Editing Nobledark Imperium Drafts (section)

==== The Fall of Istvaan V ====

Editor's Note: Per writefag, dates can be shuffled around.

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Istvaan V was a world of very little interest to the wider Imperium. The only feature it had of note were a series of mountainous fortifications dating back hundreds of thousands of years before the first humans arrived in the area, believed to be of ancient kinebrach construction; but whatever those defenses had been built to protect was long since gone. All that was left was a barely breathable atmosphere maintained by a meager biosphere of bacterial mats.

Still, as Istvaan III began its expansion out into space, they saw promise in their near neighbor, and began the centuries- long process of terraforming it. Slow successions of introduced pioneer species and careful geoengineering transformed Istvaan V from a borderline uninhabitable globe into a fertile agri- world, feeding colonies across the Istvaan system and beyond. For thousands of years Istvaan V enjoyed this gentle, quiet prosperity.

Then in 343.M36, it ended.

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To this day nobody in the Imperium knows what led Nimina Demthring to take an interest in such an unassuming world. Some believe she heard of local legends claiming (inaccurately) that Isha herself had taken some level of interest in the terraforming of the world, and thought that the world would offer some opportunity to get closer to Isha in her sick and twisted way. Others think that the world held some deep secret beneath its fortresses, one the Imperial inhabitants remained ignorant of but that Nimina somehow discovered. Most people, however, assume that she simply saw a relatively soft target and went for it.

Whatever the cause, a fleet of ghastbone daemon-ships translated out of warp, trailing sprays of corrosive pus, glistening pipes bulging out of rents in the hull like entrails, and made an immediate beeline for Istvaan V.


Despite being outmatched, the System Defense Force rallied to its protection.

The opening engagement of the battle seemed to go astonishingly well for the defenders, with the attacking Crone fleet breaking off its attack after only a few volleys. Any celebration was short- lived, however, as the Nurglites' plan revealed itself. They had woven entropic curses into their weapons and ammunition, which were now going to work on the ships of the Istvaan SDF. Rust crept along the corridors like time- lapse photography of a growing fungus, causing vital systems to malfunction and decay. Meanwhile, the injuries inflicted in the brief struggle on the Croneworlders were slowly healing themselves, scabbing over with diseased growths of new ghastbone. It was obvious that they were simply going to wait for the defenders to be reduced to utter helplessness before they moved in for the kill.

It was obvious that the naval defense was no longer viable, and regretfully the decision was made to pull back. The still salvageable ships would withdraw behind the orbital defenses of Istvaan III. The hopelessly contaminated were left with skeleton crews to launch a final attack, to cover the retreat and try to do as much damage as possible. Charging into the teeth of the enemy gun- line in ships half broken down already, it could not be anything more than a suicide charge. When the dust cleared, although some damage had been done the way was clear for the ground attack to begin.

The people of Istvaan V withdrew into the ancient fortifications; although most of them had long since been repurposed for habitation or similar purposes, they were still formidable constructions, built with all the skill of kinebrach artisans from the height of their empire to stand up to almost any foe. They had sheltered the people of Istvaan V from everything from Ork Waaaghs to Dark Eldar raiders for millennia. They had endured before; they would endure again. Or so they hoped.


Nimina declined to launch a conventional invasion. Instead, she dropped a set of horrific protoplasmic creatures on the world, things cultivated within the depths of Nurgle's Gardens. The amorphous abominations rapidly began expanding, spreading their tendrils across hundreds of kilometers to consume the rich biosphere of the agri- world. The PDF launched their small stocks of atomic weapons, backed by waves of bombers filled with incendiaries, but for every tendril they burned away two more had already taken root. Empowered by sorcerous rituals enacted on the warships orbiting above, the creeping sludge simply grew too far and too fast to be contained. Despite every desperate effort, the tide of slime washed over the bastions, worming its way inside though even the tiniest gaps. 

Thousands of desperate battles erupted in the winding corridors of the antediluvian fortresses as the people inside desperately tried to fight back, but it was like trying to hold back the ocean; there was simply too much and it was too fluid. It overwhelmed strongpoints and seeped through cracks in sealed doors. At the end, a few hundred thousand people managed to save themselves in the deepest layers by collapsing the access ways entirely, hoping that an Imperial rescue force would find some way to dig them out. 

Then the Conservator fleet fired up its teleporters. An hour later, there were no survivors. Only the slime, coating the continents and filling the seas. The Nurglite force remained only a few more hours before departing, leaving behind only a single light cruiser which had been crippled by a suicidal ramming attack and was unable to make warp. And, of course, a murdered world. From start to finish the entire operation had taken just over 200 hours, and two billion souls were dead.

Just a day later an Imperial relief force translated in, too late. All that they could do was to exterminate the abominations that had been left behind, pounding the world until nothing was left but an airless desert of volcanic glass. 

The people of the Istvaan system have neither forgiven nor forgotten. 

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