The Search For Festus - The Fate of a Nurgle Lord

The Warpsmith punched in the access code leading to the armoury and beckoned Tosis to follow.
"The artefact is more than just a badge of, office my lord" he croaked.
"I have told you before Seradis, don't call me that.....not yet."
Seradis was about to incline his head then thought better of it.
"Indeed, the true value lies with the manner of its... requisition!" Continued the Warpsmith.
"I am aware of its original owner's misfortune, I was there at the Champions of Chaos trial after all.
We only narrowly avoided Sladic's fate ourselves, Festus' bumbling attempts at glory left us all exposed. It is only through sheer luck that it is the Lord of the Red Tide who resides in the god's Gilded Cage and not Lord Festus!"
"He is ill suited to lead us lor...Tosis, why do you insist on bending your knee to him?"
"While he lives he is our lord and all efforts must be made to save him, I would expect no less, the grandfather see's all Seradis.....he will not find me lacking faith."

They reached the armoury chamber and struck the rune of entry.
Putrid, shrunken heads adorned the walls, casting a sickly green light from orb less eye sockets. At the far end of the reliquary hung a baroque flamer of exquisite workmanship. The sharp jagged filigree of the casing and the daemonic muzzle (that of a rabid wild dog) were the work of a master artificer.

"The World Eaters would expend much blood to reclaim the burning brand were they to learn of its location," said the Warpsmith, "Lord Sladic's penitence within the Gilded Cage is almost at an end...."
"One problem at a time Seradis interrupted Tosis.
"Prime Lord Festus' trophy...I shall take it to him!

The Search for Festus - Into The Sorcerers Lair

"How much longer, Mo'reau?" Asked Chiron.
The Fleshsmith, lost in his grisly work, had almost forgotten that Chiron was standing there watching his every move.
"Soon...." replied the Fleshsmith without looking up from his administrations, "....providing there are no further interruptions."
Dulcet laughter resonated from behind Chiron's faceplate, causing the Fleshsmith to look up from his gruesome task.
"Ah, forgive me, my young acolyte. I sometimes forget how enthralling the art of flesh crafting can be. Alas, my days of sculpting flesh are behind me Mo'reau, and these poor old limbs are incapable of such dexterity." Continued Chiron as he picked up an inert servitor in his mighty fist.
"Fortunately, these poor old limbs still have their uses, eh Mo'reau?" emphasising the point by crushing the hapless servitor.
"My apologies, Lord Chiron," stammered the Fleshsmith. "I forget myself when I'm immersed in my work....I meant no disrespect."
Mo'reau looked on in horror as Chiron's Multi-melta powered up. The Dreadnought's knowledge of flesh crafting was unsurpassed, but his behaviour since he had been interred was becoming more and more erratic and often proved fatal to those who displeased him.
"Continue with your work Fleshsmith. The Death Guard have come for your patient....I shall see to it personally that you receive no further interruptions!"

The Search for Festus - Buying Time

The assault on Bastion 12 had taken longer than Tosis had expected. What had meant to be a lightning strike had turned into a protracted fire fight and close quarter grind.
The screech of tortured metal and the thrumming sound of promethium engines heralded the imminent arrival of the Castigators' inevitable reinforcements. Clouds of pulverised rockcrete dust swirled around in the distance, creating eddies in the smog thick atmosphere betraying considerable troop movements, making it all but impossible to discern exactly how many and what type of forces were arrayed against him. Though it was clear he was badly out numbered Tosis had a solid exit strategy. 
Locating Festus was, however, proving problematic in the vast underground labyrinth of the bunker and scouts had been deployed to ensure they wouldn't be walking into a dead end.
All they needed to do was hold out until one of the scouts returned with a definite location...or (as more and more of the Castigators loomed out of the smog) maybe just a rough location would suffice!
Tosis would need to be capricious in his defensive strategy if he was to be successful in buying more time for the search party.

The Fleshsmith will you see you now.

"Oh, hush now, We've barely begun."
"Sometimes, we think that our work is not appreciated."
"Do you know just how much work we've done restoring your dulled nerve endings?"
"We don't do this for our benefit you know?"
"Well....perhaps we do enjoy our work, but one must be happy in their work, mustn't one?"
"Be still now, we wouldn't want to make a mistake at this stage."
"The first injection is the worst, but once you've recovered you'll be surprised just how much you crave more."
"You'll feel so much better when we've finished."
"Now this may sting a little!"

Festus imprisoned

When he regained conciousness Festus  found himself completely immobile and everything was in darkness, even his enhanced senses couldn't pick up the slightest noise. All he was aware of and all he had to focus on was the intense burning as though he were being roasted alive.....

Nestor circled round his adversary drawing immense satisfaction from the futile wriggling of the Deathguard worm dangling at the end of his line. A pleasure only slightly diminished by the repugnant stench of slowly searing rotten meat.

Storms of Judgement - The Search for Festus

"But why, brother, why? Asked Rask.
"The Council of Seven have voted unanimously for you to lead us. Festus is as good as dead, now is the time for you to claim your rightful place and lead us to victory against those depraved Castigators" continued the Plague Champion.
"It is precisely because of that that my decision stands brother" replied Tosis calmly.
Rask looked at each of the Plague Champions within the lodge, but each seemed equally as mystified as Rask was.
"The Council have voted unanimously, that is true brother," continued Tosis, "but a full third of our fleet still have their doubts. If we are to defeat the Castigators, we must be able to rely on the full support of our Chapter to crush these degenerates."
Before Rask could protest further, Tosis placed a placating gauntlet upon Rask's shoulder.
"As you say brother, Festus is as good as dead, but alas, he is not dead yet. To unite the Chapter, we must mount a rescue bid to save out fallen Lord. Only then can we cast aside all doubt and bring the Castigators to their knees!"

The Storms of Judgement - Clash of Titans

The war on Morbus was not going well for Festus. The Death Guard had been thwarted by the Castigators at every turn. If it had not been for the Nurglings gifted to him by the Plague God, the Death Guard would have been over-run and forced to abandon yet another planet to the decadent Slaanesh worshipers.
To complicate matters further, Festus was well aware of the whispers surrounding his lieutenant, Tosis Mire, and the growing support that his exploits had garnered.
The arrival of the Castigators' 2nd cohort on Morbus offered Festus with the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. It gave Festus the perfect reason to restrict his lieutenant to fleet duties, but more importantly, it presented the ideal opportunity to strike at the heart of the Castigators by robbing them of their chief Sorceror, Lucian Soulweaver. Festus was well aware how much of a stabilising factor the Sorceror was. If he could remove him, then it would only be a matter of time before the more extreme elements within the Castigators tore the Chapter apart.

The reverberating ground shook the Plague Lord from his reverie as the Chaos Knight moved into position.
"Excellent!" Thought Festus, "let us see if this warp trafficker is capable of resisting the fury of a Plague Knight!"

Storms of Judgement Campaign - The Sacking of Mammon

Port Avarice was empty when Festus and his Death Guard dropped onto the central landing pad, his forces had fanned out to clear the facility encountering no opposition. 
Usually a planet's main port would be a bustling hive of activity, but Port Avarice was deserted. The occupants had obviously left in haste, evident by the dropped trinkets and garments littering the eerily quiet streets.

Still smarting from the loss of the space station, Voidspan, Festus had immediately determined a course of action. The Space Port on Mammon would would make an ideal base of operations for the Death Guard. With this undamaged Space Port he could coordinate sweeps and searches of the entire system, it wouldn't take long to locate Nestor and his decadent Castigators from here. 
With this in mind he set his menials to task fortifying the base and re-activating the deep space scanners. Moments after restoring power, Proximity alarms began flashing, accompanied by the wail of a droning klaxon.
"Report." Ordered Festus.
"Scanners report no unidentified ships in the vicinity" replied the Warpsmith Darkmite.
"Well something must be setting off these damned alarms! Find out...." Raged Festus.
"I think I can answer that" interrupted Tosis Mire.
Festus turned to look at his second-in-command, but the Nurgle champion was gazing through the window into the gloom.
"And how would you know what's approaching?" Growled Festus.
"Because they are already here, sire." Sneered Tosis pointing into the gloom.

Storms of Judgement - Clash at Morbus

The Nurgling's squeal of anguish was brutally cut short as Nestor crushed the noisome creature beneath his heel. "Odious, filthy vermin" he thought as he put a bolter round through another of the tedious pests. "I shall cleanse this world of these vile parasites once Morbus is free from the Death Guard." He vowed.
For several Months the Pandora Cluster had been ravaged by Warp Storms. Travel between worlds had been impossible and Nestor had found himself stranded on the pleasure world of Mammon. Not a terrible place to be stranded, but the Slaanesh Lord had soon grown restless. He yearned for the thrill of combat once again and even Nestor realised that his blood lust could be a dangerous master if left unchecked. When the Storms had eventually cleared the Castigators made for the nearest warzone to slake his thirst with the blood of his enemies.....Morbus.

Storms of Judgement - The Pandora Cluster Revealed

Janus had fought with Void Span's machine spirit for days, overcoming one obstacle only for the space station's malignant intelligence to throw up yet another.
Lucian had suggested purging it and allowing the never-born to infest it, but Janus dismissed the Sorceror's idea immediately. Truth was, Janus admired its tenacity, it was a worthy adversary and technology such as this should be harnessed....revered even. Finally the Warpsmith had mastered it, taming its spirit and establishing his dominance. 
Nestor was delighted when the scatter-field was disabled, revealing the Pandora Cluster in all its glory, ripe for the plucking. Janus used his.....Voidspan's sensors to delve deep into the system and unearth its secrets had been an exhilarating experience and the Warpsmith marvelled at just how sophisticated his.....Voidspan's alien sensors were. Exploring the.....station's other systems had been a fascinating experience that had opened him up to stimuli that he could never have dreamed of. With the scatter-field down, it had become evident that his.....Voidspan's position could no longer be triangulated, making it ideal as a permanent base for the Castigators. Janus was pleased when his lord gave permission for him to stay behind and refit Voidspan to suit the Chapter's needs.

“So nothing can be done?” Asked Nestor.
“Janus has become fully integrated with the station’s machine spirit.” Lucian replied.
“His body is merely an empty husk, but at least we have full control of the station.”  

Storms of Judgement - The Fall of Voidspan

The bridge of the Shaft of Dominance was a hive of activity as the ship manoeuvred alongside the enormous space station. Squeals of binary code echoed around the chamber adding to the endless reports and orders being issued, creating a cacophony of noise that bordered on chaos. Captain Vane sat silently in his command throne, his attention focussed on the view screen before him. Lights flickered across the screen like fireflies on a balmy summer breeze, dancing to a tune that only he could hear. Two of the lights came together, their embrace momentarily amplifying their brightness before winking out of existence. 

The ballet continued as more of the Assault Torpedoes attempted to close with the space station. The Wolves were suffering horrendous casualties; the Corpus Mundi adding her considerable firepower to the barrage from the other side of the space station, each ship mindful of the others presence, made sure to keep the space station between them.
“And there lay the flaw”, thought Vane to himself. A blind spot that neither the Shaft of Dominance nor the Corpus Mundi, could reach. A corridor that once entered would allow the Wolves’ Assault Boats free run at the space station. Vane continued to watch as the ballet reached its climax. “There!” He said aloud as four Assault Torpedoes punched through the barrage and entered the corridor. All eyes turned to the Captain as he rose from the command throne, his gigantic armoured form throwing shadows that coiled and crept at the edges of vision.
“Open a Comm-link to Nestor and inform Lord Lustheart to expect visitors.”

Storms of Judgement - The Scourge of Voidspan

“You’re sure this scourge cannot be stopped?”
“Not from here, my Lord” replied Janus. “However, I’ve located the source and believe that the parameters can be changed to a more favourable setting.” continued the Warpsmith.
“Parameters?” Inquired Nestor.
“The Scourge operates under predefined protocols when targeting intruders. The Death Guard have locked the internal sensors to emit a wide angled beam that attacks the targets molecular structure. If we reach the coordinates that I am currently uploading to all squads, we can reset the protocol to emit a narrow angled beam. This would allow a quick-witted enough target to avoid the Scourge.”
“How long before the Scourge activates?
“Less than four cycles, my Lord.” Replied Janus.
Nestor opened a comm-link “All units, converge on me. We move out immediately.”

Storms of Judgement - Voidspan fights back

The roaring, thundering presence of the machine-spirit echoed everywhere. Janus slipped through the next layer, and its anger hit him like a tidal wave. It was hot and vibrant, a shocking terrible mass of emotion to come from a machine spirit that had been so quiet for so long. When the Warpsmith had first entered Voidspan's Machine-Spirit he had known it only as a chained storm, its power and the potential energy of its great intellect and knowledge contained in the metal shell of the station. Now it was open and raw, all of its centuries of corruption powering its fury, and its pain. Waves of pure agony hammered off it. Janus forced his mind to conceptualise the machine-spirit as it loomed up from the darkness of the space station's higher systems. The storm clouds were angry red, and they rained blood. Currents of hot, toxic pain flowed around the storm, lashing Janus with black lightning of pain as the machine-spirit raged.

“Tell me!” cried Janus. “Tell me what I must do!”

The emotion that howled on the electronic gale was not human, but it could not be mistaken. Pain, anger and malice mixed into one, battering against the Warpsmith’s mind.

The Station wanted him to die.

Janus wrenched his mind out of the space station's information systems. He snapped back into his body and turned to face Nestor.

“We must hurry my Lord. Defence protocols have re-established themselves, if we don’t reach the inner level to stop it, the outer ring will detach itself and we will be cast adrift.”

As if to emphasise the Warpsmiths point, rivets, the size of a man’s fist tore a section of panel away as the station shook violently.

“Move out!” ordered Nestor.

Storms of Judgement - Assault on Voidspan, Forcing the Breach

Nestor’s steed writhed with pleasure as the metal floor plates vibrated beneath her. Her squeals of delight added to the sound of groaning metal to create a cacophony of sound that the decadent Noise Marines revelled in.
Shock waves assailed all those in the vicinity as the Castigators’ assault torpedoes slammed into the outer bulkheads of Void Span. Klaxons immediately began bleating their monotone song accompanied by amber flashing hazard beacons as Frag launchers scoured the entry points with lethal shrapnel. The blaring noise faded to silence as the stations interior climate evaporated in a plume of gas into the still, blackness of space.

Unperturbed by the commotion, Nestor’s forces stalked silently like spectres into Void Span’s mortuary corridors, mag-locks on their armour shod feet keeping them grounded in the zero gravity. Blips on Nestor’s auspex marked numerous, as yet un-quantified targets in glowing red. Nestor knew the Death Guard would be closing quickly to seal the breach and repel the invaders for the third time.
“Nephran, take Squad Sublime along with Phobos and secure the east flank. N’kari and his children will take the centre.” Ordered Nestor. 
“As it pleases you” replied N’kari.
“Darius, you’re with me.” Continued Nestor as he smashed through the ventilation grill and entered the ducting system.

Storms of Judgement - Assault on Voidspan

Nestor silently cursed his impetuousness.

In his haste to hunt down the Corpus Mundi, the Castigators’ Terminators had been left behind at Toil’s End. Only Shaithis, captain of the first Cohort, had one of the precious suits available. Because of this, Nestor had given him responsibility to secure a beachhead on the station.
Shaithis had addressed the War Council with his usual arrogance. His attempts at swaying the War Council to his proposals had all the finesse of a World Eater at a tea party. Whilst amusing at first, Nestor was growing tired of his rhetoric and was beginning to regret his decision to give him overall command of the assault.
Shaithis’ ramblings were interrupted by the arrival of Lucian and Janus. Nestor held a hand up and Shaithis fell silent.
“What news do you bring us Janus?”
“The space station is still invisible to our sensors my Lord. The structure defies all known configurations.” replied the Warpsmith.
“So we’ll be going in blind then. Have you awakened Deimos and Phobos from their slumber?
“I have my Lord; they are already secured on the first wave of Boarding Torpedos.”
Nestor turned to face the Chief Sorceror as he took up his customary position alongside him. “What of our allies Lucian?”
“All is ready my Lord. The ritual is complete and N’kari and his children will join the assault in the second wave.”
“Excellent!” interrupted Shaithis. “Consider the beachhead secure my Lord.” 
Shaithis turned to leave the chamber.
“Shaithis!” growled Nestor. 
Shaithis turned to face him.
“You have my permission to leave Captain…..and if you do not secure the Beachhead, then see to it that you do not return.”

Storms of Judgement - The discovery of Voidspan

"They're preparing to enter real-space" said Lucian. "Stand by for the co-ordinates."

Nestor roused himself from his his ennui at the Chief Sorcerors words. For three days the Veritas Invicta had tracked the Death Guard ship, the Corpus Mundi, through the Warp. A feat that had not been without its costs, evident by the shrivelled dessicated husks of the Sorceror's Acolytes that littered the chamber.

"On my mark prepare to enter real-space."

The skirmishes for the Underhive of Toil's End had not gone well for Nestor. The Death Guard had secured three transponders while the Castigators had managed to retrieve only one. The Death Guard had triangulated the position of the jamming transmitter and had boarded their flag-ship entering the Warp to seek it out. Nestor had immediately boarded the Veritas Invicta to pursue them, but they were still 12 hours behind them.

"Mark." commanded the Sorceror.

The ship groaned and shuddered as the stresses of traversing the barrier between real-space and the Immatarium threatened to tear the ship apart. Just as it seemed that the Veritas Invicta would break apart the vibrations ceased and calm was restored.

"Report." demanded Nestor.
"The Corpus Mundi is 12 Hours away holding position. Probe already launched, we will receive visual confirmation in 5....4....3....2....1.....visuals coming on line now my Lord."

Nestor looked at the view screen. The Corpus Mundi was dwarfed by the space station that it was docked alongside. Nestor cast an inquiring glance at the crewman.

"The station is not showing up on sensors, my Lord."
"Prepare Boarding Torpedos and assemble my War Council.....I want that Space Station."

Storms of Judgement - Assault on Precinct XIII

“I shall cut many threads this day” boasted Sven as he fastened himself into his harness.
“None shall escape our murder-make” agreed Hjad with a raucous shout.
The rest of the pack merely smiled at their youthful exuberance. It was their first mission as a Grey Slayer and although Heinrik had no doubt that they had earned the right to join the pack, their eagerness must be tempered, they still showed the wild abandon and occasional recklessness that typified a Blood Claw.
The deck vibrated. There was a dull, dead sound like a giant gong striking arrhythmically in a distant palace of echoing marble. As one they donned their helmets and prepared themselves for the trials ahead.

“For Russ and the 13th” Said Heinrik as the Drop Pod hurtled towards the Hive city.

Storms of Judgement - The Storm Rages

Singed flesh, ozone and sacred unguents assaulted Nestor’s nostrils. He breathed deeply savouring the sickly sweet aroma as he waited impatiently for the Warpsmith to uncover the secrets within the communication relay.
“Shackle the soul and forge the flesh. Bind the machine and butcher the rest.” chanted the Warpsmith as his Mechatendrils caressed the relay, their data spikes penetrating the relay’s data-ports, eager to become one with the machine. Nestor watched with mild curiosity as the Warpsmith fell silent, his body swaying to an unheard rhythm.

The battle for Toil’s End had been a stimulating experience. Seventy per cent of Lathe’s Hive city was firmly under his control, but it had not been without its costs. Darius had lost most of his squad to the accursed Death Guard and was even now having a new augmetic limb fitted by the Fleshsmiths. N’kari had been banished back to the warp and it would take many sacrifices to open the way and allow the Keeper of Secrets to rejoin them.
With the main communication relay in his hands it was only a matter of time before he pin-pointed the source of the transmissions that hampered off world communications. Because of the interference no ship could venture further into the Pandora Cluster lest they be ambushed by another ship or lost in the receding warp storms. Where ever this transmitter was located he would find it and control it, revealing the system to the Dark Prince’s desires….

Storms of Judgement- Encounter at Fahrenheit 451

Tosis Mire's disdain of his orders to pick through the rubble of this shanty town was clearly evident. He wasn't even sure if what he searched for was of any use. This little foray was probably just a ploy to keep him busy while Festus concocted another of his delicious serums. He would however, have to bide his time, if only he could see combat today. He needed to hone his skills,  Festus could not be blind-sided easily and he would need all the practice he could if his coup was to be successful. Just as his frustration was about to be exacted upon an unfortunate member of the Eidos Loimos cult,  movement was detected on the other side of the compound and although this was supposed to be a recon mission, his impatience got the better of him.

The Storms of Judgement Campaign-The Coming Storm.

I've always been a fan of campaigns, it's probably the Role Player in me, I just love the idea of my Castigators, Saim-Hann wild riders or Witch Hunters Sisters of Battle carving out an empire and developing their very own identity.