Well never expected to do this in my lifetime. Still I've got time, maybe a little story time might do me some good.
Hey you… Yes you… Stay a while and listen.
I take it you recognize my robes huh kid? Ya I understand, not often someone such as myself would speak to anyone so casually. I'm sure you have heard all about me, I take it you have some questions?
Well, today is you lucky day, I'm trying to relax and it seems I'm feeling a bit nostalgic. Do you want to hear my story? I promise you will not hear of this in any books or holo-vids.
Yes. I thought you might be interested. Well, take a seat this will take a long while, but I'm sure we have time.
I was born Garrion Reik on the Major Forge world of Kyphus Prime. I'm sure you have never heard of a Forge World, they are massive worlds created for a single purpose. The churning, creation and experimentation of all thing technological by the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Tech-Priests. Worlds like these are massive worlds with even larger manufactorums, factories that create anything form small bolts to Titan War Machines. The sheer number of manufactorums dot the entire world, and countless billions work and toil in less than satisfactory conditions.
I was born to that world, and as such it was the only world I knew of. My mother was a Captain in the Adeptus Arbites and my father was a Seargent in the Imperial Guard, until he lost his arm and could not afford the higher quality prosthetics, now he is an advisor to the Arbites, that's how he met mom.
I suppose I can say that they were good parents, they provided all the that was required of a parent. Still, my only complaint was that they were never there, after all when serving the Tech-Priests the Arbites are bound to work unwanted hours. I learned to live, love and for the first decade of my life things were simple.
I did have to make a point to my parents; they had some really good genetics. What I lacked in station I made up for it in skill. I was smart for a child, stronger than one too. I guess I made a decent amount of friends, but I always felt isolated because I was just a bit better at anything they cold do. But, regardless of such the first decade was the easiest and calming part of my life.
But that all changed, three months after my birthday the annual Imperial Tithes came out, and I was drafted into the Imperial Guard, just like my father. When this was heard everyone was concerned, after all less then 0.01% of the Imperial Guard ever return to his or her home worlds, or come back at all. Even still my father knew of the horrors of what lay beyond the dark void. He always said that what he saw would break most men and that he was lucky to be alive. However, despite every protest my mother and father gave out there was nothing they could really do without being branded as heretics. And so at the age of ten, I left my Home world of Kyphus Prime, I believed that I would never see them. Now that I think about it I wish that I were right back then. After what happened I really wish that I never went back home.
Still I was drafted as a Guardsman and my new life began. Now I realize that for all my natural talent as a kid was worth jack squat when the drill seargent got through with me. The commanding officer in charge of boot camp was Seargent "Hardass" Magrath, a hiveworlder with a pentient for lho sticks and bad language. He tore me and my squad mates a new one every time we did something wrong, and if we didn't he would make something up. I truly felt insignificant, getting my own butt handed to me on every occasion. Now that I think about it, I believe the Magrath saw that I was a cut above the rest that he put extra effort on breaking me. Longer exercises, harder conditions and harsher penalties, these were only the beginnings. I was gifted, talented and in the end that worked against me.
He turned my squad against me whenever I succeeded, and made me suffer when I didn't. It was a way to unify the squad really, find a common enemy and mutually work together for its destruction. It was a good concept except my success, and in turn myself, was the enemy. Rough nights, back room beatings, isolation and lower quality rations were the overall outcome, but rest assure that was only for the first year. It got worse the following years, But then again I suppose I should have seen that coming, I am a stubborn bastard after all. For seven years this continued on, and during those years the pressure continued and I gained some respect amongst my squad mates, albeit grudgingly. Seven long years of training, conditioning and suffering, yet it absolutely failed me in my first battle. Actually, it was more akin to a massacre.
My first battle came into the world of Angrivan, a jungle planet housing thousands of lethal denizens. High Command told us that a minor Heretic Rebellion was based on the planet. Our job was to put these traitors to the sword. I was part of 317th Corigan Line Infantry. We were to make landfall with the rest of the Regiment and secure a landing for the rest of the fleet. But the moment we stepped of the Valkyrie Transport Ships we were hit on all sides by artillery and a hail of bullets. It took the loss of thirty percent of the landing party for us to realize that we had walked right into a kill-zone. By then two of my squad mates made the mistake of breaking the lines while in the presence of a Commisar, as such his actions can be heard from the staccato burst from his Bolt Pistol followed by the two more bodies dropping to the ground. I was lucky, I would be the third person to brake the lines had I not saw the consequences. This was my first skirmish after all, and now was very good time to panic, fear was becoming a good friend of mine.
It was fortunate that we found a defensible position in some old ruins in the jungle. But the problem was we stayed alive as long as we fortified ourselves in the ruins and not move, the fleet in orbit demands that a suitable spot be made to land troops. That means we have to march back to the kill zone, if they we don't create landing than they will bombard our position are to make one. So far we were immobile two out of the three days Fleet Command gave us, we were running out of time.
That was when we were reinforced, by an Inquisitor no less. That would mark the day that would end my easy days. No longer would I have easy opportunities anymore, no longer would I walk on the path of ignorance, no longer would I gain the simple comfort of being beaten to a pulp jealous squad mates. It was at that moment I truly joined the Galaxy, for it was that moment that Inquisitor Joris Galatan came into my existence, and brought with him all the glories and all the horrors that this life might bear.
It was a miracle we survived Angriven. The Inquisitor and his Retinue broke the siege and forced back the heretic ambush. I am glad to say that after that it was more or less business as usual after that, lots of men died, and even more heretics were put to the torch and the survivors of the ambush were given commendations for simply surviving. But, I was given more; I received an opportunity to be inducted as an acolyte for the Inquisitor Galatan. I was naïve back then. I thought that it would be exciting working with someone who had near limitless authority, shows you exactly how much of a fool I was then.
I jumped at the chance and believed that I would never regret such a decision. But, my enthusiasm would not last long. When we reached the research world of Marrow, Inquisitor Galatan's base, I was immediately apprehended, bound in chains and tranquilized, I honestly can't remember the order in which that happened. I would wake up on some days with voices hovering around me but most of the time I was stuck in a rather small albeit comfortable room, I had assumed it was my cell. I don't know how long this lasted, losing consciousness waking up to faceless voices, passing out again only to wake up in my room with my next hot meal. What I do know however, is that at some point in the future Inquisitor Galatan finally visited me t explain the situation. I only stayed cordial with him because, he had all the power and I wasn't really treated half badly during my imprisonment.
He told me that was an Inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus, that he was part of the Thorrian faction within the Inquisitor Conclave. The Thorrians believe that certain individuals are touched by the blessings of the Emperor of Man, and that they hold just a small piece of his immense power within him. They called me an "Avatar" one such being whom the Emperor touched; the proof was seen in my strange ability. An ability they had called "Fate-Eater", which allowed me to take the powers and fate of those I killed. To this day I have no idea how they know about this, back then I didn't believe them and called them crazy. It was only in later years did I actually see proof of this strange ability.
The Thorrians believe that through out the Universe several people called "Avatars" were touched by the Emperor and as such believe that if they can create a suitable vessel they can completely resurrect the Master of Man into the corporeal world and lead humanity to victory. A lofty goal, I responded thusly, but I questioned the inquisitor about my role. Then he turned his grim eyes on me. And a pang of regret was seen clear in them, he told me of my purpose, and it shocked me to the core. They needed a control experiment to cage just how much a vessel can take before the Emperor's power became too much for it, the experiment being me. The horror shocked me into silence. The Inquisitor told me that the reason he was treated respectably well was because at the end of the experiment I would lose my life for the good of the Imperium. The piece of the Emperor that they were attempting to summon would overwhelm my soul and eventually burn it out. At best they were hoping to manifest as much power as they could, but in the process my own life force would extinguished.
As these thoughts churned into my head I began to notice how my vision was getting blurred. Inquisitor Galatan spoke to me one last time, he said he was sorry and that my sacrifice would not be forgotten. Before I could rebuke him my consciousness fled from me and all was black once more.
After that I only woke one last time, I was strapped to a table that was upright. As my vision swam I could make out that I was stuck on the Imperium Aquila that was carved into the table. Dozens of voices were chanting around me and I was at the dead center. My mind was going a mile a minute, but I couldn't move, I couldn't talk, hell by the warp I couldn't even defecate myself to save my life. Something was holding me back and my fear was not helping, I was going to die soon and panic flowed through me. Finally, just before the light overtook my senses I remembered one thing from that ordeal.
I want to live…
I don't want to die…
I can still give so much…
I'm not ready…
I don't want to go alone…
I can still fight…
I can still survive…
Someone help me…
Give me power…
Power enough to no longer fear…
…
…
…
What is your name…
When I awoke the next time I was on a cold metal surface and the familiar smell of steel and antiseptics struck my nostrils. When I opened my eyes I was greeted with a sight I thought I would never see again. When I was still living in Kyphus Prime everyone knew of the Magos that held absolute knowledge and authority. His name was Magos Ruganza, and he might not have the highest rank in Kyphus but he had amased much knowledge and material that made him a force of nature. His influence was his power and no one had more influence in the system then him. And ironically enough said individual was examining me at this very moment. I could tell it was him because he was the only Tech-priest that had two working brains encased in stasis fluid connected to him. In truth I never realized what he used those brains for, considering it was always present on him I just assumed he used it to augment his own intelligence, you know make him smarter somehow.
He told me that his Explorator Fleet was flying in the nearby system their ship's auspex picked up a large energy reading. What they found was that the entire world was reduced to a smoldering ash, not too dissimilar to the after effects of Exterminatus. He said that amongst the burned earth all they found was me in absolute critical condition. I looked around and cringed as I felt my world swimming in pain. The Magos saw my reaction and explained to me the damage he found me in.
The most obvious damage was the fact that my left arm, from hand to shoulder, was completely gone. Obviously, whatever happened in the ritual was not something the Inquisitor accounted for. The next piece of damage was my skeleton, or at the very least what is left of it. It would seem that the Magos found that all of my bones were all fractured in some unknown manner, my skull was in the best condition and even that had a minimum of three fractures. By all accounts I should be dead. The last injury was my nervous system. He explained to me that whatever happened to me burned out over eighty five percent of my nerves, he said that whatever sensation I was feeling was dulled because most of my nerves are gone. At that point my depression was near rock bottom, panic once again surrounded me.
However, by design or blessing the Magos offered me a deal. He stated that I was an interesting "specimen". He said that he would repair my body to the best of his ability in return for servitude to him and his Quest for Knowledge. With nothing left to lose I accepted and let the dice roll, never really comprehending what it was I would be giving up. Up until this point I still cannot remember if my decision was fueled by despair or fatalistic acceptation.
The next time my consciousness came to me a new face came to me. One that I had no idea or recognition. His crimson robe gave away his position but he was surrounded by many more robed people, each one more armed then the next. The Priest asked me many questions with myself still bound on an operating table. He asked who I was, what I did, my relation to the previous Magos and what was done to me. When the interrogation was complete it was my turn to ask questions, or at least questions they seem fit to answer.
I asked about who he was, and was told that he was the New Magos in Kyphus Prime, Magos Attalus. When I asked I asked about what happened to Magos Ruganza, Magos Attalus told me that he was dead and executed as a Heretic. This definitely threw me in a loop, when I questioned him what was his crime he responded by saying he created an illegal Venatorii. Myself being a Forge Worlder knew what a Venatorii was, they were the spear point of the Adeptus Mechanicus, elite cyborg soldiers, gifted humans blessed by the Tech-priests. Or at least that was what I had thought they were. Apperantly, I did not realize the height of the previous Magos' crime. Magos Attalus told me that Magos Ruganza had been harding both advanced holy tech and ancient archetech within this very bunker. And used these materials to craft an un-recorded Venatorii. The creation of a Venatorii in of itself was not really a crime, however, the usage of Ancient Archeotech and so mech advandanced holy Tech was considered a "waste of resources", as such ws one of the highest crimes any Tech-priest can commit. Magos Ruganza, apperantly, commited such a crime in spades, he hoarded Archeotech and implanted so much of it into the Venatorii, the amount of tech and time that was inputted into it was enough to make several common Venatorii easily.
However, before anymore of the conversation continued I finally began to notice a certain feeling in my body. It was the sensation of my left hand, and considering I lost it in that little experiment I was shocked to see the new appendage on my body. The cold feeling of dread creeped up my spine, but I finally realized that I felt different as a whole. The normal pains I should have felt for a crippled skeleton was no longer there. The burning sensation of a damaged nerves were absent as well. But the final nail to the coffin was tha my form was covered in ared cloth, finally wrought red cloth to be exact. And not all that different from the Tech-Preists in front of me.
My mind was awash with questions, panic and finally, understanding. I was about to give voice to my realization when the Magos finally flipped a switch in my head. With a binary phrase my life took a new and horrifying turn. To the rest of the galaxy I was a newly born Venatorii, the spearpoint of the Adeptus Mechanicus. To the Imperium I was the mechanical marvel that brought wonder and awe to the Adeptus Mechanicus. To the Tech-Priests themselves I was a tool, albeit a valuable and expensive tool, but a tool none the less that they plan on expending until all that was left would be dust and the Machine Compenents. But to me, I knew the truth. And the truth was that they killed me,they erased me and replaced me with a machine, and to my eternal horror I could see nothing wrong with that. I could not see anything wrong with that.
I tell you this because this would be the first time my death was recorded, but the second time I actually died.
I'm back peoples. Sorry I took so long but I wanted to create a character that was not too OP. and would be somewhat believable. I mean face it a Rgue Trader/ Inquisitor and a Space Marine Chapter Master are really difficult to bring to life with all their bad assery. At the very least this gut is more human (or at least was) before the overwhelming awesomeness will consume him. Any way let me know what you think and no hate-mail please that dulls me down a bit. Hope you guys like this.