#Return to the Primogenitor

[digimontamerrichie-tcg]

BT17-097 | Return to the Primogenitor

Option Card | Uncommon | Blue | Green

Digimon Movie | Digimon Adventure 02 | Revenge of Diaboromon

[Featuring: Imperialdramon Paladin Mode]

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"Point your phone at the sword!"

[blackvahana]

There's definitely a constant thought buzzing in the back of my mind regarding ANVD and... the logical conclusions of some things. I can't help but think that the twins would've guided me to making it (If I am The Inevitable and Lev does actually know about it and so on) and then swamped it in BB symbolism and made me hallucinate that it was the Nightmares and then just. take it from me.

which, to be clear, symbolically - to our family - it is the Nightmares, metaphorically. In the way I say I think the game is based on this family it isn't the Nightmares, but it's also... sorry. I'm just looking at our close-knit current life things... Rip the baby from Kos - emphasis again that I'm talking on our close-knit metaphorical projections on the game, but the cyclical nature is fulfilled. I make realms, the Micolashs take them and use them, they end up being strangled alive by them, they claim those realms or That Realm as ANVD expands, they. become the host, I didn't think of that lmfao.

Just the constant symbolism of salt washing up on shore and strangling the water, which turned out to be eggs, the gravitation of my Leviathanic body to being white like Gold is outside my conscious choice when I only identified with and expressed myself in black and gold... and the fact that.... I wasn't allowed near the Hamlet in game and neither it nor Maria in thoughts let alone spiritual practice, I wasn't allowed to talk to "them". Kos apparently hated me based on something - but Lull seemed to support my attempts at reconciliation. Towards the end of our time together, Lull "got pregnant" and Maria "helped him deliver" in my body, which showed there was a breaking down of the "Maria & the Hamlet don't want to be near you" thing going on. I fully expect that it... was probably going to develop into him being like "actually you're a Godshard of Kos and you have to reconcile" and then into stitching realms andddd

Dont get me wrong, not a conspiracy, the twins... for all the fucking faith Black and Red had in them Grey was right in that they don't fucking think they do not plan properly they do not act like gods with the weight of millions on their back, but they... that's where that was going, full stop.

[digi-lov]

Miraculous Mega Knight BT17-095, Doomsday Clock BT17-100, Double Typhoon ST17-11 Alternative Art, Return to the Primogenitor BT17-097, Crimson Savior BT17-096, Rika Nonaka BT17-085 Alternative Art, Ancient Guardian Deity BT17-094, Ancient Guardian Deity BT17-094 Alternative Art, Awakening of the Sun BT17-099, Awakening of the Sun BT17-099 Alternative Art from BT-17 Booster Secret Crisis and the Secret Crisis: Movie Memorial Pack

[aabluedragon]

About the Nature of Bloodfiends and Bloodthirst

CANTO VII SPOILERS BABYYYYY

In addition to my previous explanation of Bloodfiends with only information from Canto VII, I took the information I was reminded of in Murder on the WARP Express (episode 8) and presented it to my sister, who is wholly unfamiliar with the world of Project Moon for her perusal and she started cooking.

Establishing:

Blood is an analog to self actualization for Bloodfiends.

Bloodfiends seek blood because their instincts drive them to do so in favor of all other forms of fulfilment (see: La Manchaland and "happiness").

Therefore, they are de-incentivized from finding joy through anything else.

Becoming a Bloodfiend places a psychological block against seeking other forms of happiness.

There happens to be a River (or thirty) of an unknown source running underneath The City that blurs the line between mental and physical reality for beings that draw too close.

My sister's hypothesis:

Self actualization taken from blood is analogous to having a "soul" (proof of being alive/having the will to live).

By becoming a Bloodfiend, one loses their “soul” to the bloodstream/River due to the nature of their Primogenitor.

Therefore, Bloodfiends, who do not possess that “soul”, seek it through the act of blooddrinking from humans.

This process drains some amount of "soul" from the human, which is why direct blooddrinking always produces Bloodbags without exception.

This soullessness is also why Bloodbags will seek blood, they simply do not retain consciousness because they were never given blood (soul) in return by a Kindred.

Nosferatu/River/Light theory:

As established in Murder on the WARP Express, Bloodbags and Bloodfiends lose some form of physicality via the connection of blood to emotion, which are still plastic and transient on WARP trains. This transmutation is the method by which people "disappear" from WARP trains -- there is no physical body to reset after a person is fed on by a Bloodfiend and subsequently turned into a Bloodbag.

This transmutation is related to the origin of Bloodfiends, which I believe to be the River as presented in Lobotomy Corporation and Canto VI and the Light.

There are two lines of Bloodfiends that we know of, those descended from "a certain mansion" and those descended from the Blood Red Night.

I believe the Primogenitor of that "certain mansion" to be Nosferatu or a similar entity, an Abnormality created by the influence of the River rather than Cogito.

If the River is the source of the Primogenitor and where a Bloodfiend's sense of self and fulfilment departs for, it makes sense then that all Bloodfiends have a primal fear of water.

After all, to drink from the River instead of a human is to return your "soul" to yourself.

Ergo, Sancho’s fresh start after drinking from the River of Oblivion is untouched by bloodthirst despite Rocinante not repressing it, as observed by Vergilius.

The River and the Light

Going strictly by the nature of an Abnormality’s creation and how they can make sub-Abnos (see Melting Love goop in Lobotomy Corporation), Nosferatu the Abnormality passes on some of the metaphysical fuckery of the river to his Kindred, resulting in the bloodthirst and its consequences.

The bloodline of the Blood Red Night is tied to Distortion, a process of transformative hyper-individualism requiring the Light released from L Corp headquarters. However, I consider the Light to be an extracted and subsequently manufactured portion of the River like vanillin is to vanilla. If you wish to see more from me, feel free to leave a message. It's been a long time since I've been active on Tumblr and I've grown much since my early years. Cheers!

[the-consortium]

Oleander arriving back on Urum.

Oleander Koh strode across the dead city, humming softly to himself. The dry wind scraped across his garishly painted power armour, and he hunched forward, leaning into the teeth of the gale.

Reynolds, Josh. Primogenitor (Fabius Bile: Warhammer 40,000 Book 1) (English Edition) . Games Workshop. Kindle-Version.

A birthday-present for @ladymirdan, who has an unholy love for the Emperor's Children legionaries who want to reshape the Third, make it whole again, bring it back to glory.

Oleander is such a guy - so very intent on badgering Fabius into taking up the mantle of Lieutenant Commander again, to return his brothers back to their rightful place.

Fabius is neither willing nor amused.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

What WAS Meghan's Endgame? by u/number1crsh

What WAS Meghan's Endgame? Alright fellow sinners, hop inside my time machine for a moment and indulge me. We are headed back to London before Megxit, to right after they returned home from their Australia tour. Now that we are here, let's not watch the road play out that we have already seen, let's go on to a parallel universe.Harry and his wife have returned triumphant back to London, their tour of Australia, Tonga, Fiji and New Zealand has gone better than any Royal Tour that has ever been undertaken before. Harry puts forth this wonderful idea that since he and his wife are power players and the most popular of all the royals, that this whole primogenitor thing should be shoved aside and Harry and his wife should be the next heirs to the throne. Now, let's pretend that Queen Elizabeth gives it a good think and decides, he's absolutely right! No reason to let this whole line of succession thing happen when Harry and his wife have the entire world eating out of their hands! So, therefore, she declares that when she passes, Harry and his wife will be the next king and queen of the United Kingdom, skipping everyone between the Queen and themselves...What then? In my honest opinion, I don't think being queen would have been enough for Meghan. Good enough isn't enough for her when there is more to be had, so what was her plan? Marry a stupid Prince and then...become a dictator and try to take over the entire world? I think that even if the two of them had gotten everything they wanted, it still wouldn't have been good enough. I know that within a couple if one is stupid and other is a narcissist, not much common sense makes it through but can't they see that even if their half in/half out plan, their "make us king and queen of the commonwealth", their "let's be co-Prince and Princess of Wales", their "primogenitor, what primogenitor?", had worked out for them, it wouldn't have been enough to satisfy them?Perhaps I'm just tired of their whining and moaning. It truly is sad to see when people that have it all can't see how good they actually have it for all the things they can't have. Pathetic.You may all exit the time machine now, thank you for indulging me. post link: https://ift.tt/pzkeHXg author: number1crsh submitted: March 14, 2024 at 09:50AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[mudaship39]

Character bio of the Afro Asian Native Fae Elvish, Giant Kin, and Goblinoid Spellcaster, Gunslinger, & Swordfighter Part 3:

Hero: 

Disciple of the Obscure (They have spent their time worshiping a deity who's not very well known. They act as an intermediary between the realm of their deity and the mortal world. They perform sacred rites and offer sacrifices in order to please their deity. They are helping a demigod ascend into a goddess. They are worshiping them in private. Their deity wants them to do heroic, virtuous, & lawful acts in their name. Though the demigoddess is true good alignment, not a neutral good alignment like her disciple who swore an oath of vengeance and oath of devotion to her. She speaks directly to them sometimes. Other times it's through messengers such as angels). 

Folk Hero. Legendary Lineage. Divine Seeker. Auspicious Birth. Divine Disciple. Fated. Fallen Hero. Dark Hero. Wronged Hero. Local Hero. Celebrity. Divine Champion. Herald of the Gods. Defyer of Fate. Wielder of the Old One (Titan Slayer a sentient Sword forged by giant kin, blessed by primordial beings, & heated and cooled by elemental dragons). 

Warrior of a Lost Age. From the Past. Elysium Knight. Ancient King/Queen. Eternal One. Sealed One. Ancient One (Blessed and given purpose by a benevolent being. Gained immortality for better or worse). Time Frozen (Frozen by a deity of time to protect them from calamity). Revenant. Lost Civilization (Person from legendary world filled with magic and technology where citizens used artifacts and relics many consider impossible). 

Isekai. Otherworlder.  Returned. Primogenitor (They were the first. They started a bloodline with a famous and rich history. An entire bloodline was born from their blood and an illustrious future was born from their actions. It has been many generations. They have lost track. They are recognized by their current family. They were a famous alchemist and renowned wizard who sired children. They, as an innovative inventor, engineer, & scientist, were the creator of some great process or invention that is renowned by many in the past and now is a commonplace sight. They were sealed away in a deep sleep only to have recently awoken. In the modern ages they are living alongside their progeny somehow despite being written out of history ages ago. The means of how they are currently here is sinister). Reborn Soul. 

Monstrous Presence. Survivor of the Cataclysm. An S rank calamity. An S rank dungeon. Millions of F rank to S rank adventurers were displaced to an S rank dungeon that was a giant supercontinent. With many environments of islands, jungles, forests, swamps, grasslands, deserts, mountains, arctic tundras, & volcanic mountains. The adventurers were displaced randomly throughout these environments. Terrains home to A to S rank beasts, creatures, & monsters. Environments home to B to S rank humanoid enemies. They were displaced there in the dungeon for a century. Time exists differently in the cataclysm. A century there was a decade in the real world. Of the millions displaced as the decade ended only several hundred thousand C rank to S rank adventurers survived. 

Beast, Monster, Creature Tamer: 

Dungeon Master of S ranked Monster Dungeon filled with slimes all the way to dragons for an S ranked Adventurers Guild for Training of B Class to S ranked guild members.

Minions: 

Slime folk minions with boss summons of humanoid slimes. Undead minions: skeleton soldiers, zombies, ghouls, mummies. Special undead summons: death knights, mummy lords, dullahan. Undead boss summon: a lich. Goblinoid minions: imps, goblins, & boss summons hobgoblins. Special summons, orc, high orc, troll, & high troll. Giant kin summons: ogre, oni, kijin, goliath, giants, & boss summon titans. Avian summons: tengu, kenku, owlin, and boss summons: Aarakocra. Werecreature minions and boss summon pureblood alpha werewolves. Serpent folk summons: gorgon, lamia, naga, yuan ti abominations, yuan ti half bloods, & boss summon yuan ti pureblood. Vampire summons and boss summon vampire lord. Dragon kin summons: kobolds, dragon newt, drake, wyvern, dragon born, half dragons, & boss summons dragons. 

Magic User Level: 

Circle 10 Magic User specializing in tier 0 to tier 10 magic. 10 magical cores or stars. 

Magic Skills:

Skilled in the schools of magic, magical subjects, & magical skills of. Especially absorption, alchemy, amulets, animancy, animation, animism, apparition, arithmancy, artificing, astrology, augmentation, banishment, bestowal, cartomancy, charms,  clairvoyance, conjuration, conversion, creation, crystals, curses, dark arts, demonology, disintegration, divination, elements, enchantment, entropy, evocation, familiar bonding, feng shui, geomancy, grimoires, healing, herbology, hexes, hoodoo, hypnosis, illusions, incantations, inscriptions, invocations, mediums, mysticism, necrology, negation, necromancy, nonverbal spellcasting, numerology, 

occultism, onmyodo, potions, precognition, psionics, psychometry, reanimation, rituals, runes, runology, scrying, sealing, sensing, shamanism, shapeshifting, sorcery, sourcing, summoning, spellcasting, spiritual projection, talismans, talismongering, tarot cards, technomancy, teleportation, transfiguration, transmogrification, transmutation, voodoo, wandless spellcasting, warding and wards, white arts, witchcraft, & wuxing. 

Skilled in the types of magic. Especially aether magic, astral magic, aura magic, barrier magic, battle magic, blessing magic, blood magic, combat magic, conceptual magic, cosmic magic, creation magic, dark magic, dark arts magic, death magic, demonic magic, destiny magic, destruction magic, defensive magic, dimension magic, divine magic, dragon magic, dream magic, druid magic, 

eldritch magic, elemental magic, emotional magic, energy magic, environmental magic, evolutionary magic, explosion magic, faith magic, fairy magic, forensic magic, forge magic, holy magic, home magic, hope magic, ink magic, life magic, light magic, love magic, luck magic, lunar magic, medical magic, memory magic, mirror magic, motion magic, momentum magic, music magic, mythic magic, nature magic, nether magic, neutral magic, object magic, order magic, 

paper magic, peace magic, planetary magic, plasma magic, poison magic, portal magic, possession magic, psionic magic, psychic magic, purification magic, quantum magic, raw magic, reality magic, reinforcement magic, ritual magic, rural magic, sacrificial magic, sealing magic, sentient magic, shadow magic, sigil magic, solar magic, solid magic, sound magic, space magic, space time magic, spirit magic, stellar magic, strength magic, symbol magic, time magic, techno magic, teleportation magic, transcendent magic, twilight magic, underground magic, urban magic, vector magic, void magic, war magic, warp magic, wild magic, & white arts magic. 

Magic User Rank: 

Imperial alchemist, master enchanter, journeyman animist, arch mage, grand magician, greater necromancer, lesser psionic, imperial arcanist, great channeler, supreme witch, greater summoner, master conjurer, grand sorcerer, great warlock, apprentice healer, lesser seer, great elementalist, greater illusionist, novice invoker, arch magus, supreme mystic, master transmuter, neophyte diviner, imperial mentalist, & master wizard. 

Titles: Strongest S Rank Adventurer. Undefeatable Arcane Swordsman. Most Skilled Spellcaster. Deadeye Esoteric Sharpshooter. 

Magic Circles: 

A magic circle is a circle of space marked out by practitioners of some branches of magic. They generally believe it will contain energy and form a sacred space. They believe it will also provide them a form of magical protection. Special powers that rely on the power of traced shapes and diagrams to function. 

Almost always a circular design. Comes with additional shapes of varying complexity inside the circle. Sometimes only required for a special ceremony. Sometimes necessary for anything and everything remotely magical.  It is a form of hermetic magic. 

Geometric magic usually sets itself up as a type of functional magic. It is frequently paired with ritual magic. Its instant runes when the magic seems to spawn the shapes rather than the other way around. Instant runes are generally involved anyway as the activation of the shape may cause writing to appear. Magic using wands, mage sticks, scepters, & broomsticks summon magic circles that are geometric magic. 

More complicated geometric magic designs are required for more complicated forms of magic. They are called arrays. The more detailed the array and the more stable the magic. The bigger the magic circle the more powerful the magic effect is. There are different geometric shapes depending on the class of magic the caster is using. There are several known variations. Some correspond to the major schools of magic and some to magical specialization. Combining geometric shapes leads to more complex forms of magic. The most powerful of spells use sacred geometry. His/her/their magic circles radiate or shine cardinal, sapphire, obsidian, opal, amethyst, emerald, gold, or silver.  

Status: Alive

Died several times as a S rank adventurer.   

They were revived and resurrected several times.  

Died when a monster stampede of a thunder of hundred chromatic evil dragons attacked the kingdom. Burned by a fire dragon and electrocuted by a lightning dragon. The dragons came when they were attracted by an ancient draconic relic hidden in the kingdom.

Was resurrected by a head clergy of a church in a large city. After members of their party performed a task for the priest to prove their fallen comrade's worth to them. Also had the paladin and cleric of the party take up oaths of the god the head priest and saintess served. 

Died when a devil lord killed them for revenge when he/she/they killed devil lords and ladies for vengeance. The devils turned a city into a human sacrifice and turned the citizens into imps, lesser demons, and arch demons. The demons used this to turn themselves into greater demons, demon nobles, & demon royalty. 

The guild adventuring party ventured into the underworld to take back the soul of their dead party member themselves. 

Died when fighting alongside a metallic dragon against a lich king and their zombie dragon. Lich King amassed an army of two million undead using the dead of a kingdom in a resurrection spell to attack the capital city. The undead army of mummies, vampires, ghosts, skeleton soldiers, banshees, ghasts, jiangshi, wraiths, revenants, zombies, & ghouls was commanded by undead commanders of death knights, pureblood vampire lords, necromancers, undead fighters, undead spellcasters, & mummy lords.

Divine intervention resurrection. He/she/they were resurrected by a different goddess than the one they served. The deity asks that the party promise to perform a favor in exchange for their friend's life. She asked that they become an avatar for her when they were revived to do deeds in her name as her champion.

Was petrified by a fire basilisk. Was un petrified. 

He/she/they when he/she/they died were chosen to become a god/goddess/deity as a human with fae elvish, giant kin, and goblinoid ancestry. He/she/they were chosen to become the fae elvish god goddess of magic, the giant kin god goddess of technology, and goblinoid god goddess of smithing including (god smithing weapons meant to kill gods and devils).

Occupation:   

Retired: 

Military Navy Fleet Admiral 

Magical Marine Corp General 

Magical Air Force General 

Magical Space Navy Captain 

Sky Pirate General 

Sea Pirate Fleet Admiral

Thief’s Guild Grandmaster 

Assassins Guild Grandmaster

Slayer. (Gov. Sanctioned Association of Slayers. Witch Hunter. Mage Hunter. Demon Hunter. Monster Hunter. Slayer of the Undead. Dragon Slayer.)

Elven Royal Advisor 

Icon

Active:

High King/High Queen

Paramount Chieftain/Warchief

High End Bar Owner

Five Star Restaurant Owner

Seelie Court Lord/Lady 

Merchant Guild Grandmaster 

Merchant Navy Fleet Admiral 

Knight Order High Elder

God Smith

Paladin Order Elder 

Magical School Superintendent/Chancellor

Pathfinder. Wayfinder. Horizon Walker. Outrider. Master Inquisitor. Trailblazer. 

Wand Carver. 

Magical Amulet and Talisman Carver.

Magical Witch’s Broomstick Carver. 

Magical University Dean 

High Elder of a Circle of Magi

High Priestess of a Witch Coven

Magic Tower Grandmaster 

Mercenary Company Commander 

Lord Commander of the City Guard

Lord Commander of the City Watch

Guild Grandmaster (Adventurer’s Guild leader).

Place of Residence: When in magical human federation land he/she/they live at the Norwood Manor on the Norwood Estate. While in Indigenous magical human land he/she/they live in a dome shaped oblong, rounded, undulatory, & sinuous home. It has peaks and spires. It is rib vaulted. It has catenary arches. It is made out of gemstones and magical metals. It is filled with magiteck for accessibility. 

Citizenship: Tirione Kingdom, Human Federation of Magical Human Kingdoms and Indigenous Magical Human Nations, Alliance or Coalition, Federation of Aehinara, Continent of Aehinara, Contingent Landmass of Eisio, Giant Planet of Kaishi

Affiliation: 

Human Federation of Magical Human Kingdoms and Indigenous Magical Human Nations. 

Alliance or Coalition. Confederacy of Indigenous Goblinoid and Giantkin Nations. 

Federation of Aehinara

Sword and Shield Knight Order

Paragon Paladin Order

Vanguard Guild Order and Adventuring Guild

Cerberus Mercenary Company

Magic Council

Arcane Order 

Education: 

High School graduate.

High School Diploma.

He/she/they were part of the magical go, magical shogi, & magical chess club. 

U-13 (or under 13), U-15 (or under 15) Magical Dueling first place champion, second place runner up, & third place finalist who took part in magical duels with a rapier, short sword and shield, & long sword.

 U-18 or under 18, U-21 or under 21, & 21 and over Magical Dueling first place champion, second place runner up, third place finalist who took part in magical duels with dual wielding short swords, one handed long sword and shield, and two handed great sword. 

U-13 or under 13, U-15 or under 15 Magical Archery first place champion, second place runner up, & third place finalist who took part in magical archery with a magical traditional bow and arrow, a magical crossbow, & a magical modern compound bow.

 U-18 (or under 18), U-21 (or under 21), & 21 and over Magical Sharpshooting first place champion, second place runner up, third place finalist who took part in magical gunslinging using a magical flintlock pistol, magical revolver revolver, magical semi automatic pistol, magical flintlock rifle, magical ten shot lever action repeating rifle, & magical carbine. 

U-13 (or under 13) and U-15 (or under 15) Magical Spellcasting first place champion, second place runner up, & third place finalist who took part in magical duels with a wand, magical baton, & grimoire.

U-18 (or under 18), U-21 (or under 21), & 21 and over Magical Spellcasting first place champion, second place runner up, third place finalist who took part in magical duels with a mage stick, broomstick, & scepter. 

He/she/they/they took drama and theater where they met the Night Elf Bard.

He/she/they were the treasurer, vice president, & later student body president. 

He/she/they took honors classes and AP classes. He/she/they in high school were on the principal’s honor roll and was valedictorian. 

College graduate.

Associates Degree in Arithmancy

Masters Degree in Language.

Dual Major in Goblinoid and Giantkin

Minor in Common and Elvish

Master’s Degree in Military History.

History Major in Elvish History 

With emphasis in Dark Elven History

Minor in Draenei History

PHD in Magical Philosophy. 

Doctorate in Demonology and Necrology. 

He/she/they taught as a professor at the magical four year university. 

This is the magical four year university that they were alumni of where they were an English major that received their associate’s degree in Common (English).

They graduated cum laude as someone who graduated in the top twenty percent of their class. 

They were a Common (English) major that received their bachelor’s degree of the arts with a dual major in Goblin, Troll, Giantish, and Orcish.

Club member of the Divination, Numerology, Astrology, & Astronomy Club

He/she/they were club president of the Indigenous magical students association. He/she/they were vice president of the magical human students association. 

At the magical four year university they were the star-player of the magical sports team. 

He/she/they taught magical philosophy as a magical philosopher at a magical Ivy League School. 

This is the magical Ivy League School that they were alumni of where they were a Philosophy and Ethics major that received their doctorate degree in magical philosophy. 

He/she/they graduated magna cum laude as someone who graduated in the top ten percent of their class. 

He/she/they were part of the men’s and women’s magical basketball, baseball, softball, ice hockey, field hockey, soccer, volleyball, track and field, & rugby magical collegiate sports teams.

He/she/they were part of the magical fencing club sport team as Lysander. This is where they met the High Elf Cleric and Paladin.

He/she/they were part of the magical kendo, sai, kobudo, spear, kalaripayattu, stick fighting, bo staff, silat, & nunchucks melee martial art club sport team. 

He/she/they were part of the magical mixed martial arts (imagine karate, capoeira, krav maga, savate, muay thai, jiu jitsu, kickboxing, hapkido, judo, aikido, taekwondo, etc.) club sport team. 

He/she/they were part of the magical monk class martial arts (imagine bak mei, wushu, changquan, hung gar, xingyiquan, shuai jiao, wing chun, san da, choy li fut, shaolin kung fu, & wuzuquan) martial arts club sport team.  

He/she/they were part of the archery crossbow, traditional composite bow, & modern compound bow kyudo club sport team as Luciana. This is where they met the Wood Elf Druid and Ranger. 

As an equestrian that was part of the equestrian sports club they were a rider of magical mounts of alicorns, unicorns, & pegasi. 

He/she/they were an instructor at a magical military academy as a gun witch, battle wizard, & war mage. 

He/she/they at the magical military academy fought other fighters in tourneys with magical two handed greatswords, spears, two handed warhammers, & two handed battle axes. 

At the magical military academy they were the star player of the magical mount riding team as a rider of a drake and wyvern. 

He/she/they were part of the magical military martial arts competitive sports clubs at the magical military academy.  

He/she/they graduated from the military academy as a second lieutenant.

He/she/they graduated summa cum laude as someone who graduated top one percent of their class. 

He/she/they graduated from the military academy with a master's degree in History with a major in Elvish military history with an emphasis on Dark Elf history. 

He/she/they graduated from the military academy with a minor in geography. 

He/she/they as a grand magister who is a multi class magician graduated from a magical academy with certificates in metaplanes studies, astral studies, conceptual magic, quantum magic, magic theory, and theoretical magic. 

Researcher and archiver at the magical library at the magical Ivy League university.

Studied college classes in Alchemy, Animal Care, Apparition, Arcane archaeology, Artificing, Arcane Architecture, Arcane Calligraphy, Astral Studies, Attunement, Botany, Centering, Charm Creation, Cleansing, Comparative Anatomy, Comparative Magical Studies, Counter Spellcasting, Curse Casting, Divination, Extra-dimensional Spaces, Fae Relations, Feng Shui, Forensic Magic, Geomancy, Historiography of Magic, Illusionology, Interdimensional law Interspecies Relations,  Invisible Writings Studies, Ley Line Studies, Life Gardening, Magical Creature Morphology, Magic Infusion, Magical law, Metaphysics, Metaplanar Studies, Monster Recognition, Mystical Gemology, Mythical Forging Techniques, Necrotic Civil Rights Studies, Occult Studies, Planar Geography, Potions, Political Sorcery, Practical Conjuration, Psychometry, Recent Runes, Somatics, Shamanistic Studies, Spellcasting Styles, Spell Composition, Talismongering, Theoretical Magic, Transmutive Chemistry, War Wizardry, Ward Creation

Base of Operations:

Castle inside a fortress as the High Elder of a Guardian Guild, a Knight Order and Paladin Order. Small buildings populate the grounds as dwellings for workers of the fortress. There are structures outside the bastion that offer a safe home to all those in need. A handful of waterfalls flow into various small rivers and provide the precious farm fields of farmers outside the castle with needed water. Lush fields of crops surround the castle walls and provide the inhabitants with food all year round. Various large houses are scattered outside the castle gates. Surprisingly the rich and middle class are comfortable with living outside the gates as well.  

The walls of the bastion have openings for artillery, archers, & anti-siege weaponry. Trees grow close to the castle gates and provide it with valuable wood for all sorts of purposes. Stylish grand windows are scattered here and there around the walls of the castle in seemingly perfect symmetrical patterns. Fifteen thin square towers are a decoration aspect of this elegant castle. The castle is defended by towering four colossal round outposts made out of granite that form a protective barrier all around the castle. The outposts of this citadel are surrounded by eight guard posts made of obsidian. The guard posts have been built on various tactical spots for an ideal defense. The guard posts of this castle are each surrounded by fifteen guard towers. The guard towers dominate the skyline of these guard posts and are connected by tall thick walls made of basalt and stone. The fortress itself is defended by ten forts. 

Huge statues of heroes of the past decorate the castle inside. They are memories of glories of the past. The castle is built into a mountain surrounded by a forest. The forest was defended by magical creatures. The guard posts, guard towers, forts, & outposts that protect the castle are built into plains, hills, valleys, and fields. Huge dragon bones litter the forests and small wyvern and drake carcasses litter the fields and hills outside the castle. This castle has clearly been around for at least a thousand years. But it doesn't seem like it will collapse any time soon. 

This castle has clearly stood the test of time. This castle has been improved and improved over the ages. Some parts of the castle are clearly newer than others. The inhabitants are determined to keep their castle as modern as possible. This castle shows signs of expansion as some parts are clearly built more recently than others. The inhabitants are already working on another part and hope to keep expanding. 

The fortress has a huge gate with a vast gate with huge metal doors connected to a draw bridge built over a moat filled with aquatic magical animals that protects the bastion. These strong defenses give a safe place to rest in this forest stronghold. It's the only easy way in for any other side would be futile. Six strong square towers form a protective barrier all around the fortress. They are connected by towering, thin walls made of obsidian. Wide windows are scattered here and there across the fortress walls in an asymmetric pattern along with symmetric holes for archers, anti-siege weapons, and artillery. A sizable gate with giant metal doors, a regular bridge and various artillery equipment guards the last stronghold along this shoreline that the fortress is built into. 

But it's not the only way in when you know the fortress’s secret passages. Remnants of broken siege engines litter the area outside the fortress. Bodies, broken swords and shields, & dead mounts litter the fields outside. As a painful reminder of a past war. This fortress is relatively new but so far it stood its ground with ease and it'll likely do so for ages to come.

Vanguard Guild Hall as the Guild Grandmaster of Vanguard an S rank Adventuring Guild and Guild Order.  The Vanguard Guild had an emblem of swords and rifles in front of a sigil of a shield. This guild is designed expressly for those who battle monsters, hunt treasure in dungeons, and go on quests. The guild’s members were trained at a university founded by the guild. This guild will be dynamic. They are always looking for new opportunities. It may be willing to back more risky ventures in return for a share of the profits. It may even sponsor adventuring parties. 

The guild hall of the guild included a reception desk, a meeting room, training room, meeting room for guild leaders and VIP like royalty and other important people, treasury, market, dorms for apprentices and trainees, trading hall with traders, trophy room, war room, an arena, a library, workbenches, a brothel, barracks, chemistry lab for alchemists, offices for guild staff, magical lab for scientists, workshop, amphitheater, common room, forge for blacksmiths and artificers, furnace, conference room for guild staff, emporium with merchants, auction room, a quest board, a bank, a notice board, hospital, pub for associates who aren’t members of the guild, mount stable, aviary, game room, archive room, mess hall, rooms with private wardrobes, storage room, warehouse, a tavern bar, kitchen, an armory, shrine for warlocks, chapel for clerics, & a dungeon for temporary prisoners. 

The guild had a grand hall. In the grand hall of the guild was a charter which is essentially a list of rules or values outlining the guild’s purpose and mission. The guild had a code of ethics. This addressed the overall behavior of a member, business practices, & product quality. In the reception hall of the guild was a list of requirements for admission and initiation. 

The guild’s standing and reputation in the community was excellent. The guild hall was a place where the guild showed off its accumulated power and wealth. The guild building had lodging and work areas for guild members and adventurers. It had a grand hall with ornate architecture and high ceilings. It was an obvious way for a powerful organization to quietly brag to all those who witnessed it. Tapestries hung on the walls in the color of the guild. The guild hall was three stories tall. The skylights at the top let light filter in the guild grand hall giving dramatic ambiance at any time of day. The guild had an underground room for secret meetings. 

The guild is led by a single president and overseen by a group of board members. An adventurers guild is an excellent spot for members to relax, share tales of their exploits, pick up rumors of missions within the city, hear gossip of loot in dungeons, and meet with prospective employers. Many people looking to hire adventurers come to an adventurers guild first. People can easily acquire adventuring hirelings or cohorts through the guild or hire freelance mercenaries through a mercenary company. The guild keeps track of its members' abilities. They often direct potential employers to the guild member or adventurer party that best fits their needs. 

Members must keep the guild apprised of their abilities and notify the guild when they are undertaking an adventure or quest. They are not required to accept any job offers the guild might point their way, but constant refusal of employment might eventually upset the guild grandmasters. Finally, members must be willing, if asked, to embark on a quest to rescue missing guild members. Finally, all members are expected to pay the guild 10% of the value of any treasure or goods they find on their adventures. In addition to the regular monthly dues. A guild is an organization formed to protect the interests and pursuits of people involved in the same general trade or activity. Within that broad definition a guild can appear in countless different forms. Such as large or small, weak or powerful, & public or secretive. Joining a guild is a simple enough prospect. 

One simply approaches it and petitions for membership. There you can find other information about the guild, such as its general membership requirements, operating procedures, and so on. A more covert association, such as a thieves or assassins guild, might require more investigation. Some secret societies are so well hidden that the party must seek out clues through investigation and adventuring. It is also possible that if someone has obtained fame that the relevant guild might approach them directly themselves through a representative. This is a relatively rare occurrence. Some guilds have additional requirements such as passing initiation rites or being a certain rank. Most guilds gain the bulk of their income through entry fees and membership dues. Most guilds provide a standard set of benefits available to all members. While they might vary slightly in specifics. They are generally the same from one guild to the next.  

A guild subsidizes the cost of goods, supplies, and services related to its chosen field. Thereby reducing the price to a member by 10 to 15%. A guild can provide monetary loans to members who have fallen on hard times. Should they fail to meet the deadline. Then they are suspended or on probation at the very least or at the most expelled from the guild. The most obvious drawback to guild membership is the monthly dues. While most adventurers should have little problem earning this much money, a slow month can cause problems. A member in good standing might be given one month's leeway, but if they fail to pay their dues including back-dues by then they are suspended and put on probation. A member in bad standing after failing to pay back dues several times is expelled. Additionally, many guilds have enemies or rivals among the other guilds of the city. 

Guild members have certain responsibilities which they must perform in order to maintain their standing. In some cases these are fairly minor. Such as keeping the guild apprised of certain topics. In others, this responsibility might involve donating a percentage of earnings as membership dues. Other times it is seeking guild permission to undertake certain actions. An individual who fails to pay their dues or perform their duties for more than two consecutive months is expelled from the guild. Similarly, a member who compromises the guild in some manner is also expelled. Expulsion results in the immediate loss of all benefits gained from the guild. 

Guilds have a lot of power and influence. Guild membership can be an attractive prospect. Though most small guilds appeal only to characters who stand to gain from belonging, rather than the adventuring party as a whole. Small and weak guilds often do little more than provide members with a place to belong and perhaps a bit of financial support). 

Influential and powerful guilds control entire economic markets and might even guide the course of their local government. The municipal government cannot afford to alienate the guild giving it substantial leverage to make demands. A guild that becomes this powerful often fixes prices, drafts legislation favorable to it, or dominates markets otherwise unrelated to its pursuits. 

They played an integral part in magical society. They play a big part in the economies of the cities, counties, & countries that they inhabit. Guilds can provide so much more than a healthy economy and a prosperous working class. Guilds have had an enormous impact on the economy of the territory it covered. These are the organizations that can offer experience and resources. They can be a benevolent ally, a training ground, or a client. A guild is a corporation, a union, & a cartel. This guild has a bureaucratic setup. The best way to hide a glyph of protection is by sheer scale. This is done through facets of a planned city such as walls, streets, lights, sewers, & buildings. 

This glyph of protection goes through the entire country. This glyph of protection protects the town, city, & kingdom that the Guild Order is inside of. The symbol passes unnoticed to all but only to a select few of powerful magic users who are grand magisters. It is later forgotten completely by the general public. It is discovered in blueprints and through birds eye view of airships, planes, or flying mounts. It is geometric magic that is hidden in plain sight that is a protection spell for the location. Built alongside the glyph of protection is a giant magic circle that channels energy for the magic users of the guild and adventuring guild. 

Hidden away beyond the mountains in a kingdom in the clouds held up by magic is his/her/their own personal magic tower as a grand magister of the circle of magi, magical society, and the magic council. A Circle of Magi consists primarily of spellcasters, but occasionally boasts non-casting members such as alchemists. Magicians, wizards, sorcerers, witches, necromancers, & warlocks make up most of the members. These magical councils offer comfortable and well-stocked libraries for research, and laboratories for experimentation. Perhaps more important is that they offer an environment where casters can exchange ideas and theories. Or simply a place where they can interact with those who actually understand them. 

The Circle of Magi is a magocracy and faction. A magocracy is a form of government where only those with ability in magic could wield power and influence. The magocracy of the Circle of Magi is a bureaucratic organization that touches nearly every corner of the Federation of Aehinara of the Alliance and the Legion. It is essentially a government in a government. Its citizens are the billions of users of magic in the Federation. 

Arcane councils are also valuable as political leverage in cities where governments or common folk love magic as magical humans, homo magi, & Indigenous magical humans make up a magical society. The circle of magi is a faction of an esoteric society of arcane spellcasters governed by a magical council. The magical council easily rivals the rulers. The Circle of Magi is the main ruling body of the entire magical world of Homo Magi, magical humans, & Indigenous magical humans. The Circle of Magi is the primary governing body of many of the kingdoms, empires, & nations of the Federation of Aehinara. 

The Circle of Magi magical council acts as a leading government. The magical council is governed by a magical parliament and magical congress of a house of representatives and senate. The magical parliament consists of a house of commons of a council of elders and a house of lords of a council of high elders. This magical government is led by an executive branch of a Grand Magister. 

These 11 high elders are elites that specialize within the schools of magic. Such as abjuration, alteration, conjuration, divination, enchantment, evocation, illusion, necromancy, transfiguration, and transmutation. The 11 high elders are indifferent to the thoughts and concerns of non magicals. The magical council's laws are made to suit the powerful and magical. They enforce a powerful monopoly on key aspects of magical society. The nobility of Aehinara often have magical or sorcerous bloodlines. Many of the past and present 11 of the magical council high elders have come from the bickering magical noble families. 

Many elders who are council members are looking for ways to increase their power, influence, control, & supremacy over the 11 high elder members of the Magical Council. The 11 high elders gained their positions of the magical council through various means. Some through the lineage of well known magical ancestors. Some through being an apprentice of an old master. Others were valedictorians of magical academies. Others were heroes in wars as magical users.

 The magical council became an arm of the rulers’ of the magical human kingdoms and leaders of the Indigenous magical human nations power base as a separate branch of the military. They provide intelligence, security, and act as a branch of the military as magical soldiers. The Circle of Magi is a governing body of the magical community. They are responsible for regulating and enforcing laws for the magical community. They are responsible for keeping the magical community safe from the non magical community. 

On the ground it has several bastions that protect it from invasion. The forts themselves are protected by outposts, guard posts, & guard towers. The magical tower has an unique design and layout tailored to his/her/their personality. It has an observatory for astronomy. It has a saloon and tavern to socialize. The magical tower has an alchemist laboratory where alchemists can brew potions, concoctions, potions, & elixirs. It has a workshop for artificers. The magic tower comes with a personal study for wizards. It has a witch cauldron for a witch coven to brew and concoct elixirs, potions, antidotes, brews, & concoctions. It has a large collection of magical lore. 

It has a bestiary full of mounted monster heads, especially a fire basilisk (with its eyes removed), a manticore, a cerberus, a chimera, & a hydra. It has an archive of magical artifacts. It has a large library of scrolls, manuscripts, parchments, tomes, & books. It has an arena for duels between magic users. It has a stable for mounts such as griffins, hippogriffs, hippocampi (sea unicorns), alicorns, unicorns, pegasi, wyverns, & drakes. It has an arena for duels between fighters. 

It has a training arena for apprentices. It has an astronomy tower with an observatory. It has apartments and homes for workers. It has a herbology garden with dozens of pots to grow small, medium, to even large magical plants. It has a maze with stone, rock, & metal golem guards. It has secret passages. It has a workshop for carving wands and talismans/amulets. 

It has a vivarium for caring for magical beasts, animals, & creatures such as shadow cats, evolved slimes, cerberus puppy, alicorn colt, micro griffon, kitsune nine tailed foxes, flying snakes, astral lynx, cub, guard drakes, shadow ravens, ghost pets, pseudo dragons, phoenixes, wyverns, displacer beast cub, thunderbirds, & hellhounds. 

It has a trophy room with the awards, deeds, & accolades they won as a swordfighter, gunslinger, & spellcaster and awards, certificates, & degrees they received at magical: elementary school, junior high, high school, community college, four year college, and military academy. 

It has a garden protected by a wood elemental, stone elemental, & nature elementals. It has a tailor famous for weaving clothes with dragon hide leather and giant spider silk. It has a crafting lab to craft, repair, customize, and upgrade equipment. It has an armory with weapons, armor, & shields. 

It has a treasure room with loot that he/she/they found from inside dungeons as an adventurer and quests as a guild member. It has a factory to create automatons. It has a viewing room magic mirror to scry on others. It has a room with a table with a crystal ball and tarot cards for cartomancy and divination for fortune telling. It has a summoning and banishing room for his/her/their patron as a warlock.

It is even bigger on the inside because of spatial magic. It is interconnected with other spires that connect to other magical towers. The magic tower is hidden away by illusions. The only way to reach it is by a portal network system. When an intruder attempts to access the portal when they aren’t supposed to it seals access from the portal network off. The magical tower is built on a magical leyline. 

It is built with a defense matrix. The magic tower is full of traps that deal with intruders. The magic tower has a room with magically bound guard monsters. The magic tower is defended against magic users with anti magic fields. The magical tower itself is protected by wards and charms and attacks intruders with hexes and curses. 

High King/High Queen of the Alliance and Coalition and leader of the Federation of Ahinara. The Alliance or Coalition represents everything good, lawful, tolerant, and progressive in the world. Self-proclaimed or otherwise. This is both an alliance between species and a coalition between nations. The ideals of the alliance are freedom, prosperity, and the security of its people. The alliance was organized by the heroic and righteous High King of the magical humans and Indigenous magical humans and the wise Dark Elven Empress of the Elven Empire. Who gets to define who’s good, lawful, and civilized in the world is an entirely different matter as history written by the victors and truth is defined by the powerful.

[doctorslippery]

Janeway's salamander baby all grown up and following in her parents path into star fleet.

Always thought it would've been an awesome idea when the Federation returned to the Delta Quadrant if they found a Janeway and Paris descended Salamander Empire or found a race of Salamanderians searching space for their fabled primogenitors.

[sinterling]

Sint's Warcraft Lore Journal

Entry 2: Revised History of the Centaur Pt.1, Zaetar

Exploring Azeroth - A Study of Our World's Cultures and Legacies

Centaur history is somewhat of a blurry one. Their birth is known, but just about anything else is fairly vague and the subject of legend. It is hard to keep a history when one's history is so bloodsoaked and so scattered.

So, Azeroth's best scholars have done what they could to reconstruct the timeline.

It's rather easy when you have access to the Emerald Dream. We were able to gain some measure of insight by asking the Primogenitor of the Centaur himself, Zaetar, whilst he rested in the boughs of Amirdrassil prior to its entry into Azeroth.

I first approached the Father of the Centaur with a query about the origins of his hybrid children, one which he at first bristled at, but quickly calmed from. His immediate irritation, it seems, is still from an ancient trauma and a regret just as old. The Keeper regaled me on this enigmatic history. I will quote him word for word.

"A world once whole was the world I ushered the Centaur into. Over ten thousand years ago, perhaps double that."

I will note now that our previous timeline estimated the origins of the Desolace Centaur around 1,100 years ago. The discrepancy is exciting.

"I exited the Dream, sent by my father to study why a once lush valley had been transformed into a barren waste. Concerned by the mass loss of life, I was quick to ascertain that the young tauren had awoken a servant of the Old Gods. I tracked her, hoping to destroy her and return the life energy she'd consumed to Desolace, but... when I found her, I did not find a monster. Safeguarded from the corruptive influences of her masters by the power of the life energy she'd devoured, Theradras was free. And to me, she was beautiful."

Theradras was always believed to have been an agent of the Old Gods. To hear that she was not, at least she was not for a time, is new information.

"I met her as an enemy, but in time, we fell in love. And akin to Elune and Malorne's union bringing my father, Cenarius, into the world - our union saw the Centaur born. This... is my greatest shame. When I saw that they were not children of the Dream, that they were mundane and mortal, I grew withdrawn. I believed them cursed. That Theradras and I had accidentally given form to a cursed union, and that they were doomed to serve the Old Gods."

"I retreated into Maraudon. Away from Theradras's power, I became susceptible to the influence of her old masters. And so, where we once fostered a Dream away from the Dream, I began to transform it into a Nightmare."

This predates the actual formation of the Emerald Nightmare. It seems like Zaetar may have been an early attempt by the Old Gods to corrupt the Emerald Dream. Perhaps more seeds were laid for the Dream's corruption than originally thought.

"My children, the ones I believed accursed, were the ones to slay me in my madness. Ironic, is it not? I was the accursed one."

He could not tell me what happened following his passing. While understandable, many of the new revelations his testimony brings desperately require expansion. Simply, with how ancient the centaur now appear to be, there are untold eons of history now missing.

Everything we know seems to be somewhat incorrect, or entirely incorrect. The only truth that is certain is that Theradras and Zaetar were responsible for all Centaur.

~Penned by Sion Findragon, Ambassador and Scholar

[regenos]

lucio tag dump

[minigiantsgiantblog]

Index Astartes: Prædicators

Origins

The history of the Inanis Prædicators can be traced back to the terrifying times around the Year of the Ghosts. The High Lords of Terra ordered a Chapter be founded from the Gene-legacy of the Silver Skulls, the line of Guilliman. Thadru Hucno, ‘The Void Herald’, was appointed as the Chapter’s first Lord Commander. Hucno was known for his superstitions, near-ritualistically talking into the void about his Prognosticators’ divinations, and it is from this practice which the Chapter’s High Gothic name derives.

This nascent Chapter and those which were founded alongside them were created from the most stable of gene-stock; how many chapters were founded alongside the Praedicators is unclear as a great many records have been lost within the labyrinth of the Administratum. All that is known is that at least half a dozen were founded, with the Howling Griffons being the most well-known. A majority of the Chapters from this founding follow the strict organisational and tactical guidelines of the Codex Astartes. Like most of the approximately one thousand chapters in existence, the Prædicators follow the doctrines of the Codex to an extent, but are also known for occasionally deviating from some of the less stringent requirements.

Thadru Hucno started the Praedicators upon a path that, for over seven thousand years now, has earned them a cold reputation throughout the Imperium. Since their inception, they have become known for holding an especially grim and fatalistic view of Mankind, stemming from the strange and terrible knowledge that is their burden. The inheritors of Hucno’s visions fight to deny the inevitable, bemoaning the high price they have to pay for such meagre gains as can be won in the wars against the enemies of the Imperium - but they fight on because that is what they were created to do. 

It started within a few years of their founding, as brothers with no prior signs of psychic ability began experiencing vivid hallucinogenic dreams. The Apothecaries now suspect that this was due to the slow mutation of their Catalepsean Node, a dark flaw in the Chapter’s gene-seed that they were at first loath to discuss with even their fellow Astartes. These dreams were glimpses into a horrifying future, and eerily mirrored the more worrying divinations the Chapter’s psychically-attuned Prognosticators were beginning to scry.

As the dreams progressed in severity they eventually had no choice but to reach out; first to the Adeptus Mechanicus and their Genator-Magos, Abdul Hazred, and then to the Ultramarines, the First Founding Chapter whose Primarch Roboute Guilliman was the primogenitor of the Silver Skulls Chapter who in turn were the Praedicator’s forebears. At every step their emissaries were turned away, cursed for being too frightening to be believed. Other servants of the Imperium seemed unable to see the truth staring back at them from beyond the stars; of how pointless Mankind is in this universe, and how the Imperium is the centre of nothing. The confession of their genetic mutation only brought the Imperium’s scrutiny down onto the Prædicators, and with it Inquisitorial investigation along with the immediate presumption of guilt which that entails. Faced with such levels of paranoia and suspicion, the Praedicators have now learned to stay quiet, until one day they may perceive someone who is truly ready to heed their warnings.

Charged with heretical thinking and deviation from the Imperial Creed, the Chapter was sentenced to purgatory along the Imperium’s isolated southern border. Their presence might still be of some use to the Imperium, and the location of their penitent exile was carefully chosen in order to repair the power and reach of the Adeptus Astartes, until such time as they could once again call themselves true Scions of Guilliman in thought and deed. Being haunted by unimaginable visions and nightmares has profoundly altered their tale to this day. Unlike their fellow descendants of Guilliman, the Prædicators never once aspired to take the pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Primarch before his un-prophesised return. Nor have they made obeisance to him in person since, for their visions have made them pariahs and they are still shunned by the Astartes whose gene-seed they bear.

Recruitment

Settling into their duty of protecting the periphery of the Segmentum Tempestus from Xenos incursions, an expeditionary fleet led by the Prædicators was tasked with mapping some essential yet unknown areas of the Veiled Region. Without this survey, the limited levels of navigation possible in this region would have continued to make it both difficult and dangerous to travel through. The Veiled Region  is known for being unstable at best, with perennial nebulae interfering with communication, not to mention the unusual levels of psionic radiation which often leave vessels to drift for days unable to re-enter the tumultuous Immaterium. Amongst the greatest dangers is its isolation from Astropathic communication, for psychic communication is reflected and echoed with only silence being returned. It was only due to the fleet’s particularly skilled Navigators that the exploration was even allowed, and their heroic efforts certainly explain why it was successful. Without them the fleet would be unable to traverse the frequently encountered breaking points of reality, pervasive nebulae, and vast stellar clouds. It was in this seemingly unknown and forgotten area of space, that the expeditionary fleet came upon what they had been told did not exist: human settlements! Under Imperial law they were prohibited, but the populations the fleet encountered seemed to be surviving and even thriving despite their separation from the light of the Astronomicon. What was more striking was the seemingly steady flow of vessels that came and went, bringing supplies and much needed trade, despite the innumerable Imperial edicts which they were breaking to do so.

All manner of vessels, it seemed, would frequently traverse through this region of space; merchants, miners, scavengers, prison ships, vessels belonging to darkholds, and even the occasional Rogue Trader’s personal flagship and attendant flotilla. Without these many visitors the far-flung human settlements would be isolated from one another and left unprotected. The Imperium functions on the premise that most core worlds do not need to be self-sufficient, instead focussing on the manufacture or production of a few key goods or resources which are then supplemented with essential goods from off-world. Without a steady stream of starships plying their way through the Veiled Region, interstellar trade could not exist, and the weapons and other supplies needed to stop each world falling into darkness would not be obtained.

Space travel beyond the boundaries of the Imperium is arduous and dangerous, with spacefarers relying on their ancient vessels’ powerful engines flinging them into the Immaterium - a black art poorly understood by the adepts of the Mechanicus in the forty-first millennium. Once vessels have entered warp-space they can cover thousands of light years within a relatively short time, dropping back into the Materium far beyond their starting points. The Warp ever seeks to drag helpless vessels to their doom, with its constant turbulence, and treacherous warp storms. To travel any distance at all through the warp is dangerous, impressive, and not attempted lightly. To travel between the distant worlds of the Veiled Region demanded a particular kind of dedication, madness, or disregard for the safety of those onboard. The alternative - travelling through realspace without the use of warp engines - brings its own hazards and challenges. And yet here were worlds visited by privateers and merchant princes, arriving via every means and from many directions.

Those aboard space-faring vessels in the forty-first millennium are not merely star travellers but the products of many generations passed in the darkness between worlds; these are the Void Born. They are relatively few among the teeming multitudes of humanity, but singular, and form a disparate and odd collection of misfits, strangers, and other ill-omened folk, birthed in the bellies of vessels that spend entire standard centuries charting a course through the stars. On the worlds the Void Born come to they are often shunned for their ethereal quality and considered to be unlucky, ill-fated, bringers of bad fortune, secretive, and untrustworthy. Most imperial citizens and no small number of fringe-dwellers believe the Void Born in some way to have been touched by the Warp where gravitational variance, radiation exposure, genetic distortion, and chaotic anomalies slowly take their toll. Ashore they carry a strange air about them, a perceptible something that makes others uneasy.

Darkholds

The Darkholders, the Void born from the spacefaring vessels with the darkest of reputations make up a greater proportion of the chapters chaplaincy than any other source. They are couched in stories of dire curses, bleak fortunes, baleful massacres, cannibalism, hauntings and worse. They are a breed apart to those with the wisdom to see it.

.

The plight of the Void Born was seen by the Praedicators as one mirroring their own; they too were homeless, and ostracised without just cause. Empathy overcame Hucno's soul. The Void Born, too, were somehow associated with the many and unfathomable dangers of the outer darkness. Their being inured to the Warp convinced the Lord Commander that they could serve as the source of recruitment for the aspirants who might safeguard the future of the Prædicators. Without a Homeworld of their own, the Chapter otherwise risked a slow dwindling through combat losses and the decline into old age that claims even the Astartes after many centuries. Having determined how they could sustain their Chapter, the Praedicators now settled into patrolling the periphery of the vastly unknown Veiled Region. This was ever a dangerous calling, with small groups of ships navigating amongst dense nebulae and newborn stars, suffering from waves of radiation cast off by discarded stellar matter whilst being cloaked from any hope of reinforcements or communication by swathes of stellar dust, and all the while patrolling along the galactic south of the Segmentum Tempestus, from which come the raiders and despoilers of the foul Xenos. The Void Heralds learned to deal with these conditions, or they died. The survivors became responsible for the surrounding areas of space, chief among them the Ainu System, the Nahmu Stars and the Hypnis Expanse. Apothecaries and Chaplains of the Prædicators recruit aspirants for the Chapter exclusively from the vast, city-sized spacecraft that ply the depths of the void; in this way, they follow the edicts of Lord Commander Hucno in order to ensure that the Chapter recruits only the most mentally capable and genetically suitable candidates.

Recruitment is slow and arduous, with no centralised pool of potential candidates to draw from and no way of knowing when the next suitable aspirant will be found within the innumerable shoals of voidfaring vessels. Chaplains must work within the labyrinthine political webs woven amongst the thousands of ships’ crew, often becoming embroiled in complex networks of feuds, alliances, and unpleasant little wars - all while taking care not to disrupt the carefully balanced system. Removing the wrong crewmember as a potential aspirant can potentially hamper the Void Born population's ability to maintain itself and properly crew a ship, depriving the Chapter of a valuable source of future recruits.

Brought to their space-bound fortress monastery, Cetus, to be inducted into the Prædicators the Void Born aspirants will step out to breathe in its unique ecosystem. Some fall into a catatonic, worshipful state when they see its grandeur. These failed aspirants are led away to serve the Chapter in other ways. Those who can take in the sight of Cetus without being overcome gradually learn that large portions of the vessel are used to emulate different combat environments for training purposes, while entire swathes of space are given to meditation. The great chambers and vaults are often decorated with tapestries depicting the terrifying nightmares they are to expect but most numerous of all are the seemingly endless barren halls. It is here that neophytes will undergo the long process of psycho-indoctrination, submitting to grueling biological and genetic testing before being implanted with the gene-seed that will sustain them through a lifetime of nightmares, turning their meagre bodies into killing machines, recreating the Void Born as a Void Herald. A once humble and frail recruit becomes the epitome of humanity, the perfect warrior and servant of the Imperium.

Cetus

Ostracised by their forebears, the Prædicators were never afforded the luxury of being gifted a mighty relic of the Imperium. A brief change in their fortune sometime in 35th millennium however afforded the Chapter their first, most powerful, and most prized possession; a pre-Imperial battlestation of unknown origins found floating abandoned around a neutron star, its organic crew long turned to dust by aeons of inimical radiation which had somehow left the vessel’s hardened Machine Spirit intact. Upon sanctification by the Adeptus Mechanicus this gigantic warship would go on to become the Chapter's space bound fortress monastery, flagship, and foremost warship. In form and scale, it is nearer a planetoid than a conventional vessel. Its foredeck can dock a dozen Imperial Navy Cruisers around its circumference. The vessel is a hive city in space, with its great spires reaching towards the stars. It bears a striking resemblance to the trident shaped Furious Abyss-class Super Battleships of the Great Crusade, the last known example of which was slaved to the Word Bearers legion and long thought lost to the Warp. Its potential rivals that of the more famous Phalanx, and if it were fully operational the Praedicators could boast of wielding firepower equivalent to a formidable fleet. For now the Cetus’ power is untested, yet as more and more of its mysteries are explored the Mechanicus swear they are coming ever closer to bringing its weapon systems fully online. For now it remains more of a figurehead, deterring any would-be attackers with its studded surface packed with arched gun batteries, the squat shape of its singular plasma lance, and arrays of Psionic charges - alongside other more esoteric defences which have yet to be fully revealed. Restoring the Cetus has already been the labour of millennia, and it may yet be centuries more before it leads the Chapter into action once more - a prophesied return which has taken on greater significance with each new divination scryed by the Prognosticators

Battlefield Doctrine

Following the same reading and understanding of Roboute Guilliman's Codex Astartes as their Predecessors, the Silver Skulls, the Praedicators stay close to the sacred tome’s main tenets. This has protected the Chapter from any further suspicion and scrutiny from the Inquisition. The inevitably of all that they know becoming enveloped in darkness never leaves their thoughts but War is their purpose; it is what the Heralds were created for, and it is their last source of pride and satisfaction.

The tactical orthodoxy is dictated to a degree by the fact that they are a Fleet Based Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes - some would say, the truest bearers of the name “Space Marines”. Their limited numbers ensure the Chapter is not used as a blunt instrument but instead to deliver precise and lethal strikes in a manner that could never be achieved by the faceless masses of the Astra Militarum. Millennia of repeated combat indoctrination has shaped them into the force they are today; efficiency in war is their only antidote for bemoaning the cost of taking something that achieves nothing, and being unable to stop the creeping darkness.

After making planetfall on a new world the Praedicators make the most of their precognitive psychic abilities by deploying as a predominantly defensive force. Their Techmarines and commanding officers orchestrate fire bases that use skilled marksmen and overlapping fields of fire to suppress oncoming attackers. Assault forces held in reserve wait for the opportune moment to disrupt their attackers further with well executed raids, attacking seemingly from all sides at once. These attacks have the dual goal of causing considerable damage and sowing confusion among the enemy ranks. Praedicators bemoan the cost of war and, so their reasoning goes, so too will those that try to defy them. It is said the only death the Praedicators fear is the slow death through madness which is the fate of so many Void Born; it is why they give no quarter and expect none in return. As with their predecessors it is not unknown to hear of the Prædicators displaying an unwillingness to go to another’s aid. After all, no one is willing to come to theirs, and sometimes the divinations simply show the cost to be too severe. It is perhaps this single fact which explains why they have survived for so long, and yet have so few allies even amongst their Astartes gene-kin.

Some opponents make the mistake of thinking the defensively-minded Praedicators are an inert force, slow to rouse and lacking in agility. Such thinking brings the enemies of mankind only woe. When the Chapter begrudgingly determines that they have to take ground, they will seek to overwhelm their foes so mightily that they may maintain offensive momentum at all costs. Nor are their assaults rash or under-prepared; preferring to engage directly after a carefully orchestrated orbital bombardment from their vast fleet assets, waves of drop-pod infantry and light equipment arrive with impeccable timing alongside Thunderhawk-deployed vehicles and other heavy assets.

Chapter Scouts will most often be required to gather vital intelligence - a mission which can demand they face the foe under a huge range of dangerous  circumstances. This hard-won knowledge is used to confirm or expand on the information gained from the Prognosticators divinations. Scouts are further used in the disruption of enemy supply lines through sabotage and demolition actions, as well as to eliminate key targets with crippling campaigns of assassination missions and pre-emptive strikes.

Their collective actions are often mistaken for bravery and courage. In truth, the Praedicators stand before the enemies of the Imperium unflinchingly as they consider themselves worthless. It is only thanks to the Chaplains that walk among them in the heat of battle, reminding them of their purpose, their sole responsibility, that they continue to fight. Without strong leadership they might otherwise lapse into dark thoughts: the want to die, the want to despair, and the want to return to nothing.

Organisation

An outside observer would find it difficult to spot any differences between the Prædicators and a chapter rigidly adhering to the tenets of the Codex, such as the Ultramarines. Prædicators have been considered a near Codex Astartes-adherent chapter for much of their history, although the nature of a fleet-based chapter does require some flexibility in this regard, with isolated fleet elements being forced to adapt their tactics to the resources available to them. Additionally, the Prædicators fight predominantly without direct Imperial support due to their ill-omened reputation, instilling in them a sense of self-reliance uncommon in many Codex-style chapters who are more comfortably meshed in the greater Imperial war machine.

It is in the organisation of the higher levels that deviations from the Codex Astartes can be seen. All Chapters include a number of officers and specialists who stand aside from the company organisation. In the Prædicators the Chapter Master is referred to as Lord Commander, as was the way of their predecessors, the Silver Skulls. The Librarians, known as Prognosticators, share the mantle of spiritual advisors (alongside their Brother-Chaplains); these psychically attuned warriors are the seers of the Chapter, scrying for divination of the future. Wherever their visions take them, they grant the squads and companies they are attached to an undeniable edge for the coming battles.

The Chapter relies on a large support staff, and highly ranked members include the Master of the Fleet, and the senior Captains: the Keeper of the Arsenal, the Abyssal Watcher, and the Warden of the Watch. Although each Captain is a Space Marine, there are actually relatively few Brethren in the Chapter’s support staff, and most non-combatant roles are performed by the Chapter’s Human serfs. The Chapter includes a large number of support staff, many of whom are non-combatants of advanced age tasked with the day-to-day administration of the Chapter. The largest group of Prædicators Space Marines in the support staff are the Chapter’s armourers and Techmarines, who are aided in their tasks by hundreds of mono-task Servitors.

The ten companies follow the structure laid down within the Codex, with the first company being made up of the most experienced Veterans among the Chapter’s ranks. Their wisdom is invaluable, and so they are attached to the Battle Companies to share their knowledge, deployed in small units and essentially armed in a similar manner to a Tactical squad though admittedly with their enhanced scopes and specialised ammunition. Only the most experienced of the Veterans will be permitted to wear the few suits of Terminator armour available to the Chapter. Unless the need for their presence on the battlefield is dire, these suits can be seen watching over you as you enter the forge on Cetus. Prædicator Techmarines have gone to extensive lengths to recover fallen suits of Terminator armour so that they may once more see battle.

The 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th Companies are organised along Codex lines as Battle Companies. Each consists of six battleline squads, two close support squads, and two fire support squads. These four companies and their fleets form the main battle lines and generally bear the brunt of the fighting, whether planetside or in the void. Each has a degree of autonomy and with such a variety of squads, the Companies are highly flexible and tactically adaptable.

Companies 6 and 7 are reserve Companies, each consisting of ten battleline squads. These act as reserves which may be used to bolster the front line, launch diversionary attacks or stem enemy flanking manoeuvres. With such low recruitment rates these are rarely ever at full strength. The 7th company is barely seen at all, and some say it exists now in name only.

The 8th Company consists of ten close support squads. This highly mobile company is often equipped with jump packs, and is fielded in the assault role wherever a strong hand-to-hand fighting force is needed to storm an enemy strongpoint.

The Prædicators’ 9th Company follows the doctrines laid out in the Codex, unlike their progenitors the Silver Skulls, who designate their 9th Company as a siege company. In the Prædicators, this Company consists of ten Fire Support Squads. It is the most powerfully equipped in the Chapter and is used to bolster defence and provide long-range support.

The 10th Company consists of a number of Scout squads; youths who have been recruited and partially transformed into Space Marines. There is no formal size for the company as the rate of recruitment is not fixed. They are the only company to not maintain its own fleet, and instead operate directly from Cetus. Never fighting as one coherent force, they are instead assigned throughout the other fleets where they can gain experience alongside their elders. 

All of the companies, with the exception of the Scout Company, maintain transports and Drop pods for each of their squads and officers. The armoury hold onto rarer equipment more centrally, including heavy vehicles such as Land Raiders, with each of these relic war machines being allocated to individual squads as dictated by the needs of their mission or when requested by a Captain in the midst of a campaign.

Many of the Battle companies and Reserve companies include a number of Dreadnoughts. These remain a part of the company in which the warrior served before being interred within the metal sarcophagus from which he fights; his continuing presence always bolsters the company’s fighting strength considerably.

Chapter Cult and Belief System

Haunted by their dreams, and seen as secretive, the ill-omened Prædicators are Void Born and know of the unfathomable dangers of the outer darkness. Just as they did before wearing the mantle of Astartes, they continue to carry a strange air about them; a perceptible yet undefinable something that makes even the bravest of the warriors from other Astartes Chapters uneasy around them.

The Heralds know first-hand the horrors of space and the sheer multitude of the Emperor's enemies. This knowledge forces these voidfarers - plying the dark spaces between the stars while holding a deeper darkness within - to insulate their brotherhood from that which they are duty bound to protect. Thus they live a life of renunciation, rejecting what they know is always lurking in the void beyond the hull.

From deep within the Librarium, the minds of the Prognosticators look far out into the cold vastness of space, seeing further than any of their less gifted brothers’ dream-visions. Their sight will pierce the encroaching black veil for only a second, there to witness a momentary eternity of endless shrieking immemorial lunacy. They rarely speak of the eldritch contradictions of all matter, force, and cosmic order that scorch their mind. They have uncovered the abyss beneath their illusory sense of connection with Mankind; it is their gift, and their burden.

What all Brothers see is a senseless, mechanical, and uncaring universe. Mankind dissolves into meaninglessness when impermanence is the only real thing. They have tried for so long to look away and to wake from these terrible dreams, but with no understanding their minds are pulled and stretched further. The strain is too much for some. Staring deep into the void for so long, it now only stares back, as a contradicting reflection of what they have become: Reclusive, Withdrawn, Taciturn; Denizens of the Deep.

No ordinary Prædicator will be remembered, for all legacies will be burned, but the stars will live on. To recount tales of mankind’s history and achievements only delays the inevitable entropic devouring of every shred of memory, every artifact, and every settled world. Given that, the most solemn of causes is that of the Apothecarion; for their paradoxical role is to prepare for a future that does not appear to exist. The millennia of screeching divinations and torturous dreams have left the Prædicators with only a cold senseless taste of hopelessness. Their actions cannot be compared to the fate that awaits us all; it will all be dust. Humanity’s time has come, no longer belonging in the only place they have ever known.

That tenet disturbs the Ecclesiarchy for not only does it deny the existence of their God-Emperor but also all that He opposes, and all that He supposedly defends us against. It puts the Praedicators at odds with the Adeptus Mechanicus, and particularly challenges the Techmarines within their ranks who have sworn ancient pacts with the Omnissiah. To find a follower of the Imperial Cult not openly hostile to what they consider such blasphemy seems impossible. And should the Praedicators sow their thoughts into the mind of one receptive to their message… that would be the darkest day indeed. The Praedicators reject the concept of the God-Emperor because to perpetuate such an idea - of a deity that can save us from the unsavable - only serves to deny that we are alone, and hopeless in the grandest of schemes.

Realisation of the inevitable fate that belongs to us all is creeping into our galaxy, like the tendriled Void Stalker of the Warp approaching their prey. Aside from perhaps He who now sits on the Golden Throne mankind could never fathom, fully understand, or explain fate; but it is nearly upon them all, and the Praedicators believe that it will become known as a blessed release once every citizen of the Imperium realises that their fate is no longer in anyone’s hands. 

The Praedicators have no particular hatred of Xenos races, though they will gladly extinguish them if given the chance. Though all Xenos are dangerous to mankind, they are considered neither good nor evil. The greatest of the other species are merely incomprehensible, cosmic forces, that notions of morality have no significance to. They exist in cosmic realms beyond our understanding, and cannot serve as a bulwark against the darkness - but may by their mere existence hasten its encroachment. By this simple logic, they must die if mankind is to cling on a little longer in this uncaring galaxy.

While the Deathwatch and Ordo Xenos’ mode operati is considered narrow and flawed, for individual Prædicators to be assigned to a Watch Station or Fortress is celebrated, as the destruction of the Inhuman is seen as one of the last remaining noble causes in the galaxy. In the darkest millennium it needlessly stands out with towering majesty to give hope to those that have none.

Prognosticators

Prognosticators are hybrid officers fulfilling the role of Librarian, alongside tasks more traditionally assigned to the Chaplaincy in other Chapters. While the Praedicators’ Chaplains play a larger role in the recruiting and training of new aspirants, the Prognosticators guide and shepherd the veteran Brethren, administering to the psionic and mental well-being of the Chapter's warriors. 

These dour warriors are the seers of the Chapter, reading their brothers’ dreams or scrying for divination of the future, granting the squads and companies they are attached to an edge for the coming battle. The Chapter takes the readings seriously, so much so that on some occasions, the Prognosticators have successfully counselled against the Chapter becoming embroiled in a particular war. This can prove problematic, as it heaps greater suspicion upon an already mistrusted Chapter. At times this balancing act has even led to companies taking part in conflicts they know will end in defeat. 

Upon a Prognosticator’s armour, pendants, and badges of office can be found Chthonic marks and runes engraved into the surface. These are not purely decorative, as they serve to channel and concentrate the Prognosticator’s psychic powers.

Given their role as wards of the psionic and spiritual health of the Prædicators, it is a rare thing indeed for a Prognosticator to take the Apocryphon Oath, and serve a Vigil of the Long Watch with the Deathwatch, the Chamber Militant of the Ordo Xenos. In accepting a Prognosticator into his Watch Fortress, a Watch Commander gains the services of an individual of unique skill and ability. His knowledge of both the Librarian’s arts and the duties of the Chaplain are of course valuable. Yet the greatest of the Prognosticators are able to extend their ministrations to all of the Battle-Brothers they serve alongside, inspiring each and every one to epic deeds of courage, and diverting the flow of history so that these warriors can return to their chapters as heroes. It is said that it is only by the actions of those few Prognosticators who have taken the Oath that the Prædicators have gained any reputation as trustworthy allies whatsoever.

Apothecaries

The most solemn of individuals tasked with the most solemn of tasks; it is their role to mind the physical wellbeing of their battle-brothers. Not all injuries, however, can be detected with a Narthecium scan. A medic from any other chapter might be oblivious to the emotional damage that eats away at the Praedicators. The Void Born Apothecary, however, knows only too well the torment that his brothers endure, for they too are emotionally scarred from their nightmares.

Techmarines

Those amongst the Prædicators with an affinity for technology are dispatched to Mars, honouring ancient pacts formed with the Adeptus Mechanicus millennia ago upon their founding. There they are initiated into the Martian tech-cults to become Techmarines. This process divides the brothers' duality complex into a triality nightmare, but it is acknowledged as a necessary process. Without Techmarines the Prædicators would be left unable to tend to the machine spirits, to observe the rites that ensure continued operation of their wargear, to repair damage taken on the field of battle, or to attend to the needs of the Fleet.

After their training on Mars they return even more mysterious and capricious, aloof and distant. Their inscrutable ways are not easily understood by most of the battle-brothers. For many they do not understand themselves, lost in doubt, dwelling on the idea that if even their Machine-God may not be eternal then their new-found faith cannot be real. Prædicator Techmarines struggle for their entire lives to unravel their three competing ideologies: the Liber Mechanicus and the Omnissiah; the Chapter’s sacred duty; and its nihilistic creed. Eternity becomes their supreme desire, fearing that nothing is real that is not eternal. 

The Prognosticators that discern their dreams tell of only vague impressions of a sleep-addled mind but they all tell the same story. It is no ordinary nightmare. There is a prison deep below the surface, and something that stands a mile high but moves like flesh and blood. A rustle of wings, and a set of claws; how small the Techmarines stand beside those claws... They feel him beneath the sand, they see his dreams, and so they are consumed by another fear to be believed absolutely. Yet they cling to their visions for they sometimes reveal the location of priceless relics and STC files waiting to be found. In the end the fear and the doubt is all incidental, inevitable, and something to be borne stoically at all costs.

Dreadnoughts

The mightiest fallen Prædicators, those whose souls blaze most fiercely in denial of the dying of the light, are preserved and held back a while longer from their final rest. The restless memories of the ancient heroes who pilot these war machines can extend back to the founding years of their Chapter and its earliest history. They are revered by other Space Marines, not just as potent warriors, but also as exemplars who have endured and continue to resist millennia of hauntings from all that they have seen, and all they have dreamt. Unlike the interred veterans of other Chapters, these courageous warriors and fallen heroes prefer not to sleep within the ancient crypts alongside their deceased brothers in arms. Instead war continuously calls them into the service of the Imperium.

House Vibro

A once great house of the Navis Nobilite whose family estate was located within the Imperial Palace on Terra, House Vibro is now considered nothing more than a pauper house by all those in the Segmentum Solar. 

Their fall from grace was a result of petty rivalry, political subterfuge, and social maneuvering.

An event known as The Tainting came about as agents of rival House Numa tricked a key heiress of House Vibro into a marriage of state with the little-known House Nostromo. A marriage of convenience intended to consolidate power and grow the fortunes of House Vibro was revealed as a fateful error, as the insanity within the bloodline of Nostromo entered their once idyllic family tree. The repercussions took generations to reveal themselves. By the time that it became clear how many of the matriarch’s great-grand-children bore the now-undeniable genetic flaw, it was too late; for the two Houses had become inseparably intertwined. 

House Vibro abandoned their estate, seeking to escape the socio-political fallout and begin their legacy anew in a system where their reputation might not be forever marred by the insanity of House Nostromo. Having traversed the stars to find a new home, eventually establishing their small palace in orbit around Ulthar in the Ainu System; it was there, over many centuries, that they slowly adapted to the void, growing spindly-limbed, willowy-tall, and with a bluish tinge to their skin.

They conducted business by bartering their services to the captains of any vessel or fleet in need of Navigators: merchants, miners, scavengers, prison ships, darkholds, occasionally Rogue Traders, and many years later the Prædicators. The Veiled Region was tumultuous at best, and House Vibro quickly earned the reputation that there were no better Navigators to be had if a captain’s heart was set on going through it. 

The Prædicators were in dire need of expertise in mapping some of the most unstable and unpredictable areas of space within the Veiled Region, and House Vibro in turn could utilise the political capital and prestige they would gain from working alongside the Adeptus Astartes. Their association has remained intact since the start of the Astartes’ purgatory sentence, and upon successfully mapping some of the most dangerous areas within the Veiled Region, House Vibro now holds an exclusive Charter Navigae which means that they alone provide a Navigator for every ship in the Void Heralds’ fleet. An unspoken term of the contract involves the occasional lapses into madness shown by the descendants of long-dead Nostromo: with a certain rate of attrition only to be expected among the Navigators, the House takes pains to provide several replacements to each fleet, as well as a special attache to smooth over any diplomatic incidents. Navigators seconded to oversight roles include Novator Italki Vibro, who personally oversees the Cetus despite its current lack of readiness for Warp-space jumps. 

The Astartes of the Praedicators and the Navigators of House Vibro share a grim fatalism when it comes to matters regarding the nature of reality and the likely fate of mankind. Few would understand this shared common belief, and it may well be the foundation upon which their long and successful association stands. They both consider one another a most welcome asset, and for the Prædicators at least one their bond with House Vibro is one of the few true alliances they have. 

House Vibro shares with the Chaplains of the Praedicators information gleaned from across their extended family network. With the sons and daughters of the House serving alongside merchant and miner captains, scavenger leaders, prison-ship operators, and even the few Rogue Traders they conduct business with openly, there is much to be learned and passed on.  To the Chaplains, the Navigators are a bountiful source of information from across the breadth of the stars, helping them to discern what possible threats they may face, what is occurring in the wider galaxy, and (most importantly) where they should direct their efforts in the never-ending search for possible new recruits.

In return the Lord Commander attaches a ten man squad of Prædicators to the House as bodyguards which are referred to as the Starblades.  Apart from regular guard duties, the Starblades may be called upon to train or lead the troops of House Vibro, undertake covert operations on their behalf, or be present aboard one of the many Vibro trading vessels. The Starblades are sworn to serve the Novator of the house as they would the Lord Commander. Because of this ancient alliance, the Void Stalker that is the symbol of the Praedicators  is also depicted on the Vibro family crest.

Amongst the surviving elders of the House, scant few recall an earlier time when another promising alliance - likewise built upon convenience and the lust for power - turned to ash and madness as the true extent of what they had bound themselves too became apparent. The Praedicators’ visions are silent on this matter, or perhaps being deliberately withheld from their allies. Only time will tell if the most ancient of Navigators in House Vibro can see something that the Novator does not. For now, officially at least, the binding of House and Chapter remains a rare source of pride and rekindled hope.

Gene-seed

The descendants of the line of Guilliman, through the legacy of the Silver Skulls, bore Gene-seed renowned for its stability. So it was upon the founding of the Prædicators, though some may whisper that the legacy of enduring wholeness died with the first Lord Commander’s gene-kin. Whether the Gene-seed is now considered pure or aberrant, it is true that its incorporation only exacerbates the distinguishing features of the typical Void Born recruit: drawn features, pallid skin, and a characteristically haughty air.

It was not long after the Chapter’s founding that the Catalepsean Node in many aspirants began to exhibit signs of a peculiar mutation. Operationally, it still controls the Marine’s circadian rhythms and responses to any kind of sleep deprivation, allowing them to stay awake at full effectiveness for days at a time. Unusually, they often prefer to do so; for when they sleep they are consumed with potent, disturbing, and dark dreams, overwhelming them with dread. Prognosticators scry these dreams to glean small hints of the future, whose own dreams travel out so much further, giving them all cold black dancing in their eyes.

The Apothecaries do what they can to ease the burden of such nightmares. Those who find them all too much and are slowly driven insane are led away in pentagrammically warded chains to a chamber deep in the bowls of Cetus, where they will mutter nonsensically for their eternity about what placid island of ignorance we live in among black seas of infinity. Prognosticators study their cryptic words and piece together the dissociated pieces of knowledge revealed therein - opening up terrifying vistas of reality, and learning of our frightful position therein. 

Primaris Marines

Nearly every Space Marine created since the First Founding possesses nineteen specialised organs derived from their Chapter’s unique gene-seed. The Primaris Marines, however – originally engineered by the Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl on the orders of Roboute Guilliman – are implanted with a further three. It was the Sangprimus Portum, a device containing potent genetic material harvested from the Primarchs, that allowed for this breakthrough. Entrusted to Cawl by Guilliman shortly after the Second Founding, this device resulted in a new breed of Adeptus Astartes that were deployed en masse in the Ultima Founding. Due to Cawl’s interpretation of his orders and the millennia-spanning labour of his task – during which Guilliman was injured and suspended in stasis – the secrets of these new Primaris organs were not released until late in the 41st Millennium. Despite being ostracized and cast out as pariahs, ultimately, as with most Chapters, the Prædicators received envoys of the Primarch.

Initially the Primaris were universally met with mistrust, although in each case the reasons were different. The first wave brought mistrust and suspicion down upon themselves, with their oft-repeated claims that the Praedicator’s own Primarch Roboute Guilliman had returned, an event that seemingly was not envisaged by the Chapter’s Prognosticators. The second wave was shunned because of the Chapter Cult itself – could these fresh symbols of resurgent hope ever truly understand that the ending is nigh? With time, those Primaris who have experienced the same nightmares in their sleep-addled brains as any Firstborn battle-brother have grown to be accepted and even well-received, though lingering doubts remain as to whether any of them could fall into madness - and what does it say of them that they cannot fully embrace what it is to know of the Void?

At present, the Chapter’s Cult has been reluctant to fully embrace the Primaris as equals. The Chaplains, Prognosticators and Apothecaries of the Primaris are if anything made even less welcome than their ordinary brothers, as they are seen as lacking the ability to empathise with the Firstborn when it comes to the mental torture they risk with every sleep cycle. Time will tell as to whether the Primaris become full and true Denizens of the Deep, or whether they will be left to quietly wither away and be forgotten. That said, there are those that fear the Primaris for another reason entirely; namely, that they represent the fulfilment of a long-held belief that the End of Days is nigh. Certainly, enough has happened to make some within the Chapter believe the end is coming far sooner than they had previously gleamed, and with Primarichs returning and Custodes abroad once more, perhaps in time the Primaris will be seen not as unwelcome outsiders, but the fulfilment of a prophecy scryed ten millennia ago?

Power Armour

Even with gene-seed implantation complete, there is one final stage that must take place before an aspirant can be called a Prædicator– he must be clad in the distinctive sea green armour. The enclosing suits worn by all Space Marines are made from thick ceramite plates that would be cumbersome but for electrically motivated fibre bundles that replicate the movements of the wearer and supplement his strength. The last gene-seed organ to be implanted in a Space Marine – the black carapace – rests beneath the skin, itself fitted with neural sensors and transfusion ports. These plug-in points mesh with Space Marine armour, linking the wearer’s nervous system to his suit’s mind-impulse controls and turning the suit into a second skin that moves with all the speed and precision of the battle-brother’s own body. Without the carapace, Space Marine armour is almost impossible to use, and it is therefore the most distinctive feature of a battle-brother and the true mark of the Adeptus Astartes. There are several marks of power armour with significantly differing appearances.

Having existed as a Chapter since the 33rd Millennium the Prædicators have collected a large assortment of older marks of armour. All of which have been maintained by skilled artificers who are not Space Marines, but servants who spend their lives working for the Chapter. Comparatively you will usually find other Chapters reserve the rights to wear these ancient suits of armour that have been lavishly restored to the ceremonial guards or elite units. The Prædicators on the other hand do not, and it is common to see Prædicators wear a multitude of older types of armour as well as suits composed of many different marks of armour.

[that-lieutenant]

Of the relationship between Mairon and the orcs

An assortment of various of my HCs in one shot format i guess

[This is my first time writing fanfic (whaaat) and i sadly don‘t have an ao3 account yet (but i‘ll get to it once my personal life isn‘t hell anymore) so please consider giving this some love :) ]

Also: this is heavily influenced by @lemurious writing (because all my silm interpretations nowadays are, i just love their content ahh)

His people.

His headstrong, steadfast, steel hard, loyal, ingenious, beautiful people.

When he first came upon them, their bodies had already adapted perfectly to the cold northern tundra of their homeland. Thick grey skin, heavy hair, stocky build.

The wars would add countless scars and burns and limbs of metal.

But that was later.

When he first met his people what was war to them? To him? Who knew then about the horrors they would be forced to face at the hands of the other species of Arda? At a time when they did not even know there were other species.

When he first came upon his people he thought they were the firstborn children Eru had shown the Ainur in their vision. He thought he had been successful in discovering them first, before the other Valar could. He had been so relieved that they would be spared a life in the stifling superficial horror that was Valinor.

And they really are the firstborn. These other, warm skinned, bright eyed, spindly thin creatures that came pouring back from west a couple centuries later, who were they but Valarin lackeys, transformed beyond recognition? And then they demanded land and loyalty and called their primogenitors disfigured and corrupted.

He knows now that he should not have been so surprised back then that these usurpers had shown themselves to have come with the blessing of Illuvatar. After all what were firstborn to Eru? Truly, what had been He Who Arises In Might, the firstborn of the Ainur, what had been his people, the firstborn of his children, to Eru?

The actions of this absentee god would speak clear words in the following millennia, they would come to learn.

When he first came to meet the true firstborn, when he lived among them, when he learned their customs, their language, their love and he found connections so deep they would fuel him for ages to come, that was when he knew he had found his people. And together with their leaders and his own brethren they were able to lay the foundations for a culture that would thrive in spite of its creator and the eternal war this creator perpetuated.

In merely a few centuries, together they were able to develop technologies that would not be seen again the following age.

And then?

The wrath and unquestioned self-righteousness of their enemies erupts over Beleriand and the years of intense warfare lead to brutal massacres. On both sides – he is nowhere close to being without fault; that fierce love of his people has lead him to commit some of the most heinous acts of violence over and over again – but even now he remembers climbing down into the ruins of their underground cities after their defeat. He remembers the protective bunkers filled with civilian bodies and standing in their spilled blood.

The ones that got out in time were mostly soldiers because they had been evacuatable once the defeat was imminent. But the workers, the engineers, the caretakers, the children, those who they had wanted to keep safe in the bunkers? It was too late for them by the time they realises that nothing they could do would stop the fortress from being taken. And then the Valar went on and slaughtered them all.

It is his fault. And at the time it seemed like the worst one he would ever make.

As a nuclear firestorm destroys Beleriand, as the remnants of an entire continent drown in the sea behind them, and he and what is left of his people loose everything, the only thing he can do is lead them away, further and further east. Until he can‘t even do that anymore.

Because at that point everything just collapses in on him. His work has been shattered to pieces, all his brethren and most of his trusted generals killed, his lord, his partner, his lover, his pillar was taken and with that he just stops functioning.

In their hour of greatest need he abandons his people. After all, the only thing he ever seems to bring to them is war and death.

For a millennium he just… There is no purpose, no responsibility. Distantly he hears of the hardships his people are facing now in the East. How slow civilisations develop without the energy of a Vala or three radiating stones to power them. But he shuts it all out. He becomes numb to it.

And strangely, when he stumbles upon the new settlements of the second firstborn he isn‘t filled with unadulterated unstoppable rage. He is just tired. After all, what, truly, are these creatures but the Valar‘s playball in their game of who-is-the-most-despicable-without-realising? And strangely, these Eldar do not recognise who he is.

So why not, he thinks. Why not live in easy expedients for once, why not push away the past and continue to abdicate any responsibility he has to his that people? He crafts a name and a lie to start his new life of ignorance is bliss.

Oh, sweet Tyelpe. How easy it is to share the discoveries they had made in the first age with this ellon when the reward is all eyes big of wonder and desperation to discover more of this „Valinorian“ technology. It is so much like in the old days when he and his brethren and the best scientist of his people would find new methods and formulas to describe the world around them that he can‘t help but loose himself in the intelligent conversations of their workshop, the peaceful thriving of their city, the warm tenderness of their embrace.

They work to create better methods of gaining and storing energy then until they eventually develop the rings that can provide enough power to sustain entire cities.

They plan to make rings for the strongholds of dwarves and men and Eldar. But what about his people, he finds himself thinking. These technologies that are now used in the elvish kingdoms, they are only a small part of what was developed by and for him and his people in the first place. So what about his people?

He feels restless now. Old anger at injustice and blind self-righteousness arise in him again. In secret he starts travelling to the settlements his people have made in a country they call Mordor. The conditions there are rough and the technology now primitive compared to their glorious past but he sees a lot of recent progress.

All of the generals and leaders of old are long dead now and it takes a lot of time and effort to convince his people to trust him again, that he can and will help and that he won‘t abandon them again. They start building an underground city and a fortress once more, Barad-dûr, where the energy will be harvested. He creates a ring more powerful than any of the ones before. It has to supply the entire population after all.

When he returns to Eregion something has changed.

He can feel a strange charge in the air. Are the Eldar suspecting something? They all seem very worried at the sudden surge of activity in Mordor and he is starkly reminded that these Eldar, at the end of the day they still view his people as an ultimate but also undignified threat.

He knows something is wrong when Tyelpe suggests that their rings might also be used as a weapon. One of mass destruction. Mass destruction of his people that is. Tyelpe leaves that unsaid but it is clear as day what he means.

He doesn‘t need to worry about the rings for the elven cities anymore, Tyelpe tells him then and smiles.

A primordial fear settles into his bones. The horror at what is to come turns his stomach. What has he done? How could he have given all this help, all this power to the Eldar when they would only turn around and use it against his people?

He remembers sitting outside on some steps, pulling at his hair, his entire body shaking, growing increasingly mad at all the options that seem to slip out his hands one by one. And when Tyelpe comes to meet him there the only thing left for him to do is to push the ellon against a pillar, knife to his eye and demand the elvish rings he devised in secret. But Tyelpe laughs bitterly and spits in his face.

So it is truly you, the abhorred one, the dark foe‘s torturer, his whore.

This time it is his own wrath that razes cities to the ground. His people are ready for war. They have to be. And the next centuries are dictated by mindless destruction and production lines of battle machinery being the first thing that is re-introduced into the city of his people.

But still the population grows again, the conditions improve, their underground civilisation expands and he finds that he can make alliances with some of the human tribes and kingdoms that they had given rings of power to.

He and his people once again find ways to live in perfect symbiosis with the harsh climate of their land. Volcanic soil is fertile, air and water can be filtered and the ring offers them enough power to sustain artificial lights for growing crops underground and more.

It‘s progress but one that they keep secret. Because just like he is fuelled by the fear of elvish development, the Eldar would surely bring about another war of wrath if they knew about the advancements of his people.

The whole Numenorean ordeal that followed some centuries later was a mess. When that conquerer-king and his armies march upon Mordor he has no choice but to give in quickly. They cannot risk being invaded. Luckily these men are self-complacent enough to take their smugness and their ‚victory‘ and leave again. Though they also feel the need to drag him to that forsaken island of theirs.

Ar-Pharazon truly was a conquerer. He stretched his hands further and further for more colonies on the continent while his nation corroded away with by civil war. The golden king took and took from everyone around him and the displays of subjugation he was continually forced to perform to this king were manifold and in all kinds of ways.

Of course the wrath of the Valar that they unleashed upon the island as soon as they felt slightly threatened in their superiority was in the end blamed on him. He only ever indulged the Numenoreans‘ fantasies. When they brought him to their island it was already on the brink of collapse with conflict and misanthropic ideologies. Sure he, too, lost himself a bit in that collective insanity; he was complicit, so was everyone else. And then Eru felt they could cast judgement upon all these individuals and drowned yet another continent.

He laughs in the face of such insolence. It‘s hysterical, maybe more so a scream.

Then the water hits his body. It presses all the air out, breaks his ribs, crushes his lungs.

When he awakes again he is floating on a piece of driftwood, endless blue stretches around him. His body is raw and for some reason he finds himself unable to shift form anymore. He starts to panic, tries to force his particles to regroup in a way that forms a bird, a fish, something, he needs to get out of this blue emptiness now, he needs to – what is happening??

There is another war at the end of that age, but by that time his memory has turned into an indecipherable blur. It leads to yet more massacre. But worst of all, they take the ring.

For him it is as if all the tissue that holds him together suddenly loosens. He falls to his knees, sacks into himself. He can feel his spirit oozing out of the leaks that now penetrate his form. He stumbles back.

In the underground city the lights go dark, the industrial production comes to a standstill, the water and air filters turn off. His people pour out of their homes once they start to starve, once they realise that their military has lost the war and that their government has no way of dealing with the catastrophe.

They are in need but once again he is abandoning them. He is just so tired.

In the tower there is a large tank with cooling liquid for the energy production of the ring that he now lies in. In the pitch-black darkness his bones have started to shine with a dim fluorescent green. His body has started to disintegrate.

Outside he can feel the remnants of his peoples civilisation fall to ruin a second time. It takes only a few decades for them to return to the primitive conditions of their life without a secure energy supply.

And then suddenly it‘s not only his body that disintegrates anymore but the heavy elements in him too. At a faster rate than is normally used to power an Ainu‘s body that is. The heat of the nuclear fission that has set in brings the coolant to the boil and he had just barely enough mind and willpower left to set off the steam turbine. With a thudding noise the whole energy plant slowly comes to life again.

And for the next millennia Mairon lies submerged in the coolant tank, his body glowing and radiating and falling apart, his atoms splitting and powering a city that has been abandoned and he can only hope that his people will come back and reclaim what is theirs by right and rebuild their lives, their culture, their technology with the last energy that he has to give.

[blackvahana]

They call to her: heavy-breasted, weighing down the ocean itself. Bhairavi-esque, the sign of God, the equality of the three lands. When they enter... She is he here and gender is beyond them, but they remember the archetype of the Mother - they remember the archetype of the Father, too, and they bend with the waves of the Primogenitor. Equality of three that are two that is one.

They squeak with tiny voices, voices that slide between pitches, artificial echoes of fragmented dream-speak like radios playing seamlessly amongst real talk. Each and every one is a star in the sky of the Moon, moving about with his tempo, his marching music.

I close my eyes and see a vivid ammonite spiral burned into my retinas. This is the march forward... No, they're created with the knowledge of time. They have to understand their birth carries their death with it. They were born to be killed, and specifically that means they live through their deaths.

Each point of connection is learning, synapses come from the Untouchable God being so close to touching his reflection in the metal of the mirror behind the glass. Every point of intersection is learning: Birthing is eyes; looking is eyes; touch is eyes; sex is eyes; death is eyes; so many things are eyes, and here for these creatures their existence is eyes. Their birth and death, too, are eyes.

They scrape the bottom of the sea. The Flock flies through the air and forms a CCTV-like network for the Crow Father to watch through, act through, these though... They are the result of asexual - absent of a foreign partner and absent of sex - creation. They mirror what is already there. They are passive bottom feeders existing to inform reality of the truths of it.

Their first words are this: pink blood, blanket on a body on the shore, the springtime rising of delicate new plants in the harsh beach dunes, pears on the pear tree being picked, wide eyes in the socket of the one looking on, eagle's talons swooping into that socket to take the eye, a blurring paint-in-water swirling of coloured faces, laughter, the coloured petals of a flower in bloom.

My words to them... The clarity of the air of the beach despite the wicked wind whipped up, the clearest of the ocean waters, the drowning incense that is frankincense and myrrh, the ritual of deep vibratory Void-speak, a calm other party who watches their counterpart fall into panic...

None of this is right, though. These things are birds, and birds wish to fly. The birds wish to take the scum from the waves and knit them into nonsensical shawls and - not nonsensical! There is always a pattern. There is always an underlying logic. They speak in dreams, I'd better remember that we create eyes to see what we hadn't seen before.

I only worry about the mercury in the water. They say that's the best part, the part that makes them speak... I want to create medicine - they say they are mirrors. Their iridescent, scale-like spots are alluring. I need you to give a clarity that does not harm, but all harm is experiential. Clarity is experience. And ultimately... You were brought to this moment for a reason, little ones. We were brought back to the face that echoes what we were before the face was made. I am the Dreamer, this is the Dream.

And now I learn to trust them. They've been speaking truth this entire time. They feed on the bottom of the ocean, meaning they skirt the Sky and the border between the Dreamers and Reality, the Dream. Their translucent skin shines and speaks to Reality as a light show on the surface of the waters, they know logic, they know... Even without eating them, they return to their Mother what eyes return to the brain: insight, encompassing, gentle moonlight...

[geirskogull]

Moments of Calm - Part 1

+ Notes: 5.5 Spoilers Present in This Fic, Warrior of Light Danica Voss takes a moment to herself to perfect that strong silent type look by letting her brain get the better of her.

Archive Link

Warnings: This Chapter isn’t particularly Spicey, but overall this is NSFW

Word Count: 3k

 “Finally a moment to yourself then Warrior of Light?” Estiniens voice was a cool whisper through the warm Mor Dhona night air. Unceremoniously warm, if you were to ask her, but it's tepid purple glow was relaxing to her anxious mind even if the slowly forming sweat upon skin was not. It was sticky and gross but at least it reminded her she was material. That she was present and here and no longer upon any bloody field of battle where good men go to die. Where heros place their very lives on the line for a cause they may not fully understand the weight against.

   Estinien grimaced when his voice didn’t draw her eye. It normally did. Instead her lovely mismatched visage, gold and green like the sunlight through a forest canopy, gazed over towards the wreckage that was the Keeper of the Lake. Midgardsormr’s rest was temporary, as she had told him once when appraising him of what happened with Omega after Ala Mhigo’s liberation, but he couldn’t help but wonder if in moments like now when she sat silent and contemplative if she wished the Founder of the First Brood could be roused awake with a simple please and thank you.

   “Practicing the Strong Silent type act you have then I take it?” He chuckled, though it felt hollow in his chest. He hoped it brought her some sort of ease. Danica Voss, Ala Mhigan Native Scion, seemed to always relax when she heard him laugh, or in general display some sort of ease from a smile to a gentle nod to just having less bags under his eyes more days than normal. He prayed it worked even when the act was false.

   “Oh?” Her head snapped up finally, looking from the corpse of the primogenitor to the former Azure Dragoon. What greeted him did nothing to put ease in his heart, well... nothing had recently if he was being honest with himself. And as he liked to view himself a realist, he liked to believe he was honest with himself. Her eyes were red and the bags under them outpaced his own. Exhaustion sat in those once brilliant blinding eyes. And that smile that saw such good in him, even as he existed as nothing short of a monstrous creature of vengeance, was nothing but a faint dim twitch at the edge of her lips.

   “Sorry, lost in thought.” She chuckled and he knew it was as false as his own. The smile that grew on her face didn’t reach her eyes and only the rhythmic kicking of her feet against the edge of the cold stone roof paced with her true anxiety. Fast and surprised. He’d caught her off guard, and that was never a good thing.

   “Lost in thought and yes, a moment to myself. And before you ask, no you're not interrupting.” In fact he was a welcome interruption. Her mind had grown to lingering on her fears. On this new threat, Fandaniel and his odd Lunar primals. Once more the ever present threat of universal extinction was on the horizon and she’d only just returned.

   “I need to steal my rest where I can no? Otherwise there's no rest for the wicked.” And by the gods, she needed to rest. Every movement now was like a forced march, and her heart could only take so much. Her eyes dipped away from his own greys as a familiar escapist thought crossed her mind.  Fray had offered her Freedom from this once.

  “Or Righteous, as it seems more often the case for you these days Lady Voss.” He chimed, turning his back to her to place his spear near the door. Close enough that even on this roof he need just think and grab it without having to run, but far enough away that it was in no way capable of interrupting any gentle thoughts either might have. Her eyes widened a spell at his words, and he heard an honest snort of a giggle echo through the empty night air. The melody brought a true smile to his face in turn. She was still there, but tired.

   “Oh please, don’t call me that. I’m not some noble lady of Ishgard.” The faint flush on her cheeks in the moonlight was enough to tell him she didn’t really mind, but was just caught off guard.She turned away and motioned away with her hand, and he found his smile grew with his pride.

   “True, but you are  my lady  after all. Does it offend that much?” He asked, gently tilting his head as he strode closer. Gloved hand reaching out for her extended one, grasping it firmly, only to quickly intertwine his digits with her own. He let out a low, almost content hum as he approached, gently tugging at their connection to turn her form round.

   “Not if you sit next to me.” She answered, pulling upon his own hand, dragging him towards the edge. How long had it been since they last saw each other? Traveled by one anothers side? Her endless optimism and hope tempered by his realism. Azure Dragoons together.

   Too long, he decided, flipping her hand over and bringing the back of her hand to his lips. A simple yet dated action, unlike him in any other circumstance but uniquely correct here. Alone. At the top of the Rising Stones. Not a soul to see the way his eyes warmed with a deep fondness when they returned to her own. Nor the growing toothy smile on her face, and the light slowly entering her eyes as she felt at Home.

   “I suppose I can do that.” He chuckled, letting go of her hand only momentarily to take his assigned seat next to her. Legs hanging over the edge of the roof, eyes lingering over the horizon. No wonder she got so lost in thought up here, he was almost swept away in the current himself. It had to be something about the air. Intoxicating. Or perhaps it’d just been an unending series of long drawn out days.

   Words were not what saved him from the tide however. But the gentle press of her head upon his shoulder, and the wrap of her arm through his. Absently, he rested his hand atop hers on his bicep and looked down at her comfortable but still troubled eyes. Before he had a chance to speak however, she did.

   “You’re home.”  Her voice was but a distant whisper, almost lost on the night breeze. He blinked, taken aback, and was awaiting the inevitable ‘Where have you been?’ but -

   “I missed you.” It never came.

   And he found himself for a moment, unable to respond. A warmth blossoming in his chest that should have been familiar by now but always took him off guard. Of course she didn’t ask. She knew if it was important, he’d tell her. She... trusted so readily it scared him sometimes. Someone was bound to come around and see her endless optimism and dreams and kindness and open hands and hurt her for it. Wield the knife that would steal her from the world forever. Away from him.

   The thought of that turned his stomach into painful knots. It had almost already happened once. Upon the Dark, with that imposter in Zenos body and that wavering sickness over her. That broke her concentration, almost killed her. He prayed like then, he’d be lucky enough to stop any blade aiming for her back but -

   These were not words voiced to air. They were visible only in the churning grey storm clouds of his eyes and hers were closed to them for now. So his answer was in action and the gentle touch of his hand upon the back of her head. Cradling her form against him.

   “I missed you too.”

   His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, the words somehow not enough to convey exactly what he felt. His... lack of practice at this whole being a person not obsessed with vengeance thing was really starting to bite him in the ass and he hated it!

   But it was enough and his worry was for naught. Her anxious kicking legs against the stone stilled, and though he could hear it, he imagined her heart did as well. She kept eyes closed and just wrapped her arms around his torso, in a firm side hug that was a welcome gift.

   “Are you alright?” A question voiced later, as the moon grew higher in the night sky and the warmth turned to a faint chill. The silence hadn’t be bad. Neither of them particularly disliked silence. But it had felt empty which was odd for them. This wasn't the silence of being alone together.

   “No.” She answered so instantly that it almost startled him. The matter of fact tone, the way her eyes opened only a crack to make sure none else were around to hear her answer. It was concerning. Estinien had half the mind to just pick her up and wander inside to whatever room she called her own in the Stones and wrap her in enough blankets that she’d be warm and well... That wouldn’t have done anything if she was upset beyond probably give her another reason to be upset.

   “What’s wrong then?” He asked instead, taking the novel approach he’d been trying of late of using his damn words rather than sitting in a corner and hoping someone explained things to him eventually.

   “Where should I begin?” There was a bitterness to her tone that he’d seen only once before. After the events in Ul’dah. After the apparent assassination of the Sultana, blame placed on the Warrior of Light and the scions, and the death of many of her friends. He furrowed his brow, trying to think of how to answer.

   “The Start, I know you know I’m not the best with words so help me understand so maybe I can be better with them.” He exhaled the waterfall of words like a Coerthan avalanche and hoped she was fast enough to dodge the snowfall. Else he might have started her and he’d kick himself in the legs later.

   “Well then, let me say I’ve never been alright, Estinien. I’m just very good at faking bravery until it works. I’m terrified. I’ve always been terrified that one misstep on any of our parts now can just... break the world!” She unwound her arms from him and looked despondent at her palms,hidden by the omnipresent fingerless black gloves worn with time and constant usage till the fabric upon the upright hands were paper thin.  She balled them into fists, sharp nails piercing the fabric in already known locations. She’d done this sort of angry motion time and again.

   “You won’t though.” He tried to console, his words not false but too easy. Not conveying the fullness of what he thought. Something he knew the moment she pulled away. Eyes open with a scared rage that he’d seen once before as well. But he tried not to think how dangerously close he came to killing her that day on the Steps of Faith.

   “You don’t know that!” She exclaimed, slamming those balled fists onto her own lap in exasperation. Looking up at him with those wide terrified eyes he hated seeing. “No one does!” Perhaps it was in a way hopeful, this uncertainty in the future but it didn’t feel that way to her at this moment.

   “I know I don’t, and I know normally it would be you chastising me for jumping to the worst conclusion. But...” She exhaled and he found his words lacking. Stalling and falling off, like they were broken keys on a piano that ruined whatever song he was attempting. Her eyes fell from the terror and what replaced them was a sad, accepting smile. One he’d never seen before, and hoped he never would again.

   “You don’t have to say anything you know. It’s probably just good I got that off my chest.” She laughed, shaking her head at herself. It was good to air that but it didn’t deal with the problem she was well aware of. It just took the top level off the simmering pot and prevented it from overflowing once more.  

   “I want to, though. I want you to know that your fear is...” He pleaded, taking her hands in his one at a time, gently running a finger across her knuckles in some vain attempt to soothe her nerves that actually did a bit more than he thought it would. Her shoulders dropped and she looked away, down at the now empty streets of the adventuring town.

   “It’s good. It means you’re aware of what’s on the line. It’s terrible and eating at your heart obviously, but it means you’re not blind to what's at risk for your dreams of a better future." He leaned forward, lowering his voice not out of fear that someone might dare hear the former Azure Dragoon be soft - that sort of fear died the moment he made that recent mistake in Ishgard - but out of the intimacy it provided with his head now gently resting against her own. He could see the faint tears she blinked away time and again, see the exhaustion bleeding from her brows and hear the whisper she tried to hide.

   “Sometimes I wish I was...” One of those damn tears she had been trying so hard to restrain fell down her cheek in a silent sod. Leaving a clear pathway in the days dirt she had yet been unable to clear. Hells, she probably hadn't had a chance to clean herself up since the fights in Thanalan.

   “If you were, you'd be no better than Ilberd." He whispered in turn, allowing an edge into his hidden gentleness at that traitor's name. The pain he had caused Voss was inexorably present, still in her heart. The trust she had for him, the one who so willingly put up with her endless questions about  home without growing bored with the Half Elezen, the one who slew their people for brilliant dreams of freedom stained red with innocent blood. He shook his head, bad words really on his part given a second tear joined the first.

"I know but-" She shivered like the cold wind in the night was frigid icy blades digging into her skin, her soul even. She choked back a sob that she refused to let air. Proud. She was always proud. That much was true. “It... hurts.” She grasped at her chest balling up the ripped fabric of her shirt. She’d need to mend that later.

"Your heart is a wonderfully heavy burden to bear" He whispered, holding her in his arms firm, while one of his scarred hands gently wiped at the growing sorrow staining her tired face. It wounded him to see her so, and at this point he wasn’t sure if it was his own softness upon her or the connection they held as dragoons. “It’s so wonderful, and open. You see the good in everyone, and even when you can’t you manage to fish out the good they can’t see. It’s just so filled with love and hope for the world. So heavy with the weight of your dreams.” He continued an avalanche of words he hoped were correct. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her own.

"But, perhaps consider not bearing it alone." He released his hold on her the moment she burrowed her face into his chest. Her shaking less now, her breathing more steady but the tears falling much more readily. That worked. Thank Halone that worked. A fragile smile twitched at the edge of his lips as he brushed hair from her face. Her long tangled black waves not unlike a veil of mourning around her face. Of all those in the world, she deserved most to mourn.

Did this silence count as mourning? He wondered as he traced soothing circles upon her back as intermediary sobs escaped her, muffled by his wrinkled coat. He hoped it did. He very much hoped it did.

When she next spoke the moon was beginning it’s descent into day. How long had they sat there in silence? An eternity? Not long enough? He didn’t know. But when her hoarse voice did manage to reach his ears as she slowly looked up at him he listened.

“I think I’m going to go to bed now.” She chuckled faintly at her own words. What was she some young child demanding more time up only to realize the weight of sleep upon their backs? No. She was just tired. So tired and this had been such a long day.

“Let me walk you back then.” It wasn’t a request or a question. It was really a demand and he hoped it didn’t sound like one. Unwinding his arms from around her swung his legs back towards the safety of the hard ground of the roof before reaching out with his spear and returning it to its place on his back.

“It’s just my room Estinien, I’m not going to get lost.” She chuckled once more, joining him by standing and showing she didn’t actually mind the idea of once more threading her fingers with his and giving a tired squeeze.

“Just, please. I’ve missed you after all.” He reached for her other hand to do the same, stopping it from reaching the door that would lead into the top floor of the Rising Stones, and only a really short walk to her room. Top floor. So she could do just this. Hide and brood up high like all dragoons should.

She huffed loudly, attempting to cross her arms across her chest but they were captive and she didn’t dare free them. “Fine. Fine. I guess that’s alright, given I’ve missed you too.” She shook her head, the smiling growing by the second. Ah, little victories. Freeing but one of his hands he pushed open the wooden door and bowed. Waiting for her to walk through and drag him with her.

[recentanimenews]

Strike the Blood, Vol. 19

By Gakuto Mikumo and Manyako. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jeremiah Bourque.

Readers of the Strike the Blood light novels have always had a somewhat annoying problem, which is that we can never quite catch up to what’s been animated. For a while it looked like the novels would pass the anime, but then all these OAVs came out. It’s been especially noticeable with the last two books, both of which are expansions of original OAV storylines that came out years ago. You’d think, now that we’re only four volumes from the end, that we’d bee home free, but no: this volume and the next two came out in animated form last year. And, let’s face it, probably the only person still reading Strike the Blood who has NOT seen the anime is me. Most fans are likely simply reading the books to see what bits were cut out. I’m going to guess that the answer is not much, because as always this reads like a novelization more than a novel, and is almost entirely action.

Returning from the off-island events of the last book, Kojou and company find that the entire island is isolated – and appears to have been tu5rned into a survival game. This is being done by the Order of the End, a mysterious and powerful organization who can nearly murder a shaman princess, kidnap the Witch of the Void, and otherwise be the latest unstoppable opponent for Kojou to stop. They’re also led by The Blood, the very awkwardly named man (who also says his real name is Kenon here, though Kojou still annoyingly calls him The Blood) who is now pretending to be the Fourth Primogenitor. The obvious thing to do is to have Kojou go public, but he’s still trying to cling on to normal life till he can graduate. So he’ll do what he does best: muddle along, fight and find that it doesn’t work, rant and rave a lot, and win anyway. Though not yet, as this is more than one part long.

First of all, props to the author: Having Asagi save Yukina from certain death by turning the ocean into Strawberry Jell-O, then having to flee across it before it snaps back to reality, is one of the best things in the books to date, including her relief at it not being pudding, which would have been lethal. Other than that, there’s not really much to talk about here. It’s clearly only the start of the story (there’s no “this is OUR fight!” to be seen) and, well, it’s a lot of fights. Yume, the succubus from earlier books, is back protecting her school, and does cool things. The First Primogenitor, who we saw in the cliffhanger for the last book, is also around, along with his minion/girlfriend, and he’s fairly begign – so far. And the goofy humor is mostly kept to a minimum here – Kojou panicked when Kanon’s father sees them both in bathrobes in a love hotel; Sayaka getting summarily dumped out of La Folia’s airplane at 10,000 feet. It’s a decent action book.

But there’s no depth to it, which is why I always find these reviews hard. It has its highs and lows, but in the end Strike the Blood will always be what it is on the surface.

By: Sean Gaffney

[antedilfuvian]

I’m curious about your ocs :) do you wanna talk about their sires/why they were embraced? (Unless it’s a really spoiler-y plot point for something you are writing lol)

Of course!! To preface, all of this is just for my own personal enjoyment/not used for actual tabletop sessions. So, bear that in mind when delving into the high-stakes, grandiose nature of their stories. :)

Hadrian

Although his modern namesake derives from the Roman emperor, we have to go a bit farther back to capture the moment of Hadrian's embrace—somewhere around 500 BC in northern Greece. Hadrian's real-life inspiration is Epaminondas, a Theban general who, through ballsy maneuvering and brilliant tactics, freed many from Spartan rule and unified a large chunk of Greece. With the power struggle between Ventrue and Brujah present within the region at this time, such strategizing gained the attention of a number of watchful observers, all eager to secure such strategic advisory for themselves.

Ultimately, however, it was not a meticulously-planned course of action that found Hadrian in the world of the undead; rather, the impulsive decision of a powerful tourist. Victorious in his final battle yet mortally wounded, Hadrian awaited his final moments amongst the living, shrouded by a cloak of mourning comrades. Abruptly, the presence of a newcomer found those around him in a Domination-induced trance. Veddhartha appeared to him and, just as Hadrian was shy of his final breath, provided him life anew.

The lore on Veddhartha is somewhat unclear and conflicting at parts (based both on what the wiki says and what resources I've managed to find on him), but the the purposes of my story, Veddhartha was the one who diablerized Ventrue. This places Hadrian at 4th generation, but given the delicate nature of his sire's acquisition of power, he claims only 5th amongst the circles that know his true age and identity.

Hadrian, deemed incorruptible in life, detested the new life thrust upon him, surrounded by those that favored material gain and power-grabbing over honor-bound aspirations. While compliant with the traditions of his clan, his relationship with his sire was a cold and distant thing marked by bitterness. This mattered less and less with the passing ages and the gradual disappearance of Veddhartha, leaving Hadrian with only the hollow loneliness associated with being sired and left to one's own devices.

Though with time Hadrian succumbed to some of the selfish inclinations of his blood, he never sired his own childre. Mocked by his contemporaries for being childless both in life and death, Hadrian's real name grew more obscure with each century. This, however, only made him all the more desireable as a prospective agent for the Inconnu.

Piers

Piers' siring was unorthodox, to say the least. Born a Salubri revenant although largely unaware of the fact for the majority of his life, Piers found a certain ease in adapting to the norms of the undead when playing his own masquerade amongst them as a hunter in Cainite socialite's clothing. A strained and often-times-hostile relationship with his father born of circumstance unknown to Piers himself found him seeking independence at a young age and bearing the brunt of foolhardy decision making in the process.

It was only when meeting Hadrian at the age of 18 in 1998 that Piers found someone to serve as a mentor despite a (potentially mutually-beneficial) conflict on interest present within their individual goals. Unbeknownst to Piers, Hadrian knew the truth of his blood—not only its vague properties as being that of a revenant's, but also the gritty details of the Ashfield family's past. This information stemmed from his work with the Inconnu, who provided him clear orders not to interfere with the path Piers had been set on. Of course, like a moth to a flame Hadrian failed to obey, opting rather to assist the young hunter at arm's length over the course of 6 years until finally incapacitated by the Inconnu (something that I'd likely have to go into greater detail about in another post haha). Upon his rescue 9 years later and subsequent nursing-back-from-frenzy that transpired over the course of a year, he found Piers had discovered the nature of his blood.

It was not Hadrian who ultimately sired Piers, even if both secretely desired that to be the inevitable. Rather, it was Piers' pursuit of the man who had began the domino effect that led to his own creation, a 5th generation Salubri by the name of Klaudio and, more personally, his great-great-to-the-thirteenth grandfather. Piers, accompanied by a still-recuperating Hadrian, tracked down his grandfather to an estate occupied not only by the man himself, but every other firstborn Ashfield to precede Piers, sustained by the blood of their primogenitor. This would be the site of Piers' Blooding, one marked by the felling of his forebears (including his own father), until finally face-to-face with Klaudio.

Both Piers and Klaudio were mortally wounded in their fight, but then, as Piers' hands reached out to touch the face of his foe, a man over a century old yet so familiar, a heat ignited at his fingertips and set Klaudio's skull aflame. This final display was not a coup de gras, but rather a form of unconscious, thaumaturgical diablerie, consuming the elder's essence and taking it upon himself. Hadrian, separated but arriving just in time to observe Piers collapse to the floor, rushed forward to cradle the body of his lover and mourn what he thought to be a corpse. "You're not getting rid of me that easily," coughed Piers, looking up at Hadrian from behind a lidded gaze, exhausted yet cocky as ever, before succumbing to unconsciousness.

It would be 14 days before Piers awoke. In that time, Hadrian returned his body to their apartment and never left his side, doing what he could to mitigate the pain of the embrace. It was only when carrying his body to the pool of his bathhouse that Hadrian noticed a quickening of breath and a sudden struggle. Fearing Piers would reject his newfound blood, Hadrian's eyes searched for signs of change in the younger's body.

When Piers' eyes opened, it was with a third to accompany them. Piers had Awakened.

Thanks so much for the ask!! Tumblr never seems to let me add tags to asks, but hopefully I can slap a long post tag on this one. And also if there's any OCs you'd like to talk about yourself, I'd love to hear about them!