Dusk Striders

by Lovegoo Lass

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Dark, Anthro
Length: 3804

There is a thin line between good and evil that few dare to tread.

Additional tags: Anthro

There is a thin line between good an evil, between light and dark, that few dare to tread. Only those with a will as strong as diamond can hope to walk the line without falling to their doom. Many have tried and many have failed, yet twelve humans, strong and skilled, now find themselves thrown into the dusk. They must walk or perish at the hands of former friends and new enemies. They must hold back the dark to save the light, but it may consume them in the process.

Remember to rate and comment, and constructive criticism is always appreciated. Enjoy.

Super special thanks to the following for allowing me to use their OC's or likeness in this story:
Fedte as Fedte
Canman123 as Umbra Aquila

Even bigger thanks to Fedte for the cover art and the Warhammer Wiki for additional information. Also a big shout out to Carni for letting me use his changeling ideas.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-25 05:30:02 UTC

The Story of Man

"The Emperor Protects..."

— The Lectitio Divinitatus

Dusk Striders

Chapter 1

The Story of Man

The lonely chirp of a single cricket sounded in the calm summer night as ten colts, two fillies and one mare walked silently through a field of tall green grass. The dual moons and countless stars watched and guided the party as they moved down a thin dirt path in a single file. The mare, an old teacher with her fair share of wrinkles hidden under her light purple coat, held a small lantern in her hand to push back the night while her other appendage held a blue shawl closed over her small frame. She tried her best to stand tall on her two lithe legs to maintain appearances for the children, but she could not deny the slight droop in her shoulders. Under the mare’s wool cover was a white button up shirt tucked into a long black skirt. Her silvery mane was tied into a bun, and her hooves remain uncovered as her matching tail swayed in the soft breeze. The mare slowed a bit as she turned, her yellow eyes filled with worry as she cast a watchful glance over the young ones moving in her wake.

“Move along children.” called out the mare before returning her gaze forward.

Heeding their superior’s words the twelve young ponies picked up the pace despite their mutual fear. None of the twelve classmates were over the age of ten, yet they had been pulled out of bed in the middle of the night only to be rushed into their uniforms and out the door. Many had witnessed their parent’s solemn or confused expressions as their teacher took them away. Goodbyes were quick, and none knew when they would go home.

Like their teacher the children wore white button up shirts with black pants or short black skirts depending on their gender. A third of the children’s tops had holes cut in the back to allow small wings to poke through while another third had short horns protruding from their heads. Despite their clean uniforms the young ones were anything but organized. Some of their shirts were not tucked in while others were miss-buttoned. They moved through the night despite their disheveled appearance, their colorful eyes constantly shifting.

The thin trail snaked its way through the field only to slowly climb a hill. The group moved along it quickly, their hooves pounding softly in the dark. The mare led her charges up the rise before suddenly stopping short of the crest. She turned and crouched, placing her lantern on the ground next to her.

“Come here children.”

As if on cue the twelve young ponies scrambled into a tight cluster in front of their teacher.

“You are going to meet a stallion on top of the hill. He is… important. You must do as he says.”

The mare shifted her eyes slowly over her charges making sure to create eye contact with them all.

“What does he want?” Asked one of the bolder children, a filly with a dark grey coat and wings, deep blue eyes and a short black and purple mane.

“I don’t really know Pixie, but you just need to be brave. All of you.”

The teacher gave her student’s a stern gaze to force the point, and they returned with quick nods. A small tender smile appeared on the mare’s face as she rose after grabbing her lantern.

“Now move along.”

The children slowly walked by their teacher, their group splitting to move around her like water around a rock. The mare watched them move over the hill together before letting out a sad sigh. She did not know why the letter from the Crown ordered her to collect the twelve young ones, but the fact that they were chosen by name was as much of an indication as any that they were special. With a finial wave to one of the children who had lagged behind to initiate the farewell the mare began her long trek back into town.

The children moved cautiously up the incline before reaching the top. In front of them was a ring of long logs around a small campfire. The tall grass had been flattened to create a circle around the small camp, and the shadows cast by the flame danced upon those strands still standing proud on top of the rise. A single stallion sat on one of the logs, his back to the group. He wore clean cream colored robes that ran to the ground over a tight royal purple tunic. Holes were cut in the back of both garments to allow two massive gold colored wings to lay on the stallion’s back, and a long black mane that could touch the ground floated in an unfelt breeze. Wide, strong shoulders supported powerful arms as they rested on the stallion’s brown pant covered lap. A long black tail matching his mane poked through a small hole in the trousers, and his face was obscured as he looked up into the night as if he was counting stars.

The children approached slowly. They had never seen the stallion before, but his stature and regal bearing demanded as much respect as the young ones could comprehend. As soon as the group pierced the invisible barrier of the camp the stallion turned his head to lay his unflinching gaze upon the children. Dark hazel eyes scanned the young ones as they cringed under his stare. Like his wings the stallion’s coat was an almost shimmering gold, and his forehead supported a long horn of matching color.

“Hello children.” the stallion said with a soft yet powerful voice. “Please come sit.”

The stallion threw his legs over the log he rested on as he turned. While he did so the children moved into the camp and found seats, three to a log. For a long moment no one spoke as the fillies and colts fidgeted under the stallion’s eyes.

“I am sorry for bringing you up here so late,” apologized the stallion, “I am sure you are all very tired.”

One of the colts yawned in response, and the stallion chuckled as his assumption was found correct. His laugh was like rolling thunder yet soft to the ear.

“The true reasoning for your presence will be answered shortly, but first I must tell you a story.”

The children seemed to perk up to the promise of a tale, their tall ears becoming ridged.

“A story about what?” asked a colt with a powder blue mane, dark blue coat and wings and grey eyes.

“The Story of Man.”

The children looked confused.

“What is ‘Man’?” Asked the same colt, drawing another chuckle from the stallion.

“I will show you.”

With that the stallion’s horn began to glow as gold dust appeared to descend from the stars above to accumulate in his cupped hands. He brought the powder to his mouth, and with a great heave blew it over the fire. The dust swirled and shifted as the stallion’s purple magical current left his horn and formed it into a ball. With a slight pop the golden powder became ridged. The image of a night sky appeared on the dust, but the constellations did not match the ones above the group’s heads.

“Sixty thousand years ago on a planet known as Earth there was a race of beings called humanity. They were a young race then, struggling to survive on their planet. Among them there were thousands of special men and women called Shamans. They had the ability to be reincarnated into a different body when they died, retaining the knowledge of their past life, and had powers much like a unicorn. These powers were given to them due to, what some would say an unnatural, connection to a place called the Immaterium or Warp. The Warp is an alternate dimension of purely psychic energy that underlines our own. It is a vast ocean of chaotic energy, raw emotion given energetic and an often physical form. As humanity developed the Warp began to grow disturbed by the dark undercurrents of humanity's collective psyche. Beings that resided in the Warp began to feast on the souls of the reincarnating Shamans, and out of fear they convened to find a way to defend themselves.”

The picture on the dust changed to show thousands of furless bipedal beings dressed in brown cloaks with drawn hoods obscuring their faces. They stood in a green field under the same night sky that once covered the shimmering sphere.

“The Shamans decided that in order to survive and continue to protect humanity from the predators of the Warp they would have to pool their powers into one body. Together they drank poison and passed at the same time. Their souls flooded the Immaterium in a blinding flame of psychic power that burned away all those who wished to harm it. A few years later a boy was born with the collective souls of the Shamans. The boy’s psychic abilities were so powerful that his soul became immortal, a burning light in the Warp.”

The orb changed again to show a young man with long black hair, tan skin and an otherworldly glow around his person standing on a craggy outcropping. He wore simple fur clothing, but even with the plain garbs one could see the majesty of the boy. He stood without peer as wisdom permeated from his brown eyes.

“With the combined knowledge of every Shaman before him the boy grew into a man, and began to lead humanity away from the corruption of the Warp. He never took a defining role in the course of history, yet his influence could be felt across Earth as he acted from the shadows. With the passage of time the man gleaned more and more wisdom from his mind, and with that knowledge came a fear of the Immaterium. His fear was compounded when the number of men and women born with the ability to connect with the Warp grew steadily over the centuries. Their use of magic made them prime targets to host entities of the Warp, and when possessed they would sow destruction on a scale rarely seen.”

The orb changed for the third time to show a man standing upon a pile of corpses. His clothing was bloody and tattered and whipping in the wind created by a firestorm at his back. Red eyes and glowing glyphs of the same color were seen where the clothes were destroyed, and large black claws complimented the black horns on his head.

“Humanity survived these setbacks to advance with every generation. It wasn’t long before they were reaching off of their planet into the cold depths of space to explore, colonize and expand. They developed special engines that allowed ships to cut into the Warp, and these ships would sail on the ocean of souls to cross billions of light years in weeks. This type of rapid movement was not without its dangers however. The ships had to ride the calm currents of the Warp lest they be destroyed. Even with these hazards conjoined with countless wars, famines, plagues and disasters Man had finally not only become the masters of their home planet, but countless others. Yet even at this height in their existence humanity was not as safe as they thought, and through the actions of another race they fell into a galaxy wide depression that threatened their very existence.”

The picture on the orb shifted again as the children listened and watched with interest. The image now showed a tall pale woman with pointed ears, high cheek bones and a pronounced jaw line. She was thin, but her very presence screamed strength through finesse. Over her body were long green robes that hid the woman’s features and her elongated red hair was put into a clean ponytail.

“The race known as the Eldar was ancient even when humanity first became sentient. They were masters of the Warp and its nuances. With their powers they created the Webway, or a canal system through the Immaterium that one could walk without being harmed. The Eldar were a very long lived race, but this gift was also their curse. When individual Eldar grew older feelings that would overpower a normal human or pony would bore them. They soon began to push the limits of pain and pleasure in an aimless search for sensory input. Those with a clear head during that time called for the endless orgies of desire and agony to stop, but they were ignored. As the Eldar descended into beasts fueled by sensation a much more sinister being began to stir in the Warp. The accumulated emotion built up by the Eldar began to grow together into a being of such immense power that it would be classified as a god, and it disturbed the Warp immensely. These Warp Storms, as they were called, would tear a hole between the dimensions as well as turn the sea of emotion that is the Immaterium into an unnavigable mess. Humanity suffered as these storms destroyed every ship that crossed the dimensional gap, and they soon lost contact with each other. The individual planets fell prey to aliens, their own atmospheres or even each other. Humanity was at a breaking point, and would struggle on for five thousand years.”

Once again the orb changed to show humans clad in simple olive drab armor consisting of a chest plate, helmet and knee guards worn over brown shirts, pants and black boots fighting one another on a burnt out landscape. The battle was fierce as men leapt over trenches or ducked into craters. Their weapons spewed hot lead as they closed to fight with the butt of their rifles. The children were awe inspired by the gory scene.

“It was at this time when Earth was splintered that the man decided he must act, and as soon as the Warp Storms began to abide he did just that. Using his knowledge of genetics he grew super soldiers know as Thunder Warriors to help him conquer Earth in what was called the Unification Wars. The planet itself was a scarred nuclear wasteland that barely supported life, but the battle was still fierce as the war lords who had divided the planet up defended their holds. In the end the man won, his Thunder Warriors carrying the day. It was at this time that the man was given the name Emperor, and he accepted the mantle with a solemn heart. Millions of innocents had died in the unification of Earth, which had been renamed Terra, including the Thunder Warriors. It was believed that they all died in battle, but the truth is that the Emperor had them all culled due to their overly aggressive nature.”

The stallion let out a quiet sad sigh that the children did not hear.

“The Thunder Warriors sacrifice was not in vain however. The Emperor, in his fortress on top of the Himalayan Mountains, used what he had learned from his failed super soldiers along with some of his own genetic material to create twenty one sons. They would be his generals in his coming plan to reunite all of humanity while placing them as the dominant species in the galaxy through a massive military campaign called the Great Crusade. While these twenty one Primarchs were gestating in their pods the God of Chaos, powerful beings who resided in the Warp and fed on the emotions of the living, saw that their power would wane if the Emperor could release his sons. The gods broke past every psychic ward the Emperor had placed to defend the lab under his fortress before casting the Primarchs across the galaxy. Distraught at the loss of his sons the Emperor used what genetic material was left to turn ordinary Terran males into a new breed of super soldier called Space Marines.”

The orb now showed the image of one such warrior. He was massive, both tall and wide. Over his entire body was blue armor characterized by large shoulder pauldrons trimmed in gold and a backpack with exhaust vents. His entire person was covered from a helmet with blood red eyes on his head to massive boots on his feet. The soldier stood proud with his stockless rifle in his hands.

“With his soldiers ready the Emperor set off into the galaxy to initiate his Great Crusade. One by one planets once controlled by humanity were brought back into the fold either through force or diplomacy creating the Imperium of Man. As the Emperor’s endless Space Marine Legions and Imperial Army burned their way across the galaxy nineteen out of the twenty one Primarchs were recovered, and they were placed at the head of the Legion that carried their specific genetics. With his sons returned to him, the crusade effectively at its peak and the atheistic Imperial Truth dictating the whole Imperium the Emperor decided to return to Terra and begin several massive secret projects to further advance humanity. He placed his favorite son and Primarch of the Luna Wolves Space Marine Legion, Horus, as the Warmaster of the Great Crusade. This turned out to be a grave mistake however. Horus, and nine of his brothers, had been exposed to the Warp when they were stolen away nearly two centuries prior. Angered that the Emperor would abandon the Great Crusade for reasons he had not been told Horus was open for corruption, and with relative ease he turned. Horus convinced half of his fellow Primarchs to turn on the Emperor, releasing their inner corruption. So began the seven year long Horus Heresy, where brother fought brother and the Imperium was brought to its knees.”

A scene akin to the one depicting old Earth formed on the orb, but instead of regular humans the armored giants were clashing. Their colorful armor was dented and scared as blood from their foes ran in rivers under their feet. Intermingled in the fight between Space Marines were regular humans combatting against their fellow man. They wore the same olive drab armor of old save for the lack of knee pads and a new pair of shoulder plates over khaki colored clothing. When a human met with the giants the latter would win, and the sight of a man being literally ripped in half showed that the Space Marine was supreme on the battle field.

“The Horus Heresy ended after the Battle of Terra where Horus and his chaotic armies laid siege to the Emperor’s fortress for 55 days. With the news of Loyalist forces coming to reinforce the beleaguered defenders Horus dropped the shields on his flag ship to allow the Emperor, two of his sons, Sanguinius of the Blood Angels Space Marine Legion and Rogal Dorn of the Imperial Fists Space Marine Legion, several companies of Space Marines, and most of the Emperor’s bodyguard to teleport up to the massive ship. If this action was planned by Horus or not no one knows, but when the boarding party landed they were scattered all over the decks. The Emperor fought his way to the bridge in the hopes of reuniting with his boarding party only to find Sanguinius dead at Horus’s feet.”

A fire grew in the stallion’s eyes as his voice became rough.

“Horus called the Emperor weak for not turning to Chaos, but the Emperor saw that the Chaos Gods has trapped his favored son. With words being futile the battle commenced between the two powerful humans. The Emperor, not able to overcome his love for his son, did not bring his full might to the duel as both steel and mind clashed. The Emperor paid for his restraint as his chest armor was split. Next his jugular and the tendons in his right wrist were severed. Unable to defend himself the Emperor received a psychic blow to the face, searing his flesh and destroying one of his eyes. Horus then pulled the Emperor’s right arm from its socket, picked up the bloody body of his father and dropped him on his knee. The Emperor’s back was broken, his body destroyed and his mind flayed.”

The stallion let out a sigh as his apparent rage subsided. The children didn’t notice as they watched with rapt attention.

“When it appeared that the Emperor had lost a single member of his bodyguard entered the bridge. Horus showed the golden clad Space Marine the defeated Emperor, and in a blind rage the bodyguard charged Horus. With ease Horus destroyed the Space Marine with a psychic blast. The Emperor now realized that his beloved son was gone forever, and without holding back released his nearly unlimited psychic power onto Horus. Horus was destroyed in mind, body and soul.”

With saddened eyes the stallion paused for a moment to breathe heavily.

“What happened next?!” Asked an exited filly with a pink coat and horn, a yellow mane and bright blue eyes.

The stallion recomposed himself before smiling.

“With Horus gone the Chaos tainted Space Marine Legions and their allies fled from Terra. In their wake they left depopulated worlds, covered in the scars of war.”

The orb’s image changed to show a planet littered with black dead trees, craters, grey dirt and white bones. A single carrion bird flew through the grey sky in search for food.

“Over time the Loyalists pushed the traitors into a giant persistent Warp Storm called the Eye of Terror, but the damage was done. The Emperor was mortally wounded, but he was quickly moved after the Battle of Terra to a special device called the Golden Throne. There his mind was kept alive to keep the shining light of his soul burning to guide those who moved through the chaotic Warp. With the Imperium on the verge of destruction the faithful Primarchs led in the Emperor’s stead before they too disappeared or fell in battle. Without the great minds of their protectors the Imperium began to stagnate. The Imperial Truth that preached science and atheism was replaced with the Imperial Cult which preached god like worship of the Emperor. Blinded by religious intolerance and superstition the Imperium stumbled through its own survival for thousands of years, unable and unwilling to change, until a drastic series of events came from the discovery of a small planet.”

The stallion paused for effect, a small smile on his face. One of the colts, who had been leaning forward to far, slipped off of his log to face plant in the grass, but the other children ignored him until they couldn’t stand the wait any longer.

“What happened?!” Exclaimed a spread winged Pixie.

“They found Equestria.”