Imrix
Periodically Malevolent QM
Soft power absolutely is, though.
No, they scream "unsanctioned psyker!" or "sorcery!" and the dance continues.
Deus Pater (Exalted/40k)
- Thread starter Maugan Ra
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- Austria
Yes. It goes both ways though, in that Inquisitor on paper having power to do anything does not necessarily mean they can.
Ave Anathema
Ave Imperator
- Location
- Jacksonville Illinois
Our Char Sheet LITERALLY Says that Any Psyker looking at our Soul can tell that were blessed by the Emperor
chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
It's not that hard to ignore (the opinions of) psykers, though, if you're a politician with an Agenda. And if the politicians ignore it, the masses are going to have a pretty hard time getting ahold of that information on their own, considering that sanctioned psykers allowed to be around people are few and far between.
Ave Anathema
Ave Imperator
- Location
- Jacksonville Illinois
the Inquisition Wont theyd Check it out wed be the Equivalent of a living Saint and that would lead some Inquisitorial Asskicking since A living Saint is the next best thing to BIG E Himself Short of Guilliman
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Imrix
Periodically Malevolent QM
Yes, and? That only helps if the person investigating us either a) is a psyker, or b) trusts a psyker at their word. That is a subset of people who are very thin on the ground among the sort of especially fanatical Imperials associated with the Ecclesiarchy that we have pissed off.
The Inquisition is an organisation of whom a notable subset believe that the very existence of Psykers is blasphemy, and that all of them, everywhere, should be put to death by the most expedient means possible, never mind the damage this would do to the Imperium. Even moderate Inquisitors believe that Psykers are necessary evils, untrustworthy things to be exploited for the good of the Imperium, and that is all. If anything, the fact that Psykers vouch for us is more likely to count against us in the Imperium as a whole - see how his witchcraft bedevils those cursed souls, pulling them astray from the Emperor's light to which they are so tenuously leashed, into the evils of idolatry and false prophets!
We voted for the Firebrand, the religious rebel against the Imperium. And then we voted for one of, arguably the most militant spin on that concept. We're not gonna get much mileage out of trying to convince Imperial authorities that we're actually the Emperor's personal prophet.
- Location
- Denmark
- Pronouns
- She/Her
this is not the first time a gold-glowing firebrand with a cause has said they are an incarnation of the emperor, it will not be the last time a gold-glowing firebrand with a cause has said they are an incarnation of the emperor and the imperium has cause and precedent to back any arguments that they are ultimately simple trickery, as has happened all the other times
Some will listen while others won't because people can be really, really good at doing dumb things by running on denial.
For example, some of the High Lords started plotting against Guilliman returned as soon as he'd won the Second Battle of Terra, which saw Daemons running rampant on the planet because the Astronomicon actually went out for more than a month. Bear in mind that Guilliman was being backed by not just the Custodes but also at least one Imperial Saint, who one would think would've made the Emperor's position on the matter very, very clear.
Nix's Warden
Welcome to Hades
- Location
- United States
Speaking of being blessed by the emperor and insetting religion I can't help but find it completely and utterly hilarious that our PC has developed a method of thought/worship that has aliens of all kinds, including the Necrons, Nids, Orks, and Eldar, to be nothing more then manifestations of a galaxy trying to kill humanity. That he can't even be sure that they actually exist or are somekind of horrible illusion created to spread nothing but pain among humanities children.
That shit is legit hilarious.
That shit is legit hilarious.
- Location
- Austria
Iunno about most militant, that probably would've been Drill-Abbot or Sororitas.
Imrix
Periodically Malevolent QM
Hey, anybody remember Ephreal Stern, the Battle Sister who was artificially elevated to sainthood by the combined faith of 700 Sisters pouring the energy of their martyrdom into her in defiance of the daemon torturing her to death? Remember how she was a no-shit icon of the Emperor's light, whose touch could cure Nurgle's Rot, who penned a treatise on the weaknesses of daemonkind accurate enough that the Ruinous Powers fear it, and how the only thing pure enough to contain such knowledge was her own blood? Remember that one time when she ripped a Slaaneshi daemon out of the fellow Sister it was possessing, and beat it to death with her holy touch?
Remember how both the Ordo Malleus and Hereticus declared her a heretic and repeatedly tried to hunt her down? Yeah.
Remember how both the Ordo Malleus and Hereticus declared her a heretic and repeatedly tried to hunt her down? Yeah.
See my previous assessment, here.
- Location
- North America
...Fuck. looks like I have to start praying again.
- Location
- Austria
I imagine that Theologian would be less militant only until schism gets going. After that, all bets are off.
Because hey, theological intra-Ecclesiarchy dispute wherein we use convincing arguments to point out issues and corruption would not be peaceful.
I mean, I love me some general action too, so it's not like it's something bad anyway.
Very minor shame it's not Yes Minister set in Administratum though.
- Location
- U.S.
thing is, following some analysis papers on the symbolism of everything in the 40k setting by relating it to RL and Games workshop, it makes sense.
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
Basically, it boils down to. "The difference between a Living Saint and a clever Heretic is how much they rock the boat".
Since the Ecclesiarchy writes doctrine and all, not the Emperor.
That being said, we will definitely have allies, since not everyone drinks the kool aid. Anyone with True Faith for instance is going to pretty quickly cotton on, as are anyone who listens to their Psykers. But the institutions of the Imperium as a whole stand against us, because the men turning the wheels are chiefly interested in the perpetuation of their own power.
Since the Ecclesiarchy writes doctrine and all, not the Emperor.
That being said, we will definitely have allies, since not everyone drinks the kool aid. Anyone with True Faith for instance is going to pretty quickly cotton on, as are anyone who listens to their Psykers. But the institutions of the Imperium as a whole stand against us, because the men turning the wheels are chiefly interested in the perpetuation of their own power.
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She is also one of the characters who has had her history changed several times over the last couple of editions of the game. It is one thing to say we are going to have enemies within the Higher ranks of the Ecclesiarchy for example, it is quite anther however to say the only rout we have forward is to burn every thing to the ground. Remember we are going to have enemies from without as well as from with in the Imperium. I would only say we need to keep from getting tunnel vision and remember our other enemies and we will be able to do a lot of good.
Just because someone writes am analysis of what they see as the under lying symbolism of things in the 40k setting do not mean that all the dam Orks baying for blood all over the galaxy are a) not actually there and b) that our character can somehow make them not exist by wishing them out of existence. The Emperor though they were real enough to be a threat.
- Location
- U.S.
what when did he say they are not there? he is saying they are creations of galaxy to kill humanity, like the TYPES or counter guardians from Fate.
chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
Technically speaking, that might actually be in the cards for us, though. I don't know of any already existing charms that address that sort of thing, but it'd definitely be thematic.
- Location
- U.S.
this is true, i mean psyker power is a thing and everything has a shadow in the warp reflecting its existence from the material universe. so what happens when you are strong enough to remove that shadow from the warp?
- Location
- [REDACTED]- United States of America
Or a Halo, replete with holy aura and a PHD in demon murder that would make doom-guy proud. (Also living saints are effectively Daemonprinces for the E M P R A H but we don't dwell on that.)
Edit: rephrase
Imrix
Periodically Malevolent QM
No.
Look, people seem to be forgetting that 'Living Saint' is an academic classification applied by an Ecclesiarchical and Inquisitorial conclave. Deciding who is and is not a Living Saint is not an obvious, self-evident matter, it is politics. It is entirely possible, and indeed even likely, that in the history of the Imperium there have been individuals who demonstrated the power and faith of a Living Saint, who were nevertheless burned for heresy because they did not align sufficiently closely with Ecclesiarchical orthodoxy. Again, Ephreal Stern exists, and while the details of her story may have changed she certainly performed holy miracles, and she was still condemned as a heretic and hunted to the point that she had to defect to the Eldar in order to actually get any Chaos-fighting done.
You can have a halo, a holy aura and a PHD in demon murder of such pedigree that Doomguy spontaneuously manifests in order to fistbump you, and still be judged a heretic, because the Imperium is rabidly intolerant, self-destructively insane and zealous to an it-is-actually-killing-them fault like that. If the Emperor himself were reborn in the 41st Millennium, the Ecclesiarchy would probably try to burn him as an apostate demagogue for all his blasphemous talk about rationality and atheism.
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Just look at Emperor With a Text to Speech Device; sure it is silly, but it does illustrate what kind of reaction a reborn Emperor might be looking at.
- Location
- UK
Thanks to the orbital infrastructure, if things get too out of hand they can lock the planet down with the navy.
They can try to escalate the amount of disorder by convincing the Adeptus Arbites to use a heavier hand.
They can send in assassins (a Vindicare is an obvious weak spot that we have limited options to fix, but we probably have to worry about lesser assassins first).
Due to all the holy tombs etc, they probably won't be prepared to declare exterminatus or even bombard the planet. So in the event they start trying to reclaim the planet it will probably turn into a ground war.
They can try to escalate the amount of disorder by convincing the Adeptus Arbites to use a heavier hand.
They can send in assassins (a Vindicare is an obvious weak spot that we have limited options to fix, but we probably have to worry about lesser assassins first).
Due to all the holy tombs etc, they probably won't be prepared to declare exterminatus or even bombard the planet. So in the event they start trying to reclaim the planet it will probably turn into a ground war.
Chapter II. The Sentence is Exile
- Location
- London, England
You are fire and light, the wrath of god given physical form, one righteous man imbued with the power of the divine in order to bring sense back to this age of heretics and madmen. You stand vindicated on the steps of your own temple, an icon of glory held up before the gaze of a million faithful souls, and before you stands the criminal who brought you to this point.
It would be so easy to destroy him… to raise your hands to the heavens and call upon the faithful masses to bring you the head of the man who dared to strike at an instrument of god. They would obey, you can feel it in your bones, and those handful of souls that remained loyal to their Inquisitor in the face of your condemnation would not be enough to stem the tide. And yet… you do not.
It would be slightly harder, but by no means impossible, to bring him to your side. You do not know much of this Inquisitor, for the nature of his office serves to occlude the reputation of its holders beyond a rare few exceptions, but he is answerable to his peers and such sinister figures would not send someone for you, for a Cardinal, unless they trusted both his abilities and resolve. To bring a foe such as that to your side would be a potent boon indeed, and yet…
The Inquisitor is afraid, you see that in an instant, for in his brilliant eyes is a gleam of terror such as even the most experienced of men has rarely experienced, but there is also doubt. This is a man who thought himself righteous, now confronted with evidence that might well change that assessment, and while such a wavering heart is easily swayed it is also not one that you care to possess. A man who would burn a thousand innocent people and count himself righteous until the very moment the light of god descends to chastise him is not a man you want by your side, not if your dreams are to ever come true.
You will not kill him, for you acted to avert death this day and you will not betray that intent, but neither will you keep him close.
"Begone," you say, and the force of your voice kicks clouds of dust up into the air all across the square, "begone, Inquisitor, and do not return. Go back to your masters and your peers, and think on what has transpired here today."
The Inquisitor licks his lips, pallid tongue gliding against silvered incisors, and lowers the inferno pistol back to his belt. He glances sideways, taking in the situation with a quick sweep of his eyes, and you know what it is he sees; an army of the faithful prepared to wash over him like a tide, held back by a cordon of troops that stare at you even now with tears in their eyes. If he strikes you now, if he can bring himself to dare such a thing, it will lead to his death and may well fail to achieve anything at all.
You do not think you can withstand a second blast from that pistol, but such knowledge is not readily shared, and the appearance of invulnerability is ever bit as useful as the real thing.
"What would you have me say to them?" He asks, and to his credit his voice remains steady even in the face of revelation, "There will be a great many questions that need answering…"
You shake your head, not in anger but in sorrow, and cross the space between you in three lengthy strides. You place one hand upon his shoulder, and when you look him in the eyes it is to find a gaze that waters before the brilliance of your divinity.
"I have no word for them, and no message for you," you say softly, "tell them what you wish, but do not imagine you do so at my behest, or as my agent in the world beyond. You are not worthy of such regard."
The Inquisitor grits his teeth, weather-beaten face pale with the implications of what you just said, and after a moment of silence he turns on his heel and walks away. You raise one hand and the crowd parts before him, an ocean of humanity permitting egress at your command, allowing him and his croneys to withdraw to the space port unmolested.
You watch him go.
When he is lost to sight, you turn your attention back to the crowd, to the watching soldiers and the gleaming lenses of the cameras. The people stare at you in silence, many of them weeping openly at the sight of your light, and you know for a fact that it is only the tight confines of the crowd that prevents many of them from prostrating themselves upon the ground.
There is much that you could say here, but only one thing that can reasonably be your first priority.
"Release my flock," you say, and a hundred soldiers jump to obey as though heated brands might sear their flesh for a heartbeat's delay. They cut away the bindings that hold your followers to the stakes, and with trembling hands help the young and old alike down from their lofty perches to stand upon the ground once more. These people, the core of your flock, they do prostrate themselves, foreheads pressed against the ground and mouths murmuring an endless stream of gratitude and prayer to you and the Emperor both.
You lift your hand, and study it for a moment, observing the way the golden light flows around your flesh like a mantle of water. It feels right, exhilarating in a way no sensation prior to this day can hope to match, but you can already feel it beginning to fade. You think of… a roaring hearth, slowing cooling as the flames drop away, the promise of embers on the horizon to occupy time until next you need the inferno within. The analogy feels inexact, but until you have the time to sit down and pen some formal records of this event such things are all you have to go by.
Still, this is not the moment for such quiet introspection. You have a city hanging on your every word and a flock spared from death to tend to first, both of which must be done before any other task might reasonably be begun.
"Return to your homes, my children," you say, grateful that the broadcast arrays can be relied upon to carry your words to the furthest edges of the crowd without the need for extensive effort on your part, "go back to your family, your neighbors, your community. Give thanks and take solace in the bonds that hold you together, for they will be your source of strength in days to come."
You tilt your head and look up at the sky, crystal clear and pale azure in hue. Up there, beyond the atmosphere, are the orbiting docks and infrastructure of Sanguis, watched carefully by the iron raptors of the Imperial Navy, and beyond… beyond is the Imperium entire, an Empire of galactic scope that will not welcome your words or heed your wisdom without careful thought and prudent effort. The weight of that burden threatens to crush you, as it has so many times before, but now of all days… now you are ready for it.
"Return to your kin, my faithful, and await my words," you say with a firm nod, turning your attention back to the crowd, "I will address this world entire within the coming days, and pass on to you what the Emperor Above All has passed on to me. For now… rest. You will need your strength."
The crowd is already dispersing, the hearts of the people soothed by your words even as their minds are enraptured by the promise of your divine wisdom, and with a last look back you turn on your heel and make your way back inside the cathedral.
You find the Sister on her knees just beyond the doors, her helmet removed and her pure white hair shining in the reflected light of your soul. Her eyes blaze with devotion, and you are struck by the macabre thought that she would give you her life itself in this moment, without hesitation, if only you would ask for it.
"Holiness," she says, and there is a much more literal edge to that honorific now than there was mere minutes before, "please, forgive my doubts. I should never have tried to bar your path."
"On the contrary, Sister, had you not I might not have tempered my will enough to go out there in the first place," you say warmly, and with a single hand bid her ride and stand at your side, "never apologize for loyal duty offered with pure intent, for that is all the Emperor could ever demand of us."
"As you say, Blessed One," the Sister replies, bowing her head as she returns her helmet to its place, "what will you do now."
You pause, rubbing your jaw in thought. "What indeed…"
It would be so easy to destroy him… to raise your hands to the heavens and call upon the faithful masses to bring you the head of the man who dared to strike at an instrument of god. They would obey, you can feel it in your bones, and those handful of souls that remained loyal to their Inquisitor in the face of your condemnation would not be enough to stem the tide. And yet… you do not.
It would be slightly harder, but by no means impossible, to bring him to your side. You do not know much of this Inquisitor, for the nature of his office serves to occlude the reputation of its holders beyond a rare few exceptions, but he is answerable to his peers and such sinister figures would not send someone for you, for a Cardinal, unless they trusted both his abilities and resolve. To bring a foe such as that to your side would be a potent boon indeed, and yet…
**Maugan Ra** rolled **7** <10; 3; 2; 10; 4; 1> # read intentions.
Guile 4, success. (You had double 9s from a charm and, more importantly, three automatic successes from your anima being at the bonfire level when testing a favoured ability.
Every NPC in this quest has an associated trait known as their 'Guile', which roughly represents their ability and willingness to hide their beliefs, motivations and general feelings behind an assumed mask. This does not make them inherently untrustworthy, simply disinclined to wear their heart 'on their sleeves'. By rolling Wits+Socialize you may attempt to pierce this Guile and get a read on what a particular target believes, holds dear or intends in this scene.
The read intentions action is not magic; you can only deduce facts about their personality if it is in some way relevant to their observed behavior. Watching a bureaucrat go about his day will not imbue you with awareness of the hopeless love he feels for his superior; watching the same bureaucrat sigh mournfully to himself at lunch while watching their paramour across the hall might do.
Naturally, there are charms that change this.
In any case, the Inquisitor is currently experiencing an emotion of 'Terrified awe' and has a major intimacy of "I am a righteous man".
Guile 4, success. (You had double 9s from a charm and, more importantly, three automatic successes from your anima being at the bonfire level when testing a favoured ability.
Every NPC in this quest has an associated trait known as their 'Guile', which roughly represents their ability and willingness to hide their beliefs, motivations and general feelings behind an assumed mask. This does not make them inherently untrustworthy, simply disinclined to wear their heart 'on their sleeves'. By rolling Wits+Socialize you may attempt to pierce this Guile and get a read on what a particular target believes, holds dear or intends in this scene.
The read intentions action is not magic; you can only deduce facts about their personality if it is in some way relevant to their observed behavior. Watching a bureaucrat go about his day will not imbue you with awareness of the hopeless love he feels for his superior; watching the same bureaucrat sigh mournfully to himself at lunch while watching their paramour across the hall might do.
Naturally, there are charms that change this.
In any case, the Inquisitor is currently experiencing an emotion of 'Terrified awe' and has a major intimacy of "I am a righteous man".
The Inquisitor is afraid, you see that in an instant, for in his brilliant eyes is a gleam of terror such as even the most experienced of men has rarely experienced, but there is also doubt. This is a man who thought himself righteous, now confronted with evidence that might well change that assessment, and while such a wavering heart is easily swayed it is also not one that you care to possess. A man who would burn a thousand innocent people and count himself righteous until the very moment the light of god descends to chastise him is not a man you want by your side, not if your dreams are to ever come true.
You will not kill him, for you acted to avert death this day and you will not betray that intent, but neither will you keep him close.
"Begone," you say, and the force of your voice kicks clouds of dust up into the air all across the square, "begone, Inquisitor, and do not return. Go back to your masters and your peers, and think on what has transpired here today."
The Inquisitor licks his lips, pallid tongue gliding against silvered incisors, and lowers the inferno pistol back to his belt. He glances sideways, taking in the situation with a quick sweep of his eyes, and you know what it is he sees; an army of the faithful prepared to wash over him like a tide, held back by a cordon of troops that stare at you even now with tears in their eyes. If he strikes you now, if he can bring himself to dare such a thing, it will lead to his death and may well fail to achieve anything at all.
You do not think you can withstand a second blast from that pistol, but such knowledge is not readily shared, and the appearance of invulnerability is ever bit as useful as the real thing.
"What would you have me say to them?" He asks, and to his credit his voice remains steady even in the face of revelation, "There will be a great many questions that need answering…"
You shake your head, not in anger but in sorrow, and cross the space between you in three lengthy strides. You place one hand upon his shoulder, and when you look him in the eyes it is to find a gaze that waters before the brilliance of your divinity.
"I have no word for them, and no message for you," you say softly, "tell them what you wish, but do not imagine you do so at my behest, or as my agent in the world beyond. You are not worthy of such regard."
The Inquisitor grits his teeth, weather-beaten face pale with the implications of what you just said, and after a moment of silence he turns on his heel and walks away. You raise one hand and the crowd parts before him, an ocean of humanity permitting egress at your command, allowing him and his croneys to withdraw to the space port unmolested.
You watch him go.
When he is lost to sight, you turn your attention back to the crowd, to the watching soldiers and the gleaming lenses of the cameras. The people stare at you in silence, many of them weeping openly at the sight of your light, and you know for a fact that it is only the tight confines of the crowd that prevents many of them from prostrating themselves upon the ground.
There is much that you could say here, but only one thing that can reasonably be your first priority.
"Release my flock," you say, and a hundred soldiers jump to obey as though heated brands might sear their flesh for a heartbeat's delay. They cut away the bindings that hold your followers to the stakes, and with trembling hands help the young and old alike down from their lofty perches to stand upon the ground once more. These people, the core of your flock, they do prostrate themselves, foreheads pressed against the ground and mouths murmuring an endless stream of gratitude and prayer to you and the Emperor both.
You lift your hand, and study it for a moment, observing the way the golden light flows around your flesh like a mantle of water. It feels right, exhilarating in a way no sensation prior to this day can hope to match, but you can already feel it beginning to fade. You think of… a roaring hearth, slowing cooling as the flames drop away, the promise of embers on the horizon to occupy time until next you need the inferno within. The analogy feels inexact, but until you have the time to sit down and pen some formal records of this event such things are all you have to go by.
Still, this is not the moment for such quiet introspection. You have a city hanging on your every word and a flock spared from death to tend to first, both of which must be done before any other task might reasonably be begun.
"Return to your homes, my children," you say, grateful that the broadcast arrays can be relied upon to carry your words to the furthest edges of the crowd without the need for extensive effort on your part, "go back to your family, your neighbors, your community. Give thanks and take solace in the bonds that hold you together, for they will be your source of strength in days to come."
You tilt your head and look up at the sky, crystal clear and pale azure in hue. Up there, beyond the atmosphere, are the orbiting docks and infrastructure of Sanguis, watched carefully by the iron raptors of the Imperial Navy, and beyond… beyond is the Imperium entire, an Empire of galactic scope that will not welcome your words or heed your wisdom without careful thought and prudent effort. The weight of that burden threatens to crush you, as it has so many times before, but now of all days… now you are ready for it.
"Return to your kin, my faithful, and await my words," you say with a firm nod, turning your attention back to the crowd, "I will address this world entire within the coming days, and pass on to you what the Emperor Above All has passed on to me. For now… rest. You will need your strength."
The crowd is already dispersing, the hearts of the people soothed by your words even as their minds are enraptured by the promise of your divine wisdom, and with a last look back you turn on your heel and make your way back inside the cathedral.
You find the Sister on her knees just beyond the doors, her helmet removed and her pure white hair shining in the reflected light of your soul. Her eyes blaze with devotion, and you are struck by the macabre thought that she would give you her life itself in this moment, without hesitation, if only you would ask for it.
"Holiness," she says, and there is a much more literal edge to that honorific now than there was mere minutes before, "please, forgive my doubts. I should never have tried to bar your path."
"On the contrary, Sister, had you not I might not have tempered my will enough to go out there in the first place," you say warmly, and with a single hand bid her ride and stand at your side, "never apologize for loyal duty offered with pure intent, for that is all the Emperor could ever demand of us."
"As you say, Blessed One," the Sister replies, bowing her head as she returns her helmet to its place, "what will you do now."
You pause, rubbing your jaw in thought. "What indeed…"
Article: Choose one of the following options to pursue immediately.
[ ] Approach the Sororitas. The Order of the Argent Shroud are here in some number, and represent some of the finest and most pious warriors to be found in this entire Sector. Speak with them, and sway them to your cause.
[ ] Commune with the Holy. You have been chosen for some great purpose, but the way ahead is yet uncertain. Offer prayer to the Emperor and consult the records of the martyred saints; perhaps you might find answers to who and what you have now become.
[ ] Muster the Clergy. You are Cardinal of this world, and within the priesthood your authority is beyond question. Summon the other priests and holy men on this world to your side, that you might lay the foundation for your future success.
[ ] Shepherd the Flock. Access the planetary address system and announce to the world what has happened here and what it is you intend to do next. You will preach to a congregation of billions.
[ ] Write in.