BotL - Monthly fluff challenge

[MikhalLeNoir]

With 4 days left, there is still time to get in some submissions. 

 

The Harbingers are the final Legion to be placed in the Monthly Fluff challenge, and therefore no vote is necessary.

 

After the Harbingers, we will do a non-Legion force and renegotiate our Fluff challenge schedule.

 

Are they....!!!!!?

[Kelborn]

Oh Simi...you missed someone. ;)

[simison]

Oops! I blame cruise!

 

So, it can either be Harbingers or Wardens of Light! Voting begins now!

[Kelborn]

I mean, it's Christmas. And isn't Christmas about bling (at least partially :P).

 

Harbringers would be a good chance to do some additional stuff for the coming Red Book No. 1 release.

 

My vote: WoL

[MikhalLeNoir]

My vote harbingers to get the book 1 finished

[simison]

Wardens of Light - 1

Harbingers - 1

[Demus Ragnok]

How about Harbingers.

[simison]

My 'The Ashen Cult' wins November.

 

Harbingers for December, Wardens of Light to herald the new year, and a non-Legion will show up in February. 

 

Although Blunt does have preferences (that he should post in this thread), I want to emphasize that narratives will be considered for the upcoming Harbingers red book. 

[simison]

Blunt, I'd like to write a story in-between the Legion Organization and Legion History chapters. I'm thinking of portraying a meeting between two of the lesser orders of the Astral College. How does that sound to you?

[bluntblade]

I like that. I suggest using the Madrigalan setting hard and selling the technological aesthetic

[Beren]

Techmarine Hishto Sissietan

 

Sissietan was a close subordinate of Goro Amakune. While he could not come close to matching his superior’s expertise in most fields, he was known to have some knowledge regarding the creations of the Thunder King. It is believed that he began to theorise upon the nature and creation of such things early on in his tenency, writing early dissitations around the Thunderchild and Hands of Ikoru. His theoretical expertise was enough to earn him the honour of accompanying Amakune on several expeditions. It would however appear that at some point he overstepped his bounds, for it is unlikely he took on the assignment of Stormwatcher willingly when it would take him far from the relics he sought to inspect.

 

The Stormwatchers were a small cadre of the Ist Legion designated to the observation of planets that had in the past been cleansed by the Ghost Crusade and were now deemed suitable for colonisation or exploration. They task force was to investigate any phenomena that could be related to these planet’s original fall and nullify them. Upon occassions where a situation might risk spiralling out of control reinforcements could be drawn from their own Legion or, upon occassion, the Sisters of Silence. Hishto is can be confirmed- in a limited sense of the word- to have partook in at least seven extractions of potentially warp related technology. His depiction here is drawn from the last of these, in which a stasis capsule can be seen attached to the modified Mark III armour he bears.

 

Shortly before the Insurrection Hishto would be withdrawn to Madrigal for purposes that can only be presumed to relate to the caches of archeotech from the old tyrant's vaults that became increasingly present within the Harbringers. The full extent of Sissietan’s participation in this process of retrieval is uncertain, but a few examples retrieved from the battlefield show evidence of his technique, if not his direct handiwork.

Edited January 10, 2019 by Beren

[Beren]

Caged Lightning

 

Ahead, the Magos’ lumen globe gradually revealed the path ahead. Inch by inch, glinting of the Tech-Priest’s frame as it did so, the pallid light revealed yet more of the pitted hallway. Stone that bore the marks of age and violence alike, great gouges torn out of its flanks as if it were prey that had been savaged by some vicious beast. It was a matter that concerned the Explorators greatly, hence the Skitarii on either side, their robes rustling with their movement, and the servo-skulls that plunged into the gloom ahead. Hishto Sissietan did not share such concerns. Such things were gone long ago, their price paid in the blood of his brothers. It was silent here, he reflected. Other than the ever present echoes brought forth by his companions. Silence.

 

The caverns back home were not silent. There was always a sense of... life. Not life. Endurace. Persistence. Sleeping. That crackling, just on the edge of your hearing. The flickering lights dancing between pillars and consoles. Flashing there, then gone. Racing across rooms in the bat of an eye. Fast enough that a mortal might not believe they were there in the first place. The Techmarine had seen though. There had been things of great beauty there. Weapons waiting to be wielded once more. Relics waiting to be awoken. The lightning of Madrigal caged, bound, shaped by the war-savants of ancient times. Lunatics all of them. The walls there had been marked by battle too.

 

Here he was the Mechanicum’s guest, in a sense of the term. The Magos had not glanced back once. Even though he was linked to his servo-skulls and most likely had every millimetre of the route stored in his cogitators, he did not turn back. The metre between them showed no sign of widening nor contracting. Walking, walking, through the fathomless gloom. The Skitarii maintained their pace, weapons trained on the occasional aperture from which they might be ambushed. The Lightning Bearer wondered whether it was the diligence of their programming, or some deep seated sense of unease that made them so wary.

 

Eventually they came to a portal both grander and more desolate than the rest. The bare remnants of carved pillars could be seen bordering it. Torn away. Crumbled by time or smashed in moments. He stopped an inch short of the Tech-Priest’s back. Servo Skulls,then the Skitarii, then him. The Magos followed after. Strange, that the Explorators had not left the site guarded.

 

Inside, the same carvings were present. Even shattered they seemed to writhe and contort. Most were obscured, partially obliterated by the wrothful violence inflicted upon them. Others were just visible enough for one to wish they weren’t. Eight doorways in total. A Skitarii posted at each one, which left two more to his rear. Despite this - the hieroglyphs, the doorways, the sentries and their silent master - Hishto’s gaze gravitated swiftly towards what lay at the chamber’s epicentre. Technological surely, yet…

 

Kneeling in the rust hued stain that surrounded the device, the Techmarine moved slowly, every movement considered. It gleamed as if freshly polished, the inscriptions upon it bearing not a single scratch. Pristine in a place long ago savaged and slain.

 

A wet, hacking rasp. For a second the chamber distorted it, assaulting it and twisting it. In a fraction of that second Sissietan’s hand had slid to his holter as his helmed head snapped back. Another second and the two Skitarii’s weapons were levelled as one. The robed bundle of knotted flesh and dull steel between them continued to rasp in his biological voice, by which point Sissietan’s gauntlet was removed from his holster. Likewise, the cyborgs removed the aim of their firearms from his silhouette.

 

“You have recorded such devices prior.”

 

A brief statement, no doubt one that originated from a detailed analysis of his posture and movements since they first entered the room. Doubly impressive, given that the Lightning Bearer still had his helmet affixed.

 

“Yes.”

 

The third of this kind to be precise. Not counting the wonders of Madrigal. There were similarities between them perhaps. Things bound, caged and shaped. But not the lightning of his home. Twisted things, bloody things. Things that raged and plotted and deceived even from their prisons. He had used to think that power never corrupted, only amplified. Give a hundred petty gang leaders weapons, armies,and the intelligence to use them and you would have a hundred tyrants that posed a threat to the dominion of the Imperium. Such was the Thunder King. Such was Tokawa, who sought to take up the old nightmare’s tools for his own ends. Give those same things to their counterparts, the just and the worthy, and you would have a hundred lords fit to lead humanity into a new age of light. His lord, Icarion Anasem, had proved it. The weapons he bore to war from the Thunder Vaults proved it. The weapons that sang eagerly for their companions, still bound in the place of their making beneath Madrigal’s mountains.

 

It was the third. The third that had made him question the very beliefs that saw him cast into this forsaken duty. Their power amplified, but the havoc wrought, the blood that had been spilt. Was it truly the wielder’s traits that had been amplified, or those of the twisted things chained within? No. Similarities only. These were not the relics of his home.

 

The device was stowed securely. The thing now twice bound, once by the artifact and once by his stasis canister. As for his host, the servant of the Machine God had not been the only one capable of reading signs. His reluctance to share his findings with his colleagues, the increasing anomalies within his routines. His fellows might question his disappearance after a while, but his absences had become longer and longer anyway. With the chamber collapsed and his neural circuitry reduced to a smear entombed within there would be little further risk of contamination. The two Skitarii were not given grace to respond. The Magos died without a word, synthetic or organic. The servo-skulls too. The sentries remained facing outwards, guns levelled at the darkness. One by one they fell without once beginning to turn away from the shadows. Yet another irrationality. Sissietan had been accused of the same obsessions. It was why he was here, not wandering the halls of his home. They were not the same.

 

They were not.

Edited December 24, 2018 by Beren

[bluntblade]

Ist Legion Praetor

Sentinel Goemon Yanoda

Fifth Maniple

 

Goemon Yanoda was recruited from Kihara, a void enclave in the Madrigal Sphere. Established in the system of the same name, early on in the development of the Sphere, Kihara grew into a powerful polity in its own right and a source of many aspirants for the Ist Legion. Its culture diverged little from Madrigal's, and thus Yanoda’s Mk II “Crusade” armour is a typical example of Lightning Bearers warplate. The only notable divergence from the norm is his power maul, which he carries here along with a master-crafted bolt pistol.

 

Yanoda bore this panoply of war for over a century as Fifth Sentinel, commanding large forces of Lightning Bearers independently and fighting in the Vremalkyr Incursion and Koloss Syntheticide under Icarion. However, when the Stormlord started to plot his betrayal of the Emperor, Yanoda was singled out as too close to leading figures among the Scions Hospitalier and Iron Bears, and therefore all too likely to oppose his Primarch’s rebellion.

 

A war against the Khrave served the cover for Yanoda’s removal, conducted jointly with the Eagle Warriors. At the height of the battle, a group of especially powerful Khrave split Yanoda from the bulk of his warriors, and the Sentinel was slain before the xenos were driven back. It has been conjectured that the killer was not in fact one of the future Harbingers, such was the esteem in which they held Yanoda, but in fact Huetic Xiutel of the Eagle Warriors, who had shared command with him. Decades later, the continuing influence of the XIIIth Legion on the Fifth Maniple would bear further infamy.

Edited December 20, 2018 by bluntblade

[simison]

[Neither are finished.]

 

The Colleges

 

Daigo did not need his ruined eyes to understand how dire his situation was. The very air thrummed with a hundred war cries as the Orks readied another assault. Daigo could only sense nineteen of his brethren alive and strong. He could not count the Greenskins. Their bestial energy was a thick fog to his astral vision. Worse, the fog grew thicker as the Orks worked themselves into a frenzy, a prelude to the next attack. Blind as Diago was, the sheer size of the fog declared how painfully outnumbered they were. It was doubtful that even he, standing tall in terminator plate, would survive.

 

Daigo was unconcerned.

 

As a proper Legionary of the First Legion, Daigo would never disgrace himself by displaying anything other than discipline and grace in the face of death. It was the First Legion's role to serve as an example for the entirety of the Legiones Astartes to aspire to and to inspire the greater Imperium. Daigo could not contemplate any action or stance that might tarnish that meticulously maintained reputation.

 

Not that Daigo's death was preordained.

 

With their throats uniting into a single, gargatuan battle cry, the Orks surged forward to their thin line of ceramite. Daigo raised his twin volkite chargers as he waited for them to enter into weapon range. Aiming would not be much of an issue. The Angels of Death held the entrance to a mountainous pass, a miniature valley between high rock walls. Although over fifty metres wide, it was narrow enough to force the Orks to gather into a single mass, allowing only a sliver of the Orks to open fire. It was the reason the Space Marines had been able to hold so long with so few numbers. 

 

Withdrawal would have been preferable were it not for the objective. Behind Daigo was a supply depot responsible for maintaining the Imperium's momentum in this zone. He and his brothers had been ordered to prevent any harm falling upon it. So, they held. 

 

The Orks fired first as the undisciplined horde was wont to do. Most of these first shots missed as they were still outside effective range. A rare round pinged off armour as the Legionaries bided their time. Ippaku's heavy bolter was the first to reply. With thunderous detonations, the foremost Orks exploded in blood and limbs.

 

On they came. 

 

The smaller bolters were next as they provided the majority of the firepower. Though weaker, the bolts were strong enough to pierce the pathetic excuse of what the Orks deemed 'armour' and quickly outpaced the lone heavy bolter in kills. 

 

Still, on they came. 

 

The enemy fire jumped into a storm as every Ork eagerly sought their lives. Lacking cover, the Legionaries could, at most, was strafe side to side to make it harder for the Greenskins to concentrate fire. Rounds dented ceramite, scoured paint, and, periodically, punched through. Next to Daigo, a brother grunted as a lucky shot pierced a joint, bright red spilling onto white metal. 

 

Finally, Daigo and his two companions of the Blue Volta added martian beams to the volleys. 

 

~~~

 

Kitsune of the Golden Blossom

 

Although the First Legion was famed for their poise and grace, not all of their members fit into this familiar mold. While the Praxis could be less refined, few gleefully flouted these social conventions as did the Kitsune of the Golden Blossom. This minor college of the Harbingers rarely numbered more than a few thousand Legionaries. Yet, they often possessed a presence in much greater proportion to their few numbers. The Kitsune combined the divination the First Legion excelled at with a blazing talent for pyromancy.

Edited December 25, 2018 by simison

[simison]

Wardens of Light next month.

[simison]

[Complete draft]

 

The Colleges

 

Daigo did not need his ruined eyes to understand how dire his situation was. The very air thrummed with a hundred war cries as the Orks readied another assault. Daigo could only sense nineteen of his brethren alive and strong. He could not count the Greenskins. Their bestial energy was a thick fog to his astral vision. Worse, the fog grew thicker as the Orks worked themselves into a frenzy, a prelude to the next attack. Blind as Diago was, the sheer size of the fog declared how painfully outnumbered they were. It was doubtful that even he, standing tall in terminator plate, would survive.

 

Daigo was unconcerned.

 

As a proper Legionary of the First Legion, Daigo would never disgrace himself by displaying anything other than discipline and grace in the face of death. It was the First Legion's role to serve as an example for the entirety of the Legiones Astartes to aspire to and to inspire the greater Imperium. Daigo could not contemplate any action or stance that might tarnish that meticulously maintained reputation.

 

Not that Daigo's death was preordained.

 

With their throats uniting into a single, gargatuan battle cry, the Orks surged forward to their thin line of ceramite. Daigo raised his twin volkite chargers as he waited for them to enter into weapon range. Aiming would not be much of an issue. The Angels of Death held the entrance to a mountainous pass, a miniature valley between high rock walls. Although over fifty metres wide, it was narrow enough to force the Orks to gather into a single mass, allowing only a sliver of the Orks to open fire. It was the reason the Space Marines had been able to hold so long with so few numbers. 

 

Withdrawal would have been preferable were it not for the objective. Behind Daigo was a supply depot responsible for maintaining the Imperium's momentum in this zone. He and his brothers had been ordered to prevent any harm falling upon it. So, they held. 

 

The Orks fired first as the undisciplined horde was wont to do. Most of these first shots missed as they were still outside effective range. A rare round pinged off armour as the Legionaries bided their time. Ippaku's heavy bolter was the first to reply. With thunderous detonations, the foremost Orks exploded in blood and limbs.

 

On they came. 

 

The smaller bolters were next as they provided the majority of the firepower. Though weaker, the bolts were strong enough to pierce the pathetic excuse of what the Orks deemed 'armour' and quickly outpaced the lone heavy bolter in kills. 

 

Still, on they came. 

 

The enemy fire jumped into a storm as every Ork eagerly sought their lives. Lacking cover, the Legionaries could, at most, was strafe side to side to make it harder for the Greenskins to concentrate fire. Rounds dented ceramite, scoured paint, and, periodically, punched through. Next to Daigo, a brother grunted as a lucky shot pierced a joint, bright red spilling onto white metal. 

 

Finally, Daigo and his two companions of the Blue Volta added martian beams to the volleys. The lances of light and heat burned through two ranks of Ork at a time. Guided by the future itself, Daigo's blindness proved to be of no consequence as every shot made its mark. 

 

Unrelenting, they came.

 

Daigo activated a vox channel. "Initiate flanking manuever."

 

Rising above the cacophony was a new roar. An orchestra of engines heralded the descent of reinforcements. Unhelmed and sporting garish orange hair, the infamous Kitsune hollered and barked with laughter as they landed behind the mass of Orks. Fires of blue, red, and green washed over the Orks' rear, throwing the entire mob into confusion. With a whoop, the Kitsune threw themselves into the melee, chainswords screaming for blood. 

 

Daigo watched with a vague sense of disapproval. He would never deny the Kits' their prowess. If only they would comport themselves with more decorum. Yet, the future was clear as Daigo burned the head off of another Ork. 

 

Victory was theirs.

 

~~~

 

Kitsune of the Golden Blossom

 

Although the First Legion was famed for their poise and grace, not all of their members fit into this familiar mold. While the Praxis could be less refined, few gleefully flouted these social conventions as did the Kitsune of the Golden Blossom. This minor college of the Harbingers rarely numbered more than a few thousand Legionaries. Yet, they often possessed a presence in much greater proportion to their few numbers. The Kitsune combined the divination the First Legion excelled at with a blazing talent for pyromancy.

 

In war, they specialized in assaults against entrenched positions and flanking massed enemy infantry. These high risk maneuvers was one reason for their few numbers. A concern never shared by the Kitsune, or the Kits as they were sometimes derisively called, themselves. For the Kitsunes' philosophy was that it was best to burn bright and short, to make a mark that would echo into eternity. Such a belief lent itself to a disregard for social rituatls that they saw as pointless. To their brothers' unending frustration, the Kitsune often played tricks that mocked these habits as much as an outlet for their energy between combat engagements. Nor were their brothers their sole targets.

 

Despite all of the embarrassments they caused, they fought as skillfully as the rest of the First. Furthermore, they weaponised their tricks in the form of unorthodox tactics. Although casualty rates were high, the Kitsune who survived the decades of war become foes of infinite cunning. It was rumoured that the Nine-Tailed, the leader of the Golden Blossom, was famous for his ability to turn a battle in his favour with his wit as his sole weapon. 

[simison]

For the first time in a bit, we have multiple entries, requiring judges.

 

Demus, Skal, Blunt, you have been chosen by the randomizer.

 

To reiterate a request from Discord, Mikhal, what do you want to see this month?

 

Other matters to be dealt with:

• Given how more casual this has become since we started, do we want to just have one randomly picked judge?
• This month will complete our first series of fluff challenges. As you all know, we agreed to a schedule of 6 Legions and 1 non-Legion, both to include the non-Legions but also to emphasize the Legions who came first with priority. Now that we've completed our first run through, are people in favor of changing the schedule?
• Since March 1st is our publishing date, do we want to reserve February for the Halcyon Wardens explicitly to have people come up with stories to feature in the red book?

Edited January 1, 2019 by simison

[Talonair]

I think reserving February for the Wardens is a good idea since they're on the block first

[helterskelter]

I'd be inclined to say yes to all

[Beren]

Yes to the Halycon Wardens reservation.

[Demus Ragnok]

Yes to all

[Doctor Perils]

I join Helters - yes to all

[Raktra]

Yes to all.

[Kelborn]

I'm with ya in all points.

[MikhalLeNoir]

Here gwals history so far:

 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1pUcUrCE7iBUxGNuQKlbhlA2BeteZqaJwGjPrNiBjQDM/edit?usp=drivesdk

 

I like ti have a horrostory where the kingsguard meet chuld gwal for the.first time. Hope that helter will do it.

 

A story about a marine in training who follows.in gwals footsteps in avelorn.and encounter the same.probs as his primsrch did

 

Some battlestories

 

Maybe a description.of the battle dances the people of caerbannog use to tell stories and which are used by the wardens as well.

 

Character descriptions.of some warden heroes.

 

A historical text analyzing if the wardens waited out, or were traitors or heroes would be neat.