Le terminateur de la peste, lord Ligarius, était le suivant pour répondre, sa voix fortement déformée et dérangeant des ravages des maladies qui se fendaient à l'intérieur de lui. Sa voix était profonde, mais menaçante, et ses blessures s'évanouissaient. Le sang versé de divers orifices, de même que le pus et d'autres instruments du Seigneur de la peste. Il fallut à peine un regard pour reconnaître à qui il se rangeait, comme il était fermement, et avec ferveur un disciple de Nurgle. Dans ses six siècles, cependant, six siècles de guerres, de petites querelles et de service en faveur de la cause du grand-père Nurgle, il n'avait jamais rencontré l'apôtre des ténèbres, et n'avait jamais mis les pieds dans le navire sur lequel il se tenait maintenant. Ayant entendu parler de l'aumônier Erebus, il fut à la fois honoré de rencontrer un si jeune disciple du Chaos lui-même.
Cependant, juste parce qu'il a été honoré, ne voulait pas dire qu'il s'est prosterné ou même reconnu l'Apôtre des ténèbres, sauf pour une inclinaison vénérante de sa tête. Lorsque l'homme eut fini de parler, il tourna la tête vers les grands oncles qui le guidaient toujours, lui apparut toujours, même si les autres ne les voyaient pas; il se tourna et leur parla. "Grands oncles, vous avez entendu l'aumônier Erebus parler. J'obtiendrais ton conseil, si tu le donnes."
"Suivez-le. Servez la cause de Nurgle, et déchirez le cœur du Faux Empereur!» Grimegal fut le premier à parler, le plus enthousiaste des trois.
"Mmm, si cela correspond à la cause, pourquoi ne pas servir?" Bleaz, la seconde a parlé, toujours plus apathique du groupe.
« Débarrassez-vous de la tête du faux empereur, et revendiquez-la au nom du grand-père Nurgle! Répandre la maladie virulente sur la Terre sainte et faire crier le peuple au Grand-père pour le salut que seul Lui peut fournir! » Zaeleaz a dit, le plus violent des trois, et celui qui tient le plus d'emprise sur le Terminator de la plague. Leur pièce disait, leurs voix s'effaçaient dans le fond, et le Terminator plague leva la tête et leva sa masse au-dessus de sa tête. Lorsqu'il parla, sa voix profonde jaillit des murs, retentissant d'une sorte de dévotion que l'on ne trouve que dans les forces du Dieu de la peste.
"L'aumônier noir Erebus! Nous, les forces du Dieu de la peste, nous taillerons directement à la Sainte Terra, et nous arracherons la tête du corps, propageant la maladie à un empire mourant. Ce sera fait."
Name: Kallax The Divided
Age: 3,231 years old
Gender: Male
Race: Chaos Blessed Human
Height: 17 feet
Weight: 7 tons
Appearance: Kallax's body is...chaotic to say the least, no pun intended. When he ventures into realspace sections of his body take attributes from the four gods of chaos.
Head: Corrupted by Grandfather Nurgle, a large horn pushes through the remnants of his helmet as pus, mucus, and blood leaks from his empty sockets. Occasionally a long, diseased tongue will slither out of a hole where a mouth should be.
Left arm: Bronze armor stained with ash and blood. Fairly normal save for the hand which has grown larger, red, and clawed.
Right Arm: "Enhanced" by the prince of pleasure. The arm ends in a large pincer that, when opened, unleashes a mass of tentacles that dance with electric energy.
Torso: A single large eye in the center of his chest, always darting about wildly until Kallax has something to focus on. His back is dominated by a large pair of wings, always changing from bloody and burning, perfect and feathery, plague ridden and foul, or confusing and bright.
Legs: Powerful and sturdy, ending in taloned feet not unlike the Raptors under his command.
Equipment: Daemon Sword, Daemonic hide.
Powers:
- Right Arm of Kallax: Beyond being a mass of barbed tentacles and a pincher to boot the arm can release a cone of energy that lights the nerves of those in front it alight, causing the most exquisite agony a mortal can feel. The lucky ones die quickly. (Acts as a heavy flamer)
- Eye of Kallax: The great eye in the center of his chest allows Kallax to periodically release either a long range laser, cutting through armor like butter or a shorter range bolt of pure plasma. (Lascannon-meltagun, promise not to abuse)
- Wings: Farily simple, allows Kallax to fly into the heat of battle and land atop his targets.
Rank Among Chaos: Daemon Prince
Bio: Kallax's was never a truly remarkable being, always over looked by people who were slightly better or more capable. However what most people never thought was that the dog they never paid attention to would have the biggest bite. It all started with one system, four hive worlds and an industrial planet. It was here,the Chelladren system, he would gain ascension.
Now take in mind that this isn't the first time Kallax had conquered a planet, this would just be the first he attempted something on this scale. Kallax started by implanting four cells of cultists in each planet, one for each god of chaos. In unison they began to stoke the flames of hatred, hedonism, disease, and trickery in all of the hive worlds until eventually each fell to chaos. The people who resisted were exterminated if they were lucky, the unlucky ones were used as sacrifices or for the whims of Slaaneshi cultists. Inevitably however, the fun had to end and the Inquisition came.
Unfortunately it was help that came far too late, while the hive words fell to chaos Kallax himself had been creating shrines along the fifth planet and turned it into a great conduit. In one moment 500 psykers were sacrificed upon the very alters they created, causing a great psykic backlash that rippled throughout the system and activating the shrines purpose of tearing the very souls out of the inhabitants bodies. Kallax dedicated the whole ordeal to Chaos itself, in the process gaining ascension. The last the Inquisition saw of the Challedran system was it being pulled into the warp.
Aligned: Undivided
Retinue: 5 obliterators, 18 Slaaneshi Warp Talons, 16 Khornate Berserkers, 12 Plague Marines, 12 Noise Marines, 4 Chaos Sorcerers, 250 Undivided Marines, 4,000 Chaos Cultists divided equally between the 4 Gods.