#khur

[inatungulates]

Indian wild ass Equus hemionus khur

Observed by kalyanvarma, CC BY

[keanumancrush]

Keanu & Stunt double, Mack Khur.

[demonstars]

Anyway aside from working on the skephalo fics on my notes app I've been toying with this klapollo fic about dating people you work with I think the possibilities are fucking endless and they're my babies forever Like I think they're so fucking fascinating

[unityrain24]

ok i want to hear what a morin khuur + erhu duet would sound like and i'd also like to hear what a morin khuur + talharpa duet would sound like

[ammonitetestpatterns]

[tonyglowheart]

okay I tried spraying some rubbing alcohol on the mini after applying superglue and I THINK it's working? At least, working better than the last attempt lol. But I don't super want to test the bond yet in case it IS working but needs time to set. so ig I'll check later

I'm not 100% happy with the scale since I think it looks a bit.... delicate & petite next to a Reaper mini, but I think it's bc the proportions are more "realistic" vs like stylized/exaggerated..

I mean, it's fine. Trying to convince myself now I don't need to buy a new one at 32mm scale lmao

Anyway here's the mini (left)

I think height-wise they're the same but the scale of the head is clearly different and I think it makes the mini feel "smaller." But then 32mm scale might be just a bit tooo big...? idk, wish I could see a side by side lol

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

His Star

Summary: After the Monarchy, the Emperor takes Lorgar's wife as punishment. Lorgar is soon reunited with his love, but learns that his daughter will remain on Terra.

Lorgar/fem!Reader, Emperor and Lorgar's daughter (OC, platonic)

Warnings: angst, kidnapping

Word count: 753

Song: Siouxsie And The Banshees - Cities In Dust

This fic was born because of this beautiful post.

She was beautiful. Like the morning dawn or a starry night. A bright soul who came into this cruel world. She could lead the masses, inspire billions of people. But Lorgar wanted only one thing. Protect her with his own life.

He didn't see his daughter. The news of her birth came from the Imperial Palace along with other unimportant ones. As if she were an insignificant speck of dust. But the daughter of a primarch, his daughter was priceless. Happiness that was born because of the pure and immaculate love of two souls.

Lorgar could only follow the Emperor's orders in the hope of seeing you and his daughter. Hug and hold the tiny body to his hearts. Press his lips to yours. Feel the serene love you showed him.

The Primarch of the Word Bearers was never a warrior. Never been a commander. He was a preacher, priest, shepherd. He never hid it, openly carrying his true and blessed faith in the God Emperor... but in the end, apparently not so true.

His sons, himself, continued to search for answers to questions. Find their way. Their faith. The Emperor refused their worship, destroyed the perfect city, took you, took the unborn child. Lorgar could not hate his father, but it was difficult to extinguish the black flame of resentment and misunderstanding.

At least until the day you were returned.

Crying and tired. You were not tortured, you were not offended. Physically and mentally you were fine. But there was a huge void in your heart that could not be filled. Even Lorgar was unable to help you, because he, being a primarch, almost fell himself.

They returned you alone.

Lorgar hoped that the Emperor simply decided to gradually return his favor to his son. He hoped that after some time, when he had conquered even more systems, the Father would return his daughter. But he was wrong. You dashed all his hopes.

“He loves her, he adores her,” you burst into tears at Lorgar’s shoulder. - “I almost d-didn’t see her. He is with her all the time. Doesn't let go of himself. H-he, he sang to her. He sang to her, Lorgar! Songs in ancient languages. He acted as if she were his daughter and not his granddaughter. He gave her a name!”

It would be better if the Emperor burned Khur to the ground. It would be better if he destroyed every city to the dust that Lorgar built. The primarch is ashamed of such thoughts; mortals are not to blame for anything. But why, why should his daughter be torn away from her parents and live with a tyrant?

A tyrant... that's what the Emperor was. False God. If the primarch had doubts before, he is now firmly convinced of it. The son loved the Father too much, although he did not deserve such worship. He did not deserve the devotion of the primarchs. Didn't deserve the love of a little girl.

You spend days and nights in bed. When you don't sleep, you cry. Lorgar is not angry, no. He is delighted. The connection between mother and daughter, passing through years and centuries. You can't find a place for yourself until you see your child. Which means Lorgar must bind you together. Bring back your beloved child.

The primarch will not hear her first word, will not see her first steps. He will not be the main person in her life. Perhaps they will meet when she is an adult. He will never be her father in the full sense of the word. But this knowledge does not stop Lorgar.

He will still meet her. He will take her hand and lead her to a new world free from the power of the Emperor, who separated her from her real family. He would show her the True God that he had yet to find. His daughter will be a guiding star, illuminating the path through a dark galaxy. Until he finds a way to get back to her.

Lorgar has never seen her, but he knows that she is beautiful. Like the golden sand in Colchis, a light breeze or the murmur of water. She is far away in captivity of the Golden Palace, but even so the primarch feels her. She shines brighter than anyone in the world. Without realizing it, she is waiting for her real father to return his daughter. He will protect her. At the cost of his own life.

And the whole world.

[skinnedbutalive]

Che'Moer and his (dead) wife Aniha. Strange as it sounds, the theme of love is central to Che'Moer's backstory and character.

He met Aniha on Khur and, without going into details, secretly created a family with her, even raising her son - Valar - as his own. The Word Bearers eventually uncovered this relationship and greatly disapproved of Che'Moer's actions, but his transgression was quickly forgotten when The Emperor ordered to burn Monarchia to ashes, killing both of his family members in the progress.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Intake Form

Author's note: this is the first part of Lykos' backstory in the Husbandry AU! I hope you enjoy it. Next

Tagged:

Warnings: none, please ask me to tag something if it bothers you/I missed it

Summary: Lykos reports to a nearby base. He's given an intake form and has questions because of what he's asked about.

“I was told this is one of the nearby Astartes bases that accept Astartes from several different legions, rather than hosting a single legion?” Lykos stated, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked down at the startled mortal sitting behind the welcome desk at the base that he had presented himself at. 

He had found himself upon this strange world a handful of days ago, and had wandered until he found civilization. The chaplain was glad that he had been suddenly transported upon this world in his usual all-black armor and cape as he would have found the abrupt transition more distressing were he without his armor and weapons. Not that he had yet to need either, but like most Astartes, Lykos spent more time inside his armor after he had earned it, than outside of it.

“I… Yes, that’s correct. We have. We have an intake form for you to fill out, if you don’t mind…?” The baseline mortal explained, handing over an astartes sized, thin block of wood with… Was that real paper upon it? Fascinating! He had seen the forest full of trees on the outskirts of the city, but Lykos had no idea that the supply of wood was in such abundance to use paper. They also handed him a writing implement as well. 

“I will fill this out, thank you.” He murmured, smiling a little at the mortal. He’d removed his helmet upon entry to the base, having clipped it to his belt, to appear slightly more friendly. The skull mask of a chaplain’s helmet was meant to be intimidating, but he was not angling for being terrifying at the moment. Lykos could see the tell-tale signs of this base being inhabited by Ultramarines, so the luxury of paper wasn’t that much of a surprise to the chaplain. He walked over to one of the astartes-sized seats and felt himself sink into the very comfortable seats, leaning back a little as he diligently answered the questions. He briefly thumbed through the packet of paper he’d been given, before starting to read through the first question.

What is your name, rank, and Legion/chapter/war-band association? … Lykos was curious as to what was meant by chapter and war band, but he would refrain from asking until he completed this bit of paperwork. Chaplain Lykos Sirak, Word Bearers Third Company.

Time, date and location previous to arriving in this world? … The implication being that it was a common enough occurrence for Astartes to be randomly arriving on this world without being sent here deliberately was a fascinating one.  18:33, M031.876 Monarchia, Khur. Khur had been brought into compliance almost sixty years ago, and he had been helping to develop Monarchia into the place of beauty and worship that his gene-father had hoped it would become. 

Lykos went to read the next question. There was a preface written before it. If you have heard of the Drop Site Massacre, or the Battle of Isstvan three, please read and answer the next five questions to the best of your abilities. If you have not, skip to question 8.

He had heard of the world Isstvan three, but only in passing. It was a world that was either in the process of being integrated into the Imperium, or recently had been. The chaplain mentally shrugged and dutifully skipped down to question eight.

Have you noticed any unusual changes in your superior officers and/or Primarch in the past few days/weeks/months or years? If so, can you pinpoint when they started to change, and list possible triggers for them to have started to act differently than they had previously. The answer to this question is confidential and will not be discussed with others unless you indicate a desire to do so in person. Please be as specific as possible.

Well… That was an ominous question. Lykos closed his eyes for several moments, going into a meditative state as he genuinely considered the question asked of him. He had been serving the Word Bearer’s legion for two hundred years as a chaplain, and a hundred and fifty before his promotion into the roll that had been created by his Primarch, as a way to minister to the spiritual and emotional needs of his sons, along with a way to encourage the compliance of new worlds into the Imperium with the potential of not having to fire a single shot. Yes, this sort of compliance was slower than the violence-forward methods that other Legions employed, but the citizens seemed to be grateful to not be trampled to death by the ceramite boots of their new rulers.

Lykos wrote down the truth as he knew it. As far as he was aware, his superior officers had been not been acting strangely. Lykos did not have the honor of interacting directly with his Primarch, and thus, could not say if the Imperial Son was acting strangely, and wrote that down. He then focused on the next question. 

What are the dominant belief/faith or faiths of your legion/chapter/warband? Do you hold these beliefs, or do they differ? If they do differ, please explain the differences between the two. 

Lykos hesitated to answer that, keenly aware that most legions would be unhappy to hear that they openly worshiped the Emperor of Mankind as a god, given the Imperial Truth that they were all supposed to espouse the Imperial Truth… But he had been honest on this form so far, and to lie now felt… Disingenuous. Besides, there was enough room on the paper to fully explain the reasoning behind why he and so many of his fellow Word Bearers believed in the divinity of The Emperor, which Lykos used.

What do you know of Chaos?

The… The theological concept? The inherent randomness of the universe? Lykos was baffled and wrote down what he knew about the concepts of chaos. Considering the amount of room to answer that question with, there was far, far more to the question of chaos than the chaplain knew. Ah well, if it was something he needed to know on this world, Lykos was fairly sure that someone would explain.

Are you a psyker? Nope. He had no psychic ability, though there were some in his legion gifted  with such abilities. 

Have you dabbled in sorcerous arts, or consider yourself to be a sorcerer or warlock? If so, please list the major abilities you possess and the contracts you have entered into. … Well that was blunt and pointed. Again, no, Lykos hadn’t and wrote as much. 

The next several questions were asking about the kinds of missions that he had completed, his medical history including any prosthetics, distinctive markings/tattoos/scars he may have, and a request to list all of the weapons and the kind of armor he was in possession of. Questions about battles that he had participated in, honors won and lost. Lykos dutifully answered each and every question to the best of his abilities, pausing every so often to stretch out his writing wrist and fingers before continuing until he had written out his full history as he knew it. 

Do you have any rivals/enemies among your fellow astartes? Lykos suppressed a chuckle. Some of the more passionate and stubborn of his Brothers had found Eternal Rivals and Bitter Enemies amongst both their brothers and other legions. But as far as he knew, Lykos had no enemies like that. Or at least, he didn’t consider any astartes an enemy or rival in such a way, and wrote that down.

The next few questions were about which legions or chapters (whatever a chapter was) he would prefer to interact with, those he’d rather avoid if possible, and other sorts of preferences and dislike questions, which he answered with mild amusement and confusion. He would work with whoever he was assigned to do so, regardless as to whether or not he liked them interpersonally. Part of a chaplain’s training was to ensure that one could separate their own emotions and put them on hold while dealing with whatever situation or emergency was going on… More so than most other kinds of Astartes. 

Those questions were also the final questions that he was supposed to answer on the form as while there were other questions, the qualifying statements that stated whether or not he was to answer of them did not apply to him. For which Lykos was grateful, as he had spent a couple of hours writing down all of these answers. He suppressed a yawn as he got up and stretched before walking over to the mortal who’d given him this form. He smiled politely at them and said “Here you go. I have answered all of the questions that I am supposed to on this form. I have questions about some of the questions on this form.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I probably can’t explain most if not all of your questions, but I can offer you several brochures that have been created for Astartes who’ve recently arrived on Earth… Or as Astartes call our world, Terra.” The baseline answered, taking the form, board and pen from Lykos, casually dropping an inexplicable information bomb on poor Lykos who hadn’t been expecting that.

“T-Terra? I’m… I’m on Terra? But-” Lykos spluttered, about to point out that there hadn’t been this much plant life on Terra in millenia. 

The baseline raised a hand before saying “Before you tell me something you’re probably not supposed to, I would strongly recommend that you read these brochures. One of the Astartes practiced in helping Astartes new to Earth settle in will be by soon. In the meantime feel free to wander around the lobby and other publicly marked rooms of the base. Any door that is locked is not meant to be entered unless you have the key for it.��

“I… Alright. I’ll… I’ll read through these.” Lykos murmured, internally reeling still as he took the offered information pamphlets. They were astartes sized and also made out of yet more paper. He settled down into another astartes-sized chair and began to read the first brochure. It was titled “Welcome to Terra, Loyalist.”

[taanoir]

Time for a Challenge Check in!

The challenge is beginning it's final throws. In terms of in game years, we are in the future, the 2030's. There will be some future tech on the horizon but for now it really just looks a lot like our current era.

Gen 9 - Modern Age - Complete

Max Programing, Video Games, Mixology - All maxed by Nicole and Jennifer

Hack all available options - Completed by both Nicole and Jennifer

Have a sim play Video Games on the computer from the time they get up until they go to bed. - Completed by Nicole

Have 2 Sims reach the top of their career and complete their aspiration (bonus if it's 4 sims). (1) Nicole - Tech Guru and Computer Wiz, (2) Tiffany - Writer and Prolific Writer Aspiration, (3) Jennifer Computer Engineer and Nerd Brain, (4) Josh Astronaut and Wealthy

Meet your ancestors, bonus if you become friends with them. Nicole became friends with Calisto and Khur.

Gen 10 - Future Tech - In Progress

Max Skills - Robotics, Comedy & Writing - Melody is at levels 4 & 6 for comedy and writing

Complete 5 aspirations between all sims. Melody is in process on the writing aspiration.

Challenge Wide:

50 Gold medal events - Complete

Completed 20+ aspirations, 15 careers, and 30 skills

All potions and traits have been purchased - Complete

Graves/Urns for all family members Gen 9 & 10 left

Portraits for all generations - Generation 10 left

I've also maxed the finances in the game, $9,999,999. After multiple large purchases including a basement section full of the most expensive items I could place, I'm still maxed.

The kids have been BUSY! Melody entered her teen years with a big boost to her skills.

I earned an achievement I didn't realize was a thing.

After a freak out over the mandatory update, I've just been casually strolling through the final generation.

[foolscr0w]

i dont draw him enough because. his hair is hard to draw, but!!! was in a sketchy doodle mood

my dark apostle oc, eligos, herald of the 39th grand warhost, the gospel of unmaking. lore scraps below the cut :3

he was born on khur to a well-off family a bit after its compliance, and had only just become a full battle brother a few years before the razing of monarchia and the legion’s censure by big e. this. obviously caused Problems psychologically— he loses his whole family, his home, and his faith all at once and it is violent.

thus, his fall to chaos is almost unsurprising. he takes to it quickly, and takes to it well— the gods decide everything, there is no such thing as free will. if they will it, then it must be done. who is he to doubt true divinity?

he becomes the first acolyte to sarabdal of the 18th host, and later is granted permit to claim the 39th for himself.

in many ways, his captains coddle him— some mix of pity and loyalty. eligos has never lacked for what he wants and it has made him spoiled and petulant in many ways. he doesn’t know how or when to stop, and he never will. he rarely is truly alone, when cultists practically kiss the ground he walks on and so eagerly throw themselves upon the alter if he holds the knife.

[heavenlyhoundoom]

D khur'v vhfuhw.

Rqh ri wkh khurhv lvq'w zkr wkhb vdb wkhb duh. Wkhb kdyh udq dzdb iurp wkhlu rog olih, dqg kdv ehfrph d khur wr wub dqg hvfdsh lw. Wklv lv doo ri wkh lqirupdwlrq L fdq jlyh brx. Jrrgebh....

(Are you able to crack the cipher?)

[ebenizr]

This is Azrem's style sheet! (The artwork is not mine, and is all pulled from Pinterest or other online sources.)

Azrem covers her face, hair, and skin in public partially for religious reasons in the dnd world, and her fashion is definitely due to some of the amazing niqabs and hijabs I have seen. Being from Khur, a desert country, it's also very practical for her to wear multiple light layers of fabric and covering all her skin from the elements. She does have a prosthetic arm that she sometimes ornaments for special occasions. She just as often foregoes the prosthetic altogether though.

She has two distinct styles. One is mostly practical, though she still has a penchant for finer versions of practical things. She's a knight and a blacksmith, so flashy isn't really helpful there. The other is much more ornamental and traditional which she brings out on special occasions that call for it.

(I learned so much going down a researching rabbit hole to pay homage to some of the real world cultural inspirations for Khur in DnD's Dragonlance. The two accessories are real world items. The gold bull is from ancient Persia, and the face covering is, as far as I am aware, a wedding outfit for a Bedouin woman.

Saying that, I want to be clear that Azrem is a fictional character in a fictional world, and that that in making this I mean absolutely no disrespect to the cultural significance of these references. Each comes with its own history and significance. This is my own exercise in learning about and appreciating cultural fashions that are different from my own. If I've made a mistake, please don't hesitate to let me know.)

I absolutely loved making these, and definitely want to make ones for other OC's!

And here's the original template!

Thanks to @napo-leo-art for the original 🧡

[zedecksiew]

Three Clerks

Last week I tweaked my back. It hurt. A lot. As I recovered, I found that sketching with pen and pencil was less strenuous than writing on keyboard. So that's what I did.

Sketched characters from an adventure I am currently writing for Colin Le Sueur's We Deal In Lead. It began as a homage to Wisit Sasanatieng's tomyamgong western Fa Thalai Chon / Tears Of The Black Tiger.

+++

SHIN SUL SHAP, SHRINE CLERK 4 Grit 10 STR 10 DEX 10 HRT Switch (d4)

Face hidden by a broad-brimmed bonnet and veil. Patrols the lines of pilgrims; like a schoolmarm she thwacks anybody chit-chatting. Piety should be silent!

A waif snatches a lead token from her pouch, and bolts. A chase ensues. He begs your help. If Sul Shap finds him, she will sell him to captive takers.

+

Sul Shap is a clerk at the Shrine To The Headless Sun: a bare plaza; a marble pavilion; a golden man, with an ever-burning flame where his head should be.

The Headless Sun is patron saint of the Admiralty, whose laws now govern both Ocean and Sea. He was its founder. The kings of old captured and beheaded him. He overthrew them anyway.

+++

References for Sul Shap were basically Buddhist nun robes (mainly for the volume of fabric), plus an European bonnet.

Initially I'd imagined a conventional broad-brim hat---ie: her veil would be a cylinder around her whole head. But as I sketched I thought the bonnet made a more interesting shape? Also its rear was an opportunity to create a crest / halo of sun-rays. Religious iconography!

Alms bowl, because giving is a virtue. But the Headless Sun values ego-death, not asceticism---so colourful beads and gold amulets and pouches full of lead tokens (money).

+++

RIS SHAY NAM, RECORDS CLERK 2 Grit 10 STR 10 DEX 10 HRT Swung typewriter (d4)

In a wheelbarrow, pulled by a servitor, typewriter balanced on her belly, pockets filled with banana fritters. Greasy fingerprints on any document she works on.

Shay Nam thinks herself a moral soul. Will side with abolitionists and revolutionaries, with justice—until her own skin is at risk.

+

Shay Nam works at the Hibiscus Court. Princess Khur San, distancing herself from the old order, surrendered this palace to bureaucrats.

Clerks have filled its once-airy halls with shelves. By sympathetic sorcery, all contracts in the province manifest copies here. Rumour has it that this magic works both ways.

+++

This was my first sketch. In pain and bored I just started drawing.

No references, and it shows? Skirt and stockings and boots because these were the easiest for me to do. In my mind Shay Nam was an archetypal overweight NEET. Here she looks to be a sassy layabout. I like her better, now!

Also: a servitor is an empty body. Created when you ritually touch a shrine-stone to the Headless Sun---your soul is obliterated. What is left behind is mindless, hence the harness and reins.

+++

KHAN YUL MIN, COURT CLERK 4 Grit 1 DEF 10 STR 10 DEX 10 HRT Sabre (d8)

A university grad and former marine. But his townhouse sits below Rose Hill, on Merchant’s Row, beneath the old families' notice.

Yul Min means to change this. He has his eye on the Widow Gon. He will hire ruffians to waylay her palanquin—then swoop in, to rescue her. Elaborate theatre.

+++

Yul Min, like all these characters, live on the Sea of Sorrows, whose waters are literally the souls of the dead.

Roses always bleach within sight of it; to retain their colour they must be shipped in glass, then kept in arboreta—never once sharing air with the Sea.

Those who can afford red-rose gardens tend them on the south end of the city, where streets begin to climb Mount Go, in compounds walled like fortresses.

+++

Drew Yul Min last night. Had tabs open for "Thai traditional clothing" & "military uniforms 18th century" & "krabi" & "Vajiralongkorn".

Given my inspiration, I think the referencing of Mainland Southeast Asian material culture is appropriate. Maybe a little to obvious, though? Ie: the visual forms haven't been composted well, into new and more imaginative shapes ...

Still: very pleased with the proportions and details.

I liked how the hamsa-esque icon of the Headless Sun developed over the course of these sketches. I would not have discovered it, otherwise; it's one of those details, too small for words.

Drawing is an intrinsic part of the writing process, I guess!

+++

[bijoumikhawal]

Common elements of Hebitian clothing aside from "draped clothing"

Kilts/Sarongs: a length of fabric, sometimes patterned or decorated with trim, wrapped around the waist and often secured in place with the aid of a belt. The densest pleating is in the center front and center back of the body to facilitate movement.

Aprons: an evolution of the kilt. Distinguished by the fact that it is a post Union garment, usually worn over an already "complete" outfit. Some of these might be near indistinguishable from a kilt sewn to a waistband, and others might be very scant. Commonly they are made of layered fabrics, with fringes, beading, etc, to an even greater extent than the preceeding garment.

Belts: the most notable belts worn by Hebitians are large sashes, tucked and folded around the waist in specific patterns sometimes still worn today. Smaller "accessory belts" used as decoration or to aid in wearing kilts were also common. The innermost of these small belts, worn next to the skin, were sometimes given as love tokens.

Leggings: many Hebitians, like Cardassians, considered covering the femoral pores essential for hygiene and keeping other clothes clean. For Hebitians however, the leggings are made most commonly of sprang and are very tight fitting. Some fairly uncommon examples of shirts and bodysuits were also made of sprang and used by divers for colder waters. Leggings often were two separate legs with nothing in the middle to make relieving oneself easier.

Notable items from subdivisions of Hebitians: the Thav, Khur, Åv, and Vaq, being mountain and highland dwellers, each had a distinctive cloak. The Thav had one that fully covered the body except the face, with no center opening- though occasionally had slits for the hands to poke out. Another distinctive feature of the Thav's clothing was a large, round ornament worn on the center front of the belt (metal for women, wood for men) granted when one came of age. The Khur's cloak was very full fabric, gathered or pleated down to two bands; one for tying around the neck and one for tying around the waist. An evolution of this is still worn today, being a cloak fastening at the neck and upper chest with a second cape over it. The Åv wear what is more accurately a cassock, or a poncho with slits for the arms and at the front; these can be closed for rainy weather. The Vaq have a cloak that's a midpoint between the Thav and Åv styles.

The Qåmtsu, having been throughly influenced by Cardassians before any conquest, wore blouses and other upper body garments with more frequency than many other groups. These often had a distinctive type of shawl collar.

[someginger05]

Traitor (A Warhammer 40k Fan Story)

Traitor will be a three part story taking place in the Warhammer Sci Fi universe. This story follows a slightly different history from what we know from the 30,000 millennium with new horrors, new monsters and new traitors. There is no one who can be trusted as of this time. The most vital resource in this period is the truth.

Part 1: From The Skies

The Imperium had seen a golden age for centuries when the legendary primarchs and their space marine legions brought the Galaxy to heel under the banner of the Emperor himself. Colchis was the home to the Word Bearers legion and their Primarch Lorgar Aurelian. The world was covered in sprawling dunes and great spires of worship to who they believed was the God Emperor of Mankind. Lorgar and his legion had been looked down upon by many for their zealotry but their effectiveness in securing loyal and efficient worlds could not be understated. Although Colchis was their home world, the true land of the Word Bearers and the Imperial Truth was on Khur, especially within the city of Monarchia. Monarchia was a city of spires that pierced the void itself and eternally loyal citizens to the Emperor as the cathedrals and temples across the world enforced their belief. Monarchia was a city beyond the simple favour of zealots however as although the Emperor himself could never set foot in the land, his sons did so and acted with awe and joy. Even the Primarchs who sought perfection and scrutinised anything but, saw the city as an example for the rest of the Imperium, even if the dogma was undesirable. 

In recent times the western Galaxy had fallen under a shadow of failed communications and thus word travelled slowly with even the greatest minds in the Mechanicus being unable to find the source of the disruption. Despite this no one in the west were fearful or confused as the Word Bearers prevented any invasion from beyond their borders. This day was a good one on Colchis, the air was not as dry as it would normally be which meant that soon rain would fall which was a celebrated affair on Colchis as they could collect water without relying on the outer Imperium. Lorgar was in his greatest Cathedral built atop his old home continuing to write and plan alongside his apostles and commanders such as his own adoptive father Kor Phaeron and Erebus. Suddenly from the cloudy skies descended a colossal ship bearing the symbols of the 13th legion. 

From the ship emerged Chapter Master Marius Gage on behalf of his primarch Roboute Guilliman. The golden rim of his armour shone like stars in the eyes of the people with his deep blue armour reminding them of the skies above. He laughed and embraced Argel Tal who had been sent to meet with him. The two goliaths then marched back to the great Cathedral. The Ultramarines followed their Chapter Master, they never removed their helmets or spoke but simply moved forward while the Word Bearers, their heads bare, looked upon their brothers with unease. The Ultramarines and Word Bearers had no animosity and yet the Ultramarines treated the Word Bearers, not as cousins but as just other soldiers. The matter was serious, they could tell instantly after as the Ultramarines, usually in armour that exuded perfection and glory now, were chipped and damaged by an unseen war.  

After some time, the signals were given, the Word Bearers were rallied with the reserves donning their armour and moving swiftly. More of the 13th arrived as citizens were moved to shelters and told to remain far from the planetary defences. On one of these ships, we see Captain Marakos Arasian lead his company into organising from their deployment. He is approached by his Word Bearer companion Zar Kadal, a Captain. 

“Cousin! How have you been? I have not seen you since the days of the northern campaign and when we faced down the Xenos at Hellion!” Kadal expressed; his arms open for a kindly embrace. Marakos was the first of the 13th to remove his helm as a gracious smile came over his strained face, “I have been well Kadal! However, times have not been kind to the Imperium! We shall see it outdone though; we always do!” Marakos exclaimed as they embraced their arms. Kadal requested a walk and Marakos indulged him. Marakos and Kadal handed their lieutenants their written orders and they moved with vigour.  

The two Captains walked along the battlements laughing of ages past. Then the air cooled, and the breeze halted, “Why are you here Marakos? Not just you but the 13th? We have had no word of what is occurring and yet we appear to prepare for the end of days” Kadal inquired as he rested his gauntlet upon the mace by his hip. Marakos looked to the sky and began to sweat, Kadal looked upon the scars and chips on Marakos’ armour, tilting his head in confusion “What are the marks too cousin? Your legion does not often appear in any state less than what the Emperor, praise be his name, would expect?” Marakos’ demeanour was broken as he placed his helm upon his head. 

“We are betrayed Kadal” Marakos said, resting on the battlement barrier. Kadal was confused and before he could speak Marakos continued, “The communication of the west had not been broken by any mistake or Xenos threat, it was planned from the beginning” Marakos turned around and unwrapped a bloody rag, inside was the symbol of the Dark Angels, broken and seemingly altered to feature an eye and at the end of the hilt was the very star of chaos. Kadal gasped, “Cousin, we had been isolated from the Imperium for some time but surely it has not been that long? And how? How could I have been so blind? How could the God Emperor permit or not see this betrayal? Why did they betray us?” Marakos wrapped the sigil back in the rag and placed it at his hip.  

“We fell upon Caliban with haste and wrath, too swiftly for any further legions to know. We were joined by the 5th, 10th, 12th, 18th, and 19th legions alongside the Emperor’s sons. We were turned on during this battle, but most of the Ultramarine fleet was still in the void upon the betrayal and fled to extend the message of treason. Soon the traitors will arrive, and they must prepare in the meantime” Marakos explained with a choked grief stuck in his throat. Kadal was stricken by this to the heart and expressed his shock. Marakos assured his cousin but warned, “Kadal be aware, traitors are within our ranks and their locations are unknown. Many of our own have been found dead in friendly territory. Be careful cousin, this is not a war we intend to lose” Kadal nodded, quite shaken. Marakos looked to the skies and Kadal turned his gaze towards Marakos, “So… who’s blood shall fall upon our blades?” Kadal asked, placing the helm upon his head. Marakos explained that after they had fled Caliban they were pursued by the 5th and 12th with the 5th being at full strength. Kadal pulled his eyes attention from the clouded sky and turned to face the landing Ultramarines, “Well, cousin if we are to die then we shall die together. If we are to be victorious then we will make the Emperor smile” Kadal lamented. 

Writer's Gratitude:

This is the end of Part 1! Please stay tuned for part 2 hopefully coming in this month (hopefully) Any and all constructive criticism will be appreciated as I have never undertaken anything of this sort before and would appreciate any and all help. Thank you if you have read this fanfiction and I hope to see you again in the next part! (Thanks again)