u/Dawn_of_Wrath

Art Link 1: https://pin.it/5RSEiV3JH

Art Link 2: https://pin.it/1D1VOmt4x

It is upon the volcanic death world known as Nocturne that the future Primarch of the Salamanders, Hestia, would land upon. Though her arrival on the planet would be at such a time when the planet was going through what the people of the planet referred to as the Great Trial. A period of time that occurs every Nocturnian year (15 Terran years) when the planet freezes over entirely. Because of this, it was only after the Great Trial had passed that Hestia would be found by a group of Nocturnians when they ventured out of their village in search of food.

Amazed that one so small could survive the Great Trial, the group of villagers brought Hestia back to their village and presented her to the village elder. There it was decided by the elder that the infant Hestia would be given over to a young couple who had recently lost their own child during the Great Trial. The man, Broteas, was a huntsman and blacksmith by trade while his wife Kharis was a seamstress. The death of their child had greatly affected both of them, so when Hestia was given to them by the elder to raise as their own, Kharis treasured Hestia. Broteas, however, was not as quick in his affection of Hestia. He held no disdain for Hestia, but he was not yet ready to move on from the death of his child. But life carried on, and so would he.

Over time as Hestia grew older and taller, she began to help her adoptive-parents however she could. Though she quickly noted there was a distance between her and her adoptive-father that did not exist with her adoptive-mother. Seeking to close this emotional distance between herself and her adoptive-father, Hestia took up blacksmithing like Broteas, hoping their shared love of metal-working would be the foundation of their relationship as father and daughter. This effort did not go unnoticed or unappreciated by Broteas, and as a result he began to teach Hestia all that he knew about forging; and slowly their bond as father and daughter grew. But their peace did not last long. It never did on Nocturne, the Great Trial had begun again, but this time far sooner than it had ever begun before.

The people of the village were slowly starving and freezing to death; what warmth could be conjured from the forge was easily snuffed out by the biting cold winds. Refusing to see her family, her people slowly starve and freeze to death, Hestia ventured alone into the frigid wastes toward the one place that could save her people, Mount Deathfire. Unbeknownst to Hestia, her childhood friend and companion, Cercyon, had chosen to follow her as he did not wish to let her embark on such a dangerous quest alone. And it was better than slowly freezing and starving to death in Cercyon’s eyes.

Grateful for the company and the aid, Hestia allowed Cercyon to accompany. Moreover, whenever she was with Cercyon, the sweltering heat and biting cold seemed a bit more tolerable. So, together as one, Cercyon and Hestia traveled across the frozen wastes of Nocturne until they at least reached Mount Deathfire. But what astounded them the most was that even during the Great Trial the super volcano radiated with such heat that it created various hot springs all around its basin. But the steaming water of hot springs was not their only aim. Their true aim was what laid inside the super volcano. Salamanders. Large reptilian creatures whose scales could keep the forge-fire lit even during the worst blizzard while their meat could feed a starving village long enough to last them through the rest of the Great Trial. There was just one small problem. Their scales were nigh impenetrable. But with her parents’ and people at stake, Hestia would do whatever it took to save them. Even if that meant forfeiting her own life as a result.

When they arrived at the mouth of the super-volcano, Hestia had Cercyon wait outside while she delved into the super-volcano alone to confront the beast. Cercyon wanted to object, but he knew he would only slow her down, so he reluctantly agreed to wait outside by the hot springs. Inside the volcano itself, the battle between Hestia and the salamander did not last long as Hestia easily overpowered the large breast, strangling it to death with her bare hands. When she emerged from the volcano with the salamander’s corpse in her possession, Cercyon was overjoyed.

Unfortunately their joy was short lived as upon their return to their village, they found their people decimated by sickness and starvation. Half had died since they left for Mount Deathfire, while the other half were halfway in the grave themselves. Hestia and Cercyon did what they could to help their struggling people, but by the end of the Great Trial only Hestia and Cercyon had survived. Both were grief stricken, but they knew they could not linger, so they took only what they needed and returned to Mount Deathfire.

Slowly, more and more displaced survivors like them began to arrive at the slopes of the super-volcano, and before long a new settlement had begun to take shape. One that sought to endure not only for their own sake, but for the sake of all those they lost along the way. But their newfound peace did not last long. Mere months after the establishment of their settlement, Drukhari raiders arrived on the planet seeking fresh meat for the grinder. However, the Nocturnians had no intentions of simply letting the Drukhari enslave them.

The battle was brief and decisive as the Drukhari did not expect the Nocturnians to resist them. Though it was Hestia that filled the Drukhari with the most dread. She was a behemoth in comparison to the other Nocturnians, so the Drukhari retreated from Nocturne, taking with them only the knowledge that Nocturne was no longer as passive as they once believed it to be.

Back on the planet itself, news spread like a molten river of lava about the Behemoth who defied the Drukhari and prevailed. It wasn’t long before people began to flock to Mount Deathfire in mass to meet the hero who defied the Drukhari and prevailed. But that was only half the reason. They all sought new lives, better lives, and the people of Nocturne were willing to place their trust and hope in Hestia. It was a heavy responsibility, but Hestia was determined to do right by her people, and that is what Cercyon loved most about his wife. So together they led their people into a future where they no longer had to live in fear of the Drukhari or Nocturne’s harsh environs.

When the Drukhari returned, they did so in mass, but thanks to Hestia’s steadfast leadership and Cercyon’s inventions, the Nocturnians of Mount Deathfire were more than prepared for the fight to come. However, before the Drukhari could begin to deploy their forces, a new force arrived out of the Warp. The Imperium of Man.

Recognizing the sigil of the Empress of Mankind, the Drukhari retreated back into their own territory while the Empress and Emperor-Consort of Mankind descended to the planet’s surface to reunite with their daughter. But Hestia was not so easily convinced by the Empress or Emperor-Consort. So she proposed a challenge to her supposed mother. A hunt. Whoever slew the most salamanders would concede to the victor’s demands. The Empress accepted her daughter’s terms and the hunt began while Cercyon remained in the city with the Emperor-Consort. Cercyon did not trust the Empress or her consort anymore than Hestia did, but even he couldn’t deny the sincerity in the Emperor-Consort’s words.

When Hestia and the Empress returned from their hunt, Hestia pledged her loyalty and service to her birth-mother and father. A decision that left Cercyon puzzled until Hestia explained why she had chosen to pledge fealty to the Empress. During their hunt, she nearly fell to her death, but the Empress saved her life without a second thought. Faced with the true of the situation and the promise of future protection from the Drukhari, Cercyon too pledged his loyalty to the Empress of Mankind.

Art Link 1: https://pin.it/5RSEiV3JH

Art Link 2: https://pin.it/1D1VOmt4x

It is upon the volcanic death world known as Nocturne that the future Primarch of the Salamanders, Hestia, would land upon. Though her arrival on the planet would be at such a time when the planet was going through what the people of the planet referred to as the Great Trial. A period of time that occurs every Nocturnian year (15 Terran years) when the planet freezes over entirely. Because of this, it was only after the Great Trial had passed that Hestia would be found by a group of Nocturnians when they ventured out of their village in search of food.

Amazed that one so small could survive the Great Trial, the group of villagers brought Hestia back to their village and presented her to the village elder. There it was decided by the elder that the infant Hestia would be given over to a young couple who had recently lost their own child during the Great Trial. The man, Broteas, was a huntsman and blacksmith by trade while his wife Kharis was a seamstress. The death of their child had greatly affected both of them, so when Hestia was given to them by the elder to raise as their own, Kharis treasured Hestia. Broteas, however, was not as quick in his affection of Hestia. He held no disdain for Hestia, but he was not yet ready to move on from the death of his child. But life carried on, and so would he.

Over time as Hestia grew older and taller, she began to help her adoptive-parents however she could. Though she quickly noted there was a distance between her and her adoptive-father that did not exist with her adoptive-mother. Seeking to close this emotional distance between herself and her adoptive-father, Hestia took up blacksmithing like Broteas, hoping their shared love of metal-working would be the foundation of their relationship as father and daughter. This effort did not go unnoticed or unappreciated by Broteas, and as a result he began to teach Hestia all that he knew about forging; and slowly their bond as father and daughter grew. But the true test of their bond would come when the Great Trial descended upon Nocturne once again when Hestia was much older.

The people of the village were slowly starving and freezing to death; what warmth could be conjured from the forge was easily snuffed out by the biting cold winds. Refusing to see her family, her people slowly starve and freeze to death, Hestia ventured alone into the frigid wastes toward the one place that could save her people, Mount Deathfire. Unbeknownst to Hestia, her childhood friend and companion, Cercyon, had chosen to follow her as he did not wish to let her embark on such a dangerous quest alone. And it was better than slowly freezing and starving to death in Cercyon’s eyes.

Grateful for the company and the aid, Hestia allowed Cercyon to accompany. Moreover, whenever she was with Cercyon, the sweltering heat and biting cold seemed a bit more tolerable. So, together as one, Cercyon and Hestia traveled across the frozen wastes of Nocturne until they at least reached Mount Deathfire. But what astounded them the most was that even during the Great Trial the super volcano radiated with such heat that it created various hot springs all around its basin. But the steaming water of hot springs was not their only aim. Their true aim was what laid inside the super volcano. Salamanders. Large reptilian creatures whose scales could keep the forge-fire lit even during the worst blizzard while their meat could feed a starving village long enough to last them through the rest of the Great Trial. There was just one small problem. Their scales were nigh impenetrable. But with her parents’ and people at stake, Hestia would do whatever it took to save them. Even if that meant forfeiting her own life as a result.

With Cercyon at her side, Hestia delved into the super-volcano to slay the large salamander that called Mount Deathfire home. To their relief it was still asleep as salamander go into a sort of hibernation during the Great Trial. However, the salamander was cognizant enough to smell the change in the air. Slowly it opened its eyes to see Hestia and Cercyon standing before it. Knowing their aim was to kill it, the Salamander opened its maw and let out a stream of fire. Taking Cercyon into her arms, Hestia leapt out of the way, taking cover behind a large rock formation. But the salamander was not an idle predator and charged toward the large rock it knew Hestia and Cercyon cowered behind.

Smashing through the large rock, Hestia and Cercyon split off, forcing the large beast to split its attention between the two of them. Using his enhanced crossbow, Cercyon began to pepper the salamander with specially designed bolts meant to piece through their scales. But the bolts had minimal success as most of the scales that covered its body were too tough to break through. However a few managed to strike the salamander in its softer underbelly.

Infuriated by Cercyon’s antics, the salamander turned its attention away from Hestia and onto Cercyon. But before the beast could open its maw to unleash yet another stream of fire, Hestia slammed into the beast before she brought her hammer down on its head, stunning it temporarily. She then began to grapple with the dazed beast, exposing its underbelly to Cercyon who wasted no time unleashing volley after volley of bolts into the beast’s underbelly. But the beast soon broke free of Hestia’s grapple and tail-whipped her into the side of the super-volcano before she fell into the lava.

Horrified and enraged by the supposed death of his love, Cercyon attacked the salamander head on, shooting it repeatedly with his crossbow before grabbing Hestia’s hammer off the ground, and smashed it into the beast’s head again and again. But before Cercyon could deliver the killing blow to the salamander, the beast tail-whipped Cercyon causing him to fly through the air toward the lava pool only to be caught by Hestia, who was alive and well, but completely naked. Setting Cercyon down, Hestia rushed toward the salamander, even as it attempted to incinerate her with its fiery breath, but her regeneration ability healed her faster than the beast could burn her, and with a final swing of her hammer, she killed the beast.

In the aftermath, Cercyon embraced Hestia like he’d never done before, and Hestia was happy to reciprocate her Wyrmheart’s affection. Though they faced a new issue, Hestia’s clothes had been completely burned off by the lava, and she very well couldn’t venture out into the cold without some measure of clothing. So Cercyon fashioned her a crude dress from the salamander’s scales that had been broken off by the hammer. Once Hestia was properly clothed, they made the long trek back to the village with the salamander’s corpse in tow. Unfortunately, upon their return to their village, they found only corpses. In their desperation the people of their village had resorted to cannibalism and destroyed themselves as a result.

Heartbroken by this tremendous loss, Hestia vowed to ensure such a travesty never repeated. Two more weeks would go by before the Great Trial finally ended, restoring the planet to its natural volcanic state. But the greatest trial for the people of Nocturne had yet to come. Nevertheless, Hestia and Cercyon did what they could to give their people a proper burial, casting their corpses into the molten river of Mount Deathfire. But with no village or family to return to, Hestia and Cercyon stayed in close proximity to Mount Deathfire in anticipation for the next Great Trial while continuing to hone their skills as blacksmiths and warriors. But they were not the only ones drawn to the super-volcano.

Little by little, survivors like them began to arrive at the basin of Mount Deathfire and a new settlement began to take shape. Before long their meagre camp of survivors had become a full-fledged domed city-state Hestia named Prometheus. It was unlike anything seen in Nocturne’s history as the dome around the city not only protected the people from the extreme heat and lava of Mount Deathfire, but also against the merciless cold of the Great Trial. For once since the Dark Age of technology, the people of Nocturne no longer had to live in constant fear. But that is when they appeared. The Drukhari.

They arrived just after the Great Trial had passed expecting to find a broken, divided, and scattered people that they could turn into their slaves. Instead, they found a people united in their shared grief of their lost loved ones led by their Promethean Queen and her Wyrmheart. The Drukhari were not just crushed, they had been humiliated on such a level that the survivors took their own lives out of shame for their failure.

However the Drukhari were not the type to accept such a humiliating defeat lying down. So they attacked again during the Great Trial which ultimately proved even more costly. They were not used to the devastating cold of the Great Trial and were soundly defeated once again. Many more attempts would be made by the Drukhari to subjugate the people of Nocturne, but every time they were defeated. And on the thirteenth and final attempt, the Empress and Emperor-Consort would arrive over Nocturne with their massive fleet, crushing the Drukhari invasion force once and for all.

Art Link: https://www.instagram.com/p/DboO6U0iOY-/?img_index=2&igsh=NnkyMHU2bmx6OWw2

Belaerys is the son of Hestia and Wyrmheart and Chapter-Master of the Dragons of Nocturne. Together with his father, Belaerys fearlessly leads his gene-brothers into battle against the forces that threaten to overtake the Imperium while also ceaselessly searching for any sign of his mother. Hestia lives.

Art Link 1: https://pin.it/3spRPplTf

Art Link 2: https://www.diablofans.com/news/51717-wield-divine-might-as-the-paladin

When Aurelia’s pod landed outside the city of Archaepolis on the world of Colchis, it drew a massive crowd of people. Curiosity quickly gave way to shock and awe when the pod opened revealing the infant Aurelia, future Primarch of the Word-Bearers. But amidst the peoples shock and awe one glaring question remained in all their minds: Where did she come from? However, such a question would have to wait as a more pressing issue arose: Who would care for the child? From this quandary, a kindly elder priest known as Aurelianus, volunteered to care for the infant Primarch.

Aurelianus was a well known and respected figure in Archaepolis, both for his wisdom, and his faith in the gods. In his long life he had cared for many orphaned children who went on to become priests or paladins alike. And such was his renown and piety that the people of Archaepolis heralded him as the Saint of Archaepolis. So when he volunteered to raise Aurelia as his own, no one objected. At least not audibly.

While Aurelianus was respected by all, he was not loved by all. There were those, especially in the clergy that envied Aurelianus and his level of renown and piety; and, would do anything to advance their own position in the clergy. Kor-Phaeron, chief amongst these individuals. So when Kor-Phaeron learned that Aureliaus had adopted yet another orphaned child, he was not shocked in the slightest. Nor did he care at first. But when Aurelianus brought Aurelia into the temple, Kor-Phaeron immediately felt the infant Primarch’s immense raw power. And with cold, treacherous certainty, Kor-Phaeron understood what he needed to do in order to attain the power he sought.

A week into Aurelianus’ care of Aurelia, their home would be invaded in the dead of night by assassins. Believing them to be after Aurelia, Aurelianus drew his sword and stood staunchly in defense of the infant Primarch. The assassins, once believing Aurelianus to be their easiest kill, regarded him with a new wariness. The blade he wielded was no ordinary sword, but a sword of the Wardens of Light.

In his youth, Aurelianus was a Paladin, one of the greatest if the legends were to be believed. Nevertheles, the assassins in question were not the type to let a contract go unfulfilled, so they attacked. All the while, Kor-Phaeron stalked in the shadows of Aurelianus’ home, making his way toward the room where Aurelia slept peacefully.

One by one the assassin fell to Aurelianus’ blade, but not without great effort on Aurelianus’ part. He was not the youthful man he used to be, and he quickly began to tire.

Slowly but inevitably Aurelianus began to lose ground and stagger with each blow he managed to deflect or evade. Nevertheless, Aurelianus remained undeterred. He would protect his adopted-daughter no matter the cost, even if that meant giving his life for her. So, drawing on the last of his strength, Aurelianus attacked the assassins cutting down two of the three remaining assassins until a blade pieced through his back. In horror and rage, Aurelianus saw who the dagger belonged to. But before he could bring his sword down on Kor-Phaeron, the assassin finished him off.

Once Kor-Phaeron was certain Aurelianus was dead, he picked up Aurelianus’ sword, but the blade burned his hand. Scowling in rage, Kor-Phaeron used to his dagger to kill the remaining assassin before bandaging his hand. The next morning, by Kor-Phaeron’s design, the infant Primarch would be found in her crib, crying uncontrollably, along with Aurelianus’ body and those of the assassins, leaving the people horrified and heartbroken.

At Aurelianus’ funeral, Kor-Phaeron weaved his intricate web of lies over the people of Archaepolis, acting especially heartbroken over Aurelianus’ death. He vowed to bring the conspirators to justice before proclaiming to the masses that to honor his late friend’s memory, he would raise the child from the stars himself. And her name henceforth would be Aurelia, in honor of Aurelianus. The people, moved by Kor-Phaeron’s words, celebrated him, giving him their full support. This allowed Kor-Phaeron to systematically eliminate all of Aurelianus’ supporters in the clergy by brandishing them as the conspirators of Aurelianus’ assassination.

From there, Kor-Phaeron set about molding Aurelia into his perfect puppet. He would teach her everything he knew about statecraft and political maneuvering, while instilling in her a near fanatical faith in the gods. Though he underestimated just how well a Primarch could retain information, so when she asked him about Aurelianus, Kor-Phaeron was surprised. So surprised in fact that he nearly let slip that he had been the one to order his death, but he quickly regained his bearings and told her the same story he had told the people at Aurelianus’ funeral. To his relief, that seemed to placate Aurelia for the time being, but a new paranoia, however small, had taken root in the back of Kor-Phaeron’s mind.

But that would not be the last time Kor-Phaeron’s plan to turn Aurelia into the ultimate agent of his will took an unexpected turn.

At the time of their meeting, Abel was a squire in the holy order of the Wardens of the Light, but Aurelia found herself drawn to him all the same. She had no true friends to speak of, and was terribly lonely as a result. So when Abel assured her that he would be her friend, she was the happiest girl in Archaepolis. At first, Kor-Phaeron thought nothing of the boy. Abel was an orphan who had been adopted by the holy order, and posed no political threat to him. However, it quickly became apparent that Abel posed a different threat to him. The more time Aurelia spent with Abel, the more she began to think and act for herself. This, Kor-Phaeron could not abide by, so he would have the boy killed, and then reassert total dominance over Aurelia.

Through instructing his allies in the holy order of the Wardens of the Light, Abel was sent into the desert wastes beyond Archaepolis’ borders to hunt and kill a Kingwyrm. A deadly beast with acidic blood that could melt the flesh from a man’s bones in seconds. Many Paladins had ventured out to slay such beasts, but few ever returned. But before Abel left, Aurelia gave him her sash, tying it around his waist as a token of good fortune.

For forty days and nights, Abel traversed the great desert of Colchis until he at last reached the lair of a Kingwyrm deep within the labyrinthine canyons of Colchis’ great desert. Fear rattled his bones as he came face to face with the beast, but he held his ground. He made a promise to Aurelia to return to her victorious, and he would. But the Kingwyrm, true to its infamous reputation, was a ferocious beast that would’ve gored him a hundred times over if not for his quick reflexes.

The battle was long and arduous, and Abel found himself running and hiding from the beast as often as he crossed blades with it. At one point, Abel thought it would be the end of him until a voice inside his head began to guide him. Ultimately leading Abel to victory against the Kingwyrm. What Abel didn’t realize at the time was that the voice belonged to the Emperor-Consort of Humanity, a man known as Eternal.

Upon Abel’s return to Archaepolis with the head of the Kingwyrm in his possession, the people were in awe. But none more so than Kor-Phaeron. He had been so certain that Abel would perish by the beast’s hands. But once again, his plans had been foiled. Briefly, their eyes met across the sea of people, and what Kor-Phaeron saw in Abel’s eyes shook him to his core.

Aurelia arrived not long after and when she saw Abel with the beast’s head, she rushed through the crowd and embraced him like she’d never embraced him before. The following morning, Abel was officially made a Paladin of the holy order of the Wardens of the Light much to Aurelia’s gladness and Kor-Phaeron’s fury. Especially now that it seemed to Kor-Phaeron that Abel had some measure of knowledge of his plans.

From that point on, in the years that followed, Aurelia and Abel were nigh inseparable. And, as Aurelia learned to truly think and act for herself thanks to Abel’s efforts, Kor-Phaeron could only watch in silent, envious fury as Aurelia surpassed him in every way imaginable. Aurelia had gone from a humble priestess of the gods to the Prophet-Queen of Colchis in a matter of years with Abel as her king-consort. This only spurred Kor-Phaeron to continue to try and spin his web of lies around Aurelia in a futile effort to gain some measure of control over her. But Aurelia had outgrown him, and Abel was always there, guided by the voice of Eternal, to stop Kor-Phaeron.

When the Empress and Emperor-Consort finally arrived over Colchis with their massive fleet, Abel and Aurelia watched in silent satisfaction as Kor-Phaeron was at last brought his knees before the awesome and terrible power that was Eternal.

Art Link 1: https://pin.it/1JpPBpOyd

Art Link 2: https://pin.it/wqM2AYkgh

Once, in ages long past, Cthonia was a prosperous world full of an abundance of natural resources. But over time, through countless wars and human greed, Cthonia was stripped of its natural resources until nothing remained except an empty husk. When that happened, the planet was abandoned by the wider galaxy, leaving those who remained on the planet to live in entropy and squalor. As such, Cthonia quickly became a haven for smugglers, bounty-hunters, slavers, and pirates alike; and where the most valuable resource Cthonia had to offer was its people.

This is the world the future Primarch of the Sixteenth legion, Hathor Lupercal, would find herself thrust into when her pod crash landed in the badlands of Cthonia.

The infant Primarch would be found shortly after her arrival on Cthonia by a group of nomads known as the Sons of Cthonia. They were on their way to Cthonia City, or what was left of it, to do business with the various crime-lords that owned everything and everyone on Cthonia. And Hathor and her pod presented the Sons of Cthonia with the opportunity of a lifetime. On Cthonia, it was rare to find anything in halfway decent shape, especially out in the badlands. Rarer still to find healthy children. But Hathor and her pod were the exceptions that proved the rule. So the Sons of Cthonia took Hathor and her pod with them to Cthonia City. However, the Sons of Cthonia weren’t the only nomads drawn to the crash site, and they knew it too.

Before long, rival nomad groups were on them like flies on a corpse; drawn by the same thing that drew the Sons of Cthonia to Hathor: Profit. The battle itself didn’t last very long as no one wanted to waste what little precious resources they had fighting a losing battle. So when it became clear of the other nomads that whatever the Sons of Cthonia had wouldn’t be given up so easily, they retreated back into the badlands.

When the Sons of Cthonia arrived in Cthonia City, they made their way to the main headquarters of the Black Dragon syndicate. The Black Dragon specialized mainly in arms dealings and occasionally drugs. But they bought anything they believed they could make use out of, especially people. So when the leader of the Sons of Cthonia, a man simply known as Clyde, came before Kano, the crime-boss of the Black Dragon syndicate, with Hathor in his arms, and her pod being wheeled in behind him, Kano’s cybernetic eye gleamed with intrigue. Hathor was perfect. Too perfect to be real, Kano thought. But she was real, and so was the potential to mold her into the deadliest weapon on Cthonia.

From that point on, Kano took on a more hands on approach to Hathor’s education both as a killer and a tactician. But there was no warmth or softness in Hathor’s upbringing. She was treated like everyone else in the Black Dragon, and if she fell short of the syndicate’s and by extension Kano’s expectations, Hathor was either starved for a week or beaten profusely depending on the severity of her failure. As such, Hathor learned early on that emotion was a weakness; that love was a weakness; that mercy was a weakness. And, if Hathor was to survive on Cthonia, she needed to be willing to do the things not even the most hardened gangsters would dream of doing.

Kano was the first to see the shift in his adoptive-daughter and decided to put her newfound resolve to the test. He instructed her to take a warband and travel into the badlands to annihilate the Sons of Cthonia down to the last man, woman, and child.

Not long after the Sons of Cthonia had sold Hathor off to Kano, they had a change in leadership. Clyde was deposed, replaced by a younger more ambitious nomad in the group. However this nomad had none of Clyde’s tact or people-skills. As such, their reputation as a powerful nomad group quickly faded, and the new leader had accrued a substantial debt to Kano he had no way of paying off. So Kano decided to settle the debt himself by sending Hathor with a group of his best men to wipe out the Sons of Cthonia completely.

For three days and nights, Hathor tracked the Sons of Cthonia until she found them encamped in an old, hollowed out mine. This is where Hathor’s tactical prowess as a Primarch first showed signs of awakening. What followed wasn’t a battle, but a slaughter. Hathor used her smaller but deadlier force of Black Dragon enforcers and the environment itself with such skill and tact, the enforcers couldn’t help but be impressed, and slightly frightened of her.

What followed wasn’t a battle. It was a slaughter. First, Hathor sealed off their means to escape, then she destroyed their vehicles and ammunition followed by their food and water supply. When that was finished, she killed the leader of the Sons of Cthonia and his lieutenants, leaving the rest of the tribe in total disarray. That’s when Hathor and her enforcers finally moved in for the killing blow. And that’s how it should’ve ended, with the total annihilation of the Sons of Cthonia. However, one young Nomad not too much younger than Hathor saw them coming and rallied the few nomads he could to fight back. It was ultimately a futile effort, but Hathor couldn’t help but respect the young nomad for his courage. Even if his struggle was ultimately pointless.

Upon her return to Cthonia City, Kano gave his adoptive-daughter a conqueror’s welcome. Word of the Sons of Cthonia’s annihilation had traveled across the badlands to Cthonia City like a raging wildfire spreading across the dry planes. It was the only time in Hathor’s memory where her adoptive-father seemed proud of her, and as she sat there in the midst of her victory, she realized with cold, sickening certainty that Kano’s approval meant nothing to her. For years she had sought it; craved it; and, now that she had it, she saw its true worth with horrifyingly clear eyes. Kano’s approval was as worthless as the man himself. But Hathor also knew that it was better to make a deal with the devil you knew rather than the devil you didn’t. Though, perhaps one day she would kill him.

When she returned to the celebration after taking a few minutes to collect her thoughts, she was approached by one of the few people in the syndicate she would call decent. Lucis Meridius. He was part of Hathor’s warband when she was instructed to annihilate the Sons of Cthonia.

Once, Lucis was the heir of a noble house on Terra, but after he was kidnapped by pirates, he was brought to Cthonia and sold to Kano as a boy. Believing their son dead, Lucis’ parents didn’t waste the effort or money looking for him. Now, Lucis was one of Kano’s top enforcers, but despite everything that had happened to him, he still found it within himself to not be entirely without mercy. At first, Hathor thought he was weak for showing mercy, but now she understood that mercy, when warranted, was it’s own kind of strength.

The two talked well into the night and into the early hours of the morning after Hathor had practically drank everyone at the celebration under the table, including Kano. Yet, to her surprise, Lucis abstained from drinking in excess as he believed it diluted the mind. And, the more they talked, the more they came to realize they were more alike than they were different. Like Hathor, Lucis had no love for Kano, but Lucis had no love for anyone. That was until he got to truly know Hathor.

Over time, Hathor and Lucis spent more and more time together when they weren’t doing jobs for the syndicate. As they did, their bond grew stronger and stronger. So much so that whenever the two went on missions together, they seemed almost unstoppable which was more than satisfactory to Kano. Little did Kano realize that Lucis and Hathor were plotting his very downfall. He had spent so much time at the top of the criminal underworld that he forgot to look down from time to time. This would ultimately prove to be his downfall.

When Lucis and Hathor seized power of the syndicate, it wasn’t with guns, knives, or anything in between. It was subtler and far more deadly. Poison. While Kano was feasting with his captains, celebrating their achievements, they neglected to consider that someone might’ve poisoned their wine. A fact none of them considered until it was too late. And, as Kano choked to death, he saw Hathor appear over him with a cold, blank expression on her face. A twisted grin formed on his twitching lips as he had ultimately succeeded. Hathor had become the perfect weapon, and Cthonia would bend or break to her will.

Five years after Hathor and Lucis took over the Black Dragon syndicate, the Empress of Mankind would arrive over Cthonia with her fleet. Hathor’s true destiny awaited her, and her Moonbeam would be right there beside her until the bitter end.

Art Link 1: https://pin.it/7fsNRPdnb

Art Link 2: https://pin.it/5peIhsCOB

Morticia’s pod would land on the world of Barbarus, a desolate world where even the very air was a poisonous fume. What little grew was hoarded by the Necromancer overlords that ruled Barbarus with an iron fist. And it was one such Necromancer overlord that would find Morticia’s pod not far from his keep. Or rather, it was the people of the village that rested near the foothills of the Necromancer’s keep that found Morticia’s pod. But, sensing Morticia’s raw psychic power, the Overlord quickly had the infant Primarch seized and brought to him. And there in his keep, the Necromancer began his study and experimentation of Morticia.

For many years, Morticia was used, often again her will, as a test-subject by her adoptive-father as he used her blood to create deadly bio-weapons that he would ultimately use against the other Necromancer overlords. From such cruelty and mistreatment, Morticia’s hatred for psykers and magic as a whole was born. So she began to resist her adoptive-father however she could; mostly by sabotaging his work, and leaking bits and pieces of his plans to the various rebel cells on the planet under the alias of Lily. But, this was only a temporary solution to a much larger issue. Morticia would not rest until every last Necromancer overlord on Barbarus was dethroned. Her adoptive-father most of all.

Morticia would make her escape when her adoptive-father had secluded himself in his anti-chamber. What he did in there, Morticia didn’t want to imagine. All she knew was that a cadre of his guards entered with him, but they never came back out. Pushing such dark thoughts into the recesses on her mind, Morticia used the labyrinthine tunnels that ran under the keep to make her escape. By the time she made it out the other side, she was covered in filth, but she was free, at least for now. Morticia knew it wouldn’t be long before her adoptive-father sent riders after her, so she stripped naked, placing her filth covered clothes on a decomposing feminine corpse that could vaguely pass off as her. But now she faced a new challenge, she was completely naked and vulnerable on a planet where everything wanted to use or kill you. If she didn’t want to find herself at the non-existent mercy of bandits or desperate villagers, she needed to move quickly.

For days, Morticia wandered through the dark forest that dotted the landscape around the foothills of her adoptive-father’s keep. And in an effort to stave off hypothermia, Morticia used mud and foliage to cover herself. But food was scarce in the dark forest. If Morticia was lucky she feasted on rat, if not, which was more often the case, she went hungry. But due to her nature as a Primarch, she didn’t need to eat or drink as regularly as a normal human.

Eventually, Morticia would find her way to a village that rested just outside her adoptive-father’s domain. The people of the village, upon seeing the giant pale woman covered in mud and foliage, thought she was a wraith until they watched her collapse to the ground. Still believing her dangerous, many of the people of the village chose to ignore the unconscious Primarch except for one man. The village alchemist, a man simply known as Viktor. With the aid of his assistant, Igor, Viktor took Morticia to his home where he cleaned and clothed her properly. For days, Morticia would remain unconscious until one of the few days in Barbarus when the poisonous clouds parted allowing the sun to shine down on the planet. At first, Morticia believed she had been captured by her adoptive-father’s men until she met Viktor.

Understandably confused, Morticia demanded answers from Viktor who provided them as best he could. Though Morticia was wary of Viktor as she sensed his psychic power. Yet, unlike her adoptive-father, there was no malicious aura around Viktor. Nevertheless she remained wary of him, watching him as he tried to use his psychic gifts to restore life to the decaying planet. Morticia thought he was a fool. Nothing pure grew on Barbarus. It was a fact of life that people had long since accepted. But not Viktor. He refused to give up, and one night while in his workshop, he finally succeeded. Overjoyed, he rushed to find Morticia, and showed her the healthy lily flower that had grown in his clay pot.

Seeing Viktor’s profound joy and pride in such a small, beautiful victory, Morticia finally accepted that Viktor was not like the Necromancer overlords that ruled Barbarus. It was then that she decided to inform Viktor of her plan to overthrow the Necromancer overlords that ruled Barbarus. Viktor, in that moment, realized that Morticia was just as mad as he was, so he agreed to help her however he could. The villagers, on the other hand, were less keen to help Viktor and Morticia. For what little it was worth, they had peace. All they had to do was occasionally give a blood tithe to their overlord, and she left them alone for the most part.

Morticia was enraged by their cowardice, but Viktor explained it was simply human nature to do whatever it took to survive. Regardless if Viktor was right or wrong, Morticia had her first target. Together with Viktor’s help, Morticia invaded the Necromancer matron’s tower in the dead of night while the matron dined with her cadre.

Viktor and Morticia would wait in the shadows until the matron and her cadre were thoroughly drunk, and that’s when Morticia and Viktor struck. Drunk and caught by surprise, the matron’s cadre was quickly cut down by Viktor and Morticia leaving only the matron left, who had only pretended to be drunk. She knew they were there in the shadows the whole time, she only waited until now because she wanted the pleasure of killing Morticia and Viktor herself. But the matron underestimated Morticia’s untapped power, and quickly paid for her arrogance when Morticia used the matron’s own scythe to kill her.

When Morticia and Viktor returned to the village with the matron’s severed head and the heads of her cadre, the people realized for the first time in generations that their overlords weren’t the invincible god-king they made themselves out to be. They were mortal just like the rest of them, and everything that bled could be killed. You just needed the right weapon for the job, and no small amount of motivation. Regardless, the embers of rebellion and hope had once again been stoked in the hearts of the people, and as Viktor and Morticia traveled across Barbarus, liberating the people from the yoke of their overlords, the embers of rebellion and hope blazed to life in a glorious inferno. And, it seemed that with every necromancer that fell, the planet healed a little more every time.

After a decade of fighting only one necromancer remained. Morticia’s adoptive-father. But on the eve of what was to be the final battle, a golden woman appeared before Morticia. She revealed herself as the Empress of Mankind and Morticia’s true mother. She also came with a warning for Morticia. Her adoptive-father was not the same man he was when she had escaped over a decade ago. He was a daemon prince of the plague god Nurgle and his dark fortress was now surrounded by a nigh impenetrable miasma of plague-fog.

However, believing she could endure the plague-fog, Morticia went alone to confront her adoptive-father and end this once and for all. But as she neared the foothills of his dark fortress, the plague-fog, which was no ordinary fog but a living bio-weapon attacked Morticia, filling her lungs with its poisonous fumes. She would’ve perished if not for the Empress’s intervention, but she now needed to wear a respirator to breathe properly. But that wasn’t what stung Morticia the most. It was that her so-called mother had stolen her vengeance. Morticia’s only consolation was that she still had her Lily at her side, and for now, that was all she needed.

Masters of the Dune

Art Link 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/Warhammer40k/comments/zrfssk/female_sanguinius_drawn_by_ryuseir/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1

Art Link 2: https://pin.it/2Ds7TI19z

When Sanguinia’s pod landed on the desolate world of Baal Secundus, she was found outside a nearby village by a group of natives. Seeing her golden hair and pure white wings, Sanguinia’s arrival on Baal was hailed by the people who found her as a sign from the gods. For countless generations the people of the nameless village had struggled to survive, both due to the inhospitable nature of the planet, and the other tribes that called Baal Secundus home.

Sanguinia grew up faster than any of the villagers had expected to her to, and as she grew older and matured, so too did her beauty and grace. Before long, word of the angel-woman spread across the desolate planes of Baal Secundus like a violent sandstorm, and not all who sought her out did so with pure intentions in mind. But they underestimated Sanguinia’s raw power as a Primarch. All who sought to harm her and the villagers who raised her were quickly and mercilessly dealt with by Sanguinia herself.

Overtime, Sanguinia became increasingly wary of strangers who wandered into her village, but would not turn them away if they truly needed aid. That is how she met her Dove, Kanan. Unlike Sanguinia, Kanan had no people to call his own. Not since a group of raiders came to his village and slaughtered all its inhabitants, leaving him the sole survivor. Since then, Kanan has sought revenge against the raiders who took everything from him, and when he heard tales of Sanguinia’s power from the various caravans he attached himself to, Kanan knew he had to see her for himself.

The journey to Sanguinia’s village was long and filled with tribulation, but it was nothing Kanan hadn’t endured before. Or, at least that’s what he initially believed. The journey was much harder than Kanan could’ve ever imagined. Between fighting off the various monsters and raiders that called the sands of Baal Secundus home, he also had to fight the planet itself. Within three days, his water supply which was meant to last him an entire week, was gone while his food was quickly running out. Nevertheless, Kanan pushed on until his body finally gave out. That’s when Sanguinia found him a day’s march from her village.

Taking him into her arms, Sanguinia flew him back to her village and helped nurse Kanan back to health. When Kanan was finally lucid enough to speak in complete sentences, he found himself speechless. He had heard the rumors surrounding Sanguinia’s beauty, but they paled in comparison to her true beauty and grace. Most of the time when people stared at her, Sanguinia felt a certain awkwardness or unease, but it was not so with Kanan. It was endearing and flattering.

Over the next week, as Kanan recovered, Sanguinia found herself more and more drawn to Kanan. She listens to his story and he listened to hers, and the two quickly found that they enjoyed the other’s company. Kanan, for one, had begun to smile and laugh again, something he never thought possible. And Sanguinia, for the first time in her life, felt truly seen. Seen not as a demigoddess or any other otherworldly epithet people placed on her, but a person. A person with fears and desires, and just as human as the rest of them.

By the time Kanan was well enough to travel again, the same raiders who had laid waist to Kanan’s tribe had come to do the same to Sanguinia’s. Together, Sanguinia and Kanan fought side by side against the raiders with the other villagers able enough to fight. The fight did not last long, but by the end, Sanguinia knew with cold certainty that things could not persist the way they have been. If Baal Secundus was to know peace, it needed to be tamed first. And with Kanan’s aid, Sanguinia set about uniting the tribes of Baal Secundus under one banner. The banner of the hawk.

The process was long and difficult and filled with setbacks and victories alike. But throughout it all, Kanan never strayed from Sanguinia’s side, nor she from his. And when the task was finally complete, Sanguinia allowed herself to be selfish just once, and married Kanan. And together they ruled the tribes of Baal Secundus as husband and wife. Masters of the dune.

Video link: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DbME4arB_Yq/?igsh=MTB5dHU5MmE5c21qdg==

Drinking with Slayer isn’t an option. It’s a requirement. Unfortunately, Centurion had to find that out the hard way when he insisted he had to finish his paperwork before he could drink with Slayer.

Art link: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/rrdzG

Since Leona entered her deep slumber at the end of the heresy, Squire has stood vigilantly at the entrance to her resting place for the past 10,000 years. In that time, the Fallen and Chaos-daemons alike have all tried and failed to kill the Primarch of the First Legion. None shall pass, and none ever will, Squire will see to that.

Art source: https://pin.it/1bNYSmB1y

Since Leona entered her deep slumber at the end of the heresy, Squire has stood vigilantly outside her place of rest for the past 10,000 years. In that time, Fallen and Chaos-daemons alike have tried to enter Leona’s place of rest to finish off the Primarch of the First Legion, but none have ever succeeded. And none ever will, Squire will see to that.

Art link: https://pin.it/9LRwK1SYk

After the heresy ended, Lover dawned his ancient armor and journeyed into the Warp through the Eye of Terror. No matter the cost, he would get his daughters back. And the chaos gods who stole them from him will soon learn there is nothing more devastating or terrifying than a father’s righteous fury.