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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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Prepare yourself for a tale of hereditary eunuchs, a living Warrant, betrayals multifarious, xenos perfidious, prose ultraviolet, and posts intermittent!

[[In the dying centuries of the 41st millennium, the Yilmaz dynasty began a great migration from the bedevilled Askellon Sector to the promised riches of the Koronus Expanse. On the edge of the Rubicon subsector, the fleet was attacked by a...]]

[[Much reduced, the convoy, now under the command of Lord Captain Dilara Yilmaz, reached the Calixis Sector in 503.M41. A diversion into the Andratis Nebula proved disastrous, and the Lord Captain fled the “unspeakable, soul-stealing horrors” she found there with the Inquisition in close, though not adversarial, pursuit. Though the masters of the Ordos Xenos were eventually satisfied, the cost in blood and treasure was...]]

[[Attempts to consolidate a mercantile empire around the world of Sinophia were thwarted when [REDACTED] began his bloody crusade of revenge in 703.M41. Not content with burning his own dynasty, [REDACTED] inflicted grievous losses on any vaguely allied houses. The Yilmaz Dynasty, still political newcomers to the Sector, were caught in the crossfire of a covert Trader War...]]

[[Erjon Yilmaz never explained his decision, at the age of sixteen, to commission a bespoke cruiser from the yards Synford. It was his first action as Rogue Trader. For over a century, through wars, feuds, and betrayals, the mighty form of a truly unique cruiser was slowly assembled. The cost was, of course, ruinous.]]
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My name is Gilbert Tamimar ab-Yilmaz, but none know it. In my youth, a wandering priest told me names have power over men, and to hide mine away, and for two hundred years I have followed his advice. You, my successor, may think this a quaint superstition. So be it. If you have opened this scroll then I am dead, and what you think of me hardly matters. I am at the Emperor’s side, if He will have me.

But enough morbid musing! There is work to do! This, then, is the secret history of the Yilmaz dynasty. You can learn of our glorious battles from the official records. You can learn of our ignominious defeats from the records of our enemies and rivals, if you have the wit to pilfer them, or from the cost-counting of the seneschals and coin-men. I have no time and no patience to scribe a roll of glorious and much-inflated deeds.

These records concern the people of our great dynasty. I have tried to capture them as they were, as the events happened. In all their faults, and all their details, I hope to bring them to life before you.

They knew me as Johann, Court Remembrancer, sworn to serve the Warrant and not the Rogue Trader. And I knew them all.
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Lord Captain Erjon Yilmaz died in the Death Room, aged one hundred and ninety six, subjective. His death had stalked him for a year, and in his last hours had crept inside his weary bones and slowly drained the life from every cell. Machines and the arts of the Magi Biologi provided no comfort, in the end.

When his death had been confirmed, and the machines safely quieted, I began the work for which I had prepared my entire life.

Tansel, one of Erjon’s legitimized daughters, was the first eligible heir to arrive at the Death Room. She had a strong, oval-shaped face with a sturdy jaw and full lips – not beautiful, exactly, but commanding. From her father she inherited arched eyebrows, a cold-fire temper, and, of course, a dynasty that can trace its history to the founding of the Imperium.

The work proceeded quickly. With the assistance of the white-robed priests of Mars, I carefully cut the signature section from Erjon’s back. Mute tattooists clustered around Tansel, their long needles flicking in and out of the sacred ink. She made no sound, which was promising to me; the process is, from what I understand, agonizing.
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As news of Erjon’s death spread, more of the high officers of the dynasty made their way to the Death room, to pay quiet respects, and then to witness the transfer of the Warrant. Oh, it was a beautiful scene, in a way, like an oil painting by some long-forgotten master. The tattooists had gathered every candle in the room around Tansel, leaving the corners in deep shadow and haloing her in a smoky glow. And around her bare shoulders we clustered, peering, examining every word and every line, while her loyal officers guarded the room. Between the death of the previous Rogue Trader and the ascension of the next, the Dynasty is, by the interpretation of some, without the protection of the Warrant, and prey to any Imperial servant.

Down, down, down her right arm, they marked a long line of black text, to the fourth finger, where the tech-priests had screwed the signet ring to the bone, never to be removed. Lines after line on her back, two columns of text on either side of her spine, each mark exactly in its place. Below, just above her tailbone, we grafted the signatures of the High Lords. And then, Tansel Yilmaz became both the Rogue Trader and the Warrant.

A living Warrant! Across the whole of the Imperium, we alone have such a distinction! Tansel Yilmaz became both a peer of the Imperium and a living legal document. Every word she spoke would be canon law. Every action, precedent!

You understand, my heir. We are loyal to the Warrant first, and its mortal carrier second. If they fall in battle, if they die in their beds, if they burn on the pyre... we stand ready, to save their skin, to preserve the dynasty. Not for nothing do you carry a silver monoscalpel on your hip!
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So that was Tansel, then, at the beginning of her reign. But in my mind’s eye, behind her, I see the stern figure of Ludovicia D’Merlo, factor to Navigator House Harmond. Though not among their twisted breed, Ludovicia was priviledged to act in their interests and speak in their place. She had been tithed to them as a child to be raised as an incorruptible servant, but she rose through her own ambition and skill. With her bronzed skin, sharp, uncompromising face, and air of perfect stillness she seemed more like a Sororitas Cannoness than a factor. Under her star-blue robes she was armed and armoured and tense like an assassin. What age had taken from her, experience had returned ten times over, both in politics and in other matters. She had stayed well clear of the factionalism and intrigue that had grown during Erjon’s long illness, but was now placed at the Rogue Trader’s side.

Moments after the tattooists finished their ritual labour, the first challenge to Tansel’s reign strode through the door of the Death Room. Abdurrahman Yilmaz, half-brother to Tansel, ambitious beyond measure and confident beyond reason, stood in the doorway and surveyed the room.

As there are few living who remember Abdurrahman well, and fewer still who will speak of him, I will devote some space here to describe him as he appeared that day, though previous scrolls will have shown you his nature. He was tall, thin, and slightly roguish. His fine clothes were worn with an air of deliberate carelessness. Each year he had grown more to look like his father, even as Erjon faded. His beard and moustaches were pointed and beaded. Beneath his long and knife-sharp eyebrows his one natural eye scoured the room.
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Nobody likes storytime?
I do

You will recall that his other eye was a crystal orb, milky white and slightly luminescent. Three years prior, he had plucked it from the ruins of a forbidden xenos world in the Winterscale subsector, to replace the natural orb shredded by the guardians of that fell place. I will not commit that tale to parchment again – even the thought of those dark hours shakes me to my bones. Be that as it may, many officers had assumed Abdurrahman would be the next heir to the Warrant, but when Erjon passed, he was nowhere to be found.

“So!” he cried, his palms open at his side. “The old man is dead.”

“And I am his heir,” Tansel said, her voice steady.

“Are ye now? There seems to be some disagreement.”

Tansel paused, her eyes flickering side to side, checking the carefully neutral faces of the assembled officers. “Indeed? I see no one here who disagrees.”

“I disagree.” The smile vanished from Abdurrahman’s face. “Gerard, shoot her.”
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We come to the third vital character in our drama. Gerard Laurent, Master Militant, was an outsider to the dynasty, and one of Abdurrahman’s closest allies. He was a spare man, with a long, stubble-clad face and bright blue eyes. Unless circumstances made it impossible, he was always smoking foul, mass-produced lho-sticks. They smelled like cabbage soaked in creosote and stained his fingers and his teeth. I may well recount a bit of his past here, so you might understand his actions.

Gearard was an Akrian, and a guardsman, raised in the Akrian 47th Siege Regiment. Urban combat, siegebreaking, and demolitions were his trade, and he was, by all accounts, a master. He made it all the way to Colonel before his family’s politics frothed over. Returning from a suicide mission on Obscurity, Gerard was court-martialed for impersonating an officer – his name was on the rolls of the honoured dead – and sentenced to death by the Commissariat. Abdurrahman pulled him and a select platoon out of lockup and gave him command of the dynasty’s Janissaries. He thought Gerard was a simple soldier.

He wasn’t wrong, exactly, but he failed to take into account Gerard’s loathing of factional politics, and his sense of duty. Lex est lex, as they say in the Arbites.

Gerard paused, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and swung his solo boltgun around. The moment its long barrel was pointed at Abdurrahman’s chest, he fired.

Abdurrahman’s eye turned from milky white to a hideous, contaminated blue-grey. With preternatural speed, he slapped the barrel side with the hilt of his sword, drawing it further to press it against Gerard’s throat. A half second later, the bolt round detonated, showering both men in sawdust and flakes of veneer.
I'm here OP, reading and enjoying.
“Well,” Factor Ludovicia D’Merlo drawled after a minute’s pause, “this has been fun. But the Captain has business to attend to, so if you wouldn’t mind...” She waved at them with carefully manicured hand.

With a flourish, Abdurrahman sheathed his sword and left the room. His crystal eye still glowed in its socket, leaving a unnatural afterimage in the eyes of the assembled worthies. Some formed the sign of the Aquila as he stalked away.

Tansel’s face was still a stone mask. “Important officers, to the grand strategium, by the fourth bell. Go now,” she said.

I attempted to stay, but she would only confer with Ludovicia in private. What their conversation was, I could not say, but I suspect it concerned a cypher or message Erjon left in his final moments. I waited outside, ever vigilant.

And all the while, Erjon Yilmaz lay dead in the room he had designed for this very day. The whirring, pulsing machines that had kept him alive for two long years lay dormant at last. Barely visible in the shadows, his grey, thin face and silver beard held none of the fury they’d possessed in life. Only his closed eyes, thin and deep-set, carried a hint that this corpse had once been a Rogue Trader, and not some kindly Adept or learned recaf-merchant. Would he have approved of his heir?
We regrouped in the strategium. The mourning procedures had taken hold of the ship; black banners hung from the pillars, the jofer were being groomed for their release, and the wails of despair from the harem could be heard all along the ship’s spine.

The grand strategium had three tiers of seats, surrounding a hololithic table imported from the Lathe worlds. It showed a dim green map of the Unbeholden Reaches, the few catalogued worlds amended with labels and runes. By its light the officers of the Yilmaz dynasty had gathered to officially meet and receive their orders from the new Rogue Trader.

Bold as brass, Abdurrahman Yilmaz had seated himself in the front row.

When the Lord Captain entered and saw him, she didn’t blink. Though Gerard readied his boltgun and Ludovicia arched an eyebrow, Tansel simply continued as though she hadn’t seen her ambitious half-brother.

“You have all heard of my father’s tragic death,” she said, “but there will be time for grand speeches and mourning later. For now, we must attend to the business of the dynasty.” She turned slowly to face Abdurrahman, though she did not look directly at him.

“All those who wish to offer their loyalty and service to me, kneel now.” Most of us obeyed instantly. Ludovicia, as a retainer of the House Harmond, merely bowed slightly, and the Tech-Adepts didn’t move an inch – their loyalties were beyond question.

Abdurrahman knelt, his face in a wry grin. The moment his knees touched the floor Tansel drew her power sword, activated it, and slashed it across his face. His eye once again flashed blue-grey, but he could not rise in time. Though the blade did not scar him deeply, the crackling power field burned his flesh and instantly cauterized the wound.

“You ordered my death,” Tansel said, holding her sword steady. “You attempted to usurp me, and then you come into my council and act as though it was a passing fancy. Why?”
Smiling without a hint of humour, Abdurrahman said, “My sister, I have no idea what you are talking about. I have always been a loyal servant of the dynasty, and I have come here as your Provender General to hear your orders.” He ground his teeth through the pain.

“You are a traitor and a fiend. Get him off my ship.” As Tansel turned away, Abdurrahman rose suddenly and drew his own power sword.

“But I’ll not die on my knees like some coward. Draw!” He slashed the sword down, clearly signalling the start of a duel.

There was space in the centre of the strategium for a swordfight, but not much. A few careless swings could cut a bystander to ribbons. Nevertheless, the two siblings fell at each other like furies. Both were skilled duellists, and equally motivated. I of course could not intervene – no matter who won, the Warrant and the Dynasty would endure.

Before either combatant could land a solid hit, the room echoed with the unmistakable crunch of a bolt shell being fired. Abdurrahman coughed, and looked down at his chest. There was a smoking hole under his armpit. A half second later, the shell detonated, and liquefied his body from the neck to the hips. He collapsed to the floor.

From the second row, Ziel Gillam, ship’s helmsman, blew some smoke from the end of his boltgun and nodded to the Lord Captain. She returned the nod.

Zeil rarely spoke of his past, but I knew he was a naval man, possibly in disgrace, raised up to his new rank by Samira Yilmaz, another dissolute potential heir. He was a burly, strong-jawed man with dark eyes and slightly protruding teeth. Naval tattoos and old scars dotted his arms. Ziel is the fourth character in this drama. Do not let his current position deceive you.

“My thanks. You are Ziel, is that correct? I shall need to find some higher station for you.” Ziel bowed his head and stowed his boltgun. Tansel still hadn’t raised her voice.
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This is some cool shit m8
I've always found it hard to capture the aesthetic of rogue trader but you've hit it spot on
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“Gerard, have your armsmen bring the body to the medicae deck for examination. Take care it arrives there untouched. The rest of you, report. How fares the dynasty?”

When no one spoke, Duran van Kiel, Master of Records, coughed and stood. “My lord, I regret to report that we are, on the whole, stone broke.”

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You see, Erjon had spent every throne he could find or borrow on the Reach of the Caliph. While the final product was magnificent, it was also widely seen as the death-knell of the dynasty. From a fleet to a squadron, from a squadron to one untested, unique cruiser... the Yilmaz dynasty was slowly sliding into obscurity and penury.

For now, Duran explained, the dynasty could meet its obligations, but any disasters or great expenditures would surely mean ruin. Revenue was low - a few half-hearted trade routes in Calixis and Scarus, a few industrial estates on Malfi, and residual tithes from hereditary indentured servants. The great treasure-holds of the Reach of the Caliph were empty. Worse, Erjon had found the Koronus Sector less than profitable.

You see, in those days, the Koronus Sector was newly incorporated into the Imperial fold. By the time the Reach of the Caliph sailed across the Maw, the wilds of space had been divided up by Rogue Traders whose names are legends: Olivares, Chorda, Sargon, Saul, Winterscale, and most notoriously of all, Lethe. They carved up the what was once wild frontier space, brought law and the Adeptus, burned xenos empires and pirate fleets, and scraped up every scrap of profit for themselves.

Those who could not ally with the great houses or find a niche of their own were driven to the edge of known spapce, pinned between the Rifts of Hecaton and the vigilant subsectors close to the Maw. That is where the Reach of the Caliph lay now, orbiting the dead world of Melbethe.
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Other words were spoken by those assembled, and a few plans laid, but in truth none knew how to proceed, least of all the Captain. Erjon had never kept wide council. Why he came to Melbethe, a world of obsidian spires and conduits, a world cursed by whatever xenos race carved it, a world with no treasures and no population... well, who could say?

Perhaps Abdurrahman knew. In Erjon’s last months, the two had grown very close. But scouring Erjon’s quarters yielded nothing of direct importance, aside from a few forbidden books and trinkets. He’d left no journal, though Tansel did find a very curious map stored in a hidden compartment.

I know not how, but by this map, and perhaps a few other secrets whispered to her by Ludovicia, were enough to find a heading and a purpose. The Lord Captain suddenly announced that we were bound for Cinderhall.
I'm here slowly reading this. Don't go oway.
The two weeks we spent in the Warp were relatively uneventful. The crew ceremonially hunted down the jofer with hammers, the priests chanted, and the Lord Captain Yilmaz retired to the harem.

I suspect you, my successor, have not been to the harem, or if you have you will never tell of it. It is a small town, purpose-built from cream-coloured stone to house the thousand wives of the dynasty’s heir. Erjon hired the finest architects to construct it, incorporating relics from the ancient days of his line as well as the most modern and useful accessories.

The Lord Captain Yilmaz, when she ascended to the Warrant, became legally married to every man, woman, four-legged animal, and item of furniture in the harem. The concubines aren’t coerced, any more than the ratings at least. They happily take lovers amongst themselves, and their numbers are increased when a Rogue Trader acquires new beauties or lovers from far-flung worlds. For ten thousand years, the Harem of the Yilmaz has endured, though most think it a myth. And yet each Lord Captain can attend a social function with an entire battalion of the most beautiful men and women in the Imperium, suited to any taste and fashion!

And so Tansel went to the harem, and emerged three days later without her trousers, but with a truly enormous grin. Her trousers were eventually retrieved by Beshir, the Chief Eunuch, but by that point we were almost at our destination.
Cinderhall is a murdered world. In the dim prehistory of the Imperium, a colony of unenlightened humans grew here, flourished, built halls and cities, and spread across the surface of their world. It is said that some xenos race came from the Rifts and burned the world with a terrible unnatural flame. In a single night, the atmosphere of Cinderhall flashed away, and its inhabitants were reduced to carbonized statues. They are still visible, in their soot-blanketed halls, frozen in uncanny action, most cowering or fleeing their ancient doom.

But we never landed on Cinderhall. We dropped out of the Empyrian and into a battle.

A light cruiser and two frigates were engaged and pursuing two raiders. The first squadron was easily identified –the Nihontu, commanded by the Lee dynasty. The two raiders appeared to be nothing more than pirates being driven away by the Lady Captian Sun Lee.

The Lady Captain, the second of her name, had succeeded her grandmother to the Lee Warrant, and certainly exhibited the same streak of tyranny, cunning, and obstinacy.

The object we aimed for, and for which Sun Lee was squabbling, was a warp-stained hulk of debris the size of a transport. It was the midsection of some cruiser, torn and contaminated by untold aeons in the warp. With a cry of “Forward! Flank speed!” we plunged forward, Ziel at the helm.
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I cannot recall who fired first, but soon we were exchanging broadsides and taunts with the Lady Captain Sun Lee. Her frigates abandoned the pursuit of the pirates to turn on us, but they were unable to close in time. We took several solid hits, but Gerard ordered the macrocannon fire beautifully, and nearly shredded the Nihontu in a single volley!

The battle then moved from firepower to diplomacy. Lord Captain Yilmaz had no desire to shed Imperial blood, and allowed Sun Lee to expostulate a diplomatic solution. They would both board the hulk, both search it, and both seek out an item it seemed they both expected to be aboard. How they knew this is beyond me.

Lord Captain Yilmaz first sent over her armsmen to secure the hulk, and then proceeded over by cargo lander. I accompanied her, along with Gerard and a squad of armsmen. We little suspected the horrors that we would find aboard that hulk, nor that our actions there would influence the future of the dynasty, the sector, and possibly the whole of the Imperium!

-THE END (of part 1) -
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Thank you for saying so. I've had some practice (and good players) to help.

Well, I'll have to quit soon (to write more), but I've posted all I can.
Kind of good so far. Do return to us, when you have more, good remembrancer.

Will do!

In the meantime, you can read about the background to this game here: http://forum.rpg.net/showthread.php?489083-Rogue-Trader-Into-the-Maw-or-How-I-Became-Incredibly-Wealthy

The Lord Captain Olivares, though vain, self-serving, and not entirely sane, had a series of adventures that lead to the Koronus Sector we know today.

Or, you can see the preliminary and confused hints of the Lethe dynasty here: http://forum.rpg.net/showthread.php?642403-Rogue-Trader-Black-Crusade-The-Doyle-Memoir
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This will be good.

I hope so! Though I've written 3,000 words this evening - I need a break for a few hours.

Would anyone be interested in a complete atlas of the Koronus Sector, including both canon and interpolated worlds, corresponding to the map shown here? >>43154578
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Fuck it, posting anyways.

We begin with Winterscale's Realm:

Aubray’s Anvil – Hive World
Edge of the Abyss p.36

Once an abandoned forge world, complete with orbital shipyards, planetary laboratories, crystalline domed hives, vox beacons in a strange language and great big piles of bones. Discovered by Cort Saldus and his skilled Navigator. An orbital battle may taken place here with an unknown foe. By 921.M41, Aubray’s Anvil is slowly becoming a civilized hive world. The bones have been cleared and buried in great festering tombs. Above them, cities and forges spread to reclaim the world. The Inquisition works tirelessly to suppress knowledge of the world’s unhallowed past, without knowing exactly what the past contains.
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Redemption – Cemetery World
Edge of the Abyss p.36

A barely habitable small moon of a gas giant, Redemption is the cemetery world of a heretical Emperor-worshipping cult. City-sized ossuaries made of silver-veined marble seem to trap the reflected light of nearby warpstorms. Locked vaults kilometres deep hide great secrets, but the world is forbidden by the Ecclesiarchy and blockaded by Alessaunder Godwinne. Nevertheless, exhumators retrieve relics and bones from the deep vaults, and wealthy nobles conspire or hide beneath in the cathedral-cities.
Actually, I will be.
But it will take you a while to go through all of them.
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Gallant - Unclassified
Koronus Bestiary p. 9

A hollow world, kept intact by its distance from the nearest star and lack of gravitational tides. Gallant’s molten core was removed by unknown means long before mankind took to the stars. Over the years, various races and civilizations have carved mines and tunnels through the crust of Gallant. Broken wraithbone structures can be found a few kilometres from rusting Imperial garrisons and the domes and equipment of other, stranger races. Clawed Fiends, predatory beasts which feed on the local chemovores, infest the silent tunnels. Gallant is an ill-favoured world, too poor to support a large population and too far from warp routes to act as trade hub. There are a few shipyards inside the hollow world, and the Imperial Navy maintains a small fleet repair facility.

Seldon’s Repast – Agri World
Edge of the Abyss p. 36

Formerly known as Pastorus or Seldon’s Folly. This formerly industrialized and void-capable world was flung into a devastating war by Rogue Trader Marrus Seldon over his mistress and some bad diplomacy. The war continues between former Seldon house troops and the planetary forces. Both sides will trade for weapons, food, and any advantage. Eventually, the war burned out, under a Winterscale-enforced blockade. Neither side really won. When Winterscale’s house troops and the Imperial guard came to restore order, they were welcomed as liberators, or at least, as sources of technology, food, and stability. Winterscale built a strong agri-world on the corpses of the dead.
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Oh. I just realized it will be journey beyond Hecaton Rifts.
Kinda sad. I so wanted to have an adventure there myself, but oh well.
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But you can! The Winding Stair leads to a vast realm of unexplored space... and Tansel Yilmaz lacks the resources to map and conquer all of it.

Burnscour – Death World
Rogue Trader p.344
Koronus Bestiary p.29

Burnscour has a dangerously toxic atmosphere which, combined with rapid plant and animal growth, insanely dangerous life, no structures and some Beast House trade orbitals and trade-ships, make it a deadly world indeed. Notorious creatures include the Burnscour Lictor (possibly mythical), swarms of deadly flesh-eating bees, and the cunning Terrorax. Nobody who can help it goes to Burnscour.
enjoying the storytime, liking the idea of the living warrant, do you mind if i steal the schtick for the off0chance that i convince my group to play not-3.pf?
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The Marmor System - Hive World
Faith and Coin p.26

A former colony of the defunct Duur dynasty, the Marmor system was once notorious for its decadent nobility, lax attitudes towards slavery and corruptions of the soul, and other profitable vices. Eight inhabited bodies carry countless millions around a bright white star. Frequent raids from heretical pirates tax the abilities of the system’s shipyards. The Marmor System is an independent fiefdom, which deals with Rogue Traders and the Imperium on its own terms. While it answers to the lords of Winterscale’s Realm, and pays its tithes to the Imperium of Man, the rulers of the Marmor system enjoy unchallenged power within the system, and bite their thumbs at the Inquisition and the Navy, whenever they dare.
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No worries, go right ahead.

Valcetti’s Salvation - Unclassified
Rogue Trader p. 280

Valcetti’s Salvation is ironically named. Though the world did save the dynasty’s flagship from a lingering death, it also proved the undoing of Talanek Valcetti and his retainers. The water and plant life they took aboard was tainted. Though Valcetti’s Salvation is not a death world, almost every plant and animal that lives on that fog-shrouded world is toxic to human life. Even the microfauna that swarm in its stagnant lakes slowly rot the body and mind. Some say that the world also rots the soul, for strange pilgrims from the trailing edge of the Foundling Worlds, it is said, journey to the world to worship death and rot incarnate. Some of the herbivorous fauna are incredibly tough. The Beast House raids the world for certain types of slightly dangerous creatures. The world was purged in flames by the Inquisition, after smugglers brought its tainted soil, water, and life to the Calixis sector, and spread a cult of half-living worshippers across three systems.
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The Serpent’s Cradle – Unclassified

During a confrontation with a Yu’Vath fleet of unimaginable size this system was destroyed by Lord Captain Olivares. The twin stars are collapsing into a festering warp anomaly and, in their death throes, annihilating all life in the system.

Felindrak Zwei – Mining World – Winterscale’s Realm
Faith and Coin p.34

A primitive mining world, nominally loyal to the Imperium at large, but firmly protected by the Winterscale dynasty. The Imperium’s ceaseless demand for resources has turned Felindrak Zwei into a polluted waste-world, populated with the descendants of the original miners and feudal tribes.
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Asandre – Frontier World
Faith and Coin p.35

Other than primitive vox technology and some Dark Age of Technology relics, Asandre has little to offer the Imperium at large. The Winterscale Dynasty has tithed several regiments from this world. Sporadic raids by the Dark Eldar have made the population of this world suspicious and sullen, prone to xenophobic riots and raising fortifications. Every generation, the tithe-ships arrive for the sullen men and women of Asandre, but take little else. They remember the legends their grandparents told of blade-helmed xenos raiders, but their warnings have become myths and fables.
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You hade me at "hereditary eunuchs."
And he was not heard from ever since.

I've got to sleep some time.

Agamemnon Quintus – War World
Faith and Coin p. 26

Another primitive, pre-industrial world shattered by the arrival of the Imperial Creed. The planet as a whole has some sort of vendetta against the Duur Dynasty for raiding their planet and providing more advanced weapons. As Lord Captain Hakine Duur was crucified on the prow of his vessel for trading in slaves in by the late Lord Captain Brandon Callywiff Olivares, they are unlikely to ever find their revenge. The Duur dynasty, and their base in the Marmor system, were absorbed by the Winterscale dynasty in late M41. Agamemnon Quintus is still a frontier world, slowly rising to a civilized standard, but with little aid from the wider Imperium.
Good lords, he's back. But I'll remind you, that you should have more story than planets' description.
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And I'll remind you to look to shut your arrogant mouth and look to >>43157196. I haven't finished the next chapter yet.

Solace Encarmine – Pleasure World

A temperate world consisting of chains of islands, reddish freshwater seas, and low sandbars. Crystal domes and gem-encrusted roccrete structures dot the planet, catering to the needs of any visitor. Four augmented rulers known as the Quoscient exercise loose control over the palaces and pleasure-domes of Solace Encarmine, but Winterscale controls the orbital docks. He also has hidden commercial interests buried in the brilliant blue ice caps of the planet.
Hey, but you're being an arrogant ass. You gotta deliver the story, not just describe already prewritten planets. (And still taking so long to do this by the way)
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Or... what, exactly?

This might not seem like much, but I did go through and locate every single canonical reference in all the Rogue Trader books, and filled in the gaps where they existed.

Arcus - Feudal World – Winterscale’s Realm
Faith and Coin p.40

Feuding city states with some variants of the Imperial Creed dominate this tropical world. Long term Administratum projections cast doubt as to the viability of Imperial exploitation of the world. Arcus has indeed required a long campaign of political infiltration, social engineering, and outright warfare to win, and even then, the victory is hardly complete.
Fine. I hope you won't just stop and leave without finishing story.
Go on, m8.
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Maleziel – Penal World
Into the Storm p. 14

A crashed penal ship forms the core of this colony. Rogue Traders and others expel undesirables or press crew from the lawless population. Some mining, minimal trade, and no prospects. Maleziel is now the premier prison world of the Koronus Sector, wih a few penal legions formed from its malodorous ranks.

Black Hole – Unclassified

Lord Captain Olivares fought and finally destroyed a powerful Rak’Gol Abomination in this otherwise remarkable system, casting it and the Yu’vath station it sought into the space-ripping depths of the void.
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The Egarian Dominion – Special
Edge of the Abyss p. 21

4 systems: Egarian Alpha (one habitable world), Gamma, Epsilon, and Omega. Each system has several dry, cool, desert worlds with maze-cities and crystal outcrops.

The only known maze-city on Egarian Omega was destroyed by orbital bombardment by Lord Captain Olivares. The planet is lightly irradiated. Rak-Gol warships are known to prowl the system occasionally. The Egarian Dominion is a source of many forbidden xenotech relics, a den of radial Inquisitors, and a haunted, ill-omened sector of space.

Janx IV – Mining World
Koronus Bestiary p.39

A small, low-gravity, damp and mouldering swamp world. Rogue Trader Abram Valmaux discovered the world and its deep promethium reserves, and was soon shipping megalitres of the stuff to the Calixis Sector. His mining operations were destroyed in a single night by boiling white worms which ate metal and flesh with equal ease. He has since rebuilt his mining bases, with more impressive defences. The subterranean worms have yet to reappear, but it is possible that some may have been exported in raw promethium shipments.
Thanks for the storytime, and bump from page 10
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Jerazol – Dead World
Rogue Trader p.345

An unnamed Rogue Trader attempted to convert heathen population. Another unnamed group showed up, said there was fabulous technology beneath the surface, waged war, and burned everything to the ground. The rumoured dead civilization of Jerazol may have a possible connection to Naduesh.

Lucien’s Breath – Mining World
Edge of the Abyss p.16

Frozen nephium pits, ancient xenos cities, and brutal conditions. Wholly owned by Lord Captain Winterscale after the conclusion of the Chorda Affair. Considered a death sentence for workers and slaves. Probably haunted. Winterscale signs mining contracts only with close allies. A cornerstone of his dynasty’s control of Winterscale’s Realm. The mines and shipyards have expanded, and now feature subterranean sluices and hollow craters where surface lakes once existed. The world is profitable, but unwelcoming.

Bixib-B – Forge World
A small and private moon protected by the Saul dynasty, Bixib-B is a rarity in the Expanse: a fully operational forge world with orbital dockyards, forges, mines, and research outposts. While Saul keeps the moon’s precise location a secret he or his retainers occasionally open the defences to allow allied vessels to repair or restock. The Magi of Bixib-B have their own motivations. No one knows for what price Saul sold the charter and controlling stake in Bixib-B, but it was surely no bargain for the Winterscale dynasty. Still, Bixib-B remains a loyal, Imperial forge-world.
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Still writing away...

The Passage

A loose collection of orbiting asteroids and wrecks, Footfall could be described as a cancer on the far side of the Maw. It is also the first port of call for any trans-Maw shipments. For tithe reasons, no subsector would dare accept it, and so Footfall sits untithed and untroubled by Imperial oversight, in theory. In practice, control of the station fluctuates, as minor nobles, rogue traders, and desperados vie to control the riches that pass into and out of the new sector. Footfall was once partially destroyed, and the survivors relocated to a world deep in the Lethe subsector, or so it is rumoured. Nova Footfall claims it carries the “true” Footfall blood, whatever that might mean.
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And so we boarded the space hulk. The Lord Captain had her crimson void-suit, with the rest of us in whatever stained and rusted units we could scrounge. A far cry from the glory days of the dynasty depicted in the tapestries and holovids, but still, they were serviceable enough. We landed in formation with Sun Lee’s glittering gold Aquila shuttle, a much finer sight than our battered Munitorium surplus cargo hauler. “Style over substance”, Gerard said, as we exited the ramp and clamped our mag-boots to the hull.
Focused augry had revealed that, near the upper spires of the hull, something unnatural or otherwise twisted was disrupting the etheric rays of our scans. The Lord Captain, working on the sound principle of unknown energy signatures equalling treasure, curtly nodded to Sun Lee and marched inside the hulk. Sun Lee, a young thin-faced woman in lacquered power armour, strode alongside her, followed by her own squad of helmeted armsmen.
Navigating the dark and void-scarred corridors of the hulk was a challenge, but compared to what came later, not a difficult one. Swiftly, we reached a locked and armour-plated room. Cutting the doors open and breaking the discoloured machine-seals, we entered to find a curious scene.

On a plinth in the centre of the room rested a small metal box. The box was chained in place with adamantine links, and covered in wards, machine-sigils, and protective seals. None among us could decipher them, but the armsmen had little trouble prying the chains free.

“At the same time?” Tansel said, placing her hand on the box.

“Indeed,” Sun Lee countered, her gauntleted hand on the other side of the box.

“Wait. Are these runes of warning? Do we know what is in the chest?” Tansel pressed the lid firmly shut.

Sun Lee grinned, “Only one way to find out. Now either stand back or help me.”
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The box contained a grey, finely detailed scroll capped with electrum rollers that clasped together to form the dual seal of the Mechanicus. The two Rogue Traders unfurled it between them, and gazed at the markings on its surface. Both, of course, were taking pict-captures with their inbuilt equipment, committing every detail to a locked memory bank.

“So the prophecy was true,” Sun Lee said quietly over open vox.

“In..deed,” Tansel also whispered, though unconvincingly.

“I will offer you a great sum of treasure, enough to outfit a ship or pay some of your dynasty’s debts, if you allow me to keep this scroll and depart in peace.”

Tansel tutted. “This is no place to discuss such commercial matters. We should negotiate around a comfortable table, with scribes and law-wrights in attendance.”

After thinking for a moment, Sun Lee said, “Done. Aboard my ship...”

“Acceptable. But I will keep the scroll on my person... until such matters are decided.” Tansel neatly rolled up the artefact and tucked it under her arm. “Shall we?”

Glowering, but not objecting, Sun Lee turned to depart. Suddenly, the entire hulk rippled, throwing everyone about and sending howls of static through our microbeads.

Perhaps you will think me a coward if I do not speak of what happened aboard that cursed vessel. So be it. You were not there to see the corridors and bulkheads spring to life, and metallic shapes like badly formed statues peel from every surface. An army of the damned! The souls of the crew, bound to their ship, rising to crush and rend any trespasser!
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And so we fled down corridors that melted and changed before our eyes. Armsmen were dragged into the deck by hundreds of newly-formed metal arms, or torn to pieces by warp-spawned winds. The Captain was struck in the head during a great battle with a monstrous beast of iron and hatred, and was nearly killed. I dragged her unconscious body after Sun Lee as we survivors tried to make for the outer hull and the safety of the void.

Sun Lee announced that she had a teleportarium aboard her ship, a device which tales say could carry a small force from any danger, though perhaps only to deliver them to greater damnation. A teleport homing beacon was glowing on her hip, though she said we’d need to fight our way free of the hulk before it could be used safely. This we did, thanks primarily to the great accuracy and steel nerves of Gerard Laurent.

But once we escaped into the void, Sun Lee revealed her true duplicity. She had stolen the scroll from beneath the Lord Captain’s arm and was now jetting away from us, her teleport beacon glowing like a lantern.

Gerard launched himself after her. He was a poor brawler and a worse voidsman, and nearly sailed past her entirely. Luckily, at the last possible second, he reached out and caught her arm. The pair spun off into the void.

“Damn your eyes!” Gerard shouted, wrestling with the scroll. He couldn’t pry it free, not entirely, but did manage to roll it. Unfortunately, he was holding on to one roller, and Sun Lee the other.

The pair separated in space, with the scroll stretched taut between them, its silver runes glittering in the light of Cinderhall’s red star.

“Release the scroll, you fool!” Sun Lee shouted over the vox.

“I’d rather burn it, just to deny it to you,” Gerard said, “and I don’t even know what the damn thing is!”

“You mean you...”
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But Sun Lee never finished her sentence. The teleportarium aboard the Nihontu activated with a void-shredding clap of energy, whisking her to safety... and neatly cutting the scroll in half.

We were eventually picked up by a fleeing shuttle, and returned to the Reach of the Caliph in a somber, vengeful mood. The Lord Captain was rushed to the medicae deck, and I followed her, but Gerard made haste for the bridge.

The after-action reports showed that we pursued Sun Lee for the better part of an hour, exchanging fire at range as her ships slowly outpaced us. Even at extended range we dealt more damage than we received, and landed two torpedo hits that nearly crippled her flagship.

But as we escaped, a creeping sense of dread came over the crew. In the medicae deck, knives chattered in their cases, and frost crept up the walls. Some crew reported that they heard low musical tones, or bells, or distant humming. The Astropaths locked their spire and retreated to their warded caskets, and the Navigators reported dire omens.

Moments later, a great ship tore from the warp to our stern. The crew fell into a panic. Across the whole of the Koronus Sector, no name is as feared as that of Miriam Lethe, Rogue Trader, heir to the Haarlock line, mistress of monsters and burner of worlds. This was her flagship, the Eternal Fugue, a grand cruiser of ancient design and terrifying potency. And it had us locked on with all augers.
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Surely, you have heard the legends of this ship and its forlorn Captain? The Eternal Fugue was once the flagship of the Haarlock dynasty, commanded by Matthias Haarlock before the Succession Wars that claimed the life of that entire bloodline. It was cast into the warp, pried from a space hulk, refitted, and turned into a weapon of war so potent its mere approach could cow a world into submission. Aside from its macrocannon batteries and legions of boarding craft, it carried beneath its prow a fearsome Nova Cannon. The legends say half a dozen worlds have burned by Miriam Lethe’s hand. But mere military strength was not enough for the Haarlock’s heir. The ship was also laced with sorcery and mad blood-pacts, filled with a menagerie of horrors biological, mechanical, and spiritual, and protected by technology from mankind’s forgotten past.

Without bothering to determine the Lord Captain Lethe’s intentions, we instantly stopped exchanging fire with Sun Lee and diverted all power to the plasma drives, burning macrolitres of fuel and pushing the drive tubes to their limits. The Navigators reported it would be half an hour until the warp drive was in readiness. The astrogators and haruspices reported that the Eternal Fugue would be unable to reach us with her guns for at least an hour. Fate, it seemed, had placed us just out of reach.

How naive we were.
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“This is the Lord Captain Miram Lethe.” The words crackled across every laud hailer and every screen on the Reach of the Caliph, from the crew hovels to the bridge. A gaunt, tired figure appeared on the screens, hunched in a huge carved throne. Her eyes burned with barely suppressed anger, and she spoke with the calm deliberation of one far from sanity or hope of salvation.

“You have ten minutes to place the artifact in a shuttle and set it on an intercept course with my ship. Toy with me, and I will burn every ship in your fleet and sift through the wreckage.”

The transmission ceased, and we all began to pray. With the Captain unconscious and no first officer named, Gerard, Ziel, Ludovicia, and a cadre of other worthies began arguing fiercely on the bridge. Gerard launched an empty shuttle, Ziel coaxed more speed from the engines, and Ludovicia sprinted for the Navigator’s spire, to prepare for an emergency transit.

Sun Lee’s fleet turned and feel into formation near the Reach of the Caliph. If the Miriam Lethe wanted to brawl, having all four ships in formation would make it a difficult fight. She couldn’t use the nova cannon to scatter the fleet without annihilating the artifact (or its now severed halves). I suspect Sun Lee also wanted to make it clear that if she was going down, she’d be happy to take the Yilmaz dynasty with her.

Ten minutes later, Miriam Lethe made good on her threat. The Eternal Fugue executed a precise in-system warp jump, something no good Imperial Navigator could ever hope to emulate. But the twisted Nostromo line that steers that hellish vessel care nothing for convention. The Eternal Fugue slammed out of the warp and into the formation, cutting one of Sun Lee’s frigates in half with its armoured prow.
Anybody still reading this?
waiting for you to finish, then will read in the morning.
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I'm reading and stealing your pictures too

Good to hear. Going to slow down a bit, but I'll keep updating when I can.
Hell, you're a slowpoke and post when I should be working, but I'll be damned if you don't write a story worth stalling work for.

Do continue, Remembrancer.
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The Navigators did not wait for an order from the bridge, but immediately engaged the warp engines, slipping us into that hellish realm of nightmare space with barely a minute’s warning. We fled, patching our hull along the way, and trying to stave off despair. Ludovicia declared three days of double rations, and the Captain, when she recovered, roved the upper decks encouraging her officers.

Our destination was the Marwolv system, a strange and ill-favoured within spitting distance of the Rifts of Hecaton. No traders claimed the system, and no colonies bustled by the light of its dying red sun. Some said it holds a trap laid by a xenos race to ensnare the foolish. Some say it once held a prosperous agri-world, ‘till razor-winged creatures devoured every living inhabitant. Perhaps the charts describe different systems, or every trader finds their own Marwolv. Who can say? In the Unbeholden Reaches, such tales live lives of their own.

But we hid there, in orbit around a great blue-white gas giant, huddled in its icy rings on silent running. If anyone could track a ship across the void, Miriam Lethe could. Our augers listened for any hint of the Eternal Fugue dropping into the system, and our tech-priests did their best to repair the damaged hull of the Reach of the Caliph. The Captain and her officers studied their half of the mysterious scroll, sending Ludovicia to consult with the Navigators, and digging up ancient historical charts and conspiring in dark corners.
Question, OP, just for my curiousity's sake.

Is this a story you made up for yourself, or is it an in-character recounting of a campaign you played, with the other named crew and officers being PCs too?
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It's the record of a campaign. I'm GMing it. Tansel Yilmaz, Ziel Gillam, Ludovicia D'Merlo, and Gerard Laurent are all PCs.
The map, it was soon announced, was priceless. It was an Explorator relic, possibly written by the Thulians themselves. A masterwork, a tribute to the machine god, spun in Navigator cypher, machine runes, and perhaps just a touch of theatricality. The map showed a stable warp route across the Rifts of Hecaton, into the unknown and untouched Halo Stars.

This was the Winding Stair, the fabled corkscrewing passage sought be Aquairre, Hecaton, Magos Thule, and a dozen others... all unsuccessfully. But now we had a map, and a few worlds marked on the far side of the boiling rifts. Aside from Sun Lee, no one knew the route. And we were in a prime position to explore it.

But the Captain had become distracted. She’d spotted some unusual readings on the auxpex, centered around the third icy moon of this unnamed planet, and she had a hankering to go exploring.
>I'm GMing it.
So it's ongoing? Real life, I presume?

Yup. I have about 4,000-6,000 words of content to type up before next session.
A young campaign then. If your group sticks together and you stay motivated, this will be entertaining for months to come!

I wanted to get into Rogue Trader or Dark Heresy myself, but my RL group is pretty set on Vampire and Roll20 offers no group available to europeans.
I am RL gm, and as I am reading your story my own ideas are springing forth. I have gmed RT before, much more experienced with DH and OW. But with small pieces from your stories added with my own... I think I have a new grand Campaign in the workings.

Btw! Harloocks Legacy are some great books for Harloock plots. Its a quest in three parts for Dark Heresy but considering your own tales you might get a few new ideas from them.

Just a small tip if you would need it good sir.

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