[X] Plan: Annoying Customer and Overwhelming Explosions
-[X] Eta Nu 9-35 -[X] You were there, when Horus slew the Emperor: at least almost. You saw the fall of the Mechanicum of old, the loss of so much knowledge in the destruction unleashed by Kelbor Hal, and the long retreat from Mars towards the Eye of Terror. Of course, the warp was turbulent indeed: you arrived on Nuton's Folly a pauper in a broken ship a mere century or so ago, an outsider in already established power structures.
-[X] You were behind production targets, and so in order to meet them you put more strain upon the generators that powered the Forge Complexes of the Moon that you had requisitioned for the project. When that did not work, you put up more strain, and then more, and more, and more, disabling safeguards and shrinking safety margins as you went. You managed to finish the project, but in the aftermath a catastrophic chain reaction occurred, the reactor cores deep within the moon's core blowing it apart in a truly spectacular explosion.
-[X]Damanos Sius, Lord-Monarch of the Thralls of Excess sought you out personally to create a pack of Hunting Hounds for him and his Warbands. You created them, on time, budget, and within specifications five times, and each time Damanos Sius returned with more and bigger demands, seeking perfection he refused to specify. Upon completion of the sixth batch, through all the sacrifice it took, he actually wept, claiming them to be as close to perfection as any mortal could manage. You took your payment from him in that moment of weakness, and fully intend to never answer any of his calls ever again.
-[X] Request to be Servitorized instead.
[X] Plan: Perfect Schism
-[X] Name: Phi-Epsilon//3.14 -[X] You were there, when Horus slew the Emperor: at least almost. You saw the fall of the Mechanicum of old, the loss of so much knowledge in the destruction unleashed by Kelbor Hal, and the long retreat from Mars towards the Eye of Terror. Of course, the warp was turbulent indeed: you arrived on Nuton's Folly a pauper in a broken ship a mere century or so ago, an outsider in already established power structures. -[X] You…don't actually remember why you did it. You remember every step you took to achieve it: the orders sent out to the reactors, the forged work orders aimed at increasing the stockpile of ammunition kept within the arsenals of Nuton III, the injection of scrap code and contradicting orders into the systems of every Magos that might have prevented it. Objectively speaking, you had no reason to do it. You also recall the deep satisfaction you felt when you saw the moon tear itself apart, taking your chief rival's project with it. That did not feel like it stemmed from you either, not entirely. You may, to your deep embarrassment, have a secret and heretofore undiscovered passenger.
-[X]Damanos Sius, Lord-Monarch of the Thralls of Excess sought you out personally to create a pack of Hunting Hounds for him and his Warbands. You created them, on time, budget, and within specifications five times, and each time Damanos Sius returned with more and bigger demands, seeking perfection he refused to specify. Upon completion of the sixth batch, through all the sacrifice it took, he actually wept, claiming them to be as close to perfection as any mortal could manage. You took your payment from him in that moment of weakness, and fully intend to never answer any of his calls ever again.
-[X] Request to be Servitorized instead.
[X] Plan Old Heretek -[X]Rho 5-Qvosch -[X] You were there, when Horus slew the Emperor: at least almost. You saw the fall of the Mechanicum of old, the loss of so much knowledge in the destruction unleashed by Kelbor Hal, and the long retreat from Mars towards the Eye of Terror. Of course, the warp was turbulent indeed: you arrived on Nuton's Folly a pauper in a broken ship a mere century or so ago, an outsider in already established power structures. -[X] You were behind production targets, and so in order to meet them, you put more strain on the reactors that provided energy for the Forge Complexes you had requisition to meet them. When that didn't work out, you panicked, and began instead increasing the stockpiles of raw materials you were using, parts of which were highly combustible. When that didn't put you back on schedule, you started bringing in more workers, striking a deal for borrowed slaves with one of the Chaos Warbands currently in orbit around Nuton's Folly, putting you in more debt but also back on schedule. You managed to reach your production target, but then issues arose at handover, when some of the slaves got loose, into the stockpiles, which caused a detonation that in turn disabled several of the safeguards on the generators. This would usually not have been an issue, but in this particular case, given the already increased strain, led to a chain reaction. Then the moon ripped apart. -[X]The 261th Company of the Iron Warriors put out a commission to you for an entire army of Murder Servitors, and entrusted you with their creation. This is largely because you had fought alongside them in the grueling campaign on Drabadu IV, and they had seen what you could do. It was the sheer number of Servitors you had to create and store that put a strain on your abilities, especially as you were far more used to creating them under far less quality-controlled conditions.
-[X] Request to be Servitorized instead.
[x] Plan Murderbots
-[X] You used to be a Tech Priest of the benighted Imperium, before a mixture of curiosity and arrogance brought you and your experiments under the scrutiny of the Inquisition and it's Mechanicus-equivalent organ, who are if anything a bit more zealous about that sort of thing. You ran from the shattered, burning ruins of your laboratory on Phaeton, making your way into the Eye of Terror and, after many trials and tribulations, to Nuton's Folly
-[X] You were behind production targets, and so in order to meet them you put more strain upon the generators that powered the Forge Complexes of the Moon that you had requisitioned for the project. When that did not work, you put up more strain, and then more, and more, and more, disabling safeguards and shrinking safety margins as you went. You managed to finish the project, but in the aftermath a catastrophic chain reaction occurred, the reactor cores deep within the moon's core blowing it apart in a truly spectacular explosion. -[X]The 261th Company of the Iron Warriors put out a commission to you for an entire army of Murder Servitors, and entrusted you with their creation. This is largely because you had fought alongside them in the grueling campaign on Drabadu IV, and they had seen what you could do. It was the sheer number of Servitors you had to create and store that put a strain on your abilities, especially as you were far more used to creating them under far less quality-controlled conditions.
-[X] Request to be Servitorized instead.
[X] Plan Techgnosticism -[X] You were there, when Horus slew the Emperor: at least almost. You saw the fall of the Mechanicum of old, the loss of so much knowledge in the destruction unleashed by Kelbor Hal, and the long retreat from Mars towards the Eye of Terror. Of course, the warp was turbulent indeed: you arrived on Nuton's Folly a pauper in a broken ship a mere century or so ago, an outsider in already established power structures. -[X] You…don't actually remember why you did it. You remember every step you took to achieve it: the orders sent out to the reactors, the forged work orders aimed at increasing the stockpile of ammunition kept within the arsenals of Nuton III, the injection of scrap code and contradicting orders into the systems of every Magos that might have prevented it. Objectively speaking, you had no reason to do it. You also recall the deep satisfaction you felt when you saw the moon tear itself apart, taking your chief rival's project with it. That did not feel like it stemmed from you either, not entirely. You may, to your deep embarrassment, have a secret and heretofore undiscovered passenger. -[X]You were tasked with infusing several Titans provided to you by the Warband of the Black Legion knowns as the Brethren of Abbadon with Daemons, a task you accomplished with aplomb, though the facilities you needed to construct ahead of time to actually contain and transport these Daemon Titans strained your capabilities to the brink.
-[X] Request to be Servitorized instead.
[X] Plan Mister Digital Abomination
-[X] vau$t1n1us m4rc0s VI.III/IV
-[X] You used to be a Tech Priest of the benighted Imperium, before a mixture of curiosity and arrogance brought you and your experiments under the scrutiny of the Inquisition and it's Mechanicus-equivalent organ, who are if anything a bit more zealous about that sort of thing. You ran from the shattered, burning ruins of your laboratory on Phaeton, making your way into the Eye of Terror and, after many trials and tribulations, to Nuton's Folly
-[X] You were behind production targets, and so in order to meet them you put more strain upon the generators that powered the Forge Complexes of the Moon that you had requisitioned for the project. When that did not work, you put up more strain, and then more, and more, and more, disabling safeguards and shrinking safety margins as you went. You managed to finish the project, but in the aftermath a catastrophic chain reaction occurred, the reactor cores deep within the moon's core blowing it apart in a truly spectacular explosion.
-[X] A Warband of what you assume to be of the Alpha Legion had sought you out (through intermediaries, of course) specifically for your notable skill at creating Scrap Code, asked to erect a ship-mobile Kill Cogitator capable of infecting entire Hive Worlds with it's malignant signals. What you created was a thing of true beauty. It was the facilities you needed to build, and the physical components required, that put you behind schedule.
[X] Plan Wretched Wrench Wench
-[x] QT-π.
-[X] You used to be a Tech Priest of the benighted Imperium, before a mixture of curiosity and arrogance brought you and your experiments under the scrutiny of the Inquisition and it's Mechanicus-equivalent organ, who are if anything a bit more zealous about that sort of thing. You ran from the shattered, burning ruins of your laboratory on Phaeton, making your way into the Eye of Terror and, after many trials and tribulations, to Nuton's Folly -[X] You were behind production targets, and so in order to meet them, you put more strain on the reactors that provided energy for the Forge Complexes you had requisition to meet them. When that didn't work out, you panicked, and began instead increasing the stockpiles of raw materials you were using, parts of which were highly combustible. When that didn't put you back on schedule, you started bringing in more workers, striking a deal for borrowed slaves with one of the Chaos Warbands currently in orbit around Nuton's Folly, putting you in more debt but also back on schedule. You managed to reach your production target, but then issues arose at handover, when some of the slaves got loose, into the stockpiles, which caused a detonation that in turn disabled several of the safeguards on the generators. This would usually not have been an issue, but in this particular case, given the already increased strain, led to a chain reaction. Then the moon ripped apart. -[X]The 261th Company of the Iron Warriors put out a commission to you for an entire army of Murder Servitors, and entrusted you with their creation. This is largely because you had fought alongside them in the grueling campaign on Drabadu IV, and they had seen what you could do. It was the sheer number of Servitors you had to create and store that put a strain on your abilities, especially as you were far more used to creating them under far less quality-controlled conditions.
-[X] Request to be Servitorized instead.
