Gillam Harrow said:
"You lost it all. You lost your legs during a tour of duty in the Imperial Guard, and the bionic replacements never worked right. You lost your father to blood infection because your meagre stipend from the Imerium couldn't pay for the treatment, and your pleas for charity fell on the deaf ears of the doctors, even as they gladly took in less critical, but far richer patients. You lost your wife and son to the Eldar Corsairs when they came to raid and pillage your planet. No Imperial Guard regiment heeded your distress call. You lost your daughter, the last thing that mattered to you in this world, to the Black ships of the Inquisition, as she began to manifest psychic ability. What could you, a crippled old war veteran, do to protect your little girl from the men who came to take her? Her screams for you still haunt you at night. Then, as if things couldn't get worse, the Eldar returned, not to raid this time, but to kill anything that moved. You had enough. You picked up your Lasgun, the last thing you had to your name after all these horrible years, and hobbled out to meet your death like the guardsman you once were. And death did come.
Just not for you.
Fire and death rained from the sky, slaughtering countless Eldar. their Farseers tried erecting barriers to protect themselves, but it was no use. It seemed like something out of the scriptures of the Ministorum, but you knew it to be otherwise. You could see the daemons ravaging the Eldar in the distance. You could see the sorcerers in their dropships weaving their unholy spells. You could see the Traitor Marines charge out of their corrupted landing craft to meet the knife ears. By all rights, any emporer fearing citizen would have turned tail and fled at the sight of these damned forces, but you were no longer an emporer fearing citizen. The emporer had taken everything from you, and then abandoned you when you called out for him. But these men, women, and things besides had come to meet your foe. 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' you had heard once, and that was a lesson you took to heart.
It's been five years since that fateful day, when you took up arms alongside what you had been taught since birth was the Great Enemy. The servants Chaos have since made you whole again. They restored your youth, and made you stronger, faster, and more powerful than you could have ever imagned. They replaced the poor replacement legs you had been issued with vat grown, true, functioning, organic legs. Your legs, a part of you as much as you are a part of them.They have armed you with weapons befitting of a warrior such as you. they have girded you in armor to match your ferocity in battle. they have blessed you with abilities in payment for the losses you've suffered. They tell you that they can help you relclaim your daughter from the clutches of the False Emporer, if only you will help them take the fight to his puppets. You have done so before, and you will do so again, each time more freeing and satisfying to you. The Imperium took everything and more from you. You intend to return the favor."
Good **** Gillam Harrow.
Here's my try:
When they came I had already four kills to my name; a true and tried member of the gang. I think I was fourteen, my family died shortly after my sixth birthday. I had to make my own way after that so I cannot be sure exactly how old I am.
It had taken me a lot of skill and effort to get where I was and I weren’t about to give that up without a fight. I fought harder and more savagely than anyone else in the gang. Not out of duty, or fear or even belief in the God-Emperor but simply because they were trying to take away what was mine. Everything was coming apart around us. The whole hive. When our leader wanted to give up I killed him and led the gang myself. Our enemies were big and strong and callous but against us they only ever used stun guns or lasguns with their power set low. I never realised why until the very end, back then I only thought they were stupid.
It was a shock when I found out that it was almost like a game to them, we were their playthings and nothing more. I hated them and fought them and led my personal war against them and for all that they barely took notice. It made my hate for them blacker and colder than I thought possible.
In the end it didn’t matter of course. They took us just like they did everyone else. I managed to get one of them though; I tore off his helmet and plunged my dagger into his eye. I could feel their grudging respect after that; it is still one of the proudest days of my life.
What really changed my life was afterwards, when we were chained and caged on the space ship. For the first time in my life I saw one of Them. He came walking on the upper gantry with a fluid grace that I will never forget. Everyone fell quiet and cast down their eyes. He was enormous; His armour a deep red with chains and fresh human heads dangling with each gigantic step. His weapon looked larger than me. For all of that it was the way He glided across the walkway that impressed me the most. Each step echoing across the hall, the chains soft jingling – all that strength and power held in absolute check by a cold fury. He was a consummate warrior completely alien to the crude human soldiers that I had fought against. It is only much later that I have realised the power and arrogance of someone who can claim the population of an entire hive for himself.
It made me realise that if I could achieve even a fraction of His power and will I would finally shape my own destiny.
That has been my only strength and desire since then. It moulded my hatred and became the point from which everything else followed. It is what keeps me going when everyone else has fallen. It is my greatest weapon. More than skill, or luck or anything else it is what keeps me alive in the pits. More than the club or the sword or the axe it is what I use to kill my opponents.
One day that power will be mine and then the galaxy will tremble before me, this I swear.
The characters are taken by some Chaos warband together with everyone else on their planet/hive/society. They will have to struggle to stay alive as the weak are weeded out and their hatred is shaped into something useful. The campaign can start either with the invasion or just after.
it takes only a small amount of charitable reading to make the internet dramatically more palatable.