He was one of the psykers that had foreseen where the Wardens would reside and had planted the chaos artifact there. As such, the rest of the cultists followed him, just as planned. Sadly, the accursed incompetent underlings were unable to deal with the Valhallans, even with the Wardens that had seen the true glory of chaos.
Brother-Seargent Malachiel wept a great many tears as he fought on, dodging the warp-fire tossed by the cultist's pyskers - slowly inching forward against the horrible presence of the foul daemons tearing through his Space Marines. Howling in anguish at watching yet another brother die, Malachiel rushed forward ignoring the heavy pressure on his mind. Thoughts only on vengeance and death.
Constant pounding in his skull echoed the stomps of his feet as he tore across the field, streaking through the cultist lines and straight into the Daemon's open arms. But, he was ready. With gusto he opened up with his Volkite, ensuring each shot hit the monstrosity before him. Yet, it was all for naught.
A deep echoing laugh seemed to reverberate throughout his head as he stared on at the daemonic hordes that only seemed to grow in number. "Give in..."
Gritting his teeth, Malachiel impaled a lesser daemon that had attempted to attack him from behind. Spinning, he turn and flung the impaled daemon onto the ground upon which he stomped on it's skull - shattering it and scattering blood and bone across the floor. Yet the whispers that had been a constant companion since they had shown up on the planet persisted. In fact, they only seemed to grow stronger as time progressed. Still, Malachiel rejected those awful whispers. He would stand. He would not Fall! You are marked for Greater things more Glorious things, Malachiel...
The daemonic and cultists assault redoubled in ferocity and the onslaught continued. Malachiel stood strong in the face of such horror, as his brothers inspired the courage of the Seargent continued to hold the line, and in-spite of the best efforts of the enemy moved it forwards inch by inch. As the fighting continued Malachiel strained himself, pushing his augmented body to it's limits knowing the very best was the least he could do. For if they fell here, they fell forever. Accept your fate Malachiel
Malachiel snarled in pain and frustration as the pounding of his skull worsened. Yet, the pain was temporary. For his brothers he would continue on. For the Imperium he would continue this fight. For the Primarch, he would stand tall! And stand tall he would! Rejoice for the Fate that awaits you! "Never!" He roared aloud, his shout carrying forth to both foe and ally alike. The Daemons seemed to flinch as the words washed over them, while the Witch Hunters and Space Marines continued to press on forward, not only holding the line but shifting it entirely. Yet, even as he continued on forwards fighting for the Primarch and the Imperium, Malachiel's sight began to dim as darkness encroached upon it from the corners. I will not fall, I will stand tall. I will not fall, I will stand tall. I will not fall, I will stand.... I will not fall, I .... I will.... And yet you did, not willingly of course. Yet you fell, and we shall remember your struggles, your battle to stand strong. We will learn from that, and remember you. So we too might stand tall, despite the inevitable fall.
He did not hear the worried shouts of his brothers, or see them rushing to catch his collapsed frame. As blackness took him, all he heard was a deep chuckle.
That's what they all think...and yet with a little push, they all fall.
Edit: changed up some things.... let me know when you notice.
Hektor hissed as he fell to his knees, his right hand rising up to grab at what remained of his severed left arm. The inability to see out his left eye let him know that the Lost had taken part of his sight from him. Limited in sight and mobility he may be, but Hektor still carried within him the indomitable will Astartes were known for. Even with the moral crippling event that was fighting against his own Brother, his brother who had been Lost to him, humanity, and the Primarch - Hektor found strength to rise.
"Why do you persist, brother?" The being that had once been Malachiel sneared at him. "You are weak, just like the rest of our brothers. Give in and die like them!"
"Foul Daemon," Cried Hektor. "You are the weak one, borne of petty thoughts and tiny doomed souls, merely echoed remnants floating through the Warp."
"And yet, we hold powers you could never touch, unless you where willing to join us..." Responded the moving corpse.
Glaring into it's eyes, Hektor spit at the being. Who did nothing to dodge it, taking the spit to the face.
"And yet you still..." It began only to stop as it felt it's face melting.
Smiling at the simplicity in the attack, Hektor pushed off the ground - charging forward at full speed. His body rammed into the midsection what had been his brother. Together they tumbled to the ground, with the creature bearing the worst of the impact. Scrambling to grab the bolter at it's waist, Hektor soon found himself flying through the air until the ground came rushing up and hit him, knocking the air out of him and granting him more pain.
"I had thought you harmless in your current state... I was wrong." Stated the Lost, it's voice full of anger and amusement. "For that, I thank you. For that, I shall grant you an even more painful death."
"I will stand tall..." Hektor whispered as he stared death in the eyes.
Grinning the Lost looked down upon the ragged and wounded form that was Hektor. "Hm... What was that brother? I couldn't quite hear you?"
Hektor could hear the grin in its words, yet none-the-less he answered. "I will stand tall!" He roared, surprising the daemon once more by rising up off the the ground and to full height. In his remaining hand was a power spear taken from one of the fallen Imperial corpses he had landed near.
"Still you persist," The Lost said as Hektor charged him once more. "Still you fight on! Why? What is there to fight for?"
"Because brother," Roared Hektor. The scavenged spear singing in his hands as he rushed at his brother. "I shall stand tall! For those we Cherish!"
The Lost made no attempts to move, so confident in the abilities granted by the Warp and it's foul denizens that it merely stood looking on as the wounded Astartes ran at it. A slight grunt was all that it made as the spear pierced its breast and ran it through.
Peals of laughter rang out as the Lost looked down at the weapon stuck through it's chest. "Is this all you can do? What little your will represents?" it called out as it grabbed a hold of Hektor who remained holding the spear. "Pathetic. You should have just given in. But you didn't... and now you die."
Yet as the Lost's hands moved from his arm to gripping and applying pressure to his head, Hektor smiled. Looking up at what had been Malachiel, he had one last thing to say. "Don't you remember how I wanted to die, brother?" All life ends, especially that of stars. But some are unwilling to go quietly into the night. They die with raging infernos and lights, exploding and consuming all around it.
"Huh?" Was all it had time for before an explosion consumed both of them. Incinerating and tearing apart the two, ending what had once been a good man and brother, slaying the daemon that he had become.
So ended the tale of a Fallen Daemon Hunter - not with a whisper, but with a big bang.
Fuck it, let the first part of my omake series begin. With the tell of Planet Aetus and the main Character Baldur's little chronicle on. We won't see it's fall, but we'll see how it became what would fall.
Chronicles of Baldur: Aetus and it's Fall
The universe has many horrors yet to throw at us. This is not the end of our struggle. This is just the beginning of our crusade to save Humanity. Be faithful! Be strong! Be vigilant! Without vigilance we are doomed, we must watch and stay watching. An Eternal Warden of Humanity ~The Emperor Of Mankind
Aetus had once been a peaceful and wealthy world, it's compliance had been simple diplomacy. Perhaps that was the telling sign of what was to come. Known for it's extravagant cities, and beautiful natural environment - the planet was a jewel, a beacon in the darkness of the 30th millennia. Through the Age of Strife and the terrible Warp Storms the planet stood tall and beautiful. Beauty can attract the wrong attention, and it did. Remember the Planet and it's Citizens as they were, not how they are
The denizens of the planet lived comparatively happy lives for the horror that plagued the galaxy. And yet all was not well.
Allowed a freedom unknown to most others, due to the ease in which the joined the Imperium alongside the DAOT technology that was littered across the planet, one could easily identify why this planet above others knew such freedoms. Yet this freedom was the poison by which this planet fell. If only a tighter leash had been given, if only a closer eye turned...
It's people flourished under the meritocracy of the planet, and the lack of shackles that could bind them down. Competence was the key to advancement, no birth right privileges - nothing of such nature the original Planet's ruler had decreed would keep the people down. And so the dissolution of classes would come to fruition.
And like, Primarch Dorlin's Primer had said - so began the Planets downfall as Cultists began to infiltrate and gain power throughout various organizations, including the government. From the shadows pressure was applied, and plans began to be put into place. Ignorance was our enemy, but now we are educated. We will watch, we shall be vigilant. No threat will go unnoticed.
Calling attention the state of the Galaxy and the wishes of the Imperium, the Governor found himself beset with requests and proposals to militarize the planet. It was unfortunate the Governor was weak-willed, and yet a loyal member of the Imperium willing to do what he could to aid it. And so, he drew up plans and put them into action. The path to damnation requires only good intentions and small steps...
Defensive structures were constructed and orbital defense stations were arrayed, a stupendous cost yet one many citizens seemed willing to pay. The Governor was soon beset with more pleas, from the populace and from his own cabinet for more defenses and to train up an army, a militia, something to defend themselves and contribute greatly to the cause with. Good deeds leading to misdeeds, an irony our foes would beset us with
"Let it be so!" He decreed, calling upon favors owed and the formation of a PDF and force that was to be given to the Imperial Army began. Citizens joined left and right, and soon the amount joining outnumbered the arms available. Inspired by this show, the Governor called upon the Imperium and they answered sending forth more supplies and men to train up their soon to be comrades. How blind we where... How blind the Imperium was. If only we had educated more on the methodology of the Cultist.
Defenses continued to be erected, bunkers built and stockpiles made larger. Regiments were trained, all seemed to know how to fight. How to wield a weapon, how to kill. Trained and taught the tactics learned through the years of the Crusade the planet was made into a fortress, a beautiful one with a well trained populace. It's people contributing greatly to Crusade. And that was when it fell apart.
The first acts of the year encompassed research. Following the previous year, where the Mechanicus had forgotten to supply resources that were promised, the Tech Priests were extremely apologetic and made sure to shower the XIth Primarch with resources. As a result, Kesar was able to conduct three sets of researches in parallel.
The first research was on Gene Seed, the complex serum that enabled the creation of Astartes. Kesar was able to learn a great deal on the subject, but there was so much information stored that it would take years to fully understand it. He found that there were two factors to the process, a physical/genetic factor and a spiritual/psychic effect. So far, he had focused primarily on the physical process. It was complex, to say the least. Each individual organ was highly complicated, but still Kesar could understand their functions. While he understood how they worked, he found that they were more effective than they should be, but this was a research for later. The main issue that prevented genetic research to be fully completed this year was Omophagea. This organ clearly operated using the warp, but there was also a component that functioned physically as physical digestion was needed. Yet, Kesar could not find a link between the Astartes digestive system and this organ. Fascinating.
Meanwhile, Kesar also worked on modeling Gellar Fields. The mathematics involved in this process were highly complex, but Kesar was nevertheless able to create a mathematical model of these arcane devices. When he ran the model on a set of 25 cogitators, he found a peculiar result. While the gravitational barrier around the ship did repel the warp, it still would allow daemons into the ship. The barrier was simply not strong enough. Moreover, in the event of certain Gellar Field failures, parts of the ship were still secure, so clearly there was something more to it. The solution was found after Kesar adjusted the mathematical models to account for unknown particles. He found that an extremely high energy particle ricocheting off of the gravitational barrier would saturate the interior of a ship and prevent warp entities from encroaching. When this barrier fluctuates, the particles escape and as they slowly rebuild, daemons take advantage and enter the ship. The one problem Kesar saw was that by enclosing the ship in a gravitational bubble, the warp engines should not be able to propel the ship. Curious, and something to look into.
Lastly, Kesar began to map warp based mutations. He had already found information on curing warp mutations from the Dark Age ruins on Valhalla, but he had no idea how to apply them. As such, he delved into the various types of mutations caused by the warp. He found that there were far too many to catalog adequately. Interestingly, a particular type of cult with unusually high levels of psykers tended to have more mutations. Nevertheless, these mutations could still be lumped into 6 separate groups. 4 for each of the major cultist factions, 1 for genetically engineered mutants from the Dark Age, and 1 from thousands of years of evolution in warp tainted areas. Nevertheless, after this research, Kesar learned how to properly apply the Dark Age knowledge on how to treat most of these mutations. This would drastically increase the effectiveness of genetic screening facilities.
For runic design, Kesar began work on a Rune of Reinforcement. This rune was a rather simple rune, and the first half was completed. So far, it seemed to strengthen the intermolecular bonds between materials. The only issue was that this turned the bonds rigid, which made the material brittle. In order to fix this, Kesar needed to modify the rune so that it would strengthen the bonds, whilst retaining flexibility between the molecules.
*Basic Gene Seed 1/2 years complete*
*Gellar Field Mathematical Modelling Complete*
*Gellar Fields Engine Interaction Partially Unlocked*
*Warp Mutation Mapping Complete*
*Preventing Warp Mutation Complete*
*Genetic Screening Effectiveness Cap Increased to 95%*
*Rune of Reinforcement 1/2 years complete*
Following the research, Kesar then decided to visit his brother Horus. Horus was a rather charming Primarch from what he had heard, so far, he was one of the only Primarchs to have everyone's respect. Horus Lupercal, the first Primarch to be found, was waiting for Kesar at the steps of the Imperial Palace. "Brother, it's an honor to meet you." As he said this, the Breaker of Tyrants placed his palms against each other, brought them to his head, and bowed.
Slightly embarrassed, Kesar returned the Valhallan greeting before speaking, "Brother, I am surprised you know of my planet's traditions."
Smiling, Horus' stance relaxed as he explained how he knew. "When I heard you wanted to visit, I studied a bit about your culture. Did I happen to miss an aspect of the greeting?"
"Not at all, it's just that it's a rather old tradition on Valhalla." Chuckling at this, Horus motioned for Kesar to follow. The two Primarchs walked with their honor guards before Horus looked over at Oriacarius.
"Your first captain I take it?" At Kesar's nod, Horus directed his attention to Oriacarius before continuing. "In my opinion, what happened on Gehenna was in no way your fault, you were merely unlucky." At this, Oriacarius tensed before forcibly relaxing. In fairness, once Horus concluded the sentence, the confusing mix of emotions on the First Captain's face disappeared completely. Still, Kesar and Horus both noticed, but they politely ignored it.
"I wish I could say it was worth it." At Kesar's tone, Horus stopped and looked at his brother with concern. "I understand it was a strategic and tactical victory, yet … the cost makes it ring hollow." At this, Horus didn't look pleased, but he did look respectful of Kesar's admission.
"I assume you told me this because you are not very good at hiding your care for your sons?" Horus smirked at Oriacarius faint smile at the observation. "Don't worry, it's a good thing."
"My thanks?" Kesar was slightly confused, but then again what else was new. His brothers were strange, then again, he was rather different from them as well. Perhaps it was a result of their vastly different upbringings. Nevertheless, the two brothers continued to discuss rather inane topics such as their recent conquests, although they avoided the past year, as well as small talk on personal projects. Kesar shared his current work with runes, and Horus shared some interesting tactics he was attempting on the advice of his first captain Abaddon. Still, the topics they covered were largely of little importance. After a period of an hour, the two split with a promise to meet again something. In short, an average meeting of little importance.
Next on Kesar's agenda was spending time with his sons. They had gotten better, the grief was fading and turning into resolve, and yet, he owed them. As such, he decided to visit the Pulchra Glacier on his homeworld. A beautiful location, that Kesar always wanted to visit as a child. When he was young, he looked at pictures and imagined himself at the top. It was childish, but perhaps that would be exactly what the Wardens would want.
When the Wardens landed on Valhalla, they were greeted with a cheering populace, as the people rejoiced at the visit from a Primarch. Nevermind that Kesar considered Valhalla his homeworld, he hardly ever visited anymore. Thankfully, the citizens left them alone at his request. As a group, the Wardens traveled to the Pulchra Glacier. This glacier was a glorious sheet of ice 8 kilometers tall, with dozens of feet of dry snow at the top. When the Wardens arrived, Oriacarius looked at the glacier before speaking, "You know, I wasn't expecting such a beautiful landscape. May I ask why you brought us here?"
The temperature was freezing outside as was normal. Kesar found that he missed the biting cold, it was familiar to him. "I always wanted to visit as a child." Pausing to stare at the light snowfall, Kesar continued. "Pulchra always was an icon. The site where a group of 5 psykers stopped a daemonic incursion. Now, it's been here for 5000 years. As a child, I always wanted to climb it. Although, there was always something I was waiting for …" As Kesar trailed off, Oriacarius looked at him as did Maticus and Scafrir.
At the lack of information, Scafrir asked the question on their minds, "What were you waiting for Lord Primarch?"
At this, Kesar smiled, but it was different than his normal somber one he used rather often recently. This was a joyous smile and there was something else in there as well, but the Wardens couldn't quite make it out. "I'll tell you at the top." With that, Kesar walked forward to the glacier and began to climb up. It was a very easy climb. With numerous handholds and footholds, there was no real challenge to the climb. Nevertheless, Kesar made sure to take his time. His Legion slowed down, trying not to pass their Primarch, while Oriacarius positioned a few Astartes directly below Kesar in case he lost his grip.
After an hour of slow climbing for an Astartes, the Wardens arrived at the top of the glacier. The site from here was beautiful. The light touch of snow in the air was sparkling in the evening sun. And the valley the glacier lay in, was beyond gorgeous. The sun's rays glittered across the freezing stream, turning a tranquil brook into a colorful mirage of colors, ever changing with the flow of the river. The other side of the valley was also gorgeous, jagged spires of ice interlocked, forming intricate patterns. Of course, Oriacarius was coming up with contingencies in case they were memetic hazards, but he stopped after noticing a peaceful expression on his Primarch face. The First Captain relaxed and took in the view, it was rather beautiful.
It was at this point he was hit with a snowball.
Surprised, Oriacarius squawked, as he searched for the culprit. Momentarily, the other Wardens took up combat positions, before noticing the First Captain lightly coated with snow. Then, the Wardens took a step back and sent prayers to the poor soul that threw the snowball. Then, Kesar started laughing. Surprised, the Wardens turned to him, before they grew even more surprised at a snowball in his left hand. "Oriacarius, you're getting lax."
"Now, Kesar, just because your ambush worked, doesn't mean there are no consequences." At this, Kesar's grin only grew wider, then he threw the next snowball at Oriacarius.
The First Captain danced to the left, deftly dodging, but he wasn't the target. Instead, Captain Aurelion was hit. Surprised, the captain stepped backward, before grabbing a clump of snow and throwing it at Oriacarius as well.
Turning the dodge into a dive, Oriacarius deftly evaded the flanking assault before implementing a contingency. "Companies 1-10 execute Contingency Skychild v9 Snowball." For a moment, the rest of the Wardens just looked at each other, before several were hit by snowballs in rapid succession.
The perpetrator of the assault just grinned some more, as Kesar began to recruit his own allies. Before long, three factions formed, one under Kesar, one under Oriacarius, and one under Aurelion. A fierce battle began, as snowballs flew from every direction. At the center of it all, were Kesar and Oriacarius, laughing the entire time. Their duel was legendary. Snowballs were dodged, snowballs were hit out of the air, even other Wardens entered the fray, supporting their chosen champions with deliveries of snow and suppression fire.
The highlight, however, was certainly when one of the techmarines managed to use some of his mechadendrites to create an impromptu snowball launcher. At once, the tactics changed, with the techmarines now acting as superheavy assets. They were protected at all costs as they laid devastation on the enemy. For hours, a glorious battle was fought that would be told for years. And at the end, Kesar stood looking upon his Legion enjoying a fun time.
Noticing this, Oriacarius walked up to him, "You know Kesar, you never did answer what you were waiting for?"
"Look around Oriacarius." Following Kesar's instructions, the First Captain did so, looking over the Legion that had lost half its number a short while back. Looking at them now, they acted like children, but perhaps that's all they needed to do to de-stress. "What do you think I was waiting for?"
"Friends to share it with." Oriacarius nodded at his Primarch's care but frowned when Kesar shook his head.
"Close, but that's not it. Family. That's what I was waiting for. On Valhalla, snow was one of the few things people welcomed. Large scale attacks weren't feasible in it. When a blizzard came, families would step outside their home and play in the snow. I would look at them, happy. But I wanted that experience." Turning to Oriacarius, Kesar gave a smile filled with warmth, the smile of a proud father. "Thank you for giving me this experience."
At that, Oriacarius noticed that the sound of laughter and snowballs flying had largely disappeared. Looking at the Legion, the First Captain noticed that all of them were staring at Kesar. Awkwardly rubbing the back of his head Kesar murmured, "So, you heard all that?" At the Legion's nod, Kesar shifted for a moment, before one of the veterans from Station Gehenna asked a question.
"Did you … really mean that?" Towards the end, the Space Marine's void quivered. Reflecting on the situation, Astartes were just like children. They wanted family, so they became brothers. But above all else, they wanted their father's approval. Not as a soldier, but as a member of the family.
"I meant every word." Kesar's voice was soft and quiet. It shouldn't have carried as far as it did. Yet, somehow, it echoed off of the valley. His emotions were prevalent throughout the declaration. His happiness and joy, his pride and affection, his care and his love. All of it, encompassed in just four words. Tears fell from a few Astartes. Every one of them was a not just a Battle-Brother, they were brothers, siblings. They were closer than soldiers. They were a family.
Then, another Astartes spoke up, in a whisper, he spoke, "For those we cherish…"
"Till death do us apart."
*Gain a father to his men – Family, it's an idea we take for granted. Most of us live our lives with our parents, content with their love and affection. Some never had that chance. They go through life without a true family. Without parents or siblings. In the end, there is still one type of family they can obtain. Sons and daughters. The Eternal Wardens have an interesting relationship with their Primarch. They are close, closer than any other Legion. Parent and child, father and son, this relationship drives the Wardens forward in an effort to prove their bonds. If Kesar dies, Wardens gain +150 to combat against his killers. If 90% of the Wardens died to another group, Kesar gains +150 to all checks against them.*
*Gain Spirit of brotherhood – Brotherhood, such a lauded accolade placed upon Space Marines. They are a family born of the same father. But they still remain distant. Siblings are not always close. They can remain apart from one another and still love each other. In many Legions, many Astartes only interact with those in their own chapter. In the Wardens, this is different. Every sibling is close. Each Warden can name all of their brothers, living, dead, and Lost. What is more impressive, is their feelings for each of their siblings. They have opinions for each of their brothers. Comradery is common between Astartes, but comradery across a whole Legion is unheard of. No chance of tension between loyal Wardens. Tensions with other Legions are never incited by loyal Wardens*
With the major events finished, Kesar had two very important decisions to make. The first involved infrastructure. He was now able to begin construction and investment of production among his domain. For a start, he had to decide what to do with it.
AN: For infrastructure, upgrading from Tier 1 up to Tier 4 is 10 Production points, upgrading from tier 5 up to Tier 8 is 20 Production points, upgrading Tier 8 up to Tier 10 up an infrastructure level is 50 Production Points, upgrading Tier 11 up to Tier 13 is 100, upgrading Tier 13 and Tier 14 up one is 200, upgrading Tier 15 to a Tier 16 is 500. For technology, upgrading up to pre-industrial is 10 points, upgrading industrial up to warp space is 20, upgrading warp space to low imperial is 50, upgrading to mid imperial is 100, and upgrading to high imperial is 200. For upgrades to tech and infrastructure, don't bother saying what worlds and how many, I'll take care of that because otherwise, I think it will take too long. Just allocate PP for that.
Choose Either Top 3 or (You can split PP amongst all except the bottom 3 as an alternative):
Current PP: 774
[] Plan upgrades for the Legion
[] Plan systemwide upgrades
[] Asteroid Belt Shipyards Design – allows asteroid belt shipyards
[] Theoretical Megastructures (locked till certain conditions met)
[] Upgrade Planetary Infrastructure
[] Upgrade Planetary Technology
[] Build Buildings
-[] Nursing Clinics – -10 to plague rolls if installed on all planets (percentage based). Costs 10 PP per planet.
-[] Hospital Complexes – -5 to plague rolls if installed on all planets (percentage based). Costs 20 PP per planet. Requires nursing clinics.
-[] Doctor Training – -5 to plague rolls if installed on all planets (percentage based). Costs 20 PP per planet. Requires Hospital Complexes.
-[] First Aid courses – Decreases civilian deaths during conflicts by 20% for the planet. Costs 2 PP per planet.
-[] Gene Monitoring – -90% to mutation rate if installed on all planets (percentage based). Costs 20 PP per planet. Requires Nursing Clinics.
-[] Dedicated Atmospheric Transport – +0.1% PP per installation. (Limited to +10%). Costs 50 PP per planet.
-[] Railroads – +0.1% PP per installation. (Limited to +10%). Costs 50 PP per planet.
-[] Wet navy dockyards – +0.1% PP per installation. (Limited to +10%). Costs 50 PP per planet.
-[] Distributed Spacecraft Production – Mechanicus can build more complex ships. Costs 100 PP per planet. Only available for Tier 10 planets and above (8 currently).
-[] Distributed Weapons Production – Mechanicus can build more complex weapons. Costs 50 PP per planet. Only available for Mid-Imperial worlds and above (33 currently).
-[] Spare Parts Manufacturing – Decreased logistic. Costs 10 PP per planet.
-[] Weapons Depots – Emergency stockpiles of high-grade weapons. Removes poorly equipped malus for PDFs and militias. Costs 10 PP per world.
-[] Interstellar Docking Ports – +0.01% PP per docking port. Costs 50 PP per world.
-[] Ground to Space transportation – +0.01% PP per docking port. Costs 50 PP per world. Requires Interstellar Docking Ports
-[] Improve Housing – Costs 100 PP per planet.
Sample Plans:
[] Plan Buildings
-[] Railroads x15
[] Plan Infrastructure
-[] Upgrade Planetary Infrastructure
--[] 774 PP
Additionally, the Crusade was continuous. In the current year, Horus, Leman, Ferrus, Fulgrim, Dorn, Magnus, Perturabo, Curze, Angron, and Corax's compliance rate was largely unaffected. Sadly, both Vulkan and Lion diverted to assist Jagathai Khan with a particularly difficult group of interconnected Ork empires that had united against the Imperium in a rare show of what passed for diplomacy among Orks. Thankfully, the three of them were able to destroy the Orks and move on.
Meanwhile, Guilliman, Sanguinius, and Mortarion had much more trouble. Sanguinius was struggling with a group of Xenos that had managed to mind control a group of human planets in part due to an Alpha level psyker. In order to minimize casualties, the Blood Angels were taking their time. Guilliman however, had run across an unusual situation. A group of Xenos known as the Uophet had been raiding human worlds for sacrifices. The Ultramarines were dispatched to deal with the problem, but when they arrived, they found the humans being returned by another race known as the Ruoult. When asked why they were doing this, the Ruoult responded with "The false-matriach is unclean and their slave-childs must be stopped." Guilliman has requested the support of another Legion after several of his sons caused a diplomatic incident and were thrown out.
Mortarion meanwhile had to deal with a psyker empire that proved extremely difficult to deal with. The Death Guards normal tactics proved ineffective when it was discovered that the world had an extremely high humidity atmosphere rendering pyrotechnic weapons less useful. As such, it was a slow slog where even the Death Guards famous endurance was pushed to the limit. They succeeded, despite heavy casualties.
Currently, Kesar needed to decide what his Legion would do. Thankfully, the Emperor had agreed to allow Kesar's Legion a year to recover. Still, Kesar could and should perform some actions to benefit the Crusade.
AN: You can split the Legion if you want, just add a write-in
[] Dark Eldar – Several Dark Eldar ships have been spotted in the XI Primarch's domain. Their location is unknown, but seem to be poised to conduct a large scale operation
[] Hearth IV - A well-developed Mechanicus world that refuses to worship the Emperor as the Omnissiah. They claim that there is a distinct difference between the two. They say that they are happy to remain independent and have offered non-aggression pacts and free trade, but refuse to join what they view as a tyrannical structure. The inhabitants of Hearth IV focus mostly on developing their solar system. With the system is a massive series of shipyards and mining of the asteroid belt which results in a truly massive amount of production. Estimates indicate that this will increase the production in the Warden's domain by 50%, as a Tier 15 infrastructure is significant.
[] Ruoult – The Ruoult is an interesting Xenos race that is working to defend human colonies from another Xeno race. Guilliman attempted negotiations but due to the actions of a few Ultramarines, the negotiations collapsed. Perhaps the Wardens could do something about this?
[] Velnias I – The Emperor has requested that Kesar take this planet within a year or two. Velnias I is a small rocky body with a breathable atmosphere, home to 53 million souls. On this feudal world, lies a warp rift kept active by large numbers of sacrifices. Information is currently sparse as the survey team immediately left to warn the Imperium. Currently, large numbers of daemons are present, and large-scale psyker rituals are beginning.
it had a soul yet it was not as great or bright as the little ones that walked the halls of its body It had no gender but was referred as she by the little ones so she was she. They had given her a name the day her heart-that-burned-like-stars that name was Vigilance the moment power thrummed through her existence alongside the chanting praises of the red draped ones. with the first flexing of her sensors to behold the planet-so-red enringed by the metal skin home that housed her brothers and sisters alongside the little solders that were being born or were dancing through the blackness in groups of many sizes she was soon given solders of her own to lead through the shifting impossibility to other worlds were her lances left molten ruin to enemy's strange and similar while her macro battery's left shattered husks.
Before arriving above a world so blue and cold were the armoured little ones she loved to watch met there parent tall and fair but the joy would end above a world in throes of rot and ruin. With her fury she smote the rotting wounds the hide in their bubbles while the Armoured little ones cleansed the rest. there was no joy to be had upon the little ones return as the fair farther to a place of metal making and carved names upon metal that she heard countless times from countless little ones. so she carved them into her memory so they will live on through her systems to remind her of her duty now and forever.
The Nalanda was built by original Sigillite Order in Valhalla during 20M. Its walls were decorated by a number of painters who were among the most highly regarded artists of that time period. Nalanda was further enhanced by the painting of the ceiling by Isandula Verona. Individually, some of Verona's paintings on the ceiling are among the most notable works of human art ever created. However, the turbulence of Age of Strife nearly destroyed those artworks, but thankfully it was rediscovered by 11th Primarch. Its most recent restoration had a profound effect on art lovers and historians, as colors and details that had not been seen for centuries are revealed. It has been claimed that as a result "Every book on Isandula Verona will have to be rewritten".
The preliminary experimentation for the modern restoration began just after the discovery of Nalanda. The restoration team comprised Gianluigi Colalucci, Maurizio Rossi, Piergiorgio Bonetti, and others who later became members of Sigillite Order. They took as their guidelines the Rules for restoration of works of art as established by Malcador Himself. An important part of the modern restoration procedure, as established by these rules, is the study and analysis of the artwork. Part of this was the recording of every stage of the restoration process. This was done by the photographer Euphrati Keeler.
The aims of the conservators were as follows:
· To study the frescoes progressively, to analyze any discoveries and utilize the appropriate technical responses.
· To record every step of the operation in archival reports, photographs, and film.
· To use only those procedures and materials which were simple, extensively tested, not harmful, and reversible.
· To repair cracks and structural damage that threatened the stability of the plaster.
· To remove oil and animal fat used to counteract salination of areas where water had leaked through.
· To remove crystalline accretions of salt that had whitened areas where water had leaked through.
· To conserve surfaces that were in danger of further deterioration because of bubbling, and flaking.
· To restore sympathetically those areas where deterioration of one sort or another had obliterated details and caused loss of integrity to the whole, for example, filling a bad crack and painting the plaster in a color matching the original.
Colalucci undertook a series of experiments to discover the right approach for the restoration of the frescoes of the Nalanda. The investigation began by testing small areas of the wall fresco, then restorers tried to expand their work from there. Because of the height of the ceiling and the inaccessibility of the ceiling frescoes, the precise nature of the damage and the problems that would be encountered by the restoration team could not be entirely foreseen until after the decision to restore was taken, and the scaffolding was in place. According to Colalucci, the continued scientific analysis and the response of the restorers to a particular problem was an ongoing part of the process, rather than the conservation team deciding on a single treatment for every part of the building.
The team of restorers completed the first stage of the restoration, on the vertical surfaces and curved spandrels around the upper sections of the windows, from aluminum scaffolding projecting from just below the lunettes and using the same holes in the wall that had been made for Verona's scaffold. When they moved to the ceiling, they likewise employed a system similar to Verona's, which involved cantilevering a shelf outwards from the scaffolding to support a stepped and arched platform. The advantages of modern lightweight materials meant that the platform could be wheeled, facilitating easy movement along the length of the building.
The first stage of the physical restoration was to re-attach any areas of the plaster surface (which was approximately 5 mm thick) that were in danger of separating and breaking away. This was done by injecting a polyvinylacetate resin. Earlier bronze braces that had been used to stabilize surfaces were removed in those places where they were causing cracking, and the holes filled. Pigments that appeared to be not well adhered were consolidated with the application of diluted acrylic resin.
The restorers washed the surfaces using a variety of solvents. Distilled water was used wherever possible to remove soot and dissolve water-soluble gums. Dust and filth were removed with a gelatinous solvent, applied in several stages for measured times, and washed with distilled water. Salt efflorescences of calcium carbonate were treated by the application of a solution of dimethylformamide. The final step was the application of a weak solution of acrylic polymer to consolidate and protect the surface, and further washing. Where necessary some areas were retouched in watercolor, to integrate the pictorial material. These areas are distinctively textured with vertical brushstrokes, not visible from a distance but easily discernible as restoration work when viewed close up.
Previously, the Nalanda's only ventilation was from its windows in the upper level of the walls. To prevent exhaust fumes and wind-blown pollutants from entering, the windows are now permanently closed and an air conditioning system has been installed. The air conditioning varies not only the heat but also the relative humidity between the summer and winter months so that changes to the atmospheric environment occur gradually. The air near the ceiling is kept at a temperate level, while the air in the lower section of the building is cooler and circulates more rapidly, with the effect that dirt particles fall towards the floor rather than being streamed upwards. Bacteria and chemical pollutants are filtered out.
When the restoration of the Nalanda was announced, it sparked a barrage of queries and objections from art historians around the Imperium. One of the most vocal of these critics was James Beck, who issued repeated warnings about the possibility of damage to Verona's work from the over-strenuous restoration. As the work was progressively completed, there were those who were delighted; Malcador spoke an inaugural homily after each stage.
After the completion of the wall frescoes, he said: "It would be difficult to find a more eloquent visual commentary on Human history than the Nalanda, whose full splendor we can enjoy today thanks to the recently completed restoration. Our joy is shared by the faithful throughout the Imperium, who not only cherish this place because of the masterpieces, it contains, but also for the role it plays in the Human History."
The Eternal Wardens are the pride of Valhalla IV, the beacon of resolve and strength against the corrupting forces of cultists and daemons alike. And in spite of them far above the limits of humanity, they retain the iron-wrought bond between family - - certainly the influence of their Primarch. And although they were weathered by tragedy after tragedy, the Legion had always risen through those adversities and pushed on - - not for survival, but for those they cherish.
But not all heroes are the esteemed Astartes.
Among the thousands of Serfs in service on the Vigilance, one man stands above them all was the Legion's Master of Training. Enter Harsha, Lord of the Empty Palm. As is the XI Primarch, Harsha also hailed from the frigid glaciers of Valhalla IV. Born decades before Kesar's arrival, the Serf among the monks who served the monasteries across the planet. But due his time in prayer was short-lived; as a Pariah, it was inevitable that Harsha would be eventually be exiled for his unnerving continence. Although he was accepted in the Daemon Hunter Organization, the former monk chose to eventually depart when he was dissatisfied with the Lightless Form combat. Upon trekking onto the summits of the Arbuda Peaks, Harsha proceeds to forge his own martial path.
Rather than experimenting and develop multiple techniques, however, Harsha simply focused on a single technique: the Jina Palm Strikes. Originally an entry-level technique, Harsha spent decades shortening and refining that single technique into the absolute pinnacle of martial arts. Capable of unleashing explosive damage through acute positioning and force, Harsha had truly crafted an truly dangerous technique. Attested to have even killed daemons with a single strike, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to have called Harsha's style "The No Second Strike." Since then, Harsha had been the founder and sole user of the self-styled Hollow Palm Technique.
What truly cemented Harsha's name in Valhallan history was his successful undertaking of the Pilgrimage of Blades. An hallowed ritual for any warrior to travel across the monastery of each school and challenging their strongest practitioners to a duel. Within a span of five years, Harsha trekked through the wastelands of Valhalla and defeated every school of combat: from the Jina to the Chakravati, all had been defeated soundly within a single bout. This unprecedented achievement had crowned Harsha as Maharishi of Experience, and informally as Lord of the Empty Palm.
Years passed, and Harsha had been paying close scrutiny on the Primarch's activity in Valhalla. He watched as his Legion tried to improve the sorry state of the world, and had been making genuine progress... He watched as they were gradually subverted by wretched forces, and acted accordingly. It was then Harsha found potential when combating the Lost Ones. Their agility and strength were far above that of even the Demon Hunters, and would have been ended the master's life if not for the surviving Wardens coming to his rescue.
"And if this is only when powered by the cursed Hell-realm..." Harsha thought as he watched a Warden impaling a Lost One with his blade. "Perhaps the legion can truly benefit from my teachings."
And so Harsha made his presence known to the First Captain, and requested him to take in the Legion as his students. If he cannot best the Ruinous forces, then he will teach the Soverign's Soldiers to do it instead. Now a Serf under the XI Legion, Harsha often spends his days shaping the XI Astartes in terms of close quarter combat, where ranged weaponry isn't an option. Training without power armor, many legionnaires find themselves surprised at the elderly human's inhuman reaction speed and force matching their own - - leading to multiple beatdowns until they are considered "acceptable." From then on, the battle brothers will be pitted against one another, using familial competition and their matching strength to hone their skills even further.
And yes, this also included their Primarch... who proved to have mastered it in less than four months. As expected from the Sovereign's Son.
On another note, since the Sisters of Silence's arrival, Harsha has been seen conversing with their Knight Abyssal. Although, it is less "conversing" as it is "communicating with their fists;" when not shaping the Wardens into combat-ready condition, the Master of Training is prone to train against the Sisters if only they were fellow pariahs.
The tale of St George, a third-century Christian soldier who saved the daughter of a pagan king by slaying a dragon, first found popularity in medieval Europe. The artist Isandula Verona may have come across the story in the popular Italian collection of hagiographies, The Golden Legend.
According to Legend, Silene in Libya was plagued by a venom-spewing dragon dwelling in a nearby pond, poisoning the countryside. To prevent it from affecting the city itself, the people offered it two sheep daily, then a man and a sheep, and finally their children and youths, chosen by lottery. One time the lot fell on the king's daughter. The king offered all his gold and silver to have his daughter spared; the people refused. The daughter was sent out to the lake, dressed as a bride, to be fed to the dragon. Saint George by chance arrived at the spot. The princess tried to send him away, but he vowed to remain. The dragon emerged from the pond while they were conversing. Saint George made the Sign of the Cross and charged it on horseback, seriously wounding it with his lance. He then called to the princess to throw him her girdle (zona), and he put it around the dragon's neck. When she did so, the dragon followed the girl like a "meek beast" on a leash.
The princess and Saint George led the dragon back to the city of Silene, where it terrified the populace. Saint George offered to kill the dragon if they consented to become Christians and be baptized. Fifteen thousand men including the king of Silene converted to Christianity. George then killed the dragon, beheading it with his sword, and the body was carted out of the city on four ox-carts. The king built a church to the Blessed Virgin Mary and Saint George on the site where the dragon died and a spring flowed from its altar with water that cured all disease. Only the Latin version involves the saint striking the dragon with the spear, before killing it with the sword.
Isandula painted two versions of the St George myth, not for her own satisfaction. The earlier, less-accomplished version of this scene was commissioned by Church of Lighting Stone, while the later, better version was commissioned by The Sigillite Order. Curiously in both case Paintings lack the Princess who was one of the central figure in the Myth, rather in both painting Isandula focus solely on George and The dragon he vanquished.
Isandula's particular skill lay in depicting figures in a life-like manner, without having to rely on life models. As Fulgrim explains in The Story of Art, "just as Michelangelo was found to have reached the highest peak in the mastery of the human body, Isandula's was seen to have accomplished what the older generation had striven so hard to achieve: the perfect harmonious composition of freely moving figures." This harmony was the product of Isandula's imagination, not her careful observance. When asked once asked by an admirer where she had found a model of such beauty for her painting, she replied that she did not copy any specific model but rather followed 'a certain idea' she had formed in her mind. In so doing, Fulgrim explains, the artist "abandoned the faithful portrayal of nature which had been the ambition of so many Quattrocento artists."
When one of the Remembrancer asked Malcador about the Painting he mentioned "I doubt much if the whole story of Saint George is anything more than one of the many versions of the old-world story of the conflict between Light and Darkness, or Ra and Apepi, and Marduk and Tiamat, woven upon a few slender threads of historical fact. Tiamat, the scaly, winged, foul dragon, and Apepi the powerful enemy of the glorious Sungod were both destroyed and made to perish in the fire which he sent against them and their fiends: and Dadianus, also called the 'dragon', with his friends the sixty-nine governors was also destroyed by fire called down from heaven by the prayer of Saint George. It just a beautiful Painting but it lacks any hidden meaning"
According to Artist Serena d'Angelus in the painting, the Angels act as spectators who are watching the triumph of Mankind, and Saint George symbolize the triumph of good over evil as Saint George stares the beast down from literally "on high". To reiterate, Saint George's right foot prominently highlighted above the dragon signifies that the dragon (darkness, devil, evil) is in every way beneath Saint George and the light that envelops him symbolize his Authority. In opposition, the dragon's form, which very much resembles a serpent, rather than the typical lizard, or dinosaur-like depiction of dragons, an allegory to the classic tale of Adam and Eve, wherein Satan takes the form of a serpent. No one would have been so foolish as to ask where she had found so fiercesome a dragon, yet it was this figurative abandonment that allowed her to paint such fantastic scenes in such a lifelike manner and allowed her patrons to put such skill to practical use.
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Chronicles of Baldur: Aetus and its Fall | A Governor's Story
Chronicles of Baldur: Aetus and its Fall | A Governor's Story The road to hell is paved with good intentions
Naakal Isson had been the Governor of this world, much like his dearly departed father. He had listened and obeyed his parents when they told him an effective Governor was not one who ruled cruelly, but one who kept the people happy and safe. So, he had striven forth listening to the people, asking questions - learning about them. He was educated to the plight of the poor, the issues that still went on throughout Aetus. Ignoring it was not an option, so the man who would be Governor took to it upon himself to solve these issues. Small steps lead to damnation
Overtime Isson had grown into the ideology, looking to himself and others in power to ensure the populace's safety and happiness - believing that was of the utmost importance. Loyal to the Imperium his father had joined, Isson would do his best to make his people productive and safe. Betrayal from those he served, those he loved, those he raised up. Such is Chaos.
Yet here he stood, alone. Trapped in his very office as the world he'd once managed tore itself down around him. It didn't help that at the end of the day, Aetus's fall - it's ruin, it's rapture... all of it was his fault. Rubbing his face with his hands, Naakal lamented - he wept, not only for the Planet, but for those who would come to end it. What was a jewel, had been chipped, fractured, broken and in it's ugliness one could never again label it a jewel. Lament, weep, but realize not all is lost. Planets can be recovered. People can be saved. Remember this. How had it come to this, he wondered. The thoughts had been consuming him ever since his own body-guard, as small as it may have been had locked him up here. His people had been made happy. His people had been made safe. A Golden Age had dawned and it was one that promised brilliance on an untold level. And yet, it had all been gilded. Fools gold, he'd supposed - with him being the biggest fool of them all. All that glitters is not gold. Yet, a utopia had been made only to be undone
His fingers swept over his eyelids, swollen and puffy - sore from hours of tears. Though his office lacked a mirror, he was all the same undoubtedly sure his face was as swollen and red as the fruits he'd so dearly loved to eat. Letting out a heavy sigh, the Governor sunk further down against his desk. Tears birthed of utter sorrow, a man lost in a tempest of emotions. Stand tall! There is still work to be done.
Those awful chants still echoed in his ears, causing his head to throb in pain as he contemplated the death that awaited him. A pain seemingly indescribable swept over him, and the screams from the city carried to his office. It had begun, the fall of Aetus. Begun, the Clone Wars have... Er... The Fall has begun. Will you stand or will you cower? Save what you can or lose all?
Looking to the stained glass window merely furthered the tears as Isson stared upon the visage of the Emperor and his sons, the Primarchs. Each one's face had seemingly changed expressions, from the stern disposition that had been welcoming to an unpleased glare. The expressions seemed to further break his spirit as Isson started blubbering out words, promises, excuses - anything and everything. Growing louder and louder in nature as the once Governor moved from sadness to anger. Weakness, excuses. How natural. Do not blame others, accept what has taken place. Work against the tide, stand tall.
The emotions proved too much, and Naakal found himself falling to the floor. Tired and spent, the former ruler was lost. What could he do, but remain here awaiting the fate he knew was coming. There was no way out, not with his own Guards subverted. He could not communicate... Or could he? It is always darkest before the dawn. The sun is coming, usher it in.
Once long ago, back when the Imperium had first discovered the Planet his father had pushed for something. One of the sole concessions he'd pushed for, something that was not much overall in the way of things. Something that his father had stunned the Imperium by asking for, something that had led to his Father and him meeting a Primarch, one of the Emperor's sons. 11th of His Name, born to defend Humanity. He challenges you to stand tall and do what must be done. For those you cherish Where was it? Where had he put it? His father had never needed it, and Isson had never seen the importance of it till now. Standing up, the disgraced man tore apart his desk hoping to discover the key to salvation. Not in here. Not in this. Where did I put it? Groaning in frustration as it seemed like the only way to save the planet, to warn the Imperium was lost Nakaal slammed his hands down on the wooden desk, accidentally hitting a hidden button. Accidents, how luck may save us yet. But don't trust in it. For when you need it most, it may desert you.
The sound of gears shifting, and movement echoed through the room as the wall behind Nakaal began to open up. Behind it lay another room, one covered in a slight layer of dust yet all the same remaining as grand as his office. Sighing in relief, the Governor hurried into the room looking around for the device that would save the day. Your duty awaits, fulfill it.
As he searched, he came across papers detailing contingencies for all sorts of scenarios. Xeno Invaders, Rebellions, Orks, Abominable Intelligences, and even Warp Corruption. Snatching the papers, he stuffed them into his shirt. If he escaped this... these would be useful. Both to reclaim his planet, and to aid in reclaiming others. Maybe he would be known as the Governor who lost it all, but he would do his best to ensure what little remained could be saved. Survive, thrive. Resist and rouse, until your saviors come. Protect the Plans, and once saved share them. Others must not fall.
Aha, he'd found it. It'd been hidden in some random secret compartment of his mother's devising he'd bet. She might be dead, but that woman's puzzles still plagued him it seemed. No matter. He'd gotten it. And with that, the world. His world, may just be saved.
Looking at the device, he remembered his father's words. Once, for Charlie Contingency. Twice, for Beta Contingency. Three, for Alpha. Never four, unless all is lost and the world is truly gone to hell. Hell has broken loose, the seals must be put back in place. Call forth the Exorcist.
I'm sorry Father, he thought shaking his head. But I've doomed our family, and this world. May the Imperium and the people of this planet forgive me for what I'm about to do. Opening the device up, he placed his thumb upon the biometric lock and spoke. And the galaxy listened, while unknown Gods froze. For all their might and power, they'd forgotten that mortals might yet surprise them. A warning has been sent. Let them heed the call.
Far across the galaxy, on a snowy planet whose surface seemed to be an eternal war between the forces of man and the waprborne, a device began to beep. Aetus falls, its people seduced. If it becomes truly lost, the galaxy will dim
A Primarch looked up from their writings on the cultists. Savior, Exorcist, Daemon-Bane... the 11th Primarch shall answer the call.
