#Slaanesh's Champion

[tagedeszorns]

Will I ever be good enough to paint him as beautiful as he deserves?

[voices-of-favor]

I have mentioned heretics beefing with the Voices of Favor, but who are, or rather is this big bad heretic?

Naveed, known as the "Steel Stag" by his followers, was a posessed space marine champion fighting in the name of Slaanesh. He led a small warband called the "Stag sect", which slowly introduced the local forces of planet Malto to Slaanesh and their gifts, starting the massive Malto uprising which would lead to the return/founding of the Voices

After their cultists were defeated, Naveed and his most loyal marines fled the world to fight a century-long guerilla campaign against the Voices all over the Malto sector

Naveeds reign of terror ended soon after his greatest triumph - a few years after he butchered Vukar, the legendary chaplain of the Voices, his best student Perun, still one of the chapters Accusers back then, tracked Naveed down and ambushed him, defeating the chaos champion after a long duel by beheading him with his own axe, which Perun would claim as a trophy along with Naveeds antlers

While Perun wields the now-purified war axe (named "Cloud caller"), the posessed marines antlers are locked up deep within the chapters fortress monastery for it is said that the essence of Naveed, or possibly even his very soul, still endures in this relic, waiting for a chance to spread its corruption once more

[blake-nikos]

 hay its been awhile...   this time is a bit of warhammer black crusade / onlywar/  rouge trader character art    my  character Maya  she was the party's commissar shes started off pretty nice, a strict but respected leader till  shit started going down hill  and her hole regiment was branded heretics... now she is a tailed, faceless and surprisingly  not that heavily mutated (yet)   champion of slaanesh with a keeper of secrets  bound into a set of power armour  and not to forget ”pirate prince” 

[slaanxsh]

Joined the official Warhammer Discord on the hunt for who plays this hideous bastard!

Damn tho....N'kari's voice got me acting very unwise 🥴🥴🥴🥴

[primestartes]

I love snatching Oldhammer Chaos Champions and bringing them back as OCs. Always wanted to draw Drusil.

[kharrneth]

Y'know, the story you wrote about Khorne and Slaanesh's tussle giving birth to Malal keeps reminding me of the story of Hephaestus and Athena. Heph had a crush on Athena and tried to sleep with her, but she refused and they tussled, but in that struggle, Heph's seed shot onto her thigh, and even if she wiped it off, she later gave birth to the child Erichthonius.

Heph and Athena? Was Heph not Athena's--

Wait, no I'm thinking of Hera. Ok, so that makes Heph and Athena siblings I believe. Those wacky fuckin' gods.

Anyway, I've never heard of Erichthonius, I'll have to read about him!

[cannibalcaprine]

fulgrim and ferrus manus?? really??

anon he's the champion of slaanesh he's the single most likely to do something sexually and morally apalling

[ladymirdan]

Lucius: “I'm a champion of Slaanesh!”

Eidolon: “So is the guy selling ultra-spicy hot dogs down at the market!”

Lucius: “I know you are only saying that to hurt my pride, but those are some really spicy hot dogs...”

[skxrbrand]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐊𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐒, 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐋

His hoofbeats echoed around him, bouncing off the jagged staircase with each heavy step he took. Up and up and up-- the stairs seemed endless, one turn of dark, ruddy brass after another, but the Reaper could tell he nearing his destination. It was clear in how the air, already impossibly hot from the combined rage of a million warriors battling endlessly below, grew hotter. It was clear in how his own fury, nearest in character to the Blood God's own, became deeper and the daemon himself became more brazen with each step.

He had been summoned by Kharneth personally. Him and him alone, a fact many of siblings had silently resented. Skarbrand still recalled striding past them, head high and full of purpose. Jostling their bulk with his own, shouldering them out of the way, and daring them to make a single sound in protest. No other but Khorne could do such a thing and live. No other but Khorne and himself, the favored of the Blood God, who enjoyed the Lord of Slaughter's favor like no daemon before or since.

Or so had been the case, up until recently.

Skarbrand had only heard of it through whispers and rumor, for he had been campaigning deep in the lands of his father's foes, reaping Skulls and adding yet more tales to his own Saga. The furies on the wind had chittered and gossiped, the bloodletters had grunted together in their harsh Khar-Dhar tongues whilst cleaning skulls, and even one or two of his Deathbringer kin had parroted the news: Khorne had taken a daemon to wife. A paramour, a consort, a Queen.

The Reaper had paid it no mind. This would happen sometimes; the titterings and tales of other, more frivolous daemons would worm their way into the Blood Legions like a Nurglish plague. He was above such things, naturally. But as he wheeled his legion around, skulls collected and corpses left the crumble to immaterial dust, the news did not fade. It persisted; nay, it grew. There were details now. This was no daemon from the four, or independent daemon yet to claim a god for a master. It was a daemon prince, a she-mortal from the material plane.

Skarbrand had laughed when he had first heard it. How ridiculous! That the Great Bloodwolf would feel such things for mere sheep to be culled. And then, he had grown angry when his kin had insisted it was the truth. But the Reaper had strode through the Bastion Gates, into the Great Hall of the Blood Feast, and he had seen her. Valkia the Bloody, the Gore-Queen, the she-mortal who had slain one of Slaanesh's ascended in single combat. And he had seen his father in a theopany of himself, a lesser form he rarely if ever took, and there had been a burning he could not describe that had taken root within him.

And that was when the Changer had struck, lighting yet another fire in the Reaper's breast.

Skarbrand was undefeated. Never had he failed to bring his master victory, never had he failed to glut the Blood God on blood and deliver a rich bounty to the Skull Throne. It was he who had defeated the champions of rival gods, and shattered their armies, razed their lands and struck fear and terror into their very hearts. The shadow of a grin worked it's way onto his doggish face as he recalled the Trickster's visit. How he had gripped the trembling fury in one mailed fist and leered contemptuously as it lied to him.

But were they lies?

Khorne could not make similar claims as the Wrathful Reaper. He had known humiliation at the hands of Slaanesh, humbling at the machinations of Nurgle, and outright defeat before the Changer. Literal statues, cast in bronze and made from the collars of his own hounds, had been erected of these failures and the Blood God had suffered their existence. He had lost, he had failed, and now there was a measly once-mortal attracting his eye. Softening his famously black heart.

ᴛⷮhͪeͤ Вloͦoͦdͩ Goͦdͩ iͥs͛ weͤaͣᴋⷦ. Whͪaͣᴛⷮ oͦᴛⷮhͪeͤrͬ eͤxͯрlaͣnaͣᴛⷮiͥoͦn cͨaͣn ᴛⷮhͪeͤrͬeͤ вeͤ? The Fury had strained within Skarbrand's ever-tightening grip. ᴛⷮoͦ s͛uͧrͬvͮiͥvͮeͤ weͤ mͫuͧs͛ᴛⷮ cͨhͪaͣngeͤ. Aͣndͩ ᴋⷦhͪoͦrͬneͤ iͥs͛ aͣn oͦldͩ dͩoͦg wiͥᴛⷮhͪ noͦ neͤw ᴛⷮrͬiͥcͨᴋⷦs͛ ᴛⷮoͦ oͦffeͤrͬ. ᴛⷮhͪeͤ S͛ᴋⷦuͧll ᴛⷮhͪrͬoͦneͤ yeͤaͣrͬns͛ foͦrͬ aͣ neͤw goͦdͩ,̓ aͣ s͛ᴛⷮrͬoͦng goͦdͩ.

The Reaper gave a rumble, his heart swelling even to recall those words. He was no fool-- Tzeentch had his designs, obviously. Displacing Khorne would surely be part of some larger plan...but the Trickster had yet to see what Skarbrand would become as the new God of Blood. Khorne was no mystery, but the Reaper would be a new beast. A Daemon-God the four were yet to know.

At last, he climbed the final step, onto the tallest of the Brass Citadel's towers. The brassy shadows of the fortress fell away to the bright, bloody skies of the ever-burning realm. In all directions, battle could be witnessed. In the skies, Bloodthirsters dueled with axe and whip, on the bone-choked plains armies charged into one another with abandon, and even on the blood-oceans and rivers of lava slicing the land into chunks, Skullships rammed one another or shot volleys of burning heads at rival captains and crews.

And overlooking it all was the Blood God himself, standing at the edge of the ramparts. If Skarbrand was a sight of terror, Kharneth was such eight hundred times over. He was tall and broad, clad in black-and-brass armor glowing with intricate bloody red runes. No other could've worn it, for the Blood God had a bulk to him that his children simply lacked, even mighty Skarbrand. He seemed to notice the Reaper's presence after a moment or two of surveying his realm, turning just enough to see his daemonic scion.

Skarbrand stood straighter, gripped his axes tighter. Much of the fury borne of his ruminating disappeared the instant his father's hellish gaze fell upon him. Instantly, he dropped his eyes to the floor, then he himself followed, one knee bearing his weight.

" Father." Skarbrand began, " You sent for me."

Khorne gave a rumble at the deference, turning himself back around to behold his realm. "𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐍. 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃."

The Reaper obeyed, and the closer he walked, the more of a poor idea the Changer's prattling seemed to be. He came to stand a ways behind the Blood God, not so presumptive as to stand beside his father. To the Chaos Power, he was tiny-- the size a mortal might've been compared to his own stature.

"𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓. 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆."

Skarbrand's brow furrowed, but he did not react to the statement otherwise. There was a weight on his shoulder then and an accompanying heat he could feel through his armor and even his own skin. He looked up. A hand, armored and taloned, had settled on his shoulder. Khorne's hand. The Blood God was smaller now, closer to him in size, looking at him with a joyous reverence Skarbrand had seen him show vanishingly few of his devoted, be they mortal or daemon.

"𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐒. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄."

The heat left. Khorne had pulled away, to continue overlooking his soon-to-be far more vast Kingdom.

"𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑. 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇."

The words should've heartened the Reaper and made solid his loyalties to his father...but the effect was the opposite one. Favor. Conqueror for the sake of his love-sick father. No, that was enough for Skarbrand no longer. To be rewarded with second place. To have this old dog standing in the way of his destiny as the new God of Blood. Indignant and newly assured with Kharneth's eyes elsewhere, back to him, neck so clearly in view, the Reaper's fury waxed and from his maw came a thunderous roar.

Before Khorne could turn, Slaughter and Carnage were raised, burning with their own fury as they realized what their treasonous brother meant to do. What he meant to use them for, for which they could only watch and screech. Skarbrand, strongest daemon ever spawned by the warp, forged by Khorne's own fang and blooded by a billion battles, brought both of his War Axes down upon his father's armored neck--

It was like colliding with a wall of the most solid daemon-metal. The descent of his weapon halted, the mastercraft of Khorne's armor proven before his very eyes. The recoil of it rolled violently through Skarbrand, and he could feel blood on his tongue, in his nose, and a yet indeterminable ruin beneath his very skin, within his organs, bones, and muscles. And for what? When he looked down, only the merest divot had been cut into the Blood God's cuirass, cracks spider webbing only so far from the impact site. But no more. No blood, no real damage, nothing for his efforts.

He looked up at his father and found the Blood God staring at him. And there was a fury there he reserved for his brother gods. A mistake. That's what this had been. A trick and a trap. The Reaper made to flee his father's rage, but there was no escaping such a thing. Khorne had already seized him about the throat and around the Reaper, the air snapped and warped. He could feel his armor melting on his very flesh and out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the Citadel itself liquefy as Khorne grew brighter and brighter, his rage deeper and blacker. His hooves dangled from where Khorne held him and beheld him, his ruined face a vision of purest apoplexy.

"𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐘, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃! 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓! 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓! 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐂𝐔𝐑?!"

The Blood God lifted Skarbrand high and then slammed him into the half-melted metal of the Citadel. Around them, volcanoes erupted, the land broke apart in earthquakes, and brass meteors wept from the sky. Fell winds whipped into bone-shredding storms and the skull plains overflowed with boiling blood, brass, and liquid fire. The Realm was just as angry as the God that had created it.

Pinning Skarbrand beneath his bulk, the Blood God pulled back a metal fist and then buried that fist in his son's face. Again and again and again, spiked knuckles ripping flesh from bone and knocking teeth from skull. Snapping and splintering horn and spilling blood. For his part, the only thing the Legendary Exile could do was take it. Endure. Move with the punches, so as to reduce their impact. Survive his father's incandescent fury.

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄. 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄?" Khorne grasped Skarbrand's head, his talons pressing into bone, ruining one eye. Through his own terror and Kharneth's wrath, the Reaper saw a mirthless grin stretched out across the Blood God's face, and he knew in the moment that his miseries were just beginning.

"𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐍. 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐄." Pulling Skarbrand from the ground in his clawed grip, the Blood God held his broken form for all the realm see. He let them witness the cost of treachery and know that even his utmost favor would not excuse them from his wrath. And then, he channeled that wrath through his claws, his vengeance ugly to behold. Skarbrand screamed. He felt the flames of his father's rage burning him from within and without, searing away his very being, filling him with the fury he so coveted. His skin cracked, his body bulged, but Khorne sneered and denied the Reaper the mercy of fulmination.

"𝐍𝐎, 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐍. 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄, 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓. 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐓."

With the same claw he had shredded the Bloodthirster with, Kharneth had remade Skarbrand to carry his own rage. And when he had finished, the screaming Bloodthirster was little more than a beast, little more than a rabid overlarge Flesh Hound. But the Blood God had no more favor for this treacherous dog. He cocked back his arm and with one powerful flex, sent the Reaper over the edge of the tower and into the sky, a comet of ruin and destruction.

Banished from his presence forever.

[tabsalad]

Inktober 2023: Wild Edition #18

A duel of champions. Cato Sicarius, Knight Champion of Macragge, trades blows with the horrific Lucius the Eternal, Champion of Slaanesh. To win is to die, to lose is eternal dishonor.

[megamuscle885-blog]

So, warhammer fantasy? Plus Worm. Lets brainstorm a bit. A non-exhaustive list of who would become champions of chaos, or be chosen by the chaos gods to become their heralds, in no particular chronological order.

Khorne: The Butcher XIV aka Quarrel.

I can see The Butcher turning rabid one awful night. Howling about an infinite ocean of blood. Slaughtering the unpowered members of the Teeth. Killing those who try to reason with her. Infecting others with her madness somehow. Most of the Teeth capes flee north to Boston and Spree's clique when they're told to run by those Teeth that were there for the slaughter. Of those that were present, maybe half maybe more, flee to the New York Protectorate, begging refuge, begging Legend to kill The Butcher before she breaks free, something like that. Incoherent babbling about how she's slathered herself in blood and is killing indiscriminately - Villains, Heroes and civilians alike - piling the skulls of those she beheads in one spot and sits upon it like a gory throne. The Teeth are reforged in The Butcher's charnel house, quenched in blood. The World Eaters. She aspires to wash the entire east coast in blood, a massive sacrifice that will bring daemons through in their millions, and she'll begin in the largest city in north america.

Nurgle: Nilbog aka The Goblin King aka James Rinke.

A particularly terrible winter's night, cold and frigid in Ellisburg, NY, James is holding one of his favourite creations, Polka III, as she dies from disease. He's trying to tell a bedtime story to the rest of the creatures, all sharing their body warmth as best they can, but the cold is making his puppet shiver and he's constantly interupted by a cough that rattles his ribs and won't go away no matter how much he clears his throat. He's in tears over the sorry state of his garden. A like-minded figure sympathizes with his plight. He begs the empty air for something to save them. Something comes. The acrid, infertile land around Ellisburg, stripped of nutrients to create his fantasy creatures suddenly begins to spring to life all around him. Strange and fantastic new fruits and berries curl out of the ground. Caramel-sweet rivers start to form. Everything is verdant and green and hot wherever he walks. His cough doesn't seem to go away, but it doesn't bother him much anymore. Polka III is alive and well. And he's suddenly struck by so many new and wonderful ideas. He goes to the carcass pits and begins to create and create and create. And his Grandfather looks on with paternal joy.

Slaanesh: Jack Slash aka Jacob Black, the Slaughterhouse 9.

This might not click for some people. Personally, I think a man for whom every new terrible torment needs to be more thrilling, more horrible, more impactful than the last fits perfectly here. I'm not entirely sure how to write his first moments though. Broadcast nudges him one way, Slaanesh nudges him another. He starts to indulge more and more. A little less careful. Broadcast's balancing act starts to slip as Slaanesh's prodding throws the relationships of the Slaughterhouse 9 into new dynamics. I might have to come back to this one, but it was one of the first I thought of.

Tzeentch: Taylor Hebert

Now who else would like to see Skitter but with birds? Fucked up mutated birds. Introducing the Raven God and his new magical apprentice. I feel myself running dry here, but I think as our nominated protagonist, Tzeentch is able to lend quite a bit of weight to Taylor's character, and her eagerness to grab onto an escape from her wretched life with both hands and take it to its extremes. Though one thing I will mention is that one of Tzeentch's aspects is as a God of Hope, and that'd be fun to play with I think. Though that's an aspect of his Fantasy version, and I tend to think of the Fantasy versions of the Chaos Gods as more interesting tbh.

[tagedeszorns]

Hey I thought I would let you know that I adore your art! it is absolutely beautiful! I hope you have a great day!

Hey, thank you! I'm glad you like my stuff and your ask totally made my day!

Have some Lucius blowing you kisses!

[remembrancerlexandrosschreik]

I just realized I didn't post these two yet. Behold, Inquisitor Katarin Criona, as well as her sanctioned Eldar "confidante" who just so happens to have the same last name, Katarin definitely didn't pull a fanon Guilliman and end up in a committed relationship with an Eldar. I post this today as a way to say Happy International Lesbian day.

By this, I mean she totally did and is only saying she isn't because, well, heresy.

I do actually have a nice bit of backstory written for them. You will likely remember Inquisitor Criona's more foundational lore from Luka's lore stuff. She is essentially a genetically distinctive clone of Luka who he treated as a daughter and then secreted away to the Schola Progenium when she displayed Inquisitor-grade psyker abilities and control over them, got instated as an Inquisitor, etc. Etc.

What I wish to discuss here is how Inquisitor Criona managed to find her way to having her most trusted member of her retinue be a sanctioned Eldar named Telbrae.

Inquisitor Criona hadn't meant to come across Telbrae, she hadn't even been aware there were any Aeldari on the world she had been staging an infiltration mission to destroy a warband of Slaanesh worshipping Night Lords known by the title of "The Children of the Masque", where she and her retinue uncovered a large amount of non-corrupted prisoners, most of which human, but the one in the most visibly worst condition being an Eldar of the Ynnari.

This Eldar was Telbrae, who had been taken prisoner and was being planned to be used as a sacrifice by the warband before Inquisitor Criona had found her.

Telbrae was so genuinely broken mentally by the torture she had suffered under the warband that, even though she knew the likelihood of an inquisitor returning such a favor, she made the immediate decision to repay this mon-keigh for saving her life.

Inquisitor Criona, being a member of the Ordo Malleus, didn't particularly despise the Aeldari, and simply had her retinue to open the cells and let the prisoners escape, saying they'll sort through them to see who needs or needn't be purged once they destroy the source of the corruption.

While most of the prisoners fled, Telbrae limped her way to the Inquisitor's vessel and raided a medical kit, using it to tend her wounds, before picking up whatever weapons she could find, and then making her way back to the Night Lord stronghold.

During the battle, Criona and her retinue were mostly successful, but as they approached the end of the battle, the warband began to push back and maim her forces, her Astartes retinue being gravely wounded, with them only managing to survive due to a sudden surprise attack as the champion of the warband being stabbed from behind, his mouth sputtering blood, and collapsing, revealing Telbrae wielding a bit of acquired Eldar tech Luka had gifted his daughter, a Harlequin's Kiss.

Telbrae then proceeded to collapse on her face from exhaustion, and awoke on Inquisitor Criona's flagship in the medical ward, with an Inquisitorial Rosette brand beside her. As she stirred, she discovered Criona behind her, where Criona told her what options she had. Either join her, where Criona would have to brand her with and make her a sanctioned xeno, where Telbrae would essentially become her servant, or be killed as there wasn't much way to secret an Eldar out of the ship.

Telbrae, upon analyzing the situation and managing to tell Katarin was being genuine with her frustration over the circumstances of recruiting Telbrae and the genuine intent to treat her as a proper member of her retinue, upon which Telbrae accepted. Resulting in the obvious of Katarin 𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠 𝘋𝘌𝘓𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘛𝘌𝘓𝘠 putting the brand on Telbrae's forehead, while also offering her glove as something to bite down on so as for Telbrae to not end up screaming.

After this, Telbrae began serving as essentially part of Criona's retinue, alongside a few sisters of battle and one Justicar of the Grey Knights. Telbrae quickly proved her competence and value as a member of Criona's retinue during a battle where Inquisitor Criona found herself almost eaten by a Carnifex, hence the lost forearm, where Telbrae once again proved a keen assassin, stabbing the Carnifex, before swiftly dragging Criona out of harms way, and revealing Telbrae's proficiency as a bonesinger (ie. The eldar who make wraithbone stuff).

This is why Inquisitor Criona has a rather distinctive prosthetic hand, its actually an artificed wraithbone prosthetic which Luka augmented upon when he next met with Katarin and immediately jumped at the chance to understand how wraithbone works.

It was during this time Luka also gifted Katarin with a specially crafted power sword. A power sword which may or may not be made out of blackstone which Luka managed to successfully charge in such a way to repel the warp, which he achieved through trial and error.

The time where Katarin and Telbrae began to become close, was when that one puritan inquisitor attempted to hold Luka hostage. During this time, Katarin was, understandably, extremely stressed and increasingly volatile. During this time, Telbrae ended up essentially serving as a stress reliever for Katarin. By this I mean Telbrae found herself being used as a sparring partner so Katarin had something to throw a bunch of attacks at and tire herself out without actually injuring someone, because, you know, eldar are hard to hit. Yes, I'm implying sapphic swordfighting.

This caused their relationship to gradually evolve from simply respect to genuine friendship and then, as you can probably guess by the fact Telbrae shares the last name in that drawing, love. No, the two didn't get married as both know they'd likely be shot on sight, but the two do consider themselves as partners.

This became revealed to Luka when Telbrae and Katarin eventually arrived to that Inquisitor's ship and found Luka had killed him and was pilfering the Inquisitor's treasury, where he then proceeded to do the meme of "YOU DID WHAT WITH A WHAT?! KATARIN!" Before proceeding to calm down, do the classic dad duty of threatening Telbrae's life if she ever betrays Katarin, and then proceeded to go back to pilfering as much stuff as he could before Katarin and Telbrae managed to drag him back to the ship.

Now, for current lore for them, following a lore incident I will go into later, Katarin has essentially become the Inquisitor stationed within the Hephaeston system and its borders, as the prior Inquisitor of the region... shall we say, tried to pull a Months of Shame after Hephaeston II and Hephaeston III came under siege by Word Bearers and Iron Warriors respectively but managed to fend them off. That Inquisitor then got immediately beaten to death by both Arthurian Deus, chapter master of the Hephaeston Hammers, as well as three chapter masters of three chapters who were very closely tied by honor to the Hephaeston Hammers, as well as his own Grey Knights who were not going to put up with being put into attrition warfare against genuinely loyal space marines because of one Inquisitor with a fragile ego. Suffice to say, that Inquisitor is now dead, and Katarin has proven a welcome replacement.

Anyways, that is all I can think of for now. I will maybe add more later, maybe not

[quietbluejay]

Notes for the crack Loyalist!Lucius AU

Once again just copied with minimal editing from discord. Does it make sense? eh. Is it in character? probably not. Is it silly? yes. Was it fun to play around with? Absolutely.

I'm still thinking about the loyalist!lucius au where eidolon turns him down because it's so much in eidolon's character to do that also after finding out loken somehow survived isstvan iii that means that other people could also have survived, in theory

malcador: im recruiting you to be part of a secret elite unit lucius: i like "elite" malcador: you will get no glory and no recognition lucius: ahkay im out

malcador keeps sending him on extremely flashy suicide missions and lucius keeps surviving the way malcador gets him to agree to the missions is that they're high risk high reward and because they're high visibility impossible missions his name is out there iirc in the original version of this he became Slaanesh's champion anyways, just fighting on the opposite side lucius to various imperials: im going to teach you all about the power of rock like hm realistically tho malcador would try to kill him like not just via suicide mission but more immediately if he went chaos even crackier idea where malcador kills lucius, succeeds and now lucius is malcador

now, this would be an absolute disaster on every possible level especially given this lucius is slaanesh's champion BUT it would be extremely funny but back to the main au idea thinking further on "why malcador wouldn't just kill lucius" he and loken became besties after surviving for months (years???) alone together on isstvan iii

even more crackily he ends up getting an anti-chaos blade i dunno i feel like such a thing SHOULD exist ...eldar weapon this is the man who used a giant alien murder spider leg (very sharp) as a sword when he got trapped on murder spider planet (and got yelled at for it, because it was alien) also a lot of the good magical artefacts/swords have morality requirements and lucius is nnnnnnot going to pass those the most "realistic" way he gets the sword is by killing a craftworld but, tbh, i do not wish to reward this behaviour

…he should derail the plot of Angel Exterminatus from what I understand it involved eldar things and Fulgrim using a whole bunch of eldar soulstones (and also part of Perturabo's soul) to turn himself into a daemon (maybe i should not actually make these plans without reading the book. oh well.)

malcador: your primarch and also perturabo are trying to do something suspicious are you a bad enough dude to stop them? lucius: absolutely malcador: i have every faith that you will succeed after lucius leaves malcador: there's a 99% chance he'll die. FINALLY. maybe lucius gets the soulstones and accidentally trades them to the eldar for the sword like he survives but he's too injured to actually do anything here which is how he gets thanked and they say, lucius' hearts grew three sizes that day

he also wasn't really attached to the sword and then malcador told him not to get rid of it "you're not my real dad!" he said, clutching the sword "no," muttered malcador, "your real dad is trying to turn into a sexy snake" "i have many questions," said loken, who was currently being ignored in the corner.

so in canon loken kind of snapped due to being alone on isstvan iii surrounded only by the bodies of his former comrades is….is lucius somehow his emotional crutch i mean having one person to talk to is loads better than being alone even if that person is someone who hates you and you don't particularly care for either would lucius be the type of person who would like someone being emotionally dependent on him (especially given the beef) or would he be "ew clingy"

lol okay this is a more serious part of the au, i think lucius would have a lot of time for uncomfortable introspection on isstvan iii maybe that's how some of his character development happens

oh no look it's one of my favourite character dynamics garviel loken and lucius, starring in: this is our get-along virus-bombed planet

[slaanxsh]

You tellin’ me Kyriss got the mfin’--

KYRISS I GOT ONE QUESTION FOR YOU

WHAT ARE THOOOOOOOOOSE

[primestartes]

Vopi the Magnificent - Raptor Lord of Vopi's Host and Champion of Ludwig

The clone-child of one cadian soldier that had the 'misfortune' to fall into the clutches of the Slaaneshi Daemon, Ludwig the Aspired. Rewarded for a rare entertainment and the spark of Humanity's better quality, the Patron of Beasts claimed his being and forged from it - an gene-perfected child damned to a champion. Like a parody of the Primarches' own fall onto their homeworlds to be, the capsule holding the developing incubus was taken from the investigations of Daemonhunters to the cradle of the Daemon's personal crown-world. To emerge in the perfume-heated jungles that were filled with Slaangor, madmen and daemons constantly battling under the shadow of his palace.

From the world, an astartes rose. A beautiful young man mutated by of incadascant wings marked and garnished under his armour of royal violet, gilted motif and the marble-white shoulder bearing his Daemon-Father's Gaze.

The Incubus of Ludwig haunted the nether and reality for centuries, a rambuscious corsair and enemy to many. A untamed card till one day, before the climax to Abaddon's 13rd Black Crusade, he met the unspoken Evil That Waited.

These images were gloriously done by:

toranekostudios

amriagiath-blog