The Liber Cluster

[Nomus Sardauk]

The Goshen Regiments sound great but one small thing I should mention, the Liber Cluster is very remote and actually separated from the rest of the Galaxy by a vast stretch of starless space known as the Abyss. So you probably wouldn't find a Regiment from around the Maelstrom in the Cluster, although you could easily make Goshen a world in the Cluster.

 

I'd suggest reading through the Introductory info posts on the 1st page if you haven't already, also if you check out Olis's post on Page 96 you can see the Star Map of the Cluster kindly made for us by Lucernius a while back: http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/292767-the-liber-cluster/page-96

 

Hopefully you'll find this useful and give a more clear picture of the Cluster and it's inhabitants. :)

[Olis]

One small critique - aren't executioner tanks rare? ^_^

[Sigismund229]

@Sanguiniusreborn: Oh woops. That's what happens when you try tying and reading at the same time.

 

@Oils: Well there's got to be at least a few workds that produce them right?

[Grey Hunter Ydalir]

Yes, but not many. Hence them being rare.

 

Increasing the rarity is the lack of proper infrastructure links to the rest of the Imperium, as was previously commented on in regards to the regiments place of origin.

 

If the tanks are rare in the wider Imperium, it'd likely count doubly so in an isolated region of space such as the Cluster.

[Teetengee]

I would suggest punisher tanks. They seem more in line with the "throw more of the same thing at the problem" strategy goshen seems to embody.

[Sigismund229]

Revised version

 

The world of Goshen and its "Mob" regiments

 

Colonised by the first wave of settler fleets to reach the Liberis cluster, Goshen, whatever it may once have been, is now a totally industrialised and urbanised world of great tower blocks that rise like spears through the industrial fog that floats over Goshen's cities like a death shroud. Within these towers, the population live miserable, automaton esc lives centres around the vast manufactories that form the core of Goshen's economy and never cease to function, belching thick black and grey clouds of smoke into the atmosphere. Above the planet, fleets of ships come to and fro, bringing in resources from across the cluster to fuel and feed Goshen's economy and population and departing carrying goods manufactured on Goshen and taking them to the farthest corners of the Liberis cluster.

 

The cramped plasteel corridoors of Goshen are home to over 300 billion humans of varying degrees of mutation. Packed like sardins in a tin amidst the towers, the ordinary citizen of Goshen knows nothing but work, sleep occasionaly indespersed with meals, gang warfare and drinking an alcohol made from the lubricant used for manufactorum machines. Each of these miserable beings is born into service of one of the Manufactorum Guilds, a serial number being tatooed at the base of their skull to make their deaths easier to number and file. Often obliged to work 18 to 24 hour shifts, the people of Goshen lead joyless lives,leading to high rates of suicide in addition to those who die of exhaustion or are shot by their overseers for slacking at work. However, with the populace frequently indulging in what little human pleasure they can find and the rulers of the Manufactory Guilds organizing breeding programs to ensure a steady supply of workers for their manufactories, the population of Goshen doesn't decrease, in fact it grows.

 

The main goods produced by Goshen are glow globes, lasguns, punisher battle tanks and rebreathers. While standards and emphasis shifts tempending upon the Manufactory Guild, these are the staples of Goshen's economy. Sold far and wide, the profits from the manufacture of these goods floods the coffers of Goshen's aristocracy with money, enabling them to live a sumptuos lifestyle which the majority of their workers can't even imagine. However, to distract the normal populace from this fact, the aristocracy frequently organize mutant hunts. The form these usually take is that an overseer will call for volounteers to descend into the depths of the world's tunnels and promise a bounty for every mutant's head returned. The first to volounteer are given a lasgun and sent down into the tunnels while any who are too slow are given several strikes with a stun baton for their trouble and then sent back to work.

 

The effects of industry are also starting to show in Goshen's atmosphere. Even filtered, the air of Goshen is so toxic that it will gradually blind any whose unprotected eyes are contacted by it while the rain of Goshen burns through your skin. Because of the toxicity of their world's atmosphere, almost all of Goshen's inhabitants wear overcoats, goggles and rebreathers constantly in order to protect them from the worst of the poisons that their air is infused with.

 

Yet despite the enormous manufactories it possesses, Goshen still, like all Imperial worlds, is obliged to send a tithe of Imperial Guardsmen to fight in the Emperor's name. The way this is normally done is that several work battalions will be chosen randomely and then press ganged into the Guard to make up the rank and file of the newly created regiments. Those who have participated in mutant hunts and survived are then promoted to sergeant or lieutenent while the higher up officers, colenols and captains, are drawn from te younger offspring of Goshen's nobility. Gene sculpted and heavily modified with bionics from birth, these leaders are a stark contrast to the troops they command. Whereas the rank and file's uniforms are simple, often just their greatcoats and rebreathers that they were conscripted in, their officers wear elaborate uniforms and suits of carapace armour that are tailor made to fit the young noblemen and are richly adorned with gold braid and filigree. Where the troopers only possess a lasgun with a couple of power packs, their officers use the finest weapons their families could buy.

 

The general tactics employed by the Goshen "Mob" regiments differ little from regiment to regiment. In almost all cases, they involve simply throwing wave after wave of troopers into battle until the enemy is ground down to nothing. As one Goshen colenol said "I would happily sacrifice three billion men in the defence of any world. The Imperium only has one of any given world. Their are plenty more scum in Goshen's lower hives".

[Sigismund229]

Sterunite "Corpse Hunters"

 

       Settled in the early 35th millenium, the world of Sterunas was colonized just as Imperial forces were beginning to push the orks out of the Liberis Cluster. While most originally thought it would become an agri world, it was instead, over the course of centuries, transformed into a cemetery world. As the corpses of millions of Imperial Guardsmen were transported back to Sterunas, they were quickly buried upon the world in makeshift graves. While this was only ever meant to be a temporary expedient, it gradually became permanent with the world of Sterunas becoming a memorial to the sacrifice of the Imperial Guardsmen who had died to liberate the Liberis cluster. However, so many bodies were buried upon the world that the population gradually was forced off of their farmland in order to make space for fresh graves to be dug and in an act of bureaucratic idiocy, the Administratum failed to reroute supplies for the world or vessels to transport the population away from the world and so the humans living on Sterunas was forced to resort to digging up fresh graves and eating the decaying flesh. Over the course of generations, this became a way of life for the population of Sterunas and when the Imperial Guard stopped sending corpses to Sterunas, the population began to hunt the only animals they could find on the planet: each other. 

 

       The populace of Sterunas now ekes out a living amidst the grave stones and monuments of their home world, running each other down and eating their victims flesh. Millenia of doing this has led to the populace developing teeth more suited to ripping and tearing at flesh as well as the ability to eat raw flesh, at the expense of their capabilities as omnivores. Lacking any resources to mine, agriculture to exploit or industry with which to produce goods, Sterunas has just one commodity with which it can pay its tithe to the Emperor: people. 

 

      It's from this that the regiments of Sterunite "Corpse Hunters" originate. Equipped as light infantry, these regiments are able to track their foes with unerring accuracy and survive behind enemy lines without supplies for extended periods of time(due largely to their eating of their own dead rather than ration packs). In addition to this, they are ferocious close quarters fighters(indeed there have been instances recorded, although rare, of Sterunite regiments charging headlong into hordes of orks and emerging victorious).

[Teetengee]

So I didn't die, and my story isn't over, it ballooned, as I had feared.

However, I am still working on it concurrently with ETL so it will be done.

[Olis]

Time's up, brothers. If you have something, post it up. The unfinished accounts will be handled by me (and Ace if he has the time) during this year's ETL. 

 

Here is how is all stands for the moment:

 

 

Helfen -  Aetheric Swords + All Seers   Olis (DONE... mostly)
Caecus - Blackjaw Kindred + Doomsayers   Teetengee
Naxa Secundus + Ogris - Black Judges + Conflagrators   Ace Debonair (DONE)
Unnamed planet - Eagles of Glory + Lords Inviolate   Reyner
Unnamed planet - Iron Ravagers + Angels Exultant   Wade Garrett
Thravis Prime Round 2 - Scarlet Sentinels + Heralds of Letum   Conn Eremon
Zavatista Round 2 (Optional) - Blades of the Lion + Black Falcons   SanguiniusReborn  (IN PROGRESS)

 

[Ace Debonair]

Just posting to confirm that Ace has the time.  

[Nomus Sardauk]

 

Time's up, brothers. If you have something, post it up. The unfinished accounts will be handled by me (and Ace if he has the time) during this year's ETL. 

 

Here is how is all stands for the moment:

 

 

Helfen -  Aetheric Swords + All Seers   Olis (DONE... mostly)

Caecus - Blackjaw Kindred + Doomsayers   Teetengee

Naxa Secundus + Ogris - Black Judges + Conflagrators   Ace Debonair (DONE)

Unnamed planet - Eagles of Glory + Lords Inviolate   Reyner

Unnamed planet - Iron Ravagers + Angels Exultant   Wade Garrett

Thravis Prime Round 2 - Scarlet Sentinels + Heralds of Letum   Conn Eremon

Zavatista Round 2 (Optional) - Blades of the Lion + Black Falcons   SanguiniusReborn  (IN PROGRESS)

 

 

 

Uhh, that table's incorrect, I finished mine a little while back. I did announce it but I'm not sure anyone noticed:

 

Apologies for the double post but...

 

 

 

 

The Second Battle of Zavatista is done! Hurrah! Just in case anyone forgot what page it's on you can find it on Page 96. Let me know what you guys think. 

[Olis]

My apologies, brother. Fixed: 

 

 

 

Helfen -  Aetheric Swords + All Seers   Olis (DONE... mostly)
Caecus - Blackjaw Kindred + Doomsayers   Teetengee
Naxa Secundus + Ogris - Black Judges + Conflagrators   Ace Debonair (DONE)
Unnamed planet - Eagles of Glory + Lords Inviolate   Reyner
Unnamed planet - Iron Ravagers + Angels Exultant   Wade Garrett
Thravis Prime Round 2 - Scarlet Sentinels + Heralds of Letum   Conn Eremon
Zavatista Round 2 (Optional) - Blades of the Lion + Black Falcons   SanguiniusReborn  (DONE)

 

[Nomus Sardauk]

Much obliged Olis.

[Teetengee]

My story started to balloon horribly, so I have popped it with imperial redactions. Hopefully it still holds together well enough. This story was really a mess, because I couldn't add too much or be too explicit but also not too vague, in order to create the right feel, and I just didn't really have time. Still here goes:

Hidden Content

Missive to Lathe, Javro, source: ---REDACTED---

 

Greetings Inquisitors Lathe and Javro. The historical truths of Caecus involving the Doomsayer’s ambush of the Lions intending to use it as a refueling point after the loss of Zavatista are well documented. They were hidden beneath the clouds and used the locals’ signalling techniques to coordinate a planet wide strike at the refueling operations as soon as they began. The complete rout of Sereiki forces was instrumental in starving the Lions’ supply methods and forcing their costly reconquest of Zavatista. However, my studies have uncovered troubling documentation of some of the efforts of Squad Barbus and Cadre Octave’s reconnaissance mission aimed at discovering the location of any undercloud enemy strongholds. I had to engage the services of three historo-savants in order to piece together a narrative of what unfolded. I will have them replaced for you at my next requisitioning visit to New Portilla. What now follows is the results of their information.

 

Having felt the Blackjaw Wodnan Geraud’s hand on his shoulder, Brother Marruv paused before taking his first step into the foul fogs of Caecus. “Dere are places e’en daemons do not go, and not all a dem ah been touched by da grace a da Nine. We know naught o what sleeps beneat dese stinkin’ mists but deat. Take care, Doomsaya.”

 

“You can keep your concerns Geraud. The only doom we’ll find below is that of our enemies.” The Terminator clad lieutenant Evikri strode uncaring into the mists. “And they call us Doomsayers. Enough brooding. Everyone, march.”

 

Twelve heavily armoured forms stepped into the mists, the second half making quick prayers to Vulkan as they passed into its murky depths. The group travelled down in near silence, forms shrouded in the soft green glow of whatever light could penetrate through the gas. As they travelled deeper, structures began to rise from the mists, half formed in the thick atmosphere until the marines stood right before them. They were of vaguely imperial design, but lacked any recognizable iconography, just deep gouges and pockmarks from years of vicious storms.

 

The marines went as a group, their mission was purely to get information on what lay below the surface of the fuel clouds, to test the truth of a rumoured Sereiki stronghold. Doomsayer ships lay hidden on rocky outcroppings all over the planet, prepared to engage any Lions forces that retreated to Caecus following the burning of Zavatista. Captain Temaz had also given orders to drive off any Conflagrator ships that attempted to enter the atmosphere. The Doomsayers had no intention of letting another valuable world burn.

 

“Vandaleur,” said Sebastien of Cadre Octave as they passed through the hall of an abandoned cathedral, “We are losing communication with the surface. The interference has grown since entering these clouds, and I can no longer guarantee timely reinforcements if we should need them.”

 

“Very well,” Evikri said with only a hint of reluctance, “Spread out and keep your eyes open, I want to make sure we see them before they see us. Maintain vox silence unless absolutely necessary.”

 

At the lieutenant’s command, the marines of both chapters spread out through the cathedral, moving carefully forward and scanning potential hiding spaces with their guns. Beauchamp’s plasma coils began to glow as he primed the venerable weapon, bedecked in talismans of appeasement.

 

The ever thickening fog muffled the sounds of their descent. Buildings began to take on more heretically organic shapes. Metal forms flowed through each other in strange ornaments that would have set the teeth of lesser beings on edge. Every building the marines searched was empty for three hours down. Twice had marines thought they had seen movement only to find simply the shadows cast by unfamiliar curves.

 

Twenty seven minutes into their fourth hour, Beauchamp pushed open a door, worn tight by weather and time. Within he saw a pile of skeletons: metal and misshapen. “I’ve found the mark of war,” he said over the vox as he entered.

 

Upon closer examination, the skeletons proved to be those of mutants or xenos kin. Few had fewer than five limbs, and their skulls were bulbous with many eye sockets. Large metal fangs protruded from distended jawbones, some split as a snake’s. Beauchamp crept closer and noted that these skeletons were pockmarked and scored with age. Whatever had killed them had done so long ago.

 

As Beauchamp moved further into the vast building, it finally occurred to him that the mist was following him in. The building had been sealed to the worst of the vast cloud cover of Caecus, even if unprotected passage would still be rapidly lethal. Any importance of that fact left his mind as he entered a large throne room. Across the hall, sitting in the steel seat was the unmistakable outline of an astartes. Across its lap lay a two handed sword, the blade a foot in breadth and thick, more a club than a cutting weapon in light of its heavily weathered condition. Moving closer, Beauchamp saw that the armour had no insignia of any kind, the whole was bare ceramite and power cabling, likely rubbed raw by the caustic cloud before being placed here.

 

A crunching noise revealed to Beauchamp that his approach had stopped being along the tiled floor and was now across a small sea of skeletons, a mix of metal and bone, and every one unnaturally shaped and damaged by a heavy weapon. When he looked back up, the head of the seated marine stared at him, a faint glow leaking out from its lenses.

 

Beauchamp brought up his bolter and advanced. “Who do you fight for?” The unknown marine just stared at him, head turning slowly to keep up. “Who are you? Respondez!” Beauchamp stood before the seated warrior; his bolter tapped against his target’s helmet with a clink.

 

“I fight so that death shalt not take me. What calamity has brought you into these accursed clouds, after I have sat still for so many years?”

 

“Reclamation of worlds due to the Nine and Him above.”

 

“Then turn around adept. I know not what gods you believe in, but they have forsaken this place. It is owned only by the Watcher and guarded by Those Who Walk in Shadow. It is their city lies below, but you will gain nothing save death from meeting its denizens. You should flee this place, before they sense your presence, and before the silence takes you, if it is not already too late.”

 

“Your warning is well understood, but we cannot leave, our duty is far more important than our lives. We have made our peace with Vulkan. Why do you sit here, surely the creatures of which you speak could have found you here if they could have stopped your return to the surface?”

 

“Quite so, adept. My power pack has become unhooked, and the environment is still too dangerous for me to remove my armour enough to reach it. I had managed to seal this place and set up a filter from some of the old machinery strewn through the nearby wastes. It wasn’t perfect, but given enough time in stasis, it would have allowed me sufficient time to be exposed to repair the damage. Unfortunately, you have opened the floodgates wide.”

 

Beauchamp, feeling the consequences of his actions, spoke, “Can you direct me in fixing your suit?”

 

“Yes,” with that, the figure gripped tightly to the sides of the steel throne and muscled his way into the air. Decades if not centuries of settled dust billowed from his lower body in a cloud as his blade clattered to the floor. As he stepped down from the dias, he limped and stumbled as an old man too proud for a cane. He turned his back to Beauchamp, and Beauchamp mag-locked his bolter to his back. “I believe the problem to be slight, some power cables unhooked by xenos claws.”

 

Beauchamp nealt and began plugging power cables back into their appropriate sockets under the marine’s supervision, noticing the scores and burns pockmarking the his armour. “You never did give me your name, warrior. Mine is Beauchamp, of the Blackjaw Kindred.”

 

“Zonderd,” the rest of his response, if any, was drowned out by the coughing start of his power armour. A cloud of black burnt dust was ejected from his exhaust ports as they spun into life.. Zonderd turned back up the dias and reached behind the throne, fishing out a boarding shield decorated with the relief of a bird’s head over crossed lightning bolts. “I may well owe my life to you, Beauchamp. Point me at your enemies and spend it well.”

 

***

When Beauchamp and Zonderd returned to the entrance, Beauchamp opened a private channel to Wodnan Geraud.

 

“Wodnan, I have found someone who may be able to help.” The signal was cutting in and out as they travelled through the fog.

 

“I’ll come to you, stay dere Beauchamp.”

 

Beauchamp spoke to Zonderd, “Wait here, my Wodnan is coming to meet us, you would probably know him as a Librarian.”

 

Zonderd nodded in assent, keeping a watchful eye on their heavily obscured surroundings.

 

A sudden movement brought both marines to attention, weapons at the ready.

 

“Declare yourself,” shouted Beauchamp.

 

“Marruv,” came a shout, before he walked into the clearing, bolter trained on Zonderd, “Who is your compatriot?”

 

“His name is Zonderd. He has information for us of what lies below. Geraud is coming to test him.”

 

“And if he kills Geraud? How do you know he is not an Untaken plant, here for vengeance for Zavitista? I see no markings of allegiance.”

 

“You kill me then, Marruv, if you can,” Zonderd said it quietly, forcing the others to stop to listen. “I have no ill will towards you, but if you will not trust me then you should kill me, assuming you think you can win. I warn you though, I will not pull any punches; I have no intention of dying down here.”

 

Marruv lifted his bolter, aiming at Zonderd’s helmet. All three marines stood still, no one wanting to begin what surely would end in bloodshed. Finally, Marruv lowered his weapon. “I do not trust you, but I do not want to lose a potential ally either. I am voxing Lieutenant Evikri, he will consult with Geraud and decide your fate.”

 

“I suggest they do so quickly then, as the things which prowl these mists will not give up our scent easily should they find us.” Zonderd paced about while they waited, seemingly unable to be still after his long hibernation.

 

The three marines stood at an uneasy distance until the remainder of their team located them. Communications had deteriorated and the arrival of the remaining ten used substantial time. A circle gradually formed around Zonderd until at last Geraud stepped into it, the whole of the operation assembled.

 

Zonderd stilled as Geraud spoke, “I am going to ask questions. You ‘a no need to answer dem; I’ll know.”

 

“Oo do ya fight foa? Ow long a dey known da embrace a deat? Do ya intend to do us any peril?”

 

---REDACTED BY ][ DECREE---

 

Sebastien turned on his vidcorder to document the strange machinery the group was moving through. The metal seemed to be grown rather than forged, flowing in heretically organic forms. Attempts to destroy them seemed to be a waste of ammunition, as damage they dealt quickly repaired itself, the metal shards mostly sliding along the walls and floors back into position. Any sort of permanent solution would require far more powerful ordinance than was at their current disposal.

 

The machinery itself was built into the walls. In fact, it was closer to cave system or some creature’s intestines than any sensible building. The floors were uneven, unlevel, and frequently strewn with power cabling. As they traversed deeper into the structure, Sebastien saw a sickly green glowing light down the tunnels. The walls were laced with some sort of glowing crystal, evenly spaced and producing light, but no warmth.

 

 

Turning a corner, Sebastien saw what this portion of the machinery was powering. Scattered groupings of semi-translucent amber sacs filled the cavern. Most were no larger than a large dog, but there were still many that could have enclosed a marine, some even a battle tank.

 

Sebastien moved in to gain a closer look. Floating in a nearby clutch were several chitinous creatures with six legs and long tails. They had several sets of eyes and jagged teeth, Occasionally one would jerk, propelling itself softly into the flexible casing of what could only be an artificial egg sac. Sebastien lifted his bolter

 

---REDACTED---

 

Zonderd stood at precipice. Sebastien’s communications array crudely affixed to his power pack. Beauchamp, Marruv, Vandaleur LaCroix, and Lieutenant Evikri stood further back, Marruv filling cracks in his right arm with mud to seal out the caustic atmosphere.

 

Zonderd spoke, “Lieutenant, you need to see this.”

 

Evikri limped forward, the servos in his left leg frozen in position after the hydraulic tubes had been slashed. Over the ledge he saw a vast city, glowing green with lights and humming with activity. At eye level with them, massive mechanical devices sped along the metallic ceiling, at each stop cycling down to the city and making an adjustment; sometimes the larger ones picked up whole buildings to rearrange the world below.

 

 

Directly beneath them stood a massive crowd of walking figures in thousands of rings about a small pit. Pipes throughout the space, but concentrated here, pumped gas out into the atmosphere, the source of the Caecan fuel clouds. Every minute one of the hooded figures would walk into the pit. There would be a flash of chitin or flesh covered limbs and then the being would disappear. A great bell rang out with each fall, and the walkers pointed to the center of their spiral.

 

“We go down. We will stop this foul heresy with the blood of those who work it.” Evikri said it coldly, knowing full well the suicidal nature of his order.

 

As the five remaining marines scaled the rocky wall they began to notice more about the ritual beneath them. Tall stalking skeletons of dark metal and with long scything claws stalked among the sacrifices, occasionally picking one up and dropping it in the center. These were taken with no ceremony, and no response from the beings making their deathmarch. Additionally, the mismatched rates of movement finally made sense once the marines were close enough to see the surface upon which the multitudes walked. It was a vast spiral treadmill, moved by the feet of those who walked it as they spent their last, ever replaced by a steady stream from the city.

 

LaCroix said over the vox,”That is no mere millstone machine, it is a mouth, and the clouds of Caecus are its offgas.”

 

The marines landed in shadow several hundred meters from the edge of the spinning engine of death. The walls and floor down there were covered in strange lines and unfamiliar angular runes.

They looked back at the cliff they had scaled and noticed a recessed chamber, invisible from above. Within it was a space that seemed at odds with reality, it was the wrong scale, the detail too crisp, the depth too far. At its center was a pyramid, at its top a seated being, hooded and at once both incredibly small and impossibly large. It lifted a vast metal finger, pointing to the pit, and another figure walked into the end.

 

“Quietly now. LaCroix, you have the greatest demolitions experience,”

 

---REDACTED---

 

Their escape had cost them dearly. Only Zonderd, Marruv, and Beauchamp remained, and only Zonderd without serious injury. The maze they were traversing was clearly designed by the insane. It spiraled and collapsed on itself in ways that it hurt Marruv to contemplate. Still, the clouds were getting progressively thinner now, so they were at least moving in a coherent direction. Beauchamp prayed to the Khan that the direction was above the thickest point, and not below.

 

---REDACTED---

 

I hope that helps in your decisions regarding the Ordos Xenos report 4592.88852AOP17. Please let me know if I can be of further assistance.

 

The Emperor Protects,

---REDACTED---

Also, Captain Nameless, if you want to include your vidcaps at some point, that would be fantastic.

[Teetengee]

Sterunite "Corpse Hunters"

 

    -snip-

Neat concept, but two nitpicks. First, Liber, not Liberis. Second, a society couldn't survive like that for more than a few years without some sort of influx of material/energy, it violates the second law of thermodynamics.

[Captain Nameless]

+Pict-capture of sketching found during Caecus mission. Appears to be of xenos ritual chamber. Possibly indicative of locals knowledge of xenos presence.+

+Recovering Astartes armor vid-capture....+

Edit: +Vid-capture from armor of Doomsayer astartes, designate 'Marruv', retrieval in progress...+

I'll update this drawing as I work on it.

[Barbatos]

Can I throw my raider marines into the ring?

[helterskelter]

Was the situation between the Doomsayers and blackjaw kindred resolved between this event and the boarding action that soured the relationship some?

I may have missed it lol

[Nomus Sardauk]

Was the situation between the Doomsayers and blackjaw kindred resolved between this event and the boarding action that soured the relationship some?

I may have missed it lol

If I recall it was the final straw for the Kindred who sent a suicide bomber to deliver an explosive condemnation of the present Doomsayers, Conflagrators & Mechanicus officials for basically treating the Kindred like :cuss for centuries before the entire Chapter flips the bird to the Imperials and completely disappear, including their homeworld's population.

[Olis]

As things stand:

 

Helfen -  Aetheric Swords + All Seers   Olis (DONE... mostly)
Caecus - Blackjaw Kindred + Doomsayers   Teetengee (DONE)
Naxa Secundus + Ogris - Black Judges + Conflagrators   Ace Debonair (DONE)
Unnamed planet - Eagles of Glory + Lords Inviolate   Reyner (UNFINISHED)
Unnamed planet - Iron Ravagers + Angels Exultant   Wade Garrett (UNFINISHED)
Thravis Prime Round 2 - Scarlet Sentinels + Heralds of Letum   Conn Eremon (UNFINISHED)
Zavatista Round 2 (Optional) - Blades of the Lion + Black Falcons   SanguiniusReborn  (DONE)

 

 

This leaves three accounts to divvy up between me and Ace.

 

@ Ace - Brother, as I imagine it, I'll take one story and so will you (your choice of the remaining three) which then leaves the final story for whoever finishes first. I'll be aiming for the middle of June to get the first story done. Sound good? 

 

Once these stories are done with, I suggest a hiatus until the end of the ETL and then we shall move on with a brand new thread. All in favour?

[Ace Debonair]

This leaves three accounts to divvy up between me and Ace.

 

@ Ace - Brother, as I imagine it, I'll take one story and so will you (your choice of the remaining three) which then leaves the final story for whoever finishes first. I'll be aiming for the middle of June to get the first story done. Sound good?

 

Sounds good.

Which story are you going for?

 

 

Was the situation between the Doomsayers and blackjaw kindred resolved between this event and the boarding action that soured the relationship some?

I may have missed it lol

If I recall it was the final straw for the Kindred who sent a suicide bomber to deliver an explosive condemnation of the present Doomsayers, Conflagrators & Mechanicus officials for basically treating the Kindred like for centuries before the entire Chapter flips the bird to the Imperials and completely disappear, including their homeworld's population.

 

After this wave of battles is dealt with, I intend to write a small piece in which the Aetheric Swords send a small party (Maybe five marines at most, but all of them of some seniority and importance to the Chapter) in search of the Blackjaw Kindred, in an attempt to talk things out without further bloodshed or misunderstanding.

 

I doubt they'll be successful, of course.

For starters, I suspect the Blackjaws will not be so easily placated - it's not like the Swords actually carry any authority over the other Chapters, after all.

 

But regardless of whether or not the Swords can convince the Kindred to return to the fold, it is absolutely vital for future developments within the Chapter that the Aetheric Swords at least make the attempt.

 

Ideally, they'll even be the first to do so, while everyone else is still at the Conclave, ranting and raving about treachery and heresy, and the Lords Inviolate are still struggling to get everyone else under control.

 

 

EDIT:

 

Of course, the above idea can wait until after we've got the EWC and the rest of the thread sorted out.

I'm just planning things out in advance a little.

[Olis]

Which story are you going for?

 

Ah, giving me the first choice, eh? I'll go for the account assigned to Reyner. That leaves you with either Conn's or Wade's.

[Ace Debonair]

Tough choice, but I think it's the Ravagers and Angels for me, on the basis I can also indulge in a little more world building.

 

 

...What was the word count guideline again?

[Olis]

I... can't remember. :lol:

 

Somewhere between a thousand and two thousand should be fine. 

[Ace Debonair]

Duly noted.

I'll have a go at piecing a story together for this as soon as I next have the free time.