Nobledark Imperium Imperial Society and Culture

This page is part of the Nobledark Imperium, a fan re-working of the Warhammer 40,000 Universe. See the Nobledark Imperium Introduction and Main Page for more information on the alternate universe

With over a million worlds representing over a hundred different member species, cultural traditions and society vary wildly across the Imperium. Most of these traditions are unique to, or may not even be dominant on, a single planet. However, there are some notable traditions or cultural events that go beyond the confines of a single world and affect a multitude of worlds or even the Imperium as a whole.

Aspects of Steel

ASPECTS OF STEEL (selected passage from the article Entertainment In The Imperium: An Overview, available from the Rhetor Imperia’s Socio-Analysis Indices, or Trazyn The Infinite’s Necron-nomicon)

A holo-film series of the old “buddy-Arbiter” genre, its ten installments (although not even the producers will acknowledge the studio-mandated attempted reboot that was the sixth film), five mini-series, and whole host of graphic novels and literary works, focuses on an investigation team made of a young and brash Aspect Warrior, and a cynical, retired, Space Marine assigned to the (fictional) Arbites Department of Special Investigations. Originally lauded by critics for its flipping of the traditional Eldar/Human stereotypes, and its accurate showing of inter-species relationships in the Imperium, the series also features large explosions, cheesy (yet memorable) dialogue, and sensible tactics, all wrapped together in a near-propaganda package whose tone has been described as, in the words of one review, “Imperium, FUCK YEAH!”. Major characters in this series include:

Brother Yakov - Last survivor of the (fictional) Steel Heralds chapter. A world-weary, cynical man seeking revenge against the mysterious forces that destroyed his chapter while he was on leave, he often gets the best lines, most of which are improvised by his actor, who is an actual Astartes who was forcibly retired from frontline duty. Yakov is the stabilizing force of the series, bringing hard-earned wisdom to the other characters.

Aspect Warrior Loriel Zig - Young, brash, and slightly naïve, his often ill-considered actions tend to make the plot more complicated. He joined the Arbites because, in his own words from the first film, “I have a burning need for GREAT JUSTICE!” (The famous response from Yakov? “The Medicae have many treatments for burning sensations.”)

Senior-Sister Katana, of the Order of The Watchful Sword - Obsessed with Brother Yakov, who fought beside her mother in the ambush that wiped out the Steel Heralds, this young hot-shot from an Order Securitas is a capable investigator. However, her desire to prove herself to Brother Yakov often leads to her investigations working at cross-purposes to his. Part rival, part ally, all unrequited love interest, she pushes Yakov into uncomfortable situations while he tries to mellow her out. Her character has become more nuanced over the film series, going from a one-dimensional stalker who, in her words "is the kind of person that get called to put rebel Astartes down" to a more competent, if still quirky, associate. The producers are well aware of the fans that want them in a relationship, and constantly torment them with teases such as almost-kisses and failed seduction attempts. The closest the two have ever come to having an actual romantic moment is the two holding their helmets together right before the big space combat scene of the tenth film.

Interestingly enough, there is an Order of the Securitas named the Watchful Sword, and it does count amongst its sisters one Senior-Sister Katana. Who looks and acts nothing like the character, and refuses to change her appearance to match. That job, she argues, belongs to her younger sister Tanto, who does look and act like the character, but belongs to an Order Solamens.

Rilus Vespid - Introduced first in the failed reboot that was the six film after representation issues were raised, he was just about the only part of said film that was actually liked by audiences and was therefore reintroduced in the seventh (with a slightly modified backstory). Rilus is a Tau Inquisitor of the Minor Ordo Altum, and has that very Tau cynical optimism. He often teams up with Katana, and his character alone has tripled the number of explosions seen on-screen, as he uses drones to drop detpacks on his enemies. His actor is just as good at improvising lines as Yakov’s, leading to them combining forces to use the official sets and props to film their own parody of the series in the middle of filming the eighth film.

The Shattered Banner - The conspiracy that serves as the driving antagonist of the series, seeking to break the Imperium apart as it thinks the entire setup is too large to succeed.

Explosions - Seen so often that even the cast references them as a character in actor commentaries. Currently the biggest explosion of the series comes from the climax of the tenth film, where the main characters smuggled an Exterminatus warhead onto a Chaos-corrupted battlecruiser trying to crash into Craftworld Altaioc, and used the ensuing shockwave to propel themselves to safety atop a hullplate.

In greater Imperial culture, the series is best known for its very memorable lines, which often find their way into even the Emperor’s speeches (he has, unintentionally or otherwise, quoted the entirety of Brother Yakov’s “Fuck The Apocalypse” speech from memory on three separate occasions). One line that has been quoted by almost every Astartes alive is “Nowhere in the Codex Astartes does it say that I have to put up with your shit”, to which nearby Eldar respond with “Yeah, but you have to put up with yours until the new filters get here”. If nothing else is released, this series has still earned its place in history.

The Book of Lorgar

Perhaps more than any of the other primarchs, Lorgar reacted the most negatively when he learned of the existence of Chaos and the Chaos Gods. Lorgar considered himself first and foremost a man of peace, a man of unity, and here were a group of beings that not only profaned everything civilization stood for, but in their own way profaned the very virtues that made mortals great. As a result, within days of being told of the true nature of Chaos by the Steward, Lorgar was at the Steward’s quarters imploring the Steward, with all the fire only an inspired zealot could bring, to allow him to write a book to teach mortals how to steel themselves and fight off the depredations of these false gods. Here was an enemy that not only represented to him all that evil in the universe, but one that he could fight with his most powerful weapons: his words.

At first, the Steward was reluctant to give Lorgar his blessing to write such a book, given that he did not want to set up any state-sponsored religion and Lorgar had very prominent Katholian leanings, until it was pointed out to him by Malcador that the only other person really qualified to write a book for Imperial citizens on how to resist Chaos was Magnus the Red, who would probably write a version that would be considerably more…chummy than the Steward would have wanted. (Indeed, it may have been this conversation that inspired Magnus to write his “Gods and Daemons: A Spotter’s Guide”, for people who dealt more closely with warp-related phenomena and would probably be interested in more specific knowledge than how to ward off Chaos in general).

The Book of Lorgar (or as it is sometimes sarcastically referred to: “Resisting Chaos 101”), is the average Imperial citizen’s go-to guide for how to deal with Chaos and other commonly encountered warp phenomena. The book does not go into technical detail about many aspects of Chaos, but acts more as a survival guide: summarizing what you are facing, why it is bad, and how you can survive it. Although it is primarily considered a work of Lorgar (to the point that it is called the Book of Lorgar, rather than its official, much longer title) the work was also partly a product of Magnus the Red, with whom Lorgar consulted extensively while writing the book. In addition, commentary on earlier drafts was sought from the Steward and all of the surviving primarchs, as well as some well-known Eldar individuals. The book has heavy Katholian leanings, largely in part due to having been written by Lorgar, but the book does take pains to point out that many of the methods proposed in the book are applicable to all religions and how to adapt them to most of the major religious beliefs practiced in the Imperium at the time it was published (this is thought to have primarily been the Steward’s hand at work, keeping Lorgar from getting too overly supportive of one religion).

It is said that late into the writing of the Book of Lorgar, the manuscript suddenly took a very surprising change in tone. This version, later known as the “Black Manuscript” claimed that not only was the Steward the savior of mankind, he was the avatar of a benevolent god or else a prophet for some higher power. It is not known who brought this version to the attention of the Steward (there are several possible options), but it is known that shortly after Lorgar finished these changes to the manuscript, the Steward requested to speak with Lorgar privately.

The Steward told Lorgar that for all his achievements, all that he had done for Earth, for humanity, and for the Imperium, he was not a god and did not want to be worshipped as such. At first Lorgar denied the Steward’s claims, but eventually the Steward convinced him otherwise. He told Lorgar that the entities that many less advanced beings would have called gods Lorgar had called nothing more than “bottled-up Warp farts”. And perhaps more poignantly, the Steward told Lorgar of his failings. Yes, the Steward had accomplished many great things in his lifetime, but he was far from perfect. A god, he told Lorgar, would have been able to avert the great armies of the Beast and have ended the war without subjecting the people of Earth to near-extermination. A god, he said, would have been able to save Sanguinius.

Having been convinced by the Steward’s words, Lorgar deemed all of the copies of the “Black Manuscript” heretical and ordered them burned. However, rumor has it that one copy of the “Black Manuscript” was secretly saved by Magnus the Red, for “historical posterity”. However, as of the 41st millenium no such manuscript can be located, and if it did exist, it is probably sitting in a dust bin on Ganymede.

Imperial Codenames

The practice of keeping files under obscuring names, or giving them a reference name, has been common to almost every race of the Imperium since they evolved even the basics of data warfare. Sometimes they are weak, sometimes they are strong, and sometimes... they're just weird.

The Adeptus Arbites has set the standard with a multi-part scheme: Certain classes of information are given a randomized three word subject structure (Metal/Color/Flower is used for files that deal with other Imperial organizations, while Color/Sector/Predator is used for criminal organizations), with a randomized adverb-noun combination. For additional security, the adverb-noun parts are passed around between unrelated files with a Two-digit+Letter ID attached.

The Imperial Guard and Navy prefer a more direct Adverb-Noun structure for operation names, and otherwise use the Arbites method, removing the information classes part, but assigning particular words in the first position to different subjects (Which lead to the 4th defense of Armageddon being designated as COBALT COBALT COBALT (Cobalt Cobalt 27Co) Operation BLUE METAL).

The Inquisition is a mixed bag, with each Inquisitor providing his own codenames. Many use the Arbites method in its entirety, while others go esoteric. One used very direct names, on the premise that nobody expected it. Another named their files entirely in insults (She applied "Operation Fuck the Fucking Fuckers" many times, and yet remained a virgin for almost her entire career), and yet another named every file after pornstars (This lead to great consternation when the JUBILEE BREEDER file was presented as evidence against a cult).

The Dark Carnival

Almost certainly not it's name in the High Speech of the Eldar people. It is an everlasting party that dates back as far as Imperial records can show and if the rumors of the Eldar are to be believed may have started in the old Eldar empire.

In the old days it traveled from world to world via the Webway and was the single greatest gathering of The Great Harlequin's followers in the galaxy. Now it travels across Imperial worlds and the Craftworlds lending weight to the Biel-Tan opinion that it is an Eldar Imperium and just coincidentally has a lot of humans living in it.

The Carnival is seen as a mixed blessing by most worlds. On the one hand it brings an upturn in business and tourism but on the other hand it brings with a lot of ninja clowns and hangers on.

Where does the drink and the music come from? Nobody but the clowns know and they claim that it is provided by their god.

The Carnival only ever visited Old Earth once in early M33. In that event, the Adeptus Arbites decided to retroactively issue every xeno involved with a temporary permit. It was either that or try and arrest them for trespassing as Old Earth is considered human holy ground.

Only once has an outright attack on the Carnival been committed and recorded and that was under the orders of Goge Vandire after he went off the deep end. Casualties were great and disturbingly one sided.

The Dark Carnival also traveled to Krieg once. Once. In defense of Krieg the Dark Carnival was only given a warning barrage, barely any casualties at all.

The Carnival goes where it wants, when it wants and respects no authority but their strange god. It is not outright malicious but should be considered dangerous if approached without caution. This does not stop revelry seekers, human and xeno alike, joining in the festivities. Harlequins join and leave the party as they see fit but the Carnival endures.

The Iron Storm

Eldar are typically regarded as snooty, straight-laced, and prim sorts. The archetypal interaction between eldar and human (At least in the minds of humans that have never met Eldar) is the idea of the naive if psychically potent craftworlder meeting the rough and tumble world wise human. Hijinks ensue, misunderstandings are overcome, and the human learns to appreciate the finer things, and the eldar learns to relax and stop being so stuck up.

Any particularly enamored of this popular myth are due for a terrible shock if they ever meet the Eldar of Saim-Hann. Wild, aggressive, and barely civilized, the only commonality with the popular conception of eldar is arrogance, but it is not the quiet kind of arrogance that looks down its nose at you for choosing the wrong fork at a dinner table. It's the arrogance typical of the elite that have earned their position by risking death and coming away (Mostly) unscathed. Saim-Hann seem to have a contempt for death that unsettles their peers among the craftworld eldar. Every generation since the rescue of Isha burns with jealousy at their honored forebears that had the chance to raid Nurgle's Garden, and wish for a chance to prove their worth with glorious deeds.

Saim-Hann eldar don't particularly respect humans- then again, they don't particularly respect anyone. In a way that is almost egalitarian, they do their best to insult everyone- if you can withstand the constant barrage of verbal abuse, you will find that they are, mostly, well meaning if the situation calls for it. Getting mocked mercilessly as you bleed out by the Saim-Hann warrior attempting to rescue you is an experience that few forget. And they don't spare their own kind. A Saim-Hann warrior that wrecks his jetbike from a dangerous turn can look forward to years, perhaps decades of torment from his fellows.

Perhaps this, more than the sense of adventure, explains why there are so many Saim-Hann that forsake their craftworld to join the ranks of the Path of the Outcast.

But, for those respected by the Saim-Hann, there are few better friends. Though most famously expressed by their aggressive kinship with Leman Russ's get, there are many such examples of Saim-Hann friendships forged in the heat of battle or competition. That is one of the few begrudging virtues craftworld eldar can grant the Saim-Hann, they are not sore losers. As long as the competition is fair (Or rarely, if the cheating was particularly novel or brazen) Saim-Hann shall celebrate winners.

Which explains their love of racing. Though other craftworlds lost their traditions of racing from the Fall of the Eldar in light of the scourge of Slaanesh, Saim-Hann in their typical contempt of death embraced it and kept the traditions alive. From foot races through the deserted and dangerous lost webway cities to roaring races on jetbikes across the whole of the craftworld with no concessions for traffic, even to their own star vessels between battles seeking to round a system on a single solar wind, the Saim-Hann have made an art of the race. The only thing better for Saim-Hann warriors than victory in the race is victory in battle, and they are short of neither.

And yet, there is one competition that young Saim-Hann might dream of more than battle. The infrequent Saim-Hann tradition of "the Iron Storm." An inadequate and literal translation from the Eldar language into primitive Gothic. The Administratum, forced to keep track of it to properly record the damages and fatalities, have classified it under the relatively benign name of "The Saim-Hann Transgalactic Webway Race." Survivors call it "the Suicide Ride". Saim-Hann call it a good time.

The details are sketchy- the last time an "Iron Storm" race was invoked was three hundred years ago, and each race is far from uniform, however there is a rough idea of how it is supposed to go. Rumor has it, when the auspices are right and a hero must be chosen (Or, the more cynical theorize, when Saim-Hann scrapes together enough bribes to make the famously fickle and jaded followers of the Laughing God cooperate) the Harlequins shall send invitations to the most worthy and most daring to engage in a race. All participants must provide their own vehicle, but the definition of "Vehicle" is open for the individual participant's determination. At one point, history recorded, a particularly flamboyant eldar corsair brought a voidstalker battleship to the race- he fared poorly at the terrestrial checkpoints, but he got points for style. More than that though, this race is open to everyone. This includes other craftworlds, humans, space marines, tau, ork speed freeks, dark eldar kabalites, even rarely those tainted by chaos, and at one point there was confusion if the genestealer cult that had taken over an Imperial light cruiser that drifted into the starting line counted as a participant but the situation resolved itself tidily with them self destructing.

Saim Hann runs the race with the assistance of the Harlequins, having it start at their personal webway portal "The Serpent's Mouth." Tragedy once marred their competition as an attack from Crone World eldar once took advantage of their relaxed state at the start of the race and caused horrid damage. Saim-Hann did not stop their practice, but now they arrange a formidable security net before gathering. Any that try to take advantage of the festivities to attack the Saim-Hann earn themselves a terrible enemy for the rest of their short lives.

A season long celebration opens the festivities as racers of appropriate caliber are gathered. Unlike other races held by Saim-Hann where invitations are hard to gain, this race is quite open. Half of the participants are chosen by Saim-Hann, and the other half are chosen by the Harlequins who make the entire thing possible. The only qualification is that the racers are skilled. This can lead to quite a collection of species. Orkish Speed Freeks, Dark Eldar Kabalites, Kroot maniacs, Demiurge engineers, increasingly uncomfortable humans, and rumor has it other, darker sorts can be found in the collection. For the time being, the racers find themselves in the middle of a celebration solely for their sake, rubbing shoulders and avoiding sabotage.

As this occurs, troupes of harlequins roam the webway placing observers and checkpoints inside the webway and outside. They pray to Cegorach, invoke the Cosmic Serpent, and on occasion duck bullets as inevitably the guidance of the gods lead them to set the route through some of the most dangerous places in the galaxy. Warzones, the event horizons of black holes, through a tyranid swarm fleet, scraping along the Eye of Terror. It is designed to be a remarkably lethal affair. Oftentimes through the history of Saim-Hann, there are no winners, as every competitor has lost their life.

For some, the race is a chance at prestige, the ultimate test to have one's name in a select list of immortal names that shall ring through history. However, most that accept the invitation do so with the promise of the prize- almost always unique, and priceless beyond mortal comprehension. The previous race was rumored to have as a prize a day within the famed and mysterious Black Library of the Eldar, claimed by Ahriman of the Thousand Sons- though he has not yet reemerged into the public eye, people are confident he's still alive. A day is a matter of debate when it comes to the webway and warp.

The Starchild Prophecies

The "Starchild" prophesies of the Eldar and humans are a nebulous collection of texts transcribed from numerous sources, many not from origins considered conventionally sane.

Although they are all categorized under the title of Starchild the majority do not make mention of that theoretical entity by name although it is the most numerous outcome. Whether this is due to actual revelations or cultural osmosis imprinting a foreign concept into something the mind is familiar with is impossible to prove. Especially as most such prophesies are collected from scribbled scraps inherited postmortem. Indeed most of such would be considered "visionary static" were it not for some level of consistency across light years, cultural boundaries, time and even species.

The predictions are united in their belief that Isha will in time become with child with the child of the Emperor. The details and circumstances of conception vary wildly. Some make no mention, some claim it is part of some Isharite ritual, some say under auspicious omens and stellar alignments and some say that Him on Earth will die and this will be his final free act. Again, circumstances of death range wildly.

The child shall be born and there again the prophesies diverge. Some say it shall be some sort of Eldar death god/protector god of the dead but usually not actually malevolent, some say the child will be Eldernesh reborn, some say that it shall be the Perfect Child that shall succeed the Emperor be that had died before the birth or transferred his immortality and so died a single lifetime after. Some say that the child shall be the first of four that will ascend to the warp and throw the Dark Gods from their cruel thrones to take their place as better deities, Isha's final revenge for her captivity. Some say that the child will be stillborn and that with it all hope will die.

All that is known is that no prophet sane or mad has received the vision more than once and no two vision are completely identical.

The possibility that it is all a ruse by the King of Lies for unknowable ends is not to be ruled out.

All such possible visions are to be transcribed and an unadulterated copy sent to the nearest Adeptus Arbites collection point.

In nomine Domini.

The Trial of Idrathal

The events that led to what would be considered M33’s “Trial of the Millennium” began with what should have been an absolutely normal military operation on the planet of Thanoa. The planet was rebelling under the influence of the Dark Gods, though the Governor of that planet had been so disgruntled that it had only taken the merest of whispers from the Chaos to convince the planet to rebel. As a result, the fighting on Thanoa was less daemons and cultists and more booby traps and asymmetric warfare. The planet had an extensive series of bunkers and tunnels just underneath its surface, and as the Imperium fought to control the planet it was necessary for the Imperial Guard to clear out these networks to flush out the rebels.

In order to in clear the tunnels on Thanoa, the guard regiments stationed on the planet were divided into smaller groups in order to sweep the underground network of rebels and booby traps. One of these squads was composed of ten human Imperial Guardsmen and one Eldar auxillary named Idrathal. After clearing a chamber filled when actual members of the Lost and the Damned as opposed to merely rebels, Idrathal went to watch the entryway as his human comrades secured the room when he heard a tiny click. Idrathal had heard that sound far too often over the last few days to be able to recognize exactly what it was: the arming of an improvised bomb. Looking up, Idrathal saw he had activated a motion sensor tied to a cobbled-together anti-personnel mine. Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Idrathal was fast, but there was no way he could throw himself out of the way of the bomb in the close confines of the narrow passage, much less warn the others of the danger at the same time. Idrathal was just able to turn to his comrades and yell out “bomb” before everything went ploin-shaped.

However, at that moment, an Eldar Warlock appeared, grabbing Idrathal and dragging the two of them into the nearby hallway. All ten of Idrathal’s squadmates died in the blast. Idrathal was furious, and demanded to know why the Warlock had done what he did. The Warlock replied that he had some talent in seeing the future, and he had seen that Idrathal was about to die and did what needed to be done. It was not like Idrathal should be concerned, the only ones who died were mon-keigh. This did not assuage Idrathal, who said that it had been his choice to die in that moment, and the Warlock had no right to interfere the way he did.

That should have been the end of it. The battle for Thanoa had been so chaotic that no one would have noticed the death of ten humans to a booby trap. But Idrathal insisted on making a point, and there was just enough evidence of foul play that the Imperium could not sweep this incident under the rug. By his own request, Idrathal was arrested and to be tried by a military tribunal, for the purported murder of his ten squadmates. The jury would consist of twelve individuals, six human military officers and six Eldar autarchs. It was acknowledged that with an even number of jurors it was possible the trial would end in a deadlock, but it was the only way to ensure a fair outcome by the standards of both humans and Eldar.

The trial caused a ruckus in many aspects of human society. To human supremacists, particularly those who did not know that an Eldar had brought charges against himself, this was just further proof that the Eldar were only out to save their own skin, no matter how many bodies of their allies they had to step over to do so. For the Eldar, the implications of this trial were more grave. For many years, there had been a general sentiment among many sections of the Eldar populace that humans were considered expendable. “Better that a hundred mon-keigh die to save one Eldar” had been a common saying behind closed doors in many craftworlds. However, this aspect of Eldar society was something that had generally not been made public knowledge to the non-Eldar parts of the Imperium. Acting like a superior species was one thing, but actually going to far as to be willing to sacrifice your allies to save yourself was something that would threaten to tear the alliance apart. Even the Steward and Isha were asked for comment, though both said that they were not going to say something that would prevent justice from taking its course.

At the trial, several things rapidly became clear. Idrathal had been much closer to the deceased guardsmen than anyone had realized. He had not just been assigned to the same regiment as them, he had trained with them and knew them personally, to the point that the eleven of them had volunteered to form a squad when the division was split up to clear the tunnels. Additionally, although some had dismissed (or denied) the idea that a Warlock had been present, evidence indicated that the Warlock had actually been there. Although Idrathal had been offered a human lawyer or a representative of the Path of the Judge, he declined. A human lawyer would make it seem like the trial had been motivated by human interests, and an Enforcer would merely work to make sure Idrathal got off scot-free. As a result, Idrathal represented himself at the trial, though with a few legal advisors. Not having walked the Path of the Judge, Idrathal was prone to making legal blunders and over-representing himself, but had enough simple charisma (at least, by Eldar standards) to resonate with the jurors and the general public.

However, Idrathal was also canny enough to know the political implications of the trial, and use them to his advantage. This was best represented in the question he posed near the end of the trial, the one that would end being the most historic statement of the entire affair. Something that, although not directly referring to the topic of Eldar supremacy, struck deep at the heart of the issue.

“If an Eldar was willing to sacrifice their life in the knowledge that it would save a thousand other Eldar, would that be morally acceptable?”

Here was the same question that had plagued the Eldar all throughout the trial, but worded in a way that the Eldar could not simply dismiss with claims of being a superior species. Idrathal said that he worked with the humans he called comrades not only out of personal connection but because it was to the benefit of all Eldar to do so. Idrathal knew that those ten could accomplish more on the battlefield than he himself could, and that if he had to make the same choice he would have done it again, because it was for the good of the Eldar. If a choice had to be made between the two, it would have been more beneficial to the Eldar for his human comrades to survive, rather than himself.

The tribunal ultimately voted to convict Idrathal with a vote of 8-4, with one human and three autarchs voting no. Apparently something in that speech about an Eldar being willing to sacrifice themselves for the good of their race as a whole had resonated with three of the old autarchs. Idrathal was sentenced to twenty years imprisonment and to pay restitution to the families of those who had been unjustly killed by the actions on the battle, something Idrathal had personally been planning to do regardless of the outcome of the trial. It was little more than a slap on the wrist, but Idrathal felt that at least some sense of justice had been done.

After serving his somewhat self-imposed penance Idrathal joined the Path of the Warrior, eventually becoming an Exarch. However, he never attained much in the way of respect or military ranking, the specter of the trial constantly hanging over him his entire life. Many of the more anti-human Eldar saw him as a blood traitor for being willing to sacrifice his life for the lives of humans. Late in life Idrathal became a liaison between the Eldar military and the human parts of the Imperial Guard, his reputation actually working in his favor for once. In the mashed-up mess of customs and superstition one could almost call a religion in the Imperial Guard, Idrathal is seen as a figure of veneration. He is seen as a figure of military justice, representing the inescapable hand of retribution for those who died unjust deaths on the battlefield, no matter how long it takes.

As to the warlock who originally precipitated the whole turn of events, and for whom many would say was actually the guilty party in this endeavor, very little is known. The warlock mysteriously disappeared from the public eye shortly after the fiasco had occurred but before charges could actually be leveled at him, and never actually appeared at the tribunal. Some say that he went to join Craftworld Dorhai, where his views would be more readily accepted. Others claim that he was spirited away by some galactic Eldar conspiracy, and became one of the most powerful farseers in the Imperium. The truth, however, is perhaps far more anticlimactic. The warlock lived a full, if reclusive, life and died on the Path of the Seer, though he notably kept his head down to avoid getting on the greater Imperium’s general radar.