The ​First Heretic (The Horus Heresy 14.) 6 csillagozás

Fall to Chaos
Aaron Dembski-Bowden: The First Heretic

Amidst the galaxy-wide war of the Great Crusade, the Emperor castigates the Word Bearers for their worship. Distraught at this judgement, Lorgar and his Legion seek another path while devastating world after world, venting their fury and fervour on the battlefield. Their search for a new purpose leads them to the edge of the material universe, where they meet ancient forces far more powerful than they could have imagined. Having set out to illuminate the Imperium, the corruption of Chaos takes hold and their path to damnation begins. Unbeknownst to the Word Bearers, their quest for truth contains the very roots of heresy…

Black Library, Nottingham, 2010
512 oldal · ISBN: 9781844168859

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Kiemelt értékelések

Aaron Dembski-Bowden: The First Heretic

Hm hm hm, nem is Horus volt az első áruló, sőt voltak olyanok is, kik sosem voltak hűségesek. Mi vagyunk Argel Tal.

8 hozzászólás
Aaron Dembski-Bowden: The First Heretic

Nem olvastam az összes HH könyvet, de eddig ez volt a Legjobban megírt, legizgalmasabb, legfilozofikusabb. Mindenkinek van miért szurkolni.

Kötelező mindenkinek, aki a Wh40k után érdeklődik. Sőt azt mondanám még annak is értelmezhető lenne aki semmit sem tud erről a világról.

Sőt őszintén ajánlom minden picit is spirituális érdeklődésű olvasónak.

2 hozzászólás
Aaron Dembski-Bowden: The First Heretic

Az egyik legjobb könyv a Warhammer 40k világából.
Gótikus, sci-fi és fantasy stílusjegyek keverékét az egyik legtökéletesebben felvonultató regény. Élmény volt olvasni.

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Népszerű idézetek


I remember the Day of Judgement. Can you imagine looking up and seeing the stars fall from the sky? Can you imagine the heavens themselves raining fire upon the world below? You say you can picture it. I don’t believe you. I’m not speaking of war. I’m not speaking of promethium’s stinging oil-scent, or the burning chemical reek of flames born from missile fire. Forget battle’s crude pains and the sensory assault of orbital bombardment. I am not speaking of mundane savagery – the incendiary ills men inflict upon other men. I speak of judgement. Divine judgement. The wrath of a god who looks upon the works of an entire world, and what he sees turns his heart sour. In his disgust, he sends flights of angels to deliver damnation. In his rage, he seeds the skies with fire and rains destruction upon the upturned faces of six billion worshippers. Now tell me again. Tell me again that you can imagine seeing the stars fall from the sky. Tell me you can imagine heaven weeping fire upon the land below, and a city burning so bright that all sight is scorched from your eyes as you watch it die.


The older man seemed dubious. Ishaq thought he looked like a vulture disapproving of a potential meal, largely because it was still alive.


When I die, I will die without betraying my Legion. I promise you that. My life has been long, and I have no regrets. Few can say such a thing, and even fewer can do so with sincerity. Even you cannot make that claim, Argel Tal.


‘Humanity,’ Kor Phaeron pressed his palms together in prayer, ‘must have faith. Nothing unites mankind the way religion inspires unity. No conflict rages as fiercely as a holy war. No warrior kills with the conviction of a crusader. Nothing in life breeds bonds and ambitions greater than the ties and dreams forged by faith. Religion brings hope, unification, law and purpose. The foundations of civilisation itself. Faith is nothing less than the pillar of a sentient species, raising it above the beast, the automaton, and the alien.’


‘Do you believe that?’ Torgal asked.
Argel Tal laughed, the sound bitter and short.
‘Knowing what to believe is the greatest threat we face.’


The angel’s clinical tone was curiously unnerving. He delivered his blunt, kindly sentences with all the care of a hammer to the head.


‘We didn’t have to leave,’ she said. ‘I could have answered more questions. Was I supposed to?’ Over the din of the crowd, she heard Argel Tal reply. ‘My apologies for using you as an excuse to leave,’ he said, ‘but it was too pointless to endure any longer. Questions that led nowhere, or were already answered in the Legion’s reports. Tedious bureaucracy, propagated by self-important men.’ ‘Is that not blasphemy? Defying the will of the Covenant?’ ‘No,’ said the captain. ‘It was a tactical retreat in the face of overwhelming boredom.’


Where is the line between prescience and fantasy? Between prophecy and a child’s imagination? The answer is simple. Prophecy comes true. We just have to wait.

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