Warhammer: The 11th Primarch - The Black Emperor

At the northeastern edge of Segmentum Solar, near the Segmentum Obscurus, lay the Fenris System.

In Fenris, the Ascromanni tribe of Fenris, tall and strong, were forced to abandon their islands and board over twenty ships with black sails.

A year ago, a seer had foretold the destruction of the solid ground that had supported their lives for nine years. They prepared in advance and boarded their sail-powered ships just before the great storm arrived.

The tribes people wore long masks over their sharp-featured faces, and their beards were waxed into radiating spikes.

The men stood solemnly, gripping axes and warhammers tightly as they looked up into the sky.

A golden aircraft streaked across the heavens, leaving a white trail.

Inside the gunship were three beings from beyond the stars, observing the world below.

Nareth, clad in black armor, peered through a viewing window, watching volcanic lava breach the ocean surface.

Molten rock turned vast areas into a sea of fire, "boiling" the ocean and triggering massive floods and tides that engulfed several islands, including the one belonging to the tribe below.

Meanwhile, violet smoke, formed from crimson lava and indigo sea water mingling together, rose into the air. Amid the sulfuric haze, new islands were forming.

"It seems Fenris is in summer right now," said Alpharius, who was holding a spear and clad in green robes.

Nareth knew that Fenris was a planet of ice and fire, completing a single orbit around its sun every three to four Terran years.

During its brief summer months, the land of Fenris changed dramatically; new islands formed while others vanished.

These violent seasonal changes shaped Fenris's people into nomadic, warlike tribes.

Most Fenrisians spent their lives struggling for survival across the ocean that covered most of their planet, enduring endless earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, and storms.

Tribes constantly vied for safe land, fighting fiercely over territory.

"That warrior the merchant spoke of is in Asaheim, far to the north."

"They say he defeated a hundred men alone in three minutes, uprooted a whole tree and snapped it over his back, wrestled with a mammoth, and ate an entire wild ox during a feast..."

The Emperor, dressed in golden robes, finally spoke.

Nareth knew that Asaheim was the only permanent landmass on Fenris's surface, located at the planet's arctic pole, the top of the world.

Only near Asaheim could Fenrisians enjoy even slight protection from their planet's extreme climate.

As the "Wolf's Moon" rose into Fenris's sky, Nareth saw a frozen landmass rise thousands of kilometers above the sea.

Jagged cliffs left no shores to land on, separating it from the ocean.

Lava and molten rock crashed against the icy cliffs, carving craters and pits of various depths into the frozen land.

The gunship soared up over the cliff and flew inland.

Even during the blazing summer, Asaheim remained glacier-covered. Nareth, eyes deep and curious, observed giant ice worms burrowing through the glacial fjords.

'That creature has traces of spirit energy… potion ingredients.'

As the gunship went deeper inland, Nareth saw several rare potion materials.

'This trip wasn't in vain. Fenris really does have a few rare potion resources.

Once the Wolf King accepts his father, I'll be able to send 'Hunters' to gather them.'

When the Wolf's Moon hung high in the sky, a large tribal camp appeared in Nareth's vision.

Bonfires roared skyward, and hide tents were scattered throughout the encampment.

At the camp's center was a wooden structure that, by Vostroyan standards, was merely a modest stone house, but on Fenris, it was a grand hall.

The pilot searched for a flat spot and brought the gunship down.

Wrapped in thick furs, the Fenrisians roared like beasts and surrounded the gunship.

The ramp hit the snow. The Emperor was the first to step down.

Nareth followed a step behind, walking just to the Emperor's side. Alpharius stayed one step behind Nareth, flanking the Emperor from the other side.

Nareth studied the Fenrisians before him. Their manes were wild and fluffy, and their hides were filthy. Over their clothing, they wore leather and iron scale armor. Though the armor looked smooth, it appeared primitive and crude under torchlight.

Their muscles bulged, straining the armor.

Their necks and tattooed faces were filthy. Their hair was even filthier.

Their scent was intense, on par with hive-rats from the underhives.

Yet the Nareth showed no revulsion. His attention was drawn to the tallest figure among the tribesmen.

This man towered over even Alpharius, almost as tall as Horus, though still shorter than Nareth.

He wore the same rough furs and armor as his followers. His long, golden hair was combed back in the same style as his warriors.

At his feet walked two massive wolves, one black, one gray. Their coats were so lustrous, the gray one was nearly silver.

Nareth's pitch-black eyes stared at the giant wolves.

'Fenris's most famous wolves… yet not potion materials.'

The moment the Emperor laid eyes on the warrior, he knew this was his lost son.

Nareth saw golden light emanate from the Emperor, invisible yet radiant.

The wild Fenrisians couldn't see the light, but they sensed the majesty of the figure before them.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The proud warriors of Fenris fell to their knees. Even the two giant wolves lay flat on the ice.

Only the tallest warrior remained standing, roaring in defiance.

"I am your king! Get up!"

In an instant, the Emperor learned both of Fenris's native Low Gothic dialects, Vlka and Juvyk.

Vlka, or "Wolf Tongue," was a rough, direct battle language. Juvyk, or "Heart Tongue," was used for everyday speech.

The Emperor was familiar with both; they closely resembled ancient languages from Scandinavia in Old Terra, brought here by early colonists.

The Emperor dimmed his radiance, allowing the Fenrisians to rise, though none could meet his gaze. The aura still lingered, pressing on their souls.

In a warm voice, the Emperor spoke in Juvyk:

"My son, I am your father."

Nareth's mind swept outward, touching each warrior's spirit and unlocking their minds as easily as ice cracking under pressure. In almost the same amount of time as the Emperor, he mastered both Vlka and Juvyk.

At the same time, he grasped the locations of several of Fenris's key landmarks.

"I have ended the wars on Terra, our homeworld. I've launched the Great Crusade to reunite the lost colonies under the banner of the Imperium."

"I am the Master of Mankind. And you are my lost son. You must swear loyalty to me and follow me to the stars, to fulfill your purpose."

The towering warrior stared at the stranger in astonishment. He didn't understand how this outsider could speak Juvik, but he wouldn't submit just because of a few words.

He strode forward, glaring challengingly at the Emperor.

"I refuse!" he growled.

"I am Leman of the Russ tribe, son of Fenris, not your son!"

Nareth knew that this Pimarch had been raised by wolves until he was found by the chieftain of the Tengl tribe.

The wolves had attacked the tribe's village, and the young primarch protected their retreat.

The king organized hunters to wipe them out. Most of the wolves, including the wolf mother who raised him, were slaughtered. His two wolf brothers, the twins Freki and Geri, were captured and brought before the king.

Seeing the boy's heroic potential, the king adopted him and gave him the name Leman Russ.

"I am the Wolf King, ruler of Fenris. I will not bow to you!"

"My son, you must accept this. It is your duty!"

Nareth sensed that the Emperor had not used psychic powers, only conviction infused into his voice, trying to move Russ through sheer presence.

Russ frowned, then spoke:

"In the customs of Fenris, if you want me to call you master, you must defeat me."

"Win just one of three challenges, and I will swear loyalty to you."

...

If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.

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