#not the warhammer yet but still

[beril66]

So I am reading banger character analysis of various necron characters from people like Ghost and Magistralucis so I wanted to put my two sents in about two things; the absolute HYPOCRISY of Orikan the Diviner and necrons as a whole;

Those who have read I&D no doubt remember the incredible Opera scene. It was probably the most profound part of the entire book; more than their hilarious feud , their team up aganist Orks and subsequent betrayals , their clashes of importance of culture and history and complete disregard of it even if its your own (put a pin on that we'll come back to this) , the heartwrenching flashes of memories or even the final kaiju battles at the end. These two old coots finally FINALLY have to breath methaphorically and just...talk.

Well mostly Orikan talks. Conveniently 'just' remembering it was Trazyn who dragged him into the biofurnaces (even if you think for a MOMENT it's while possible HIGHLY improbable.) So he engages Trazyn in the way it would impact him the most. Through cultural analysis. Both @ghostinthegallery and @magistralucis did analysis on these scenes better than I ever could and I want to a particular parts of Orikan's speech because even as I know practically nothing about 40k or necrons (I&D is my first 40k book) it always made me laugh out loud at the absolute GALL of it.

"Children of Important people, judging by their clothing, though Orikan had no interest in this world or its Byzantine ideas of hierarchy' and

"but we call each other low and bumbling because we are highly civilized"

I legit laughed myself silly here before the gut punch of their interaction continued because... the ridiculous amount of lack of self awareness and hypocrisy just absolutely stunned me.

This is the SAME species who before the biotransference killed each other for basically for sport.

The same species who calls those who are in the lower class as 'it' and has literal philosophical works that brings their SAPIENCE AND SENTIENCE into question (Aristotle would be PROUD)

The same species where a crown prince can get away with shooting 50 commoner soldier in the head as a 'LESSON IN RULING' .

Same species STILL in some cases look down on Imotekh the fucking Stormlord just because he is apparently a 'sandborne'.

Same species who turned their entire lives and culture into a death cult.

The same species who seem to ironically instead of uniting and searching for a cure of their condition just continue to paint galaxy in red with their own and other species blood.

The same race after Old Ones rejected them decided to not just fought aganist them but TRIED TO DESTROY EVERY OTHER PEOPLE THEY COME ACROSS until Old Ones kicked their asses enough.

Tangent here; I mostly agree Old Ones refusing to at least cure them of their cancers is a massive dick move but a counter argument can be made; if you saw a species like necrontyr spread in the galaxy conquering everything they see (and lets be honest here.. if they had vassal species they most likely treat them worse than any Sand born) and the only thing keeping them in check is their sickness , internal political bullshit and equevalant species...would you help them?

And after ALL OF THAT you just...turn each on other and start to REALLY go at it to the point you get the attention of hungry melicious star parasites.

After completely ignoring the increasingly desperate warnings of your almost always correct court astromancer and paint him as insane and a charlatan;

THEN these things, using higher echelon's desperation for eternal life fool you into turning your entire race into soulless terminators because suprise!! During your transformation of course the 'gods' duped you and not only they stuck you into sub-optimal metal coffins , not only (some lore bits implies nobility %100 aware and content) %95 precent of your population is lobotomized , not only you are made to forget %98 of your entire culture even forget where your homeworld is , not only you sacrificed every single class of your young children and will NEVER have future generations EVER, but the cherry on top of this shit cake is your souls are gobbled by said star parasites and also ALL of you, SK included turned into their slaves.

So you and your new masters start a 5 million years worth of war so horrific you give chaos such a power boost , killed about %80 of the galaxy , forced psykic frogs into tearing the first anus in reality and drove the possibly only species keeping the Chaos Gods in check into (possible) extinction. You fucked the afterlife for everyone else until the heat death of the universe in Milky Way.

After that little debacle you turn on your gods , fought them, shatter them (and 'kill' one that in some shape harmed the reality) then after seeing the absolute devestation your gods and kind inflicted go to 60 millions of years of sleep which lets be honest helped more than hurt as mental problems were cropping up BEFORE the end of the war (TDK)

Now you are waking up and did you learn ANYTHING from all of the 5 million worth of life experience?

They learned jackshit thats what happened. Every single sapient necron even the likes of Trazyn, even Zhandrekh are still making the SAME mistakes and inflicts same cruelties they kind always had done.

Trazyn is at the end of the day is a thief and a kidnapper. I&D happened BECAUSE he was so stubborn to steal that gem he wounded the World Spirit and caused the Deciever shard to gain enough power by sending some Aeldari souls his way before Slaanesh can take them. My guy killed an ENTIRE WORLD for a joke.

We all know the reason he is so obsessed with his work is to keep himself sane and have a purpose but just imagine the GOOD he can do. He library rivals the actual BLACK LIBRARY in universe. He tried to help at Cadia and it was amazing to see but at the end of the day even Trazyn didn't seem to grasp that the galaxy is dying in front of him and he can CHANGE that. Or unwilling. This is the worst attributes of the necrons; not caring when they actually really SHOULD.

Zhandrekh is as much as the setting allows is a good man. He could be considered kind even in Flesh Times. He is an honourable man. He is also a terrifyingly competent warlord serving Imotekh whose damage seems to be his insaitable desire to conquer and CONTROL (as much as we know GW for what? 8 years didn't characterized him other than "really clever , great general , obsession with proving his worth and control by dueling with strong opponents"). I think people forget about that about him. He didn't lost a SINGLE campaign aganist Imperium. My senile old sweet man is TERRIFYING.Not much more to say about him honestly he is a good dude in a horrific setting with dementia and married to his bodyguard.

Now lets come to Orikan. Orikan the Diviner is %100 has the right to be a resentful bastard to his own people. He tried so hard to stop the catasthrophy of biotransference. Not only he didn't succeed but they THROW HIM AGANIST HIS WILL into the fires.

What I really like about him however is while he is a venomous , back stabbing little bastard who takes a little too much pleasure of his people' suffering he has these...flashes that shows there is SOMETHING kinder underneath deep deep DEEP down. He didn't want to destroy Serenade. Interestinf thing about him is he only refers to humans as an "it" ONCE. And thats a corpse something even we do. These are very small but it shows Orikan ISN'T just a complete and utter douchbag XD

That being said Orikan abject denial of basically anything positive about anything or anyone necron or not shows how small minded he can be. His destruction of necrontyr artifacts, his dismissal of human anything without giving it a try (like apperantly SK prepared shadow puppet theater for palace kids? How is that a drivel Orikan???) Etc. He simultaneously despises everything necrontyr/necron that ISN'T his or Vishani's provess in their fields yet claims total superiority in everything Necrons do as he insults them. He is the single most hypocritical character bar chaos SM.

Don't get me wrong its a great character work and shows us how flimsy necron identity even is. Because minus general archetypes of their dynasties they have...none. Soulless God Killers isn't an identity. It's the curse of their entire species however metal (pun intended) it is to turn your treacherous gods into cattle. At the end of the day however advanced tech they possess or claims to have high manners (if they are sentient enough) or 'elegance' they are as barren as a civilization can get in all account bar tech.

And the fact that they can call themselves 'Civilized' making me giggle for the sheer absurdity of it BECAUSE they equate technological advancement as 'Cultured amd civilized'.

Necrons while I LOVE THEM and want them to have a happy ending (I want that for all species honetly everyone is horrible in 40k its okay :D) are the indisputed the WORST people in this shithole of a galaxy.

Imperium in many ways are lightyears ahead of us technologically would we call them civilized? Aeldari despite all their tech and arts were creating blood orgies on bodies of sacrificed children and I didn't met many people who would consider even the today's Crafworld Aeldari civilized.

Necrons are the same as these two. There is beside technology and cultural ticks no difference between them. Orikan calls the class system of Serenade 'Byzantine ideas' while he himself is subjected to the EXACT SAME THING in Mendragora court.

So if we rib on the Imperium and Aeldar...why shouldn't we on necrons?

All the races of the Milky Way are sides of a multi-faced coin (except Tyranids obviously). Bloodthirsty , cruel savages with certain exceptions in characters because they are marginally less shitty than the rest (Trazyn , Zhandrekh , Oltyx , Yenekh , Eldrad , Vulcan , Farsight , Shadowsun , Jaghatai Khan etc.) Who wants the same thing.

Necrons are just the most delusional of them all and its so tragic it loops back around to being funny. All races have fell from grace in Warhammer. The Necrontyr might be the only race started with very little redeeming qualities though. And the have not changed a SINGLE BIT in 65 fucking MILLION YEARS besides Oltyx (who because the Flayer King. A literal flesh tearing and wearing monster) . A single character. This is beyond horrific when you think about it.

Ironically in 40k DAOT humans might have been the most civilized race ever existed. They had peace treaties with ORKS. Interex have not eradicated Mega-arachnids just banished them to a world where they can live and let live. Diasporex just wanted to be left alone. Humanity even Aledari used to have compassion. Necrontyr and necron minus few never had that as a SOCIETY. Not to their own NOT to others. (I am not humans fuck yeah! In the slightest but...history speaks for itself)

And with their souls gone it seems something needs to shake them up so badly to start actual REFLECTION of eho they have been/who they are. Because with the way the are going...their minds will give long before their bodies do.

Sooo...this is my 'analysis' of the hypocrisy of Orikan and Necrons as a whole considering them so above all despite being in the same mudpit wirh other races. Would love to hear your opinions do you agree? Disagree?

#necrons #warhammer 40k #orikan the diviner #trazyn the infinite #necrons are objectively the most pitiable race in 40k #they feared death so so much yet even after become what they are they are still terrified #take reanimation protocols from them and you can make them to practically ANTHING #their society was a fucking nightmare as necrontyr #at least the commoners have no mind to suffer anymore #'Allegedly' because certain lore bits implies they ARE basically suffering from. 'locked in syndrome #thats a face I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy #like they legit basically killed EVERY SINGLE CHILD #when you think about it #Oltyx was about 17-18 . I think really young ones like 11-12 regardless of class turned into a warrior #I love them but boy do they pathetic as a species #Sad depressed skeletons needs a collective reality check #i love them anyway

[trans-der-vampire]

Am I gravely overestimating my abilities with this one? Absolutely, 100%, no question.

But consider: I really love Magnus.

#warhammer 40k #mini painting #wh40k #magnus the red #more like magnus the not quite red yet #this is gonna be an adventure #a journey #an odyssey #taking the challenge for my favorite Space Wizard #here's to hoping his head and shoulder skull are still attached tomorrow morning #because they were not cooperating with me

[magistralucis]

Still can't get over Djoseras's character arc. Heroically tragic, morally invalidated - structurally genius, since we rediscover him at the same speed Oltyx does, layer by layer as he peels his deceptions away. There is something deeply unhinged about the way Djoseras saw life while he himself was alive, in a way the standard necron contempt towards organics can't match.

He's merciless. He's loving. He's a rival, he's a mentor, he's untrustworthy. He's the best brother Oltyx could have had. He's a mirror for princes. Most of what he says is wrong, because he does not know better, or a lie, because his princehood is an unwilling burden and has become a fundamental dishonesty. He's a terrible DJ. His best friend was his enemy. Spiritually he has joined his brother in exile, setting himself apart in the landscape closest to Sedh their crownworld has to offer. His malice is almost entirely in Oltyx's imagination. He wasn't thinking about how wrong he was about everything 'since [he and Oltyx] spoke in the desert'. He's actually been thinking about it since Oltyx got exiled, spending hundreds of years carving apologies upon his own soldiers. They're even less capable of protesting whatever he brings upon them than they would have as necrontyr. They're not the people he destroyed, and not the people who can grant him forgiveness. If they could throw aside their hierachies and see one another person-to-person, they wouldn't owe him a damn thing, and he knows that and it kills him which is just as well because Oltyx killed him too.

His best-lived self belonged entirely to Oltyx. And Oltyx forgot about him, twisted the memories into something he was not, and he locked Djoseras away where neither he nor his elder brother could reach until it was too late. (Though the moral teachings kept leaking out, like pus from a wound.) Djoseras was already dead from the moment we saw him in the desert. In a way, he too is a 'twice-dead king', except he never wished to be a king and so he just keeps dying and dying until there's nothing more of him left to die. But they're necrons. They're all dead. They don't change, they never come back, only Oltyx can come back and not in a form commonly acknowledged as necron. Djoseras would've had a hard time without being as inflexible as he was, but that was the path he chose and broke like iron he did. There are not enough tears in the world

#warhammer 40k #the twice dead king #oltyx #djoseras #necrons #essay #i find the moral dimensions of djoseras really interesting #it becomes increasingly evident through ruin that he's a character who belongs in a different genre of book altogether #he's a homeric hero in a homeric inspired world. like hektor breaker of horses. djoseras breaker of immortals. #you know that scene where hektor's son cries in fear at seeing his battle-helmet? that's djoseras and oltyx in the dril-yard #but alas the twice dead king is not a homeric epic but rather a deconstruction and djoseras's morals eventually have little place in it #yet i like that his nobility is never diminished. i like that he is still a moral core for oltyx to the very end and oltyx's final strength #and i even like that he is still high-minded and snobbish to the very end because it sells me to his iron will. changed but not enough. #but still recognizably djoseras. there are not many among necrons who have the privilege of dying as themselves after all

[clovisbrayai]

calling cult of the lamb a game glorifying cults is kinda silly. its a game where you murder people routinely, convert people by force, practice polygamy, throw people into jail for disagreeing with you, brainwash people with drugs, and use magic to manipulate people en masse. it has heavy christian iconography (crosses, bishops, lambs, demon summoning, etc) and every time you do something awful your followers look sick or distressed. you kill enemies of your religion by the dozens in a dungeon run literally referred to as a *crusade*. im not sure how you could make it more clear that you're playing a villain amongst villains.

#its basically like warhammer or gta or any of those sorts of games. no matter how you play you're going to be playing an awful fuck #even if the lambs actions are very slightly justified in context youre still an awful fuck #dont spoil me tho im not done with it yet #sorry for the rant btw i just saw a profoundly stupid ask #also: cute tho they may be if u read the lamb as a good guy you're also a moron. a major thematic point of the game is that cults are evil #cotl #cotl spoilers

[ariszed]

Some Tacitus things~ I finally design his armor, helmet is still a wip, plus an extra doodle of him

#i still need to finish the others' designs yet i continue to draw Tacitus #q. #Warlord Tacitus #the Warband #zedart #warhammer 40k #wh40k #warhammer 40k ocs

[innercircleminiatures]

I suspect this tank is a cursed object. I keep painting and painting and it never seems to get any closer to completion

#death korps of krieg #warhammer 40k #warhammer #imperial guard #wip #I’ve been home from London over a year and still haven’t finished the minis I bought there #there’s a full artillery battery besides this tank yet in the grey #forge world

[2lim3rz]

Hope I don't sound dumb for asking but whats an asa complex? Google only gives me results for paintball

OH LMAO I'M SORRY FOR LAUGHING IM JUST-

I LOVE HOW PAINTBALL COMES UP

But nononononono! I just made that up on the spot, anon!! But I do explain some of what it is in my Trazyn post!

Essentially, just a Big Bad Evil Dude With them muscle tits (or metal in this case) . If you're curious on who Asa Emory is, I recommend watching the movies the Collector and the Collection (though warning if you're like me; these movies are BRUTAL with their torture) or if you just want to bask in the delicious awesome opinions of those and others, I also recommend @slasherholic 's posts on Asa (also Michael Myers, please read all the michael myers posts I froth and foam at the mouth over them still)

But yeah! That's some of the Asa Complex of which I know me and several others have riparooni

My question to everyone now is... would Horus Lupercal or Konrad count into the Asa Complex?

#2lim3rz chats to anonymous #asa emory #trazyn the infinite #warhammer 40k #the collector #also YES I DID throw up in my mouth a little bit MULTIPLE times during that movie.. and yet I still love it #is this the masochist talking?? likely.

[vexwerewolf]

why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys

I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.

If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:

I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:

If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?

It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?

The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.

A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.

So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?

Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.

Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.

Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.

If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.

Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #gubat banwa #philosophy #ethics #ttrpg

[tf-lover]

Masquerade Madness

A little fun organised by @bodyswapmischief, and one of the only celebrity tf's I'll probably ever write! Enjoy the masquerade!

~~~

The idea of a masked ball was, at least in theory, the type of event Henry should enjoy. He was a famous actor, used to being in the public eye and in front of a camera. Only, he was dreading it. His agent had signed him up to attend, and as much as he could put on the charismatic face for the press, half the time he would rather be at home than at another event. Reading, video games and even stuff like Warhammer, the star had always been a not so secret nerd. He always had eyes on him though no matter where he was or who he was with. As much as he loved his craft, it was times like this he felt like a break for a night.

That's where Kade came in. He often acted as security for Henry, so they knew each other well. For the last several years at various events and on the occasional filming set he'd been Henry's personal bodyguard; the two had become fast friends. Kade was the stereotype of the rough bodyguard too; bearded and tattooed with closely shaved hair, one look told you almost everything you needed to know.

“What I wouldn't do for a night off you know?” Henry said once he emerged from the bathroom after a shower. “Feels like I never get any time to myself anymore.”

Kade, who would be driving Henry to the event and accompanying him inside, nodded in agreement. “I know man, I get you. It's a hard job being loved and thirsted over by so many people.” There was a hint of teasing in Kade’s tone, one only he could get away with. 

Henry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the slight smirk on his lips. “Yeah yeah, I know. I'm thankful for everything I have, don't get me wrong. I just… I don't know.”

“Well, what if I said Henry Cavill can still show up at this event and you can take a bit of a break for the night?” Kade had a hint of mischief in his eyes when Henry turned to face him. “You don't get it, I know dude. New tech in the industry.”

“Out with it Kade, what on earth are you going on about?” Henry folded his arms and frowned, more confused than anything else. 

Kade pulled a small circular device out of one of his pockets and held it up. It was no bigger than his palm and had what looked like a scanner of some sort on either side. Other than that though it was sleek high-tech, giving away no extra information on what its purpose was. 

“Military tech they ended up not using and selling off. Was meant for covert undercover operations so I'm told. The two of us use this to switch bodies, then I go to the party as you and you can just chill at my side. How's that sound?”

Henry… didn't know what to make of that. It was absurd, it had to be. It was like the plot of one of the movies he'd find himself in, not real life. Yet, there was something in Kade’s eyes that said he wasn’t bullshitting. Henry knew Kade well enough to know when he was joking around, and this wasn’t even close to one of those times. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in man, but think about it.” Kade said as the other man spent a moment processing the information. “You don't have to ‘turn on’ that public persona people expect and can just vibe as me. You know security at these things is airtight even without some of the personal guards like me there, you'll have it easy.”

Henry was silent another moment before responding. “You know what? Alright, let's try it.” He gave Kade a small smile before holding a hand out. “How does this work then? Do we just-”

Kade stepped closer and smacked the device he was holding down into Henry's outstretched palm before the celebrity could finish his sentence. A jolt passed through both as their hands came into contact with the plastic surface, now fully activated with two participants. In less time than it took either to blink, Henry and Kade found the world around them suddenly shifted. Where Henry had been standing in a bathrobe and mentally preparing himself for another evening at another public event, now he found himself looking back at that very same face. The one he was used to seeing in the mirror now stood opposite him with an uncharacteristic smirk. 

“Having fun there Kade?” Henry said when he saw his own smirking face. The voice that came from his mouth being a different one was definitely odd, but seeing himself was moreso.

Kade in Henry’s body laughed. “I was going to say the same to you Kade, since I’m fairly sure I’m the world famous Mr Henry Cavill right now.” Kade turned back to the bathroom and went to the mirror, running his hands over his new face. He knew this one well of course from films and working with Henry, but he never believed he’d actually get a chance to see it looking back at him. “Man, every time I’ve done this and it’s still fucking wild.” He said to himself.

Henry had followed his own body to the bathroom and watched as his bodyguard inspected Henry’s own handsome features. The strong, stubbled jaw, piercing eyes and just the faintest hint of chest hair that poked out of the robe he’d been wearing after the shower. Like anyone, Henry could really understand why Kade was so fascinated with being one of the hottest actors on the planet.

“Oh, you probably haven’t noticed yet dude, have you?” Kade stepped back from the mirror and turned to face himself. “Something different you haven’t spotted, should have mentioned it before really but I didn’t want you to freak out about it.”

Henry frowned. He didn’t know what Kade was going on about, and he was on the verge of saying as much when Kade did something he didn’t expect. He pulled off the bathrobe and dropped it to the floor, letting Henry get a good look at his ripped, naked body in all its glory. His mouth went dry. Objectively he knew he was attractive, he always had since being in such a public position, but now he could really feel it. Kade’s familiar smirk was plastered now over Henry’s features as the man flexed and gave his chest a squeeze, all with a look in his eyes that said he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“See, one thing they discovered is sexuality and attraction is mostly tied to your body.” Kade started to explain as he kept teasing and running his hands down over Henry’s hairy chest and stomach. “So right now you’re as gay as I usually am. Once you’ve been doing this long enough you learn to be able to ignore the physical sexuality, but for a newbie like you…” Kade’s eyes flicked down to the obviously hard bulge between Henry’s legs. “Sorry to say you’ll have to be alright relaxing as a gay dude today.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine…” Henry mumbled whilst he couldn’t take his eyes off himself. “Guess I can see what everyone means for myself now. Are you always this attracted to me?”

Kade nodded. “Yeah, I mean who isn’t? But just like you don’t go getting hard over every attractive girl you see, it’s just the same.” He shrugged. “You learn to control yourself. Working with you is just business, not like I’m going to go over any boundaries that would be inappropriate.”

The mention of inappropriate boundaries sent other thoughts running through Henry’s mind. Thoughts of things he could do with men he’d never been interested in before, thoughts of things he could do with his own body. His cheeks flushed a brilliant pink for a moment before he shook his head; he had to get himself back under control. He was usually calm and collected, even if he was in Kade’s body and gay that didn’t give him an excuse to be ogling another man. Even if was technically his body he was getting an eyeful off and Kade was freely showing it off, it still didn’t feel appropriate. 

“You should umm, get dressed Henry. You’ve got a party to get to, right?” Henry said in an attempt to deflect from the new stuff he was feeling. They’d made this swap for a reason, so he could have a night off and still make an appearance, so the sooner they got on with that the better. “Suit is in the bedroom.”

Kade let out a short laugh and a nod. “You’re right of course Kade. I’ll get myself dressed and ready to go, then you can drive me to the event okay?” Kade in Henry’s body turned and walked off in the direction he knew the actor’s bedroom was, all the while giving Henry a good long look at his muscular ass cheeks and how they flexed as he moved away.

~~~

It wasn’t long until the pair were ready and on their way to the party.

Kade had got all dressed up in Henry’s suit for the evening, including a custom made black mask by some designer he couldn’t remember the name of. He pulled the whole thing off well. Henry knew he would, after all he’d tried the whole outfit on days ago to make sure it all fit properly, but he hadn’t expected to be the one on this side of things. To be the one sat in the driver's seat of the car when he’d taken them both to the event.

Or to be the one trying not to look at how fucking hot hs own body looked in the suit his agent had picked out with the designers. Being gay because of the swap left him feeling all sorts of things, but chief among them was an undeniable attraction to himself. It was fucked up he knew that, but the drive over followed by silently following behind up the red carpet only hammered that nail down into the metaphorical coffin. Henry thought he was hot as fuck, just like many other gay fans had made clear, now he was almost one of them.

Kade didn’t make it any easier either. He showed just how good at his job he was as he smiled to the cameras, spoke to the occasional reporter and all round pulled off an incredibly convincing Henry Cavill. There were small things that only Henry could notice being off, but to anyone else they’d have no reason to believe he wasn’t himself as the pair made their way inside. And Henry really was getting a taste of the flip side of all this; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked down a red carpet and been as completely and utterly ignored as he was in Kade’s body. It was like he wasn’t even there. People moved around him like nothing, cameras flashed over his shoulders to capture anyone and everyone that wasn’t him; he was invisible. 

The whole evening was more of the same for Henry. Or, for Kade as he made sure to introduce himself to a handful of the other security guards dotted around for other celebrities. It was strange at first, but the more he stood around chatting the more he felt like it was refreshing not to be recognised or idolised. He didn't have to “switch on” into his public facing actor mode like he'd been talking to Kade about earlier in the day, he could be his comfortable, relaxed self. All the while he watched from a distance as the real Kade in Henry's body danced and chatted and ate. All the things he should be doing but often found to be the exhausting part of being an actor. 

“So, how are you finding things Kade? No issues with security?” The real Kade said later on in the evening when they got a spare moment together. Just a high profile celeb checking in with his security, that was all it looked like. 

Henry nodded. “Yes Mr Cavill, all good on my end. I hope you’re having a pleasant evening?” It wasn’t hard to play the role of security guard for Henry, he was an actor after all. 

“Yes yes, of course. All good fun events like these are, as you well know. And this suit is nice, makes me look good doesn’t it?” Something about the way Kade spoke with Henry’s voice was different to before. Lower, more heated. Maybe it was just to be heard over the crowd of people, but it didn’t feel like that quite. It felt like… more. “I’ve seen your eyes on me this evening Kade, and I want you to know I understand. Being so close can’t be easy on a night like tonight for you, if you catch my drift. One night, get it out of your system, if you think that would help?”

Henry couldn’t believe his ears. Kade, his long-term, always professional bodyguard, was suggesting something so… so sordid. This was a side of Kade he didn’t show for the sake of keeping to the job, but now something was crackling between them. Henry could feel it, a palpable tension in the air that he realised had probably been there since they first swapped earlier. 

“You, You’re still gay, aren’t you.” Henry stated, since he already knew the answer. “You’ve done this enough that even in my body you’re still attracted to men… like I am right now as you.”

“That’s right Kade. As of this moment Henry Cavill is currently as gay as it gets, whether we’re talking about his body or his mind.” Kade said in that same low voice that Henry could now hear was dripping with arousal. Not one he ever imagined he’d be on this side of, or getting this turned on by either. “I get this is crossing a boundary between us, but I also get the sense that’s a boundary you’d rather like to cross right now, isn’t it?”

All Henry could do was silently nod his agreement. Since the swap earlier that evening he hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind. If he was a stronger person maybe he could have held back and kept things professional, but then wasn’t the whole reason he had agreed to this swap in the first place because he was tired of always having to put on the professional face? Always serving the public and never himself; maybe it was time that changed. 

“Let’s get out of here Henry, I think for your safety you should let me take you home, there’s been a few suspicious characters at this party looking at you a little too closely for my liking.” Henry slipped himself back into the bodyguard role and smirked at Kade as he spoke; if this was his once chance to really experience this before it was over he wasn’t going to waste it. 

~~~

An hour later, Henry was on his back getting his ass absolutely destroyed by his own cock. 

“Yes, fuck me Henry!! Nnnghhh… oh fucking hell bro I never thought a celebrity could fuck so good!” Henry held onto Kade’s shoulders and let his moans freely fill the room, though right now it was hotter to imagine himself as Kade. To imagine for a moment that he wasn’t Henry Cavill having swapped bodies, he was this bodyguard finally getting fucked by the star he’d been protecting. 

Kade, or Henry as he too found it hot to think of himself as, was much in the same boat. “Yeah Kade? Can’t believe I haven’t been fucking men until now, I’ve been missing out!” The current Henry shouted as he fucked down into the hole around his cock. He’d swapped with many celebrities in the past, but never had it landed him in an outcome as hot as this one. He was Henry fucking Cavill! The one and only, and with the former Henry getting so into addressing Kade by the name that matched his body it was easy to get lost in that fantasy. 

The two kept going in that same rhythm long into the evening. Henry had fully embraced being Kade the bad boy bodyguard, so much so that when the former Kade above him moaned that name in his ear it didn’t feel at all wrong. It felt right. Liberating even. He wasn’t anyone in the public eye, he was someone completely invisible to them. And had one of the hottest celebrities on the planet cumming in his ass all night like an absolute beast. The new Henry had skills he never thought possible, the new Henry above him could do all the public stuff and fuck like the king Hollywood saw him as. It was giving him ideas already for their future…

~~~

2 years later…

Henry and Kade hadn’t looked back since that first swap. 

The evening they spent together riding and sucking and fucking was one of the hottest either man had experienced. Enough so that the real Henry asked if Kade could make his body gay when they swapped back. He could, it turned out, leave his lingering sexuality in Henry’s body and corrupt it to be gay instead of straight. 

Not that Henry spent a whole lot of time in his own body as it was anymore. 

For filming and such he still stayed as himself, but that was about it. He still loved to act more than anything and didn’t want to give that up. But besides when he was on a job, Henry spent all his time as Kade instead. The name Henry had even started to feel slightly odd to him now he spent almost all his time as Kade the tattooed stud. It was far more relaxing than being his old self, and the pair made enough money to support them both just using Henry. The old Henry would do the acting, then the new permanent Henry would take over and spend the rest of the time doing all the publicity and stuff. Kade, as the former star now thought of himself, was more than happy to let his boyfriend take the spotlight when he was overall better at it than Kade had ever been. 

The new and improved Henry had even gone to the lengths of coming out of the closet and introducing the world to his boyfriend Kade. If only they all knew the reality of the situation, but that was only for them. Henry Cavill, lost lusted after by gay men the world over, was now officially part of the gay community too, and it had sent fans into a frenzy. 

Kade had got used to thinking of himself as a gay man now though. It was why he’d asked his boyfriend to make sure his old body was still gay when he used it for filming. Going back to being his old straight Henry Cavill self when he was filming had weirded him out for all of 48 hours before letting it get fixed up so he was gay regardless of which body he was in. 

He loved his new easier life away from all the rapid publicity, and loved his soon to be husband even more for giving him this life accidentally. One last public affair to give the new Henry Cavill the proposal he deserved, then he would really be done with the exhausting side of his old life.

#MarchMasquerade #male transformation #body swap #my writing #straight to gay

[shiyorin]

Do Dreadnoughts dream of taking a bath?

#Inspired by PowerWash x Warhammer 40K and Roco.

#I love Dreadnought.

"Do Dreadnoughts dream?"

That is a question with no certain answer. On one hand, a Dreadnought is more machine than man, neural implants fuse mind to machine in ways bizarre to comprehend. Their armored carapace shelters only remnants of flesh, sustained through bionic might alone. By all rights, their cerebral cortex should have decayed long ago.

By such logic, one could argue conscious thought ends where flesh yields to steel. Sleep and its dreamscapes are biological realities, are they not? With only trace humanity remaining, why expect mental functions of slumber? But integrated into their armored shells are enough enhanced organs and neural implants to sustain bioniorganic functions far beyond mere biological viability. Isn't the nature of dream itself stems from biological instincts overwritten.

The pain was a dull ache, easily ignored after centuries entombed. But a new irritation assailed him now, crawling itches across flesh long denied sensation. Confusion, this body felt change, though it had lain inert as worlds turned. Deeper still came the oppression, lungs seizing as if drowning once more in bloody. 

What trickery was this? Diagnostics reported stasis, all systems firing true. Yet the discomforts grew, phlegmy coughs racking the half-machine beast. Panic swelled, animal instincts long dormant rising within the eternal tomb. Then light, piercing the darkness behind closing lids. Sweet air rushed into ruined lungs, this labor easing at last. 

His eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar realm. No armored bulk rose before him but limbs scoured by shrapnel and burned by virus-bombs. His original form, given once more against all reason, a gift or curse, he knew not. Unfettered he stood, wounds healed to bare scars across taut flesh. This was a dream, or something. 

An uncertainty gripped him. What madness was this? To be returned to old flesh but feel no urge to battle, no call to crusade? A different impulse arose, foreign but ingrained, cleansing ritual performed eons past in youth. He walked uncertain, waters calling him to rites unseen by any in aeons untold. 

Ribs still bore flecks of ceramite and plasteel patched within living shell. He paused before the waters, studying form that had known only warfare. Scars told their own tales, each etched upon memories kept alive through aeons in stasis. With care he entered in that, waters lapping old wounds as if in benediction. 

There he lingered, letting cares and pains wash freely away. Muscles long locked in adamantium relaxed, tension fleeing in steam rising. For the first time in memory untold, no demands of duty or flesh assailed him. A feeling swelled within him, emotion locked beyond reach of mortal sensation. Peace, serenity swept over ancient minds as waters sloughed away cares of ages...

Pain pulsed through his battered form as consciousness returned. The fleeting peace of dreams melted away, centuries of enforced half-life onboard the Dreadnought crashing back upon ancient shoulders. Systems booted sluggishly, sensors recalibrating after solaris of monotony disturbed. 

A hum escaped grille as servos whirred back to their duties securing crumpled flesh deeper than mortal sight could pierce. Outside clangs and grinding announced the diligent ministrations of tech-priests ensuring their perpetual charge clung yet to shadow of function. One voice carried clearly through armored carapace:

"Vitals stabilize in sector C-12 Magos. Neural links firing within tolerances." The Tech-priest's voice rang through microphones.

"Understood. Continue maintenance protocols and monitor for anomalies. This relic has served faithfully many centuries. Pray for the Omnissiah." The Magos's bionics buzzed in compliance. They ensured history marched on, whatever hulls preserved that march.

With effort, aged vox-grille creaked open. "Brother, I was dreaming." Static laced speech imparted by cobbled augmetics mere palliates for ravaged throat too ruined for basic sounds. The Techmarine's etheric sensors detected words nonetheless.

A static pause preceded Techmarine's reply. "Dreaming? Impossible, your neural engrams show only baseline activity."

Mirthless chuckle issued from loudspeakers. "Impossible, yes, But I dream... I'm taking a bath." 

Silence answered as Techmarine puzzled over the incomprehensible scene. "The priests scrub your plating clean as monthly rite. Perhaps some synapse misfired."

Silence reigned for moments uncounted as ritual continued outside. Then, a final whisper from within. "Indeed. A... nice dream." 

With that, consciousness fell back into lowest-level rest as painkillers suffused systems. The Techmarine watched monitors return to quiescent patterns, then signaled to close the Dreadnought once more. Its machine spirit's notions were beyond his. The armored tomb closed, and darkness reigned once more.

#shiyorin's writer #warhammer 40k #dreadnought

[carionto]

It's smaller on the Inside

I find myself going down the Warhammer 40'000 route of scale for this verse I'm apparently building. It's silly, and I like it that way. I don't want to give myself a ceiling for anything I might throw in here :p Continuation of this

__________________________________________

From the outside, the Human ships are astronomically massive. Most, we guessed, doubled as population centers, something akin to a floating colony fleet. With their planet as hostile as they come, we had no doubt most of Humanity had moved into orbit.

"Hmm? Oh, no. The colony ships aren't ready yet. They'll be bigger than even the Dreadnoughts. I'd say the entire Space Force has around 300'000 active members. The Space Teamsters Union has about 8'000 members, and us science ships house just under 2'500 employees. There's maybe a few thousand unlicensed folk out and about, no doubt that number will skyrocket once we get some trade routes going with you guys, or, err... you know. Sorry, just a common expression."

Captain Knoslark explained. This didn't make sense. The Coalition delegates were informed Earth was home to 12,3 billion Humans. By reasonable estimates, their current fleet should easily be able to accommodate at least half that.

Okay, fine. The revelation their reactors were stupidly massive would drop that to around 3,8 billion, but still! What were they using all this room for?

Perplexed, the Captain itemized:

"Well for one, armor plating accounts for between 20 and 45 percent of the total mass, depending on the ship. For that you need sufficiently strong engines, plus reactors to power them, so there goes another 15 to 35 percent of mass and upwards of 50% of space. Military ships tend to go for extra everything minus luxuries, so taking that and all their additional weapon systems, a Dreadnought has maybe 0.7% of its displacement left for personnel."

The delegates just couldn't. What? Why? Nobody is even pretending that Human ships aren't vastly superior to everything in known space. Even halving all their bulk and power, no-one could take them on.

Sheepishly, the Captain answered:

"Well, yeah... I guess I can't disagree since you're saying it yourselves. But what about the unknown space? What if someone comes up with something better? We're doing that constantly. I mean, that's some of the reason why we have the science ships like the one we're on."

"But I can see your point. If safety protocols didn't demand all these winding bulkhead hallways and modular room structure and all that other stuff, something like a standard issue 3km Cruiser could house a crew of 45'000 instead of a maximum of 1'400."

(continued)

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #carionto #worldbuilding

[wa-weirwood]

Catelyn Stark & Robb Stark with Grey Wind at Oldstones

They reached Oldstones after eight more days of steady rain, and made their camp upon the hill overlooking the Blue Fork, within a ruined stronghold of the ancient river kings. Its foundations remained amongst the weeds to show where the walls and keeps had stood, but the local smallfolk had long ago made off with most of the stones to raise their barns and septs and holdfasts. Yet in the center of what once would have been the castle's yard, a great carved sepulcher still rested, half hidden in waist-high brown grass amongst a stand of ash.

The lid of the sepulcher had been carved into a likeness of the man whose bones lay beneath, but the rain and the wind had done their work. The king had worn a beard, they could see, but otherwise his face was smooth and featureless, with only vague suggestions of a mouth, a nose, eyes, and the crown about the temples. His hands folded over the shaft of a stone warhammer that lay upon his chest. Once the warhammer would have been carved with runes that told its name and history, but all that the centuries had worn away. The stone itself was cracked and crumbling at the corners, discolored here and there by spreading white splotches of lichen, while wild roses crept up over the king's feet almost to his chest.

It was there that Catelyn found Robb, standing somber in the gathering dusk with only Grey Wind beside him. The rain had stopped for once, and he was bareheaded. "Does this castle have a name?" he asked quietly, when she came up to him.

—Catelyn V aSoS

This scene was so vivid I felt compelled to paint it, Robb brooding beside the tomb of a forgotten king has such poetic irony knowing what happens to him shortly after. I like the detail of Robb not wearing his crown in this scene, and the roses covering the king’s tomb evoke the same rose imagery often associated with Lyanna—another Stark gone too young. I think Grey Wind is too small I should have made him way bigger but oh well !

#robb stark #catelyn stark #grey wind #asoiaf art #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #house stark #a storm of swords

[kaffykathy]

Sometimes I look at Lancer's core book and just think about how lacking it is in significant details for all the factions, like who is the current leaders of Union, to founders and owners of the many corporate entities.

I know that doesn't sound like exciting lore to anyone, but for Union, there's no one like the Camerons from Battletech or the Karl Franz from Warhammer Fantasy. And I can see that it was probably purposely implemented like this for the reason that these entities are bigger than the identities that lead them, and that's why when a name like Johnathan Harrison pops up along sith a small blurb of who he is, we start to realize his significance and why Harrison Armory is the way it is. He was basically a fascistic General from Seccomm that fled and made his own Union how he saw fit, and his clones still live up to his legacy to the current setting of Lancer.

At the same time, Union doesn't have any of that. There's no lore about some, or any politician of government in the Core Book at least other than the seats and chairs that they fill. The reason for this is to give the players the ability to make their own interpretations with the world, but it's really saying something when your big government super power claiming to be in a utopian golden age doesn't have a face to its actual organization.

(Side note: if anyone ever tells you that their realm is a Utopia, you should be taking that the same way that someone says that a ship is 'Unsinkable'. Sorry to burst your bubble Pilot NET, but some of you really need to read between the lines about this. Especially with how much of a bureaucratic nightmare DoJ HR is.)

I know that it's very much the case that Massif press could have done this intentionally to show in the Lancer setting that the sum is bigger and more significant than all the parts added together. The world of the setting is too big to care too much about one individual or planet without weeding in a reason why in most cases because unless you're playing a mission book like Solstice Rain, you probably wouldn't be visiting any of the planets or people brought up in the first place. But the thing is, to me, is that this really makes Lancer less lively than I think it should. When I read about the Albatross, I wanna know about their heroes and significant feats and journeys. I could just play and Albatross, but having record of the daily life at the perspective of a nomadic Lancer would have been told so much more than I think the actual descriptions give.

It's why I love the blurb of text on the Sisyphus NHP. It builds a character, tells a narrative, and humanizes this being most probably would only be used to get a better roll. It also implies how cycling actually works for an NHP and the significance to it. And from all this, we can see that Sisyphus knows that his fate is to be cycled and die over and over again. Something barely given full page and it's just text on equipment.

And yet we don't have anything like that for the bigger picture. We don't know that the leaders of Union generally feel or think about the world surrounding us. We don't have a set uniform for Union or any other of the major players. And as a person who was fascinated with historical things like what soldiers wore during the battle of waterloo, or what camo patterns did a certain tank use, I feel like it's a significant diservice to not give us official uniforms and outfits for Union.

Imagine what cultural reflections that could have impacted the clothing an officer would wear.

I don't know, Lancer really likes to skim on the actually interesting descriptions, but I still love it. It's just that it really doesn't give me enough reason to care about things like Cradle or the Solar System in its current timeline. There is a lot of telling, and not showing in the lore for me, but they don't even tell things that historical nuts like me might be interested in.

#kaffy kathy #lancer ttrpg #lancer rpg #i should sleep #sisyphus nhp #Even when I am ranting about Lancer. I am secretly simping for sisyphus NHP

[kit-williams]

To be held in your arms...

Male Lead: Roland Female Lead: Universe/AU: Warhammer 40k/Yandere Space Marines Canon Status: Yes

Note: This is for everyone who requested for a prompt about Roland holding his child in his arms for the first time. Baby is going to be referred in the gender neutral as I got even amount of prompts for him holding a little boy as well as a little girl. I'll explore more of it after fluffuary.

Also thank you everyone for being so kind over this fluffuary!

He missed it and he knew it but little could pull Roland away from the front lines. While he wanted to be there for her... if he didn't go the danger that could eventually come back to the ship would certain kill her. His job was to keep his Bäckerin safe... and their new kinder. The extra hours out of the tight corridors of the heretical vessel... the rites of blessing... the rites of removing his armor... the prayers after... it all was pushed to the front of his mind to stave off the disappointment.

It was well into her sleep cycle when he can finally go and see her. The midwife leading him to the room she was now in as she goes over the medical details that he knows his Bäckerin will recount in far less of a clinical manner. The door opens silently as he feels so large in such a small room... the midwife coming over to wake her up...

"Why wake her?" He lets it slip out of his mouth.

"Feeding time." The older woman says as his Bäckerin groans looking at her glumly and exhausted.

"Just five more..." She pleads.

"And then your babe will be five more closer to dying. Come now this is the most important part." The midwife says with some warmth in her voice.

He stands there quietly as it smells like cleaning fluids and blood... it smells like her blood... hidden under the sheets and covers as she just opens the gown and presses the wriggling flesh to her breast. "Please little one latch." His Bäckerin tiredly sobs.

Part of him twitches as he watches his beloved being moved roughly as well as his child. But he can smell something... underneath the sterile smell. "There just a bit of a stubborn one. Oh you have a visitor my dear."

"I do? Who?" She says so very out of it still and the midwife just points over to him as his Bäckerin looks over her shoulder at him with those large owlish eyes surprised that in her exhausted state she didn't hear him or see him.

"I'll be back in a bit to make sure everything is fine." The midwife states as she pets her head affectionately before leaving the room.

"Roland." His Bäckerin says smiling and utterly tired.

"Bäckerin... I'm..." He shuffles awkwardly as he's not exactly sorry he missed the birth to keep her safe but.

"No need dear... there is always next time." She says smiling. "Come here... they won't bite... not for several months." She says laughing softly.

They looked so tiny... so fragile... so new... he reached a hand out before pulling back not trusting himself but he runs a finger across their back as they nurse from Bäckerin.

"I haven't named them yet... I wanted to wait for you and well I've been a bit out of it from how long it took... and the pain meds... and just... everything. " Bäckerin says with her usual carefree way of talking with him perhaps even more relaxed in tone and nature. "Take your shirt off."

He looked to his Bäckerin confused, "Bäckerin are you sure you're not still on the effects of pain medication?" Roland said with a slight joke in his voice.

"Oh most certainly I am but just do it. Its for the baby's sake. And sit down maybe lean back a bit."

"I don't see-"

"Just trust me."

Roland normally was hardly concerned about others seeing him in lack of attire... he relished his Bäckerin seeing him like this but he was heavily reminded by the midwife before she went into labor and the Chaplain that Bäckerin could not have sex for at minimum a month perhaps even two. But he sat there shirtless just watching her wobble to her feet as she rolled the medica bassinet over, "Hold me."

"Always." Roland replies just putting a hand on her side as she picked up the bundle from the bassinet.

Their eyes look so big on their small head... he remembers all the things that the midwife told him were normal and not to be mistaken as being an aberration. He watches her eyes look at his chest for an area that didn't have a port and then she laid their child on his chest.

His hearts stilled for a moment as he could feel their tiny heartbeating against their chest... they lacked a smell... besides being covered in blood and other fluids... he held his breath as this... this was their child. His eyes focused on their small little nails... he could hear their small inhales... he feels his cheeks wet as there they were... finally here.

"Hello there little one..." He says softly... in a fearful whisper as he breathes life to the next few words, "Ich bin dein Vater... oder Papa." His hearts hurt at the sudden swelling of feeling for this tiny little human that was not even a day old yet.

Roland turned his head and rested it against her side as her fingers ran through his hair with a warm smile looking down at the crying man, "Thank you.... thank you Bäckerin for giving me this."

"Well thank you for making it all happen. It takes two of us to make this." He feels her kiss his head as she uses the time he takes having the baby rest on his chest to sleep as the fear Roland had for the tiny mortal creature they made evaporated in an instant... what was the weird wriggling fleshy thing was their baby... far too soon to say what features are from whom... but he didn't care as he loved them. Just as he loved his Bäckerin and he hoped to love more while he had his time with her.

Fluffuary TagList: @bispecsual @the-californicationist @egrets-not-regrets @libraryshadow @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

#warhammer 40k #fluffuary #fluffuary2024 #OC: Roland Lichtner #yandere #yandere space marine #yandere black templar #black templar #space marine #Bäckerin #Roland x Bäckerin #roland x reader

[ariszed]

Can you tell more about the warband and its members? What's the hierarchy like? Do they have traitor guardsmen?

Here's some scattered info about warlord Tacitus, various members, and a brief description of their home planet.

To discuss hierarchy, first establish some history. The warband was originally founded by Tacitus and a couple other Ultramarine captains who shared similar doubts about the Imperium during the Heresy. Yes, they were loyalists turned traitor! They kept their allegiance lowkey at that time, but when the traitor forces were pushed into the Eye of Terror, Tacitus and the other ex-Ultramarines followed suit.

So Tacitus being the founder, is the leader. Followed by one of his subordinates from his original company, Tiberius, as his second in command. All other captains answer to him if Tacitus is unavailable. Then comes the Inner Circle of veterans who are what remains of the original companies that defected along with Tacitus. Over the centuries, the Inner Circle has dwindled due to people leaving the warband or dying in combat, but they strictly remain as those original ex-Ultramarines. The only exception is the Bloodhound, the warband's grand sorcerer who is an ex-Howling Griffon. With his power, the Bloodhound is effectively the third highest ranked person in the warband. He also trains and leads any other psyker/sorcerer of the group.

The warband likes to keep things organized, so they still follow a similar company-captain structure for their forces. Cornelius is one such captain. A couple of those original ex-Ultramarines remain high ranking captains as well. With their home planet being an ocean world mixed with dense forests, there are groups who specialize in deep sea expeditions and hunting in the forests respectively.

There are no doubt plenty of traitor guardsmen, human axilla, serfs, and regular humans who assist the warband. They're a mix of the descendants of the serfs/guard from the 30k era and various slaves/recruits they managed to find throughout the centuries. These people are the ones who mainly patrol the coasts and the edges of the forests to protect the settlements from any warp creature who ventures too near. The warband is only called over if they have a problem only an astartes can solve. Usually, a sorcerer called the Bestiary helps in all manners of taming or hunting warp creatures, land or sea.

Other than that, they also have a knight house under their ranks, though they've certainly seen better days. Needless to say, Tacitus was very efficient in settlement building and gathering power during his peak thanks Guilliman genes. The planet is well developed and humans relatively happy (or as happy as they can be living in the Eye), even if the warband is in a downwards slump right now.

Of course, that all starts to slowly change once they ally with some Iron Warriors. And Forrix eventually joining their ranks at Tacitus' side certainly helps them rebuild :]

#there's still some characters who don't have names or are barely developed so i wont mention them yet #the Warband #Warlord Tacitus #Tiberius #the Bloodhound #zedtalks #warhammer 40k #wh40k #ocs #warhammer 40k ocs

[howtofightwrite]

So, uh, I know that this place is mostly for writing, but making your own TTRPG system kinda qualifies as writing, doesn't it?

Either way - here's a fighting-related question that came up during my process making it. Is fear an important aspect of combat? Small-scale combat, to be specific, not the kind where you see a thousand of knights fight another thousand of knights.

Would wounds (or even hits that are strong enough to be felt through armour) inflict noticeable stress to a well-trained soldier? Would it be bad enough to, potentially, make them panic, even if they aren't in any actual danger yet? Or would that mostly be a problem with inexperienced fighters, and training/combat experience could make someone relatively desensitized to that sort of thing?

It's probably worded weirdly, I know, but, in general, what I'm trying to ask here is - should one consider stress/fear as a thing that might change the tides mid-combat, even if cowardice (or anything similar) isn't a major character trait for neither of the combatants?

This one isn't really writing, it's a game design question, and fully answering it is going to require digging a lot deeper into what you're trying to do with the game. It is entirely reasonable for your character to still suffer some lesser injuries from hits their armor absorbed, and for you to have a secondary mental stat that gauges your character's mental ability to keep functional. Warhammer's Morale and the Storyteller system's Willpower stats come to mind as examples of this. Also Call of Cthulhu's Sanity stat, though that's a little more involved.

So in game design, you need to decide how you want combat to feel. And, this can be anything from gritty realism to a fun power fantasy. In fact, the genre of your game will heavily determine how you want your systems to shape your experience.

I can't remember if Warhammer tabletop does this, or if I'm conflating it with Gladius and Dawn of War, but, in Warhammer your units actually have a separate morale hitpool. Obviously, for a lot of armies in Warhammer, keeping your units fighting against horrific, unknowable abominations is a major theme, so a main system (and a part of every unit stat card) is how much stress they can take before they have a complete nervous breakdown, and start running in the opposite direction. In fact, in tabletop, the game actually has multiple systems evaluating whether your own units will actually follow their orders at all. The difficulty of commanding troops against impossible threats is a central theme of the systemic narrative Warhammer is trying to create, so it gets multiple top level systems.

Compare that to D&D, where there are no top level systems regarding the mental state of your characters. They signed up to fight unknowable abominations, and magpie their way through the world, so when they encounter something genuinely unnerving, that gets special rules on that monster. It's not part of the power fantasy of D&D (most of the time.) So when it does show up, it just gets attached as an addendum to an existing rule system or as a special rule for one creature.

So, what does your game system want?

If you want a small scale, sword & sorcery brawler, you probably don't need to model their mental state, or how afraid they are. You really need to know if their morale is high, and when it is high, you can probably handle that with simple conditional buffs. In fact, this is probably a system where you wouldn't even want to model a low mental state, unless things are truly dire, or supernaturally oppressed. (Again, with special rule cases for that, because it's not going to come up very often.)

This probably should have been a few paragraphs earlier, but just looking at an RPG's character sheet can often tell you a lot about what the designer intended for their game. The things your players are going to have to interact with regularly need dedicated systems. Stuff that comes up rarely, shouldn't get dedicated systems. (And, this is a very real issue with a lot of RPGs, where there are a lot of different systems to keep track of, that could have been scrubbed out and set aside as flavor or special rules. Including with D&D.)

If your primary focus is a kind of horror RPG, then you need those extra systems. You're going to be dealing with them constantly. You might want an attribute called Resolve (or whatever) to specifically model how well a character handles dealing with horrific situations, or seeing their friends ripped to shreds. You might also have a separate tracked HP pool (similar to how Darkest Dungeon handles it) specifically focused on their ability to manage psychological strain.

If you're going for that, psychological damage can be a lot more deciduous in a tabletop environment, because you cannot armor yourself against that. Characters might be able to have some psychological resistance through strenuous mental conditioning, but again, as the game designer, you control exactly how much a player can stack up, so you can balance around the absolute maximum damage that a player could mitigate, while also keeping in mind how much the raw damage would do to a defenseless character.

You could have a rule system where characters can pretty reliably soak off most of the physical damage, but suffer serious attrition due to psychological (or, even magical) damage that they couldn't mitigate.

How armor works in your game is a similar situation, where the rules need to follow the kind of experience you're trying to create. However, unlike dealing with psychological strain, armor rules also need to consider how easy they are to implement at the table. A lot of CRPGs use % based armor mitigation, and that's great, if you have a computer that can crunch those numbers for you. If you're at the table and rolling 3d8, it's going to be a lot more awkward to figure out what 43% mitigation will do to your resulting values. So, it's a lot easier to simply say that armor subtracts X from incoming hits. Like, “Armor 2 means that each incoming attack does two less damage.” This starts to run into a balance problem. In theory, a character with sufficient armor might be able to mitigate all incoming damage (and you will have players who stack defense with this specific goal in mind. You can't escape that.)

This leads to one of my favorite solutions for this. I think it was J.E. Sawyer's Fallout 3 that never happened, but the idea is that if you're taking damage from hits, and your armor is absorbing that, it goes into a second, less severe, damage category. To use the example of White Wolf's Storyteller system, you convert lethal damage into bashing. It can still kill your characters, but it reduces the overall effect of that damage in the moment, makes it a lot easier to recover from, but also doesn't let them just walk in and soak all the damage without issue. So, for example, your character has Armor 4, an enemy swings on them for 8 lethal damage, and 4 points of damage are converted to bashing. (When their lethal + bashing damage reaches their HP pool then they're downed or knocked out), but they're not in danger of dying unless they take more lethal damage, or are suffering from some ongoing damage effect (like bleeding.)

Another, more lethal option I really liked from a D20 system (so, basically 3.5e D&D), was Star Wars's vitality system. The Wizards of the Coast Star Wars RPG had two HP pools. One was the normal hit dice per level based on class from D&D called Vitality (if you ever wondered why your HP in KotOR was called Vitality, this is why.) The second pool was Wounds. This was equal to your Constitution score. So, if you had CON 12, you could take 12 wound points. If you ran out of Vitality, damage would apply directly to your wound pool, and if you ran out of wound points, you were dead. Just, dead. No downed state, no stabilizing, you were toast. And, here's the thing that I might be misremembering, but if you critically hit someone, instead of multiplying your damage, your damage bypassed their vitality and went directly to wounds. This meant you had a fairly normal D&D rule set that could turn lethal with very little warning. Still a concept from game design that I like to keep in mind, because it creates a very dangerous feel in combat. Because of how the flavor was written, Vitality damage didn't even necessarily mean your character was being directly harmed. Taking damage from vitality might mean your character narrowly escaped getting hit by a blaster bolt, or that they effectively parried an incoming lightsaber attack. It still had the effect of wearing characters down over time without automatically meaning that they were suffering absolutely implausible amounts of injuries (though it could, also mean that your character had suffered minor cuts and scrapes or that their armor had taken a few hits for them.)

Something that gives the player a bit more control over their own durability would be to give items HP pools of their own. This isn't a normal item deterioration ruleset, but rather you're giving their armor a fixed amount of HP, that it can absorb in their place. So, to refresh that example above, if your character has Armor 4, and they're hit for 8 damage, instead of taking 4 bashing, they might choose to have that damage dealt directly to their armor. (And, this is a case where the decision to how to deal with that damage could be in the player's hands if you wanted. It gives them some proactive agency while taking damage, which is rare in TTRPGs.) You could even use this for a blowthrough rule, where if a character takes more damage in a single hit than their armor's remaining HP, the armor is destroyed and offers no protection from that attack. This, again, plays more into horror, as their armor will be wearing down over time, and if they're not performing regular maintenance to try to keep it working, could potentially fail them in combat. (It also creates a very cathartic moment for players to sheer through an enemy's armor, dropping them on the spot.)

All of this can and really should be, tuned for your systems and numbers. I have biases on exactly how granular I like my TTRPGs, but that doesn't mean you're tied to those values, and some people really do like the triple digit HP pools of high level characters in D&D and Pathfinder. I'm not going to say you're wrong for that, because I don't think you are, but obviously, something like Armor 4 means something very different if you have an average HP of 8-12, versus, if you have an average HP pool ~72.

So, when balancing combat to create the experience you want, you need to keep track of average combatant HP, average attack damage, and the mitigation options characters can use. At this point, you then need to decide how you want these to relate to one another. All of these values are relative to each other. From a gameplay perspective, there's no difference between a game where characters have 10hp, and each hit connects for 1 damage, vs a game where players have 40k HP, and each hit connects for 8k. It's the same game, the only thing that's changed is the amount of numbers you have to scribble onto the page while tracking damage. If you think your characters are too resistant to incoming damage, you can increase the amount of damage attacks do, or limit the amount of mitigation they have access to. Limiting mitigation can take the form of simply reducing how much damage resistance they can get, or it can function by adding additional considerations to their mitigation (as mentioned above.) (Granted, the Vitality system is a bit of a nuclear option, because that will change your combat to be exceedingly threatening, without becoming instantly lethal. Which, might be what you want.)

You have a lot of freedom for how you shape your players' experiences, and with a bit of creativity you can provide a unique combat experience for your players.

-Starke

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