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Or, What The **** Corvus Corax is Suddenly Awesome?
Introductio
Hey everyone.
So, very recently, the Horus Heresy Sons of the Emperor Anthology was released, and with plenty of new Short Stories featuring the Primarchs. All set during the Horus Heresy, or even before.
Except for one, Shadow of the Past by Gav Thorpe, which differs greatly from the rest. Bizarrely, it is set during Current Warhammer (Or at least, somewhere in the 41st Millennium), and its contents are... Interesting.
Since it is very short story, so I'll just go by the feats there contained one by one.
The Story
The story is set on a world inside the Eye of Terror, which is under the control of the Word Bearers Legion. They are going about their business as usuals, capturing slaves and making them built giant monuments and cathedrals to the Chaos Gods, and them sacrificing their souls in ritual as retribution. Life is pretty sweet, until one of their Brothers goes missing, and is found dead, shredded in pieces to be precise:
The first element of the scene that drew Kalta-Ar was not the blood and body parts, or the broken pieces of armour scattered across the bare stone floor. It was the slaves. Seven of them, standing compliantly to one side, heads bowed but with their eyes fixed on the remains. Two questions immediately surfaced through the tumult of the Dark Apostle's thoughts.
'Why are they still alive, and why aren't they terrified?' he asked nobody in particular. Arkula attempted to answer but Kalta-Ar stopped him with a raised hand. 'I am not interested in your theories, coryphaus. Not yet. Let us observe a little more before we draw conclusions.'
The markings on the broken pieces of armour confirmed that the wearer had been Brother Kai-Alak. He had not only been dismembered and decapitated, but the rest of the remains had been utterly shredded.
'Gods...' muttered Isaikash.
'What have you found?' said Kalta-Ar.
'I was just thinking that we heard him screaming,' explained the legionary. 'He was alive for a while, feeling everything as this was done to him.'
'I think it cut off his arms and legs and then went to work on the rest of him,' added Arkula, with more relish than was entirely appropriate. He picked up half a helm, cloven neatly in twain. Brain matter and blood spilled onto the floor. 'It saved his head for last.'
The Word Bearers question the slaves for information. They are strangely quiet and relaxed despite their threats and presence, and say that they saw only a shadow rise from nowhere, slaying the Marine:
'Did you see what did this?'
The slave nodded dumbly.
'Tell me what you saw.'
'A shadow, lord of lords,' said the slave. It moved a wisp of greying hair out of its face and gazed up into the Dark Apostle's helm lenses. 'A shadow picked him up and cut him to pieces.'
When their interrogation proves fruitless, one of the Word Bearers backhands a slave in anger, but they don't respond by cowering in fear like they usually do. Instead, they just stare blankly to the skies above them. The Word Bearers turn, an indeed see the shadow from before, who dashes to attack, transforming into a swarm of black, razor-beaked birds:
'Enough of your lies, scum,' said Arkula. He slapped a hand back across the face of the nearest slave, slamming it into the rough wall. The skull cracked hard, leaving blood on the pale plaster.
Kalta-Ar had expected an outburst - cries of anger, of pain. Not one of the slaves even moved towards their injured companion. He saw that their attention was fixed not on the wounded slave, nor Arkula, nor the Dark Apostle. They looked at something behind and above him with a mixture of growing horror and disturbing smiles.
He turned quickly, pulling free his crozius. The other legionaries responded with him, bolters raised.
A thing like a shadow waited on top of the wall. It was impossible to make out its actual shape, though there seemed something vaguely humanoid about it. Before any command could leave the Dark Apostle's lips, it sprang upwards. Silhouetted against the ruddy sky, the shadow fragmented with an ear-splitting screech. :Dozens of winged shapes fell upon the Word Bearers, beaks like plasteel blades slashing at their armour. Hora went down under the first flurry, losing an arm as he toppled, his war-plate scattering like pieces of torn paper.
'Fall back,' barked Arkula, his commander's instincts taking over in the face of the unnatural apparition. His tone brooked no argument and even Kalta-Ar found himself responding, retreating swiftly through the door.
Bolters roaring, the Word Bearers closed together and followed.
According to the reports of the Word Bearers that fight it, the shadow can take the form of an oily pool of blackness which engulfs that which comes in contact with it:
'Who is firing?' demanded Arkula. 'Reports, for all that is holy. Remember you are legionaries.'
'There's something moving through the first vaults.' Ghoa-Lok spoke hastily, his words coming fast in a flow of combat stimulants rather than panic. 'I think it's beneath—'
'A black pool just swallowed Ghoa-Lok, coryphaus. We are falling back along the southern transitorum,' Sergeant Dario continued tersely between short gasps. : 'There's something ahead of us. It's seeping through the wall of the southern annex. Like oil. We are turning north again, via the presidia.'
'The slaves are att—' a desperate shout from Alekas alerted them to a fresh danger. Bolter fire rang out again and hoarse shouts replied.
The shadow-daemon can also take the form of an insubstantial mass of claws and beaks which tears through all it comes in contact with. Its fangs are made of lightning, too:
Elation lasted only a moment. A tenebrous mass billowed through the antechamber, twitching the limbs and dead eyes of the slaves with its passage. Mouths with dozens of lightning-fangs opened in the cloud as it fell upon Apall-Af. It seemed as though an invisible blade punctured the Word Bearer's gut and lifted him, erupting through his backpack in a shower of ceramite splinters, shattered bone and blood spray. Armour plates fractured as maws sank their insubstantial teeth into the legionary, snapping limbs and rending bloody welts into the flesh within.
His agonised bellows blanketed the vox for a second until Karla-Ar cut the link. Arkula threw himself at the daemon, chainsword snarling. A bladed limb snared out, taking off his head with an almost contemptuous swipe.
'With me!' cried Kalta-Ar. The Dark Apostle turned and ran again, barrelling along the narrow passageways that led along the northern wall. He heard the thunder of his subordinates' footsteps just behind, the wheeze of powered armour pushed to its limits. He reasoned that if the daemon had been summoned within the boundary of the rune-shield, perhaps it might not be able to pass without.
Fleeing in desperation, the surviving Word Bearers go through a portal that leads them to the world of Sicarus, the World ruled by the Daemon Prince Lorgar Aurelia, seeking his aid in stopping the daemon. In a fun bit of continuity, they are met by Marduk, one of the main characters of the Word Bearers Novel Trilogy. However, their plan seems foiled, as the shadow-daemon was able to go through the portal as well.
It arrives, moving as a pool of dark mist which swallows the Legionnaires that it touches, confirming the previous report. The Word Bearers shoot at the pool of darkness, but their bullets are just swallowed as well. Slowly, it begins to assume a more corporeal shape, and as it does it grabs hold of a Word Bearer, tearing and folding the Marine inside out with its talons. It finally reveals itself as a humanoid being, twice the height of the Marines, with sharp talons in place of hands and long black wings. Oh, it can also shoot lightning:
Kalta-Ar looked out across the expanse between the hill and the Beneficta Diabola. Here and there an armoured body sprawled on the ruddy ground. Dark mists formed close to the corpses, daemonstuff drawn by the escaping souls. Soon other things would come to feed.
'There, Apostle!' The shout came from the right, where Ukna-Tav pointed to the north-western comer of the site. A Word Bearer vaulted a low wall, a stream of naked humans flowing after. The legionary turned and fired his bolter, scything down the first handful of slaves to venture after him.
As he turned to continue for the mound, the ground beneath the Word Bearer darkened. Like tar bubbling from a pit, seeping blackness flowed up his legs, swiftly engulfing him to the waist. The legionary fired down into the morass but his bolts simply disappeared without exploding. The thick blackness continued upwards, rivulets of shadow that snaked along his arms and around his throat.
Growing, the umbra lifted the legionary from the ground, snapping an arm at the elbow, the bolter within his grip falling from the fingers. Kalta-Ar could not suppress an empathic wince as a leg contorted acutely, assuming an unnatural angle. The legionary's vox was clearly not functioning, and he was thankful they were spared more inhuman noises of painful death. Limb-snapping contortions wracked the armoured figure, almost tying the warrior into a knot, ceramite broken, bones shattered.
The daemon-shade dropped the remains to the floor and heaved itself together into the approximation of a human form, though twice as tall as the legionary it had just slain. Tenebrous wings flowed from its back as it advanced, arms ending in spear-like talons.
'What have you brought upon us?' Marduk's voice at his shoulder made Kalta-Ar turn, hearts racing. He dared only a glance at the first acolyte before returning his gaze to the spectre advancing with slow, grim purpose across the level plain.
'I had no choice,' said the Dark Apostle. 'It would have slain us all and come for you without warning.'
'Ah, so it was for our wellbeing, was it?'
'Look at it, brother! This is beyond us. We need the Urizen to face such a creature. You must call him.'
'Must?'
'This is not the time for your vanity, Marduk,' snapped Kalta-Ar. The threat of being ripped to pieces by an unstoppable daemon outweighed any trepidation at offending one of the First Chaplain's favoured servants. He pointed to the dormant portal arch. 'Can you reach Lorgar?'
'The primarch has... higher concerns than your survival, Kalta-Ar.' '
The bark of bolters drew their attention back to the ring of wardstones, where Kalta-Ar's warriors met the incoming apparition with a hail of fire. Bolt-rounds detonated across its form, but the fire of their fury disappeared into its darkness.
As it neared, the daemon fluctuated, its smoky exterior becoming like a blizzard, a creature of whiteness with two ebon-black eyes. Forks of black lightning leapt from an outstretched hand, rippling through the body of a Word Bearer. Greasy smoke issuing from rents in his war-plate, the legionary collapsed.
Suddenly, the Daemon Primarch Lorgar Aurelian appears, apparently seeing in this invading beast something worthy of his concern. Lorgar is a monster thrice the height of an ordinary Astartes, with skin of shining gold, adorned in clothing of flaming religious runes.
As he arrives, the shadow-daemon transforms yet again, growing in stature to match Lorgar and assuming a distinct, humanoid shape at last: The shape of Corvus Corax, Lost Primarch of the Raven Guard. He declares that he's become what he's always truly being: A thing of the Warp buried within a corporeal shell. And he's come to slay each of his Traitor Brother in vengeance. The two Daemon Primarchs clash in battle:
The voice came from behind them, as pure as molten gold in the Dark Apostle's soul. Its tones lifted his spirit in an instant, filling him with warmth.
He turned, as did the others around him. The archway glowed with power, showing a vista of a gigantic citadel-cathedral through the haze within its black frame. In front stood a gigantic figure, thrice the height of the legionaries, a golden-skinned entity wrapped in cloak and robe of flaming rune-shapes that swirled from its body. In one hand it held a wickedly spiked mace that throbbed with black power. The other bore a rod of intricately wound metal, tipped with a three-eyed skull layered with golden sigils that constantly weaved about each other. Eyes of uniform azure burrowed into Kalta-Ar.
'I heard your woe, my son.'
The voice washed through the Dark Apostle like a soothing balm, stilling his agitation, strengthening his resolve. Still, the presence of his primarch was near overwhelming and he fell to his knees, head bowed.
'My Lord Aurelian, forgive my weaknesses. A creature of daemonic spite has disrupted the great works here.'
'I see no daemon.'
Kalta-Ar glanced back towards his brothers. The entity that had pursued them had reached the top of the hill amid a storm of bolter fire. It cast aside legionaries with sweeps of glittering claws, leaving tattered remains draped across the stonework of the outer shrine.
'This is no daemon.' Lorgar raised his rod, beckoning to the blood-stained whirlwind tearing through the last of the Dark Apostle's warriors. 'Come to me. Brother.'
With a last flurry of activity that turned another legionary to shards of ceramite and ribbons of flesh, the apparition coalesced into a recognisable figure. It was of equal height to the daemon primarch, clad in black battleplate with long-taloned gauntlets. A pair of wings stretched from its ornate backpack, fashioned as intricate metallic raven feathers. The face was as pale as snow, gaunt, with eyes as dark as coal, framed by shoulder-length black hair.
Kalta-Ar felt his breath dying in his lungs as he looked up at the unmistakeable features of Corvus Corax, the primarch of the Raven Guard. A flurry of questions flooded his thoughts but all remained unanswered as Corax spoke.
'What has happened to you, brother?'
'I have ascended,' said Lorgar. He indicated Corax with a twitch of his rod. 'I might ask the same of you.'
The Ravenlord strode forwards, intent on Lorgar Aurelian. Kalta-Ar and his warriors scattered before him, grateful to be free of his wrath. Marduk and his coterie closed about their primarch but a look sent them away.
'I am what I always have been,' said Corax. 'I am vengeance incarnate. I am justice delivered. This place, beyond the veil, has revealed what we all are. Underneath the veneer of humanity our father crafted for us, we are of the warp.'
'Have you come to make oath to the powers that are your true creator?'
'No. I swore to destroy all Chaos taint from the galaxy. You will be the first fallen brother to die beneath my blades.'
'I am not the creature you fought at Isstvan,' said Lorgar, raising his mace.
'Nor am I!'
Kalta-Ar barely followed the lunge of Corax, so swift it was. A black wind threw him aside as dark fire crackled from the rod of Lorgar. With a thunderous shockwave that hurled the Word Bearers to the ground, the two demigods clashed.
The full battle is posted beneath. Corax and Lorgar are evenly matched, but Corax is clearly the more skilled and savage fighter. The two fly, hurling each other into buildings and exchanging blasts of raven-lightning and fire-runes, shredding each other's souls with their attacks. Ultimately, Corax wins, and Lorgar, battered and bleeding, pushes him away with a wind spell in desperation, and retreats with his Marines:
After a long life of bloodshed and devotion to the True Gods there was little that awed Kalta-Ar. The sight of the two primarchs battling within the empyrean sphere left him shocked and breathless.
Infused with the raw primordial force, the combatants were ablaze with power. Corax seemed a towering storm wreathed in white lightning, the cloud formed of multitudinous ravens. Their cawing was deafening, the flash of their talons and beaks the spark of the tempest.
Into the shadow Lorgar rose like a fireball, alight with a tornado of burning rune shapes. Meteoric sigils rained down on the raven tempest, cleaving ember-edged furrows through the dense mass. They slammed into the buildings around the bridge-arch, shattering masonry, incinerating the corpses of Corax's victims.
The Ravenlord struck back, hails of flaring claws ripping the air itself, leaving rents through the rune-robe of the Urizen. Each stroke left a shriek in its aftermath that shredded the nerves as much as the talons shredded Lorgar's immaterial form.
Kalta-Ar flinched when the sweeping head of the Word Bearer's mace slammed into the chest of his storm-wreathed foe. The impact was greater than any thunderclap, levelling the walls around them.
Rolling to his back, shattered stone pouring from his armour, the Dark Apostle watched the titanic combatants soar past, Corax with a quartet of gleaming spear-talons driven through Lorgar's throat. The Urizen tried to lash out with his mace but was held close by the Ravenlord's inhuman grip.
Together they crashed to the ground, their impact flattening again the few Word Bearers that had regained their feet.
'The portal-bridge!'
Marduk's shout drew Kalta-Ar's attention to the wavering energy field within the archway. Dark sparks rippled across its fluctuating surface. It was visibly weakening.
'We cannot be trapped here,' declared the Dark Apostle stepping towards the waning portal.
'It is sustained by the Urizen's will,' declared Marduk, intercepting him. 'It means our master is losing his power!'
The two primarchs had assumed fully humanoid form again in the heart of the crater their fall had made. Lorgar's left shoulder sagged, his rod swaying low in his grasp. Rune-shapes crawled across his form, no longer a robe of office but forming armoured plates etched with warp-symbols.
Corax flexed claws like sword blades, his expression pitiless as he took a step towards Lorgar.
Marduk opened fire.
The flare of his combi-bolter hit the Ravenlord in the chest and face, a welter of detonations that rocked his stride. Kalta-Ar fired his plasma pistol on instinct, the blast hitting Corax in the midriff, splashing cerulean energy across his ornate black war-plate.
Other fire joined it, missiles and more bolts from Marduk's guard.
Lorgar summoned a nimbus of power and threw out a shield of force that lifted Corax from his feet, buckling his wings in the unearthly hurricane. The Ravenlord became a flock once more of fire-eyed black birds, but the swell of Lorgar's will continued to hurl the other primarch's incarnations upwards, scattering them to the sky.
'Quickly, our lord,' shouted Marduk.
Lorgar lumbered towards them, his wounds streaming tiny crimson runes like blood.
Kalta-Ar looked up. The Ravenlord gathered again into a single mass, a dark comet headed directly for them.
The Urizen was first through the portal, his massive frame leaving a shadow of his passing as the other Word Bearers dashed through after. Kalta-Ar lunged the last few strides, throwing himself headlong into the miasma under the arch as chill shade swallowed him.
Before the Word Bearers vanish, Corax promises that he will find Lorgar again now that he has his "scent", and that once that is done he will destroy him and all his Legion:
He found himself in a large chamber, colourful mosaic underfoot, the walls covered with fresh murals, white vaulted ceiling and domes far above. Part of the Templum Inficio. He had no time for his surroundings, eyes drawn back to the gate.
Shrieking, the raven flock scratched and pecked, but they could not pass the warp barrier.
Lorgar glared at the apparition on the far side, chest heaving as though out of breath, his head crowned with a halo of black warp fronds.
Corax assumed his mortal shape again, one cheek bloodied and bruised, his eye almost closed. There was much damage to his armour, but he leaned close to the portal, eyes boring through the divide.
'I have your scent now, Lorgar,' growled the Ravenlord. His face contorted with monstrous rage. 'I will find you, Lorgar! I will destroy you and every vessel you have filled with your taint!'
Conclusion
Basically, not much. Just add a new key for Corvus Corax, with the new feats and abilities he demonstrated here. He would be scaled to the Daemon Primarchs, for beating Daemon Prince Lorgar in his own Daemon World. He's probably the strongest Primarch outside of Chaos Horus now if we're being honest.
Introductio
Hey everyone.
So, very recently, the Horus Heresy Sons of the Emperor Anthology was released, and with plenty of new Short Stories featuring the Primarchs. All set during the Horus Heresy, or even before.
Except for one, Shadow of the Past by Gav Thorpe, which differs greatly from the rest. Bizarrely, it is set during Current Warhammer (Or at least, somewhere in the 41st Millennium), and its contents are... Interesting.
Since it is very short story, so I'll just go by the feats there contained one by one.
The Story
The story is set on a world inside the Eye of Terror, which is under the control of the Word Bearers Legion. They are going about their business as usuals, capturing slaves and making them built giant monuments and cathedrals to the Chaos Gods, and them sacrificing their souls in ritual as retribution. Life is pretty sweet, until one of their Brothers goes missing, and is found dead, shredded in pieces to be precise:
The first element of the scene that drew Kalta-Ar was not the blood and body parts, or the broken pieces of armour scattered across the bare stone floor. It was the slaves. Seven of them, standing compliantly to one side, heads bowed but with their eyes fixed on the remains. Two questions immediately surfaced through the tumult of the Dark Apostle's thoughts.
'Why are they still alive, and why aren't they terrified?' he asked nobody in particular. Arkula attempted to answer but Kalta-Ar stopped him with a raised hand. 'I am not interested in your theories, coryphaus. Not yet. Let us observe a little more before we draw conclusions.'
The markings on the broken pieces of armour confirmed that the wearer had been Brother Kai-Alak. He had not only been dismembered and decapitated, but the rest of the remains had been utterly shredded.
'Gods...' muttered Isaikash.
'What have you found?' said Kalta-Ar.
'I was just thinking that we heard him screaming,' explained the legionary. 'He was alive for a while, feeling everything as this was done to him.'
'I think it cut off his arms and legs and then went to work on the rest of him,' added Arkula, with more relish than was entirely appropriate. He picked up half a helm, cloven neatly in twain. Brain matter and blood spilled onto the floor. 'It saved his head for last.'
The Word Bearers question the slaves for information. They are strangely quiet and relaxed despite their threats and presence, and say that they saw only a shadow rise from nowhere, slaying the Marine:
'Did you see what did this?'
The slave nodded dumbly.
'Tell me what you saw.'
'A shadow, lord of lords,' said the slave. It moved a wisp of greying hair out of its face and gazed up into the Dark Apostle's helm lenses. 'A shadow picked him up and cut him to pieces.'
When their interrogation proves fruitless, one of the Word Bearers backhands a slave in anger, but they don't respond by cowering in fear like they usually do. Instead, they just stare blankly to the skies above them. The Word Bearers turn, an indeed see the shadow from before, who dashes to attack, transforming into a swarm of black, razor-beaked birds:
'Enough of your lies, scum,' said Arkula. He slapped a hand back across the face of the nearest slave, slamming it into the rough wall. The skull cracked hard, leaving blood on the pale plaster.
Kalta-Ar had expected an outburst - cries of anger, of pain. Not one of the slaves even moved towards their injured companion. He saw that their attention was fixed not on the wounded slave, nor Arkula, nor the Dark Apostle. They looked at something behind and above him with a mixture of growing horror and disturbing smiles.
He turned quickly, pulling free his crozius. The other legionaries responded with him, bolters raised.
A thing like a shadow waited on top of the wall. It was impossible to make out its actual shape, though there seemed something vaguely humanoid about it. Before any command could leave the Dark Apostle's lips, it sprang upwards. Silhouetted against the ruddy sky, the shadow fragmented with an ear-splitting screech. :Dozens of winged shapes fell upon the Word Bearers, beaks like plasteel blades slashing at their armour. Hora went down under the first flurry, losing an arm as he toppled, his war-plate scattering like pieces of torn paper.
'Fall back,' barked Arkula, his commander's instincts taking over in the face of the unnatural apparition. His tone brooked no argument and even Kalta-Ar found himself responding, retreating swiftly through the door.
Bolters roaring, the Word Bearers closed together and followed.
According to the reports of the Word Bearers that fight it, the shadow can take the form of an oily pool of blackness which engulfs that which comes in contact with it:
'Who is firing?' demanded Arkula. 'Reports, for all that is holy. Remember you are legionaries.'
'There's something moving through the first vaults.' Ghoa-Lok spoke hastily, his words coming fast in a flow of combat stimulants rather than panic. 'I think it's beneath—'
'A black pool just swallowed Ghoa-Lok, coryphaus. We are falling back along the southern transitorum,' Sergeant Dario continued tersely between short gasps. : 'There's something ahead of us. It's seeping through the wall of the southern annex. Like oil. We are turning north again, via the presidia.'
'The slaves are att—' a desperate shout from Alekas alerted them to a fresh danger. Bolter fire rang out again and hoarse shouts replied.
The shadow-daemon can also take the form of an insubstantial mass of claws and beaks which tears through all it comes in contact with. Its fangs are made of lightning, too:
Elation lasted only a moment. A tenebrous mass billowed through the antechamber, twitching the limbs and dead eyes of the slaves with its passage. Mouths with dozens of lightning-fangs opened in the cloud as it fell upon Apall-Af. It seemed as though an invisible blade punctured the Word Bearer's gut and lifted him, erupting through his backpack in a shower of ceramite splinters, shattered bone and blood spray. Armour plates fractured as maws sank their insubstantial teeth into the legionary, snapping limbs and rending bloody welts into the flesh within.
His agonised bellows blanketed the vox for a second until Karla-Ar cut the link. Arkula threw himself at the daemon, chainsword snarling. A bladed limb snared out, taking off his head with an almost contemptuous swipe.
'With me!' cried Kalta-Ar. The Dark Apostle turned and ran again, barrelling along the narrow passageways that led along the northern wall. He heard the thunder of his subordinates' footsteps just behind, the wheeze of powered armour pushed to its limits. He reasoned that if the daemon had been summoned within the boundary of the rune-shield, perhaps it might not be able to pass without.
Fleeing in desperation, the surviving Word Bearers go through a portal that leads them to the world of Sicarus, the World ruled by the Daemon Prince Lorgar Aurelia, seeking his aid in stopping the daemon. In a fun bit of continuity, they are met by Marduk, one of the main characters of the Word Bearers Novel Trilogy. However, their plan seems foiled, as the shadow-daemon was able to go through the portal as well.
It arrives, moving as a pool of dark mist which swallows the Legionnaires that it touches, confirming the previous report. The Word Bearers shoot at the pool of darkness, but their bullets are just swallowed as well. Slowly, it begins to assume a more corporeal shape, and as it does it grabs hold of a Word Bearer, tearing and folding the Marine inside out with its talons. It finally reveals itself as a humanoid being, twice the height of the Marines, with sharp talons in place of hands and long black wings. Oh, it can also shoot lightning:
Kalta-Ar looked out across the expanse between the hill and the Beneficta Diabola. Here and there an armoured body sprawled on the ruddy ground. Dark mists formed close to the corpses, daemonstuff drawn by the escaping souls. Soon other things would come to feed.
'There, Apostle!' The shout came from the right, where Ukna-Tav pointed to the north-western comer of the site. A Word Bearer vaulted a low wall, a stream of naked humans flowing after. The legionary turned and fired his bolter, scything down the first handful of slaves to venture after him.
As he turned to continue for the mound, the ground beneath the Word Bearer darkened. Like tar bubbling from a pit, seeping blackness flowed up his legs, swiftly engulfing him to the waist. The legionary fired down into the morass but his bolts simply disappeared without exploding. The thick blackness continued upwards, rivulets of shadow that snaked along his arms and around his throat.
Growing, the umbra lifted the legionary from the ground, snapping an arm at the elbow, the bolter within his grip falling from the fingers. Kalta-Ar could not suppress an empathic wince as a leg contorted acutely, assuming an unnatural angle. The legionary's vox was clearly not functioning, and he was thankful they were spared more inhuman noises of painful death. Limb-snapping contortions wracked the armoured figure, almost tying the warrior into a knot, ceramite broken, bones shattered.
The daemon-shade dropped the remains to the floor and heaved itself together into the approximation of a human form, though twice as tall as the legionary it had just slain. Tenebrous wings flowed from its back as it advanced, arms ending in spear-like talons.
'What have you brought upon us?' Marduk's voice at his shoulder made Kalta-Ar turn, hearts racing. He dared only a glance at the first acolyte before returning his gaze to the spectre advancing with slow, grim purpose across the level plain.
'I had no choice,' said the Dark Apostle. 'It would have slain us all and come for you without warning.'
'Ah, so it was for our wellbeing, was it?'
'Look at it, brother! This is beyond us. We need the Urizen to face such a creature. You must call him.'
'Must?'
'This is not the time for your vanity, Marduk,' snapped Kalta-Ar. The threat of being ripped to pieces by an unstoppable daemon outweighed any trepidation at offending one of the First Chaplain's favoured servants. He pointed to the dormant portal arch. 'Can you reach Lorgar?'
'The primarch has... higher concerns than your survival, Kalta-Ar.' '
The bark of bolters drew their attention back to the ring of wardstones, where Kalta-Ar's warriors met the incoming apparition with a hail of fire. Bolt-rounds detonated across its form, but the fire of their fury disappeared into its darkness.
As it neared, the daemon fluctuated, its smoky exterior becoming like a blizzard, a creature of whiteness with two ebon-black eyes. Forks of black lightning leapt from an outstretched hand, rippling through the body of a Word Bearer. Greasy smoke issuing from rents in his war-plate, the legionary collapsed.
Suddenly, the Daemon Primarch Lorgar Aurelian appears, apparently seeing in this invading beast something worthy of his concern. Lorgar is a monster thrice the height of an ordinary Astartes, with skin of shining gold, adorned in clothing of flaming religious runes.
As he arrives, the shadow-daemon transforms yet again, growing in stature to match Lorgar and assuming a distinct, humanoid shape at last: The shape of Corvus Corax, Lost Primarch of the Raven Guard. He declares that he's become what he's always truly being: A thing of the Warp buried within a corporeal shell. And he's come to slay each of his Traitor Brother in vengeance. The two Daemon Primarchs clash in battle:
The voice came from behind them, as pure as molten gold in the Dark Apostle's soul. Its tones lifted his spirit in an instant, filling him with warmth.
He turned, as did the others around him. The archway glowed with power, showing a vista of a gigantic citadel-cathedral through the haze within its black frame. In front stood a gigantic figure, thrice the height of the legionaries, a golden-skinned entity wrapped in cloak and robe of flaming rune-shapes that swirled from its body. In one hand it held a wickedly spiked mace that throbbed with black power. The other bore a rod of intricately wound metal, tipped with a three-eyed skull layered with golden sigils that constantly weaved about each other. Eyes of uniform azure burrowed into Kalta-Ar.
'I heard your woe, my son.'
The voice washed through the Dark Apostle like a soothing balm, stilling his agitation, strengthening his resolve. Still, the presence of his primarch was near overwhelming and he fell to his knees, head bowed.
'My Lord Aurelian, forgive my weaknesses. A creature of daemonic spite has disrupted the great works here.'
'I see no daemon.'
Kalta-Ar glanced back towards his brothers. The entity that had pursued them had reached the top of the hill amid a storm of bolter fire. It cast aside legionaries with sweeps of glittering claws, leaving tattered remains draped across the stonework of the outer shrine.
'This is no daemon.' Lorgar raised his rod, beckoning to the blood-stained whirlwind tearing through the last of the Dark Apostle's warriors. 'Come to me. Brother.'
With a last flurry of activity that turned another legionary to shards of ceramite and ribbons of flesh, the apparition coalesced into a recognisable figure. It was of equal height to the daemon primarch, clad in black battleplate with long-taloned gauntlets. A pair of wings stretched from its ornate backpack, fashioned as intricate metallic raven feathers. The face was as pale as snow, gaunt, with eyes as dark as coal, framed by shoulder-length black hair.
Kalta-Ar felt his breath dying in his lungs as he looked up at the unmistakeable features of Corvus Corax, the primarch of the Raven Guard. A flurry of questions flooded his thoughts but all remained unanswered as Corax spoke.
'What has happened to you, brother?'
'I have ascended,' said Lorgar. He indicated Corax with a twitch of his rod. 'I might ask the same of you.'
The Ravenlord strode forwards, intent on Lorgar Aurelian. Kalta-Ar and his warriors scattered before him, grateful to be free of his wrath. Marduk and his coterie closed about their primarch but a look sent them away.
'I am what I always have been,' said Corax. 'I am vengeance incarnate. I am justice delivered. This place, beyond the veil, has revealed what we all are. Underneath the veneer of humanity our father crafted for us, we are of the warp.'
'Have you come to make oath to the powers that are your true creator?'
'No. I swore to destroy all Chaos taint from the galaxy. You will be the first fallen brother to die beneath my blades.'
'I am not the creature you fought at Isstvan,' said Lorgar, raising his mace.
'Nor am I!'
Kalta-Ar barely followed the lunge of Corax, so swift it was. A black wind threw him aside as dark fire crackled from the rod of Lorgar. With a thunderous shockwave that hurled the Word Bearers to the ground, the two demigods clashed.
The full battle is posted beneath. Corax and Lorgar are evenly matched, but Corax is clearly the more skilled and savage fighter. The two fly, hurling each other into buildings and exchanging blasts of raven-lightning and fire-runes, shredding each other's souls with their attacks. Ultimately, Corax wins, and Lorgar, battered and bleeding, pushes him away with a wind spell in desperation, and retreats with his Marines:
After a long life of bloodshed and devotion to the True Gods there was little that awed Kalta-Ar. The sight of the two primarchs battling within the empyrean sphere left him shocked and breathless.
Infused with the raw primordial force, the combatants were ablaze with power. Corax seemed a towering storm wreathed in white lightning, the cloud formed of multitudinous ravens. Their cawing was deafening, the flash of their talons and beaks the spark of the tempest.
Into the shadow Lorgar rose like a fireball, alight with a tornado of burning rune shapes. Meteoric sigils rained down on the raven tempest, cleaving ember-edged furrows through the dense mass. They slammed into the buildings around the bridge-arch, shattering masonry, incinerating the corpses of Corax's victims.
The Ravenlord struck back, hails of flaring claws ripping the air itself, leaving rents through the rune-robe of the Urizen. Each stroke left a shriek in its aftermath that shredded the nerves as much as the talons shredded Lorgar's immaterial form.
Kalta-Ar flinched when the sweeping head of the Word Bearer's mace slammed into the chest of his storm-wreathed foe. The impact was greater than any thunderclap, levelling the walls around them.
Rolling to his back, shattered stone pouring from his armour, the Dark Apostle watched the titanic combatants soar past, Corax with a quartet of gleaming spear-talons driven through Lorgar's throat. The Urizen tried to lash out with his mace but was held close by the Ravenlord's inhuman grip.
Together they crashed to the ground, their impact flattening again the few Word Bearers that had regained their feet.
'The portal-bridge!'
Marduk's shout drew Kalta-Ar's attention to the wavering energy field within the archway. Dark sparks rippled across its fluctuating surface. It was visibly weakening.
'We cannot be trapped here,' declared the Dark Apostle stepping towards the waning portal.
'It is sustained by the Urizen's will,' declared Marduk, intercepting him. 'It means our master is losing his power!'
The two primarchs had assumed fully humanoid form again in the heart of the crater their fall had made. Lorgar's left shoulder sagged, his rod swaying low in his grasp. Rune-shapes crawled across his form, no longer a robe of office but forming armoured plates etched with warp-symbols.
Corax flexed claws like sword blades, his expression pitiless as he took a step towards Lorgar.
Marduk opened fire.
The flare of his combi-bolter hit the Ravenlord in the chest and face, a welter of detonations that rocked his stride. Kalta-Ar fired his plasma pistol on instinct, the blast hitting Corax in the midriff, splashing cerulean energy across his ornate black war-plate.
Other fire joined it, missiles and more bolts from Marduk's guard.
Lorgar summoned a nimbus of power and threw out a shield of force that lifted Corax from his feet, buckling his wings in the unearthly hurricane. The Ravenlord became a flock once more of fire-eyed black birds, but the swell of Lorgar's will continued to hurl the other primarch's incarnations upwards, scattering them to the sky.
'Quickly, our lord,' shouted Marduk.
Lorgar lumbered towards them, his wounds streaming tiny crimson runes like blood.
Kalta-Ar looked up. The Ravenlord gathered again into a single mass, a dark comet headed directly for them.
The Urizen was first through the portal, his massive frame leaving a shadow of his passing as the other Word Bearers dashed through after. Kalta-Ar lunged the last few strides, throwing himself headlong into the miasma under the arch as chill shade swallowed him.
Before the Word Bearers vanish, Corax promises that he will find Lorgar again now that he has his "scent", and that once that is done he will destroy him and all his Legion:
He found himself in a large chamber, colourful mosaic underfoot, the walls covered with fresh murals, white vaulted ceiling and domes far above. Part of the Templum Inficio. He had no time for his surroundings, eyes drawn back to the gate.
Shrieking, the raven flock scratched and pecked, but they could not pass the warp barrier.
Lorgar glared at the apparition on the far side, chest heaving as though out of breath, his head crowned with a halo of black warp fronds.
Corax assumed his mortal shape again, one cheek bloodied and bruised, his eye almost closed. There was much damage to his armour, but he leaned close to the portal, eyes boring through the divide.
'I have your scent now, Lorgar,' growled the Ravenlord. His face contorted with monstrous rage. 'I will find you, Lorgar! I will destroy you and every vessel you have filled with your taint!'
Conclusion
Basically, not much. Just add a new key for Corvus Corax, with the new feats and abilities he demonstrated here. He would be scaled to the Daemon Primarchs, for beating Daemon Prince Lorgar in his own Daemon World. He's probably the strongest Primarch outside of Chaos Horus now if we're being honest.
