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Post by Admin on Feb 18, 2013 8:57:30 GMT -5
SELF-EXPLANATORY!!!
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Post by joeofthemasks on Feb 27, 2013 17:39:55 GMT -5
Name: Diomhaire
Titles: Holder of Keys, Voice of the Flesh, Serpent of the Maw.
Age: 576
Physical Attributes: Diomhaire stands at five feet nine inches, not an imposing height in the least. This is more than made up for in his presence, Diomhaire holds himself like one who is used to power, proud and arrogant in his power. His flesh has remained firm in his age, and he looks to be around his early twenties. His hair has stayed with his age and has become corpse white and thin, flowing around his waist. Diomhaire's skin is soft porcelain, and his eyes black obsidian swirling with the depths of horrors he has seen and done.
Place of Origin: Oliensis – a Slaaneshi planet in the Eye of Terror.
Organization/Affiliation: A Slaaneshi cultist and powerful psyker.
Personality: Diomhaire is calm and withdrawn, used to the razor edge between life and death he takes great pleasure in testing it's sharpness. Used to a world that rages with the flesh pleasures of Slaanesh and a full force of Noise Marines Diomhaire grew up being despised for simply not being a Marine. As of such he has a great dislike for any Marine be it Loyal or Chaos. At a young age Diomhaire saw Slaanesh stride upon the planets surface, this has effected his mind ever since, to see Slaanesh is to serve Slaanesh. Through all the worlds burned and brought to withering pleasure by his hand his only joy is continued life and the few times Slaanesh has touched his mind directly, causing him to be slightly jaded.
Weapon/tool of choice: Diomhaire prefers to wade into the thick of battle, if nothing more than to feel his life in his own hands. His weapon of choice is a bladed whip looking much like a chain of sharpened circles.
Goals (if any): To unlock more secrets for his master Slaanesh thus gaining favor and to be graced with His/Her/It's presence again.
A RP sample of the character: Diomhaire moved silently amongst the shadows of night, his profile broken and disfigured with the strobe background of cannon fire. Here and there he appeared only to be swallowed by the unnatural darkness of no-mans land. Closer and closer he moved to his objective, a small postern door hidden in the loyalists wall. This was the door that so many of their sneak attacks had come from, this was the door that would be their down fall. As Diomhaire came close to the spot his 'interrogation' had reveled he became aware of another presence, it was this hairbreadths warning that saved his life. Bolter fire erupted where his head had been moments before, skirting up clouds of pulverized stone and debris. The cover was a false sense of security and he knew it as more bolter fire came at him. Dodging from stone to stone Diomhaire moved like the shadow of a serpent calling on his magyks to blend his figure with where it shouldn't be. A new presence flickered into his mind as a Howling Griffon Librarian reached out and grabbed his throat. “Your life is ended Heretic.” The electronic voice rumbled through it's speakers. “It would be no fun if this was easy.” Diamhaire spoke through a mouth full of blood, his vision sharpening has he called upon his dark gifts. A yell filled the air as the librarian's hand loosened it's grip cut off by a whistling chain. Standing amidst the force of Space Marines and the small cultist was a small force of Daemonettes, already attacking and feasting on the souls of the Griffons. “So much for subtle.” Spoke Diomhaire as he was wrapped in the warp fyre that was his gift.
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gazzz477
Acolyte
We make war, so that we may live in peace
Posts: 77
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Post by gazzz477 on Apr 18, 2013 16:34:21 GMT -5
Name: Achilles [formally] Proditan
Titles: The foul angel, Harbinger of Death, Dark Apostle
Age: 299
Physical Attributes: Facial attributes ...unknown...last known sighting of face...unknown...
Armour – black, bastardisation of Deathwatch armour.
Helmet – bastardisation of Chaplain skull helm.
Last known image of target=http://gazzz477.deviantart.com/art/Dark-Apostle-371194129?q=gallery%3Agazzz477%2F29732492&qo=1
Place of Origin: Baal
Organization/Affiliation: Blood Angels [formally], Deathwatch [formally], Chaos undivided
Personality: calm, cruel, brutal, often very nonchalant about combat. Prone to sudden changes in sanity.
Weapon/tool of choice: Tainted Crozius, bolt pistol, plasma pistol, deathwatch pattern bolter, relic blade – Artefact.
Goals: none specific, merely to travel the warp in search of planets to spread the word of chaos to
A RP sample of the character:
“I'm sorry brother. Today is difficult but tomorrow we all win”
It had seemed a millenia since he had uttered these words to his former team-mate. Manin..he was a fool, he had never seen the lies of the 'Imperial Truth'. Despite the fact he and his chapter were left for dead, he remained faithful.
As the ships of the dark gods slowly cast it's shadow over the soon to be doomed planet, the populace celebrated. Not due to their trust in the four gods, but instead due to their belief that they were servants of the false emperor. As the armies of the populace began to mass, the Dark Apostle laughed as he saw the Raptors and Warp Talons descend from the cargo hold, ready to tear waste to the defenders. And surely as he guessed it was only an hour before the ship's captain cried the warcry of his god over the PA system of the tainted battle barge;
”BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!“
personally Proditan was not too supportive of the foolish blood god, his warriors were far too single minded, the followers of Slaanesh are way too...sadistic. Whilst those that worship Nurgle are reliable for defence and sheer force they lack tactics and skill. The slaves of Tzeentch are, rather regrettably, not much better than the rest. The fifth god, Malal is barely known by anyone in this universe any more. As a dark apostle, Proditan is forced to follow all five gods, as much as it sickened him to spread the word of some of them – If he has to describe the acts of Slaanesh again, lets just say it wont be pretty.
A new army was growing, over five billion on the hive world, not bad. But then THEY appeared. They actaully sent Deathwatch astartes after one of their own? That's good, no better, BRILLIANT! Finally a challenge. The fallen astartes that joined the apostle, 8 marines that were smart enough to join the true gods from their former chapter, had decided to leave him to his machinations, as per usual. But every now and then, one lucky – unlucky seems more applicable – marine of the chapter sent along with the fools of the Ordos Xenos would breach his inner sanctum. Some where fast, others seemed slower most likely due to combat fatuige – a rare occurance in astartes – and were little treat. One charged in, crying the filth of the 'emperor of mankind', the apostle quickly silenced him, planting his tainted crozuis into the small area of unprotected neck, a clear design fault in the armour, before beheading the fool.
”Foolish dog, barking at shadows...tsk tsk, I merely wish for a challenge, but none of you...whelps, can measure to me!“ mocked the warrior. Little did he know that his so called challenge was just about to arrive;
”ACHILLES!!“
“Brother?” cried the apostle sadistically, bordering on the deranged. “So you survived our little encounter all those years ago? Ohh, but you're a bit too late.” chuckled the former astartes, stepping over the body of the gutted commissar, “I really have to run. But don't worry, I took the liberty of calling in an exterminatus for you...you can thank me later. It seems my access codes are still valid, who'd of thunk it?” laughing like a deranged lunatic, the apostle suddenly disappeared in a blast of blinding light, and re-appeared on his flagship lightyears away. “Another mission finished I do believe.” he calmly reported, wiping blood from his relic blade. “Now, what play-thing can you offer me now?”
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