House Karanov

**House Karanov** is a Daemon Knight house that evokes extreme dread to all those who hear the name. It has echoed through the millennia, trapped in the deep confines of the warp until it was eventually released again into the galaxy, seeking what has been taken from them. They are, with their dark lord Vremyamir, a force that ever-consumes any world that would buckle before their fearsome might.

## History

### Visage of the Past

The house of Karanov would only come to be after a dark spot in the otherwise noble house Glouran would reveal itself. From even during the Great Crusade, the noble house fought honorably against the foes of humanity, fighting for both Emperor and Warmaster. When the later revealed his great and terrible Heresy, the world of Pradesa would side firmly on the loyalist side. Every Knight of every house reaffirmed their oaths to the Empire, and vowed to fell all those who would defy them.

All, save, Knight Chitan; the Baron-Prince of house Glouran.

To prevent his son's dark thoughts from spreading to the rest of his house, Baron Orvan killed his own son while the later was away from his suit; leaving not but a smudge on the floors of the house Sanctuary with the suit's chainweapon. Needing every suit they had in the horrible war, Orvan gave the honors of the suit of his late son to his daughter Margarita, who despite constantly hearing her brother's anguished wails through the throne mechanicum, piloted her suit with all the honor that was expected of their house. At the end of that horrible Heresy, the suit was locked away in the Sanctuary, the stain of its familiar sins too great for the now-Baroness Margarita to bear.

### The Remembrance

Nearly five Millennia after the Horus Heresy, the suit of Baron-Prince Chitan would again see service, with its dark past now forgotten as it was intentionally left out of record. To the new pilots of the suit, the hint of treacherous thoughts that birthed from bondage with the throne mechanicum were ignored, considered to be their own hidden cravenous tendencies. It wasn't until the suit was finally chosen by another Baron-Prince, of Chitan's own line, that the true nature of the heretical harboring of betrayal could be more fully understood.

Baron-Prince Vremyamir was the fourth son of Baron Zetkar's 16 children. As per Pradesa tradition, he served in the officer core of the Imperial guard for five years before being able to choose a Knight suit for himself. That day his house called for him to return, however, was at the climax of a fierce three-year crusade against a xenos empire, and Vremyamir was denied the glory of seeing that campaign through to the end. At the age of 19, however, he was finally to undergo the Ritual of Becoming. And the only Knight worthy of his choosing was that which, for not until recently, was deprived of service.

. Upon his ascension to his throne, Baron-Prince Vremyamir traveled millennia back in time, seeing things by all accounts he shouldn't have. He heard the dark words of a voice now gone from existence speak to someone with a name unknown to him, yet he could only feel as though those words were directed to him.

> "You have served me well, Orvan. You have served my legion, my sons, very well. Your service honors your house, yet I know your house does not honor your service as well as it should. You have a great power in you, Orvan; a power that goes beyond your Knight. That power deserves to take what it is owed. The Emperor has betrayed us, His sons, and now I must carve out that blasphemous tyrant off of His throne. I would have you carve your own kingdom out of that hypocritical empire of His, which will soon be mine. Join me, and I will ensure your kingdom will eclipse anything your blind father could ever dream of."
>
>

Unspoken, Vremyamir immediately swore fealty to this soundless voice.

In the oncoming wars against the xenos and chaos cults led by unimaginative amateurs, Vremyamir gained fame amongst his fellow bannermen, as his Knight responded eagerly to his every command as though it were his own blood and bone. The long stream of blood tailing the Baron-Prince's path was praised in the Emperor's name, though it was in offering to another master. A master whom Vremyamir learned more and more of with every campaign against the heretic. Soon, the very heir of the Knight House of Glouran would be betrothed to the upcoming Baron-Knight, the fair Princess Piersefona; with her gene-locked Castellan suit to boot.

But Vremyamir had no plans of bringing honor to his house murked in betrayal to its own. in secret hooded meetings with only his most trusted fellow Scions, Vremyamir would mark the day that he would cut all bonds between him and House Glouran, with his closest friends by his side. He twisted the meanings of honor and oaths in their minds, which twisted their hearts against the infuriated choir of their ancestors' shames. But the leading flame that guided them through the torrents within their throne mechanicums was the undeniable truth that they were to serve the true son of Chitan. They would right a wrong millennia in the making.

### Betrayal at The Shroud

Due to the oaths sworn by House Glouran to the realm of Ultramar, many Knights would answer the call to join Chapter Master Maxellus of the Ultramarines, in his campaign against an oncoming Ork invasion from the galactic south. Vremyamir himself would personally head one of the two lances that voyaged the stars towards the rear of The Shroud warp-rift. This would make his father uneasy, for many at the court of Pradesa mused that already the young Vremyamir prepared for his father's death, for he now heads a Baronial Court of his own choosing. In any case, the other lance was headed by the Princess Piersefona, with her two fellow Scions chosen personally by her Queen mother. The two lances embarked on the Defiant-class Light Cruiser *Harpsong,* which already was organized by both Vremyamir and his Heretek ally Desparcenes to mutiny for Vremyamir's cause. However, feeling overshadowed by his son, Baron Zetkar sent his own personal Dictator-class cruiser *Doratus* as escort; a large, sturdy vessel from even before the Great Crusade which has been rebuilt on seven momentous occasions for extra flight decks and firepower. By and all an extravagant effort to send in against the Ork threat, but nonetheless a reminder of Zetkar's own personal presence to the realm of Ultramar, while he and High Queen Mietra found their own glory on the battlefield of another world.

As the ship entered warp-space, the voidsmen loyal to Desparcenes at once raised their arms against their former masters, and those still loyal to the Mechanicus. Vremyamir's two loyal Scions Valdym and Sepana, in addition to their Armiger pilots and voidsmen, managed to catch their fellow Scions while they were unaware what was happening, and held them captive. Locking them in their quarters under the Armiger pilots' guard, the traitor Scions and their mutineers, on foot as they were, continued their path of blood through each and every deck; curiously moving all surrendering elements into one flight deck by Vremyamir's own command.

By this point, the Navigators on the Harpsong already sent word to the Doratus that a mutiny was underway; and though they did not know how many Scions were involved, there were in fact some that fell traitor. The helmsmen of the Doratus knew full well that once both ships exited the warp, it would be their duty to deactivate the ship through combat and rescue what few surviving Scions remained loyal, if not only recover their priceless Knights. They were sure that at the very least, the son of Zetkar would have the sheer will alone to lead whatever small element of resistance existed on the Harpsong; but in support of that, the Doratus' great weaponry and docks of attack craft would be able to overpower their smaller enemy.

To their horror, they would soon see the fruits of Vremyamir's secret grand plan.

In the very last seconds within the warp, the Harpsong's gellar fields were deactivated, and the densest clusters of souls attracted a menagerie of daemonkind. The loyalist voidsmen herded to the flight deck were in effect sacrificed to beings of sheer warp essence, and where the blood of their devoured bodies were splattered on the ship's attack craft, the runes of bondage were rendered.

Once they entered realspace, the Doratus immediately were hailed by daemoncraft which shrugged all but the most powerful of their weaponry, or otherwise shifted in and out of realspace in unforeseeable patterns as they closed in and shattered the crafts of mortal men. Weapon platforms were jammed by the stuff of nightmares while their crews suffered aneurisms from unthinkable colors dancing in their ears. Without understanding the truth of their betrayal, all of the crewmen now serving the Harpsong signed their souls to beings of a hellish plane, and to preserve what remained of their time in this existence they could do nothing but bow to their new master as the cries of thousands of their fellow voidsman howled even through the airless void, the betrayed wails of their kin echoing deeply into their minds.

#### Escape for False Hope

Piercefona's Scions, seeing the carnage unfold now that the vis-shields from the ship were deactivated, were horrified by the sight ufolding. Together, they managed to kill their captors and make their way to the escape pods located at the end of the Harpsong; leaving their suits as forfeit, seeing as they had no use for them in the close confines of the ship. It is said Piercefona shed a tear for having to leave not only Vremyamir's no-doubt dead body behind, but also the Castellan which served her family for millennia. Nevertheless, they would embark on the daring escape to the world of False Hope.

By the time word came to Vremyamir of their escape, it was believed to be too late to capture them again. What thinly-spread voidsmen lay between them and the escape pods, by nature of the gellar-gamble, could not reliably manage to stop the warparty as they made their path for escape. What attack craft they had were now locked in fearsome feast of the now-dead Doratus, and even if they would reroute to stop the speedy escape craft, they would more likely destroy the shuttle than bring it back with the Scions entact enough to swear loyalty to Vremyamir.

Despite the numbers, Piercefona and her retainers fought through the heretical voidsmen with all the faith and honor they could muster; firing with finely crafted handguns and deflecting blows with their fast swordsmanship tempered by a lifetime of training and war. Though a few of their Armiger pilots fell, the loyalist Scions were in sight of the escape craft; a grenade's throw away from freedom.

As soon as they dared hope, they could feel explosions in ever-increasing intensity getting closer to their position. They could not believe it, but the Doratus must have had one weapon yet active; firing at their killers in a last act of defiance. Where the Scions could only feel strong at heart to know that the Doratus yet defied the heretic, the few remaining Armiger pilots cursed that the loyalists chose this moment to finally make their last stand. Nonetheless, all gathered what energy they still had to sprint the few remaining steps to freedom.

It was when they finally entered the shuttle that they learned the true nature of the explosions.

A sudden great hand of metal pierced through the shuttle and tore open the hull. As the loyalist retinue were exploded into space by the escaping gust of air, Vremyamir's Knight-hand grabbed the floating Scions before they could be cast adrift in the airless void. All, save, for Princess Armietra; sister-Knight of Piercefona. At that very moment, Piercefona fully realized not only that Vremyamir orchestrated this entire betrayal, but that he also was the one who doomed her sister to the void. The princesses' last moment together was one of asphyxiation; and though for one that would be her last moment, for the other the feeling of suffocation would never escape the rest of her days.

### Dark Oath

Once the surviving escapees were again secured, their holdings would become much worse than those of their quarters. Unexpectedly, the corruption from contact with the daemonic engines had continuously spread, and the loyalist Scions were to be kept in the brig, which whispered sweet nothings into all who stepped forth.

The Heretek priest Desparcenes congratulated the Scion he struck dark accord with, praising the ship which was by right now his. Though Vremyamir appologized for the corruption, Desparcenes told him that the daemonic additions were, if anything, improvements that could be worked upon more. Navigator Yagani of the ship, now held by las-point by the new masters of the ship, pleaded for his life; offering his loyalty and service for his continued life- to which Vremyamir grinned.

After a Terran day within these confines, the Scions would be given a chance by Vremyamir to pledge allegiance and join his dark house. The price of refusing this offer would be their deaths. Knight-Scion Gastov would refuse outright, challenging Vremyamir to a duel; a duel he would lose. Upon Gastov's death, Vremyamir again gave his offer, reminding the Armiger-Scions that now Gastov's knight lay on the table. This was enough to convince the two to bend their knees; as though they were nobility, they would never have been given the chance of claiming a proper Knight by sheer fact of their blood.

And still, Piercefona refused. Though she challenged Vremyamir to a duel, he refused this honor of her, and left.

The new additions to the dark circle of Vremyamir's new house were cause of question from those already sworn to him. Not only were they not of the right blood, daring to claim the Knight of someone by all accounts their betters, but they were not too long ago sworn against them. And then not long after that, to refuse the honorable means of execution to a noble prisoner of war; though now sworn against her house, Valdym and Sepana still recognized the nobility of the heir of their former King. These doubts grained against Vremyamir, but he patiently explained. His plans for his House were to be of endless conquest in the name of his found Master, who gave him visions of a vast kingdom that would be ruled by him alone. To do this, Vremyamir needed as many Knights as he could get. As of now, however, he had the Knights, but few Scions to operate them. If he were to be taken seriously by those sworn against the Empire, he would need more followers. Piercefona's Castellan is one of the finest within the sector, but by engineering of the most secret circles of the Mechanicus, it is locked only to those first born leaders of the House of Glouran. If Piercefona could be reminded of their betrothal, Vremyamir reasoned, then not only would the Castellan's awesome might be used for his purposes, but it would also forever stay in his foul line; like himself, forever being separated from its original House, with no hopes of recovery.

But Piercefona would not comply with these desires. By his order Piercefona would never be allowed out of her confines until she repledged herself by his side. Vremyamir not only did this knowing of the corruption which spread into her cell, but with the hopes that those voiceless whispers would reach her where his reason did not.

The lower Scions would take their chances with undergoing the Becoming with the Knights of their former lords. The Throne Mechanicums of the great war engines were connected to Desparcenes' terrible mind with chords and wires which jammed in at seemingly frentic places, the work of a mad scientist. These beasts of war bucked and roared at the fury of the spectres of their former masters as scrap code and daemonic energies alike were injected into them, in a mad dash to tame the Machine Spirits and accept new masters whose blood weren't of the same nobility as they were sworn to serve. After being pumped with psycho-boosters and phys-stems, the two Armiger Scions entered their new mounts.

The procedure seemingly worked, with the Knights responding to their new masters. But with a flash of light and a molten scream, all in the hangar were blinded. When vision again came, all realized that the Knight formally belonging to Princess Armietra, and the Armiger who dared tresspass within it, were gone.

This flashy exit overshadowed his moment, but the former Armiger-Scion Lukas would forever remember that day as the day he ascended into the status of a Knight-Scion; a feat few before him had accomplished.

### Banishment

Records are blurry from their rise since, and even how they came with their name is a mystery, but House Karanov is recorded to have participated with Chaos forces for at least three millennia since Vremyamir originally betrayed the Imperium. Since that time, the original Knights had become twisted through both constant exposure to the warp and the idle mind of the maniacal Desparcenes. Vremyamir's own knight would be adorned by a curious piece of technology on its helm; seemingly only an impractically placed drill built only for dread, Vremyamir's Maw curiously would, upon being fed a victim's last moments, replenish the Knight's system processes in a matter of seconds on the field of battle. Many a foe of the house would be so fed to the Knight, in their last act of the battle only rejuvenating the formidable war machine so that it may further spread the chaos of war.

Attracting many chaos freeblades to his house with promises of appreciating their talent, the first few worlds House Karanov would claim for itself, more-so in prey worlds than actual dominion, were those near the warpstorm of The Shroud. Terror reigned where they tread, and little remained when they left.