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    1. Drunken Conquistador 10 yrs ago

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NRP, Star Wars, Dragon Age and Warhammer (Fantasy and 40k) enthusiast. Feel free to PM me about any related RPs

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Happy to work on history with anyone- loving everything so far!


If you want, hit me up on the convo and we can work out some sort of shared history. Our houses are both old and are (or were at some point) considerably influential. It's not unlikely that we've crossed paths in the past
<Snipped quote by Pepperm1nts>

Yep. The plan is to have no clear successor and a bureaucracy sort of bungling things. The imperial family will be in hiding and seeking asylum and safety with powerful houses only to be taken hostage or murdered. As for the imperial authority, specifically the tip commanders, maybe a coup in the core worlds? I'm not quite sure how to handle all of the npc factions myself. Any thoughts?

IC will be up Monday PM EST at the latest.


How united is the IB? Depending on whether or not the entire body has a single agenda we could see groups backing different factions, their diverging agendas causing a rupture in the organization.

How large is the Imperial Family? If there are too many of them, we could have half a dozen or so claimants popping up across the void, wherever they might find any support.

We could use the military coup as spark that lit the pownder. The Emperor died, things are getting out of hand, a cabal of high ranking officers in the capital decide to seize control of the state apparatus to "save the Empire". Except the coup does not goes as planned. The capital is theirs, but loyalists managed to smuggle at least some of the Imperial Family out. And in the confusion, many of their other targets escaped. They got a puppet child on the throne, but any notion of Unity os dead.

Elsewhere, we could mimic Rome and have any half popular commander declaring himself Emperor.

Add separatists, Xenos and religious chaos, and we've got our overeaching plot
<Snipped quote by Drunken Conquistador>

Love it. Our factions have overlapping motivations and ambitions, so I look forward to the House Kesselbrood/Rankov joint scheming and/or rivalry. The Kesselbroods will be sending out feelers to other Great Houses who might be interested in ending the Imperial experiment and returning to a patchwork confederation of Great Lords, so it'll be interesting to see how receptive the Rankovs are.


You will have to remember that the legitimacy of the Rankovs stem from their appointment to the Exarchate BY the Empire. Before they were only one of the many houses of Virezhir, and not even one of the largest ones. Over time they built up their power internally, but you've still got prestigious houses with links to their predecessors.

And just as the Rankovs are trying to loosen the Imperial yoke, some of their vassals wish to do the same for them.



So that's my faction idea. The plot arcs I have in mind for them mostly deal with internal power struggles among nobles and fighting threats on the "frontier". So, what do you guys think? Does it fit with the setting?
Are there any actors outside the Empire and its factions? Some lingering alien empires threatening the borders, extragalactic raiders? My idea was to play as an autonomous border province, established to keep that section of the Imperial border border safe.
I'm interested
Tari-Salumamatu

At the best of times, the Imperial capital of Lamash was a busy city. A veritable hive of activity, abuzz with life from the outermost suburbs near the first ring of walls, to the opulent corridors of the Padishah's palace. Now that the Gund was mobilizing, the city was absolutely swarming. Swollen like a pregnant colossus, ready to give birth to the hosts that would engulf the world into the flames of war and Yuwan's worship. The barracks and forts spread through the sumptuous city were filled to the brim with new recruits and regiments arriving from the hinterlands. The markets were overcrowded by merchants following the trail of money that always accompanied a mobilization, while a host of auxiliaries, from medics to prostitutes, did the same. Even the palatial estates of the nobility, resting around the Padishah's Palace in their own private island and isolated from the hustle and bustle of their inferior by thick walls and the sea, were experiencing levels of activity unseen in the previous decades as more and more magnates and grandees arrived from all across the Empire to take part in the muster.

All across the land of Lamash the might of the Lion was stirring. And it was in Tari-Salummatu that its head was rising. The pall of apathy and the air of lethargy that had taken hold of the nation for the last seven decades was finally dissipating,

Suh was up to her chin in the preparations for this great undertaking. Her Mighty Father was too busy congregating with the Angel, the Peris and the Lammasu, seeking to discern the Goddess' Will to take too close a role in mustering the vast armies of His domain. So it fell to Suh and a legion of lords, servants and bureaucrats to carry out the minutiae, the boring day to day tasks that ensured that the power of Lamash could be wielded as sharp and tempered steel in the hands of Her Mighty Father.

Not that the Padishah's daughter minded her herculean workload. She was one of the few surviving children of the Great Zirgun, as such it was her duty to serve the Padishah in any way shape or form He required of her. For Suh that meant diving headfirst into military affairs, regardless of her personal preferences, she had an image and reputation to maintain after all. Besides, she was always too busy to let her mind wander these days. By itself this was a blessing, for the Golden Daughter had found her mind increasingly treacherous ever since Her Mighty Father decreed that the Empire would march to war.

Centuries at the forefront of Lamash's armies had given Suh glory and adoration that few within the Empire could match, hundreds of songs were created to honor her triumphs. Stories and plays crafted to celebrate her victories. To the masses, she was the Unbeatable Princess, a legend on the battlefield whose presence was enough to inspire warriors to feats of suicidal valor.

What her carefully crafted image conveniently left out was the sheer amount of anguish that several lifetimes on the battlefield brought to oneself. The sheer scale of the bloodshed in the mighty clashes during the early days of the Sacrilege War, the endless injuries and wounds, the collective misery of defeat. And worst of all, the seemingly endless stream of lost friends, lost lovers and lost children that made even the greatest victory taste like ash and feeling as if her very heart had been gored by a spear.

To think she grew up wishing this life...oh what a stupid little girl she had been. Careful with what you wish for, it was not a Lamashi expression, but it kept coming back to her mind regardless. And with even greater frequency now that she had donned the Golden Armor again. Maybe she had heard it from someone among the many other Yuwanist forces she fought with in the last 3 centuries. Not that it mattered anymore.

She sighed, chasing these unworthy thoughts away. She was Suh, daughter of Zirgun and she had a duty to her Father, to her family, to her people and to her Goddess. What she wanted or not was irrelevant, for the stakes were higher than her mere comfort. Her duty came in many forms and it always took precedence over everything else.

Suh kept telling herself that as the servants finished strapping her armor. The duel she was about to fight was just one of the many ways her duties manifested. Some sprog with more pride than skill had challenged her to a duel during a feast in the preceding week. The brat had refused to drop the challenge once his hangover had passed next morning, and so the details of the match were arranged. At least he had enough sense to agree to first blood only. Suh had no desire to shed the blood of her fellow Lamashi. Specially the young ones, still blinded by tales of glory and triumph without any kind of real experience. A good beating would do the boy good.

She emerged from her rooms in one of the fortified bastions into a training plaza. Golden plates glimmering under the sun as she strode through the large crowd that had gathered to watch the duel. It wasn't every day that one could witness the Golden Daughter fight. Even if many would have preferred her to be facing an opponent on her level, like Zahak-Din or Mehuga Zarun.

The mass of spectators parted, giving her an open way to the center of their impromptu dueling ring. Her opponent and the judge were already there. An imposing Lamassu with a handsome patrician face by the name of Buhru-Sin had been chosen to oversee the match, he stood before a crate of weapons from the bastion's own arsenals. As part of the terms of the match, they would be able to bring their own armors, but not their own weapons.

"And here I was thinking you had given up!" Her challenger called out as Suh approached. All false bravado with an edge of desperation, Suh had done the same thing enough times to know. She did not take the bait.

"With both contestants present, the duel can begin." Buhru-Sin intoned in the deep baritone common to his race. "But first, do any of you wish to review the rules?"

"This people didn't come here to listen to you droning on about rules." The boy smirked. "They came here to see Ammurapi Farshid of Tar Illim defeat the great Golden Daughter!" Some among the crowd cheered at his bravado, others booed and laughed. No doubt bets were heavily against him.

The Lamassu turned to Suh and she shook her head. Better get this started as soon as possible. The Lamassu nodded to both fighters and walked away to join the crowd, letting both go to the weapon crates to choose their armament. Ammurapi picked a steel greatsword, swinging it around to test his new weapon as Suh did the same to the shield and mace she found in another crate.

Both fighters went to opposite sides of the ring, the judge intoned a quick prayer to Yuwan and declared the duel started.

Ammurapi charged first with a mighty roar and the greatsword raised above his head. Always so aggressive, these youths without experience. Suh met his challenge in silent, striding forward with her shield raised and mace at the ready. Her foe brought his sword in a downwards swing. The boy was fast, Suh would give him that, and strong too. But so was she, the shield had no trouble stopping the blow. Even if the strength of it made the arm holding it shake a little.

A kick in the knee transferred the initiative to Suh and she wasted no time in showering the younger Lamashi with mace blows. More to test his reflexes and skill rather than any real desire to win the fight. She wanted to get a feel of her opponent first, if this Amumurapi impressed her enough she would find an use for him. The boy managed to parry and deflect blow after blow, but was nevertheless pushed back by the sheer ferocity of the attacks, trying to gain some distance and get her within the reach of his weapon. His brow furrowing and straining as sweat started running down his face.

Ammurapi's feint managed to catch Suh by surprise and give him enough time to wheel away from her before she could drive him into the crowd. Whose cacophony had become white noise to Suh, in a real battle, one should always pay attention to one's surroundings. But in an official duel like this? She could afford focusing solely on her challenger.

The boy continued distancing himself hurriedly as Suh strode towards him. Stopping briefly to catch his breath and roll out his shoulders. He smiled at her, another forced boast escaping his throat:

"No songs or prayers today, Your Grace?" The Golden Daughter never fought silently, the stories always gave her an inspiring speech, glorious song or prayer when she fought the enemies of Lamash, always eager to make herself heard above the din of battle, challenging her enemies to come and try silence her. But Suh, the real person, had long lost the patience or taste for such frivolous and distracting displays. These days she stopped at pre-battle speeches.

Suh charged him, raising her mace to her left but instead shoving Ammurapi with her shield, catching him unawares and disrupting his balance. The following blow was real, hitting him in the right wrist as he tried to get enough distance to attack with his greatsword. The boy almost dropped his weapon as he stumbled back. Any hint of bravado or false confidence gone from his face as he watched Suh moving for the final blow.

Then, in his desperation, Ammurapi intoned something and Suh felt the wardens in her armor easily dissipating whatever last resort trick he tried to play. She wasn't the only one to perceive this last move, as the Lamassu angrily stomped forward to put an end to the duel, for magic had been explicitly forbidden during the negotiations.

The boy dropped his weapon, kneeling as he frantically apologized and pleaded for mercy. It was an automatic reaction, he didn't meant to cheat. It was just that he was so scared....pathetic. Biting more than he could chew and then resorting to trickery and cheating once he had finally accepted the reality of the situation. Scratch the thought of bringing him under her wing. Suh would never accept someone with so little honor among her retainers.

She opened her mouth to lecture the boy, shame him further before the crowd that he so desperately tried to impress. Except that instead of opening her mouth, she kicked him. Sending him back first into the ground. She then tried to spit on him, but instead her armored foot went to his throat. By this time the Lamassu was upon them:

"Ammurapi Farshid of Tar Illim broke the rules of the duel by trying to use magic!" He cried out to the now shocked crowd. "He has forfeited his life by bringing such dishonor to this ritual. His life is now in the hands of his opponent."

Suh, who was now internally panicking, continued to press her foot on his throat as Ammurapi tried frantically to escape. She didn't want to kill him! Oh Yuwan, he was just some dumb kid, didn't even had a beard yet. Defeat and humiliation were enough, she just wanted to humble him. He was crying and begging for his life, that was enough for her.

"He has dishonored the Goddess Herself and all the sacred traditions of our people!" Her mouth shouted as the cold pit in her stomach grew. What was happening to her? Why couldn't she control her own body? "This wretched whelp deserves only a dog's death!"

The crowd cheered and Suh, or whomever was controlling her actions laughed and spat on the now sobbing Ammurapi. Her foot dug deeper, cutting the flow of air to his lungs completely. She felt herself smile as Ammurapi's face started going blue. Then, just as he was about to pass out, her foot was raised. Ammurapi coughed and sputtered for a few seconds as Suh finally wrested back control of her body.

Except she didn't. Whatever force had made her a prisoner in her own flesh had simply decided to stomp poor Ammurapi's face in instead of simple suffocation. Suh could only watch as she killed the defenseless Lamashi to the cheers of the crowd. And then, just as the boy died, Suh regained control of her body. Too late to do anything besides playing along and retiring as soon as possible. There was no way she could do anything else. Panicking wouldn't do anyone any good, she had an image to maintain, a reputation to uphold. People depended on her, she couldn't show weakness just as they were about to go to war.

She kept telling herself that as she hurried back to the palace. She needed help and she needed answers, and there were only a few people who could provide her with both.
Tigranes' body screamed its weariness to him as the former miner awoke. Ignoring the dull aches and tiredness that seeped his form as he carefully checked his meager belongings to ensure nothing had been stolen. Petty thievery was an endemic problem during his days back in Hayk, it would be incredibly naive to assume that a Penal Legion wouldn't suffer from the same malaise. Upon finding out that there wasn't anything amiss (and how could it be, when Tigranes pretty much cuddled his bag every night to ensure nothing would mysteriously disappear come next morning) he put on his boots and flak armor with practiced smoothness.

He exited the dugout with shovel in hand and his lascarbine shouldered. Leaving the gun where it could be easily reached in case of heretic attack, the Legionnaire busied himself with digging, hoping that this time they would get to stay in this position for a little while. Though, truth be told, the digging didn't really bother him that much. He had grown used to it far before he ever ended up in redemption. He had been born in a miner family, after all, and if it weren't for the civil war back home he would've lived out the rest of his days digging new veins of rich minerals and carrying cartloads of valuable ore back to the surface. And then at the end of the day return to wife and kids. Maybe he would've managed to marry that pretty shepherdess and...

He shook the thoughts away. No matter how much he disciplined his mind, Tigranes never managed to chase these daydreams away entirely. Contemplating them would do no good. Only weaken his resolve as he longed for something he would not and could never have. Instead, he struck the earth with increased resolve and force, as if beating the dirt into submission would help him focus on the task at hand.
So am I.
@Drunken Conquistador@Laduguer@Amaranth@DeadDrop

Okie dokie, I'm going to do a time-jump, because I cannae think of anything else to do, is that alright with everyone (even DeadDrop)?


Fine by me.

I'm assuming the time skip is going to be to the actual start of the deployment of the penal legion?
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