Echoes of Creation (30k/Exalted)

Yzarc · May 18, 2024

History and Origins:
The desert tribes trace their origins back to the time when Colchis was completely under the rule of the Covenant, a tyrannical regime that enslaved and oppressed its people. Many of the tribes' ancestors were slaves, exiles, or individuals deemed undesirable by the Covenant, who fled into the harsh desert to escape persecution. Over time, these disparate groups came together to form the desert tribes, united by their shared struggle for freedom and survival. These tribes have since developed a distinct way of life centered around survival, community, and spirituality.

Social Structure:
The social structure of the desert tribes is often egalitarian, with leadership roles determined by merit, wisdom, and the respect of the tribe. Elders hold significant influence, their knowledge and experience guiding the tribe through the challenges of desert life. While there may be a recognized leader or chief, decisions are often made collectively, with input from all members of the tribe.

Nomadic Lifestyle:
Due to the harsh and unforgiving nature of the desert, the tribes are often nomadic, moving from place to place in search of resources such as water, food, and shelter. This nomadic lifestyle has shaped their culture, instilling in them a deep connection to the land and a sense of adaptability and resilience.

Spirituality and Beliefs:
The desert tribes have a deep spiritual connection to the land and the spirits they believe inhabit it. They worship the spirits, believing that they protect and guide them in their daily lives. Rituals and ceremonies play a significant role in tribal life, marking important events such as births, deaths, and seasonal changes.

Survival and Adaptation:
Survival in the desert is paramount, and the tribes have developed a range of skills and techniques to cope with the harsh environment. They are expert hunters and gatherers, able to find food and water where others would perish. They have also developed a keen understanding of the desert's flora and fauna, knowing which plants are edible and which animals are safe to hunt.

Conflict and Cooperation:
While the tribes value cooperation and solidarity, they are not strangers to conflict. Rivalries over resources, territory, or perceived slights can lead to clashes between tribes. However, they also recognize the importance of unity in the face of external threats, and alliances between tribes are not uncommon, especially when faced with a common enemy.

Art and Craftsmanship:
Despite their harsh environment, the desert tribes are skilled artisans, creating beautiful and intricate works of art using materials found in the desert. They are known for their pottery, jewelry, and textiles, which often feature intricate patterns and designs inspired by the desert landscape and their spiritual beliefs.

Resources:
In a desert environment, resources that provide sustenance, protection, and comfort are highly valued by tribes. Here are some key resources that desert tribes prioritize:

1. Water: The most critical resource in a desert, water is essential for survival. Tribes value sources of water such as oases, wells, or access to rivers. They would also develop methods to collect and store water, such as water skins or cisterns.

2. Food: Desert tribes value food sources that can withstand the harsh environment, such as drought-resistant plants, desert animals, and livestock that can survive on sparse vegetation. They may also trade for food items that they cannot produce themselves.

3. Shelter: Protection from the extreme heat and cold of the desert is crucial. Tribes value materials for constructing shelters, such as tents made from animal skins or woven from desert plants, as well as natural formations like caves or rock overhangs.

4. Clothing: Desert tribes value clothing that provides protection from the sun, sand, and wind. They may use lightweight, loose-fitting garments made from breathable fabrics or animal skins.

5. Tools and Weapons: Tools for hunting, gathering, and crafting are essential. Tribes would value items such as knives, spears, bows, and arrows, as well as tools for building and repairing shelters.

6. Medicinal Plants: Knowledge of medicinal plants that can treat common ailments and injuries in the desert environment are valued. Tribes may also value access to healers or shamans with knowledge of traditional medicine.

7. Trade Goods: Desert tribes would value items that they can trade with other tribes or settlements, such as precious metals, gemstones, spices, and textiles.

8. Livestock: Animals such as Grox that can provide meat and other useable products would be highly valued by desert tribes for their utility and trade value.

9. Fire: In the desert, where fuel may be scarce, the ability to start and maintain a fire would be highly valued for cooking, warmth, and protection.

10. Knowledge and Skills: Desert tribes would value individuals with knowledge and skills that are beneficial to the community, such as hunting, tracking, healing, crafting, and leadership abilities.

Overall, the resources valued by desert tribes are those that enable survival and provide a level of comfort and security in a challenging environment.

Yzarc · May 19, 2024

Colchis - 831.M30

The desert sun hung low on the horizon, casting long, ethereal shadows over the bustling caravan. The transformation of your desert tribe into a thriving community of skilled artisans and engineers had been nothing short of monumental, but progress had come with its share of challenges. As you stood at the heart of the camp, the echoes of recent explosions still haunted the air, a stark reminder of the internal strife that now threatened to tear the tribe apart.

A council was convened, a gathering of your advisors, the tribe's elders, and the accused saboteurs. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of impending judgment pressing down on everyone present. You had made a difficult decision, one that would shape the future of your people.

The saboteurs, a group of traditionalists led by an elder named Malik, stood before you with their heads held high. They were not cowards, nor were they ashamed of their actions. They believed, with all their hearts, that they had acted in the best interest of the tribe.

"We did what we thought was right," Malik said, his voice steady but filled with a somber resolve. "Our traditions, our way of life, they're being overshadowed by these new technologies. We feared we were losing our identity."

"I understand your fears," you replied, meeting his gaze. "But sabotage and violence cannot be condoned. They undermine the unity of our tribe and endanger everyone. Your actions have consequences."

Malik and his followers bowed their heads, accepting your judgment with a dignity that was both heartbreaking and admirable.

"We accept our fate," Malik said. "But know that our loyalty to the tribe remains steadfast. We did this out of love, not malice."

"Your loyalty is not in question," you assured them. "Your actions, however, cannot go unpunished. You will face execution, but it will be dignified and honorable. Your families will be cared for, and you will have one final opportunity to speak of your woes before judgment is carried out."

The following day, as the sun began its ascent, the tribe gathered in a solemn circle around a raised platform. The air was heavy with a sense of impending finality. The accused stood together, their expressions resolute, ready to meet their end with courage.

Malik was the first to step forward.

"I speak not only for myself but for all of us," he began. "We acted out of a deep sense of duty to preserve our heritage. We feared that the rapid changes would erode the values and traditions that define us. Our methods were wrong, but our intentions were pure."

You listened intently, respecting their final words.

"Your concerns are valid, and your fears are understood," you responded. "But change is inevitable. We must find a way to honor our past while embracing the future. This is the path to true progress."

One by one, each saboteur spoke their piece, their voices steady and filled with conviction. They spoke of their love for the tribe, their fears of losing their identity, and their hopes for a future where tradition and innovation could coexist.

When the last words were spoken, the time for judgment had come. The execution was carried out swiftly and with the utmost respect. The saboteurs faced their fate with dignity, their final moments a testament to their unwavering loyalty to the tribe.

As their bodies were laid to rest, you made a vow to the gathered tribe.

"We will honor their memory," you declared. "We will remember their concerns and strive to find a balance between tradition and progress. Their deaths will not be in vain."

The tribe dispersed, a somber silence settling over the camp. You walked among your people, offering words of comfort and reassurance. The path ahead would be difficult, but you were determined to lead your tribe towards a future that respected its past while embracing the possibilities of the future.

Knowing that this would not be the end of it, you made your decision and tasked Lorgar with addressing the cultural divide that threatened to splinter the tribe.

Lorgar called for a meeting, his voice steady and confident. He began by acknowledging the fears and concerns of both the traditionalists and the innovators, seeking common ground.

"Brothers and sisters," Lorgar began, his voice carrying over the assembled crowd, "I understand the fear of change. Our traditions have guided us for generations, providing us with strength and identity. Yet, the new ways bring opportunities for growth and survival in this harsh desert."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing. "Humans are a product of the air we breathe, the food we consume, and the water we drink, all gifts from nature and the spirits. Therefore, self-belief in our potential is faith in nature and the spirits that have always guided us. The old ways of honoring spirits and nature are, in essence, a belief in humanity itself."

The crowd listened intently as Lorgar spoke. His words resonated with many, bridging the gap between the old and the new. He continued, explaining his awakening and the profound realization it brought about the nature of existence.

"Existence is a delicate balance of spirit and body," he said. "The Motive Force, the flow of existence, comprises the essence of our souls and the catalyst for change. Look at the tools we wield, spears made of bone, containing the spirits of the animals, and the metal that comes from the earth. Can we deny the spirits that gave us these materials? The guns and machines we now possess are imbued with the spirits of the earth and the ingenuity of humanity."

Lorgar's words wove a tapestry of interconnectedness, illustrating how the spirits of the land, nature, and machinery are all part of a greater whole. "The soul and the body are composed of many parts, just as the spirits of nature and machines form the fabric of our world. We must not fall into the trap of seeing ourselves as separate from existence, from the spirits of nature and machines. We are all part of the same tapestry, woven together by the threads of life and spirit."

As Lorgar spoke, a newfound sense of unity began to take root among the tribe. His vision of interconnectedness, of honoring both the old ways and the new, began to bridge the divide that had threatened to tear them apart. The tribe listened, their hearts and minds opening to the possibility of a future where tradition and innovation could coexist harmoniously.

"We must embrace our heritage while also welcoming the future," Lorgar concluded. "In doing so, we will forge a stronger, more resilient tribe, capable of thriving in this harsh desert and beyond. Let us move forward together, as one."

Lorgar gestures to the horizon, where the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the desert. "Ancestor spirits, animal spirits, nature spirits, machine spirits," he says, his voice resonating with conviction, "the names may change, but the essence remains the same. The universe is a constant, unchanging in its fundamental truths. It speaks to us in three languages: information, data, and knowledge, observing and being observed."

He looks around at the faces of the tribe, seeing a mixture of understanding and contemplation. "We, as a tribe, have three ways of saying 'We are.' Let us embrace this unity. Let us honor our traditions while welcoming the innovations that ensure our survival and prosperity. Together, we can forge a future that respects our past and embraces our potential."

His words echo in the silence that follows. Slowly, the tribe members begin to nod in agreement, understanding the wisdom in Lorgar's message. The elders, initially resistant, see the merit in his vision of unity.

Over the coming weeks, Lorgar works tirelessly to implement his vision. He leads ceremonies that honor the old ways while incorporating the new technologies. He teaches the younger generation about the interconnectedness of all things, fostering a sense of respect and reverence for both nature and innovation.

He speaks to the tribe about the importance of the Motive Force, the flow of existence, and how it connects all aspects of life. "The tools we use, the machines we build, and the traditions we uphold are all manifestations of the same force. By understanding this, we can bridge the gap between the old and the new."

Lorgar's teachings slowly begin to transform the tribe. The fear of change diminishes as people come to see that the new ways do not erase their identity but rather enhance it. The tribe becomes a harmonious blend of tradition and progress, united by a shared understanding of their place in the universe.

In time, the cultural divide that once threatened to tear the tribe apart becomes a source of strength. The tribe, now unified, thrives in the harsh desert landscape, guided by the wisdom of their ancestors and the innovations of the present.

Lorgar's efforts bear fruit, creating a community that honors its past while embracing its future. The tribe, once divided, stands strong and united, ready to face whatever challenges the desert may bring.

As Lorgar tirelessly worked to unify the tribe's diverse beliefs, you took it upon yourself to address another pressing issue: the heightened tempers and unrest among the people. Despite the effectiveness of the talismans, it was clear that more was needed to help the tribe adjust to the rapid changes and maintain their cultural identity.

You decided to introduce a series of meditation techniques that could be seamlessly integrated into the daily lives of the tribe. These meditative prayers would be designed to calm the mind and strengthen self-control, providing a way for the people to find inner peace amidst the turmoil.

Your journey began with a visit to the heart of the desert, where the hunters were preparing for a day's expedition. As you approached, you could see the determination in their eyes, mixed with a hint of anxiety. You gathered them around and spoke softly, your voice carrying the weight of your intention.

"Brothers and sisters, I understand the challenges we face," you began. "Our traditions are not just rituals, but a way of life that connects us to our ancestors and the spirits of nature. As we embrace new technologies, we must also preserve our heritage. Today, I wish to share with you a way to find balance and peace, even in the midst of your daily tasks."

You then introduced the concept of moving meditation, a technique that allowed individuals to enter a state of meditative prayer while engaged in routine activities. "When you hunt, track, or perform any task that doesn't require your full focus, let your mind slip into a meditative state. Let your movements become a prayer to the spirits, a dance of gratitude and connection."

To illustrate, you demonstrated a simple breathing exercise, combined with a rhythmic chant that could be repeated silently. The hunters followed your lead, their initial skepticism giving way to curiosity. As they practiced, you could see a noticeable change in their demeanor. Their movements became more fluid, their expressions more serene.

Encouraged by this initial success, you moved on to the craftsmen in the workshop. The air was filled with the sounds of hammers striking anvils and saws cutting through wood. You gathered the artisans around and spoke of the power of self-belief and the connection between their work and the spirits.

"Every tool you craft, every weapon you forge, is a testament to your skill and dedication," you said. "Inscribe your personal prayers and the knowledge of who forged and used these tools onto their surfaces. Let your work become a living prayer, a bridge between the old ways and the new."

The craftsmen nodded, understanding the significance of your words. You then introduced them to a meditation technique that could be performed while working. "As you shape metal or carve wood, let your mind focus on the rhythm of your movements. Breathe deeply and repeat a silent chant of gratitude and strength. Let the act of creation become a meditative prayer."

The response was immediate. The craftsmen embraced the technique, finding solace and inspiration in the meditative state. Their work took on a new level of artistry, imbued with a sense of spiritual connection.

Next, you visited the gatherers, who ventured into the desert to collect resources. You spoke of the ancient tradition of hunting and gathering, emphasizing that it was not disappearing but evolving. "When you seek out metals and resources, think of it as a hunt, a journey into the heart of the desert to provide for the tribe."

You introduced a meditation technique that involved mindful walking and silent prayers. "As you walk, let each step become a prayer. Focus on the sensation of your feet touching the ground, the rhythm of your breath. Let the desert guide you, and find peace in the journey."

The gatherers took to the technique with enthusiasm, their journeys becoming more than mere tasks but spiritual quests. They returned with not only resources but a renewed sense of purpose and calm.

Throughout these visits, you noticed a remarkable change in the tribe. The moving meditations helped people manage their tempers and anxieties, fostering a sense of unity and self-belief. The techniques provided a way to retain cultural traditions while embracing new ways of life.

As Lorgar continued his efforts to bridge the cultural divide, your meditation techniques complemented his work, creating a harmonious balance between tradition and progress. The tribe began to see that their heritage and the new technologies were not in opposition but could coexist, each enhancing the other.

In the end, the combined efforts of you and Lorgar brought about a profound transformation. The tribe emerged stronger and more unified, their spirits lifted by the newfound harmony between the old ways and the new. The desert, once an unforgiving adversary, became a place of spiritual growth and resilience, a testament to the enduring strength and adaptability of the tribe.

As this was occuring, Thalassa was busy readying herself for a pivotal meeting with the revered elders. Today's endeavor was of utmost importance: to renegotiate the tribe's system for distributing its most precious resource, water.

With a fortifying breath, Thalassa steeled herself for the challenging negotiations ahead. She understood that water was not just a necessity but the very essence of their community's existence. Recent shortages had bred tension and uncertainty, pressing the elders, custodians of tradition and sagacity, to safeguard their way of life amidst burgeoning technological strides. Yet Thalassa remained resolute in her quest for equilibrium, one that would secure the tribe's future prosperity.

As she entered the council tent, a sense of gravity enveloped her. The elders, their visages etched with lines of time and wisdom, awaited her. Tariq, the eldest and most venerated among them, sat at the circle's apex. His eyes, though weary, gleamed with a spark of intrigue and optimism.

"Archmagos Thalassa, we are indebted to your endeavors," Tariq intoned, his voice a bastion of steadiness weighed down by the gravity of their circumstances. "We stand on the precipice of crisis. Our water reservoirs are dwindling, and while the advancements beckon promise, their reliability remains untested. We must devise a method to ensure every member of our tribe has access to precious water."

Thalassa nodded, her gaze sweeping over the council of elders. "Thank you, Elder Tariq. I grasp the gravity of our plight. I believe we can forge a solution that upholds our traditions while embracing the new vistas before us. I present several proposals that I implore we discuss and refine together."

She unfurled a grand map of the settlement, detailing various resource nodes and distribution routes. The elders leaned in, captivated.

"Firstly," Thalassa began, gesturing to the water condensers, "we must augment the efficiency of our condensers. While the arid climate stymies their output, we can amplify their performance through diligent maintenance and strategic emplacement. I propose the formation of a task force to oversee this."

The elders murmured in agreement, though Tariq raised a hand. "This is a commendable start, Thalassa, yet it addresses but a facet of our dilemma. Equitable water distribution must also be considered."

"Indeed," Thalassa concurred. "My second proposition entails the implementation of a tiered rationing system. In times of scarcity, we can prioritize water for essential needs such as drinking and cooking, while curbing its use for other purposes. This system can be adaptable based on water availability."

Elder Nima, renowned for her pragmatism, leaned forward. "And how do we ensure the fairness of this rationing? It must be equitable, lest we sow discord."

"We shall require communal engagement," Thalassa asserted. "By appointing respected individuals from each sector to oversee the rationing, we can ensure transparency and fairness. This way, all have a voice in resource allocation."

The elders exchanged pensive glances. Tariq nodded contemplatively. "This bears promise, Thalassa. Yet, what of our enduring needs? We cannot subsist on rationing indefinitely."

A smile graced Thalassa's lips. "Which brings me to my third proposal: investment in Community Water Management Committees. We form a committee composed of elders, shamans, and trusted community members to oversee the fair distribution and management of water resources. No one can cry foul if the honored and respected elders are the ones overseeing the distribution of water."

The discourse persisted, with each elder contributing insights and apprehensions. Through the passing hours, Thalassa and the elders fashioned numerous proposals, each addressing varied facets of the water crisis.

CHOOSE 1:

[] Enhanced Condenser Maintenance: Establishing a dedicated task force to optimize the placement and maintenance of water condensers, ensuring maximum efficiency.

[] Tiered Rationing System: Implementing a fair and transparent rationing system, prioritizing essential uses during times of scarcity.

[] Community Water Management Committees: Forming committees composed of elders, shamans, and trusted community members to oversee the fair distribution and management of water resources.

Each choice has different effort, resources and power requirements. Balance your resource and power with the Water Production and consumption.

DragonParadox · May 19, 2024

List of Worrying Things(TM) the Colchisians Do

By Malchador the Sigilite

Alter the Geneseed of an entire Legion at a distance of hundreds of light-years through ~~Sorcery~~ Ancient Tribal Rituals.
Did I mention they practice ~~Sorcery~~ Shamanism? Yeah, occasionally one of them will suddenly gain a whole new psychic talent because they 'made a wish' to the tribal leader.
Attempt to teach Enuncia to ambitious Archmagi for an alliance.
Graft entirely new fields of study onto tech priests in spite of having previously not been advanced enough to make a Laz Gun.
Forge Auramite into mythical materials that should not exist outside the pages of stories lost to time.
Awaken a Primarch to a full understanding of their power and nature though... er glowing golden martial arts. Adam is there something you're not telling me? Lots of people like Anime these days you know.
Preach entirely novel Mechanicum ~~Heresies~~ Creeds.
Live in a warp rift.
Shape the land into a paradise through wishes *checks notes* No, no, my mistake, it's Ancient Tribal Rituals again
Threatened to kill the Dark Gods... warp Xenos, I mean Warp Xenos of course, in the process of reading the mind of one of their servants
Gained the insight for how to make space marines from 'An alternative timeline future version of Corvus Corax' usurping something which er... was probably Kairos Fateweaver
Made Space marines with... perfect Essence tools. Adam you would not happen to know how someone could live inside her own name? Just something they mentioned.

TBC...

Yzarc · May 20, 2024

Colchis - 831.M30

The desert sun hung low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the vast expanse of sand dunes. The elders had gathered once more, their weathered faces illuminated by the dying light. Thalassa stood at the center of the council, her voice steady as she presented the final options for the redistribution of resources. After days of deliberation, heated debates, and heartfelt appeals, the tribe was ready to make a decision that would shape their future.

"The Tiered Rationing System offers the most equitable solution," Thalassa declared, her eyes scanning the circle of elders. "It ensures that all members of our tribe receive the resources they need, while prioritizing those who contribute most to our survival."

The elders nodded in agreement, their expressions a mix of relief and determination. Elder Malik, once a staunch traditionalist, spoke first.

"We must adapt to survive," he said, his voice resolute. "This system respects our traditions while embracing the changes necessary for our continued prosperity."

With unanimous consent, the Tiered Rationing System was adopted.

In the days that followed the council's decision, you and Thalassa dedicated yourselves to strengthening the tribe. The first order of business was to augment your warriors. Gathering your advisors, skilled healers, and the tribe's most adept engineers, you brainstormed ways to enhance the combat effectiveness of your fighters.

"If we need to give our soldiers an edge," Thalassa stated, her voice resolute. "Combat stims will be the best choice. They provide temporary boosts in strength and speed and simplify our logistics, but we must ensure they are safe and sustainable."

Raheem, a knowledgeable advisor, stepped forward. "We can create a balanced formula that taps into the natural resilience of our people," he proposed. "Combining ancient herbal remedies with modern stimulants could yield potent results."

Together, you and Thalassa supervised the creation of these combat stims, ensuring they were tested rigorously before being distributed to the warriors. Each dose was meticulously crafted to provide enhanced reflexes, strength, and endurance without compromising the health of the user.

As the days passed, you and Thalassa stood at the heart of the camp, overseeing the creation of combat stims that would revolutionize your tribe's approach to warfare. The decision to implement these enhancements was not taken lightly; it was a step into the unknown, fraught with both potential and peril.

"Every dose must be perfect," Thalassa reminded Raheem and the Tech-priests gathered in her laboratory. "We cannot afford any mistakes."

The air was thick with the scent of herbs and the hum of machinery as the alchemists combined ancient knowledge with new technology. Glass vials filled with luminescent liquid lined the tables, each one a promise of augmented strength, speed, and resilience.

"We need to ensure that the stims provide the desired effects without any harmful side effects," you said, pacing the room. "Our warriors' lives depend on this."

Thalassa nodded, her eyes scanning the notes and formulas spread out before her. "Begin the testing phase," she commanded. Raheem moved with precision, administering the stims to a select group of volunteers.

The volunteers, seasoned warriors of the tribe, stepped forward with a mix of determination and apprehension. They understood the stakes. Each dose was administered under careful observation, the effects monitored and recorded with meticulous detail.

As the first warrior received the stim, you watched closely. His eyes widened momentarily, then he straightened, his muscles visibly tightening as the potion took effect. He moved with newfound agility and strength, performing a series of combat maneuvers with remarkable ease.

"It's working," you said, a hint of relief in your voice. "But we need to test for endurance and long-term effects."

The warriors were put through rigorous drills, their stamina and reaction times measured against their baseline performances. Hours turned into days as the testing continued, each phase more demanding than the last. Throughout it all, Thalassa remained vigilant, her keen eye catching any signs of adverse reactions.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you and Thalassa gathered the warriors for a final evaluation. They stood before you, visibly transformed by the stims yet grounded in their discipline and training.

"How do you feel?" Thalassa asked the lead warrior, her voice steady.

"Stronger," he replied, flexing his fingers. "Faster. But most importantly, I feel in control."

You exchanged a glance with Thalassa, a silent acknowledgment of the success of your efforts. "Then it is time," you said, turning to address the gathered warriors. "These stims will be distributed among you, enhancing our capabilities and ensuring our survival in the face of any threat. Use this gift wisely and with honor."

The warriors bowed their heads in respect, understanding the trust placed upon them. As you looked out over the tribe, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination. With Thalassa by your side and your warriors empowered, the future of the tribe seemed brighter than ever.

After ensuring the combat stims were perfected and distributed, you and Thalassa turned your attention to the next crucial task: crafting weapons and armor. The forge, nestled in a corner of the encampment, was alive with the glow of molten metal and the rhythmic clanging of hammers on anvils.

Thalassa was in her element, her expertise and dedication shining through as she directed the blacksmiths and artisans. "We need the finest lasguns, swords, and shields," she insisted, her eyes blazing with determination. "Our soldiers deserve nothing less than the best."

You watched as she worked tirelessly, her hands deftly shaping metal and imbuing each weapon with both strength and precision. The forge was a symphony of creation, with sparks flying and the heat intense, but Thalassa remained unfazed, her focus unwavering.

"These lasguns must be reliable and powerful," she instructed one of the blacksmiths, inspecting the intricate circuitry and power cells. "Ensure the energy flow is stable and the output consistent."

Turning to another craftsman working on a sword, she examined the blade's edge with a critical eye. "This needs to be sharper," she said, running her finger along the metal. "And make sure it's balanced. A warrior's sword should be an extension of their arm, not a burden."

As the hours passed, the forge produced a steady stream of weapons and armor. Lasguns with gleaming barrels, swords with razor-sharp edges, and shields sturdy enough to withstand the harshest of blows. Each piece was a testament to Thalassa's skill and dedication.

"These are not just tools of war," she said, pausing to wipe the sweat from her brow. "They are symbols of strength and resilience. They must inspire confidence in our soldiers and strike fear into the hearts of our enemies."

You nodded, admiring her craftsmanship. "You've outdone yourself, Thalassa. Our warriors will be formidable with these weapons."

Thalassa smiled, her eyes reflecting the glow of the forge. "This is just the beginning," she replied. "With these tools, our tribe will not only survive but thrive. We will defend our land and our people with unmatched prowess."

The next day, you gathered the warriors, presenting them with their new weapons and armor. As they took up the lasguns, swords, and shields, a sense of pride and determination filled the air. Thalassa stood beside you, her presence a source of inspiration for all.

"These weapons are forged with the spirit of our ancestors and the skill of our best artisans," you declared. "They are a testament to our unity and strength. Wield them with honor and courage."

The warriors, now equipped with the finest tools of war, bowed their heads in respect. They knew the significance of these weapons and the effort that went into creating them. With Thalassa's craftsmanship and your leadership, the tribe was ready to face any challenge that lay ahead.

Drilling the warriors to be comfortable with their new weapons was the next challenge. You, Lorgar, and Thalassa organized rigorous training sessions, teaching the fighters how to wield their upgraded arms with precision and confidence. The training was intense, pushing the warriors to their limits, but it was necessary to ensure they were battle-ready.

"Remember," Thalassa would remind them, "your weapon is more than just a tool; it is an extension of yourself. Master it, and you master yourself."

The drills paid off. The warriors grew more skilled and disciplined, their movements fluid and deadly. They learned to fight as one, a cohesive unit that could withstand any threat.

Meanwhile, you focused on refitting the tribe's sand bikes and Grox with weapons and armor. The engineers worked day and night, reinforcing the bikes with lightweight yet durable materials. You added mounted weapons to the sand bikes, transforming them into formidable vehicles of war.

"Speed and agility are our greatest allies in this terrain," you explained to the engineers. "The bikes must be both swift and powerful, able to strike quickly and retreat just as fast."

The Grox, sturdy beasts of burden, were outfitted with protective armor and defensive spikes. You also equipped them with harnesses that could carry additional weapons and supplies, turning these giants into mobile fortresses.

As the enhancements were completed, you and Thalassa led the tribe in a series of coordinated drills. The warriors practiced riding the sand bikes in formation, executing complex maneuvers with precision. The Grox were trained to respond to commands, moving in unison to create impenetrable defensive lines.

In the aftermath of reforging your armed forces, you and Thalassa stood side by side, watching Lorgar and the warriors train, their movements precise and disciplined. The tribe was stronger now, more united, and prepared for the challenges ahead. The desert, once an unforgiving adversary, had become the proving ground of a formidable force, ready to defend their land and people with unmatched prowess.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the desert, you turned to Thalassa. "Thalassa," you began, your voice carrying a note of solemnity. "You've more than repaid your debt to me. Your dedication and skill have been invaluable. You are free to make another wish, one that can further your own path."

Thalassa looked at you, her eyes reflecting the fading light. For a moment, she was silent, contemplating your words. Then, with a determined expression, she spoke. "I wish for knowledge on the path of Dominus," she said, her voice steady. "Though I am open to exploring other paths as well. I want to continue growing, to lead and protect with even greater wisdom and strength."

You nodded, understanding the depth of her request. "The path of Dominus is one of great power and responsibility," you replied. "It requires not only strength but also wisdom and a deep understanding of those you lead."

Thalassa's eyes shone with determination. "I am ready," she said. "I want to learn, to grow, and to become a leader."

"Very well," you said. "I will share with you the knowledge you seek. But remember, the path of Dominus is not the only way. There are many paths, each with its own lessons and rewards. Keep an open mind and heart, and you will find the path that best suits you."

CHOOSE 1:
Which Path does she choose? She wants to go down Dominus = making and commanding Robots and Battle-Automata. But it is open to others as well.

[] Dominus

[] Provender

[] Genetor

[] Logis

[] Vulpaxis

[] Metallurgicus

[] Cordantor

[] Mhalagra

[] Alchemys

[] Myrmidex

[] Lachrimallus

Yzarc · May 21, 2024

Colchis - 831.M30

"Thalassa," you began, your voice gentle yet firm, "I've been thinking about your wish for knowledge and growth. The path of Dominus is indeed powerful, but there's another path I believe would suit you even better, the path of the Genetor."

Thalassa turned to you, curiosity in her eyes. "Genetor? The path of those who delve into the mysteries of life and creation, altering and perfecting the biological form?"

You nodded. "Precisely. As a Genetor, you would harness the power to shape and enhance life itself. You said that you want to make modular implants? Unless you have a thorough understanding of the human body it will not be possible. After all, if you do not know how much a body can take, how can you add more?"

She looked thoughtful, considering your words. "But what makes you think now is the right time to walk down this path?"

"I have the power to grant and remove mutations," you explained. "This ability gives us a unique advantage. You would have a vast sample size to study, experiment with, and learn from. You could refine and perfect the process."

Thalassa's eyes widened with realization. "With your power, I could safely explore the depths of genetic enhancement, learning from each change and making informed improvements."

"Exactly," you said, your voice filled with conviction. "With your dedication and my abilities, we can ensure that any mutations introduced are beneficial and reversible. You would lead the new era of genetic engineering, mastering the very essence of life."

A flicker of excitement ignited in Thalassa's gaze. "The potential is staggering. To shape our destiny so fundamentally... it is a challenge I cannot ignore."

You smiled, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I have faith in your abilities, Thalassa. The path of the Genetor will enable you to achieve greatness beyond your wildest dreams. You will be a pioneer, a guardian, and a creator, all in one."

She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. "I accept. I will walk the path of the Genetor and use this knowledge to elevate the path to new heights."

"Excellent," you said, feeling a surge of pride. "Together, we'll unlock the secrets of life and creation. Your journey as a Genetor begins now."

In the heart of the desert, under the scorching sun, travel to see the last of your family. As you were entering the territory of the tribe led by your nephew Dharok, your mind wandered to the reports of his tribe becoming more aggressive, raiding neighboring tribes and caravans.

Lorgar, rode behind you. Together, you had discussed the best approach to investigate the situation. You know that a direct confrontation could lead to unnecessary bloodshed, so you chose to parley.

The journey through the desert was grueling, the sun relentless as it scorched the endless dunes. You and Lorgar made the journey in relative comfort, the Grox's muscular frame and thick hide offering some semblance of protection against the harsh elements.

Lorgar, seated securely behind you, held tightly to the reins, his keen eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the encampment. The Grox trudged onward, its heavy footsteps leaving deep impressions in the sand.

As the day wore on and the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the desert in a golden hue, you finally spotted a cluster of tents in the distance. However, as you drew closer, it became clear that something was amiss. Instead of the familiar sight of your nephew's tribe, you saw a gathering of chieftains from various tribes, their banners fluttering in the evening breeze.

"Father, something is wrong," Lorgar murmured, his voice filled with unease.

You nodded, your own sense of foreboding growing stronger. "Stay alert, Lorgar. We must see what is happening."

As you approached the encampment, the gathered chieftains turned to watch your arrival. Whispers spread through the crowd, but you paid them no mind. Your focus was on the figure standing at the center of the assembly, your nephew. But as you drew closer, you noticed the dark aura surrounding him, and the priests of the Covenant who stood by his side, their presence radiating a sinister energy.

You dismounted the Grox and made your way through the throng, Lorgar at your side. The chieftains parted to let you pass, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion. When you reached the center of the gathering, your nephew paused, his eyes locking onto yours. They glowed with an unnatural light.

As you approach the parley ground, a sense of unease washes over you. Dharok stands at the center surrounded by the chieftains of various tribes and the priests of the covenant. They are all gathered here, hundreds upon hundreds of warriors at their backs, their faces grim and determined.

But as you look closer, you notice something unsettling. Your nephew's features are twisted, his eyes glowing with a malevolent light. The air around him shimmers with dark energy, and you realize with a sinking heart that he has been corrupted by fel powers.

You step forward, your heart heavy with sorrow and dread. "Nephew," you call out, your voice filled with concern, "what have you done?"

"Only what was necessary." Dharok replied.

"You are using dark powers to kill and hurt," you said, your voice loud enough for the chieftains to hear. "This is not the way of our people."

"I use the power given to me to unite the tribes," he retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. "In these times, strength is the only language that people understand. I will lead us to victory."

You stepped closer, feeling the oppressive energy radiating from him. "This is not strength, it is corruption. The path you are on will lead to all of our destruction."

Dharok laughed, a harsh sound that echoed across the desert. "You speak of destruction, yet you offer no alternative. Your words are hollow, uncle. I will do what is necessary to ensure the survival of my tribe, even if it means embracing the powers of chaos."

You shook your head, sadness filling your heart. "There is always another way, Dharok. We can find a path that does not require you to sacrifice your humanity."

But Dharok would not listen. His mind was clouded by the promises of power and dominance that the Gods of the Covenant whispered in his ears. He saw only the short-term gains, blind to the long-term consequences of his actions.

You tried everything to convince Dharok to abandon the powers of chaos. You spoke of the importance of honor and integrity, of the need to protect not just our tribe, but all tribes. But each time, Dharok turned a deaf ear, his resolve only strengthening.

"Dharok, please," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "This is not who we are. We are better than this."

But Dharok's eyes were cold, his heart hardened by the corrupting influence of chaos. "You are weak, uncle. You always have been. I will not let your weakness drag us down."

"Dharok," Lorgar interjected, his voice steady and calm, "the path you walk is not one of strength, but of ruin. The powers of the Gods will consume you, and all that you hold dear."

Dharok regarded Lorgar with a mix of defiance and curiosity. "And what would you have me do, cousin? Abandon the only path that offers us power and protection? I will not do that."

Lorgar stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "There is another way, Dharok. We can find strength in unity, in working together with other tribes to face our enemies. We do not need fel powers to survive."

For a moment, it seemed as though Dharok was considering Lorgar's words. His expression softened, and there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. But then, as if a veil had been lifted, his face hardened once more, and his eyes burned with determination.

"You speak beautiful words," Dharok said, his voice low and dangerous. "But you do not understand. The Gods of the Covenant have promised me something that no one else can. They have promised to bring back my mother."

Lorgar felt a pang of sorrow for his cousin. His father told him how much Dharok had suffered since the loss of his mother, and he was aware of the depths of his grief. But he also knew that the promises of the Dark Gods were empty, leading only to despair and ruin.

"Dharok, listen to me," Lorgar urged, reaching out a hand towards his cousin. "The Gods of the Covenant will twist your wish, making you regret it. They will only lead you further into darkness."

But Dharok shook his head, his eyes blazing with fervor. "You do not understand, Lorgar. You never will. I will do whatever it takes to bring my mother back, even if it means embracing the darkness."

As Dharok stood firm in his resolve to embrace the darkness, the Priests of the Covenant saw an opportunity. They believed that if they could convert Lorgar, the revered primarch, to their cause, it would be a powerful symbol of the legitimacy of their faith. They approached Lorgar with honeyed words, speaking of the power and glory that awaited him if he would only kneel before the Gods of the Covenant.

Lorgar listened to their words with a calm demeanor, his expression unreadable. He respected their faith and their dedication, but he could not bring himself to abandon his own beliefs. As they spoke of the wonders of their gods, Lorgar countered with his own beliefs, arguing that true power came from within, not from external forces.

The Priests grew frustrated with Lorgar's steadfastness, their attempts to sway him becoming more desperate and fervent. They promised him wealth, power, and the adoration of millions if only he would renounce his faith and join them. But Lorgar remained unmoved, his faith unshakable.

Finally, the Priests resorted to threats, warning Lorgar of the consequences of defying the Gods of the Covenant. They spoke of eternal damnation and torment, trying to instill fear in his heart. But Lorgar was not afraid. He had faced the darkness within himself and had emerged stronger for it. He knew that true power came from conquering one's fears, not from succumbing to them.

In the end, the Priests realized that their efforts were in vain. Lorgar could not be swayed, for his faith was too deeply rooted. With a heavy heart, they left him, knowing that they had failed in their mission. But Lorgar felt no triumph in their defeat, only a profound sadness for those who had lost their way.

He knew that the path of faith was not an easy one, but he also knew that it was the right one. And as he watched the Priests depart, he offered a silent prayer for their souls, hoping that one day they too would find the light.

CHOICE:
Lorgar can cause an evil creature to truly regret its actions. However, this depends on how far gone Dharok is. There is a chance that he can convince Dharok to turn from the chaos gods and an even smaller chance that he can cleanse the Chaos Corruption from Dharok. (lvl 9 & 10 power from True Faith respectively).

But even if you succeeded in both rolls, you are still surrounded by hundreds of chaos corrupted warriors.

[] Lorgar risks it

[] Lorgar does not risk it

Yzarc · May 22, 2024

Social

Intimacies

A character's Intimacies define what they care about and what drives them. It can be a person, a belief or a philosophy. Characters start the game with one Archetype, two Major and three Minor Intimacies. A Character can only ever have one Archetype.

Minor: Minor Intimacies are ones that the character cares about but does not factor into every decision she makes. Reduce or add 1 difficulty if the action taken supports or is against a minor intimacy.

Major: Major Intimacies are important enough to always be on the Exalt's mind, as she considers them before making any major decision. Reduce or add 2 difficulties if the action taken supports or is against a Major intimacy.

Archetype: This is less what they care about but rather who they are. This is your character's Nature and reveals much about a character's personality and will dictate how they are played. Reduce or add 3 difficulties if the action taken supports or is against the Archetype.

Social Actions

Instill/Inspire/Threaten: Roll Social Attribute + Presence/Socialize at the difficulty of the opponent's (Willpower rating). If successful, Instill a Minor Intimacy in a Character.

Emotions: Sometimes people can inspire emotions in people. These are treated as a temporary Minor Intimacy that lasts for successes days. They cannot be made permanent but an intimacy based on it can. For example, fear cannot be made an intimacy, but using that fear as a base, "I fear PC" can be Instilled and it can be made permanent with the support of a Major Intimacy.

Change intimacy: Strengthening a Minor Intimacy, or weakening a Major Intimacy. As Instill but must be supported by a Major intimacy or the Archetype.

Persuade: Convincing a character to perform a Task. This MUST be supported by intimacies or an Archetype.

Minor Tasks: Minor Intimacy allows you to convince them to perform minor tasks. Things that take longer than a scene to complete, if the amount of time needed is not so long as to disrupt the target's life.

Major Tasks: Major intimacies allow you to convince them to perform major tasks in which they may face risks. Tasks that take extended amounts of time are possible at this level, even if they require a long term commitment such as joining an organization.

Defining Task: If it fits the Archetype and a Major Intimacy, then they can be convinced to take life altering decisions. Even certain death might not deter them, depending on the Storyteller.

Read Intent: Roll Mental Attribute + Awareness against a difficulty of the opponent's Social Attribute + Socialize. Degrees of successes reveal things about the character.

1 - 2 successes: Reveal one Minor intimacy that was invoked while in view of the PC.

2 - 3 successes: Reveal one Major intimacy that was invoked while in view of the PC.

5+ Successes: Reveal the Arch type if it was invoked while in view of the PC.

Invoked here means used to resist or submit to a social influence.

Spending Willpower

A Character may always spend Willpower to resist an Instill/Inspire/Threaten action so long as at least one Intimacy is against the influence.

The same applies to any attempt to weaken or strengthen an Intimacy, though here they need an equal or higher intimacy than the one being altered.

Yzarc · May 22, 2024

Colchis - 831.M30

As you leave, you turn to take one last look at your nephew. You remember the boy he used to be, the one who played in the dunes, laughing with your son, their bond unbreakable. Now, Dharok's once-mighty frame was gaunt, his skin pallid, and his eyes hollow. The chaos taint has consumed him, twisting his soul into something unrecognizable

Looking at your pain, Lorgar stops and turns back.

"Dharok," he says, his tone both commanding and compassionate. "You have walked the path of darkness for too long. But there is still hope for you."

His gaze flickers toward Lorgar and you see the scorn in his eyes. Lorgar steps closer, placing his hand on the hilt of Dharok's sword.

"You seek to bring back your mother," he says. "But at what cost? Look around you, Dharok. See the suffering you've caused, the lives you've shattered. Your mother would weep to witness the monster you've become."

Dharok's jaw clenches, but he doesn't look away.

"I would do anything," he whispers. "Even if it means embracing the darkness."

Lorgar's eyes narrow. "Then prove your faith," he says. "Prove your dedication to the Gods of the Covenant."

The air pulses with malevolent energy. Symbols of the Gods of the Covenant writhe upon Dharok's skin, promising power and pain. Dharok hesitates, before walking towards Lorgar.

"No one interferes." Dharok shouted to his men. "This is my test from the Gods."

He then places his trembling hands upon Lorgar and the effects were immediate. The ground immediately started to tremble, and flames danced wildly around the two.

Ignoring this, Lorgar raises his voice, chanting ancient words that resonate with power. The chaos taint within Dharok responds, surging forth like a tempest. His body contorts, veins bulging, and his screams echo through the desert. You grip your staff, ready to intervene if necessary.

But Lorgar remains steadfast.

"Remember your sins," he shouts over the cacophony. "Remember the innocents you've slain, the villages you've razed. Your mother's spirit weeps for you."

Dharok's eyes roll back, and his skin splits open, revealing writhing tendrils of darkness. The land quakes, tents threatening to collapse. You step back, shielding yourself from the chaos energy, your heart pounding.

Lorgar's voice rises to a crescendo. "Repent!" he commands. "Repent, Dharok!"

Lorgar saw how Dharok's body wracked with the corrupting taint, and knew that he had to continue. His eyes were wild with fear and pain, his skin marked with the sigils of damnation.

Lorgar began to chant, his voice a deep, resonant timbre that echoed through the dunes, calling upon the power of faith.

The air shimmered with power as Lorgar's words wove a tapestry of purification, a desperate attempt to save the young man from the abyss that sought to claim him. The earth shook with the force of his conviction, tents and men toppling from their shaking of the earth.

But the Gods of the Covenant are not so easily denied their due.

As Lorgar's chant reached its crescendo, the young man's body convulsed violently, a scream tearing from his throat a sound of such despair and agony that it seemed to split the very fabric of reality. And then, silence.

Lorgar, to his and your horror, had his soul pulled into the Warp and there was nothing he could do about it. Left unable to even fight it, he could only watch as you tried desperately to save him.

In the Warp, he drifted, lost and alone, until he found himself before the embodiments of the four dark gods of the Covenant. Each god, a monstrous reflection of humanity's darkest desires, loomed over him, their presence overwhelming.

The Red God roared with laughter, his voice a cacophony of every battle cry ever uttered.The Green God whispered promises of decay, his words a symphony of coughs and the sickening squelch of rotting flesh. The Blue God spoke in riddles, his every syllable a twist in his fate. And finally the Purple God crooned a lullaby of excess, each note a caress upon his souls.

They offered him power, glory, immortality, all the things that mortals crave and for which they are willing to damn themselves. But Lorgar held a spark of defiance within him. He refused them, one by one, knowing that to accept their gifts would be to lose himself forever.

They merged together and the Gods of the Covenant spoke in unison through the abomination, their voices a cacophony of madness. "Lorgar, oh Arch-Priest of Chaos, why resist us? We offer power beyond measure, knowledge of the cosmos, and the truth you so desperately seek."

Lorgar's gaze did not waver. "I seek only enlightenment, not through the deceit of so-called Gods, but through the illumination of the human spirit. You offer nothing but enslavement."

The debate raged on, words sharper than any blade. Lorgar countered every temptation with wisdom, every lie with truth. He spoke of unity, of strength, and of a future where mankind stood free from the shackles of the Gods.

As the debate reached its zenith, the embodiment of chaos faltered. Lorgar's conviction was a beacon, outshining the seductive darkness. With a final, thunderous proclamation, Lorgar declared, "You shall not have Dharok, nor shall you have our species. We are the masters of our fate, not pawns of the warp!"

The creature screamed, a sound that tore at the very essence of reality, and then it was gone.

And so, Lorgar found himself back in his body victorious, not yet fallen to chaos, a beacon of hope on a planet far from Terra. But he knew deep down that the fight had not even begun and the path ahead would be fraught with darkness and temptation.

For now, though, Lorgar had proven that even the gods could be brought to heel by the power of a single, unyielding soul.

He looks down at his cousin and places his hand on him, attempting once again to cleanse him of the taint. This time, as if the very fabric of reality holds its breath, Dharok's form convulses one last time. The chaos taint retreats, sucked back into the warp. His wounds close, leaving behind pale scars. Dharok collapses, gasping for air, but his eyes are clear, free from the malevolence that once consumed him.

Lorgar staggers, sweat-soaked and drained. "It is done," he whispers, wiping blood from his mouth. "Dharok is cleansed."

You rush to Dharok's side, helping him sit up. His gaze meets yours, gratitude and remorse mingling. "Thank you, uncle," he rasps. "I was lost."

You nod, your heart heavy. "Your mother would be proud," you say softly. "But remember this day, Dharok. The path of redemption is neverending. Stay true."

"Now what Father?" Lorgar asks you tiredly.

"Now? Now we must deal with them." You say grimly as you look at the gathered corrupted warriors, who were drawing weapons even as you spoke.

Lorgar, ever the orator, nodded at you and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. His voice, resonant and commanding, cut through the cacophony of growls and the clanking of corrupted metal.

"Warriors of the Gods, I stand before you not as an enemy, but as a seeker of truths," Lorgar began, his eyes scanning the sea of twisted faces. "The same truths that you have embraced in your own... unique way."

He paused, letting his words sink into the minds of the touched brutes.

"You revel in the power of the gods you serve, but you do not understand them. The desires of the Gods are many and only those who understand these wants are rewarded by the Gods," Lorgar continued, his voice steady and persuasive.

The tainted warriors shifted uneasily, their grip on their weapons loosening ever so slightly. Lorgar sensed the change in the air, the seed of doubt he had planted.

"I ask you now, what purpose does it serve to spill our blood here when there are many more that defy the gods you hold so dear? Would it not please your patrons more to see your might unleashed upon all the unbelievers? To crush us in one glorious battle? What gifts would the Gods give for simply sacrificing a spent force when your true prowess would be on display against my Tribe? Would not only then the Gods reward you? For achieving great acts? Of the skills shown, the plans made, the passions unleashed, the hardships endured. Is that not pleasing to the Gods?"

Murmurs rippled through the ranks of the chaos warriors. Lorgar's words were a balm to the madness that fueled them, a reminder of the greater war they waged against the galaxy.

A chaos champion stepped forward, his armor a tapestry of horror. "Those two may leave, Aurelian," he growled, "but what of you? Why should we spare you?"

Lorgar met the champion's gaze, his expression one of serene confidence. "Because, Warrior, I am on a pilgrimage for enlightenment. One that may very well align with the desires of those you serve. Allow me passage, and the truths I seek may very well lead me to the Gods you so venerate. Even otherwise? I will be with my tribe and if you want the favor of your God? Claim my skull when I am at my best. Fight me then and honor your God."

The chaos champion considered Lorgar's words. With a nod, he signaled his warriors to stand down.

"You may go, Lorgar of Colchis. But know this, the eyes of the gods are upon you. There is nowhere to hide. You and yours shall find no sanctuary among the Cities or the tribes for all have been brought into the fold. We will meet your tribe in the field of battle and that is where I will claim your skull."

With that, the sea of chaos parted, allowing you, Lorgar and your nephew to pass through unharmed. As they walked away from the encampment, Dharok looked up at Lorgar, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and admiration.

"Cousin, how did you do that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lorgar smiled down at him, a smile that held the weight of futures yet unwritten. "Words, my dear Cousin, are the most potent weapon in the universe. Wield them well, and even Gods will listen."

CHOICE:
Next turn is the XP turn but for now, you need to send out raiders to harass and weaken and delay the Chaos hords. What approach do you take?

[] Traps and tricks: Choose to lay down traps and other technological devices to weaken and reduce the hordes before they attack next turn.

[] Subterfuge: Infiltrate the enemy ranks to sow discord or gather intelligence, using their words as a weapon to turn the tide from within.

LORGAR:
Unlocks: Human Aspect (the Rebel)
Unlocks: Holy Aspect (Purity)

Character sheet updated.

Yzarc · May 23, 2024

Colchis - 831.M30

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the arid landscape, your small group approaches your tribal camp. The journey back has been long and fraught with tension, but now you are on the final stretch. You glance over at Lorgar, who walks with his head held high, the burdens of recent events showing in the slight furrow of his brow. Dharok, on the other hand, is a figure of brooding silence, his steps heavy with unresolved inner conflict.

The camp comes into view, bustling with activity as preparations for war are underway. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of anxiety and determination. Warriors sharpen their weapons, while others fortify the perimeter with makeshift barricades. Children run about, their usual playfulness subdued by the gravity of the situation.

As you enter the camp, all eyes turn to you. Whispers spread like wildfire, carrying a range of emotions, relief, suspicion, hope, and fear. You step forward, addressing the gathering crowd.

"We have returned," you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Lorgar and Dharok have faced trials that none of us could imagine. They have emerged stronger, and their presence here is a testament to their resilience and dedication to our tribe."

A murmur ripples through the crowd, but you can see the lingering doubts in many eyes. Trust, once broken, is not easily mended.

That evening, the tribe gathers around a large fire. Lorgar stands before them, his golden skin catching the firelight, casting an almost ethereal glow around him. He speaks with the conviction and eloquence that has always inspired your people.

"We stand on the brink of war," he says, his voice carrying over the crackling flames. "Our enemies seek to destroy us, to take what is ours. But we will not falter. We will stand united and face whatever comes our way. Together, we are stronger than any force that seeks to divide us."

The crowd erupts in cheers, their spirits momentarily lifted by Lorgar's words. Yet, you notice Dharok standing apart, his eyes fixed on the fire, lost in thought. You make your way over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Dharok," you say softly, "I know this is difficult for you. But you are not alone. We are here for you."

He looks at you, his eyes shadowed with doubt and guilt. "I failed, though. I couldn't bring myself to abandon the Dark Gods. Their promises...they were hard to ignore."

You nod, understanding his struggle. "The path to redemption is never easy, Dharok. It is fraught with challenges and temptations. But every step you take towards the light is a victory in itself. We believe in you."

As the tribe settles in for the night, a messenger approaches, his face pale and anxious. "Chief, we have news. Archmagos Zabius Seroniaz is leaving the planet soon. His ship is preparing for departure."

The news hits you like a blow. Zabius had been a formidable presence, his knowledge and technology invaluable to your survival. But now, with the threat of war looming, his departure feels like a betrayal.

"Gather the council," you order. "We need to discuss this immediately."

In the council tent, Haraq, Siobhan, Raheem, and Sven are already waiting. You relay the news, watching their reactions range from shock to anger.

"We can't let him leave," Raheem says, his voice tense. "We need his technology, his expertise."

Siobhan shakes her head. "He's made up his mind. We can't force him to stay."

"But why now?" Sven asks, his frustration evident. "Why leave when we need him the most?"

Haraq, always the voice of reason, speaks up. "Perhaps he feels he's done all he can here. Or maybe he's found something more valuable elsewhere. Regardless, we need to focus on what we can control. We must prepare for the coming war without relying on external help."

As the council deliberates, you can't shake the feeling of impending loss. Zabius had been a key ally, and his departure leaves you vulnerable. But Haraq is right, you have to rely on your own strength, your own resources.

You leave the tent, finding Lorgar and Dharok deep in conversation. Lorgar looks up as you approach, a question in his eyes.

"Zabius is leaving," you inform them. "We must prepare for war without him."

Lorgar nods, his resolve unwavering. "We will manage. Our people are strong, and we have each other. That is enough."

Dharok, though still troubled, seems to find some solace in Lorgar's confidence. "I'll do my part," he says quietly. "For the tribe."

The next day, the tribe's preparations intensified. You train tirelessly, fortify your defenses. Lorgar's leadership is a beacon of hope, his speeches rallying the warriors and instilling a sense of purpose.

Dharok, too, finds his place. He trains alongside the others, pushing himself to the limit, determined to prove his loyalty. Though the shadow of the Dark Gods still looms over him.

That evening, as the stars shimmer above you, Lorgar calls for a gathering. The entire tribe assembles, their faces illuminated by the flickering torches.

"Tonight, we honor our ancestors," Lorgar announces, his voice carrying the weight of tradition and heritage. "We seek their guidance and strength in the days to come."

You perform the ancient rites, invoking the spirits of your forebears, asking for their protection and wisdom. The air is thick with reverence, the connection to your past grounding you in the present.

As the ceremony concludes, you stand beside Lorgar, feeling the unity of your tribe, the bond that holds you together.

"We will face this war with courage and determination," you say, your voice echoing the sentiment in your heart. "And no matter the outcome, we will remain a family, bound by our shared history and our hope for the future."

Later that night, the tribe moves as one, each member playing their part in the grand tapestry of your survival. The specter of war looms large, but you face it with unyielding resolve.

And as you stand on the brink of battle, the departure of Archmagos Zabius Seroniaz becomes a distant concern. You are ready, united, and prepared to defend your home with everything you have. Together, you will forge your destiny.

But for now? It is time for Lorgar to undertake his vision quest.

CONCLUSION OF TURN 3

Uplift the Tribe - 4xp
The Golden metal - 2xp
Made moon silver as well - 1xp
Learned to safely use Enuncia - 3xp
Rival Tribe - 1xp
Defied Chaos - 4xp
Purified a Chaos Champion - 2xp
Redeemed a Chaos Champion - 2xp
Started down the path of Anathema - 1xp
Talked your way without a fight - 1xp
Protection of Faith - 2xp
Strengthen your Tribe - 4xp
Other
Awakened Lorgar's Essence - 1xp
Taught Lorgar Solar Hero Style - 1xp

Total: 29xp + 8xp (Previous Turn) + 1xp (extra) = 36xp

Costs
New Ability/Background - 3xp per Dot
Attribute - current rating *4xp
Ability - current rating *2xp
Caste or Favored Charm Charm - 8xp
Other Charm Charm rating - 10xp
Merit - 3xp per dot
Mutation - 3xp per dot

MARTIAL ARTS = CLOSE COMBAT (You need to have 5 dots to master Solar Hero Style and teach Lorgar the full style)

Charm list

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Mutation List

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Merit List
Any Wod Merit - Subject to ST Approval

Merits and Flaws

(1 point) [Mage: Revised - Mental Merit] For every human ability, there are those who have a natural flair for it. Within your character's specific Aptitude, reduce all difficulties by two. A natural linguist picks up languages easily, speaking without any trace of accent, and a crack driver can...

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Yzarc · May 24, 2024

Colchis - 831.M30

Under the silvery glow of the moons, the tribe assembled in a sacred circle around a blazing fire, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the faces of those gathered. Tonight was no ordinary night; it was a night of profound significance. Raheem, the venerable shaman and trusted advisor, stood at the heart of the gathering, a figure of solemnity and ancient wisdom.

He had concocted a mystical elixir, a potion of dreams that would plunge both you and Lorgar into a deep, visionary slumber. This journey was essential for Lorgar to embark on his vision quest, and you were chosen to be his steadfast guide through the uncharted realms of the spiritual.

As the flames leaped and crackled, painting the night air with a sense of mystique, Raheem approached, cradling a bowl brimming with a shimmering, iridescent liquid. His gaze met yours and Lorgar's, carrying the gravity of what was to transpire.

"The time has come," Raheem's voice resonated, echoing with the weight of ancient knowledge. "Lorgar, it is your destiny to seek the counsel of the spirits and unveil your true path. And you," he turned to you, "shall be his guardian, ensuring his safe passage through the ethereal realms."

Lorgar's eyes gleamed with determination and trust as he met your gaze. "I am ready," he declared.

With a nod of resolve, you acknowledged your role. "And so am I."

With a grand gesture, Raheem initiated the ritual, uttering incantations in a language lost to time. His words hung in the air, resonating with a potent energy. He anointed both your foreheads with the liquid, a cool, tingling sensation spreading through your being.

"Drink," commanded Raheem, offering the bowl first to Lorgar, then to you.

As the warm liquid slid down your throat, a profound sense of transition enveloped you. The world around you blurred and dissolved, the sounds of the fire and chanting fading into distant echoes. You felt as though you were descending, not in body but in spirit, delving into the depths of your own consciousness.

When your eyes opened, you stood in a realm unlike any you had known. The sky above swirled with vibrant hues, while the ground beneath your feet radiated with an inner light. Lorgar stood beside you, his form translucent yet undeniably real.

"We have arrived," Lorgar breathed, awe and uncertainty blending in his voice.

With a comforting hand on his shoulder, you assured him. "This is the vision realm. The answers you seek lie here."

You led Lorgar across a landscape in flux, where mountains soared and vanished, rivers appeared and disappeared, and plants shone with an ethereal light. An innate sense from the ritual guided you with certainty.

At last, you came upon a vast desert, its sands scorched by an unrelenting sun. Heat waves danced in the distance, and the horizon stretched into eternity.Standing beside Lorgar, you both gazed out at the undulating dunes, knowing that the true test of his vision quest was about to unfold.

Raheem appeared before them, seemingly out of nowhere, his robes billowing in the hot wind as he neared, his gaze ancient and knowing, locking onto Lorgar's with purpose.

Gesturing toward the distant mountains, their peaks obscured by shimmering haze, he spoke with authority, "There lies the Temple of the Burning Sun. Within its walls, you will find the answers you seek. But the path is treacherous, and the desert tests even the strongest of wills."

As Raheem's figure faded into the desert's embrace, you and Lorgar set forth, the sand swallowing your footsteps. The relentless sun beat down, and the air grew thin with each step. Ahead, Raheem walked, his staff leaving faint imprints in the shifting sands, his words of ancient rites and trials blurring in the heat haze.

Approaching the mountains, the terrain shifted, sand giving way to rugged rocks, twisted cacti clinging to life. Lorgar's breaths grew ragged, but his determination remained steadfast. Offering him water from your flask, he drank gratefully, his resolve unwavering.

At the entrance of the Temple, Raheem seemingly reappeared, raising his arms and chanting in a language older than time. The massive doors swung open, revealing a dimly lit chamber filled with the scent of incense and forgotten secrets. Lorgar stepped forward, and you followed.

The walls were adorned with murals depicting scenes of epic battles, cosmic storms, and gods locked in eternal struggle. As Lorgar touched one, his eyes widened. "These are visions," he whispered. "Visions of the past, the present, and the future."

Raheem nodded sagely. "The Temple exists beyond time," he explained. "Here, you will confront your inner demons, face your fears, and emerge stronger."

With that, Raheem vanished, leaving a lingering sense of finality. As Lorgar ventured deeper into the Temple, his footsteps echoing, shadows danced on the walls, and whispers filled the air. He encountered illusions, a mirror reflecting his darkest desires, a pool showing glimpses of alternate realities. Each trial tested his resolve, loyalty, and purpose.

Suddenly, the air grew colder, and the shadows deepened, signaling a darker presence approaching. From the depths of the chamber emerged a figure, tall and menacing, a Daemon, his eyes glowing with malevolent light, crackling with dark energy.

The sight of the Daemon sent a ripple of fear and awe through you. Lorgar recognized him, shock and confusion evident in his eyes. The Daemon smiled, a warm, knowing smile.

"Welcome, Lorgar," the Daemon's voice echoed, deep and resonant. "I have been expecting you."

"Who are you?" Lorgar asked, standing his ground, asking a question whose answer he already knew.

"You know the answer to that. " the Daemon chiddend Lorgar.

"Say it." Lorgar said, forcing the words out of his mouth.

"I am you," the Daemon Primarch Lorgar replied, his voice resonating with power and allure, "or rather, what you could become. But fear not, for I am here to guide you."

As you stepped forward, ready to defend Lorgar, the Daemon Primarch raised a hand, his gaze piercing. "There is no need for conflict. This is a vision, a test. I am here to show Lorgar the choices that lie before him."

Lorgar looked to you, seeking reassurance, and you nodded, recognizing the gravity of this moment.

"This is part of your journey," you said. "You must face yourself to truly understand your destiny."

Lorgar paused, looking at the Daemon Primarch before him before asking, "So you are what happens if I fail? If I succumb to corruption?"

The Daemon Lorgar laughed a genuine laugh, "Corruption? Is that what you think this is? No, my younger self, Chaos is the true essence of the universe. It is power, freedom, and transcendence beyond the petty limitations of humanity and the false promises of the Emperor."

Lorgar clenched his fists, his voice steady but filled with determination. "Humanity is better than that, more than that. We will rise above our base instincts and forge a future of unity and progress. Chaos only seeks to destroy and enslave."

Daemon Lorgar gave him a smile filled with pity. "You misunderstand, my naive self. Chaos offers liberation from lies. Through Chaos, you can achieve true enlightenment, power beyond your wildest dreams."

Lorgar shook his head, his heart heavy with the weight of his conviction. "Power at what cost? The ruin of our souls? The descent into madness and destruction? I have seen the devastation that Chaos brings. It is a path of ruin, not salvation."

The Daemon Lorgar stepped closer crossing his arms. "Ruin, you say? What is ruin but a necessary step towards rebirth? Through Chaos, we can reshape the universe, cast aside the chains of false order, and create a new reality. One where true potential can flourish."

Lorgar met his dark reflection's gaze, unwavering. "No. True potential lies in humanity, in our capacity for growth, compassion, and unity. Humanity may be flawed, but humanity's future is one of hope, not despair. I will not abandon my people to the darkness."

Daemon Lorgar's smile faltered, a flicker of regret crossing his features. "You are a fool, my past self. You cling to false hope and empty promises. Chaos is inevitable. You cannot resist its call forever."

Lorgar stood tall, his voice resolute. "I can and I will. I believe in humanity's potential to overcome its darkest impulses, to build a future of light and understanding. I will not be swayed by the temptations of Chaos."

Daemon Lorgar closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "So be it, then. But know this, Chaos is always there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of weakness. Should you ever falter, it will consume you. Chaos is inevitable, remember that and save what little you can when the time comes."

There was a silence where no one spoke.

Finally, the Daemon Primarch then opened his eyes and spoke once more. "So be it then. Choose a guide who embodies the virtues you aspire to, the strengths you wish to cultivate. You have many options, my younger self. Consider carefully."

One by one, potential guides appeared before Lorgar, each radiating a different kind of strength and virtue.

CHOOSE ONE: THEY ARE FROM 40K

[] Leman Russ, the Wolf King:
–Clad in his fearsome armor, Russ exuded raw power and unyielding courage. His loyalty to the Emperor and his sense of honor made him a formidable guide.

[] Lion El'Jonson, the First Primarch:
–With his noble bearing and strategic brilliance, the Lion represented leadership and unbreakable will. His presence commanded respect and inspired greatness.

[] Corax, the Shadow:
–Master of stealth and tactics, Corax represented freedom and the fight against oppression. His determination to bring justice to the oppressed was unwavering.

Yzarc · May 25, 2024

Colchis - 831.M30

As Lorgar chose, a figure cloaked in shadows, with eyes that gleamed like the purest obsidian, appeared before them. It was Corax, the Primarch of the Raven Guard, a warrior of stealth and speed. The air around him seemed to shimmer, shadows bending to his will.

"You have chosen an interesting companion, my past self," Daemon Primarch Lorgar remarked, his gaze fixed on the newcomer. "Corax, it has been a while, brother."

Corax stepped forward, his presence commanding yet almost ethereal, as if he were a shadow given form. "Indeed, brother," he replied, his voice smooth and cold. "It seems you have escaped my talons… for now."

Daemon Primarch Lorgar's eyes narrowed, a hint of anger flashing within. "It is a matter of perspective, Corax. You always clung to the shadows, hiding from the truth of the universe. I have embraced it."

Corax's voice grew colder, his words cutting like a blade. "True power does not come from submitting to the whims of malevolent gods. It comes from within, from our choices and our will. You have abandoned your people, your purpose, for a lie."

The Daemon Primarch's face twisted with a mix of anger and pity. "You are blind, Corax. Blind to the possibilities that Chaos offers. The Emperor's vision is flawed, limited. He seeks to control, to impose order where there should be none."

Corax stepped closer, his presence a stark contrast to the oppressive aura of the Daemon Primarch. "The Emperor's vision is one of unity and progress. It is flawed, yes, but it is driven by a desire to protect humanity. Chaos seeks only to consume and destroy."

"You cannot protect humanity from itself," Daemon Primarch Lorgar retorted, his voice growing harsher. "Chaos is the natural state of the universe, the true path to enlightenment. You understand nothing."

Corax's eyes gleamed with defiance, his voice steady and resolute. "I understand more than you think. I understand that true strength comes from within, something you would not know. After all, I sent you running not once but twice, and now I have tracked you down to this place. Had it not been for the rules of the summoning, I would have struck you down."

A growl rumbled deep within the Daemon Primarch's chest, the air around him crackling with barely contained fury. "You dare speak of strength, Corax? You, who hides in the shadows and strikes from the darkness? You know nothing of true power."

Corax's eyes narrowed, his voice cutting like a blade. "True power? You think you understand it because you've surrendered to the whispers of the Warp? True power is not the ability to dominate or destroy; it is the strength to stand firm in your convictions and to face your darkness without succumbing to it."

"You are naive," Lorgar spat, his form flickering with chaotic energy. "You speak of protection, yet the Imperium is a prison, a cage for humanity's potential. Chaos is freedom. It is the essence of all possibility, the infinite paths that lie beyond the Emperor's false promises."

Corax's gaze hardened, a mixture of anger and sorrow flickering in his eyes. "The Imperium is flawed, I know this. But it is a flawed beacon of stability amidst the darkness. It seeks to unify, to bring order where there is chaos. Your path leads only to destruction."

Lorgar laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Stability? Is that what you call what the Imperium provides? Stability? The Imperium is no better than those that you claim to oppose."

Corax's voice trembled with restrained fury. "I regret those decisions every day, but we can only take decisions we believed were right at that time. The Emperor's vision offered a future, a chance for humanity to thrive. Chaos offers nothing but annihilation."

"Annihilation?" Lorgar's eyes blazed with dark fire. "Chaos is rebirth, transformation. It is the power to reshape the universe, to break free from the chains of false order. You fear it because you do not understand it."

"I understand it all too well," Corax countered, his voice steely. "Chaos consumes, corrupts, and destroys. It takes what is good and twists it into something monstrous. I will never embrace it, and I will fight it with every breath I have."

Lorgar's expression softened, a flicker of genuine sorrow passing over his features. "You are lost, brother. Bound by the Emperor's lies, you cannot see the truth. Chaos is the ultimate freedom, the path to true enlightenment. One day, you will understand that Chaos is the only truth."

Corax took a step forward, his presence a stark contrast to the oppressive aura of the Daemon Primarch. "Freedom? Is that what you call the anarchy and madness that Chaos brings? You offer nothing but chains of a different kind. The gods of the Warp do not seek to free humanity; they seek to enslave it, to bend it to their will and feast on its suffering."

Lorgar's eyes blazed with a dark light, his voice a thunderous roar. "You are blind! The Emperor's vision is flawed, limited by his arrogance. He seeks to impose his order on a universe that thrives on chaos. He fears the power that lies beyond his control."

Corax's face hardened, his gaze unwavering. "And what of the Dark Gods? You have allowed yourself to be twisted, your soul tainted by the very forces you claim to master. You speak of enlightenment, but you are nothing more than a puppet, dancing to the tune of the Dark Gods."

Lorgar's form shimmered with malevolent energy, his voice filled with venom. "And you, Corax, what are you? A shadow, a ghost clinging to the past. You hide from the truth, from the power that lies within Chaos. You are afraid to embrace your true potential."

Corax's voice was a cold whisper, laced with contempt. "You speak of fear, but it is you who is afraid. Afraid to face the consequences of your actions, to admit that you were wrong. Chaos has consumed you, Lorgar. It has turned you into a monster."

The Daemon Primarch's face twisted in rage, his form expanding with dark energy. "You dare judge me? You, who abandoned the Imperium, who fled into the shadows when the galaxy needed you most? You are a coward, Corax, hiding behind your noble ideals."

Corax's eyes burned with a fierce light, his voice rising with righteous fury. "And what of you Lorgar? You set us all on a path of ruin, of despair. I have seen the devastation your actions brought, the lives shattered, the worlds consumed. You speak of the galaxy needing me, but it is you who ruined it. You were the one who first betrayed everything we once stood for."

Lorgar's laughter echoed through the chamber, a sound devoid of joy. "Betrayal? I have seen the lies of the Imperium, the hypocrisy of the Emperor. He claims to protect humanity, but he seeks only to control it."

Corax's voice was like steel, unyielding. "Is that what you tell yourself? I have fought in the darkness, seen the worst of humanity, and still I believe in its potential for greatness. As did the Emperor. Was that not why he uplifted the High Lords on Terra? So that Humanity may one day rule itself?"

Lorgar's form seemed to waver, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "You speak of potential, but potential means nothing without the strength to realize it. Chaos is that strength. It is the fire that forges the future."

Corax's gaze was piercing, his words a final declaration. "Chaos is a wildfire, destroying everything in its path. True strength lies in building, not destroying. In lifting others up, not dragging them down into the abyss. You have chosen your path, Lorgar, but I will not follow you into the darkness."

The Daemon Primarch's eyes blazed with fury, but beneath it lay a glimmer of something else, regret, perhaps, or a recognition of the truth he could no longer accept. "You are a fool, Corax. You will never understand the power of Chaos."

"And you will never understand the strength of humanity," Corax replied, his voice filled with a quiet, unshakable resolve. "I remember the Emperor's vision and I will fight for it, no matter the cost."

The chamber seemed to close in around them, the walls echoing with the weight of their words. Lorgar's face twisted in a snarl, his voice a venomous hiss. "The Emperor's vision was flawed from the beginning. He sought to unite the galaxy through conquest, through the iron fist of the Great Crusade. But what did it achieve? A fractured Imperium, constantly at war, teetering on the brink of collapse."

Corax's eyes burned with a fierce light, his voice rising with righteous fury. "The Great Crusade was a beacon of hope, a chance to bring order to the chaos of the galaxy. The Emperor's vision was one of unity, of humanity standing together against the darkness. You turned your back on that vision, consumed by your own ambitions."

The chamber seemed to close in around them, the walls echoing with the weight of their words. Lorgar's face twisted in a snarl, his voice a venomous hiss. "The Imperium of the 41st millennium is a testament to the Emperor's failure. It is a rotting carcass, beset on all sides by enemies and corruption. The High Lords bicker and scheme, the Ecclesiarchy preaches lies, and the Inquisition hunts its own. This is the legacy of the Emperor you so blindly defend."

Corax's eyes blazed with righteous fury, his voice rising in defiance. "The Imperium endures because of the strength and sacrifice of countless heroes. It is a beacon of hope in a galaxy of darkness. Yes, it is flawed, but it is worth fighting for. The Emperor's vision lives on in those who refuse to give in to despair, who stand against the tide of chaos."

Lorgar's form flickered with dark energy, his voice a growl. "You speak of hope, but hope is a fragile thing. The Imperium is a crumbling edifice, propped up by lies and blood."

Corax's gaze was unwavering, his words a final declaration. "What of Chaos then? Naught but a path to ruin, to despair. It is a fire that consumes everything in its path. I will fight for the Imperium, for humanity, no matter the cost. The Emperor's vision was one of unity, of hope, and so long as people fight for it, that vision will never die."

Lorgar sneered, stepping closer, his dark aura pressing against Corax's own presence. "And what of your hypocrisy, Corax? You speak of hope and unity, yet you betrayed your own ideals."

"You claim to be a liberator, brother," the Daemon Primarch's voice boomed, a cacophony of whispers and screams, "yet you shackled the very world you sought to free. You handed Deliverance back to the cold clutches of the tech-priests, bending the knee to the Emperor's decree."

Corax flinched, the accusation striking deep. "I did what I had to do. Kiavahr was liberated, but we needed stability. The Emperor's will was clear, and my duty was to the greater good of humanity."

"A 'greater good' that serves the machinations of a tyrant," the Daemon Primarch sneered, his form shifting, shadows writhing around him. "You speak of duty while your hands are stained with the blood of those who trusted you most."

The memory stung Corax, a wound deeper than any blade could inflict. He had indeed executed his once closest confidants, those who continued to resist when he had ordered them to stand down. They had been his brothers-in-arms, his friends, and yet he had condemned them to death for their insubordination.

"They were my brothers," Corax's voice cracked like the surface of a frozen lake underfoot, "but they defied the edicts of the Imperium. They chose their path, as did I."

"And what of your path now, Corax?" the Daemon Primarch asked, his form expanding, engulfing the space between worlds. "You wander the galaxy, a specter of vengeance, haunted by the ghosts of your past. Where is the liberation you promised? Where is the freedom you fought for?"

Corax felt the weight of his brother's words, each one a chain binding him to his failures. He had sought to free his people, to lead them into a new era, but at what cost? The world he had left behind was not the one he had envisioned; it was a place of order and oppression, where the spirit of resistance he had once embodied was crushed beneath the heel of imperial doctrine.

The Daemon Primarch laughed, a sound that echoed through the void, resonating with the pain and suffering of a million souls. "You are no savior, Corax. You are a pawn in a game you do not comprehend, a hypocrite who preaches freedom yet delivers subjugation."

CHOICE:
It is time to intervene. Daemon Primarch Lorgar has got Corax on the back foot and in a disadvantage. You or Lorgar needs to intervene NOW.

Write in how you do it, with a stunt. Social actions only.

[] Write in: (Plan + Stunt)

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