Omake delivery! Thanks to random NPC for his assistance. Here we gooo
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Sergeant's Log – Damned if I Know When
Sometimes, we need a reminder just how dangerous this planet is. It's easy to forget when you live behind the kind of defenses that would barely tremble if you threw anything less than a volley of Deathstrikes at them. And even then, good luck getting past the batteries of anti-air guns and better-than-battleship void shields. There's always a risk, of course. There's always a chance that a spider might jump through the wall and end your life in an instant. There's a chance that a great migration of unspeakable beasts might charge straight through the walls and not give a single damn about whatever is in their way. But sometimes— sometimes— the greatest risk to your life doesn't come from outside the walls, but from within.
And sometimes, fate, the planet and the chaotic powers themselves conspire to turn your life into a giant smoldering hole in the ground.
That's vaguely what happened to us. The first sign that something was wrong is that all the cats had straight up disappeared. Anyone with the freedom and wherewithal to get out of dodge were wise to do so, some even picked everything up and followed their feline friends right onto the first trains out of town. The rest of us weren't so lucky.
Of course, we didn't really have a choice. Guard will do as Guard does. When your job is to kill as many of the bad guys as you can before they kill you, you don't really expect to have much in the way of life expectancy. That said, we do it better than anyone else, that's for damn sure. I'd bet my firstborn that you couldn't find a more talented, well-trained and disciplined bunch than us. Didn't help save us, though. Nothing short of a miracle could have done that. Cheers and tears for the lost city of Arbor! Pour one more out for our lost home. There wasn't a damn thing to do for it. Not a single damn thing.
At least it was over relatively quickly. I was worried for my soul for a second there when the clouds started turning all twisty and Ben started speaking in tongues. Had to put a bullet in his gut and another in his head when his body got back up. The wards held just long enough to let us do that, at least. They didn't help when Avernus reminded us just how she could wipe the lot of us off her face if we ever pissed her off enough. I saw the sky open up and the fireballs fall. It was over before it ever really began, Emperor bless.
Now is the part when you ask, 'But Sergeant George, if you were summarily obliterated by Avernus deciding to go all cut-off-a-limb-to-save-the-body, how in Mittens' fluffy keester are you recording all of this? Did we finally go too far? Necromantic Servo-skulls!?'
To which I answer 'Damned if I know.'
As I understand it, the City of Arbor got turned into a gigantic hole in the ground by fusion-spitting turtles and other equally absurd forms of Avernite wildlife. Well, looks like that might have been what done it. You see, when I woke up- me and the other folks who managed to survive getting their souls ate- I was in a very dark underground place. I knew it couldn't be demons on account of me not needing to shoot anything trying to turn my memories into trail mix, and also because everything actually made sense and nothing was making my eyes hurt just looking at it. It wasn't long till we got some lights on and found ourselves in probably the biggest cavern I'd ever seen. It was huge. Huuuuge. And there was a great, big shoreline nearby that met sea water as black as pitch and just as awful to catch a whiff of. Of course, it turns out that that's just because it was dark as all get out and because there was a great big steamer perched ashore belching out all manner of awful smoke.
First thing I thought to myself was: 'wow, the church really got this whole afterlife thing wrong.' The next thing I thought was that whoever was crazy enough to build a boat on Avernus was either crazy or an Ork. Turns out it WAS Orks! They weren't exactly expecting us to be armed though, and the thing was barely more than a dinghy anyway, so that wasn't a problem. Lost a few survivors, but still, not bad. The firefight managed to attract the attention of another ship, though. This one was flying Avernite colors, and where one appeared, so did a half dozen others. Because of course, if anyone is hard enough to survive living on a weird underground lake thing long enough to build boats to conquer it, it's Avernites.
That, as the first vessel's captain later told me, is just a little bit inaccurate. It's less that we'd found ourselves stranded along a weird underground lake and more that we'd found ourselves stranded along a weird underground sea. The captain, a swarthy old matron with a lasrifle for a peg leg by the name of Glenda also informed me that they weren't exactly alone. Not really. There's a whole city down here, she tells me. A whole Emperor-damned city. I thought she was pulling my leg and I told her as much, so she just points over the horizon and tells me to keep an eye on it as we set sail for home.
Home, as I would later find out, was a place that the locals started calling Stygia.
How did Stygia get where Stygia got? Why was there a whole damn city sitting underground and nobody thought to tell anybody else? You got me! You got all of us. Nothing about it makes sense. The whole thing looked like it'd been plucked off the surface and half-fused with one of the cavern's walls. I thought I really had gone crazy when I saw a great big lighthouse peek up over the lip of the world like an angry red eye, but there it was, sure as shit.
To her credit, Captain Glenda thought it was all pretty cave-diving nuts too. As she tells it, we're not the first batch to show up down here, but we're definitely the second biggest. The first was apparently the folks who found Stygia to begin with. Glenda's from that batch, by the by. Says a lot that even she thinks the whole 'underground city' thing is a bit nuts, but from what she tells me, the story goes like this.
This isn't the first time Avernus has excused a city from existence. Typically that involves deep ones, magma wurms, demonic incursions and the devouring of the latter by the former. At some point- and this is where things get weird- Stygia was also destroyed. But this is the thing. Every record I've been able to pull off local sources records that Stygia was founded out in the Everglades somewhere around two-and-a-half hundred years ago and then promptly lost contact with everything else not long after that.
A while ago, Glenda and her folks got caught up in a certain accident back in the Bayou and found themselves not far from the city. Since then, they've been making do and trying to explore as much of the area as they can, rescuing people like ourselves who've found themselves stranded out in the middle of nowhere. As far as they've been able to tell, this whole place is located somewhere in the Caverns. Somewhere really, really deep in the caverns. Until now, there's been no way back up to the surface—or I guess I should say, there's been no easy way back to the surface. Travelling into the caverns is suicidal enough from the surface, but from down here it's even worse. Comparatively, the wildlife down here is downright normal. Giant crabs, huge sea serpents that spit lightning, living stormclouds—normal, Avernus things. Relatively speaking. Sea life's weird. Plenty to eat at least, lots of mushrooms.
The Orks are a recent addition, seems. They came down here not long after the first time Garkill stomped his waaaagh across the planet and seem to have acclimated well to life underground. I know we got reports of some of the bastards scrambling into the caves when Garkill screwed off; I'd thought they were all dead. Looks like Orks are a bit too stubborn for that. They've got a camp way out east, but the Stygians've largely been keeping them in check.
Stygia's a weird place. Full of people who are about as pale as folks who've not seen the sun in a few decades. They've got a project to try and build an artificial star to light up this little corner of the underneath, but as far as I know, that's still a pipe dream. Otherwise, though, problems are basically the same as what you get on the surface. Monstrous wildlife, occasional orks, terrible things lurking beneath the surface of the water. Other than the fact that everyone seems to have come down here after one city-obliterating accident or another, and the fact that I can't remember a city called Stygia ever existing on the surface, that is.
I did mention that there wasn't a way back up to the surface. I also said that was until now. Of course, if there really wasn't a way out, there wouldn't be a point to recording this. It turns out that when Arbor got turned into a smoldering crater, something deep in the city went off in a big way and blew a hole straight down this way. We're going to be navigating up through the crevasse soon. Hopefully I'll be able to tell everyone about what we've found in-person, but I've lived long enough on Avernus to know to take precautions.
As always, may the Emperor Preserve and Protect.
-Sergeant George Aeneus
The Stygian Sea – From 'A Brief Examination of the Helheim System – Volume X'
There is little about Avernus that can be considered ordinary even at the best of times. The spiders are responsible for more casualties per annum than ork infestations found on other worlds, and even after several hundred years and the establishment of a planetary capital the likes of which was scarcely ever seen in the old Imperium, most of the planet still remains unexplored. Orbital entry over unsurveyed regions is highly restricted for fear of losing voidcraft both mercantile and military to local wildlife with capabilities that defy all good sense. For reasons yet unknown, the planetary population produces more Psykers than any in the sector, and those who do awaken tend to wield powers of levels utterly unthinkable in the Imperium of old.
Compared to these already bizarre qualities however, the unique nature of the planet's time-space continuum is even more absurd. The time-strewn plains and the mysterious, spatially displaced battlestations are both simultaneously well-documented and poorly understood. Added more recently to the list of 'things about Avernus which no right-minded scholar could hope to comprehend' is the planet's extensive network of caverns. These caves are mysterious and nonsensical, with regions that seem subject to rules and physical laws utterly alien to conventional understanding. It is as if the world of Avernus is simply a vaguely terrestrial shell stretched over a fragment of raw Immaterium and molded into a planet-shaped celestial body. It should then come to no surprise to anyone with even passing familiarity with the Helheim system that the region described herein not only exists, but is inhabited by a smattering of the local Avernite population.
The Stygian Sea is a newly discovered feature (as of ~300 years After Settlement by local reckoning) of Avernus' underground. Passage to this section of the Caverns was found only after the obliteration of the city of Arbor. It is currently theorized that the unique confluence of warp-forces and raw firepower that levelled the city is primarily responsible for the formation of this due to its peculiar properties (Reference section 'Major Features', subsection 'The Aeneid Gate' below). As its name suggests, the Stygian Sea is essentially a subterranean ocean located somewhere within Avernus' caverns. Its exact location is unknown (see again under Major Features: 'The Aeneid Gate'), as its full width and breadth, but what is known of its wildlife, its physical features and its other unique properties are noted below.
Major Features:
The Aeneid Gate:
So-named in honor of Sgt. George Aeneus, who bravely gave his life attempting to traverse the Gate and in so doing, provided valuable testimony on the domain that lies beyond it. The Aeneid Gate is located beneath the ruins of the lost city of Arbor, though its true span is difficult to determine due to the rubble and detritus surrounding it. At first glance, the Gate is unremarkable; if you were not specifically searching for it, it would be impossible to distinguish the gaping gulf of encroaching and impenetrable shadow from the surrounding murk. Superficial contact with the Gate does not seem inherently dangerous, though long-term studies have yet to be conducted. However, crossing over its central plane unprotected results in the immediate disintegration of all living matter. It has been described as a sort of turning to dust, leaving only the inanimate behind.
Preliminary study has determined that the Aeneid Gate is likely some manner of region of twisted space-time not unlike the aforementioned Time-Twisted Plains. However, the effect seems to be concentrated on a narrow region at the effect's plane of symmetry. Attempting to dig around the Gate has revealed that there is nothing physically 'below' it but earth and a minor spider infestation. Traversing safely through the Gate is possible, though difficult. An expeditionary team consisting of a small number of Black Irons trainees were successfully dropped through the gate aboard a Testudo-class tank with its void shield fully deployed. The casualty rate of seventy-five percent, accounting for both the departing and returning trips, is both unacceptable and impractical, and work is underway to develop a more reliable means of traversing the gate.
It is theorized that the Aeneid Gate is the result of some unusual interaction between the forces which Avernus wielded to level Arbor, and the raw psychic power unleashed by the Alpha-Plus class responsible for the city's loss. By some hitherto unknown mechanism, the resulting gateway was not only stable, but did not, in fact, connect to the twisting madness of the Warp, but somewhere else entirely. Similar gateways were said to have appeared during previous incidents of Deep One activity, but were temporary in duration. It is unknown whether the Aeneid Gate is now a permanent fixture, or whether it may someday close. The Adeptus Astra Telepathica has begun research into the nature of the gate and whether it may be necessary to employ some means of maintaining it. As of now, a small and improvised research facility has been established on the site by use of portable fortresses in order to facilitate further study. All the information compiled here has been assembled by the Black Iron expedition for analysis and processing.
General Features of The Stygian Sea:
The first thing that a visitor to Stygia notices is that it is extremely dark. Bereft of the light of the sun, there is little to illuminate the underground aside from what you bring yourself. The physical features of the underground sea can easily be extrapolated from there. It is dark and cool, and so there is frequently a proclivity of fog hanging over the surface of the pitch-black waters. The lack of light has led the wildlife to develop their own means of illumination, and bioluminescent moss, fungi and animal life is abundant. Aside from this, the only sources of light appear to be from subterranean magma flows, underground volcanoes, and eerie regions of ocean which are home to large colonies of glowing algae, fungi or stone.
However, Avernus would not be itself if it were not home to the bizarre, lethal, and bizarrely lethal. Aside from the sheer size of the Stygian sea (its full size could not be determined from our expedition), it is also home to a variety of dangerous flora, fauna and apparently sapient weather patterns. Specific notable examples of local wildlife will be covered in a later publication, once additional expeditions are mounted and samples are collected.
The danger posed by the wildlife is relatively pedestrian by Avernite standards. The primary obstacles to further exploration of the Sea are twofold. The first is the bizarre spatial 'currents' which run throughout the Sea, and only grow more intense and more common the further one progresses from shore. These currents are not unlike their oceanic cousins, but are significantly more difficult to avoid and infinitely more difficult to predict. It was only by a small miracle that the expeditionary team was able to recover from an accidental sojourn through one of the so-called Ether Currents.
The second is a phenomena which the expeditionary team has taken to calling 'Whispers.' Like the Etheric Currents, the Whispers seem to grow more powerful the further one travels from land. Whispers first manifest as aural hallucinations which steadily drive their victims to madness and despair. Despite their apparent similarity to the methods employed by the daemons of the Ruinous Powers, the Whispers are not vectors for corruption, but rather have been said to be largely random though inevitably destructive voices. They nevertheless take their toll on the victim's psyche by inducing disturbing dreams and eventually waking nightmares and visions which inevitably results in the loss of sanity. The only preventative measure is to avoid venturing too far into the Sea, emphasizing a need to produce reliable and accurate charts and navigational waypoints while moving from landmass to landmass. A pattern to the voices, if one exists, has yet to be determined.
While a number of isles have been mapped and recorded, our exploration has been largely limited to the waters surrounding the city of Stygia. Much of the intelligence we have gathered is second-hand information from its residents, who have been highly cooperative, though their existence and nature is disturbing for a number of other reasons.
The City of Stygia and its Residents:
According to its official records, construction on the city of Stygia was completed in the thirtieth year after Avernus' founding in the Everglades. However, the astute and cosmopolitan among us would notice that there is not and there never has been a city by that name anywhere on the surface. No such construction was ever planned or recorded. And yet, the facts remain. Records retrieved from Stygia have been verified to be authentic by the Administratum. There can be little denying that the city's layout is distinctly Avernite in the same style of Dis and the other first generation cities. The construction is sturdy and defensible, if still operating on technology centuries out of date. Moreover, there is considerable evidence that suggests the city was somehow transported into the underground without any care being paid to how it might fit into its destination environment.
Stygia is located within a large, mountainous landmass which stretches to the cavern's distant ceiling and is found within safe navigating distance from the Aeneid Gate. That is to say, several sections of the city have been merged with the mountains without regard for its layout. The mountains rise like jagged teeth into the city, carving clean lines through the architecture in a manner that suggests a somewhat haphazard interposition of the city into the crags. The local Stygians have made a considerable effort to make the best of their situation, and several tunnels have been dug into the mountain to facilitate more convenient transit between city districts. The most obvious result of the ragged mixture of mountain and city is the formation of a far greater number of subdivisions and neighborhoods, allowing the varied and diverse subcultures found in Stygia more than enough room to grow and form boroughs with distinctly individual identities. Aside from this, the most striking features of the city are some of its only new additions: a quartet of lighthouses and the sprawling harbor district which has grown up around the periphery of the city's walls.
The former represent an ingenious application of obsolete las-based weapon designs. By introducing a variable diffuser to a high-output las source, the Stygians have built what essentially amounts to a massive weaponized lighthouse. Under normal circumstances, the so-called Las-Pharos illuminates the surrounding seas with a highly diffuse beam of energy which is essentially harmless at any meaningful distance. However, when the city is threatened, the towers can focus their beams to serve as powerful energy weapons. While less efficient than many modern means of defense, the sensitivity of many of the local flora and fauna to intense sources of light and heat mean that las weapons are uniquely suited for use against them.
The harbor district is another feat of engineering. To avoid hazards posed by aquatic wildlife, Stygia's harbors are set up on a system of ultra high-load elevators. When such a hazard emerges, the harbors and ships moored within are able to be lifted entirely out of the sea and up toward safety. This is, however, a relatively time-consuming process, and requires a significant amount of maintenance whenever activated. Still, as an emergency mechanism, it is an impressive and ingenious method to preserve as much infrastructure and materiel as possible.
The city is ostensibly controlled by a governing council headed by a single chief executive in a rough mirror of our own system of governance. In spite of a diminished Admech presence, sufficient numbers are present to maintain the city's infrastructure and defenses, though a significant portion are apparently occupied with the task of attempting to construct what can only be called an artificial sun to replace the function of Stygia' Las-Pharos. There is also a not insignificant Psyker population, which has organized itself into an arrangement not dissimilar to the Unseen University of the surface, though with considerably fewer resources to dedicate to their studies.
Stygians as a people are a fascinating example of how little we understand of Avernus. Like the city itself, its people seem unstuck from reality. Or rather, its inhabitants are in one form or another 'refugees' from various disastrous events which may or may not have come to pass on the surface. For instance, a significant number of Stygia's most recent residents are PDF and survivors of the disaster at Arbor. Others claim to hail from the fall of Dis to the Abomination's Seraph, others from cities which have been victim to Deep One predation, and still others from cities which fell to the Pink Sky Incursion. Each group of refugees tends to form cliques and subcultures within the sprawling city, and they can at times come at odds to one another, though all seem to be unified behind the twin tasks of survival and escape. Many have turned to caving in search of a way out of the underground, and yet others have begun plying the seas to determine whether the mysteries of this place might reveal a means of departure. As of our arrival, the city is gripped with a sense of tension and hope in equal measure.
Time will tell whether there is anything that can be done to help these people, or whether they might even be able to travel beyond the underground at all. The nature of their existence and their unique relationship with causality and cataclysm may mean that departure from whatever ambient space-time aberration afflicts the Stygian Sea would prove lethal, whether or not we develop a means to traverse the Aenein Gate.
More work must be done to study the Stygian state of being and the full interplay of its factions and subcultures. These subjects, as well as a more in-depth look into Stygian society, will be covered in a future volume.
Skulsail Korsairs:
It is perhaps not unsurprising that there are orks in the caves. That they survived the underground long enough to find their way here is a little more disconcerting, as that implies that they may know of a route back to the surface which bypasses the Aeneid Gate. However, that also assumes that the Orks have kept records pertaining to such a topic so far removed from their usual pass-times of fighting, looting, desecrating machinery, and fighting some more.
According to the Stygians, the Skulsail Korsairs have been a thorn in their side ever since they arrived in the underground. The timeline they have provided roughly lines up with Garkill's first invasion, which suggests that these are indeed the descendants of those Orks which fled into the caverns. Unfortunately, we have not had the opportunity to perform an extensive study on the Korsairs, so our observations are limited.
Distinct from most of their surface brethren, many of the Korsairs have taken on a distinctly dingy, deep-sea blue skin tone. Besides this, they are approximately as dangerous, brutal and cunning as any modern Ork. Though, with their numbers mercifully kept in check by the local wildlife, they have largely been unable to form a large enough Waagh-field to pose an existential threat to the surface. Korsair lifestyle is similar in nature to the noted Orkish 'Freebooter' variant. They are constrained primarily to their ships, which like most Ork vessels are largely cobbled-together mountains of scrap inhabited by prolific numbers of the green devils and far too much explosive ordnance to be at all reasonable. Each vessel is commanded by a Kaptin whose standing is denoted by the size and quality of his headgear and who is assisted by a number of lieutenants. Each of these lieutenants has in turn a small collection of subordinates. Korsair rank can be determined by examining their headgear, with each subordinate possessing a relatively less impressive hat than their direct superior.
It is rumored, though unconfirmed, that the Korsairs have established a home for themselves somewhere in the Stygian Sea. Determining the veracity of these claims has been made a priority for future expeditionary teams.
