KnightDisciple
Brotherhood. Unity. Peace.
- Location
- Midwest, USA
I think you could probably use some kind of signifier, then. As it is the flow makes it hard to distinguish.
A Song Of Peace: Imperial Regent Quest [40k]
- Thread starter Swordomatic
- Start date
-
- Tags
- hololive warhammer 40k (warhammer) science fiction crossover female protagonist beta-chan quest church of hope dokia breaks the world e10 forever 18 in the grim dark future there is only dokahorse little brother collection quest panda quest sui-chan wa kyou mou kawaii unangries your angron you must construct additional siblings
The Warp runs on belief. Bile's disbelief is so powerful it is basically its own kind of magic,
Serialkilerwhale
Whale, whale, whale, what do we 'ave 'ere.
- Location
- Here
Fabius Bile is such an Atheist Emps would be proud.
He(Fabius) looked up, and something looked down.
It was not a face, for a face was a thing of limits and angles, and what he saw had neither. It stretched as far as his eyes could see, as if it were one with the whole of the sky and the firmament above. Things that might have been eyes, or distant moons or vast constellations of stars, looked down at him, and a gash in the atmosphere twisted like a lover's smile. It studied him from an impossible distance, and he felt the sharp edge of its gaze cut through him, layer by layer. There was pain, in that gaze, and pleasure as well. Agony and ecstasy, inextricable and inseparable.
With great effort, he tore his gaze away. 'There is nothing there,' he snarled, his teeth cracking against each other. His hearts stuttered, suddenly losing their rhythm. He pounded at his chest, as internal defibrillators sent a charge of electricity shrieking through him. The chirurgeon flooded his system with tranquillisers, and he tapped shakily at his vambrace. A secondary solution of mild stimulants joined the tranquillisers, stabilising him. He ignored the urge to look up. There was nothing there. Nothing at all. 'There is nothing there,' he said again, tasting blood. 'There are no gods. Only cold stars and the void.'
It was not a face, for a face was a thing of limits and angles, and what he saw had neither. It stretched as far as his eyes could see, as if it were one with the whole of the sky and the firmament above. Things that might have been eyes, or distant moons or vast constellations of stars, looked down at him, and a gash in the atmosphere twisted like a lover's smile. It studied him from an impossible distance, and he felt the sharp edge of its gaze cut through him, layer by layer. There was pain, in that gaze, and pleasure as well. Agony and ecstasy, inextricable and inseparable.
With great effort, he tore his gaze away. 'There is nothing there,' he snarled, his teeth cracking against each other. His hearts stuttered, suddenly losing their rhythm. He pounded at his chest, as internal defibrillators sent a charge of electricity shrieking through him. The chirurgeon flooded his system with tranquillisers, and he tapped shakily at his vambrace. A secondary solution of mild stimulants joined the tranquillisers, stabilising him. He ignored the urge to look up. There was nothing there. Nothing at all. 'There is nothing there,' he said again, tasting blood. 'There are no gods. Only cold stars and the void.'
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- Location
- Space between realms
- Pronouns
- He
Wait has anyone talked about the DEATH CORP
I feel like a lot of Pandora's worship comes from Kriegers since they are part of the "CULT OF SACRIFICE"
Did we just enable those magnificent crazy Zealots?!!
I feel like a lot of Pandora's worship comes from Kriegers since they are part of the "CULT OF SACRIFICE"
Did we just enable those magnificent crazy Zealots?!!
- Location
- Somewhere on Earth
Hmm, 'enable' is a tough word. There's not a whole lot Panda's existence could do that they don't already justify in the name of absolution. Well, aside from one thing that only she could do, I suppose. She could forgive them.
Imagine that, an entire civilisation, forgiven of the sins that drive such a terrible machine. Suicidal Kriegers no longer. Now that'd be interesting!
Serialkilerwhale
Whale, whale, whale, what do we 'ave 'ere.
- Location
- Here
KRIEGER 1: "We're...Forgiven?"
KRIEGER 2: "At long last! We are forgiven!"
KRIEGER 3: "WE ARE FORGIVEN!"
KRIEGER 4: "So...What now."
KRIEGERS 1, 2, 3, & 4: "....."
And so, the men of Krieg, in thanks to the infinite benevolence and greatness of the Imperium and it's most glorious regent, Pandora Cadmus, vow to redouble it's efforts at fighting the God-Emperor's enemies the way they know best, to honor her and aid their most glorious guiding light. For the brighter future she promises, they will give their all.
- Location
- madison
KRIEGER 1: "We're...Forgiven?"
KRIEGER 2: "At long last! We are forgiven!"
KRIEGER 3: "WE ARE FORGIVEN!"
KRIEGER 4: "So...What now."
KRIEGERS 1, 2, 3, & 4: "....."
And so, the men of Krieg, in thanks to the infinite benevolence and greatness of the Imperium and it's most glorious regent, Pandora Cadmus, vow to redouble it's efforts at fighting the God-Emperor's enemies the way they know best, to honor her and aid their most glorious guiding light. For the brighter future she promises, they will give their all.
If they decide to go full out on duty, so long as they no longer do it in a monstrous way, then that's fine. If they want to be fanatics trying to help that's a choice, a choice they could make. Though nudging them to something helthy sounds like a long term posting for a deva.
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Serialkilerwhale
Whale, whale, whale, what do we 'ave 'ere.
- Location
- Here
The real question is, do they even know how to do anything else at this point?
Rehabbing Krieg is going to be the work of generations.
Rehabbing Krieg is going to be the work of generations.
The most certainly do not know how to do anything else, but that is OK, Pandora or no armies are still necessary, even armies that throw themselves at the thickest fighting. What makes the Death Corps so terrible is the reason they fight and the lengths they are willing to go for 'absolution'. You can be a soldier while being mentally in a much better place than they are right now and that is what I feel the objective is in regards to them.
- Location
- Here & There
Generational Trauma is a fuck.
This is random, and I don't want to derail, but I was looking at Warhammer Fantasy and I was struck by how much nicer it is.
I mean, there are beastmen in the forests and Skaven under the cities and Orcs in the mountains and Chaos infiltrators at every level of society and great hordes waiting to descend upon the world, but it can sometimes be an okay place to live.
Humans have "alien" allies that we generally get along with. Wizards enjoy decent treatment and legal protection. There are actual good deities that look out for people.
In some ways, that's kind of what we're going for. There may still be peasant mobs that burn witches, but now the authorities will be intervening to stop them when they can. Local governors may still pursue xenocidal policies, but the central government won't be supporting them. There will still be autocratic tendencies, and in many ways we're relying on a cult of personality. We can't fix everything at once.
What we can do is create an ideology which doesn't endlessly glorify our worst tendencies. A system where local reforms can be supported and held up as an example, while the worst abuses can sometimes be punished.
We can't fix the galaxy. But we can stop constantly breaking it.
I mean, there are beastmen in the forests and Skaven under the cities and Orcs in the mountains and Chaos infiltrators at every level of society and great hordes waiting to descend upon the world, but it can sometimes be an okay place to live.
Humans have "alien" allies that we generally get along with. Wizards enjoy decent treatment and legal protection. There are actual good deities that look out for people.
In some ways, that's kind of what we're going for. There may still be peasant mobs that burn witches, but now the authorities will be intervening to stop them when they can. Local governors may still pursue xenocidal policies, but the central government won't be supporting them. There will still be autocratic tendencies, and in many ways we're relying on a cult of personality. We can't fix everything at once.
What we can do is create an ideology which doesn't endlessly glorify our worst tendencies. A system where local reforms can be supported and held up as an example, while the worst abuses can sometimes be punished.
We can't fix the galaxy. But we can stop constantly breaking it.
003.M42 - The Reconstruction of Baal (Pt. 1)
- Location
- Singapore
A/N: This will be a vote-less update to tide over the thread while I get to the rest of it.
You found yourself mulling over the Fall of Cadia, in your spare time. Some might wonder why you are looking back at a great failure in the wake of a great success, while long-time campaigners might nod and recognise that as exactly why. But no, you never really considered Cadia a great failure. A personal failure, maybe - you should have been able to clean up a weakened Lorgar quicker than you actually did - but strategically it was a success.
No, what you wonder about is how Celestine knew who and what you were before you did.
The Grey Knights found out because their High Prognosticar, Hyperion Blade Breaker - once Zael Effernetti, a lowborn hive orphan who ran into an Inquisitor and the rest was history - saw a vision of your Descension and matched it with the Chapter's prior records of your Deva's intervention and your own rare sightings in the Warp. Master Olympia Freelondr has suspicions, though she did not ask you to confirm them. Your father knows, because you suspect that his old memories of you finally reasserted when you returned. And Lord Castellan Creed knew, because Saint Celestine told him.
But you ran into Celestine perhaps a few hours after your return to the Materium. While she was occupied fighting one of the most potent warlords the Four have in the Materium. And she showed no surprise or shock about it, she just accepted. And you cannot dismiss the possibility that she just took it at face value; as one of your father's Living Saints she is living testament to exactly this sort of thing happening, though not to this degree.
Still, you have to wonder. Did she know before he did? If so, who told her?
'Hmm…' Sanguinius scratched his feathered chin with one foot as he stood perched steadily on the other. 'How many people knew of your heritage prior to the curse being broken?'
"Just one," you replied nonchalantly, your mind elsewhere and here as you split your attention between throwing and catching a softball you found somewhere, your looming lessons with the Navis Nobilite, dealing with Sanguinius' fatherhood issues and your inevitable return to Terra, all along with this conversation. "And Cegorach didn't even figure it out until relatively recently."
You caught your ball and held up a finger before Sanguinius opened either of his beaks. "Mind you, relative is… well, relative. He still figured it out thousands of years ago. It just took him a few millennia here and there after the Birth of Slaanesh to put two and two together. While the evidence was right in front of him," you added flatly, with a roll of your eyes. "Tzeentch is a scatterbrained crustacean, but dammit he's good at curses when he tries."
'Mm. And I doubt the Eldar Clown God would share such information with such a prominent Living Saint,' Sanguinius noted. 'Though… It is possible he might. His methods are inscrutable even at the best of times, and it is possible that Father simply refused to hear him out.'
"He wouldn't believe it even if he did hear him out," you replied, more bitterly than even you expected. "I tried reaching out to papa sometime around the 6th Millennium - M7 by the Imperial Calendar - once I found out that he was still alive, but he didn't believe me then. And he didn't hate Gods back then, more like a firm dislike. If he didn't believe me then, he wouldn't believe Cegorach."
'So that leaves an unknown who cracked the code independently,' Sanguinius mused as he tried to move the topic away from your past tragedies. 'Or perhaps… A white lie? She knew your words rang true, and so fabricated a story that seemed likely to bolster the faith. A story that, as it turns out, was true.'
You shook your head. "That's too convenient, I think. I guess we'll just have to ask her about it one of these days. Well!" You said as you hopped off the bed, your notebook flying into one hand and the door opening when you pushed it with the other from the other side of the room. "I'm off to deal with infrastructure! Ciao!"
'...Actually, hold on, I'm coming too.'
"I make no promises about avoiding your statues."
'The things I do for you.'
----
They shall be my finest warriors, these men who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mould them and in the furnace of war I shall forge them. They shall be of iron will and steely sinew. In great armour I shall clad them and with the mightiest weapons shall they be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease; no sickness shall blight them. They shall have such tactics, strategies and machines that no foe will best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Terror. They are the defenders of humanity. They are my Space Marines...
"...So why in Sanguinius' name am I stuck behind a desk?" moaned Captain Torvan of the Flesh Tearers, Master of the 3rd Company, Lord Sacrifice and, unbeknownst to him, judged by his Chapter Master, Gabriel Seth, to be worthy of leading a Chapter of his own in the future were another Founding to ever be declared. But he did not seem a Chapter Master right now, sobbing into his palms as he is. "I am a Captain! I command without doubt, lead without hesitation! My hands are for chainswords, not auto-quills!"
"Ahem."
Across the hall from him, the bald visage of Gabriel Seth himself bored a hole deep into Torvan's forehead, such was the intensity of his glare. That he was holding a stylus that looked too small for his armoured fingers was irrelevant, because the Flesh Tearer himself was intimidating enough despite the contrast. "Complain as you like, Torvan, but do it quietly." He gestured widely around, at every one of the Flesh Tearer's Captains similarly labouring with administrative tasks. "We are all suffering here. And you are not helping!"
"But Chapter Master--"
"Your Chapter Master has fifteen hundred more reports to file and only eight days left to write them, so leave him be before he shoves the Blood Reaver through your depths of Cretacia!" His eyes narrowed as he glanced at the report piles adorning the desks of every last one of his Captains. "And somehow I have the smallest pile! Am I surrounded by barely-literate savages? Is the auto-quill too small for your mighty, sword-wielding hands?!"
The Captains, appropriately chastised, lowered their heads and began writing faster. A few of them, closer to Torvan, shot him dirty looks. Torvan himself merely sighed into his palms a second time.
All this, because the Hive World they were defending wasn't conveniently saved by the Lord Regent herself, and now while the Flesh Tearers were combat ineffective from injury and wargear damage, they had to handle the administrative workload of the Baal Sector after Lord Seth offered their assistance 'in any way' to the newly-ascended Lord Commander Dante.
Meanwhile, the Angels Encarmine were probably off crusading somewhere, wetting their blades on traitor blood, because the Lord Regent showed up, lit the sky on fire, killed two Norn Queens for them and terrified the third into fleeing, then left.
"By Sanguinius, some Chapters get all the luck," Torvan grumbled quietly, to the bitter agreement of his fellow Captains.
----
"By Sanguinius," muttered Castellan Zargo of the Angels Encarmine, as he looked at the pile of rubble once called a redoubt that he and his Chapter have the honour of clearing on Steeltower, now that the fighting was done. "Some Chapters get all the luck."
"We could simply wait a day for the Imperial Guard's engineer corps to arrive with heavy machinery, Chapter Master," his Sanguinary Herald offered.
"Unfortunately, I've already retasked those units to the other fortresses."
"...Ah."
"Indeed, a grave mistake." Zargo gestured weakly at the ruined redoubt. "I knew it would be an undertaking. But standing here really makes you appreciate the magnitude of it all."
"Perhaps this is a valuable remedial tasking for us," quipped his First Captain, Severian, to the sharp looks of everyone else around him save Zargo. "What? You cannot sincerely say we have ever helped with the reconstruction of the worlds we've saved!"
"No time like the present," groused Zargo. "Come on, we have work to do."
----
"So... The Lord Commander cuts quite the imposing figure, doesn't she?"
The azure-haired Saint with him laughed involuntarily at that statement, which caught Captain Asterion off-guard. He was given to believing that the Ecclesiarchy's 'Living Saints' were universally women of unparallelled piety and fiery zeal who had given themselves wholly over to the Emperor's Will, so he had thought laughter was beyond them. Though, the same can be said of the Space Marines as well.
"Ha… Sorry, sorry! It's just that she's really small, so hearing you say that caught me off guard, is all!"
Aurelius smiled. Patrolling Baal Tertius and overseeing the census of their world to determine the extent of Nurglite corruption both lingering and immediate was something of a rump assignment, but Aurelius was never one to shirk from responsibility - and it helped him gain the measure of the Saints who served alongside the Lord Commander. Saints they may be, but they were unlike any he had ever heard of.
They were… Earnest. What they lacked in ostentation they matched with sincerity.
"I've always believed that stature is secondary when judging the presence of others, both friend and foe," the Captain said in reply, while they continued to make their way to an oasis in the desert - dried out now by the Tyranid occupation, but it may replenish in the days to come from the aquifers below. "And I've developed a sense for the measure of a man in my time as Master of the Watch."
The Saint, who had introduced herself as Saya and who seemed a deft hand with the sword with the curved handguard on her hip, looked askance at him and merely tilted her head. "Oho? Then what do you make of me, Captain?"
Aurelius closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in as he collected his thoughts. "You are a woman who regrets her past mistakes, and though you've long since atoned for them you still don't forgive yourself for making them. You feel inadequate in the company of your peers, so you strive to further heights of diligence in the hopes that you'll find the fulfillment you already have. And you know all this, but simply struggle to forgive yourself." The Captain opened his eyes at her and smiled, running a hand through his short-cropped blonde hair. "You are the best kind of fool, Saint Saya; a good woman who cannot accept she isn't doing more."
The Saint looked up at him with wide eyes, her cheeks powdered red and her mouth a jagged line filled with conflicting emotions. Her jaw trembled and she struggled with the decision to speak or not to dignify his judgement. Then, she looked away and exhaled harshly. "...Full marks," Saya harrumphed. "You're a frightening man, Aurelius Asterion."
Aurelius laughed, then held up a drooping rad-pine branch for them to pass under, the Saint first. "You flatter me, my lady. I can only guess at what you've gone through… But if you'll hear from a kindred spirit?" Saya glanced in his direction with a put-upon pout but said nothing else, which he took as permission to continue. "Don't give up. Keep striving to better yourself, so you can do better by others but also so that you may find peace within yourself. Because we were also saved by others, and it would reflect poorly on them if we don't consider ourselves as such."
Saya frowned, but the ghost of a smirk in the quirk of her lips betrayed the lack of heat in the expression. "You've been through a lot yourself, haven't you Captain?"
"Likely not as much as you. I haven't died in the line of service yet."
Now, Saya hummed. "But you want to?"
"I seek fulfillment in the fulfillment of my duties. If that costs me my life - and someday, it will - then I embrace it wholeheartedly. Sacrifice is the first of Sanguinius' virtues, and one I embrace wholeheartedly."
The Saint nodded. "You know, Pandora's the G--"
She caught herself suddenly, which drew Aurelius' attention.
"...I mean, Pandora's the same sort of idiot, too. She's constantly giving herself because she thinks that will save people. And it does, so I can't even tell her it doesn't work. I just don't think the Imperium's going to be happy with just her." She blinked, then Saya immediately raised her hands before her defensively. "T-That is to say…! I-I mean, I don't think Sanguinius is a--"
"Saint Saya." Now, Aurelius' voice was gravely serious. "Whatever you do, don't let her die for us."
Saya blinked. "O-Of course?"
"I mean it." Gone was the easy humor and careless, wistful smile from Aurelius' Primarch-given features. He was deathly serious, an Angel of Death. "Sanguinius died, and it shattered our Legion. Even ten thousand years later, we bear the scars of that loss, desperately following his example because we cannot believe that he died for anything less than the noblest of intentions."
"...Wait, but you just said--"
"I am a Son of Sanguinius. I am not proof against my gene-grief. As I said," he said, a hint of sadness seeping into his tone, "We are kindred spirits. In that regard, at least." He continued looking forward, scanning the dunes ahead. "But I have also served with the Ordo Malleus, and I have seen both the best and worst that humanity has to offer."
"Pandora's not going to die," Saya responded sharply. "A-And we'll grieve for her, but I don't think the Imperium will."
Aurelius laughed bitterly. "That's the fear, my lady. That is my advice to you, one servant of a higher power to another; don't let them sacrifice themselves, no matter what."
Saya looked morosely at the ground, stewing over the Captain's words. Then, deep in her reverie, the Captain barked a laugh that nearly flipped her over.
"W-What the heck?!"
"You're taking my words too seriously, my lady Saint! Calm yourself." Aurelius chuckled and shook his head at himself. "Look at what idleness does to me, all this navel gazing…" He looked around, then scoffed. "And all this walking. I am a Space Marine, not a Guardsman. Perhaps I should have requisitioned that Rhino after all."
"You're a dick," Saya scowled, which made Aurelius laugh again. "I mean it! You fill my head with all this heavy stuff about sacrifice and dying and keeping my friend from killing herself and you're just making conversation?!"
Aurelius, unmoved by the Saint's outburst, merely grinned back wolfishly. "I cannot apologise, milady. Your presence has me bursting with insight and clarity."
Saya went red again, sputtering words that have no meaning, in ways that Aurelius cannot understand as she turned away and crossed her arms harshly. "Y-You're an asshole!" She cried out.
Aurelius shook his head again. "Alas, this is what walking does for us." He spread his arms, gesturing out at the grand dunes of Baal Tertius, on the outskirts of what was once Angel Forge. "A great desert, filled with fyck all!"
Then the desert churned and towering plumes of sand erupted, unveiling vast caverns filled with the noxious oozing forms of countless Nurglites, festering with plague and rot.
Wordlessly, Aurelius drew Invictus and a bolt pistol from his belt. Saya was already on her feet and in the air, her wings aglow and manifesting swords aplenty. "This is Two-Actual," Aurelius said as he donned his helmet; a keen ear could even tell he was sheepish. "I've identified Nurglites at the outskirts of Angel's Forge. Requesting reinforcement."
"You tempted the Changer, didn't you?" Asked Osiron over the battle-net.
"...Aye."
"Fyck's sake, Captain," moaned his First Sergeant, Tumultus, "I thought you were good at fighting Chaos! Not rousing their ire!"
"To hear him say it," quipped Geralt, "They are one and the same."
"They are one and the same!" Aurelius asserted. He was already opening fire as he retreated from the Oasis, each bolt popping a nurgling like a noxious balloon. But there were thousands more following it. "Secrecy is their weapon! One must bring the minions of Chaos into the open so they may be destroyed properly!"
Scout Sergeant Vergilius snickered. "You seem to have done just that, brother."
"...Hush ye. And hurry, now!"
Saya just kept screaming as she threw swords and light into the enemy below.
----
"...And that's how the last vestiges of Nurglite taint on Baal Tertius were rooted out, Lady Pandora."
You blinked, and your Custodes shut the door to Dante's study behind you. "I just came here to ask you about your dreams of Sanguinius. The heck happened while I was inspecting the Sector's reconstruction, Dante?"
The Lord Commander of the Blood Angels and the Lord Regent of the Dark Imperium scratched his chin under his mask. "Suffice to say that my protege continues to cause trouble even into his third century of service, Lady Pandora. And it seems one of your Saints was involved as well, one named--"
"Saya, I know." You were already massaging your temples. Good grief, you would rather be anywhere else right now. "Right… Can you handle this?"
"I can handle this," Dante nodded. "May Sanguinius watch you when you go to manage those Inquisitors."
'Don't you worry,' Sanguinius quipped from inside you. 'I will most certainly be doing that.'
"Could you go reveal yourself to your sons instead?"
'No.'
You could strangle someone right now. "Thank you, Lord Dante."
"And you, Lady Pandora."
----
"They are late."
In the dank underbelly of the Battlecruiser Bane of the Underdark, the man waited. His agents were rarely tardy, yet today an Interrogator had missed a dropoff. Information that had previously come freely and readily was now stymied, by forces he does not understand. Centuries of experience told him this bode poorly.
But there was still time, and this deck of the ship was secure anyhow, evacuated as it was by reports of atmospheric breach - falsified, of course, but it kept the region clear of the ratings. Undesirable figures. The lights flickered intermittently, as it often did in the little-frequented decks of old Imperial vessels, but it was no trouble. So the Inquisitor continued to sit by a deck table that ratings would use between their shifts, waiting for an agent's report.
Then, he felt something, a shift in the air. And he turned, drawing a bolt pistol in the same motion - and found it knocked aside by the haft of a Guardian Spear.
One of the Emperor's Custodians now loomed over him where there was nothing before, with not even the hiss of power armour or the soft movement of stale recycled air to mark their passage. The Custodian had moved like a ghost, but he was very, very real.
But it was the one who now sat across from him who truly unnerved him.
"Hello, Lord Inquisitor Ramath Gandalor," said the young woman, her hair a pale cerise and her eyes bright gold. The Inquisitor was no Psyker, no witch was he, but even he could feel the raw power that threatened to lash out unbridled from behind the girl's pleasant demeanour. "I've overlooked the Inquisition's hand on this fleet long enough. Isn't it time we got to know one another?"
Ramath felt his pulse quicken, but he remained composed despite the Emperor's Talon looming over him - and the other two waiting in the shadows, unseen but felt all the same. "Lord Commander Pandora. Your reputation precedes you."
"Good to hear." She tented her fingers together and held them before her mouth. "Let's be clear on one thing, Lord Inquisitor. I'm aware that you are the only one of your rank in this fleet, just as I am aware of the other ten elsewhere. I'll be dealing with all of you sooner or later, but feel free to warn them. It won't change anything, but it might save me some time." Then she interlaced her fingers, clasping her hands together. "So, do we start with the atrocities or the reason you fear me?"
[X] Plan: A Strong Heart Dwells in a Strong Body Directed by a Strong Mind
-[X] Rebuild damaged Infrastructure, fortify existing Fortress Worlds, and prepare the Baal Sector to be the heart of the new Dark Imperium. (1 Year)
-[X] Establish new Recruiting Worlds for the Blood Angels (1 Year)
-[X] Help establish a local branch of the Telepathica here to train new Psykers and Astropaths now that travel to Terra is even more harrowing than it normally is. (1 Year)
-[X] Teach the Wayfarer Discipline to the Navigators of the Baal Sector (1 Year)
-[X] Teach the Wayfarer Discipline to the Librarians of the Blood Angels (1 Year)
-[X] Thoroughly cleanse the Baal Sector of all Chaotic influence (1 Year)
-[X] Reveal your divinity to the Blood Angels (Free)
-[X] Manage the future Cults of Sacrifice (1 Year)
-[X] Offer Dante a contract with your Deva to guide ships through the Warp (1 Year)
-[X] Find the Inquisitors embedded all over the Nihilus Expedition Fleet and chat them up. It's time you got to know about the Inquisition and its methods
-[X] Go with Lyra, who has some ruins she wants to explore around the area which she thinks might help her finish her Masterpiece
-[X] Spend time with your Deva and with Lily to get back in the swing of things and try to rebuild your connection to the Domain of Sacrifice
-[X] Convince Sanguinius to reveal himself to the Blood Angels for real, not as a dream but as their father.
-[X] Rebuild damaged Infrastructure, fortify existing Fortress Worlds, and prepare the Baal Sector to be the heart of the new Dark Imperium. (1 Year)
-[X] Establish new Recruiting Worlds for the Blood Angels (1 Year)
-[X] Help establish a local branch of the Telepathica here to train new Psykers and Astropaths now that travel to Terra is even more harrowing than it normally is. (1 Year)
-[X] Teach the Wayfarer Discipline to the Navigators of the Baal Sector (1 Year)
-[X] Teach the Wayfarer Discipline to the Librarians of the Blood Angels (1 Year)
-[X] Thoroughly cleanse the Baal Sector of all Chaotic influence (1 Year)
-[X] Reveal your divinity to the Blood Angels (Free)
-[X] Manage the future Cults of Sacrifice (1 Year)
-[X] Offer Dante a contract with your Deva to guide ships through the Warp (1 Year)
-[X] Find the Inquisitors embedded all over the Nihilus Expedition Fleet and chat them up. It's time you got to know about the Inquisition and its methods
-[X] Go with Lyra, who has some ruins she wants to explore around the area which she thinks might help her finish her Masterpiece
-[X] Spend time with your Deva and with Lily to get back in the swing of things and try to rebuild your connection to the Domain of Sacrifice
-[X] Convince Sanguinius to reveal himself to the Blood Angels for real, not as a dream but as their father.
You found yourself mulling over the Fall of Cadia, in your spare time. Some might wonder why you are looking back at a great failure in the wake of a great success, while long-time campaigners might nod and recognise that as exactly why. But no, you never really considered Cadia a great failure. A personal failure, maybe - you should have been able to clean up a weakened Lorgar quicker than you actually did - but strategically it was a success.
No, what you wonder about is how Celestine knew who and what you were before you did.
The Grey Knights found out because their High Prognosticar, Hyperion Blade Breaker - once Zael Effernetti, a lowborn hive orphan who ran into an Inquisitor and the rest was history - saw a vision of your Descension and matched it with the Chapter's prior records of your Deva's intervention and your own rare sightings in the Warp. Master Olympia Freelondr has suspicions, though she did not ask you to confirm them. Your father knows, because you suspect that his old memories of you finally reasserted when you returned. And Lord Castellan Creed knew, because Saint Celestine told him.
But you ran into Celestine perhaps a few hours after your return to the Materium. While she was occupied fighting one of the most potent warlords the Four have in the Materium. And she showed no surprise or shock about it, she just accepted. And you cannot dismiss the possibility that she just took it at face value; as one of your father's Living Saints she is living testament to exactly this sort of thing happening, though not to this degree.
Still, you have to wonder. Did she know before he did? If so, who told her?
'Hmm…' Sanguinius scratched his feathered chin with one foot as he stood perched steadily on the other. 'How many people knew of your heritage prior to the curse being broken?'
"Just one," you replied nonchalantly, your mind elsewhere and here as you split your attention between throwing and catching a softball you found somewhere, your looming lessons with the Navis Nobilite, dealing with Sanguinius' fatherhood issues and your inevitable return to Terra, all along with this conversation. "And Cegorach didn't even figure it out until relatively recently."
You caught your ball and held up a finger before Sanguinius opened either of his beaks. "Mind you, relative is… well, relative. He still figured it out thousands of years ago. It just took him a few millennia here and there after the Birth of Slaanesh to put two and two together. While the evidence was right in front of him," you added flatly, with a roll of your eyes. "Tzeentch is a scatterbrained crustacean, but dammit he's good at curses when he tries."
'Mm. And I doubt the Eldar Clown God would share such information with such a prominent Living Saint,' Sanguinius noted. 'Though… It is possible he might. His methods are inscrutable even at the best of times, and it is possible that Father simply refused to hear him out.'
"He wouldn't believe it even if he did hear him out," you replied, more bitterly than even you expected. "I tried reaching out to papa sometime around the 6th Millennium - M7 by the Imperial Calendar - once I found out that he was still alive, but he didn't believe me then. And he didn't hate Gods back then, more like a firm dislike. If he didn't believe me then, he wouldn't believe Cegorach."
'So that leaves an unknown who cracked the code independently,' Sanguinius mused as he tried to move the topic away from your past tragedies. 'Or perhaps… A white lie? She knew your words rang true, and so fabricated a story that seemed likely to bolster the faith. A story that, as it turns out, was true.'
You shook your head. "That's too convenient, I think. I guess we'll just have to ask her about it one of these days. Well!" You said as you hopped off the bed, your notebook flying into one hand and the door opening when you pushed it with the other from the other side of the room. "I'm off to deal with infrastructure! Ciao!"
'...Actually, hold on, I'm coming too.'
"I make no promises about avoiding your statues."
'The things I do for you.'
----
They shall be my finest warriors, these men who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mould them and in the furnace of war I shall forge them. They shall be of iron will and steely sinew. In great armour I shall clad them and with the mightiest weapons shall they be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease; no sickness shall blight them. They shall have such tactics, strategies and machines that no foe will best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Terror. They are the defenders of humanity. They are my Space Marines...
"...So why in Sanguinius' name am I stuck behind a desk?" moaned Captain Torvan of the Flesh Tearers, Master of the 3rd Company, Lord Sacrifice and, unbeknownst to him, judged by his Chapter Master, Gabriel Seth, to be worthy of leading a Chapter of his own in the future were another Founding to ever be declared. But he did not seem a Chapter Master right now, sobbing into his palms as he is. "I am a Captain! I command without doubt, lead without hesitation! My hands are for chainswords, not auto-quills!"
"Ahem."
Across the hall from him, the bald visage of Gabriel Seth himself bored a hole deep into Torvan's forehead, such was the intensity of his glare. That he was holding a stylus that looked too small for his armoured fingers was irrelevant, because the Flesh Tearer himself was intimidating enough despite the contrast. "Complain as you like, Torvan, but do it quietly." He gestured widely around, at every one of the Flesh Tearer's Captains similarly labouring with administrative tasks. "We are all suffering here. And you are not helping!"
"But Chapter Master--"
"Your Chapter Master has fifteen hundred more reports to file and only eight days left to write them, so leave him be before he shoves the Blood Reaver through your depths of Cretacia!" His eyes narrowed as he glanced at the report piles adorning the desks of every last one of his Captains. "And somehow I have the smallest pile! Am I surrounded by barely-literate savages? Is the auto-quill too small for your mighty, sword-wielding hands?!"
The Captains, appropriately chastised, lowered their heads and began writing faster. A few of them, closer to Torvan, shot him dirty looks. Torvan himself merely sighed into his palms a second time.
All this, because the Hive World they were defending wasn't conveniently saved by the Lord Regent herself, and now while the Flesh Tearers were combat ineffective from injury and wargear damage, they had to handle the administrative workload of the Baal Sector after Lord Seth offered their assistance 'in any way' to the newly-ascended Lord Commander Dante.
Meanwhile, the Angels Encarmine were probably off crusading somewhere, wetting their blades on traitor blood, because the Lord Regent showed up, lit the sky on fire, killed two Norn Queens for them and terrified the third into fleeing, then left.
"By Sanguinius, some Chapters get all the luck," Torvan grumbled quietly, to the bitter agreement of his fellow Captains.
----
"By Sanguinius," muttered Castellan Zargo of the Angels Encarmine, as he looked at the pile of rubble once called a redoubt that he and his Chapter have the honour of clearing on Steeltower, now that the fighting was done. "Some Chapters get all the luck."
"We could simply wait a day for the Imperial Guard's engineer corps to arrive with heavy machinery, Chapter Master," his Sanguinary Herald offered.
"Unfortunately, I've already retasked those units to the other fortresses."
"...Ah."
"Indeed, a grave mistake." Zargo gestured weakly at the ruined redoubt. "I knew it would be an undertaking. But standing here really makes you appreciate the magnitude of it all."
"Perhaps this is a valuable remedial tasking for us," quipped his First Captain, Severian, to the sharp looks of everyone else around him save Zargo. "What? You cannot sincerely say we have ever helped with the reconstruction of the worlds we've saved!"
"No time like the present," groused Zargo. "Come on, we have work to do."
----
"So... The Lord Commander cuts quite the imposing figure, doesn't she?"
The azure-haired Saint with him laughed involuntarily at that statement, which caught Captain Asterion off-guard. He was given to believing that the Ecclesiarchy's 'Living Saints' were universally women of unparallelled piety and fiery zeal who had given themselves wholly over to the Emperor's Will, so he had thought laughter was beyond them. Though, the same can be said of the Space Marines as well.
"Ha… Sorry, sorry! It's just that she's really small, so hearing you say that caught me off guard, is all!"
Aurelius smiled. Patrolling Baal Tertius and overseeing the census of their world to determine the extent of Nurglite corruption both lingering and immediate was something of a rump assignment, but Aurelius was never one to shirk from responsibility - and it helped him gain the measure of the Saints who served alongside the Lord Commander. Saints they may be, but they were unlike any he had ever heard of.
They were… Earnest. What they lacked in ostentation they matched with sincerity.
"I've always believed that stature is secondary when judging the presence of others, both friend and foe," the Captain said in reply, while they continued to make their way to an oasis in the desert - dried out now by the Tyranid occupation, but it may replenish in the days to come from the aquifers below. "And I've developed a sense for the measure of a man in my time as Master of the Watch."
The Saint, who had introduced herself as Saya and who seemed a deft hand with the sword with the curved handguard on her hip, looked askance at him and merely tilted her head. "Oho? Then what do you make of me, Captain?"
Aurelius closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in as he collected his thoughts. "You are a woman who regrets her past mistakes, and though you've long since atoned for them you still don't forgive yourself for making them. You feel inadequate in the company of your peers, so you strive to further heights of diligence in the hopes that you'll find the fulfillment you already have. And you know all this, but simply struggle to forgive yourself." The Captain opened his eyes at her and smiled, running a hand through his short-cropped blonde hair. "You are the best kind of fool, Saint Saya; a good woman who cannot accept she isn't doing more."
The Saint looked up at him with wide eyes, her cheeks powdered red and her mouth a jagged line filled with conflicting emotions. Her jaw trembled and she struggled with the decision to speak or not to dignify his judgement. Then, she looked away and exhaled harshly. "...Full marks," Saya harrumphed. "You're a frightening man, Aurelius Asterion."
Aurelius laughed, then held up a drooping rad-pine branch for them to pass under, the Saint first. "You flatter me, my lady. I can only guess at what you've gone through… But if you'll hear from a kindred spirit?" Saya glanced in his direction with a put-upon pout but said nothing else, which he took as permission to continue. "Don't give up. Keep striving to better yourself, so you can do better by others but also so that you may find peace within yourself. Because we were also saved by others, and it would reflect poorly on them if we don't consider ourselves as such."
Saya frowned, but the ghost of a smirk in the quirk of her lips betrayed the lack of heat in the expression. "You've been through a lot yourself, haven't you Captain?"
"Likely not as much as you. I haven't died in the line of service yet."
Now, Saya hummed. "But you want to?"
"I seek fulfillment in the fulfillment of my duties. If that costs me my life - and someday, it will - then I embrace it wholeheartedly. Sacrifice is the first of Sanguinius' virtues, and one I embrace wholeheartedly."
The Saint nodded. "You know, Pandora's the G--"
She caught herself suddenly, which drew Aurelius' attention.
"...I mean, Pandora's the same sort of idiot, too. She's constantly giving herself because she thinks that will save people. And it does, so I can't even tell her it doesn't work. I just don't think the Imperium's going to be happy with just her." She blinked, then Saya immediately raised her hands before her defensively. "T-That is to say…! I-I mean, I don't think Sanguinius is a--"
"Saint Saya." Now, Aurelius' voice was gravely serious. "Whatever you do, don't let her die for us."
Saya blinked. "O-Of course?"
"I mean it." Gone was the easy humor and careless, wistful smile from Aurelius' Primarch-given features. He was deathly serious, an Angel of Death. "Sanguinius died, and it shattered our Legion. Even ten thousand years later, we bear the scars of that loss, desperately following his example because we cannot believe that he died for anything less than the noblest of intentions."
"...Wait, but you just said--"
"I am a Son of Sanguinius. I am not proof against my gene-grief. As I said," he said, a hint of sadness seeping into his tone, "We are kindred spirits. In that regard, at least." He continued looking forward, scanning the dunes ahead. "But I have also served with the Ordo Malleus, and I have seen both the best and worst that humanity has to offer."
"Pandora's not going to die," Saya responded sharply. "A-And we'll grieve for her, but I don't think the Imperium will."
Aurelius laughed bitterly. "That's the fear, my lady. That is my advice to you, one servant of a higher power to another; don't let them sacrifice themselves, no matter what."
Saya looked morosely at the ground, stewing over the Captain's words. Then, deep in her reverie, the Captain barked a laugh that nearly flipped her over.
"W-What the heck?!"
"You're taking my words too seriously, my lady Saint! Calm yourself." Aurelius chuckled and shook his head at himself. "Look at what idleness does to me, all this navel gazing…" He looked around, then scoffed. "And all this walking. I am a Space Marine, not a Guardsman. Perhaps I should have requisitioned that Rhino after all."
"You're a dick," Saya scowled, which made Aurelius laugh again. "I mean it! You fill my head with all this heavy stuff about sacrifice and dying and keeping my friend from killing herself and you're just making conversation?!"
Aurelius, unmoved by the Saint's outburst, merely grinned back wolfishly. "I cannot apologise, milady. Your presence has me bursting with insight and clarity."
Saya went red again, sputtering words that have no meaning, in ways that Aurelius cannot understand as she turned away and crossed her arms harshly. "Y-You're an asshole!" She cried out.
Aurelius shook his head again. "Alas, this is what walking does for us." He spread his arms, gesturing out at the grand dunes of Baal Tertius, on the outskirts of what was once Angel Forge. "A great desert, filled with fyck all!"
Then the desert churned and towering plumes of sand erupted, unveiling vast caverns filled with the noxious oozing forms of countless Nurglites, festering with plague and rot.
Wordlessly, Aurelius drew Invictus and a bolt pistol from his belt. Saya was already on her feet and in the air, her wings aglow and manifesting swords aplenty. "This is Two-Actual," Aurelius said as he donned his helmet; a keen ear could even tell he was sheepish. "I've identified Nurglites at the outskirts of Angel's Forge. Requesting reinforcement."
"You tempted the Changer, didn't you?" Asked Osiron over the battle-net.
"...Aye."
"Fyck's sake, Captain," moaned his First Sergeant, Tumultus, "I thought you were good at fighting Chaos! Not rousing their ire!"
"To hear him say it," quipped Geralt, "They are one and the same."
"They are one and the same!" Aurelius asserted. He was already opening fire as he retreated from the Oasis, each bolt popping a nurgling like a noxious balloon. But there were thousands more following it. "Secrecy is their weapon! One must bring the minions of Chaos into the open so they may be destroyed properly!"
Scout Sergeant Vergilius snickered. "You seem to have done just that, brother."
"...Hush ye. And hurry, now!"
Saya just kept screaming as she threw swords and light into the enemy below.
----
"...And that's how the last vestiges of Nurglite taint on Baal Tertius were rooted out, Lady Pandora."
You blinked, and your Custodes shut the door to Dante's study behind you. "I just came here to ask you about your dreams of Sanguinius. The heck happened while I was inspecting the Sector's reconstruction, Dante?"
The Lord Commander of the Blood Angels and the Lord Regent of the Dark Imperium scratched his chin under his mask. "Suffice to say that my protege continues to cause trouble even into his third century of service, Lady Pandora. And it seems one of your Saints was involved as well, one named--"
"Saya, I know." You were already massaging your temples. Good grief, you would rather be anywhere else right now. "Right… Can you handle this?"
"I can handle this," Dante nodded. "May Sanguinius watch you when you go to manage those Inquisitors."
'Don't you worry,' Sanguinius quipped from inside you. 'I will most certainly be doing that.'
"Could you go reveal yourself to your sons instead?"
'No.'
You could strangle someone right now. "Thank you, Lord Dante."
"And you, Lady Pandora."
----
"They are late."
In the dank underbelly of the Battlecruiser Bane of the Underdark, the man waited. His agents were rarely tardy, yet today an Interrogator had missed a dropoff. Information that had previously come freely and readily was now stymied, by forces he does not understand. Centuries of experience told him this bode poorly.
But there was still time, and this deck of the ship was secure anyhow, evacuated as it was by reports of atmospheric breach - falsified, of course, but it kept the region clear of the ratings. Undesirable figures. The lights flickered intermittently, as it often did in the little-frequented decks of old Imperial vessels, but it was no trouble. So the Inquisitor continued to sit by a deck table that ratings would use between their shifts, waiting for an agent's report.
Then, he felt something, a shift in the air. And he turned, drawing a bolt pistol in the same motion - and found it knocked aside by the haft of a Guardian Spear.
One of the Emperor's Custodians now loomed over him where there was nothing before, with not even the hiss of power armour or the soft movement of stale recycled air to mark their passage. The Custodian had moved like a ghost, but he was very, very real.
But it was the one who now sat across from him who truly unnerved him.
"Hello, Lord Inquisitor Ramath Gandalor," said the young woman, her hair a pale cerise and her eyes bright gold. The Inquisitor was no Psyker, no witch was he, but even he could feel the raw power that threatened to lash out unbridled from behind the girl's pleasant demeanour. "I've overlooked the Inquisition's hand on this fleet long enough. Isn't it time we got to know one another?"
Ramath felt his pulse quicken, but he remained composed despite the Emperor's Talon looming over him - and the other two waiting in the shadows, unseen but felt all the same. "Lord Commander Pandora. Your reputation precedes you."
"Good to hear." She tented her fingers together and held them before her mouth. "Let's be clear on one thing, Lord Inquisitor. I'm aware that you are the only one of your rank in this fleet, just as I am aware of the other ten elsewhere. I'll be dealing with all of you sooner or later, but feel free to warn them. It won't change anything, but it might save me some time." Then she interlaced her fingers, clasping her hands together. "So, do we start with the atrocities or the reason you fear me?"
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
I wonder if Aurelian even understands why she's blushing? Romantic overtones aren't exactly an Astartes speciality.
The Custodian's party reminds me of the scene in Carrion Throne where one blithely stated they serve only the Throne, not the Inquisition when he tried to pull rank on the Golden guy.
And now an Inquisitor is before someone who outmatches him in rank, power, authority, and even circumstances and is keen to shoot down all his talk of necessity in his actions.
The Custodian's party reminds me of the scene in Carrion Throne where one blithely stated they serve only the Throne, not the Inquisition when he tried to pull rank on the Golden guy.
And now an Inquisitor is before someone who outmatches him in rank, power, authority, and even circumstances and is keen to shoot down all his talk of necessity in his actions.
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Oh la la Panda is going straight for the throat with the inquisition
ConfusedCanuck
Where did it all go wrong?
- Location
- Neverland
Ooo Pandora going straight for the throat with the Inquisitors! But I'm not surprised that they fear her after all for millennia the various Ordos(not all of them) have been running around killing the natural born children of the Emp's for one reason or another. And now the most powerful and eldest is in command I'm sure they don't like that one bit and or are planning something really stupid. So best we tug on there leash now before it's too late.
Also Aurelias you sly dog you! And you don't even know what your doing to Saya as well!
Also Aurelias you sly dog you! And you don't even know what your doing to Saya as well!
Nix's Warden
Welcome to Hades
- Location
- United States
Love yah Swordo but your a dick for that blueball ending.
Well kind of, though it should be noted that calling what they do atrocities will only have an impact on those Inquisitors who still have some vestige of human empathy. Those who have drunk the koolaide to the dregs will say. 'I have done no evil because I served the Emperor/Mankind'.
As it turns out menial labor is the bane of all Astartes. We should come up with appropriate training to make them more resistant to this kind of torture...
Was wondering when he was going to show up
- Location
- madison
I suspect swordo is powered by the salt and despair of their players. There is no vote or gut punch, so they use a cliffhanger to tide them over.
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that was annoying spot to end it.
and quite the wham question.
was funny to see each Astartes chapter thinking the other has it better
and quite the wham question.
was funny to see each Astartes chapter thinking the other has it better
Icipall
Don't worry, we can fanfix that!
- Location
- Cold snow fields of Finland
Oh boy, all these Glory or Death references!
In the next part, oh boy, this is going to be a talk.
Probably though she was some daemon trying to tempt him with the visage of his daughter.
No one escapes from the paperwork. No one.
Hah!
I'd much rather doing manual labor than paperwork.
They've had... a long time to deal with their issues.
...Damn, he pretty much read her like an open book.
Well said, Aurelius.
Aurelius, stop seducing Pandora's saints.
Ah, nothing brings people together like partaking in physical activity together.
Ninja Custodians.
In the next part, oh boy, this is going to be a talk.
He did appear during the War for Baal, when Lily went to request Sanguinius' personal weapons from the BAs.
Theunderbolt
"Prepare for trouble..."
- Location
- USoA
"Oh no they're hot?!"
- the Devas when they see a Blood Angel without their helmets
Serialkilerwhale
Whale, whale, whale, what do we 'ave 'ere.
- Location
- Here
Only an Inquisitor could expect things to actually be on time in the Imperium.
Renko
Look closer ~☆
- Location
- The Endless Void
This one should really pissed off both Panda and the Emperor!
The Inquisition literally murdered members of their family!