@Perkustin thanks fella, glad you enjoyed it , i will finish the comic one of these days and update it in here!
few more belated updates , also in ma blog. but i like to have it all in one place
Notes on The Venerable Arclight
The long story of this antiquated and dignified tank starts in the dark early days of the early Imperium, when the emperor still walked as a Man amongst us. Designed by the fabricator general of Mars , during the Great Scouring , Its role was to cross the many trenches of Istvaan V seeking out its traitorous imperial army brethren and laying waste to their malcontented plasteel hides. Its Arc generator a relic of great import, as the smaller more compact sister to exalted Valdor Tank hunter, long thought lost during the apostasy that followed .Its history became shrouded in the fog of a ten millennia long war. No one alive knows how and when the bulwarked beast arrived on Praxus, Its possible the revered fortress
was stationed here in some long forgotten war . But if no one can be sure with any clarity when it arrived . We can be sure when it was rediscovered.
First sighted by pdf pvt Lions during the winter months of the "black years" the deplorable and heavy handed repression used by the Adalaise house to remove the many Agri farmers, praxus cultivators, and grox herders from their land ,and into the newly built , Industrialised hab zones , as a manual workforce for the recently arrived Adaptus mechanicus and their innumerable Manufactorums.
Pvt Lions vox transcoder record.
pvt lions "Sir i think i see something by those trees "
Cpl Frenx " look you bloody idiot ,we're the only things out here for at least 20 clicks ,i can't imagine those friggin farmboys are gonna freeze their nads off chasing us out here can you?
pass me those binocs yeh bloody vulgus scum."
Pvt Lions " Sir i saw it again , it kinda big and moving really slow"
Cpl Frenx " hang on i cant fething see anything through these... Oh ,wait.. I see.. turns out your not as blind as i thought.. looks like those Inbred eejits have gone an got themselves a Praxus harvester, bloody slow things though , it will take them a lunar cycle before its anyway near the gates! ...bloody idiots , no wonder they ..
Pvt Lions " Sir whats that blue light ? i thought the harvesters had red ....Pzzttsssssssssssssssssssssssss!
Vox transcoder end transmission.
The Arclight was used with some success against the ruling house pdf, slinking in and out of the many Praxian wild forests, to strike at the heart of their noble repress ors, at the behest of the Vulgus partisans. But eventually a critical feed back loop in the arclights Archaic generator resulted in a total system malfunction killing all twelve of Praxus's most successful rebels in an uncoiled Tesla outburst.
This event marked the end of the Black years, with no heros left to stand up for them the remaining Farmers from all over praxus signed the Plebian treaty.
I the aforementioned land owner, bequeath all worldly possessions
to the Imperium , To be held in liu by the Imperial commander
at this present time
Noble House Adalais Imperial Governor
Bartholomew
de la mar Adalais
I submit my will to the Divine Emperor of Mankind and willingly
agree to the law of The benevolent Adaptus Terra
To be upheld by said imperial Commander.
i also agree to become a diligent worker for the imperium of man
Setting aside any impure thoughts. I shall be pleased to be put to work
for the imperium as to benefit my fellow Man and bring the illuminated
words of the ecllisarchy into my heart .
As a loyal citizen of said Planet Praxus it is my duty to better myself and
and the imperium through hard work in whatever manner said imperial governor deems
correct at this time being a Plebian worker in the Manufactorums of the Adaptus
Mechanicus I shall endeavour to bring the light of the holy emperor into my heart and
mind in all my daily workings.
With the newly governed Praxus in a state of peace the many agri farmers now formed the first manufactorum Plebian workforce but the increasing imperial demands on production forced the overstretched Plebian workforce to be reinforced with huge amounts of vulgus workers repatriated from the nearby Phalanx Hive lower habs. This separation of class and wealth within the Industrial habzones and cities of Praxus has caused many cival uprisings. Especially when the Manufactorums stopped recruiting the vulgus lest they embraced the the cult of the Omnissiah
But even with the constant threat of cival war the antediluvian war machine Arclight has not set track outside the Grande Manufactorum for over 300 years. Its secrets , slowly unravelled by the Fabricator general Vector Rakiel. Technically the Arclight still belonged to the Adaptus mechanicus when imperial governor Bartholomew
de la mar Adalais made a gift of it to tempt the secretive cults renouned Lord Magos Exploratus Vector Rakiel to set up even more Manufactorums on Praxus. It obviously worked as the machine cult has expediently created a wealth of Manufactorums in the past three centuries, no doubt still searching the Praxian wilds for more Military archeotech.
notes on Praxus and the peoples Champion Valrick
Valrick
It was the kind of day where the heat makes you lazy. Kalien's long limbs lolled languid, in the warmth of the hydra systems twin stars. He was lucky to have the day off , not all the manufactorums had closed. Even in this oppressively stifling heat , the former agricultural worlds industrial quarters were still pumping out chemical clouds. It's original summer season , protracted artificially by the intense year on year pollution from the sprawling omniscience factories , who's dense smog hung low like a broiling blanket.
“Yeah I am lucky” he assured himself under his breath.
For if the capitol city was under a bedroom swelter sheet, then the manufactorums were the searing kitchen ovens.
Kalien could only imagine the sweltering humidity , generated inside those torrid cordite and plasteel hell holes on a day like this.
Even in the harsh winter months , when the city rivers froze mid-flow, the manufactorums ran hot.
Their toxic effluent corroding the once pristine canals. Plebians fortunate enough to live close by the heat sinks during winter, now paid the price in perspiration.
The balmy summer months normally a welcome break after the bitter cold , were starting to chore.
People looked back to a time before the treaty , the black years and before the dual vexatious seasons.
He had often heard tell of the time precedent the Aquila held Praxus in its vice like talons, long before he was born , when she still had a third and fourth season. Stories halcyon , talked of , like an old friend that hadn't been seen in an age , but who's time spent together was simple and fun. Elixir memories recalled as cool raindrops hitting your face on a hot day. Praxa tinted nostalgia that only people who weren't there first time around could conjure. Of Autonomy, wild flowers , rolling grass hills and teeming forests alive with multitudes of animals. Red elk , wild Grox and even giant land lizards. Where the only tithes were agricultural , to produce enough meat to supply Phalanx hive with grox burgers and the occasional medicinal or red dye praxa shipments to the Imperial army. Unlike the barren rocky tundra that surrounds the city now, or the palpably oppressive, bureaucracy within.
Prickly heat crept up his legs like irascible fire ants , snapping his conscience back to the present soaring temperature.
“This is going to cause trouble” thought Kalien. The heat en-kindled the tumultuous Vulgus , their discontent raising as ineveitably as the temperature. Friction between the work-less proletariat and the manufactorum's Plebian workforce was at an all time high. Whilst , Much to the Imperial governors dismay , production was at an all time low.
It was much this reason, that made kalien so surprised that the Plebian servitude obligationist's (PSO) petition for a forty eight hour rest cycle , had been approved , albeit amended to a twenty four hour cycle, to be taken in shifts over forty eight hours so as to not let the manufactorums stop running. To a Plebian like himself this was as much a gift from the divine Omnissiah himself.
As a level three subjugate ancillary obligationist , Kalien was constituted to work sixty days before the nominal twenty four hour leave was permitted. Only nineteen days into this work cycle. The thought of another forty one night shifts in this relentless heat was excruciating. But it could be worse he acknowledged , he could be a level one and have to work day shifts. None of that mattered now though, with at a good sixteen hours left , life was too short to waste in side the crowded city walls. His exit pass in hand Kalien strolled casually through the huge reinforced ceramite gates. “Happy days indeed “ he smiled a radient smile. The two border gaurds crouched over a ammo crate , dice and creds in hand , didnt even bother to look up , just raised a gloved hand and nonchalantly waived him through.
A pang of guilt shot though him as he ambled past the tripod mounted heavy stubber , its slick gun metal grey barrel covered in a fine sheen of oil and dust.
“ How many Vulgus has this taken “ the morbid thought clung like a magnet until it was out of peripheral vision . Groups of Vulgus are not allowed within fifty metres of any border control sites , he recalled to himself , having to clearly display their papers and aproach in single file along the faded and chipped red designation lines. Plebians had no such hassle a simple exit pass and you were free to wander in and out of the cities at will , of course if you failed to attend your work parole dutifully that privilege could easily be revoked . He thought he noticed a brown stain in the dry dust , and wondered if this belonged to some over eager Vulgus. Kalien didn’t himself know why the Vulgus were treated so brutally. After all not every Vulgus , came from Phalanx, and even of those that did many were now on their fith and sixth generation , some just refuse to worship the Omnissiah , or had lost their Plebian status, not all were hive bottom scum , dragged here to full fill roles that the Plebian's would not or could not do. And I guess if I were brought here on the promise of a better life clean air and good honest labour on an agri world, to be confronted with the squalid wretchedness that is the Vulgus quarter , no work except
IG recruitment and the intolerably permeating gaze of the Adaptus Terra , maybe I would be prone to rampancy? But even as he thought it he didn’t believe the words as the formed in his mind. The Vulgus were scum , they owed no allegiance to anything or anyone , they were all muggers and murders , and would kill you as much as look at you !. If they were not kept in check they would surely run amok and cause no end of strife. He found a familiarity in his words that gave him comfort, and the world seemed in order as he stepped his heavy groxhide boot over the worn blue line.
Kalien stood quite still for moment taking in the surrounding barren beauty, breathing the warm afternoon air deeply in through his nose , until his chest heaved , then slowly releasing it back out in a deep sigh.
“beautiful”
He could barely keep his excitement contained. This was the first time in almost six months that an exit pass and free time coincided with a trip outside. He stood quite still and soaked up the atmosphere , he loved the contrast between the brutaly smooth , ceramite, utilitarian walls of the Praxus prime and the barren and rocky tundra that lay before him. To both sides the wide open expanse of dry grass quilted the rolling tundra to the distant hills and on to the high peaks of the grey mountains. In front of him lay the bulkcrete carriage way , it rolled on in a staright line for almost five clicks then dipped down into the winding lush valleys where the level six attendants and servitors used the giant manufactorum machines to harvest the valuable praxa flowers. A long held personal ambition of kalien's , was to be a level six harvester, and spend every summer beyond the claustrophobic city walls , driving a behemoth and answering only to his biometric servitor. A dream that hard work and good faith in the Omnissiah would no doubt provide for him given time.
Beyond the vally of the praxa flower, where the bulkcrete road swayed east , through an impenetrable unamed forest , lay his goal for today.
A secret place that only he new about , The old reservoir. Built nearly three centuries ago by the Infamous Bartholomew
de la mar Adalais the founding father of the present Praxus. To supply the the then rather small capitol city with fresh clean water. It was a bit of a white elephant as it was only used for a mere six years , until he had repatriated , several hundred thousand migrant vulgus from Phalanx , to the build the newly commissioned manufactorums. The then new reservoir could hardly cope with the huge demands suddenly placed up on it , and was seminally decommissioned and replaced with pipe work to the expansive Deam freshwater lake , 300 clicks north. A feat that required several million vulgus , who subsequently became the first unemployed vulgus on Praxus, An event that brought Praxus to the attention of a young Inquisitor Vendrake.
Fortunately for Kalien the reservoir was built upon a freshwater spring , he could not imagine a better place to shirk off his worries for few hours, than bathing in the cool crystal clear waters of the secluded sanctuary.
The walk was tough. He could have made it easier on himself by using the carriageway , or even hiring a grav bike. But the latter was expensive, and besides he wanted to experience all the sights and sounds life outside the walls had to offer not be encased behind a plexi glass sponson.
His heavy boots clunked and his ankles twisted as he slogged over the rocks and stones of the tundra, and into the trudging damp quick grass of the valley below. In the distance where the road veered out of sight , he saw the gnarled trees of the unnamed forest's edge. A short-cut that shaved hours off the main route adding even more desirable bathing time.
A hard earned hour later , his sweltering hide gasped for air, beads of fresh sweat ran down his back like a stream , soaking the Mechanicus red coveralls a dark brown and mingling with the previous hours salt stained pattern. He cursed himslef for not bringing more water as he sipped the final dregs of tepid liquid from his hip flask.
He had been here half a dozen times , but now he saw it again he hesitated . The twisted black roots grasped out at him like the tormented souls of its past. The reservoir lay a mere fifteen minutes amble through the inky black forest , nothing compared to the 2 hours plus round trip on the carriageway.
But still he waited , trying to draw courage from both suns like a solar battery on half charge.
Valrick.. The name was innocent enough , but the stories that surrounded that name was more than enough to strike doubt into any man.
A mythical legend amongst the downtrodden Vulgus. A true hero that paid more than lip service to his title , a kind hearted man of honour who champions the weak and desperate. The wild man of the Forests who tore retribution through the elite upper classes and stalked fear into the hearts of every high-born.
For every rule there is the exception , he , that rarest of things a noble Noble
Valrick the terrifying to his enemies and Valrick the champion to the Vulgus
Or so the story goes....
The unlucky thirteenth child of King Ymir and queen Modir, Valrick was born Under the name of Prince Naroke Valrick on a distant pre blackpowder world called Che Austri. Rediscovered by Imperial Rogue Trader Ulsheki kindheart. Entrusted to Ulsheki by his mother to protect the boy from a superstitious ritual slaughter , Valrick travelled upon Ulsheki's armada “the diligent womb”back to interior space , Given a fenrisian wolf cub to help sooth his culture shock , the young hunter soon became introverted and withdrew from contact with anything but his faithful cub Rag.
Worried about the physical and mental health of the child the ships physician , lobbied Ulsheki to let the boy return to his homeworld . Ulsheki a benevolent man saw in Valrick similarities to his own humble start in life. But ever the business man , Ulsheki refused , not wanting to jeopardise his many commitments over the young boy. In its stead Ulsheki took the growing lad aside and offered him a life aboard his ship , granting the boy freedom when they found a suitable world. The young Valrick had learned many things during his years upon the Armada , about the terrible state of the galaxy and the many horrors within it , his new formed skills although commendable never satiated his thirst for the hunt and to live off the land , something that was never going to be possible if he stayed amongst his new found family. It was only a matter of time before the young man became aware of the insular Argridustrial world Praxus. Ulsheki duly sent an envoy to talk with the imperial commander about taking the boy into custody until one day he might return with a ship bound for his homeworld.
In no time at all , Valrick, for the second time in his short life , packed his belongings and said farewell to his family , to join a new batch of Imperial Nobles in an induction to life in the Noble ninth officors academy , on the former Agricultural planet Praxus.
In many ways the Noble ninth was a perfect match for Valricks unique background , he was born a Noble , and had travelled the galaxy amongst some of its most wonderfully bizarre characters. Gleaning secrets that no regular citizen would be privy to. But his animalistic nature could not be so easily tamed. He longed to roam free hunting and fishing like he did as a small boy on Che Austri , although intelligent enough to realise that even if he could return to his home world , it would never be the same. He needed to find a happy medium and with the Noble ninth and in Praxus he thought he had.
His first years in the academy amongst the other well heeled Nobles went without incident , Valrick eager to progress through the ranks to enable himself to join the Commissars regular hunts. His ability to talk plainly and see things clearly was a great advantage in the hunts and combat training , but a huge disability when it came to socialising and moving within the complex and scheming political circles of the officers club.
He had noted the dismissive way in which the other Nobles treat the native people , but put it to one side as to concentrate on his military career. Which to all intents and purposes was going extremely well. His Natural ability with both close quarters and ranged weapons and his ease in the saddle , not to mention his rather unique steed , brought him to the attention of the Commissar, who was on the look out for a new officer of the hunt. Impressed by his discipline and lack apparent flaws except his insistence in worshipping a wooden idol , the the commissar promoted the young man to lieutenant of the hunt. A huge responsibility . All was going seemingly well up this point , only wishing for more free time to hunt by himself, and not with his brash and noisy peers. Valrick saw little of Praxus in the preceding years , stationed permanently in the academy barracks , the young man was only allowed into Praxus prime with a senior officer.
But his new found status saw that change, having to move into the Imperial governors palace proper, so as to be at the beck and call of the Commissar. It was during this time he discovered the horrendous plight of the Vulgus , the constant subjugation of the lowly palace staff reminded him of his former life on Che Austri. He could do little to help though , as Nobles and Vulgus were not allowed to socialise. The Event that saw this change started with an innocent request from the Commissar , to deliver a note to a dashing young captain by the name of Actaeon. As Valrick approached the senior officers quarters , he heard screaming and crying , throwing open the door he found a half naked girl being beaten by the young officer , insisting she “clean his boots again or by the emperor she would be sorry “ At this Valrick snapped , all the rage he had subdued and controlled since he had to leave his home world , came crashing to the fore like a tidal wave on a breaker. Taking the startled captains baton , he proceeded to beat Actaeon for every injustice he had ever witnessed and said nothing , to within an inch of his life.
Panicked and scared , Valrick fled the palace with the girl and his now huge fenrisian wolf , to the inner-city squalor of the vulgus quarter . News spread of his Noble rescue of one of their own , and the usually hostile Vulgus , welcomed the young Noble into their homes , his white wolf and strange off world ways bringing much wonder to the usually drab and monotone lives of the poor.
It stayed this way for a many months , with Valrick learning all that he had missed from the fascinating and resourceful people , they told him stories of old hive life and how the Nobles mistreated them , he even learnt about the famous twelve partisans who rode the iron beast of the wilds , fighting for the rights of the common man during the black years. He hid from patrols and kept a low profile, in and out the dark alleyways and underpasses of the impoverished domicilia. Until Retribution was poured upon the impecunious wretches like burning sand. It stated with reduced rationing and ended in outright civil war. The broken Vulgus refused to give up Valrick , he was one of their own , and as the the nobles new too well , family counts for everything.
Realising he was only hurting his new found friends , the honourable young man abandoned for the last time his family , for the Praxian wilds. Unsatisfied with this turn of events the newly recuperated and promoted hunt major Actaeon , layed waste to the Vulgus Domicilia , with carte blanche given by his superiors , to teach the scum a lesson he formed the dreaded riders
de la morte. These evil minded murderers , formed specifically to drive terror into the vulgus , hunted the indigent souls on jet black steeds in the dead of night, seeking out lone victims to enforce their curfew.
Upon hearing this the enraged Valrick swore an ancient Che Austri blood oath on the Praxian Nobles. Undiminished the Riders of death continued , until the fateful night that saw seventeen of the Ignoble horse and man ripped limb from limb by the terrifying lone wolf and its blood drenched rider. The Nobles never did send the black riders into the Vulgus domicilia after that. Although Actaeon escaped with his life he too vowed revenge , but upon his former subordinate the Wild man of the woods. To this day the Noble 9th have a ceremonial forest hunt at midnight on a full moon , to initiate new members of the dreaded riders
de la morte. Many never to return , neither body nor horse ever found. All subsequent attempts to locate the illusive exemplar have failed. The Noble 9th hunting parties that still venture into the forest do so only as an initiation such is the power of the myth. It is said that if you pass through a Praxian forest and you live to tell the tale , its because your not a Noble.
Valrick has not been seen in the Vulgus domicila for many years , but for the odd sighting of a giant white wolf and occasional dire howls on a full moon. Many believe Valrick is just biding his time, and will return to champion the Vugus again when he is need the most. The optimistic myth living on in their hearts and minds.
Kalien felt none the better for recounting the tale to himself. As he stepped into the tenebrous forest , sunbeams that danced merrily on the canopy leaves failed to penetrate the interior and fell like lost hope onto the tangled floor. The fact that Kalien didn't really believe the myth failed to stop his heart pounding like an Arbites maul. It was only when he felt the radiant warmth on his skin again that he realised he had held his breath for the last hundred yards to freedom. The cold chill of the forest evaporating as he gazed upon the sparkling water. Though as he stripped and dived in the cool and refreshing lake , he couldn’t help thinking would he have walked through that wood if he was a high-born.....
The answer was simple , probably not.
and i guess it was a little overdue
