Machina Dei

The influences of the different factions.

The following was posted on /tg/:

"I think we can build a game on two simple concepts:

1) Ancient Roman Empire 2) Giant Mechs.

Doable?"

This is what resulted.

Thread 1: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/6419240/
Thread 2: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/6422623/
Thread 3: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/6425883/
Thread 4: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/6431149/
Thread 5: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/6434371/
Thread 6: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/6438315/

Crunch

Current rules are allowed to change. All Dice are d10s. If rules aren't explicitly stated, it probably works with WHFB rules.

Stats

Every creature has a rating in each of the following attributes.

• Move - one point is one inch
• Wounds - health. Usually only a few.
• Initiative - dictates who goes first in a melee.
• Morale - used to resist morale effects, mostly.
• Size - Determines the size of the model's base and is used for damage.

Moving

Moving happens during the "Move" phase. Units move a distance equal to their "move" score, in inches. Measure from the front of each model's base. There are three unit types, and they use different rules.

Individual Units

This is any unit composed of a single model. Most secondaries and all primaries fit this category. They use no special rules.

Skirmishers

These units are comprised of multiple associated models. They use no special combat rules, but must remain close together at all times. When moving them, place them all within one inch of another model in the squad. When they die, remove them in a manner which does not violate this.

Formations

Formations are square groupings of models forming a unit. Each base remains parallel and touching other units. Exact dimensions vary according to the formation used, as do benefits gained by this. Formations use the following special rules.

Advancing: Formations move in the direction they are facing. The line of movement should be perpendicular to the formation's leading edge. Units may drift up to one inch to either side.

Wheeling: Units pivot on one of their forward corners. Move is expended equal to the distance traveled by the other forward corner.

Turning: Units turn ninety degrees to either side, or turn to face the opposite direction. One move is expended.

Reform: Units change formation. This costs two move, and allows the unit to Turn as well.

Fighting

The following is the rules for combat. Ranged attacks go through this process once for an attack. In a melee, use the Initiative rules.

Area Attacks: Area attacks are attacks are attacks which target a location, rather than a unit. Any units within the Splash Range are subject to this attack. Ranged Units may choose to use a volley, and make an Area Attack at a -1 penalty instead of targeting a unit. Some units may have an Area Attack as a special ability.

Dividing Attacks: When any single unit is attacking two or more units with the same attack, they divide attacks. This occurs when a melee unit is in base-to-base contact with two or more enemy units, or when multiple units are within the Splash Range of an Area Attack. When dividing attacks, decide how many attacks are allocated to each targeted unit. The sum of the attacks allocated cannot exceed the total number of attacks available to the attacking unit. You will perform these attacks separately following the steps as normal for each attack.

Initiative: In melee, the unit with the highest initiative goes first, followed by the unit with the next-highest initiative, until there are no units who have not gone. If in any case, Initiative is tied, the unit with the smaller size goes before units with equal initiative but greater size. If Initiative and Size are both tied, roll off.

To-Hit

Successfully hitting a creature requires rolling greater than a certain number, that number determined by the difference in attacker and defender tier.

-3 tiers down: All attacks hit.
-2 tiers down: success on > 1
-1 tier down: success on > 3
-Same tier: success on > 5
-1 tier up: success on > 7
-2 tiers up: success on > 9
-3 tiers up: No attacks hit.

Add modifiers from gear or special abilities to this.

Wounding

Wounding is a process which comes in three steps, and is the way to kill models.

1. Do damage equal to Attacker Size - Defender Size. If this is less than one, do one damage instead. Note that many weapons add damage. This damage is added after a damage less than one is replaced with one.

2. Multiply damage by the number attacks. This is one per model by default, however weapons may give additional attacks.

3. Deal wounds. If the defender is of the same or lower tier, one damage is equal to one wound. If the defender is of higher tier, it takes one wound for every 5 damage if the tier difference is 1, 25 damage if tier difference is 2, and 125 damage if tier difference is 3. Discard fractions.

If, at the end of this process, a unit has taken wounds equal to or greater than the model's wound rating, remove a model for each multiple of the wound value taken. Excess wounds are given to a surviving model.

Rout

If the defender loses more than half of their models, or if the defender is two or more tiers below the attacker, check for rout. Roll a d10. If the number rolled is higher than the defender's Morale score plus any modifiers, nothing happens. However, if it is lower, the defender is considered to have routed, and is removed from play.

Tiers

Units in Machina Dei all fall into one of three tiers: Primary, Secondary, and Tertiary. Each Faction has units in each tier.

Primary Tier

The Primary Tier is the most powerful of all tiers. Primary tier units are the upmost limit of power for a faction, and for many factions it is the first thing you think about when you think of them. It is rare for more than a one of these to be in an army, and many armies do jus fine without one.

Secondary Tier

These are the Mid-Level units. They often form the bulk of an army's capability, Almost all armies have a good handful of these.

Tertiary Tier

These are the weakest units that still have some augmention to them. While they're still much more powerful than ordinary civilians, they are vastly inferior to other tiers. Where they make up for it is numbers. Most armies will have more Tertiary units than any other type. In addition, Because of their numbers, Tertiary units can form formations.

Fodder

Mundane humans with mundane equipment, completely devoid any divine or supernatural blessings. These units pale in comparison to those of the tertiary tier and are only used in vast quantities. They count as a "quaternary" tier for the sake of to-hit rolls, but deal damage as though they were tertiary units. (thus, it does not require ten successful attacks from fodder to wound a single tertiary unit) They are considered tertiary for the sake of effects that do not specifically state otherwise.

Factions

Every group with significant influence is listed here.

NO MORE FACTIONS ARE TO BE ADDED

Roman

Roman war machine.

The Roman Empire has endured for 800 years under the reign of one Julius Caesar. Upon his ascension to dictator, the god Jupiter descended to show his favor, and Vulcan bequeathed unto the empire hundreds of great suits of armor, many time taller than the tallest men. Caesar used these machines to expand the empire, and the followers of Vulcan learned to create lesser machines of this nature. Now Caesar is old, and his age is finally beginning to show after living for centuries. He has headed east to fight the Chinese, leaving Nero to govern Rome in his stead.

Primary: God Machines

These are the bronze warriors made by Vulcan himself. Each is the size of the Collosus, has the form of a man, and wields a sword and shield of similar proportion. A man must climb inside of one, through the mouth, to pilot it, directing it with the motions of his own body.

Secondary: Man Machines

These machines, while magnificent, pale in comparison to the God Machines. Where the God Machines are made in sleek imitation of human form, these are merely plated things in an upright form Gears and bars are visible through gaps in the armor. They too have sword and shield, though they are smaller. These are the bulk of the roman forces. Unlike other Secondary units, Man Machines can use formations.

Tertiary: Lorica Faulta

Creating the metal warriors is not an easy task, and often it fails. The remainder is used for Lorica Faulta, or Failed Armor. This armor provides good protection, and lends weight to the blows of one who wears it, but it pales in comparison to even the Man Machines.

Christian

Jesus Christ walked the earth freely seven centuries ago. During that time, He healed the sick, taught wisdom, and helped those in need. But he was also critical of the Roman Empire, and so Pontius Pilate, then magistrate of the lands where Jesus walked, sought to have him killed. A troop of Man Machines were sent to slay him, but any wound merely healed, leaving the Christ yet living and free to speak as he would. So Pontius Pilate acquired the services of 100 smiths of Vulcan, and constructed a great cross, with the power of the gods, that Jesus might be killed. And it was built towering over Jerusalem, and Judas, one of Jesus followers, delivered the Christ onto Pilate for 30 silver. Jesus took his place within the great cross, and was pierced through, and did not heal. But neither did Jesus die, and so he remained there. And so Paul, a follower of Jesus, went out into the lands to tell people the good news which Jesus had taught, and to oppose the Romans.

Primary: Heralds

At the beginning of the Universe, YHWH created divine beings to serve him. These beings were diverse in form, and mighty in power. Should many Christians die in the name of Jesus, these Angels may come to earth to vanquish the foes of Christ.

Special Rules: Roll a die for each tertiary christian who dies. add the results of those rolls up. At the end of each turn, halve the number from that turn. When you hit the target number, the Herald comes.

The following is an example: You paid for the angel Malachi. His target number is (let's say) 32. You start play without him. First turn, you lose two Christians, roll two dice. Let's say that's an 8. Eight isn't enough, so at the end of your turn, it becomes four. Next turn, you lose one christian to a lucky shot. Roll a 5. 5+8 = 13. Not enough. At the end of your turn, the five halves. Now it's 2+8, leaving you at 10. Your Christians charge, you lose six of them. Roll 6d6. Get 23. 23+10=33. That's enough. Malachi comes into play within his move distance from one of your units.

Secondary: Ascendants

A christian may be bolted into a machine, like the one which holds Christ, and by the power of YHWH be given a new angelic body. It is with no joy that a Christian does this, however, for a death in this form destroys the soul, and a Herald can not linger long on earth to aid those she treasures there.

Special Rules: Tertiary christians can be sacrificed during battle to bring an Ascendant into play. This allows you to pretty much play the Ascendant whenever you want - though it takes a full turn and can't be in melee - but this is still a bit of an advantage. Thus, angels have few wounds. If it takes ten attacks to inflict a single wound from tertiaries, 1-3 should be enough. Of course, that will hardly hold out against Man Machines for very long. Perhaps some sort of limited effect to defend itself in other ways? I dunno.

Tertiary: Christians

The Christians fight with the experience of a thousand lives, for they do not die. Indeed, many Christians still live that walked with Jesus. When a christian dies, she is reborn 3 days later. Scars remain, but YHWH gives his children new body parts should they lose some in his service. As a result, the oldest Christians sparkle with limbs or eyes made of lightning and fire.

Chinese

A vast empire governed by ritual and might the Thousand-Year Dynasties proclaim their rule by the Mandate of Heaven. An exotic nation far to the East, it is home to tall tales of unending numbers of tireless troops, monkey sages that trapeze off clouds and can kill a man with a touch, and hulking stone lions that gain life to defend the Forbidden City. Its capital is a bewildering combination of culture and conquest; for every nation under its authority, the Phoenix Emperor demolishes its capital and builds a full-scale replica in his own, consolidating power through the very ties that bind his enemies

Primary: Dragons

The dragons rarely deign to intervene in mortal affairs, but when they do, they bring great power into play.

Secondary: Jade Wagons

These heavily armored Jade vehicles have rockets on their sides, and roll on treads. The rockets are devastating weapons, as they launch with force vastly exceeding that of arrows, and can explode on contact, depending on type. They have a serious drawback, however: There are a limited number of them. When all rockets have been fired, the tubes must be reloaded with new rockets. It is rare that this could be accomplished during battle, and the only other possible manner of attacking is for the crew to fight.

Tertiary: Terracotta Warriors

In the great ritual factories of the many river valleys of China, the low rumble of work can be heard night and day. Formed from the bosom of the Earth herself these Warriors are assembled from a variety of molds, armed with iron and even steel tipped with chromium as to not dull even after ten-thousand strikes. The vast numbers of warriors in China's armies are without count,

These are armed with pikes and cho-ko-nu.

Indian

As Rome expanded Eastward, they encountered India, then ruled by Ashoka the Great. Ashoka was tired of war, having conquered the nations surrounding India and found no joy in it. The advancing general asked that India become a territory of Rome. Ashoka, of course, declined. immediately as soon as word could be gotten to Caesar and back, the order was given. Invade. Ashoka was unwilling to fight the Romans, and they pushed deeply into Indian lands. Ashoka, however, saw that the invading general was cruel, and Ashoka was enraged. He once more took up the sword, and the Roman advance was brought to a halt.

This day much of India is in Roman hands, and Ashoka, once called Great, now endeavors to regain it through guile.

Primary: Avatars

Gods make forms of themselves to receive oblations and occasionally aid their followers. Though they lack the true force of gods, they are powerful by mortal standards.

Secondary: Siddhi Monks

Hindu and Buddhist monks who have attained some of the Siddhis. Some may change their sizes, or enter another's body, or fly or change one thing into another.

Tertiary: War Elephants

Indian Elephants are used in devastating charges, and they can carry archers on their backs. Some are blessed with increased size or additional tusks.

Celtic

Britain was a tantalizing jewel of shore of Gaul, and it was only natural that Caesar should lust after it. So Brutus was sent, as a reward for his aid uncovering an assassination attempt, to destroy the Celts, commanded by Boudica, who is growing more powerful (and more immortal) with each Celtic tribe she unites. He took a full legion, and invaded. But he was unprepared for what met him. His supplies dissipated, in small quantities, during the night. His men were harassed as they marched by blue-faced savages. More than one Man Machine was damaged by a falling tree. The men were quickly exhausted, and injured. And so when they arrived in a circle of standind stones, they were unprepared for what happened. The Machines stopped moving. Brutus set the smiths of Vulkan who had come to work at once. But the blue-faced demons burst from the trees, great clubs in hand. The soldiers drew their blades, but with mere mortal force, the blades glanced off the hides of the blue beasts as though they were cut from stone. the Romans were set upon, and defeated, even before the Treemen stepped out of the forest. It is said that Brutus' head still screams litanies of hate from the top of Boudica's spear.

Boudica was pleased.

A mere week later, she launched an assault on northern Gaul. The Romans there were caught by surprise, not having heard of the defeat of Brutus, and the Celts successfully seized an additional legion of Man Machines and established a foothold on the continent.

Primary: Treemen

Massive druidic trees covered in tusks, horns, and various charms. Animated by the elder Druids, the only ones powerful enough to supply the amount of power needed to create on and not have the life essence drained from him.

Secondary: Taken Weapons/Champions

The Man Machines taken at Gaul bear little resemblance to the originals, plant matter suffuses and powers them now.

The Celtic champions are Woaden who have taken so many heads (and absorbed so much power) they no longer look entierly human. Now they are huge, resilient creatures with greenish flesh, pieces of Roman armour strapped onto them and belts covered in their treasured trophies; the heads of the slain.

Tertiary: Woaden

Warriors wearing Woad paint; it makes them supernaturally resilient. Swords glance of their sides.

• Woden Team with Druid - the druid can provide defensive and speed buffs to the group
• Fae Blessed Woden Team - this team has constant benefit of being under the watchful eyes of the eye, protecting them by tricking their would be attackers
• Nature Blessed Woden Team - this team has the benefit of being under the protection nature spirits protection, so as long they remain significant vegetation it will work to hinder their enemies

Special Rules: Woaden count as on tier higher for defensive purposes.

If a Woaden unit attacks an enemy from withtin a forest, the enemy untit's Initiative counts as 1.

Hun

Hun warriors share their bodies with creatures referred to as "spirit-kin". They're bizarre looking creatures with no real similarity or reason to their appearance, when they are outside of a body, but they are considered to be related to humans in soul if not in form. Attila, the current Hun leader, has several spirit-kin wives who share his body.

Huns will merge with a spirit-kin to augment their own powers in battle, and to provide the spirit-kin with a body. The spirit-kin can only endure for a matter of hours without a body to reside in, so they are very grateful for the Hun willingness to host them. They repay the warriors with beneficial mutations, be they as simple as increased size and strength, or more complicated, such as extra limbs, tentacles, mouths or eyes. This takes time, of course, so the oldest of the Huns are also the most powerful, and least human.

Primary: Old Ones

Bigger than most buildings, utterly inhuman.

Secondary: Spirit-kin

These are spirit-kin temporarily outside of their hosts.

Tertiary: Warriors

Merged with a spirit-kin and mounted, they rely primarily on bows. Fairly similar to humans.

Mercenary Factions

Mercenaries are the factions which for whatever reason cannot form their own armies efficiently. They are considered Tertiary units, and may belong to any army.

Barbarians

The Barbarians live in Europe, in the lands under Nero's dominion. They fight through sheer force of arms.

Norsemen

Runic armor keeps their power from fleeing; it is used to wield immense weapons and kill things better.

Special Rules: Norsemen count as one tier higher for offensive purposes.

Rus

Bear cavalry. Halberds?

Gauls

Potion fueled warriors, see Asterix and Obelisk.

Arabs

The Arabs live in the middle east, behind Caesar's front line in China. They enslave beings to serve them.

Jews

Golems. They do not need to be driven, and are powered by the words in their heads.

Beduin

The Beduin use bound djinni for their purposes. Djinni have innate control of fire, and are composed of it. Long ago Solomon bound and commanded many of the djinn for his own purposes; whenever a djinn is found trapped in a bottle, it is likely Solomon who put it there. Of course it's been a thousand years since then, and though some djinn are still bound to rings or bottles or lamps, others have gained greater or lesser measures of freedom since then, and the Bedouin sorcerers often struggle to ensure that the djinn do not act according to their own wishes.

Peri

The Peri are spirits imprisoned in great iron machines to punish them for not taking a side in the war between good and evil. The Persians can repurpose these machines to fight the Machines of the Romans. Unlike other mercenaries, these are secondary tier units.

Writefaggotry

Brother Anatole

Brother Anatole wiped the sweat from his brow as he kept watch on the narrow defile. The cliff fort, a long-abandoned brigand stronghold that was more cave than building, had served them well. They'd held out against the Romans for three days, and, Jehova willing, they had supplies to continue doing so for several weeks. Brother Elezar emerged from below and joined him on the battlement.

"Any change?" "No. Since the assault last night, there's been no sight of them. Perhaps they're content to wait us out." "Then they may know the location of this place, but not the nature. The grain stocks are full, the spring sweet and ever-flowing. So long as the Romans do not breach the walls, we are as safe here as anywhere." Elezar chuckled. "Far safer than the streets of Jerusalem." Anatole shot him a stern look. "Do not underestimate the Romans. That they even found our stronghold shows that they are resourceful." "Or that we have a traitor in our midst." Elezar spat. "If so, may he burn in Sheol for all time. And may our blades send him swiftly." "Peace, Elezar. Did our Lord not say, 'Blessed are the meek,'? If Jehova wills it, it will be so."

Anatole returned to his vigil, and Elezar turned to go and tend the wounded, then froze. He'd heard - no, he'd felt something, a vibration coming up through his feet. Like an earthquake, or many men marching in step. He turned back to Anatole. "Do you feel that?" Anatole's mouth hardened into a grim line. "They come again. Warn the others."

Elezar raced below, and returned several minutes later with the contingent that manned the battlement. In the meantime, the vibration grew ever stronger, until it could be felt deep within the rock itself. The men prepared their weapons, as the priests prepared poultices for the inevitable wounded and blessed the fighting men. Finally, after an eternity of creeping dread, the first glint of steel could be seen at the mouth of the defile. Then the battle standard came around the edge and into full view. Anatole gasped and drained to a ghostly pallor.

"Iesu save us, it's the Legio VIII Mechanicus."

Several men groaned aloud as the realization of their imminent death hit them like a hammer blow. Now the monstrosities were in plain view. Twice as tall as a man and emblazoned with the Imperial eagle, these were some of the least of Rome's mechanical works. Still, they were more than a match for anything the Christians had at-hand, and would hew through them like a scythe through wheat. And the men that controlled them were battle-hardened veterans known for their savagery. They had just returned from the sack of Persepolis and had nothing but contempt for the undisciplined Christian partisans. There would be no resurrection for the men here; their bodies would be dismembered and burned, their sanctified tombs defiled. On they came at a near-parade march, as though this were a tree-lined Roman avenue and not a killing field. Behind and around them were the legionaires, looking like so many armored children beside the steel behemoths.

As they closed, the defenders let loose with arrow and javelin. They wounded a legionaire or two, but plinked harmlessly off the thick steel carapaces of the great armored suits. The legionaires threw a return volley of javelins, and now it was the defenders' turn to bleed and die. A few men were struck, and a priest went down with a javelin in his neck, gasping like a fish in a net. The armored units had reached the wall and began hacking and battering it into rubble. Brother Baram, the leader of the men on the wall, saw the direness of the situation and ordered the use of their most precious weapon: several amphorae of Greek Fire. The legionaires scattered before the clinging liquid fire, but the armored units stood unfazed. One armored suit took a direct hit from an amphora and was set ablaze. It became a nightmare beast, a burning demon who implacably hammered upon the slowly crumbling wall. As the steel heated, it even began to glow and make an unearthly shrieking sound. Some of the defenders broke and fled at the sight. Eventually the armor fell and was still, but a dozen more still methodically went about reducing the wall to so much broken rock.

Anatole stopped in mid-bowshot. A strange peace settled over him as he dropped his weapon and strode purposefully away from the face of the wall. He grabbed the highest ranking priest by the shoulder and turned him around. "Gather the elders. We must begin The Ritual with haste if we are to have time." A look of horror and shock crossed the priest's face. "Surely, brother, the situation is dire, but not so dire that we might need summon a Herald." Anatole shook his head no. "There is no choice. If we do not, not a man here will survive, nor rise again. We do this, and we do it now." The priest ran to pass word, and Anatole turned and shouted to the men. "Hold fast! Fight to the last breath, and you shall rise again to serve our Lord! Glory to God in the highest!" The men shouted back as one, "And to the risen Iesu!"

The old stronghold was well-fortified, but even thick walls of stone could not resist the pummeling of the armored units forever. The wall buckled and fell, crushing defenders and opening a wound through which the Romans could pour. The Christians fought valiantly to defend the breach but were no match for Roman steel and the monstrous suits, which crushed man and rock alike in their effort to widen the hole. The defenders refused to fall back and were slaughtered where they stood. As the Romans gained the breech, the commanding centurion surveyed the scene before him.

The wall and the cliff face created a courtyard that backed onto a cave. Christians continued to throw themselves fearlessly at the legionaires, fighting men and unarmed clerics alike, singing the praises of the risen Iesu as they died. Beyond them were a group of defenders, obviously elites, their battle scars declaring their hard-earned martial prowess. And beyond them, in front of the cave mouth, stood a single cross with Anatole crucified upon it, surrounded by chanting priests. The centurion shouted orders to his men to kill the man on the cross, but he was too late.

Even as he spoke, Anatole screamed and pulsed with a blinding inner light. His flesh seemed to melt away and vanished, replaced by a pillar of white light. The light coalesced and took on the form of a two-story tall armored man with four wings, beautiful and terrible of visage. He reached into the empty air before him and drew forth a flaming greatsword. His mouth opened, and a voice like a trumpet thundered from everywhere, shaking the very foundations of the mountains and cracking the mortar of the stone wall. "YOU WHO WOULD SEEK TO DESTROY THE FAITHFUL, SHALL DIE TODAY!"

The Herald lashed out with his sword and killed a half dozen legionaires in a single blow. The rest broke and attempted to flee, but were stopped by the bulk of the armored units pushing through the gap. The first armored soldier charged the angelic form alone and was neatly cleaved in two, sparks showering in all directions. Three more came on together, landing hits but not perceptibly slowing the Herald before being similarly dispatched. The remaining living Christians rallied at the sight and threw themselves into battle with a renewed fervor, all the while singing hymns of thanksgiving.

When the battle was won and the Romans had all died or fled, the Christians gathered around the titanic angel. The eldest cleric spoke: "Thanks be to you, servant of Jehova, for your effort has saved us all." The Herald, in a far quieter boom, replied, "THE THANKS BELONGS TO ANATOLE, AND IT IS BY HIS SELFLESSNESS THAT YOU STILL LIVE. REMEMBER HIS NAME FOR ALL GENERATIONS, AND THAT HE UNDERTOOK THE GREATEST SACRIFICE IN SERVICE OF THE RISEN LORD." With that, his gaze turned skyward, and he dimmed and faded from view.

Elezar fell to his knees, weeping openly. Baram placed his hand on the man's head and said, "Weep not for your lost friend, for he sits now at the right hand of Jehova. Weep for we living, who must continue to struggle against the might of Rome." He then turned and walked away, joining the priests in the duty of entombing his fallen men, that they might rise again.

Attila

Attila sat down by the river. Bleda was playing at politics again. It irritated Attila, for Bleda was given to error in this arena. No matter; Attila had a greater purpose for this time. The river would bless the tribe. Attila knew little of shamanism, but he knew more than Bleda, and one of them had to do it. Attila tossed the strip of horseflesh into the river. He said the words that Rugila had taut him before his death. The river spirit would come. Then, on sudden impulse, Attila stood, and cut his wrist, letting blood fall into the river. Stupid. Why had he done that; that was the wrong thing to do. Then a blade arose from the water, curved and cruel. It was followed by a sinuous black tentacle with a single eye. The sword and tentacle writhed forward to Attila. "Augh," Attila stepped away from the thing. A mouth formed about its midsection. "Please.. your world burns me... Give me shelter in your form! I'll bring you power in battle like no other man.." The thing was like no river spirit, but victory in battle was what Attila had prayed for. "Very well." The thing slithered forward, and with great sped it leaped into the Hun's body. It was gone for a moment, and then the curved blade sprung outward from Attila's flesh, forming in his hand. Attila heard that voice once more in his mind, "I shall henceforth be... the Sword.... of Attila."

That was centuries ago. Attila had more of the spirits within him now. All the warriors had at leas one. The sword remained at Attila's hand - what was left of it. The arm had lengthened, becoming whip-like. The hand no longer had fingers, but was fused to the blade. And yet, it was the most human part of the body. The Blade still talked to Attila, of course. It was his greatest companion. And Attila was the Greatest being. The Romans would fall before his might. Soon.

Modun

Today was the day that Modun would become a man and join the likes of his father out on the battlefield. It was the day that he would be blessed by a spirit-kin of his own, a creature who would become his companion for the rest of his days. Needless to say, the boy was more than a little nervous. He'd heard many things about the merging - that it would hurt, that he might lose some part of himself - but, standing there surrounded by his kin, there was no backing out now.

Modun gripped the ceremonial blade tightly as he slashes his wrist, letting the blood spill onto the drawings that had been made in the sand. He kept his gaze fixed forward, not daring to look down at the pool of blood that was forming at his feet, but, even so, he still saw *something* move at the edge of his vision. It was his spirit-kin.

He felt something warm wrap around his leg. As he clenched his eyes shut, he could hear a voice speaking to him softly, as though from across a great distance. The voice was soft and feminine - surprisingly so. "Don't be afraid. I will give you glory."

He opened his eyes and looked down, seeing a girl who looked to be about his age hugging him. He knew his eyes were lying, that this wasn't her true form, but he felt soothed nonetheless. In part because what he saw was familiar, but also because it was a good omen to see the kin's spirit and not their form. He knew then that he would become a great warrior, quickly outshining his father.

So, while the merging hurt, as expected, it was a good pain.

Marcus

Marcus hated living at the edge of the Empire, and had quickly come to regret moving to Armenia. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. As a retired soldier, he'd be given a rather large tract of land he could live on and pass down to his children.

But Marcus had no children as all the local women were too ugly to even consider the act. The land, while spacious, was difficult to work, and, worst of all, being at the edge of the empire meant he was last in line for the benefits of being Roman. This was especially salient now that there were reports of nomads from the steppes coming down from across the Caucuses.

Nomads that ate the flesh of the conquered, and performed strange blood rites. Evil men whose hearts burned black with disease and death. They were subhuman scum not fit to see the splendor of the Empire.

But they were ferocious fighters, and the Legionnaires were no where to be seen. Marcus considered packing his things and heading back to the Inner Empire. Maybe signing back on with the military as a mercenary. But, for better or worse, Marcus couldn't bring himself to abandoned his hard won land, as damnable as it may be.

Early one morning, when Marcus looked out over the terrain as he did every morning, he saw them. Or, more accurately, he saw the smoke. The local township was burning, and the stench of death filled the air, carried to him by the wind.

Hurriedly, Marcus went inside to fetch his sword and armor. If he were to die this day, he'd die with a fight - with Roman honor and a Roman flame burning in his heart, but something was off. His home felt oddly alien. Everything looked the same, and everything was in the right place, but he couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness. Ignoring the sensation, he quickly put on his armor, tying the clasps tightly before reaching for his sword.

Then he felt it. Something latched onto his wrist. He saw it as well, but his mind refused to register the things appearance, so he wondered mutely why his hand had stopped short of the hilt. Outside he could hear the frenzied yells and blood curdling screams of things that should not exist on this world.

"Yessss..." he heard someone speak. Their voice was painful to listen to. "I shall take you, but do not worry, human, I shall not devour your flesh like I did the others. You are more interesting than that. I shall make you mine." Marcus could feel it moving across his body, under the armor he had put on - armor that quickly proved useless against this assailant.

He wasn't sure if it was fear, or something else that prevented him from moving, but Marcus was sure of one thing. He was not going to die this day, and, for the first time in years, Marcus began to cry.