigus preference for a jump pack often makes it readily apparent. Armed with Legion bolt pistol, bolt gun, combat Knife and chain axe, Castigus maintains the lighter close combat weapons of a Raptor over more archaic or heavy armaments.

Personality: On the opposite end of the spectrum from many of his companions in the Night Raptor’s ranks Castigus possess an almost laconic demeanor. Many could accuse him of being slow at the worst of times or overly patient at the best. While he may be slower to anger or bloodlust than his murderous brothers he still possesses the gene predilections of his legion. When combat or the need to inflict terror and pain are upon him Castigus loses much of his usual demeanor becoming vicious and brutal. True to his assignment as a Night Raptor.

Following the destruction of third Claw, Castigus has begun to learn to channel this hot burning viciousness. The change has been brought about more out of necessity than out of real want on his part as it stems from his new Alpha Legion brother. As if this change were not strange enough Castigus has also begun another, perhaps arguably more sinister, change in his personality. The Nighthaunter’s grim sense of black and white justice has begun to creep back into Castigus’ actions and thoughts. Where once he might have slaughtered everyone without a thought he now assigns sins for which they are being punished. Cowardice, Pride, Sloth, the list goes on.

Biography: Castigus was born on Nostromo and was raised there during the Great Crusade. His family were informants for one of the local crime bosses after the Nighthaunter had been called back to Holy Terra and the planet had deteriorated once more. During one of the selections for children to be sent as a tithe, he was selected. His parents were merely thankful that it was the youngest and not one of his older siblings who were chosen. Little did they know it was his age that was to be desired for he would be gene forged into one of the Emperor’s Astartes.

Years passed in a whirlwind for Castigus who passed the trials of a space marine and was finally assigned to 10th Company. Void Warfare Specialists. For a time it was almost a peaceful thing for him. They would be sent off to one theatre of war or another. By that time their reputation was established. The system or world would plead for mercy, and there would be mercy. The Emperor’s Mercy in the form of a vicious and sudden campaign of terror and brutality before order was restored. It mattered little to Castigus who the enemy was for it was a simple thing. Whoever his Captains and Primarch said he should kill. He killed with startling viciousness letting them scream out their last moments in blessed fear.

Then the time came, the Warmaster. Now the Arch-Traitor Horus decided it was for the best that the Emperor be dethroned. Once again he was pitched back into the fight but this time. This time it was different. Brother fought brother, and the carnage that was wrought across the Galaxy was apocalyptic. Castigus reveled in it as he always had but now his brother’s deviations were not so strange in light of Lorgar’s children allowing the Neverborn to ride their souls. Or for Slow and plodding Mortarion’s children to show up to the siege of Terra bloated with pox and disease. “Gifts” he later learned from the death god Nurgle. Still, stranger was Magnus’ Thousand Sons fully steeped in the powers of the Warp. The list went on. It didn’t matter.

While his brother’s boots found the soil of Holy Terra Castigus fought a different war. A silent one. In the quiet void between ships where he participated in boarding action after boarding actions. Racing down the hallways of Imperial ships and Space Marine battle barges alike. The Cult Mechanicus had sided with them after all… The rush had been something, unlike anything he had ever felt.

When all was said and done they fled into the night. Sowing terror and death across the stars before they were finally forced to limp into Eye space. Their Captain became the Exalted. Things changed. They always did. It was never really the same in light of Tera. Finally, the day came. He never could remember the name of the planet. Some Black Legion resisting bastion of Slaaneshi cultists. Didn’t matter. They screamed a lot. He couldn’t tell if it was from the fear they had inflicted or because they liked it. When it was all said and done he was left wandering on the surface of a still reeling planet. Alone without the other members of Third Claw with the Covenant of Blood vanished into the void.

That had been when he met the Alpha Legionnaire. After a brief standoff in which they determined that their goals were mutually aligned the two began the grim business of escaping the planet and finding a new purpose. An unlikely duo to say the least. But an effective and deadly one without a doubt. The cunning of a Twentieth Legion spook and the sheer unadulterated fear of an Eight Legion terror trooper working in concerted tandem.

Necessity and the will of the Gods have finally seen fit to bring the pair to the surface of Skuberrima. Strange enough to find a single legionnaire without a Warband, let alone two from different Legions. Running low on personal supplies it's clear the two are more than willing to sell their talents to the highest bidder. And their talents are nothing to be scoffed at.

Other: The Night Lords have several notable differences from other space marine Legions stemming from their heritage and the will of their Primarch. Notably They are capable of a Vox amplified shriek sufficient to incapacitate most augmented and augmented mortals for a period of time. In addition their power armor has been augmented to provide a type of auspex that augments their already perfect night vision giving them the ability to see living beings heat signatures, termed “prey sight”. Castigus was blessed with Nostroman heritage and as a result has the perfect night vision of his legion however bright unfiltered lights can be painful and disruptive to his sight without his helmet.