Post by Hellbrass Odesseron on Jun 5, 2005 14:49:27 GMT
The Galaxy stood divided. The righteous forces of the Emperor shrank in fear before the coming of the Warmaster, bringer of death and destruction; the one who called himself the so-called “new Emperor” and had committed countless billions to the worship of the foul natures that are the Chaos Gods. Anger, Illness, Power and Pleasure, the four entities that have always been and always would be the undoing of each and every nation to live.
Chaos prepared for its deathblow against the war worn and depleted armies of the Emperor, the one beacon of light shining out in the immatrium amid a sea of blackest evil. Once again the Eldar looked on and witnessed the destruction of hope for once their empire too had stretched across the stars. In their time they had battled Star-Gods and fought against the legions of Death itself, the Necrotyr but despite all this they had failed to stand against the forces of Chaos. The baleful powers were all consuming and immortal, impervious to weapons of worldly origins.
We looked on and despaired for with mankind our hope of a final victory for light was dieing. All knew this but yet not one Eldar raised a blade in defence of this Mon-Keigh Emperor. We had played the game and lost and now humankind would follow suit, Chaos would rule supreme. Yet, to our astonishment even as the foul and bloated legions of Chaos descended upon the home world of the Mon-Keigh and all light of good was extinguished from the warp the Emperors guiding flame still burnt brightly. This man-God, this one undying ruler of humanity stood as the universe, both real and immaterial rallied against him and whilst even his most faithful and closest friends and allies fell to their knees he fought on.
We watched from afar as the endless creatures of evil swept over the defences of the Mon-Keigh fortresses, stone by stone even their great imperial palace began to fall. We despaired and many tears were shed for we were sure that this would be the end of all things good but yet even as the chosen of the powers of evil drew near and this Warmaster, this bringer of corruption entered orbit the man-God still did not give up hope of victory and triumph over evil.
Every Craftworlder held their breath as the Mon-Keigh Emperor ascended through battle torn skies of his home world towards the unholy ship of the destroyer of light. We looked on at an event that took seconds as if it took an eternity and more. His armour shining in the light of the teleport beam, face uplifted we saw him ascending like an angel to heaven towards that twisted hull. In disbelieve we looked on as good smote evil to the ground and Chaos was pushed back from the brink of victory, but at what cost? The man-God now sits upon his throne, not dead but yet still not alive. At first his will was ever present and by the force of it he guided his nation back into the light but now, now his will is dieing and the cost of keeping that immortal light burning in the ether is becoming to great to pay.
Mankind’s saviour and the hope of the Galaxy sits immobile on earth. His will in the warp sustained by the souls of a thousand Mon-Keigh psykers whilst his life force is still bound to his body. A state of existence that takes its toll on even the strongest and most pure of wills. Mon-Keigh forget the past, they remember only war and violence, victory and defeat. They no longer remember the true power of the Emperor and they no longer know his purpose in this world. For the sake of all let is hope that a remembrance is visited upon them soon or it may be to late for all, not just them.
Chaos prepared for its deathblow against the war worn and depleted armies of the Emperor, the one beacon of light shining out in the immatrium amid a sea of blackest evil. Once again the Eldar looked on and witnessed the destruction of hope for once their empire too had stretched across the stars. In their time they had battled Star-Gods and fought against the legions of Death itself, the Necrotyr but despite all this they had failed to stand against the forces of Chaos. The baleful powers were all consuming and immortal, impervious to weapons of worldly origins.
We looked on and despaired for with mankind our hope of a final victory for light was dieing. All knew this but yet not one Eldar raised a blade in defence of this Mon-Keigh Emperor. We had played the game and lost and now humankind would follow suit, Chaos would rule supreme. Yet, to our astonishment even as the foul and bloated legions of Chaos descended upon the home world of the Mon-Keigh and all light of good was extinguished from the warp the Emperors guiding flame still burnt brightly. This man-God, this one undying ruler of humanity stood as the universe, both real and immaterial rallied against him and whilst even his most faithful and closest friends and allies fell to their knees he fought on.
We watched from afar as the endless creatures of evil swept over the defences of the Mon-Keigh fortresses, stone by stone even their great imperial palace began to fall. We despaired and many tears were shed for we were sure that this would be the end of all things good but yet even as the chosen of the powers of evil drew near and this Warmaster, this bringer of corruption entered orbit the man-God still did not give up hope of victory and triumph over evil.
Every Craftworlder held their breath as the Mon-Keigh Emperor ascended through battle torn skies of his home world towards the unholy ship of the destroyer of light. We looked on at an event that took seconds as if it took an eternity and more. His armour shining in the light of the teleport beam, face uplifted we saw him ascending like an angel to heaven towards that twisted hull. In disbelieve we looked on as good smote evil to the ground and Chaos was pushed back from the brink of victory, but at what cost? The man-God now sits upon his throne, not dead but yet still not alive. At first his will was ever present and by the force of it he guided his nation back into the light but now, now his will is dieing and the cost of keeping that immortal light burning in the ether is becoming to great to pay.
Mankind’s saviour and the hope of the Galaxy sits immobile on earth. His will in the warp sustained by the souls of a thousand Mon-Keigh psykers whilst his life force is still bound to his body. A state of existence that takes its toll on even the strongest and most pure of wills. Mon-Keigh forget the past, they remember only war and violence, victory and defeat. They no longer remember the true power of the Emperor and they no longer know his purpose in this world. For the sake of all let is hope that a remembrance is visited upon them soon or it may be to late for all, not just them.