This page details people, events, and organisations from Warmasters Triumvirate, a fan re-working of the Warhammer 40,000 Universe. See the Warmasters Triumvirate page for more information on the Alternate Universe.
Marduk Engur, Warmaster of Chaos, Primarch of the Ist Legiones Astartes; the Leviathan Host. Known among his brothers as both an exemplary leader for his legion and confidante for any who sought him out, beneath his gilt exterior simmered a coldness and mercilessness that could rival the void itself. Once, he might have been the pinnacle of the Emperor's sons, had not his own vision of mankind's future ultimately brought him to the embrace of the Ruinous Powers. That ideal would ultimately swallow him whole and shatter the Imperium for all time.
Torn from his gene-sire's laboratories by the powers of Chaos, the pod that contained the Primarch who would be known as Marduk Engur came to fall upon the once proud world of Dagon. Plunging through the oceanic Death World's storm wracked skies and crashing into it's black churning seas, Marduk Engur's "birth" proved a fittingly tempestuous herald for his deeds to come. His stasis pod was fished from the waters by humble fisherfolk who had followed the trail left by what they thought to be a falling star. Upon finding an infant within, the fishers prostrated themselves and brought the child to their home, a rusting ancient derrick-fortress and the only kind of land Dagon knew. There, they brought him before their elders who decreed that the boy would become their savior and christened him Marduk Engur. Their prophecy seemed to be more and more accurate by each passing month as the boy grew preternaturally both physically and mentally, soon surpassing the greatest in the tribe in both aspects. At first, they taught him their ways and what primitive little they knew of combat, but before his fourth birthday Marduk had begun instructing them. He taught his tribe better ways to hunt and catch on the water, how to navigate more successfully, and how to defend themselves more fiercely. Marduk's people prospered greatly, but their prosperity drew the attention of hungry eyes.
Hearing of the prosperity of the derrick, pirates were drawn like sharks to chum. In the beginning Marduk would fight the raiders alone, cutting them down in droves, but eventually they proved too many and too well armed for even him. He rallied his people into a fighting force, taking to the water pre-emptively to strike back at their enemies. They won, time and time again, but the raiders were not ones to be rebuked from such a prize. They rallied themselves into a massive armada and laid siege to the derrick. This siege went on for two years before it was finally broken, Marduk's tribe taking on all the ships and loot from their enemies. Their warriors hardened, their coffers and stores stuffed, and their reputation now legendary, Marduk's people entered what could be considered a sort of barbarian golden age. They lived comfortably, without fear of conflict or need. This, like their initial growth, could not last in such a world as Dagon but the hunger they drew this time was ancient, savage, and unstoppable.
One morning, Marduk was interrupted in a session of holy meditation by the distraught elders. They took him to the upper decks of the derrick, pointing to the horizon. There, Marduk saw what at first appeared to be an island or perhaps an enormous rogue wave before it became clear what it truly was. As it dawned on him, Marduk's features hardened. It was an enormous Leviathan, a beast larger than any ship or derrick and considered sacred by the people of Dagon. They were rarely seen, almost fading into legend between each appearance, but greatly feared. They made meals of the great oceanic beasts and, it was told, when they did rise to the surface they could devour entire tribes in a single night. Marduk knew what this one was coming to do and gathered his people as quickly as possible. He had prepared for the most dire of situations, though he had never believed those plans would be needed. The people would be loaded onto their warships and evacuated from the derrick, knowing full well it likely never be returned to.
Panic nearly overcame the tribe as they rushed to prepare, the Leviathan's bulk growing on the horizon by every passing hour. Even Marduk's adamantine will was tested as he realized the beast was approaching far faster than the people could have anticipated. Sacrifices began to be made, luxuries were eschewed in favor of weapons or food and even then they simply would not have enough supplies to tend to all their people. Marduk knew grave measures would have to be taken, but the survival of his tribe depended on it.
By nightfall, the god monster was upon them. The tribe scrambled to their escape ships as it's coils began to wrap around the legs of the derrick. They pushed off in terror even as some screaming stragglers were left on board. Some smaller vessels were dragged down into the deep by the beast's tendrils and those who fell into the water were torn apart by krill-sharks, following the Leviathan like sea birds after a fishing ship. Through this nightmare, Marduk led his people stoically and when the derrick was crushed under the Leviathan's great coils he was the only one among the survivors who could bear to watch it sink beneath the waves.
For a time, his people drifted without direction as Marduk conferred with the elders about the best possible course of action. This process was slowed by the fact Marduk rarely left his private chambers for a time, spending hours in dark contemplation. Such a great tragedy, he believed, could not have come from nothing. He brooded like this for days, until a night came when the sea was disgustingly still. He went to the top deck, alone in the gloom, and peered into the inky deeps. Except, this night, they were not the inky depths he was accustomed to. Something shimmered, deep below. The shimmer called to him like a siren and it was without a single hesitation he leapt into the brine.
Diving deeper than any man had ever done previously, he began to feel the weight of the cold darkness about him. Hundreds of metres down, his superhuman physique was strained to it's absolute limits and he was crushed by the sea above him, yet the light beckoned him on. In those nighted depths, Marduk found the light's source. A glittering city stretched before him upon the ocean's depths, dreamlike and luminous. Marduk used what little remained of his strength to find his way inside that twilight city and discover what mystery had called him there. On the water's surface, the tribe panicked as they realized what had happened. They sobbed and prayed, not knowing what had come upon their messiah in the night. Their prayers were answered, however, when Marduk finally pulled himself back aboard. Dripping, with a strange blade clasped in his hand, his presence did not reassure his people at first. Instead, they were terrified, as he bore a new aspect on his face. An aspect of conviction, as cold and hard as the depths he had just come from.
He told his people of the city he had found and of the revelation he had therein. The Leviathan had been a destroyer, yes, but it was more than that. It was a divine messenger, come to shatter their soft coddled existence. They had became placid and would have degenerated had they been left to stagnate. The Leviathan had come to show them a new way, a hard way, a true way. A way of violence and turmoil, that would forge the greatest civilization Dagon had ever known. Marduk rallied his people, preaching this new ideal, this Abyssal Faith. What, exactly, Marduk had seen in that sunken city that brought him to these great revelations he would never say, though it had clearly shaken him to his very core.
It was only a matter of weeks before word began to spread among the derricks and nomad fleets of Dagon. There was a new terror on the waters. Reavers, savage beyond any that had previously come. They laid waste to any peaceable folk they found, leaving only starved refugees and burning hulks in their wake. Of pirates and raiders, they incorporated or annihilated. This new menace, it was said, flew under flag none had ever seen before, yet they all recognized. A Leviathan, monstrous and coiling, born aloft with skulls and plundered gold. A decade later, the people of Dagon had been transformed. Instead of the islets of tribes trading and grazing together, harassed by scavenging pirates, it was a churning cauldron of war. Every tribe had become warlike and savage, breeding ever greater warriors to do battle. At the top of this food chain of bloodshed were those same Leviathan bearing flags flitting above the decks of a great dreadnought warship. On those decks stood Marduk Engur, finally meeting with the Emperor of Mankind, receiving news of his true destiny. He was a Primarch and he would soon rejoin his long estranged gene-sons in conquering the galaxy for Mankind. Marduk accepted this destiny eagerly, for he had begun to feel a gnawing within him at the state of his homeworld and it's people, a gnawing that not even the fires of the Great Crusade would ever truly distract from.