- Last Activity:
- Mar 24, 2020
- Feb 7, 2015
- Likes Received:
- Trophy Points:
- (US) New York
- T3/T1 Transport specialist
Share This Page
Baalberith Koh (Lorgars-Faithful)
First Blood!, from (US) New York
(None) Feb 23, 2016
- Lorgars-Faithful was last seen:
- Mar 24, 2020
- (US) New York
- T3/T1 Transport specialist
- Sons of Lorgar
Yes commander, I will tell you my history. I have reported it many times to many faithful, but it
- Display Name:
- Baalberith Koh
will be up to you to decide its truth.
I know what you wish to ask and as ever, I will answer… I knew her… not the stories of her, but
when she walked these worlds in flesh and radiance… our Blessed Lady… Cyrene Valentien, the
living saint, first martyr and confessor, though it pains me to speak her name.
Yes, commander… I was there when our Blessed Lady walked these worlds… I was there on the
black sands of Istvaan, when Corax’s hateful claws rent my body asunder… I walked our
flagship above Nuceria and felt the waves of it’s planet crash against me like a hammer blow.”
I have battled for centuries, commander, over countless worlds and against innumerable foes, my
promises of old kept and duty unfulfilled. But make no mistake… My pact will be completed. I
will make these worlds and everything on them suffer and will not stop until the stars weep fire
at the loss of the living saint, not for Lorgar Aurelian, or for the Lords of the Warp, but for her.
It has always been for her…
I shall start at the beginning.
It is not widely known that I stood with Argel Tal as one of his first chosen Vakrah Jal and was
with him when our father ordered us into the Great Eye. Our eyes, at that time, were shut to the
horrifying truth of the universe. When the great daemon Ingethel descended upon us, I remember
being held up like a child's toy, but before the killing strike came, our souls silently conversed.
Ingethel and his great masters showed me then what was in store for our Blessed Lady, the good
works she would do, the faith she would create, and what the false emperor of mankind would
have done to her.
It was then that our dark bargain was struck.
You must understand, in those old days when our great rebellion was only a distant plan, the
lords of the warp were quick to grant our desires. To prove that an existence beyond what we
knew was possible and guarantee our devotion, our gifts were numerous. But their prophecies
could not be altered.
Upon being struck with that cold truth, that no matter what I did, who I told or how hard I
fought, Cyrene Valentien would be murdered, my mind turned to anger and despair. Rather than
wishing for the power to save her, I asked only for the opportunity to punish all those responsible
for her death… Everyone, regardless of the severity of their involvement would burn. Such was
the depth of our love for the first martyr.
Although it was Ingethel that spoke the words, the lords of the warp were present, and it was they who
made the offer, sweet as poison, eternal as hate.
Khorne crushed my throat in his grip and seethed to me through clenched teeth.
“I offer you freedom…
…freedom from the leaden mortal heart. A hurricane of hatred will shred your every sadness, cast aside your every regret, dry every tear that has touched the memory of your face. Brutality shall be your single key that opens all doors; dismemberment of sorrow shall be the only language you speak between your brothers and sisters.
…freedom from the feeble mortal mind. The shackles of uncertainty will be torn from your arms and legs by rage. You shall sprint the straight path of unending vengeance for every wrong that has been dealt to you, and every wrong that may yet be. Your hatred will require no justification, as none but I shall judge you; obedience the only question, blood the only answer.
…freedom from weakness. Those frailties that are inside you, I shall gut from you. Your fear will tumble in wet, slippery coils about your feet, your solitude will fountain from you first, then pour, then drip into a sticky pool upon the ground.
I will craft your bones from blasphemy, your blood shall be as wine. You will cleave the flesh as poetry. The skulls, I claim as mine.”
Grandfather Nurgle took me in his arms, and I choked and suffocated under the dripping blankets of fat, dead slough that hung from his loving embrace.
“I offer you that which is eternal…
…an eternal body. No more shall your flesh plead with that usurer, Time, and beg forbearance like a pitiable, kneeling whore. Your love for me will defy Nature, and let it envy you my favor, most precious child. Death shall be the medals that you wear, and rot shall be your vestments.
…an eternal purpose. Wherever there be life, so there shall I send you to spread my joyous boon. Forever shall you battle the ending of all things, forever shall you be counted among my embalmers, preserving that which has been maligned to die. With my fetid nectars you shall rescue all things and cask them for all millennia.
…eternal companionship. The cells of cancer divide in their own image, pleased at their endless mirroring, rejoicing at infinite family. Veins of decay cry out ‘come, be with us!’ and hasten others to their coterie. So, too, shall those you touch become like you, as I touch you, you shall become like me.”
Tzeentch stood before me as something that could never be known. I heard him with my eyes as he spoke in math and memories.
“I offer you transformation…
…transformation of all the worlds. Death will turn to rose-petals, screams will turn to song. Your feet, greaved in secrets, shall tread bridges of worship that stretch across the gulf between that which has been condemned to die and that which has been condemned to live.
…transformation of truth. That which cannot be done shall throw itself at your feet and perform like a frightened servant. That which is impossible shall hang about your neck like a charm meant to play with errant sunlight. Your words will shape the stone. Your lies shall choose the color of the sky.
…transformation of you. As you were empty, I fill you with void. As you were small, I place the universe in your palm. As you were meaningless, I reform you as the answer to all questions.”
The fingers of Slaanesh breathed seductions up my neck.
“I offer you pleasure…
…the pleasure of that which you have always desired. Your dreams will be fashioned into living flesh and will ravage a blood-soaked war upon each other to compete for which one might be allowed to satisfy you first. Wealth will turn to ash between your fingers, praise will fade into oblivion, as those two paths to pleasure require aeons of waiting compared to the singularity of rapture in which you shall instantly reside.
…the pleasure of that which you could never desire. Your heart will be shaped into a thing that loves ten-thousand sorrows, your tongue will be taught the secret tastes of anguish. Your soul will be remade into a light that rejoices at despair, and you will drink the prayers of those who beg for you to die.
…the pleasure of agony, the agony that captures one glittering instant of time and unfurls it into an unending infinity. Your flesh, your mind, will be illuminated by the realization that the discarded, careless moments wherein you drew a breath, the moments when you blinked your eyes, were golden, cherished, haloed, honey-drenched ecstasy, due only to their freedom from the suffering that I will gift to you.
That was the offer that the dark gods made, and with every atom of my body and every spark within my soul, I agreed.
Of the many, many times that I have died,
surely, that was the first.