great sorceror

“You don’t deserve this. A legion of strong warriors, a fleet of ships. And who are you? A savage from a backwater world.”

Darkness surrounded him when the warrior was left to his own devices. Those scant moments where he could not find solace in strategy, command or in the heat of battle itself. He hid it well, but his mind was a warzone all of it’s own, and not a war he knew how to fight.

“You ransacked your world, warping it at your command and you called it unity, destroying those clans who rose up against you. And they were right to do so. Who are you to tell them their way of life was wrong? Their magicks and rituals ground into dust under your boots as you burned their shrines and put their mystics to the blade.”

Muscles tensed and hair stood on end as the darkness fell upon him like a tidal wave.

“You are nothing. You are a simple creature fighting a war of gods. What are you to your father? A tool, a pawn.”

The warrior dropped to his knees. Tears fell from his face.

“Why are you here? To prove yourself? Honourless coward. You are no more a warrior than a club is a scalpel.”

Resist, brother. Weather the storm.

“Weakling. Resorting to aid of your "brothers”. You know they don’t trust you, even the Russ. You’re too unstable. Those self destructive rages, your self imposed seperation from them. What are you to Lupercal, or Sanguinius? Great warriors and leaders. You are a pitiful whelp compared to them.“

Be strong.

His eyes shot open and his cracked lips opened to let loose a painful roar. Tears soaked his craggy features.

"You did well, Bear.” A soothing voice said.

“Did I?” the Bear chuckled. “Why do I feel as if I failed again, just like every attempt to banish this before.” Camshron An Athach, Primarch of the Steel Claws legion Blinked away the aguinsh swirling in his mind. He stepped out onto a balcony of marble overlooking a sprawling city.

“You have a great burden. One which you have crafted into a weapon all of its own, I might add”

“One which drives me to insanity, you mean.”

“We all have daemons we must fight, brother. Some internal, some more…..physical. Perhaps this daemon is something that should stay with you. It makes you who you are, after all. The indomitable bear, the wall of steel, the will of stone.”

“Ah, the pompous titles that could fill tomes with their length and embellishment. I passed this curse to my legion, what of that?”

“You teach them to harness it just as you do. They are your sons, you must show them the way.”

Camshron grunted in displeasure.

“And what of you? What great burden do you have, great sorceror king?”

The crimson skinned giant laughed and walked to the side of the Great Bear with the rythmic clack of his staff as they looked over the gleaming city of Tizca.

“More than you know, Camshron. More than I hope you ever know.”

((A little look into the “darkness” I’ve alluded to before with my primarch. Let me know what you think!))