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This article, Morglan the Malicious, was written by DragonBrood5. Please do not edit or 'acquire' this fiction without the writer's permission. |
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- "Vile monster from beyond the void of all that is righteous and holy! You dare to speak such perverse blasphemy about the name of the one who has saved our race and only wants to help? You lead the people of this planet to their doom, condemning them to eternal suffering by attempting to mislead them! Tragic times are upon us indeed if even the most loyal of us now falter!"
- —Chapter Master Mamolud
How pointless are those words, wasted on ears that have long since heard the truth? And how foul is the mouth that dares to utter such hypocrisy, knowing it is the true evil? It is true that I was once one of them, limited by their narrow point of view. But now I understand who they truly are. After all the lies that they told, the shadows they cowered in, it is they who made me. It is they who drove me down the path I have taken, and I am glad they did so. I am glad they have made their worst enemy. I will show them who offers real freedom and prestige, or destroy them before they mislead more of my race. Let them burn by the flames of war and the hosts of Khorne, says I, Morglan the Malicious, Daemon Prince of Khorne!
History
Background
Galati V is about as far as you can get from Terra without actually reaching the Eastern Fringe. It’s a small world, with little distinguishing features. It’s even close to nonexistent, considering how difficult it is to find it on a map. I always saw it as a low-key area, one that held little intrigue and didn’t have much of a story to entice those who seek adventure. After all, the only important thing about it was the fact it was a Hive World, and even that was kinda sketchy for a description, considering how primitive the people there are. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I will just go ahead and say that, for the record, I’m no adventurer. I don’t crave glory, or wealth, or excitement like most. In fact, I’ve come to despise it with all my heart. Or what’s left of it anyway. So you can now understand that I had little say in how this turned out, which will make sense as our story unfolds.
Surprisingly enough, it doesn’t start with my birth. That would come about much later. Nor did it happen with a major, galaxy shaking event. It all began when a courageous group of people fled from the tyranny of Terra and settled down on a foreign planet that was far away from the Techno-barbarian empires. It was hard at first, but they eventually got their rhythm and scraped out a decent living for themselves. One that was much better than down on Terra. They could live in freedom, enjoying peace, prosperity, and liberty. It was the dream of Mankind. But most importantly of all, they were safe and secure, justifiably worrying about very little besides their mundane work.
But the Emperor of Mankind soon arrived. Well, not him directly, but his emissaries. They knew that the planet was hurting, struggling to fend off attacks from rampaging Orks while simultaneously attempting to rebuild their shattered world, where its serenity had been broken seemingly beyond repair. But to do this meant that they would have to give up all authority of every aspect lives, placing their fate in the hands of the Imperium. It also meant that they would have to give up their worship of the mystic energies of the spiritual realm, of which very few beings could sense. In the tribal culture of Galati V, connecting with the Warp gave you the highest honor in your tribe, and it became your job to divine the will of its roiling energies, which is no small feat.
The tribes, wishing to keep their identity and dignity intact refused, choosing to fend on their own rather than submit to the promises of a stranger they didn’t know. A stranger who couldn’t be trusted. A stranger whose word might be hollow. But they weren’t giving a choice in the end. Not when the Imperial war machine came down on them like a hammer, grasping the planet and the surrounding moons in its iron fist. They broke the people, forcing the tribes to change their ways. The women were nothing more than breeding stock, while the men became slaves to the Adeptus Mechanicus. They were abused, beaten, malnourished, under supplied, and eventually discarded like a damaged Bolter.
But the greatest crime that the intruders committed was the brainwashing of the children. The young girls were taken to become Sisters of Battle, while the boys were sent to education facilities where they would be turned into a new generation of Space Marines. I should know. I was one of them.
Early Years
Now we get to when I was born. Just like the other toddlers my age, I was ripped away from my family, my home, and the life that should have been mine. Once we were in, we were experimented on, our genes purposefully mutated to ensure that we would grow to maturity faster. And when we finally reached the age of seven, we were turned into Space Marines of the newly created Chapter known as the Ashen Blood.
All during this time, we were lied to, deceived by the most despicable, filthy ideas possible. We were taught that we had no family, that we were simply lab rats who came from single strands of DNA grown into men. We were led to believe that we were test tube children so that we would gain no attachment to the people of our own planet, and you’ll soon see why. Suffice to say, it was cruel.
When we became actual Space Marines, which was a big deal for us and viewed as one of the most important sacred rites into adulthood, we were fed more dishonesty by the interlopers who raised us. We were taught that the Emperor of Mankind was a flawless, perfect being who sought only to fix the flaws of humanity. The people down below, they said, had rebelled against the God Emperor, the supreme authority of the universe, and thus had to be managed in the most strict of ways possible to keep them in line and, in death, save them from the Emperor’s wrath. We believed that, despite how horrible the conditions were for them, despite the fact that they were chained by an unbridled evil we couldn’t see, what we were doing was for their own good. That it was to help them in the long run. We couldn’t yet see how wrong we were.
Eventually, I got to the point where I was successful and beloved by my superiors. I was still ignorant, blissfully oblivious to all the wrong around me. I didn’t know it at the time. But as my success grew, so did my fame. And that eventually caught the eye of one extremely hot Sister of Battle. Not just any Sister of Battle either, but the undying adoration of the Canoness Superior of the time. Sylthia, her name was. I still remember her long, raven black hair and roasted, tan skin that shone like bronze. I can still hear her lilting laugh and smell her rose scented perfume. Even during battle she dressed to impress.
We fell in love, as you can no doubt already predict. Soon the majority of our free time was spent together, enjoying what life had to offer. But the problem was, both of us were forbidden from ever getting married or having children, though it would have been impossible anyhow, due to my infertility. Downside of being a Space Marine I suppose.
We didn’t care, however, and continued to see each other. Both of us chaffed against the rule, but we still didn’t go against it. Some hard lines just couldn’t be crossed, not since we both were tricked into thinking that the preaching of the pastors were always right, and that their path was the best and only true way to live properly. How foolish we both were then. But I digress, since we had no reason to think otherwise. It’s times like these that I’m disgusted with hindsight.
But she eventually found something that would rock our world forever, a dark secret that, though I’m glad it’s no longer buried; I sometimes wonder if it would have been better if it had stayed hidden. At first, she wouldn’t tell me what she had uncovered, and it seemed like she never would. She just disappeared, with the rumors flying around claiming she had gone into hiding with a group of cultists who wished to overthrow the government. She had pleaded for me to go with her the day of she vanished. But I was too stuck in the pattern of the present. Now I wished I had listened to her and trusted her more. Maybe then it wouldn’t have cost us the future.
Galati Heresy
It turned out that the rumors had been true all along. And it wasn’t just because she was simply sick and tired of being forced to represses her deepest desires. Before she had left, she would uncover the worst truth that Galati V had swept under the rug and shielded from our eyes, the eyes of its most valuable military force. It was a terrible fact that I only learned near the end of the heresy.
Once she had been confident that she had built up enough strength to challenge the conquerors from Terra, Sylthia and other Galatians who were finished with being the pawns of the Imperium all banded together to spark a revolution against the Imperial leaders currently residing on the planet.
Thousands of them stormed our fortifications, joining together to create an overwhelming tsunami of unstoppable power. At first, our defenses crumbled in the face of such an intense onslaught, and we began to panic. But we soon managed to gain the upper hand and began to deal with the rebels. I, for one, had been devastated when I realized that all I had feared came to pass; that my one true love had joined the enemy. But hearts are traitorous things, and no how hard I steeled my mind against the pull of lust and want, I found myself agreeing to meet her and listen to her reasons for turning her back on her upbringing. Deep down, I was hoping she could explain it in a way that could put things back the way they were. But of course that couldn’t happen.
My brothers and I were astounded when she broke the news, shocked by the revelations that were thrust upon us. In our culture, the bond of brothership and blood was everything, and there was no punishment in the Warp condemning enough for one who betrayed or, even worse, killed one of his own kin. But that meant that we had been doing that all along. I could have unwittingly murdered my own mother, and gone against the single most important defining characteristic of the honor of both my chapter and I. And even if I had never killed my parents, I had no doubt slain some relative, distant or other, of my fellow Battle Brothers, all of whom were bound to me, sworn on an oath stronger than blood or magic. And because of that bond, I had killed my own, more distant kin. My dignity, my character, my soul, was stained with their blood.
Reeling in anguish, my chapter agreed to sue for peace until we could get final confirmation from the ones who held these files themselves; the government workers of the Imperium. But they panicked, fearing we would turn on them if they let go of the knowledge they were withholding from us. So they called for backup instead, and another Adeptus Astartes chapter came forward. Before we knew what was happening, we were being attacked.
We hadn’t expected them. There was no way to anticipate it. So the battle was nothing more than a massacre as we were brutally slaughtered. As Chapter Master, it was my job to lead my brothers through these kinds of trails. It was my responsibility to make sure they survived. And I failed. Completely and utterly failed. I still hate myself for it. I often wonder if things would have been different if I hadn’t ignored the warning signs.
But it wasn’t all lost. When she saw what was happening, how the Imperium of Mankind was betraying us to save their own precious reputation and ensure no threat rose up that would dethrone them, Sylthia urged her rebels forward to our aid, sensing that she could now gain our support, and with it the momentum to drive off her enemy. But she had naively believed we were prepared. And we weren’t. We were struggling and dying, unable to put up much of a fight as we feel before them left and right.
In fact, when she got through to where I was struggling to survive, I was as good as dead. I had no chance, no hope of defeating the opponent who loomed over me. I was too weakened, too stunned from when he switched spontaneously from calmly negotiating with me to doing his best to behead me. But Sylthia loved me and, even though I had condemned her for her involvement with the revolution, she still threw herself in the way of my foe’s blade. I won’t describe the scene, or tell you her exact words. It’s much too personal for me. It still haunts my nightmares and makes my waking moments miserable when I recall it. But she begged me to make sure that her sacrifice wasn’t in vain. To do what was right and try to end this nightmare. To fix it.
I couldn’t do it on my own. But I didn’t need to. I needed strength and power to combine with my rage, a burning hatred that burned within me, consuming me in a fire of blazing passion. I needed to avenge my brothers, and make sure their killers paid in blood and bone. They had murdered by the blade, declared war by taking away from who we really are and deserve to be, and thus I would repay the favor. I would murder them in cold blood just as they that butchered my kin without hesitation. And death by death, I would build atop their skulls a pyramid that would cleanse from the galaxy their corruption and make the race of man better bit by bit. I would eliminate the threat, but I would call on help from a place I had never dreamed I would even contemplate. I called down the power of Khorne, surrendering my mortal form to the Dark God of Murder and War, and in exchange I knew he would give me the immortality of the warp entities that served him, and I would be lent the muscle to wipe the abomination of the God Emperor from the face of the cosmos.
As the transformation began to sweep over my body, taking me captive, I could hear the blood curling whispers of Khorne, his promises and warnings both of the influence I would gain, and the price I would pay. I would have to forfeit my soul for his help, but it was a price I was willing to pay. No cost was too steep for me, and I couldn’t help but smile as he spoke. Because I knew he cared. Because he was open and honest, refusing to withhold anything from me. He, unlike the Imperium, had honor and dignity. He was giving me a choice, a chance. True, I couldn’t succeed without him, but he wasn’t forcing my hand. I still had the free will to determine my own destiny and which master I’d serve.
And in that moment, I felt my mortal form burn away as my soul slipped into the molten grasp of Khorne. But in its place came a body that was bigger, stronger, more enduring, and tougher. Now I finally had the strength to resist and take down the Golden Throne, and help save the souls that the Imperium had tricked. My mind was preserved, as was my personality, and in the place of my psyche came the immortality that even the Emperor wouldn’t grant to the most faithful of his helpers. It was the essence of a Daemon Prince of Chaos, making it so that, no matter how many times I was struck down, I would always return to gain vengeance for the innocents who had been defiled at the hands of the Imperium.
With a deafening roar, the power of the God of Murder split the very reality of Galati into two, Real Space severed as his bloody legions poured out and covered every inch of the planet’s surface. And it was I who led them to their glorious conquest and gory harvest. It was I who faced the Chapter Master of the Space Marines who had attacked and killed nearly every single one of my brethren. And it was my blade that slew him. I even watched as his soul drifted from his severed husk and to the eternal damnation that waited.
Notable Appearances
Ever since the Galati Heresy, I came to despise everything about the Imperium of Mankind. From its tyrannical government that refused us to pursue our pleasures, to the immoral conduct of its soldiers, to even the flawed and blatantly false ideals of its religion, it is a civilization has become rotten to the core. Once, my name had been something I bore with joy, but its meaning has since turned sour. It is because of this that I changed my name to Morglan, which means “Gore Drenched Enlightener” in the tongue of my people. I made an oath to Sylthia and the rest of humanity, one that I intend to keep. I will not let the atrocities of the Emperor go unpunished, or the schemes of his minions go unchecked. At every turn I will challenge his dominion until it comes crashing down and crumbles into nothing more than ash and dust. With every step that I stride across the stars, I will free those I cross from the shackles of abuse that Terra has weighed them down with. No more servitude to ungrateful masters for us. It is time to become something more, the change this world needs. Never have my foes killed me before when I have chosen to intervene for the good of Mankind during critical moments in history. And they never shall.
Wargear
I will admit that I am not, perhaps, the greatest servant of Khorne. But I am no less fearsome or dangerous than any of the rest of his helpers, and this is in part due to the unique wargear I utilize on the field of battle. This armor has been compiled from many different sources, but is still magnificent nonetheless. From ancient weapons, to more recent acquisitions, I have gained much in my search of the galaxy, a rewarding search that might finally give me the raw, unstoppable edge I will need in the wars to come.
- Gory Blade of Endless Blood: Thanks to the end result of the 1st War of Ragnaur, I have been able to acquire this elusive relic from ancient times. It is an ultimate weapon of unrestrained power, fit only to be wielded by the greatest of champions. Legends from long ago claim that when Khorne was born, one of his claws fell off fighting a fearsome monster. It is this same claw that has become known as the Gory Blade of Endless Blood. However bears it in battle will be driven by the will of Khorne himself, and will be able to call upon the strength of the Dark God of Murder. Not only will their physical aspect improve, but they will gain all the honor of their master, which will keep them true to their goals, as well as the skill of a flawless killer, making them capable of matching blades with even the most skilled swordsmen. When I have used it, I have encountered a rather odd sensation; that the blade is guiding me, rather than me guiding it. It’s almost as if it has a sentience of its own.
- Roar of Vengeance: This unique, double barreled, built into my suit weapon is a powerful infernal cannon of breathtaking design, crafted by Vashtorr himself. Many who have been struck by it have found that it is like being blasted by the full fury of a star, and in many ways it is. Undergoing a special nuclear reaction within itself, it has the power of a sun trapped inside. When fired, twin beams of solar heat will blast out of it, burning with a fire so intense that it will vaporize even the most heavily armored of Imperial Knights. Furthermore, the might of the weapon is increased due to the bond between it and my soul, which allows me to channel my fury and hatred through it, combining red bolts of psychic energy with the already devastating beams of desolation.
- Claws of Malevolence: This massive glove has, extending from it, long, multi-jointed claws. Each claw is razor sharp, wrought of only the most durable metals. Honed to an edge that can easily puncture standard power armor, it is enhanced by the fact each claw is an energized blade, pulsing with such destructive energies that it can easily shred even Blackstone, not to mention the strength enhancers and speed accelerators in it, making each swing more than capable of tearing apart even the toughest of foes.
- Titan Power Armor: Just as with my ranged weapon, Vashtorr made it himself. The armor itself is a special form of power armor that is formed in such a shape that it makes a mockery out of the regal finery of typical Chapter Masters, without the horns that it has, of course. But mine is so much more than a message. Clad white and made from sanctified bones of my foes, mixed with top quality energy shield protection and Traitor Titan alloys, it is practically impenetrable. Not only is it excellent and helping shield me from magical attacks, but it could block even the revered Sword of the Emperor.
Relations
Allies
- Salumal the Crafty: Many of my brothers, the fellow Astartes of my former chapter, had been destroyed. In fact, with all the destruction I had witnessed, all stemming from the treachery of the Emperor, I had believed that every last one of my kin had been slain. So did the Imperium, who were much too satisfied with their purge, even if they were driven off the planet and killed as a warning to what happens to those who mess with the blade of Khorne. But, as it turns out, one of my fellow Space Marines, a Librarian named Salumal, had also survived. Just like me, he had turned to the Ruinous Powers for help, convinced that the surrender of his soul was the only option. However, unlike me, he chose to be transformed into a Daemon Prince of Tzeenach. With the power of the Dark God of Change, he fled to a nearby system and, using the Daemonic Legions he summoned there, gained his vengeance. Our reconnection was a joyful occasion, filled with many embraces and tears. Although we serve different masters, we have found ways to make peace with that face. The blood bond of brothership between us is simply too strong. Plus, I have come to realize that, without the other Chaos siblings, the core essence of humanity is not complete, and that they are needed if we are to win this war. Ever since we have forged a pact with each other, a sworn oath of loyalty. While our ultimate allegiance is to our masters in the Warp, we are determined to fight together. Because of this, our legions often work hand in hand to destroy our foes, and together, fighting side by side, we have bested even the greatest champions of the Imperium of Mankind.
- Gore Stained Scions: These Heretic Astartes, like all others, did not start out as traitors. Rather, they were among several chapters sent out to make sure that the Ashen Heart was completely destroyed. However, upon seeing the horror unleashed both upon Space Marines who had not openly defied the Imperial government and upon innocent civilians, they turned against the Golden Throne and pledged allegiance to Khorne. Their choice of master was heavily influenced by their brief encounters with me that led to them seeing me as a saint and teacher, one of the few brave enough to stand against the injustices of the Imperium of Mankind.
Strained
- Vaylthor the Swollen: Often do I find myself unable to know what exactly to think about Vaylthor, for how to view him is a great mystery. He is slightly more tolerable than Hellscream, which I suppose is to be expected. He, unlike her, seems willing to work with the other forces of Chaos so long as it both serves to further the grand scheme of Nurgle and grants both the honors and boons the Dark God of Death and Rot deserves. And I can respect the power of Nurgle, as well as how necessary his presence is. After all, what is the point of life if there was no end, if your actions and memories didn’t matter since you would have an infinite supply of them. But we have sometimes found reasons to clash, since he is ultimately loyal to and supportive of his master, and should the battle not elevate the power Nurgle to an exalted status, he will gladly turn on his own former allies.
- Warped Phsyche: TBA
- Festered Sons of Filth: TBA
Enemies
- Hellscream the Erotic: I have nothing but disdain and utter contempt for this Daemon Princess of Slaanesh. I honestly respect the divine nature of pleasure. Without it, we would be nothing more than soulless husks like the Necrons, never having any reason to fight or live. We would have no feelings, no emotion. But she does not respect that such excess must be fought for if it is to be kept, and without honor we will quickly stray beyond the lines that we are willing to cross as our values fall away and everything we fight for becomes undefined. Hellscream is determined to make sure that all of space is claimed solely in the name of Slaanesh, and that every other Dark God is destroyed. That I cannot tolerate, and since neither of us will budge on our viewpoints, we are doomed to constant warfare.
- Legio Ultor: TBA
- Archangels of Manasseh: TBA
Notable Quotes
By Morglan
About Morglan
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