DATESTAMP: 4182999.M41
+ %#=+ CORROSION IMMIMENT ##/////____________

Lord Galleus,

I have uncovered the vital information you have requested of the Holy Ordos Inquisition.

As you well know, this slow, grinding campaign is testing the men under your campaign and the minds of all those who come into contact with this tainted region. Calixis, of course, was not always such a dismal, emperor forsaken place. Once it was the shinning beacon of pride for Segmentum Obscurus. Decades ago, this all changed.

After rifling through hundreds of data logs on Scintilla and extracting data from prisoners, I’ve found what seems to be a series of events leading to the Great Loss. It would seem that a group of heretics, renegades, and pirates made their escape from the prisons on Drogan Prime many years ago. Wherever these damnable souls traveled, destruction and chaos followed in their wake. They were called the Heralds of Change by the people of Fydae Minos before they devolved into gibbering hordes and daemonkin. Others referred to the group as the Chaste Crusaders, The Bloodied Leg Troupe, or the Murderscape 9.

These creatures were all men once, two were seemingly lost, but now four of their number haunt the sector as the infamous daemon lords you know as N’meth Daemon Eater, Torrkann the Machine Lord, Varrulle Silver Tongue, and The Mind Thief – their birth names lost to the winds of time.

Of the surviving members, one is described as a renegade marine whom we have little data on. He has been denied daemonhood for now it seems, and the Dark Angels Chapter has (against intensive advisement) aggressively pursued his personal fleet into the screaming vortex with nigh suicidal deliberation. We have heard nothing from that chapter’s attack fleet in many years, and so they are presumed captured or destroyed – the strike cruiser Amadeus and its escorts torn asunder in the endless hell of the warpstorm. In his wake, a cult of worship has spread from world to world, damning hundreds of millions to extermination.

The other is known as the Fiend of the Kasserkratch. This creature has supposedly fused with the daemon ship; inflicting massive destruction among the Calixis naval battle groups and raining hellish fires upon those populations pure enough in heart to resist the taint of chaos. What’s worse, this vessel seems to grow with size after each victory, adding gun decks and launch bays alike. This machine beast has been slowly making its way towards the Segmentum Solar; it must be stopped at all costs.

As for the other four who have descended into damnation, you well know their fates…

N’meth bends reality at a whim with its sorcery, grinding the minds of all opposition into cinders before assaulting with his infamous dark praetorians. Ever-changing, his massive form breaks the psyche upon sight, and his personal war fleet has cut through the Drusus Marches subsector for nearly a half century now; unchecked by and unphased by all Imperial interventions. It’s said that the fleet is powered by bound daemons, and that every cannon unleashes not shells but the fires of hell.

Torrkann the Machine Lord now reigns over the pirate planet of Iniquity; now a world of twisted daemon-machines that defy description. Half-men toil endlessly under boiling skies, churning out great ores and warmachines alike for the Black Crusade efforts. When the Daemon Prince marches to war it’s said that the ground trembles under his metal form, and machine spirits cry out in horror with his approach. It’s whispered that he is man-daemon-machine infused, and even his wounds leak with mercury, not blood.

Varrulle Silver Tongue is whispered to have once been a member of the ecclesiarchy – and if so he truly is the most horrendous of the quartet. This would explain his unnatural ability to sway any to his infernal will; enrapturing whole worlds with a few calculated words. He is said to be a lithe beast of enrapturing charm, blessed by two gods with both allure and savage power. A host of daemon machines march under his banner – abominations of metal and flesh that rend flesh from bone and devour the soul. Any worlds that dare resist his sway are mercilessly scoured of all life.

The Mind Thief is much more enigmatic than the rest. It seems that any unfortunates to come in contact with this beast either have no memory of it or have gained new memories because of it. He is either a many spined beast, floating over his foes and grasping with huge decapitating claws, or a simple man, clothed in fine robes and concealing great powers. Because of the threat he poses, the Officio Assassinorum has been dispatched to dispose of this enemy. Unfortunately, several have returned with a mind reprogrammed – killing their masters in heretically brutal fashions.

It has been nine and forty solar years since your forces first began their great crusade to reclaim the Calixis. Now that I’ve delivered on your request I have a request of you. Your failure to return this realm to the light of the Emperor is indicative of incompetence at best and heresy at worst. Please make arrangement for my visitation within the next seventy two solar hours.

From the Lighting and the Tempest, Emperor Deliver Us,
-Inquisitor Balthur Vaarack




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