Maybe. But with the previous Gods dead, it could be that the various Warp powers don't have the juice to be the memetic threats that they were in 40k. As such people can be told about them in the 'they are horrible monsters that you must kill on sight etc etc' sense instead of the 'Civvie/guardsman hears about Chaos, it's BLAM time'.
The Warp is a strange place--a realm of possibility where thought becomes action becomes idea becomes thought again. Really, it's just a right proper mess through and through in which nothing makes sense.
Once there were great Powers within it--fell behemoths that laid claim to each and every idea within for their own aggrandizment, clashing back and forth in futile wars while delighting in the suffering caused in the mayhem. With their eradication at the end of the prior Age, the Warp has balkanized into warring fiefdoms--the Daemon Princes that once followed their godly masters enduring by weight of the legend they carved into the material realm each seeking to replace their progenitor--all while failing to understand that each of their number bore the same fundamental flaws that crippled their former lords.
In all this time, many minor gods would rise--galvanized by the thoughts and prayers of their creators, only the be snuffed out in turn as they ran afoul of one of the great powers of the mortal realms. Others would gain some transient advantage and make a play for the Thrones of Heaven--and ultimately cast down as the other powers would unite as one and devour the offender in a feast, restoring equilibrium as is right and proper.
The immense booth, made of wood from Holy Terra itself, stood locked and shuttered within the chapel of the Cruiser. The smell of incense hung in the air, though the censers had long been doused.
"In the name of the Emperor, God, Man, and Father. Hear me Chaplain, for I have sinned. It has been 343 years since my last confession. That ends today. "
Sergeant Cassander of the Azure Dragoons, on their way to the Agri-world of Equinox in the Western Segmentum Pacificus to fight off what was reported to be a host of resurgent Chaos daemons. More information was not forthcoming, until they dropped out of the warp closer to the planet, so the Cruiser had come loaded for most possibilities.
"What are your sins, Battle-Brother?"
"Seven times I have dreamt as we approach this world, and I believe it to be prophecy true. As the Emperor said, to prophesy, even unwitting, is to invite the Enemy's Deception."
Chaplain Priam, from his side of the confessional, silently breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the Emperor, it was something important. If he had to hear another guilty musing on how soft St. Celestina's hands must have been and how nice they would have been to hold...
"Speak thy prophecy, and I will determine if the knowledge was worth thy sin, Brother."
"I dreamt I saw a field of green. A garden, bordered by wild forest, in the midst of Spring. A young maid planted a fruit to fill her aching belly, and thorns to ward off beasts. As the season turned, the beasts came, and were impaled upon the thorns. The harvest came, and the Maiden's hunger was sated. Freely she shared it with her family.
Cassander spoke without breath now, the prognostication vibrating in the still air.
"But the thorns pricked the Father as he sought to take the fruit for himself, and he cast her out. 'If you will not plant the way I taught you,' he said in his greed and fury, 'then you have rejected my teachings, and my authority. And so I reject you.' But the Maiden had only sought to be faithful, and so she continued to plant, Fruit and Thorn together."
The chaplain took his notes silently, interpreting and extrapolating on known signs and symbols. A Garden grown of Faith was surely the Imperium, and the Thorns perhaps the Astartes. But who then was the Father?
As her garden grew ever larger, the Father was enraged. How dare this slip of a girl reject him so? To chastise her, he went deep into her garden. But the Fruit and the Thorns had a wisdom of their own, and they knew his intent. The Thorns rose up to bar the Father's path, growing long and wicked. The Fruit shrank from him when he sought to eat, wilting before his sight. To keep from losing the Garden to the Maiden's Thorns, the Father drew his sword and sought to cut it away. And as he began his swing, I awoke."
Looking over his analysis, Priam... puzzled. The pieces he had did not fit together. The Father acts to preserve the Garden, but if the Garden was the Imperium, then the Maiden that planted it would be the Emperor. So the one acting to preserve the Imperium is opposing the Emperor? Unthinkable. Any combination he could conceive of did not fit with all the other pieces of the tale.
"One thing is clear, brother- your prophecy is near, and its results stand upon the edge of a knife. For prognostication to end as yours did, means that beyond the relevant point, facts are uncertain. Thus it has been among the prophecies of others. But the rest is difficult to comprehend- perhaps we are missing some contextualizing information. For now, recite 100 Litanies of the Purged Xeno, and a dozen Hymns of the Scourge, and tell me immediately if you dream further."
"My thanks, Chaplain."
The door to the confessional opened and shut, leaving Priam to his thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place, right in front of his face.
AN: Thought I'd just drop some foreshadowing on the Dragoons. The idea is that if you know any of the truth of events, the prophecy's meaning is much more apparent. But if you're operating under the core, incontrovertible assumptions that are standard issue in the Imperium, its incomprehensible.
AN: Thought I'd just drop some foreshadowing on the Dragoons. The idea is that if you know any of the truth of events, the prophecy's meaning is much more apparent. But if you're operating under the core, incontrovertible assumptions that are standard issue in the Imperium, its incomprehensible.
One thing I'd mention, but if they're expecting to be facing Chaos, well, Garden suddenly ceases to be all that difficult a metaphor to understand, as that's well within Nurgle's themes.
Then again, the lack of entropy/disease would throw you off a bit since that's even closer.
Ya know, I kind of want to see omakes on how the other gods are doing through out the galaxy. I wonder what domains they currently have and what their current doctrines are. I'm also debating on whether or not to write an GEOM omake and whether or not to write him as maximum douche or broken man trapped in the idol/god.
Ya know, I kind of want to see omakes on how the other gods are doing through out the galaxy. I wonder what domains they currently have and what their current doctrines are. I'm also debating on whether or not to write an GEOM omake and whether or not to write him as maximum douche or broken man trapped in the idol/god.
[ ] You are the Azure Magus, inheritor of Tzeentch and master of Fate. You are a reclusive and wise practitioner of a form of lore that few like to admit exists, and never pass up a chance to remind others of your wisdom. You will awaken in response to a supplicant seeking a prophecy. Your Associated Spheres may be selected from a list including Sorcery, Knowledge, Space, Secrets, Cunning, and Time. Your Restricted Sphere will be Artifice.
A figure wrapped in the night sky, curled up on a cloud. You couldn't make out much of their features, save for the ruler that they were currently measuring the dimensions of the burgeoning Leviathan with.
"Nyehehehehe…" They chuckle as you creep up on them. "This is good stuff here, good stuff… Needs to be at least this good if it's spooked the fuzz…" The ruler shifts, and becomes a pen with a notebook. "Got to take notes… Sea monsters have psi-active bones…" They scribble it down. "It'll be great to loot this place once the marines are done… how am I gonna get here first though…"
She's older than we are, so she might be higher Scale than we are, but I'd guess all four of us are are going to progress more or less at the same pace at first. So my guess is that she's Scale 2 ATM and has Core Fate and Associated Artifice, Space, Knowledge, and Sorcery, the last of which is totally speculative, plus whatever she got for clearing her own Prologue and scaling up (which might have included domains not in the initial set).
Nah. Our plan is to prevent them from doing planetary bombardment and forcing them to drop pod onto the planet instead of making an uncontested landing at the Capital. Them being able to concentrate their force spells our doom, but with them split up and landing under hostile conditions, we have a chance to gang up on them with our Belladonnas.
In all this time, none saw the fragments drifting in the shallows of the Warp--wispy things, pieces of dead gods that didn't even have the decency to provide anything valuable to the scavenger-princes. They drifted through the galaxy, drinking deep of the thoughts and prayers of mortal folk.
Some sought protection, some thought good luck, some sought strength in battle, some merely wanted the courage to survive another day.
The shards grew--slowly at first--but with increasing speed as the weight of those praying for salvation grew heavier and heavier, the jagged shards folding together into a solid cores of power.
The first was lost--a gunmetal hand reaching into the depths and grasping a wide swath of potential, the first of these eggs being pulled in with it.
The second heard a prayer that could not be ignored--a desperate call for help from one who none could save. It recognized the peril it was to plunge into--to stand before ones with their backs to the wall as the execution began, but it would be against its nature to ignore it.
The Warp shuddered--and the third began to drift, caught on the eddies of power and pulled to the west.
'god emperor, i don't know what to do. the alien stands at our doorstep, but your servants demand their due. though this lowly one is undeserving, please send me a sign'
The prayers drifted to the heart of the galaxy--to the searing gold radiance that stood immutable and uncaring since the beginning of memory. It would not respond, it never could be bothered to do so save for the chosen few who caught its eye. But something else did hear.
The shell cracked, verdant light emerging in the unreality of the Warp--and a single hand, pure and untainted by the violence within it burst out.
We're the third fragment. The second one is the Scarlet Cavalier, who we knew awakened to defend the weak against an impossible threat. And the first is the Azure Magus, who was awakened under conditions that caused her to develop the Restricted Domain of Artifice: I assume the "supplicant seeking a prophecy" with a "gunmetal hand" was in fact the Adeptus Mechanicus.
This also mirrors the order in which the original Four were born: in the first post of the thread, Tzeentch is born first, then Khorne, then Nurgle, then much later Slaanesh. The corresponding new god was born in the same place in line: Azure Magus -> Scarlet Cavalier -> Us -> Violet Rogue.
The LotD are basically minor Warp Daemons but for the GEOM. They mostly show up at previously-doomed battles, which isn't quite what I'm envisioning. I'm thinking more a being that reflects the genuinely positive (small and vanishing they may be) aspects of Big Goldy. Basically, what if Sanguinas and Vulkan merged into a Warp God Of Actual Human Decency.
We're the third fragment. The second one is the Scarlet Cavalier, who we knew awakened to defend the weak against an impossible threat. And the first is the Azure Magus, who was awakened under conditions that caused her to develop the Restricted Domain of Artifice: I assume the "supplicant seeking a prophecy" with a "gunmetal hand" was in fact the Adeptus Mechanicus.
This also mirrors the order in which the original Four were born: in the first post of the thread, Tzeentch is born first, then Khorne, then Nurgle, then much later Slaanesh. The corresponding new god was born in the same place in line: Azure Magus -> Scarlet Cavalier -> Us -> Violet Rogue.
The fact that she was able to scry on us from a distance implies to me that she probably has Space and either Knowledge or Secrets.
She's older than we are, so she might be higher Scale than we are, but I'd guess all four of us are are going to progress more or less at the same pace at first. So my guess is that she's Scale 2 ATM and has Core Fate and Associated Artifice, Space, Knowledge, and Sorcery, the last of which is totally speculative, plus whatever she got for clearing her own Prologue and scaling up (which might have included domains not in the initial set).
Given her initial starting conditions (EDIT: WHOOPS DISCORD SPOILERS), I imagine she picked either Secrets or Cunning as one of her initial three secondary Domains so EDIT: SPOILERS, and Knowledge so she could offer something tempting enough to subvert the tech-priests around her.
The looting she hopes for looks to be psionic bio-tech, which could be covered by Artifice or Sorcery if she stretches them a bit, but it could also be a sign that she picked up a domain related to theft/learning/reverse-engineering in her first scope-up.
Given her uncertainty how to get here, I think it's unlikely she has both Space and Sorcery - it seems logical that if she had both, she'd be able to combine those domains to create a sorcerous portal or ritual for crossing space. Since none of her other domains make her followers better in a fight (and because the Mystery Cult that chuuni was bound to go for would expect it), she probably picked Sorcery. Given her appearance thematics, I imagine Space is to her what Earth is to us - she's had to pass it up in favor of pressing needs or shinies, but it's at the top of her "must grab" list.
I'm guessing her initial loadout was Fate (core), Artiface (no limits), Sorcery (chuuni), Secrets or Cunning (EDIT: SPOILERS), and Knowledge (tech-priest subversion), with her scope-up pick being a shiny enough shiny for her to pass over Space.
The LotD are basically minor Warp Daemons but for the GEOM. They mostly show up at previously-doomed battles, which isn't quite what I'm envisioning. I'm thinking more a being that reflects the genuinely positive (small and vanishing they may be) aspects of Big Goldy. Basically, what if Sanguinas and Vulkan merged into a Warp God Of Actual Human Decency.
There is the Star Child from old lore. Of course, that's from the 3rd and 4th edition, which might as well be a different continuity at this point.
On the other hand, Valdor: Birth of the Imperium did note that the Emperor's humanity is slowly fading for some reason that isn't outright stated, so a version of the Star Child might be floating around somewhere.
There is the Star Child from old lore. Of course, that's from the 3rd and 4th edition, which might as well be a different continuity at this point.
On the other hand, Valdor: Birth of the Imperium did note that the Emperor's humanity is slowly fading for some reason that isn't outright stated, so a version of the Star Child might be floating around somewhere.
Oooh, Dana is being a speech person again! You tune your attention to the tail end of her soapbox effort.
She hasn't changed too much since this all started--her hair's grown out a little bit and there's glimpses of dark-green visible at her hands and feet where her cassock doesn't cover, but the real change is a certain energy that she used to lack.
Conviction you think the word is--someone who doesn't like the world the way it is, and is resolved to changing it, with the ability to actually do so convincingly.
"But to surrender all that we have gained in these past years? To accept the yoke once more simply on loose promises that we will receive only five lashings instead of ten? That our lives are little more than lubricant for a machine that has lost its purpose? I say no!"
The crowd echoes her denial, pumping their arms in the air.
"Know that the Cult of Verdance marches to battle!" She raises her staff, bells jingling loudly in the motion. "We will not meekly let the machine claim our lives for the crime of refusing to die on its convenience!"
She turns her staff to the distant spire of Lambent--the golden elevator to the stars that dominates the horizon from any point in the Colonial territories--clouds pouring from its walls as the marginal world is steadily converted to a climactic and ecological equal to Terra of Old.
It has to do with the Colony Core from what they've told you in the past. A marvel from ancient times recovered sometime in M46, it contained a full genetic database of all known forms of Terran life and vast atmospheric and geographical manipulation engines. Simply drop it on a planet and watch it change to another version of Ancient Terra before your eyes!
The range wasn't unlimited of course, the change was most dramatic early on--but it steadily slowed as the range expanded. Equinox as a colony has only been settled with the modern techniques in the past century--so the radius is a 'Mere' two thousand kilometres--a relatively small portion of the word's overall area. The borders tended to be a hell of native life constantly being pushed out of their usual lands by hunters or simply bio-incompatibility.
It's not how you'd do it yourself, but it's also not something you can criticize--people do what they can to protect themselves, and the native life of Equinox are a toxic, murderous bunch that are just smart enough to kill a lot of people if given time, but dumb enough to be incapable of fear.
[Expanding Support: 24 + 10 (Dana): 34]
[Recruitment Dice: 3d12 (2d12 baseline, +1d12 partial success on support roll]
The operation begins that night, with an advance force of the Huntsmen--with one newcomer.
+You're taking too long+ The girl-witch's voice burst from the Heart-link. Hoo boy and wasn't that a bit of a shocker to deal with! Humans and other sophonts just do not get along nowadays, and even without that--bringing them into the Heart-link was always a trial--most just were always shouting and always feeling something. Little Niamh was the only one who could bring her 'Voice' down to just a loud bellow, and not fill the link with noise.
You'll have to do something about that when things settle down.
+We're just about finished our work here…+ One of the Bumblebees sent back, currently planting the last of the charges they had on the heavy bolter he was working on. The guards present were conscripts in newly printed out carapace, but seemed to be staring vacantly into space.
Niamh's staff was glowing with a brilliant light from your perspective, she must have thrown up some veil over their perspectives that prevented them from acknowledging anything other than a perfectly ordinary night.
She shakes her head, hugging her staff, the leathers and furs she wore a bit overly large for even her uncomfortably lithe form. +Not enough.+ Her voice roils across the link. +Will be too slow.+
She stares at the wall as the Huntsmen confirm their work was complete, and begin rappelling down. She raises her staff and Power begins to gather within it.
Great ropes of power are drawn from the area around you--and indeed a bit from you goodness how forward! To your eyes, she glows as a newborn star, her power rising, swelling--and driven down into the earth.
You feel a quivering in reality, and then… Nothing?
She seems satisfied though, resting her staff against her. +Better+ She shouts across the link.
What even happened there?
[A… Miracle? Niamh seemed to do something…]
You're tempted to look ahead, but… That'd ruin the surprise you think. So you turn your focus forward again--to the final meeting of the Chosen before the assault…
"We're as ready as we're going to be" Dana slumps into her chair. "Our agents in the city have been instructed to move the civilians to shelter."
"Along multiple routes?" Horatio questioned, cane fixed to the ground of the Moby Ark's command center. Everyone was in full kit such as the had it--the only one standing out was the Marshal in what looked to be a set of extremely well worn old carapace armor with an equally venerable rifle strapped to his back.
"Of course, we're concealing our specific route of approach as you suggested" Dana muttered. Layla was lying down on a couch, hat covering her face as she was taking a nap in preparation for the oncoming trials.
"Good" Horatio nodded, he looked at the mock-up of the Capital City that adorned the center of the chamber. "I will be frank, if we try to seize the city street by street--we will lose. The enemy has greater mobility, weapons capable of penetrating our toughest armor, and the desperation of men backed into a corner--a feeling that will grow stronger the longer the battle goes on."
"Which is why we need to make it fast, yes" Dana agrees. "We have… Eighty Flower Knights, plus the six who are helping Layla control the Moby Ark, That's enough for eight groups of ten. to distribute."
"You'll want at least half of them with you when you hit the Spire." Horatio cautions. "And a group securing the ship so it doesn't get overrun while we're busy."
"About what I thought--we'll have the Bumblebees screen our advance with the new grapple-launchers, and pair each Belladonna with two of the Sentinels to provide fire support." She looks up to the old marshal.
He nods. "Reasonable enough" He agrees, and Dana relaxes. "Good to know you'll have this in good hands."
"You're still not coming along, huh?" Dana asked, and he shook his head. "I've got a score or two to settle." He pats his rifle reassuringly. "My credentials should still be good to move around in the confusion. Shouldn't hurt your cause--and you've learned about all I have to teach at this point anyway."
"I see…" Dana sighs. "Just take care of yourself. It'd be a shame for us to lose you."
Horatio snorted, and reached for a lho-stick. "I did ask for twenty years, I've no intention of dying early."
… For all he says that.
You feel the connection you have with him snapping, as his remaining fate turns to a new cause.
The day dawns in a ray of bright colors and rainbows. A beautiful sight and one of the ones that made this planet so attractive to begin with. Something about an over-excitable magnetic field that's amplified by certain adjustments made to the terraforming engines. It's not really anything special to you but the people on the ground seem to like it.
But there's little time to admire the view.
The Moby Ark begins to build speed--you hear the prayers of your followers as they gird themselves for the trial ahead. Flower Knights mounting up and sealing themselves in place. Huntsmen and Sentinels working on their own little rituals to steel their minds for what comes next.
The power grows, swells, and you pay it back in spades. The Communal Heart-Link expands to encompass the entirety of the Cult's forces, linking everyone together instead of simply going in small groups. Your blessings steel their flesh and galvanize their blood, and many of them shudder, bodies tingling with the mass of divine power they were serving as avatars for as their symbiotes sink their thorns in deeper than ever. This contest would demand everything they could offer and then some.
Dana herself was sitting before her own Belladonna, identical to the rest save for the replica of her signature staff in place of the lance. Staring into the opened control cavity.
"This is really happening, isn't it?" She asks--and you spare the attention to spin off an instance of yourself to pat her on the shoulder.
"You did the best you could" You reassure her. "The perfect path is unknowable, we can only do what seems right day by day."
"Hmm" She nods. "I really don't want to do this, you know?"
"I know" You frown. "But we can't bind the thoughts of men--they have to be willing to choose their own paths, for better or for worse."
"That never stopped Chaos, did it?" Dana asks, and you frown. "They were… It's difficult to describe."
"Try" Dana asks, and you screw up your brow and Try
"Know that I was not a thing at that point" You caution."That which made me up was locked up, consumed--as with all powers that could rise in those dark times. There were four Great Powers in the warp that claimed between them all thoughts, all impulses, and sought to subordinate them to their own whims."
You really don't like thinking about this kind of thing.
"Everything that emerged was devoured--these Four were a cancer upon the heart of reality itself, they would countenance no rivals, no dissenting opinions. So Gods didn't get to exist until the Four were broken. Every time a mortal comes to their attention, they too were devoured." You shake your head. "But that's no way for a God to be--Gods exist to help imperfect people make sense of an imperfect world--but that requires allowing people to decide that they don't want anything to do with you. To do otherwise--to demand faith is to seek one's own ruin--because we can't understand what it means to be limited in the way you are."
"Why does that matter though?" Dana asks, and you reach deeper for an answer.
"Because we're not people--even if we can do a good job of pretending otherwise. We're stories--and a story that gets told the same way over and over again is a dead one, even if the body is still moving." You grimace. "This is a really uncomfortable topic."
"Same thing over and over again, huh…" Dana pauses, and stares up at her Belladonna. "It's not really any different here, is it?"
She lifts herself up into the cavity, spinning around to face you as she drops into the saddle,
"Thanks, I think I've got my answer." She smiles, and the Belladonna seals up. You release the instance of yourself after giving a little wave good-bye, and turn your attention to the greater scope of the battlefield.
The Communal Heart-Link is your vessel here, the mass of your people enough to support your presence without fear. Your image steps up on the head of the Moby Ark, and you feel the whispers as the people of your Cult gaze upon their God's avatar for the first time.
You turn, witnessed on five hundred eyes, and smile.
"Thank you all for supporting me all this time" You say, and they all hear you. "Please take care of yourselves and everyone else. I'll be with you all."
The first warning the defenders have of the oncoming tide was the noise.
The low-throated howl of a primordial beast unleashed, the warhorn demanded by a whimsical queen of the seas. Conscripts gather at the walls, and the defenses of Lambent are raised to their utmost, air crackling with ozone as Void Shields engage--brownouts within the outer city symbolizing the empowering of thousands of lascannons controlled by monotask servitors buried into the depths of the walls.
The walls of a Colony Capital in this day are a fortress. No rebellion, no revolution, and no incursion could overcome them. Against even the hordes of the fearsome Tyranids, it could hold for years until reinforcements could sweep the ever-present devourer from their world.
Spyglasses are withdrawn from officers observing from the Spire, seeking the source of the noise. They find it.
A crocodillian monstrosity, flippers held low where they scraped the ground, a trail of dust left in the beast's wake. It had a length of five hundred meters, a height of one hundred, and was glad in black carapace and iridescent shell. Veins of brilliant Green pulsed across its hulking form, and its body swelled with untold vitality in spite of its engineered frame. It bore an unstoppable momentum, barreling at increasing speeds. A manic woman-child stood at an artfully carved wooden deck within the nerve-center of the beast, lines of blazingGreen light binding her to the great stone edifice in the back, six other women nestled in the networked control pods that--in concert--controlled the Leviathan.
"FULL SPEED AND DAMN THE PLATES!" She cackled as the wall erupted in light. Most shots missed--at this speed and range, even a leviathan is a tricky target to get a bead on. But many hit, blasts of coherent light tearing through the body of the monsters, gouging spikes off of the shell. The defenders grew bolder at this--what an intoxicating lunacy! That these heretics sought to charge a wall with a single monster! Many laughed, and the range was found as a second volley was aimed.
But some of the sharper eyed among them noticed the wounds closing--once hardened mechanical structures liquefying--components rearranging themselves in a facsimile of the undamaged state. They hardened--and the wounds were restored.
"Fire faster then!" Came the orders, and the bombardment continued as the Leviathan loomed larger in sight, blocking out the rising sun at their backs. The rain of light intensifies, but the Moby Ark is undeterred.
+BRACE FOR IMPACT!+ Layla's voice echoes over the Heart-Link, understanding projected to all peoples of the Cult of Verdance through the Goddess' blessing. The Moby Ark's warhorn screeched out a final challenge--and jet boosters ignited from hidden vents along the backside of its shell. Its speed accelerated beyond all safety mechanisms, and the flippers rose up, their support no longer needed to steer. At this range, the accuracy of the walls was at the point where a constant rain of fire was bombarding the beast--but it persevered still, damaged components sublimating into Vitae before reforming in their undamaged state. Earthshaker shells from emplaced Basilisks landed and send splinters flying across the landscape, but even these mighty shells were insufficient to daunt the Landship.
Then the fires started--as though awakened by that barrage, great vines erupted from carefully concealed charges, binding and strangling the artillery pieces they were attached to. They shined with magmatic heat, and the mechanisms were warped--melted--rendered inert.
There was an opening in the defensive envelope, and the Moby Ark finally had a clear approach.
"AHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAH!" Layla Screamed as titanic monstrosity met adamantium bulwark--and the wall crumbled to dust. "AHAHhhhaahahuh?" She was dumbfounded as the Moby Ark sailed through the fortification--momentum unchallenged as it roared into the city, glittering dust left in its wake. She looked back where they came from. "No, seriously, what the fuck?" she asked.
Back in the camp, an alien child smiled--this was faster.
The Leviathan--unfit for the thin streets of a city, nonetheless had a key advantage--the way was clear with the residents evacuated the night before, and the thoroughfares were wide enough that the beast was only tearing through Victory Plaza, momentum being sapped away as it ground against rockcrete road, grav-plates chipped off as it crashed through groundcars and lightposts, and it steadily tumbled to the ground, momentum spent.
But what a charge.
+Saved us some time I suppose! Ladies and Gentlemen, we have arrived at the party!+
Cartridges are locked into Blasters, Reapers are tested, Thundercasters are checked.
+Evvverrybody off!+
Bulkheads fold open, and teams of biomechanical horrors emerge from the depths of the Moby Ark. They moved in eerie silence, pouring out with great discipline. The lithe forms of the Huntsmen fired great hooks into the rooftops and faded from sight, the hulking forms of the Belladonnas strode gracefully out from the Landship, each sporting a pair of brawny hulks hanging on with a free hand, their others bearing great shields of enchanted shell as they surveyed the field for threats.
Already, response was on the way--guncutters began to pour from the Spire, descending on the beached Leviathan. The sight of mobilizing soldiers on the walls behind are daunting--and from the inner walls could be seen a new bastion rapidly activating itself.
+Brothers and Sisters! We march!+ The voice of the High Priestess echoed through the Heart-Link. The Cult of Verdance marched to battle.
Led by the Flower Knights, the spearhead of the Cult stomped forward--grace of movement belied by the sheer weight of their steps. Each biomechanical cradle heavier than a Terminator, and bearer of unthinkable strength and vitality. Even these lesser manifestation of their God's will glowed with an eerie radiance--and they strode with no fear into the killzone.
Jump troopers deployed from the upper walls, landing on the roofs of the path, setting up long-guns to pepper the Spear with suppressive fire, only to meet cloaked troopers, their bows split into a pair of two shock-prods. Battles were waged on the rooftoops as Huntsman clashed with Auxilla once more--this time with the former on the attack. One fell, then ten, then a hundred. By the time the leaders gave the recall order--the Cult of Verdance's approach was secure. none would flank them so easily.
The armored fist of the Governor met the Cult of Verdance on the street. Barricades blocking approach while permitting the tank force surety against the devilspawn attacking. A full Armored Regiment of Leman Russ Battle Tanks defended the capital city--and on this approach stood a Company of them--with more on the way back. The Belladonnas joined battle with them--and the tanks found themselves stymied as the biosuits fought back with projected plasma streams, boiling through glacis armor and igniting engines. Their main guns spoke a litany of hate, as high explosive shells rained into the mass of Belladonnas. Shrapnel burst out and flames licked at the mighty war machines--but the blessings of the Verdant Maiden would not be so easily denied, the metal fragments pushed out as plant-matter seethed like a living thing, rejecting the foreign bodies and mending the wounds in real time. Sunfire Launchers fired, their payloads landing among tank hulls, burning out many as their lesser top armor provided paper-thin protection. The survivors fled, content in joining with their kin to punish the traitors--but upon this rejoining, found the situation changed. Armored and shielded infantry, rooted into the ground below, supported by volunteers among the Flower Knights who favored anti-armor weaponry.
The rain of sunfire that fell upon the approaching tank forces discouraged them from trying again so soon.
With the armored regiment bypassed, the next line of defense was the inner wall--designed as a final layer of defense to those who would lay siege to the Spire, it lacked the same height as the outer walls--indeed, the point of the outer walls was to funnel attackers into the outer city, where they could be bogged down and stuck between a rock and a hard place. The technical sophistication of these defenses could be imagined though--serving to bar the way of the commons, these were simple murder-spirits animating a variety of terrible weapons to punish any who would seek to bring the rich and mighty to account for their deeds.
To surmount this obstacle would require sustained force and pressure, to suppress the defensive foxholes long enough to tear down the gates, and the Cult had left their Sentinels to guard their approach.
Fortunately, they had a backup.
+Special Delivery!+ Layla's voice howled over the Heart-link as the attackers looked up. Lobbed from the Moby Ark was a special shell, launched from the one Basilisk the Cult had managed to capture. The payload was special, and they had only one shot of it.
But one shot containing a Lotus Star Reactor set to go critical was enough.
The energies within the flower went critical as the blossom was incinerated by the shell's detonation, the small star in its heart no longer contained in the secret ward. It expanded to great size, enveloping the inner gate in a torrent of blue-white radiance.
When it faded, it was as though a divine scoop had been taken out of the checkpoint. The defenses? The wall? The murder-spirits? All gone.
The Cult advanced.
The speed of the assault was uncanny--each and every defense had been subverted by the silent soldiers of the heretic god. The officers in the command center were in a near panic.
"We can't stop them!" One screamed, scrambling for his gun. "God-Emperor preserve us!" He put the barrel into his mouth and pulled the trigger, light flashing out of his eyes as he slumped, dead.
"Get that coward out of my sight" Grand Marshal Victor Castellan waved his hand, turning around as the two remaining Majors quickly moving to drag their former peer somewhere out of the way. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at the city below. The Spire stood strong yet, even if the enemy had created a breach into the inner city.
It would be some time before they could arrive, time enough to turn the tables.
They had prepared much of the Outer City with plasma charges, especially along the paths that the peasants had fled from. Oh, this cult may have been clever enough to fool the Arbites--but this was not Castellan's first run in with this kind of foe. Simply eliminating all of the avenues of approach will disrupt any hope of reinforcements, and permit firepower to be concentrated on the transport. Break that down, and the rest of the battle is a matter of encircling the cult spearhead and tearing it down.
Simple, logical.
"Just as you like it"
That voice…
Castellan went for his sidearm and spun, a pulse of blue-white force screaming across the room, slamming into the shoulder of the stranger. He was met in turn with three pulses to the chest--two splashing off of his refractor field, and the third doubling him over as the impact and burn left him wheezing for breath.
"Victor Castellan, I should have known it was you all along." The voice spoke, as an ancient figure stepped from the shadows, his shoulder still smoking from where he deflected the plasma bolt. "That kind of numbers game has always been where you lived."
"Bah!" The Marshal spat, climbing to his feet and bringing his sidearm back up--only to find Horatio Mills hurling up a chair and tossing it in the way of the bolt, following behind it and bringing the Marshal to the floor, his knife extended. A hum, and a power field flickered into being around it, dancing just at the edge of his throat.
"Yeah, me" Horatio said. "I was supposed to be retired, have a good farm, raise my kids, stick around until I was surrounded in grandkids. That was the way it was supposed to be." He tapped the knife against the marshal's throat, just enough for him to feel the buzz of the field. "Then some cocky chucklefuck decides to choke at the first sign of opposition and write off the poor bloody folks on the edge."
"They were expendable!" Castellan spat back. "As were you! You left us!" He accused with spittle flying out. "None of us were ready to take command! But you simply walked away like your responsibility was done! If you had been here…"
Horatio hesitated, and Victor saw his chance--fingers reaching around an ash-tray, he smashed it into the older man's face, sliding out from the power blade's grasp as he drove a knee up and into the elderly man. "If you had been here, Magistrix would still be alive!" Horatio staggered. "We would be at peace still! Not waiting as Chaos reaches for our souls!"
"Not Chaos" Horatio mumbled, curled up on the floor as Victor brings his pistol up.
"Oh poppycock, if it's not the God-Emperor, it's Chaos." He clicks back on the chamber, loading a new plasma shell. "Any last words, traitor?"
"Yeah" Horatio mutters, rolling over, revealing the blinking device in his hand. Victor's eyes widen and he reaches for it. "Checkmate"
The command center of the Spire flares white hot.
And with the death of the military leadership of the Auxilla--little remains to bar the Cult of Verdance.
The Spire doors hold for a time--the last of the loyalists, supported by as many Tarantula Turrets as they could assemble have prepared a final stand. But the remaining Belladonnas have built up too much momentum by now, too much mass after every major obstacle that could have slowed them crumbled.
Dana's staff struck the gates a final time, and the Spire swung open, the audience chamber emptied.
Save for one figure, sitting on the throne.
Governor Magistrix had seen better days, he had lost weight, his eyes bore the signs of a man who has gone many a day without sleep. The Belladonnas fan out into the room, weapons drawn but not yet firing.
There is no bodyguard.
Dana stepped forward, her Belladonna kneeling as the control cavity opened, she dismounted, the binding roots snapping out as she stepped out of the biosuit, and she looked her father in the eye.
"Heh" He scoffed. "Here to taunt me with the rewards of your treachery?" He shook his head.
"I'm here to talk Father" Dana snapped back.
"Like hell you are" He gathered his strength. "At every turn, you built up your forces, expanded your influence. Only when you had enough strength to crush the colony did you begin to act overtly." He laughed. "What makes you any different from any other monster laying siege of Mankind?"
"The people are happy!" Dana shot back. "Satisfied! They don't need to fear having their lives or livelihoods stripped from them on the whim of a man in the skies! They don't need to fear monsters pulling them from their homes and skinning them alive!"
"Happiness and satisfaction?" he spits back. "What are those? Can you eat them? Do they ward off the enemies at the gate? No!" His anger spills out. "To give those is to work harder than any man alive, I watched Father break himself on that wheel, only to be greeted with calls for even more." He stood up, his mantle flowing. "No, the purpose of a Colony of His Majesty's Imperium is to serve mankind, not something as trivial as wealth, or happiness, or satisfaction. And most certainly not for some daemon harlot's cause!"
He turns to face… You
And he sneers--his hand draws a pistol, and levels it in your direction.
"The Emperor Protects!" He screams, and fires a bullet that's hoo boy that's not good! Your power swells in response--but the bullet doesn't care, boiling a golden shade, it cuts through.
And tears through your Name.
[-5 Cohesion]
You slump back, injured but unbroken. He stares at you.
".... What are you?" he mumbles, Dana frantically looking between the two of you.
"... No…" He seems to realize something. "No no no no no no no!" He backs off, terrified. "We had won! This was to be our galaxy to claim! No… You won't have them!"
He turns his pistol--on himself. Dana screams.
"You won't have my soul, monster!"
He pulls the trigger.
With that, the battle for Lambent ends in tragedy.
[Secondary Objective: Reconcile Dana with her family -- FAILED]
This will be my final report
If you are receiving this transmission, then I have failed. The Cult of Verdance is not patronized by a mere Daemon Prince capable of twisting the minds of the people in service to their great War--but a true-born Chaos God in infancy.
I have prepared my final Auramite Banisher, and will arrange a confrontation. If my gamble is correct, then I will be able to draw the entity into a single place, where I can deliver a true death upon it and release my daughter and the people it has twisted.
But if I am wrong.
My reports should include propaganda sheets and tactics to combat the rising Cult's influence in more critical worlds. Though we failed to bait the Haruspex into striking again after its possession of the prior governor, at least the Azure Dragoons should be able to strangle this deity in the cradle before it can begin to exert its influence upon the Imperium at large.
I have ensured my family be sent to safety with Korian's ship, please ensure they are well cared for, I've lost one child and a father to this project, I would not have any others at risk.
May the Emperor have mercy on us all.
--Interrogator (ret.) Peter Magistrix
--Ordo Malleus
There is little time to grieve.
While members of the Cult continue to suppress any stragglers, the Weaver Sect moves into the Spire, accessing the full planetary defense systems--right in time to witness a burst of energy at the system's edge.
A single Strike Cruiser, burning for the inner system.
You have to finish this.
Ensure the Cult of Verdance is the dominant faith on Equinox (PRIMARY)
Achieve all goals with less than one million fatalities (SECONDARY)
You are a Scope 2 God
You currently have 5 Tokens of Favor
You have 3 Heroic Cultists, Dana is Temporarily Unavailable for assignment
You have a Rank 2 Cult, giving you 3 Manpower Tokens
You are at 95% Cohesion, you are not yet suffering penalties
Preaching Actions
[ ] Consolidating your grip (DC 40+)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection) You took Lambent in a clean assault, you should capitalize on it--you treat them better than they treated you... That's how it's supposed to be, right?
Infiltration Actions
[ ] Sorting the Mess (DC 50)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection, Harvest) Lambent is in your hands, and not a moment too soon. Sift through the city and see what might be useful for your cause.
Charity Actions
[ ] Reforge the Spire (DC 101)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Endurance, Harvest) The Spire is in your hands, and will serve a critical function in the days ahead. You're going to be using it as an amplifier or your power regardless... But wouldn't it be great if you could take it just a little bit further? See if you can really make the whole thing click. It'd take a miracle to make much headway though...
Kinetic Actions
[ ] The Azure Dragoons (MANDATORY ACTION, Minimum 2 Manpower)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: ALL) One more push, and you can all rest...