Alternate Rank: Moiran-Bound

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     The Moiran-Bound is, in short, a dedicated soldier who never questions orders - even when his life is clearly on the line. Graced by the Emperor's luck, his own iron will and unflinching resolve to complete his missions, such warriors are eagerly sought by the Inquisition to serve in their retinues.

Dark Heresy Home Worlds: War-Wastes

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    Originally drafted by Vulkan539 on Dark Reign, the concept of the war-waster draws heavily from the post-apocalyptic tones of many fictional settings - desperate survivors waging wars for sheer survival. The key difference between a war waste and say, a war world or death world is simple; the collapsed infrastructure still present on the world, the dying ecology and the determination of mankind to cling on against the odds. Add in some mutants and your choice of doomsday event between the big three of Nuclear, Chemical, or Biological disaster and presto - you have yourself a War-Waster.

The Library

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    One of the most wonderful things about the Warhammer 40,000 setting is it's flexibility and scope of acceptability. Set so distantly in the future with huge swathes of human history missing, intentionally censored or redacted, and dissident human colonies spread across the stars, it makes for a great place place to interject concepts, ideas, and even whole settings whole sale from other media. In this case, I've taken a setting from the popular BBC show, Doctor Who, and spun it as an ancient human artifact lost to the ravages of time. Anyone familiar with the episode, 'Silence in the Library' will know exactly what to expect. For those who don't, I kindly invite you to take a look!

Adversaries of the Aelys Sector: The Doll-Maker of Byzantium Octaris

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    Planets, sectors, sub-sectors, and more go into fleshing out an entire sector. Another important and fun part of the creation process involves creating enigmas, villains, and adversaries for players to face - or if not, to mention and build upon the solitary and intertwined histories. The first adversary to be created for the Aelys Sector is affectionately known as the 'The Doll-Maker', a local menace to the world of Byzantium Octaris. With dark intentions that few can hazard a guess, he has earned attention from the Inquisition when he stole the soul of the governor's daughter. There is no doubt there are countless other victims, and more will come in time if left unchecked indefinitely.

Creating a Sector: The World of Curicosa

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    Curicosa, once a moderately civilized world fallen to barely above feudal status, harbors many dark secrets beneath the vein of Imperial trappings. Outside the gates of Halon degenerate tribes eek out their existence against the cold and temperamental weather of the world while the Occoviria of the City-State plot their inevitable destruction. Local auguries have predicted the two great leaders of the opposed peoples will meet, and in that meeting, decide the fate of their world when the 'hammer strikes'.
    This planetary settings evokes the classical civilized versus savage diaspora. Gamemasters can tailor the factions as they see fit - Carydas Bellum could be the corrupter, bastardizing the Imperial Creed into something dark and venomous, or she could be the exemplar of the lights return. Ahina the Beast Queen, likewise, can be used as the noble-savage, leading her people only in retaliation and protection of their families. Or perhaps it she who has been claimed by the wisps of the warp, promising ever greater and glorious battles.

Transfiguration of an Acolyte

                The dream was vivid, visceral, and impacted Six-Jay with an incredible sense of loss. The visions of Synford faded - his team mates victorious and the spoiling of the arch-heretek's ambitions tasting sweet upon his lips. Then it was nothing, nothing but eternal black threatening to swallow him whole.
                Flickering images. Faces he could hardly recall coming to life. Then the light began to fill his mind again, welcoming a new memory.
                 He tossed, he turned... Where was he? Why was this happening? For a moment he remembered the pain, the current mission and the current time. Then that knowledge of the present was fading, left behind and forgotten. He was falling into the moment, falling into the past.
                 "News of the massacre spread quickly," Grey's said. " As you would expect, the result was chaos. Thousands are fleeing for their lives, fearing they are on the brink of civil war.. Others see an opportunity to strike at rival weakened by the sudden loss of political allies, and armed platoons are roaming the streets."
                Six-Jay was standing now beside his ally - the others, he knew not their fate. They were in a remote location. He could not recall it's name. He could only recall the direty of his presence there and that something far more greater, far more sinister was ahead. Something that ate at his conscious thoughts with warning; the truth! Do not seek it! Turn back now and ignore this fable!
                 Six-jay was in his armor, it was comforting, the high of his victory still brought pride to his heart but he struggled with a doubt that gnawed at the back of his mind like some sickness... What was this feeling? This sensation of unease. Slowly he shook his head as though trying to banish the feeling with physical motion while at the same time remaining as motionless as possible. He was not in the presence of his fellow soldiers... His master was here and others he knew only by name and not by appearance.
                "Pilgrim's Pause," Pious said  at last. "An event I fear shall be retained in the annuals of history, forever stained by this..."
                He had bowed his head in prayer. He looked to Solomon and Grey, his shield and sword. "Countless lives of the Emperor's servants have been lost this day. Many more shall come. We must remain steadfast and resolute in our charge. Prepare yourselves."
                Six-jay heard the name of colony echo in his mind, it made him shiver though he knew not why. What had happened there? What did he know? Ah... Yes. The briefing... The Plague. He turned to glance to his master nodding his head slowly before mouthing a breif prayer to the Emperor for the souls on that forsaken planet. Some would not find their way to his side, but others would and he wished them luck on their journey, plague was no way for a servant of the Emperor to go... Especially not a plague like this.
                "Yes my Lord." He stated simply making the sign of the Aquila and turning to the man. "What are your orders, my Inquisitor?"
                "Follow me." Pious said. "Stand ready."
                His Inquisitor would know that he was always ready, he had always stood beside Pious. When his master Marched forward he followed, strong and proud watchful for the safety of the man to whom he owed all.
                They walked in the citadel, it's looming imperial arches comforting. Ahead of them stood two. A woman and a man. As they neared and the dim lights gave way to brightness, he recognized the one ahead - it was none other than Menk, the arch-nemesis. The man they had fought over countless worlds to reach only to be time and time again denied retribution.
                The memory of Ada pained him still. Pious shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps he recalled the last time they met under these circumstances.
                Six-jay shifted slightly as they moved, his positioning noticeably becoming agitated though he fought to keep the snarl of incoherent rage from his features and won that battle valiantly, he could not stop his fingers from clenching into fists as he gazed at the Enemy before him. It pained him to see that creature and not attack, it hurt him to remember Ada, lost to the light of the Emperor and it burned away the high of his victory over the baneblade on that city far away, it honed his psyche into an edge of pure hatred for that man. He stayed carefully and studiously in step with his master poised and ready to leap in front of him to intercept a blow or to charge ahead and attack though such an order he knew would never come.
                He did not speak, it was not his place and even if it had been only a flow of the Litany of hate would pour forth in the presence of that foul betrayer who still wore the flesh of men.
"Journey's end, brother," Menk said behind his mask.
                Pious took pause before responding. Solomon assumed he was controlling his anger before speaking - but why? "Journey's end, Brother," He responded at last with a hard swallow.
                Six-jay glanced sidelong at his master, his attention torn between the Enemy and his master. Why were they here, what did they mean? It did not matter, he trusted Pious and his wisdom. That they were here simply meant that they could not yet act against Menk. That was it. Wasn't it?
                "It has long been the dream to see the Omni Rescriptus realized. We have made great leaps and today the culmination has far exceeded our estimates," Menk continued. "The faith virus has been realized. There is no doubt left in my mind. What marvelous results."
                "It only cost the lives of twenty billion," Pious responded.
                "A bargain to realize the Emperor's Ascension," Menk seemed to agree in positivity. Solomon was at unease by how...comfortable the arch-nemesis was. Not even concerned for his safety. Perhaps...it was another holo-clone.
                Six-Jay: Six-jay shifted slightly on his feet, the first noticeable sign of discomfort that had appeared beyond his clenching fists since he had laid eyes on the Arch Enemy here in this holy chapel. The mention of the lost lives did not concern him, billions died in the service of the Emperor every day, but what was this faith virus? Certainly they could not mean Pilgrims pause, it seemed not to him like anything to do with faith... Much more similar perhaps to the Curse of Unbelief that had fallen upon the Imperium all those centuries ago. His gaze moved from Menk to his master, as if hoping for some sign.
                "The Inquisition would never let those souls go un-avenged. This world will be accounted for," Pious responded. The words brought Solomon to approval.
                "Indeed. One must fall, to take prying eyes away from the truth," Menk said the last words regretfully. "It must be so until all the pieces are completed. Now that we have our proof the virus works, we can begin phase two."
                Pious drew to a dread silence. Only Grey's sudden, panicked exclamation broke the silence. The two guardians that neared him had snatched him in the droll of the moment. Held aloft by his arms, the armored sentinels restrained him and brought him to his knees.
                "Restrain yourself, Solomon," Pious then commanded suddenly. "Do not fight this moment."
                Six-jay glanced first to Gray, his hand moving for his weapon before his masters words cut through the moment, he glanced to Pious, confused with his hand half to his weapon and his body turned towards the Sentinel that had grabbed his squad-member. "My-..." He paused glancing towards Menk, instantly wondering if the enemy was using some form of sorcery to manipulate Pious... But then he turned his gaze back to his lord, met his eyes and knew... His hand fell from his weapon and he stood still at a mountain... "Yes. My. Lord." He spoke through gritted teeth.
                Pious smiled then. It was sad, but triumphant. "Is this not proof enough lord Arcturus?" It was the sound of the boots that came behind Solomon that alerted him first seconds before the voice responded.
                "It is not. He does not yet understand. Test him."
                Six-jay glanced sharply towards the voice, his hand away from his weapon but clearly from his expression he wished the comfortable feel of his side-arm was filling his hand. He had left his primary equipment behind, but he wished now that things were simple again... That he could destroy Menk with his blessed Stubber... That he was back in simpler times with his master, he and Ada fighting along beside him, destroying the enemies of man... He wished he was anywhere but here, in his chapel filled with a slowly unfolding realization of wrongness.
                Pious' voice cut through Solomon's despair. It brought only strife. "Solomon. Execute Grey," He commanded.
                "What!?" Grey shouted. "Solomon! Help me!"
                If his master had plunged a dagger into his chest he would not of been caught more off guard... He tore his gaze from the new man and back to his Inquisitor a look of shocked disbelief on his features. "Wha-?!" He began taking a step away from Pious for a moment before his training reaffirmed itself and he glanced to the other men and women surrounding him. "My..." He fought to keep his voice level and reasonable. "My lord... He is a hero, he helped me Destroy the Baneblade on Synford... He is a good servant of the Emperor..." He glanced back to Grey, though his words were confused, pleading for the life of his comrade his body was a superb instrument. Even as he spoke he drew the hell-pistol from its holster and walked slowly towards his comrade held in bondage by the Sentinel.
                "My lord... What is his crime?" He spoke softly, glancing towards Pious with a look of pleading uncertainty. He had killed hundreds of men at his masters request, he had left hundreds to die to better serve the Imperium, but this... What was this? Surely there was something he did not know... Something he did not understand... What did his master know? Was Grey a servant of Menk? A spy? He swallowed and turned his eyes on his comrade, his loyal soldier. "A..." He cleared his throat and when he spoke again his voice was strong but sorrowful. "He should hear his crime before sentence is carried out."
                Pious closed his eyes. He seemed reluctant, deflated. Then at last he turned and reached for Solomon's pistol. He took it firmly and placed it in Solomon's hand with force. "I have given you a command. Do not falter now, my most faithful of acolytes. Execute Grey." He repeated the order with dread necessity driving his voice.
                Eram Arcturus watched them as Grey pleaded with his eyes. His confusion was no less than Solomon's. They had fought on countless wars since Synford and the baneblade. They had grown close, and had cried together when blue and red were butchered on Farrow's moon.
                "Solomon! He is in league with Menk! It's a trap!" He screamed before the sentinel's hit him hard, sending him back to the ground in compliance. "Silent!" The guard snapped.
                The apprehension in the room was high.
                Six-jay took a deep and drawing breath... Tears fought to find purchase in his eyes but none would flow. He would not let them. He had lost Ada... He had lost Red and Blue... His inquisitor was the truth. His word was the word of the Emperor and that was the end of it. As Menk patted the gun held firmly in his hand he nodded once and turned his eyes upon Gray. When the Sentinel struck him he let out a feral growl and fixed the servant with a glare that would blanche a demon. "Touch him not! He is worth a hundred of you!" Despite his words he brought his weapon up and placed the barrel against his dear comrades forehead. He stared straight into the other mans eyes, his green gaze heavy with regret but laden with purpose. "I will pray for you Grey... May the others forgive me." He pulled the trigger the instant that he finished speaking, the searing sound of discharge followed by a bright flash and a cauterized hole in the center of his companions forehead accompanied by a shower of gore as the overcharged bolt blew out the back of his skull... He stood for a moment, the weapon smoking... "Mea Culpa." He said those words softly before turning to face his master, his weapon half firmly at his side. "Your orders my lord."
                "Does this please you, my lord?" Pious asked.
                Eram regarded him coolly. "No, it does not. He hesitated. There is still some shiver of doubt."
                Pious seemed angry then. "But his faith is unparalleled! I have seen to the hells and trials he faced. Never wavering! He just shot his best friend in cold blood! What other proof do you need that the virus works!?"
                "I cannot progress our plans on a partial success. His hesitation is a failure. Dispose of him. We shall try again with his and Ada's child," Eram responded. "Do not feel discouraged. The key to unlocking the virus' true potential rests in his bloodline, if not in him."
                Solomon's confusion then resulted in a sudden and unanticipated moment of sympathy from Arturus. "How unfortunate. He did not know, did he?"
                With those words said Eram turned and began to walk away. Pious had reached for his sword in that time and had turned to Solomon. "Take a knee. Let's make this...honorable."
                Six-jay turned his eyes on his master then on the others in the room. He did not fear death... But the mans pronouncement filled him with something, some strange sense of mad hatred. "My... Child?" He spoke softly confusion plain on his face. "Ada...?" He glanced back to his lord. "My lord... I haven't found her... I haven't killed that demon..." He tilted his head a pain in his temple... He was pressing his hellpistol to the side of his own head. "My lord if you wish me dead you don't need to do it yourself... Your word is my wish." He glanced over Pious' shoulder towards Menk and the Woman. "But our enemy is there..." His finger tightened on the trigger. "There are so many commands you have given my lord that I have not yet fulfilled..." Truly his own death meant nothing to him... It would be a relief from the pain.
                 "You have fulfilled admirably, and you were as a son to me as I could ever hope for," Pious responded. "I shall part with you comforting words, my faithful servant. We named her...Fatima," He said. "Kneel, my son, and I shall release you to peace and slumber beneath the Emperor's protection."
                Solomon did not resist, falling to his knees. Pious rose his sword up and breathed in, but the blow never struck home.
                The exploding bolt shell ripped Pious' arm off. The second and third sent him down as a bloody heap upon the floor.  Solomon looked wildly about before he saw the woman and Menk had been the offenders. A sudden burst of gunfire ripped the room apart and in mere moments all were dead save Menk and the woman.
                "This corruption goes further than we thought, Vartis," She said. "Much further than we thought," Her eyes and bolt pistol aimed at Six-Jay.
                "You must shoot me mistress," Menk responded. "If I am not wounded, I cannot continue with the deception."
                "Indeed. But first, let us see if we cannot repurpose this acolyte. The damage they have done to him is unforgiveable."
                Six-jay did not move as the gunfire tore through the crowd, he did not shift as his master's arm was blown away and he fell. His gun fell from unfeeling fingers and he stared at his masters crumpled form... "My... My lord..." He spoke hoarsely the tears finally flowing. "Fatima." He repeated the name softly to himself as he finally tore his gaze upwards to see his savior, the woman and Menk... Part of him wanted to pick up his masters sword and slay Menk, part of him wanted to end his own life... Part of him just wanted to stay kneeling on the floor waiting for a blow that would never come. "I am the scourge." he rose to his feet his weapon left behind, his eyes on the others. "I am the Emperors scourge."
                "No, Acolyte," The words came from the woman's lips. "You are a puppet. But you shall be. You shall truly do his work now. But in order to cleanse you of your master's impurity, we must now erase all that you are."
                Solomon suddenly felt a crack against his skull, sending him back to the ground. He was barely coherent but he plucked one statement before he collapsed into sleep.
                "I am Jenna Orechiel of the Holy Ordos, and I am your new master. When you awake, you will remember only that."

==APPENDED==

Solomon Praetus has been found innocent in the heresies of his former master, after exhaustive inquiry it has been determined that his soul is pure of of taint by the grace of Him on Earth and his allegiance to the Golden Throne is undaunted. In recognition of his exemplary service he has been given the distinction of choosing summary execution or mind wipe.

Imperius Domitus