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@ask-kor-phaeron-30k
The fuck is wrong with you?
I can’t believe I’m saying this but: rescue baby Lorgar 2k19. Just pick him up and run.
Apparently people in this Emperor-forsaken community need a fucking reminder.
I was a strict teacher but a good one
How would things have changed had the Emperor not destroyed Monarchia?
Nothing. Monarchia was what sent us off to find the primordial truth, but the primordial truth was always there. Someone would find it, sooner or later, the Emperor's lies would not hold up forever
[This meme was brought to you by the Beat Kor Phaeron To A Pulp Gang.]
They seemed to like me better.......
What is your opinion on xenos?
They are the enemies of the chaos gods, and so they must die. Necrons have no souls, so the dark gods want nothing to do with them, Tyranids are much the same. The Elder insulted the dark prince by birthing and then abandoning him. The Orks I find amusing, through still thoroughly useless to the chaos gods. The T’au are not susceptible enough for corruption, so they too must be destroyed.
Open RP
Kor Phaeron stood on the deck of the Black Legion Warship. He was surrounded by his Honor Guard, Several Word Bearers clad in Terminator armor so decorated with chaotic emblems and so mutated it was hardly recognizable. Traitor guardsmen hovered around, each attempting to get as close to the master of the faith as possible. Phaeron enjoyed their adoration. He had come for a rendezvous, The crusade was nearing its final objective, and with the combined forces of the chaos fleets descending upon Vigilius, They met to discuss the ongoing war.
The daemonic and blighted apostle entered the deck, followed by a pair terminator champions. One heralding openly from the ranks of the Justerian while the other showed marks of Grave Wardens, despite their obsolete structures.
Plague bells and censers clinked against the apostle’s armour as the mutated mass writhed behind its binding. Unlike others within the room, there were no weapons on the Apostle’s person.
Striding his way to Kor’s side, Deos finally spoke through the corroded vox speakers in his armour. “Cardinal,” A slight bow of his head is given in respect but no sign of kneeling. Such formalities died with the legion’s cohesion. “You summoned my counsel.”
Phaeron started straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the planet’s surface. “So many centuries it has been since last you and I gazed upon the material realm, Deos.”
Phaeron spoke with a rasp. Despite being millennia old, he had a younger look than before the great crusade, daemonic pacts and dark favor had restored his youth to an almost unearthly state. His claws hummed with anticipation.
“Do you know what this crusade is Deos? Repentance, for all of our sins. When I held Guilliman in my hands on Calth, I never dealt the final blow, and now he stands as the greatest threat to our adored masters. The Warmaster, my son, the other legions. We have all failed, time and time again. The dark gods have been forgiving for so long. This crusade is our salvation, the chance to atone for everything. Soon every man woman and child in the Imperium will bend their knees to the will of chaos or die.”
Kor Phaeron’s eyes flicked with hunger as he gazed on the world below.
“While worlds are a rare point of manifestation for myself, not all have been as sedentary as the bloated egos of Sicarus.” With his loyalties changed, the astarte held no reservation about showing disapproval for the actions of his legion.
“While the gods demand redemption for your sins, I see no reason for you to muster a force for this action. Why should a sinner be granted an army of the faithful?”
“Should you not be joyous at the chance to prove the validity of your position? Such a bountiful harvest to baptise your sins in the blood of your foes. Instead you hide behind a legion you have failed repeatedly.”
A smile spread across Kor Phaeron’s face. A cold cruelty that had not been seen since Istvaan V spread into his features.
“I would be more careful with your words, need I remind you that the entire Heresy itself was my doing. I have consorted with warp entities, the gods wish the Word Bearers to scour Vigilus, and it is certainly not in your position to question them.”
The turn in Kor Phaeron’s mood caused the fabric of reality to shift behind him. The whipsers of warp w titles could faintly be heard, hovering around the master of the faith. Phaeron turned his power claws and examined the war touched edges.
“The warmaster has failed many times, if it will fall to any legion to turn the fate of the crusade, it shall fall to the first of chaos, the original traitors. It will fall to the sons of Lorgar. While the Black legion flails about like a headless animal on Vigilus’s service, I have 50 warbands of Lorgar’s bloodline standing by to inflict a far more important and precise wound upon the corpse worshippers”
“You mean to say that the gods composed you like a grand symphony by our gods. Even if you are so arrogant as to say you caused the turnings of the legions, the worlds of religious and political machinations are not similar to theaters of war. Need I remind you of your failings at Calth?” A Barbaran joy contorted his voice as he twisted the dagger of the Cardinal’s sins.
“No matter what you try, you will fail the same as the legions of Abbadon. Despite your delusions to the contrary reality doesn’t bend to your will.” As a form of nervous tick, the Justaerin examined his weapons. Ensuring clear bolt cycling and thumbing the activation node on the axe.
Phaeron remained calm.
"If reality does not bend to one's will"
He said with a deep laugh beginning. Shadows began moving along the walls in erratic patterns. A veil of psychic energy was collecting around him.
"They are simply not trying hard enough. I came here to discuss my failings, reminding me of them will not insult me further. I am chaos made into the flesh. To doubt me is to doubt the gods themselves."
He directed his claws now flickering with psychic fire at Robigo.
"Surely you would never do that"
Open RP
Kor Phaeron stood on the deck of the Black Legion Warship. He was surrounded by his Honor Guard, Several Word Bearers clad in Terminator armor so decorated with chaotic emblems and so mutated it was hardly recognizable. Traitor guardsmen hovered around, each attempting to get as close to the master of the faith as possible. Phaeron enjoyed their adoration. He had come for a rendezvous, The crusade was nearing its final objective, and with the combined forces of the chaos fleets descending upon Vigilius, They met to discuss the ongoing war.
The daemonic and blighted apostle entered the deck, followed by a pair terminator champions. One heralding openly from the ranks of the Justerian while the other showed marks of Grave Wardens, despite their obsolete structures.
Plague bells and censers clinked against the apostle’s armour as the mutated mass writhed behind its binding. Unlike others within the room, there were no weapons on the Apostle’s person.
Striding his way to Kor’s side, Deos finally spoke through the corroded vox speakers in his armour. “Cardinal,” A slight bow of his head is given in respect but no sign of kneeling. Such formalities died with the legion’s cohesion. “You summoned my counsel.”
Phaeron started straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the planet’s surface. “So many centuries it has been since last you and I gazed upon the material realm, Deos.”
Phaeron spoke with a rasp. Despite being millennia old, he had a younger look than before the great crusade, daemonic pacts and dark favor had restored his youth to an almost unearthly state. His claws hummed with anticipation.
“Do you know what this crusade is Deos? Repentance, for all of our sins. When I held Guilliman in my hands on Calth, I never dealt the final blow, and now he stands as the greatest threat to our adored masters. The Warmaster, my son, the other legions. We have all failed, time and time again. The dark gods have been forgiving for so long. This crusade is our salvation, the chance to atone for everything. Soon every man woman and child in the Imperium will bend their knees to the will of chaos or die.”
Kor Phaeron’s eyes flicked with hunger as he gazed on the world below.
“While worlds are a rare point of manifestation for myself, not all have been as sedentary as the bloated egos of Sicarus.” With his loyalties changed, the astarte held no reservation about showing disapproval for the actions of his legion.
“While the gods demand redemption for your sins, I see no reason for you to muster a force for this action. Why should a sinner be granted an army of the faithful?”
“Should you not be joyous at the chance to prove the validity of your position? Such a bountiful harvest to baptise your sins in the blood of your foes. Instead you hide behind a legion you have failed repeatedly.”
A smile spread across Kor Phaeron's face. A cold cruelty that had not been seen since Istvaan V spread into his features.
"I would be more careful with your words, need I remind you that the entire Heresy itself was my doing. I have consorted with warp entities, the gods wish the Word Bearers to scour Vigilus, and it is certainly not in your position to question them."
The turn in Kor Phaeron's mood caused the fabric of reality to shift behind him. The whipsers of warp w titles could faintly be heard, hovering around the master of the faith. Phaeron turned his power claws and examined the war touched edges.
"The warmaster has failed many times, if it will fall to any legion to turn the fate of the crusade, it shall fall to the first of chaos, the original traitors. It will fall to the sons of Lorgar. While the Black legion flails about like a headless animal on Vigilus's service, I have 50 warbands of Lorgar's bloodline standing by to inflict a far more important and precise wound upon the corpse worshippers"
Open RP
Kor Phaeron stood on the deck of the Black Legion Warship. He was surrounded by his Honor Guard, Several Word Bearers clad in Terminator armor so decorated with chaotic emblems and so mutated it was hardly recognizable. Traitor guardsmen hovered around, each attempting to get as close to the master of the faith as possible. Phaeron enjoyed their adoration. He had come for a rendezvous, The crusade was nearing its final objective, and with the combined forces of the chaos fleets descending upon Vigilius, They met to discuss the ongoing war.
The daemonic and blighted apostle entered the deck, followed by a pair terminator champions. One heralding openly from the ranks of the Justerian while the other showed marks of Grave Wardens, despite their obsolete structures.
Plague bells and censers clinked against the apostle’s armour as the mutated mass writhed behind its binding. Unlike others within the room, there were no weapons on the Apostle’s person.
Striding his way to Kor’s side, Deos finally spoke through the corroded vox speakers in his armour. “Cardinal,” A slight bow of his head is given in respect but no sign of kneeling. Such formalities died with the legion’s cohesion. “You summoned my counsel.”
Phaeron started straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the planet's surface. "So many centuries it has been since last you and I gazed upon the material realm, Deos."
Phaeron spoke with a rasp. Despite being millennia old, he had a younger look than before the great crusade, daemonic pacts and dark favor had restored his youth to an almost unearthly state. His claws hummed with anticipation.
"Do you know what this crusade is Deos? Repentance, for all of our sins. When I held Guilliman in my hands on Calth, I never dealt the final blow, and now he stands as the greatest threat to our adored masters. The Warmaster, my son, the other legions. We have all failed, time and time again. The dark gods have been forgiving for so long. This crusade is our salvation, the chance to atone for everything. Soon every man woman and child in the Imperium will bend their knees to the will of chaos or die."
Kor Phaeron's eyes flicked with hunger as he gazed on the world below.
Do accept offerings and sacrifices?
I am the master of the faith, I am not a god, for anyone to claim to be on the level of the ruinous powers is heresy
Are you capable of feeling love or even just caring about other people?
Everything I have done I have done fro my son and our legion
What's your favorite food?
Lamb barbecued
What's your opinion on cheese?
I enjoy Slaanesh Stilton, it's made by daemonettes using their own milk
What's your favorite song?
Master of Puppets by Metallica
Vin throws a brick at Kor Phaeron.
Kor Phaeron ignites his power claws*Care to take it further?
Can you do the Harlem Shake?
My armor does not allow enough freedom of movement
“I have literally seen a washing machine do the Harlem Shake.”
Throw a brick at me and it will be the last thing you do
What's your favorite meme?
"So that was a fucking lie"Applies to almost every event of the heresy
Can you do the Harlem Shake?
My armor does not allow enough freedom of movement
Could you please kill Cato Sicarius?
Cato Sicarius is actually a servant of the chaos gods embedded deep within the imperium. His behavior is his way of trying to turn the other chapters against the ultramarines
