The Mallus Compliance (Space Marines in Warhammer Fantasy - Chapter Master/Empire Building)
- Thread starter FractiousDay
- Start date
- Fantasy
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
I'm sorry for the late late late reply going back through this thread but the who now? The charcardons don't own planets, or even try too was this like a tau/ diasporex client state or something?
Again going back to some older but still worth remembering discussions:
We've seen that Nehekara already indeed, i've covered a few contingencies for why the Orcs cannot be dismissed as indeed even their lesser forces at least slowed our consolidation of the upper southlands significantly.
I am wondering if you have any plans for such for factions that look at a glance weaker though? Like say the Border Princes, or IDK Albion later assuming they do indeed want to fight. Might they say offer to allow themselves to become vassals of bretonnia or kislev or someone to at least maintain a devil-you-know situation?
Might they hire tons of mercenaries(some of whom could be exotic and dangerous indeed) promising wealth or marriage or lordships if only the imperium could be held at bay? Could such fears be footholds for chaos cults especially say that of Tzeench to sprout?
No need to answer in full but I am curious what your thought process is for polities who aren't like Ulthuan or the Under Empire who don't have massive or at least obvious military muscle too flex at such things.
I am wondering if the timeline thing is why you left the quest? We ended up in the 2100's.
It's been a while since you've posted here so I wanted to let you now given the previous rolls the next turn is practically guaranteed to involve Sylvania and thus vampires which you seemed to have interest in when you were more active on this thread, as seen on page 124.
Not particularly, there was just other stuff to do, other things to read. Always intended to eventually get back to reading this and maybe participating again, just never really got to it.
Saharduin. Shark people xenos, a polity unto their own, albeit a minor one.
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Were those the guys that 'inspired' a bunch of necromundan technologies? Or were those entirely different aquatic aliens?
I have no idea.
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Cool video, I for one appreciate these shows of tangentially related content. That said I'd think he might join the Mechanicus rather than the guard? He was very into self augmentation and metal working and accruing devices of power, I think he'd be a good fit for them though I do not know them well enough to say where in our branch he'd fit in.
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Hey I'm confused, I'm looking back on the Southlands map and the Wizard Caliphs palace seems not to actually be on the sorcerous islands, for some reason I thought it was, did he relocate his stuff when he saw the invasion of Araby starting?
It's depicted far south of lashiek at the end of the mountain chain there.
Are there walls or buildings still left standing on the mainland that we might have our librarians investigate? Assuming they knew this place existed which they might not? I'd assume it would have a lot of magical/psychic resonance though.
Also, will it be possible to potentially our influence to broker peace between our Norscans and Nordland and our Norscans and the Norse dwarves? I'm not asking idly, if our more devoted allies had more timber available to them to make ships they could be of greater use to us than they are now.
If they could help work on reinforcing the dwarf hold than our forges and mechanicus people might be safer, etc.
Generally having more of an alliance in place to guard the rest of our not quite repossed world from chaos seems a very prudent thing to me.
Also is there any chance that we could have more peaceful relations with the Wizards of Middenheim, why or why not compared to the previous situation in Araby?
By the way I hope I am not being annoyed please rest as much as you need and please only answer when you can do so coherently and comfortably, no stress from me is intended.
It's depicted far south of lashiek at the end of the mountain chain there.
Are there walls or buildings still left standing on the mainland that we might have our librarians investigate? Assuming they knew this place existed which they might not? I'd assume it would have a lot of magical/psychic resonance though.
Also, will it be possible to potentially our influence to broker peace between our Norscans and Nordland and our Norscans and the Norse dwarves? I'm not asking idly, if our more devoted allies had more timber available to them to make ships they could be of greater use to us than they are now.
If they could help work on reinforcing the dwarf hold than our forges and mechanicus people might be safer, etc.
Generally having more of an alliance in place to guard the rest of our not quite repossed world from chaos seems a very prudent thing to me.
Also is there any chance that we could have more peaceful relations with the Wizards of Middenheim, why or why not compared to the previous situation in Araby?
By the way I hope I am not being annoyed please rest as much as you need and please only answer when you can do so coherently and comfortably, no stress from me is intended.
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
@FractiousDay
I hope I'm not being rude by asking how goes life and work?
Are you alright? I've had a rough time losing a tooth and it's fine not talking about it but it seems odd by what I've seen of your standards to leave an interlude half-finished for this long.
I still don't even know why it's called ''iterator'' .
EDIT: Oh my god I'm having a brain fart/fail aren't I? i's probably an imperial title our MC for this section is going to earn isn't it?
I hope I'm not being rude by asking how goes life and work?
Are you alright? I've had a rough time losing a tooth and it's fine not talking about it but it seems odd by what I've seen of your standards to leave an interlude half-finished for this long.
I still don't even know why it's called ''iterator'' .
EDIT: Oh my god I'm having a brain fart/fail aren't I? i's probably an imperial title our MC for this section is going to earn isn't it?
Last edited:
- Location
- United Kingdom
Yea I'm good thanks, jsut busy and less inclined to do lots of writing
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Hmm, this might not be back until next year in full with the new project and I might not be back to my full posting capabilities until December so.
A self-reminder for some effort posts I want to make within an ill-defined timeline of ''January or December''
-Dealing with Nagash's Black Pyramid(it's on our doorstep/ in our house already so to say)
-Slavery and monster ''taming'' on mallus . Mainly talking about the value of liberating humans and abhumans, creating converts, the possible reverse engineering of Scrolls of Binding, the threat / value assessment of various bound monsters, etc.
-An examination on the why's and why not's the Silver Skulls chapters Hybrid Libraian-led chaplaincy situation (or mimicking it with appropriate changes in rituals) might solve/ make worse the conflict our own chapter has on such.
Those are the big ones plaguing my brain, all of which will require research and proper time dedication that I just lack practically for now but still not releasing a grasp on my brain in the wee hours.
...but with multiple STEM classes before and after this...there is a reason why I have not posted here in 17 days and a reason why these are likely to start with an even larger time gap.
@FractiousDay BTW, Nimrod's looking great, I just won't have much time for that either. Love your works in general, that Soviet Stargate stuff should have earned you a more recognizable name in these online circles. You'll see me again as an advid supporter and suggestion maker, engagement generator when I can do so healthily again, take care of yourself too out there if you can
A self-reminder for some effort posts I want to make within an ill-defined timeline of ''January or December''
-Dealing with Nagash's Black Pyramid(it's on our doorstep/ in our house already so to say)
-Slavery and monster ''taming'' on mallus . Mainly talking about the value of liberating humans and abhumans, creating converts, the possible reverse engineering of Scrolls of Binding, the threat / value assessment of various bound monsters, etc.
-An examination on the why's and why not's the Silver Skulls chapters Hybrid Libraian-led chaplaincy situation (or mimicking it with appropriate changes in rituals) might solve/ make worse the conflict our own chapter has on such.
Those are the big ones plaguing my brain, all of which will require research and proper time dedication that I just lack practically for now but still not releasing a grasp on my brain in the wee hours.
...but with multiple STEM classes before and after this...there is a reason why I have not posted here in 17 days and a reason why these are likely to start with an even larger time gap.
@FractiousDay BTW, Nimrod's looking great, I just won't have much time for that either. Love your works in general, that Soviet Stargate stuff should have earned you a more recognizable name in these online circles. You'll see me again as an advid supporter and suggestion maker, engagement generator when I can do so healthily again, take care of yourself too out there if you can
- Location
- United Kingdom
As i've told rx, do your own stuff first lol
Thanks for this though. The results for the timeskip chapter will probably be 20k of writing, which I don't mind doing, but I want to actally get into it rather than forcing myself back to work etc. Nimrod is fun, but I have like 15 other story ideas, so I'll eventually get around to some of them perhaps.
Soviet Stargate was an interesting one, there just weren't any fics like that, there were like 2 which had a similar premise but ignored that the characters were, yknow, communists. They just tended to act like americans wearing red and saying 'comrade' a lot.
But yes I enjoy your comments, very useful and good to have someone so active, but don't feel obliged to do such things, and look after yourself too
Iterator Interlude 2
- Location
- United Kingdom
Iterator Interlude 2
Behold then, the Lords-in-the-Trees, behold their mighty works!
The wonders of the Great City were limitless. Truly had never considered anything like it.
The young man liked to think of himself as a well-travelled warrior, he'd fought in raids, taken sacrifices and danced the sacred dances of his people, he'd lain with women, and travelled to the towns of other tribes in the great jungles of the Southlands.
But Pharos, the City of the Gods, was something else entirely.
Apparently this was everyone's reaction. The central spire of the Kingmaker, the mighty temple of the Mechanicus, was perhaps the most massive single building in the world, though Lukeni had heard that some elven spires were taller, though spindly and weak…
Lukeni had been recovered by the Lords-in-the-Trees, and by their chief, the Star-Lion himself. He had little memory of it, he remembered light and magnificence, shining steel and wings of gold. Then he woke in a sickbed, hundreds of miles away, having been healed by the Star-Lion's presence and then sent for recovery. He had intruded, unwillingly or not upon the domain of the Lionlords themselves but rather than striking him dead for breaching the Realm of the Gods, the Star-Lion had set him upon the True Path.
Lukeni was taken by the priests of the Lion, those men and women called Iterators. He was sent to a place of learning, the Schola Indigena, he studied there, learnt of what he'd once called magic, learnt chymistry and mathimatika, he sang in the Choir of Ten Thousand, composed entirely of the natives of Mallus, and he attended the Readings of the Dead by the Archpriest of the Lionlords.
By day he learnt, and by night he taught. The sky-people came to him for information. They asked all manner of things, from the names and qualities of plants to the history of earthquakes and the former teachings of the old religion. In each case they clarified and classified, so that the might Ironhide became the Ferructus, while the sneaking muck-stalkers of the southern gullies became the Foetedon.
Much had been revealed to him, wonders and terrors, and after a year and a day he was dispatched back to his own people to teach them. Each day he would preach the Lectitio Divinitatus, standing upon the sacred stone of sacrifice and worship, he would sit beside the Honoured Mothers (though behind a cloth screen as was proper) and advise them. Heretics were shown the error of their ways, and the Sotek worshippers were stamped out.
Once, in yet another wonderous experience, Lukeni even spied a Lionlord hunting in the forest, wrestling a mighty Ironhide and snapping it's neck, laying it out on the floor and taking it's skull for a trophy. Lukeni led his folk to the corpse after and they gave worship with the meat of the beast.
All was well in the jungles. There was a single abortive attempt by a confederation of tribes who held to the old ways to unite against the Lords-in-the-Trees but Lukeni led his people and scattered them, mounting the pyramid of Sotek and sanctifying that place with the blood of the faithless.
Life in the jungle changed relatively little though. There was no more conflict between tribes, though the rituals of war still took place under the auspices of the new priesthood. Sacrifices were still given, but no longer of death, rather the folk of the jungle gave their lives for the Emperor, heading out toward the Golden Tower where the Lionlords sent their servants to bear them away to the Emperor's wars.
Three years later, Lukeni knelt before the Iterator Prime and received his silken stole and staff. He went, commanded and ordered, certified and anointed, out into the towns of Araby as one of a new cohort of missionaries and advisors to the people of that land, his abilities recognised and rewarded.
He ruled his territory by word, delighting in the destruction of the Arabyan gods. In one case, he assured Mechanicus Enginseers that they could indeed locate their railyard over a particular spot.
"The local's don't seem best pleased." the Skitarii Ranger Alpha remarked, thumbing the activator of his arc-maul.
"I assure you, my lord," Lukeni replied easily, "This place was merely a midden heap, there is no wider significance."
The Arabyans shouted and gesticulated as the excavators unearthed the corpses of their ancestors, and Lukeni grinned. The Arabyans had tormented his people for centuries in their slave taking and raids of the coasts, and he was glad he could revenge himself upon them, even if by only destroying the graves of the already dead.
Life was good, Lukeni brought the True Faith to the region, he stamped out the unfaithful just as he had in the jungle, and after a time he was returned back to Pharos, this time to teach those who had once been like him. He stood alongside his colleagues from the Iterators, as well as those from the original Missionarus Galaxia sent alongside the Celestial Lions' fleet.
"This new cadre will do well, I think." said one Drill-Abbot to him as they ate together during a break, "They have the intellect, and the zeal I think, but I fear for their purpose."
Lukeni's confusion must have been evident.
"What I mean," the missionary continued, "Is that while the Missionaria's taught everyone well, I see fundamental flaws. It's hardly my place to say, I know Confessor Hermina has spoken to the Arch-Factor about it… There is inflexibility, a lack of proper systems. We send our students out, students like you, without a clear idea of what they're to do, other than preach."
"Is that not our purpose?" Lukeni asked.
"Yes." The missionary admitted, "But, it's been the Missionaria's perspective that preaching itself isn't enough. Did you attend the Arch-Factor's address last year? Of course you did, but you remember, he said 'In order to make them civilised, we must first make them men'? Fundamentally the Iterators are attempting to implement a dozen projects at once. There isn't enough training, enough understanding of the cultures we're sending our people out into. Why, only last week I heard about a purge of one tribe who'd taken in heretics from another tribe who'd warred with a loyalist group previously. The regional governor considered the sheltering of refugees as a prelude to an attack, so he struck first, but it wasn't, that tribe just happened to follow a culture where hospitality was sacred. As I say, inflexibility… You might also say that the Iterators have been rolled out according to an unsuited design. We in the Missionaria have taught others, but the Arch-Factor controls it all, he administrates the scheme, but he does so as a high ranking Chapter Serf and a servant of the Astartes, thus he considers all matters in relation to his position, he cannot prevent the Astartes from doing as they please, even moderating them, consider this fire cult they have going for example-"
"I would not think those words wise." Lukeni remarked, looking around. While he'd lost some of his wonder he was still a pious man. "It is not wise to even think such things." While it might be reasonable to criticise mortals, even implying that an Astartes, the Chapter Master no less, had made a bad decision was stupidity, and worse, heresy… The Elysian Pyrocult of the Lions was well known as a source of contention among the more orthodox elements of the Ecclesiarchy on Mallus, but it was rarely spoken of.
"True enough." the Drill-Abbot replied, and bent to their food.
Behold then, the Lords-in-the-Trees, behold their mighty works!
The wonders of the Great City were limitless. Truly had never considered anything like it.
The young man liked to think of himself as a well-travelled warrior, he'd fought in raids, taken sacrifices and danced the sacred dances of his people, he'd lain with women, and travelled to the towns of other tribes in the great jungles of the Southlands.
But Pharos, the City of the Gods, was something else entirely.
Apparently this was everyone's reaction. The central spire of the Kingmaker, the mighty temple of the Mechanicus, was perhaps the most massive single building in the world, though Lukeni had heard that some elven spires were taller, though spindly and weak…
Lukeni had been recovered by the Lords-in-the-Trees, and by their chief, the Star-Lion himself. He had little memory of it, he remembered light and magnificence, shining steel and wings of gold. Then he woke in a sickbed, hundreds of miles away, having been healed by the Star-Lion's presence and then sent for recovery. He had intruded, unwillingly or not upon the domain of the Lionlords themselves but rather than striking him dead for breaching the Realm of the Gods, the Star-Lion had set him upon the True Path.
Lukeni was taken by the priests of the Lion, those men and women called Iterators. He was sent to a place of learning, the Schola Indigena, he studied there, learnt of what he'd once called magic, learnt chymistry and mathimatika, he sang in the Choir of Ten Thousand, composed entirely of the natives of Mallus, and he attended the Readings of the Dead by the Archpriest of the Lionlords.
By day he learnt, and by night he taught. The sky-people came to him for information. They asked all manner of things, from the names and qualities of plants to the history of earthquakes and the former teachings of the old religion. In each case they clarified and classified, so that the might Ironhide became the Ferructus, while the sneaking muck-stalkers of the southern gullies became the Foetedon.
Much had been revealed to him, wonders and terrors, and after a year and a day he was dispatched back to his own people to teach them. Each day he would preach the Lectitio Divinitatus, standing upon the sacred stone of sacrifice and worship, he would sit beside the Honoured Mothers (though behind a cloth screen as was proper) and advise them. Heretics were shown the error of their ways, and the Sotek worshippers were stamped out.
Once, in yet another wonderous experience, Lukeni even spied a Lionlord hunting in the forest, wrestling a mighty Ironhide and snapping it's neck, laying it out on the floor and taking it's skull for a trophy. Lukeni led his folk to the corpse after and they gave worship with the meat of the beast.
All was well in the jungles. There was a single abortive attempt by a confederation of tribes who held to the old ways to unite against the Lords-in-the-Trees but Lukeni led his people and scattered them, mounting the pyramid of Sotek and sanctifying that place with the blood of the faithless.
Life in the jungle changed relatively little though. There was no more conflict between tribes, though the rituals of war still took place under the auspices of the new priesthood. Sacrifices were still given, but no longer of death, rather the folk of the jungle gave their lives for the Emperor, heading out toward the Golden Tower where the Lionlords sent their servants to bear them away to the Emperor's wars.
Three years later, Lukeni knelt before the Iterator Prime and received his silken stole and staff. He went, commanded and ordered, certified and anointed, out into the towns of Araby as one of a new cohort of missionaries and advisors to the people of that land, his abilities recognised and rewarded.
He ruled his territory by word, delighting in the destruction of the Arabyan gods. In one case, he assured Mechanicus Enginseers that they could indeed locate their railyard over a particular spot.
"The local's don't seem best pleased." the Skitarii Ranger Alpha remarked, thumbing the activator of his arc-maul.
"I assure you, my lord," Lukeni replied easily, "This place was merely a midden heap, there is no wider significance."
The Arabyans shouted and gesticulated as the excavators unearthed the corpses of their ancestors, and Lukeni grinned. The Arabyans had tormented his people for centuries in their slave taking and raids of the coasts, and he was glad he could revenge himself upon them, even if by only destroying the graves of the already dead.
Life was good, Lukeni brought the True Faith to the region, he stamped out the unfaithful just as he had in the jungle, and after a time he was returned back to Pharos, this time to teach those who had once been like him. He stood alongside his colleagues from the Iterators, as well as those from the original Missionarus Galaxia sent alongside the Celestial Lions' fleet.
"This new cadre will do well, I think." said one Drill-Abbot to him as they ate together during a break, "They have the intellect, and the zeal I think, but I fear for their purpose."
Lukeni's confusion must have been evident.
"What I mean," the missionary continued, "Is that while the Missionaria's taught everyone well, I see fundamental flaws. It's hardly my place to say, I know Confessor Hermina has spoken to the Arch-Factor about it… There is inflexibility, a lack of proper systems. We send our students out, students like you, without a clear idea of what they're to do, other than preach."
"Is that not our purpose?" Lukeni asked.
"Yes." The missionary admitted, "But, it's been the Missionaria's perspective that preaching itself isn't enough. Did you attend the Arch-Factor's address last year? Of course you did, but you remember, he said 'In order to make them civilised, we must first make them men'? Fundamentally the Iterators are attempting to implement a dozen projects at once. There isn't enough training, enough understanding of the cultures we're sending our people out into. Why, only last week I heard about a purge of one tribe who'd taken in heretics from another tribe who'd warred with a loyalist group previously. The regional governor considered the sheltering of refugees as a prelude to an attack, so he struck first, but it wasn't, that tribe just happened to follow a culture where hospitality was sacred. As I say, inflexibility… You might also say that the Iterators have been rolled out according to an unsuited design. We in the Missionaria have taught others, but the Arch-Factor controls it all, he administrates the scheme, but he does so as a high ranking Chapter Serf and a servant of the Astartes, thus he considers all matters in relation to his position, he cannot prevent the Astartes from doing as they please, even moderating them, consider this fire cult they have going for example-"
"I would not think those words wise." Lukeni remarked, looking around. While he'd lost some of his wonder he was still a pious man. "It is not wise to even think such things." While it might be reasonable to criticise mortals, even implying that an Astartes, the Chapter Master no less, had made a bad decision was stupidity, and worse, heresy… The Elysian Pyrocult of the Lions was well known as a source of contention among the more orthodox elements of the Ecclesiarchy on Mallus, but it was rarely spoken of.
"True enough." the Drill-Abbot replied, and bent to their food.
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Invadingcat478
Certified Homophone
- Location
- Nekoneko town
Ooof, that's a lot of trampling over cultural heritage. They're lucky they locals don't have AKs and Toyota Hilux
Drakenhof Interlude
- Location
- United Kingdom
Drakenhof Interlude
The Midnight Aristocracy gathered in a dank cavern beneath the walls of Castle Drakenhof. What ancient haunt was this? What laboratory or scholarium full of secrets had led them there?
None, it was merely the storage space for tax records in von Carstein territories. The custodian undead that maintained the place had been banished and the room made secure from observation with magic.
Mannfred von Carstein stood alert, pale eyes look about him, armour burnished with shadowy enchantment, his greatsword leaning against his shoulder.
A dozen figures, vampire and human, stood in the gloom, most of them entirely able to see in the darkness.
The largest was a hulking monster, King Druthor of Grimbarrow, master of the Haunted Hills and lord over a dismal graveyard. He was Stigoi, the cursed corpse eaters and the get of Vorag Bloodytooth.
The smallest was Madam Kalfon. Rumour had it that her Necrarch sire had been fascinated by her wild magic as a child, and turned her, swiftly leading to his own death at the hands of the undead child. The 'madam', an affectation to make her more mature, was an abomination. If any von Carstein turned a child Mannfred would have seen to their torturous death himself, but Kalfon survived the transformation and had become one of the most able of Mannfred's little cabal.
Anark von Carstein was there, the Grandmaster of the Drakenhof Templars. He was Mannfred's own get, a brutal and ambitious vampire, one of the former knights of Castle Drakenhof itself. He wasn't Mannfred's equal in magic, but he was far better with a blade, and Mannfred admitted, in command and battle. Reliable, but ambitious, Anark and his Templars were Mannfred's answer to Walach Harkon's Blood Dragons.
Harkon had suffered an immeasurable loss of prestige since his defeat outside Averheim and the destruction of his mount. The Necrarch Brotherhood had gifted him the mount, drawn together by black magic in the Forest of Shadows at great cost, and were subsequently less than pleased.
Mannfred gave his firstborn childe a small nod.
"We are gathered to debate the survival of our people." Anark began.
Mannfred had commanded him to assemble the group. He had the best claim to his father's throne and the dark kingdom of Sylvannia, but for a century or more he'd let others fight among themselves, and now only Konrad was left of Vlad's get. Despite this, it wouldn't look good for Mannfred to seem to be plotting, better than Anark did, he had the most military experience in Sylvannia except for Harkon, and that experience would give him gravitas.
Heterneb of Lahmia sniffed, putting on her affect developed many years ago in the Silver Pinnacle at the feet of her mistress. The Lahmians had proved suprisingly useless in the Vampire Wars, as the Empire called them. They had been good information collectors, but they were stuck in their ways, they loved subterfuge and their networks of spies, but they had an almost unbreakable aversion to actually taking action when necessary.
While Heterneb might have proven adequate for some purposes, she'd also completely failed to provide anything of note in the most recent phase of the Wars against the reinvigorated Empire. No matter, she would have her place.
"Give me your eyes." whispered a voice in Mannfred's ear, "For I see not with my own…"
With a gesture and a spell he banished the spirit and earnt himself a sneer from Mundvard the Cruel, vampire lord of Marienburg, the 'Lord of Shadows' who controlled that city with spirits and intrigue.
Anark ignored the interruption ably, "The Golden Sons represent a threat we have never faced."
"They are worse than elves." spat Druthor in a growl, lips forming the words crudely around his fangs.
"Indeed." Anark said, "Against a united Empire victory was never certain-"
"Especially after beloved Vashanesh's true death…" Heterneb said mournfully, as if she really cared about her mistress's former lover.
Anark's face showed a sneer for a moment before he schooled himself. It had been a true task to gather such a variety of powerful figures, and the interruptions weren't helping Mannfred's patience either.
As Anark managed as best he could, marshalling the others with rhetoric and persuasion, Mannfred reviewed the recent events.
He had betrayed his bloodsire, leading to his death and the possibility that Mannfred instead would become the Emperor in Darkness, as was his destiny. The Empire had beat the undead armies back to the borders of the River Stir and the haunts of Sylvannia, but no further. His other brothers slain, sometimes by his own hand, Mannfred and Konrad were the only ones left, if you could call the insane beast that was Konrad von Carstein truly a person.
Plots and strategies abounded. The Era of Three Emperors largely continued, Counts were encouraged to war against each other, but Mannfred had seen no possibility of true disunity among them. Thus, they'd adopted a different tactic.
In a move that sometimes surprised even himself, Mannfred had managed to get a corpse elected as Emperor. It had taken some time to plan and more effort to execute, but he'd managed it and somehow no one appeared to have noticed yet. Helmut of Marienburg, or rather, his animated corpse, had been kept concealed to give the impression Helmut was still suffering a wound from battle.
It had been a good plan, use the infirmity of the Emperor to drive the Empire back into civil war.
But then the Golden Sons had arrived.
Seeming to emerge from the wilderness in the Empire's hour of need, they routed Konrad's forces at the Battle of Averheim, and subsequently showed magnificent tactical and strategic skill, destroying any army sent against the Empire and also conducting campaign of assassinations and fast strikes across the Empire.
At first Mannfred hadn't entirely believed the stories the Lahmians had brought him. First there were three Golden Sons, then a hundred. First they wore merely cloth and bore common weapons, then they girt themselves in magnificent golden armour wielded armaments the likes of which even the Dawi knew not.
It had been a confusing few years. The Golden Sons had flying vehicles of some sort, able to match anything in the air, and indeed in one instance apparently a manticore had flown into one of them and simply been splattered across the hull of the craft. Such vehicles made their efforts difficult to track and predict.
The Golden Sons had been reported before, in the Southlands, but in truth Mannfred's attention had been on the Empire and he'd paid it little mind. It would have been useful if there were subordinates who were focused on such things, but the Lahmians were unhelpful as even and hadn't seen fit to draw his attention to other matters.
They had done much, provoking a theological debate in the Sigmarite church regarding Sigmar's divinity, apparently destroying half of Norsca in conflict with an uncertain foe, and accomplishing various ridiculous feats. Supposedly Kabor Brighthand had wrestled a griffon to submission and mounted it, while Dargo Dragonkiller had trained a dozen child-mages which followed him in battle.
In perhaps the most notable feat, the Golden Sons had apparently cleared the Drakwald Forest. Hundreds of miles of woodland were burned, but nevertheless, whole herds of beastmen and tribes of forest goblins had been destroyed. For his feats Brighthand had been named the Reiksmarshall of the Empire and supreme commander of their forces in the Vampire Wars, and now carried Klingerach , the Sword of Vengeance, Runefang of Solland.
It had all fallen apart. The von Carsteins were in retreat, hardly able to muster an army without the Golden Sons bearing down on them and the Griffon Company marching on their heels.
That had necessitated a change in strategy. Mannfred sent out dozens of necromancers, not to conquer, merely to destroy, to raise hordes of zombies and abandon them just as easily. It seemed that the Golden Sons were limited at least in fuel and numbers, and through this dispersed strategy Druthor had led vampires to swoop down on terrorgeists and hellsteeds, striking swiftly, never trying to hold territory or conduct great rituals, merely to destroy. The Golden Sons had a single mage of power, and he couldn't be everywhere.
It had worked for a time, but when the Golden Sons had reformed they'd learned, able to combat the Vampire Count tactics well enough to make more progress.
Even unorthodox tactics had proved relatively ineffective. The shriek of Mundvard's banshees had made them hesitate, but they'd pushed forward, immune after the first time they'd heard it. Cries that could scare entire regiments to death were ineffective, and the spectral knives of the undead were useful to a point, until the Golden Sons started brandishing small pieces of paper and wax seals, no doubt an item of faith to drive away the spirits.
The Lahmians attempted seduction, and when they managed to get close enough the Golden Sons appeared confused more than anything. Heterneb had gotten close enough to open the throat of one Son with her dagger, but the next day it was found that the warrior was healed and back in battle again.
Madam Kalfon and the Necrarchs had proved slightly more effective, they'd developed new spells from the Lore of Shadows to conceal and obfuscate, spells strong enough to resist even the Sons' piercing sight.
The less said about the Blood Dragons the better. Walach Harkon had begged a new mount from somewhere and gone into battle with his bodyguards, swearing to add Kabor Brighthand's blood to his magical chalice. The leader of the Sons had accepted the vampire's offer of single combat and promptly overcome him, Walach's crimson blade shattering beneath a mighty blow, even the hilt-shard skittering off Kabor's golden plate. Walach's guard had rode forward to the aid of their chief only to be slaughtered by some sort of rotary cannon and Brighthand's Runefang.
Not only were the Sons might warriors, easily a match for most vampires, they seemed to combine the massive strength of a Strigoi with the bladecraft of a Blood Dragon and the tactical intelligence of a von Carstein. While his people were not necessarily overly troubled with morale, the revelation that there were so many who could oppose them openly was a harsh one.
While thousands of humans had been slaughtered, soldiers and civilians alike, only a dozen of the Sons had been brought down. Mannfred had seen to three himself, trapping them in mazes of shadow before lashing out with his blade. Necrarchs had managed to bring down more, even one of their craft with a volley of dark magic, finding themselves under fire themselves by other flying chariots soon after. Druthor and two of his kin had surprised more of the Sons, pinning them down in turn and ripping off their heads, while a few others had been slain in similar circumstances by others.
Now it was time for new action. It was clear that they were losing the war, and without significantly enhanced resources, information, and unity there was no hope. Mannfred had proposed a retreat. None of this had gone to Konrad, he could rage in his castle till the Sons brought it down around him, but Mannfred had rallied his cabal to remove all the resources they could from paintings to magical artefacts to alchemic reagents. This was the first time they'd met openly all together, and Mannfred led the conversation, soothing egos and stroking passions.
Retreat, only to return in time with greater strength. That was what they agreed, all to Mannfred's designs, and swiftly each went their own way. They prepared a spoiling action. By dark magic and black sorceries they would leave traps for the Golden Sons wherever they could. Infected wells with warpstone and vampire blood, drawing up ghouls and making them Crypt Horrors, enormous mutated hungerers, while Arnak would descend with Druthor into the crypts to waken the vampires who'd been sealed away, weakening the locks on their prisons just enough to allow the Vargheist and Varghulfs to break free.
"You too must be away, my apprentice." Mannfred said.
Helman Ghorst nodded and bowed, "By your will, master." and he departed.
More to this spoiling action would be Ghorst and his compatriots attempts to spread more chaos through the Empire. Through plague and pestilence, contamination and sabotage, Mannfred hoped to keep the Golden Sons busy enough not to look for him.
The last element Mannfred had told no one of. Dieter Helsnicht, newly appointed Rector of the Middenheim Guild of Magic, was in truth an agent of the dark, and through Mannfred Helsnicht would lay the groundwork for a religious war between Ulricans and Sigmarites. The Empire would be plunged back into civil war, and the Vampire Counts would be able to gather themselves in secrecy.
But Mannfred wouldn't be here for that.
No, he would go south, sneak through the Badlands, possibly even past Karak Kadrin and then down the eastern side of the World's Edge Mountains. Timor Noctis, the Sword of Unholy Power, forged by smiths of Zhar-Naggrund, would be enough to protect him. South and south again to the Cursed Pit.
South to Nagashizzar and its dark master.
The Midnight Aristocracy gathered in a dank cavern beneath the walls of Castle Drakenhof. What ancient haunt was this? What laboratory or scholarium full of secrets had led them there?
None, it was merely the storage space for tax records in von Carstein territories. The custodian undead that maintained the place had been banished and the room made secure from observation with magic.
Mannfred von Carstein stood alert, pale eyes look about him, armour burnished with shadowy enchantment, his greatsword leaning against his shoulder.
A dozen figures, vampire and human, stood in the gloom, most of them entirely able to see in the darkness.
The largest was a hulking monster, King Druthor of Grimbarrow, master of the Haunted Hills and lord over a dismal graveyard. He was Stigoi, the cursed corpse eaters and the get of Vorag Bloodytooth.
The smallest was Madam Kalfon. Rumour had it that her Necrarch sire had been fascinated by her wild magic as a child, and turned her, swiftly leading to his own death at the hands of the undead child. The 'madam', an affectation to make her more mature, was an abomination. If any von Carstein turned a child Mannfred would have seen to their torturous death himself, but Kalfon survived the transformation and had become one of the most able of Mannfred's little cabal.
Anark von Carstein was there, the Grandmaster of the Drakenhof Templars. He was Mannfred's own get, a brutal and ambitious vampire, one of the former knights of Castle Drakenhof itself. He wasn't Mannfred's equal in magic, but he was far better with a blade, and Mannfred admitted, in command and battle. Reliable, but ambitious, Anark and his Templars were Mannfred's answer to Walach Harkon's Blood Dragons.
Harkon had suffered an immeasurable loss of prestige since his defeat outside Averheim and the destruction of his mount. The Necrarch Brotherhood had gifted him the mount, drawn together by black magic in the Forest of Shadows at great cost, and were subsequently less than pleased.
Mannfred gave his firstborn childe a small nod.
"We are gathered to debate the survival of our people." Anark began.
Mannfred had commanded him to assemble the group. He had the best claim to his father's throne and the dark kingdom of Sylvannia, but for a century or more he'd let others fight among themselves, and now only Konrad was left of Vlad's get. Despite this, it wouldn't look good for Mannfred to seem to be plotting, better than Anark did, he had the most military experience in Sylvannia except for Harkon, and that experience would give him gravitas.
Heterneb of Lahmia sniffed, putting on her affect developed many years ago in the Silver Pinnacle at the feet of her mistress. The Lahmians had proved suprisingly useless in the Vampire Wars, as the Empire called them. They had been good information collectors, but they were stuck in their ways, they loved subterfuge and their networks of spies, but they had an almost unbreakable aversion to actually taking action when necessary.
While Heterneb might have proven adequate for some purposes, she'd also completely failed to provide anything of note in the most recent phase of the Wars against the reinvigorated Empire. No matter, she would have her place.
"Give me your eyes." whispered a voice in Mannfred's ear, "For I see not with my own…"
With a gesture and a spell he banished the spirit and earnt himself a sneer from Mundvard the Cruel, vampire lord of Marienburg, the 'Lord of Shadows' who controlled that city with spirits and intrigue.
Anark ignored the interruption ably, "The Golden Sons represent a threat we have never faced."
"They are worse than elves." spat Druthor in a growl, lips forming the words crudely around his fangs.
"Indeed." Anark said, "Against a united Empire victory was never certain-"
"Especially after beloved Vashanesh's true death…" Heterneb said mournfully, as if she really cared about her mistress's former lover.
Anark's face showed a sneer for a moment before he schooled himself. It had been a true task to gather such a variety of powerful figures, and the interruptions weren't helping Mannfred's patience either.
As Anark managed as best he could, marshalling the others with rhetoric and persuasion, Mannfred reviewed the recent events.
He had betrayed his bloodsire, leading to his death and the possibility that Mannfred instead would become the Emperor in Darkness, as was his destiny. The Empire had beat the undead armies back to the borders of the River Stir and the haunts of Sylvannia, but no further. His other brothers slain, sometimes by his own hand, Mannfred and Konrad were the only ones left, if you could call the insane beast that was Konrad von Carstein truly a person.
Plots and strategies abounded. The Era of Three Emperors largely continued, Counts were encouraged to war against each other, but Mannfred had seen no possibility of true disunity among them. Thus, they'd adopted a different tactic.
In a move that sometimes surprised even himself, Mannfred had managed to get a corpse elected as Emperor. It had taken some time to plan and more effort to execute, but he'd managed it and somehow no one appeared to have noticed yet. Helmut of Marienburg, or rather, his animated corpse, had been kept concealed to give the impression Helmut was still suffering a wound from battle.
It had been a good plan, use the infirmity of the Emperor to drive the Empire back into civil war.
But then the Golden Sons had arrived.
Seeming to emerge from the wilderness in the Empire's hour of need, they routed Konrad's forces at the Battle of Averheim, and subsequently showed magnificent tactical and strategic skill, destroying any army sent against the Empire and also conducting campaign of assassinations and fast strikes across the Empire.
At first Mannfred hadn't entirely believed the stories the Lahmians had brought him. First there were three Golden Sons, then a hundred. First they wore merely cloth and bore common weapons, then they girt themselves in magnificent golden armour wielded armaments the likes of which even the Dawi knew not.
It had been a confusing few years. The Golden Sons had flying vehicles of some sort, able to match anything in the air, and indeed in one instance apparently a manticore had flown into one of them and simply been splattered across the hull of the craft. Such vehicles made their efforts difficult to track and predict.
The Golden Sons had been reported before, in the Southlands, but in truth Mannfred's attention had been on the Empire and he'd paid it little mind. It would have been useful if there were subordinates who were focused on such things, but the Lahmians were unhelpful as even and hadn't seen fit to draw his attention to other matters.
They had done much, provoking a theological debate in the Sigmarite church regarding Sigmar's divinity, apparently destroying half of Norsca in conflict with an uncertain foe, and accomplishing various ridiculous feats. Supposedly Kabor Brighthand had wrestled a griffon to submission and mounted it, while Dargo Dragonkiller had trained a dozen child-mages which followed him in battle.
In perhaps the most notable feat, the Golden Sons had apparently cleared the Drakwald Forest. Hundreds of miles of woodland were burned, but nevertheless, whole herds of beastmen and tribes of forest goblins had been destroyed. For his feats Brighthand had been named the Reiksmarshall of the Empire and supreme commander of their forces in the Vampire Wars, and now carried Klingerach , the Sword of Vengeance, Runefang of Solland.
It had all fallen apart. The von Carsteins were in retreat, hardly able to muster an army without the Golden Sons bearing down on them and the Griffon Company marching on their heels.
That had necessitated a change in strategy. Mannfred sent out dozens of necromancers, not to conquer, merely to destroy, to raise hordes of zombies and abandon them just as easily. It seemed that the Golden Sons were limited at least in fuel and numbers, and through this dispersed strategy Druthor had led vampires to swoop down on terrorgeists and hellsteeds, striking swiftly, never trying to hold territory or conduct great rituals, merely to destroy. The Golden Sons had a single mage of power, and he couldn't be everywhere.
It had worked for a time, but when the Golden Sons had reformed they'd learned, able to combat the Vampire Count tactics well enough to make more progress.
Even unorthodox tactics had proved relatively ineffective. The shriek of Mundvard's banshees had made them hesitate, but they'd pushed forward, immune after the first time they'd heard it. Cries that could scare entire regiments to death were ineffective, and the spectral knives of the undead were useful to a point, until the Golden Sons started brandishing small pieces of paper and wax seals, no doubt an item of faith to drive away the spirits.
The Lahmians attempted seduction, and when they managed to get close enough the Golden Sons appeared confused more than anything. Heterneb had gotten close enough to open the throat of one Son with her dagger, but the next day it was found that the warrior was healed and back in battle again.
Madam Kalfon and the Necrarchs had proved slightly more effective, they'd developed new spells from the Lore of Shadows to conceal and obfuscate, spells strong enough to resist even the Sons' piercing sight.
The less said about the Blood Dragons the better. Walach Harkon had begged a new mount from somewhere and gone into battle with his bodyguards, swearing to add Kabor Brighthand's blood to his magical chalice. The leader of the Sons had accepted the vampire's offer of single combat and promptly overcome him, Walach's crimson blade shattering beneath a mighty blow, even the hilt-shard skittering off Kabor's golden plate. Walach's guard had rode forward to the aid of their chief only to be slaughtered by some sort of rotary cannon and Brighthand's Runefang.
Not only were the Sons might warriors, easily a match for most vampires, they seemed to combine the massive strength of a Strigoi with the bladecraft of a Blood Dragon and the tactical intelligence of a von Carstein. While his people were not necessarily overly troubled with morale, the revelation that there were so many who could oppose them openly was a harsh one.
While thousands of humans had been slaughtered, soldiers and civilians alike, only a dozen of the Sons had been brought down. Mannfred had seen to three himself, trapping them in mazes of shadow before lashing out with his blade. Necrarchs had managed to bring down more, even one of their craft with a volley of dark magic, finding themselves under fire themselves by other flying chariots soon after. Druthor and two of his kin had surprised more of the Sons, pinning them down in turn and ripping off their heads, while a few others had been slain in similar circumstances by others.
Now it was time for new action. It was clear that they were losing the war, and without significantly enhanced resources, information, and unity there was no hope. Mannfred had proposed a retreat. None of this had gone to Konrad, he could rage in his castle till the Sons brought it down around him, but Mannfred had rallied his cabal to remove all the resources they could from paintings to magical artefacts to alchemic reagents. This was the first time they'd met openly all together, and Mannfred led the conversation, soothing egos and stroking passions.
Retreat, only to return in time with greater strength. That was what they agreed, all to Mannfred's designs, and swiftly each went their own way. They prepared a spoiling action. By dark magic and black sorceries they would leave traps for the Golden Sons wherever they could. Infected wells with warpstone and vampire blood, drawing up ghouls and making them Crypt Horrors, enormous mutated hungerers, while Arnak would descend with Druthor into the crypts to waken the vampires who'd been sealed away, weakening the locks on their prisons just enough to allow the Vargheist and Varghulfs to break free.
"You too must be away, my apprentice." Mannfred said.
Helman Ghorst nodded and bowed, "By your will, master." and he departed.
More to this spoiling action would be Ghorst and his compatriots attempts to spread more chaos through the Empire. Through plague and pestilence, contamination and sabotage, Mannfred hoped to keep the Golden Sons busy enough not to look for him.
The last element Mannfred had told no one of. Dieter Helsnicht, newly appointed Rector of the Middenheim Guild of Magic, was in truth an agent of the dark, and through Mannfred Helsnicht would lay the groundwork for a religious war between Ulricans and Sigmarites. The Empire would be plunged back into civil war, and the Vampire Counts would be able to gather themselves in secrecy.
But Mannfred wouldn't be here for that.
No, he would go south, sneak through the Badlands, possibly even past Karak Kadrin and then down the eastern side of the World's Edge Mountains. Timor Noctis, the Sword of Unholy Power, forged by smiths of Zhar-Naggrund, would be enough to protect him. South and south again to the Cursed Pit.
South to Nagashizzar and its dark master.
So this was what they were up to. Momentum was repulsed but then switched back with a vengeance.
Who was that spirit asking Manfred for his eyes?
Who was that spirit asking Manfred for his eyes?
More chaste than any knight order ever could do. Big E did good work on that.
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- Location
- United Kingdom
just a spooky ghost no one important
Invadingcat478
Certified Homophone
- Location
- Nekoneko town
the Son of Heaven haven't even appeared and yet the vampire are already being pushed back. Wonder how they'll react when they see his shininess
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Wow this vastly improved my rotten week! It hasn't been so rotten as for me to mind briefly stopping by for this though Thank you, the build up towards the vampire wars ''crescendo'' and the payoff has been great!
Nagash's goons would never thank the tomb kings* for anything but they probably should for this once in terms of keeping the Golden Sons distracted...Mayhaps much more challenge been gifted towards our dear lions ;-)
I'm pleasantly surprised this vampiric batch has mostly avoided the usual Warhammer undead modus operandi of the proverbial circular firing squad! Especially with Manfred at the helm! ...or maybe they've only put a pause on it until they no longer feel at risk of extinction.
Weren't the nechrachs the only vampires that ever maintained a consistently good relationship with nagash and Arkhan and co?
*Or any other independents for that matter like the Cursed Company and/or the Company Of The Damned.
EDIT: Callout to the creatures of Skull Island was nice and fits this fantasy kitchen sink environment* well. I knew those names sounded vaguely familiar
EDIT 2: With an author like you I always feel like my patience (when I can marshal it) is always rewarded, heck I'm not sure I'd be as enthusiastic or have as much to think about if this had somehow been released in a shorted span.
Thank you, the build up towards the vampire wars ''crescendo'' and the payoff has been great!Nagash's goons would never thank the tomb kings* for anything but they probably should for this once in terms of keeping the Golden Sons distracted...Mayhaps much more challenge been gifted towards our dear lions ;-)
I'm pleasantly surprised this vampiric batch has mostly avoided the usual Warhammer undead modus operandi of the proverbial circular firing squad! Especially with Manfred at the helm! ...or maybe they've only put a pause on it until they no longer feel at risk of extinction.
Weren't the nechrachs the only vampires that ever maintained a consistently good relationship with nagash and Arkhan and co?
*Or any other independents for that matter like the Cursed Company and/or the Company Of The Damned.
EDIT: Callout to the creatures of Skull Island was nice and fits this fantasy kitchen sink environment* well. I knew those names sounded vaguely familiar
EDIT 2: With an author like you I always feel like my patience (when I can marshal it) is always rewarded, heck I'm not sure I'd be as enthusiastic or have as much to think about if this had somehow been released in a shorted span.
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- Location
- United Kingdom
it's really mannfred most of all lol, in AoS he's complaining that no one trusts him nd someone says 'Perhaps people only dismiss you because you are so blatantly treacherous. There are entire sagas devoted to your betrayals, you know. I spent months digging through mouldy parchments and dusty tomes, following your trail through history.'
Highly amusing. It is a bit weird that they're so relentlessly treacherous, but I suppose that goes to the point about them actually being dark magic robots rather than people with souls etc.
Anyway, yes afterward the relations are likely to break down, it's an alliance of mutual need and convenience that none of them really want or even could maintain
possibly, I've yet to decide what Arkhan's been up to
Indeed,they work quite well for a generic jungle set of creatures