It is the 41st Millenium, and there is only war.

Beset on all sides by Xenos, Mutants, Traitors, and Witches, the Imperium of Man fights onwards undaunted. A realm of a million worlds built by the greatest human to ever live, the God-Emperor of Man, bound by their faith in him as the only true God and defended by the might of his inexhaustible armies. His divinity is apparent to all who can perceive the Warp, be it Sanctioned Psykers or the Navigators of the Navis Nobilite who can see His light beating back the horrors that assail their souls every moment, or His preachers spreading His divinity and word to all worthy humans to exist, no matter how far they may be. But man is nothing if not imperfect, and in moments of weakness, where man's faith wavers and wanes, death soon follows.

The results are lost worlds, who have turned from the Emperor's light, perverted in body and soul by Chaos, Xenos, or Heretics denying the God-Emperors Divinity.

Yet, mighty Crusades are launched every day to reclaim those worlds lost by the weak and unfit, faithful legions of colonists set out, carrying the light of civilization once more to those places thought lost, and mighty bulwarks shield the faithful against further attacks.

And it all may not be enough.

It is the year 999.M41, and the light of the Emperor wavers.

Cadia has been shattered under the 13th Black Crusade.

The Tyrranids seem to have the Galaxy surrounded.

Xeno activity increases by the day.

Chaos has infiltrated even Holy Terra.

Suppose one is inclined to listen to the ramblings of heretical preachers. In that case, this is the Age of Ending, where man will fall, when the last Guardsman will die standing before Eternity Gate ere even the Emperor is dead.

Killed by either Chaos or one of his treacherous sons.

But you, you do not know of this.

How could you?

You are not high enough to be privy to the horrors that the Empire faces at large, only the myriad of tiny threats that have assaulted your sections of the realm. And it is with your service that you have been granted something you never thought, or wanted, to reach: retirement.

Although, service does not end for you, merely another type. You are shuffled away for your predecessor to take the reigns of your post, as an illness has taken your ability below the level expected of you.

What was it again?

[ ] General In The Guard
You served faithfully within the first and last line of defense and offense against all that assails the Imperium of Man. Countless campaigns are under your belt, hundreds of victories and only one shameful defeat for which you have atoned. Now, within your twilight years, your homeworld regiment and you have been given one last task: settle a world and dig the first trench.
(Gain: 1 Free Guard Regiment you will customize later. Allows for quicker Military buildup.)

[ ] Admiral Of The Imperial Navy
The void is something to be feared, not only for the dangers within but also the need to enter the abominable Warp. Yet, you cannot see it as anything other than your first love, only home, and the place in which you would have wanted to die. But, alas, it is not meant to be, as you no longer possess the health to command a fleet the way you did in your youth of only three centuries. Those were the days! Burning Ork ships left and right, ramming a drukhari with three escorts to align the perfect shot, and blasting traitor vessels to scrap from half a system away! And now? Now you will most likely die on a blasted ball of mud. Dammit.
(Gain: 1d2-1 Light Cruisers and 1d3 Escorts, which will be chosen later, additional option in world generation.)

[No] Magos Lexico Arcanus Of The Adeptus Mechanicum
The settling of this world will offer a strategic advantage in 349 years. Gather the menials and servitor conversion manufactories.
(Gain: Additional Resources in world generation (+2 Points), -2 Morale, effects of Morale are halved (+/-2.5 Points per Morale, instead of +/-5.).)
(Forbidden, because we are trying to create a pleasant planet, not hell world #83vsd.210s-3.)

[ ] Cardinal Of The Adeptus Ministorum
With faith as your shield and an adamantium-clad will, you set out in your firebrand days, preaching the good word to savages and lost colonies. You stood on the frontlines with Sisters of Battle, the Guard, and even one Chapter of His Angels. You slaughtered the Traitor, the Xeno, and the Heretic without mercy and brought back those fallen worlds, by word and might. Later, you watched over the souls of an entire world, guarding them against the heresy of Chaos, leading the defense and subsequent deliverance from doubt against them. As a reward, you had been given the rank of Cardinal, elevated to oversee a diocese spanning a dozen planets, a task you accepted with fervor and humility. And now, in your halcyon days, you have admitted that the flesh is indeed weak, even as your spirit is strong, and have given power over to your most faithful and capable subordinate. Now you have but one last task to fulfill: sanctifying a new world in the name of the God-Emperor. Thankfully, an Order Minoris has been created to aid you in this task due to your outstanding piety and century-long support for the Sisters of Battle.
(Gain: Free Order Minoris of the Adepta Sororitas you will customize later. Gain +6 Morale.)

[ ] Adeptus Of The Adeptus Administratum
You kept the wheels of bureaucracy turning, keeping the food flying and materials loaded in the correct bays. With the stroke of a pen, millions were saved or damned, thousands laboring under your directions to fulfill works in whose shades even their children will never rest. With deft politicking, you secured rank and resources, shoving competitors and the offensively corrupt into the light and thus death or worse, demotion. Yet, even the mightiest of pencil-pushers have to accept the end of a glorious career whose end has etched permanent ink stains into your fingers. Now, you have to oversee one last task with capable subordinates before filing the correct form for your death. Bliss fills you with the thought.
(Gain: Efficient Administrators. +5 to all Rolls.)

Ah yes, you remember now. With a slight internal smile, you turn to the official standing before you, stacks of papers in their hands.

A selection of planets you will be able to choose from, though that is a but a formality, as that decision was made years ago. But tradition needs to be observed, and so you are here, as is the official. So they lay down the dozens of options for you to choose, though even if you had chosen the wrong one, your superiors would have ignored you, and you take your time to peruse them out of curiosity.

You halt after having skimmed them all, then read more carefully again. Then, turning to the official, you speak: "There seems to be a lack of Deathworlds here, have those in charge of creating colonies finally forbidden their settling?"

The official respectfully inclines his head, looking a bit uncomfortable with the subject. "Not so much forbidden,

[ ] Lord (NAME)
[ ] Lady (NAME)
[ ] (TITLE) (NAME)

, as not having any free for settling. They have all been colonized, you see."

You blink at that, surprised that enough madmen could be found to settle those hellholes. "Wait," you say, leaning forwards. "Even that place, what's it called, Avensis?"

"Avernus, and yes."

"Huh," you reply bewildered, then shake your head in slight mirth before tapping the folder with the planet you have been given ownership over.

[ ] (PLANET NAME)
[ ] (NAMING THEME)
[ ] (SEGMENTUM)

You have 2(two) Points to customize your planet.
You start at 2/10 morale. (-15 to all rolls.)

The official nods his head and begins to gather the folders once more. Before he leaves, he hands you a single piece of paper, unremarkable, save for the symbol on the sigil and the signature—an order signed by the Inquisition. If you were younger, you would have voided your bowels in fear; as it is, you only wipe a single bead of sweat from your brow, reading carefully what the Inquisition would want from you.

Choose 1(one).


An: Welcome to [WH40K] - Colonizing A Peaceful Planet, the first of my short 2-month quests in which you, dear reader, have the task to create a colony for the Imperium of Man! Unfortunately, all Deathworlds, worlds with dangerous flora, fauna, warp-related phenomenon, powerful Xenos, and all other manners of nasties have been colonized!

Bummer.

Well, nothing to it then, better start building an excellent new colony for the Imperium to gather resources and soldiers, because you will die if you don't! (Not that you will survive the founding of the colony anyways, as you suffer from [CONVENIENT PLOT DEVICE #7]. Tragic.)

Your objective is to build the colony as fast as possible, juggling Money, Metal, Promethium, Power, Food, Morale, and People, all the while shaping the planet's society when fulfilling projects.

Your task OOC is also to build a planet where people live a good life! Not to create a powerhouse of galactic portion, a horrific dystopia, or the 40k equivalent of the contemporary USA. This quest isn't about Numer-Go-Up or Fix-40k; it is about creating a cozy colony within the 40k Universe where you would want to live.

This quest uses a plan quest dice system. You get xd100 per category, and need to devote them to projects, then roll them to fulfill those.

Morale gives you a -5 modifier for every point of Morale below 5 and +5 for every point above the same.

Once the colony is founded, you die, get replaced with the aid of the chosen political system you set up, and gain an ending post in which I talk about how your planet fairs.

Then the quest ends.

...so, yah.