Bugman

From Ashes We Rise : The Imperium Is Born

Ryzan Archmagos

Character Name: Patrimonia Ghum

Rank/Role: Heirophant Technis of Ryza

Appearance: The Archmagos has a relatively small frame for that position, only about one and a half the size of a normal human. Yet, as one approaches closer they will notice that the Ryzan carries as or even more technology upon their frame than most other Archmagoses. The fact is simply that it is contained within digi-tech, miniaturizing the technology in a manner providing far more efficiency than the great metal bloat that other great figures of the Mechanicum are known for.

Biography:

Patrimonia began life as a vat-grown warrior of an Explorator fleet, a simple Ranger on the hunt for technology. Many an Orkoid or outdated pattern of human were ended by a blast from the arquebus of the soldier. But eventually the Taghmata found its match as a world they probed all but spontaneously spewed Aeldari from concealed webway gates. Though the Ryzans fought valiantly, they were outgunned and outnumbered by the Eldar that appeared from seemingly nowhere to obliterate whole columns of the Mechanicum in a flash.

Though it would certainly be an exaggeration to say the fleet was destroyed in entirety, it was still only a few ships that were left to limp back to Ryza. At this point Patrimonia still had sufficient flesh in their brain to feel some trauma from this, and would be guided by it.

Relaying the precious knowledge accumulated, Patrimonia made it their duty to climb the ranks of the Mechanicum to never be a victim as such again. As a mere Skitarii Ranger, it was a difficult process, but ambition overrode the institutional immobility and eventually the highest rank upon Ryza was attained.

Patrimonia's policy as Heirophant ensured relatively frequent conflict with xenos, for study of their technology was of particular interest. Jokaero were an especially sought after prize, many pens built to hold hundreds of them for the orangutans to create digi-tech. Yet, the Heirophant did more than simply seek scraps with aliens. In particular, much experimentation was done with automata. While v ery careful to not escape the rigid bounds of the Mechanicum's doctrine, Patrimonia's rule has seen Ryza become far more populated with robots than other Forgeworlds, a fact that with passing years raises ever more proverbial eyebrows from the rest of the collective Machine Cult. The efforts to dismiss these concerns were abruptly taken over by the arrival of a new humanoid crashing through a distant Forge of Ryza....

From Ashes We Rise : The Imperium Is Born

REWORKED TWINS

Name: Amunal and Slynn

Legion: The Swords of Truth (The Undying Onslaught prior to Primarch recovery)

Homeworld:
Asclepius and Brahm
The former is a world of high technologies and thought. With every facet of daily life managed by the most advanced of artificial intelligence, every man and woman lives a life of almost unprecedented luxury. It is thus that the only duty that everyone finds themselves having is to simply study ethics, philosophy, and technologies such that when they matured they will spend their days discussing and debating the matters of ethics in global assemblies. At the dusk of each day, any and all consensuses on ethics will be assembled and passed onto the High Polymaths who input them into the firmware of the billions of AI systems on the planet. Part of their bounty however, comes at the expense of the world of Brahm. This is the world upon which Slynn landed.

Located within the same system, Brahm is a world that is medieval at best. Containing practitioners of the arts of the warp, they lost the civil war of their solar system many thousands of years ago and have since been artificially reduced to a backwards state. Several times a year, great raids of the drukharii will arrive in their system, a tithe taken after Asclepian robotshunt down mightier psykers and leaders to ensure the world cannot make any meaningful resistance to the dark eldar who whisk away the people therein. For this service, the dark eldar leave Asclepius untouched, and indeed even pick away at passing Ork Waaaghs for more fodder in their arenas. This world is the one upon which Amunal landed.

Psyker Grade: Iota

Skills/Abilities:
The twins both possess a common set of abilities. For one, their fluid metallic skin gives them a particular resilience against more mundane strikes where more fleshy skins would struggle. Their surface similarly gives them some degree of chameleonic property, wherein they can shift their surface to represent a person of any race, culture, age, sex and other trait. Perhaps their most important trait is their astounding logic and intuition, traits given nurture to compound their nature in their homeworld of great intellect and technology. From first principles they can derive and understand nigh any knowledge they come across from the understanding of the extraordinary biology of an alien, to the complex law system of a new culture, to a piece of archaeotech encountered, to discerning the most expertly crafted of lies. This however has a notorious exception in any matter of the warp. Whenever they try to comprehend the incomprehensible, this creates an almost fatal confusion that will debilitate them for a great time. This effect is also observed when either of the twins finds themselves having believed a falsehood, their skin melting away as they writhe and suffer in a manner proportionate to the untruth they accepted. The twins lack any discernible true psychic power. However they bear what one might consider a pseudo-psionic strength, in what is usually dubbed “The Voice.” Their actual utterances bear power. While this can be expressed in a manner as mundane as their words being far more convincing to a subject than what is merited, more complex expressions appear too. Machines can find themselves soothed of scrapcode infection or a more biological plague may be excised from a mortal. If worst comes to worst, it could be harnessed to simply burst blood vessels by shear volume, and force the minds of mortal men to shut down as they accept inferiority, their words having an influence as pressing as any physical force like gravity.

Appearance:
The appearance of the Twins is somewhat indefinite owing to the nature of their fluid skins, their natural form being androgynous beings of smooth and nearly toneless features of a silvery, poreless, hairless cover. The Emperor designed them so such that they may morph themselves to represent a person of any possible human phenotype. Typically however they will represent their home culture.

Concept:
The Twins of the Hordes of Enlightenment are primarchs that represent what many would consider the ultimate goal of the Imperium; a life of reason, logic, of mankind always seeking to improve upon itself and achieve it true potential. But, at the same time they represent both the hypocrisy in the Imperium’s stated goals by virtue of the means they achieve what they seek, as well as demonstrating the arguable futility of the Imperium’s efforts in the results of their work never truly reaching the aim.

From Ashes We Rise : The Imperium Is Born

Fabricator General

Individual Character
Character Name: Fabricator General Archmagos Salkor Hyfoj

Rank/Role: Archmagos of Olympus Mons

Appearance: As any Magos of many years, Salkor is an ancient agglomeration of machinery. Beneath coils and slabs of plasteel and adamantium there is a small patch of red robes and viewing lenses. He does not have legs or any other traditional means of movement. Rather there are a series of glowing anti-gravitic engines around the area one imagines his "waist" that give him a rather wraith-like appearance as he spins and wriggles through the air with vast crimson robes flowing behind. As well, the Archmagos has an exceptional amount of mecha-dendrites and mechanical tentacles even for one of his status owing to his constant need to interface with as many databanks as possible. For this reason, he is often seen with a baggage train of hundreds of similarly hovering databanks and cogitators, a small army of servitors and lesser tech-priests typically having to follow to maintain these. It is for this reason of immobility that with the years the Fabricator has become ever more stationary, digging ever deeper into Olympus Mons to accommodate his ceaselessly growing lair of servers, databanks, and cogitators.

Biography:
For all of his relevance to the Martian Cult, the Fabricator General is not a native to Mars. He was born near the Yndonesic, to a family of followers of the Singularitarian Brotherhood. The Cult was despite completely Terran origin very similar to the Mechanicum in its belief of transhumanism. Yet, millennia ago, during the adolescence of a boy named Salkor the Cult's presence on Terra was effectively destroyed. But, in the Brotherhood's technological advancement, they had just enough space faring capacity left - perhaps the very last spaceworthy craft on all Terra - to flee the world. Though less than a million managed to flee and only a few thousand survived the exit of Terra's Orbit from crashing into space debris brought on by the Kessler syndrome, many nevertheless managed to land upon Mars for safety.

The vast majority of the landed folk found ignoble ends, very lowly positions within the Mechanicum awaiting them as they struggled to reconcile the few, but nonetheless important doctrinal differences between their own ideology and the galaxy spanning religion born on Mars.

Yet, Salkor was just young but intelligent enough to adapt to the new world he came into. Lucky enough to become a mere Lexmechanic, he was careful to never step out of line through his efforts for fear that his Terran heritage be used against him. His progress through the ranks of the Mechanicum was thus glacially slow as he was careful to not take any major initiative lest a boundary be crossed, and his increases of ranks often came dangerously close to a time when his previous levels of enhancement weren't sufficient to extend his lifespan any further. But despite the pace, he nevertheless did progress through the ranks of the Mechanicum. Eventually becoming a true Tech-Priest, his gradual progress had a small degree of benefit for his future in that he met a great many other figures ascending the ranks of the Mechanicum that was a very crude sort of networking.

It was thus that well over a thousand years over his birth, Magos Hyfoj was by seniority and greater trust of his superior considered first in line to the rank of Fabricator Locum. The Fabricator Locum was far younger than Salkor, and indeed for some years Salkor was his superior before he was surpassed. It was at last that Salkor was in a sufficiently high position that he felt secure enough that the ancient issues of Terran origin from when he was more meat than plasteel were finally beneath him. Now he was a complete inductee into the Machine Cult that had more confidence in his faith than most natives. Now he had gained a great deal of ambition beyond mere survival and comfort, ideas that now seemed alien. Yet, all of this ambition was with the Omnissiah's will in mind.

The first act of major initiative he showed in his career was when he lobbied the Fabricator Locum and the Fabricator General by proxy to send out an armada of Explorator fleets. Recounting the activity of his Terran home that now seemed more like a bad dream than a true past, Salkor convinced the Martian governance that Mars needed to be more proactive lest in study and research within the comforts of their forgeworlds the Mechanicum become complacent, soft, easy to be swept up by less learned but larger civilizations just as the Brotherhood of Singularitarianism was long ago.

Though reluctant to devote some grand exodus to study and explore the galaxy, the Fabricator General at the time nonetheless agreed to the base proposal, partially simply to strengthen ties to distant Forgeworlds that had grown cold with time as communication was made more difficult by the waning number of Navigators and Astropaths in the clutches of the Martians.

It was not too long after this that the prior Fabricator General died, perished by assassination from a Servitor within the flesh of whom were hidden dozens of melta bombs. Though Salkor ascended to the second highest rank of Mars as a result of this, many were eager to point fingers at him believing this to be some sort of play from the refugees of the Singularitarians for perceived slights and mistreatments. But though he bore what he learned from them at the back of his mind he considered them a nuisance from his past. Thus he was happy to make a show of cracking down on them to restore confidence from the rest of Mars in his position. With most of his former brethren dead, he cracked down upon their children he could track down for crimes real or imagined. Though unsophisticated, the show of force was nonetheless appreciated by the many thousands in positions of power that thought an imposter was in their ranks.

Fortuitous then, was that the death of the following Fabricator General came several centuries later, when the last suspicions of Salkor were at last eroded. With his predecessor melting down a reactor he pushed to its limit in the midst of high power demands for a particularly interesting calculation, it was at last Salkor's turn to hold the highest rank of the entire Mechanicum.

Salkor would privately admit to himself that he was admittedly not prepared for the position. Though in recent years he was happy to show great will compared to what he had displayed prior, his entire life having been spent not pushing any boundaries made it very difficult to assume his new position of Fabricator General when he realized just how many different interest groups he would have to balance.

But, balance he would. He ordered the construction of a great many cogitators and other necessary infrastructure to allow himself to do many calculations, careful to likewise build sufficient power infrastructure to not be atomized as his predecessor. With this machinery the necessary computations would be made such that in almost all issues brought to him the Fabricator General could find some sort of compromise.

Very quickly the nature of Salkor's reign became clear to those around him. As de-facto leader of the entire Machine Cult, Salkor was convinced that it was his sacred duty to serve all the children of the Omnissiah rather than to be the monarch of a Martian Empire. He gave great audience to the Knight Houses in service to Mars and the broader Mechanicum, offering them many a new world that the Explorator fleets had discovered. Great deference was shown to the Forge Worlds outside of Mars, a near equal voice given to them as the scions of the Machine Cult's homeworld. Acknowledgement was given to many a sect of the Machine Cult, conflicts over minor doctrinal differences ordered to cease outright hostilities and co-exist.

The rule of Fabricator General Hyfoj would be a curious one with the progress of time. Though the Speaker of the Martian parliament, the majority of his support base was from the greater diaspora of the Mechanicum and its appendages like the Knight Houses, extra-solar Forgeworlds, and minor sects and tiny schisms that enjoyed his protection. Though these factors were important, the critical thing that prevented a vote of no confidence or other means to depose him were cyclical campaigns of public works. Though Salkor did not believe he could herald some sort of golden-age for the Mechanicum, he believed he could at the very least prevent it from falling into a dark age of complacency as a cruel mirror to the unrestrained changes of the dark age of technology. Centuries old infestations of feral servitors were cleansed from many worlds. Explorator Fleets were made to kidnap navigators and astropaths from other human civilizations to restock the waning supply of these critical mutants within the Mechanicum's inventory. Great projects of stellar defence systems were made to prevent raids from spaceborne pirates, committees were set up to create solutions for ancient and yet unsolved scap-code threats and patches in software and wetware were developed. Orkoid worlds were bathed in fire to prevent their rise in threat, and new systems of audits were made to seek out hereteks.

The exploits did not do enough to earn Salkor the favour of the Magoses of the Martian Parliament, but they did enough to curry favour with their underlings who felt their ramifications on their daily lives. It was just as the mechanical eyes of the Fabricator General began to turn to Terra, that all of his attention was stolen by the landing of a gargantuan, silvery child in a crater outside of Olympus Mons.

From Ashes We Rise : The Imperium Is Born

<Snipped quote by Bugman>

Sorry for the delay in getting back to you! Hectic week

I'd be willing to accept a remolding of the skin, that seems reasonable enough for me. The Legion is fine!

There's been another sheet applying for the fabricator General which I think develops the role of the character a bit more. I'm happy to give you a chance go expand on the Fabricator sheet or otherwise redefine them as one of the still very powerful (especially in this fractious era) Forge Masters or perhaps expand the sheet a little, either works for me.

@Ezekiel

Alright, I amended their descriptions to state only their skin is fluid, should be tolerable now?

I was hoping to go through Salkor's backstory in posts on the principle "show don't tell" on the assumption I wouldn't be competing for the role, but regardless I amended it to go through most of his history until the start of the RP.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

“The Least Of These” - Part 1

Part 1 of a JP/Collab from @Xandrya, @PatientBean, @Bugman, @Gunther, @wanderingwolf, and @sail3695

“Just don’t seem right,” Brother Raphael muttered under his breath.

Hadn’t Brother Jebediah preached of the virtuousness in looking after your neighbor before yourself? He heard the words aplenty. “Blessed be the giving of bread to those who hunger. Blessed be the sweat of your brow in service of those who need.” Plain as day. But now, here he was, nudging a wheelbarrow full of bricks through the checkpoint. To hear Brother Jebediah and that Sister Lyen tell it, the hour of deliverance was at hand.

But it didn’t seem right.

Everywhere he looked was misery and suffering. The blackout zone was teaming with desperate souls…grim faced men who fought for their own and bore the pain of not being able to provide better. Their women, stoic and resigned to this fate, taking whatever form of work, no matter how unseemly, to put bread into the mouths of their children. And those children, lost little innocents forced to learn life’s harshest lessons at such a tender age. As an Anabaptist, was it not his mission to “ease the burden of all within thy sight?”

“Just don’t seem right.”

“It ain’t raht, brother,” Joe Hooker explained to the boy. “This is why we’s takin y’all away from here. Git you tah someplace better. Mebee make a new start for yerselves.”

Brother Joseph Hooker seemed a decent man…a man who in quiet moments told of the righteousness of delivering Raphael and his sect from lives of slavery and want. Seemed an-ti-thet-ical, the seventeen year old weighed the job foreman’s words against his lifelong views. Mayhaps he could seek the man out for further counsel. Brother Joseph was not of the faith, but didn’t Brother Jebediah say to “drink well the minds of men and women, for wisdom lies there?”

Joseph Hooker had once belonged to a Protestant sect not too dissimilar to these Anabaptists. But then he really didn’t know what they stood for. The McGinnis family took him and his brothers to Sunday meetings every week. We prayed to God and listened to the gospel frequently. But everyone worships their higher power differently. Joe Hooker would not judge these people because their manner of worship was different from his own. The differences were irrelevant. Freeing them from a life of servitude was paramount.

Sister Emily was a mere girl of nine. She labored ahead, her arms beginning to tremble with the weight of bricks she carried in a burlap sack.

Elias would stoop down, reaching out a hand to grab the sack from the girl, trying to smile as he worked to ease her weight. With the scarf wrapped around his mangled face it was unlikely she’d see much of this but he hoped that the raised muscles of his upper cheeks would still convey some friendliness to the child that might be startled at the sudden intrusion. Given his size, he was already ordered to carry far more than anyone else. While he was certainly stronger than more or less anyone he could see, the tasks he was given were proportionally far greater than what others would have to compensate for. Still, he couldn’t particularly bear to see a child suffer like this. The weight of all he carried cut into his flesh far more than any overloaded bag of groceries could upon hands but at the same time it was nothing compared to what he had experienced at the hands of the reavers and thus could be taken in stride. So much time had passed for Elias to live in such a state, he knew already to not bother wiping accumulated sweat away: it would soak into his facial wrappings. The lack of comfort was something that he kept reminding himself would end soon. It would, it had to. Then he would be free, though this thought brought him less comfort than it may have when he was first imprisoned. It wasn’t exactly that he came to enjoy spending time with the Anabaptists. They were still alien to him after all this time. But in his enslavement the man came to see that this wasn’t all that different to his past time. His lack of freedom now was more apparent, but was he ever free before? Working at the threat of poverty seemed to now not be to different to working at the threat of being disposed of as would likely be his fate just as the other slaves. Now that his situation was so much more clear, all the other coercion he experienced in retrospect now seemed all the more obvious. Perhaps this was a way to cope with his reality, but it felt like a damn good one.

The group of refugees stepped into the shadow of the China Doll, Hook posing as their foreman, himself the back-renter of these ‘wheelbarrows’ filled with bricks. Captain tipped his hat to Joe as he led the group; from where he stood, it looked like the man was working hand over fist to atone for what had happened to Abigail, though without communicating such. Maybe there was some cosmic balance the man catered to, but Cal always preferred an unfeeling, empty ‘Verse.

As he watched, a behemoth of a man stepped up the ramp among the much shorter Anabaptists. Strand’s brows arched as he appeared to be carrying a wheelbarrow’s worth of brick in a sack over one shoulder. He didn’t much look like a member of their sect, by the way he wore a scarf over his face and sheer size. Still, he paused his ascent to help the burden of a little girl who struggled under her own load. With a glance over the stream of the oncoming ‘fugees, Cal turned his attention toward the chain of stations that would lead them to their makeshift berths throughout the China Doll.

Despite his upbringing, Brother Raphael couldn’t help but feel the wary curiosity rise along his backbone. The Stranger had simply appeared one day, much like an abandoned dog attaching himself to the next kindly humans in his path. Though he chided himself for his sinful reaction, there was some comfort in noticing the same from Sister Emily’s wide eyed staring at the masked giant. The man never spoke, though he listened earnestly and gestured in reply, some form of sign language Brother Raphael had yet to comprehend. But despite the mystery swirling about the man, his kindness toward the little child was undeniable and dispensed with no expectation of return. Raphael would think on him some more. And pray.

“The ship’s over yonder, y’all! We are nearly there!” Joe shouted to the Anabaptists as they neared their finish line. He felt like Moses leading his people out of Egypt on Earth-that-was. It made him feel good. The thought warmed his heart and brought a smile to his lips.

...TO BE CONTINUED…

Mercenaries! - A tongue in cheek fantasy roleplay where things often go wrong 18+ language, violence

I'll take commander if nobody else wants the spot

Mercenaries! - A tongue in cheek fantasy roleplay where things often go wrong 18+ language, violence

Somewhat interested, likely play a commoner, a weaselly jack of all trades focused on pure luck as you say

From Ashes We Rise : The Imperium Is Born

<Snipped quote by Bugman>

I quite like the origin and I think the idea of a primarch being augmented to the point it's not obvious that they are even a primarch has some interesting plot points to raise.

The transformation psychic is just a bit much for me, that's a very high end form of psychic power and I'm doubtful given the Emperor's push for the primarch's to be 'human but better' he would willingly design something so non-human as to be entirely fluid in form.

Personally I think it would be more interesting if the second half of the twin was scattered further away, like with Omegon, rather than be a known twin at the start, but that's a preference rather than something preventing me from accepting.

@Ezekiel

Thanks for the review.

When it comes to the fluidity of the form, is the problem absolute? I.e., if it was reduced to simply them being able to remold their face and their skin to be ports, sockets, etc. to interface with technology? If perhaps it was only their skin that was fluid like mercury, rather than them in entirety. If that isn't feasible either they can simply be reworked to just stick the machinery into their meat like normal techpriests.

As for their separation, I'd be happy to rework that to make it fit into the broader narrative too. If the second one also fell on a forgeworld that contacted Mars, but a warp storm would separate them from reuniting? I'm suggesting this mostly because I want their separation to be somewhat of a plot point for them: they would tragically be aware they have a missing half that completes them somewhere in the stars, so close but never quite within reach, which would be made all the more sad when (at least, I would like) one of them stays loyal, whilst another falls to chaos when the heresy does happen.

Aside from the Primarchs, is the sheet for the Legion and the Fabricator fine?

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Hey Bugman, I think both your responsiveness and Elias' responses have been great.

We interact in a few different ways in FF2V:

1. Individual posts.
2. "Back and forth" posting between writers.
3. JP (joint post) collaborative posts involving groups, or in this case, the entire crew and newcomers.
4. Something we haven't explored much is live IC chat, but as this crew develops Wolf and I are both keen to have some live sessions around the galley table.

Our writers all seem to enjoy the JP/collaborative post style, as it gives opportunities to engage in a large group post, regardless of your time zone. It also suits the episodic nature of the game, allowing us to create the scene and write our way through its' conclusion.

We hope you're having a good time, and are all looking forward to much more from Elias. Don't forget to engage us all through Google Chat (I think Wolf sent you an invite?)

sail

@sail3695

Yeah, the joint posts just progress differently to what I have done prior. Regardless, I don't see an invitation to the google chat in my email or the chat in my list of google chats

Warhammer 40,000: Blood & Beauty

Alarika Hreiff

AGE
29

GENDER
Female

RANK & ROLE
Arbites Chaplain

HOMEWORLD
She doesn't know, truth be told, where she was born. But she spent her adolescence and youth in the Schola Progenium on an orbital facility spinning around a quaint gas giant called Pericles III.

PERSONALITY
Alarika is a person of immense faith that lead her to be selected for work in the Ministorum whilst she was still within the Schola Progenium. She is always certain in the rightness of the Imperial cause, in the wisdom of the God Emperor, of his vision and of its future. But, she was born with a questioning nature, which while never applying to matters of the faith, applied to others and herself. Even when meeting or surpassing demanded standards, she is always questioning herself and striving to exorcise failings imagined and real alike. It is for this reason that she has somewhat of a mixed reputation among the Arbites that are her charge. Those that might appreciate the socratic method of sorts she applies to any spiritual and mental problems they might have in resolving their issues will speak of her as the greatest spiritual councillor they could have asked for. Yet those that might be too reclusive or untrusting for her constant prodding and inquests when speaking to them will oft be driven to speak poorly of her.

BACKGROUND
Though scrubbed from any record, Hreiff's parents were faithful servants to an Inquisitor until possession forced their termination. Not seeing possession as treachery for the will of the poor henchmen was irrelevant, the Inquisitor rewarded their service with the removal of their damnation and a secure position for their sole offspring.

Placed in a quiet little facility of the Schola Progenium, Alarika was given a rather typical experience. Different Drill Abbotts would temper each other's kindness and sternness respectively to similarly temper the pupils. After all had mastered the foundational knowledge and physical ability, Alarika found herself slowly losing friends and indeed people she considered siblings in the schola as one by one they were picked off for service in the various offices that were groomed for them from Administratum Clerks to Inquisitors to Tempestus Scions.

Yet as the herd ever thinned, she found herself quite fearful for the future seeing herself not having been selected for any career even as she turned into an adult. She was happy to take as many punches in the training cages as fellow orphans much larger than her, yet in the end always spilled many more confessions of suffered pain. She knew the arithmetic that might be demanded of a clerical role, but ultimately cared not for it in a manner that was a liability for such. Great was her faith, and indeed she was noted for almost ceaselessly asking questions oft to the annoyance of Drill Abbotts. This intersection of physical and mental aptitude almost marked her for an Inquisitorial role in her own right, but there was one thing that prevented such: doubt. Constant queries whether she had failed or not, uncertainty about her and her "siblings'" course ultimately crossed her out of a position in the Inquisition. It was thus that an unceremonious but still respectable one was seen to be a good fit: a Chaplain of the Arbites. Taking advantage of all her skills and to some degree weaponizing what many saw as failings made all including Hreiff herself agree this would be a good life for the woman.

Her first posting to a pleasure world was very, very brief. Not yet used to the etiquettes and other facts of life outside of the orphanage she had spent her life in, she ran her mouth far too much in a tale that had happened trillions of times in the Imperium and human civilization before it: annoyed superiors as a method of punishment transferred her to a backwater as a sort of banishment and exile.

Arriving on Arterium, Alarika truth be told had only inklings about why she was brought to the world, and perhaps for the better as she did not see the beautiful world of scarlet hues to be a punishment of any sort. Still she had gathered enough from her prior posting to exorcise a little more tact among fellow Arbites and thus - though still somewhat of an alien even among the many fellow offworlder Arbites - she has slowly started to call Arterium home.

EQUIPMENT
Ministorum jumpsuit (a modified take upon Priestly robes that could be sealed for the void), eviscerator, autogun, rosarius, psalter, dataslate.

MISCELLANEOUS
Injuries sustained largely in infancy have left her with non-negligible cybernetics. A large part of her vocal chords have been rendered inoperable and thus her speech is a strange assembly of natural and mechanical noises. Her right eye is synthetic as well. The pixellation and microsecond delay of the vision it feeds is a nuisance, but it can work as a light too.

Also looking through pinterest for "scarred woman" really didnt turn up a lot of good results :/