The Mallus Compliance (Space Marines in Warhammer Fantasy - Chapter Master/Empire Building)
- Thread starter FractiousDay
- Start date
- Fantasy
- Location
- United Kingdom
Exactly that yes
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
I do wonder though, are there Sororitas who don't hate the lions? Like part of the secrecy is about avoiding some sister from revealing the conspiracy isn't it?
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
That description of firey winged lion headed marines (which sounds especially on brand for the biblical themes)probably means knowledge of our various mutants has spread despite them mostly deploying far from civilized areas.
Unfortunatley, like many things this knowledge is fragmented and distorted and makes the lions look worse than they actually are.
This isn't a narrative about valiant heroes but the lions aren't swooping down from the sky and eating disobediant children!
...They aren't right? Thats more something we have to worry about the Mechanicus doing?
Unfortunatley, like many things this knowledge is fragmented and distorted and makes the lions look worse than they actually are.
This isn't a narrative about valiant heroes but the lions aren't swooping down from the sky and eating disobediant children!
...They aren't right? Thats more something we have to worry about the Mechanicus doing?
- Location
- United Kingdom
As far as I'm aware, Soroitas are generally one of the more informed groups. This won't have been fully maintained during their transformation over the last however many years, but there'll certainly be a divide between the senior sisters and the lower ranks regarding their policies. This is one thing I wanted to exposit as this particular interlude goes on
Rumours of mutant space marines would be fairly easy to cover up given that they often wear animal themed armour etc. however, yes, there are the various mutants who've been affected by Mallusian magic,so a Ghur marine would look more bestial. There's not many of them though and they would indeed keep quite secretive
Further efficiencies in the creation of Marines
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
So our losses have been horrific. Much of our innovation has been in trying either mitigate that through proxies or through adjusting the training process.
If the Lions survive turn 17 results {which I think should come after novitate is finished} they may end up losing more high command.
This is likely given some of their proxies *have turned Traitor and Nagash potential god of the dead and shyish is gaining power and has Astartes bodies.
Once we start understanding the spawning pools combined with genethralls, geneseed issues might be solved...and yet that may still not be sufficent as we still stand at less than 300 marines.
Survival might need to take us back to the Inductii days, wherein maybe we may be forced to plop marines straight onto the battlefield right after they cease to be neophytes.
We may need to find ways to increase the growth speed of these organs.
I hope not, truly but I found this video fascinating in terms of some of the options we still haven't yet taken. Like Flash Indoctrination, which well if we get below 100 I don't think I could say no to.
I mean hell we may be forced to do so to make sure we don't lose the memories of our officers of which we have even fewer of now.
That is if our Mechanicus buddies still know how to do this stuff, do they? That is if those dark processes are still even remembered in modern *(8th edition) 40k ?
*read as well motivated meat shields.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8t8mxWv4rZw
History of Celestial Lions Geneseed Loss:
If the Lions survive turn 17 results {which I think should come after novitate is finished} they may end up losing more high command.
This is likely given some of their proxies *have turned Traitor and Nagash potential god of the dead and shyish is gaining power and has Astartes bodies.
Once we start understanding the spawning pools combined with genethralls, geneseed issues might be solved...and yet that may still not be sufficent as we still stand at less than 300 marines.
Survival might need to take us back to the Inductii days, wherein maybe we may be forced to plop marines straight onto the battlefield right after they cease to be neophytes.
We may need to find ways to increase the growth speed of these organs.
I hope not, truly but I found this video fascinating in terms of some of the options we still haven't yet taken. Like Flash Indoctrination, which well if we get below 100 I don't think I could say no to.
I mean hell we may be forced to do so to make sure we don't lose the memories of our officers of which we have even fewer of now.
That is if our Mechanicus buddies still know how to do this stuff, do they? That is if those dark processes are still even remembered in modern *(8th edition) 40k ?
*read as well motivated meat shields.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8t8mxWv4rZw
History of Celestial Lions Geneseed Loss:
FractiousDay member: 7597 said:
Last edited:
Novitiate Interlude 2
- Location
- United Kingdom
The city of Jedu changed. At once it seemed that many people had left, merchants and visitors fleeing, while others, strangers from the deep desert, dour-handed with bright axes, now camped outside the walls.
"I do not desire it. I do not!" Her father had muttered one evening. He had gone out with his sword to show his title, 'Swordbearer', and the mark of his office. Dihya's father had many swords, of course, but that one had been the special one, the one he'd been given by the priest, Ginduris.
It was a strange sword. Some were curved backwards, some from the mountain-folk were even curved forward. Some were straight or narrow, like big knives. The special sword though was a mark of office, Dihya knew. It was a great marvel, wrought from a single piece of black steel that glimmered in a thousand colours when you looked at it in a particular way. Her father had received it, as had many chiefs, when he visited the City of the Gods. The blade itself was wonderous, but the hilt was only plated with gold and the guard an eagle's pointed beak. Dihya had seen much more elaborately decorated blades in her father's collection, or even in the market sometimes, and she thought it a little shameful that he would wear his special sword on parades and ceremonies, even if it was a special present.
The sword didn't even have any jewels.
Dihya's brothers joined in the excitement, practising at their swordplay and begging their father to ride in his host. Her mother was less excited though and spoke long with her father voices hushed and fearful lest Dihya overhear them. Dihya spent much of her time in the courtyards and corridors of her family's home, listening at doors and peeking around corners, trying to piece together the fragments of conversation that floated through the air like drifting sand.
One evening, as she crept close to the door of her father's council chamber, she heard him speaking in low, urgent tones. The voices of the other chiefs mingled with his, their words sharp and quick, like the clashing of swords.
One voice rose above the others and Dihya only heard him clearly as his anger rose, "-are starving, traditions are being trampled underfoot. If we do nothing, we'll lose everything!"
"Do not excite yourself." her father's voice rang out, "Traditions change with time, this is known. Concentrate on what there is to be done now. First, if we are to stand, we must stand against the colonial officials only, not the missionaries or their shrines. That makes it an administrative conflict, this is important."
"He's right, the Lion-men are monsters." said the angry voice.
"We can supply-craft weapons for you." spoke another, their voice muffled as if through cloth.
"Those too, we will need in time I think." her father grumbled.
There was a murmur of agreement, though Dihya could hear the uncertainty in the voices of the other men.
Then, one night, the world seemed to buckle.
Dihya woke to shouting, she went to her window, standing on her chest of clothes to see out of the window and threw open the shutters. There was a clamour of weapons and fires rose on the hills and in the streets. As she watched, shadows ran through the avenues and after them a whole host of people bearing torches and lanterns, their steel glinting in the darkness. The air was thick with smoke, and the flickering light of the flames cast eerie shadows on the walls of the city.
The morning brought more news, for Dihya could see little from her window of the specifics. Her eldest brother and father went out in their armour with their retinue, and when they came back they brought news of evil green fires, of martyred priests and of statuary thrown down.
"There is nothing for it now." her father said during their evening meal, "I must ride to Akkhad I think, and rally the tribes there."
"I could take the children and go into the desert, to shelter with my mother's people." Dihya's mother told him, "We would be safe there, they wouldn't betray kin."
"They are even more pious than the folk here, someone would inform on you, news would get out. Better you remain here, I think." her father replied swiftly.
"I also think it unwise, my lord." said the old seneschal, "For if your family were to flee, what man would fight for you?"
It was decided they would stay, but her father opened his chest of silver and doubled his retinue.
From her window, Dihya could see the outline of the old shrines and the new temples, standing side by side. There had been protests and one nasty riot when the Iterators arrived, years ago. One, a southlander with a black staff and a rich stole proclaimed the deaths of the old superstitions and the renewal of all things. The crowd had started singing though, Dihya had heard it from her window, the old songs of worship. Then the shooting had started and the shouting and the servants had come to gather all the children in the courtyard while her father saddled his horse.
Now, in what seemed a mirror to that time, her father rode in again, his robes stained with soot and blood.
"It will be war." he promised her mother, "They have slain the priests and I could do nothing to prevent it! We must be with this, for they will wash us aside in their wrath either way."
Dihya quailed at the words but once again, she was swiftly ushered away.
There were no more outings, no more trips to the market or feasts in the common square of the city.
But Dihya could still hear them. There were cries and shouts, sometimes fires and her father and brother would ride out and return bloodied. There came strange sounds like the hammering of men against stone, and her brother said the rebels had taken mattocks to the statue of the Emperor and laid it low, crushing a building as it fell.
To Dihya it was horrible. She was kept in the house with her mother and grandmother and younger brothers. No news came, but that which her father might speak softly to her mother from time to time, or the boasts of her elders about the valiant attacks on missionary stations across Araby.
Once, they were taken out to look from the walls at their father, riding bravely about the parading army on his horse, sword flashing and he rallied the men. Dihya couldn't hear a word of what he said, but he looked very splendid all the same.
The fighting men of Araby were arrayed brilliantly in shields of brazen copper and spears of iron. Their scarfs were blue and their hauberks twinkled across the sand like the stars in the sky. Her brother was there too and he bore the banner of Aghiles, the markings of that old king's family and the calligraphy that represented his house clear and brave as it fluttered in the wind.
"Araby Lives!" the army cried, and Diyha jumped for joy in her ignorance, joining in the cry. It seemed that such an army was invincible, that their spears and shields would bear them through any battle. It seemed that they might march and sing and find victory through a thousand foes.
They all marched away and the city was quiet.
For a brief time the excitement remained. Dihya was allowed out of the house, under escort of the slaves of course, and she went to the new temple to see the ruins. There was something that drew her there, but all she saw was an old woman sweeping by lantern light, her brush scattering the sand and ashes of the ruin.
"Why do you do it?" Dihya asked.
An owl hooted in response, somewhere up in the singed rafters.
"None here rightly judged this matter, child." the old woman said, "But it is given to all of us to make what justice we can, where we can. I am old, you are young, but one day you may learn this. Remember that, when the time comes…"
Night was falling as Dihya journeyed back. Away through the streets she went, past the burning and the looting, past parades of militiamen, really just boys only a few years older than she was.
"Swiftly, young mistress." her slave urged her, but swiftly they went in any case and soon enough she was back in the villa.
That night Dihya slept only fitfully. She imagined golden monsters devouring her father, she saw them ripping into her brother with claws and their little soldiers, evil men with black skin like smoke and glowing red eyes, fighting with the Arabyan army. She saw dragons swooping down and breathing their fire upon the sand, turning it to glass with their terrible weapons, and she dreamt of strange undulating creatures which crept through the sand, armoured backs pushing it aside as they slithered.
Dihya woke to a sweat and shouting. Her door burst open!
"Mistress, you must-" a slave called, then there was a flash of red and a great weight fell against her, knocking her off her bed. She felt something on her cheek, slimy and hot, then another figure appeared in the door.
The monster was tall, black armoured and wreathed in a cloak of darkness. It raised a harsh white sword that shone like a star. Above, crowned as if a terrible king, three red eyes glared down at her.
"I do not desire it. I do not!" Her father had muttered one evening. He had gone out with his sword to show his title, 'Swordbearer', and the mark of his office. Dihya's father had many swords, of course, but that one had been the special one, the one he'd been given by the priest, Ginduris.
It was a strange sword. Some were curved backwards, some from the mountain-folk were even curved forward. Some were straight or narrow, like big knives. The special sword though was a mark of office, Dihya knew. It was a great marvel, wrought from a single piece of black steel that glimmered in a thousand colours when you looked at it in a particular way. Her father had received it, as had many chiefs, when he visited the City of the Gods. The blade itself was wonderous, but the hilt was only plated with gold and the guard an eagle's pointed beak. Dihya had seen much more elaborately decorated blades in her father's collection, or even in the market sometimes, and she thought it a little shameful that he would wear his special sword on parades and ceremonies, even if it was a special present.
The sword didn't even have any jewels.
Dihya's brothers joined in the excitement, practising at their swordplay and begging their father to ride in his host. Her mother was less excited though and spoke long with her father voices hushed and fearful lest Dihya overhear them. Dihya spent much of her time in the courtyards and corridors of her family's home, listening at doors and peeking around corners, trying to piece together the fragments of conversation that floated through the air like drifting sand.
One evening, as she crept close to the door of her father's council chamber, she heard him speaking in low, urgent tones. The voices of the other chiefs mingled with his, their words sharp and quick, like the clashing of swords.
One voice rose above the others and Dihya only heard him clearly as his anger rose, "-are starving, traditions are being trampled underfoot. If we do nothing, we'll lose everything!"
"Do not excite yourself." her father's voice rang out, "Traditions change with time, this is known. Concentrate on what there is to be done now. First, if we are to stand, we must stand against the colonial officials only, not the missionaries or their shrines. That makes it an administrative conflict, this is important."
"He's right, the Lion-men are monsters." said the angry voice.
"We can supply-craft weapons for you." spoke another, their voice muffled as if through cloth.
"Those too, we will need in time I think." her father grumbled.
There was a murmur of agreement, though Dihya could hear the uncertainty in the voices of the other men.
Then, one night, the world seemed to buckle.
Dihya woke to shouting, she went to her window, standing on her chest of clothes to see out of the window and threw open the shutters. There was a clamour of weapons and fires rose on the hills and in the streets. As she watched, shadows ran through the avenues and after them a whole host of people bearing torches and lanterns, their steel glinting in the darkness. The air was thick with smoke, and the flickering light of the flames cast eerie shadows on the walls of the city.
The morning brought more news, for Dihya could see little from her window of the specifics. Her eldest brother and father went out in their armour with their retinue, and when they came back they brought news of evil green fires, of martyred priests and of statuary thrown down.
"There is nothing for it now." her father said during their evening meal, "I must ride to Akkhad I think, and rally the tribes there."
"I could take the children and go into the desert, to shelter with my mother's people." Dihya's mother told him, "We would be safe there, they wouldn't betray kin."
"They are even more pious than the folk here, someone would inform on you, news would get out. Better you remain here, I think." her father replied swiftly.
"I also think it unwise, my lord." said the old seneschal, "For if your family were to flee, what man would fight for you?"
It was decided they would stay, but her father opened his chest of silver and doubled his retinue.
From her window, Dihya could see the outline of the old shrines and the new temples, standing side by side. There had been protests and one nasty riot when the Iterators arrived, years ago. One, a southlander with a black staff and a rich stole proclaimed the deaths of the old superstitions and the renewal of all things. The crowd had started singing though, Dihya had heard it from her window, the old songs of worship. Then the shooting had started and the shouting and the servants had come to gather all the children in the courtyard while her father saddled his horse.
Now, in what seemed a mirror to that time, her father rode in again, his robes stained with soot and blood.
"It will be war." he promised her mother, "They have slain the priests and I could do nothing to prevent it! We must be with this, for they will wash us aside in their wrath either way."
Dihya quailed at the words but once again, she was swiftly ushered away.
There were no more outings, no more trips to the market or feasts in the common square of the city.
But Dihya could still hear them. There were cries and shouts, sometimes fires and her father and brother would ride out and return bloodied. There came strange sounds like the hammering of men against stone, and her brother said the rebels had taken mattocks to the statue of the Emperor and laid it low, crushing a building as it fell.
To Dihya it was horrible. She was kept in the house with her mother and grandmother and younger brothers. No news came, but that which her father might speak softly to her mother from time to time, or the boasts of her elders about the valiant attacks on missionary stations across Araby.
Once, they were taken out to look from the walls at their father, riding bravely about the parading army on his horse, sword flashing and he rallied the men. Dihya couldn't hear a word of what he said, but he looked very splendid all the same.
The fighting men of Araby were arrayed brilliantly in shields of brazen copper and spears of iron. Their scarfs were blue and their hauberks twinkled across the sand like the stars in the sky. Her brother was there too and he bore the banner of Aghiles, the markings of that old king's family and the calligraphy that represented his house clear and brave as it fluttered in the wind.
"Araby Lives!" the army cried, and Diyha jumped for joy in her ignorance, joining in the cry. It seemed that such an army was invincible, that their spears and shields would bear them through any battle. It seemed that they might march and sing and find victory through a thousand foes.
They all marched away and the city was quiet.
For a brief time the excitement remained. Dihya was allowed out of the house, under escort of the slaves of course, and she went to the new temple to see the ruins. There was something that drew her there, but all she saw was an old woman sweeping by lantern light, her brush scattering the sand and ashes of the ruin.
"Why do you do it?" Dihya asked.
An owl hooted in response, somewhere up in the singed rafters.
"None here rightly judged this matter, child." the old woman said, "But it is given to all of us to make what justice we can, where we can. I am old, you are young, but one day you may learn this. Remember that, when the time comes…"
Night was falling as Dihya journeyed back. Away through the streets she went, past the burning and the looting, past parades of militiamen, really just boys only a few years older than she was.
"Swiftly, young mistress." her slave urged her, but swiftly they went in any case and soon enough she was back in the villa.
That night Dihya slept only fitfully. She imagined golden monsters devouring her father, she saw them ripping into her brother with claws and their little soldiers, evil men with black skin like smoke and glowing red eyes, fighting with the Arabyan army. She saw dragons swooping down and breathing their fire upon the sand, turning it to glass with their terrible weapons, and she dreamt of strange undulating creatures which crept through the sand, armoured backs pushing it aside as they slithered.
Dihya woke to a sweat and shouting. Her door burst open!
"Mistress, you must-" a slave called, then there was a flash of red and a great weight fell against her, knocking her off her bed. She felt something on her cheek, slimy and hot, then another figure appeared in the door.
The monster was tall, black armoured and wreathed in a cloak of darkness. It raised a harsh white sword that shone like a star. Above, crowned as if a terrible king, three red eyes glared down at her.
I thought of the everchosen Archaon at the end.
It's going to end even worse than the thunder warriors trouncing the rebels at Gaduare.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
Huh, looks like they're working with the Skaven
- Location
- California
That means Skaven get a front row seat to the slaughter. Do you think they might almost be uncomfortable with the realization that the Marines will put down rebellion like a farmer harvests wheat or weeds? Probably not, they lack sufficient Empathy, but the idea that Skaven realize Marines cannot be outnumbered is a fun one.
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The rebels of Istvann 3 say otherwise, but that was whole hab blocks of regular humans under psychic trance, and the ratio to kill marines was about 200 unaugmented humans to one marine.
I think an army of 400,000 Skaven or more...sufficently motivated by fear of a worse death at the hands of their leaders... could genuinely pose a threat to us if allowed to engage in hand to hand.
Remember also though that Skaven are petty cowardly , if we start seeing them in the open *it will be because they think they can win*.
Plus this slaughter of the Arabyans in itself could help , them through looting, distraction, etc.
Basically I just advise not underestimating how dangerous they are or at least can be. They are not just slightly more articulate beastmen. They destroyed the planet in canon.
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
If they have been supplied Skaven weapons and tech + maybe some imperial tech then I think they will still all die but losses may be much higher than expected + maybe some land poisoning.
Good old proxies to test out the prototypes.
- Location
- United Kingdom
While presumably some Chapters know about how this process works, I'm not sure they'd be able to replicate it in the same way. During the Great Crusade you had whole legions composed of Inductii, whereas for example when the Blood Angels are destroyed at the Devastation of Baal they use their successors to replenish their numbers, they don't start with the Inductii process. This may mean that they don't remember how to do it, or it may have been because Gulliman just arrived with the Primaris so they didn't need them.
In any case, Thalis the Chief Apothecary has been messing about with genetic stuff in the background so maybe he's been able to grow a geneseed tree or something.
Reminder to self to write the raid on the Heart of the Jungle.
It's actually quite a cool idea really. Very much within the ritual nature of space marines. I'll write an interlude perhaps and then you can vote on it.
You've got a Genetorium and the Magi Biologis, and you brought a buffed up Apothecarium in the chargen, so I'm not going to deny it as an option. I may put it to a vote after the next turn given that your numbers are low.
I probably wouldn't require it as an action, we can cover it in narrative.
On Mallus stuff vs space marines generally, as demonstrated by Aghiles, the Flesh and subsequently by Mannfred, you can definetly kill them, and with sufficient force its not even that hard to do. The trick would be not to try and kill them openly or in battle, or if you do, try to rely on overwhelming force. Conventional attacks just aren't really useful.
In this case, the Skaven are partly funding this and other anti-marine activities to try and experiment with their weapons. If they've made a 'Warpstone Lascannon' by using warpstone to channel energy through a prism or something to make a mini-warp lightning cannon, that could certainly kill marines in power armour if they didn't get to cover etc.
If you put all the skaven and all the marines in the same flat plain and had them fight, sure the weight of skaven numbers could win out. However, that wouldn't be how it would work really given that they wouldn't be able to fit millions of skaven anywhere. What would be more likely to happen is that Skaven use their superior numbers, good mobility, and occasionally powerful weapons to pick at the Space Marines over time. They don't need to blow the moon up as they did in cannon, they could rather use sabotage and reduce the Marines in that manner.
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Dream Logic
An offseason swallow
- Location
- In transit
It occurs to me that the Space Marines were likely the least suited to bring this world to heel. After all, they are wasted without peer opponents or critical infrastructure to target.
Better it had been the Guard with their number, the Admech's industry, the Soriatas to convert, or the Inquisition to do what they could.
It seems this whole story has been a slow walk into tragedy, and honestly that's pretty satisfying.
Better it had been the Guard with their number, the Admech's industry, the Soriatas to convert, or the Inquisition to do what they could.
It seems this whole story has been a slow walk into tragedy, and honestly that's pretty satisfying.
- Location
- California
I mean, I vaguely remember the rolls were not in our favor, so it really does feel like an uphill battle.
Dream Logic
An offseason swallow
- Location
- In transit
Been doing a reread and it kind of builds towards the impression The Lions were mostly doomed from the start due to everything spiraling out of control.
Which is a bit frustrating from a player perspective but works on the more narrative bent the quest is closing towards.
- Location
- United Kingdom
Well, it depends really what you wanted to do. The 'vision' I had for this story at the start was the idea of Marines blasting their way through a Dwarf force which had arrived at the gates of K8P etc. The Dwarves would want their ancient hold back and the Marines would care very little and kill them all. This amused me greatly which was why I wrote it. I've not been forcing you as players to do such things, but of course we've had some 'misunderstandings'. I don't like the idea of nice marines, they're not chill dudes, they're inhuman monsters.
If you'd picked other groups you'd have had a fundamentally different series of developments. An Admech quest would have been more focused on resource acquisition, economic planning, research and so on. An Inquisitor would have been more like an RPG with a single character trying to influence groups, rather than conquering them.
Of course, those are the roads less travelled. You picked the choice with the greatest capacity for conquest, the Emperor's Angels of Death. This was, in part, predictable, given that the Chapter Master style of quest is popular and Marines are the most popular faction.
I will also admit that one element of the danger and difficulty I've enjoyed with this quest was to continually put pressure on the Lions to see what they'd do and how they'd end up. What sort of monsters will they become by the end of it?
These are somewhat more difficult to answer. As above, I've been wanting to put pressure on. Sometimes, things have gone quite well. None of the big powers have really moved against you yet and you've been occupied with regional conflicts and conquest. There have been times when I've employed authorial fiat, sure, but that's my job as QM, to make the quest entertaining.
To some extent, you can rely on meta-gaming to assume that the Lions will never suffer too many losses because they're the main characters. Individuals might die off, but for example I've invested a lot of writing time into Amra, the most well developed and significant marine, to have him be killed by some random greater demon etc.
Indeed, the rolls sometimes haven't been in your favour, but I'd also point to particular decisions which have been made or not made which have complicated the various affairs and make things more difficult for you in differnet ways.
It should feel difficult though, it should feel like the Lions are being ground down, and that should be evoked in the narrative. Natohk the Chaplain hasn't objected yet to any of the various heresies you've been doing because he's feeling pretty desperate too, as are the other officers, so I'm glad that it feels difficult and that that is also satisfying. I'm aware some elements haven't been as satisfying, and sure, fair, but I want to write stuff with themes, not like millions of words of bolter porn and 'what relic do you want this specific guy to have' like some stories.
16 characters
Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
- Location
- Alta California
- Pronouns
- They/Them
EDIT: Walked away to eat for like 20 minutes and got Eshined by the OP, wasn't trying to be redundant.
Maybe they would have learned combined magics from the dragon blooded of Grand Cathay , or found a way to kidnapp from the White Tower of Hoeth but...
If you do end up writing that, i'd be on board and think they'd be more challenged psychologically than the lions just by the sheer amount of ''the warp does not work that way'' phenomena at hand here.
I think part of this sense of 'slow walking into tragedy' comes with most of the W verses (sans bloodbowl)being an inherently tragic settings with themes of even the greatest and strongest people having vulnerabilities which will drag them down...being like baked in may have helped?
Even people like the Silent King or Teclics et al. have reasons to have bouts of extreme depression and self-doubt in these settings.
That said as for how things panned out for this quest specifically..
I think that yeah, going for space marines worried me from the begining.
Traditionally, most Astartes cling on and don't easily grow beyond a meat headed child soldier mentality of essentially 'we only exist to kill for the emperor, but we are at least the best at it and very proud of that so suck it and polish our armor'.
EDIT: Or as the OP put it, marines are inhuman monsters, they just happen to usually have a human looking face attached to them is all.
There are nuances and lots of exceptions but not many (arogance wise) among the choices we had.
The Raptors with their intense pragmatism or The Ultramarines or Salamanders who have lots of self-reliance and empathy and logistics Experience, MIGHT have come out of this a little better.
Plus ultramarines and their successors (shout out to the mentors) have more experience with managing large serf forces.
Potentially an admech led force which was second most popular could have ended up even worse.
Due to being as vehemently anti-psycher they are, aia think they would have they'd be constantly paranoid and have genocidal feeling towards local populations.
In that scenario they probably couldn't afford to wipe out so much potential manpower while being so outnumbered though, so lots and lots of servitors made from anyone with too much of a side eye and not enough power would I think result.
I feel you. If it's any consolation on the tragedy avoided side I'd bet they would have reacted to 'manifest psychers' even worse though because it could result in their librarians losing like 90percent of their disciplines suddenly.
Maybe they would have learned combined magics from the dragon blooded of Grand Cathay , or found a way to kidnapp from the White Tower of Hoeth but...
If you do end up writing that, i'd be on board and think they'd be more challenged psychologically than the lions just by the sheer amount of ''the warp does not work that way'' phenomena at hand here.
Sorry for the long ramble, but this is one of my favorite quests and thinking about it's meta aspects is fun for me.
I think part of this sense of 'slow walking into tragedy' comes with most of the W verses (sans bloodbowl)being an inherently tragic settings with themes of even the greatest and strongest people having vulnerabilities which will drag them down...being like baked in may have helped?
Even people like the Silent King or Teclics et al. have reasons to have bouts of extreme depression and self-doubt in these settings.
That said as for how things panned out for this quest specifically..
I think that yeah, going for space marines worried me from the begining.
Traditionally, most Astartes cling on and don't easily grow beyond a meat headed child soldier mentality of essentially 'we only exist to kill for the emperor, but we are at least the best at it and very proud of that so suck it and polish our armor'.
EDIT: Or as the OP put it, marines are inhuman monsters, they just happen to usually have a human looking face attached to them is all.
There are nuances and lots of exceptions but not many (arogance wise) among the choices we had.
The Raptors with their intense pragmatism or The Ultramarines or Salamanders who have lots of self-reliance and empathy and logistics Experience, MIGHT have come out of this a little better.
Plus ultramarines and their successors (shout out to the mentors) have more experience with managing large serf forces.
Potentially an admech led force which was second most popular could have ended up even worse.
Due to being as vehemently anti-psycher they are, aia think they would have they'd be constantly paranoid and have genocidal feeling towards local populations.
In that scenario they probably couldn't afford to wipe out so much potential manpower while being so outnumbered though, so lots and lots of servitors made from anyone with too much of a side eye and not enough power would I think result.
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They might also just not have cared. The Admech, especially when they get into more heterodox traditions, can be extremely loose in the normal imperial things, they're open to trading with xenos in many instances etc
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Sick and tired of being Sick and Tired
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{confession that this user does not actually know much of anything about non-dark-mechanicum renegades who may still care about the emperor-as omnisiah}
I know there are Hereteks out there who aren't daemon summoning duders, but where would I go to learn more about them?
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Okay so I finally relocated what I was talking about way back then. Basically I was thinking of the guys who's ruins and maybe tech/ psychic echo created House Delaque of Necromunda.
House Delaque - Warhammer 40k - Lexicanum
Silent Ones (Gods) - Warhammer 40k - Lexicanum
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Then again wether they can truly be called xenos or if they are some non deamonic but possessive warp entities or something else (idk c'tan adjacent maybe?)even more poorly classified by imperial standards is hard to say.
Regarding Radical Admech factions
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Heresy, in any religious organisation, is merely diversion from established and accepted doctrine. There is the DarkMech, who will still have some doctrines but have significantly diverged and ignore a lot of the previously established points like 'dont bind a demon to your toaster', but there are also hundreds of sects of different types. Some sects are orthodox, and follow the Conclave of Mars' dictates closely, or maybe consult Mars before doing things. Other sects cleave to their specific Forge World, while still others are off doing their own thing. You have, for example, the Moirae Schism where some tech-mystics thought they could interpret prophecy from the minute variations in the Astronomicon. Comparably, Metallica have this thing about electricity and think its really cool, while there was also a small cult who worshiped lubricant above other substances. Metallica didn't get purged but had their own civil war which produced the Fulgurite and Corpuscarii variants of electropriests, while the lubed dudes got killed.
There will be extensive discussions of how and where and why doing stuff with xenotech is acceptable. These might be moral or spiritual questions about whether it's permissable to use a xeno bomb to blow up a xeno, or they might be practical questions about to what extent can we study xeno weapons to understand them better and defeat them? I mentioned 'the Admech' but that doesn't really clarify who exactly is doing these things. For a start, Admech personnel routinely raid Necron worlds to steal their tech, and use it afterwards. The Xenarites of Stygies VIII are the most relevant example here, but to be a Xenarite is really just a doctrine in and of itself. Its the same as we use words like 'Horusian', 'Thorian' and so on to describe Inquisitorial traditions. A Xenarite might, for example, define xenotech in different ways. Is Wraithbone a Eldar 'technology'? Or is it merely a material which was discovered by the Eldar race, which can therefore be utilised by humans. After all, Orks use wood and metal, Tau use plasma, that doesn't prevent humans from using such things certainly. Alternatively, of course it would be permissable to study Necron xenotech to understand and replicate it. You're not using a phase shroud or a necron gun, you're just understanding the principles so you can build your own gauss cannon.
I would also draw a distinction between factions who legitimately believe, as a matter of their interpretion of doctrine, that dealing with xeno stuff is ok, and not heretekal, with those factions who know perfectly well that they're dealing with forbidden things but are compelled by neccessity to do so, for example the agreement between the Admech and the Dark Eldar to get the latter to help repair the Golden Throne.
To relate this to this quest and the conversations I touchedon in the Tech Guard interlude, your Tech Priests may negociate these religious differences in the following ways:
- Everything Elven or Dwarven is merely adhuman developments, therefore can be copied without contravening doctrine because it ultimately comes from human ingenuity
- Warpstone, and other new materials, are merely the synthesis or technical discovery of new processes and elements, and are therefore permitted to be used in Imperial tech
- 'Magic', or variations in psykery, are permitted for use by Imperium personnel due to the efforts of the Lions to resolve saftey questions etc, as it turns out, one local variation is related to electricity (Azyr) and is therefore a great miracle, actually
- Xeno techniques such as Slann engineering are remnants of the Old Ones, and can be studied and potentially replicated to improve Imperial genecraft etc
- Obsidium or Blackstone is well known and reasonably well studied in the Imperium, eg Cadia's Blackstone pylons. Therefore the use of Blackstone on Mallus is also permitted
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