Night Haunter Reborn

Paranoid. Just. Sadist. Haunted. Nightmarish. Regretful. Mentally unwell.

A reborn son of the Emperor of mankind. A viscous skaven primarch warlord hunts the scum of a oceanic world to bring justice at all costs. One flaying at a time. For peace is brought by fear and the night haunter forgives none.

It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of His inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the vast Imperium of Man for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day so that He may never truly die.

Yet even in His deathless state, the Emperor continues His eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the Warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defense forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the Tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat to humanity from aliens, heretics, mutants -- and far, far worse.

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

There was once a plan, to make the greatest champions mankind had ever seen by the Emperor himself. 20 souls would be born from this project, 2 would be stricken off the record and destroyed, while the 18 others would be stolen from their father by the chaos gods and sent all across the galaxy to buy time. One of these pods whistled through the void as it began to descend towards it's owner's new "Home" one that would forever break him and leave him twisted.

Nostromo. A planet cloaked in constant darkness because of it's blocked son. Pollution running rampant. A planet of hellish crimes taking place every night by its nobility's thugs and backed crime lords. This is where the pod would rocket down like a meteorite. Slamming deep into the surface of the forever midnight planet as it dug its way deep into the core. His name would be Konrad Curze. Plagued by visions that left him in agony of his father placed in a throne of pain, of a civil war that would break out across the stars and of his death at the hands of a assassin sent to punish him. He would find this horrid world Nostromo to be his cradle.

His first acts on this world was clawing his way to freedom for days until he finally left his pod's impact crater. Fully entering the city. A demi god amongst humans being a primarch. Konrad was born with advanced knowledge and a strange genetically embedded list of laws in his mind. Only lacking what his purpose here was. Why was he sent here in a world clad in perpetual darkness? Unlike many of his other stolen brothers. Konrad was not taken in. Konrad instead was forced to live on the rainy streets of Nostromo, eating rats. And often many of the human corpses that were left from a gang massacre. His lullabies were the screams of the innocent as gangsters brutalized the populations. The only thing worse then the murders on Nostromo was the suicides.

He realized just how different he was from this world. And fully accepted the purpose of bringing it into order by any means necessary. His first attempts at scaring criminals into submission seemed decent. Yet they would just reoffend once it wore off. He then went to amputation. Cutting off limbs, fingers. Taking a eye. Yet often they would just find a bionic replacement. Then he went to just killing them. Which ended their crimes permanently but did not affect the others. A dead body on Nostromo was not exactly sensational news. That is when he realized that he would need to make sure others knew that he was watching. That he would know they had sinned against their fellow man.

His next attempt was torture. Both mental and psychological. Making the criminal feel hunted. Taking away friends from them. Before moving into the kill. Brutally flaying them and leaving their bodies for their peers to find. When hundreds of criminals start going missing. Finally the crime lords of Nostromo noticed something was punishing them. As impaled bodies of murderers were left on arrays. Hung meat hooks with the flesh of slavers. Radio transmissions would pick up the screams of the damned as Konrad took their lives. Slow and painful. Finally crime stunted. The whispers of a creature known as the Night Haunter finally broke out. Something that would hunt down the wicked if they dared step out of line on his world. The gangsters that dared brave the dark to put him down would go back to their masters blind and disfigured by wounds. Carrying the threats of night haunter whispered into their ear to their masters.

Konrad finally found something that worked. True fear. And he would use this to bring justice. One should not think konrad was exactly some morbid saint however. Being on a midnight hell like Nostromo had completely warped him. While other worlds would of fell in line. Nostromo had damaged his already fragile sanity to the point he began to like his punishments against the wicked. The sheer horror of it at first was just a unfortunate job that needed to be done. Then that feeling became enjoyment. He quite liked punishing those who believed they were beyond the law. That he could be the thing they feared when they hurting his people. Yet those were the easy ones for him. Konrad's damaged mind grew to interpret that ALL crime needed to be punished and made a example of. Even crimes against ones self. One of these incidents that actually made him stop and question his philosophy, was when he saved a woman from taking her own life. Konrad had never actually stopped a suicide in time so when he finally did, his mind raced with questions of what was just, of what was not. Yet Konrad finally made his choice, he took her flesh all the same flaying her alive. This act would be the start of many haunting questions that would bother him. Another would be when he stopped a assault in the streets, tracking down the young man who attempted to flee, Konrad for once however had a idea, the man had no father figure, bastards were sadly typical in Nostromo society due to many women ending up enslaved by the gangs for horrid purposes. A vision not like the others came to him as he cornered the man. Images of him raising and teaching this one to be his disciple of justice. Of allowing him to gain his own following and to spread the Night Haunter's truth of the law in his time, and of being by the man's bed side when he passed. Comforting his surrogate son. However, a darker vision took hold of the man hiding a weapon and striking him for his offer, of the crime lords promoting the man and realizing that if the night haunter bleeds, they can kill him. Konrad mistaking the vision for reality would tear the man to pieces only to stop when he realized that there was no weapon anywhere near him. His just mind cried out that he had made a mistake, his paranoid mind reasoned that it was better this way. That the fear of the night haunter was more important then the chance to be loved.

The crime lords were next, many of their best body guards already having been butchered by the night haunter. So when he made his promise a reality, no lord was safe. No matter how many thugs they put between him and them. Finally Konrad would arrive to their meeting chambers. Giving them his demands. Bow to him. Or they wouldn't leave the chambers. Some resisted and would be left in pieces by the night haunter's blades. The others kneeled quicky. And for once Nostromo new peace and equality under their new dark king. The other cities following as the world fell into the blood soaked hand of its just master.

Soon while they lived in peace. The rain of the world finally stopped as Konrad's vision of his father decending down came true. As the night haunter would meet his creator. The Emperor of Mankind. And soon the eighth primarch was reunited with his family and his legion.

Konrad's power would expand to his legion of space marines. His Night Lords. And when a group of rebels went against his father. Konrad would punish them just as he did with the criminals. Blocking out the sun of entire worlds as he left them bloodsoaked. His night lords following their dark father's wishes. But Konrad's visions of a brutal war within the imperium continued however. Driving him madder. Only made worse as most of his fellow primarchs saw him as a feral creature that killed for no reason other then his. Konrad saw them as soft despite not hating any of them besides his brother corax who he saw as a more "Sane" Copy of himself. However their words kept in his mind. Could they have been right? This question only began to worsen when he was sent into a berserk state. Killing one of his servants, the first "innocent" person he slayed. The situation only got worse when his brother fulgrim, being one of the only ones to show him kindness told his other brother Rogal about the visions. Shattering Curze's trust and causing him to become manic.

What made this worst however was when he realized that his new recruits from Nostromo weren't the noble bloodied warriors like he requested. But violent criminals and sadists using his teachings for fun. He brutally reaved through his sons. And realized that during the campaigns Nostromo had once again fell into corruption. The crime lords had lost their fear of him. And Konrad's ship soon rushed back as he made his choice to end Nostromo's suffering. Purging the planet completely and leaving silence in its wake,

By then the Horus heresy finally kicked off, and the primarchs would choose their sides, Konrad siding with his war master brother over his father.

What followed was a brutal war with Curze becoming more psychotic with each attempt to stalwart the loyalist dogs of his father. However he would surprisingly be captured by the loyalist though it was a hard fought campagin with Konrad being hard to actually keep captive, but finally when they captured him the last time, they finally got the information out of their demented brother. And while the loyalists questioned if they should just kill Konrad to stop him from being a issue, the vision of Konrad dying to a imperial assassin made them to decide to hold onto him, His brothers finally saw what Konrad was, a horrifically warped being, broken beyond repair. There was a "Good" man in konrad, however whatever insanity had stricken him fully chained him to his fate. Sangunius having the same affliction of seeing the future, gave Konrad the ultimate gift, and put him in stasis shooting him out into space, far away from any executioners so that Konrad would face his death knowing that he was right, that he was to die by a assassin's hand from his father's empire for his sins.

When Konrad finally reappeared in the galaxy. He was different when taking back control of the nightlords, he picked fights knowing that he could lose, as he was not seeking to win, but rather to find the assassin that would end his agony and to vindicate his memory. Finally the female Callidus M'shen would find the demented primarch with a statue made of human meat that was shaped to be the emperor. As Konrad welcomed her happily, having waited a long time for it, Konrad put up no fight when his life was taken. Finally feeling peace.

The story did not end for the primarch however. The psyker energy that had plagued him for most of his life, transferred into a new vessel on a large oceanic world of Styx which cities were more like large promethium rigs. Going to grow not into a pure human. But into a skaven. A rat like being. To some, these skaven were abhumans. Humans that grew in the dark and became rat like after so long to survive. To others these weren't human at all. but a mutant species that grew from mankind's pollution.

The World of Styx was ironically like Nostromo. The light blocked out, yet not by a dying star, but a massive never ending typhoon that constantly flooded the world. The cities are situated on platforms, often equipped to draw out the promethium deposits from the planets ocean floor to give to the imperium. Most of the human population are workers for the rigs, while the nobility and governors are often harsh pushing their workers to the limits and occasionally sending thugs to bully the population if they stepped out of line. The lower levels of the city was also not welcoming as the Skaven clans of Styx were just as harsh to their own workers, even if they had no tithes to the imperium. There mistake however was killing a female skaven which had been carrying the child of a skaven warlord whose rivals had finally ended him and his bloodline. But the child tore its way out of its mother's corpse into the harsh world

Whatever the reason was. The Spirit of Curze infested the mind of a coffin birthed whelp that was thrown out into the cold of Styx by the clans, left to die. Yet he survived, the spirit turning the half dead starving ratling into the closes thing a Skaven could get to a primarch. The ratling survived and grew. And while he could not remember his human life at the beginning, a name was whispered into his visions, Which he took for himself when he could finally think, Con-rat Curze. Growing up a clanless skaven was hard, having to survive both humanity that patrolled the surface of the platforms of the cities and the skaven that were bunkered down in the lower levels of the cities. Yet Con-Rat did as his predecessor, and struggled his way to the top. Viscously punishing both human and skaven. Guided by the voice in his head. Con-rat growing taller then even his warlord father brutally flayed the human nobility's dogs and viscously punished both societies sins. Brutally taking control of the skaven colony of Styx, using the pipe networks as his hunting grounds and his lairs. Now a warlord. The Primarch Skaven finally gained back his demented memories. Yet his mind is quite fit by skaven standards. something he uses to his advantage to correct his past mistakes. Finally gaining a army of disciples to rid his new home world of its corruption.

Founding a new clan, The Night Stalkers. A loyal war like clan based on their own version of brutal justice used by the original night lords. The Night Stalkers seek to completely take over the world with their methods, using the worker's hatred against the nobility to allow Con-rat to rule over both societies with his clan rising above to take their place on the surface truly, His new visions show a larger skaven like him arriving once again, A grey seer of untold power when the time is right, And something tells him that somehow, this skaven will be the reborn Emperor of mankind. Father and Son reunited under a new banner of the oncoming vermintide that will wipe the slate clean. Yet for now he waits, and he flays.

Con-Rat's personality shows a mentally rattled creature, The spirit of Curze still lives in him, even with the new form. and like Curze, his moral compass is still struggling to stop spinning. He does have a sense of justice, yet his paranoia can warp it into something far darker. He has at least gotten better with the recruitment of his fellow skaven to form the night stalkers. He now knows not to rely on the visions that flood his mind, that sometimes they are corrupted by his paranoia to the point that he can make mistakes. He can hold his murderous tendencies back enough to not kill anyone to see how things play out. However in some ways his bad habits got worse, as he still collects the skins to make leather cloaks for his storm vermin or build weird bone meat charms, made from both human and skaven criminals. Yet unlike humanity, skaven often see that as a way to survive, so in a way Curze feels happily at home with his new people. There is however a softer side to Curze, one that genuinely wishes for kindness. While these moments were rare in his human life, as they are rare now. Curze can grow quiet when someone is actually nice to him, however the betrayal of Fulgrim shows that if his heart "Breaks" His murderous side can come out tenfold and can cause him issues.

Even as a newly formed Skaven, he has the traits of the man that came before. Being completely unwell. His skaven side is much more prone to their excitement as he has pretty much embraced them as his true people instead of humanity, his eyes getting big, cackles leaving him or viscous angry screams of rage where it slips through. He can go from speaking softly, to viscous horrific screeches of war.

Con-rat is very fancy for the usual nervous skaven. Still the speech impediment of the skaven still affects him. as he can repeat synonyms along the first worlds. Saying things like Stab-Gut. The skaven side of his brain getting confused on what he wished to say, though he has learned to work with this since most skaven has this, and they do understand what he means. His voice is a bit shrill like a skaven's yet still has his rasp from his human life.

Con-rat like his previous human form, is quite tall as a skaven. Towering over many of the rat people. His fur is a pale blue, much paler then most skaven. His hair being a black long messy mane that descends down his back. Being just as grody as a skaven as he was as a human. His eyes are a hateful orange that can glow in the dark. He has a front ratlike tooth that hangs from his top mouth, his rat like nose a pale pink. And his long flexible tail nearly pure white. He has the image of the god of the skaven's the horned rat, having black 8 horns that curve back from his head. Though his new armor is a midnight blue set of power armor with gold patterns across the shoulders and legs. With skaven carvings. A red cloak draped across his shoulders. Guilty human and skaven skulls decorate it, And each of his gauntlets have two long blades that he brutally uses as weapons and torture tools.

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