Im curious if they've ever spoken about this. Do they have an internal timeline for when they want to release major lore updates. Stuff like bringing primarchs back, or killing off a major named character. That sort of thing. Or do they purely wing it based on how stuff has been selling?

Ever since man became self aware it has had the wish of not being self aware for some moments

40K universe being what it is (awful) I imagine this wish it's even stronger, so it's there any drugs that you know of in 40K?

I remember hearing there was a drug made of crystalized blood from warp tainted worlds, I don't recall what it did exactly but, probably nothing good for your soul

Eu andei pensando muito sobre isso e está me incomodando. A peça mais recente de "avanço" que me lembro de ter ouvido foi o lançamento dos Primaris, depois de dez mil anos esperando o Grande Azul voltar e finalmente autorizar. Mas minha pergunta vai muito além dos Space Marines.

E quanto a tudo mais? As tropas de linha, os tanques, os navios de guerra, o kit básico de um Guardsman regular? O Adeptus Mechanicus trata a tecnologia como algo sagrado e imutável, quase como um dogma religioso, o que mata qualquer pesquisa e desenvolvimento real antes mesmo de começar. Padrões de armas e veículos como a lasgun, o Leman Russ, o Rhino, são basicamente os mesmos designs que eles vêm usando por milênios, sem evolução doutrinária ou de hardware significativa por trás deles, e alguns desses padrões até pioraram ao longo do tempo em vez de melhorar, já que muito do antigo conhecimento de STC de antes da Heresia de Horus foi perdido ou corrompido.

As frotas da Marinha Imperial parecem igualmente congeladas, com designs de casco que remontam à Idade das Trevas da Tecnologia, e qualquer conhecimento que ainda exista para construir novos é fragmentado entre Mundos Forja que se recusam a compartilhar STCs, ou trancado atrás de uma burocracia tão pesada que a inovação é rebatizada como "redescoberta" apenas para evitar ser rotulada como heresia.

Mesmo com Guilliman de volta e liberando os Primaris, isso resolveu principalmente um problema de mão de obra para os Marines, não a questão estrutural mais profunda de doutrina, logística ou nível tecnológico geral em todo o resto do Império. Então aqui está minha pergunta real: existe algum plano coerente mostrado em qualquer lugar no lore, codex, romance ou material oficial da GW, para reverter essa estagnação em larga escala, ou o Império está apenas condenado a sobreviver com pura resistência e números enormes de tropas e navios, nunca voltando a níveis próximos da Idade das Trevas da Tecnologia?

Curioso se há algo oficial abordando isso, ou se é apenas uma narrativa para manter a estética grimdark intacta.

Desculpe pelo meu inglês, não é minha primeira língua.

The Ultramarines are the best at filing TPS reports, the Thousand Sons are the best at being space wizards, the Salamanders are the best at not being total dicks all the time etc. etc.

But what are the Emperor’s Children best at, where they are second to none? I know they are amazing swordsman, but isn’t that the Dark Angels’ thing?

Is there a single role that an Emperor’s Children astartes would excel at better than any other Space Marine that isn’t like brushing their hair or something?

(btw not trying to slander them i actually think they are a cool legion)

We're all aware of how shocked Guilliman was when he woke up. And there exists planets much better off than the standard hive or forge world. Some we would consider paradise IIRC.

Are there any instances where we see a normal Imperial from one of these paradise worlds shocked by the state of the wider Imperium?

So I got into the Warhammer fandom through aD&D friend they suggested me a couple of books the first book Is Ciaphas Cain_ The Anthology told me to read chapter 1 and 2 of this and then start on book 1 and book 2 of Ciaphas Cain and then I told them that I like dwarfs so they suggested me to other books Skavenslayer_ Gotrek and Felix my question to all the Warhammer fans out there is are these good books for beginner and also if y'all have any recommendations for other good books for a beginner cuz I also kind of want to get into the Orcs sorry if I get anything wrong but I believe that Orcs and that they don't say War properly they say it in a different way in their speech is kind of different those Orcs those are the ones I'm talking about the ones that use collar for different things like purple make some stealthy or something like that I don't know I am very very new to the fandom I know about the emperor that's about it

How is it that lasguns can fire i think 150 or more shots before having to recharge but they can also charge them using fire? Wouldn't the battery just overheat?

okay so Sanguinius what actually happened when he met the emperor? In the first version of it I heard about he asked the emperor what if I refuse and the emperor had to make a big speech about saving people to get him on his side but on the wiki it just says he joined willingly without issue but doesn’t give a source. so which answer is currently more cannon?

I think alpharious/omegon/ who ever tf is in charge,saw the writing on the wall.

They gave one look at Huron sector, the amount of systems,chapters and resources that he had and said yup we gotta cut off this guy before it’s to late.

They knew the imperium would be FUCKED if Huron got way with getting more power.they knew eventually he would had fall to chaos so they choose the start the war as soon as possible to avoid a massive headache on the future

"Since I was old enough to hold a las-lance, the elders told us the same story. They spoke of the "Dawn of Ruin"—a cataclysm we were born to fight, against monsters from the dark. For ten thousand years, generation after generation of Yamnin Guardsmen manned the Five-Fold Ringwall, training for a war that never came. We lived and died guarding a myth.

Today, the myth fell from the sky.

Purple lightning still scarred the clouds from the Astropaths' dying scream. Now, the heavens boiled with the blinding crimson of our macro-lasers tearing into the atmosphere. I gripped the edge of my energy shield, its hum vibrating violently up my arm. Down there, beyond the fortress shadows, spiked drop-pods slammed into the ash plains like rusted meteors.

To my left and right, along the endless miles of the Ringwall, a million Yamnin guardsmen stood shoulder to shoulder in dead silence.

I tasted ozone, ash, and absolute fear. I swallowed hard, lowered my bamboo-helmed head, and locked my shield into the phalanx.

The ten-thousand-year wait is over. They are here."

-

📷 Visual : See the Yamnin Infantry Squad artwork & wargear schematics here

DEPARTMENTO MUNITORUM ARCHIVE: TX-904-YMN

SUBJECT: Imperium Nihilus Munitorum Records: Yamnin Sector Overview & Astra Militarum Infantry Regiments

CLEARANCE LEVEL: Prioris-Vermillion — Restricted to Commissariat, Lord Generals, and Sector Auditors Only.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "The strength of a fortress lies in the fervor of its defenders; the height of its walls is built upon the stacked bodies of mortal men."

SECTION I: SECTOR GEOGRAPHY & PLANETARY ECOLOGY

Yamnin was originally a boundless steppe world. Over ten millennia, it was terraformed into an agro-fortress world capable of sustaining a singular, monolithic mega-structure.

Planetary Ecology

• The Golden Oceans: 40% of the planetary landmass is designated as central core agri-zones. Endless fields of golden grain stretch to the horizon, bordered by native steppes occupying 20% of the world’s territory. This wilderness—a legacy left by Primarch Jaghatai Khan—serves as the outermost defense buffer.
• Geographical Wonders: Beyond the grain fields and steppes lies a vast inland sea. Scattered across the landscape are steep, towering sandstone karst pillars blanketed in ancient virgin timber—reminiscent of ancient Terran geological formations.

The Horizontal Mega-Hive: "Yamnin-Jing" & The Great Ramparts Unlike standard Imperial spire-hives that pierce the upper atmosphere, Yamnin features a singular, ground-spanning mega-structure covering 20% of the planet: Yamnin-Jing.

• Continental Footprint: Yamnin-Jing is a rectangular metropolis spanning the width of an ancient Terran continent. It is low-built, consisting of surface heavy-fortress structures over a hundred meters tall and shallow under-hive vaults.
• Unyielding Ramparts: Built in secrecy under direct decree of the Emperor during the Great Crusade, the hive is encircled by five concentric defense works: The Yamnin Great Ramparts. Scaling downward from 1,000 meters to several hundred meters in height, the innermost walls utilize adamantine plating with ceramite reinforcement, reinforced down to plasteel-concrete matrices on the outer perimeter.

The Ultimate Secret: The Terran Webway Gate At the geometric center of the horizontal mega-hive Yamnin-Jing stands a solitary, colossal mountain peak. Crowned by the Sovereign Citadel and Fortress-Palace, its roots extend deep into the world's subterranean dark.

• Linchpin to Terra: Yamnin was originally commissioned during the Great Crusade as a contingency sub-capital. Deep within the mountain’s lowermost subterranean vaults lies a secret Webway portal—an ancient, unrecorded Secondary Gate.
• The Spatial Bypass: The Webway network is a labyrinthine realm so vast that even the Aeldari have never fully mapped its depths. To safeguard the Imperial Dungeon, this border portal does not plug directly into the warp-infested breach beneath Holy Terra. Instead, it accesses an obscure, independent Webway branch—acting as a stealth shortcut to a secure node in the vicinity of the Sol System.
• The Khan's Mandate: Primarch Jaghatai Khan and his elite Kheshig guard plunged into the Webway under absolute secrecy from the Emperor, tasked with holding this vital node from within. For ten thousand years, knowledge of this ultimate mandate has been passed purely via oral tradition among an isolated inner triumvirate: the Planetary Governor’s lineage, the Mechanicus Magos, and the Lord Commissar. The local Inquisition remains completely blind to the truth, constantly deploying assassins to monitor the Governor's lineage for suspected heresy.

(To be continued in Part 2...)

Since they are/were basically created by psychic energy, and extremes of emotion. Or are they something else entirely? I guess in a way most are to some degree.

considering they cannot advance their technology or innovate

is it like "they can only ever build 1969 cadilacs because they only have schematics for them and its illegal to do anything else"

compared to the orks who take the parts and innately know how to put them together?

i am stupid lets not get it twisted so dont feel afraid to explain it in small words.

At the time of the Heresy, the Imperium has only existed for around 200 years, and many of the territories gained during the Great Crusade were acquired far more recently, only in the last few decades/years prior to the Heresy. Many of these territories were poor and isolated, or alternatively, devastated by the Crusade as it progressed. Ultramar and the core of the Imperium might be as well or better developed than they are in 40k, but most of the Imperium is surely nowhere near as populated and developed.

Yes, it's true that the 40k Imperium is horrifically inefficient and some of its technological base has degraded relative to 30k, but for the most part the 40k Imperium has stagnated rather than completely regressed. And on the flip side, over those 10,000 years, most of the Imperium's worlds have known peace. There's been major conflicts prior to the main setting, but the core of the Imperium, and a large chunk of the outlying areas, have had 10,000 years to develop and grow. For example, Hive Worlds like Agrellan, on the fringes of Imperial space, almost certainly did not exist during 30k. The 40k Imperium has vast reserves of manpower and industrial capacity that, while often poorly used, were totally nonexistent in 30k.

After the Great Rift, I think it is debatable whether or not the Imperium Sanctus is more powerful than the 30k Imperium, but given that the modern 40k Imperium has been able to contain or at least slow down existential threats like the Necrons and Tyranids that the 30k Imperium never had to deal with, I think it's still arguable. I'm not sure the 30k Imperium, even with its better technology, bureaucracy, and leadership, would be able to survive even in the short term the threats the 40k Imperium faces.

the king in Yellow has a replica of the Imperial Palace in Pocket Dimension, which contains entire armies, including winged Space Marines and Custodes.

But my question here is whether he actually made them himself or whether they were taken from Terra in some way, and if they were made by him, are they perfect or just soulless clones like the Primarchs that bile made? And do they obey the orders of the king in Yellow, or is their loyalty absolute to the Emperor?

I know the whole thing happened in one book, but I can't buy it.

This will probably be a stupid question since they are all pretty much sh!tholes but if given the choice which Hive City would you want to live in? Are any of them nice enough for any of use 2nd Millennium softies?

I am in the middle of reading the flight of the eisenstein.

There is a scene where The emperor's children, the lunar wolves, the death guard, and the world eaters seem to get together on a barge to discuss battle plans.

There is some dialogue in there that I thought was curious about the astartes interested in seeing the Luna wolves because they were so revered. But then when they get a chance to actually see them, One of them has the thought that the aura of camaraderie that they display seems lacking and that there seems to be an obvious rift or something of that nature affecting them.

Maybe I missed something in the prior books, in fact, as I'm writing this, I'm wondering if I don't remember, do some of the lunar wolves really hate that they are turning on their astartes loyalist Brothers?

They're just, "Following orders"?

I went through the sources and pieced together the hidden truth behind the Damocles Crusade. Here is my summary and analysis:

The figure behind it all is Aun'Va, the Master of the Undying Spirit.

After the T'au made contact and assimilated the human outcasts and exiles, Aun'Va realised that they were lost remnants of a vast and mighty galactic empire. Using his Gue'vesa agents and spies, Aun'Va studied the Imperium and its rulers, the High Lords of Terra. He found out that while powerful enough to drown the T'au in blood, the Imperium was a realm in decline. After the Redemption Wars, the Imperium was exhausted and depleted. It was forced to avoid wars it could not afford whenever it could.

Aun'Va concocted a Kauyon plan to lure the Imperium's forces into Sept Space, where they would be overextended and then hit them hard. A controlled conflict to condition the Imperium into believing that wiping the T'au Empire would incur an incalculable cost.

As bait, Aun'Va masterminded a campaign of espionage and diplomacy on the Imperial worlds past the Damocles Gulf. In what would be termed the Silken Conquests, the Imperial worlds in the Timbra subsector were assimilated into the T'au Empire without a single shot being fired. As the tithes from the region dried up, word reached the High Lords of Terra of human worlds under the thrall of Xenos. Their response was slow, but it typified the Imperium's bellicosity and overwhelming power. The Damocles Crusade was launched.

The Crusade fell on T'au colonies in the Timbra subsector. Aun'Va engineered it so that these colonies would fall after giving token resistance. Made confident by their "stunning" victories, the Imperials pursued the fleeing T'au colonists into Sept Space.

The Imperials subjected the T'au left behind and the Gue'vesa citizens of the conquered colonies to obscene brutalities. The atrocities committed on Vior'los were especially horrendous. All these ruined and destroyed lives were sacrifices Aun'Va was willing to make for the Greater Good.

Using the Warp Drives, the Crusade fleet bypassed the outlying T'au defensive fleets on their side of the Damocles Gulf border and encountered Dal'yth Sept. The Crusade fleet charged forth and bulldozed its way through the outclassed defensive fleet of the sept. Though the Crusade fleet suffered enough significant damage in an ambush at Pra'yen for members of the crusade command to voice the idea of turning back, the prospect of conquering the core T'au world of Dal'yth Prime proved to be too tempting.

The Imperials fell into the trap. On Dal'yth Prime, the T'au, led by their brightest and most talented commanders, dug in their hooves and made their first true defensive action. Though the T'au were prepared for the invasion, the Imperials made considerable gains owing to the scale of their numbers and the fury of the Space Marines.

Farsight and Shadowsun combined their meta strategies against the Imperial invaders. Shadowsun's infiltration and misdirection tactics threw the Imperial forces into disarray. When the Space Marines responded to her attacks, her stealth teams would withdraw, and Farsight would fall on the Space Marines and slaughter them. The T'au counterattack smashed all Imperial beachheads and retook all the occupied territory save for the one defended by the Ultramarines. Had this zone fallen, the Imperials would have been swept clean from the surface of Dal'yth Prime. As it turned out, the Ultramarines had a trick up their sleeves. Identifying the T'au weakness to psychic powers, they convinced their allies to mass-deploy combat psykers against the T'au forces.

The T'au forces were wrong-footed by the Imperial "Mind Science", turning what would have been a crushing victory for the T'au into a grueling stalemate.

Eventually, the T'au would take full measure of the Imperials. Using EMP tactics, the T'au would cut the Imperial invading forces into chunks and begin dismantling the Imperial war machine piece by piece. Furthermore, Farsight cracked the Codex Astartes. Thanks to the Hammer of Dorn's rigid obedience to the codex, Farsight managed to swiftly codify its core tenets from observing them. The Marines' dogmatic adherence to a set of tactics and strategies proved to be their undoing. Shadowsun and Farsight combined their efforts once again against the Space Marines, inflicting heavy casualties.

The Crusade's momentum was being bled out. The promised reinforcements from the wider Imperium did not arrive. A task force carrying a dozen regiments of the famed Cadian 18th sent to reinforce the Crusade was lost in the Warp. The T'au, on the other hand, bought enough time for fleets and forces from five septs to arrive at Dal'yth Sept, more than enough forces to crush the Damocles Crusade.

The Crusade fleet was getting encircled and its orbital control contested, allowing T'au supply lines to be established and to deploy the reinforcements to the world's surface. The Imperial forces were now outnumbered by a factor of 1:100 and increasing.

General Wendall Gauge, the commander of the Imperial Guard regiments, realised that the Crusade's chances of victory were virtually nonexistent. He had his forces secure a starport and ordered an evacuation off-world. Resistance to the evacuation order by the Space Marines and the Inquisition ended when news of Hive Fleet Behemoth reached the Crusade.

As Farsight prepared to encircle and finish off the retreating Imperial armies, orders came from the Ethereals to stand down and allow the Imperials to peacefully withdraw.

Bloodied and shaken, the T'au Empire triumphed in the final reckoning.

As Aun'Va predicted, the retreating crusaders brought word of the T'au's impressive technology and warmaking capabilities to the Imperial rulers. Rather than seeing the T'au as a minor Xenos empire to be crushed, the Imperial war strategists were made to believe that the T'au Empire was a powerful foe whose wiping out would require a massive expenditure of resources and manpower that the Imperium in its current state could not afford. And even should the Imperium commit to it, victory is not certain. The Imperium would adopt the policy of opposing T'au expansion, but for centuries, continuing to the present, the Imperium, outside of small raids and assassinations, never again attempted to invade the T'au mainland.

Aun'Va's gambit worked just as planned. For every life lost in the Damocles Crusade, thousands of future lives were secured. Aun'Va proved himself a grand and visionary statesman, albeit extremely callous in his approach to Utilitarianism. Convinced that his way is the only way forward for the Greater Good, Aun'Va would use the influence he gained in the conflict to cement his rule over the T'au Empire.

------------------

In addition to Aun'Va's Kauyon, the Damocles Crusade provided a necessary diagnostic for the T'au Empire to identify its weaknesses:

-To address their weakness against psychic powers, the T'au tripled their recruitment and induction of psychic races and individuals into their Empire. Now the T'au Empire has access to its own psychic powers wielded by loyal subjects of the T'au'va who will advise them on esoteric matters and defend them against the unknowable power of the Warp.

-Having been outclassed by the Imperial crusade fleet, the T'au navy underwent a period of revamping and reinnovation that saw it transition from a Trader fleet into a competent warfleet.

-The T'au seized the Warp Drives from Imperial wrecks. Reverse engineering this technology led to the breakthrough that is the invention of the Slipstream module, granting the T'au access to Warp travel and FTL.

-The T'au would use the knowledge they gleaned on the Imperium to great effect in their future conquests. In particular, Farsight's Mirrorcodex would be instrumental in the most devastating defeats the Space Marines suffered at the hands of the T'au.

-The Imperium of Man played its part in making the T'au Empire stronger and wiser.

----------------

There is one unforeseen consequence that Aun'Va did not account for. A menace more threatening than all the Imperium's legions combined. A threat that could irreparably sunder the Greater Good.

The rising star of Commander Farsight!

The resentments and suspicions between the two would be stoked into an intense enmity that would span centuries and outlast death itself.

But that's a story for another time.

-------------

Primary sources used:

-Farsight's Codex supplement (Damocles Crusade part + the timeline entry "The Revelation of Kauyon)

-Blades of Damocles (all of it!)

-Farsight: Crisis of Faith (Chapter One, Clash of Empires)

-Farsight: Blade of Truth (Chapter 28)

-Phil Kelly's Farsight podcast (9:30 to 13:10, Galactic Kauyon)

https://www.facebook.com/WarhammerOfficial/videos/the-warhammer-community-podcast-episode-13-phil-kelly-and-commander-farsight/747057312746631/

So recently I’ve finally decided to actually read/listen to the books instead of just listening to loretubers go over them. The first 2 books I’ve read/listened to in order are, The Infinite and the Divine, and Angron: The Red Angel (I know the order of books is very weird). I’ve decided on this one as my third following some suggestions from my last couple of posts on the World Eaters subreddit. Honestly, I was very surprised with how much I’m enjoying this book. Argal-Tal and Zaphyn’s friendship is cool to see because the videos I’ve watched/podcasts I’ve listened to never really go over the friendships between space marines. The opening of the book was also pretty neat with the perspective of Sireenee and the burning of Monarchia. My favorite parts of the book are probably the times Argal-Tal visits Sireenee. So far I don’t really have any complaints about the book and hopefully I won’t have any when I finish it. Next up I’ll either be reading Betrayer or Angron: Slave of Nuceria. Any book suggestions would also be appreciated!

Hi everyone! This post is especially for the girlfriends, wives, or partners of Warhammer fans, but I’d love to hear from anyone.

My boyfriend absolutely LOVES Warhammer. He can talk about it for hours, and I genuinely love listening to him because seeing him so passionate about something makes me happy. The only problem is… I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about most of the time. I just smile, nod, and try my best to keep up. 😭

I’ve tried watching YouTube lore videos, but for some reason they make me so sleepy. It’s not because I think Warhammer is boring. I think it’s just the way I’ve been trying to learn it.

For the girlfriends or partners who ended up getting into Warhammer because of your significant other, how did you do it? Did you start with certain books, YouTubers, podcasts, games, or even painting minis together? (He paints really well, on the other hand, I don't have any experience 😭) Was there something that finally made everything click?

I really want to surprise him one day by casually bringing up a faction, a character, or some piece of lore and actually know what I’m talking about. I know he’d absolutely light up if I did.

I’d really appreciate any recommendations or advice for someone who’s starting from literally zero. Thank you!

I get the impression that the broodmind is quite alien, given how all of their powers. So I am wondering; what are the routes by which a psyker can join a genestealer cult? Are they all press-ganged or do some join voluntarily like other genestealer cultists? Can they be psychically lured?

When going pirating or to battle in general do they take slaves with them?

I read somewhere here that they have human auxiliaries but I'm not a 100% sure that means in raids or battles or both.

Thanks in advance.

I'm under the impression that the most effective way to fight Daemons involves having a certain degree of zealotry, faith, fanaticism, etc., along with the usage of more "emotional" combat, such as melee.

So how do the more practical and less fanatical chapters handle Daemons? Would they be less effective than the more fanatical chapters, such as the Black Templars?

Stetson poured yet another drink, then carefully slid the jug across the thesslewood table to the man beside him.
Werbing was bulky, his large frame barely fit into the chair on which he was sat, and his broad shoulders bumped against Aldron’s white robe with each bellow of laughter or shift in his seat–much to the priest’s distain. Stetson enjoyed watching the two of them bicker whenever he had the chance, it reminded him of harrow-wings play fighting through the giant-trees outside the walls of Eothad city. They sat around a circular table, glossy with varnish and small puddles of drink.
Werbings’ huge and dirty hands reached for the chilled ferrotin container of golden foamy liquid to refill his cup, but it was snatched away by the wrinkled, spindly fingers of Aldron: his shiny rings clanging against the pitcher. Werbing glared down at him.
“Maggot.” He spat through a grey-black beard. Despite his tone, his eyes–as always–squinted upward in a jolly expression.
In Aldrons’ hastiness to steal away the drink, the old man had sloshed a few drips onto the long sleeves of his basilk garment. His angled, wrinkle-ridden face screwed up as if he’d just tasted something especially sour.
“Oh, look what you’ve done Gutton–these robes were pristine before you arrived in this slum.” Aldron then smiled his crooked smile through thin lips and flashed Stetson a look. Stetson returned the gesture, his eyes black and bagged. He was well built too–but not in the same ogre-ish way Werbing was. He wore a mud-crusted camo jacket, inscribed with the horned skull of a garvik on one shoulder; the most common beast to wander the near endless thesslewood. It was laced in dull yellow. There were three very real skulls just like it, hung on the walls throughout the drinking hole, one of which he’d skinned and put there himself. Stetson’s’ trousers, tucked cross-legged beneath the table, matched his jacket–and a crossbolt rested against his chair. It wasn’t loaded, but he carried a handful of flair-tipped bolts in a quiver strapped to his back.
“Daisen skol, shall I rent you two a room down at the Steaming Flower? And why are you calling me by my second name? You sound like my drill sergeant.”
Werbing frowned across the table then glanced sideways at the grinning priest, as if to request for backup, but Stetson was elsewhere; looking past the giant man’s shoulder at a dimly lit table in the far corner of The Beacon.

The homely orange strip-bulbs pinned across the ceiling, and the roaring fire pit in the centre of the drink-hovel had served as a haven for the people of Eothad for almost 60 cycles. A warm place to forget the troubles they would face come morning. There was a smell of sweat, alcohol and firewood in the air. The dark brown tables and chairs–all crafted from the thessletrees outside the city–were encrusted with storied stains and spilled drink: echoes of a thousand nights had by the people who came before. Stetson wandered for a moment if they had dreaded tomorrow as much as he had then. Old posters sat half-peeled from the walls, some spoke of the might of the Astra Millitarum, great flak armoured men marching in unison, black wings of the Aquila at their backs. Other, smaller ones advertised clothing and jewellery, emblazoned with a yellow garvik skull. All The Beacons’ lights and charms couldn’t reach the table in the corner; it was shrouded in shadow, lit instead by a single fading candle.

There was a face there, a woman’s face, features sunken and dark–and the shadows played about them–pushed and pulled by the waning candlelight. She looked tired. Her blue eyes glistened while she stared into her drink. Stetson could see her hair through the darkness, it was grey-brown, with thin strands of gold imbedded deep into the thick locks. He could just about make out the symbol on her dark grey uniform: a large golden eye, looking down on a black pick. A miner. She didn’t look up, instead her eyes moved slowly to a small copper watch that sat upon her table.
“Ais! Are you even listening?”
Stetsons attention snapped back to the conversation. Aldron looked intently at him, one his grey eyebrows raised.
“I wouldn’t go for that one my son–she looks half mad.” He glanced at the woman in the corner. Werbing shuffled, bumping Aldrons shoulder and the old man frowned at him before speaking again.
“Besides, they never let you leave that blasted greatwood often enough to have a life like that. You’ll be shooting and skinning until you’re old and grey.” A smile cracked across his face. Werbing leaned forward and spoke.
“You’re right on that one usilas; I put in my request for leave almost two years ago. Day in and day out I’m plodding about at the top of the walls, sweating my karking balls off. All I need is one bloody signature. Makes you wonder what the scribe-shits are even doing up at Iraeus.”
Stetson looked to the garvik skull on the wall. He remembered that one well, its bleating after he stuck it in the neck with a bolt, the dirt and leaves it kicked up while scrambling to escape from a muddy bog–but most of all he remembered that look in its eyes; the wild, tortured stare of an animal doomed to die. Please. It had said to him. Please. Compared to that, the work he did after with his skinning knife seemed almost pleasant. Her eyes were the same.
“Trust me Aldron, I’m not interested in anything like that. Nor am I ready.”

His mind was always in the woods. There was a time he enjoyed walking among the trees, naming the many kinds of birds and beasts. He would occasionally stick one and take it home for a hearty meal; before using the hides to carve out a living in the shanties at the base of the wall. It had slowly devolved into excess. His quota of pelts had steadily increased with planetary traffic, as more and more caught wind of the quality garments that could be found in Eothad Hive; the simple beauty of a hunt in the woods turned into something foul and monstrous by the inevitable bloat of industry. It had overwhelmed him, to the point he had gone to a priest for forgiveness by the God Emperor.
Werbing leaned back, his cheeks round and rosey. “I still can’t believe the fact that you called the old Beacon ‘a slum’. I’ll be having no disrespect for this glorious place.” He gestured broadly with his arms. An ocean of sound flowed around them: the murmmers and shouts of dozens, most of which still wore their work-garb, with a wearied look about them. Some laughed, some were deep in conversation, others in heated arguments. There were two flak-armoured men, red faced and sweat soaked, that scuffled in the far corner of the room.
“It’s nothing like the drink-holes of the Iraeus district, that’s for sure.” Aldron looked around the place, and his eyes daggered several of the clientele.
“Yeah, the prices aren’t either you old crone.”
The priest chortled.
“Anyway, I’d look just like her if I couldn’t come here with you lot every night. I mean that.”
Stetson smiled, and he reached over the thesslewood, to pat Werbing on his shoulder. “Couldn’t have said it better myself big man.”
Aldron looked at the two of them, his eyes now warm and his smile less crooked.
“I suppose you have your moments, Gutton, even if we don’t see eye to eye on things now and then.”
“That’s mostly cos’ you’re so bloody short usilas.”
The two men chuckled at each other whilst Stetson shifted back into his chair. He looked to the dark table a second time, and the woman hadn’t moved an inch; her eyes stared through dancing shadow into her cup like it was the end of the world, before they flicked again to the watch at her side.

He then brought his chilled mug of kre-brew up to his lips and tilted the drink back, gulping down the last of it.
“Shall I go up and get another round?” A few specs of foam flew from his stubble.
“Is that a serious question?”
“I wouldn’t object my son.”
With a groan, Stetson rose from his seat, and glanced around the space while he navigated up to the bar. His gaze drifted again to the woman in the corner. Her eyes had moved to the door, and her expression had changed from crazed resignation to something entirely different. It was anticipation, excitement even. Her head had raised slightly; and her back straitened with it. He looked too. A shape darkened the small window embedded in the thesslewood, engulfing the orange glow that had been beaming in from a nearby street lamp. It was large, and a single red eye was visible from behind the glass.
The door swung open, and a tall man wrapped in a leather greatcoat stepped into The Beacon. He recognised it instantly, it was the Boreas supreme; by far the most expensive garvik-born garment sold by the Greatwood Company. He swaggered into a clump of glum-looking men, all shared a tired look in their eyes–all stared down while he strode through them–and a cruel smile played on his lips.
He stood almost a head taller than even Werbing, and Stetson heard a whiring clunk with each of his footfalls. Various cables and metal piping ran from his glowing eye augment into the side of his skull, and a shining golden symbol hung from a chain around his neck, swaying from side to side as he made his way to the bar–a large skull in the centre of the letter ‘I’. The sign of the Imperial Inquisition.

Stetson looked around The Beacon again and realised the drink-haven had fallen almost completely silent, all either looked at the floor, or into their drinks. None dared look the man in the eye. None but the woman in the corner. She was grinning now, a broad beaming smile that stretched from ear to ear was visible to Stetson–through the thick blackness that had fallen over her table, after the last light of the dying candle had finally faded. It was almost sinister, but there was something in her face that struck deep within him, right down into the pits of his soul. There was peace. As though she’d forgotten the mind numbing early mornings, or sleeping in caverns to scrape as much overtime as possible. As though she’d forgotten the black-clad, sneering arbites that accompanied the tithe-masters every month when they came to collect their due. As though she’d forgotten the incessant bleating of the hordes of beasts that roamed the Thesslewood. No more. Her face told him.

No more.

The inquisitor spoke, his voice like the scrape of metal on metal through the vox bead fixed into his throat.
“The usual Gurdon, sharpish.”
The bartender didn’t have a chance to respond.
There was a sudden crack that echoed across the drink-hole, then a wall of raging fire shot from the shadow-wreathed grin of the mining woman. It illuminated The Beacon with a harsh yellow glare and flooded every corner of the room, filling the space with light and heat. The posters displaying overpriced clothes and propaganda were burned to ash. The garviks skulls were freed from their place on the walls. It washed over the small crowd scattered throughout The Beacon, and they were reduced to motionless silhouettes in the inferno. Then it blossomed outward, racing through the windows, then through the walls as a wave of sundering force blew them apart. The flame kept going, up and up and up it went, rising almost 50 metres into the air and casting its light and debris onto the nearby hab-blocks; showering them with a storm of brick and durasteel.
Every soul in The Beacon, from the old scuffling guards to the leering gait of the inquisitor, was incinerated in the span of half a heartbeat.
Small faces rose up into view from the tiny windows of the hab-blocks, awoken by the hail of rock. They were worn and scarred. The orange light beamed onto them, and darkened their eyes with shadow. Some wailed at the sight on the street below: a beloved haven for the lost now gone forever. Some looked angry, their sleep disturbed by the great crack of sound–but a scant few looked down into the pillar of flame–and smiled.
The smoke rose high up into the night sky, a burning pyre from which small embers rained, floating down onto the grey stone of the city streets. The bustling of the drink hole was gone: the drunken shouts and murmuring crowds had vanished into the fire. Silence fell upon the street, save for the occasional distant bleating of a garvik.

As in worlds where they managed to remain incredibly high tech, high culture, affluent. Any hint that any of the millions of human settled worlds managed to slip through the grasp of the Imperium in some distant corner and stave off attacks from any outside force due to incredibly powerful technology? Some place where they survived all collapse and the machine rebellion, Horus, Xenos threats and all? I seem to remember this being discussed where a Rogue Trader stumbled upon signs of such a place, am I just misremembering things? Seems like a statistically likely thing given the numbers.