agentmanatee

In the Emperor's name we shall not falter! (A warhammer 40k roleplay. Featuring space marines!)

Head chaplain/reclusiarch checking in

In the Emperor's name We shall not falter

I would like to take either the role of Head Chaplain or a Veteran Sergeant

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

So uh... who's working on a post?

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

Did it

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

An unfortunate arrival

The warp, the Imaterium, a deadly and mysterious place where thought was made reality. Not a place one would want to hurtle through in a heavily damaged ship, which was the situation Azazel and his disciples were currently in. The Strike cruiser that had carried him and his steadily shrinking retinue had made one last hop to warp, attempting to escape their previous pursuers in spite of the blood the marines sought. Once a brotherhood of about thirty marines now they numbered five. The bridge was covered in corpses and spattered heavily with blood as the five Corsairs panted shudderingly, some grasping at their skulls. Bravis stood stock still in the center of the bridge, two dead Corsairs on either side of his feet. Azazel himself stood amongst the torn wreckage of what was once a Captains chair, now a twisted and ruined mess of leather and steel. His chain-sword idled, still dripping blood while his boltguns barrel still smoked. His blood spattered helm was focused on the large bridge window, looking out into the roiling empyrean as he panted heavily...

'Screams... blood... blood screams... quiet now... ggrrrrrrr... pounding ears... increased heart rates... still... need... relief... subjects...', he glanced about the bridge as his thoughts encroached in on him once more. All their foes were dead, only his pupils remained... subjects... no. Even the surgeries could not force him to butcher his own students and he had not the time for tests now. He stepped from raised dais down onto the deck proper. What Mortal crew still lived seemed quite injured... but they were not finished.

"Sssstaus flesh! Now!", the Dark Apothecary growled to any human able to respond.

"S-s-ship in warp transit L-lord Azazel... Gellar fields f-failing... destination unsure, y-you had us jump withou-"

The marine snarled and smashed a fist into the panel next to the sniveling human, "Who-who ordered a random jump?!", he said, glaring through his helmet at the man who shied away from the Chaos Space marine. "y-you did sir after k-k-kil-ing the c-c-c-c-c-aptain..."

Azazel glanced back at the Captains chair, now seeing the horrendously ruined body which he had no doubt trampled upon heavily to get down to the crew pit. Slowly it came back to him between shattered memories that were not his...

'C-captain refused order... s-suicide it was... crushed bod- BLOOD BLOOD BLOO- body... paste... BLOOD... sh=ship jumped... th-then FOR BADAB AND HURON!', the last was his, on the eve of Badabs siege... he thought... or maybe it was someone else? Where was he?

He looked around the bridge... he was on a ship... in the warp... they were going t-

Suddenly everything stopped. A great, loud sound of tearing steel and smashing bulk-heads bled the ears of every human still alive as the cacophony filled the air. The Marines mag locked their boots on instinct, humans were not so lucky. Any not strapped in flew at intense speed against walls, consoles and even the bridge window. They screamed as bones and organs were pulped in an instant from the extreme and sudden loss of speed. By the time the stretching, screaming metal had settled no humans were left alive on the bridge as those strapped in were folded around their restraints like so much paper. The bridge window strained and warped before popping, scything glass shredding any nearby humans and scratching astartes power armor.

Azael looked once more at the window... battle!

Bolters... fire... screams and shouts... he saw them, a group of lifeforms now just outside the window. The ship had re-materalised inside of another ship and now they were right next to a fight.

"SCREAMING BLOOD! IT FILLS MY HEAD! STOP STOP IT!", Azazel screamed out through his vox. The pounding in his ears... it was back. His head was flush, it was pounding like ten thousand drums. Blood screaming... he had to release it. They had to lose blood!

"IT MUST BE SILEEEENNCCCCEEED!", his war-cry was taken up by his pupils, five Marines rushing through the now broken bridge window into the room of the Space hulk, blades and barrels raised for combat. Azazel and his pupils charged the zealous sisters, screaming their oaths for blood and screams. Azazel answered their fire with his own, using one hand he emptied what was left of his clip into the sisters, firing wildly into the group as he closed the distance, whirring blade seeking purchase.

It found it, tugging deep into one of the power armoured women, chewing through her abdomen and spraying gore as guts were ripped out with a scream. Azazel wheeled around to her once more, cracking his power armoured knee against her face-plate, cracks spider-webbing along it from the point of impact.

"DIE CORPSE WORSHIPPERS! DIE AND QUIET THE SCREAMING BLOOD! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!", he cackled as his pupils rushed their own targets. From one combat to another, with more screaming, foul blood.

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

@BCTheEntity writing it now!

Also just noticed something interesting

Azazel and his pupils are the only modern marines here

You guys have ALOT to catch up on

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

@BCTheEntity what do you mean a 'non-starter'?

@Wraithblade6 You should

Also, anyone have an idea for introducing him into this that makes sense?

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

@BCTheEntity Yes he still has his helmet and often wears it, But also takes it off sometimes.

As for his 'flipping out' he... well I wouldn't say he has a handle on it but usually he can tell friend from foe

...usually

oh yea if he uh... says he can 'improve you' or wants to run any 'tests' just... just don't... its a bad idea... trust me

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

Azazel Morias

⟡ ⟡ ⟡

< Azazel Morias >
^{❰ Male ❱}

_{A G E}

123 Standard Years

_{F A C T I O N / R A C E / S P E C I E S}

Chaos Space Marine

_{S U B - F A C T I O N}

Red Corsairs

_{R A N K / P O S I T I O N}

Champion, Dark Apothecary

_{M E N T A L A N D P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S}

A Space marine is the peak of human ability. they are faster, stronger and more prepared to face a hostile universe and spit in its face. Often in the Imperium they are referred to as Angels, the demigod sons of the Emperor who protect all of humanity from the horrors of the universe. They are stated to be paragons of honor, virtue and strength; monastic Knights dedicated to the protection of the weak and fearful. They are the Imperiums ultimate protectors, trained from worthy children and implanted with super-human organs to boost their trained abilities to a level unreachable by the common man. Then their minds are fortified through hypnosis, indoctrination and conditioning to form a great bulwark against corruption and the vices of man.

But even the strongest bulwark may fail, for any wall can be breached and none fall quite from the Godly heights of the Adeptus Astartes. To be given the body of a demigod, and turn it to ones personal gain is to betray all the Astartes stand for. These warriors, free of their ascetic shackles, indulge in all they could ever want. Inevitably however, these super-humans return to war for their bodies are forged for the crucible of conflict. Fire, death and the screams of the dying for them are a true home.

For Azazel experience is everything. Sadistic, curious and enraged Azazel is a madman. Once an Apothecary, a healer, with the Astral Claws betrayal, secession and renunciation of the Imperium no longer did he need to shackle himself. He is obsessed with study of the body, especially that of Astartes. He is known to capture a foe occasionally, an Astarte of some loyalist chapter only to dissect, test and stretch his physical capabilities all for the sake of his own insatiable thirst for knowledge... though now it is just as much the red hue of their blood or the way their gore writhes in their cavities.

He, like many other Space marines fallen to chaos and residing in the Immaterium, has taken his hobbies to obsession. The anatomy of life and how best to end it quickly or slowly, as well as how to improve upon and tinker with it is his obsession made manifest. Every enemy is a new test subject, every piece of meat or flesh a canvas on which to create a masterpiece. Every genome a new avenue for exploration, and every human a perfect vessel for possession and experimentation... truly he has fallen far from once lofty heights.

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

Being a Space marine Azazel is a fair seven and a half feet tall and far thicker in shoulder than any mortal man. His skin is oddly pale and often streaked with creases and marks of one who has not slept in some time, tired but excitable. His eyes small points which dart frantically from place to place as if always searching for something. His mouth is often either pulled into a wide, rictus grin or a small, muttering position. His once smooth brown hair is matted and messy, now removed from much of the back of his skull from his... 'enhancement'. On the back of his head and seemingly crawling up his skull is an amalgamation of technology and warp power that could make stomachs churn. Long brass cords running beneath the skin, actuators and readouts obscured by glowing runes and crude etchings as the machinery seems to pulse with the tainted and agitated flesh all around it. This invasive surgery may be the reason for the rest of his ghastly appearance.

_{W A R G E A R}

His wargear has remained largely unchanged for centuries, even now. Wearing a full set of MK.6 'Corvus' Power armor decently maintained and still in the red and black livery of the Red corsairs, his helmet with a tall red top-knot and strange, archaic markings all over its 'beak'. He has begun to scratch kill markings into the armor, the tally is currently only on the bottom edge of his pauldron but numbers already near eighty marks. His weapons seem rather ordinary for a marine by and large, a boltgun and chainsword, standard and previously quite well kept. Recently it has not been uncommon for the blood of combat to be allowed to simply dry upon the weapons... until the rare moments of clarity that grips the marine take over and he scubs them until his fingers are bleeding. His Narthecium is still intact and well maintained, if used for killing as often as saving now.

_{H I S T O R Y}

The Red Corsiars, oncce known as the Astral Claws, are a notoriously piratical group of Chaos Space marines with wildly different devotions to Chaos and others. Azazel was indeed once an Apothecary for the Astral Claws before their Heresy, which he wholeheartedly supported being one of the early adopters of destroying Imperial Iconography with red paint, the reason for the Corsairs name. Always an early adopter Azazel embraced the worship of all four gods wholeheartedly and with excitement, if not zeal. He was perhaps most loyal to the Prince of Pleasure and his rival, Khorne. His sadistic, specific way of experimentation and curiosity appealed to Slaanesh, whilst his thirst for blood and combat was paid to the Red God. He embraced his new freedom, offering any marine who sought it enhancement at the cost of free experimentation. Combining technology, anatomy, sorcerer and Daemonology truly horrific and deadly monstrosities came from his workshops. The Dark Apothecary even began to accrue a number of acolytes, pupils who wished to learn at his feet.

Throughout this time he had researched a particular surgery, one that he believed paramount to the Corsairs, the vaunted Berserker Surgery, one which turned marines into near mindless killing machines. For all his career, even before the heresy this operation had intrigued him, and now he could practice upon nigh endless subjects. Eventually he was able to capture a Khornate Berserker alive, using him to reverse engineer what had so thoroughly pledged his soul to Khorne. Thought it took many weeks, much screaming and many missteps Azazel was able to aapproach his Captain with wondrous news, he beleived he had perfected a bastardized version of the procedure and wished to grant his leader with Berserkers... for a certain price. This excitemnt led to his downfall, for he had shared his findings with his brightest pupil, who had already offered the captain the same deal, but for far less than his teacher asked for.

With thism the Captain had Azazel and his most Loyaly pupils detained, and declared to be the first test subjects of the Doctors new and miraculous 'breakthrough'. This would turn out to be a terrible mistake. Perhaps Azazel had overestimated his genius, or perhaps all his notes had not been found, or maybe his apprentice was simply less talented than he. For whatever reason, things went wrong quickly. Once the procedures were complete the subjects went wild with rage as expected, but it was not aimless or declared for the Blood God. Instead they were driven mad by visions of marines they did not know and battles they hadn't fought or held on to their spite. Azazel and his newly minted Berserker pupils cut a bloody swathe through his old Friends ship, murdering all that came near them, culminating in the death of his captain and the dissolution of his pirate fleet. However, his stat pupil had been mysteriously absent, and so lost in their maddening rage were the marines that they could not stop their warp jump into the void.

Noe, Azazel and his surviving pupils are adrift and aimless, their rage and petty lust for vengeance aimless and plagued by terrible madness. They seek salvation, and Azazel still cuts up foe after foe on and off the field, seeking a way to stop the maddening visions and voices in his head... if only he could see through all the blood... so much blood...

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

Checking in. Character should be ready tonight. May be changing to a Red Corsair exile but we'll just have to see!