Exterminatus Let Us Not Speak of This Heresy Ever Again

Notation: This page is for the Chaos Lord; for the Forge World, run into Lucius.

"Brothers! Welcome to the feast! Tell me, which among you lot will be the beginning course?"

— Lucius the Eternal

Lucius the Eternal, Lord Commander of the Emperor'due south Children Traitor Legion, wielding the Lash of Torment and the Bract of the Laer

Lucius the Eternal is the Champion of the Chaos God Slaanesh and a Lord Commander of the Emperor's Children Traitor Legion. Lucius is as well known equally the "Soulthief," "Fulgrim's Champion," "Blade of Aeons," and the "Scion of Chemos."

Many millennia ago, Lucius was a proud Space Marine of the Emperor's Children Legion, following his Primarch, Fulgrim, across the galaxy in the proper name of the Emperor. Forsaking all experience other than the art of close combat with the sword, Lucius diameter the scars of battle with pride and, over time, he began to equate hurting with success. By the time the Emperor's Children had been seduced by Horus' rebellion, Lucius had cut deep lines across his face up, head and chest, linking his scars in a maze of irregular patterns that distorted and plain-featured his features. Lucius slowly descended into madness. He was compelled by the whispers in his mind to commit e'er more extreme acts, furthering an intense obsession with beingness the perfect swordsman.

Lucius continued to distinguish himself in the service of his Primarch equally the III Legion descended into Chaos worship. He fought with incredible speed and skill in the gladiatorial contests Fulgrim held when the Legion was travelling from world to world. Lucius was nearly invincible, a forcefulness of nature that could non be bested. The champion remained undefeated until he was finally slain fighting the infamous Lord Commander Cyrius.

Slaanesh was loath to let such a promising protégé slip into oblivion. Over the next few solar weeks, the Artificer Armour Commander Cyrius wore began to warp and change. Cyrius' hair fell out in clumps, and night lines appeared nether his mankind, slowly pushing through his skin as a maze of scar tissue. Shortly, Lucius had emerged completely. All that remained of his executioner was a screaming, writhing confront, subsumed for eternity into Lucius' armour.

At present, Lucius stalks the galaxy equally an arrogant slaughterer who can never truly be killed. Whoever slays him and takes fifty-fifty a moment of satisfaction or pride from the act will find themselves transforming, slowly and painfully, into Lucius. The tortured visages of those who one time killed him writhe within his armour, affording the swordsman endless gratification. His ornate sabre and sentient whip have tasted the blood of champions and kings across the galaxy, and he leads his debauched warband of Emperor'south Children with total confidence, welcoming expiry with as much passion every bit he inflicts it upon his foes.

Contents

• 1 History
  • 1.one A History of Violence
  • 1.two A Crusade of One
  • 1.three The Neat Crusade
  • one.iv The Horus Heresy
    • 1.4.1 Istvaan III Atrocity
    • 1.4.2 Drop Site Massacre
  • i.5 A Primarch Possessed
  • ane.6 Angel Exterminatus
  • one.vii A Bloody Metamorphosis
  • ane.8 The Blessing of the Night Prince
  • one.9 The Eternal Duellist
  • i.10 Fall of Medusa 5
• 2 Personality
• iii Wargear
• 4 Sources
• five Gallery

History

A History of Violence

During his youth on the dismal planet of Chemos, Lucius shone out as a jewel in the dirt. He had an immense reservoir of talent that he could cascade into any pursuit that caught his fancy, and he was possessed of a boyish handsomeness that fifty-fifty the harsh air of his home planet could not mar. Lucius quickly attracted patrons from the upper echelons of power. His sponsored studies gravitated towards the arts of war, for the business of killing held a fascination for him. However it was not large-scale strategy or tactical analysis that made his eyes gleam. Instead, it was personal triumph that captivated the immature Lucius –- the duel, the competition, the sword bout. Only there could a true warrior be feted for his skills; just there could the glory and approbation be his alone, and the fine wine of victory savoured beyond all doubt.

Such was Lucius' hunger for personal glory that his unabridged life distorted around it, bending like hot metal around the pointed pursuit of excellence. Past the fourth dimension he came of historic period, the young swordsman had already surpassed the classical styles taught by the weapon masters of Chemos. During his studies, his rapier took the lives of dozens of beggars and brigands that Lucius later claimed had attacked him. He dispensed hundreds of scars to bottom pupils, even challenge an eye or a finger here and there in the occasional "blow." His character was called into doubt time and time once again, but none could argue with the lustre of his skills. As he grew older, Lucius redefined the term prodigy. He fought with lackadaisical contempt confronting youths his own age, toying with them like a cat toying with a wounded bird before delivering the scar that signalled their defeat. Against his tutors, however, he fought similar a man possessed, every iota of his existence focused upon victory.

While competing in the yearly contest held by the Elders of Chemos, Lucius' impeccable swordsmanship caught the eye of a hulking stranger who watched from the shadows. During the last circular of the Golden Sword, there was a disruption in the tourney lists, and the young swordsman found himself fighting against a famed champion twice his age. Though Lucius had proven himself the better warrior within the first few minutes, when his opponent collection a genu into his tum, the youth was knocked to the dirt. Winded, Lucius reeled and stumbled out of his foe's reach long enough to recover his breath. A frown of concentration on his boyish face up, he then proceeded to take his opponent apart, limb by limb and vein by gushing vein. The champion'south supporters were outraged at the draconian dispatching of their leader, and they stormed the arena en masse. It was then that the bloodletting began in earnest.

Lucius would have met a gory end if it were not for the intervention of the shadowy stranger observing the competition. Both the youth and the stranger disappeared before the contest's conclusion. Lucius was never seen over again among the people of Chemos. The stranger, a ranking Sergeant in the III^rd Space Marine Legion, had been so impressed by Lucius'due south raw talent and decision that he offered the youth a single chance to join the Legiones Astartes. Lucius leapt at the opportunity. And then began the military career of a young warrior who would somewhen come up to define everything that was evil and twisted in the Emperor's Children.

A Crusade of 1

Enhanced beyond mortal bounds by the blessings of the Space Marine induction process, Lucius became ever more skilled in the arts of the bract. He never tired of outclassing his peers in the exercises that their sergeants put them through every twenty-four hour period. The evening before the Feast of the Emperor'due south Approval, Lucius wrested a full sequence of flawless victories from each of the bract-machines in the exercise cages; a feat that had never been achieved before, nor replicated after.

Though his conviction and supreme skill might take earned the enmity of mortal men, his brothers in the Emperor's Children sang his praises in all honesty. Their Legion admired perfection above all else. Soon, Lucius had come to the detect of Lord Commander Eidolon. As the Neat Crusade unfolded, Lucius directed his puissant skill towards the goals of the Emperor's Children on a dozen worlds brought to Purple Compliance. He was rewarded with control of the 13th Company. At showtime, Eidolon saw his faith in Lucius as well-placed. Though the young swordsman was cocky-serving and cocky, he was never constitute wanting in the arts of war. The state of his soul was another thing.

The Great Crusade

Captain Lucius of the 13^th Company of the Emperor's Children Legion, before the Horus Heresy

Later his acme to the rank of Thirteenth Captain, Lucius had a reputation for preening arrogance. He would throw himself into any fight without hesitation and inevitably come up out the victor. On Hallelujah Prime, Lucius shattered the heads of the half dozen-armed sword gholems that protected the heretic Malachoir, using the hilt of his bract when he realised that its border could not hurt them. During the pitch-dark battles nether Olchite Mount, Lucius stormed out of an argument with the Lord Commanders and proceeded to hunt downwards and impale the thirsting xenos entities known as the Ragged Fiends one by one over the course of a unmarried twenty-four hour period. His blade was the fulcrum upon which the Fausch Revolution was overturned, and at Siegebreak, his was the sword that took the head of the Simulated Dorn. Many months passed without Lucius taking a single astern step. These frequent displays of martial supremacy merely pushed Lucius' towering ego to ever greater heights. Though he saved his brothers' lives on countless occasions, he never missed an opportunity to crow about his largesse. It became increasingly clear that he took to the battleground non because he believed in the Slap-up Cause's intention to unite Humanity, but to evidence his superiority over the balance of the galaxy.

During this fourth dimension, Lucius was gently mocked past his swain warriors for being "besides pretty." Though he had granted a thousand scars, he had yet to earn even a unmarried sword-kiss in return. It was this fact, twinned with the breaking of his septum at the hands of his peer, Garviel Loken of the Sons of Horus Legion, that led to the ritual scarification of Lucius's face up and chest. No warrior was skilled enough to gift him a proper scar, he reasoned, then he would but have to scar himself. Sometimes the tip of Lucius' blade sank as far as a finger's width into his flesh, or carved a line into the skull beneath his close-shaven scalp. These self-administered wounds were seen by his Battle-Brothers as acts of strange but commendable piety. The truth was far darker. Over the course of the wars waged by his Legion, Lucius began to equate pain with success. The network of scars he had carved into his flesh became more and more than pronounced, reflecting a dangerous masochism that had taken hold of his soul. Should Lucius be denied a chance to show off his perfect bladework, his petulance and spite would bubble violently to the surface. The counsel of his swain Emperor'south Children Captain and friend, the level-headed Saul Tarvitz of the III^rd Legion'south 10^th Company, helped Lucius see his own flaws for what they were. To his credit, Lucius made a 18-carat effort to allay them over the form of their friendship, but it was not plenty.

The reasons recorded for this disfigurement have varied. Some claim they were an expression of Lucius'due south "devotion and piety" towards the Chaos Gods, others that they were intended to deflect comments that he looked more like a boy than a warrior. In reality, Lucius had met a Slaanesh-corrupted Remembrancer and painter who accompanied the 28^th Expeditionary Armada named Serena d'Angelus. After showing Lucius her hideously scarred forearms, she explained that each scar was a memorial to ane of her victims. Lucius, whose confront was no longer unblemished after facing Garviel Loken in the training cages, understood better than anyone that his appearance would never be flawless again, and and then scarred his face without remorse. Later on this meeting he added a scar to his body every time he met a worthy opponent, such as earlier duelling with his former comrade and best friend, Saul Tarvitz, during the Istvaan Iii Atrocity.

The Horus Heresy

The Anarchy-corrupted swordsman, Lucius the Eternal, during the Horus Heresy

Equally the machinations of Horus were revealed, the Emperor's Children began their autumn from grace. First amongst them was the Primarch Fulgrim. The Phoenician sought to rescue Horus from himself, but he became hopelessly corrupted by the words and weapons of the Warmaster in the process. Next to succumb were the III^rd Legion's spiritual and martial leaders, each lured by the promise of perfection and caught upon the hooks of excess that Horus bandage in their path. Slowly at starting time, the corruption spread to the rank and file –- the Emperor'due south Children revered their Primarch and his Lord Commanders in all things, and they followed their masters' doctrine to the letter. Horus' insidious plan began to deport fruit as spiritual perversion spread throughout the 3^rd Legion at an unchecked pace. By the time the Warmaster ordered his Traitor Legions to plow upon their Loyalist brothers at Istvaan III, about every one of the Emperor'southward Children had fallen nether the sway of the Dark Prince.

Istvaan 3 Atrocity

Lucius' descent into the clutches of Chaos only deepened during the Istvaan III Atrocity afterwards Horus betrayed the Loyalists within his own Traitor Legions to cleanse his troops of any who remained beholden to the will of the Emperor of Mankind. Originally forced to fight on the side of the Loyalist Astartes during the three-calendar month-long battle on that devastated world because his friendship with Tarvitz had made the Legion'southward leaders believe he would non back up their decision to betray the Emperor, Lucius' pride and jealousy eventually overwhelmed him. Lucius came to resent Tarvitz'south part in their success confronting the enemy and the respect he commanded from the other Loyalist Astartes. Lucius contacted Lord Commander Eidolon and promised to deliver Tarvitz -- and break the Loyalists' defences -- for the Warmaster in render for being reaccepted into the Legion. Eidolon accepted the proposal. Lucius slaughtered a group of 30 Astartes who were defending the Loyalists' lines to open the way for the Traitors' final attack against their onetime brethren. Lucius succeeded in this assassination with the aid of Captain Solomon Demeter of the ii^nd Visitor of the Emperor's Children, who had also remained a Loyalist and realised too late that Lucius had tricked him into attacking a grouping of Loyalist Astartes. Lucius slew the wounded Demeter just after he realised with horror the full extent of his fault and Lucius' betrayal. With his place restored in the ranks of the Traitors, Lucius and then challenged Saul Tarvitz to a one-on-one duel to finally decide who was the better warrior. Tarvitz emerged the victor, just Lucius fled the battle and returned to the arms of his Traitor Legion, having fulfilled his side of the bargain.

Drop Site Massacre

During the Drib Site Massacre on Istvaan V, the tragic campaign that saw the near devastation of iii Loyalist Legions, including the Atomic number 26 Hands, Raven Guard and Salamanders, Lucius willingly took part in the slaughter of his former Astartes cousins. At the forefront of the Emperor's Children, Lord Commander Eidolon and the swordsman Lucius led a contingent of their warriors into the heart of the enemy, killing with wondrous displays of bladework and howling shrieks of raw sonic ability. The swordsman danced through the boxing, his Terran blade carving a screaming, bloody path as he laughed in fourth dimension with music only he could hear.

A Primarch Possessed

After the events of Istvaan Five played out to their bloody, inevitable conclusion, the Astartes of the III^rd Legion had no idea that their beloved leader was clawing ineffectually at the bondage of his own mind in which he was held. Only Lucius had appeared to realise that something was amiss with Fulgrim, but even he had said nothing. The daemon-Fulgrim had sensed the burgeoning Warp bear on upon the swordsman and had presented him with the silverish daemonblade inside which the Laer had originally bound a fragment of the daemon's essence, every bit he now wielded the far more potent Kinebrach Anathame, a gift from Horus. Though the Blade of the Laer was now bereft of its daemonic spirit, there was withal ability inside the blade, ability that would empower Lucius in the years of death to come up.

After the conclave aboard Horus' flagship, the daemon-Fulgrim and the Emperor's Children Legion were ordered to Mars to aid the coming civil war within the Mechanicum past the Warmaster. But instead of following his brother'southward orders, the increasingly mercurial Primarch decided to disobey, and instead ordered his Legion to assault an Adeptus Mechanicus crystal Mining World called Prismatica Five. Unable to deal with his lord's mercurial temperament besides as his fellow senior members of the Legion, Lord Commander Eidolon questioned the Primarch's orders. This proved to be a tragic miscalculation on Eidolon'southward office. Unable to placate his angered lord, the few words he managed to speak on his own behalf inadvertently provoked the Primarch further. The paranoid Primarch believed that the Lord Commander was mocking him and planned to betray him. Quicker than the listen'due south centre could follow, the Primarch withdrew the Anathame from its scabbard and slew his once-favoured son. He and so held the severed head of the slain Eidolon over the opened casks of victory wine, the sticky blood dripping from the grisly bays and mixing with the potent beverage which was so shared among the senior members of the 3^rd Legion's inner circle.

Far from upset at the death of the much-despised Eidolon, the dominant champion of the Emperor's Children, Lucius, took note of yet another example of Fulgrim'southward increasingly capricious behaviour. Contemplating upon the alter in his lord, Lucius was inspired to investigate further after receiving a series of night dreams concerning the painting of the Primarch that hang in La Fenice , which had been cordoned off and sealed by a detachment of the Phoenix Guard after the Maraviglia had worked its corrupting influence upon the Legion. Already concerned by his lord'due south erratic behaviour and strange moods, Lucius proceeded to scrutinise the Primarch's every move. His concerns grew even more when he noticed Fulgrim'southward lack of brotherly-camaraderie and observance of Legion rituals and tradition. But what truly aroused Lucius' suspicions was the realisation that Fulgrim's swordsmanship was suddenly junior to his own superlative skills. His Primarch was non whom he appeared to exist. His suspicions were further confirmed when he witnessed Fulgrim employing powerful psychic abilities in open gainsay confronting a Warhound-class Titan of the Mechanicum during the Three^rd Legion'due south assault on Prismatica V.

Lucius continued to receive the strange dreams in his sleep, and began to follow the threads implanted by these prescient visions. Breaking a continuing order, Lucius defied the Primarch and went to investigate La Fenice, the theatre located aboard the Emperor's Childrens' flagship Pride of the Emperor. This is where the Emperor'southward Children had truly fallen to the corrupting influence of Slaanesh, awakened past the operatic symphony known as the Maraviglia. Investigating the ruined chamber thoroughly, Lucius discovered in a higher place the stage that a peachy portrait hung above the smashed wreckage of the proscenium. Fifty-fifty in the dying light, the portrait's magnificence was palpable. A glorious gold frame held the sheet trapped inside its embrace, and the wondrous perfection of the painting was truly breathtaking. Clad in his wondrous armour of regal and gilded, Fulgrim was portrayed earlier the great gates of the Heliopolis, the heart of the flagship, the flaming wings of a nifty phoenix sweeping upwardly behind him. The firelight of the legendary bird shone upon his armour, each polished plate seeming to shimmer with the heat of the fire, his hair a cascade of gold. The Primarch of the Emperor's Children was lovingly portrayed in perfect item, every nuance of his grandeur and the life that made Fulgrim such a vision of beauty captured in the exquisite brushwork. No finer effigy of a warrior had always existed or ever would over again, and to even glimpse such a flawless case of the painter'south art was to know that wonder still existed in the galaxy.

Gazing at the eyes of the painting, Lucius could see the horror inside his Primarch's eyes, a horror that had not been rendered by the skill of a mortal painter. The perfect, exquisite agony burned in the portrait'southward gaze, the nighttime pools of the painted eyes seemed to follow his every movement. Lucius came to the conclusion that somehow, his Primarch was trapped within the painting, and that the entity that paraded effectually as their Legion'south lord was an impostor. Determined to gratis his Primarch by any means at his disposal, Lucius secretly convened the Brotherhood of the Phoenix -- the sectional warrior order of the Iii^rd Legion that only immune warriors of officer rank to join because of the Legion'due south dearest of hierarchy. This had to be done with the utmost secrecy, for by this time the corrupted senior officers had become powerful, volatile and self-obsessed with the pursuit of their individual pleasures. Also, many of these senior officers carried a loathing for Lucius, whom they viewed as a despised upstart. Through his skilled oratory, the swordsman was able to persuade his mercurial brothers that the Primarch was not himself. He further challenged their egos and stroked their vanity, tempting them into boldly capturing their Primarch. Shortly after, the Brotherhood of the Phoenix ambushed the Primarch, and despite taking several casualties, manage to subdue their lord by rendering him unconscious.

The Primarch was then taken to the Apothecarion of the III^rd Legion's Chief Apothecary Fabius Bile, where he was strapped downwards to one of the examination tables. Here, Fabius, Lucius, Julius Kaesoron and Marius Vairosean attempted to drive forth the daemonic entity from their lord'southward mortal trounce through a protracted torture session known every bit excruciation. Fulgrim willingly submitted himself to his tormentors' ministrations, and continuously spoke of his perceptions of reality, events that were currently taking identify in the galaxy every bit Chaos grew in power and the envisioned path for his Legion. During the torture session, Lucius suddenly realised that they had been misled. Misinterpreting the situation, they had been duped by their lord. Lucius immediately bended his knee joint and prostrated himself earlier his Primarch as Fulgrim hands tore himself gratis from his restraints. His fellow conspirators all bowed to their lord and principal. Content that his favoured sons had learned from the experience, the Primarch did not punish them for their transgressions, for he was not the daemon-possessed shell of the Phoenix as he had immune his Astartes to believe, only the human himself.

Fulgrim decided to share with Lucius his motives for such an elaborate ruse. He revealed that he had indeed been possessed by a daemonic entity for quite some time, an entity that had trapped his disembodied spirit within the great portrait that had hung in La Fenice. Unwilling to accept his fate, the Primarch had bided his time and used the tormenting feel to learn of Warp-craft and the infallible ways of daemonkind. He eventually was able to apply this newly acquired arcane knowledge to force the daemon out of his mortal body -- swapping places with the foul entity -- and trapping information technology within the portrait for all fourth dimension. Presumably, it was the daemon that had been sending Lucius the dark dreams in gild to attempt to costless itself from its prison. In an attempt to further educate his favoured champion in the unfathomable ways of Chaos, the Primarch's apparent inferiority in his sword techniques was merely a ploy to manipulate Lucius into challenging him. The Primarch went on to explicate that his mercurial moods and lack of interest in camaraderie and the 3^rd Legion's rituals were a natural evolution of his nature to attain perfection along the path laid out by Slaanesh. Fulgrim announced that he intended to go further than anyone in the realms of sensual feel, intent on pushing the boundaries of reality to the extreme. Fulgrim didn't merely want to accomplish these things for the sole acquisition of power, but to experience the journey -- a journey he wanted his sons to undertake with him. He explained that he had ordered the set on on Prismatica 5 to claim the crystal the Mechanicus had been mining in that location and so that it might exist used to erect a wondrous new city of mirrors dedicated to the exploration of sensual pleasure and self-enlightenment through sensation. But the next step on the Emperor'southward Children's path towards enlightenment through Chaos, was to rendezvous with the Primarch Perturabo and his Iron Warriors Legion.

Angel Exterminatus

Lucius would afterwards take office in the joint trek comprised of both the Emperor's Children and the Iron Warriors Traitor Legions into the Eye of Terror to seek out the forbidden xenos weapon known as the Angel Exterminatus. It had been hidden in the grave of its doom, a weapon of such power that the stars themselves turned upon it rather than allow it to escape its prison. The destination of the joint fleet of Iron Warriors and Emperor's Children vessels was the lost Eldar world of Iydris, a world said to have been favoured by the goddess Lileath. Iydris was 1 of the legendary Crone Worlds, which one time formed the heart of the lost Eldar empire before they were consumed by the cosmos of the vast Warp Rift that was the Heart of Terror following the birth of the Chaos God Slaanesh in the early 30th Millennium. The lost world was located at the heart of the Eye of Terror, somehow remaining in a fixed position keeping it from destruction in the gravitational hellstorm of a supermassive blackness hole that lay at the centre of the eternal Warp Storm.

Their ultimate goal was within the Primarchs' grasp; the Sepulchre of Isha's Doom, which sabbatum at the middle of the citadel of Amon ny-shak Kaelis. Only Fulgrim had lied to his blood brother Primarch Perturabo, for in reality the reason they had come to the Crone World was so that the Emperor'south Children Primarch could achieve apotheosis and become a Daemon Prince. During an ballsy climactic boxing within the Sepulchre of Isha'southward Doom, Lucius fought confronting a multitude of Eldar Wraith constructs every bit well as their former comrades from the Iron Warriors. During the climax of the battle, Lucius besides faced a small-scale Loyalist strength from the Sisypheum , an Iron Hands vessel that had survived the destruction of the Drop Site Massacre and fled, waging a guerrilla war against the forces of the Warmaster Horus. They had tracked Fulgrim to this benighted place, intent on thwarting whatever foul plans he intended to carry out.

Lucius was again confronted by Nykona Sharrowkyn, a surviving boxing-blood brother of the Raven Guard Legion. He had faced the Loyalist Astartes on the earth of Hydra Cordatus, where the Raven Guard and a fellow Loyalist had attempted, and failed, to assassinate his Primarch Fulgrim. Fighting with twin black swords extended before him, the Raven Guard sprang to the assail. Arrogantly, the corrupted swordsman believed that no i could possibly best him. Sharrowkyn proved him incorrect. A blade plunged into Lucius' side, and Lucius twisted away from the peppery, unexpected and exquisite hurting. He shook his eyes articulate of blood and felt the Raven Guard behind him – he spun and thrust low with his sword, merely one time over again his blades cut air and not flesh. Another lancing blow plunged into his back, and this time the pain was an unwelcome sensation. Lucius could run into the Raven Guard, only he moved like zip he had e'er seen before, faster than any mortal man could mayhap move, like a wraith or a being out of pace with time. A black blade licked out and laid his cheek bare to the bone, a matching wound to the 1 Sharrowkyn had given him the last time their blades had crossed. Lucius spun, feeling of a sudden helpless as the Raven Guard slipped effectually him with dizzying speed, his blades stabbing again and once again. Lucius felt his sword tumble from his mitt.

Then the Raven Guard was at Lucius'south dorsum, pushing him to his knees, blades pressed down through his gorget into the hollows either side of his neck. He informed the doomed Emperor's Children swordsman that it gave him no pleasure to kill him. Lucius attempted to speak, to say something to mark his decease. Just Sharrowkyn's blades stabbed down behind Lucius'southward collarbone, tearing through both his hearts and lungs, severing arteries and wreaking catastrophic harm that not even a Space Marine'due south mail service-human physiology could undo. And all thoughts of a worthy valediction died with him. Somehow the Apothecary Fabius managed to somehow recover Lucius'south battered body and revived him through some unknown process, returning the arrogant swordsman to life.

A Encarmine Metamorphosis

Lucius the Eternal - The Soulthief and Anarchy Champion of Slaanesh

Following the events that occurred in the Eye of Terror, Lucius connected to distinguish himself in the arts of war equally his Legion traced the down spiral of Chaos worship. The gaudily-painted fleets of Fulgrim'southward traitor Legion moved from world to earth, bringing ever more vile and extreme deaths to the populations that became their prey. In the transitory times between each invasion, the Emperor'southward Children would indulge in pageants of violence and gladiatorial contests among themselves. Just the almost inventive displays of bloodletting could stay their boredom for long.

Whenever he fought in these contests, Lucius truly excelled. His obsession with condign the perfect swordsman lent him speed and skill that fifty-fifty other Space Marines could non match. The joy he took in both giving and receiving the hot kiss of agony was so intense that it echoed in both in the textile dimension and the Warp. Some fifty-fifty whispered that Lucius had been brought back from the brink of oblivion more than once, and that his obsession was stronger than death. Lucius' infamy grew in this realm and the side by side. Before long, it was not simply the Emperor's Children that drank in each of Lucius' orgies of bloodletting, just the handmaidens of Slaanesh that clustered around his reflection in the Firmament. Afterwards each contest, he basked in the adulation of his fellow Traitor Legionnaires, bowing elaborately and fanning the applause with his blade. His grandstanding was such that it eventually collection the argent-maned Lord Commander Cyrius to action.

Equally the contest known every bit the Scarlet Bract reached its final round, Cyrius himself stepped into the arena confronting Lucius. The Lord Commander intended to teach the preening champion his identify and cement his own position equally Fulgrim's favoured son in the process. Clad in baroque artificer armour painted with obscene dreamscapes and wielding a twelve-foot power spear, Cyrius made for an impressive opponent indeed.

The Lord Commander was every bit as fast as his chosen foe. Lucius fought difficult to get within the reach of the power spear, ducking and rolling with fluid grace. Weapons clashed and clanged in a staccato blur. Though Lucius' blade was sharp every bit a razor, it could not penetrate Cyrius's ornate boxing plate, and for his part the swordsman was wearing little more than than a sleeved tunic. A well-placed kick from Cyrius sent Lucius sprawling backwards, coughing blood. A stab of the power spear took a finger from Lucius' sword paw. Less than a second afterward, a sidelong blow from the power spear's haft sent starbursts across the swordsman'southward vision.

Each fresh wound had sent Lucius giggling with glee. Cyrius bared his teeth, slashing and jabbing as his opponent laughed, staggered and whirled beyond the crimson sands similar a demented marionette. At the last, Lucius corkscrewed through the air and levelled a decapitating blow correct at Cyrius' throat. In that location was a sudden crack of electric belch from the impact, and Lucius' blade snapped in two. As the crowd howled and hollered effectually him, Lord Commander Cyrius defenseless his laughing opponent by the throat. Grin a mirthless smile, he pounded Lucius into the cerise sands of the arena until there was nothing left merely a red ruin of broken bone. The Emperor'due south Children had lost their favoured duellist, only gained a retentiveness to exist savoured for years to come.

Over the next few weeks, Lord Commander Cyrius underwent a hideous transformation. His mane of hair barbarous out in clumps, his eyes changed colour, and the copulating figures that busy his armour writhed and flowed to depict a host of laughing daemons. To the commander'south mounting horror, dark lines appeared under his mankind, pushing outward with each passing night until they formed a maze of scar tissue. His screams were a source of great interest to his fellow Emperor'southward Children, but none came to his aid. In the Lord Commander'southward fate they saw the hand of Slaanesh at work. Some swore that Cyrius' shrieks changed in tone, becoming ever more like maniacal laughter. The next gladiatorial event saw Lucius stride the sands once more, his power armour adorned with the tortured, moaning face up of Cyrius. The heavily scarred swordsman had been reborn, and the Lord Commander had been taken in his place. In the throne at the arena'south edge, Fulgrim smiled knowingly. His chief Slaanesh was evidently loath to let such an entertaining protege autumn from the mortal coil for long.

Since that 24-hour interval, Lucius has borne a peculiar blessing from his patron, Slaanesh. Whoever takes his chosen champion's life, and finds even a moment of satisfaction from the act, will detect themselves undergoing a painful and gradual metamorphosis. When the transformation is almost complete, Lucius emerges from their discarded shell similar a butterfly from a chrysalis. All that remains of his killer volition be a screaming face trapped forever in the fleshy panels of his twisted battle plate. Thanks to his peculiar blessing, Lucius the Eternal has stalked the galaxy for well-nigh x thou years. He is a pitiless and sadistic killer who welcomes death with as much passion equally he inflicts it upon his foes, and he tin can merely truly be slain by 1 who has zip but mercy in his -- or her -- soul. Whether such a being exists in an uncaring universe, only Slaanesh knows, and the secrets of the gods are not meant to exist shared.

The Blessing of the Nighttime Prince

Lucius the Eternal slaughtering a group of Dark Eldar Wychs

After these events, Lucius eventually rose to become one of the two Lord Commanders of the Emperor's Children, after that Traitor Legion had been cemented in thrall to Slaanesh. Lucius did not obtain that position hands, all the same, for he was really slain during an Emperor'south Children gladiatorial game by the Anarchy Space Marine he had challenged for the rank, Lord Commander Cyrius. Lucius' expiry was described as an feel of such "transcendent pleasure" that it caused Slaanesh himself to arbitrate and to reincarnate Lucius within the body of the previously victorious Cyrius; the latter'due south soul became a trapped, screaming face within Lucius' Artificer Armour past the volition of the Prince of Pleasure.

Lucius at present stalks the galaxy equally an arrogant slaughterer who can never truly be killed. Whoever slays him and takes even a moment of satisfaction from the act will discover themselves transforming, slowly and painfully, into Lucius. The twisted, howling visages of those who in one case killed him writhe within his armour, affording Lucius endless gratification. He leads his warband of Emperor's Children Heretic Astartes with full conviction, welcoming death with the same passion he unleashes upon his foes.

The Eternal Duellist

Over the course of many Terran millennia, Lucius the Eternal led his motley warband beyond the galaxy on the trail of the deadliest opponents his network of admiring torture-cultists tin locate for him. He intends to hunt downward the best melee fighters in the galaxy and beat them in one-on-one combat or die in the attempt. Over the class of several Terran centuries he defeats the Dark Eldar Archon Vraesque in cursed Shaa-dom, the Emperor's Champion of the Black Templars at Veilfate, and the Ork Warboss 2-klaws at Octarius Sigma. Eventually, on a nameless moon well-nigh Damnos, Lucius is cut down by the shape-shifting Necron duellist known only every bit the Phasing Sword. Not even the Necron'southward body of living metallic tin can prevent the Slaaneshi Champion'due south strange possession-curse from taking hold, notwithstanding, for the undying Necron takes a cold pride in its victory, and that is the seed of its undoing. Lucius is reborn inside his killer inside solar days, the xenos warrior'due south necrodermis body drizzling abroad like molten metal to reveal the twisted swordsman, as arrogant and maniacal equally ever.

Fall of Medusa V

During the Fall of Medusa V campaign in 999.M41 Lucius fought in several dissimilar locations, including Hive Edethor and Hive Hydra.

Personality

Lucius was ever defined even before his corruption by Anarchy as a superlative swordsman, more skilled than whatsoever other Astartes of the Emperor's Children Legion. This skill was Lucius' pride and joy and the source of his extreme egotism. Unfortunately, Lucius was young, selfish, egotistical and impulsive. These were initially qualities that he recognised as flaws and hoped to overcome with the aid of his friend Saul Tarvitz. Lucius often displayed a bullheaded devotion to his Primarch Fulgrim, and he exemplified one of the principal aspects of his Legion's pursuit of martial perfection: ambition.

Afterwards the Heresy, Lucius was primarily motivated by the pursuit of true challenges in combat and came to equate pain with success, delighting in the thrill of boxing. Due to his egotistical pride, Lucius was said to but fight at his best when a "worthy" opponent was nowadays to test his skills.

Wargear

Lucius the Eternal arrayed in his fearsome, Anarchy-altered panoply of state of war

• Armour of Shrieking Souls - Lucius is able to constantly reincarnate within the torso of any existence that manages to kill him, effectively making him immortal. And then long as the killer takes some measure of satisfaction from the victory over Lucius, this volition result in the victor's body transforming and their soul becoming trapped in Lucius' suit of Ability Armour, a daemonic artefact known as the Armour of Shrieking Souls. This armour draws its hellish force from the thousands of souls trapped within it, providing Lucius with enhanced protection from any onslaught he encounters. Lucius is also able to focus the residue energies of the imprisoned souls' torment into a lethal sonic crescendo on an opponent'due south mind at will, causing the foe immense pain. Lucius' ancient Mk iv Power Armour is all only hidden under a writhing pare of tortured mankind.
• Commorite Stimm-Rack - Lucius further bolsters his already superhuman speed and strength with exotic combat stimulants, a prize wrested from the gladiatorial arenas of the Dark Eldar. The stimm-rack that dumps these combat drugs into his system before each duel was implanted within his mankind by the renegade Chirurgeon Fabius Bile, a fellow student of the black arts and pilgrim to hidden Commorragh.
• Lash of Torment - In his right hand, Lucius is armed with his personal Daemon Weapon, a gift from Slaanesh known every bit a Lash of Torment. This weapon takes the form of either a whip, or multiple lengthy tendrils, that twists and coils with a mind of its own. Cruelly barbed hooks run along its length and its sinuous coils are warm yet unsettling to the touch. Within this physical vessel is bound the essence of a Daemonette, and the whip is in plow bound to its bearer, either fusing to and ultimately absorbing his or her hand, or past fusing directly to his or her spine similar a Mechadendrite. The Lash of Torment is, like all Daemon Weapons, sentient and has a volition of its own. In battle it will move independently from its bearer, attempting to coil effectually whatever living being foolish enough to go shut. Once information technology has trapped a victim, the Lash will writhe and constrict effectually the hapless being, slowly suffocating it and cut information technology to pieces with its multiple barbs. The most agonizing power of the Lash is that information technology does non but thrive on the pain and fear of its victims, it also psychically projects these feelings to all those in the vicinity of its actions. Servants of Slaanesh find this highly entertaining and wonderfully pleasurable, but other beings take been seen running abroad in terror when forced to experience the terrible agony of one of their fellows caught in the Lash of Torment. Even exterior of gainsay, the Lash 's ability to project emotions is a valued tool during the debased and perverse rituals of praise that the servants of Slaanesh appoint in.
• Bract of the Laer - In Lucius' left paw, he wields a relic Power Sword from the Great Crusade. Millennia ago, following the Driblet Site Massacre on Istvaan V, the Greater Daemon of Slaanesh who possessed the body of the Primarch Fulgrim presented the Daemonsword Fulgrim had recovered from the homeworld of the xenos known as the Laer to Lucius equally a sign of Slaanesh'southward favour. This alien, single-edged blade once contained the captured essence of the daemon that possessed Fulgrim, just lost much of its power once the daemon was freed from imprisonment within the sword to inhabit the unfortunate Primarch's trunk for a time. Now the blade is an ordinary Power Sword of an exquisitely curved, single-edged design, but in Lucius' easily information technology remains as lethal equally any blade that has always been forged.
• Mark of Slaanesh - Lucius also bears the Mark of Slaanesh upon the Armour of Shrieking Souls and is equipped with Slaaneshi combat drugs intended to heighten the sensations of boxing. He is empowered with the powers wrought past Slaanesh's favour and daemonic concrete strength and durability. Lucius has mutated considerably in the Terran millennia since his fall to Anarchy and among the physical "gifts" he has received from the Prince of Pleasance are a pair of goat-like cloven hooves.
• Doom Siren
• Frag Grenades
• Krak Grenades

Sources

• Codex Heretic Astartes - Chaos Space Marines (8th Edition), pp. 48, 85, 120
• Codex: Anarchy Space Marines (6th Edition), pg. 62
• Codex: Chaos Infinite Marines (4th Edition), pg. 54
• Codex: Anarchy Space Marines (tertiary Edition, 2nd Codex), pg. 57
• Horus Heresy: Collected Visions, pg. 183
• Warlords of the Nighttime Millennium: Lucius the Eternal (Digital Edition), pp. 3, 5-8, 9-12, xiv-xv, 17-xx, 22-29
• White Dwarf 255 (The states), "Index Astartes Kickoff Founding: Children of the Emperor"
• Horus Ascent (Novel) by Dan Abnett, pp. 178-181, 191, 194-201, 216-217, 219-227, 249, 252, 255-256, 283, 316-319, 336
• Galaxy in Flames (Novel) by Ben Counter, pp. 21-22, 25, 27-28, 79-80, 82, 108-110, 120-123, 128-130, 152-156, 159-161, 163, 166-168, 176, 207, 211-212, 219-230, 233, 235-238, 247-248, 252-254, 256-260, 266
• The Flight of the Eisenstein (Novel) by James Swallow, pg. 168
• Fulgrim (Novel) by Graham McNeill, pp. 65-66, 187-188, 190, 192-194, 198, 204, 213, 221, 240-243, 245, 262-265, 271-273, 291-293, 323, 325, 329-331, 344-348, 399, 401-404, 412
• The Primarchs (Anthology) edited by Christian Dunn, "The Reflection Crack'd" past Graham McNeill, pp. vi-22, 25-34, 36-55
• Angel Exterminatus (Novel) past Graham McNeill, pp. 52, 89-91, 122-124, 134, 145-146, 152-157, 182, 208-211, 220, 239, 260-262, 268, 271-273, 286-288

Gallery

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Source: https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Lucius_the_Eternal

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