OOC:
Hey, let's explore a very new addition to the Warhammer 40,000 universe, the Leagues of Votann. Personally, I think they're pretty awesome, and I know just the triad to explore it. Also, there are some blue jokes here, so be warned.
IC:
(The Right Vainglorious Mx. Antimony Aphrodite-Thor Dangereux: Well, ladies, gentlemen, and those of us who know better, it's an
honor to spend some time working on these reviews. I, of course, stand tall above these reviews, the mythic nature of my deeds obvious to anyone who has even so much as been informed that outer space as a concept exists.)
Oh, yes, we're currently about to talk about the Leagues of Votann, an under-explored part of the Milky Way! I am so thankful to have such a noble and well-traveled companion on this
literary journey!
(Antimony: Naturally. Hopefully my rapier wit will be as useful in this endeavor as my chain-rapier. It is pleasant to be with someone such as yourself. I understand you are quite poor, do you need me to donate you a moon?)
A moon? Good heavens, no, thank you for your most generous offer but that will not be necessary.
(Sister Vandire: Ugh, Rogue Traders.)
(Antimony: Ah, Felicity, your sour tongue tastes of lemons and perfume.)
(Sister Vandire: What does that mean?)
(Antimony: Your barbed tongue reminds me of a younger, more feminine version of myself, and quite the androgynous amazon-Theseus I was. Someday you must spend your time on my ship, the Alpha Polecat Nine. The beds are made of anti-gravity. Why, I get my best thoughts done on those. There was this one time that a malevolent Last Hatred offshoot controlled a poor planet, and so I had to create a masterful plot on those beds. Then again, a bed can be used for many things.)
(Sister Vandire: Are you asking me out?)
(Antimony: No, no, no, I know you're married to the God-Emperor. Unless you'd like to try a polycule?)
(Sister Vandire: ...Damn, that was pretty good.)
(Antimony: I kid, I don't think that's much of a
thing among the Sisters of Battle. I really do need to send you a bottle of platinum-infused silk-wine sometime, I got an entire cask when I saved Sebastian V from a war-fleet of space pirates.)
(Sister Vandire: I don't know whether I want to fuck you or slap you.)
(Antimony: Why not both?)
(Sister Vandire: I like both.)
No, Antimony, please don't steal my future girlfriend!
(Sister Vandire: Your what?)
...Oh, erm, that slipped out.
(Sister Vandire: In text?)
Yes????
(Sister Vandire: Oh, I think I get it. You're a dork.)
Possibly. Maybe.
(Sister Vandire: You know, I think I'll leave my options on the table, but I'm not ruling anyone out.)
(Antimony: A clever choice!)
Oh, thank Ynnead.
By the mysteries of the crucible are they given form and strength. By the molten fires and pounding pistons of the forge are they armed and armoured. By the Votann and by the Fane are they given wisdom and purpose. And by the searing wrath of the hearth are they filled with the fury to overcome any foe.
Erm, I can be suave! Look at this! There are words! How about that, Wordy O'Wordingtonshire?
(Antimony: I like you, you have vim.)
Welcome to Codex: Leagues of Votann. The data-tome you hold is replete with lore concerning the race who call themselves the Kin. Their long history; their many Leagues; their indomitable Kinhosts; all is recorded within. Read on to learn more, then make ready to muster your Oathband. There is a galaxy of perils to be overcome, and the Ancestors are watching.
(Antimony: Actually, I've found their Kinhosts quite dominable. In fact, I daresay that they are able to be dommed.)
Oh, by Ynnead, did you actually say that?
(Antimony: Yes? Is this a poor person faux pas I'm too wealthy to understand?)
Well, erm, to "dom" someone means to engage in servile games with them, so you were saying that you wanted to play servile games with the entirety of the Kinhosts.
(Antimony: Oh, dear, that was not my intent. Let me buy you a star yacht.)
Thank you very much for the offer, but I don't need a star yacht, and it is a bit much...
(Antimony: It really is trifling, barely an apology for my accidental lewdness. I should be at least considering getting you a megayacht.)
Few races in the galaxy are as redoubtable, courageous or determined as the Kin who make up the Leagues of Votann. Nor are many as ruthless when it comes to the risk-and-reward calculus of war. To face them in battle is to stand before an armoured avalanche that crushes all in its path. It is to be appraised and then brusquely dealt with by attackers who see you as little more than an obstruction, or else as a hated nemesis whose annhilation is worth any cost.
This strikes me as the usual bigotry, intended to demonize the Kin. In reality, the Kin are a full and complex species, one whose members vary in personality almost as much as Terrans.
To those they fight alongside or trade with, the Kin are invaluable allies. However, those they deem a risk to their peoples' survival they destroy with the same relentless rigour that the Kin apply to harvesting accretion discs, manufacturing their incredible technologies or, indeed, anything else they set their minds to.
These Codexes often describe the positives and negatives of various species from an Imperial point of view, but they rarely allow for any complexity or nuance. This all has the tone of some pulp adventure.
The Leagues of Votann are huge and formidable stellar empires, united by shared kinship and - as the emergence of the Great Rift sends ripples of upheaval through the galactic core and beyond - they are coming into violent collision with the other sentient races more than ever before.
Must these books focus so much on war?
(Antimony: It is a wargame, and a very fun one! I know I enjoy painting, articulating, and roboticizing my Flash Gits Ork army!)
You actually play this prejudiced game?
(Antimony: Well, yes, I need something to bet torso-sized diamonds and rifles from the Dark Age of Technology on.)
You gamble?
(Antimony: Oh, I've courted, dated, and pleasantly romanced Lady Luck many times in my day!)
Collecting a Leagues of Votann army for Warhammer 40,000 provides unique and exciting challenges. On the gaming table they are an army that combines massed armoured transportation, formidable close-range firepower and immense resilience - both physical and psychological - to close with the foe and then blast them into submission. Their advance is relentless and, thanks to technologies such as massed teleportation and magna-coil vehicles, the Kin have the ability to strike where and when they want with meticulous precision.
Well, this is odd. The Codex is claiming here that the Kin have higher technology than the Imperium, and seeming to glorify it. Was this Codex written by an Imperial?
(Sister Vandire: It says here this was written by "Yymm Ork Bane". That sounds like a Kinnish name to me.)
Well, then I think we can treat "mass teleportation" as being a bit of an exaggeration.
(Sister Vandire: It does seem unlikely.)
(Antimony: Oh, the truth is stranger than you'd think, and the strangers are truer than you'd fear!)
What does that mean?
(Antimony: Perhaps this Codex just got...Kinconclusive.)
What does
that mean?
(Antimony: It sounds like this skald-told epic has just developed a
twist.)
I don't think that's actual wordplay!
(Sister Vandire: It sounds like a joke to me. Maybe even a pun.)
(Vior Or'es: What is a pun?)
Within are the rules you'll need to transform your collection into an Oathband or Prospect fit to strike out into far-space, and claim the stars from those who no longer deserve them.
(Vior Or'es: These Kin seem like they should be more respectful of other cultures.)
(Sister Vandire: They should be more respectful of my culture, specifically.)
(Antimony: Ah, leave it to a military woman to become a jingoist.)
(Sister Vandire: Leave it to a Rogue Trader to lord xyr ill-gotten wealth over everyone.)
(Antimony: You're sure you don't want the parfait?)
(Sister Vandire: I'll stick to my prepackaged meals.)
(Antimony: We both know you're just saying that.)
(Sister Vandire: I am, but how about you get off my dick?)
(Antimony: Well, I have my own dick, and it's made of solid gold. We should fence, sometime.)
(Sister Vandire: It's a figure of speech!)
(Antimony: I'm genuinely sorry, I didn't know.)
(Sister Vandire: It's...fine. Wait, were you talking about dick-fencing?)
(Antimony: Yes, the fine and storied sport of mechanical penis fencing. It has a host of symbolic meanings, and there have been great poems about the twist of the wrist.)
(Sister Vandire: Emperor protect me.)
Skies darken as the immense void ships of the Kin settle into orbit. Dark shapes streak groundwards as a rain of military landers and dropships bear the Kinhost to war.
Their armoured spearheads strike hard and true. Hekaton land fortresses smash through barricades and over obstructions as enemy fire rebounds harmlessly from their hulls. Lighter vehicles race alongside them, swinging around the flanks or focusing heavy weapons on enemy strongpoints to strip away the outer defences. As teleport signatures flare and hatches slam open, the Kinhost's infantry surge into the fight and the storm of fire redoubles.
Moving with unity of purpose, the Kin assess and eliminate threats. Searing beams of energy bore through fortifications and vehicle hulls. Squads of Hearthkyn advance relentlessly, hammering bolt rounds and plasma blasts into anyone foolish enough to bar their path. Cthonian beserks and heavily armoured Hearthguard storm in to finish their foes at close quarters. Soon enough, nothing remains but the prize that the Kin came to claim, and the scattered bodies of those who sought to stop them.
Well, this is blatant war fetishization on the part of the author.
(Antimony: It is worth noting that the Kin have a tradition known in Low Gothic as talespinning, a sort of culturally-accepted bragging. You've never had a good day until you've dueled a Kin pirate with your chain-rapier, talespinning self-praise back and forth over a pool of molten red-hot metal.)
(Sister Vandire: I could do that if I wanted to.)
For thousands of years the Leagues of Votann have exploited the riches of the galactic core and overcome the perils of that tomultuous region. Over the millennia they have battled many of the galaxy's races, and sometimes traded with or fought as mercenaries for others. Now, as the galaxy convulses in the grip of the Great Rift, they face new challenges, and new wars.
The Kin are squat, powerfully built humanoids. They dwell in vast numbers within the galactic core, being not so populous as the teeming humans, but far better established than the nascent T'au or dwindling Aeldari.
The Aeldari are certainly not
dwindling.
(Vior Or'es: Yes, and the T'au are far from nascent! Both are established powers, underreported by the Imperium!)
(Antimony: Merely talespinning!)
...Well, I feel offended.
They are a clone race; each generation emerges from machines known as crucibles, which draw upon vast banks of genomic data to produce a stable and varied populace. Their numbers are further augmented by the Ironkin, machine intelligences clad in mechanical bodies that are dedicated to aiding their flesh-and-blood fellows. To the Kin, the Ironkin are equal and valuable members of their starfaring society, both in times of peace and war.
(Sister Vandire: If you ever wanted proof that the Kin are trying to make the same mistakes as Dark Age Humanity, there it is. They've made Men of Iron.)
(Antimony: Besides, abuse of Ironkin is a problem.)
(Sister Vandire: ...Well, when the Ironkin rise up and try to exterminate organic life, don't say I didn't warn you.)
(Antimony: That sounds like you're saying a robot rebellion could
steel be a problem.)
(Sister Vandire: How about you suck my dick?)
(Antimony: Do Sisters of Battle normally bring up their dicks this often?)
(Sister Vandire: I didn't say I had one, it's also a figure of speech!)
(Antimony: Do you want a dick?)
(Sister Vandire: I don't know, it changes based on my mood!)
(Antimony: You can't just get yourself a two-phase gold-plated vagina-cock transforming implant?)
(Sister Vandire: Emperor, grant me the strength to persist in this temple of sin.)
From painful experience has emerged the rugged survivalist culture of the Kin, who find strength and unity in the endless quest to acquire the resources their Kindreds need to endure. It is this apparent acquisitiveness that has caused many other species to judge the kin - often harshly - as selfish hoarders.
(Sister Vandire: Greedy planet pillagers. They are selfish hoarders trying to maintain an unethical and self-destructive pre-Fall of Man lifestyle.)
That seems a bit harsh. I never understood the Imperium's obsession with strict technological control.
(Sister Vandire: I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I don't think it's something you'd be able to wrap your head around.)
Is this a "hard decisions" thing?
(Antimony: It always is with the Imperium's people-at-arms. Dreadfully beastly.)
All Kin - barring only rare outcasts - belong to a Kindred. These are groupings somewhere between extended families and close-knit nations, and vary in size from a few dozens of Kin up to many thousands or even millions! All Kin in a Kindred have sprung from its crucibles, and thus share a genetic bond stronger than allegiance to any flag.
I do think that this focus on genetic loyalty is making me distinctly uncomfortable.
(Antimony: Well, the thing you need to realize about the Kin is that they're ethnocentric.)
That isn't a good thing, surely?
(Antimony: It's not, no. That said, the Codex does exaggerate it, likely because the author is an ideological ethnocentric. We should avoid taking this Codex's words uncritically, as Yymm Ork Bane is known to be...well, a bit of a gene in the rear.)
(Sister Vandire: That isn't even a pun! Why was I ever into you?)
(Antimony: You were into me?)
(Sister Vandire: No!)
(Antimony: I think we flirted once?)
(Sister Vandire: Just once!)
The Kin habitually load apparently simple terms such as 'Hold' with nuanced meaning, being disinclined to even waste words. Thus, while the term is used throughout the Leagues of Votann, it can refer to wildly different structures and locations. Some Holds are fusions of fortification, city, industrial complex and strip mine, the largest of which may sprawl across or honeycomb beneath much of a world's surface. Others may be heavily armed void stations, chains of domes scattered through asteroid belts, nomadic harvesting fleets, syphoning plants riding the fringes of black holes, or even stranger marvels of technology.
(Antimony: As they say in the Leagues of Votann, "Let loose the war-arrow and bring about the dawning day.")
What does that mean?
(Antimony: I have no idea!)
It sounds questionable.
(Antimony: It's a quote from Yymm Ork Bane.)
A Kindred can be a commanding force. Its Hold may boast bustling cityscapes, industrial and military powerhouses, and many massive void ships. Yet greater stil are the Leagues of Votann. Nearly all Kindreds are part of one or another League, proudly displaying their colours and emblems while sharing trade, military support, Guild tarifs and so on. Many Leagues have existed for millennia. 'The Greater Thurian League, the Ymyr Conglomerate, the Urani-Surtr Regulates, the Typhon-Styx Protectorate and others are established and ancient power blocs. Some, such as the ill-fated Kapellan League, have declined over the centuries, while others - like the Kronus Hegemony or the Seran-Tok Mercantile Leagues - are more recently established.
At the heart of every League lies at least one Votann, also known as Ancestor Cores. The Kin believe these venerable thinking machines were created in a lost age of myth, and departed their home world aboard the first Kin mining flets. The Votann were sent into the void alongside the Kin to provide them with al the wisdom and aid they would require. The nodes through which that wisdom flowed have now become the Fanes that lie within all Kindred Holds. 'The Votann areof incalculable value and importance to the Kin. The millennia have wrought strange changes in these machine-intelligences, rendering them ponderous and senescent, yet they remain all-knowing repositories oflore and treasured links to the Ancestors of untold centuries. Kin who can commune with the Votann are known as the Grimnyr, or sometimes Living Ancestors, and are universally respected.
The Votann, of course, are relics from the Age of High Technology, ones that used to be far more capable and efficient than they are now. Even in their vastly reduced state, they are mighty computers.
(Antimony: I've heard tales that there might be ways for them to regain some or even all of their former potential!)
(Sister Vandire: Everything in this galaxy declines. I doubt it.)
(Antimony: Oh, no, just as sure as the Imperium is falling, many things will be rising again!)
Such as the Drukhari or the T'au?
(Antimony: Absolutely.)
(Sister Vandire: You'll miss us when we're gone. You'll wish you had us keeping you safe.)
(Antimony: Felicity, haven't you ever wanted more than just to be a nun-soldier?)
(Sister Vandire: What?)
(Antimony: Perhaps someday you might fly with me on my treasure fleets, carving a new empire out of the husk of the God-Emperor's.)
(Sister Vandire: What, so you're a traitor?)
(Antimony: Oh, no! Just a merchant! I don't plan to betray anything! I'll serve the Imperium loyally until there isn't an Imperium, and then my true legend will be forged!)
(Sister Vandire: Well, at least you don't have a thing for Tyranids.)
