Turn 15 Results (2128 IC)
Black Nassor hauled himself over the final ledge, then up onto a windswept plateau.
The clouds drifted all about him and he stepped through little bushes of hardy grasses and thorny trees. They tugged at his robes, but when they struck skin his transhuman form turned them aside easily.
He felt the heat before he saw it, before he saw the beast looming out of the clouds. A noble aquiline head, feathers of tawny gold and a black beak with intelligent eyes over it.
"He smells blood on you, brother. Did you encounter difficulty on the way up?"
Nassor turned, and from the clouds walked Kabor Brighthand, his brother-captain and Master of the Marches.
"Some raging beast, it stuck me with a stinger which was distinctly unpleasant, but I crushed it's neck in a contest." Nassor shrugged, motioning with his hand to the ragged hole in his robes. "You test your company well, if this is what you make they try. The climb was almost challenging!"
He had come to visit the 8th Company, driven largely by sentimentality, but also by a desire to understand how the 'Heralds', as they were called, were operating.
They'd been deployed for a decade or more in Sigmar's Empire, and though trust was strong within the Chapter, the Deathspeakers had requested he make an assessment of their activities, which Nassor was happy to do so.
"A manticore, I judge." Kabor said, "They're a challenge for the Scouts. Apparently some of the Abhumans ride them sometimes, but I've been considering a cull, Antorax has a taste for them." Kabor slapped his mount's flank, "Though he is a greedy beast, and gorges himself."
Nassor nodded, it seemed Kabor at least remembered the origins of the Chapter, if he'd named his creature after one of the ancient Battle Barges of the Imperial Fists. Still though, it was unusual for an Astartes to form such a connection with an animal, save for perhaps those of the Space Wolves.
"What news then? I have less good news, and I would hear yours first." Kabor asked. The clouds had cleared somewhat and Nassor could look out of the territory of Solland, the capital of that province far below. Once white walls were now blacked with soot and fume, the result of the new forges and foundries that ringed the city, while Nassor could see alien architecture, square towers taller than many churches to house the new population of industrial workers.
He approved. Though primitive, it was starting to resemble any city you might see on an Imperial world, and the influence, if not the proper adherence to the Standard Template Construct was clear in some of the designs. No doubt Kabor had given them direction, if not supervised the construction himself.
Nassor thought for a moment. Kabor had been isolating himself. He had a Librarian, and they were in communication with Librarius at Atakora, but Kabor seemed to want to test his Company away from friendly territory and supply. That was his right as a Warleader of course, and all the Companies acted slightly differently.
"The Mechanicus are spreading north, up through the mountains." he began, narrating the expansion into the Sour Sea. It was a dreadful place, hostile to human life, wrought with sulphurous craters and deep ravines, and the body of water itself was salty to the extreme, only strange gelatinous creatures pulling themselves through it's thick foamy shores. "There is talk of adapting the native elements to our manufacture, of making power armour from Gromril rather than ceramite. Apparently there are some advantages that the Techpriests are interested in."
"That sounds well, the Dawi have made wonders with it certainly." Kabor said, patting the sword at his side, "My glade is Gromril, enchanted with their runes, and it cuts anything I've put it to."
"The Peregrin is repaired, and up." That had been more notable, but strangely, when Nassor watched the cruiser rise from the Plain of Tuskers, he'd felt less than he thought he might. In the end it was just a ship after all. The Serfs had been happy though, they'd celebrated for days after, and the golden ship had been seen for miles around, one more of the Chariots of the Gods, or so the locals thought. "It's a Mark III, suited for planetary assault and bombardment, I think we shall be glad of it eventually."
Kabor nodded, "Though I wager our supply of munitions will be less than secure, at least in the short term. I know Khotan maintains Exterminatus-grade weaponry, but simple plasma bombs will be just as difficult to produce for the moment. Would that we had the fire of Bellona to rely on."
Forge World Bellona had serviced the Chapters of the Adeptus Vaelarii in the years prior to the Celestial Lions' flight from their former homeworld, the hounds of the Inquisition nipping at their heels. It was considered bad fortune to refer to anything that had come before their arrival on Mallus, and indeed, the Deathspeakers had taken steps to erase or conceal the Chapter's history from the new recruits. The Lions had broken solemn oaths of service and protection to the people of Elara's Veil, and no one was inclined to remember those oaths, or the shame of their betrayal.
"Tuthmes proposes to reform a Company, the 7th, as I understand, a light reserve able to conduct landings and deep strikes." Nassor continued.
"It may be wise, but Tuthmes is Master of the Fleet and would be the one to lead, surely?"
Nassor shook his head. "We are barely three hundred. I disapprove of this business of maintaining many demi-companies rather than proper forces. Very well, we must engage with the World around us, but in sending out twenty or thirty brothers we throttle our own strength. In any case, Tuthmes has detached a squad to man the Peregrin."
"I think there is risk too," Kabor replied, "But we have little other option. The advantages of tactical prioritisation, of concentration of specialist force, are clear. Or would you not say the Selous' Hunters have been effective, despite being only two squads strong?"
Nassor said nothing.
"There are other measures though I understand?" Kabor hinted.
Nassor nodded, but refused the goad. The Master of the Watch now commanded the Black Chamber, a squad of ten armed with silenced weapons and tools of sabotage. Where overwhelming force would always carry the day, it was becoming too costly to use in some cases.
"They will be useful in your affairs, or so I gather?" Nassor returned, and now Kabor's look turned sour.
"If the Pridelord approves I would call on your Chamber to destroy the Guild of Magic in Middenheim. I can marshal the Sigmarites against the Ulricans, that is easy enough, but it would tear this Empire apart and leave them free for xenos and heretics to tear at the wounds. I cannot march into Middenland, and Talabecland is turning against us too. With your aid we can sabotage their efforts, make it seem that the Guild has assassinated the Graf of Middenheim, or something similar. You have chem weapons? Perhaps frenzon? We need only make the Guild seem unreliable and the Empire will turn on them! Poison them or create some other damage, and these rouge psykers will be forced to defend themselves against their allies."
Nassor nodded. This was after all the exact reason he had pushed for the Black Chamber to be created. Space Marines did not naturally fit into the role of assassins, but on Mallus it was necessary to be more subtle. The Middenheim Guild of Magic couldn't be assaulted without turning the Empire against the Chapter, so instead assassination or sabotage might be used. If a poisonous cloud rose from the Guildhall, or a conflagration that set the city on fire, who was to say it wasn't the heretic wizards who had caused it?
"I would hear more of your troubles first. We cannot act precipitously."
Kabor frowned again.
"It began with the Diet." he started. "I was appointed Reiksmarshall several years ago, and technically I hold authority over the Empire's armies, but I fear I've overstepped. The Empire's forces are a patchwork of Frateris Militias, knightly orders, professional state troops, and then mercenaries. My authority in truth though is as much as they give me, and the politics of the situation have always been difficult. I led their forces against the Vampires, I was victorious, that gained me their respect, but I think I've lost that now. A setback…" Kabor sighed, "But not a fatal one. Not if I don't let it be."
"The Missonia Galaxia teach that there are two ways to take a planet by conversion, from above, through nobles and established power structures, or from below by popular pressure and eventually revolution, I suppose you now turn to the later?"
"You have the right of it." Kabor admitted, "I pushed too fast and too hard, I managed to insult the knightly orders, disturb the burgomasters, and alarm the Cults when I tried to centralise the armed forces. I wanted them to be better equipped to face foes without my input, but I think it will require greater oversight, perhaps Astartes advisors in each province, I'm not sure. In any case, the feudal system in this polity is delicate and I've been on the verge of upsetting it completely. The Emperor, the Sigmarite one that is, is very weak, wounded supposedly and constantly unwell. I've not felt the need to question that, but so far it's worked in our favour. Now though the other Elector Counts see me as an extension of centralised power, a military threat, rather than an asset."
'We are a threat.' thought Nassor, but said nothing. Kabor had championed the Sigmarite cause in the councils of the Space Marines, and he had no wish to alienate his brother.
"I've managed to establish agreed standards of training, equipment, superior logistical systems and tactical coherency among the state troops, as well as bringing the mercenaries under my hand, more or less, but in doing so I've largely lost the Ulricans, and I've burned bridges with the knightly orders. That loses the heavy cavalry, the striking arm of the Empire, but it also alienates the nobles. I've elevated commoners and foreigners to high office in my mortal serfs, and the nobles hate that."
"Let them." Nassor shrugged, "Let them face the Amputari with lance and horse."
Indeed there had been an argument to drive the Amputari out of the World's Edge Mountains and into the Empire to force another situation the Lions could take advantage of, but Kabor had vetoed it.
The Amputari were a strange foe indeed, and Nassor let his mind wander as the two Captains looked out across Solland.
The Flesh-that-Hates, the original Nuglite psy-weapon of mutated organic matter that had engulfed much of the northern regions of the world, was now gone. It had turned on its master and then consumed itself. However, the Flesh was incredibly adaptable. Toward the end it had combatted it's foes with large mutant creatures, intentionally split off from the main mass and adapted to particular qualities. These were the 'Amputated', or the Amputari. They bred like enormous single-cell organisms, splitting apart to form two of themselves, or when two divergent forms met, forming into one mass, then splitting again each sharing their mutated genetics with the other. They'd taken on the genetics of everything the Flesh-that-Hates had consumed, from humans to trolls to base animals, to more exotic creatures. Some of the Amputari flew, other burrowed through the earth, some struck with acid sprays or breathed poison mist, while more had rending claws or bio-pneumatic spikes to pierce armour.
The Amputari had been growing in the north of the world for several years, exceptionally difficult to root out. They were intelligent, not tool using, but once they'd realised the Thunderhawks were using auspex sensoriums to detect them a wave of change went through the population and within weeks the whole mutated host were using various methods of camouflage, or turning their bodies cold to avoid being detected by heat. The Chapter had never fought such a foe, but in the last year three companies were deployed, to little result. Yes they culled the largest or slowest forms, but the rest skittered off into tunnels and burrows, and Nassor's company had to burn them out with melta charges. The Amputari had been significantly degraded, but they were a clever foe, and he was sure they'd be back there again in a decade to see to them.
There were other matters, but Nassor would not speak of them here. True, they were standing on top of a mountain and it was unlikely they were observed, and besides that no one on Mallus spoke the Elysium battle-cant, but still he was reluctant.
Firstly, Amra had finally been Veiled. The specialists of the Chapter had built him a suit of magnificent armour, double layered and made from the remnants of damaged Terminator armour. Amra's terrible form was now veiled within a suit of golden plates, interlocking with each inscribed in hexegrammic seals. He resembled an enormous golden man, eight feet tall with gems for eyes and sculpted muscles. It was magnificent indeed, and had been combined with an oversuit, some of it designed by Amra himself following divine revelation, and composing a magnificent work of Artificier Armour, the likes of which Nassor thought would be worthy of First Founding Chapters or Inquisitor Lords. He had walked abroad in the last year, only in Atakora or Pharos, but where he went the serfs fell to their knees with tears in their eyes, thankful that their King had been restored from the supposed wounds he'd taken in battle.
The second matter though was more grave, and it was well their Chapter Master had been strengthened now, for they had discovered the location of the Black Pyramid of Nagash. By study of certain ancient scrolls and interpretation of the Emperor's Tarot, as well as the kine-senses of the Librarius, they had tracked the Pyramid to Nagashizzar, the dark fortress of the ancient Necromancer, deep in the Broken Teeth Mountains. The Pyramid hung in the air, dark energies issues from it upon the winds, and even the crew of the thunderhawk felt a shadow pass over their souls as they saw it.
Sigmar's Empire military improved, but improvements have agitated the feudal arrangements within that territory.
Peregrin now operational: Peregrin, MkIII Vanguard Light Cruiser, armed with a Bombardment Cannon, Macrocannon batteries, and voidcraft Launch Bays. 10 Marines, 1 Chaplain, Epistolary Kaelar, 4 Techmarines attatched. Loaded with:
○ 4 Thunderhawks
○ 4 Thunderhawk Transports
○ 8 Fury Interceptors
○ 6 Starhawk Bombers
Amputari significantly degraded, 7 Marines lost.
Veiling successful
Black Chamber operational: The Black Chamber, 10 Veterans equipped with Mk VI Corvus Armour and specialist weapons enabling them to be more stealthy than usual Astartes deployments.
Nagash's Black Pyramid located at Nagashizzar (somewhat unsurprisingly given that's where he lives)
