Disciples of the Dark Lords
Kor Erebus, Apostle of the Word Bearers
Son of Lorgar, Devoted to the Gods, Last of the Sect of Ekodas
Athletics, Command, Common Lore (War), Forbidden Lore (Adeptus Astartes), Forbidden Lore (Horus Heresy), Forbidden Lore (Long War), Linguistics (Low Gothic), Navigation (Surface), Operate (Surface), Parry, Scholastic Lore (Occult), Scrutiny
Talents and Traits:
Iron Discipline, Air of Authority, Lesser Minion of Chaos, Amphibious
Power Armor Traits:
- Sustainable Power Source
- Enhanced Ceramite Plating
- Customization – Chain bandoliers
Bolt Pistol, Power Mace, Combat Knife, Legion Power armor, 4 Bolt Pistol mags
“From the fires of Betrayal unto the blood of revenge we bring the name of Lorgar, the Bearer of the Word, the favored Son of Chaos, all praise be given to him. From those that would not heed we offer praise to those who do, that they might turn their gaze our way and gift us with the Boon of Pain, to turn the Galaxy red with the blood, and feed the hunger of the Gods.”
- Excerpt from the three hundred and forty-first Book of Epistles of Lorgar
It may be said that the Sons of Lorgar were the first corrupters; the arch heretics. However the truth is the Emperor himself was the first heretic. The cause of his Sons destroying his empire was bore by him. His lack of interest to understand his sons caused his ultimate demise.
They say Colchis was a beautiful world; a world of devotion to worship; a world perfect for the Bearers of the Word. But when the foolish husk took Lorgar away from his people, it once again fell into a state of disrepair, a crumbling shadow of its former glory.
Then the Sons of Guilliman arrived to turn the world of Lorgar into dust. Our people died screaming as the planet tore itself apart under bombardment. A waste, as their lives were lost for nothing productive. Surely there would have been more worth in their deaths if their souls were offered to the Dark Gods…
I remember the crusades. I was just an initiate when the whispers of Kor Phaeron granted our Primarch enlightenment. I was on the field when we slaughtered the Son of Macragge on Calth. I took bliss in knowing what we were doing was for a power that deserved out attention. But soon we were routed, splintered, and lost.
Our group dwindled slowly. A constant state of next deserving brother taking our previous apostle’s rank and wargear. Unlike most, we trusted each other. Our belief in the Gods and the Word of Lorgar more powerful than our personal wants and desires. I have been told that this is strange by other renegades that I have met on my travels. These others have all tried to kill me. I know not if this is out of jealousy, rage or bigotry, but they have failed.
Being the last of my brothers has made me understand that I am doing the will of the Gods. Many have listened to my sermons, to my reading of the Word. They say my truth is undoubted, and that they will gladly lay down their lives for the Gods. Many sects and cults have been laid by me in the name of Lorgar. Some say my subterfuge rivals that of the Alpha Legionnaires. I laugh, as my only want is to perfect my craft, to spread the word. I will show that the true power of chaos is in a union of worshipping the gods, not singling one out.
My previous pilgrimage was to a planet called Pisae, as decreed by the Gods. The world was someplace I would much rather not have been. However my work must be done, and the Word must be spread.
I found a bunch of men from a trader house called Wolf in a base on the outskirts of their capital. Their lot was easy to turn, as they were disgruntled by their post and the world it was on. I told them of the true glories of chaos, and ho w I must continue my work. I left them with a copy of the Epistles of Lorgar in my own handwriting. I am sure if I ever return that their work will have converted that world to the Gods.
They offered their only warp capable shuttle. The crew was more than eager to take me anywhere. I decided it was time to finally go into the Maelstrom and meet up with my brethren. The Gods, however, decided there were a few more things I must do on my own.
For all the wisdom I offered them, their pilot was certainly dense beyond a Grox. It was obvious when we became lost in the warp. To add to this, the Gellar Field failed, and the entire crew was exposed to the warp. Normally this would be a blessing, but something in the crew’s mutation caused them to attack me. I defended myself with ease, but was now left to pilot the ship alone. Despite all my power, I do not know how to deal with such a thing as a space craft. Especially without navigation, I was lost.
Yet the Gods have their ways. A servo skull was dislodged from the cabin. As it activated, the klaxons died down. Whatever emergency protocols it did dislodged us from the warp. It announced that we were in an area called the Screaming Vortex, amidst a planted called Kurse. Once again I am given a holy assignment