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Grouchio posted:I love that show, yet I still do not know the stars, planets, weapons, divisions and specific non-major events enough to understand much when role-playing a tech-priest. I make up most everything for the story  I mention some of the canonical stars/worlds/whatever, but not very much. Feel free to ask questions ^_^
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Mar 8, 2016 01:11
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Grouchio posted:I love that show, yet I still do not know the stars, planets, weapons, divisions and specific non-major events enough to understand much when role-playing a tech-priest. All you need to know is that it was a nice enough galaxy, barring a few millennia of war... And then we messed it all up FOREVER. 
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Mar 8, 2016 05:02
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Current: 439547 http://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=q_hwqbhdQLI https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kpcTtWSG7yM Twenty Three There was power in words, it is said. A word in the right place - or the wrong one - can start wars, win or lose them. Sticks and stones may hurt you, but words will kill you slow, one devouring syllable at a time. If you know the right words, you can ruin someone, or make them great. Although less common, there are also power in numbers. Sacred numerology, one of the secret lores of those who would know. The Mechanicus was the largest holder of them - their knowledge of discrete mathematics and higher forms allowed them to build engines the size of mountains, to traverse the continents or leap into the void. The Inquisition knew of sacred numbers as well, taken in large part from the seized tomes of cultists across the galaxy. The sacred numbers were core to the Great Enemy. The Weaver of Fate was Nine, itself three by three. The Blood God was Eight - two by two by two. The Plague Lord was Seven - a number whose power was known even to laymen. And She Who Thirsts was Six. Neither square nor prime, She could be all things to all people. The appearance of a downward count is merely the speculation of the idle. Twenty three of the most holy waited in a shuttle, knowing they were going to their deaths. An acceptable sacrifice, to allow the breach by the main body of forces. Such a thing as them was as the Sun to the creatures of the Warp - blinding and alluring, the provider of life and heat, but also the source of their incandescence. The Warp itself trembled at their approach, withdrawing at a distance of dozens of kilometers. Daemons rose out of the murk, thousands - millions? Gathering around the strange thing before them. It was, to quote an ancient poet, as if an ocean was gathered around a candle, attempting to warm itself. The results, as it were, were no surprise to anyone. The bubble popped, and the Warp filled around them, and the creatures that lived there. A sphere of faces surrounded them, maws of beauty and hunger, claws and teeth and pincers. Every daemon in a [non-Euclidean measure] distance was there, pulled away from the entrance of the Maw. Drawn by this little thing. It was an avatar of the God-Emperor Himself, pressing out against them. The great presence that beamed from Terra, bringing tides of holy light and banishment, had focused in on this point, and the twenty three Martyrs were burning brighter than mortal eyes could envision. All was white around them, and even as their eyes melted like pitch, they could see. The madness of the Warp assaulted them in waves, even as the thousands of daemons melted into nothingness - permanently destroyed. They were the weakest first, pushed ahead by their stronger brethren. Sacrificial waves, to be fed to the sacrifice of the Martyrs. The daemons burned away, and the Martyrs burned with them. There weren’t Saints. There was something else - something different. Perhaps even something new. The God-Emperor was using them to channel Himself, the power beating like a great heart, and their bodies could not bear it for long. For all their purification and all their Faith, they were only human. And the God-Emperor wasn’t. It took tens of thousands of daemons - entire armies, enough to conquer countless worlds - to break them down. The daemons didn’t break through the God-Emperor’s power, oh no. Instead, the human frailties broke them. It took time - perhaps even days or weeks, as their bodies were slowly converted to pure psychic energy, and then devoured. Fed into the blaze that was the inferno on Terra. One by one, they slowly winked out, and were gone. An empty shuttle, battered and of the purest white, rested motionlessly outside Ceres. . Any suggestion that twenty three - the ninth prime, itself three by three, and composed of three lesser primes - might be related to the Architect of Fate is, of course, nonsense. - The poet mentioned, of course, is Pratchett.
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Mar 8, 2016 06:42
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Current: 440,239 Maelstrom “This is Hell,” Hera muttered “Nor am I out of it.” You blinked at her. “Hm?” She gestured distastefully, rubbed her arms. “I don’t like this. The feel of this place.” If anything, your confusion mounted. “You’ve traveled the Warp a thousand times.” “Yeah, but this … is more focused. I’ve rerouted everything I can spare to the Gellar fields. If you could see me right now, you’d see only half an eye looking out from twenty meters of bunker.” “And the rest hiding?” “Got it in one. You shouldn’t have brought us here.” “Needs must when the devil drives.” Athena’s tone was brisk. “Easy for you to say. Your body isn’t even here.” She shrugged. “I’m sure the Warp would do unpleasant things to this Avatar if it could. Don’t worry Hera, we all believe in you.” Hera gestured, presumably at the outside. “So do they. I’m rather worried their belief is stronger.” You shook your head. “That’s not true even a little bit. A few dozen of our Martyrs distracted the gate. It was unguarded when we went in, and even now they are destroying thousands of daemons. Our Faith will win us through yet.” Hera grunted skeptically. “Our best, most faithful are out there destroying thousands. You know as well as I do that they won’t survive, and we can’t replicate it.” “Trusting in your technology?” “No.” Hera’s voice was bitter. “This is a bad place, Ohone. We should have found an alternate method of winning.” “Any suggestions? Would have been nice to get some.” “We rely on you for the crazy ideas.” “Well, this is my crazy idea.” Hera smiled briefly, if humorlessly. “It’s pretty crazy.” “Stick with what I do best, that’s what I always say.” Fabiyan tapped the handle of pistol absently - you could see the worn grips that fit to him perfectly. He had had it a long time, most of his life. Absently, you wondered if you could improve it in someway, or even if he would want it changed. He was often stubborn about some things. “What are we seeing out there?” Hera turned her head to him. “In the Warp?” “Well, we can’t really take a look. So, what do you see?” “Daemons.” “I figured. But, you said it was different from the usual?” Hera paused.  “Yeah. It’s different.” Loel fucked around with this message at 23:56 on Mar 8, 2016 |
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Mar 8, 2016 07:20
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Trust the tech-priest to end up someplace metal. 
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Mar 8, 2016 07:25
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well, that's not good how big is the titan compared to that?
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Mar 8, 2016 07:29
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meteloides posted:well, that's not good You assume we are in a place where size has meaning. A better question would be: how big does the titan make you feel?
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Mar 8, 2016 07:31
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Oh man what an update. Also dear
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Mar 8, 2016 16:25
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She looks fun. Let's call her Stampy. You know the mind controllers the evil reptilians on Dinoriders used on the T-rex Et al? Can we slap on on a few of the greater demons and go from there? If we change how they perceive the world we could do a brain in the jar and control them by making them think we are demons and demons are space marines, dreadnoughts, titans etc. Don't look at me like that Hera, you wanted crazy and I've delivered. Now go design me some demon hats. Edit: Bolded because it's my actual vote, not idle speculation. Outrail fucked around with this message at 22:15 on Mar 8, 2016 |
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Mar 8, 2016 16:53
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That's actually the warp's equivalent of a dust mite. If man could truly comprehend the scale of his insignificance he would know true madness. The warp shows the true face of things. Helmsman Eduoard, guide us to our quarry! Steady as she goes.
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Mar 8, 2016 17:38
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If a dust mite gets into your brain it could cause a stroke. An army of mites could bring a legion to the ground. Don't dwell on how insignificant you are, consider instead how significant you may become. The world is our carpet, we can dwell within or tread upon it. Outrail fucked around with this message at 20:42 on Mar 8, 2016 |
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Mar 8, 2016 20:40
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Kill it with Fire!
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Mar 8, 2016 20:52
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If Huron lives within a castle atop a hulking dust mite, then what is that mite walking around on? Don't look down.
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Mar 8, 2016 21:04
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I like turtles (all the way down)
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Mar 8, 2016 21:44
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The turtle was actually a chicken all along.
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Mar 8, 2016 21:54
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poo poo, the idea that what we see is the warp-form of Huron's ship makes so much sense. KILL IT WITH FIRE anyhow!
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Mar 8, 2016 21:58
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So the image...disappeared. 
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Mar 8, 2016 23:20
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IT WAS NOT MEANT FOR MORTAL EYES
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Mar 8, 2016 23:37
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Current: 440,239 Brain in a Jar Your command staff was staring wordlessly at the screen before them. Carefully filtered, over and over again, run through Geller fields and holy-water-cooled machines, it was a view of the outside of the ship. Or, at least as much as the human mind could comfortably deal with. You had some internal concerns about bringing Minds here - what if they went rogue like they had during the Dark Age of Technology? But they seemed to be holding it pretty well together, at least so far. It was hard to tell distance, or scale, in a place like this. But there was something in the way they moved - the sheer bulk, the slow sloughing of skin and debris - that suggested something larger than Titans, perhaps larger than Hive Cities. The fortresses on their back seemed to suggest it, at least, and the daemons themselves were climbing ponderously through mountainous swamps of parasitic worms. You could see them burrowing at the hooves of the monster - and infrequently, a leg was drawn in. You were pretty sure that the hills would pull down an entire daemon, if you watched long enough. Fabiyan cleared his throat. “So… any guess on what those are?” Hera shrugged disgustedly. “Concepts made form. Decay, inevitability. Tradition. Surrender. Memory.” “I would think those would be good things. The God-Emperor is a god of tradition, for example.” “Sure, but the Great Enemy … takes them to their maximum. If you were to approach those cities, I expect you would see buildings decaying as much as their inhabitants. Lives of ritual and inertia.” Ching Shih gave a faint smile at that, but didn’t comment. “So, if they are concepts… could we mess with them a bit? Project enough psyker energy to make them think each other is … an aberration, or something?” Hera coughed. “Yes, well.” The room paused with uncomfortable silence. You looked at the others, then at her. “Well?” “This place draws on self image.” “Yeah, so?” “I’ve been this ship for twenty thousand years.” “So, what, the Beast … looks like how you picture yourself?”  “Uhm… you could say that.”
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Mar 9, 2016 04:25
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WHERE'S DEVRIES
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Mar 9, 2016 04:51
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Cool... Is that supposed to be a planet sized sperm/egg metaphor thing? Also hera is misdirecting, can she make some stimuli hats or not?
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Mar 9, 2016 05:15
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Are we saying that the Beast appears to the rest of the things around us as however it is Hera imagines herself as after a zillion years? So, pretty badass, right?
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Mar 9, 2016 05:24
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I don't know whether to play the Pacific Rim theme or give her the biggest hug. Is that an unstoppable, perfect war machine thing or this kind of an "As Hera awoke one morning from uneasy dreams she found herself transformed in her bed into a gigantic insect" deal? e: it is pretty neat to think that Minds have the sheer... ego, if not psychic presence, to be Big Deals in the Warp. Though that is of course relative.
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Mar 9, 2016 05:27
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Hera said Usually, meaning she's been here before. She's been in the warp long enough to gain a familiarity with it. Just for shits and giggles Look at ourselves in the mirror with our Psyocculum, hell look at everyone!
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Mar 9, 2016 06:19
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Arkanomen posted:If Huron lives within a castle atop a hulking dust mite, then what is that mite walking around on? Don't look down. Reminds me of the fields of muscle fiber you used to get in dwarf fortress.
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Mar 9, 2016 06:27
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Arkanomen posted:Hera said Usually, meaning she's been here before. She's been in the warp long enough to gain a familiarity with it. ##vote 1. let's not and say we didn't. remember how hosed up we were after Agatha's World? that'll be a blip compared to playing with the psyocculum right now.
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Mar 9, 2016 06:44
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LowellDND posted:ah, see, the picture I was using was
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Mar 9, 2016 16:17
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We just have the whole ship meditate on the word "Invictus" over and over again.
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Mar 9, 2016 19:01
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I've got loving chills.
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Mar 9, 2016 19:56
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meteloides posted:##vote We'll be fine. It will also be valuable information on people's inner selves. Get the literal inside scoop on Ching and the minds and Fabs. All were going to see the mirror is hello kitty covered in mechadendrites.
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Mar 9, 2016 20:08
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Deadmeat5150 posted:I've got loving chills. Yeah, I'm loving the atmospherics and the sense of otherness . Do we have an anti-daemon horn? BWAAAMP! edit: unrelated. Thanks for the Honor Harrington suggestion, Lowell. 80% through book one and loving it Hexenritter fucked around with this message at 20:36 on Mar 9, 2016 |
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Mar 9, 2016 20:33
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Grouchio posted:Can/has Rogal Dorn shown up yet? Yes  Deadmeat5150 posted:I've got loving chills. ^_^ Hexenritter posted:Yeah, I'm loving the atmospherics and the sense of otherness . Only gets better from there You'll see a lot of the missile spam in the later books that I have going in the Terra fight
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Mar 9, 2016 21:14
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Ask Hera and Athena if we can give them a hug and tell them thanks. Don't bother asking Fabian. He gets a hug and a kiss and a thanks and a butt grab.
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Mar 10, 2016 00:07
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Current: 440,609 Awoke as a giant insect You started at the screen in something like shock. “So, we … are travelling around in a planet sized war-machine?” Hera shrugged half self-consciously. “Continent sized.” “I mean. We could take some of the shuttles and fly around in the newer bigger Beast?” “I wouldn’t recommend it.” Athena’s tone was amused. “Going into the Warp without a Geller field. Bad idea.” You waved it off. “Well, fly inside then. Travel hundreds of kilometers through … the legs? I guess?” “A better question would be, can we use the Beast to stomp those daemons.” Fabiyan’s voice was firm. “They only looked mountain-sized, after all.” Hera gestured frustratedly. “It doesn’t really work like that. We could approach and find them as large as stars, depending on their surety.” You glanced at Athena. “And you? Where is your planet-sized war machine?” “I’m just me.” Her tone was brisk. “I’ve never had any misgivings or self-doubt about the war.” “Only because you never participated in it.” Hera noted, eyes narrowed. “You coming around on that, then? That I wasn’t behind the betrayal?” Fabiyan coughed. “Let’s focus, please. I think this is the last place in the universe for self doubt or recriminations.” Hera looked at him, then nodded. “Fine.” You tapped your fingers. “So, only the one planet sized war-machine.” Your husband almost laughed, an odd coughing sound. “You are the only person I’ve ever met who would be sad there was just the one.” “Well, I just like to have options!” You replied defensively. “I’ve noticed that, yes.” Dryly. “And you’ve never complained about it.” “Indeed, indeed. Your habit of bringing far too many weapons has worked out for us.” “That’s right.” You stared him down, then cracked a smile. A small one.
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Mar 10, 2016 00:53
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Current: 440,910 Uneasy Dreams “What are those worm things? They keep trying to … draw you in, or parasite you.” Train-sized tubes of hunger, roiling in their uncounted thousands. Hera looked at the screen. “Physical concepts given form. Smaller ones. Inevitability, surrender, the end of struggle. Complacency and recrimination.” “Are they … peircing the hull? What are we dealing with?” “In a manner of speaking. They are … taunting me. As they succeed, they will break through in the more … physical way.” “So … they are saying what a bad person you are?” You blinked. “A failure, yes.” “Ah.” You considered her words. “As they succeed?” “Yes. They will, eventually.” “Um. How much time do we have?” “What does time mean in a place like this?” You paused. “Ah.” “So if you could hurry up and win, that would be … helpful.” Her tone was briefly strained. “They are … not nice things.” “I imagine so.” You looked at her face. “Well, maybe not. Can you move?” “Yes.” On the screen, the vast pillars - the size of mountain ranges - rumbled forward, bringing the Beast forward. The hull you were familiar with had grown, mutated - gleamed with golden eyes, and far too many of them. You wonder what that said about Hera, or her self-image. “Is it difficult to move?” “It’s more difficult not to. The moment you settle, the more you want to settle.” She chuckled humorlessly. “Just have to outrun the bad thoughts.” “I see. How is that going?” “Like sprinting through streets of treacle built on a planet of spun sugar.” “Sounds … oddly delicious?”
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Mar 10, 2016 01:04
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Order the crew to express any genuine, nice things they have to say about the ship/Hera. Ask Hera if she has lost weight, and let her know that we like what she has done with her hair. Let her know she's won the ship's lottery for a free week at the spa! [Insert thing stereotypically enjoyed by women here.]
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Mar 10, 2016 01:12
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paragon1 posted:Order the crew to express any genuine, nice things they have to say about the ship/Hera. This. We need to all be on Team Happy Thoughts right now.
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Mar 10, 2016 01:14
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Okay, doubling down on plan Give Hera a hug and a thanks. Being attacked by the living embodiments of depression at our request is a pretty big burden.
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Mar 10, 2016 01:25
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Hexenritter posted:This. We need to all be on Team Happy Thoughts right now. WELCOME, MY DUDES
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Mar 10, 2016 01:28
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Wasn't Hera an artist? Tell her how nice the hull looks, what an inventive use of the Golden ratio.
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Mar 10, 2016 01:33
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