The Hypocrifa of War

The Begining

A Calm Breeze over took that battle fields of Armageddon. The quiet of war was louder then the battles that were fought just hours before. A silver knight was martyred and the Red Angel of Khorne was sundered. For a thousand years and a day Angron would plague the worlds of man no more.


The Great Wolf pulled his forces back for he knew of the inevitable outcome was at hand. Many a young men died on bloody shores and the tally was high. There would be a great cleansing but not before chaos butchered their own for a score.


Berzekers wandered the battle fields looking for purpose and none so fare had been found. With out the deamonic charisma of Angron World Eater war bands fragmented as they foundered in vain assaults. No coherent offensive could be mounted with such a grievous blow struck, and last of the deamon legions that made it through the equatorial forest vanished in the wake of his demise.


This battle was over and the legions of Khorne began to with draw from the world in a fighting retreat. Shrines we constructed and atrocities were committed as berzerkers began to slaughter their own mortal followers, in madness and rage. Drop Zones were sanctified and Dread claws made planet fall through burning contested sky's.


********


As night steeled that fateful day that the deamon primarch Angron fell, an unknown Champion Legionnaire lead a squad of World Eaters through no-mans land to the rent mortal shell of Angron. He tore down his own banner and covered his fallen primarch. He knelled and began a meditative prayer to Khorne and his men did like wise. That night more sated World Eaters would come, paying their respects to fallen body of the Primarch.


By dawn the air hissed with great heat and cloth began to smolder at the site of the fallen one. Hundreds of World Eaters were in supplication, none wanting to be the first to move. All Legionaries waited for a sign as they communed with there god. The conditions were becoming intolerable even for the ten thousand year old battle plate that housed the chaos marines.


Slowly and armored gauntlet began to move as it reached for the banner turned shroud. One span and the fabric would be in a armoured grip. The shroud was soaked in the blood of the Red Angles and one could only imagine what power that could be gained from such an icon of War. Inching ever closer the symbol of the fallen lord would be clammed. Dark pried filled the heart and eased a condemned soul.


Rage filled the heart of the champion who had torn down his own banner. To witnessed this most bass act of arrogance was more then his pride could suffer. He stood silent and as he witnessed the crimson armored thief now at his knees. Standing sentinel he looked down at the  kneeling forms of his brothers, he knew his loyal squad would be with him on the action he was about to take. Time slowed as he looked at the out stretched arm beneath him. “Only in Blood shall you touch such a sacred symbol,” the champion declared!


With a booming baritone the silence was shattered like the force of a cannon. The champion reached down and grabbed the wrist of the thief. Rage possessed, the champion as a weapon worthy of a god struck like thunder severing the limb at shoulder from the rest of the body. Quickly with the served arm the champion backhanded the thief reeling him back and off his knees.


Sprawled out the thief reached up to stay the hand of the champion. He began to dictate a pledge of loyalty knowing he was at the mercy of a greater lord. Disgusted the champion brought his blade down splitting the out stretched limb from palm to elbow. In a rapid succession he buried his blade in the collar of his now hated foe. Ripping the blade free the champion could see his work was only half done.With a quick over hand thrust be brought his blade down and pierced the armored garrote of the foe at his knees. As the length of the blade penetrated the torso, corrupted organs ruptured and burst. This was not a brutal kill, but the thief was beneath such honors of a clean warrior’s death. 

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THROWN! LET THE RED RIVER FLOW!” were just a few or war cries yield as berzerkers and World Eaters now on their feet surging forward like blood drunk hounds. The sign was given and the bloodletting ensued. Khorne looked down on the stricken world and was pleased as he was given his final due.
The Champions squad fought back to back with the shroud at their center. All within a span were cut down like diseased dogs as the frenzy ensued. Knowing his place one of the squad with pole in had fastened the shroud in place and hoisted the holy icon high.
“Those of you with dark honor and pride”, demanded the champion, ”stand with me now and sewer loyalty on the holy shroud that is soak in the blood of our Primarch and high lord!”  
Those within earshot or lucid enough to comprehend what was said shouted back pledges and oaths to the one that demanded their supplication. A Calderon began to form around the shroud and the champion by those he rallied. Slowly they began to break out and with every step gained momentum. 
The battle was beginning to take form as others rallied to their own jealous causes. Lines were drawn in the blood soaked ash, and they were broken by the champion and his newly formed host. Those who dared stand in his path were butchered and their bodies plundered by individual winners of frenzied duels.
What was left of the mortal shell of Angron was ripped to pieces and scattered to the four winds by lone berzerkers and war bands. In the end the only thing that marked the fall of the mighty deamon primarch was blood soaked creator of an unidentifiable nature. Those that left the planet of Armageddon did so, and those that could not were cut down by wolves on the hunt.


Exodus

"I was there in that hour when Lord Hannron demanded tribute from those that rallied to his cause, and we loved him for it!"

Killion Vauk at the Exodus of Armageddon

It was in the burning shadow of the space hulk known as the Devourer of Stars that a large chaos battle group broke anchor and made for the systems jump point. The Imperial battle groups attempted to blockage the jump point but this was a fruitless endeavor. Horribly out of position and laking the heart to engage in a capital void battle on a second front, with a vast space hulk in high orbit around the burning planet of Armageddon was more then enough to persuade Imperial Captains to do what damage they could but then disengage when their operation distance was at its limit.

It was said the Great Wolf was not pleased when he learned that the Imperial Captains did not have the heart to press their advantage and at least delay the chaos battle group long enough to allow the Space Wolf captial ship to engage the chaos war ships. This was even more harder to to take when he had learned that a number of the battle group had been trader astartes.


*******

Lord Hannron sate on his command thrown on the bridge of the Skull Thrown and was livid. the thought of fleeing the field of battle gauld him. But what choice did he have. To die with out cause was a sin in his lords eyes, when there was still so much blood to let in Khornes name.

A atonement would have to be made and soon, to sate the thirsty apatite of his god. An example would have to be made, for the others to fallow. Surely there had be on who was found wanting, one that had sinned in Khornes eyes, and that could be put to death for that most devious of actions.

As Lord Hannron servade the rage tag battle group his answer was found rather quickly. The Skull Thrown was one of two battle barges that had fled the Armageddon system. This other barge of a classification and a name the Lord Harron was aware of had been severely damaged, and most of that damage had been to the rear. "Only a coward would suffer such damage in the face of a hated for. Only the weak would let the space fairing living embodiment of their god fall into such a state, as this barge had. Who ever was the champion of the ancient vessel, clearly does not deserve such a chariot to command across the void.





********

"Champions come!" Dimanded Lord Hannron as he found a new symbol of hatred with striking distance.

Warly the body guard champions in cased in heavy terminator plate step forward as if excepting the judgment of their exalted lord.

"That ruin of a barge just off our Stern has sinned!" Declared Lord Hannron. "It has sinned against our God, and for that I can not suffer it to live!"

Robustly the body guard champions grumbled acknowledgements and curses on the already dammed crew of the stricken bargd.

"I do not know their names, nor do I wish to. I have been given a vision from our God, and he has told me that their blood must flow, and I attend to make that happen."

Immediately the body guard champions demanded the right to launch the first assault on the stricken bargd and carry out the justice of their high lord.

Pleased at their bravado, lord Hannron spoke once again. "But for our part, honor must be restored for we all have been transgressed against.

Weapons primed and chain blades howled as the body guard champions demanded the order to depart now and lay siege to the wounded barge. "Unleash your hounds now Lord, and let us slaughter in your name! Blood for the Blood god!

I shall my champions, but first you must swearer on this holy icon, this shroud that covered our primarch, swearer now a oath of moment that you will lay siege to the Brigid and bring the head of the sinner to me! do this now or find your life forfeit, for your blood to is welcome.

The strongest came forward first fallowed by the next. They all swore to the shroud that their lords work would be done.

"My Lord!" spoke Lord Valderon, first among the Body Guard Champions, "What of the rest of the barge, is it not worth for us to clam in your name no.

"It is my first champions," stated Lord Hannron, "but the others war bands unonge us have been wronged as well. They to  have honor that must be avenged. for them they shall purge that vessel from stem to stern. Their honor must be redeemed in the eyes of khorne as well. They must mix their blood with oures as the weak are purged from my site".

Approvingly the body guard champions approved of this line of reasoning, though just bardly grasping what had been said as their collective blood lust began to drown out the last vestiges of coherent thought.

"One last thing thing before you march in my name. Champion Valdon step forward".

As champion valdor step forward clarity slowly broke through the storm of blood that was his mind. A dark focus took hold as he looked at the out streached shroud icon before him. The icon was stained red in the blood of his fallen primarch. brass mail and crimson armoured plates that had been the aegis of angrong now hung from the top of a brass crossmember.

"You swore a oath of moment on this icon soaked in the blood of the father. You will carry this standard in battle always at the front so those behind you will also remember what has transpired here in my presence and in the sight of our god. Go now and do what I have demanded. Blood for the Blood God!"

With a steady hand Valron took the icon and slammed its haft into the brass decking of the bridge. "This god standard shall not fall as long as I draw breath! Skulls for the Skull Thrown."

By twos and eight deep with the shroud of Angron at the lead the body guard champions marched from the bridge on a holy pilgrimage of war. The telaportation platforms would be their chariot into the presence of an unsuspecting lord.


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