Word Bearers

Heralds of Chaos

"I never wanted war. I did not care for the crusade of blood, science and falsehood I carried out. I only wanted to bring the worlds of the galaxy under the benevolent rule of the God-Emperor, my father. He, who was a god to me and countless trillions, was the epitome of humanity, His charisma and power unmatched. I would have put entire worlds to the sword if He had asked for I knew His way was the correct and true path.

That all changed after Monarchia. How foolish I was to think the Emperor, who was but a man, was a being worthy of worship and devotion. I was wrong and my sons suffered for it. For a time I despaired, not knowing my path. But Erebus and Kor Phaeron directed me to the true gods of the universe, gods that have chosen you to be their champion. I am not a commander of the degree you are, never have been and never will be, but I have brought the Primordial Truth to you and your Legion, brother. I have laid the foundation of faith, of true faith in both our Legions. I have seen these gods and their majesties with my own eyes and they are real, their power eternal. With their help we can tear down father's empire and rebuild anew atop of the ashes. You only need to pledge your allegiance to them, embrace them as divine and they will give you powers that even I cannot fathom."

-Lorgar to Fulgrim, in orbit over a mist-covered world, early M31

Origins-

Before Old Night fell upon the galaxy, destroying entire civilizations and fracturing empires into self-isolated worlds riven with strife, the world of Colchis had been a technologically advanced world, a centre of human dominance in the sector. Towers and buildings soared high into the skies for kilometres, made of metals and glass, a pinnacle of human engineering and science. But when Old Night began, the impenetrable warp-storms separated Colchis off from all contact, isolating it like so many other thousands of worlds.

Sometime after the isolation a religious order made up of priests that called themselves the Covenant came to power in the capital city Vharadesh, this Colchisian word when translated into Low Gothic meant the City of Grey Flowers. Promising a return to prosperity and peace the Covenant soon came to dominate the entire world through peaceful and, on occasion, violent conversion. A strict dogma was put into place with any deviation to it declared heresy and that person and their family burnt alive root and stem. In this way the Covenant would rule Colchis with an iron grip for thousands of years, ensuring there was a peace that became rare among Mankind's many worlds.

That was until the arrival of a fallen star. Fate would have it that the Seventeenth Primarch-son of the Emperor, who would be the most spiritually inclined out of all his brothers, would land on a planet mired in religion. The gene-capsule carrying the XVII would crash into a courtyard near one of the many monolithic cathedrals that dominated the cities across Colchis. Thousands of priests, acolytes, and zealots would bear witness to the arrival of this demigod from the heavens.

The cleric walked confidently but quickly across the inner garden of the Temple of the Four Divines. His reddish-brown garb nearly an exact replica of the clothing his fellow believers wore. What singled him out from the majority was a simple pendant of interlinking chains of wrought iron, hanging from the end was the eight pointed sigil of the Covenant, the personal embodiment of the gods if some of the older scriptures were to be believed. It was a symbol of his office. Sunlight streamed down into the garden to allow the trees and plants to flourish.

The books he was carrying in his satchel were old, incredibly old and only his position as personal secretary to the Archbishop of Vharadesh gave him access to the Restricted Library. They held such… glories in them. Stories and promises of power that was intoxicating to just read about. He had to take them to his personal chambers and hide them as the other clerics and even high priests would frown on his obsession with the past, for learning of the dark past Colchis had endured would have seen him censured at best, or worse he would be burned alive.

They did not understand. The current dogma of the Covenant was a watered down version of the True Faith. It was filtered, flawed, incomplete, but he promised himself he would open up his brethren's eyes if he was ever given a chance.

A sound of thunder clapped through the air, startling all who heard it. It did not rain on Colchis much, particularly at this time of year, but as the clergyman looked into the sky he saw no clouds or storms brewing. What he did see was a ball of fire falling like a meteorite down towards the city, heading towards the cathedral.

It roared as it fell down and crashed into the courtyard, barely missing a handful of friars who had been reading underneath one of the garden's many trees. Coming to a stop underneath a tree's foliage the fallen object revealed itself to be a metal capsule, large enough for a child or small adult. Curious as to what this was, the cleric hesitantly walked forward. The capsule seemed to suffer little in the way of damage but whatever it contained inside lay dormant. The metallic container had strange writings on it and four characters on the front in a language he had never before seen.

There was a port-hole to view what was inside. Placing his hand on the capsule he leaned over to see what lay within. His hand however seemed to activate whatever was inside before he could get a clear view. A hissing sound of escaping air accompanied the opening of the capsule door.

The cleric stepped back, amazed at what he was seeing. In his peripheral he saw that he was the only one who had approached the metallic object, the others stayed back, cautiously wary and afraid. Small hands from inside gripped the edges of its residence and pulled itself out.

The cleric gasped. The boy was beautiful and as perfect as any human could hope to be. His shaven skull perfectly shaped in proportion to his athletic body. The cleric fell to his knees before the approaching boy. Something about this youth made the submission easier, as if his very soul unconsciously demanded it.

The boy stepped away from the capsule and approached the cleric, seemingly curious. He stopped in front of the kneeling Colchisian, the rays of the sun hitting his skin making it appear the colour of gold as if his flesh was radiant.

"Who are you?" he asked in awe which caused the boy to smile. He looked at the cleric with grey eyes, full of curiosity.

The boy seemed to think about it for a moment. "I am the Seventeenth but I am also called by another. A name that springs from within yet I do not know who gave it to me."

"What is this name?"

"Lorgar," that single word seemed to enrich all around the boy and the cleric, the crowds moved in hesitantly but with amazement etched into their facial features. The boy merely nodded, unafraid, at the men and women approaching him and the tension eased and their stances relaxed, unable to resist his natural charm.

After a moment of basking in the attention of the others the boy, this Lorgar, turned back to the cleric. "What of you, my friend? What is your name?" Lorgar's voice resonated within him, the words wanting to unravel all in the clergyman's mind. He felt like he had to tell Lorgar everything and knew that this young boy, this… prophet perhaps, would understand.

Those grey eyes stared at the cleric, seemingly seeping into his mind; the potential of this child was obvious. He would be the future of the Covenant, of Colchis, a prophet of the gods themselves.

Lorgar stepped forward to the speechless cleric, placing his small but strong hands on the sides of the man's head filling him with warmth that spread through his body, relaxing him and putting him at ease. "What is your name, my friend?" Lorgar asked again, his every centimetre of being a blessing, intoxicating even.

The cleric coughed to clear his voice, the impact from Lorgar's landing had caused much of the dirt to rise in the air, irritating his throat. But at last he could reply. Looking upwards towards the boy's golden face he spoke his name.

"My name is Kor Phaeron."

Lorgar's first contact with another human being would be a lowly cleric named Kor Phaeron, who shortly after Lorgar's arrival would take the boy into his own home and raise him as his son. Kor Phaeron would become Lorgar's foster father, a fact which would lead the Imperium into a galactic wide civil war that very nearly destroyed it almost two centuries later.

Lorgar, as befit a son of the Master of Mankind, quickly assimilated into the Colchisian culture and devoured all of the historical texts, scriptures, holy works created by past saints, and studied the foundations of creating organized faith. Less than five years after his arrival Lorgar would have fully grown into his now adult body and supreme in mind, outclassing all those around him. It should be no surprise that Lorgar rose through the ranks of the Covenant's hierarchy at an astounding rate, surpassing those of weaker will and faith.

Since he came to Colchis Lorgar had been afflicted with dreams detailing him of an ancient, powerful human being who travelled the stars in exploration and conquest. He knew this Supreme Being to be his father, the Master of Mankind and the God-Emperor of the Imperium. Lorgar swore to convert the planet to the worship of the God-Emperor. His first disciple in this endeavour would be Kor Phaeron, his first and strongest supporter.

"My brothers, my sisters, hear me preach the Word!" Lorgar declared in the market of Kharephei, a large city north of Vharadesh. The citizens looked strangely at the newcomer. Lorgar had only been on Colchis for five years yet he was already a man grown, his physique exquisite and strong, surely the divine had gone into his creation thought the onlookers, moulding him to be the perfect avatar of the heavens.

He had arrived to the city only this morning and after a small breakfast and a prayer to the God-Emperor he was ready to enlighten those who had not heard of the Word of Lorgar.

Standing upon the stone base of a statue dedicated to the Old Ways, Lorgar spoke with charisma and energy that drew the eyes of men, women, and children. From the high priests of the city to the common labourer the Word of Lorgar enraptured all and they stood in mute admiration as this prophet from beyond the stars spoke to them.

"Faith has always been of Colchis and allowed it to survive the Old Night. Faith and the belief of something divine and holy are embedded not merely into our architecture, nor our education, but into our very being. Belief in a higher power flows through our veins. Citizens of Kharephei, you may not know me other than the 'Prophet of Vharadesh', and you will be wary of what I have to say for the words I speak goes against the teachings of the Covenant."

Lorgar watched the crowd's reaction. He had thirty guards with him, which stood sentry behind with his foster father beside him. He knew he needed no guard, they were unnecessary in his opinion, but Kor Phaeron thought otherwise. No matter, Lorgar could tell there would be no violence here, these people listened and the Seventeenth Son could see them turning from their old faith to the one he created and now preached for.

He was an excellent orator, he had a natural affinity for it, his voice carrying across the central market yet he did not raise it. All those in attendance hung on his every word for the next two hours, their routines and duties temporarily forgotten.

The crowd grew as others in the city came to hear of the Prophet and his Word. Many thousands the day before had been of the Covenant of the Old Ways but after that single speech by him, the Prophet of Vharadesh, the people of Kharephei became willing converts to Lorgar's Covenant of the New Faith, the Godsworn.

Now was time to end his fervour-filled speech, "Remember, my brothers and sisters, we will be ridiculed by the old theocracy, for they are set in their ways and blind to the future our truth will bring, but for us to change their minds to the correct path we must show them the power of our faith, our dedication to the God-Emperor. When my father arrives to our world we will be ready to embrace Him as the One True God and His benevolence will ensure our world a place of prestige and become centre stage of the Church of the Emperor in His Imperium," Lorgar looked around the crowd, their eyes locked on him, "Who's with me?"

The yells of affirmations, and the pumping of fists into the air to declare fealty to him gave him great satisfaction. Lorgar raised his hands, palms upturned as if reaching toward the heavens, as if inviting the future that was to come.

"Sons and daughters of the Emperor," Lorgar turned to look at Kor Phaeron who nodded at his foster son, "Blessed be the Word!"

"Blessed be the Word! Blessed be the Word! Blessed be the Word!" the throats of thousands chorused as Lorgar walked down amongst them to embrace their love and devotion.

After barely a decade of speaking of the glories and wonders to come with the imminent arrival of the Emperor the Covenant had been divided into two distinct but powerful factions. The largest and most powerful in military strength was the Covenant of the Old Ways while Lorgar's Covenant of the New Faith, called the Godsworn, was smaller, but if anything more zealous with better leadership and organization. Both jockeyed for power, the Synod of the Covenant threatened and lynched some of Lorgar's followers when caught but the primarch refused to submit to violence. He truly believed that if he peacefully approached the matter he could convert all of Colchis with a minimum of bloodshed and destruction.

The highest elders of the Covenant saw this 'Prophet of Vharadaesh' as a threat to their power base and beliefs. In secret they met and planned to kill this wayward individual. Gathering their armies they marched to the house Lorgar shared with Kor Phaeron. But as the Army of the Covenant approached they found the house empty and abandoned.

Lorgar, his foster father, and scores of Godsworn followers had escaped the City of Grey Flowers only a few hours earlier and made their way north to Kharapei but even there the Army of the Covenant chased them, determined to kill the primarch for his heresy.

Lorgar and his followers would withdraw further away from the major cities, heading deep into the sparsely populated deserts, far from the bastions and centres of power of the Old Covenant.

"This is a shithole, Lorgar," cursed Kor Phaeron, spitting on the parched dirt they sat on, only they were sitting around the flickering fire between them, the rest of the Godsworn sheltering in the nearby huts or nestling on the ground for a well-deserved rest.

Lorgar, son of the God-Emperor, a fact which he thanked his dreams for informing him of, looked at the man who adopted him as his own from the corner of his eyes. So like Kor Phaeron, he thought. Blunt speaking and forward in his opinions. The village before them was… bland but nothing as severe as a 'shithole.'

"Come now, father, it may not be Vharadesh or Geriphaar but it is the place we will rise up to cleanse this world of unbelievers with fire and blood." A tinge of sadness came upon his next words. "I hope the Emperor will forgive me for what must be done."

"It is in His name, Lorgar," Kor Phaeron said, "He will understand. If Colchis is to be part of the Imperium it must be purged of the disbelievers and heretics. The greatest victory requires the greatest sacrifice."

Lorgar Aurelian, the Urizen as he was beginning to be called, looked into the night sky. The stars were twinkling, staring back down at him like angels. He liked to imagine some of them were stars his father, his true father, had passed by on His way to find His lost sons. The image of a golden warrior, adorned in eagles, lightning bolts, wielding a sword of fire and radiating divinity came before him, an echo from his dreams.

"Father," he whispered. Kor Phaeron did not hear it as the noise of the small village drowned it out. Beside the God-Emperor stood a figure near-equal in height wearing robes of red and gold, a heavy tome hanging from his waist by a silver chain. This figure's skin was the colour of copper, his hair a fiery mane that fell past his shoulders. His eye… his eye glowed with eldritch energy while the other was shut, warped and sealed. And this was Magnus, his brother. He knew of them, they were searching for him and Lorgar knew the day of their arrival was approaching.

They were close, so close, but not close enough to stop the war that had started. If Lorgar was to present Colchis to his father it must be a world united in faith and loyal to the Emperor. To do that war must be waged, battles fought across his homeworld. Millions, he closed his eyes in horror of the thought, millions would die. He thought himself more of a scholar than warrior but he knew both traits flowed through his blood, encoded into him by the Master of Mankind. Colchis must be under one rule, one belief, one church, and for that to happen a schism that his homeworld had never seen before or hence would have to be ignited.

Those that followed the Old Ways had started the war when they tried to murder Lorgar and Kor Phaeron in their home. They started it but he would finish it.

"When do we march south?" asked Kor Phaeron later that night, his sword and crested helm in hand, a flintlock pistol at his side. The Urizen looked at Kor Phaeron, the priests and generals that swore fealty to Lorgar were behind him, ready to move out. Behind them, on the plains surrounding the village, rested an army of several thousand, many having marched from all across the continent upon hearing of the Godsworn, with more arriving every day from lands far beyond. Truly, the Word of Lorgar had spread far and wide.

"Tonight," he said, hefting his own sword, inscribed with passages from the Word. "There is a city nearby. Hoqarish it is called, home to thirty thousand people. It has sworn allegiance to the Old Way and it must be eliminated. Tonight we begin."

And with that said he began the march south with an army that was made up of farmers, laborers, midwives, and other sorts of peoples from all paths of life. To the hierarchy of the Covenant, they were but a rabble but under Lorgar's direction they had become an army, driven by purpose, united in belief.

After months of gathering his strength Lorgar began to fight back. After a few quick conquests of enemy cities, his army was finally met by the Army of the Covenant near one of the few great rivers that threaded through the barren Colchisian plains. Lorgar's force was barely ten thousand; the Covenant's over seventy thousand. What should have been a massacre against the Prophet and his followers was instead a grand victory for Lorgar, victory that could only be won by a demigod.

The Army of the Covenant was shattered, only a few thousand survived to spread the tale of their defeat, and Lorgar truly began his conquest of Colchis. Following this grand victory millions flocked to Lorgar's banner. The Covenant's days were numbered but they would not submit to their inevitable defeat. Six years of war followed, six years of sweat, toil and blood became everyday life in Colchis. Wars fought over territory, resources and philosophical ideologies were bloody affairs but they paled compared to the savagery and bloodshed spilled in wars over religion.

By the time Lorgar and his army, now numbering in the hundreds of thousands, approached Vharadesh the war had been won, only the deed of removing the Synod remained. Lorgar would personally behead all Synod members and from that day onwards the Covenant was disbanded, its books burned, its statues pulled down to be replaced by those of the blessed God-Emperor.

The fires lit up the city of Vharadesh. Everywhere Lorgar looked the city was awash with purifying flame. Books, scrolls, paintings… people, all that was defiant of the Godsworn was to be burned. It was brutal, but it was necessary.

He brought his hands before his face. In the fire-lit darkness they were red. Red with the blood of innocents, his crusade had murdered millions but… but he had done it for Him, his Emperor. He was close now, so close, a year at most. The dreams occurred every night and were increasing in intensity. Many a night he woke up covered in sweat, his throat as dry as the interior deserts.

"Is something wrong, my son?"

Lorgar turned to see Kor Phaeron walk in, concern written across his face.

"Yes, father. It's just… there has been so much blood and death. I'm a priest, not a general."

Kor Phaeron's black eyes stared at him. The High Priest of the Godsworn walked over to the Aurelian. "Lorgar, listen to me," he said, placing a comforting hand on his adopted son's shoulder, having to reach up to do so. "Bad things have happened, yes, and bad things will happen across the stars but you must remember. These must happen. To change the galaxy for the betterment of Mankind sacrifices and detestable deeds must be performed. That is how it was, that is how it is, and that is how it will always be. Faith and violence, our species' two most ingrained contributions to history. Faith tempers violence while unrestrained violence gives birth to faith. We destroy so we can rebuild. No matter what, my son, remember that."

Lorgar looked out at the flaming city, the fires burning the image in his retina. 'I will, I will always remember."

"Good," said Kor Phaeron, turning away to leave the chamber. Lorgar Aurelian continued to look out across the city and Kor Phaeron smiled.

As Lorgar had predicted the Emperor arrived to Colchis less than a year after the Urizen had established a theocratic state. Accompanied by Magnus, Primarch of the Thousand Sons, the Emperor was pleased to meet His new found son but was wary of the religion Lorgar had established as His Imperium was based on the Imperial Truth, a doctrine of science, logic and reason, not of superstition and myth.

However the Emperor saw a frailty to Lorgar and did not want to crush it upon meeting Him. The Master of Mankind thought that Lorgar's religious beliefs would ebb with time as he saw the benefits of the Imperial Truth. The Emperor would be sadly mistaken as Lorgar's faith upon meeting his father grew to a fever pitch.

After a week long celebration held in honour of the Master of Mankind and the Fifteenth Primarch the Emperor stated He must return to the Great Crusade as His attention was required in half a dozen campaigns. But as the Emperor was leaving Colchis, a large fleet of warships entered the system.

These were the first ships of the Seventeenth Legion to arrive, led by High Herald Halik-gar, who came to reunite with their gene-sire. After many weeks and months of warp travel, the entire Legion had been assembled near the gates of Vharadesh. It was there that Lorgar renamed the XVII, known as the Imperial Heralds in those ancient times, to the Word Bearers. Lorgar embraced his newfound sons and within a few months they had wholly converted to the Creed of the God-Emperor. A new office, named the Chaplains, was created to act as spiritual counselors as well as soul warders, and to help spread the Word to the rest of Mankind. They would differ from their more common battle-brothers, who bore the holy grey of unpainted ceramite, as these exalted Chaplains would be encased in black armor with white skull-patterned helmets. One of the first things Lorgar did when Imperial technology was effectively established on Colchis was to declare that Colchis was to remain as Lorgar had moulded it, a world of worship and complete devotion to the Emperor who was a god and the primarchs who would become archangels to mortal men. Colchis would not become industrialised like so many other Imperial planets, nor would it change the culture established by the Urizen. It would be the first official Shrine World of the God-Emperor. Lorgar's second act was to begin recruiting from his homeworld as he realised converting a galaxy of heathens would require a very large Space Marine Legion.

The first Colchisian to become a Space Marine was none other than Kor Phaeron, who despite his adult age, could be modified through a multitude of surgeries and gene-therapies to become a quasi-Astartes. He would gain many abilities he never held as a mortal but would not quite be a true transhuman Astartes which would cause some in the Legion to label him 'half-breed' although never near the primarch or where Kor Phaeron himself would hear it. After a successful transformation into a legionnaire, Lorgar made his adopted father the First Captain of the Legion. The title of Master of the Faith was given to Kor Phaeron as well for it was he who had spurred religious fervour in the primarch when he was but a boy.

After Kor Phaeron's successful induction into the Word Bearers, the primarch began to recruit extensively among his followers and the children of Colchis. While many of his older followers that had fought in his army during the Covenant Schism died during the process Lorgar was unflinching in his duty, although it saddened him to see so many friends and comrades die. But for every death Lorgar's faith was renewed by example of his followers' devotion. Less than nine percent of post-pubescent volunteers were able to complete the conversion into Space Marines but from then on Lorgar would only recruit from Colchis' youth that met the certain physical, mental, genetic, and spiritual criteria deemed necessary.

The Great Crusade-

The Word Bearers, after several months of modifying their Legion to fit Lorgar's vision, immersed themselves into the Great Crusade with gusto, eager to bring human worlds into compliance, to smite the xenos and mutant wherever they were found.

The first few years of the Great Crusade for the newly christened Word Bearers saw very few worlds brought into compliance. Unlike many of his brothers Lorgar did not wish to spread his Legion across the galaxy to simply conquer planet after planet, leaving the rebuilding and restructuring of the conquered planets to the Imperial Army and the Administratum.

This had been the way of the XVII but no longer under Lorgar's purview. The Word Bearers would not move on to the next campaign until the newly acquired subjects had their history, their culture and their philosophy systematically purged and reformed to suit the Seventeenth Legion's mandate. In place of these ideals the Word Bearers instituted the religion Lorgar created. Palaces, statues, shrines and cathedrals were constructed in the God-Emperor's Name in countless numbers. The XVII became so dedicated to their crusade to spread the Imperium's unofficial and actual illegal religion that their campaigns crawled to a near standstill. Their Legion of over a hundred thousand, one of the largest Legions at the time, trailing only the Dark Angels, Luna Wolves, and Ultramarines, had expanded the Imperium's borders the least. Legions much smaller tripled, and even in some cases quadrupled, the amount of star systems brought into the Imperial fold in those years.

There was a boon to this slow expansion, however, one that Lorgar frequently spouted as a principal reason for his slothful pace. The Word Bearers would arrive to a heathen world, conquer it, mould it, and leave only when the loyalty and devotion to the Emperor was unquestionable. So while the XVII advance into the stars was lethargic the worlds it brought into compliance would be some of the most loyal and, at the time, the most pious of all worlds in the Imperium. Rebellion, dissent, and heresy were all meaningless words to these planets as their belief in the Imperium and its founder were unshakeable.

Lorgar and his sons would continue this method for nearly a century until the Emperor could not ignore their lack of progress any longer. The Emperor had grown tired of the overly long occupation and rehabilitation of worlds by the Word Bearers. And the spreading of religion, especially one claiming Him as a god, had reached a boiling point with the Emperor which could not be tolerated any longer. Lorgar must be forced to change his ways and the Emperor had the ideal location to do it at.

Sins of the Father-

The world of Khur was selected to be the setting of Lorgar's censure, the city of Monarchia specifically, the so called 'Perfect City' by Lorgar upon its reformation into a spiritual city. Khur had been brought into compliance by the Word Bearers six decades before another Legion force came to the relatively unimportant planet. The Thirteenth Legion, the Ultramarines, led by their primarch Roboute Guilliman had been selected to assist the Emperor and Malcador the Sigillite in censuring the Word Bearers, much to the Battle-King's private shame.

In a span of seven days the 'Perfect City' was reduced to ash and rubble by the Avenging Son and his cobalt-clad warriors. Once the deed had been accomplished an astropathic message from the desolated city's former mayor was sent to the Colchisian Primarch, a message begging forgiveness and pleading for help from the grey angels. It would take weeks but when the Word Bearers entered the Khur Star System they were shocked at what had transpired.

Guilliman ordered Lorgar and his sons to descend to the centre of where Monarchia once stood to await judgment. Lorgar and his Legion complied but had to resist the urge to enact revenge in the name of those Monarchian citizens that had died in the city, having refused to leave despite numerous warnings by the XIII.

The Ultramarine Primarch and the Regent of Terra reprimanded the Word Bearers, demanding that they stop their ways and conform to the Imperial Truth. Lorgar refused… until his father teleported to the surface to rebuke His son in person. The Emperor scolded Lorgar in front of the entirety of the XVII. The Urizen would fall into the ashes of Monarchia, break down in tears and begged the Emperor to allow the Word Bearers to continue glorifying Him. The Emperor, however, was adamant that the Seventeenth must change. Using His immense psychic abilities the Emperor forced every Word Bearer, all one hundred and forty thousand legionnaires, to kneel in submission and made them renew their pledges of fealty to Him, His ideals, and the Imperium. He ordered that the XVII disband its religious practices effective immediately, embrace the Imperial Truth, and wage war across the stars at a more acceptable rate.

When the Emperor was done, He and Guilliman left to return to the Great Crusade while Malcador would return to Terra. Lorgar and his sons would leave Khur a broken Legion, its spirit sapped, its beliefs shattered.

This is when the primarch's two most trusted advisors, High Chaplain Erebus and First Captain Kor Phaeron, began to plant the seeds of heresy in their gene-father. Both Astartes had long been secret devotees of the Ruinous Powers and saw the void of faith in their father as being an opportunity to exploit.

For months, the two Word Bearers hinted and whispered of the Ruinous Four and their god-like powers into their primarch's ears. Lorgar had come out of his depression that he had suffered since Monarchia, yearning and eager to find something else to believe in. At last, his mind and soul becoming more accepting of the Chaos Gods, he stated that before he would take a Pilgrimage, first his Legion needed to be reborn.

The world of Forty-Seven Sixteen was chosen as the place of this rebirth. Lorgar, in a Legion-wide speech, told his sons that no longer will they worship the Emperor and that they must embark on a journey to find the true gods, gods that formed the heart and soul of the Old Faith of Colchis. Variations of the Old Faith had been found across the galaxy but all spoke of similar gods, gods of the darkest majesty that wielded incredible power few could grasp. Lorgar told his sons that they would find the origins of these faiths and find the truth of them. They would determine if these gods deserved the faith and loyalty of the Word Bearers or be cast aside as so many had been before. But before the Legion could embark on this Pilgrimage one thing had to be done: the total extermination of every man, woman, and child on Forty-Seven Sixteen.

Within the span of a day over two hundred million human beings had been killed by the slate grey armoured Astartes. Once the task was finished, Lorgar told his inner circle that he must go on a pilgrimage to find the truth of the matter that would verify or vilify the teachings of the Old Faith.

After many months of travelling, and under the watchful eyes of a squad of Custodes despatched by the Emperor to watch His son for the next fifty years, the Seventeenth Primarch came upon a world on the edge of the galaxy in the Segmentum Obscurus. A world the inhabitants called Cadia.

The violet-eyed natives were Chaos cultists and their leader, a beautiful priestess named Ingethel, convinced Lorgar to witness "a gift from the gods themselves." This would be a ritual in which Lorgar witnessed Ingethel transform from a human woman to an inflated, bulbous, decadent form. She had become a daemon and would be the Speaker of the Dark Gods to Lorgar.

Lorgar was initially horrified at what Ingethel became but he admitted to himself that it was a sign of power from a collection of higher beings, power that only gods and daemons could wield. He, however, needed further proof. Guided by Ingethel, Lorgar and his Legion travelled perilously close to the large warp rift known in modern times as the Eye of Terror.

A single light cruiser, the Orfeo's Lament, was sent into the great warp rift to see if the gods Ingethel spoke of were in fact real. Guided by the daemon the light cruiser, commanded by Captain Argel Tal, commander of the Seventh Company of the Serrated Suns Chapter, entered the Eye of Terror.

The light cruiser would experience incredible difficulties, the entire mortal crew being killed on entry into the warp storm, followed by a quarter of the Astartes detachment. While in the Great Eye, Argel Tal saw many horrid and disturbing things but he was touched and blessed by the gods. He and the survivors of his company became possessed by lesser daemons, becoming the first of the Secondborn. These daemon-possessed legionnaires would form the Gal Vorbak, an elite unit within the Legion who would later become the bodyguards to the Urizen.

Eventually the light cruiser would exit the Eye of Terror after many months of suffering and torment only to find that they had been gone less than a minute to the rest of the galaxy.

Lorgar became intrigued and disturbed by what his sons saw. He interviewed Argel Tal immediately after the captain returned to Lorgar's flagship, the Fidelitas Lex. What the Seventh Company Captain told his father of what he saw and experienced while in the Eye of Terror was enough to convince Lorgar of the reality and strength of these Chaos Gods. Not only did they accept worship, they demanded it.

After pondering for many hours Lorgar ordered the majority of his sons to return to the Great Crusade so as to not arouse suspicion. The Word Bearers Primarch would enter the Eye of Terror himself with only a small escort. What he witnessed few could grasp and none would dare experience themselves. The Urizen had arrived to Cadia a primarch in desperate search of true faith, of gods that had power and existed. He entered the warp rift hesitant of what the future would bring but would exit the Great Storm converted in full to Chaos Undivided.

As his Legion quickly converted to Chaos, Lorgar began to write his greatest work: the Book of Lorgar.

The next four decades would see the Word Bearers slowly corrupt and influence other Space Marine Legions into betraying the Emperor. Through the establishment of secret groups called lodges, the rot of Chaos begins to spread in some Legions. The Legions with the most prevalent and influential lodges would be the ones to fall to Chaos. Post-Heresy all of the lodges that operated in the Loyalists Legions would be broken down and banished, never to return as they were seen as a seed of corruption whose threat could not be ignored.

After the Ullanor Campaign was victoriously concluded Horus was promoted to Warmaster by Imperial Decree, he would now be Commander-in-Chief of all Imperial forces in the Emperor's absence. Lorgar was one of the first to congratulate the First Found so as not to arouse suspicion. The Aurelian hoped that despite Horus' loyalty to their father, that he would lead the rebellion Lorgar had been quietly sowing the seeds for since his Pilgrimage decades ago.

Shortly after the Triumph at Ullanor the Council of Nikaea was called to discuss whether Librarians, along with other psykers, should be banned from using their powers for the betterment of the Imperium. Lorgar hoped to see their brother Magnus chastised and censured, knowing this would aid in making the Crimson King susceptible to the influence of the gods, specifically Tzeentch. And if the Librarius was disbanded, the Imperium would become vastly more vulnerable to the dameonic allies the Urizen would have at his command in the coming war. Though the Librarius were allowed to remain thanks to the Librarian Compromise, there was great oversight and restrictions emplaced, ensuring that the rebels would wield greater power from the warp, at least in the vital initial stages.

With the Edict having been declared and immediately put into effect the council was concluded with all the primarchs and their Legions returning to the Great Crusade. Lorgar, despite Magnus retaining a sense of loyalty to the Emperor, knew his brother well enough to exploit his concerns and flame the doubt the Fifteenth Primarch now held over the Compromise's restrictions and his censure by the Emperor. Lorgar would quietly antagonise the already shattered relationship Magnus held with the Wolf King, creating a situation that would need but a push to see it break out into all-out warfare.

After having spread various amounts of corruption to a majority of the Legiones Astartes, Lorgar began to enact his long sought plan. But to wage war, one must first have its leader to rally behind. The Urizen, despite his many gifts and blessings with the Ruinous Powers, lacked the charisma and strategic acumen that was needed for the Chosen Champion of Chaos. Horus Lupercal was the desired target and to set the Warmaster upon the path of damnation the Aurelian despatched Erebus.

Erebus was seconded to the 63rd Expeditionary Fleet for several years, using his rank and good standing with the First Found to be a part of the Warmaster's inner circle of advisors. Horus would state multiple times in Lupercal's Court of the High Chaplain's wisdom and insight, counting him as a confidant and friend. Those words would turn to ash in the Sixteenth Primarch's mouth soon after.

It would be on the world of Xenobia that the Aurelian's designs for Horus Lupercal began to be initiated. The Warmaster, meeting with leaders of the human-xenos alliance known as the Interex, was accused of authorising the theft of an ancient kinebrach artefact known as the athame. The accusation and attempted arrest led to the Interex and Imperial delegations firing upon one another, sparking the Interex-Imperial War. Despite their advanced technologies, the Interex could not defeat a primarch, especially the Lord of Cthonia, and the vast armies he had at his command. For months the war was waged but from the moment of the first accusation and first gunshot fired the Interex's fate was sealed.

The 63rd Expeditionary Fleet would leave the ashen ruins of the Interex empire, never to return, and were set to redeploy back to the Crusade proper when word reached the Vengeful Spirit that an Imperial world had declared independence against the Imperium. While not unheard of, it was infrequent enough to cause some uproar amongst the XVI leadership, especially once it was discovered that the instigator of this uprising was none other than former Army general Eugen Temba, who had been personally chosen by Horus years earlier to act as the Planetary Governor of Davin. This was a personal betrayal that Lupercal demanded be redeemed through action. As a result the 63rd, one of the largest of the Expeditionary Fleets, numbering hundreds of warships and carrying around a hundred thousand Luna Wolves, was ordered in full to make way to Davin. And it would be there Chaos made the opening move of the war.

On Davin's moon, in the midst of the half-ruined carcass of the warship the Glory of Terra the Warmaster fought the treacherous Temba. While the Warmaster wielded Worldbreaker and the Talon of Horus, the rogue Planetary Governor fought with a simple blade, appearing to be slate grey chipped flint, but it was in fact the athaname, a weapon stolen from the Interex's Hall of Devices by Erebus.

The unassuming xenos blade pierced the Warmaster's armour and nicked his flesh. Yet it did not heal. At first it was a minor wound but quickly festered and spread infectiously thanks to the warp's infernal corruption. Erebus whispered into the ears of Ezekyle Abaddon and Horus Aximand that Horus could be saved if sent to the surface of Davin, the local tribes knowing how to purge the body and soul of the corruption. Before they could agree to this, however, Captain Loken of the Mournival proposed that the Warmaster be interred in a stasis-pod to prevent his death and that the 63rd make way to the Throneworld so the Emperor could heal him, for if any could save their gene-sire it would be his creator. The Mournival quickly agreed, their panic subsiding by Loken's cool-headedness. As the 63rd made way to leave the Davin System, Erebus left, publicly wishing them safe travels while silently cursing Loken for foiling plans that had been decades in the making.

Erebus would return to Lorgar's side, expecting death or some other punishment. Lorgar, while noticeably disappointed and perhaps a bit apprehensive, stated that the outcome was not what was expected but was not as disastrous as it first appeared. There were others with the qualities necessary to lead the rebellion.

Lorgar, knowing that Fulgrim had been touched by Chaos via the Laer Sword and his once adamant loyalty to the Emperor had begun to show cracks, rendezvoused with his brother in a remote star system and for days the two talked, Lorgar masterfully guiding the conversation, enflaming Fulgrim's ego and ambitions and widening the cracks in his once-loyal soul. Days passed, and when Lorgar deemed Fulgrim ready to receive his destiny, he took the Phoenician to a mist-covered world in the Segmentum Obscurus. It would be there that the two entered a cave without bodyguards and retainers. There they would confront four daemonic representatives of the Ruinous Powers and after scrying his soul and questioning him, testing the mantle of his resolve, they declared Fulgrim the Champion of Chaos Undivided, the Avatar of Chaos Ascendant.

With the rebellion's leader now decided, Fulgrim went to Chemos to purge his Legion in the Feast of Rebirth while Lorgar would send Erebus to Jaghatai Khan to sway the Warhawk to the allure of Slaanesh, warning him not to fail him another time. Further plans were carried out, agents readied, and the cultist armies that had been created in secret were made ready.

The Heresy would soon be upon them.

Fulgrimian Heresy-

"I was there the day the news came, the day Unity showed its first cracks. Word reached the Fidelitas Lex of the Night Haunter's murders, of his slaughtering of innocent men and women, and his retreat to Bellanor to face the Emperor's Wrath. The Urizen's Court was shaken, none more so than the Remembrancers of which order I am a part of while the gold-clad Custodes attached to the XVII withdrew to their chambers, likely to send word to Terra. But the most frightening thing was not the fear, the chaos, nor the dream Unity being forever dead. No… the most frightening thing that day was the smile that never left the primarch's face…"

-From the personal diary of Remembrancer Janna Yin-swa

Half of the XVII arrived unannounced to the Bellanor System, surprising the Retribution Armada that had only so recently arrived. Lorgar joined his brothers in council and supported Sanguinius' strategy, much of it having been put forward by Fulgrim, and it was decided that the Word Bearers would be a part of the second wave.

The first wave, consisting of the Blood Angels, several World Eater companies, the Death Guard and Salamanders, began the assault with the IX and XII forces dropping in the city centre while the XIV and XVIII landed outside of Rose City and began their push inwards to link up with the forces under Sanguinius' direct command.

While the first wave thinned their ranks combating Curze's sons, the second wave prepared for battle. The Word Bearers and their allies landed at the drop-zones established by the Death Guard and Salamanders, and quickly went to work setting up overlapping fields of fire, autocannon nests and more. When the XIV and XVIII withdrew to what they thought were brothers-in-arms they were met with treachery. Though reports are conflicting, it is generally believed that the Word Bearers were the first to fire.

Captain Argel Tal, Crimson Lord of the Gal Vorbak, and scion of Lorgar stared ahead at those he had once called brothers. His regret showed if one were to look into his eyes, but alas he had his helmet on. He stood solemnly still, watching the chipped white and green plated warriors of the XIV approach his position.

The Death Guard trudged onward to the drop-zones, their armor dented, scorched, and covered in blood and soot, heading towards his entrenched Space Marines, thinking it was merely allies defending a vital position instead of preparing for a massacre.

Argel Tal looked at the Word Bearers beside him, gone were the days of pretentious loyalty to the Emperor and with it faded the standard grey armour the Legion had worn with pride for two centuries. Had worn with pride that is, until the Castigation of Khur. Since that day forty-three years ago the armour was a reminder of their rebuke, of their shame.

But as the Legion arrived to Bellanor after word of Curze's condemnation by the Emperor the standard grey was replaced with crimson red, similar to their cousins in the IX, but edged in gunmetal trim rather than deepest black and purest pearl. He remembered a time when only he and his Gal Vorbak wore that armour within the XVII. They were the Blessed Sons, the first to embrace the harsh truth of the universe, the first to convert to Chaos Undivided, and the first to allow their bodies to host a daemonic entity.

Even now Argel Tal felt the daemon coil inside himself, acidic saliva dripping from the corners of his own mouth to slowly dribble down his chin. With discipline and practice he pushed the daemon down, for now at least. There was a time and place for that and it was not now. Not yet, at least.

He saw his fellow battle-brothers grip their bolters and swords with anticipation and relish. Nearly half the Legion did not witness the Castigation for they were either Initiates or not old enough to be selected for induction into the Legion at the time. Yet despite this their burning passion of hatred matched those that were there and if they couldn't expend a modicum of their bitter anger on the despised Ultramarines, yet anyways, than the other lackeys of the Emperor would receive their just punishment.

Turning back to face the now closer Death Guard the Crimson Lord saw an officer jogging at the head of the Barbarans. Argel Tal's internal vox chimed with the Fourteenth Legion officer attempting to open a personal channel. He accepted the opening of the vox channel with a mere thought.

"This is Captain Ullis Temeter, Fourth Company, Death Guard. My men and I are inbound for resupply and refit."

He raised his hand in acknowledgment and welcome. That would not suffice however, and he needed information, "Greetings, brother, I am Captain Argel Tal of the Seventh Assault Company, Serrated Suns Chapter, Word Bearers Legion. How does the battle fare, Temeter?"

The XIV officer seemed to swell with arrogance, "Very well, even now the Night Lords are breaking, falling back to their inner defenses. The Lord Sanguinius hunts for Curze, but the bastard is evasive. Victory is assured; we only have to deliver the killing blow."

"Yes, we do," Argel Tal stated. The loyalist officer had no idea how true those words would soon be. Scanning the thousands of the Death Guard ever approaching closer he noticed an absence. "Where is Commander Grulgor."

"The Commander is a kilometre west of here, approaching our brothers under the First Captain's command."

"Acknowledged," said Argel Tal.

More information would be needed, "Did you suffer heavy losses?" Argel Tal asked, his tone beginning to take a neutral tone as the time was fast approaching.

A moment of silence followed but eventually Temeter replied, "Yes, many thousands dead and wounded. We have been bloodied but so has the VIII, them even more so."

Thousands dead, it was truly a large number. In his two centuries of service Tal had never seen such losses amongst the Legiones Astartes occurring in a single afternoon. "Much blood has been spilt. And more will be spilt until it is all over," he said, his tone of voice reflecting the regret of what he was about to do, but knew it was what his father and the gods demanded. And as always he would follow Lorgar to the end of time, for better or worse.

"Captain Tal?" Temeter asked over the vox, him and his Astartes were only a hundred meters away now. The Crimson Lord looked to his right at Company Chaplain Xaphen who was his friend and confidante. The Chaplain nodded at his commander, assuring him of the righteousness of their chosen path. "Captain Tal, respond, is your vox down?" came the expected question when he did not reply.

"Forgive me," he whispered into the vox, immediately cutting the vox connection between the two officers.

The Death Guard were only fifty meters away now. It was almost too easy. Argel Tal raised his bolter, already cocked and loaded, aimed at the approaching Astartes. He could hear the Terran-born officer trying to reopen the link and could imagine what the officer was saying. Was he demanding they lower their weapons, was he warning Tal of the consequences, or was silence his only answer with the betrayal revealing itself?

It did not matter in the end. He was to die anyway. On the Legion's primary vox channel he gave the order they had been waiting for, not only since the time they landed on this accursed world but for forty-three years. An order that would affirm their loyalty to the gods and show the Imperium and the galaxy where their true allegiance lay, it was an order that would echo for millennia to those that survived the day.

It was a simple order, one of the most simple and to the point Argel Tal had ever given. Lorgar had given him the honor and privilege to be the first to fire upon the loyalists. His own Chapter Master Deumos was subservient to his order. A hundred Chapter Masters and hundreds of captains and sergeants accepted his command without question.

"Fire."

Tens of thousands of bolters fired into the mass of Loyalists. The Word Bearers and the Death Guard under Typhon killed their own kin, killing thousands in the opening salvo.

Argel Tal had aimed at Temeter and put a bolt into his chest causing him to fall to his knees. Tal and his fellow Bearers of the Word fired clip after clip into the assembled loyalist Death Guard, scything through the forward ranks as if the heavily armed Astartes were nothing more than stalks of wheat.

The loyalist forces began to fall back after barely a minute. The Death Guard, having lost Temeter and Grulgor, the Commander having been killed by Typhon himself if the vox-chatter was to be believed, withdrew back to the outskirts of Rose City while the Salamanders under Vulkan withdrew more methodically and organised, yet hemorrhaged Astartes as they did so, traitor weapon fire killing officers and any lingering units.

"Forward, grind them into dust, and leave no survivors. For Lorgar and for Fulgrim!" the Master of the Gal Vorbak ordered.

The Word Bearers legionnaires complied quickly with the ranks surging forward to pursue the retreating loyalists. As the Word Bearers advanced so too did theDeath Guard under Typhon, both Legions pursuing the loyalist remnants of the XIV, while Emperor's Children under the Phoenician and several World Eater companies advancing after the Salamanders. Overhead drop-pods of the XII fell to the earth, carrying many thousands of Astartes. Those drop-pods impacted into the rear echelons of the retreating Loyalist. The blue and white armored World Eaters led by the Red Angel himself, cut a swath through scores of Loyalists, his twin chain-axes drenching with blood in a matter of seconds.

Beside him legionnaires of the XVII rushed the enemy but he merely walked towards the fallen Captain Temeter. Temeter had fallen from his kneeled position to lying on his back. Rivers of blood ran by him, some his own, the majority his fellow brothers.

The Death Guard Captain reached for his weapon beside him. He's brave but foolish, thought Tal as he planted his armoured boot on the Terran's hand, preventing him from bringing the bolt pistol to bear.

"Nothing personal, captain, I find this act I have been forced to commit a stain upon my honour as a legionnaire, but I most follow my father as any son should do. I ask for forgiveness. Will you give me that?" It was a rare hope he would receive the forgiveness but he must try.

The response that emitted from the legionnaire's officer's mouth grille was gurgling blood as words refused to form but Tal could guess that it was not forgiveness and just hate.

He sighed "I see. I hope you find peace in the afterlife, I hope the gods are kind to your soul but I know that they won't be. Goodbye, captain," Argel Tal fired his bolter at Temeter's skull which ruptured like broken fruit.

The Word Bearers' actions kill hundreds of thousands of loyalists on Bellanor IV, with the survivors under Sanguinius' command fleeing the star system. Following this great victory, Lorgar orchestrated Fulgrim's ascension to War Commander, something which the other Traitor Primarchs agreed to, understanding that they needed a leader for their rebellion and could compromise on the Pheonician's selection. .

Fulgrim wished to capitalise on this initial victory and sent his brothers and their Legions across the Imperium to further the War Commander's cause and destabilise the Imperial war machine. Lorgar led the Word Bearers to Ultramar, linking up with the Iron Hands. The Urizen and the Gorgon conquered and burned across the Five Hundred Worlds in the Shadow Crusade. Two years into the Heresy, the Word Bearers and Iron Hands assaulted Armatura. After three days of fierce battle Lorgar carried out the final phase of the ritual begun on Calth two years ago, creating the Ruinstorm to entrap the Ultramarines within their realm.

The ritual succeeded and with it, the X and XVII departed Ultramar, though both left significant contingents behind to keep the Ultramarines occupied as both primarchs knew that if Guilliman was allowed to rebuild Ultramar then it would make the traitor conquest of the Five Hundred Worlds significantly more difficult once Terra fell to Fulgrim and the War Commander became enthroned as the Second Emperor. Both Traitor Legions left twenty thousand legionnaires behind, the Iron Hands led by Amadeus DuCaine while the Word Bearers were joint-led by Kor Phaeron and Erebus. The First Captain and High Chaplain were rivals who contended for power and influence within the XVII. The two were perplexed by being left behind in Ultramar while the primarch left with most of the Legion back to the War Commander's side.

Erebus walked atop the ramparts of Longhallow's greatest fortress, the Hellfort. Once it had been an Ultramarine fortress but Longhallow had been conquered by the Word Bearers in the Shadow Crusade's early months. For years it had been the linchpin of traitor defenses in this corner of Ultramar but now it was the last bastion of the Word Bearers within Guilliman's Realm.

He stared out over the mountainous terrain, standing between two flagpoles bearing the sigil of the XVII and the Octed, both torn and bloodstained as they flapped in the cold wind. In the star-speckled heavens was the Ruinstorm, a purple-red bruise encircling Ultramar. Lorgar might have created it at Armatura, but the seeds had been sown by him on Calth. Staring out at snow-capped peaks, it did little to lessen the anger that simmered within him.

As High Chaplain and advisor to Aurelian, he should have been fighting beside Lorgar and the War Commander as the rebellion advanced closer and closer to Sol with each passing day. Yet here he was in Ultramar, fighting a war that should have ended years ago. His talents were being wasted. He suspected Lorgar feared his standing within the Primordial Truth.

"The First Captain, lord," spoke Valdrekk Elias, "He is here."

Suppressing a grimace, Erebus turned to see Kor Phaeron, the so-called 'Master of the Faith,' approach him. Sycophants and yes-men clustered around the First Captain who eyed his own warriors warily. Though the two groups both wore the blessed crimson and gunmetal of the Bearers of the Word, they were two entirely different beasts, both jockeying for favour of the gods and the primarch's trust.

"Erebus," the First Captain grated out through clenched teeth as he stopped several metres away, both separated from their bodyguards.

"Kor, how good it is to see you again," lied Erebus, the words honeyed yet filled with distaste and annoyance. "I'm glad you could make it. I trust the journey was bearable."

Kor Phaeron grimaced at the disrespect at the lack of title yet responded with no hesitation.

"The journey was fine. Why have you asked for me to be here?"

"I summoned you here to let you know that I am departing Ultramar tomorrow."

Kor Phaeron had doubtlessly expected many things from this meeting, including betrayal and an assassination attempt. Yet it was obvious this was not it.

"Leave? So soon? Guilliman still draws breath and there has been no word from Lorgar in years."

"We must leave. Guilliman and Russ are closing in. We have been a constant pain in their backside but they are now able to focus wholly on us. DuCaine has left to rejoin Manus."

Kor Phaeron did not look surprised. "You knew?" Erebus asked.

"Of course I knew," snapped Kor Phaeron, the anger finally able to vent. "The departure of the Iron Hands was felt by any sufficiently blessed by the gods. You are not the only one that they favour."

Erebus bit the snide reply and responded with tact. "Then it is obvious we must leave. We were tasked by the primarch to keep the Ultramarines busy and we have done so for five bloody years, since Armatura. The War Commander is soon to strike at Terra and I for one will not be left here at this sideshow while the war is decided in Sol."

Kor Phaeron shrugged. "Victory or defeat, it matters not. My destiny is in the hands of Lorgar. He will be the instrument of our final victory over the Emperor."

"Spoken like a loyal dog who refuses to recognise it has been abandoned."

The First Captain's guards barred their weapons, Erebus' following suit, but the High Chaplain raised a hand. "Enough! This infighting solves nothing, not now. If we stay, we die, and Lorgar loses two of his most useful instruments. If we leave we can still make an impact on this war and whatever follows."

Kor Phaeron stared at Erebus, searching for trickery. "Why tell me of your plan? Why not just depart silently and leave me to die?"

"Because Lorgar would kill me if I returned without you," Erebus replied truthfully.

"Hmph," Kor Phaeron grunted. "We have just under ten thousand Astartes spread out over a dozen star systems. It will take weeks to recall and reorganise, masking our movements to ensure the Ultramarines and Space Wolves don't suspect our withdrawal and attack us in the midst of leaving."

"No need and no time. Leave them, they can fend to themselves. Those that make it out can rejoin us, those that are trapped here can fight the damn Macraggians and Fenrisians as long as they like. Regardless, they are but pawns and we are more important to the endgame."

The First Captain thought for a moment before nodding. "Then we depart in the morning?"

"Aye. It is time we returned to the Urizen's side."

Since Lorgar left Ultramar, he seconded himself to the War Commander, becoming one of his more dependable and loyal supporters alongside Ferrus Manus. The Word Bearers, the second largest of the Legiones Astartes, bolstered the principal traitor fleets and stiffened the traitors' flanks from attacks by the loyalists, ensuring a steady drive towards Sol. During the leadup to the Battles of Beta-Garmon and Proxima Centauri, the two Gateways to Sol and vital to Praetorian Dorn's extrasolar defence scheme, the Traitor Legions captured or put to the sword hundreds of worlds to ease their advance.

One of the worlds assaulted by the Traitor Legions was Cthonia, homeworld of Horus Lupercal. Strategically the world held little value as its resources had long since been depleted and was of little military importance, yet the symbolic victory its conquest would create was something Fulgrim and Lorgar could not ignore.

Led by their respective primarchs, the Sons of Fulgrim, White Scars and Word Bearers assaulted the Warmaster's homeworld. Though defended by five thousand Sons of Horus and tens of millions of armed ganger-auxilia, it proved of little use against the assembled might of three primarch-led Legions.

Cthonia fell after several days of bitterly fought defiance on the loyalists' part but their fate was inevitable against such numbers. It would be here that Lorgar sought the last great blessing of the Chaos Gods, sacrificing some thirty billion humans in ritualised atomic murder while millions were personally slain by Word Bearer Chaplains, their blades slitting the throats of countless thousands each.

Yet it was in the ruins of what had once been the factory that Horus had crash-landed on Cthonia over two centuries ago that over a thousand captured loyalist Astartes, many but not all having been the Sons of Horus that had so recently fought the traitors, were sacrificed in a mass ritual to please the gods and enrich Fulgrim's already formidable power obtained on Molech.

Kor Phaeron stared at the burning pyres, the screams of Throne-loyal legionnaires succumbing to the pain despite their physiology and mental fortitude. He stared out over them before looking at Erebus who stood farther along the assembled crowd of officers and legionnaires from three Legions.

Tonight would be the night Erebus died.

It had been promised by Lorgar, not in so many words but his foster son had said that a sacrifice would happen tonight and would enrich Kor Phaeron's standing with the gods. He was nearly jubilant beneath his stony exterior. As the pyres burned the hundreds of pits that housed thousands of throat-slit innocents each reeked of copper that mingled with the choking flesh-burning smoke of the fires.

Lorgar walked from where Fulgrim and Jaghatai Khan stood, and approached Erebus. Kor Phaeron could not stifle the anticipation, fingers twitching with excitement, a grin plastered on his face that had long been readied. The Urizen stood in front of Erebus, leaned forward and spoke a few words before walking away to Kor Phaeron.

Confused, he looked up at his foster son.

"Lorgar? What has happened? You promised he would be dead," he hissed.

"I promised that the greatest threat to you would die and it shall. Your ambition has been your undoing." Lorgar glanced behind him. "Seize him."

Two Terminator-clad Gal Vorbak grabbed his arms and pushed him forward to the slaughter pits. Realisation dawned and the acid taste of betrayal was bitter. A glance back saw that it was Erebus who was smiling, a wicked grin splitting his tattooed face.

"Lorgar! I made you, I made you who you are! You can't do this to me!"

Lorgar walked beside the three Astartes as they reached the cusp of the nearest pit. "I can do whatever I please, father. You're plotting and scheming has come to an end. Your death will bless the War Commander and bring him much power from the Dark Gods. And you will have your wish at last, to be amongst the gods, though it will not be in the form you wished. They will tear your soul to pieces and reform it to rip apart anew for eternity. Bask in the damnation of hell, father."

Kor Phaeron stood in shock as Lorgar replaced the two Gal Vorbak, one hand holding him in place with contemptuous ease while the other was a rune-inscribed dagger with a jagged savage edge. Lorgar leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"You've taught me much, father, and for that I thank you." The dagger began to cut into his flesh. "After all, the greatest victory requires the greatest sacrifice."

The Word Bearers participated heavily in the battles of Beta-Garmon and Proxima Centauri, proving vital in winning the War Commander those crucial victories with their numbers and daemonancy. With the Gateways to Sol secured, Fulgrim readied for the invasion of the Solar System..

When the Arch-Traitor invaded Sol with the vast hosts and fleets at his command, Lorgar stood beside his brother helping direct the massive assembled might of the Fallen Eight Legions. After a month of void-combat in which the traitors progressed through Dorn's defence spheres, the Arch-Betrayer and his forces had arrived over the Throneworld. Lorgar led his Legion during the Siege and was a key commander on the ground, directing his Astartes as well as calling forth daemon hordes to bolster the traitor war effort besieging the Imperial Palace.

With the fall of the Saturnine Gates and Ultimate Gates it appeared the loyalists would be overwhelmed, but at the darkest hour hope flickered. The Raven Guard arrived, led by Corvus Corax. The Ravenlord scattered his Legion across Terra to carry out guerilla warfare against the traitors while the Nineteenth Primarch and his elite moved to the Imperial Palace.

Lorgar, hoping to kill the Lord of Deliverance and demoralise the Throne-loyalists, intercepted him.

The Twilight Plaza was ablaze, smoke choked the air, stifling each breath. Yet it was not but a minor annoyance to Lorgar who strode through the smoke, walking over the thousands of dead mortals and hundreds of legionnaire corpses from a half-dozen Legions.

"Lord," called Argel Tal, his new First Captain. "Where are you?" the legionnaire's voice was slightly off from its normal pitch, deeper, more menacing. The daemon housed within his flesh was eager to be released and sate its bloodthirst.

"I am where I must be, my son. Direct the Legion in my absence." He cut the vox-link and waited. In the smoke shadows moved and in turn revealed black and white power armour. Thirty legionnaires aimed their weapons at him, several hefting heavy bolters, plasma rifles, grenade and rocket launchers while the majority carried the standard bolter. From amongst them emerged a taller figure, lightning claws holding a power whip.

"Corvus, it has been some time," Lorgar began.

"Fire," Corax said.

The barrage encased Lorgar, the Raven Guard Astartes emptying their clips and overheating their plasma coils on the primarch. After a minute the barrage stopped, the dust and smoke thickened in the plaza's centre, the once beautiful water fountain now nothing more than crumpled ferrocrete and Anatolian marble. The smoke dissipated and Lorgar stood unmarred, a flickering kine-shield resting a smell of ozone.

"You'll have to try better than that. Much has changed."

Corax scowled. "Arendi, withdraw, join up with Captain Solaro An. I will deal with this."

The Shadow Wardens withdrew without hesitation. Corax activated the power whip, its energy crackling, with his lightning claws catching the blue-white light from the whip.

Corax approached Lorgar. "You won't win."

Lorgar hefted Illuminarum. "We shall see."

Lorgar and Corax fought in the Twilight Plaza, both wounding the other but surviving to fight another day. Despite Lorgar's visions and plans, the Heresy was lost with Fulgrim's death on the ninety-fifth day of the Siege. Lorgar however was not disillusioned, as the death of Rogal Dorn and the Emperor being entombed on the Golden Throne was deemed a victory of sorts. Though saddened by the Phoenician's death, the Urizen deemed that it was all a part of the Primordial Truth's grand design. The Traitor Legions fled Sol, fleeing to their territories to resupply and rebuild, awaiting Imperial retribution.

Following the Year of Intermission the Great Scouring began, the Loyalist Legions striking out to reclaim all that had been lost. Lorgar, knowing that with the Traitor Legions disunited and in disarray would prove unable to hold their territory, formed the Syndicate Chaotica with the Night Lords, Iron Hands and Alpha Legion. For years the Syndicate hampered the loyalists, dealing great defeats in battles that matched many of the Heresy's largest engagements. But this too failed. The Traitor Primarchs were beginning to bicker, their alliance fraying at the edges. The final nail in the coffin was Alpharius' death at Eskrador. With the Last Primarch's death the Syndicate Chaotica was dissolved. The Alpha Legion fragmented and scattered across the galaxy so as never to be cornered and dealt such a blow as Eskrador ever again; the Iron Hands left for Medusa to establish the Ferrum Dominion, short-lived though it was; the Night Lords fell back to Tsagualsa in the Thramas Sector, eventually defeated by Lord Protector Lion El'Jonson a century following the Siege of Terra. The Word Bearers returned to Colchis, the first Imperial Shrine World having long been repurposed as a world bathed in the faith of the Dark Gods. Unlike Manus who intended to fight on his homeworld until the bitter end, Lorgar knew that his fate resided elsewhere. For weeks Colchis was stripped of anything of value, from resources, to weapons, to its very people. All was harvested for the sojourn to the Eye of Terror. By the time the Imperium arrived over Colchis to seek retribution, they found nothing of note other than thousands of pillars bearing the Octed with the corpses of loyalist legionnaires hanging from them by iron chains.

Faith of the Fallen-

While the Imperium constructed the Iron Cages around the Great Eye, the Word Bearers chose Sicarus to be their new daemon homeworld. Many Word Bearers wondered what was to be their fate following the Heresy since they had felt victory had been snatched away from them and must have been so because the gods deemed them unworthy. To renew their faith with the Dark Gods cathedrals, temples and monuments were raised with zealotry and devotion.

Lorgar sensing his sons uncertainty decided to intervene. Before the entirety of the XVII on the damned plains of Sicarus the Word Bearers Primarch spoke to those that had survived the Heresy as well as the Scouring. He assured his sons that the gods still favored them and their cause. That the defeat of the Heresy and Fulgrim's death was regrettable but preordained, an event that had come to pass for the assuredness of ultimate victory in the future. The Legion must now wage the Long War, their goal now to weaken the Imperium for thousands of years for eventual supremacy of Chaos.

At the conclusion of the speech Lorgar announced he was to go into isolated meditation in the Templum Inficio. None other than First Captain Argel Tal and his Gal Vorbak would be in contact with him, not even Erebus or other ranking lords of the Word Bearers.

In Lorgar's absence the Seventeenth Legion has been led by the Dark Council, a collection of scheming and ambitious warlords and Dark Apostles who further their own agenda, though they must tread carefully in doing so lest Argel Tal censure them or inform their gene-sire. For ten thousand years the XVII has been led by the Dark Council. Yet as the 41st Millennium comes to a close, the War Commander reaches out to all of the surviving Traitor Primarchs. And one by one they lend their allegiance.

Tyberius Sakaeron would visit the Urizen during his self-isolation and after days of discussion, rituals and prayer, the two stepped out of the Templum Inficio. Lorgar informed his sons that his isolation was at an end, his communion with the gods had gifted him with much insight. Now was the time for him to lead the Word Bearers once again to war as the Eleventh Vengeance Crusade is soon to begin.

Combat Doctrine-

The combat doctrine of the Word Bearers has since their inception as the unnamed XVII focused as a jack-of-all-trades Legion, proficient in many fields but never excelling in any particular specialisation. While as creators of the Imperial Cult they excelled in propaganda, indoctrination, and complete and utter eradication of any religion or philosophy that did not meld well with the primarch's beliefs. In the decades following the Castigation of Khur, the XVII began to tinker and then embrace daemonancy along with the extensive use of cultists being used as cannon fodder. This kind of method of war is somewhat attritional but no less effective, as the daemon and cultist hordes wear down the enemy, leaving them vulnerable to the Word Bearers themselves who carry out the killing blow.

Despite having many skilled commanders the Astartes of the XVII are known for their relative lack of flexibility, depending heavily on divination and prayer, so much so that entire Hosts will vastly reorganize on the eve of battle to better accommodate the Dark Apostles wishes. Unlike many Chaos Legions and warbands, the warband Hosts of the Seventeenth Legion are led by the Dark Apostles, once known as Chaplains until the defeat at Terra.

Organization-

The Word Bearers, unlike the White Scars and Alpha Legion, have remained a loosely united and coherent Legion post-Scouring. With the Daemon World of Sicarus now the new homeworld the Legion saw itself undergo various changes to its infrastructure.

Gone were the days of standardised Chapters and Companies. Instead these would be replaced by Hosts, which vary greatly from a mere hundred Space Marines to many thousands. They would officially be led by Dark Apostles, especially in matters relating to faith or doctrine, but the actual military engagements would be carried out by the Coryphaus, the most senior captain in the Host's ranks and its de facto warlord. This division of power was done so to allow the Dark Apostle to better commune with the Chaos Gods and to allow him to seem more of a holy figure, blessed by the warp itself, rather than simply a transhuman warlord. If the Dark Apostle were to killed in warfare the Coryphaus, if alive and did nothing to prevent this or enact revenge, would instantly be executed by order of the Dark Council that rule in Lorgar's name. This has led to several Coryphaus warlords fleeing Word Bearer-controlled Eyespace, fleeing either to the Maelstrom or other parts of the Great Eye, such as Sakaeron's vast dominion.

While the Coryphaus is the effective military commander and the Dark Apostle is the spiritual leader there is another rank in between these two that acts as the voice and public face of the Host's dark priest. These are the First Acolytes, Dark Apostles in training, whose devotion and loyalty to the Dark Apostle was only matched by their hungry ambition to elevate themselves higher in the theocratic hierarchy of the Legion. A place on the Dark Council, and all the powers and influence associated with it, are highly sought after by lower ranking Dark Apostles and First Acolytes.

Recruitment-

For a century and a half the Word Bearers recruited from Colchis. But since the harvesting and subsequent destruction of their homeworld during the Great Scouring the XVII recruit from Chaos cultists across the Imperium and Eye of Terror. Only the most devout and strong willed are even considered to be inducted and must endure incredible hardships physically, mentally, and spiritually if they are to don the dark crimson and gunmetal trimmed armor of the Seventeenth Legion.

Despite the heavy losses suffered during the Heresy, and the millennia that followed, the Word Bearers have rebuilt their strength to much of its former glory. In conjunction with these many tens of thousands of Astartes are millions upon millions of Chaos cultists assembled in massive armies assigned to the legionnaire Hosts. While these armies are usually poorly trained and armed they are amongst the most fanatical human worshippers of the Chaos Gods. This fanaticism has seen many victories won for Chaos during the Long War.

Homeworld-

The Word Bearers original homeworld was Colchis, an arid world many times the size of Old Earth with a slow revolution around its sun, but since the Great Scouring the new homeworld of the Legion has been moved to Sicarus, located deep in the Eye of Terror. It is a Shrine World dedicated to the Ruinous Powers. Cathedrals dominate the Daemon World, black spires where the bodies of believers are impaled upon them, their blood adding to the red and black of the architecture. Sicarus is truly the daemonic holy land of Chaos Undivided, a place where daemons can come and go uninterrupted, and unlike the Daemon Homeworld of the Iron Hands, Sicarus exports not weapons, nor shells, nor foodstuffs. It's only export is the faith of Chaos Undivided, written upon the skin of dead slaves and gifted to not only the other Traitor Legions, some more reciprocal than others, but smuggled to many within the Imperium, causing countless rebellions and civil wars across the Emperor's Realm.

While Terra is a beacon of light, hope, Imperial power, and a holy world in the Imperial Creed, the Word Bearers current homeworld is its mirror copy although it is a symbol of darkness, despair, might of the warp, and a daemon world for the Pantheon of Chaos.

Beliefs=

The Word Bearers once believed the Emperor to be a god but that belief died in the ashes of Monarchia. Since Lorgar's Pilgrimage the Seventeenth Legion has converted in its entirety to Chaos Undivided. Unlike some Legions who only pay lip-service to the Dark Gods the Word Bearers are zealots in every sense of the word and are more than willing to spread the faith of the Ruinous Powers across the galaxy. The Word Bearers will not stop until the Imperium has fallen and then it shall be rebuilt to follow the tenets of the Book of Lorgar.

In pursuit of their goal the XVII see War Commander Sakaeron as the true successor to Fulgrim and are the most supportive Legion to Sakaeron outside of his own Sons of Fulgrim and the allied Iron Hands. In all ten previous Vengeance Crusades the Word Bearers have contributed significant amounts of their Astartes and war-fleet. On the eve of the Eleventh Vengeance Crusade Imperial intelligence estimates the entirety of the XVII, along with their Daemon Primarch, have assembled on Sicarus and are ready to wage war in the name of Sakaeron and Chaos.

Gene-seed-

Prior to their retreat to the Eye of Terror following the Heresy and the Great Scouring the Word Bearers had exemplary, pure gene-seed. All nineteen organs were in excellent condition and there was no genetic deviation.

This slowly changed post-Khur when more and more of the Legion became intermingled with the daemonic and touched by the warp, particularly the specialist unit the Gal Vorbak. Now after ten thousand years of residing in the Eye of Terror the Legion's gene-seed has become thoroughly tainted by Chaos yet all nineteen organs continue to work, although some perform less efficiently than they once did pre-Heresy.

Battlecry-

There is no one fixed battlecry for the Seventeenth Legion, rather an appropriate passage from the Book of Lorgar is selected on the eve of battle by the Dark Apostles to spiritually prepare the fanatical legionnaires.