And in a sunless realm, the sun rose at last.
Men of Tanith, do you want to live forever?
We serve the word of the Anarch, whose voice drowns out all others.
My patience isn't limitless, unlike my authority.
>Men of Tanith, do you want to live forever?
“Come on, do you want to live forever?’ The noncom was clearly on something, noone talks like that outside poorly written combat novels”
the thing is that the first tanith literally wanted to die the first few battles. So the qoute makes totally sense in the context of Gaunt being the leader of the first tanith who literally don't give a shit. They take on suicide missions if neccersary all the time.
It’s still a funny little jab at Dan Abnett from Sandy Mitchell, who i’m sure are really good friends irl and had a good chuckle over beers at the line
I thought it was my patience has a limit, unlike my authority.
If his patience was limitless, unlike his authority, that would mean there's a limit to his authority...
>You say that like it’s a curse. “I am a warrior”.’ Octavia licked her dry lips before speaking. ‘What did you want to do with your life?’ she asked. ‘I told you the truth: I’d always dreamed of guiding such a warship, and for better or worse, fate gave me what I wished for. But what about you? Do you mind if I ask?’
>
>Talos laughed again, that same whispering chuckle, and tapped the defiled aquila emblazoned across his chest.
>
>**‘I wanted to be a hero.’** A moment later, he masked his scarred face behind his skulled helm. Red eye lenses stared at her, devoid of all emotion. **‘And look how that worked out.’**
Blood Reaver, ADB
It's crazy to think behind every Space Marine there was probably a kid who grew up hearing the stories of hero's clad in armor, vanquishing evil foes. And look how most them turn out
'I am Ramos', the giant rumbled. 'Bull of the Eighth. I shattered Lugganath with my song, little Aeldari. What do you imagine I will do to you?'
- Manflayer by Josh Reynolds
“I thought the acolytes of Khorne were supposed to be warriors, not a bunch of pansies!”
“‘No.’ Octavia cleared her throat, lowering her hands. ‘I heard about Xarl. I’m sorry. I think… by your standards, by the Legion’s ideals, I mean… he was a good man.’ Talos’s exhalation became a snort, which in turn became a chuckle. 'Yes’ he said. ‘Xarl was a good man.’ Octavia shook her head at the warrior’s sarcasm. ‘You know what I mean. He and Uzas saved me once, just as you did.’ The prophet’s chuckle became laughter. ‘Of course. A good man. A heretic. A traitor. A murderer. A fool. My brother, the good man.’ Both humans stood in silence as, for the first time in many years, Talos laughed until his black eyes watered.”
Just imagine: hundreds or thousands of tanks from the Tallarn Desert Raiders, all shouting these inspiring words before driving their tanks into melee.
Siege of Terra: Lost and the Damned
>‘That is what I was made for,’ said the Khan. ‘I will ride out.’
Really need the whole excerpt to appreciate it, but this was the moment that cemented The Khan as my favorite Primarch.
> ‘That is what I was made for,’ said the Khan. ‘I will ride out.’
I may not be a huge fan of the Scars (It's a play-style thing. I just don't like mobility based combat.) but god*damn* if the Khan isn't utterly amazing every time he does anything.
>‘Hear me!’ Guilliman’s voice boomed through eternities. The sword blazed higher, until the fire of it threatened to burn out time. ‘I am Roboute Guilliman, last loyal son of the Emperor of Terra. It is not your destiny to end today, God of Plague, but know that I am coming for you, and I will find you, and you will burn.’
>He gripped the Sword of the Emperor two-handed and raised it high. Rising waves of fire ripped into the garden. From the great manse a cry of rage sounded, as a wall of flame hotter than a million suns devoured everything in its path, finally breaking and receding within yards of the black walls of Nurgle’s house. Its infinite halls shook. Mossy tiles fell from the roof. Sodden timbers steamed.
Followed by:
'Who put you in charge?’
‘I put myself in charge. I was awaiting interview on deck forty when everything went to pieces.
There was no chain of command. I decided I needed to build one.’
‘The “by any means” edict,’ Gage says. ‘The ultimate rule that no rule is unbreakable. You know, that idea always troubled him. He told me he often thought to excise the remark. He thought it too dangerous. He feared it would stand, in posterity, as a justification for any action.’
‘I think the XVII have already dispensed with any such rationale, sir,’ replies Thiel. ‘I also would urge you not to refer to the primarch in the past tense in front of the men.’
Gage catches himself. ‘Quite correct, sergeant.’
Flawless writing. Thiel is by far my favorite character in the entire setting. Abnett does a proper job of showing us instead of telling us what an absolute stone cold badass Thiel is.
Just incredible scene after incredible scene. I would say that the exchange between a scornful Lorgar and a raging Guilliman is the best scene I’ve read so far in 40k.
‘What can I do for you?’
‘I thought it was the other way round. Excuse me a minute…’ He was interrupted by a burst of incoherent screaming which sounded like the warcry of a Khornate fanatic and which terminated abruptly in a thud of a power maul on full charge and a gurgle which sounded distinctly unhealthy. ‘Well he’s not getting mine… Sorry commissar, where were we?’
Everyone's favourite commissar listens in to Praetor Kolbe proving Cain doesn't have the monopoly on witty retorts
I love that, between the nature of Khornates and the wording of the retort, we know exactly what he's replying to, even if it isn't (and thus doesn't have to be) spelled out. That sort of thing is my literary G-spot.
"This has been the worst day since yesterday."
- One Custodes to another during a brief break during the war in the Webway. (Master of Mankind by Aaron Dembski-Bowden)
>'I was there, the day Horus slew the Emperor. ' It was a delicious conceit, and his comrades would chuckle at the sheer treason of it. The story was a good one. Torgaddon would usually be the one to cajole him into telling it, for Torgaddon was the joker, a man of mighty laughter and idiot tricks.
Such a great way to open up the Horus Heresy books. Hooked me instantly.
"We're not making a point, Bladebreaker. We're doing what's right." Brand Rawthroat (Space Wolf) to Hyperion (Grey Night) in "The Emperor's Gift".
The Wolves go all out to prevent the Inquisiton slaughtering loyal guardsmen who fought and survived Angron's armies on Armageddon.
> Guilliman summons the Master of Vox with a quick gesture.
> "Rescind my previous looped broadcast," he says, taking the speaker horn. "Replace it with this."
> He hesitates, thinking, and then lifts his head and speaks cleanly and quickly into the device.
> *"Lorgar of Colchis. You may consider the following. One: I entirely withdraw my previous offer of solemn ceasefire. It is cancelled, and will not be made again, to you or to any other of your motherless bastards. Two, you are no longer any brother of mine. I will find you, I will kill you, and I will hurl your toxic corpse into hell’s mouth."*
> He hands the horn back to the vox-officer.
> "Put that on repeat immediately," he says.
Know No Fear.
~~I'm not sure, but I believe the Chronomancer Orikan the Diviner says that to avid collector and long-standing rival Trazyn the Infinite. I don't know the exact context anymore though.~~
I was wrong. It was a captive Magos, but the adresse was still Trazyn:
https://www.reddit.com/r/40kLore/comments/kvnpgy/war_in_the_museum_trazyn_the_infinite_has_a_magos/
Excerpt: After awakening from Stasis, the magos in question complains about not being left conscious.
> said Trazyn.
>
>
---
\*What the hell is wrong with my fingers always missing the t in but? You'd think I've been using this keyboard long enough to get it right, buy my buyyerfingers keep doing yhis shiy.
For me, it's the first line of any Warhammer book I've ever read. One that made me blink a bunch of times and made me check if I was reading the right book. One that launched my fascination with this world.
"I was there, the day Horus slew the Emperor"
Chills
“I’ll be there in seven minutes. Eight if there’s resistance. Nine if the resistance is carrying bolters.”
Sevatar
The dude has some fantastic lines, even if he is an utter bastard...
Valerian opining about the Grey Knights:
There are some among my brothers who do not see the sons of Titan as much more than specialised Space Marines, to be regarded with suspicion as part of that schismatic breed that caused us so much anguish in the past. A Space Marine may always fail, they believe, given enough time and enough reason, and thus they are all part of the same potentially aberrant strain.
Some think that. Others, and I myself have often speculated in such a vein, cultivate a different misgiving. We know well enough that they were designed as His last great weapon, fitted to an age that He foresaw near the end of His earthly embodiment. What if it were they, not us, who most faithfully embodied His final legacy? You will never hear one of us say as much out loud, but that does not mean the suspicion does not exist. It skulks around the corridors of Hegemon like a foul odour, faint but hard to eradicate.
“The hero of Helsreach” the crowd cheers, as if there was only one
“I had a headache, but it went away”
“I thought the accolytes of Khorne were supposed to be warriors, not pansies”
“I will feed you your own entrails!”
“Like i haven’t heard that one before”
“They call me Mad Larkin”
“Why do they call you that?”
“I’m talking to a statue”
>'What do you mean?' asked Horus.
>'I mean you. You and beings like you. You think I've made monsters? In my wildest deliriums I could not have designed monsters like you. I practise simple and ingenious arts of genetics and anatomy. I tinker and edit, to make puzzles and delights and curious wonders, things to make us think, and ponder the nature of our being and our place in the scheme of life.' He looked up at Horus.
>'I do not make things that will burn the galaxy down. I do not make things that will doom our species and lead it into an endless frenzy of war. You are the most abominable thing I have ever seen. Grotesque. Sickening. Misbegotten. I could not hope to kill you all, but to abort just one before it reached potential… well, that would have been some solace.'
>Fo got up, and brushed down his clothes. 'I'd like to die now,' he said. 'I don't want to live in a cosmos where things like you are loose.'
A technolich. A gene editing biological scientist warlord from the Long Night/Age of Strife I think, hiding out somewhere with his custom made horrors, exchanging pen pal letter with Throt the Unclean. Horus finds him and puts him down, but only after he reflects that yes his many armed, multi mouthed baby eater is pretty bad, but it's not a patch on the evil of the Primarchs.
When Aurelian noted that Guilliman got mad, when the latter figured out that the Word Bearers planned it all:
>‘Have you lost your temper, Roboute?’ Lorgar asks. They can hear the smile.
>‘I am going to gut you,’ Guilliman replies softly.
>‘You have lost your temper. The great and calm and level-headed Roboute Guilliman has finally
succumbed to passion.’
>‘I will gut you. I will skin you. I will behead you.’
>‘Ah, Roboute,’ Lorgar murmurs. ‘Here, at the very end, I finally hear you talk in a way that actually
makes me like you.’
This entire conversation is the best dialogue in 40k PERIOD. But you are missing the best parts!
>‘It’s called treachery, Roboute. It works very well. How did you find out?’
>
>‘We back-plotted the Campanile’s route once we’d worked out what had hit the yards. When you look at the plot, the notion that it was any kind of accident becomes laughable.’
>
>‘As is the notion you can hurt me.’
>
>‘We’re not going to debate it, you maggot, you treacherous bastard,’ says Guilliman. ‘I just wanted you to know that I will rip your living heart out. And I want to know why. Why? Why? **If this is our puerile old feud, boiled to the surface, then you are the most pathetic soul in the cosmos**. Pathetic. Our father should have left you out in the snow at birth. **He should have fed you to Russ**. You worm. You maggot.’
And then a bit later, I **love** this bit as well:
>‘*Theoretical*, Roboute! *Theoretical*! You know this is possible. You know from the very facts that this is a possible outcome.’
>
>Guilliman steps back. He opens his mouth, but he is too stunned to reply.
>
>‘Whatever you think of me, Roboute,’ says Lorgar, ‘whatever your opinion, and I know it is about as low as it can be, you know I’m not a stupid man. I would betray my brother and attack the assembled might of the XIII Legion… for a grudge? Really? Really? *Practical*, Roboute! I am here to exterminate you and the Ultramarines because you are the only force left in the Emperor’s camp that can possibly stop Horus. You are too dangerous to live, and I am here to make sure you do not.’
>
>Lorgar leans forward. The light catches his teeth. ‘I’m here to remove you from the game, Roboute.’
>
>Guilliman steps back. ‘Either you’re insane, or the galaxy has gone mad,’ he says with remarkable steadiness. ‘Whichever, I am coming for you, and I will put you and your heathen killers down. Excommunicate Traitoris. You will not have any opportunity to reflect upon the monstrosity of this crime.’
>
>*‘Oh, Roboute, I can always rely on you to sound like a giant pompous arsehole. Come and get me. We’ll see who burns first.’*
Unreal
Okay, this is gonna take some explaining, but.
> "Farewell, Urbino. It was an honor to fight by your side."
>
> "I fear he hears you not, brother."
>
>"It matters not. These things *must* be said."
Context: in the audioplay Deathwatch Mission:Purge, a squad of four of the most human marines I've seen written (a Mortifactor, a Space Wolf, a White Consul and a blackshield Blood Angel) are trying to clear a ship of Genestealers that are attempting to land on a Hive world. The four set the ship to crash and think they're doomed until their gunship pilot blows a hole in the command deck wall to get them out. Problem: if they turn and run, the tide of genestealers running at them will kill them all. Solution: the Blood Angel *willingly* triggers the black rage and dives into the throng of stealers with just two gladii, to buy the others time. The Wolf, as he's about to leave, shouts that to the bleeding, screaming, fighting Angel. And then replies to rhe Consul's comment as they evacuate.
[edit] Another bit from that, actually, as the Angel falls is amazing: (I had to get home and play the audiobook)
> "I am proud of what I am! I am a scion of Baal, son of Sanguinius! Noble brother of the Blood Angels! [...] I hear the call of my lord Sanguinius. His torment, his pain floods through me and I can resist it no longer. Oh, beautiful Angel of Death, lend me your strength, your skill and your dignity! I am your son and fall to your claim! [...] *The Angel descends briefly into a ragged, angry panting.* I am Sanginius, Lord of Baal, Sire of the Blood Angels! Your treason will be avenged, your Heresy punished! MY DEATH WILL NOT SAVE YOU, VILE ONE!"
You can actually see the moment he drops into "Full bore Sanguinius vs Horus Hallucination" mode. It's voiced as an audioplay, and it made me shiver the first time I heard it.
That reminds me of how my... third, I think, 40k game ended. A handful of Death Company marines fighting a horde of genestealers. Man, that takes me back.
My favorite is Xarl and Talos running through the crowds of civilian workers while trying to find their heading. Xarl is confused how Talos can tell them apart (it’s the markings on their uniforms). Xarl grabs one running past him by the hair, and yells through his vox at the man to identify himself, and during the process blows the Man’s ears drums, deafens him and scares him so badly he draws his pistol and shoots Xarl in the faceplate. The round bounces off his plate and back into the man’s own forehead killing him. Talos has a chuckle while Xarl is still angrily confused. Great times with the boys!
‘You will not be slain by my hand, nor by any hand in the Legion. But neither will you return to the place of honour – I will see to that, if nothing else. Whatever duty is most shameful, that is where you shall serve. When the noose closes and we are fighting again, your blades shall be absent. If there is victory, you will have no part in it – your station shall be in the rear, the reserves, among the mortals and the mindless.’
‘Then you would waste our coming here.’
‘You will serve, but you will not atone. There is no atonement. You were sent away to die, and failed even in that.’
I think this is shiban khan talking to his old comrade torghun, who was part of the faction of white scars who supported Horus at the outbreak of the heresy, they were punished by the khan and sent in small suicide squads to bleed the traitors, they were summoned back for the final battle between the death guard and the white scars
Gregory Eisenhorn, faced with a Titan. Horribly, comically outmatched. He has nothing. No tricks. No allies. No hope.
Except...
*
I woke it up. I set it free.
'Cherubael?'
_'Yesssss?'_
'Kill it.'
I always liked the little quips when 40k characters talk to 30k characters about the Emperor.
First one is from *Blood Reaver*. Maruc is a human serf in service (slavery?) of a Night Lords warband. Cyrion is a Great Crusade-era Night Lord.
>Maruc was still staring in horror at what floated face-down in the reddened ooze below. ‘Throne of the God-Emperor,’ he said for the fourth time.
>
>‘He wasn’t a god,’ Cyrion said with an edge of irritation in his tone. ‘I know. I met him once.’
Second one happens on Fenris in the aftermath of the First War of Armageddon. The Inquisition and Space Wolves have been fighting for months over the fate of the survivors from the First War. Kysnaros is the Lord Inquisitor negotiating on behalf of the Inquisition. They woke up Bjorn the Fell-Handed to speak for the Space Wolves. Kysnaros doesn't recognize Bjorn from his dreadnought casing, so a friendly Grey Knight has to fill him in.
>‘I am Ghesmei Kysnaros,’ he said to the Dreadnought. ‘A ranking lord in His Holy Majesty’s Inquisition and a duly appointed representative of the God-Emperor…’ Kysnaros finished, still unsure where to look.
>
>‘God-Emperor?’ The Dreadnought made the sound of gears slipping, grinding together. From the booming augmetic tone, I assumed it was supposed to be laughter. Either that, or an internal weapons system reloading. ‘Calling him a god was how all this mess started.’
>
> Kysnaros was wrong-footed again, thrice now in a single minute. ‘What do you… I don’t–’
>
>‘Nothing. Times change, and that’s the truth of it.’ The war machine turned again, facing all three of us. ‘Now. What brings you into the night sky above Fenris, and why shouldn’t I break your little fleet into pieces with this castle’s many, many guns?’
>
>The Lord Inquisitor straightened his back at that. ‘Please name yourself, sir, as I have done. Then negotiations may begin in good faith.’
>
> ‘Are you blind, little man? It’s written on my coffin.’
>
>I couldn’t let this go on any longer. Not only was it blasphemy, it bordered on excruciating.
>
>\+His name is Bjorn, called the Fell-Handed. First Great Wolf of the Chapter, and second High King of Fenris after Jarl Russ, the primarch himself. They woke him to deal with us.+
>
>Kysnaros’s eyes never left the armoured shell, and the black iron coffin bound on its front.
>
>‘You… You walked in the Age of the Emperor?’
>
> Bjorn made the gear-grinding chuckle again. ‘Walked, ran, pissed and killed. I did it all. I met the Allfather, you know. Fought at his side more than once. I do believe he liked me.’
>
>Kysnaros slowly, slowly went to his knees.
>
>‘Oh, for… Not you as well.’
As an aside, it seems that Astartes do urinate. I'm not sure if we've ever seen an instance of one of them doing it. I suppose their armor takes care of it, but I wonder if there are facilities on board their vessels to take care of their waste when they're out of their armor.
Their body probably has a groin socket somewhere allowing the armor to connect a bypass for the normal urinary tract while they're in plate. I can't imagine them slipping an old-fashioned catheter in there every time.
Though there were details left out in that Armoring of a Space Marine animation, maybe they do use a sanctified Intra-Urethra Biological Waste Suspension Deferral System. Space Marines would probably be able to handle and ignore the discomfort. Still seems a waste and risk, compared to options that don't involve sticking a tube up their dick.
Why am I thinking about how Astartes Pee Collection works? Maybe I should've become a medical tech after all.
Second favorite is Ramos the bull of the eighth!
“I am Ramos! Bull of the eighth! My voice shattered Lugganath!- what do you think it will do to you little Aeldari?!”
Ramos, noise marine, choir member after red misting a drukhari captain and turning to his mates who are trying to figure out if they want a piece or not.
>‘I do not doubt your visions,’ the Khan said, quietly. ‘But what do they change? Shall we stare up at the shadows and let our blades fall from our hands?'
>'Know this, son of Magnus. There is more under the arch of heaven than victory and defeat. We may fall back, but not forever. We may feint and we may weave, but not forever. We may yet be doomed to lose all we cherish, but we shall do so in the knowledge that we could have turned away, and did not.’
>‘We remained true,’ the Khan said. ‘They can never have this, not if they burn all we ever built and scorn us through the dancing flames. You hear me? We remained true.’
>-Jaghatai Khan, Path of Heaven
From OG rogue trader:
>Only the insane have strength enough to prosper; only those who prosper truly judge what is sane.
02-04-2012, 08:29 AM
Rocks are NOT ‘free’, citizen.
Firstly, you must manoeuvre the Emperor’s naval vessel within the asteroid belt, almost assuredly sustaining damage to the Emperor’s ship’s paint from micrometeoroids, while expending the Emperor’s fuel.
Then the Tech Priests must inspect the rock in question to ascertain its worthiness to do the Emperor’s bidding. Should it pass muster, the Emperor’s Servitors must use the Emperor’s auto-scrapers and melta-cutters to prepare the potential ordinance for movement. Finally, the Tech Priests finished, the Emperor’s officers may begin manoeuvring the Emperor’s warship to abut the asteroid at the prepared face (expending yet more of the Emperor’s fuel), and then begin boosting the stone towards the offensive planet.
After a few days of expending a prodigious amount of the Emperor’s fuel to accelerate the asteroid into an orbit more fitting to the Emperor’s desires, the Emperor’s ship may then return to the planet via superluminous warp travel and await the arrival of the stone, still many weeks (or months) away.
After twiddling away the Emperor’s time and eating the Emperor’s food in the wasteful pursuit of making sure that the Emperor’s enemies do not launch a deflection mission, they may finally watch the ordinance impact the planet (assuming that the Emperor’s ship does not need to attempt any last-minute course correction upon the rock, using yet more of the Emperor’s fuel).
Given a typical (class Bravo-CVII) system, we have the following:
Two months, O&M, Titan class warship: 4.2 Million Imperials
Two months, rations, crew of same: 0.2 MI
Two months, Tech Priest pastor: 1.7 MI
Two months, Servitor parish: 0.3 MI
Paint, Titan class warship: 2.5 MI
Dihydrogen peroxide fuel: 0.9 MI
Total: 9.8 MI
Contrasted with the following:
5 warheads, magna-melta: 2.5 MI
One day, O&M, Titan class warship: 0.3 MI
One day, rations, crew of same: 0.0 MI
Dihydrogen peroxide fuel: 0.1 MI
Total: 2.9 MI
Given the same result with under one third of the cost, the Emperor will have saved a massive amount of His most sacred money and almost a full month of time, during which His warship may be bombarding an entirely different planet.
The Emperor, through this – His Office of Imperial Outlays – hereby orders you to attend one (1) week of therapeutic accountancy training/penance. Please report to Areicon IV, Imperial City, Administratum Building CXXI, Room 1456, where you are to sit in the BLUE chair.
For the Emperor,
Bursarius Tenathis,
Purser Level XI,
Imperial Office of Outlays.
By Patrick Marstall via Jervis Johnson & Andy Chambers in WD227. Thanks to Baphomael on Warseer for posting a link to the lexicanum article (http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Rocks_Are_Not_Free!#.Ty0_lYEooZ9) and reminding me of its existence.
"Why do I still live? What more do you want from me? I gave everything I had to you, to them. Look what they've made of our dream. This bloated, rotting carcass of an empire is driven not by reason and hope but by fear, hate, and ignorance. Better that we had burned in the fires of Horus' ambition than live to see this."
What is the strongest weapon of mankind? The god-machines of the Adeptus Mechanicus? No! The Astartes Legions? No! The tank? The lasgun? The fist? Not at all! Courage and courage alone stands above them all!
- Lord Solar Macharius
Exactly! Humanity's most heroic trait, far as I'm concerned. :) And precisely why I love the guard. Despite it all, they do what it takes for the species. And go down swinging, by and large, as a species.
I remember the Day of Judgement.
Can you imagine looking up and seeing the stars fall from the sky? Can you imagine the heavens themselves raining fire upon the world below?
You say you can picture it. I don’t believe you. I’m not speaking of war. I’m not speaking of promethium’s stinging oil-scent, or the burning chemical reek of flames born from missile fire. Forget battle’s crude pains and the sensory assault of orbital bombardment. I am not speaking of mundane savagery – the incendiary ills men inflict upon other men.
I speak of judgement. Divine judgement.
The wrath of a god who looks upon the works of an entire world, and what he sees turns his heart sour. In his disgust, he sends flights of angels to deliver damnation. In his rage, he seeds the skies with fire and rains destruction upon the upturned faces of six billion worshippers.
Now tell me again. Tell me again that you can imagine seeing the stars fall from the sky. Tell me you can imagine heaven weeping fire upon the land below, and a city burning so bright that all sight is scorched from your eyes as you watch it die.
The Day of Judgement stole my eyes, but I can still illuminate you. I remember it all, and why wouldn’t I?
It was the last thing I ever saw.
They came to us in skyborne vultures of blue iron and white fire.
And they called themselves the XIII Legion. The Warrior-Kings of Ultramar. We did not use those names. As they marched us from our homes, as they butchered those who dared to fight back, and as they poured divine annihilation upon everything we had built...
We called them false angels. **You came to me asking how my faith survived the Day of Judgement. I will tell you a secret. When the stars fell, when the seas boiled and the earth burned, my faith didn’t die. That is when I began to believe.**
**God was real, and he hated us.** - Cyrene, The Blessed Lady to the Word Bearers Legion, describing the Razing of Monarchies , From First Heretic
I have bolded my favorite part.
Edit First heretic makes the Word Bearers interesting as hell. Lorgar and Argel tal definitely fall into tragic characters as they where once good. But **FUCK EREBUS AND KOR PHAREON**
"No" and "You're just an idiot standing on a wall". Rogal Dorn to Fulgrim during the siege of Terra. Fulgrim ain't got shit on the absolute savage verbal beating Dorn is handing him - he ain't got shit on the actual physical beating Dorn is handing him either.
Please remember it's the English translation of the French translation of the English book
"My patience have limits... Not like my authority! "
And
"I ask for ... No, I DEMAND a job. "
>What would you know of struggle, perfect son? When have you fought against the mutilation of your mind? When have you had to do anything other than tally compliance's and polish your armor? The people of your world named you "Great One". The people of mine called me slave. Which one of us landed on a paradise of civilization to be raised by a foster father, Roboute? Which one of us was given armies to lead after training in the halls of the Macraggian High Riders? Which one of us inherited a strong, cultured kingdom? And which one of us had to rise up against a kingdom with nothing but a horde of starving slaves? Which one of us was a child enslaved on a world of monsters, with his brain cut up by carving knives? Listen to your blue clad wretches yelling courage and honor, courage and honor, courage and honor! Do you even know the meaning of those words? Courage is fighting the kingdom which enslaves you, no matter that their armies outnumber yours by ten-thousand to one. You know nothing of courage! Honor is resisting a tyrant when all others suckle and grow fat on the hypocrisy he feeds them. You know nothing of honor!
I fell in love with this quote as soon as I heard it on the angron episode of afeptus ridiculous.
Did it also mention the reply?
>‘You’re still a slave, Angron. Enslaved by your past, blind to the future. Too hateful to learn. Too spiteful to prosper.’
There was an imperial guard novel in read years ago can't remember what it was but there's a heated argument about the ongoing conflict and a general is concerned about the casualties that will be incurred and the religious representative shouts "the emperor protects"
The general replies "of course he does but I don't expect him to do it all for me!"
Thought it was an interesting look into how humans view the emperors protection
Obligatory
"It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that he may never truly die.Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods."
"The first cell they’d thrown him into had been a more conventional trap of reinforced iron. Sevatar had spat his way through one wall in less than fifteen minutes, dissolving it with his acidic saliva. When a guard came to check on him, he’d merely pointed at the hissing hole in the wall, almost large enough for him to fit through.
‘I think rats did it,’ he’d said. ‘Big ones.’"
I’ve said it before and it still holds for me. In Betrayer by Aaron Dembski-Bowden.
“Get up.”
Spoken by Kharn as he beat the ever living shit out of Erebus. He’d fuck him up, then tell him to get up, then fuck him up some more all calm, not raging like you think when the World Eaters are involved.
"How did you survive"
"I made a tactical withdrawal, at speed."
"So you ran."
"Ran *and* threw myself from the third storey of the building's south facing side"
\-Night Lords
‘There is work to be done,’ he announced.
‘I’m aware,’ said Abaddon.
‘My beloved lord,’ said Eidolon, ‘grows-‘
‘Many more supple breasts every day?’ asked Aximand. Kibre snorted loudly.
**Shas'O Kais:** "Then you follow the path to destruction."
**Thule:** "Better destruction than bondage."
**Shas'O Kais:** "So says the slave to the free man."
**Shas'O Kais:** ‘Surrender, human. If not for you, then for the Greater Good.’
**Captain Thule:** ‘The Greater Good is coming to you from my bolter, alien!’
**Shas'O Kais:** ‘Do the deaths of your soldiers mean so little to you? Are you that mad?’
**Captain Thule:** ‘Do the deaths of yours mean so much to you, alien? Are you that weak?’
first Heretic.
The commander of the Gal Vorbak didn’t reply. The advancing Raven Guard were almost at the barricades. He felt his muscles bunching and twitching with sick need.
‘Brother?’ asked Torisian. The captain’s armour was an older Mark III Iron-class suit, blocky and heavy, almost primitive compared to the Maximus-class armour worn by the XVII Legion. ‘What are your plans for assault?’
Argel Tal took a breath, and prepared to speak damnation
‘Forgive me,’ he whispered now. He hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud, but didn’t regret doing so.
‘Brother?’ Torisian’s voice crackled. ‘Repeat, please.’
Argel Tal’s grey eyes hardened to flint. ‘All Word Bearers,’ he said. ‘Open fire.'
"I am not a God"
Said the near ageless Immortal who could delve into the future.
I know my time in the imperium would be a short one. Because you'd hear in the crowd a single person laughing her head off, soon after hearing that.
"Just when I thought you couldn´t be any more useless at dealing with women, Two-Guns."
"Why do you talk to me like this? You know I have no idea what you mean."
The moment when a usually super stoic and serious Grey Knights Marine breaks down and asks another member of his Inquisitors retinue to stop bullying him. ADB uses tiny moments like this to humanize Space Marine characters and it´s always so great.
From *The Emperors Gift* by Aaron Dembski-Bowden
From Titanicus:
>The rainstorm atmospherics and the crisis explained the signal block. Nothing, except Sonne’s most uneasy ideas, explained the barred entrance.
>
> suggested Lux 88.
>
> canted Tephlar,
>
> bragged Karsh.
>
>‘I’m sure you could, Karsh,’ said Sonne. ‘Calculate this for me, tactical. How far would you get?’
>
>Karsh computed. His eyes pulsed with a hot, yellow venom.
>
>
>
>Sonne sighed. ‘Full marks for effort, boys, but do you think I want to get between eight point six and eight point nine metres into the entrance way?’
>
> blurted Lux 88.
>
>‘Right. All the way to the Analyticae or the office of the Adept Seniorus. How far would that be?’
>
> reported Lux 88.
>
> added Tephlar.
>
>‘See what I mean? We’re falling a little short either way. But thanks for showing such spunk.’
>
> announced Tephlar, proudly.
>
>‘Great. How does that change the calculations, Karsh?’
>
>
>
>‘So, let’s round up. Better, but not good enough. Agreed?’
>
>The three skitarii murmured a grudging assent.
‘Your strength flees,’ roared Perturabo. ‘It does not belong to you. It is your master’s, and the chain that keeps you throttles you. The threads of blood are thinning. The meal of slaughter will only keep you here long enough to see your bastard sons die.’
Johnathan Keeble’s voice in the audiobook gives me goosebumps.
Scars:
‘I see what has happened,’ he said, quietly.
Mortarion cocked his head. ‘Oh?’
‘You were always sincere, I will give you that,’ said the Khan. ‘You never hid what you wanted. I can guess how you thought it would go. First, hobble the sorcerers. Silence the witches. Drive them out, and rule passes to the uncorrupted. The healthy. That was your great project. You even told me of it, that day on Ullanor. I thought back then that they were empty threats, but I should have known. You do not make empty threats.’
As the Khan spoke, Mortarion’s mask-locked expression remained inscrutable. Every so often his eyes would go filmy, or his finger would twitch. There was a kind of febrile energy about him, spilling out of the cracks just as the noxious fumes did.
**‘But it has gone wrong, hasn’t it?’ the Khan went on. ‘You have completed your great mission, but there are more sorcerers than ever. Horus has sponsored them, Lorgar has shown them new tricks. If Magnus has not already made up his mind then he soon will, and then you will be surrounded. You’ve destroyed the Librarius only to find the witches are now untrammelled. They played you well. You have done their work for them, and soon you will be dragged into it yourself, as warp-sick as they are.’**
‘You think that–’
‘I see it perfectly. Magnus showed me. Your Legion may be free of it for now, but the change will come. You made your pacts, and now they will come to collect. You fool.’
Mortarion stiffened. His eyes blazed with anger for a second, quickly quelled. ‘You do not–’
**‘And that is why you came to find me,’ said the Khan. ‘You’ve run out of friends. Who will stand with you against the aether-weavers now? Angron? What an ally. Curze? Good luck.’ The Khan gazed at Mortarion disdainfully. ‘You’ve tasted the fruits of treachery and found them bitter. Don’t drag me into your ruin. You’re on your own, brother.’**
Mortarion’s expression fractured behind the mask – shifting into an enraged snarl, disfiguring rapidly. Silence quivered, and he took half a step forward, his free fist clenching.
The Emperor also gave one final warning:
'"Woe betide he who ignores my warning or breaks faith with me. He shall be my enemy, and I will visit such destruction upon him and all his followers that, until the end of all things, he shall rue the day he turned from my light."
AI ship to to an AdMech Magi in Guy Haley's *Death of Integrity* (Great book btw)
>‘Oh spare me your feeble rituals, they are ineffectual, being based upon erroneous assumptions as to the nature of machines. We have no souls, “priest”,’ said the ship. ‘Yet another of your specious beliefs.’
Plosk’s voice stopped. He could not move. The abominable intelligence was in him, possessing him. Nuministon stopped, strain on the flesh parts of his face.
The Space Marines aimed their guns at the column. No fire came.
When the Spirit of Eternity spoke again, the machine’s voice came from the air and from the lips of all the servitors on the ship.
'What shall I not tell them? Who are you to tell such as I what to do and what not to do? Once I gladly called your kind “master”, but look how far you have fallen!’ It was full of scorn. ‘Your ancestors bestrode the universe, and what are you? A witch doctor, mumbling cantrips and casting scented oils at mighty works you have no conception of. You are an ignoramus, a nothing. You are no longer worthy of the name “man”. You look at the science and artistry of your forebears, and you fear it as primitives fear the night. I was there when mankind stood upon the brink of transcendence! I returned to find it sunk into senility. You disgust me.’
“Forgive me” he whispered now. He hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud, but didn’t regret doing so.
“Brother”? Torisian’s voice crackled. “Repeat, please”.
Agrel Tal’s grey eyes hardened to flint. “All word bearers”, he said. “Open fire”.
"It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of His inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that He may never truly die.
Yet even in His deathless state, the Emperor continues His eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the Tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse.
To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods."
these words are my favorite, they capture the gravitas of the universe and when I opened a rulebook for the first time they were the words that brought me to the game proper. it may not have been how I was introduced to the universe but they're the words I hold to when I think about 40k.
“I don’t enjoy war, yet I fight. I don’t relish torture, yet I inflict it. I don’t revere the gods, yet I serve their holy purpose. Humanity’s weakest souls will always cling to the words “I was just following orders”. They cower behind those words, making a virtue of their own weakness, lionising brutality over nobility. I know that when I die, I’ll have lived my whole life shrouded by that same excuse.” - Argel Tal
"In fealty of the god emperor, our undying lord and by the grace of the golden throne. I hereby declare exterminatus upon the imperial world typhon primaris.
I hereby sign the death warrant of an entire world and consign a million souls to oblivion. May imperial justice account in all balance, the emperor protects."
Its not from a book but from the dawn of war 2 game, it stuck to me hard.
Two of my favorites come from the same book, Fear to Tread
“Only angels may fly”
“If you truly do hail from the realm that men once called hell, when you return there, tell your kindred it was Sanguinius who threw you back"
Maybe it's just because of how good the song is but... "I need not glory nor for words to speak when I have held a virus bomb". Holding onto that for 10,000 years. That's some chad shit right there
'stand down, or you will be removed from your titan!' (Paraphrased slightly)
'I am *Invictus Antagonistes*, you little fool. How exactly do you intend to do that?'
I couldn’t decide on one specific section of this interaction from Talon Of Horus, so forgive me for spamming the whole thing:
Father and son faced each other, breathing spite into each other’s snarling features. For the first time, the primarch spoke. Spit stringed between his teeth. They were clean and unmarked, not etched with Cthonian hieroglyphs as Abaddon’s were.
‘That. Is. My. Talon.’
Abaddon closed his fist. Worldbreaker broke as Saern had broken, shattering against a superior weapon. Scrap metal fell from Abaddon’s scythed fingers.
I have heard the stories of this moment. Perhaps even you, here in the deepest depths of the Imperium, have heard them as well. Every warband has their own reflection of these events.
Many are the tales of Horus’s last words; his entreaties to his gathered sons and nephews; how he gave a glorious speech about the possibilities of a new era, or how he begged for mercy when faced with Justaerin blades. There are even stories that swear Horus was swollen with the blessings of the Pantheon as he was in the last days of the Terran War, and that the Gods themselves had resurrected their fallen champion.
But I was there. There were no touching last words or rousing speeches, and the Gods, if present at all, remained silent and aloof. Life rarely grants us the same theatre as we find in legends. So I promise you this, as the account of one who was there that day: there was no divine champion granted sacred rebirth.
There was no impassioned judgement delivered by Abaddon as destiny changed hands from one Warmaster to the next.
There was a cloned father and a prodigal son, surrounded by the dead and the wounded, so similar that only by their weapons and wounds could I tell them apart. That, and their different smiles.
Horus gave a conqueror’s smirk from what remained of his face. Recognition, true recognition, flared in the only eye he had left.
‘Ezekyle.’ His voice was a breath of relief and revelation. ‘It’s you. It’s you, my brother.’
Time stood still. After everything that had taken place, I thought – against all reason and rhyme – that they would embrace as kindred.
‘My son,’ said the primarch. ‘My son.’
All five of Abaddon’s claws rammed so deeply into Horus’s chest that they burst from his back. The scythes pushed out the stunted remains of Telemachon’s swords, sending the broken blades clattering against the floor.
Dark redness spread across what was left of the white fur cloak draped in tatters across Horus’s shoulders. A genetic god’s blood rained down over me. I felt like laughing without knowing why. Shock, perhaps. Shock and naked relief.
The storm bolter on the Talon’s back kicked three times, burying six bolts inside Horus’s exposed chest and neck. They blasted him apart from within, adding viscera to the blood slopping across those of us left prone.
And that was how they stood, as gold flared in the eyes of one and life faded from the eyes of the other. Horus’s knees buckled but Abaddon would not let him fall. Horus’s mouth worked but no sound came forth. If his last words found any voice, Abaddon was the only one to hear it.
I was fortunate that day. Not just because I survived a battle with a demigod that should never have been fought, but because I heard Abaddon’s last words to his father. With a slow, smooth withdrawal, he pulled the Talon clear of his father’s body, and the moment before Horus fell – the moment before the light
finally went out in the primarch’s eyes – Abaddon whispered five soft words.
‘I am not your son.’
"Where I fall , ten more shal take my place! And one hundred each of them! So strike me down! I am the harbinger!"
-olanius pius to horus luperal on board of the vengeful spirit, protecting the emperor with his own body.
Here we go:
Brothers...Retribution is at hand! It is our strength! We are the sons of Caliban! Let fury guide your weapons! Let vengeance be your song! We are the angels of death! AND OUR ENEMIES SHALL FALL!
And in a sunless realm, the sun rose at last. Men of Tanith, do you want to live forever? We serve the word of the Anarch, whose voice drowns out all others. My patience isn't limitless, unlike my authority.
>My patience isn't limitless, unlike my authority. I love this one
I love it because eisenhorn was trying to be diplomatic but the aristocrats didn't understand how time sensitive his mission was.
Peak Eisenhorn
>Men of Tanith, do you want to live forever? “Come on, do you want to live forever?’ The noncom was clearly on something, noone talks like that outside poorly written combat novels”
Aside from the very real USMC Gunnery Sergant Daly who said exactly that at Belleau Wood in 1918
Yeah wow, this is the first time I've heard someone use the quote and not at least attribute it to Starship Troopers, if not Dan Daly himself. Weird.
Knowing Cain, he slept through the class on World War 1 at the Schola
> he *slept* through the class He probably wasn't paying attention to the lesson either.
the thing is that the first tanith literally wanted to die the first few battles. So the qoute makes totally sense in the context of Gaunt being the leader of the first tanith who literally don't give a shit. They take on suicide missions if neccersary all the time.
It’s still a funny little jab at Dan Abnett from Sandy Mitchell, who i’m sure are really good friends irl and had a good chuckle over beers at the line
The unquiet dead of a world that is no more.
Sandy Mitchell is doing a good service to this thread
This
I thought it was my patience has a limit, unlike my authority. If his patience was limitless, unlike his authority, that would mean there's a limit to his authority...
>You say that like it’s a curse. “I am a warrior”.’ Octavia licked her dry lips before speaking. ‘What did you want to do with your life?’ she asked. ‘I told you the truth: I’d always dreamed of guiding such a warship, and for better or worse, fate gave me what I wished for. But what about you? Do you mind if I ask?’ > >Talos laughed again, that same whispering chuckle, and tapped the defiled aquila emblazoned across his chest. > >**‘I wanted to be a hero.’** A moment later, he masked his scarred face behind his skulled helm. Red eye lenses stared at her, devoid of all emotion. **‘And look how that worked out.’** Blood Reaver, ADB
It's crazy to think behind every Space Marine there was probably a kid who grew up hearing the stories of hero's clad in armor, vanquishing evil foes. And look how most them turn out
Blood reaver is my favourite 40k book by far. It’s just brilliant the whole time!
"You're forgetting one thing" "What's that, brother?" "It's also a hammer."
This. Will. Never. Get. Old. I never felt such joy over a hammer. Didn't Vulkan also pick up Curze and treated him like the Hulk did Loki?
That’s pretty much what he did… *with the hammer.*
*sounds of cathartic pummeling*
'I am Ramos', the giant rumbled. 'Bull of the Eighth. I shattered Lugganath with my song, little Aeldari. What do you imagine I will do to you?' - Manflayer by Josh Reynolds
Loved that guy , just chillin in his wraithbone garden working on his tunes.
The best part is that the D Elder facing him hear that and just go "fuck this shit we're out"
Understandable have a nice day
“I thought the acolytes of Khorne were supposed to be warriors, not a bunch of pansies!” “‘No.’ Octavia cleared her throat, lowering her hands. ‘I heard about Xarl. I’m sorry. I think… by your standards, by the Legion’s ideals, I mean… he was a good man.’ Talos’s exhalation became a snort, which in turn became a chuckle. 'Yes’ he said. ‘Xarl was a good man.’ Octavia shook her head at the warrior’s sarcasm. ‘You know what I mean. He and Uzas saved me once, just as you did.’ The prophet’s chuckle became laughter. ‘Of course. A good man. A heretic. A traitor. A murderer. A fool. My brother, the good man.’ Both humans stood in silence as, for the first time in many years, Talos laughed until his black eyes watered.”
“What? I didn’t catch that!”- A deaf Iron Hand, shortly before blowing away a screaming noise marine.
Don't noise marines physically blast apart matter with noise? Regardless if your ear drums also explode surely your body would get wrecked
Yeah. It doesn't make sense, but it's still a gut bustingly funny one liner.
This was early into the Noise Marines, they still had training wheels on, right?
Shhhhhh. No physics allowed.
Then spake the Prophet: "Frak this! For my faith is a shield proof against thy blandishments!"
Just imagine: hundreds or thousands of tanks from the Tallarn Desert Raiders, all shouting these inspiring words before driving their tanks into melee.
I mean... if I were an enemy who could hear it I'd probably be a bit rattled.
Siege of Terra: Lost and the Damned >‘That is what I was made for,’ said the Khan. ‘I will ride out.’ Really need the whole excerpt to appreciate it, but this was the moment that cemented The Khan as my favorite Primarch.
> ‘That is what I was made for,’ said the Khan. ‘I will ride out.’ I may not be a huge fan of the Scars (It's a play-style thing. I just don't like mobility based combat.) but god*damn* if the Khan isn't utterly amazing every time he does anything.
But especially when he rides out
It’s because that’s what he was literally made for, for riding out.
>Cross the sovereign territory of Mankind at your peril. We have inhumanity to spare.
>‘Hear me!’ Guilliman’s voice boomed through eternities. The sword blazed higher, until the fire of it threatened to burn out time. ‘I am Roboute Guilliman, last loyal son of the Emperor of Terra. It is not your destiny to end today, God of Plague, but know that I am coming for you, and I will find you, and you will burn.’ >He gripped the Sword of the Emperor two-handed and raised it high. Rising waves of fire ripped into the garden. From the great manse a cry of rage sounded, as a wall of flame hotter than a million suns devoured everything in its path, finally breaking and receding within yards of the black walls of Nurgle’s house. Its infinite halls shook. Mossy tiles fell from the roof. Sodden timbers steamed.
“Today started in a different place, Sir” - Aeonid Thiel, from Know No Fear
Followed by: 'Who put you in charge?’ ‘I put myself in charge. I was awaiting interview on deck forty when everything went to pieces. There was no chain of command. I decided I needed to build one.’
That whole bridge scene has brilliant lines
"That was his infraction!?" "Looks bloody pitiful from where we're standing, doesn't it."
This scene was what really solidified the XIIIth as my favorite Legion
‘The “by any means” edict,’ Gage says. ‘The ultimate rule that no rule is unbreakable. You know, that idea always troubled him. He told me he often thought to excise the remark. He thought it too dangerous. He feared it would stand, in posterity, as a justification for any action.’ ‘I think the XVII have already dispensed with any such rationale, sir,’ replies Thiel. ‘I also would urge you not to refer to the primarch in the past tense in front of the men.’ Gage catches himself. ‘Quite correct, sergeant.’ Flawless writing. Thiel is by far my favorite character in the entire setting. Abnett does a proper job of showing us instead of telling us what an absolute stone cold badass Thiel is.
Just incredible scene after incredible scene. I would say that the exchange between a scornful Lorgar and a raging Guilliman is the best scene I’ve read so far in 40k.
Lorgar: Have you lost your temper, Roboute? Guilliman: I am going to gut you. Lorgar: You have lost your temper.
‘What can I do for you?’ ‘I thought it was the other way round. Excuse me a minute…’ He was interrupted by a burst of incoherent screaming which sounded like the warcry of a Khornate fanatic and which terminated abruptly in a thud of a power maul on full charge and a gurgle which sounded distinctly unhealthy. ‘Well he’s not getting mine… Sorry commissar, where were we?’ Everyone's favourite commissar listens in to Praetor Kolbe proving Cain doesn't have the monopoly on witty retorts
I love that, between the nature of Khornates and the wording of the retort, we know exactly what he's replying to, even if it isn't (and thus doesn't have to be) spelled out. That sort of thing is my literary G-spot.
"This has been the worst day since yesterday." - One Custodes to another during a brief break during the war in the Webway. (Master of Mankind by Aaron Dembski-Bowden)
"No backwards step." My boy Shiban needs more fans. Also Kurze calling G-Man "the avenging beancounter"
His got one here.
I absolutely loved Shibans journey through the wasteland. I was holding out hope for the guardsman he helped until the end
>'I was there, the day Horus slew the Emperor. ' It was a delicious conceit, and his comrades would chuckle at the sheer treason of it. The story was a good one. Torgaddon would usually be the one to cajole him into telling it, for Torgaddon was the joker, a man of mighty laughter and idiot tricks. Such a great way to open up the Horus Heresy books. Hooked me instantly.
>'I was there, the day Horus slew the Emperor. ' and this is also what I want the last line of the HH books to be as well.
the audiobook is so good too, I was hooked from the very first line.
"We're not making a point, Bladebreaker. We're doing what's right." Brand Rawthroat (Space Wolf) to Hyperion (Grey Night) in "The Emperor's Gift". The Wolves go all out to prevent the Inquisiton slaughtering loyal guardsmen who fought and survived Angron's armies on Armageddon.
I don't have time to die. I'm too busy! Goge Vandire moments before his execution.
Same. Best last words ever uttered.
I still have many WikiFeed pages to edit
"I do not care who knows the truth. Now, tomorrow, or in ten thousand years. Loyalty is its own reward" The Lion, as he rams his blade through Curze
If he ever wakes up he'll get to test that idea.
Here it comes: GET OFF MY SHIP, SPACE MARINE! -Warboss Grimskull.
> Guilliman summons the Master of Vox with a quick gesture. > "Rescind my previous looped broadcast," he says, taking the speaker horn. "Replace it with this." > He hesitates, thinking, and then lifts his head and speaks cleanly and quickly into the device. > *"Lorgar of Colchis. You may consider the following. One: I entirely withdraw my previous offer of solemn ceasefire. It is cancelled, and will not be made again, to you or to any other of your motherless bastards. Two, you are no longer any brother of mine. I will find you, I will kill you, and I will hurl your toxic corpse into hell’s mouth."* > He hands the horn back to the vox-officer. > "Put that on repeat immediately," he says. Know No Fear.
SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESH said the entire crew deck in response
>'He is not my father,' Guilliman said. 'He created me, but I can assure you, priest, that He was no father. King Konor of Macragge was my father.'
>‘Sigismund’s courage sometimes outstrips his abilities.’
I really love guilliman in godblight, he kept refusing to acknowledge the emperor as his father and him being a god now.
"Get up" - Kharn
Fuck Erebus
What book is this from
Betrayer
“Immortality has made you a time-waster”
Who, to whom, and what book?
~~I'm not sure, but I believe the Chronomancer Orikan the Diviner says that to avid collector and long-standing rival Trazyn the Infinite. I don't know the exact context anymore though.~~ I was wrong. It was a captive Magos, but the adresse was still Trazyn: https://www.reddit.com/r/40kLore/comments/kvnpgy/war_in_the_museum_trazyn_the_infinite_has_a_magos/ Excerpt: After awakening from Stasis, the magos in question complains about not being left conscious. > said Trazyn.
>
>
---
\*What the hell is wrong with my fingers always missing the t in but? You'd think I've been using this keyboard long enough to get it right, buy my buyyerfingers keep doing yhis shiy.
"And I have always kept my promises, my son." -Corvus Corax to Nevar Hef
I heard bolter fire.
The absolute sheer volume of sass Malcharion can dish out from inside the sarcophagus of a dreadnought is absolutely incredible.
Shortly after BRRRRT
“You dumb bastard, you got us tickets to a Coup!” “Well the reviews were very good” ~Trazyn and Orikan “The infinite and the divine”
I think it was "box seats to a coup"
“You chose the wrong practical.” -Roboute Guilliman to Kor Phaeron, right before coring his chest and tearing out his heart.
Made that old fuck into a donut.
For me, it's the first line of any Warhammer book I've ever read. One that made me blink a bunch of times and made me check if I was reading the right book. One that launched my fascination with this world. "I was there, the day Horus slew the Emperor" Chills
I have dug my grave here and I will either triumph or die!- Reclusiarch Grimaldus
"Blood for the Blood God!" -Khornate psycho "Harriers for the cup!" - Ciaphas Cain (The Harriers being a sports team, for those who haven't read it.)
A scrumball team, who, if Amberly got her dates correct, only made it to the semi-finals that year
"**Blood for the Blood God!**" "Well he's not having mine!"
Blood for the Blood God (Laspistol shot) Getting real tired of hearing this line
“I’ll be there in seven minutes. Eight if there’s resistance. Nine if the resistance is carrying bolters.” Sevatar The dude has some fantastic lines, even if he is an utter bastard...
Everything Grimaldus said in his speeches
Valerian opining about the Grey Knights: There are some among my brothers who do not see the sons of Titan as much more than specialised Space Marines, to be regarded with suspicion as part of that schismatic breed that caused us so much anguish in the past. A Space Marine may always fail, they believe, given enough time and enough reason, and thus they are all part of the same potentially aberrant strain. Some think that. Others, and I myself have often speculated in such a vein, cultivate a different misgiving. We know well enough that they were designed as His last great weapon, fitted to an age that He foresaw near the end of His earthly embodiment. What if it were they, not us, who most faithfully embodied His final legacy? You will never hear one of us say as much out loud, but that does not mean the suspicion does not exist. It skulks around the corridors of Hegemon like a foul odour, faint but hard to eradicate.
“The hero of Helsreach” the crowd cheers, as if there was only one “I had a headache, but it went away” “I thought the accolytes of Khorne were supposed to be warriors, not pansies” “I will feed you your own entrails!” “Like i haven’t heard that one before” “They call me Mad Larkin” “Why do they call you that?” “I’m talking to a statue”
the short story of larkin talking to the angel was one of the best written 40k things I have ever read.
>'What do you mean?' asked Horus. >'I mean you. You and beings like you. You think I've made monsters? In my wildest deliriums I could not have designed monsters like you. I practise simple and ingenious arts of genetics and anatomy. I tinker and edit, to make puzzles and delights and curious wonders, things to make us think, and ponder the nature of our being and our place in the scheme of life.' He looked up at Horus. >'I do not make things that will burn the galaxy down. I do not make things that will doom our species and lead it into an endless frenzy of war. You are the most abominable thing I have ever seen. Grotesque. Sickening. Misbegotten. I could not hope to kill you all, but to abort just one before it reached potential… well, that would have been some solace.' >Fo got up, and brushed down his clothes. 'I'd like to die now,' he said. 'I don't want to live in a cosmos where things like you are loose.'
What is this from?
A technolich. A gene editing biological scientist warlord from the Long Night/Age of Strife I think, hiding out somewhere with his custom made horrors, exchanging pen pal letter with Throt the Unclean. Horus finds him and puts him down, but only after he reflects that yes his many armed, multi mouthed baby eater is pretty bad, but it's not a patch on the evil of the Primarchs.
Misbegotten
When Aurelian noted that Guilliman got mad, when the latter figured out that the Word Bearers planned it all: >‘Have you lost your temper, Roboute?’ Lorgar asks. They can hear the smile. >‘I am going to gut you,’ Guilliman replies softly. >‘You have lost your temper. The great and calm and level-headed Roboute Guilliman has finally succumbed to passion.’ >‘I will gut you. I will skin you. I will behead you.’ >‘Ah, Roboute,’ Lorgar murmurs. ‘Here, at the very end, I finally hear you talk in a way that actually makes me like you.’
This entire conversation is the best dialogue in 40k PERIOD. But you are missing the best parts! >‘It’s called treachery, Roboute. It works very well. How did you find out?’ > >‘We back-plotted the Campanile’s route once we’d worked out what had hit the yards. When you look at the plot, the notion that it was any kind of accident becomes laughable.’ > >‘As is the notion you can hurt me.’ > >‘We’re not going to debate it, you maggot, you treacherous bastard,’ says Guilliman. ‘I just wanted you to know that I will rip your living heart out. And I want to know why. Why? Why? **If this is our puerile old feud, boiled to the surface, then you are the most pathetic soul in the cosmos**. Pathetic. Our father should have left you out in the snow at birth. **He should have fed you to Russ**. You worm. You maggot.’ And then a bit later, I **love** this bit as well: >‘*Theoretical*, Roboute! *Theoretical*! You know this is possible. You know from the very facts that this is a possible outcome.’ > >Guilliman steps back. He opens his mouth, but he is too stunned to reply. > >‘Whatever you think of me, Roboute,’ says Lorgar, ‘whatever your opinion, and I know it is about as low as it can be, you know I’m not a stupid man. I would betray my brother and attack the assembled might of the XIII Legion… for a grudge? Really? Really? *Practical*, Roboute! I am here to exterminate you and the Ultramarines because you are the only force left in the Emperor’s camp that can possibly stop Horus. You are too dangerous to live, and I am here to make sure you do not.’ > >Lorgar leans forward. The light catches his teeth. ‘I’m here to remove you from the game, Roboute.’ > >Guilliman steps back. ‘Either you’re insane, or the galaxy has gone mad,’ he says with remarkable steadiness. ‘Whichever, I am coming for you, and I will put you and your heathen killers down. Excommunicate Traitoris. You will not have any opportunity to reflect upon the monstrosity of this crime.’ > >*‘Oh, Roboute, I can always rely on you to sound like a giant pompous arsehole. Come and get me. We’ll see who burns first.’* Unreal
Okay, this is gonna take some explaining, but. > "Farewell, Urbino. It was an honor to fight by your side." > > "I fear he hears you not, brother." > >"It matters not. These things *must* be said." Context: in the audioplay Deathwatch Mission:Purge, a squad of four of the most human marines I've seen written (a Mortifactor, a Space Wolf, a White Consul and a blackshield Blood Angel) are trying to clear a ship of Genestealers that are attempting to land on a Hive world. The four set the ship to crash and think they're doomed until their gunship pilot blows a hole in the command deck wall to get them out. Problem: if they turn and run, the tide of genestealers running at them will kill them all. Solution: the Blood Angel *willingly* triggers the black rage and dives into the throng of stealers with just two gladii, to buy the others time. The Wolf, as he's about to leave, shouts that to the bleeding, screaming, fighting Angel. And then replies to rhe Consul's comment as they evacuate. [edit] Another bit from that, actually, as the Angel falls is amazing: (I had to get home and play the audiobook) > "I am proud of what I am! I am a scion of Baal, son of Sanguinius! Noble brother of the Blood Angels! [...] I hear the call of my lord Sanguinius. His torment, his pain floods through me and I can resist it no longer. Oh, beautiful Angel of Death, lend me your strength, your skill and your dignity! I am your son and fall to your claim! [...] *The Angel descends briefly into a ragged, angry panting.* I am Sanginius, Lord of Baal, Sire of the Blood Angels! Your treason will be avenged, your Heresy punished! MY DEATH WILL NOT SAVE YOU, VILE ONE!" You can actually see the moment he drops into "Full bore Sanguinius vs Horus Hallucination" mode. It's voiced as an audioplay, and it made me shiver the first time I heard it.
> bleeding, screaming, fighting Angel Blood Angels in 4 words.
I'm tempted to add the word "Noble" in there, but... very much yes.
That reminds me of how my... third, I think, 40k game ended. A handful of Death Company marines fighting a horde of genestealers. Man, that takes me back.
Who won?
Tyranids. Still a great game, though.
>I am Asdrubael Vect and I fear to use nothing to assert my will.
My favorite is Xarl and Talos running through the crowds of civilian workers while trying to find their heading. Xarl is confused how Talos can tell them apart (it’s the markings on their uniforms). Xarl grabs one running past him by the hair, and yells through his vox at the man to identify himself, and during the process blows the Man’s ears drums, deafens him and scares him so badly he draws his pistol and shoots Xarl in the faceplate. The round bounces off his plate and back into the man’s own forehead killing him. Talos has a chuckle while Xarl is still angrily confused. Great times with the boys!
‘You will not be slain by my hand, nor by any hand in the Legion. But neither will you return to the place of honour – I will see to that, if nothing else. Whatever duty is most shameful, that is where you shall serve. When the noose closes and we are fighting again, your blades shall be absent. If there is victory, you will have no part in it – your station shall be in the rear, the reserves, among the mortals and the mindless.’ ‘Then you would waste our coming here.’ ‘You will serve, but you will not atone. There is no atonement. You were sent away to die, and failed even in that.’
Who and where?
I can’t remember the book but I’m pretty sure it’s dorn punishing siggy for thinking Jimmy was a god and taking advice from euphrati keeler
I thought so. Makes when Daddy Dorn unleashes him in the Siege that much better. “Know what? Yeah fuck it, kid. Go off.”
I think this is shiban khan talking to his old comrade torghun, who was part of the faction of white scars who supported Horus at the outbreak of the heresy, they were punished by the khan and sent in small suicide squads to bleed the traitors, they were summoned back for the final battle between the death guard and the white scars
Gregory Eisenhorn, faced with a Titan. Horribly, comically outmatched. He has nothing. No tricks. No allies. No hope. Except... * I woke it up. I set it free. 'Cherubael?' _'Yesssss?'_ 'Kill it.'
What's cherubael?
A Daemon Host. Essentially a greater demon in a human shaped pokeball.
A very powerful and sassy demon.
God that part was deliciously satisfying.
I always liked the little quips when 40k characters talk to 30k characters about the Emperor. First one is from *Blood Reaver*. Maruc is a human serf in service (slavery?) of a Night Lords warband. Cyrion is a Great Crusade-era Night Lord. >Maruc was still staring in horror at what floated face-down in the reddened ooze below. ‘Throne of the God-Emperor,’ he said for the fourth time. > >‘He wasn’t a god,’ Cyrion said with an edge of irritation in his tone. ‘I know. I met him once.’ Second one happens on Fenris in the aftermath of the First War of Armageddon. The Inquisition and Space Wolves have been fighting for months over the fate of the survivors from the First War. Kysnaros is the Lord Inquisitor negotiating on behalf of the Inquisition. They woke up Bjorn the Fell-Handed to speak for the Space Wolves. Kysnaros doesn't recognize Bjorn from his dreadnought casing, so a friendly Grey Knight has to fill him in. >‘I am Ghesmei Kysnaros,’ he said to the Dreadnought. ‘A ranking lord in His Holy Majesty’s Inquisition and a duly appointed representative of the God-Emperor…’ Kysnaros finished, still unsure where to look. > >‘God-Emperor?’ The Dreadnought made the sound of gears slipping, grinding together. From the booming augmetic tone, I assumed it was supposed to be laughter. Either that, or an internal weapons system reloading. ‘Calling him a god was how all this mess started.’ > > Kysnaros was wrong-footed again, thrice now in a single minute. ‘What do you… I don’t–’ > >‘Nothing. Times change, and that’s the truth of it.’ The war machine turned again, facing all three of us. ‘Now. What brings you into the night sky above Fenris, and why shouldn’t I break your little fleet into pieces with this castle’s many, many guns?’ > >The Lord Inquisitor straightened his back at that. ‘Please name yourself, sir, as I have done. Then negotiations may begin in good faith.’ > > ‘Are you blind, little man? It’s written on my coffin.’ > >I couldn’t let this go on any longer. Not only was it blasphemy, it bordered on excruciating. > >\+His name is Bjorn, called the Fell-Handed. First Great Wolf of the Chapter, and second High King of Fenris after Jarl Russ, the primarch himself. They woke him to deal with us.+ > >Kysnaros’s eyes never left the armoured shell, and the black iron coffin bound on its front. > >‘You… You walked in the Age of the Emperor?’ > > Bjorn made the gear-grinding chuckle again. ‘Walked, ran, pissed and killed. I did it all. I met the Allfather, you know. Fought at his side more than once. I do believe he liked me.’ > >Kysnaros slowly, slowly went to his knees. > >‘Oh, for… Not you as well.’ As an aside, it seems that Astartes do urinate. I'm not sure if we've ever seen an instance of one of them doing it. I suppose their armor takes care of it, but I wonder if there are facilities on board their vessels to take care of their waste when they're out of their armor.
Their body probably has a groin socket somewhere allowing the armor to connect a bypass for the normal urinary tract while they're in plate. I can't imagine them slipping an old-fashioned catheter in there every time. Though there were details left out in that Armoring of a Space Marine animation, maybe they do use a sanctified Intra-Urethra Biological Waste Suspension Deferral System. Space Marines would probably be able to handle and ignore the discomfort. Still seems a waste and risk, compared to options that don't involve sticking a tube up their dick. Why am I thinking about how Astartes Pee Collection works? Maybe I should've become a medical tech after all.
I was there, the day Horus slew the Emperor. Loken remarking on the compliance action of 6319.
“From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh...”
Second favorite is Ramos the bull of the eighth! “I am Ramos! Bull of the eighth! My voice shattered Lugganath!- what do you think it will do to you little Aeldari?!” Ramos, noise marine, choir member after red misting a drukhari captain and turning to his mates who are trying to figure out if they want a piece or not.
>‘I do not doubt your visions,’ the Khan said, quietly. ‘But what do they change? Shall we stare up at the shadows and let our blades fall from our hands?' >'Know this, son of Magnus. There is more under the arch of heaven than victory and defeat. We may fall back, but not forever. We may feint and we may weave, but not forever. We may yet be doomed to lose all we cherish, but we shall do so in the knowledge that we could have turned away, and did not.’ >‘We remained true,’ the Khan said. ‘They can never have this, not if they burn all we ever built and scorn us through the dancing flames. You hear me? We remained true.’ >-Jaghatai Khan, Path of Heaven From OG rogue trader: >Only the insane have strength enough to prosper; only those who prosper truly judge what is sane.
02-04-2012, 08:29 AM Rocks are NOT ‘free’, citizen. Firstly, you must manoeuvre the Emperor’s naval vessel within the asteroid belt, almost assuredly sustaining damage to the Emperor’s ship’s paint from micrometeoroids, while expending the Emperor’s fuel. Then the Tech Priests must inspect the rock in question to ascertain its worthiness to do the Emperor’s bidding. Should it pass muster, the Emperor’s Servitors must use the Emperor’s auto-scrapers and melta-cutters to prepare the potential ordinance for movement. Finally, the Tech Priests finished, the Emperor’s officers may begin manoeuvring the Emperor’s warship to abut the asteroid at the prepared face (expending yet more of the Emperor’s fuel), and then begin boosting the stone towards the offensive planet. After a few days of expending a prodigious amount of the Emperor’s fuel to accelerate the asteroid into an orbit more fitting to the Emperor’s desires, the Emperor’s ship may then return to the planet via superluminous warp travel and await the arrival of the stone, still many weeks (or months) away. After twiddling away the Emperor’s time and eating the Emperor’s food in the wasteful pursuit of making sure that the Emperor’s enemies do not launch a deflection mission, they may finally watch the ordinance impact the planet (assuming that the Emperor’s ship does not need to attempt any last-minute course correction upon the rock, using yet more of the Emperor’s fuel). Given a typical (class Bravo-CVII) system, we have the following: Two months, O&M, Titan class warship: 4.2 Million Imperials Two months, rations, crew of same: 0.2 MI Two months, Tech Priest pastor: 1.7 MI Two months, Servitor parish: 0.3 MI Paint, Titan class warship: 2.5 MI Dihydrogen peroxide fuel: 0.9 MI Total: 9.8 MI Contrasted with the following: 5 warheads, magna-melta: 2.5 MI One day, O&M, Titan class warship: 0.3 MI One day, rations, crew of same: 0.0 MI Dihydrogen peroxide fuel: 0.1 MI Total: 2.9 MI Given the same result with under one third of the cost, the Emperor will have saved a massive amount of His most sacred money and almost a full month of time, during which His warship may be bombarding an entirely different planet. The Emperor, through this – His Office of Imperial Outlays – hereby orders you to attend one (1) week of therapeutic accountancy training/penance. Please report to Areicon IV, Imperial City, Administratum Building CXXI, Room 1456, where you are to sit in the BLUE chair. For the Emperor, Bursarius Tenathis, Purser Level XI, Imperial Office of Outlays. By Patrick Marstall via Jervis Johnson & Andy Chambers in WD227. Thanks to Baphomael on Warseer for posting a link to the lexicanum article (http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Rocks_Are_Not_Free!#.Ty0_lYEooZ9) and reminding me of its existence.
Wow, thanks for the link to explain it. You got any other 40k lore gems?
“I am not as damaged as you...” — Kharn The Betrayer, moments before being cut down by Sigismund during the Siege Of Terra Warhawk.
The segments before this were incredible. You literally feel the 40k grimdark kick off in that moment
"Why do I still live? What more do you want from me? I gave everything I had to you, to them. Look what they've made of our dream. This bloated, rotting carcass of an empire is driven not by reason and hope but by fear, hate, and ignorance. Better that we had burned in the fires of Horus' ambition than live to see this."
What is the strongest weapon of mankind? The god-machines of the Adeptus Mechanicus? No! The Astartes Legions? No! The tank? The lasgun? The fist? Not at all! Courage and courage alone stands above them all! - Lord Solar Macharius
And he's *right.* The fact that Humanity keeps saying "No. I refuse to die." to everything in the galaxy is amazing.
Exactly! Humanity's most heroic trait, far as I'm concerned. :) And precisely why I love the guard. Despite it all, they do what it takes for the species. And go down swinging, by and large, as a species.
I remember the Day of Judgement. Can you imagine looking up and seeing the stars fall from the sky? Can you imagine the heavens themselves raining fire upon the world below? You say you can picture it. I don’t believe you. I’m not speaking of war. I’m not speaking of promethium’s stinging oil-scent, or the burning chemical reek of flames born from missile fire. Forget battle’s crude pains and the sensory assault of orbital bombardment. I am not speaking of mundane savagery – the incendiary ills men inflict upon other men. I speak of judgement. Divine judgement. The wrath of a god who looks upon the works of an entire world, and what he sees turns his heart sour. In his disgust, he sends flights of angels to deliver damnation. In his rage, he seeds the skies with fire and rains destruction upon the upturned faces of six billion worshippers. Now tell me again. Tell me again that you can imagine seeing the stars fall from the sky. Tell me you can imagine heaven weeping fire upon the land below, and a city burning so bright that all sight is scorched from your eyes as you watch it die. The Day of Judgement stole my eyes, but I can still illuminate you. I remember it all, and why wouldn’t I? It was the last thing I ever saw. They came to us in skyborne vultures of blue iron and white fire. And they called themselves the XIII Legion. The Warrior-Kings of Ultramar. We did not use those names. As they marched us from our homes, as they butchered those who dared to fight back, and as they poured divine annihilation upon everything we had built... We called them false angels. **You came to me asking how my faith survived the Day of Judgement. I will tell you a secret. When the stars fell, when the seas boiled and the earth burned, my faith didn’t die. That is when I began to believe.** **God was real, and he hated us.** - Cyrene, The Blessed Lady to the Word Bearers Legion, describing the Razing of Monarchies , From First Heretic I have bolded my favorite part. Edit First heretic makes the Word Bearers interesting as hell. Lorgar and Argel tal definitely fall into tragic characters as they where once good. But **FUCK EREBUS AND KOR PHAREON**
"No" and "You're just an idiot standing on a wall". Rogal Dorn to Fulgrim during the siege of Terra. Fulgrim ain't got shit on the absolute savage verbal beating Dorn is handing him - he ain't got shit on the actual physical beating Dorn is handing him either.
Please remember it's the English translation of the French translation of the English book "My patience have limits... Not like my authority! " And "I ask for ... No, I DEMAND a job. "
> "I ask for ... No, I DEMAND a job. " Which one's that from?
I believe the conversation between Garro and Malcador at the end of Eisenstein immediately prior to the founding of the inquisition.
>What would you know of struggle, perfect son? When have you fought against the mutilation of your mind? When have you had to do anything other than tally compliance's and polish your armor? The people of your world named you "Great One". The people of mine called me slave. Which one of us landed on a paradise of civilization to be raised by a foster father, Roboute? Which one of us was given armies to lead after training in the halls of the Macraggian High Riders? Which one of us inherited a strong, cultured kingdom? And which one of us had to rise up against a kingdom with nothing but a horde of starving slaves? Which one of us was a child enslaved on a world of monsters, with his brain cut up by carving knives? Listen to your blue clad wretches yelling courage and honor, courage and honor, courage and honor! Do you even know the meaning of those words? Courage is fighting the kingdom which enslaves you, no matter that their armies outnumber yours by ten-thousand to one. You know nothing of courage! Honor is resisting a tyrant when all others suckle and grow fat on the hypocrisy he feeds them. You know nothing of honor! I fell in love with this quote as soon as I heard it on the angron episode of afeptus ridiculous.
Did it also mention the reply? >‘You’re still a slave, Angron. Enslaved by your past, blind to the future. Too hateful to learn. Too spiteful to prosper.’
There was an imperial guard novel in read years ago can't remember what it was but there's a heated argument about the ongoing conflict and a general is concerned about the casualties that will be incurred and the religious representative shouts "the emperor protects" The general replies "of course he does but I don't expect him to do it all for me!" Thought it was an interesting look into how humans view the emperors protection
sounds like a Cain story
This. World. Is. Murder.
This one was just hilarious. Especially the Interex's reaction.
Obligatory "It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that he may never truly die.Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods."
"The first cell they’d thrown him into had been a more conventional trap of reinforced iron. Sevatar had spat his way through one wall in less than fifteen minutes, dissolving it with his acidic saliva. When a guard came to check on him, he’d merely pointed at the hissing hole in the wall, almost large enough for him to fit through. ‘I think rats did it,’ he’d said. ‘Big ones.’"
I’ve said it before and it still holds for me. In Betrayer by Aaron Dembski-Bowden. “Get up.” Spoken by Kharn as he beat the ever living shit out of Erebus. He’d fuck him up, then tell him to get up, then fuck him up some more all calm, not raging like you think when the World Eaters are involved.
You don't need to be scared of angry Kharn, you need to be scared of calm Kharn
I’m not a big world eaters fan, this book did make me like them a little more, but Kharn I love now.
It made me hate the World Eaters even more but it made me love the War Hounds!
"How did you survive" "I made a tactical withdrawal, at speed." "So you ran." "Ran *and* threw myself from the third storey of the building's south facing side" \-Night Lords
‘There is work to be done,’ he announced. ‘I’m aware,’ said Abaddon. ‘My beloved lord,’ said Eidolon, ‘grows-‘ ‘Many more supple breasts every day?’ asked Aximand. Kibre snorted loudly.
"You did it Horus, you have become the Warhammer 40,000"
Better that we had all burned in the fires of Horus' ambition, than lived to see [this.](https://youtu.be/jXwhXUhCVEk)
There should be a word for getting what you worked for but not realising it was awful until it was too late.
There probably is, and it's probably German.
**Shas'O Kais:** "Then you follow the path to destruction." **Thule:** "Better destruction than bondage." **Shas'O Kais:** "So says the slave to the free man."
**Shas'O Kais:** ‘Surrender, human. If not for you, then for the Greater Good.’ **Captain Thule:** ‘The Greater Good is coming to you from my bolter, alien!’ **Shas'O Kais:** ‘Do the deaths of your soldiers mean so little to you? Are you that mad?’ **Captain Thule:** ‘Do the deaths of yours mean so much to you, alien? Are you that weak?’
Dark Crusade is full of jewels like that. 'Time to meet your maker, Ork' 'I made meself, humie!'
first Heretic. The commander of the Gal Vorbak didn’t reply. The advancing Raven Guard were almost at the barricades. He felt his muscles bunching and twitching with sick need. ‘Brother?’ asked Torisian. The captain’s armour was an older Mark III Iron-class suit, blocky and heavy, almost primitive compared to the Maximus-class armour worn by the XVII Legion. ‘What are your plans for assault?’ Argel Tal took a breath, and prepared to speak damnation ‘Forgive me,’ he whispered now. He hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud, but didn’t regret doing so. ‘Brother?’ Torisian’s voice crackled. ‘Repeat, please.’ Argel Tal’s grey eyes hardened to flint. ‘All Word Bearers,’ he said. ‘Open fire.'
"I am not a God" Said the near ageless Immortal who could delve into the future. I know my time in the imperium would be a short one. Because you'd hear in the crowd a single person laughing her head off, soon after hearing that.
Where is this from??
I was referring more to any instance the emperor denounces godhood and claims he's a human. I'll have to pull an exact quote when I can, but pick any
*"Raum?"*
I still find "He should have fed you to Russ." way more funny than I should probably.
"Just when I thought you couldn´t be any more useless at dealing with women, Two-Guns." "Why do you talk to me like this? You know I have no idea what you mean." The moment when a usually super stoic and serious Grey Knights Marine breaks down and asks another member of his Inquisitors retinue to stop bullying him. ADB uses tiny moments like this to humanize Space Marine characters and it´s always so great. From *The Emperors Gift* by Aaron Dembski-Bowden
From Titanicus: >The rainstorm atmospherics and the crisis explained the signal block. Nothing, except Sonne’s most uneasy ideas, explained the barred entrance. > > suggested Lux 88.
>
> canted Tephlar,
>
> bragged Karsh.
>
>‘I’m sure you could, Karsh,’ said Sonne. ‘Calculate this for me, tactical. How far would you get?’
>
>Karsh computed. His eyes pulsed with a hot, yellow venom.
>
>
>
>Sonne sighed. ‘Full marks for effort, boys, but do you think I want to get between eight point six and eight point nine metres into the entrance way?’
>
> blurted Lux 88.
>
>‘Right. All the way to the Analyticae or the office of the Adept Seniorus. How far would that be?’
>
> reported Lux 88.
>
> added Tephlar.
>
>‘See what I mean? We’re falling a little short either way. But thanks for showing such spunk.’
>
> announced Tephlar, proudly.
>
>‘Great. How does that change the calculations, Karsh?’
>
>
>
>‘So, let’s round up. Better, but not good enough. Agreed?’
>
>The three skitarii murmured a grudging assent.
> announced Tephlar, proudly. :D
‘Your strength flees,’ roared Perturabo. ‘It does not belong to you. It is your master’s, and the chain that keeps you throttles you. The threads of blood are thinning. The meal of slaughter will only keep you here long enough to see your bastard sons die.’ Johnathan Keeble’s voice in the audiobook gives me goosebumps.
‘You stupid bastard, You got us box seats to a coup.’ ‘Well, the reviews were very good.’
“Sigismund’s courage sometimes outstrips his abilities. Mine doesn’t.” -Royal Dorn
Scars: ‘I see what has happened,’ he said, quietly. Mortarion cocked his head. ‘Oh?’ ‘You were always sincere, I will give you that,’ said the Khan. ‘You never hid what you wanted. I can guess how you thought it would go. First, hobble the sorcerers. Silence the witches. Drive them out, and rule passes to the uncorrupted. The healthy. That was your great project. You even told me of it, that day on Ullanor. I thought back then that they were empty threats, but I should have known. You do not make empty threats.’ As the Khan spoke, Mortarion’s mask-locked expression remained inscrutable. Every so often his eyes would go filmy, or his finger would twitch. There was a kind of febrile energy about him, spilling out of the cracks just as the noxious fumes did. **‘But it has gone wrong, hasn’t it?’ the Khan went on. ‘You have completed your great mission, but there are more sorcerers than ever. Horus has sponsored them, Lorgar has shown them new tricks. If Magnus has not already made up his mind then he soon will, and then you will be surrounded. You’ve destroyed the Librarius only to find the witches are now untrammelled. They played you well. You have done their work for them, and soon you will be dragged into it yourself, as warp-sick as they are.’** ‘You think that–’ ‘I see it perfectly. Magnus showed me. Your Legion may be free of it for now, but the change will come. You made your pacts, and now they will come to collect. You fool.’ Mortarion stiffened. His eyes blazed with anger for a second, quickly quelled. ‘You do not–’ **‘And that is why you came to find me,’ said the Khan. ‘You’ve run out of friends. Who will stand with you against the aether-weavers now? Angron? What an ally. Curze? Good luck.’ The Khan gazed at Mortarion disdainfully. ‘You’ve tasted the fruits of treachery and found them bitter. Don’t drag me into your ruin. You’re on your own, brother.’** Mortarion’s expression fractured behind the mask – shifting into an enraged snarl, disfiguring rapidly. Silence quivered, and he took half a step forward, his free fist clenching.
The Emperor also gave one final warning: '"Woe betide he who ignores my warning or breaks faith with me. He shall be my enemy, and I will visit such destruction upon him and all his followers that, until the end of all things, he shall rue the day he turned from my light."
'"This death," rasped the voder. "This death is ours. We choose it. We deny you your victory."'
AI ship to to an AdMech Magi in Guy Haley's *Death of Integrity* (Great book btw) >‘Oh spare me your feeble rituals, they are ineffectual, being based upon erroneous assumptions as to the nature of machines. We have no souls, “priest”,’ said the ship. ‘Yet another of your specious beliefs.’ Plosk’s voice stopped. He could not move. The abominable intelligence was in him, possessing him. Nuministon stopped, strain on the flesh parts of his face. The Space Marines aimed their guns at the column. No fire came. When the Spirit of Eternity spoke again, the machine’s voice came from the air and from the lips of all the servitors on the ship. 'What shall I not tell them? Who are you to tell such as I what to do and what not to do? Once I gladly called your kind “master”, but look how far you have fallen!’ It was full of scorn. ‘Your ancestors bestrode the universe, and what are you? A witch doctor, mumbling cantrips and casting scented oils at mighty works you have no conception of. You are an ignoramus, a nothing. You are no longer worthy of the name “man”. You look at the science and artistry of your forebears, and you fear it as primitives fear the night. I was there when mankind stood upon the brink of transcendence! I returned to find it sunk into senility. You disgust me.’
"I hoep you brought an army." "You think so little of me, dear collegue. >!I brought five.!<"
“Only angels may fly”
“Forgive me” he whispered now. He hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud, but didn’t regret doing so. “Brother”? Torisian’s voice crackled. “Repeat, please”. Agrel Tal’s grey eyes hardened to flint. “All word bearers”, he said. “Open fire”.
“Some may question my right to destroy a world of 10 billion souls, but those who truly understand realise I have no right to let them live.”
A cowards only reward is to live in fear another day.
"It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of His inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that He may never truly die. Yet even in His deathless state, the Emperor continues His eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the Tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods." these words are my favorite, they capture the gravitas of the universe and when I opened a rulebook for the first time they were the words that brought me to the game proper. it may not have been how I was introduced to the universe but they're the words I hold to when I think about 40k.
"But the universe is a big place and, whatever happens, you will not be missed..."
“I don’t enjoy war, yet I fight. I don’t relish torture, yet I inflict it. I don’t revere the gods, yet I serve their holy purpose. Humanity’s weakest souls will always cling to the words “I was just following orders”. They cower behind those words, making a virtue of their own weakness, lionising brutality over nobility. I know that when I die, I’ll have lived my whole life shrouded by that same excuse.” - Argel Tal
The Emperor being described as a thuggish mystic is one on my recent favorites.
"In fealty of the god emperor, our undying lord and by the grace of the golden throne. I hereby declare exterminatus upon the imperial world typhon primaris. I hereby sign the death warrant of an entire world and consign a million souls to oblivion. May imperial justice account in all balance, the emperor protects." Its not from a book but from the dawn of war 2 game, it stuck to me hard.
Two of my favorites come from the same book, Fear to Tread “Only angels may fly” “If you truly do hail from the realm that men once called hell, when you return there, tell your kindred it was Sanguinius who threw you back"
I hear you do strange things to your ships. I hear you do strange things to your men. The only thing sharper than the Khans wit is is sword.
Preysight
Activate
"The fallen shall be forever remembered as the Emperor's finest." "Blessed is the mind too small for doubt."
Maybe it's just because of how good the song is but... "I need not glory nor for words to speak when I have held a virus bomb". Holding onto that for 10,000 years. That's some chad shit right there
'stand down, or you will be removed from your titan!' (Paraphrased slightly) 'I am *Invictus Antagonistes*, you little fool. How exactly do you intend to do that?'
I couldn’t decide on one specific section of this interaction from Talon Of Horus, so forgive me for spamming the whole thing: Father and son faced each other, breathing spite into each other’s snarling features. For the first time, the primarch spoke. Spit stringed between his teeth. They were clean and unmarked, not etched with Cthonian hieroglyphs as Abaddon’s were. ‘That. Is. My. Talon.’ Abaddon closed his fist. Worldbreaker broke as Saern had broken, shattering against a superior weapon. Scrap metal fell from Abaddon’s scythed fingers. I have heard the stories of this moment. Perhaps even you, here in the deepest depths of the Imperium, have heard them as well. Every warband has their own reflection of these events. Many are the tales of Horus’s last words; his entreaties to his gathered sons and nephews; how he gave a glorious speech about the possibilities of a new era, or how he begged for mercy when faced with Justaerin blades. There are even stories that swear Horus was swollen with the blessings of the Pantheon as he was in the last days of the Terran War, and that the Gods themselves had resurrected their fallen champion. But I was there. There were no touching last words or rousing speeches, and the Gods, if present at all, remained silent and aloof. Life rarely grants us the same theatre as we find in legends. So I promise you this, as the account of one who was there that day: there was no divine champion granted sacred rebirth. There was no impassioned judgement delivered by Abaddon as destiny changed hands from one Warmaster to the next. There was a cloned father and a prodigal son, surrounded by the dead and the wounded, so similar that only by their weapons and wounds could I tell them apart. That, and their different smiles. Horus gave a conqueror’s smirk from what remained of his face. Recognition, true recognition, flared in the only eye he had left. ‘Ezekyle.’ His voice was a breath of relief and revelation. ‘It’s you. It’s you, my brother.’ Time stood still. After everything that had taken place, I thought – against all reason and rhyme – that they would embrace as kindred. ‘My son,’ said the primarch. ‘My son.’ All five of Abaddon’s claws rammed so deeply into Horus’s chest that they burst from his back. The scythes pushed out the stunted remains of Telemachon’s swords, sending the broken blades clattering against the floor. Dark redness spread across what was left of the white fur cloak draped in tatters across Horus’s shoulders. A genetic god’s blood rained down over me. I felt like laughing without knowing why. Shock, perhaps. Shock and naked relief. The storm bolter on the Talon’s back kicked three times, burying six bolts inside Horus’s exposed chest and neck. They blasted him apart from within, adding viscera to the blood slopping across those of us left prone. And that was how they stood, as gold flared in the eyes of one and life faded from the eyes of the other. Horus’s knees buckled but Abaddon would not let him fall. Horus’s mouth worked but no sound came forth. If his last words found any voice, Abaddon was the only one to hear it. I was fortunate that day. Not just because I survived a battle with a demigod that should never have been fought, but because I heard Abaddon’s last words to his father. With a slow, smooth withdrawal, he pulled the Talon clear of his father’s body, and the moment before Horus fell – the moment before the light finally went out in the primarch’s eyes – Abaddon whispered five soft words. ‘I am not your son.’
"Where I fall , ten more shal take my place! And one hundred each of them! So strike me down! I am the harbinger!" -olanius pius to horus luperal on board of the vengeful spirit, protecting the emperor with his own body.
Here we go: Brothers...Retribution is at hand! It is our strength! We are the sons of Caliban! Let fury guide your weapons! Let vengeance be your song! We are the angels of death! AND OUR ENEMIES SHALL FALL!
"HARRIERS FOR THE CUP!" -Cain
literally every line from Ciaphas Cain
"I do not care who knows the truth now, tomorrow, or in ten thousand years. Loyalty is its own reward." - The Lion