Hi there everyone, this is my first Warhammer fic. Also, nearly all the
characters main and supporting in it are of my own creation except for the
ones known either the Warhammer 40k universe and/or the Warhammer fantasy
world. For those of you who may not understand some of the things, I've taken
the liberty of adding in a glossary of terms and words I thought would be
helpful for you to understand this fic for every chapter. Anyways, enough
of me talking. Onto the story!
Disclaimer: Warhammer, Warhammer 40k and all related names belong to Games Workshop. All non-game/storyline characters are mine as are any changes made to the Warhammer universe.
Twilight's Crossing
by Karandras
Prologue
Time flows as it wills. Ages past by, civilizations rise and fall. Always there is an evil that threatens to overtake the universe. Time and again heroes rise up to meet that challenge, some for their families, others for their honor; all heroes have different motives. Few know that Time is relative, shifting and swirling like a fierce maelstrom. Every dimensional universe has its own counterpart, a parallel dimension that is strangely similar yet completely different. The Cycle of Time is never-ending, always flowing like a gentle river. Many tales speak of saviors from other dimensions, stumbling over into their parallel dimension; caught in a war they never wanted to be a part of. Yet each one fights when the need is great, when Chaos threatens to run rampant unopposed throughout the lands. This is one such tale.
****************
Heavy raindrops hammered into the darkened streets of Altdorf as lightning lit the darkness of the sky. Altdorf is a grand city as well as the capital of the Empire, the strongest, wealthiest and most famous realm in the Old World. Made up of independent provinces and city states, the Empire is ruled over by Elector Counts and the ultimate power; the Emperor Karl Franz.
Located on the western side of the Empire, at the intersection between the Rivers Reik and Talabec, Altdorf is home to some of the greatest institutions of human endeavor, such as the Colleges of Magic, the Imperial Engineers School and the world renowned University of Altdorf. It is at the Colleges of Magic that theogonists gather to study arcane texts and scriptures of the past; including studying the arts of Magic.
Inside a decrypted room in a tower adjacent to the Great Hall of the Grand College of Magic, Master Theogonist Velkir the Aged studiously read through scrolls upon scrolls of arcane writing from times long past. Upon his tableau laid mounds of scrolls and documents in an disorganized mess- some written in the language of the high elves, others written in Common.
Peering through his dust specked eyeglasses Velkir stared at the ancient symbols, deciphering them in his mind using his vast knowledge of arcane lore. Velkir was not a young man nor was he tremendously old despite being called 'The Aged.' That came from his years of wandering the Old World, learning languages and lore of the past. Contact with foul and evil ridden scrolls have aged his body but not his mind.
Through the Light and Blessings of Sigmar, he has survived his encounters with such documents untainted by the filth of Chaos. A man of 70 summers old, he looked more like 100. Long wizened snow white hair grew down past his shoulders and almost exceeds the length of his long beard. Thin spectacles rested along a thin bony nose ending with a slight crook to the left.
Absent-mindedly he reached for the next set of scrolls, pulling his hand back with a surprised yelp. Looking up, he realized that he was harmed by the scrolls that were recently delivered to him from an excavation deep in the sewers of Nuln. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he gathered his energies, feeling the magic coursing through his body, forming a ward around his body to shield him from the harmful effects of the scroll's foul dark magic.
"Now then..." He said softly. Taking hold on the dusty old parchments he unrolled them and began reading the ancient characters written, occasionally muttering incoherently to himself. Though some of the wording was faded and other parts of the scroll were simply not there, failing to survive in the test of time, Velkir could only decipher a small portion of it. What parts he could make out however spelled a warning of dire times ahead.
On the eve of the 20st of Sigmarzeit
More than two thousand summers shall
have past since the crowning of Sigmar
The skies shall burn the color of blood
Shining auras shall appear throughout
the world signaling forth the darkness
The Time of Anarchy shall commence
as Darkness consumes the world.
"Light..." Velkir breathed in as he finished translating what few characters were legible. 'The Time of Anarchy!' He thought to himself as his beard quivered in fear.
"I must warn his Majesty." Velkir said loudly as he almost jumped up from his stool. Suddenly he stiffened as he felt a numbing sensation spreading from his back to all over his body. Blood rose up his throat in a gurgling froth. He fell back onto the floor, staring at a dark vaguely human shape with burning red eyes staring back at him. A wicked serrated dagger was held in the figure's hand as Velkir's blood, mixed with a foul greenish liquid coating the blade, dripped hissing onto the floor.
His vision fading, all Velkir could do was stare blankly at ceiling while his body went into a series of convulsions. The assassin drew back from Velkir, its shadow like cloak wrapping itself around the figure as though it was alive. The assassin faded into the shadows until only its glowing eyes can be seen malevolently until they too blinked out of existence. Velkir's vision blurred and swirled until the darkness overcame him as well.
********** Another Dimension **********
The battles raged fiercely on some nameless world near the fringes of the galaxy, close to the secluded Eldar craftworld of Alaitoc. Alaitoc drifts on the edge of the galaxy for the Eldar of Alaitoc strictly adhere to the culture known as the Path of the Eldar - that lifestyle which an Eldar will dedicate itself to the pursuit of knowledge in one sphere of life at a time.
Treading carefully through the thickets and high grass on the sloping hill, a tall figure crept quietly several steps ahead of his three companions. Their shifting hooded cloaks and easy grace as well as the strange highly advanced weapons marked them as Eldar.
Path-finders to be precise, from the Craftworld of Alaitoc, sent to delay the advance of the Imperium's elite soldiers, the Space Marines. Not only that but these trespassers dared to bring along with them foul Chaos Space Marines, millennia long traitors to the Imperium of Man.
Halting as the grassland opened up into large roaming plains, the lead Eldar stopped and held his hand up straight to signal the others behind him to stop. Crouching down to the ground, the lead Eldar spoke to his companions who flanked him.
"Our intelligence tells us that the mon keigh's genetically altered Space Marines shall be crossing this area shortly." He said, pronouncing the word space marines with such vehemence. "We are to intercept and destroy...." He trailed off as he heard a faint rustling from behind them. Turning with amazing speed, the four pathfinders leveled their weapons on to the unsuspecting intruder.
Seconds went by but nothing appear until they heard the chik-chik of a shuriken pistol being loaded from behind them. Turning around, weapons aimed at the intruder's head they were surprised to see a brightly clad Eldar standing before them.
They knew a Harlequin, fearsome Eldar troubadour fighters dressed in brightly coloured clothing whose superb acrobatic skills along with ancient artifacts of technology, such as the holosuit and many specialist hand-to-hand weapons, make them exceptionally deadly close combat fighters. Like all Eldar they are elusive foes, preferring to use swiftness and devastating attacks rather than massed armour and brute force.
It wasn't that unusual to meet a Harlequin if you followed the Path of the Outcast as all Rangers and Path-finders do. It was unusual however to be approached by one and especially if that one was dressed in dark morbid colors, nearly armed to the teeth. It could only be.....
"A Solitaire!" Exclaimed one of the younger Pathfinders behind the leader.
The Solitaire ignored him however, fixing his gaze on the leader. He closely examined the Path-finder in front of him, a tall male for an Eldar about 6 feet in height with the ever shifting cameleoline cloak of the Ranger blending in with the surrounding environment. His face was hooded and a face-mask covered the lower half of his face, providing oxygen should he encounter poison gas or harsh environments. A Ranger long rifle was slung over one shoulder and he too was gripping a shuriken pistol, lowered slightly at the sight of the Harlequin but still ready to fire its deadly rounds in an instant.
After several moments he nodded to the leader and asked, "You are Karthanmor?"
Karthanmor shot the Solitaire a hard look before responding.
"I am. Who seeks me?"
The Solitaire took a step forward, placing his right hand over his heart in an open palm fashion. "I am Karhaedron."
*********************
Birds squawked over the open fields below, their farseeing eyes knowing more than what the pathetic technology of the Imperial Guard can tell them. Though normally the lush open plains with few trees to use as cover and only moderately high grass for protection would normally be death for any who would be stupid enough to set camp there, it was the perfect site for the Imperial encampment.
The Imperial Guard's greatest strength is two things: It's heavy artillery combined with their armoured might, and their numbers. It is the the reason why such a defenseless place was chosen, Imperial tanks and artilleries stand by to defend it from every direction.
Inquisitor Abram Zeniks walked through the entrenched Imperial Guard camp, staring at the bustling movement of guardsmen preparing for the Chaos assault. Heavy muscled, jungle fatigued clad men were doing everything from setting up artillery to digging trenches.
Their red headbands and grim demeanors along with the way they carried themselves said that these were highly skilled and deadly fighters. What more can you expect from Imperial Guardsmen from the Death world of Catachan. These among are the strongest, most cunning and deadly soldiers, having grown up on a world where anything and everything can kill you if you aren't careful.
Dressed in a fine white trench coat heavily embroided with grim symbols of death, skulls and of course the Emperor's Eagle along with flak armour underneath, Inquisitor Zeniks walked the grounds with a determined stride. Hard high heeled boots crushed dirt sods beneath his feet and a staff with a skull imbued in a large golden star, which represented purification of humanity, rested on his back.
For an Inquisitor, he was young. Perhaps one of the youngest ever, being only 29 years old but already a member of the secret Ordo Malleus. Plain faced with a long scar running down the left side of his face right by his left eye; he had a cold, composed expression that belied years of intense training. Short brownish yellow hair added to slight chubby cheeks reminded some guardsmen of an eager young boy with too hopeful of dreams.
'Six months!' He screamed in his minds. 'We've been here for six bloody months and still haven't able to destroy the heretics.'
As he walked, Zenik's powersword tapped lightly in a rhythmic motion matching the clock ticking down the time before they would be overwhelmed by the heretical forces of Chaos. Though they are far greater in number than the small of traitor marines from the Iron Warriors legion, they could not hope to fight against such foes who have fought the Imperium of Man for the past 10,000 years.
Inquisitor Zeniks came to a halt in front of a tall, gaunt man dressed in a red uniform with the Imperial Hawk on his right breast and numerous medals for Valour and the like on the left breast of his uniform. Brown pants accompanied the red coat and hanging low on his right hip was a master crafted plasma pistol.
The commissar's lips pursed in humor from regarding Zeniks before speaking. "Our scouts reported that the heretics are advancing on this position. In the name of the Emperor, may he forever guide us, we shall destroy them or die trying. Your Grey Knights shall avenge us should we fall."
'Curse the man.' Zeniks thought. He didn't particularly like the Commissar, there was something about the way he treated the Inquisitor that set off numerous warnings in Zenik's head. 'When the heretics are dead, it won't matter if he does intend to betray the Imperium for the sake of his own men or not.' Zeniks thought coldy.
He knew from the moment he enlisted the aid of the 44th Catachan Regiment that he would eventually have to dispose of them. He had nothing against them it was simply policy of the Ordo Malleus, the Daemon Hunters, that all Imperial Guardsmen who survive the battles against the hordes and daemons of Chaos, after being enlisted to aid the Inquisitors, be killed to prevent the taint of Chaos to spread.
It would be the job of the Grey Knights, the 666 Chapter of Space Marines, to do so and destroy any remnants of the heretics left on this planet.
"Very well then Commissar Gradius, I expect the best from you and your men. My Grey Knights shall be here shortly."
Raising a cross-like pendant that hung around his neck, he kissed the Crux Terminatus and said, "May the Emperor's light shine on us today."
*********************
Warhammer 40k (The Sci-fi Universe) Glossary
Craftworld- Craftworlds are giant ships that travel through space; they are pure Wraithbone at the core and have a device called the Infinity Circuit that is the resting place of Eldar souls after the death of their body. In the core of the Craftworld is the Avatar, the embodiment of the spirit of Khaine, the Eldar god who died fighting the Great Enemy; the Avatar may be awakened with the sacrifice of the Young King, the most powerful Exarch of the Craftworld.
Eldar- The Eldar are an ancient, psychic and technologically advanced race (their spacefaring history predating humanity's by many thousands of year) who ruled the galaxy until a terrible catastrophe overcame them. Their decadence combined with powerful psychic abilities and warp energy caused the birth of a new god. Slannesh, the Great Enemy devoured a large proportion of the Eldar race in one night and continues to take the souls of all Eldar should they die without a Waystone. Although the Eldar were all but destroyed in the Fall, many survive. With the help of expert warriors and an ability to predict the future, gradually the Eldar are bringing together the shattered remnants of their civilization to once again rule the galaxy.
Flip belt- A flip belt is a compact anti-grav device which generates a short range negative-gravity field which, when combined with the Harlequins' already amazing acrobatic abilities, allows them to make all manner of gravity-defying leaps and bounds.
Daemon Hunters (Grey Knights)- Surpassing even their brother Space Marines in skill and ability, the level of expertise that each Grey Knight wields is such that they can exterminate a daemonic infestation that outnumbers them many times over. Armed with psychically charged force weapons, storm bolters and an unshakeable faith in the Emperor, there is little more daunting a foe for a Daemon to face.
God-Emperor of Man- The ruler of the Imperium of Mankind. He is a human with god-like powers and is virtually near immortal. He created the twenty Primarchs, using his own genetic material or geneseed, whose genetic material would be used to create the modern Space Marines. After reuniting the planets of mankind, the Emperor was betrayed by Horus, his most trusted Primarch who had fallen into the clutches of Chaos. Battle raged from planet to planet until ending on Terra (Earth) when Horus and the Emperor fought in single combat. The Emperor prevailed, but it cost him his mortal life. Horus' uprising was against the rightful God Emperor, and will thus be known evermore as the Horus Heresy. The shell of what was the Emperor is kept in a perpetual state of near death by an enormous stasis device called the Golden Throne on Terra. His psychic powers help light the Astronomican, the guiding light of the psychic navigators that guide mankind's ships through the Warp.
Harlequins- The Harlequins are a strange sub-sect of the Eldar race, consisting of warriors drawn from the other kindreds; the Craftworld Eldar, Exodites and Dark Eldar. They follow the only other Eldar god to survive the Cataclysm, the Laughing God. They are also the keepers of the ancient Eldar myths, and perform complex dances and plays to recreate these allegorical tales. The Harlequins are held in a mixture of fear, awe and respect by all other Eldar for their knowledge of the Webway is unmatched and they can appear and disappear almost at will.
Holo-suit- Harlequins do not wear physical armor to absorb blows, instead they rely on a sophisticated holo-suit to misdirect the enemy. A holo-suit also contains a mask which incorporates a holographic generator that projects images monstrous faces and daemonic visages, intensified by a short range pyschic field which increases their opponent's sensitivity to fear and despair.
Imperial Cult- The most widespread and well-established religion throughout the Imperium is the Imperial Cult. It has billions upon billions of followers throughout the Imperium, with representative cult leaders on every planet. The Imperial Cult teaches that the Emperor is the divine representative of the entire human race, who needs the worship of people everywhere to remain strong so that he can protect humanity. This creed is essentially true. The loyalty and determination of all of the Imperium's citizens is an important part of humanity's survival. But the Imperial Cult's teachings are also true in a literal way, because the Emperor does need the spiritual energies which his worshippers create in the warp.
Imperial Guard- The Imperial Guard is the largest and most diverse military organization the galaxy has ever seen. It contains billions of men supported by armored vehicles such as tanks and troop transports. These armored vehicles take the shape of flame throwing assault tanks, long range self propelled artillery guns, and the tried and true Leman Russ Battle Tank. Due to it's vast size, specialized weaponry and armor are rare and reserved for only the elite forces of the Imperial Guard. The standard guardsmen is sent into battle with a trusty lasgun and little more than the shirt on his back. Tactically, an Imperial Guard force uses blunt maneuvers and will rely upon big guns and sheer weight of numbers. Service in the Imperial Guard is rarely a glorious path to tread, nevertheless billions of valiant warriors lay down their lives for the sake of humanity, it's home, and the honor of the Emperor.
Imperium of Man- The Imperium of Man stretches across vast star systems, over billions of worlds. The Imperium is ruled by the God-Emperor but as he is nothing more than a corpse in a stasis field, the High Lords of Terra truly rule. In order to protect Humanity the Imperium is not only cruel and intolerant but xenophobic to other races, usually destroying any alien settlements on planets they wish to colonize, claiming it as "rightfully theirs and the alien heretics had no right to be there." Though the Imperium tries to be good, it's intolerancy and merging of religion as government makes it highly impractical. Those who oppose the Imperium are killed either using the brute force of Space Marines, Imperial Guard or Adeptus Arbites or by an assassin of the Officio Assassinorum.
Inquisitor- Inquisitors are the agents of the Imperium's Inquisition. The Inquisition is an ecclesiastical tribunal for suppression of heresy, Inquisitors are given special powers to do as they wish as they deem fit in order to bring heretics to justice. They are the most fanatical of all the God-Emperor's servants and as such are brutally cruel in their attempts to 'purify' the Imperium of all threats, external and internal. They are armed with the most advanced technology in the Imperium and have been known to command even the dreaded Space Marines as well as their destruction should an Inquisitor deem them unrepentant. Their two main mottos are: "Innocence proves nothing." and "The ends justifies the means."
Ranger Long Rifle- The Ranger long rifle fires something akin to needles, allowing the rifle to carry a much larger ammunition supply per catridge. The long rifle is equipped with a highly sophisticated sights, allowing the firer to locate weak points in an enemy's armour.
Shuriken weapons (IE: Shuriken Pistol, Shuriken Catapult, Shuriken Cannon)- The Eldar are famed for their shuriken weapons. These range in size from the Shuriken pistol to the shuriken cannon and all operate on the same principles. The aummunition is stored as a solid core of plasti-crystal material that is forced up from the magazine by a magnetic repulsor. A series of rapid high-energy impulses originating from the rear of the weapon then moves it forward at an intense speed. These impulses detach a monomolecular slice of the ammunition core and hurl it from the weapon's barrel, while the ammunition core is kept in the line of firing impulse by the magnetic repulsor. This allows the weapon to fire up to a hundred rounds of ammunition in a burst of one or two seconds, and each ammunition core is good for atleast ten bursts of fire before it needs replacing.
Space Marine- Space Marines are the most powerful and dreaded of all the human warriors in the Warhammer 40k universe. They are not Human at all but superhuman, having been made superior, in all respects, to a normal man by a harsh regime of genetic modification, psycho-conditioning and rigourous training. Being few in number compared to the uncounted billions of Humanity, Space Marines are organised into small independent armies called Chapters. Each Chapter is responsible for its own recruitment, training, equipment, organisation and strategy. Their unswerving loyalty is to the Emperor of Mankind and no other.
Webway- A system of warp tunnels spread throughout the 40k universe.
Disclaimer: Warhammer, Warhammer 40k and all related names belong to Games Workshop. All non-game/storyline characters are mine as are any changes made to the Warhammer universe.
Twilight's Crossing
by Karandras
Prologue
Time flows as it wills. Ages past by, civilizations rise and fall. Always there is an evil that threatens to overtake the universe. Time and again heroes rise up to meet that challenge, some for their families, others for their honor; all heroes have different motives. Few know that Time is relative, shifting and swirling like a fierce maelstrom. Every dimensional universe has its own counterpart, a parallel dimension that is strangely similar yet completely different. The Cycle of Time is never-ending, always flowing like a gentle river. Many tales speak of saviors from other dimensions, stumbling over into their parallel dimension; caught in a war they never wanted to be a part of. Yet each one fights when the need is great, when Chaos threatens to run rampant unopposed throughout the lands. This is one such tale.
****************
Heavy raindrops hammered into the darkened streets of Altdorf as lightning lit the darkness of the sky. Altdorf is a grand city as well as the capital of the Empire, the strongest, wealthiest and most famous realm in the Old World. Made up of independent provinces and city states, the Empire is ruled over by Elector Counts and the ultimate power; the Emperor Karl Franz.
Located on the western side of the Empire, at the intersection between the Rivers Reik and Talabec, Altdorf is home to some of the greatest institutions of human endeavor, such as the Colleges of Magic, the Imperial Engineers School and the world renowned University of Altdorf. It is at the Colleges of Magic that theogonists gather to study arcane texts and scriptures of the past; including studying the arts of Magic.
Inside a decrypted room in a tower adjacent to the Great Hall of the Grand College of Magic, Master Theogonist Velkir the Aged studiously read through scrolls upon scrolls of arcane writing from times long past. Upon his tableau laid mounds of scrolls and documents in an disorganized mess- some written in the language of the high elves, others written in Common.
Peering through his dust specked eyeglasses Velkir stared at the ancient symbols, deciphering them in his mind using his vast knowledge of arcane lore. Velkir was not a young man nor was he tremendously old despite being called 'The Aged.' That came from his years of wandering the Old World, learning languages and lore of the past. Contact with foul and evil ridden scrolls have aged his body but not his mind.
Through the Light and Blessings of Sigmar, he has survived his encounters with such documents untainted by the filth of Chaos. A man of 70 summers old, he looked more like 100. Long wizened snow white hair grew down past his shoulders and almost exceeds the length of his long beard. Thin spectacles rested along a thin bony nose ending with a slight crook to the left.
Absent-mindedly he reached for the next set of scrolls, pulling his hand back with a surprised yelp. Looking up, he realized that he was harmed by the scrolls that were recently delivered to him from an excavation deep in the sewers of Nuln. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he gathered his energies, feeling the magic coursing through his body, forming a ward around his body to shield him from the harmful effects of the scroll's foul dark magic.
"Now then..." He said softly. Taking hold on the dusty old parchments he unrolled them and began reading the ancient characters written, occasionally muttering incoherently to himself. Though some of the wording was faded and other parts of the scroll were simply not there, failing to survive in the test of time, Velkir could only decipher a small portion of it. What parts he could make out however spelled a warning of dire times ahead.
On the eve of the 20st of Sigmarzeit
More than two thousand summers shall
have past since the crowning of Sigmar
The skies shall burn the color of blood
Shining auras shall appear throughout
the world signaling forth the darkness
The Time of Anarchy shall commence
as Darkness consumes the world.
"Light..." Velkir breathed in as he finished translating what few characters were legible. 'The Time of Anarchy!' He thought to himself as his beard quivered in fear.
"I must warn his Majesty." Velkir said loudly as he almost jumped up from his stool. Suddenly he stiffened as he felt a numbing sensation spreading from his back to all over his body. Blood rose up his throat in a gurgling froth. He fell back onto the floor, staring at a dark vaguely human shape with burning red eyes staring back at him. A wicked serrated dagger was held in the figure's hand as Velkir's blood, mixed with a foul greenish liquid coating the blade, dripped hissing onto the floor.
His vision fading, all Velkir could do was stare blankly at ceiling while his body went into a series of convulsions. The assassin drew back from Velkir, its shadow like cloak wrapping itself around the figure as though it was alive. The assassin faded into the shadows until only its glowing eyes can be seen malevolently until they too blinked out of existence. Velkir's vision blurred and swirled until the darkness overcame him as well.
********** Another Dimension **********
The battles raged fiercely on some nameless world near the fringes of the galaxy, close to the secluded Eldar craftworld of Alaitoc. Alaitoc drifts on the edge of the galaxy for the Eldar of Alaitoc strictly adhere to the culture known as the Path of the Eldar - that lifestyle which an Eldar will dedicate itself to the pursuit of knowledge in one sphere of life at a time.
Treading carefully through the thickets and high grass on the sloping hill, a tall figure crept quietly several steps ahead of his three companions. Their shifting hooded cloaks and easy grace as well as the strange highly advanced weapons marked them as Eldar.
Path-finders to be precise, from the Craftworld of Alaitoc, sent to delay the advance of the Imperium's elite soldiers, the Space Marines. Not only that but these trespassers dared to bring along with them foul Chaos Space Marines, millennia long traitors to the Imperium of Man.
Halting as the grassland opened up into large roaming plains, the lead Eldar stopped and held his hand up straight to signal the others behind him to stop. Crouching down to the ground, the lead Eldar spoke to his companions who flanked him.
"Our intelligence tells us that the mon keigh's genetically altered Space Marines shall be crossing this area shortly." He said, pronouncing the word space marines with such vehemence. "We are to intercept and destroy...." He trailed off as he heard a faint rustling from behind them. Turning with amazing speed, the four pathfinders leveled their weapons on to the unsuspecting intruder.
Seconds went by but nothing appear until they heard the chik-chik of a shuriken pistol being loaded from behind them. Turning around, weapons aimed at the intruder's head they were surprised to see a brightly clad Eldar standing before them.
They knew a Harlequin, fearsome Eldar troubadour fighters dressed in brightly coloured clothing whose superb acrobatic skills along with ancient artifacts of technology, such as the holosuit and many specialist hand-to-hand weapons, make them exceptionally deadly close combat fighters. Like all Eldar they are elusive foes, preferring to use swiftness and devastating attacks rather than massed armour and brute force.
It wasn't that unusual to meet a Harlequin if you followed the Path of the Outcast as all Rangers and Path-finders do. It was unusual however to be approached by one and especially if that one was dressed in dark morbid colors, nearly armed to the teeth. It could only be.....
"A Solitaire!" Exclaimed one of the younger Pathfinders behind the leader.
The Solitaire ignored him however, fixing his gaze on the leader. He closely examined the Path-finder in front of him, a tall male for an Eldar about 6 feet in height with the ever shifting cameleoline cloak of the Ranger blending in with the surrounding environment. His face was hooded and a face-mask covered the lower half of his face, providing oxygen should he encounter poison gas or harsh environments. A Ranger long rifle was slung over one shoulder and he too was gripping a shuriken pistol, lowered slightly at the sight of the Harlequin but still ready to fire its deadly rounds in an instant.
After several moments he nodded to the leader and asked, "You are Karthanmor?"
Karthanmor shot the Solitaire a hard look before responding.
"I am. Who seeks me?"
The Solitaire took a step forward, placing his right hand over his heart in an open palm fashion. "I am Karhaedron."
*********************
Birds squawked over the open fields below, their farseeing eyes knowing more than what the pathetic technology of the Imperial Guard can tell them. Though normally the lush open plains with few trees to use as cover and only moderately high grass for protection would normally be death for any who would be stupid enough to set camp there, it was the perfect site for the Imperial encampment.
The Imperial Guard's greatest strength is two things: It's heavy artillery combined with their armoured might, and their numbers. It is the the reason why such a defenseless place was chosen, Imperial tanks and artilleries stand by to defend it from every direction.
Inquisitor Abram Zeniks walked through the entrenched Imperial Guard camp, staring at the bustling movement of guardsmen preparing for the Chaos assault. Heavy muscled, jungle fatigued clad men were doing everything from setting up artillery to digging trenches.
Their red headbands and grim demeanors along with the way they carried themselves said that these were highly skilled and deadly fighters. What more can you expect from Imperial Guardsmen from the Death world of Catachan. These among are the strongest, most cunning and deadly soldiers, having grown up on a world where anything and everything can kill you if you aren't careful.
Dressed in a fine white trench coat heavily embroided with grim symbols of death, skulls and of course the Emperor's Eagle along with flak armour underneath, Inquisitor Zeniks walked the grounds with a determined stride. Hard high heeled boots crushed dirt sods beneath his feet and a staff with a skull imbued in a large golden star, which represented purification of humanity, rested on his back.
For an Inquisitor, he was young. Perhaps one of the youngest ever, being only 29 years old but already a member of the secret Ordo Malleus. Plain faced with a long scar running down the left side of his face right by his left eye; he had a cold, composed expression that belied years of intense training. Short brownish yellow hair added to slight chubby cheeks reminded some guardsmen of an eager young boy with too hopeful of dreams.
'Six months!' He screamed in his minds. 'We've been here for six bloody months and still haven't able to destroy the heretics.'
As he walked, Zenik's powersword tapped lightly in a rhythmic motion matching the clock ticking down the time before they would be overwhelmed by the heretical forces of Chaos. Though they are far greater in number than the small of traitor marines from the Iron Warriors legion, they could not hope to fight against such foes who have fought the Imperium of Man for the past 10,000 years.
Inquisitor Zeniks came to a halt in front of a tall, gaunt man dressed in a red uniform with the Imperial Hawk on his right breast and numerous medals for Valour and the like on the left breast of his uniform. Brown pants accompanied the red coat and hanging low on his right hip was a master crafted plasma pistol.
The commissar's lips pursed in humor from regarding Zeniks before speaking. "Our scouts reported that the heretics are advancing on this position. In the name of the Emperor, may he forever guide us, we shall destroy them or die trying. Your Grey Knights shall avenge us should we fall."
'Curse the man.' Zeniks thought. He didn't particularly like the Commissar, there was something about the way he treated the Inquisitor that set off numerous warnings in Zenik's head. 'When the heretics are dead, it won't matter if he does intend to betray the Imperium for the sake of his own men or not.' Zeniks thought coldy.
He knew from the moment he enlisted the aid of the 44th Catachan Regiment that he would eventually have to dispose of them. He had nothing against them it was simply policy of the Ordo Malleus, the Daemon Hunters, that all Imperial Guardsmen who survive the battles against the hordes and daemons of Chaos, after being enlisted to aid the Inquisitors, be killed to prevent the taint of Chaos to spread.
It would be the job of the Grey Knights, the 666 Chapter of Space Marines, to do so and destroy any remnants of the heretics left on this planet.
"Very well then Commissar Gradius, I expect the best from you and your men. My Grey Knights shall be here shortly."
Raising a cross-like pendant that hung around his neck, he kissed the Crux Terminatus and said, "May the Emperor's light shine on us today."
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Warhammer 40k (The Sci-fi Universe) Glossary
Craftworld- Craftworlds are giant ships that travel through space; they are pure Wraithbone at the core and have a device called the Infinity Circuit that is the resting place of Eldar souls after the death of their body. In the core of the Craftworld is the Avatar, the embodiment of the spirit of Khaine, the Eldar god who died fighting the Great Enemy; the Avatar may be awakened with the sacrifice of the Young King, the most powerful Exarch of the Craftworld.
Eldar- The Eldar are an ancient, psychic and technologically advanced race (their spacefaring history predating humanity's by many thousands of year) who ruled the galaxy until a terrible catastrophe overcame them. Their decadence combined with powerful psychic abilities and warp energy caused the birth of a new god. Slannesh, the Great Enemy devoured a large proportion of the Eldar race in one night and continues to take the souls of all Eldar should they die without a Waystone. Although the Eldar were all but destroyed in the Fall, many survive. With the help of expert warriors and an ability to predict the future, gradually the Eldar are bringing together the shattered remnants of their civilization to once again rule the galaxy.
Flip belt- A flip belt is a compact anti-grav device which generates a short range negative-gravity field which, when combined with the Harlequins' already amazing acrobatic abilities, allows them to make all manner of gravity-defying leaps and bounds.
Daemon Hunters (Grey Knights)- Surpassing even their brother Space Marines in skill and ability, the level of expertise that each Grey Knight wields is such that they can exterminate a daemonic infestation that outnumbers them many times over. Armed with psychically charged force weapons, storm bolters and an unshakeable faith in the Emperor, there is little more daunting a foe for a Daemon to face.
God-Emperor of Man- The ruler of the Imperium of Mankind. He is a human with god-like powers and is virtually near immortal. He created the twenty Primarchs, using his own genetic material or geneseed, whose genetic material would be used to create the modern Space Marines. After reuniting the planets of mankind, the Emperor was betrayed by Horus, his most trusted Primarch who had fallen into the clutches of Chaos. Battle raged from planet to planet until ending on Terra (Earth) when Horus and the Emperor fought in single combat. The Emperor prevailed, but it cost him his mortal life. Horus' uprising was against the rightful God Emperor, and will thus be known evermore as the Horus Heresy. The shell of what was the Emperor is kept in a perpetual state of near death by an enormous stasis device called the Golden Throne on Terra. His psychic powers help light the Astronomican, the guiding light of the psychic navigators that guide mankind's ships through the Warp.
Harlequins- The Harlequins are a strange sub-sect of the Eldar race, consisting of warriors drawn from the other kindreds; the Craftworld Eldar, Exodites and Dark Eldar. They follow the only other Eldar god to survive the Cataclysm, the Laughing God. They are also the keepers of the ancient Eldar myths, and perform complex dances and plays to recreate these allegorical tales. The Harlequins are held in a mixture of fear, awe and respect by all other Eldar for their knowledge of the Webway is unmatched and they can appear and disappear almost at will.
Holo-suit- Harlequins do not wear physical armor to absorb blows, instead they rely on a sophisticated holo-suit to misdirect the enemy. A holo-suit also contains a mask which incorporates a holographic generator that projects images monstrous faces and daemonic visages, intensified by a short range pyschic field which increases their opponent's sensitivity to fear and despair.
Imperial Cult- The most widespread and well-established religion throughout the Imperium is the Imperial Cult. It has billions upon billions of followers throughout the Imperium, with representative cult leaders on every planet. The Imperial Cult teaches that the Emperor is the divine representative of the entire human race, who needs the worship of people everywhere to remain strong so that he can protect humanity. This creed is essentially true. The loyalty and determination of all of the Imperium's citizens is an important part of humanity's survival. But the Imperial Cult's teachings are also true in a literal way, because the Emperor does need the spiritual energies which his worshippers create in the warp.
Imperial Guard- The Imperial Guard is the largest and most diverse military organization the galaxy has ever seen. It contains billions of men supported by armored vehicles such as tanks and troop transports. These armored vehicles take the shape of flame throwing assault tanks, long range self propelled artillery guns, and the tried and true Leman Russ Battle Tank. Due to it's vast size, specialized weaponry and armor are rare and reserved for only the elite forces of the Imperial Guard. The standard guardsmen is sent into battle with a trusty lasgun and little more than the shirt on his back. Tactically, an Imperial Guard force uses blunt maneuvers and will rely upon big guns and sheer weight of numbers. Service in the Imperial Guard is rarely a glorious path to tread, nevertheless billions of valiant warriors lay down their lives for the sake of humanity, it's home, and the honor of the Emperor.
Imperium of Man- The Imperium of Man stretches across vast star systems, over billions of worlds. The Imperium is ruled by the God-Emperor but as he is nothing more than a corpse in a stasis field, the High Lords of Terra truly rule. In order to protect Humanity the Imperium is not only cruel and intolerant but xenophobic to other races, usually destroying any alien settlements on planets they wish to colonize, claiming it as "rightfully theirs and the alien heretics had no right to be there." Though the Imperium tries to be good, it's intolerancy and merging of religion as government makes it highly impractical. Those who oppose the Imperium are killed either using the brute force of Space Marines, Imperial Guard or Adeptus Arbites or by an assassin of the Officio Assassinorum.
Inquisitor- Inquisitors are the agents of the Imperium's Inquisition. The Inquisition is an ecclesiastical tribunal for suppression of heresy, Inquisitors are given special powers to do as they wish as they deem fit in order to bring heretics to justice. They are the most fanatical of all the God-Emperor's servants and as such are brutally cruel in their attempts to 'purify' the Imperium of all threats, external and internal. They are armed with the most advanced technology in the Imperium and have been known to command even the dreaded Space Marines as well as their destruction should an Inquisitor deem them unrepentant. Their two main mottos are: "Innocence proves nothing." and "The ends justifies the means."
Ranger Long Rifle- The Ranger long rifle fires something akin to needles, allowing the rifle to carry a much larger ammunition supply per catridge. The long rifle is equipped with a highly sophisticated sights, allowing the firer to locate weak points in an enemy's armour.
Shuriken weapons (IE: Shuriken Pistol, Shuriken Catapult, Shuriken Cannon)- The Eldar are famed for their shuriken weapons. These range in size from the Shuriken pistol to the shuriken cannon and all operate on the same principles. The aummunition is stored as a solid core of plasti-crystal material that is forced up from the magazine by a magnetic repulsor. A series of rapid high-energy impulses originating from the rear of the weapon then moves it forward at an intense speed. These impulses detach a monomolecular slice of the ammunition core and hurl it from the weapon's barrel, while the ammunition core is kept in the line of firing impulse by the magnetic repulsor. This allows the weapon to fire up to a hundred rounds of ammunition in a burst of one or two seconds, and each ammunition core is good for atleast ten bursts of fire before it needs replacing.
Space Marine- Space Marines are the most powerful and dreaded of all the human warriors in the Warhammer 40k universe. They are not Human at all but superhuman, having been made superior, in all respects, to a normal man by a harsh regime of genetic modification, psycho-conditioning and rigourous training. Being few in number compared to the uncounted billions of Humanity, Space Marines are organised into small independent armies called Chapters. Each Chapter is responsible for its own recruitment, training, equipment, organisation and strategy. Their unswerving loyalty is to the Emperor of Mankind and no other.
Webway- A system of warp tunnels spread throughout the 40k universe.