Inquisitor Gideon Ravenor
Gideon Ravenor, a name spoken with respect and fear across the Imperium, was an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos, renowned not only for his deeds but for the immense psychic power that burned within him. Once, he had been the devoted Interrogator of the famed Inquisitor Gregor Eisenhorn, until fate struck mercilessly on the world of Thracian Primaris. A devastating terrorist attack left his body shattered beyond natural recovery. Yet from ruin, his mind rose stronger than ever. Confined within a life-support chair equipped with potent psy-boosters, Ravenor's world became one of shadows, silence, and thought, his senses muted, but his psychic strength amplified to near-superhuman levels.
Opening
Welcome, lore-lovers... to Liandrug. Today, we walk the shadowed paths of the Inquisition, where faith meets fire and the mind itself becomes a weapon. This is the story of Gideon Ravenor, the crippled psyker who wielded thought like a blade and defied the abyss itself. Sit close... and listen.
The Chronicle
Gideon Ravenor came into the galaxy in the year 304.M41, though the world that first cradled him remains a mystery lost to the stars. Like many with the touch of the Warp upon their souls, he was likely taken as a child by the Adeptus Astra Telepathica and raised within the cold halls of the Scholastica Psykana, molded to serve the Imperium as both weapon and ward against the immaterium. When his potential ripened, the Ordo Xenos placed him under the guidance of the legendary Inquisitor Gregor Eisenhorn. There, among Eisenhorn's acolytes, Ravenor's brilliance shone brightest. To his master, he became more than a student, he was the image of what an Inquisitor should be: sharp of mind, resolute in faith, and unyielding in duty.
Among his earliest trials was the hunt for Zygmunt Molotch, a heretic of the secretive Cognitae, a cabal that cloaked its Chaos worship in the guise of scholarship. The Cognitae, led by the enigmatic Madam Chase, had sent Molotch and his team to the Sleef Outworld, a wasteland pierced by countless plasma vents that breathed Warp energy. Their blasphemous intent was to harness this energy through arcane machinery, binding the immaterium itself to mortal will. Ravenor led the assault that shattered their plans. The battlefield burned with psychic fire and plasma storms as he pursued Molotch to the brink. The heretic hurled himself into one of the seething vents, and Ravenor believed him consumed, ashes scattered into the Warp. But the truth was darker. In the instant before death, Molotch was drawn away, teleported to the vessel Oktober Country. His body was ruined, his face a mask of melted flesh, yet his hatred endured, waiting patiently for vengeance.
During these turbulent years, Ravenor's heart found solace in Arianhrod Esw Sweydyr, a master swordswoman of Carthae. Together, they shared fleeting moments of warmth amid the shadows of the Inquisition. But love has little mercy in the grim darkness of the 41st Millennium. On the world of Lethe XI, while purging a xenophile cult, Arianhrod fell to the sadistic hands of a Drukhari Haemonculus from the Kabal of the Fell Witch. Her death left Ravenor hollow, his grief buried beneath iron resolve.
Soon after, destiny led him to the grand triumph on Thracian Primaris, a celebration of victory after the Ophidian Crusade. Yet beneath the banners and hymns, treachery brewed. The Radical Inquisitor Quixos set his schemes into motion, and what began as a festival of glory became a massacre. Chaos-tainted aircraft screamed through the skies, while thirty-three rogue psykers, Alpha and Alpha-Plus grade, were unleashed from their prisons. In the chaos and fire that followed, Gideon Ravenor's fate would change forever.
When the skies above Thracian Primaris ignited with chaos, fate drew its cruel lines. Gregor Eisenhorn survived the inferno only through the intervention of Cherubael, a daemon of the Warp who spared him for reasons twisted and unfathomable, seeing in him a thread of destiny worth preserving. Gideon Ravenor was not so fortunate. Fire consumed him utterly, his flesh seared to ruin, his body reduced to a frail and broken husk that clung to life by the narrowest margin.
He could no longer move, no longer speak. What remained of the man was bound forever to a life-sustaining Force Chair, an intricate sarcophagus of machinery that breathed, spoke, and saw in his stead. Through its auto-senses and mechanical voice, he perceived and commanded the world, his humanity hidden beneath layers of steel and psychic flame.
Yet the tragedy that stole his body could not extinguish his mind. Deprived of mortal senses, Ravenor's psychic powers grew beyond measure. In the silence of his confinement, his thoughts became weapons, his will a tempest that reached across worlds. Even shattered, he served. Even broken, he fought. Recognizing his indomitable spirit, Gregor Eisenhorn himself petitioned his ascension to full Inquisitorial rank, and in 346.M41, Ravenor was named Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos.
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Decades later, in 402.M41, he turned his gaze to the hive towers of Eustis Majoris, where a strange and deadly vice had begun to spread, a Warp-tainted substance called "flects," shards of glass that twisted the minds of those who gazed into them. What began as a hunt for a drug trade soon unveiled a conspiracy far darker. Ravenor discovered that the trade was but a symptom of a heretical endeavor orchestrated by the rulers of Sub-sector Angelus.
These corrupt lords had enlisted a cabal of Rogue Traders to smuggle cogitators from the cursed Vinicies Sub-sector, machines steeped in the Warp's corruption. With them, scholars and cultists sought to decipher Enuncia, a language from the dawn of time, whose very syllables could shape existence itself. To speak it was to command reality, to bend the universe as a god might, without ever touching the Warp.
Among them stood Thedor Cadizky, once lord of Sub-sector Molotch, now fallen wholly to heresy. Using Enuncia and the patterns hidden within the architecture of Eustis Majoris, he sought to transcend mortality, to become a being of godlike power, fusing flesh, daemon, and word into one. And it was Gideon Ravenor, entombed yet unbroken, who rose to confront this impossible blasphemy.
In the depths of Sub-sector Oska, a grand deception unfolded under the command of Lord Governor Ludolf Barazan. Alongside Chief Provost Jader Trice, he wove a conspiracy so intricate that even the Inquisition's gaze could barely pierce it. Through the Magistratum Interior Cases, they silenced whispers, erased records, and ensured that no truth escaped into the light.
But behind Barazan's noble mask hid a nightmare reborn. He was none other than Zygmunt Molotch, the heretic Gideon Ravenor had once cast into the fires of Sleef. Now, through the forbidden words of Enuncia, Molotch had rebuilt his shattered flesh, reclaiming the body that the Warp had long ago devoured. His plan was vast and blasphemous, he sought to awaken the very city of Petropolis itself as a living mechanism, a vessel to channel the power of the Immaterium and ascend to godhood.
Yet fate, ever cruel and ironic, turned his own greed against him. The vile "flects," those Warp-tainted shards that had spread across Eustis Majoris as a narcotic vice, became the fault line in his grand design. Among those ensnared by their allure was Ravenor's own Interrogator, Carl Thonius, a brilliant but vain man, undone by his hunger for sensation. One of the flects he gazed into carried not the echoes of the Warp, but the essence of a Daemon beyond reckoning: Slyte. Slowly, insidiously, the entity possessed Thonius, warping him into something neither man nor fiend.
When Molotch's plan neared completion, it was the possessed Thonius who turned the tide. Empowered by the Daemon's strength, he tore through Molotch's schemes and forced the heretic to flee once more. But victory came at a terrible cost. On the world of Gudrun in 404.M41, the final confrontation erupted. Slyte, unable to remain contained, consumed Thonius utterly, body and soul. The creature that emerged threatened to unmake all before it. Only through the combined psychic might of Ravenor and Molotch, channeled through a stable Warp Gate and sorcery of perilous precision, was Slyte banished back into the hell from which it came.
With the Daemon gone, Ravenor executed Molotch at last, ending a feud that had spanned decades. Then, burdened by guilt and duty, he turned himself in to the Inquisition, confessing all. The interrogation that followed was long and merciless, yet no taint of Chaos was found upon him. Still, the mark of suspicion lingered. To the Puritans of the Inquisition, he would forever be branded a Radical, a man too willing to walk the edge between light and shadow. Ravenor was withdrawn from service for a time, a relic of mistrust and whispered fear. But the Emperor's work is never done, and soon he was called back, to hunt the very man who had once been his master. Gregor Eisenhorn, too, had strayed into forbidden paths, and on the world of Sancour their fates intertwined once again.
Their reunion was one of uneasy alliance. Both sought the truth behind the enigmatic Cognitae and a figure spoken of only in dread: the King in Yellow. This being, a phantom of half-remembered legend, led a hidden cabal known as The Eight. His motives were veiled in madness, but his aim was monstrous, to discover the true name of the Emperor Himself and wield it as a weapon to command the divine. From the Planet of the Sorcerers to Sicarius and even toward the forbidden halls of the Black Library, his influence crept.
Ravenor and Eisenhorn, once master and student, now stood as uneasy brothers-in-arms. Both had seen too much of the Warp's deceit, and both swore a final oath, to find the King in Yellow and destroy him before he could utter the words that might unmake the God-Emperor's will itself.
Closing Words
You've witnessed the trials of Gideon Ravenor, Inquisitor, psyker, survivor. But the Imperium's secrets never end. If you wish to walk further into its darkness, like, share, and subscribe to Liandrug. And join our Discord, where lore-lovers like you gather to uncover and discuss the hidden truths of the 41st Millennium. Until next time... stay curious, and beware the Warp.
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