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Edited by Immørtal Fulgrim: 9/11/2016 4:14:04 AM
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Prison of Exiles (RP - RoB)

[b][i]- An interlude for RoB and other realms, loosely tied to Warhammer 40k and several other themes.[/i][/b] [i] Hurtling through the aether, between the currents of space and time, soars a mighty vessel of steel and flesh, a starship of vast size and unimaginable power - The Bloodwrath. This is an ancient ship of legends, with a lengthy history that has appeared throughout time over tens of thousands of centuries. It has sailed through the warp, a gateway between stars and galaxies that does not abide by the laws of physics, and is inhabited by entities of unspeakable horror including gods of madness and chaos. The inhabitants of the ship are champions from many realms. With no memory of their arrival, they are bound together for a common cause - a cause that not even they can fathom. These are the stories of these exiles. [b]Welcome to Prison of Exiles.[/b][/i] [b][i]For New Arrivals:[/i][/b] [spoiler]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/126649858/0/0[/spoiler] [b][i]Biographies:[/i][/b] [spoiler]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/123300498/0/0[/spoiler] [b][i]Bloodwrath Information:[/i][/b] [spoiler]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/153882861/0/0[/spoiler] [b][i]Link to RoB reference:[/i][/b] [spoiler]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/120286322/0/0[/spoiler] - [b][i]The Bloodwrath will now be your home, but tread lightly, for this starship has a taste for blood, and a hunger for the souls of men to fuel it's fires of war. Consider this a warning, venturing into quarantined and off limits areas could lead to an unpleasant demise. The things that dwell in the dark are beyond you, and more insidious than you could imagine. [u]Current Happenings:[/u] - Your memories are blank as to your arrival, but there seems to be hope. Many are reporting visions brought on by depictions of an hourglass... Perhaps searching for banners, relics, books, or other items related to the hourglass could unlock the mystery of your arrival. The Rivers of Blood continue to flow. [/i][/b]

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  • Edited by Shadlezz: 6/10/2016 1:48:11 AM
    [b][i]War In Hell.[/i][/b] Noiratrom's wish had been fulfilled. He was a god. Combining his own powers with the powers of the now freed Isha, Eldar God of Regeneration and life, he had ascended into godhood. His humanity had been, for the most part, left behind, shedded. His new body was now an amalgamation of animalistic features, portraying his variety in powers. He had the wings of an eagle and the wings of a crow, the eye of a wolf and eye of an owl, the body and head of a snake, reptile legs and four reptile-like arms, long, majestic horns and the tail of a Salamander. His cult had spread, and was still spreading. All over the universe, chaotic cults were devoting themselves to the newborn God, converting others to his word. His agents had also spread within the ranks of the other chaos deities worshippers and were converting them to his rule. Daemonettes, bloodthirsters, plague marines and even sorcerers of Tzeentch were being brought under his flock, causing him to grow even more in power. The formless wastes were his kingdom now. The untamed, desert realm had been conquered by him even before his ascension. And ever since his rise to power, calling this place wastes was simply wrong. Twisted life sprawled in that region of the warp. Pink lakes, rivers and streams were spread sparsely across the land, with an ever chaotic flora, to the proper effigy of the warp. At the center of it rested his palace, made of unnatural, unreal marble. It had been renovated to fit his new shape and height. All across this island, the houses of his cult, his following of marines, the Sons of Chaos, that had been re-dubbed the Jade Dragons. They were, as it stood, the most populated legion of chaos marines. Their armours were an old white and faded black, but their chaotic markings were unique. While Khorne had his skulls and Slaanesh had its screaming mouths, Noiratrom had vegetation. His soldier's armours were covered in moss, vines and roots, and bore dragon-like features. They were a symbol of life, of rejuvenation. Of strength. Like trees that never die, the soldiers were enhanced by his power, and their worship of him made him stronger in return. Vegetation sprawled throughout Noiratrom's land, as his lone island stood like a fortress among the chaos of the warp, floating within it. No other god had reach there. This was his land. And for a moment, Noiratrom, who stood at the balcony of his palace, overlooking the forests of his massive island, felt contempt. As if this was how it was meant to be for him. And, in some way, it was. He wished he could end his quest here. Stop his war on the gods. But deep down, with sorrow, he knew he couldn't. There was no reasoning with the gods of chaos. Albeit he was one himself now, he was different than them all. He was not born into godhood. He was born a son of the human Emperor. He was twisted by the powers of chaos. He lived a life of hatred, servitude and distaste. At these memories, he clutched his fist. No more, he thought, would he let anyone suffer from their choices like he had. He remembered why he was waging his war. For all life in the universe. He had made that promise to Isha. He would not let the good of the warp powers that be be undermined by their constant strife and hatred. He reminded himself of his noble mission, and how this was but a chapter in his story. His armour gleamed in the light, it had changed much since the heresy caused by his brother. It was lighter now, since having adapted to his body. Instead of bulky power armour, it was now more like light armour, covering his legs, body and arms, but leaving some minor exposure. It was still bulky, what with him being fifty feet in height and all, but it was more fit for a god. It wasn't much for protection anymore, but rather decoration and memory. The helm of his brother, Alpharius, too had changed to fit him. He didn't really wear it much, but if he would need it, he could. Besides, with his powers, he could change his entire attire and body at will. He watched the pearlescent sky of the warp, ever changing. His soul was serene, at peace. He took a deep breath, smiling. [spoiler]closed. This is basically just a filler post to let know where Noiratrom stands in his current storyline. Hope you enjoyed.[/spoiler]

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