We Are the Gods of a New World Order [Warhammer 50K ~ Warp God Simulator]

Alectai · Jun 24, 2020

[X] Plan Welcome To The Mountains
-[X] Fast Reaction: You'll be outnumbered and fighting capable soldiers with armor that can resist your weapons and weapons that can hurt even your heaviest forces. More importantly, they have Chimeras, which add a nasty wrinkle in the matter. Your forces will however have time to set up and make suitable preparations for battle, which might limit the pain.
-[X] Communal Heart-Link (+1 Reliability)
-[X] Undying Heart Stance (+1 Toughness)
-[X] Scythe of the Maiden (+ Lifebane)

This was a tricky situation--you could let people who had accepted you into their community die in the flailing strikes of a man who is steadily losing control of the situation and doesn't understand how to compromise with reality so that you could ensure that your own people would be safe…

Because you trusted Horatio, his take on things is that the full strength of the Cult of Verdance should easily put the pin in a company of the Auxilla--though attacking the capital city and all the defenses with them manning the walls would be a fool's game.

But you can't get the full strength of the Cult there in time.

Which isn't to say you're lacking options of course.

"I think it would be best if I committed as much of my strength to this as I can" You declare, fan tapping against your image's chin as you lounged in the command room. "I will ensure the Heart-link can keep everyone coordinated, and empower our weapons and arms to ward off harm."

"It's a start" Horatio nodded. "Still going to be tight--they're not amateurs, but it should keep us from having to suffer any fatalities."

"But people are going to get fucked up" Layla adds, leaning back on her seat and putting her feet up on the table. "No getting around that."

"Agreed, we have some healers already present in Graycliff as part of our humanitarian efforts" Dana nodded, hands on the table as she studied the map. "How should we proceed if we send the Featherlight in?"

"Don't get suckered into trying to lay traps for them" Horatio immediately replied. "We don't have the materials to make good explosives, and they'll be screening their advance with Chimeras and the Leman Russ they'll have access to here. All it'll do is tip 'em off that we're in the area. We need to compel them to withdraw from the area and fall back to someplace that they can't cross the border again before the rest of our strength rolls in."

"It seems you have the matter in hand!" You smile, as all of this begins leaning into material you really can't wrap yourself around. "If you'll excuse me then, I must turn my attention forward--call on me again if you need me."

WIth that, you withdraw your attention from that moment, grinning privately at Layla's mutterings of 'Spooky God Lady'.

You spin yourself off into the future--glancing briefly at the Featherlight's departure with a team of the Knights aboard accompanied by some of the more skilled of the Huntsmen. The pleasure-yacht turned landship sailed across the grasslands of Goldsheaf, dustcloud left in its wake as the militant orders of your cult mingle for the first time since training.

Nothing untoward though! Well, nothing serious anyway, it seemed like everyone was just too nervous to consider doing anything you're far too embarassed to look into!

… Maybe just the fact you made their uniforms really hard to just slip out of in a moment of ill advised impulse, what with the thorns rooting inside and anchoring the symbiotes in place until they got back home where they'd be stored when not in use. Your machinations will lay undetected for years!

Content that this part of time isn't going to make you something all blushy to review later on, you turn your attention forward still. The Featherlight drifting into one of the trade hubs of the province to the blustering surprise of the locals--a quick explaination by loudspeaker though got everyone digging for their guns and sending the dependents to the caves in advance. They were certainly eager to join your advance…

But it wasn't really needed, the plan from what you can tell is going to be what's called a 'Rabbit Punch' apparently--what a silly name because rabbits can't punch things--a sudden shocking strike to something sensitive from out of nowhere as the attacker runs giggling away in the aftermath.

Turn the clock forward--and already you can feel the instance of yourself from later on concentrating her blessings here. The darkness of night, where shadows loom high and man is at their most guarded. Which was the point, because the first phase was to scare the overloving hell out of them.

+This actually kinda tickles!+ One of the girls giggled quietly in her Belladonna as the Chimera rolled past and over her.

+That's ridiculous, the Maiden never made these to transmit touch to us+ The leader of this formation sent back.

+No it's easy you just need to lean forward a bit in the saddle and smoosh yourself against the front, ticklish!+ Came the response from the overexcitable Knight.

+Hey, she's right!+ one of the other girls added as her own suit was rolled over. There's a sense of exasperation from the command link and an unmatched feeling of awkwardness from the Huntsmen who were part of the network for the first time getting their illusions shattered one by one.

Well, as long as it's not anything inappropriate.

+This is ridicul… Okay, there's the tank+ One of the senior Huntsmen tries to reassert some level of gravitas in the situation. +Down to business, everyone in position?+

The chatter stops, and the empathetic acknowledgements propagate throughout the Heart-link.

+You know the drill then ladies, let's put on a show for the Governor.+ came the thoughts of the knight-captain.

You step back from the heart-link to get a better view of the ambush site. The Belladonnas emerge from their hiding spots as the column advanced over them--literally buried into the dirt packed road the Third Company was advancing over. There's cries of 'Contact!' within the column and pulse-rifles are leveled forward.

But the ambush was a success--the four Belladonnas deployed their Reapers and lashed at the tank's treads, severing them with the force-reactive blades and leaping back. To their credit, the Auxilla concentrate their fire by the numbers, raining down plasma shards on your Knights with respectable accuracy--not that you needed to be a surgeon to hit a nearly twelve foot tall biomechanical construct that was danger-close. The Belladonnas made for the tree line, scorch marks building up while sap and fluid leaked from the battered suits, but they were into cover before enough burned through to threaten the riders.

Just in case though, you listen into the chatter… Yep! Just superficial damage, nothing that won't recover given time!

The Auxilla react as professionally as could be expected, setting up gunlines and circling the wagons (Chimeras you supposed), creating a fortified base to repel any subsequent attacks. When none seem to be coming, the hatch on the Leman Russ opens, and a much better dressed officer steps out, bellowing orders to the Company while calling out for repairs to be conducted.

+Phase two then boys, let's show the girls what we've been up to the past few months!+

The prior attack's purpose was to establish that the Belladonnas were still present, that you were capable of hiding them in the path--and to launch a bruising but not frightening blow in that opening gambit. Patrols go through the forests, but when nobody gets eaten by monsters and no further attacks come, people relax. Camp is made, people start leaving the vehicles, and while a very strong watch rotation is set in place, people seem to be relaxing.

When the bolt of witchfire hits the face of the enemy Captain, blowing him back five or six feet and leaving his face a smoking ruin even as the usual post-fatal twitching never happens, the Auxilla react with predictable discipline, tracing the attack back and opening fire. More bolts fire into the formation from the places your Huntsmen had secreted themselves, carefully targetting anyone who seemed to be organizing this mess, each going down in frankly horrible ways.

You might have been a little overzealous empowering their weapons for this…

The ambush is a success--oh sure you're overhearing the occasional curse as the multilasers on the Chimeras are manned and start pouring fire back into the woods, and you do sense the Huntsmen pulling back at that point.

You're a little worried actually--you listen up to their chatter…

Yuck.

Auxilla were really good shots, and the multilasers caught a couple out too… Nobody died of course, your blessings and their symbiotes ensured that much from the occasional hits that landed--but a good number of the Huntsmen had to be carried off the field by their partners, and would be a while on the mend before they could fight again.

Well, as long as nobody died or got hurt beyond your ability to fix--you guess you could call this a success?

[Engagement 1 Morale Shock: 72 vs DC 60]

The fact that the tank is abandoned and the Chimeras quickly loaded and turned around? Yeah! That seemed like it was a success! They lost their nerve to keep pushing in!

Some of your Huntsmen are left behind to tend the wounded, and the remainder catch lifts with the Flower Knights as they move in pursuit of the force, just to make sure that they were going far enough to not be a problem.

The fact that they just end up running back to a prefabbed fort with some mortars really sticks in your craw though. Apparently you were still doing this thing!

Your Huntsmen shift a ways, using their hooks to latch onto the back side of the Belladonnas, using them as mobile cover for your advance. There were a few inappropriate remarks across the Heart-link that came from this but you'll call it an acceptable outlet for the stressors of combat.

The Flower Knights charged the fort--lances raised and concealing the presence of the grappled Huntsmen behind them with their own mighty frames. Mortar fire from the fort landed in front of them, shockwaves and explosions rocking but not deterring your fist as they closed across the killing ground The damage wasn't entirely superficial this time, you hear a yelp of pain as a direct hit manages to penetrate the central cavity of one of the Belladonnas and send shrapnel into the rider within, it staggers in place--but by this time, the range has closed greatly, and the Huntsmen being shielded rose from their sisters-in-arms and fired a barrage at the artillery positions, dropping the soldiers manning them. The injured Knight recovers as the breach to her mount closes, and the charge regains its momentum, slamming into the gate just long enough for the Huntsmen to hurl satchel charges into the remaining Chimera tracks, detonating them and leaving the mechanized cavalry crippled.

Pulse fire began to rain out, a few stray shots managed to catch your Huntsmen and were rapidly ablating at your Knights before the call is made to fall back. Which they do--and without any mortars firing at full speed and the Huntsmen shifting over to the front of their 'Rides', the damage doesn't add up to anything worth nothing.

That should have been enough? That really better have been enough, because you can already tell most of your Huntsmen are walking wounded, and at least one of the Flower Knights is a bit lightheaded from blood loss--even if the serum she was suspended in closed the wound while her symbiote pulled the shrapnel out.

[Engagement 2 Morale Shock: 64 + 10 (Prior Successes): 74. DC 60]

It was enough.

The Auxilla abandon the fort and flee to the safety of Lambent Province, taking with them only what they could carry, between the damage done to their vehicles and the hit to their artillery.

In other words, even if they can be rallied at this point, they won't get here in time to do any real damage before the main force of the Cult arrives--and at that point, you're just throwing good money after bad.

Does this mean you won?

[Battle of Graycliff: Victory!]
[Casualties: 20 Huntsmen (Healed in 2 weeks), 1 Belladonna Rider (Healed by the next day)]
[Fatalities: None]
[+1 Favor from newly emboldened Followers for upcoming turn only]

The Cult of Verdance's forces arrive roughly on schedule, and when the Third Company returns with new vehicles and officers--having realized from the AAR that much of your infantry force was spent by the time you attacked the fort--they found themselves faced with the full strength of the Cult of Verdance.

And considering how even a tithe of it was enough to drive them off, not even the nastiest and most bloodthirsty replacement captain was going to throw good money in after bad--after all, the losses you already dealt to them? Not really a big deal, no real heroes went down.

In the end, the Governor wasn't willing to throw a Company away against a hard target and risk exposing an opening in the center of his power.

Which doesn't mean he's just going to take this lying down--but you should have time to work out an adequate solution before things all get out of hand!

So, yay! You win!

Now you just need to figure out what comes next...

Gain Control of the Planet of Equinox (PRIMARY)
Form a Military Force capable of holding the Planet of Equinox against aggressors (PRIMARY)
Form an Economic Base capable of supporting your people in the days to come (PRIMARY)
Ensure the Cult of Verdance is the dominant faith on Equinox (PRIMARY)
Help restore Dana's relationship with her family (SECONDARY)
Study the captured vessel (SECONDARY)
Gain Access to Space (SECONDARY)
Achieve all goals with less than one million fatalities (SECONDARY)

You are a Scope 2 God
You currently have 2 Tokens of Favor
You have 3 Heroic Cultists
You have a Rank 1 Cult, giving you 2 Manpower Tokens

Preaching Actions
[ ] Expanding Further (DC 20+)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
You've gone from a few hundred to more than a thousand people who believe in you! It's great! You should push this further!

[ ] Spread the Word (Variable DC)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
Most of your efforts are focused on Goldsheaf Province, you've got a pretty good idea of what's going on here and it's the foundation of your power base… But there's three more provinces on the planet, and you don't have any real influence over them. Maybe it's time to change that. The ranching province of Graycliff, the fishing province of Surf, and the capital province of Lambent. If you're going to conduct operations in those areas, you'll need to get the cult initiated there and reporting in.
-[ ] Lambent (DC 80)

Infiltration Actions
[ ] Anything else we miss? (Unknown DC)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection, Harvest)
The Flayers are gone, but that doesn't mean that every possible threat is off the table except internal ones, maybe see if you can get some of the woodsmen in your cult to take a look around past the settled regions of the planet and make sure there's no surprises waiting?

[ ] Into the Capital (DC 50)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
It's official, Lambent is pulling into a siege posture, pulling in their neighouring settlements before you can get your foot in the door. While penetrating the Spires themselves is probably beyond what you can do, you should be able to slip some agents inside in the confusion, who might be able to keep you up to date on how things are going.

Charity Actions
[ ] Planting the Seed (DC 60)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Harvest)
There's only a small handful of farms and ranches that you could say are completely held by your cultists, but that number's more than zero now! You've got plenty of people really eager to see what your teachings can pull out of the ground with a little work. You're going to need a lot of stuff to feed any possible refugees or other crises!

[ ] Quality of Life (DC 60)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving)
Sure this place isn't as bad as some imperial worlds can get from what you're pulling out of Dana's memories, but things could be better still. Apparently some of your initiates are interested in seeing if they can learn something from the techniques you used to form the Belladonnas, why not see if they can learn something else that can be spread around that isn't about breaking things?

[ ] Helping Others is helping yourself! (DC 50)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving)
You have the support of Graycliff--doubly so after your Cult's defense from a potential purge, but that doesn't mean things are going great for them. Spend some time and resources helping them get their herds back up to strength--you don't really like paying attention to the fine details at all but *surely* you can do something to help make this work? Or just delegate it to your followers you're not picky.

Kinetic Actions
[ ] Split Your Lungs With Blood and Thunder! (DC 70)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Death, Harvest)
Layla had a great idea, a capital one! "We've got some real whoppers out in the seas, flipping our ships and generally making a mess of things. Is there anything we can do about these? It'll be a real good show of force and help clean up the seas a bit!" You're more interested in securing some new assets--and the husk of a great beast brought down by your followers could have a lot of potential for you to reshape into something interesting

[ ] Building on what works (DC 75)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Death)
The Belladonnas are great, and your Flower Knights are doing surprisingly well at this whole 'Being a knightly order' thing. Still, just a lance and the Reapers doesn't seem like it'd be the best choice in the long run, especially when people start bringing guns with more firepower than old lasguns and hunting rifles. Maybe see if you can figure out some more tricks for them so they can play to their specialties?

Alectai · Jun 25, 2020

Your victory leads to a veritable tidal wave of support--it's one thing to talk big about protecting your neighbors in the face of a realm that would devour them at the slightest provocation (And at times, no provocation at all!) but it's another thing entirely to see a stolen hovercraft screaming into your hometown, pouring out a platoon of mysteriously cowled rangers and hulking sculptures of braided plant fiber moving with the grace of… Dancers would be a bit much you think, they're not quite at that point. But much more than you'd expect is the point.

Then they move off to the border, explosions and gunfire are heard, and the group march back with trophies of their victory. Victory against the Auxilla, the very instruments that see to it that the will of the Governor is done.

Oh sure, a cold blooded count would reveal that you didn't actually do much to impact their overall fighting ability. A crippled tank, a few transports, and a handful of mediocre junior officers? Very survivable from an institutional point of view. The point is that the Cult of Verdance stared down the instrument of Imperial Dominance and the Imperium Blinked First

That was no small thing.

So it's little surprise that the Cult of Verdance's numbers expand dramatically. First dozens, then hundreds, then thousands. Many throughout the Graycliff Clans in particular take up your banner--though it helps that you're not actually telling them to do anything they weren't inclined to do in the first place.

[Recruitment: 97 + 5 (Omake) - 2 (Limits): 100!]

[Cult Expansion: 12d12 (Base 3, + 3 (Previous Turn Actions) + 1 (Victory) + 5 (Recruitment Action): 72!]

Your power swells with the tide of new followers, your knowledge and eyes expanding to new heights. You're actually getting a little bit giddy about it! You've never been feeling this validated before! Everything was going wonderfully!

[Cult of Verdance rises to Cult 2, +1 Manpower, +1 Favor]

It wasn't all just aggressive expansion into new fields of thought though--Horatio took one look at the impending withdrawal of the Government forces into the Capital City and decided that this was a great time to get some actual penetration into that edifice. He grabbed a few volunteers, drilled them in what they needed to know, aided by your own attention to help ensure the points were absorbed by his scratch-trained students.

Then he sent them out to the capital, where they joined with the refugees streaming into Lambent with their goods.

[Into the Capital: 50 + 10 (Horatio) + 10 (Domain)]

It's pure textbook--Horatio babbled some nonsense about passive informers and sleeper cells that you didn't understand, but what you do understand is the prayers that were tailored to inform you of what the sneaky people found out, which you passed on to your burgeoning little council. Being unbound by time and space has its perks after all!

The reports seem fairly clear that this was a prepared maneuver--probably the plan that Governor Magistrix was going to execute in response to the Flayers in the first place. Pull back with all the food and valuable material they could, house a core of expertise in the outer rings of the city protected under the city's Void Shields and weapon emplacements, and let the Problems outside burn themselves out prior to reconquest. You suppose you should be flattered that he considers you to be a colony-destroying disaster?

Not that you understand why…

[Sleeper Cells successfully emplaced within outer rings of Lambent, they will be able to provide you with information on events occurring within the capital city that aren't being strongly concealed. After the gates are closed later on and the city enters lockdown, they maintain contact with a set of clever prayers that inform you that there's a message that needs to be sent. Then you just glance over where they are and move along!]

With that business sorted, your turn your attention a good stretch of time into the future, drifting in on a conversation between Dana and Layla.

"No, seriously, why aren't we doing more with this?" The pirate-princess shouted, gesturing back at an opened Belladonna. "Those stabby things let people control a big walking blender, don't hurt anybody and they don't transmit pain back? How is is that none of you have decided to expand on this?"

"Because just getting people willing to get in the saddle of one of those was a huge trial?" Dana deadpanned. "Most people don't want to get impaled with sharpened stakes and then apparently drowned in a bath of god-knows-what"

"Oh, I like to call it vitae!" You spin off a small instance of yourself on Layla's head, apparently emerging from a fold in her hat. "It's pretty much just some filtered magic that I send in once they're all buttoned up to help smooth over some of the inconvenient mortal problems that would be getting in the way."

"Why are you small?" Dana asks--you point a tiny version of your pipe and step up a foot onto the crest of the hat. "Because I'm multitasking! I'm handling the big battle right now and I've only got so much left over I can spare!

"... That was months ago" Dana states, the revelation sitting poorly with her even as your image puffs out her cheeks. "Don't talk to me about that linear time thing, I barely even get what it is." You pop the pipe in your mouth again and take a puff.

"heeeeee…" Layla gushes, but you tap down on your foot to reboot her brain. "So, what were you all talking about?"

"Something about how she wants to see if we can use the construction techniques and control system of the Belladonnas to bypass the Capital when our equipment starts to wear down." Dana explains while Layla grabs your doll-sized self from the hat and starts nuzzling it. You allow it, because taking care of the morale of your followers is also the responsibility of a god! But you still had work to do.

"I don't see why not?" You answer. "I don't understand what it is you need, but if you just need me to make some designs possible, I can do my best?"

"I imagine you would…" Dana's expression is unreadable to the human-centric perspective. "But I don't think we'd be able to convince many people to buy in with getting stabbed all over the place to use it."

You take a moment to think about it, and slip out from Layla's group, hovering in the middle and ignoring her disappointed cry. "Well, that depends… The Belladonnas in a way are the limit of what I can do with my current power as a god" You explain, disregarding the grasps at you by becoming intangible. You raise a finger and begin to lecture. "You wanted something that could fight undying machine beasts, and wouldn't cause any serious side effects to the one using it. The best solution I could come up with was using the Floraplate as the target of my blessings, but letting the 'Rider' benefit by ways of a close empathetic connection. They're so complex though that the only solution I could think of was emulating the pre-natal conditions of someone yet to be born, still dependent on their progenitor. Even then, I needed multiple direct bindings to ensure that the power could flow in a stable fashion."

Layla's cute-frenzy seemed to fade at your speech. "That's pretty clinical for you" She observes, her enthusiasm seeming to be dampened. You titter and switch to your fan. "I have doctors following me now! I got their terminology!"

"In other words…" Dana says, chewing over your explanation. "The Belladonnas are operated the way they are is because they're ultimately war engines, right?" You nod. "... Does that mean that a simpler device that doesn't need to be used for war won't require such an invasive binding."

"Certainly not! If you just need to move something and have it operate, one binding is more than enough! It doesn't even need to pierce in that case" You elaborate.

"... I think we need to talk about designs" Dana seemed to be getting eager about it. You wonder what all that's about?

So you skip forward, and oh my that's a big expansion. You never thought people would embrace your design quite so enthusiastically! Apparently just having a 'Cord' that adhered to the back of the head that gave the 'Binder' control of the device was something that legends were told about--a secret that only some Machine Cult held.

And here you were just handing it out as part of farming equipment and vehicles.

Oh sure, the devices that you made kind of had a smooth, rounded finish over the old blocky bricks that people liked using before this was a bit of an odd moment, but if your tractor is made out of beetle shell and bone while controlled with your will alone--while being entirely powered off of solar emissions and resistant to rust and decay…

Apparently this idea may have set off something of a revolution! Plus, not needing to go to to the capital to get refined fuel or have all repairs done give your little burgeoning rebellion total independence from the center.

Great!

[Quality of Life: 79 + 10 (Dana) + 10 (Layla) + 10 (Manpower) + 10 (Domain) - 9 (Limits): 110]
[A Miracle! Through the guidance of the Maiden, the craft of her Council and the great works of the Weaver Sect, the Cult of Verdance has acquired the technology of 'Crude Biomechanics' This permits civilian-grade light equipment to be manufactured with organic materials and on a scale capable of meeting the Colony's needs. Operated through an Elementary Heart-Link, handling is easy and reliable, and between solar energy consumption supplemented by minor psychic draw, fossil fuels are not required to operate such equipment!]

Needless to say, access to cheap, locally sourced equipment and vehicles was a big help when the Cult began its major philanthropic project--the restoration of Graycliff from the mauling it took from the Publicani's punitive strike, and the subsequent choking out that they experienced in the aftermath.

Ranching is hard work apparently! Shooting varmints that'll eat your stock, fighting the local wildlife who think the terran-derived domesticated species are delicious and weak. Then you have the sheer scale that's needed to absorb demand and you've got a big headache if you have to do all of that on foot. They made use of small trucks and bikes to get around in the past, but ever since the embargo that was placed on them in the wake of the Publicani's assault, most of those started running out of fuel or wearing out with the lack of maintenance.

[Helping Others: 65 + 10 (Dana): 75]

So when Dana rolls in with the Cult's recent discovery, combined with the residual Good Feelings from the Cult standing with them, and fond memories of the Good Old Days where the First Governor made his initial pact with the clansmen, they embrace the new equipment, putting it through their paces.

And the general call? "Good enough!" Which is good enough for you and good enough for everyone. This particular injustice at least seems to have been solved.

In fact, things seemed to be going pretty good in general! You had the capital province encircled, they had drawn in--the Cult was growing in power and you had shown your strength and that you couldn't be pushed around. You held all the cards it seemed and victory was only a matter of time.

This had all been a great set of plans that nothing could possibly turn the situation around now!

[A Governor's Desperation: 97 + 10 (Goldsheaf Lost) + 10 (Graycliff Lost) + 10 (Surf Lost) + 10 (Third Company Defeated) + 10 (Heretical Technology) + 10 (Shame): - 57 (Li…) ERROR: + 57 (NO): 157]

The scream bowls you over in the Warp--you turn your gaze to the source--a brilliant golden pillar erupting from the Spire. You would call it rapturous if it wasn't for the sobbing you could sense within. You are close enough to hear--how could you not, here so close to the source?

+FLASH FLASH FLASH
COLONY OF EQUINOX WEST RIMWARD PACIFICUS NEAR OVERRUN BY CHAOS FORCES
SEND IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE+

In the heart of the galaxy, something shifts--a pitiless stare illuminates the source of the cry, taking in all of the events that had been unfolding with the cold calculus of an immortal machine.

It sees you.

A bolt of radiance is cast from the abyss, slamming into the Spire with force akin to that which began this crisis.

+FLASH FLASH FLASH
HELP IS ON THE WAY
FIFTH COMPANY OF AZURE DRAGOONS EN ROUTE
THE EMPEROR PROTECTS+

Oh dear, this isn't what you expected at all.

----------------------------------------------------

"The lunatic used the 'Forlorn Contingency' " Horatio spat, when you had gathered the council together. "We squeezed him too tight, gave him no room to move--and now he's killed us all."

"Sorry, I don't know anything about some 'Forlorn Contingency' " Layla raises her hand. "But I do know what that's saying--the Azure Dragoons… Those are Space Marines, aren't they?"

"Most likely" Dana slumps in her seat. "Damn it Father, you didn't used to be this way."

"He has to know the price of using it." Horatio went for a lho-stick. "An emergency astropathic data-burst directly to Imperial Strategic Command, to be executed only in the event of a planet's irretrievable loss to hostile forces. It's meant as a response to a Tyrannic Incursion or imminent Exterminatus by hostile powers--to use it for anything less is grounds for the immediate execution of the ruling Dynasty and imposition of martial law until a replacement can be sorted out."

"Whoa, whoa" Layla raises her hands. "Isn't that a good thing? If we just lie low, he gets shot, they don't see anything wrong, and they leave assuming he was some arsehole who pushed the big red button because he panicked?"

"Not an option" Horatio lit his smoke and gestured to the head of the table.

"I'm still on the books as part of the Dynasty…" She whispered, and Layla winced at the revelation. "So they'll be coming after you, and they'll see all the stuff in the meantime, huh?"

"I'd call it checkmate honestly." Horatio breathed deeply, the lho-stick burning faster with the added oxygen, and tapped the ash out. "We've got no solution to a Battle Company dropping in on us. Only thing we've got that I'd say have rough parity are the Belladonnas, but that's only as long as the fight's in close quarters. On an open field? No contest, the girls'll get torn to bits."

"Can we just run into the woods then? Or the sea? I'm sure we can make some cool sea-bases if we put our minds to it!" Layla offered, but the Marshal shook his head. "Won't work, they won't take failure for an option--if they need to scour the planet to the bedrock to confirm the job was done? They'll do it, we don't have the ability to run away forever, and I don't think we can get the ship ready in time by now.."

"We can't" You shook your head as you spoke up for the first time. "Not in the time we have now."

"... Then there's only one chance." Dana whispered, and everyone turned their attention to her.

"We seize the Spire before the Azure Dragoons arrive." She whispered. "It's host to the planetary defense system. If we can seize it and offer it to the Maiden…" She looks to you with expectations. You frown, concealing it behind your fan after a moment.

"... One of the defenses was a Void Shield, correct?" You asked. Dana nodded. "It's not… Impossible for me to empower it to the point of resisting bombardment from most weapons."

"And their heavy transports can be stopped by the defense batteries" Horatio mused. "Which forces them to deploy by drop pod--they can't bring their heavy gear that way, and we might be able to split them up."

"And if we can get some way of moving everyone around fast…" Layla adds. "We can take them one group at a time with all of our strength."

"So, in the end, it's come to this" Dana melts into her chair. "We are only a colony of ten million, it would be easier for them to start the colony from scratch than it would be to ensure that they got all of us."

The High Priestess of the Cult of Verdance takes a deep breath, and steadies herself.

"So be it then Father, if this is the choice you've made, then let it be done."

[CRISIS]
--The Fifth Company of the Azure Dragoons is en-route to Equinox! Upon arrival, they will assuredly realize the Cult is patronized by a Warp Entity, and will wipe you out. In a straight fight, they will likely succeed regardless of your preparations.
--You have between 3 and 5 turns before they arrive. You must take the Capital Province of Lambent before their arrival, or you will surely be crushed under the full strength of a Battle Company given a safe beachhead to land their troops!
--Gather every resource you can, this will be the true test of your Cult's resilience!

Gain Control of the Planet of Equinox (PRIMARY)
Form a Military Force capable of holding the Planet of Equinox against aggressors (PRIMARY)
Form an Economic Base capable of supporting your people in the days to come (PRIMARY)
Ensure the Cult of Verdance is the dominant faith on Equinox (PRIMARY)
Help restore Dana's relationship with her family (SECONDARY)
Study the captured vessel (SECONDARY)
Gain Access to Space (SECONDARY)
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
You have a Rank 2 Cult, giving you 3 Manpower Tokens

Preaching Actions
[ ] Expanding Further (DC 40+)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
Oh my, you're actually a statistically noticeable percentage of the planet's populace! You should keep pushing and see who else you can entice in--the more the merrier after all!

[ ] Murmurs of Dissent (DC 60)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
Governor Magistrix has deployed the 'Forlorn Contingency', a scenario that will at best result in the careful screening of most of the surviving populace, and more likely will result in some Inquisitor rolling in and purging the survivors out of an abundance of caution. The people don't know about it yet--make sure they do, if you can even secure their non-involvement in the final Siege, you'll be golden.

Infiltration Actions
[ ] Anything else we miss? (Unknown DC)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection, Harvest)
The Flayers are gone, but that doesn't mean that every possible threat is off the table except internal ones, maybe see if you can get some of the woodsmen in your cult to take a look around past the settled regions of the planet and make sure there's no surprises waiting?

[ ] Sapping the Walls (DC 80)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
Taking the walls of Lambent is going to be a monstrously difficult task conventionally, if you can somehow introduce a few weaknesses though... It'll get a lot easier! This is risky for your agents though and might not have good gains.

Charity Actions
[ ] Planting the Seed (DC 60)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Harvest)
There's only a small handful of farms and ranches that you could say are completely held by your cultists, but that number's more than zero now! You've got plenty of people really eager to see what your teachings can pull out of the ground with a little work. You're going to need a lot of stuff to feed any possible refugees or other crises!

[ ] Explore the Flayer Vessel (DC ???)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Death, Harvest)
It's probably too late to get it to work, but there might be something you can learn by poking the big scary alien death chariot you've been sitting on for a while. Beggars can't be choosers and you'll admit to being pretty much a beggar right now!

[ ] Prepare for War (DC 50)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Connection, Harvest)
You will soon find yourself invaded by a foe beyond the strength of just about any living being. The collateral damage will be enormous even if everything goes right--and if anything goes wrong, it'll be catastrophic. Make sure that the noncombatants have someplace safe to take cover when the sky rains iron.

Kinetic Actions
[ ] Split Your Lungs With Blood and Thunder! (DC 70)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Death, Harvest)
Layla had a great idea, a capital one! "We've got some real whoppers out in the seas, flipping our ships and generally making a mess of things. Is there anything we can do about these? It'll be a real good show of force and help clean up the seas a bit!" You're more interested in securing some new assets--and the husk of a great beast brought down by your followers could have a lot of potential for you to reshape into something interesting

[ ] Building on what works (DC 75)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Death)
The Belladonnas are great, and your Flower Knights are doing surprisingly well at this whole 'Being a knightly order' thing. Still, just a lance and the Reapers doesn't seem like it'd be the best choice in the long run, especially when people start bringing guns with more firepower than old lasguns and hunting rifles. Maybe see if you can figure out some more tricks for them so they can play to their specialties?

[ ] Training the Troops: Vanguard Doctrine (Requires 1 Manpower + Horatio Mills) (DC 60)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Endurance, Weaving, Death)
The second option that Marshal Mills suggests is a 'Vanguard' Doctrine. Humans don't normally like getting stuck in for all that we've made a big point of doing it he says, mostly because everyone else in the galaxy is better at it mostly. Your blessings and what are derived from them change that calculus--with performance augmenting armor and some form of heavy duty ranged weapon, your soldiers can execute a slow, grinding advance while hosing down the targets with fire. This strategy will be vulnerable to supply shock, but extremely effective against anything that can't stand indefinitely under heavy pressure, like most human formations.

[ ] Training the Troops: Rifle Doctrine (Requires 1 Manpower + Horatio Mills) (DC 60)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Endurance, Harvest)
The final option Marshal Mills thinks could work would be a variation on the typical strategy employed by the Imperial Guard--an advancing gunline that doesn't do anything fancy, but just projects power steadily and reliably, with enough agility to pivot to changes if need be. Not exciting and does tend to fall apart if the enemy is too resistant to your weapons--but it's a well tested, reliable tactic that works against most enemies. The only thing you need to bring to the table is gear and blessings to augment this.

2 hour Moratorium

Alectai · Jun 26, 2020

[X] Plan The Plate-Spinning Act of DOOM!
-[X] Murmurs of Dissent (DC 60)
--[X] Heroic Unit: Dana (1 Use Left)
--[X] Domains: Connection
-[X] Planting the Seed (DC 60)
--[X] Heroic Unit: Dana (0 Uses Left)
--[X] Manpower Token (2 Uses Left)
-[X] Split Your Lungs With Blood and Thunder! (DC 70)
--[X] Heroic Unit: Layla (0 Uses Left)
--[X] Manpower Token (1 Use Left)
--[X] Domains: Weaving, Harvest
-[X] Building on what works (DC 75)
--[X] Heroic Unit: Horatio (0 Uses Left)
--[X] Manpower Token (0 Uses Left)
--[X] Domains: Weaving, Death

The revelation of incoming nigh-certain doom was troubling to your council, but in the end, life goes on--as is proper. The cult continues to expand at a ferocious rate, and your footing grows ever more solid--with any luck, it will continue to endure beyond this trial. You will admit to experiencing significant concern on this topic though. The Adeptus Astartes represent the apex of mortal might, every single one a tireless, nigh invincible engine forged to conquer a galaxy. They do not experience fear as most mortals do, they cannot be reasoned with when they have been called to battle.

Truthfully, you'd rather avoid coming into conflict with them--but you don't see how it can be avoided, your influence does not reach beyond the borders of the colony save for when your followers venture beyond it, by the time they were within your grasp, it would be too late to avert tragedy.

And so you turn your thoughts to war.

[Cult Recruitment: 1d12 (Base): 8. 13/100 to Cult 3]

"The first thing we've got to do" Horatio would mutter, staring at the great map of the Colony. "Is figure out how to crack that wall--ideally without blowing the thing up and killing everyone around it. If we can't do at least that much, anything else we think of is a joke in bad taste."

The first--and it could be argued most critical task in the scheme your Chosen (Yes, you think that's the proper term) have devised requires the Cult of Verdance to secure the capital city. This is a daunting task at the best of times--the prefabricated colony cores of modern settlements are fearsome things, citadels bristling with artillery batteries, sally points for defenders, and enough local manufacturing capacity to maintain a siege for years at need. Dana's Grandfather made a point of keeping the reserve supplies topped up, and her father maintained that tradition, which meant that you couldn't possibly hope they cracked before the Azure Dragoons could roll in.

In the end, two plans were devised, to be executed in parallel. To sap the walls from within--and to get a suitable battering ram to deliver the Cult's forces to battle.

The first of these is Dana's responsibility--she was born in Lambent, was raised there, and did no small amount of philanthropic work while growing up as a young and optimistic scion of a successful dynasty. With a little help from your previously inserted agents, you manage to slip her in.

It was a gamble of course--Dana's cassock was floofy enough that she could conceal her own raiment as a solution to stabs or small arms, but it wouldn't really help her against one of the Auxilla who recognized her and was actually informed that 'By the way the beloved third daughter needs to be shot on sight to save us all" So she was listened to when she got on the soapbox and spoke of the tale of the past little while--the ruinous taxes imposed on the frontier, the harsh punishments for those who cried foul. How the people of the frontier joined with each other to form a united front against the threats and dangers, putting their skills and talents together to protect their livelihoods.

And how in his fear, in his shame--he called upon the might of the Imperium to descend on their home, to burn it in fire because the people ceased worship of a God who never did a damn thing to protect them, in favor of one that was tirelessly supporting them.

[Murmurs of Dissent: 68 + 10 (Dana) + 10 (Connection): 88]

Her words do not go unheard--tales are told in the street corners where she spoke, whispers of press gangs grabbing up the young and healthy to put them on the walls. Of triple shifts being pushed forward to 'Prepare for the monsters'. Always pushed forward by armed men in great coats and featureless masks.

The once prosperous city of Lambent was slowly spiraling down the drain, people were exhausted--and none of it made sense. "Where were the signs?" Some whispered when they thought the political officers weren't listening. "Everything was good, and then everything was bad, shouldn't we have heard sooner?"

The fact that an uncomfortable number of those people are arrested on charges of sedition just proves the truth of Dana's words.

By the time the patrols track down where she speaks, she and the crowds are gone. Drifting from district to district, always a few steps ahead of pursuit.

By the time Dana has made her final speech--this time in a major square--the officers have had enough. Arbites sporting riot shields storm the square, hurling gas and laying about with shock mauls. "Unlawful Gathering!" They would spit. "Sedition and Treachery!" They cite.

Some are hurt, some even die--and the rest watch, listen--and the sound of angry men begins to fill the streets of Lambent.

[Success: Populace of the outer districts of the Capital have been informed of the approaching doom brought on by the government, questions are being asked, and the answers received are not encouraging. Loyalty of capital province to Magistrix regime is fading]

With her work in the Capital completed, Dana was spirited safely out of the capital, content to allow your agents already in place to control the dissent and provide aid to those harmed in the growing protests. The more aggressive activities of your Cult were well in hand courtesy of Horatio and Layla, and there was one further dagger pointed to the heart of the frontier-folk that needed to be cast down.

In the end, what the Cult of Verdance lacked was not tools--not since the breakthrough of recent days. It was not manpower--that was steadily coming in as more people benefited from the work of the Weaver and Mender Sects. What the Cult lacked was resources, and thanks to your control of most of the Colony's available landmass, there was ample room to work with. Especially with a friendly God riding shotgun and providing transcendent advice and the occasional miracle on command!

[Planting the Seed: 99 + 10 (Dana) + 10 (Manpower) - 19 (Limits): 100]

You are thrilled at what the Weaver Cult came up with in those brainstorm sessions. Oh sure, there were the obvious solutions like 'What can we do to get greater yield out of the same amount of land', which lead to all kinds of developments on similar lines of the Corntatoes. Like multi-staged grains that could be harvested multiple times a season! Fruits that were sweet and delicious while also serving as a decent source of other essential nutrients! The potential of minds unleashed to bring out the true potential of the land is a wonderful thing.

Where you were surprised though is where they went from there. Apparently some of your discussions with Dana about how the stuff you make actually works sunk in--and she asked you plenty of questions as to how 'Psychic' energies actually worked. You're not exactly the biggest scholar in the field, but what it boils down to is that 'Life creates ripples on the Immaterial Realm, and those ripples carry power with it' .

"So does it have to be humans who can store it?" She would ask you at the end of one session.

"Anything big enough and smart enough would do, they just waste it all because they don't think important things" You say, and she grins.

You skip ahead. Oh, that's what she meant. That's a really good idea! Cattle and other big animals aren't smart enough to use psychic energy, but they're big enough to attract it! If you just engineer their horns and hides to serve as a sink for those energies, you can create valuable, thought-reactive materials on a useful scale!

Not great quality admittedly, but it could serve as a valuable component in copying some of your own work! Plus, stuff like the horns don't really lose their ability to serve as storage either, and with a little carving you can turn them into useful batteries!

Surf's got a good aquaculture setup going on too, which gives extra variety and delicious foods from the sea--more importantly though, the new kind of kelp manufactured is an excellent Prometheum Precursor, and it burns clean and sweet.

Altogether, you don't see Equinox running into any problems in the future, even if Lambent turns out to be a total loss one way or another! They've got everything they need to keep standards of living up even if the Colony Core is broken and the Mechanicus Enclave flees. No more do your people need fear the spectre of being cut off from the greater body of the Imperium! They can stand on their own two feet forever if need be!

[Success: Between Crude Biomechanics and Psi-Active Ecosystem, Equinox is--in theory--capable of maintaining current quality of life and population even in the face of a total loss of all expertise in the Capital. Primary Objective Complete]

While all of this is going on, Layla goes fishing.

--------------------------------------------------------

"HAHAHAHA!" Your diminutive captain-princess laughs, currently standing in the Featherlight's Crow's Nest, hat held on with one hand while she holds a piece of the rigging with another. "There she blows! Target in sight!"

It's a ferociously stormy day, but the Finest Vessel on the Founder's Sea sails smoothly, gravity plates humming with power as it dips and bobs with the waves, always descending slowly enough to remain undamaged. In the distance was a breaching beast--a genuine Leviathan given form.

One of the draws of this planet apparently was the aquatic megafauna--good source of oils, meat, and apparently some aspects of the shells were considered valuable by agents of the Adeptus Terra. Hunting them though was always a heck of a trial--a great industry in the early days of the colony though! When civilians could strap lascannons and heavy bolters to their hull and meet these monsters in glorious naval combat!

Nowadays, that kind of thing is illegal, and the old sailors of the sea found themselves made illegal. So they shrugged, and just kept doing their own thing.

Right now, that 'Doing their own thing' is apparently complicating the hunt.

"Sorry Papa!" Layla spins around to face the pursuing fleet. "Still need your baby for a few more minutes!" She took her hat off and bowed using it. Cannons sounded and shells flew through the air, splashing down in and around the Featherlight, One actually lands into a porthole of all things!

+Agh! It's hot pink!+ One of the Knights inside complains over the Heart-Link. +I'm ruined! It smells like dead fish!+

+Pretty sure it is dead fish...+ Came the reply. Layla grinned at the challenge though. "Stern! Give Papa my reply!" She ordered, slamming her hat back on as the rear mortars fired off, arcing towards the approaching fleet with pinpoint accuracy before bursting in the air, dropping a blizzard of glitter down on the fleet. "Haha! That's how I want to see it done! Double grog for the stern gunners!" A cheer fills the deck, and Captain Layla Current whirls back to face the fore. The great beast was enraged by the noise--turning to face the approaching formation. A great dragon-turtley thing--except where the Terran strain was a shell wrapped around a funny lizard dude, this thing was an armored fortress, bristling with spines and with a sleek form capable of tearing through the seas with wild abandon despite its size and mass.

It was--in a word--perfect.

It used some of that vaunted speed accelerating, a great spiny island advancing to the Featherlight with disturbing speed. Layla watched it come with a growing smirk.

"Hard to Starboard!" She bellowed, and the crew obeyed, shifting the Featherlight to present its broadside to the advancing monster. "Girls! You're up!"

+It occurs to me to ask now…+ One of the Knights--apparently one of the more intellectual ones--muses. +Do Belladonnas float?+

+I guess we're about to find out! Launch!+

The broadside ports burst open, and the Flower Knights are launched at the beasts. Their customary lances replaced with a set of oversized harpoons which also fired on approach, burying into the Leviathan's head--a flicker of light reveals the chains connecting the harpoons to the wielders, and the Flower Knights descend in a wave of green (And one hot pink apparently, huh!) Crashing into the Leviathan with their Reapers already deploying.

"And there we have it!" Layla stretches out her arms and poses on the Crow's Nest. "The prize is mine!"

She turns back to the approaching fleet--now close enough that she can make out the figures aboard. "Remember this as the day you almost caught Captain Layla Current!" She boasts--and jumps off the crow's nest.

Not to die of course! Goodness! Her hand snaps out, and a thin wire unspools from a mechanism on her wrist, crossing the gap to latch onto one of the Belladonnas currently chopping at the moaning and quickly dying Leviathan, and pulling her in and over it. She turns back after landing with only a muffled +Hey!+ emerging from the Heart Link, and waves.

"Featherlight's yours again Papa!" She shouts as the Leviathan falls under your sway in death. "I've got a new ride in the works!"

[Split Your Lungs with Blood and Thunder!: 40 + 10 (Layla) + 10 (Warmaidens) + 20 (Domains) + 5 (Omake): 85]

This was one of the biggest jobs you've ever worked on! The Leviathan was huge when it was finally pulled to shore where the Weaver Sect had mobilized their forces. Layla continued to preen as she stood on the snout of the fallen beast, while the Flower Knights celebrated off to the side.

The best parts of the Leviathan were carved off by the teams that gathered, and served as a feast where Layla boasted about her deeds since signing on with the Cult, leading up to the defeat of a Leviathan without losses. Fun was had for all corners even as the rest of the carcass was stripped of what wasn't needed.

What you wanted was the shell and the bones.

The biggest bottleneck with your work is ultimately the skeleton. Biomass is hard to gather on the scale you need, and while your divine power lets you push the limits of what you can put together beyond what mortals would call sanity--you can't break the laws of physics without a corresponding price.

What you needed was a way to get the Cult into a fortified position safely, and that meant you needed to build big.

With the flesh stripped, you spend your power with abandon, using the Weaver Cult as your agents. As it was slain by your forces, so does its remains bend to your will. The skeleton is reshaped, psi-reactive bones twisting to form chambers and scaffolding, an internal circuit through which power can be channeled. Great dollops of plant matter are shipped in to the work site, woven and braided to serve as the hull material. The shell was reshaped to cover as much of the burgeoning vessel as possible--and where it could not be stretched further, salvaged plates of plasteel and adamantium are bolted on and covered to fill it out. The bottom of the structure was lined with all of the Grav-Plates the Cult could beg, borrow, or steal since the plan was hatched. "Nyehehehehe…"

"I don't have to get into some tight space and get some stuff jabbed in me if I want to move this, do I?" Layla asked. You popped a small manifestation of yourself in front of her gaze, hovering in place.

"Oh certainly not the same!" You happily explain. "We'll need at least forty-nine total binding points to provide full control of this"

Layla blanched at that. "You into bondage or something lady?"

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about!" You happily explain. Why's she talking silly stuff anyway, you'd need to distribute the load across seven people through a heart-link to achieve full control and stability of the construct.

You're sure she'll love it anyway! Especially when you can start strapping weapons to it!

[Success! Leviathan Landship unlocked for the Cult of Verdance--only one can be produced with current technology and equipment, but it serves as a heavy transport and linebreaker unit for your Cult's forces!]

The other main thrust of your military buildup--as opposed to your sneaky-sneaky one anyway--is a simple thing. Namely, the Belladonnas, currently the most complicated things you've made, virtually invincible to conventional attacks and capable of taking on just about anything in close combat.

'Close Combat' being the operative words--from what Horatio is telling you, you have a serious problem looming forward in the form of 'Jet powered supersoldiers capable of outrunning and outgunning anything that moves'

You… Don't see a path to matching that. So you have to fall back to the other prospect. "If you can't catch them, shoot them."

In other words, you need to figure out how to get the Belladonnas to shoot. You briefly consider a scaled up version of the Boltcasters you've already employed for the Huntsmen…

A few numbers run and yikes, enough drawn from the rider to power a shot is probably enough to stop their heart and shut down their blood flow. Not an option then, you need something a bit less fatal to the girls.

Hmmm…

[Building on what works: 79 +10 (Horatio), +10 (Weavers) + 20 (Domains) + 5 (Omake) - 4 (Limits): 120]

The answer? Plasma. Plasma is a funny thing that happens if you take something that burns and make it burn so hot that it starts turning kinda liquidy. Now normally you would be asking "Why would I possibly do that?" But people are forgetting that you're a god and plants draw power from the sun. It's just a little bit of work to find a good way to do it--but then you look at the little skirt that you built into them and realize that it's not doing anything special yet.

So now it's a conduit of stored solar energy, pulling in atmospheric gasses and exciting them with the power until they turn to plasma, from there, it's just a matter of channeling that force into integrated weapons, and presto! You can spit bolts of burning sunfire at your enemies at a distance and you get a neat light effect through the veins you've introduced where the power is drawn from the skirt-type solar collectors and transmitted to where it shoots stuff out--a set of raised sections on the 'Shoulders' where the plasma is transferred up to and fired on the targets. It even can switch from a little 'Pew pew!' to suppress targets to a 'FZHAP!' against something tougher!

Honestly, this alone would have been enough to call it done--but Horatio brought all kinds of ideas to this. "They've got hands don't they?" He pointed out, and they do. "Why not give some hand weapons that take advantage of this?"

So the Weaver Sect got involved, and you compared notes, and before you knew it you had two new hand weapons for the Belladonnas on top of the ones you already possessed! One that fires a big goopy blob of Plasma that holds together for a while and then lands in a bang, and one that shoots a whole lot out really fast.

Having the Sun--boiler of worlds--on your side is very reassuring in light of the recent troubles! You're glad you took up this project!

[Miracle! Belladonnas now include Sunfire Projectors as standard issue! Sunfire Launchers and Sunfire Blasters are added as specialist weapons which can replace the Lances!]

All together, it looks like--as much as you'd rather avoid it, you're going to be well prepared for the oncoming storm. You had a way to enter town, you had the populace of the outer city listening to you--and with any luck, you should be able to capture the inner city and the Spire before the Space Marines arrive.

Except…

You feel like you're missing something here…

You step back from time, looking everything over, what was nagging you so much…

Wait

You slide your perspective closer to Layla's expedition, while the first Leviathan was being worked on. What was that nasaly chuckle for? You pivot an instance of your attention behind the clouds, and there you have it.

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…"

They seem awfully distracted at the moment. You do the warpy equivalent of a cough--and it freezes like a deer caught in the middle of an oncoming train. It turns to face you, their blue cowl concealing a field of stars as it gazes you.

You gaze back

It locks its stare.

But you're not going to lose~~

"AHHHHH!!!!!" They point at you and scream, climbing up their cloud all the while. Is this the game? "Ahhhhhhhh!!!" You scream back, matching the gesture. It reaches into its pouch and starts throwing stuff at you. Gears, tools, and trinkets bounce off your face as it scurries away--diving into its cloak and fwooping out, now nowhere to be found.

You find yourself lost, surrounded in a pile of knickknacks, and holding a stray cog in one hand that had embedded itself in your head.

What was that about?

And what are you even supposed to do with this thing?

[Gained 1 Artifice Token, may be used instead of or in addition to Favor tokens on suitably tagged topics. Will disappear by next turn if unused]

Gain Control of the Planet of Equinox (PRIMARY)
Form a Military Force capable of holding the Planet of Equinox against aggressors (PRIMARY)
Ensure the Cult of Verdance is the dominant faith on Equinox (PRIMARY)
Help restore Dana's relationship with her family (SECONDARY)
Study the captured vessel (SECONDARY)
Gain Access to Space (SECONDARY)
Achieve all goals with less than one million fatalities (SECONDARY)

You are a Scope 2 God
You currently have 5 Tokens of Favor, additionally, you may invoke Artifice once this turn only
You have 3 Heroic Cultists
You have a Rank 2 Cult, giving you 3 Manpower Tokens

Preaching Actions
[ ] Expanding Further (DC 40+)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
Oh my, you're actually a statistically noticeable percentage of the planet's populace! You should keep pushing and see who else you can entice in--the more the merrier after all!

Infiltration Actions
[ ] Anything else we miss? (Unknown DC)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection, Harvest)
The Flayers are gone, but that doesn't mean that every possible threat is off the table except internal ones, maybe see if you can get some of the woodsmen in your cult to take a look around past the settled regions of the planet and make sure there's no surprises waiting?

[ ] Sapping the Walls (DC 65)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection, Artifice)
Taking the walls of Lambent is going to be a monstrously difficult task conventionally, if you can somehow introduce a few weaknesses though... It'll get a lot easier! This is risky for your agents though and might not have good gains.

Charity Actions

[ ] Explore the Flayer Vessel (DC ???)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Death, Harvest, Artifice)
It's probably too late to get it to work, but there might be something you can learn by poking the big scary alien death chariot you've been sitting on for a while. Beggars can't be choosers and you'll admit to being pretty much a beggar right now!

[ ] Prepare for War (DC 50)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Connection, Harvest)
You will soon find yourself invaded by a foe beyond the strength of just about any living being. The collateral damage will be enormous even if everything goes right--and if anything goes wrong, it'll be catastrophic. Make sure that the noncombatants have someplace safe to take cover when the sky rains iron.

Kinetic Actions

[ ] Training the Troops: Vanguard Doctrine (Requires 1 Manpower + Horatio Mills) (DC 60)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Endurance, Weaving, Death)
The second option that Marshal Mills suggests is a 'Vanguard' Doctrine. Humans don't normally like getting stuck in for all that we've made a big point of doing it he says, mostly because everyone else in the galaxy is better at it mostly. Your blessings and what are derived from them change that calculus--with performance augmenting armor and some form of heavy duty ranged weapon, your soldiers can execute a slow, grinding advance while hosing down the targets with fire. This strategy will be vulnerable to supply shock, but extremely effective against anything that can't stand indefinitely under heavy pressure, like most human formations.

[ ] Training the Troops: Rifle Doctrine (Requires 1 Manpower + Horatio Mills) (DC 60)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Endurance, Harvest)
The final option Marshal Mills thinks could work would be a variation on the typical strategy employed by the Imperial Guard--an advancing gunline that doesn't do anything fancy, but just projects power steadily and reliably, with enough agility to pivot to changes if need be. Not exciting and does tend to fall apart if the enemy is too resistant to your weapons--but it's a well tested, reliable tactic that works against most enemies. The only thing you need to bring to the table is gear and blessings to augment this.

[ ] Here we Stand (Requires 2 Manpower, Dana)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: ALL)
You are as prepared as you'll ever be, your people are at your back, and the city's defenses are reduced. Seize the final bastion of Imperial Control and prepare for the oncoming storm. Begins Decisive Battle: Lambent Spire

2 hour Moratorium

Alectai · Jun 27, 2020

[X] Plan Last Chance Before We Dance
-[X] Anything else we miss? (Unknown DC)
--[X] Manpower Token (2 left)
--[X] Domains: Connection (5 left)
-[X] Explore the Flayer Vessel (DC ???)
--[X] Heroic Unit: Dana (1 uses left)
--[X] Heroic Unit: Layla (0 uses left)
--[X] Domains: Harvest, Artifice (3 left)
-[X] Prepare for War (DC 50)
--[X] Heroic Unit: Dana (0 uses left)
--[X] Manpower Token (1 left)
-[X] Training the Troops: Vanguard Doctrine (Requires 1 Manpower + Horatio Mills) (DC 60)
--[X] Heroic Unit: Horatio (0 uses left)
--[X] Manpower Token (0 left)
--[X] Domains: Endurance, Weaving, Death (0 left)

Events were coming to a head, and the Cult's preparations continued apace. You had at least some limited support within Lambent itself--but what the Cult lacked was the force to punch through the outer city's defenses, land on the inner city's defenses and pierce that too--and then have enough impetus left over to seize the Spire and secure the Colony once and for all. While your initial impulse was to just take what you already had and just ram through the walls, Horatio overruled you.

"We don't have anything but militia to keep what we take" He explained during the meeting session where everyone decided what they were going to do. "Those'll fold like wet paper even against conscripts--as long as those conscripts have access to the best equipment. And since Governor Magistrix holds the Colony Core…"

"He can print off as many suits of armor and guns as he wants" Dana completed the thought. "So we'll need something to backstop our supporters."

"I've got an idea or two" Horatio nodded. "Going to need some help putting the gear together though."

"No problem! I've got lots of power to throw around right now!" You chime in, pumping your arms in what you think is encouraging--of course you don't really have any biceps to speak of, but it's the show of support that's the most important.

"We'll take the Moby Ark to the other ship"... Dana mused--you saw Layla just perk up at that. "Should let us salvage most of what's valuable in that wreck… I think some of the Knights have been wanting to run a 'Hunting Trip' too, I know we've been interested in taking a poke outside of the borders too--just to make sure we didn't miss a pack of Flayers or something. Should be pretty routine, so I'll give them the heads up."

You… Wonder if you should tell them how that goes here and now.

---------------------------------------------------------

With that thought, your attention shifts forward some time, following the small group of lights winking into view in the depths of the realm of thought. Gosh, this is honestly the first time you're just kind of sneaking into someone else's perspective without telling them you're doing it first.

Well, you weren't going to make an offer to this one yet.

You sink in, synchronizing your perspective with your follower.

She was busy being all thoughtful and philosophical actually--much more than you were expecting, though the vista standing before her was something to be thoughtful about, even if her thoughts were more focused internally than on what lay before them.

Riding a Belladonna was a surreal experience she found. Most people tended to get twitchy about the whole 'Jabbed full of roots' thing--even though the new suits helped her pretend that it was just some fancy hook-up and not actually burying a group of barbed tips into her spine repeatedly. What bothered her was the disconnect between herself and the Floraplate.

The use of the term 'Rider' instead of the more instinctual 'Pilot' for those who don these things was one of the first signs that they didn't behave like most would. A mount usually had a mind of its own, something that one needed to come to some accommodation with… A Belladonna didn't, the rider was the mind, the rider was the armor..

But she was also a girl, straddled over a molded, mossy saddle, legs gripped tightly by the openings which lead to the suit's legs, staring into a faintly bioluminescent surface a few inches from her face and wondering not for the first time what someone's supposed to do with their hands while all of this is going on.

Huh, now that you look at it from their perspective, that would be super annoying. You'll have to see if you can implement somewhere to put their hands in the future!

+Amelia, what are you even talking about?+ came one of the voices across the Heart-Link. +You're bothering the boys when you're thinking about what your legs and hands are doing!+

She snapped up to attention, cheeks flushing even in the darkness of the Belladonna, her hair floating in the vitae filling the chamber. +I just can't help it! It bugs me!+ she pouts, even as laughter fills the connection. She shifts her focus to the outside, where the group was advancing on a great tangle of metal, like two primordial beasts crashing into one another and devouring the other whole.

+I think we've found where the Clans came from…+ One of the more experienced Huntsmen--by now well acquainted to the kinds of nonsense that happens in the privacy of the Heart-link--it was a bold move! Getting everyone comfortably back on track!

+Didn't hear about some other ship from pops though…+ A thuggish echo filled the link, one of the newer Huntsmen if you weren't mistaken. +'Suppose it makes sense, something had to bring our boat down in the first place.+

+How long have you all been here anyway?+ Amelia asked, curiosity piqued by the story.

+We were supposed to be the first wave back in M51… Five-hundred years I suppose?+ The clansman guessed.

That's not so long.

+Pretty overgrown through…+ One of the other Huntsmen observed, stepping forward. +Almost too overgrown… You ever see anything like that other one?+

Doesn't ring a bell to you, so it makes sense that none of the others in the group understand either.

+No sense woolgathering then+ the Knight-Captain muses. +Let's move in, make sure this is secure, might be some good salvage in there if we're on the ball.+

You step your perspective back from Amelia, looking along the line of events. A few epic battles with the local wildlife, a grand climb through the ruins, delving in the discovery of a data-core filled with the ship logs, a brawl with the locals…

Wait, back up a tick.

You shift your perspective back towards the end, focusing back down on Amelia.

Who is currently yelping as a jagged spike bursts into her control cavity, narrowly missing her head. She takes a swipe at the offender, the lithe form letting go of its spear as it jumped backwards, grabbing onto an overhead bulkhead and swinging themselves up.

+Who are these guys?+ One of the Huntsmen asks. +They're fast as hell!+

+Probably the ones who brought the ship down in the first place!+ The Knight-Captain sent back, her Sunfire Projectors shining and spitting golden light at one of the ones attacking her--only to find them dodging the line of fire and slipping behind cover and out of sight. +Group up, back out! We're not to be starting any wars if they've got this kind of territory!+

You feel a quiver in the Realm of Souls where you stand--and turn your gaze to a shining beacon--thin, dark skinned, and waving about a whitewood staff. They spoke ancient runes of power, and stared down at the larger and more fearsome foes. Invaders! The thought echoed across the Immaterium. Murderers and bonepickers begone!

Ahhh.

Now you understand, now that you hear the cries. Goodness, this is a tragedy, isn't it.

You manifest before the caster--a child who yelps as she drops the staff--her Power lashes out--but you draw it into your hand instead of allowing it to sink into and destroy the caster. "None of that now child" You gaze upon the dusky youth--and you know them to be one now.

You… Their voice wobbles, and you kneel down and take them in hand and give them a nice big hug. "There there…" You pat them on the back. "Everything's going to be okay…"

... fat the voice murmurs--you freeze for a moment, and let your watery eyes be missed through the lack of perspective. You're not fat! You're perfectly healthy!

It's just that you have to appeal to more than the tastes of the Eldar!

Still, it hurts to be called that!

[Anything Else We Miss?: 99 + 10 (Domains): 109]

Once the word starts getting passed around, you and the Cult start to wrap your heads around the nature of the tragedy here, confirmed when someone can get over and pry out the ship logs from the recovered datacore. The original colony ship that was supposed to settle this planet got a little banged up in the Warp--fairly normal routine honestly--where things got dicey was the presence of a Corsair clan using this system as their anchorage. Troublemakers who couldn't find purpose within the Aeldari Dominion, they were often cast out, given a single ship and left to make their own way in the galaxy. Often, that involved murder and plunder, to slake the desire for stimulation. They grew and expanded, and things were good for a time, rising to the limits of what their ship could support--and so they were building a new one.

Then came the mon-keigh, like a virus. Their presence this close could not be tolerated. They traveled to the colony world, the secret arts of their people concealing them from view. They analyzed the defenses, determined that the transport ship was of no threat, and revealed themselves with a burst of laser fire preceding a pulsar blast that gouged the transport ship's guts out. They weaved around for another pass, aiming to score the kill--and suddenly found themselves surprised when cargo containers folded open, revealing armed and equipped gun ports. At close range? Against a full broadside? Even the vaunted agility of Aeldari raiders couldn't save them--their ship's spine shattered under the weight of the macrobatteries--their solar sails tore, and the ship went tumbling into the mortally wounded transport, pushing both out of orbit and careening into the ground below.

The ancestors of the Clansfolk gathered what could be easily salvaged, and fled for better pastures, taking the surviving livestock with them and fighting their way free of the terrors of the deep forest to find a promised land in the modern Graycliff Province. The Eldar died in the crash…

Or so they thought.

One of the mechanisms employed by Corsair clans is an elaborate vat-cloning mechanism. Utilizing randomized genetic sequences, it would produce a young Eldar every so often--these were kept in the creche, along with the handful of young children who were too youthful to master the trades needed to be considered an adult. Between the two of these, the survivors slowly grew, ferals who had only the strangest echoes of the society they had emerged from began to grow, scrabbling for sustenance in a hateful jungle, with bodies so strongly engineered that even a broken bone was even odds as to whether it would cause an infection and die or if it would ever heal again.

So they never really lived long, an eternal tribe of children passing on stories and tattered genetic memory, only knowing that losing their home would spell their doom.

It's just so sad! So sad even that you offered them a safe place to live inside the safety of your territory! Especially as there were great invaders on the way who would likely harm any they could.

Surprisingly enough, they were receptive to it! Mostly because you 'Smell good' or something! The chieftain even agrees to repay the debt by helping you and the cult! Better and better!

You'd help out anyway, but having a little witch in your camp can only make things easier!

[A Miracle! The mystery of the Clans' arrival has been solved! In the process of doing so, you discovered a small tribe of feral juvenile Eldar who were busy defending their home from scavengers who might seek to take their stuff. They seem to like you even if they sometimes say mean things! And they're just so cute! Who could possibly say a mean thing about them? You're just going to take them home with you and nobody can stop you!]

Heroic Cultist Recruited!
Niamh

Chieftain of the Exiles, a band of mostly feral Eldar children who were stranded here five hundred years ago, barely managing to maintain replacement rate population through a surviving vat-cloning device and extensive work. A Psyker of some small power (And thus why she was in charge).

Special Ability: Sagacious (Bonus on Preaching and Infiltration Actions)

The true ringleaders of the Verdant Cult are the Wicked Thorns Coven--a band of Eldar who have given their souls to the Dark Mother in exchange for power, immortality, and an eternity of thirsting slaughter. They march before the greater host of the Cult, using wicked enchantments and glamours to twist the minds of the unfaithful, and provide fertile soil for their slaves to entice more into this grand conspiracy. Their shrouded skin is the sign of their corruption, greater even then the Drukhari of old! Shun and abhor them, for they are the devil walking among you!
--Ordo Malleus Report

--------------------------------------------------------------

With that little mystery sorted out, you roll your attention back a little further, hopping over to Dana and Layla's adventure into the bones of the captured Flayer vessel--glowing still with a much nicer shade of green.

They were both in 'Uniform' so to speak--Dana her standard Flower Knight Regalia beneath her cassock--Layla had gotten something for her own role as well, a somewhat bulkier symbiote that traded off the usual strength enhancement for heavier cushioning (In case the ship gets jostled around) and a heavy ridge along the back--the seven bindings for her own mount integrated into her standard uniform (Because as she put it 'I'd rather be stuck full of spikes all the time then be stuck on a chair and unable to show off! Which is a bit silly but you'll allow it.)

"So, this is what the skellies came out of." Layla muses, looking up at the twisted crescent. "Bit too big for Moby to tow back to base I think…"

She look sup at her mount, the hulking leviathan at rest on the opposite side of the corner, Belladonnas marching towards the hull with equipment in hand for the dismantling.

"We're not here to loot the ship" Dana adds. "We're just here to see if there's anything we can make use of on it."

"Mechancius don't like people playing with Xenotech" Layla cautions, Dana shrugs. "I'm already an arch-traitor by common logic, what's one more heresy?" She wilts, but finds herself staggering forward as the tiny pirate smacks her on the back. "Hey now, none of that! Who else is going to pull in a reliable ditz of a god who's working harder than anyone else to make this stupid thing we're doing work?"

"I don't know what some of those words you say mean" You smile, watching Layla freak out as you manifest behind the two. "But thank you for the vote of confidence!"

"How are matters going in the other projects?" Dana asks, now used to your appearances. You shrug. "You're the second one I'm checking up on, the first one will be… Exciting I think when it happens."

"This isn't going to require us to rewrite the book again, is it?" Dana slumps. You take a moment to really think on it.

"It shouldn't!"

"That fills me with less confidence then it should" Dana deadpans, but you're onto new and better things!

"So! I've been poking at this during the occasional moments I can remember it exists." You explain, dodging the subject. "Now that everyone's here though, I can concentrate enough of me here to really see what I can pull out!"

You're just so eager to see if you can copy any of that metal!

You pour your full power into the alien structure--and it is magnificent, impossible alloys bonded with a weave that allows them to endure beyond all possible sanity. Normally this kind of thing collapses with any damage it takes--but like any living being, when hurt, it simply heals itself back to normal! You must be able to do something about this! And then there's the zappy lightning guns! You can do things with lightning too! This is just a veritable smorgasbord of things you can do and things you can learn and all you have to do is shove your face right inside and piece it all together and you'll have unlimited power!

You… Black out just a bit.

Which is really funny because even when you try to roll back on that section of events you just see a big huge null event signature, like you fell asleep or something!

[Exploring the Flayer Vessel: 81 + 10 (Dana) + 10 (Layla) + 20 (Domains) - 1 (Limits): 120]

You weren't idle during your nap though! You can already see all kinds of scribbles in your memory about means to imbue life into unliving material which'll be great when you need to build bigger and have stronger stuff to build out of! You even see some insights in how to direct electrical energy in ways that shouldn't be possible! Neat!

But your attention comes back when your image is standing before a giant lotus bulb the size of a small house with her arms raised in the air. She blinks.

"Behold?" Layla says, unimpressed despite looking like she'd been through a war

"Have you returned to your senses?" Dana asked, her cassock torn up by… Something?

"... I did something reckless, didn't I?" You try to recall what you were doing--and fail. You do recognize this thingie in front of you though!

On that thought, the bulb opens up, a gleaming ball of starfire suspended inside it. You stare at it, it's shiny!

"You were saying some nonsense about 'Ahhhh, they're full of stars' after you finished barging your way into the reactor chamber." Layla expained, voice uncharacteristically steady. "I… Don't think we can use this place anymore."

Goodness, what even happened?

"You were waving around some big cog like it was a revelation, then you tried to eat it" Dana seemed to catch onto your confusion. "After that… Well, it's best not to talk about it--you're not… Going to do something like that again, are you?"

You're quite certain you have no intention of doing so.

But… Uh.. "I did a thing!"

[A Miracle! While in a fey mood brought on by the deployment of the power that was thrown in your face, the Verdant Maiden was successful at extracting everything of value--as she understands value. Results on some projects are pending greater Scale, but a new power generation system--the 'Lotus Star Reactor' is now available for limited deployment, providing enormous supply of power to biomechanical constructs by way of a psychic energy tap designed to emulate a a star's power emissions. Can be scaled small enough to fit to a Belladonna, and large enough to support a Leviathan at your current strength, and the concept expands gracefully from there.]

The pustulent Witch is fond of deception, presenting a pretty face to lure prey into her clutches where she may feast on their souls for eternity. Where most of her workings are things of horror, the Lotus Star Blooms are admittedly a captivating sight--but do not be fooled! Contained within each of these treasured flowers is power enough to set a world ablaze, and a poisoned 'Gift' offered to those foolish enough to fall for her trickery. No further proof of this can be found then adorning the bodies of her mightiest beasts, where the dark power they contain pushes them to new heights, so they might better kill in the name of their Dark Mother.
--Ordo Malleus Report

After that, the rest of the plan almost feels like a let down. Dana commits herself to the cause of speaking to your supporters and their neighbours, advising them that danger is close, and that shelters are being prepared to ensure their safety.

Meanwhile, the Cult is actually busy digging holes in the ground as needed. It's hard work but it's great training for the newbie Flower Knights in how to control their Belladonnas precisely and to get used to the Heart-links.

[Prepare for War: 39 + 10 (Dana) + 10 (Healers): 59]

It goes according to plan, which is good because having a bunch of safety bunkers that people can retreat to--and enough doctors split between them to help deal with the occasional risk of disease or other outbreaks. Once things start getting dicey, everyone who isn't in a shelter risks just dying randomly for no reason.

And that's very much not something you'll allow if you can avoid it!

Admittedly, these aren't perfect fortresses either. Little more than panic rooms and shelters distributed throughout the provinces, big enough to hold the population of the farmsteads and other settlements, and big enough to expect to survive existing in the same place as a major battle. Against a dedicated campaign to root them out? No contest.

You can only hope that you present enough of a threat that they don't feel they need to indulge in such measures.

[Success! Shelters are completed and civilians drilled to take cover when Go Time happens, Collateral Damage Fatalities are sharply reduced!]

Everything's going the way it's supposed to be! The next crop of Flower Knights are getting the hang of their job, the Huntsmen are expanding as proper--and all that's left is to see how Horatio's task is working out!

You zip forward in time to see him standing before a group of brawny young men sporting shields and paint-guns, his arms folded behind his back. He looks them over, they match his gaze--he nods in a knowing fashion, and steps back.

"The game is dodgeball" He speaks, a dizzying array of old turrets rising from the landscape, peeking out from old buildings, laser-pointers aligning on the trainees. "You are to eliminate all positions while taking no injuries, before the turrets power down."

A whirring is heard, and the group of aspirants gather together in a circle, shields presented outwards. A bombardment of paintballs begins to rain down on them all.

"The game begins now."

[Training the Troops: Vanguard: 34 + 10 (Horatio) + 30 (Domains): 74]

Huh, no epic adventure there, you were kind of hoping for a repeat of the Bumblebee adventure, but hey--you can't look down on success! While the aspirants are being drilled in hardpoint tactics, defensive measures, and gunfire--you're busy communing with the Weaver Sect to provide their equipment!

The standard issue symbiote is a good start, the specific design for these fellows though is heavy on the muscle and protection tissue, giving them a hulking appearance compared to the more low-profile Huntsmen. Each suit is paired with a tower shield--good at smashing, good at protecting--and when dug in to take cover with it, it even shoots roots into the ground to stabilize its position and deploy a bracing platform for the Sunfire Blasters that you're making the standard issue! A rain of starfire combined with a peerless defense--the only real disadvantage is that they weren't quite big enough to include a generator for their Blaster, so they needed to use heavy magazines filled with the good stuff--and while they can certainly fit a whole bunch of them on, they use a whole bunch too. Shouldn't be an issue though as long as you can keep dropping replacements on them.

Their training completes without further incident, and you now have a rock that your people can rely on in the days ahead! The Verdant Sentinels! You'd bet on them in a lot of gambles!

[Success! The Verdant Sentinels have rolled out--heavy infantry with a focus on taking a position and holding it against all comers. Does have ammunition concerns that other units don't need to be concerned with, but you're sure this is a manageable problem for their strength!]

The Sentinels are the Verdant Cult's enforcers--hulking vat-grown monsters that march upon good folk. The clearest sign of the Witch's Neglish descent, these monstrosities are sturdy constructs that feel no pain, utilizing festering shields to repel the fire of good-hearted men of the Imperium, and a drooling maw that vomits a rain of burning plasma. A head on attack is rarely advised, high-angle artillery strikes however can break up their formation, making them a simple foe to bring low.
--Ordo Malleus Report

Overall, your final preparations have gone off without a hitch.

All that remains is to muster your forces--and hope you can pull this off.

Lambent Awaits.

[Cult Recruitment: 2d12: +5. 18/100 to Cult 3]

Gain Control of the Planet of Equinox (PRIMARY)
Ensure the Cult of Verdance is the dominant faith on Equinox (PRIMARY)
Help restore Dana's relationship with her family (SECONDARY)
Gain Access to Space (SECONDARY)
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 4 Heroic Cultists
You have a Rank 2 Cult, giving you 3 Manpower Tokens

Preaching Actions
[ ] Expanding Further (DC 40+)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
Oh my, you're actually a statistically noticeable percentage of the planet's populace! You should keep pushing and see who else you can entice in--the more the merrier after all!

Infiltration Actions

[ ] Sapping the Walls (DC 65)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection
Taking the walls of Lambent is going to be a monstrously difficult task conventionally, if you can somehow introduce a few weaknesses though... It'll get a lot easier! This is risky for your agents though and might not have good gains.

Charity Actions

None remain that can be conducted on short notice, the storm awaits

Kinetic Actions

[ ] Here we Stand (Requires 2 Manpower, Dana)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Available Domains: ALL)
You are as prepared as you'll ever be, your people are at your back, and the city's defenses are reduced. Seize the final bastion of Imperial Control and prepare for the oncoming storm. Begins Decisive Battle: Lambent Spire

2 hour Moratorium

Alectai · Jun 28, 2020

"We did not start this conflict!"

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.

[Sapping the Walls: 86 + 10 (Niamh) + 10 (Connection) + 5 (Omake) - 1 (Limit): 110]

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.

[Horatio Mills has renounced the Cult]

--------------------------------------------------------------

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."

And Life is unleashed.

------------------------------------------------------------

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 blazing Green 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...

2 hour Moratorium

Alectai · Jun 29, 2020

The aftermath of the battle is… Well, aftermathy.

You're still pretty sore where that guy shot at you, but review of your condition showed that your core identity managed to hold together without anything splintering off--as long as you take some time to rest without taking any more blows like that, you should make a full recovery given a little time.

You're more concerned about the rest of your followers. Dana has been curled up in her old room since the battle ended, Layla's been busy hammering the Moby Ark back in shape…

Horatio's gone. You kind of saw this coming when he renounced your power--he needed to do this on his own, for whatever it is. It's sad but it was also his choice, you can't really do anything about it.

Niamh's honestly been a helpful little gremlin! Your preachers and healers have been out among the populace calming hearts and speaking out the nature of what had unfolded in these recent years--she was slipping about under a veil, regularly just doing helpful bits of magic here and there to help your people look more impressive.

Is that not the first step towards people taking you seriously? Presentation?

[Consolidating Your Grip: 50 + 10 (Niamh): 60]
[Cult Expansion: 6d12: 49. 80/100 to Cult 3]

Fortunately, your work at minimizing the casualties had paid off--while there was certainly some distrust at your presence, what with weird technology and the strange words, on the whole, people seem to find the presence of a cult that actually took steps to limit the damage to be a novel experience. New recruits pour in from all quarters--doubly so after your healers show off everything they've learned while studying everything!

In fact, you're talking with one of them right now!

"I really must confess, I wasn't expecting to be interviewing a God". Elliot Dashford gushed, his notebook wide open and sketching in an image of yourself. You were busy sitting on the desk opposite of him, nodding. "It's surprisingly hard to talk to people directly actually!" You commiserate. "It's most people are so small and even though I'm just a small god, it's still an uncomfortably tight fit for even a basic communion" You pinch the air before you. "Just little touches at a time!"

"Well, I certainly can't complain that I qualify for something bigger" He laughed--though there's a shadow of stress just barely averted in it. Your forces had stormed into the precinct that he had been held in--a political dissident from the Governor's College, tolerated for a time as an acceptable outlet for intellectual pressures--but as events came to a head, he found himself beaten and dragged to prison.

They would have killed him too, but the paperwork got lost, law enforcement had too much of a backlog--and then the whole thing fell apart with the Cult of Verdance's assault on the spire.

He was super impressed with what you did with all this. "Can you imagine!" He said when he was asking about the rites to be initiated. "How much of a better place this could be, if our gods could interact with us? Could work with us on a day to day basis?"

You think he'll be a big help in the days ahead honestly! Having someone who's well read can only be a good thing!

Heroic Cultist Recruited!
Elliot Dashford

Young, talented professor who had achieved tenure at an early age in political thought and history, where he alternately made a nuisance of himself from the government while also occasionally having a good point that was observed. He was imprisoned when the troubles began--but you managed to liberate him before they could really start turning on the thumbscrews! He's thankful for that, but also finds the upswelling of a new religion that has a deep and personal relationship with the deity they serve to be fascinating, and his skills are an excellent addition to your Chosen!

Special Ability: Learned (An adept at all manner of sciences and thought processes, Elliot provides a bonus to Infiltration and Charity actions. As a determined pacifist, he will not perform Kinetic actions)

Loyalty Rating: Dedicate

----------------------------------------------------------

For all that you had a good time meeting new people and helping others handle the transition in power--the threat of the Dragoons loomed large--the Spire's auspex provided regular reports about their advance through the outer system, past the minefield--and steadily approached Equinox.

There wasn't any real ambiguity as to what was going to happen here--no inquiries had been transmitted to you, and their advance was slated to take them into orbit above the colonial regions, where they would have the freedom to bombard wherever they liked.

"It's bad odds" Layla muttered, arms crossed and her legs kicked up onto the table (Elliot was trying not to stare at her, how cute!). The Moby Ark is back up and running again, but it can only be in one place at a time--and if the plan works out--they're going to be all over the place.

"We should actually be able to commandeer some of the Chimeras to help move our forces quickly." Elliot--sliding neatly into a role as your 'Numbers' guy stated. "Your… Belladonnas you called them? The battlesuits?" You nod to him. "They'd be a tighter fit, but if comfort isn't a big concern, we can probably grab some of the guncutters that weren't shot down on approach to the Moby Ark and lash them to it. Say three or four each? Between the two, we should be able to manage enough fast reaction to get our forces where they need to be, and concentrate enough to score some victories--provided we can scatter them at least."

"Which is the tricky part." Layla looks over to you--you throw your hands in the air. "I'm sorry! I'm reserving all of my power for the fight and I don't have anything extra to spare on the Spire--enhancing the Void Shield is doable, but everything else…"

"It's still the best plan we've got" Elliot mumbled, you smiled as reassuringly as you could. "We're still vastly overpowered here, but if we can bloody their nose a bit…"

+They will not flee+ Niamh's voice spoke through the Heart-link, Elliot jumping and fixing his spectacles as the juvenile Eldar steps into the room. +Despair and conviction drive them forward--they will fight until they choose to stop or cannot fight further.+.

"... Right, spooky prophecy aside…" Layla mutters, looking back to you. "I figure… 30 Bellas and a group of Sentinels for home defense, half the extra on the Moby Ark with me as a reserve, and the rest of our forces running specs' plan to try and stop 'em from bunching up?"

"That seems to be the best course of action." You send your presence off to inspect the defenses.

"Not much time left then" Elliot observed. "We'd best get started now if we're to be ready by the time they arrive.

----------------------------------------------------------

The Angels of Death have come to Equinox.

Their vessel is a graceful predator, a line-vessel's mass converted into a chariot suitable for demigods. Rebellions had surrendered at the mere shadow of the vessel, let alone the giants within setting foot on the planet.

There were no words--their orders were clear. Cannons emerged from protected case-mates, barrels lengthening and sparking with magnetic energies. Within the ship, revolver mechanisms rolled into place, fully loaded, with great machines to replace spent shells as fast as they were expended.

Energies spiked, and a barrage was sent towards the Colony--to Goldsheaf, the nerve center of the outbreak.

A shield of unreality blazes to life, stoked by the might of a God on their home turf. The salvo swallowed into the realm of potential--where their meaning was lost.

The Planetary Void Shield shows nary a ripple. But this was a mere probing strike.

Revolvers spin into action, hurling shells into macrocannon assembly. Magma Bomb after Magma Bomb rained down on the colony surface, Fully thirty round per minute each from eight turrets. A barrage of this category could break the ecosystem of a world for centuries from the sheer heat introduced.

By the power of the Maiden, the bombardment was devoured, each shell being lost within her realm.

The bombardment is sustained for two hours, enough fire to dig to the mantle and force breaches in any shielding system. Eight magazines fully exhausted before the guns fell silent.

No penetrations.

The shell-fabbers get to work preparing new munitions. As according to the dictates of the Codex Astartes, upon encountering a target resistant to bombardment, an aerial assault is to follow to neutralize shielding systems in preparation for a massed assault.

[76]

"Is it really such a crime to want to live?

The battle halts as a voice speaks through the void. A Priestess of a God she had never sought out standing at the Spire's main vox center.

"Nobody wanted to fight, nobody wanted to hurt anybody. Nobody wanted power, or influence, or money. We just wanted to go about our lives in peace."

Dana Magistrix stood upon the Governor's seat, her staff propped at the side, her cassock nowhere to be found as she stands in the garb of a Flower Knight.

"I'm tired of it. Tired of having to watch people succumb to fear--tired of seeing cold logic triumph over humanity. I hate seeing it--I hate living it. I don't understand why we all still have to suffer like this."

She raises her head, and tilts it ever so slightly.

"Tell me, Space Marine. Why do men have to die so that Man endures?

A pregnant pause fills the void--as a plea reaches out--with no expectation of reply.

"Because men are weak' Comes the reply, far younger and stronger than you would expect from a veteran of a thousand, thousand battles. "Unsuited to live in this twisted galaxy of ours. Sacrifice is the only weapon we have against the return of Old Night"

"I don't believe that" A wry smile fills Dana's eyes. "We're a bunch of young fools who'll believe anything we're told, as long as the one telling it is holding a gun in their hand."

There is no response.

"I'm in the Spire." Dana continued. "Come and get me Space Marine, and I'll show you that people don't need to be sacrifices to be strong"

[Dana Magistrix: Loyalty set to Fanatic]

The taunt does not go unanswered.

Thunderhawks roar from the deck of the ship--venerable attack craft, bearing a continued line of proud service since the dawn of Imperium. Each is a flying fortress, proof against any who would deter them from their cause.

From the keel of the ship bloom the fires of heaven, segments of the ship blasting off and screaming to the surface--Drop Pods, the mechanism through which the Adeptus Astartes force their way to any battlefield. Equipped with the most sophisticated countermeasures ever devised by mankind, their only flaw is the limit of weight that each is bound by.

From the Spire erupts a festival of lights, flak weapons lashing at the oncoming storm. Thunderhawks shook and rattled, their shields rapidly depleting as impacts shook them. They were undeterred--veterans of a hundred insertions, they drove for the atmosphere and into the shield umbrella, where they set foot.

More success was found against the drop pods, their defenses still holding against the defensive network, but their light weight proving a liability. They split from each other--one by one, but then in greater numbers. They would not have the luxury of landing in a single group, as the waiting defenders below sallied to meet them in battle.

From the Thunderhawks emerged a cadre of titans. Their heraldry in black and purple, bearing the image of a dread wyrm upon their shields. Tactical Dreadnought Armor: Ares Pattern. Considered by many to be the finest form of personal protection devised by any people. Three tons of adamantium plate wrapped around an industrial strength exoskeleton, capable of mounting a total of four weapons with no impact to performance. With sophisticated mass-balancing devices, the original flaw of these venerable suits of warplate has been corrected--they provide no impairment in agility to an unarmored Marine, with no compromise in defensive strength.

Chainfists lit up as the bulkheads of the Spire were carved open, tearing their own entry into your defenses. The handful of workers still inside have barely a moment to scream before assault cannon fire silences them forever. Thirty in total--the full investment of the Chapter's veterancy. They descend the Spire, a single objective in mind.

Beyond the Spire, the sky rains in a meteor shower unseen in ages. The people have already fled to shelter--it would protect them from being caught in the middle of this, so long as their guardians could keep up.

The drop pods hammer into the good earth of Equinox, no opposition immediately noted. Emerging from them are the Tactical Marines of the Adeptus Astartes--clad in the Mark XII 'Immortal" armor, called such due to the belief that Power Armor design has been perfected once and for all.

Each suit is a jet-powered wonder, the armor plating of a battle tank grafted to the finest warriors in the galaxy. They were not graceful--but the Space Marines of the modern day did not need grace or delicacy--not when their power alone could overcome any threat.

Each was armed with the venerable boltgun, a simple, reliable weapon that has been tried and tested on every battlefield imaginable. Where they differ from their older cousins are the ammunition. A single nanogram of antimatter suspended in every bolt, capable of annihilating near any force that stand against it. Their sidearms were not the simple chainswords and combat knives of old--but elaborate razors, whining with teeth and clad in a crackling field of azure. Be it armor, flesh, or bulkhead--all would succumb to such force.

On a dozen battlefields, hulking giants scanned their landing points. Finding no opposition, they gestured, and brawny fighters emerged from the pods, rifles and carapace armor donning their not-yet divine flesh.

The most dangerous role must be taken up by the most expendable--thus is the logic behind the Scout.

Adept at fieldcraft despite their limited training and incomplete augmentations, the Scouts of the Azure Dragoons fan out, seeking to blaze a trail on this new world for the sake of their brothers-to-be. This would be no different.

Such was hubris, such was experience.

Their technique was impeccable, sliding into the darkness and seeking their prey. Cat and mouse games were played in those shadows--as Huntsman sought Scout and vice-versa. Many a time a Scout would go for a silent kill for a stray foe--only to find it a mere walking simulacra serving as bait, as electric lances struck them down.

But for all the skill of the Huntsmen, their foes were Space Marines.

Many of these ambushes were executed correctly, only to hear the whining of thrusters. Blasting from the treeline came a blur--screaming steel sang and tore through the Huntsmen and their grand ambushes, blood and ichor falling as lights wink out from the Heart-link. Screams of rage and pain were echoed in turn as the Belladonnas emerged, Lances outstretched. In some battles, the surprise was enough--lances seeking the vulnerable joints of their armor, digging deep at the men inside and lashing at their lives, dragging them to the ground.

In other cases, the uncanny vitality of the Astartes won out--with the ambush failed, the outcome was never in any doubt. Boltguns rose and tore through the Belladonnas, cries of terror silenced as the riders were immolated in annihilation reactions or cut in twain by pitiless blades. Sometimes the riders were fortunate--the Marines aiming for center of mass or the head and narrowly missing the girls inside--sometimes, they even turned the table in those openings, and brought their foes down.

But Huntsmen and Flower Knights died, often five or six for a single Marine. Sometimes, they were annihilated for nothing. For those, the Moby Ark roared its defiance, vengeance in the heart of its operators.

But the champions of the Cult were dying, for all that they were dying hard.

As the war for the frontier raged on, the Spire was hard pressed.

Dana Magistrix, High Priestess of the Cult of Verdance stood in her own craft, staff in hand and flanked by the greater strength of the Order she had inadvertently formed all those years ago. The Terminators of the Azure Dragoons could not be stopped--when the walls burst with greenery to bind and restrain, they found themselves stymied by cutting blades and tearing bullets. Where traps and decoys sought to do harm, the Astartes simply ignored them--their plate proof against any conventional form of assault.

She could feel it--feel the defenders of the Cult dying--and a long restrained feeling swelled in her chest. Why was this happening? Why did they wait so long to deliver salvation, only to arrive with such speed when there was defiance?

Why was she rejected in her youth? She had studied scripture, she conducted the rituals--why did they simply turn her away? "She is not suited" They said. Could they have not provided a better answer?

Why did her father have to die for an Imperium that wouldn't even remember him for what he did in its name?

The bulkheads caved in, a thunder-hammer striking it. Dana looked up, staff standing upright before her. A second strike, and the doors strained.

She was done just accepting what couldn't change.

The third blow, and the doors flung out--Terminators bursting into the room, shields raised.

Dana did not need to speak, or signal--the Heart-link made her will clear. All of the Sentinels, the entire force of Flower Knights she had--all were in this room, all were braced, and all had weapons trained on this very bulkhead.

The room filled with starfire--enough plasma to core a Baneblade as temperature raised hundreds of degrees simply from exposure. Storm Shields caught the storm at first--shorting out after seconds and leaving the Terminators exposed to the hailstorm of energy.

But Tactical Dreadnought Armor was not so easily dissuaded.

The vanguard peeled away, hammers raised as they charged forward--Flower Knights met them head on, lances raised. They died--girls being reduced to pulp as their blows were parried and their suits cored with the return blows, blood mixing with ichor as the biosuits slumped over in death. The Sentinels continued their bombardment--but the next wave included assault cannons and rocket pods--their shields took the first few shots well enough--but against the rain of thousands of shells in seconds, even their vaunted defenses began to fade--the Sentinels fell, limbs shattered and bodies crushed under the pitiless weight of the Angels of Death.

Dana felt these losses, but had problems of her own.

Her staff was cut in half at the first exchange--the Terminator bearing the laurels of a Captain standing before her. Contemptuously, his greatsword lashed out. She ducked her head, narrowly letting the slash tear through the upper half of her Belladonna while she sunk her Reaper back in turn. It clashed--and the power was repulsed by hexagrammatic wards carried within--only to lose that arm as well.

A kick sent her sprawling, shattering the rest of her forward plate. Her hair damp with evaporating Vitae as her Belladonna struggled to rise once more--but the greatsword lashed out once again--stopping just an inch from her throat.

"It is done" The Captain said. "This heresy ends today."

"Of course it would" Dana spits. "The Emperor needs his blood sacrifice after all."

"You know nothing" The Terminator spat. "Of sacrifice."

"Oh I know enough!" Dana rebutted. "Even here, in a place as backwater as this! I know enough! I know that the light of God stands, content in the heart of Terra, willing to ignore any amount of evil so long as it's done in his name. That so long as humans are willing to die and die and die and die for his glory, that he'll be content…" She giggles. "But trying to save yourself? Oh that's not right at all, He couldn't shake loose a single regiment to save us from the Flayers, but the moment someone else offers to help us, he sends his Angels to kill us for taking an extended hand."

He bows his head. "It cannot be helped" He whispers. "It is not for us to determine our fate--merely to accept it as it comes."

"Fuck your fate and fuck your god!" Dana spits. "A God that can't be bothered to stand from his throne without a tribute of millions of lives isn't worthy of his throne or his divinity."

The Captain pauses, and sighs.

"It is not for us to question, merely to act."

His blade rises.

"I will make this quick."

And time stops

You are with Dana in this final hour.

"I'm sorry…" You whisper. "I'm just not strong enough."

"... Father called you Daemon." Dana whispered back. "How much like them are you?"

You look to her, and look deeply

"... I can't do that…" You whisper, knowing what she's thinking. "That's…"

"It's what I want" Dana begged you. "Use it as much as you need, but I refuse to let one more person die for this twisted machine."

That's…

You frown.

"I can't predict what the consequences of this will be." You say. "You could die, your soul might burst, if I was strong enough to divide myself--it might be alright… But I can't do that, you'll get all of me."

"You did say that I had 'Plenty of space', didn't you?" Dana smiled. "I'll keep--but your people need you now."

You…

You can't refuse that.

"Steel yourself" You lower your implements. "I will try to be swift, but this will have consequences."

"Haven't I said it enough? I'm ready--do what you need to do."

She's just… Such a Good Girl.

You hope she doesn't break from this.

You step up to your High Priestess, take her hand in yours.

And step within her

--------------------------------------------------

The greatsword sunk home.

It was blocked by a shaft of living wood.

The Captain was experienced with many battles--one doesn't rise to command a company of Demigods without centuries of battle experience, but he finds himself outmatched as the faded image solidifies around his target.

"You and yours are Not welcome here." You speak, your own voice swallowing the echo of Dana's own. You could feel her spirit straining to support your full presence within her, but your divine form slowly fades into view, superimposed on the remainder of her broken Belladonna--her eyes shone a blue to match yours, as she dangled as a puppet within your aura.

"The so-called God, no doubt?" The Captain speaks--he raises a hand and the third wave steps in, flamers in hand. You can sense something about those.

Ah, you see.

You flick your wrist, and roots manifest throughout the wounded, the injured--those who still held a spark of life within them--they were pulled out of the room and to safety.

"I would say 'The actual god', but yes" You retort, the flames turn towards you--golden light carrying a terrible will inside them.

Your hand merely flips over, and the flames die. The divine power animating them is third hand at best, not enough to stop you here.

The captain tilted his head, then his greatsword flashed out--faster than Dana had to deal with.

It didn't matter.

It struck against the shaft of The Scythe, the killing piece of your divine panoply emerging from the Warp at your command.

"Dana said it better than I could, but I will grant you one further chance." You warn. "You will withdraw here, and now, and you will not return. My people will give no chase--they merely wish to live in peace."

"That is not for us to decide." The Captain said--again.

"Of course it's yours to decide" You smile. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

He hesitates.

"ta-ta-ta!" You click your tongue as you feel the weight of guilt sinking in. "None of that now. Yes, history is important--yes, legacy is important. But you have a choice. You can still be better. Even here, even now."

He stares at you, not comprehending your point--goodness, he really doesn't quite get it, does he.

"It can't be that simple, can it?" He whispers.

"It's the simplest thing there is"

"We can't just walk away, can we?"

"Sure you can, you just need to do it."

He hesitates.

Then he lowers his sword.

"... Stand down"

The other Terminators seem to start at that. "But Captain…"

"I don't see any heretics here" He continued. "Just good folk who had to fend for themselves."

There is a shuffling, and you meet their gaze.

Then they begin to lower their weapons, marching back out.

The Captain is the last. He looks upon you.

"You could have killed us all"

"Yes"

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't believe in sacrifice"

He turns his attention down to Dana, still serving as your anchor. He reaches up to his helmet, and removes it.

"I am Captain Martin Solheart" Younger than you thought for his rank! "I do not know if I approve of this… Faith." You allow yourself to pout. "But I do know that the Imperium has strayed from the ideals it was founded upon. Your words… Have the ring of truth."

He pauses.

"They will come for you."

"I know, but that doesn't need to be today"

"They will not stop for honeyed words and a fair visage."

"Stop, you're making me blush!" You giggle and daintly conceal your face with your fan. "But… I know."

"High ideals are well and good, but without power."

"Without power, the wicked can simply take what they want, yes."

He nods. "Then you understand."

"I do"

"Then there is no more we need to discuss--we will withdraw."

"It is for the best." You snap your fan closed. "If you do return another time, I hope it is as a friend, and not a foe."

"Perhaps." He dons his helm once more. "It is not for me to say."

Spoilsport.

You wait until he's left the Spire though before you release your hold on Dana.

Hoo boy, that did a number on you.

[Cohesion -15]

Just holding yourself as tight as you can, you could feel yourself shaking apart a bit… But…

You gaze back at Dana, wincing as you see the effects of your possession.

"... Well, I'm sure she'll be fine." You yawn, stretching out as your form fuzzes around the edges.

"I think… Yes, I think I'm due for a nap…" Your attention begins to waver, the depths of sleep beckoning to you as you materialize a comfortable looking bed.

You fluff the imaginary pillow, pull up the blankets, and let Dormancy take you.

[Chapter One: Complete]
All Primay Objectives Finished, Scale Rises to 3 (World God)]

Select One Domain

[ ] Earth: The power of soil, stone, and everything in between. Mastery of Earth has great benefits in terraforming and drawing forth natural resources, it also augments your Weaving by allowing you to concentrate sufficient nutrients in one place to produce megaflora scale creatures.

[ ] Weather: The power of sky, storm, and sleet. Mastery of the Weather domain allows the harnessing of atmospheric phenomena--even exotic ones. It also permits access to technologies that delve into similar phenomena

[ ] Sun: The power of star, light, and purity. Mastery of the Sun Domain allows for manifestations of power tied to the stars. Provides excellent access to energy and plasma based phenomena.

[ ] Elysium: The power of peace, sanctuary, and safety. Mastery of the Elysium Domain grant access to wards and bindings capable of enforcing peace upon limited areas While these cannot be used to protect combattants-such wards are proof even against indiscrimate attacks as long as the peaceful reside within them.

Additionally

As you have reached a major milestone as a God, gaining sovreignty over a planet, you have gained access to a number of Divine Powers

Lesser Daemon Manifestation
Divine Blessings
Affinity Tracking

You also may choose One Divine Boon to commemorate this milestone.

[ ] Elevation: Elevates an Associated Domain to a Core Domain. That Domain is invoked for free on every action that it applies to. On the other hand, actions that it does not apply to will have the Maiden crowbar it in somehow, which can have hilarious and sometimes tragic consequences.

[ ] Transcendence: There are deeper secrets, you merely need to reach for them. Roll 1d100, the result is compared to a table and a new formerly Restricted Domain is granted as an Associated Domain. It's basically a Gacha, some can be very good, some can be mediocre, and some are about on par with your standard choices, you just don't know what you'll get!

[ ] Expansion: Select two Associated Domains that you have previously passed up, the safe but boring choice.

-------------------------------------------------

SPECIAL OFFER

From now until the formal start of Chapter 2, I'll be taking submissions for your Lesser Daemon variety. I have a default in mind but others might come up with something even more interesting.

The following criteria must be followed.

A) The daemon must be superficially humanoid, but not necessary a human (Bipedal with a recognizable face).
B) The Daemon must embody at least three of your Domains--you may include the one you're definitely picking up as this.

Two Hour Moratorium, Plan Voting Only

Alectai · Jun 30, 2020

Dana Magistrix--Chosen of the Verdant Maiden, High Priestess of the Cult that had arisen from humble beginnings to supplant the Imperial Cult. In doing so, it became the ruling authority on the Colony World of Equinox--an idyllic world on the western edge of the Galaxy, just a short hop over into the Forbidden Space of the Necrontyr Dynasties.

She certainly didn't feel any of those right now--her head was splitting, her bones hurt, and it took her a few minutes to remember her name once consciousness returned to her.

The beep beep noise was annoying. She shut it off, and groaned, rolling over where she lay.

"Well, well, well" An unfamiliar voice spoke--her eyes blinked open as they resolved into the lanky fellow who apparently had signed on as the 'Representative' of the people of Lam--you know, it probably needs a new name. "Awake ahead of schedule I see?"

"How bad was it…" Dana asked, clasping her face with a gloved hand.

"It could have been far worse." Elliot spoke. "Thirty of the Flower Knights didn't make it out, half of the survivors needed reconstructive surgery by your healers before they could properly heal--they really do a fine job by the way."

That was nearly three quarters of the total number you had, dead or crippled save for the grace of the Maiden.

"Losses among the Huntsmen weren't too bad," He continued. "They knew better than to stay stuck in once the first few tried taking pot shots at the Marines, they focused on suppressing their own scouts--and did a solid enough job of it given how nearly every engagement made by your heavy forces got at least a single swing off. We needed to surrender the bodies of the ones we defeated as a condition of the withdrawal--but simply surviving an assault from a company of Adeptus Astartes is something to be proud of!"

"It wasn't because of us." Dana muttered. "I had to go begging for help to get it."

"I wouldn't call that such a bad thing" Elliot replied. "At least you got the help--and the consequences weren't even enough that you can't live a normal life."

"Right, consequences…" She sighed, and raised her head, the blankets falling off as she looked down at her body. They couldn't even peel her out of her suit before throwing her here? She reached for the release at the back of her neck--and paused, finding only runners of a vaguely plastic-feeling substance where there was once a collar.

"First and foremost" Elliot explained. "It looks like your regalia has bonded to you--we tried cutting it off when we brought you in and just found it bleeding your blood. So we put you through a medical auspex--it appears to have replaced much of your skin and has grown a sophisticated network of roots, binding with your circulatory and nervous systems.

Dana looked herself over. These things had always been a little on the tight side…

Well, whatever, she never planned on getting into any of that hanky panky business anyway and her cassock would cover it, no big loss.

"It does seem to have useful properties however!" Elliot moved on. "You should be able to photosynthesize a bit! It also seems to have stimulated your natural healing process--your ribs were pretty well mangled, but even after we pulled you out, you seemed to put yourself back together without any issues."

"Could be worse" Dana allowed.

[Dana Magistrix has acquired Reward: Flora Embrace (Gains Regeneration, requires half as much food)]

"Moving along" Elliot nodded, slipping to the next page while Dana pulled the IV out of her arm and moved to the side of the bed. "The next thing seems to be your ears."

"What about them?" Dana asks, reaching up to them in response--then frowning as she feels around them.

"I suspect a sympathetic connection to the Maiden had you taking on some of her physical traits--namely, the ear shape." He pulled a small mirror out and showed it to Dana--the tiny pointed tips of her ears standing out through the bob of her hair. She frowned at that.

"Not quite a cosmetic change, your inner ear also seems to have warped to match it. You should find yourself more sensitive to sounds--seems like it might give you some better balance too."

"Also something I could live with."

[Dana Magistrix has acquired Reward: Faery Ear. Improved hearing and directional sense, increases balance]

"I was expecting something catastrophic." Dana relaxes. Okay, so she's trapped in an outfit that at least someone's probably fetishized at this point and her ears look like someone's played up some old legends so far, but they're not things that would impact her lifestyle. She reaches for her cassock. "Anything else."

"Well…" Elliot looks up from his notes at Dana, and stares for a moment. Then he flips to a new page and starts scribbling.

Dana looks at him, then looks to her cassock--currently floating in the air besides her.

"Oh for…"

[Dana Magistrix has acquired Reward: The Mind's Eye Opens, becoming a Psyker]

-----------------------------------------------------------

Once she had gotten a grip on her new… Condition, Dana fell straight back into the old habit.

Which is to say 'Doing thankless jobs that still need to be done because nobody else is qualified to do so.'

The memorial services for those slain in the protection of Equinox--something she had to make up more or less from whole-cloth because she never thought to prepare for anything between complete victory and getting genocided. A victim of success? Or maybe just hubris.

"Probably not hubris" Her new Marshal spoke--a tall, cool beauty, long-black hair grown nearly to her knees, with a high collared black turtleneck coat over leather leggings.

She honestly made Dana just a little bit mad, that someone who wouldn't be out of place in a the high houses had sworn to finish her grandfather's work at your side.

"We had grown complacent in the days leading up to this--it was our first encounter with foes who could not only hurt us if they get lucky--but kill us even if we had done nothing wrong." She had been serving in the Flower Knights--and was one of the few involved in the running battles who managed to achieve a victory or two against the Azure Dragoons.

"Grandfather taught me much about how to wage war, and I've been studying our own methods. If we should need to stand against the storm again, we will be ready."

Dana relaxed, and nodded. "I'll take all the help I can get. We've got a long way to go before we can really stand on our own two feet."

Heroic Cultist Recruited!
Amelia Mills

Granddaughter of Horatio Mills, your new Marshal is a cool beauty who would be equally at home on the dance floors of the high spires as she would be riding a Belladonna to battle. She has studied the old ways of war at the foot of her grandfather--and has been meditating on the new way that your people must master

Special Ability: Valkyrie -- Provides a bonus on Kinetic and Infiltration actions

Current Loyalty: Celebrant

---------------------------------------------------------------

"This--is--awesome." Layla Current sighed, crossing her legs and reclining on the viewing couch at the height of the spire. Below lay the grand expanse of Equinox--before her? The stars themselves.

What better place to survey the next step of her adventures?

"We do have a long way to go until we're anywhere remotely close to travelling the Void." Elliot mused, looking off the viewing platform himself, just a thin layer of transparent sapphire between him and the cold void. "While the hardest step of reaching it is solved by our taking of the Spire and keeping it intact--the Mechanicus managed to make off with their expertise--and Colony Cores do not contain the patterns for Gellar Fields or Warp Drives.

"Bah! Details details" Layla waves it off and tilts her hat up. "The Maiden'll get us all sorted, she managed to turn a bloody seabeast into a giant hovercraft! Just a matter of time before she gives us the stars too!" She smirked, and held her hand up to the Sun, grasping its distant force in her hand.

"We survived the bloody Space Marines, we've got a planet that can stand tall without any of those big men on their thrones. It's just a matter of time before all of this is our realm to explore too."

She grins toothily. "I can't Wait to see it all!"

[Layla Current: Loyalty raises to Celebrant]

-------------------------------------------------------------

"So" Dana begins, the new council of the Chosen gathered--its a step up from the old routine she would freely admit, going from whatever house had enough room for a table to a fancy throne room with a hololithic display in the center.

Of course, one would expect grim faced men furrowing their brow over troubling data in this position over three young women and a scholarly man, but reality is as it does.

"We're all rested up? Everyone's in good condition?" Dana asks, looking to everyone. Layla tilted her hat, Elliot muttered his agreement while he sorted his papers, and Amelia simply gave a stern nod. "Okay then, may the Verdant Maiden smile upon our gathering."

She spoke the words-normally those always get her attention? But there's little more than a sort of shifting in the air in response.

"... Maiden?" Dana asks, this time putting a little more of her will into the call. There is a twisting--and a puff of mist.

What emerged was a small creature, barely half the size of a grown man. Furry and vaguely resembling a humanoid rabbit, it donned a conical hat and the simple clothes of a traveller--just scaled down to his tiny figure. He looks to the Chosen, and his ears twitch.

"Greetings" He said, a surprisingly mellow voice. Layla is barely restraining herself. "This one is called Rainkeeper, Herald of the Great Maiden." He gives a polite little bow, his dignity not ruffled for a minute by Layla's quiet squeeing. "The Verdant Maiden is, at present, sleeping off the strain of the recent conflict, it will be some time before she can concentrate her attention again."

"eeeeeee" Layla squeaks--Dana ignores her and the ripples of a cuteness overload coming from the otherwise stoic looking Amelia. "Do you know when she will wake?"

Rainkeeper rummaged in his belt, and withdrew an old fashioned watch the size of his head. Elliot was desperately holding Layla back from jumping on the table. "This one's estimate should be sometime in the next century."

"Hold on! That's a really long time!" Layla's desire for fuzzy friends is short-circuited by that estimate.

"Not so long" The creature says. "It should be a single generation of the current people of this world." He bows. "She would return sooner, but is taking this opportunity to achieve a qualitative elevation in Her nature. When She returns, She will be able to do much that was once in question."

"A century is a 'Single generation?' " Elliot says, wondering. "What then would be the life span of the followers of her faith?"

Rainkeeper turns to the professor. "Exposure to Her power is a vitalizing force, even beyond the more directed manifestations of Her Favor. A lifespan of three centuries for the residents of this world is reasonable. Others may endure longer, depending on the degree of their bond."

"That's a second-phase juvenat treatment for everyone…" Elliot mumbles, doing the numbers. "Oh my, we're going to have our population growing swiftly in the next few years, aren't we?"

Amelia raises her hand. "We also need to prepare for other dangers as well--how are we to do this without the Maiden's support?"

Rainkeeper turns to her. "This is my purpose" He states. "While the Maiden sleeps--She yet dreams. I may deliver to Her seat the desires of Her people--and whisper these words into Her ear. She will dream of your works--and you will bear Her blessings as you carry them out."

Dana closes her eyes, and looks to Elliot. The Professor blinks, and gathers his papers. "Well, I was intending to make some plans either way…" He adds. "But I had a few high concept ideas and estimates of our ability to carry them out…"

"Let's hear them then" Dana orders. Rainkeeper sits down on the table, stoically accepting Layla finally giving up on restraint and dragging him over to her lap. Amelia looks like a woman betrayed.

Intermission
The extended periods of time between great milestones of your adventure as a God--these sequences extend the timeline forward at a rapid pace, as the deeds of your Cult progress with your tacit divine support.

You receive four resources for this. Arcane Is your Cult's mystical strength and backing, and is used to purchase projects and innovations that delve into the powers of the Warp--or require such knowledge as a prerequisite to study in the first place.

Knowledge is the body of secular and experimental study your Cult is capable of, often split between traditional research and sociological studies. These are often used to purchase new Doctrines for the Cult, or to indulge in projects that require a great amount of traditional information.

Industry Is your cult's ability to produce labor, used regularly in your projects to represent the manpower and machinery needed for more complex projects. Often used to build great structures or produce relics.

Discipline Is your cult's military strength, used when words alone aren't enough. While a peaceful solution is--of course--ideal, It is also true that if you seek peace, you should prepare for war.

Current Resources:

Arcane: 7 (Base 2, Dana 1, Niamh 2, Weavers 1, Healers 1)
Knowledge: 7 (Base 2, Elliot 2, Layla 1, Healers 1)
Industry: 8 (Base 4, Spire 2, Dana 1, Weavers 1)
Discipline: 5 (Base 2, Warmaidens 2, Amelia 2, Layla 1, -2 Casualties)

[ ] Project WORLDTREE
We've seized the spire, but it's ultimately a thing built to STC standards, by the Tech-Priests who have fled. We can use it, but we don't control it. We need to fix that--set the Weaver Sect loose on this edifice, give them the Maiden's power, and let's turn this thing into the pride of the Segmentum.
Effect: Spire megastructure is converted to World Tree, a mystical locus that can house the Verdant Maiden's full consciousness with safety, while granting the Cult full control of the Spire's mechanisms.
Cost: 3 Industry, 1 Knowledge, 2 Arcane

[ ] Project INTEGRATE
The Thorn Tribe that Niamh heads up believe in the Maiden--but they don't believe in us, not fully. They actually can't if our studies are any indication. Each and every member of the Eldar species is a finely tuned machine, capable of operating at peak performance far beyond any other mortal lifeform--pretty much 'Until something kills them.' The price they pay in return is a bone deep arrogance and disdain to other forms of life, and a mindset that suffers from mood swings strong enough that simply being brushed against on the street can agitate them enough to indulge in bloody murder, or fall into suicidal depressions at the first sign of injury. Oh yeah, and let's not even get on the topic of "If one of these people gets more than a superficial wound, it literally can't heal unless a specialist uses magic on it." If these people are going to join us, we're going to need to help them tone down to something that can coexist with other species--and do it without making them think we're crippling them.
Effect: Thorn Tribe integrated into general society, significant genetic and psychic alteration supported by literal divine will used to help tone them down. Will be significantly weaker, but emotionally balanced and capable of reproducing and healing like any other naturally born lifeform. Will still be more nimble and psychically adept than humans in general, but not insurmountable so.
Cost: Arcane 3, Knowledge 3

[ ] Project UPLIFT
The wonders of the Maiden aren't something to be hoarded in dark caverns, or hurled out freely as a poisoned pill for others. They are to be used to enrich the lives of her followers. More importantly, we're cut off from the greater Imperium for the foreseeable future, and we can't fully rely on the Colony Core to cover our needs as a society. Spending the time to brighten up the colony and improve everyone's quality of life can only be a good thing.
Effect: Fully transition Equinox's economy and infrastructure over to home-grown and sustainable sources. Greater familiarity with your works expands Cult adoption even further over the timeskip, raising the starting Size at the beginning of the new Chapter.
Cost: Industry 2

[ ] Project EARTHBLOOD
The techniques to simply grow our own technology are ultimately limited by practical realities--plant matter can only grow so dense and resist so much force. Stone can only be so hard, shells can only withstand so much force. And always--always--bigger projects require a large starting base that we fill in. This can't be sustained--not if we plan to reach for the stars. The solution has been found in two places--the Aeldari and the salvage from the Flayer vessel you captured at the start of this. If we can pull matter from the Warp and imbue it with a semblance of life--most of these limits start going away.
Effect: Develop the Maiden's signature material--Earthblood. A synthetic biomaterial invoked as required from the Warp by the Weaver Sect. Fairly hard, but is more renowned for its regenerative capacity. Prerequisite to more sophisticated Biomechanics Projects
Cost: Arcane 1, Knowledge 1, Industry 1 (Sharply discounted due to previous Miracles)

[ ] Project NOMAD
I'll be frank, we're a long way from being able to stand alone against a Great Power that diverts their full attention in our direction. The Leviathan is a good start, but too massive of an investment to be a reliable baseline transport. This is our solution--a lighter craft capable of holding either six Belladonna cradles or a dozen more conventional fighters--we load those onto the Leviathan, and use it as a mobile base of resupply while the new transports deliver our forces where we need them. Between the two, we shouldn't have to fear running battles quite so much.
Effect: Upgrade and alter Leviathan Landship to double down on its role as a Carrier. Implement the Albatross Flyers, aerial gunships capable of providing airlift to your forces.
Cost: Knowledge 1, Industry 2, Discipline 2

[ ] Project RAINFOREST
The Belladonna is--for what it's worth--a superb tool of war and peace. The control system alone is a thing of wonders! However, it's fair to say that it's also something of a mess of conflicting requirements and oversights that you would expect from a design spawned out ex nihilo by a young goddess. Now that the way has been shown to us, we can do better. The most obvious solution of course is to simply specialize between ranged and melee combat potential at the baseline. Beyond that though, the fact remains that they lack the sheer mass to long survive anything capable of bypassing their sheer toughness. The most logical solution to this? Simply build bigger.
Effect: Upgrades Belladonnas and focuses them primarily on melee combat. Implements Nightshades as a ranged combat variation. Implements the Rafflesia Heavy Floraplate for veteran combatants.
Cost: Industry 2, Discipline 2

[ ] Project HECTOR
We can't forget our conventional forces, for all that the Flower Knights are the tip of the Maiden's spear, it is the men who follow them that ensure they have what they need to strike home. Fill out their numbers with volunteer riflemen and consolidate them all into mobile forces. This frees you up to be able to use the Flower Knights as a semi-independent shock force.
Effect: Implements Rifle Doctrine and consolidates all three base infantry types into Verdant Army unit.
Cost: Discipline 3

Two Hour Moratorium

Leftover points will not be wasted

Alectai · Jul 2, 2020

Within your home in the depths of the imagination, you dream of a hundred years, your awareness lightly drifting from place to place, guided by the gentle voice that brought you you the words of the Chosen.

Grant them the blood of the Earth, that they might reach to the stars

Your will drifts to the archives, where a grand experiment is in the works.

"So" Elliot says, looking over the representatives of the Weaver Sect who had found an interest in this project. "What we have here is a rare opportunity to surpass the boundaries of merely physical construction, and delve into the mysteries of the arcane." He snapped his fingers, a hologram projector snapping to view and displaying several diagrams of the more impressive works the Sect had completed since their formation. "The primary bottleneck that barred our advance in previous years was the limitations of available biomass--in the end, mere plant matter and animal byproducts can go only so far--even supplemented by minerals and ores pulled out by the newly discovered techniques." A murmuring of agreement filled the room, and he smiled, gesturing broadly as the next slide moves forward--a carving pulled from the Aeldari raider crash.

"This is the primary material used by the Eldar in most of their construction. The term they use translates to Gothic as "Wraithbone", approximately. It is a non-conductive, self-regenerating metamaterial made up of imaginary elements as opposed to the exotic Iron compounds developed through extreme compression of our Adamantium. In terms of tensile strength, it's slightly surpasses common steel, but otherwise falls behind the more sophisticated blends--so why would they employ it exclusively--save for their own modern warships?"

The slide flicks forward, an overlay of green on the previous fragment of material--an aethyric reading.

"This is the answer, it is the most psionically conductive material in existence. It consists entirely of solidified warp-matter sung into existence by specialists. The mediocre hardness is mitigated by reactive strengthening, and in the end you get a material perfectly suited to the use of the Aeldari Dominion. Early efforts to copy it had some limited success by the Maiden's Grace--but we could do better."

He clicked the button in his hand--the next slide showing a fragment taken from the Flayer warship. "Blackstone as we've been calling it. It contains properties of mineral and metal simultaneously, held together by the most ingenious molecular lattice we've ever observed. When damaged, the disrupted portions dissolve into a metallic fluid, which gradually returns to an undamaged state--pulling from other sections of the structure as required to make up for loss from impact. Positively the hardest and most durable substance ever recorded--attempts to duplicate this by the Weaver Sect also showed some limited results--but we rapidly ran into problems scaling the system up. Initially? The thought was to abandon the project."

He clicked forward again--and the bustling of Weavers as it was revealed.

"We have attempted to apply this philosophy to our own efforts to draw material from the Warp. The new substance is not as durable as Blackstone, nor is it quite as capable of amplifying psychic energies as Wraithbone. However, where it falters in both of these fields--it makes up for in its sheer recovery potential. This new material emerges as a non-newtonian fluid. We pour it into a mold and introduce a slight psychic charge--when conducting such energies, the structure hardens to a material with approximately 80% of the tensile strength of Adamantium."

Displays of tests of the principle are shown.

"The most revolutionary attribute is that when the structure is disrupted by sufficient force or strain--the material liquefies--but remains bonded to the rest of the structure. Once the pressure is no longer being applied, it 'Pours back' into its original state and hardens once more. Early tests for mass production have shown promising results, as long as you're not worried about your manufacturing facilities being mysterious caves in the depths of the earth." There's a tittering of laughs at the joke.

Elliot smiles back. "Our job is figuring out how to produce enough of this to replace our need for the other refined materials needed for large scale construction projects. I'll be answering questions for the next hour--the rest of the day is workshopping solutions. This is the final piece we need to secure our safety in the days ahead, so we can consider our budget to be unlimited..."

The talking went on, but the seed had been planted. What wonders will they build?

[PROJECT EARTHBLOOD: Completed, 'Verdant Metamaterial' technology available for mass deployment. Will be implemented by default on all upcoming major projects.]

Your will fuzzes, and your grasp of time drifts away--the voice speaks to you once more.

"Make your home within the Spire, may it be a tree that grants succor to the people"

The Spire looms--can you call it a Spire anymore? It is a great tree, Earthblood scaffolding anchored to adamantium spine, taking on the weathered look of a well aged oak. Vines and moss find a home upon it--the aura of clean air and pure water making the realm a paradise for all flying and climbing creatures. Within lie the veins of a great sleeping giant, comfortable and welcoming to friends. The canopy breaches the heavens themselves, reaching far to drink from the light of the sun--and offer it upon the people of the world through the roots.

The Spire--no, it was the World Tree now--was one of the bigger projects of the century. The early efforts were fraught with issues, the altitude limit of the plants originally used for construction balking at the roots--it was only when Earthblood became a common enough substance that work could begin in earnest.

But what a sight it was.

It still retained all of the functions it used to have--the Colony Core had long since decayed to uselessness without the placation rituals of the fled Mechanicus keeping its machine-spirit quiescent. But not before the World Tree could replace its functions. Earthblood was synthesized from the roots, drawn up into the weaving studios and ateliers occupying the great roots. The Canopy served as one of the most efficient solar collectors ever designed, providing reliable power at all times of the day to the people of the capital city--they were calling it Redwood City for some reason.

Maybe had something to do with the color of the tree when they were getting started?

"Meh" Dana said, curled up on her throne while going through the day's reports. "At least they're letting me put cushions on this, I have no idea why it started as just a metal slab."

That'll be a nice place...

[PROJECT WORLDTREE: Completed, 'World Trees' may be constructed by the Cult of Verdance--a project of considerable length and expense which serves as a fortified center needed for any successful colony. A peerless planetary shielding device, terraforming engine, and anti-orbital weapons battery in one--the canopy also collects a wealth of solar power to maintain operations, as well as sustaining atmosphere around the many branches--many of which can be repurposed for the docking of voidships and potentially future construction of your own home-grown craft]

Your heart feels a sense of tugging--of urgency. You roll over in your slumber, and the voice shifts to your other ear.

Teach the children, help them to sheathe their sword

That's kind of hard though... Your dreams shift further down.

It was a meeting that few would expect. The Chosen of the Green Maiden, that creature that smells of life and care.

A monkeigh just like the rest. Niamh's ears bristled as she looked upon the favored child--why were they not approached? Their tribe is mightier! Their speed and cunning and magic alike, they could repulse the filthy creatures and claim this realm for the children of Isha and Asuryan--as it should be.

And yet, the Favor was granted to this thing, the blessing and right to speak in the Green Maiden's name--and as much as it galled her to submit to the false skinned witch, she felt the pressure of the God's attention.

+speak then+ You send--at least you don't need to sully your voice with the clumsy tongue of the plodders. +What is the Maiden's will+

"She's made it clear--through her herald." The lagomorph creature, yes, Niamh was familiar with it. "That she would like you and yours to cooperate more closely with our people."

Niamh bristled further, restraining an instinct to go for her knife. +unacceptable+ She transmitted. +You and your fellows must we submit to--it is the right of those favored by the Goddess to hold deference, regardless of your nature. But I would not be responsible for violating Her will when my people break her Peace.+

The human raised an eyebrow. "And why would that peace be broken?" She asks--Niamh scoffs, Monkeigh could never understand. +You are slow, clumsy, rude, your thoughts filthy and your spirits stagnant. They are an affront to good taste--it is the Goddess' will that we be at peace, and I understand this--but the others are not so in control of their emotions. They will lash out, and your people will die by the score until we are at peace again.+

She took a moment to think. "You and yours aren't quite paragons of class yourselves" She presents--and even the Goddess' injunction is not enough to stay her hand. Niamh's body flows to the top of the clumsy table, and she squats before her, crouched over her head as she looms over the Chosen +That our numbers are few and our tools broken does not change the fact a dragon is greater than a monkey, test me at your own peril+ She looks you over--raising one eyebrow, and calmly reaching for her tea.

"Yes", Niamh thinks. "The Goddess would forgive me this". Her knife rises from your belt and moves to stab at the hand. The feeling of grafted plant matter giving way and piercing through flesh and bone is always such a soothing sensation, an insult properly avenged, as it should be.

But in that moment, something changes--the blow strikes home--and it is the Eldar's hand that bursts into agony. She shrieks, stumbling back at the lancing waves of pain emerging from her hand! A fatal blow! A wound like this would be beyond healing! The arts are lost and the powers are at bay! It is only a moment later that she understands what was going on--her wound was untouched.

And the wraithbone dagger impaling the Chosen's hand barely slows her as she takes a sip.

"You don't have a monopoly on pain" Dana speaks, and she knows her words as Truth. "You aren't the only ones who can be hurt, and a helping hand doesn't need to be slapped away from petty pride." She casually withdraws the knife, her own blood still adorning it as she neatly sets it aside.

"You and your people need help" The Priestess of the Verdant Maiden decreed--and the Chieftess felt her heart--and knew it to be true.

She clambered back to her seat, shrinking back.

"... what must we do" she whispered, in Gothic--and Dana smiled.

You smile in your slumber, you think it'll be okay from there.

[PROJECT INTEGRATE completed. Over the first few years of the century, a heroic effort is made by the Weaver and Mender Sects to aid the Aeldari of the Thorn Tribe integrate with the greater society of Equinox. Slowly, inch by inch, the Maiden's power is used to regulate their emotional range to mitigate the bipolar extremes, and their incredibly optimized and sophisticated biology are slowly scaled back to something more sustainable for civilian life. By the end of the Century, they are... Well, honestly they've still built their own little settlement and still mostly keep to themselves in the new Deeproot Province, but they're growing to maturity--and even having their own kids on their own now without needing the vat! Quality of life for Eldar (Now calling themselves the Sithe folk), vastly increased. Civilian physical abilities have degraded, but the handful that sign on with the militant arms can usually be provided symbiotes that temporarily reactivate their old abilities, letting them rise to positions of expertise. Sithe Druids added to military forces]

The flow of time proceeds, ambitions made and peoples finding their way. The population grows, as do those who believe in you.

The voice speaks.

Give them the tools, the arts to thrive.

Funny, that wasn't really your thing--but you'll do your best!

"Woo!!!"

Layla had to admit it--life was pretty fucking great since the Cult took over the planet. Before, it used to be that she'd have to carefully budget where she was going, calculate how much fuel it was going to need, and then make sure to pop in and out before anyone got upset that someone was outside the colony borders.

Now?

Now she was riding a fucking solar-powered hoverbike over the seas, screaming up a gigantic wake, and pissing off every bloody beastie still in the waters.

"Come on!" She leaned to see the space behind her, her hair blowing back as she did so. The bike didn't shift--her bindings kept her secure and aware of what was ahead of her. "You're going to have to swim faster than that to catch me!"

Then the big squid monster burst out in front of her, beak opened wide for lunch. Without turning around, her Will controlled the bike's heading, the plastic Earthblood sheath rippling as thrusters shifted to the bottom of her bike, jetting her up and over the ambush, riding up the kraken's head and sailing off into the skies.

She surveyed the surroundings with a grin--townships sailing the sea like living islands, Leviathans transporting goods and services across the Colony. Even the buildings often were taking up the glossy sheen of solidifed Earthblood as they were hooked into the power grid that was spreading across the planet.

This was a great time to be alive!.

Your sleep turns, as your focus turns to something you didn't like

[PROJECT: UPLIFT completed, Equinox completely weathers the collapse of the Colony Core, maintaining the current standard of living across the land, replacing worn out components with new-grown devices and structures as needed. Basic Biomechanisms completed. Colony is entirely self-sufficient.]

You curl up in your sleep, a memory of what you dislike--but the voice continues to speak to you, and you understand the neccessity.

Strengthen their arms, aid them in protecting their charges

To the training camps, to the citadel your attention flies.

The Flower Knights have come a long way from being a simple gimmick. The ideal place for the young and unattached girls of the Colony to find a measure of honor, they were the tip of the Cult's spear, and as new techniques were mastered, so too did the Knights grow to match it.

Amelia tugged on her gloves, settling in on her saddle. There were jokes made on the topic in the past, but this new structure could not be supported with a mere seven binding points.

Seven lining the spine, the core of the heart. These were the bindings familiar to all of the Flower Knights, to the Storm Riders, to all who interacted with the great works of the Maiden and her Servants. It was enough to manage a Belladonna or a Rosemary, and the Forty-Nine Bindings of a Leviathan could be distributed across enough people that nobody needed more than seven.

This new ride though required thirty-five, all to a single rider.

It required some changes to operation as a result.

Climbing up to the new Floraplate model was a trial. One could get into one of the lighter biosuits just by hopping up on the knees or the arms and tucking yourself in. Not so with the new Rafflesia. A vine was lowered from the back when not in use, recognizing an authorized wearer through communion of authorized symbiote to its own rudimentary intellect. It would then retract to the opened control cavity.

Within was a device not entirely dissimilar to a racing bike in overall shape. The operator would sit upon the saddle and receive the first bindings in the usual place. This would cause the sealing of the control cavity, and the flooding with vitae. Each leg would be inserted into the newly opened pockets at this point, where each would receive an additional seven bindings. The arms (Which finally had something to do!) Would be plunged into the control yokes, which would seal around them and implant the next two-pair of seven bindings.

The final structure was just another example of how the Maiden for all her kindness and good intention, just never failed to give the wrong impression. Goodness.

Amelia accepted the bindings with her usual grace--and looked upon the monitor implanted into the control seat, angled just a bit before face level. She pulled on the control yoke, and witnessed the secondary set of arms match her moves. Her own kinetic sense handled basic controls--taking advantage of the bifuricated perspective though to add some valuable subweapons though? Why not?

The biggest advantage of Heavy Floraplate boils down to having the sheer mass to integrate proper sensory organs and display mechanisms. Being able to direct one's sisters-in-arms through the Heart-Link while also carrying enough heavy firepower to suppress any threats?

It was just a good plan, the Maiden's difficulty grasping that people don't want to be pierced by a bunch of roots notwithstanding.

Combined with the complete training of the conventional army?

Amelia was confident that the Cult of Verdance could stand against any threat that would threaten them--and endure it all, given time.

[PROJECT HECTOR AND RAINFOREST Completed, Belladonna and Rosemary Floraplate handle close combat and ranged support, led by the four-armed, thirty metre Rafflesia Heavy Floraplate, equipped with biomechanical auspex and information collection abilities, along with firepower sufficient to counter any known threat. Verdant Cult Army formed from combined Huntsman, Sentinel, Guardian, and Druid forces, and is entirely self-sufficient save for limited transport capacity. The Cult has sufficient force to be able to expect victory against all but the most determined assault]

Everything was just lovely.

You feel awareness returning to you--slowly, surely.

You blink awake, eyes looking at the adorable bunny friend who was whispering in your ear!

"Greetings Lady *****" Your Name fills you with a pleasant vibration, fully solidified and secured once again. "Your people have done well!"

"That's wonderful! You smile, and sit up. "Oh goodness..."

You see a veritable menagerie of the little guys carrying things around! Your little place has expanded to a little estate! You're coming up in the world and they're just doing such a swell job keeping things in line!

I mean, they're also you, but you have such good taste! There's even two carrying big knives standing at the gate and they're just eeeeeee

"I am happy to be of service" Rainkeeper bows, and steps back. You stretch yourself out.

Ah

It was going to be good to get back in the swing of things.

Alectai · Jul 4, 2020

"Hi Everyone!" You pop in at a good moment, materializing in a pulse of verdant green in the middle of the room. Your hair immaculate--as is proper--your garb properly sewn together and your eyes shining like a bluebell beacon. You preen at the attention--and the swell of energy you already feel now that you've re-established your connection to time as mortals understood it.

A pillow smacks you in the face.

"ONE HUNDRED YEARS" Dana glares--she's still a Good Girl of course, but now she has cute ears and is shinier and has taken the time well! "You've been sitting there ONE HUNDRED YEARS" Do you know how hard it is to be in charge of a rising heretical cult?" Oh no she's actually a bit upset. "When everyone expects you to be the voice of reason as everyone goes mad with power now that it's okay to do new things now?"

"I dunno, it seems pretty happy as far as I can see?" Layla smirked, feet kicked back on the table as she leaned back on her chair. "I've certainly had a great time--planet's a big place and there's lots to explore now that you don't get blown up anymore for going too far out the borders."

"It's the principle of the thing!" Dana turns on the smaller pirate--who just gives a cheeky grin in the face of the First of the Chosen. "You just went around doing whatever you want!"

"I helped!" Elliot supplies--he's a Good Boy too! "I handled some of the paperwork!"

"You're the new guy, you don't count" Dana waved it off--he deflated. Wasn't he with the group for almost as long as everyone else though? It must be a joke! You can even feel it by the lack of any real deep hurt!

"I wouldn't even call it 'Mad with Power' " Amelia interjected. "Truthfully, after the Event of Year three, people seemed to settle down and we didn't need to worry about anyone else deciding to try and create any infinite source of delicious bacon."

...

Okay you have to take a look back into what happened there, you might not be able to spread influence back in that period but you were sure that had to be a bad joke...

oh

oh goodness

Okay! Maybe sending Rainkeeper with a book of mystical script and letting anybody who asked him read from it was a bad idea. Oh dear that was a proper mess, good on Dana to regulate who gets to talk to him afterwards!

"Well, what's a hundred years between friends!" You add, smiling. "Besides, I'm sure there's all kinds of things we can do together now that we're all together again!"

"Project NOMAD is still on the backburner" Elliot opened his notebook. "Then we've got our early attempts to develop a void-merchant marine to see if we can exploit the rest of the star system. Our internal economy is in good shape and shouldn't need any real intervention right now. A token speech might be in order?"

"Oh! Right! I saw that!" You whip your fan out. "Hohoho! I haven't tried to pop into the Tree yet, but there's no reason I can't project myself through it if I want to interact with anyone!"

"You might want to keep that on the downlow." Layla cautions, you turn to her, blinking owlishly. "They've all sort of gotten this... Image of you in their minds"

"Don't you go there..." Dana almost snarls You wonder what it's all about? Before Layla can chime in though, Dana turns to you. "I think it would be for the best if you kept any public appearances to a minimum. Just for the sake of keeping the peace."

Goodness, you don't really understand, but. "I'll trust you then!" You tap your fan on your wrist a few times. "Still, it almost feels like things are going too easy. What do we even have to worry about now? We can just cuddle up, grow, and be safe in the days ahead!"

"We have a problem"

Niamh drops in--she looks much better than she did before! She's still favoring the leathers and furs from before, but she wears it now over neat clothes, and it looks like she's actually gotten something decent to eat now and then! Good for her that it's all working out.

Of course, everyone else seems to be looking suspicious at the whole business--Niamh isn't deterred by their confusion though!

"A prophecy has been spoken, and fate turns" She maintains a straight face as she turns her gaze to you, bowing her head in submission before proceeding. "We will have guests soon."

Huh, you weren't planning on having any guests.

"What kind of guests are we talking about?" Dana asked--Niamh shook her head. "Unclear, the readings only warn of potential peril. We must make suitable preparations in the time we have remaining."

"Well then!" You smile, and put your fan away. "Shall we get down to the day's business?"

Chapter Two: Reaching Out

Ensure the 'Guests' don't ruin everything (PRIMARY)
Establish home-grown Voidcraft, explore your home system (PRIMARY)
Ensure Equinox becomes a capital world worthy of being your heartlands (PRIMARY)
Gain at least one Ally (SECONDARY)
Complete your basic Army List (SECONDARY)
Achieve a Rank 6 Cult (SECONDARY)

You are a Scope 3 God
You currently have 6 Tokens of Favor
You have 5 Heroic Cultists
You have a Rank 4 Cult, generating 5 Manpower

You have taken the Sorcery Domain! And in doing so, unlocked the magical power of teaching any rando schmuck the symbology and language that alters the very fabric of time and space to make magical things happen! Of course, doing so is a complicated task even in the modern warp, especially if you're not going to demand a large price for the right to use your power! Things can sometimes go wrong. Sorcery On changes the normal rules--even mortal generated die bonuses now contribute to Miracles when Sorcery is On. However, should the d100 come up as doubles, a Phenomenon occurs, which modifies the final result in a method that ranges from being awkward to potentially life threatening. With one exception. A roll of 00 (Representing '100' ) instead will give an unexpected side effect that nonetheless turns out to be for the better. Great power may be found with this Domain, but great peril can be found as well, use it wisely!

Preaching Actions
[ ] Speak to the People! (DC ??)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection, Sorcery)
It's good to be back, and it's good to be able to talk directly! Of course, your people want to actually go over what you have to say before you say it, which is very confusing! You're not sure what's going on but you'll take their word for it and do your best!

[ ] Modernize your Dogma (DC 75)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
Society has changed in some simply dizzying ways since you went to sleep! While the Dialogues did a great thing keeping everything all glued together until now, it is running into certain concerns regarding it never being written assuming the Cult was in charge of anything. Maybe see if you can nag someone to write a new edition? Or an addendum? Or maybe some new chapter or something? Gosh, this is all so complicated

Infiltration Actions
[ ] A Quiet Census! (DC 60) (1 Manpower)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection)
Everything seems pretty okay! Everyone seems pretty happy! But there's a decent group of people who are less happy, you should make a point of finding out what's wrong so you can fix it!

Charity Actions
[ ] Party Time! (DC 50) (1 Manpower)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Connection, Earth, Elysium, Sorcery)
You're back! You're awake! What better way to celebrate than to throw a big party in Redwood City open for everyone! People'll love this, you're sure of it, especially if you make sure to provide some nice special effects for everyone!

[ ] Stars Above and Beyond! (DC 80) (2 Manpower)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Earth)
Your Lotus Star Reactors are a brilliant idea! Unfortunately, nobody can create them without your help, because the're super complicated and apparently the magic you used isn't something your Ratosk can wrap their heads around. So clearly this means you should build a whole bunch of them and just leave them lying around for people to do something with!

[ ] Make a Nice Place for guests! (DC 70) (1 Manpower)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Earth, Elysium, Sorcery)
You've got guests coming and they might not want to kill you! Just in case, you should make sure there's some pleasant guest quarters in the World Tree for them to hang out in! It'll be nice to have even if they turn out to be bad guys that you need to outfight, because eventually someone is going to want to make friends, right?

Kinetic Actions
[ ] Project: NOMAD Part One: Big Fish? Big belly! (DC 70) (Manpower cost waived by remaining Tokens)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Earth, Endurance, Sorcery)
Strapping guns to a Leviathan was a nice idea at the time... But even with the new techniques, it's not actually very well designed for going pew-pew. They had the idea of just making it able to carry a lot of friends though and have those friends carry pew pew for them! But that means giving them a lot of space to get in and out which means a lot of changes which means this is going to be a little time consuming!

[ ] Project: NOMAD Part Two: Birds! (DC 75) (1 Manpower)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Earth, Endurance, Sorcery)
They're not really birds, they're more... Choppy flying bladey things, but they want to give them a bird name and that's A-OK with you! Let them hang out on top of a Leviathan and spill out and project all the pew-pew for you! Plus they can even carry the Flower Knights with them as an added bonus! It's like some kind of... Flying, Flower, Knight... You'll need a better name for this order you think.

[ ] Giant Friendly Crab! (DC 80) (1 Manpower)
-[ ] (Attached Cult Tokens)
-[ ] (Sorcery On/Off)
-[ ] (Available Domains: Weaving, Earth, Endurance, Sorcery)
You had a brilliant idea, watching some of the sea life do their thing. Armored light walkers, with reinforced shells, lots of guns, and the ability to jump around and reposition as needed. Sure they're not super fast and maybe not able to get everywhere you'd like, but they're still faster than Belladonnas and you can stick a really big gun on them if you can. This can't be a bad idea

Two Hour Moratorium

Alectai · Jul 8, 2020

"To begin with, speaking to a crowd is much different than speaking with an individual--or a small group." Dana drilled you, walking back and forth with her hands clasped behind her back. "You must be clear, you must be direct, and you must keep in mind that not everybody is equally capable of understanding what you're talking about as we are."

"In other words, talk slowly and carefully so the monkeys can understand it." Niamh clarifies--Dana rustles at the statement and looks back. "That's a slur you realize." Niamh simply tilts her head, an aura of growing smug emerging. "No, it is a strictly accurate term making use of your monkey language, I think it is a fair statement to make."

Goodness, that smug level is strong enough you can feel it from here! You feel Dana's Will sharpening, and you feel Niamh's own ego swelling in response. You think you'd best go and get that speech done then.

You vwip off just as the first bursts of telekinetic force erupt, and bind yourself to the World Tree--just lightly, and just for a moment.

[Speak to the People: 45 + 10 (Dana) + 10 (Niamh) + 10 (Connection): 75]

You think you did rather well! Thanking them all for their efforts over the past century to turn Equinox (Maybe the planet's due for a rename too now that you think of it) into a land where all could live in peace, protected by the brave with the livelihood of the population secured by the works of everyone. A few comments about remaining united even as the world enters a new phase of its development, and that more importantly, your blessing will be with them all, whether they choose to believe in you or not.

You think it was a rather smashing success!

You do hope that the black-eyes that Niamh and Dana are sporting heal back quickly though, they don't look nearly as cute like that!

[Success! A great speech reminds everyone that you're still here, you're still with them, and that you haven't suddenly turned into a soul eating monster. Recruitment Dice unlocked once more]

While all of this was going on, you sent your will to an area parallel to this great speech. Amelia was working very hard--getting to the bottom of a few... Irregularities you think she called it? Areas that weren't going the way they were supposed to be? Mostly just livestock going missing and supplies vanishing--but apparently there were suggestions that the grimories of the Weaver Sect had been accessed without authorization a time or two as well. Concerning! Given how Sorcery is really hard and really not for amateurs.

Goodness but you don't need another Hogulus Nemea challenging the Flower Knights to a jousting contest, that was just embarrassing for all parties involved.

...

They do say he was delicious though.

Amelia's plan is pretty good--not something you feel the need to micromanage. Get a hold on some of the Huntsmen who were off duty, have them get some bikes and go travelling, and just keep their eyes open for any oddness. Simple, easy, everything should go perfectly well! You're not sure if it's just bad record-keeping, a bunch of Emperor-botherers preparing a guerilla resistance, or even a sinister plot! You just don't know!

But you'll find out you're sure!

[A Quiet Census: 63 + 10 (Amelia): 73]

It was stupidity.

As it turns out? Apparently when a long running, extensive propaganda campaign has made a strong point of saying "Any faith but the Imperial Faith is a twisted cult meant to sap your reason and consume your souls." Combines with a cult that preaches compassion, support for one's neighbours and kin, and encourages the gathering of strength to protect them in times of crisis? The way people square that circle is to go 'Clearly, this is a scam intended to fool the sheep into surrendering their souls to the inner circle. We--the wise--understand this truth, and will see the true secrets of the Thorned Crone and the power she offers to those who are willing to seize it!"

Really though, blood sacrifice, lewd rituals, and a lot of dead livestock! Goodness, you're glad that all of this was brought to your attention before it could get out of hand! It's really just a terribly messy thing they're doing and you won't have any of it!

So the next time they conduct one of your rituals, you allow yourself to be summoned.

A verdant beam of light erupts from the heart of the ritual ground--the power of the Warp spilling from the breach--whispers fill the air and the light is blinding--literally so! Their eyes are boiling out of their sockets! Goodness, you won't have it go that far! You reach out a mote of your power and allow the damaged eyes to heal back.

"ENOUGH OF THIS, THESE ARE NOT MY WAYS OR MY DESIRES. CEASE THESE PROFANE RITUALS AND RETURN TO THE PROPER PATH ONCE MORE"

And--that about does it for you as you withdraw from the material. Goodness, it's always such a strain to poke your head into objective reality, hopefully they get the hint and we can all go back to life as it should be!

[Success! Fringe elements of the Verdant Cult had gotten the wrong idea, and were indulging in dark rituals in hopes of gathering the blessing of the you that surely had to exist underneath all of your niceness. Needless to say, once this came to your attention, you put a proper stop to it and now everything is perfectly fine and dandy again! You don't have to worry about some fringe sect popping up now and making you look bad!]

Now that you had established you were still a thing, and kindly corrected the misguided before they could go too far, you could focus on the Fun things.

Like throwing a party!

"It's more of a festival..." Dana would clarify during your discussions. "We should have success holding them in the World Tree--plenty of food, drink--and we can get a good amount of entertainment in on the way up as well. Even with the upper levels closed of for the Canopy Project." She goes over her list, and looks up at you--currently staring blankly at her. "Is there a problem?"

"Maybe?" You reply, your mouth puckering up. "That seems like a lot of moving parts though, and we don't have that many people familiar with the Tree"

"Right..." Dana nodded. "And you're not really the best at guiding people." You throw up your hands and shrug. "You're just all so small! It's hard to see the little things like that!"

"Right, I expected that--tell me, the World Tree's bindings--can they only be controlled by you directly?" You take a moment to think on that. "I don't see why they would be limited like that?" You supply--and she nods.

"Good enough, I'll take care of the details." She sets her paperwork down. Uhhhh... "I've gotten some practice in the last hundred years." She snaps her fingers after noticing your blank stare--a spark of green energy splashing off of them in the con---Oh, right! You did patch one of those bigger holes in her soul with a link to yourself--she would be able to use some of your power on her own.

"Good luck then! I'll focus on the Canopy in that case!" You smile, wave, and detach from time, turning your gaze to the results.

[Party Time!: 100 + 10 (Dana): 110]

Oh boy! She really got into that! Between the link to your power and her own experience in the past century, Dana just straight up tears through all of the little logistical problems. Freed from the issues of needing to pay attention to her body, she was able to solve a dozen nagging problems in the bud--using the Tree's projectors to manifest multiple avatars across as required, sorting out paperwork and organizing people. As the festival actually begun she was in dozens of places at once--giving the opening address in several of the major floors while serving as tour guide to many others on demand.

You were proud of her! She was doing the kind of thing you'd have to do yourself! Just with a lot less screaming and a lot more knowing what she was actually doing for the little people.

By the time the Skyreach Festival (As people were already calling it!) Wound down, Dana was exhausted, everyone was happy, and there were already plans about doing this every centennial! The next time will be even more glorious you think!

[Miracle! Dana Magistrix personally served as the central intelligence of the World Tree during the Skyreach Festival, and exhibited an uncanny degree of psychic power, precision--and just enough instinct about what's coming next that she never fell behind the constant flow of 'Things that needed to happen'. Dana confirmed as a Gamma-class Psyker, with a specialty in Telepathy]

Splitting her focus with the festivities below, Dana was also sending her attention above--and when the Festival wound down, and she had a good night's rest to cool off from the events, she was back in action, up and ready to direct the workforce of the Cult in their biggest project yet!

"It's got to have room for the really big ships." Layla said, waving her arms around. "The biggest ships, we don't know how big we're going to be able to build, so we should make sure we can handle anything."

"That's ridiculous" Elliot countered. "With the amount of space we'd have to use to create berthings for ships of that size, we'd be able to build a full out capital city up here! It can't be done, it's ridiculous!"

"Do you have any idea of the budget we have going into this?" Layla's retort struck true. "The Maiden's going to be going all the way here. We have most of the Weaver Sect that isn't committed to the Nomad Project here, now--there is zero reason why we shouldn't try to blow this whole thing completely out of the water."

She gets on her tiptoes and does her best to loom over the lanky scholar. Failing, but she makes a bold try. "Big, Ships"

Elliot stares back, and looks to his notes.

"I'll see what I can do." He admits, defeated.

[Making a Nice Place: 64 + 10 (Dana) + 10 (Layla) + 10 (Elliot) + 20 (Excess Manpower) + 40 (Domains): 154]

In the end, a staggering budget, colossal swaths of divine energy, and the attention of many of the best and brightest of the Cult won out. The roots of the World Tree grew deeply, and drank greedily from the geothermal energies of the world. Earthblood flowed like water up the veins of the megastructure, reaching for the branches and molding into place. The Canopy of the World Tree grew wide and tall, branches sprouting great leaves that devoured the light of the sun, radiating the comfortable excess to the world below in a soft glowing light. The pinnacle of the tree flattened, and a field of power eventually crackled to life. Atmosphere was fed into the bubble, and slowly but surely, a paradise in the Void formed. Branches grew to colossal size, straightening out and hardening to where each could support the weight of a ship--docking space enough for a fleet if need be--though the empty piers do seem a little lonely.

The view at the Canopy of the World Tree was magnificent--the beauty of the Void without the problems of radiation, vacuum, or micrometeors to be concerned about. Many of the more ambitious folk moved their homes and businesses to this place--eager to get in on the ground floor of something that was rarely done.

By the end of it all, you have an edifice that could endure apocalypse itself, with a degree of luxury the most decadent nobles could only dream of. And you didn't even need to kill or torture anybody to get it! That'll show 'em!

[A Great Miracle Indeed! The Canopy of the World Tree is completed--a great orbital habitat nestled at the height of the World Tree. Plenty of room for expansion, a view that is quite literally to die for, and more importantly--a wealth of docking space and the berths to construct voidships of your own... Once you can figure out how to make it work anyway.]

Compared to all that, Project NOMAD almost felt like an afterthought.

Which wasn't to say there was no excitement to be found, oh no. The Leviathans were some of the biggest mobile structures you've ever created! Colossal landships that carry an army in their guts and spit out burning rays of beaminess!

The fix ultimately was pretty easy--at least in theory. "Strip out some of the extra guns and armor that we freed up by introducing Earthblood, and then take advantage of that added space to add more room for more allies!"

[Project NOMAD 1: 45 + 10 (Layla) + 10 (Amelia) + 10 (Domain): 75]

In the end, a simple task was simple, and the upgraded Leviathan design was smoothed out, polished out, and would be a fine delivery platform to the Cult's forces in the inevitable moment when the sky decides to fall again.

Progress!

[Project NOMAD Part One complete! Leviathan Landships altered to serve as fleet carriers--limited direct combat ability, but excellent field support and maintenance capacity!]

Now if only you knew when the guests were going to arrive....

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[97]

Space tears, the Immaterial yawns open--you set your gaze to the Mandeville Point at the edge of the system as a behemoth of aged steel and primordial might emerged from the rift. Flanking it were four lesser vessels. Your attention shifts to information held within your World Tree--the list of registered vessels.

Four Carrack-class transports--tough, well armed, excellent transport craft with firepower comparable to the venerable Sword class. But the beast in the center of the formation...

An Armada-class Star Galleon. Nine kilometres long, armor six feet thick of burnished Adamantium plating--designed from the ground up to be able to take on a Hive World at need and plunder it to the bedrock. That the Imperium of Man not be denied its tribute, so were the Publicani formed. Where it falters in the line of battle, it excels in planetary siege and assault.

A single look at the World Tree is observed, data is calculated by wizened djinn-skeins. An estimate is made of current planetary development, and an assessment presented to the captain."

He gazes upon the script, chins jiggling as his corpulent mass shifts on his cushioned throne. Fingers the size of sausages stroke a well trimmed moustache in consideration.

"More than we had anticipated, but no matter" He declared. "Plunder too is among our duties! We will advance!"

Engine bells burned, and the squadron began its approach.

Publicani Korian Paulus Sirius has returned! He is not impressed by what he sees

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[94]

Reality screamed, and the from the depths of the void came a new craft--dagger shaped, sleek--much as a Terran shark might be. It has seen clearly better days, the hull weathered, chipped, and battered--but the Gellar Field remained strong yet--and the breaches were not so bad in light of that.

A slim figure in a raggedy blue and copper vestment looked down at his dataslate.

"That's a lot of ships..." He muttered.

"Wasn't this supposed to be safe passage" A shrill voice echoed, slightly digtized--the floating drone coasted in, manipulators clicking with barely concealed agitation. "This was supposed to be safe passage! How did you get this wrong!"

"It shouldn't be wrong!" He whined, tossing the dataslate over to the machine--it clattered and grasped and caught the thing, turning it around and watching the camera-lens within focus.

"You nitwit! Dolt!" It threw it back. "That's not the Safe Passage rune at all! That's the Interesting Times Rune!" It hovered up to his face and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. "Look! Right at the bottom!" He did so. "You see that?"

"That's Safe Passage!" He called out--only to get shaken again. "No! Safe passage has a rounded bottom! That's clearly a squiggly!"

He looks again, and pales. "Oh... Oh no..."

"Damn right you're 'Oh No!' We were just coming here to do some bonepicking, now we're in a race!" The drone bobbed and pushed forward to the bridge, completely missing the readouts on the camera. "Full power to the engines! Our quest will not be denied!"

"Hold on..." The long suffering assistant to the Most Glorious Sage of the Arcane Cosmos added, looking at his dataslate. "This can't be right, they got here faster than we did..."

Everyone on the bridge stopped, turned, and stared.

"Interesting Times is supposed to create a trial after arrival, isn't it?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[80 + 10]

Deep within the system, something lurked. A black hull, built as an edifice to ancient powers, a wicked crescent that has set entire fleets to burn at need.

Within it...

"Hah! Capital!" They were a frail looking folk, large of head and unadorned by hair, clad in ornate garments of woven leather and arcane textiles. Richly adorned with jewels, each bearing the finest works of artifice his court could muster.

His guardians were somewhat less amused by this revelation, but they stoically stood at the foot of his throne, their arms held at attention on their side.

"I just knew we'd have a proper adventure if we simply took our time and waited!" He laughed, walking down the stairs and patting one of his bodyguards on the shoulder. "Oh but it's a wonderful thing to have a challenge once in a while, is it not?" He gestured widely, awaiting his court's assent to his whims.

He nodded, pleased at this, and stepped up, an ornate cane collected from the side of his throne.

"Announce to the system that Prince Anosis Sendai seeks a test of might with the locals!" He laughs. "Oh my, they'll all be so jealous when I return home--how many of them have had a chance to cross blades with the other folk of the galaxy?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[83]

The final arrival was simultaneously the least threatening--and yet the most concerning arrival of them all.

From the depths of the Warp--from the tides of souls, a single vessel emerged. Hull battered, scorched, and rent asunder. Not mere age was this, but a battle of titanic force that had brought a once proud servant of the Imperium to its knees.

On the bridge, Captain Martin Solheart stared at the system before, the bridge burned despite the best efforts of the serfs to contain the damage. He himself bore many a new scar, including a terrible plasma burn from a glancing strike at his brow, narrowly deflected by his helm before its destruction.

"How many..." He asks, weary. The Red-helmed Marine occupying the engineering console took a moment to consider.

"Thirty" he said. "We were able to recover another dozen as wounded from the final escape, but we do not know when they will recover--if they will recover."

"At least some survived" He sighed, and allowed himself to slouch. "Emperor forgive me, but they would not listen..."

He turned his gaze to the world ahead. "Set a course for the planet, I must have words with their patron."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four groups, each arriving in quick succession with one another. The limitations of light speed have prevented most from realizing the others are present--but this will not last.

You have time to contact two of them before this occurs, to seize advantage before they realize the true gravity of the events unfolding.

[ ] The Publicani Fleet
[ ] The Ancient Vessel
[ ] Prince Sendai's Expedition
[ ] The Azure Dragoons

We Are the Gods of a New World Order [Warhammer 50K ~ Warp God Simulator]

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Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

Alectai

Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion

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