Faufreluches: The Salvation of Nereus

You are a man out of time. You are yesterday's hero, and tomorrow's. 

You are of the Palace. You are a Paladin.

This is a treatment of Investigating Censor for this blog's Faufreluches setting. Consulting both before proceeding is recommended!

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The Scene

The Nereus system lays spinwards of Mencharo, on the verges of Regency territory. It sits in an odd plane of Curtmantle space, making it slow to access but necessary to pass through. Thirty-four planets, planetoids, and moons orbit a blue-ish but hospitable sun. 

These include...

• Limnoreia, airless seat of a Mews waystation
• Amphinome, where abundant pastures have been seeded under Stadtholder supervision
• Maira, glistening with deadly volcanic activity
• Kymothoe, a planet of vast oceans and swift winds
• Galateia, blanketed in impenetrable cloud
• Amatheia, a moon of grit deserts and grey chasms
• Oreithyia, high-peaked planetoid with an erratic orbit
• Speio, of the fertile caverns

Two Janissariat groups have set claims to these worlds. They are the Díarmuidapur Kin-Brigades and the Neo-Bactrian Peregrines.

The Díarmuidapur Kin-Brigades

The Díarmuidapuri are known as some of the foremost shock infantry in the Regency. Their main advantage is not merely the charge - though this is undeniably ferocious - but that they make their assaults through and in mortar fire from their support column. This is enabled by the short-burst energy-based 'shield umbrellas' that allow for carefully timed near-invulnerability from above. Trust between 'Pipes' and 'Drums' is essential, given the nature of their signature tactic - and they are reshaped by the structures of this Janissariat band to have bonds equal or surpassing the family bond. The desire for mortar-hefting Pipes to become broad-backed Drums covered by the taut cylindrical skein of the shield umbrella also leads to competition, reinforcing that bond in odd ways as Pipes try to both goad on and preserve Drums.

Recruitment 

The Díarmuidapur Kin-Brigades take only volunteers - but do spend their time boasting widely of their deeds and encouraging artwork in their honour. Their reputation is significant in their sector of the galaxy, and it is well-populated enough to provide an ample supply of young hotheads, would-be heroes and thick bastards. It helps that the Kin-Brigades look and act a lot more human that many Janissariat Bands. 

There are a scattering of Díarmuidapuri families, but never quite enough to repopulate their numbers. Former Drums (and invalid Pipes) will drift into assorted administrative roles.

Resources

The Kin-Brigades' characteristic shield units are now difficult to fabricate: force-flow circuit miniaturists are few and circuit miniaturists with access to precision-work machinists and ample resources are even scarcer. So shield umbrellas are passed on from a former Drum (who are never defeated, because when even when broken, they can't be beaten) to a battle-proven Pipe. Shield units are plugged between the shoulder blades of a Drum via spinal nerve-ports, to enable their flexible, nigh-instinctive use. 

Díarmuidapuri mortars are not altogether dissimilar from those used across the Regency by household armies and local defence forces. They are easier to carry and reposition, but the real advantage of a Pipe over any other bombardier is their single-minded practice and training. Kin-Brigades are also more willing to obtain exotic munitions. Pipes will carry compact solid-shot carbines and short, handy combat blades.

Drums are glad in robust armour (largely unpowered - the shield-umbrella requires a bulky power pack already), proof against most small arms fire. A tall helm is common. They typically carry a long two-handed sword, edged with molecule-baffling quasi-sharp Tonsori anomaly shards. Compact 'Saltshaker' hand cannons offer the possibility for harassing fire, clearing rooms and intimidation. 

The Kin-Brigades make use of a variety of muscle enhancements, dietary supplements and synth-sinews, and have a number of trailing surgical clans dedicated to supplying these. They also have access to an impressive array of construction tools and materials

Customs

The Díarmuidapuri encourage plenty to be said about them, and will offer patronage widely. But they have a few specific customs of their own. Firstly, there are lineages of Pipe and Drum that reproduce sensibilities, techniques and personal superstitions from master to apprentice. The term 'Kin-Brigade' often makes outsiders think of these as essentially father and son relationships - but the Díarmuidapuri are sufficiently egalitarian that it is better thought of as elder and younger brother (other than those Pipe and Drum combinations that have a father and son in them...).

Secondly, a Kin-Brigade raises up a feasting house in every even semi-successful campaign. These are towering affairs bearing a variety of stylised geometric forms - lines, diamonds, squares, carefully regular semi-circles. Glazed terracotta is often used, as are neolithiform blocks, along with chrome. Sometimes the local marmoreal will be used for floors or details. Several empty floors and vaults support an upper section that is a banqueting hall with the attitude of a penthouse. When the Kin-Brigade moves on to a new world, the feasting house is left. The vast buildings frequently become storehouses or government departments.

Campaigning

Kin-Brigades generally aim to bring their opponents into a fixed battle. Settlement of the dispute will happen one way or the other and the Kin-Brigade can move on. In the event that they cannot bring an opponent onto the field, they will sweep a region in a series of raids looking to flush their foe into the open. 

The Díarmuidapuri largely aim to enlarge their network of protectorates and obligated nobles and will move quite readily between systems to allow this. They take very little territory but a great deal of supplies and arms.

The Neo-Bactrian Peregrines

The Neo-Bactrians will go about anywhere a human being will go. They will go there carrying more, seeing more and coming back with more. They are also far more likely to survive. Peregrines are nomadic cybernetic warriors bound into mechanical walkers; typically Neo-Bactrian walkers have four legs (with a variety of foot and hoof options), a back bowser for fuel, a central pod for the pilot and an extended forward weapon and sensor mount. 

A world is given into their care for survey work: settlers will serve their needs for a generation - then the Peregrines will move on. If not gathered into a great expedition, Peregrines spend their time moving between settlements on Neo-Bactrian worlds, usually alone. 

Recruitment

The Neo-Bactrians are open to talent, but maintain their numbers largely through a slow but persistent breeding programme. Genetic material can be exchanged, surveyed and assessed at the meeting or two Peregrines. Offspring are deposited with the mobile creche-barracks run by a Secretariat-registered nursery guild. 

Resources

Neo-Bactrians walkers stand higher than the average Regency four-person automobile, but are generally narrower. A variety of hooves allow them to master different terrain. The flexible weapon and sensor mount can be raised and lowered to precise and surprising angles. Walkers are known to be armed with flame projectors, grenade launchers, flechette autorifles and microwave burst guns. 

Neo-Bactrian worlds will have settlements known as Oases (which are probably near a body of water, if not a literal oasis). A peregrine will call at these once a month or so: the helots in this village will provide the Three Types of Fuel, the Six Types of Filter, the Four Types of Projectile and an number of items from the Catalogue of Spare Parts. 

Customs

At an oasis, a Peregrine emerges from their walker. They report on the many miles they have travelled and the various sights around them in careful, objective tones. Peregrines cover their intrusive and extensive cybernetics when out of a walker in cloaks, veils and tight cloth bandages. 

Peregrines are essentially solitary, but will attend occasional moots for decision making and exchanges of goods and information. 

Neo-Bactrians are buried in upright pillar-sarcophagi made from the pods of their walkers. These are topped by an ornate capita carved by a Peregrine in their own lifetime. The wide plains of Neo-Bactrian worlds will often have an isolated and dramatic avenue or geometric web of these sarcophagi. 

Campaigning

Peregrines are gathered for propositions or expeditions by the hereditary functionaries of the Peregrine Delegation. They fight as mobile hordes, striking at will then withdrawing - often at startling speed over all manner of terrain. In the event that they encounter a fixed position, they will besiege it quite patiently.

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The Overture

Ramantai of the Díarmuidapuri has stolen a march on the Neo-Bactrians. Almost literally. Yelain de Lakedt is the Margravial Commissioner over the Star of Nereus, charged with the slow knitting of this border region into the fabric of the Regency and its transformation into a strongpoint against the machine-mind legions and the Empire of P'o L'u.

The Neo-Bactrian Peregrines were called on to survey the numerous planets; this was to give way in time to wider settlement under de Lakedt's oversight and the establishment of the Díarmuidapuri. But the Díarmuidapuri have arrived early. 

Ramantai's Kin-Brigade seized land in lieu of prompt payment from Polyclète, Baron Matamore the on the world of Toranius, which was an as-yet undeveloped holding of the Schematicians. The Baron objected, the Schematicians objected, the Secretariat produced a number of convincing document and the Glossatrices smoothed everything over. The Díarmuidapuri took an immediate payment in supplies and assorted Mint certificates and moved on - but felt they had given way all too easily to the high-handed Matamore. The Baron would admit that he finds the assorted representatives of the Pillars far easier to deal with than Janissariat half-humans. 

This solution was about agreeable to basically everyone on Toranius and nearly tolerable to the Díarmuidapuri. They went to Nereus - and promptly decided that they would not move again. In any event, the Mews carrier flotilla that might have been able to move them was called away by direct order of the Siegneuria, to aid in the excavation of a Stellar Regulatory complex under the eyes of the Pastorate. 

Upon reaching Nereus, the problem of supporting two Janissariat groups quickly became apparent. Hearing rumours that the Díarmuidapuri would be moved on again, Draupadraig, nephew of Ramantai seized Yelain de Lakedt in a desperate raid. It has been put about that she went willingly - and de Lakedt is willing to say as much, not only due to being in Díarmuidapuri hands, but also due to details Draupadraig uncovered of her sale and receipt of prohibited machine-mind designs and formulae. 

The Neo-Bactrians have not taken this lying down, and there have been siezures of Díarmuidapuri assets. Raid and counter-raid have lead to deaths, and more will no doubt follow. An entire star system could be lost from this folly.

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The Cast

But what do you know of this? You only woke up a week ago.

You are a man out of time. You are yesterday's hero, and tomorrow's. You are one of the first psychics. You are a fore-runner of humanity's destiny. You are the bearer of a grave responsibility. You are a great man, and sometimes a good one. You are of the Palace. You are a Paladin.
You have been preserved in the temporal suspension vaults in the Palace of the Massif for the best part of three thousand years, where your mind echoed with the whispers of the Regent and the background murmurs of the College of Martyrs.  

Why did you wake up now? The Regent won't emerge for another three years. He didn't tell you why last time, and he probably won't next time. You've gone along with this for three thousand years, for your own reasons. Another month or so won't hurt.
Everyone knows what a Paladin is. No-one recognises you, so far.
The Martyrs thought you should go to Nereus. They gave you a thick stack of briefings to read en route.

 What were you best known as, Paladin?

1. A Warrior.
2. A Commander.
3. A Ballistician.
4. An Artificer.
5. A Counsellor.
6. A Logistician.
7. An Analyst.
8. A Diplomat.
9. An Orator.
10. A Spy.
11. A Poet.
12. A Survivor.

What characteristic weapon or item do you possess?

1. An antique automatic pistol.
2. A thurible with thought-quickening incense.
3. An advanced mechanical calculator.
4. A spyglass with psychic filament lenses, allowing you to pick out targets with ease.
5. A vademecum of selected law and precedent written in a personal private shorthand by you in ages past. 
6. A hovering rostrum (incorporating dramatic lighting, speaker system, &c) of archaic design, beautifully preserved.
7. A gauntlet incorporating numerous high-precision highly adjustable tools.
8. A banner with the strange device. The strange device is a miniaturised shield projector.
9. A cartographic drone, customised to your own particular needs and sculpted with your own personal heraldry (or by your own personal whim).
10. A suit of armour hardened against every risk of the long-ago war agains the Machine-Minds.
11. A concealable long-range communicator, silenced pistol and survival knife. Tales of your espionage exploits are so well-documented that it is assumed that anyone who has these is you, no matter how improbable that would be. (They are still a pretty good pistol, communicator and knife.)
12. A fold-out box of psychic sand, which shifts according to your whim (while in the box, which can be extended to a metre square).

(The Palace will of course furnish you with numerous other weapons and supplies.)

The Martyrs and the Maiors of the Palace have provided a number of possible assistants for you.

1. A Siegneuria-trained herald, very good at proving that you are who you say you are.
2. A Mint transit conductor, who can find a way to pay for almost anything.
3. A Pastor of the Beacon and Banner Circle, carefully recording everything you do (like it or not)- and with some excellent stories about what you have done.
4. A winning, elegantly dressed Glossatrix. As willing to use existing culture for your benefit as to use you to engineer the culture of the future.
5. The younger son of a Magnate household, with an eye on personal fame to set him above and beyond family repute. He is, alas, unwilling to make use of his family's resources. 
6. A taciturn, near-mute Pyrokine.
7. A Stadtholder Circuitrider: Has gun, will travel. Ability to do things which aren't involved with being a ranger or a marksman is mixed. Probably knows a lot about land use.
8. A Secretariat Full Spectrum Archivist. Can create, utilise, disentangle or disrupt any record-keeping system in Regency space. Has lots of badges that say as much.
9. A Mews Astrothete. Good not just at navigating the stars, but telling people why they have to be navigated in a certain way. A rare diplomat among those of the Mews.
10. A Maioral Pharmacist. Makes just about any drug or medicine you could care to name. Due to the bodily effects of suspension, they work for you and only you: you are the Pharmacist's life's work. Arguably knows your body better than anyone else.
11. A Janissariat Varangist: a hulking bodyguard who is professionally and deliberately foreign. Absolutely incorruptible, really quite lethal, frequently indecipherable. 
12. A Frontiersman. Not remarkably good at anything, but the only person the Palace could find who actually knows the Nereus system personally. The story of why they ended up on Terra is a long and potentially quite thorny story.
13. An Armourer of an unnamed house, who spent fifty years equipping a Magnate's forces to fight a particularly intransigent Janissariat band, only to see the whole thing diplomatically resolved. They are outwardly philosophical about this. 
14. A Mobile Seneschal, perfect for organising quarters, victuals and supplies for an itinerant court - even your bijoux household.
15. One of your descendants. The family line developed quite an interest in you over the centuries. No psychic powers, alas, but really well equipped to deal with what happened the last time you came out of the vaults.
16. A Cryptologist, for the making and breaking of codes and ciphers.
17. A Pastorate officer of the College of Martyrs. Perhaps the only person in the galaxy qualified to be your confidante.
18. An Informer. Really good at blending in where you stand out. Won't tell you where they acquired their skills.
19. A Researcher on the space-faring powers beyond the Regency. Slightly too keen on the Machine-Minds.
20. A Mencherene Defence Force veteran. Knows the fraying social order of the frontier a little too well. Might even know something about the Empire of P'o L'u.

Two or three of these will go in your train to Nereus - where other allies - common or uncommon, virtuous or corrupt, loyal or disloyal - await you. 

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The Places

The inhabited worlds of Nereus fall into three main categories.

• Unaffiliated - where the local Centre of Gravity (or, indeed, centres) may be a regional hetman, a Schematician First-Level Director, a wealthy businessman, an officer of the Margravial Commission, a charismatic Pastor or many other things. An unaffiliated world can still have a Díarmuidapuri or Neo-Bactrian presence. 
• Janissariat-run - firmly controlled either by the Díarmuidapur Kin-Brigades and the Neo-Bactrian Peregrines. The Centre of Gravity will definitely be Janissariat. A Key Personality may be a figure like the Unaffiliated Centres of Gravity mentioned above, but the majority of Key Personalities will be Janissariat.
• Contested - in which case, there are two Janissariat Centres of Gravity in direct conflict, be it open battle or Cold War.

Travel between the world of Nereus is frequent but irregular. There are a variety of craft in a variety of hands that cross between the assorted planets, planetoids, and moons. Getting passage isn't so very hard, given a Paladin's resources and clout - but getting a interplanetary craft of your own will be difficult, and pressing one into your service will not make the owner and/or pilot agreeable.

   Either way, it should take no more than twenty-four hours to find off-world travel as a Paladin.

Travel out-system is only by the permission of the Mews, who exact a fee. While the Mews will have representatives and cotnacts across the System, their centre is the airless moon Limnoreia, where the star-dromonds can rest. The nearest Regency system is Mencharo.

The seat of Yelain de Lakedt was in the high-walled city of Podarsopolis. She is still occasionally seen there, maintaining the vestiges of her legitimacy - but always with a robust Díarmuidapuri escort, and either Ramantai or Draupadraig with her. 

Ramantai and Draupadraig move between Kin-Bridgade holdings frequently: the former to keep the different Díarmuidapuri groups pointed in the same direction, and the latter to keep de Lakedt in his hands (and out of simple boredom).

Meanwhile, Podarsopolis stagnates as the Margravial Commission flounders in the absence of its leader. Plans are deferred, decisions delayed - and funds saved. Any plan to bring peace to Nereus will have to at some point involve de Lakedt, Ramantai and Draupadraig - and, most likely Podarsopolis.

The location of the Peregrine Delegation is as shifting as the Peregine's themselves.

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Other notes:

• This is the long-hinted at Champion Narrative for Faufreluches. As a reminder 'Vorontsov at Bay' was roughly what a Retainer Narrative would be, and 'The Audubonian Breached' is the Scum narrative. 
• Aside from the other inspirations of Faufreluches, part of idea behind this post was 'Jedi Knight parachuted into the Trojan War'. Make of that what you will.
• Obviously, a little more fine-tuning would be needed to bring this to the level of Investigating Censor.

Faufreluches: The World of Menchero

On the borders of the Thousand Day Regency there is a small world - not the smallest - orbiting a distant star - not the most distant - another stout bulwark of mankind's domain - not the stoutest.

Behold Menchero: a world of two billion souls, six major mountain ranges, two vast oceans, extensive wetlands, a bracing copper-scented atmosphere and mild paranoia.

Menchero underwent mild terraforming in the days of the Stellar Regulatory, chosen with the opaque criteria of the Machine-Minds. Settlement by lottery occurred some centuries after the Regent entered his tomb, following survey by a Janissariat expeditionary group. Government was initially by an oligarchy of founding families - who collectively prevented any one lineage from rising, even technically, to the rank of Magnate. Generational debts to Schematician planners, Secretariat licensors and Mews carriers made the world beholden to Pillar influence. This has, however, changed; as in systems spinwards of Menchero settled worlds have been devastated in flesh and spirit.

The government of Menchero is now in the direct gift of the Siegneuria. Talented administrators and leaders from Magnate cadet houses have been placed as governors there for the last century, striving to build up Menchero's resources and resiliency. Native Mencherene stewards watch them come and go, and say that Menchero's care rests with them, as it ever has.

What is it to visit Menchero? Set down at the Benxhan cosmodrome; drive out into the depths of Benxhan Rural, or weave your way into Benxhan Civic. On either journey your passage will be noted by the Vigiles, in their dull green uniforms.  Benxhan Civic will show you buildings clad in the local marmoreal, with its distinctive indigo veins. Members of the Gubernatorial Brigade patrol the Topaz Processional, clad in chrome helmets and brocade sashes. Their banners and motor-carriages show the mulberry and white-gold livery of the Lord Governor. Looking past them, one sees the terminus of the Processional, at the Chrysogonian Hall. Beyond this are the shrine towers of Celb. Drusus and Celb. Famke, with their exconjuratory corner pagodas.  Then the aggressively drab walls of the Continental Academy, and the standard-issue ornamental panels on the barbican of the Office of Public Tranquility. Further out? The Herbgarden Quarter, named for the self-satisfied financial street of Mint Row. 

Perhaps you went to Benxhan Rurual. Once past the marshalling yards and warehouses of the cosmodrome's long brownfield shadow, there are the wetlands and the scattered farm outposts. It doesn't all go one way - mostly, the goods that leave Menchero are canvas, ball-bearings, detergents and canned fish.

Menchero is (approximately) self-sustaining, and has been for some time - but the works programmes of successive governors increase the burdens on most. This is borne stolidly. There has been turmoil in Quoningen Civic as the result of a corruption trial - something to do with railway procurement, they say.  In the hills of Xianwijk Rural there has been strife, and religious turmoil: a dispute over the status of a local holy figure and her placement in the 'Anointed Generations'.  You may see convoys of the Mencharene Defence Force heading west that way, the 1st Security Division visible in buff tunics and oxblood webbing.

This is not the threat that most excites the attention of the governor, however. In the closer-than-comfortable outer galaxy, the foes of man gather. Machine-minds and rogue Janissaries are only part of the picture: rumours and psychic whisperings accumulate of the Empire of P'o L'u. Lords of the Regency begin efforts, subtle or gross, to uncover and repel the Cephalopodic Process and the dreadful absorption into that murky and lurid combine.

Will Menchero be prepared for the great trial when it comes? Which light of human settlement will be snuffed next? What could draw the tentacles of P'o L'u to this little world?

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Some persons

Brigadier Sebastian Kemecut - heads the First Security Division. Born and raised in Xianwijk.

Twice-Honoured Volcxken Bohelok - an official, and the most senior Mancherene native official within the Lord Governor's staff. A surprisingly keen historian.

Ioess Hanggata - Chief of the Benxhan Civic Vigiles. Increasingly convinced that he should retire soon, and very keen to obtain funds to enable this.

The Venerable Jorinde Saharca - Arch-Pastor of Benxhan. She belongs to the Echoing Circle of the Pastorate, who have a reputation for gnomic utterances, ascetic sensibilities and remarkable success with the stranger type of psychic. Saharca has been known to treat worldliness as a switch that may be flicked on and off - a habit that sits ill with more than a few of her underlings, especially those more worldly than her. 

Klaas Ergonote - Chair of the Second Directorate, Office of Public Tranquility. He is half-convinced that he could succeed on another world of the Regency, and that his talents are needed elsewhere.

Bombastimaches Greatorex - Lieutenant Governor, a Siegneuria appointment. Can't wait to return to Saiph, and spends a lot of time with the Glossatrices in the Herbgarden Quarter.

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Other notes

• Manchero's emblem is a mountain with a long-feathered bird perching on it, between two white blossoming branches. The governor's own symbol (usually an obvious variant of his or her Magnate family's) can be displayed below in a small cartouche. 
• This started life as a piece of 40k material; perhaps the greater military element shows. A world like Menchero is by no means the norm in the Regency, but such places do exist.
• The emperor of P'o L'u is nameless and infinite. His marshals will happily tell you as much.
• Further Faufreluches material (which you may in fact wish to read first...) may be found here. 

Faufreluches: O Sister, where art thou?

The eye-catching, vaguely-uncharitable and banally-provocative title of this post being something like 'Your Sisters of Battle suck - HERE is why!'

The Sisters of Battle - the Adepta Soriatas - are one of the more characteristic factions within Warhammer 40,000. A militant order of space nuns, zealous enforcers of the Imperial Creed, simultaneously the strong right arm of the Ecclesiarchy and those who once purged its overlord. 40k being the size it is, they seem to have leaked over into other properties, influencing things in the same fashion as the wider Warhammer look and approach did. I doubt, for one, that the Vestal of Darkest Dungeon (ostensibly more of a piece with Warhammer Fantasy) has quite such a confrontational look without the Sisters of Battle.

Behold, said Vestal.

This extends, of course, to other GW properties - Mordenheim's Sisters of Sigmar appear after the introduction of the Sisters of Battle, and serve as a localised fantasy pastiche of their Far-Future predecessors. I don't mean to suggest that the Sisters of Battle are somehow unique, mind you. They stake out a corner of the ground within which lies Paladin Girl. Indeed, they aren't even the only Pulpy Battle Nun creation of the 1990s. Other forerunners are the Fish Speakers of the later Dune books and the Vestal Vampires of Termight in Nemesis the Warlock.

Of course, the icon of the 41st Millennium is (for better or worse) that horrifying merger of rifleman, astronaut and templar, the Space Marine. The Sisters were left rather adrift for many years. No new models, no new rules, far few books. Yet they kept making an appearance, and it's difficult to imagine the Grim Darkness of the Far Future without them. 

But, while you may have an image of a Sister of Battle in your mind right now - and it may be a detailed and characterful image - it may well be the only image. Further: how many of their characters can you name? How many can you tell apart? Certainly, the various fan projects, art and discussions one encounters (that is, those trying to not to drift too far from the canon...) seem to stick to a fairly narrow stereotype. Even if their miniatures line may have been expanded, I would suggest that we don't have enough models of the Sisters.

Nothing but Joans of Arc, as far as the eye can see.

Why is this? Well, we might point to the mantle of zealous enforcers given to the Sisters. If they are in that role for (quote) 'the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable' it should be no surprise that they are rigid and unvarying. Further, the Ecclesiarchy has more obvious centralising, uniform cultural tendencies that other Imperial factions - both as a matter of in-universe lore and in the wider parodic-satiric aspects it bears. (This overview of an old Sisters codex rather concludes that the Ecclesiarchy-themes and material rather dominate any separate identity the Sisters might have.)

The answer of 'Misogyny' is a little pat, but not necessarily untrue. I don't have the background or knowledge base to properly consider that, but I'd feel foolish not mentioning it. 

There's another aspect, which requires a bit of explaining. I'm going to propose three types of variation for a group principally portrayed as tabletop miniatures, as the Sisters. 

• Football-Strip Variation
• Plurality Variation
• Top-to-bottom - or, more aptly - Cap-à-Pie Variation

Football-Strip Variation is easily explained. Different paint schemes, as developed by individual modellers or suggested by the publishers of the model line. This can even by facilitated by things like transfers with different symbols on.

Plurality Variation is where many but not a majority of elements of the model - and the character represented - are changed. A distinct likeness to the original remains. A sub-faction would be well-represented by this, but a sub-faction can exist with only a few additional models being Plurality-Varied. Both individual modellers or the publishers of the model line could create this.

Cap-à-Pie Variation is top-to-bottom transformation. If we are producing a Chapter of Inca-inspired Space Marines, there will be significant sculpting to add Incan details to their armour. This is really something only individual modellers could do: if the publishers of the model line do this, then the something new has like as not been created. Grey Knights are no longer Space Marines. (Shut up, you know what I mean.) 

All these forms of variation can be seen on (say) fan art as well as in modelling. 

(Incidentally, if a passing semiotician or theorist of aesthetics wants to tell me that there are existing terms for all this, I'd love to hear them.)

Football-Strip Variation is always very likely. A different colour scheme is a simple process. Likewise, I think that there will always be a sprinkling of people who want to go all in on customisation and will produce Cap-à-Pie Variation. 

But I think that Plurality Variation is harder to produce, and is more important for producing a broad range of images for a given line of models. Smith painting Space Marines teal and burnt umber is just teal-and-umber Space Marines. Smith painstakingly converting Samurai Orks or Tau using Necron weapons is just Smith's Samurai Orks. There's a certain point between the two necessary for breadth.

Hence, for instance, the Space Marines. This portion of an interview with Gav Thorpe details the core theme of four Chapters who received Plurality Variation - who could then be taken as a model of (EG) the Unorthodox going forward.

And this ties into something greater. Let's go over some Imperial factions. 

• Our Plurality Variations of Space Marines are those of Warriors - Vikings, Mongols, Arthurian Knights, Plains Indians. Easy to gasp, easy to add to.

(If you encounter a Plurality or Cap-à-Pie Variation which is very clearly drawing from 20th or 21st century military looks, then it's almost certainly resting on 'Special Forces imagery' - which hits the individual and self-directed elements of the Warrior concept . Cf. The various remarkably code-named characters of Metal Gear Solid, et al.)

• Similarly, our Plurality Variations of the Imperial Guard are Soldiers - generic Western NATO types, the Red Army of WWII, Desert Rats, Redcoats, a deliberate mix of everyone in the Vietnam War (except the French). 
• Inquisitors and their followers are, as discussed elsewhere, to some degree professional PCs. Variation is in-built. 
• The tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus are relatively new to having their own faction. But we have multiple instances of characterful, varied tech-priests over the years. They are, to put not too fine a point on it, Nerds (their basic Skitarii infantry are even goggle-eyed and stick-limbed!) and Mad Scientists of which there are variations a-plenty. A whole cult of Victor Frankensteins.

But when it comes to the Sisters - there, we falter. A majority of players/fans/[other] can't provide Plurality Variations of clergy. Our images of religious life are far too limited.

At this point, you might be saying to yourself 'I can imagine all sorts of priests and monks! Haughty Bishops, serene Buddhist monks, Hellenic pagans reading the entrails, ranting Televangelists, mild Vicars, knowing melancholic Rabbis, gold-sickled druids, Hindu ascetics...' 
    Or, for that matter 'I can conjure up a Sister with inner doubts, a Sister who is hiding a bitter loss, a Sister who rejoices in slaughter, a Sister who is enthusiastic about a particular period of poetry....'

This doesn't quite work, of course. The former is far too broad for Plurality Variation; the latter is perfectly good, but off the peg rather than tailored to fit. Compare the proposed Dwarves in Paras 4-6 here. It also runs the risk of the wrong emphasis: consider those adaptations of Chesterton's Father Brown that make him a detective who sometimes says a Mass, rather than a Priest who solves crimes.

I recognise that this is not a new complaint. Neal Stephenson was writing about a lack of religious knowledge and empathy in the aftermath of the Waco siege in the essay 'Blind Secularism'. Less loftily, my praise for Fading Suns had some of this in it. But I will maintain it all the same.

"That's some lovely Polymorphonic Carbon there, be a shame is something happened to it."
Image found in this article on Emperor of the Fading Suns.

[Incidentally, what would this a comparable Plurality Variation look like for Sisters? Well, to point to the Imperial Guard, we have standard khaki-and-rifles army men, scrappy irregulars, heavy-coated gas-masked trenchfighters, troopers for various environments and troopers in dress uniforms.  One would seek at least this level of visual difference, whatever the extent of different characterisation.

Thus, we might suggest Sisters in very plain, functional wargear. Perhaps this Order frequently serves as missionaries, cut off from the normal supply lines. Their devotion to the Emperor is that of loyal servants: ornament and honour is reserved for the altars and reliquaries.

(This is, to be clear, an outline of a sort of order, that a player can tailor closer to fit their preferences. And, of course, they likely aren't only missionaries.)

An obvious contrast is found with a highly ornamental Order, dripping with devotional iconography and decorative elements, drawing heavily on the familiar work of John Blanche. There may be a sense of affective piety among them, stressing a sense of emotional connection to the Emperor - and a willingness to endure his pains. Cue the hairshirt, and other forms of mortification of the flesh. Conspicuous piety of this kind makes them a natural fit for the centre rather than the fringes of the Imperium.

There is also the Sister as enforcer and observer - a Praetorian Guard at the side of a Cardinal, as ready to defend them as to purge them. There's a stress on formality, purity and observation. Think of them drawing from the iconography of the black-and white wimpled and veiled nun - and the black-suited white-shirted secret service agent. Starched white veils concealing high-tech surveillance gear. Gleaming bolter muzzles peaking from under broad black cloaks.

Finally, we might consider an image of the witchfinder. An up-armoured, imposing figure, with exotic weaponry - to both even the odds against the rogue Psyker and, possibly, to take them alive. We might see touches of the SWAT team in them. The inclusion of some in Capotain 'Puritan' hats would be a familiar touch; some of the ferocious elements in the design of the Sisters of Silence might also be apt.

Missionary, Celebrant, Enforcer, Witchfinder. Two outward-facing, two inward. Two plainer, two ornamented. One practical, one passionate, one reserved, one pugnacious. Perhaps this works.]

All very well, though it's unlikely that Games Workshop will come knocking at my door any time soon. So how do I apply all this in my own feudal future  - faufreluchaen* - setting?

+++

Quote:  The Regent knew that Mankind was Changing. The Pastorate are there to make sure that Mankind knows it too. Teachers, counsellors, ritualists - bearers of the vision for all mankind.

As that suggests, the Regent isn't quite viewed as a deity. But a mediator? A prophet? An intercessor? Well, he's managed to be all of those things. Then panegyrics of his own life - and half-life - positioned him as a tool of destiny - undeniably blessed - chosen by chance, by fate - by the universe - by existence itself. This isn't damnable, or even strictly wrongheaded. It may be a misconception, but the Pastorate would rather work with misconceptions that not work at all. 

Established terminology: Ministers as the base representative of the Pastorate, headquartered in temples. Training to occur in seminaries. Witchfinders ('The Office of Detection') and Wardens are among the Pastorate's paramilitary arms. Arch-Pastors to oversee large cities (and their hinterlands), Metropolites to oversee star systems. Typically 'black-clad'. The name of the Regent is repeated once a terrestrial year in the ceremony of the Perennial Obituary. 

So far, so loosely sketched. How do we draw this out into Plurality Variation? 

Well, as Fading Suns, we might have sects still roughly bound together. We should avoid, however, an idea of castes or specialised departments. What we have are circles and networks. Ministers and Pastorate officials align into informal groups - which harden into societies - which put their members to work - which develop talents and specialities - which grow in influence and dominance over a certain discipline, or a certain province, or a certain system. 

It would be very rare for every minister on a fully-settled planet to be of one Circle. It would not be rare for Nine out of Ten Senior Ministers, Arch-Pastors, Seminary Heads or Provincial Pastorate Clarks (PPCs) to be of a Circle.
    It's not quite like being a member of a monastic order (though of course certain Ministers may take certain life-long vows and gather into communities governed by a certain rule), or a political party (though of course Ministers can play politics), or a social clique (though naturally Ministers have a social life). But it's not not like those things.

Time for some examples. 

The Journeying Circle - Have their roots in travelling Ministers, of the first days of the Pastorate. They are no longer mendicants, but continue to use the iconography of travel. This covers devotional literature, rhetoric, art and dress - wide-brimmed hats, robust boots, clothing cut to accommodate space suits even if they never leave their planet. 

They make significant efforts to unearth Psychics, and when they find them spend a lot of time minutely recording their actions within isolated, specially prepared cloisters. 

Their advice and instruction focuses on the constant effort to move forward and develop.

Journeying Circle institutions include the Pilgrims' Sodality, the Geofric Monks, the Seven-Path Trust and the Saiph Sector Pastorate Journal and Record.

The Lector Circle - Prioritise teaching and knowledge, in both the Circle's own lodges and in public libraries. Keen educators, omnivorous readers - irritating know-it-alls, inflexible disciplinarians. A notable mark of a Circle member is the wide lattice-patterned collar; some may carry the flat 'scribe's satchel'. Many will carry the flat square string of Mnemonic beads; each bead is set with a series of Lectorine shorthand marks that allow the carrier to readily recall a long block of text.

They focus both on teaching themselves, on enabling teaching, and on regulating what is and isn't taught.   

Their advice might typically focus on programmes of study and specialist instructors. 

Lector Circle institutions include the Agatho Development Commission, the House of Learned Repose and the Amaranth Echelon.

The Beacon and Banner Circle - can be directly traced to a Minister of the world Bagdemagus, Belisar. He is now 'Celebrated Belisar' in the Pastorate's Glyptotheque of Notables, where slabs of the native rock of their home worlds bear the names and great deeds of those the Pastorate considers the best of humanity. Belisar was chronicler and companion to the Paladin Chrysogon. The Beacon and Banner Circle follow his example, tracking the Paladins that emerge from the Massif, cultivating ties with the Maiors and recording the words and deeds of Paladins past and present.

If not actively tracking a Paladin or agent of the Palace, they will hold revivalist meetings, focussing audiences on their bonds to distant Terra.  Psychics they encounter are left to roam freely, though they are constantly watched. 

Their advice deals often with exemplars or inspirational narratives. 

Beacon and Banner institutions include the Guild of Esoteric Methods, the Yeomen's Benevolence Society, the Rifle-Sisters of Rigel and the College of Celb. Mavrasar.

+++

That's likely enough to give some flavour of what could be apt. The comparison with the Sisters of Battle is loose, I know, but it struck me as a worthwhile exercise all the same. The Circles described above are a bit squishy - but it offers opportunities to focus in on a specific example, which can then be backed by the wider body.

*Semiurge's work is generally good; it is especially nice when it is inspired by my own work!

Faufreluches: The Audubonian Breached

As suggested last time, a sketch for a 'scum narrative' in the Faufreluches setting. 

A presumed playable structure might be a point-crawl four deep and three wide, with increasing risk the longer one stays in a region. Additions could be made to the cast list, but a dozen will serve to give an impression. 

+++

The Scene

Brachemond is a prosperous world, both from years of cultivation and from its useful position in the topography of Curtmantle space. It is the home of House Ximenzborg, who permit a variety of enclaves in the proud city of Elsinjoz. 

One such enclave is that of Tortuga-Clyne; one of the more wilfully mysterious of the great Magnate Houses. Orbiting the cold world of Audubon-5 is their home: The Moon; Algranesh - from which they dispatch wonders. Best-known of these are their remarkable timepieces: bioclocks or hyperclocks of remarkable reliability even across the gulfs of the galactic void and the dislocation of Curtmantle space. Second are the thousand strange alloys of The Moon; Algranesh, shaped into a thousand ornaments and tools all catalogued and marketed by Tortuga-Clyne. 

As notorious as their products are their prices: a ritual for any sufficiently high status exchange is that they are never paid in mere specie or anything standard or common, but only in goods, services or rights as specific and obscure as the thing or service they provide. The Mint regards them as something between a challenge, a calculated insult and a curiosity - and it is a rite of passage to sit through a high-end Tortuga-Clyne exchange. 

So an enclave was a necessity for them. Thus, the Audubonian Exchange: a net of secure warehouses, private landing grounds and assessor complexes surrounding the great cube of the Praetorium. It is an affectation of Tortuga-Clyne that they are a 'House without Servants', that their needs are adequately filled by a group of antique 'analogue robots'. That this flirts with the Regency's prohibition on machine-minds has not stopped the members of the family from bringing them up. 

Even if no servant will ever set foot in the Praetorium, that does not mean there is no need for labour in the Exchange. Supplies go into the Praetorium, rubbish comes out. Guests are escorted, directed and pampered. Diplomatic signals are collected, goods packaged, customs officials accommodated, boundaries are patrolled, motorcarriages refuelled and spies identified. 

Throughout it all, the handful of Tortuga-Clyne residents are watching from the dusty halls of the Praetroium. Stooping eccentrics and hypochondriacs, frequently veiled, they are the talk of any visitor to the Audubonian.

 +++

The Overture

But now they are the talk of all Brachemond. Last night, following a conference in the Praetorium, Ximenzborg forces moved rapidly to seize the Audubonian. No whiff of hostility had been detected before this - not so much as one look askance in the Seigneuria. Something has changed very, very quickly. Ximenzborg has acted with absolute certainty: witnesses report not just household armigers but also the Fortunate Companions - the honour guard of Dagmar Ximenzborg, conspicuous in honey-coloured battle-plate and war garlands about their brows. The lantern-jawed face of Dagmar Ximenzborg herself has been seen leading the assault on the Praetorium. 

Come the dawn Secretariat minutemen are picking through the Audubonian, cataloguing everything. There are rumours of Pastorate ministers in the red coifs of witchfinders entering the cracked cube of the Praetorium. The House of Ximenzborg is certain, so certain as to be incautious, bringing the attention of these notoriously neutral organisations to the attention of a Magnates' feud. Certain, that is, or scared. The citizenry of Elsinjoz take their cue from their masters, and make a nervous breakfast. 

But what do you know of this? Last night you had a job, perhaps even a good one. Today you don't. Today, you are tainted by association. Your quarters are on the edge of the Audubonian Exchange. It is time to leave.
  Transport out of Elsinjoz has crawled to a halt, as a cordon tightens its hold. The dress, skills and mannerisms of those even remotely associated with Tortuga-Clyne will give you away. There is one place you might make for. About a hundred and fifty miles outside of Elsinjoz is a district given over to the Stadtholders - a permanent reserve. Ximenzborg reach into this backwater will be slow and tangled in a legal quagmire. Maybe you can go to ground there. 

But the reserve is a long way off, and you have only what is about your person.... 

 +++

The Cast

Of Tortuga-Clyne

You were a....

Cellarer: take a corkscrew, jigger, apron and a decanter of spirits (technically worth quite a lot, were it not for the gilt Tortuga-Clyne symbol on it).

Chambermaid: take a trolley of assorted linens, an iron and a demijohn of caustic cleaning chemicals.

Moneychanger: you have managed to carry with you small sums in six different currencies, only two of which are approved by the Mint and only three of which anyone's ever heard of. 

Shipping Clerk: take an exquisitely minimalist tea service, an off-world carved boxwood ornament, two cans of paraffin, four preserved freshwater fish and a pocket perpetual almanac. Your warehouse had some interesting things in it.

Gardener: take a pair of comfortable kneepads, a trowel, a pruning knife and a handful of exotic blooms.

Bouncer: take a shock-glove. Get close enough and you can render unconscious anyone not wearing powered battleplate. However, you were selected for your brawn and imposing presence. 

Server: take a tray of assorted, rather soiled nibbles, a palette knife, a ThermoPad ("Keeps your Soup Simmering on the Sideboard!") and several old guest lists. 

Perimeter Guard: take a wide-band secure communicator. You'll be able to listen into Domestic Service Corps chatter, at least for a bit. Also take a sidearm and one clip of ammunition, as well as a very smart uniform with lots of well-placed badges.

Schematician Process Avatar: you know exactly how to produce high-quality canvas according to a variety of timetables with almost any workforce and the right motivation. You also have a clipboard.

Glossatrix Aide: your senior was supposed to her have finger to the pulse. You just arrived from off-world. You have a beautiful outfit, a winning smile and a stack of fancy magazines geared to a variety of Brachemondian tastes. 

Secretariat Cypher-clerk: you have trained very carefully to memorise absolute gibberish, so that someone may quote the correct keyphrase to you in order to decode it. You will remember nothing afterwards. (Also, your shorthand is amazing). Take a smart blue tabard and a string of mnemonic beads. 

Praetorium Staffer: take a dusty robe, a Tortuga-Clyne bio-abacus and a mask. You will not remove the mask.

Of Ximenzborg

The Domestic Service Corps of Ximenzborg's armed forces is divided into two commonly encountered groups. 

The Intramurales are local enforcers, usually older troopers rotated out of frontline service. They patrol their own districts, largely focusing on minor issues of civic order. They have the reputation as fiery Chauvinists in the name of Ximenzborg, happy to raise fist or club in defence of their liege-lords - and in protection of their own little sphere of influence. 
    Their matt cream box-backed motorwagons have won them the curious nickname of 'Dairymen'. It is a long-standing joke that the family, spouse, favoured paramour or crony of an Intramurale will run a liquor shop, gaming parlour or other licensed enterprise. 

The Extramurales go where required within a given region, or indeed beyond. They are dedicated long-service professionals, focused on different roles and coming in several different service branches.
    Extramurale Investigators appear doing standard information-gathering and detective work, lightly armed and clad in the distinctive blue-black service tunic with chest ornaments of rose-pink and dove-grey braid.
    Extramurale assault teams are not seen until they want to be. They are heavily armed and practiced in swift, powerful operations against their targets, distinctive in the irregular gaze-warping cross-hatching of their ash-grey body armour.
    Extramurale Informants are not seen. But they're definitely there.

The Fortunate Companions don't care about you. Really, they don't. They're busy going through purity exercises with the Pastorate or on honour guard duties. But if they happen to be nearby when you manage to make your presence known, their wargear lets them break through a house wall, leap over road vehicles and perform improbable judo throws with a charging aurochs.

Also: divers families of yeomen, burghers, freeholders, villeins, metics, guard dogs and mendicants.

 +++

The Places

Nearmost the Audubonian Exchange

Procyon Terrace

A street or so of large, well-built buildings, given over the years to the offices of the Pastorate - administrative offices, the Metropolite's Residence, a Seminary, a carefully inconspicuous barracks for Wardens. 
   Witchfinders walk openly in the dull dawn light; clerks and Ministers emerging from the offices have clearly slept little. No Intramurales can be seen, and it would be odd indeed for them to show their faces here. 

Fabian's Conduit

Even if the Audubonian had it's own generator, most enclaves in Elsinjoz do not. The Conduit is the great sunken channel for power cabling, the provision of water, the removal of waste. It reaches directly out of the quarter to splice into the main arteries of the city. A row of narrow, elegant trees sits over it and ornamented pillars have subtly placed entrances down into it. 
    The Conduit channels are unattended most of the night. Maintenance engineers are only now arriving. In places, the desperate or the tormented make temporary shelter.

The Diplomatic Penumbra

About the Audubonian and the other cluster of embassies and consulates are a series of little specialist shops, set in winding crescents of terraced houses.  Uniform tailors, pastry cooks, discreet little banking houses, high-end vintners, places where you can hire footmen for a banquet or dancers for a party. 
   You know people here. Everyone knows what happened. No-one will help you. None of them are badly off, but most would like a little more and all would suffer from the attention of the Extramurales.

***

Firmly within Elsinjoz

The Campanologist's Tomb

A housing district for the loyal middle-rank, dotted with small shops. Many of the streets have little piles of Tortuga-Clyne goods, carefully smashed and discarded. Young men, possibly cadets in an Ximenzborg military academy lounge in the courtyards.
    A minor house named Laagercruz owns many of the vendors here; their current paterfamilias is a younger man who is flirting with defiance of Ximenzborg. 

Muinadona Fields

Dense housing in a grid of overcast alleys, defined at one end by the low bulk of the Pastorate Hall of St Yoshifusa [EDIT: This should now be 'Celb. Yoshifusa'] and at the other by the broad field with the two opposing stages for the scrum-based ball game 'Hounds and Mastiffs'.
    The Intramurales attend here in large patrols, to prevent the possibilities of outflanking in tight alleyways. No-one here really knows or cares about goings-on uptown.

Esquiline Park

Recreation grounds, flower-beds, promenades, tea-houses and vendors of sweet-meats. A gap between wards, tended into green splendour. Statues of Ximenzborg dignitaries, Brachemond grandees and abstract personalities of the Regency's virtues dot the pathway. 
    The barracks for the Ximenzborg Foot-and-Motor Guards are nearby, and it is their custom to spend free-time in the Esquiline, generally clad in their distinctive walking-out dress. The number of them that are armed, alert and active will vary from time to time. 

***

Just beyond Elsinjoz

SW167 Livestock Processing

Where pigs, or things that might as well be called pigs, are sent. An area of vehicle parks, feed ramps and stockyards gives way to slaughterhouses, boiling vats and curing halls. 
    The best-known product of Elsinjoz are the 'void-cured' sausages. Specialised containers are packed with sausages and the assorted flavourings and preservatives and slowly mature to completion in the course of interstellar travel. 
    Occasionally, stowaways try to hide in the void-curing containers. They are generally found having choked to death in a cloud of pulverised herbs and spices. 

The Cinnabar Brakes

A long belt of dense red cane snakes round the North and East of the city, cultivated as a deliberate environmental and defensive measure. Immaculate gullies of jade-sheened concrete water it, where rangers in slow flat punts slowly patrol.
    The brakes are far too dense to move through swiftly, but discourage pursuit very effectively. You would not be the first to note this, and miserable red shacks may be found in various states of repair. The residents will have fled at your presence. 

Tollyard 5

Like a concrete tag hanging from the knot of a major junction. Vehicles are checked, permits are issued, drivers fed, maps checked, bladders emptied. 
    A small Intramurale station may be found here. Screens in the main concourse display pictures from the sacked Audubonian, and speculation about what was happening there is splenetic and rife.

***

Nigh on the Reserve

Glazed gullies

A series of shallow valleys in the landscape. Ximenzborg have found that quickest way to make use of these was to roof them over and turn them into vast greenhouses. The fresh fruit and vegetables from these find their way to maintain the working population of Elsinjoz in relative health.
    Shabby camps for the labour parties exist outside, where the inhabitants shiver when they leave the heat of the gullies. Concealment in the gullies would be difficult, and deeply uncomfortable for those unused to the conditions within.

Danstal Lodge

The Brachemond Mint has a back-country centre here, used (variously) as a retreat, a discreet locale for sensitive exchanges and an examination centre for promising candidates. The grounds are largely kept wild, with only a few trails through the mix of wood and heath being maintained. 
    Danstal Lodge is at present empty, barring a maintenance and security team. The Mint being who they are, the lodge grounds are under intense surveillance with reliable data feeds to Elsinjoz.

Iagkyrkan

A settlement connected to the main rail artery. It largely serves to act as a depot for outlying farms and freeholdings. One fabricator station, one wholesale store, one retail store, one dairy, one hostelry, one gaming parlour, one projectionist's hall, one Pastorate Hall the size of a racquet court, one admin hub and four barbers. 
    Rural Intramurales have far more leeway than their urban counterparts. The Station Chief in Iagkyrkan is intelligent, proactive and bored. 

The Reserve

Shelter? Perhaps. The Reserve is bounded by a trail of sensors, intended to track animal movements - and trespassers. The Stadtholders will be on the alert, but the reserve is a big place. A discreet life might be possible. And there are ways through and out of this province. 
    Of course, life here for any length of time will need tools of some kind; likewise some raw materials. You know where to find those, don't you?

 +++

Other Notes

• Tortuga-Clyne is the the work of Patrick Stuart, of False Machine. Among other things. He may make the briefing document on them available in time.... [EDIT: He did!]
• House Tortuga-Clyne's symbol is a tortoise carrying the sun on its back.
• House Ximenzborg's symbol is a black tower on white surrounded by drops of green-gold chrism. This is all shown within a quatrefoil frame of carmine. (Variations exists, generally replacing the tower with another object or symbol). 
• The 'scum narrative' layout comes from the sources mentioned in previous posts, though the 'Fall of the Embassy' theme comes from a few sources. The atmosphere of Ice Cold in Alex, an early chapter of Use of Weapons. And, once again, the mix of urban and rural evasion in Rogue Male.
• Though, of course, given the various parties who might club together to get out of Elsinjoz, Stagecoach might be an interesting comparison.

Faufreluches: Where are the Inquisitors?

Because I definitely expected the Imperial Inquisition.

To begin: I've spent a month on-off ruminating on and writing for Investigating Censor. One of the things I praised that for is its titular Player Characters.

Players are the titular Censors. It's a wonderfully evocative set of ideas - the mix of legal, customary and religious authority could be quite heady. The very title of 'Censor' throws you into a different set of social expectations and ideas. This is a strength of Dave Greggs, I would say - the Investigating Censor, the detectives of Starling and Shrike. It's reminiscent of 40k's Inquisitors or Rogue Traders, and rather more successful than Mass Effect's Spectres.

Starling and Shrike is a sort of mercenary burgher republic described here in a little more depth (with a discussion of the inspiration in the comments here). This is something I should sort of dislike - the same way 'Adventurers' Guilds' rub me up the wrong way. The notion of a free-roaming highly-trusted professional hero who apparently can dictate the legitimate use of force...it doesn't work most of the time. 

Where is does (as above), it's submerged in maximalist settings - self-proclaimed in the case of Starling and Shrike, self-evident in the case of 40k. The Jedi of Star Wars also sort of work - however toned down the setting details is versus 40k, the operatic characters and emotions of those Space Operas sort of fulfil a comparable function. The Emperor's Questing Knights in Fading Suns likewise, in part because of the all-but explicitly Arthurian angle. 

To speak on where is doesn't necessarily - the Spectre Rank in the Mass Effect games. Although the strong presence of Jennifer Hale's Commander Shepherd rather stopped this from dragging things down,  the rank of Spectre with its self-consciously tough name and roughly sketched presence looked rather like an excuse to get Shepherd out into the Galaxy. 'First Human Spectre' could readily be replaced by 'First Human Alliance Marshal' or 'First Human Investigative Magistrate'. That the iconography of the games settled on the N7 rating code is no surprise.

Likewise, the notion of the 00-Rating in the MI6 of James Bond: sensical (if sensational) when it is merely a Field Agent who can kill in the course of duty, strange and stretched when they turn into Spies and Commandos alike - as in the opening of Goldeneye (a film that leaves me rather cold, even by the standards of the Bond flicks). 

+++

So where are the Inquisitors in The Thousand-Day Regency? (Hereafter Faufreluches to refer to the setting rather than the setting-defining polity). I admit that Faufreluches was written with one eye squarely on its relative position to 40k - so where are the Rogue Traders?

My response is this: everywhere.

Read enough 40k material and it becomes apparent that at a certain level of authority, Adepts and Commanders and so forth possess, are entrusted with or can acquire not only highly-trained personal protection and a bunch of assorted legbreakers and enforcers, but legally-sanctioned, armed (do I repeat myself?) savvy investigators or their own pack of ultra-loyal black-ops hardcases. This includes the administrative, commercial and navigational authorities, and even if the various system governors don't get the cream of the crop, they can still muster all the above.

[Is this crazy? Well, A) 'Only the insane have strength enough to prosper. Only those who prosper may truly judge what is sane.' and B) It's an exaggeration of overlapping spheres of legal authority in the Middle Ages; compare legal pluralism and scorpion men.]

If you have to give any meaningful thought to or act on matters outside your planetary system, you probably have many of the powers of an Inquisitor. Thus, the Magnates in Faufreluches.

But that's not how any of this works, is it? The attraction of the Feudal Future of 40k is both for simpler Faufreluches-style reasons as sketched here and also for Hobbesian complex-web of influence reasons. The adventures of Inquisitor Tewt'nphonheem are the spark to which fuel is brought - the ridiculous grit thrust into the rational oyster to make the pearl of art (which is cast before swine....). We're right back to the question of whether or not GLORIOUS TULLY HEGEMONY is possible.*

+++

Setting that aside, here's a model of how Faufreluches (or something comparable) could string these together. 

There are Champions, Retainers and Scum**.

[The Faufreluches-adjacent Lazarus has the similar Waste, Serfs and Family, but let's draw away from that.]

Champions are setting-defining larger-than-life sorts, who presumably leap tall buildings in a single bound. Individual Characters have a great deal of strength, autonomy and potential (rises are swifter, falls greater). In Faufreluches, see Paladins and the Janissariat, despite their different tones - the one being Arthurian and the other Homeric/Wagnerian.

Retainers are bound into a wider system, giving them an awareness of the world around them, if not the power to change it. This is where the intrigue and politicking happens - firstly because of the number of factions that are involved, secondly because you might actually need to persuade, petition or bully people to get what you need.  In Faufreluches - the Magnates and the Seven Pillars. 

Scum are trying to survive. By law or choice or circumstance, they are in the midst of struggle for survival, against the foe or wild beasts or the elements - without major greater awareness or assistance from on high. Resources are limited, true friends or even reliable business partners are few. Faufreluches has some of these outlined on Zhiv-Moroz, and they likely exist elsewhere.

EXAMPLES. Zelazny's Lord of Light is Champion. The Metabarons is Champion. Emphyrio is ... Scum who get lucky? A Song of Ice and Fire is big enough to have strands of all three. Ancillary Justice is Retainer. The Empire Strikes Back is Champion, Rogue One is Retainer. 

So, for 40k: Abnett's Eisenhorn is Retainer, tending to Champion. Abnett's Ravenor is more purely Retainer. Feheravi's Dark Coil is Scum, occasionally reaching a strange Retainer status for metaphysical-supernatural reasons. Farrer's Enforcer is Retainer. Wraight's Vaults of Terra is Retainer, tending to Scum. Anything focused on a Space Marine is probably Champion. 

Macbeth and other Tragedies are likely Champion. The Henriad and other history plays are likely Retainer. 

The Guns of Navarone is a Scum narrative. Where Eagles Dare is Retainer.

The Maltese Falcon is Retainer, Chinatown is Retainer with a tragic close. 

Robinson Crusoe is an introspective Scum narrative (it's not all battles in the mud). 

Mythago Wood is dreamy Scum. The Well of the Unicorn is Retainer. Fury is embittered Champion. Votan is Retainer frequently out of his depth. Dr Syn is antagonistic Retainer (at least, in that first book).

One shouldn't push this model too far, but that probably helps you calibrate things. 

NOTES. These categories may characterise an episode, or an entire narrative. Something chronicle-like may pass between them. Thus, Dune passes from Retainer-category among the Atreides (Is an heir a sort of Retainer? Close enough for these purposes.) to Champion-category with the Kwasitz Haderach. Gaunt's Ghosts sees the regiment of the Tanith 1st go from Scum to Retainers (if not evenly so: see the Gereon mission).

This doesn't precisely match onto Social Class - but we are talking 'Feudal Future': it is impossible to avoid. Yet a protagonist from the Upper Crust can be thrust into a Scum Narrative - as the nameless hunter of Rogue Male, who is in the midst of a pretty Scummy episode. The aristocratic Gaunt of Gaunt's Ghosts is a useful window to demonstrate the predicament of the regiment when in Scum-category: he can get answers - polite answers, even - just not results. 

Nor is this meant to correspond to a levelling system.

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So, if this model is useful, the next step would presumably be to sketch out Champion and Scum narratives, even as Vorontsov at Bay was (roughly?) a Retainer narrative.

And in the meantime, if you need to know who the Inquisitors in Faufreluches are:

Pastorate Witchfinders and Wardens, Mint Auditors, Secretariat Assessors, The Mews Long-Range Security Detachment, Schematician Troubleshooters, Division 5 of the Maioral Guard, Siegneuria Heralds, the Vorontsov Office of Occluded Defence, the Salammboan Green Veil Circle, Stadtholder Circuit-Riders......

*Per Bret Devereux, it's perhaps desirable - see the section titled 'Other Problems'.

**'Footsloggers' would be more dignified and as accurate. The single syllable of Scum has more impact.

Faufreluches: A Thousand Days of Noise

Among the recent post series Faufreluches was my introductory post to the future feudal star empire, the Thousand Day Regency. Here is a recording of the central element to that post, 'The What' - largely becuase I wanted to see how the rhythm of the piece would develop.

Enjoy.

Faufreluches: Vorontsov at Bay

Faufreluches: the rigid rule of class distinction enforced by the Imperium. 

'A place for every man and every man in his place'.

I'm calling this little series after the above concept from Dune because I've never been able to chase down its derivation. Initially, I put forward a number of ideas about where the appeal of the strand of science fiction sometimes called 'Feudal Future' lies. I closed by asking:

2) Having assembled such a list can I devise, if not the greatest Feudal Future, at least an adequate one?

Then I sketched an outline of a Feudal Future, centring on the suspended imperial government of the Thousand-Day Regency. Now to apply that to a specific case within that future.

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The Scene

ZHIV-MOROZ. A planet around the star Thuban. A cold world, like a fallen stick of chalk crushed by a hobnailed boot. Snowy plains and mountains are slit through by abyssal black crevasse-seas. 

Humanity clings to this hostile world  - for what reason? For whom? Zhiv-Moroz produces little in the way of foodstuffs; the metal and raw materials it produces are sufficient for domestic use and far too costly in transportation to extract at scale. The craftsmen of Zhivkone may be known for their elegant carriage-work, but even in the best of times this is insufficient to sustain that city at a profit. 

The answer lies in the trees. The vast stretches of woodland, where the Thuban Conifer grows. The resin of the conifer is lightly sensitive to psychic energy - a unique property, as near as can be told. The witchfinders of the Pastorate have many methods, to be sure - but few as sure as the resin. The orderlies of the Office of Detection make shallow cuts in their palms and coat them in the resin. Passing their hands in ritual gestures, they can feel the pull on the resin and focus the zone of sensitivity. Thus they are known as the Lacquered, or the Shellacked. 

The resin is the commodity that allows Zhiv-Moroz to prosper. It is gathered by tappers, made stocky by their heavy coats and carrying harnesses. They flood out of railheads for fortnights in the up-country workstations. But the keeping of the trees, the protection of the woods - this is the part of the Thub'nak Nomad Hosts.

Following the snow-bison and the Moroz deer, they are a class apart from the Tapper Guilds. Maintaining their privileges over the wilderness, they will pursue the trespassing lumberjack as much due to outrage at his violation of their land as to maintain the plantations of Thuban conifers and protect the profits the resin brings. They accept payment only in goods: high-energy fuels,  tools and spares for their snow-cruisers, livestock for their herds, ammunition for their antique rifles. 

Onto Zhiv-Moroz, into its hunched and shivering cities, its lonely and echoing forests, its isolated Pastorate hermitages and Stadtholder survey towers - onto this cold pebble in the void, who is it that is coming?

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The Overture

The House of Vorontsov is a line of Magnates that are dated to the first years of the Regency. They are Earls of Mizar and Alcor. Twenty times they have held a Principal Office in the Siegneuria; a hundred times recognised as a caucus spokesman. They are almost all dead.

In Terren, City of Half-Moon Plazas, the Citadel is a fortified necropolis. In the Fortress of Gaheris, never again will a cadet lift a lance in honour of the Paladin. No-one dances in the gardens of Five-Beacon House. A tailored plague has taken them all: an assassination fifty years in the making. 

Eduige Vorontsov was Viscountess St Moab, perhaps fifth in the line of inheritance. When House Vorontsov was granted fiefdom of Zhiv-Moroz, it was an honour, and the fruitition of plans she herself had furthered. The opportunity to be installed as Governor of that distant, famed world was one she eagerly grasped. Now news of a world in mourning reaches her in transit at the Aldebaran Mews, and she knows that cold Zhiv-Moroz will be her sanctuary and her tomb.

On distant ancient Terra, her great-uncle Ippolyte knows that he is compromised, knows that his far-off home will fall into Provincial Administration, plaything of Secretariat and Schematician. The Vorontsov voice on the Siegneuria, he sees his death in every shadow, but must play out his hand as long as he can.

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The Cast

Eduige Vorontsov: The Countess Vorontsov. Younger than you think; younger than she thinks. The last Vorontsov. A mix of the ambitious and the vindictive. However alien the Governor's Palace in Zhivkone feels, her path will lead her to places stranger still. 

Achilla, Last Captain of the Nibelungs:  Pale, near-hairless, squat, cynical, perceptive. A Janissary, last of his kind. Achilla fills the role of Inspector-General of the Vorontsov Forces and tactician. 

Isolde of the Hôtel Fomalhaut: As winning as only a Glossatrix can be, and as loyal as the strictures of her order permit. Chamberlain and Advisor to Eduige Vorontsov. 

Ippolyte Vorontsov: Holding the title Baron Vorontsov of Sixvales. Old, sustained by the constant cycle of Terran court life. Highly worried about Eduige.

Sarq Trianon: Confidential Clark to Ippolyte Vorontsov. As trustworthy as anyone on Terra at all connected to the Siegneuria. 

Gaspard Tamerlano: Margrave of the industrial world Salammbo. Wealthy, unscrupulous, generous with everything except power. Resents the prominence of Vorontsov in the Siegneuria and on Zhiv-Moroz alike. 

Gariballad Tamerlano: Lord of the Outer Ring; heir and chief enforcer of Gaspard Tamerlano.

Eustazia Caffrez: Spymaster to House Tamerlano. A disgraced officer of the Secretariat. 

Argante d'Akunin: Fifth-Level Director; Schematician with a remit including the Thuban System. Known to be acquainted with Gaspard Tamerlano. Provider of five-year plans and armoured trains to the people of Zhiv-Moroz.

The Cohort Choleric: Reputed as pitiless and mercenary, even by Janissary standards. Known to favour the use of single-edged hacking blades.

Guildmaster Passek: Possessing the mastery of a planet's industry, he still has the scope of a Beancounter. Dwells in Zhivkone; knows all too well the life outside. 

Stanislas Storkov: Resin Assessor and Professional agitator in the pay of House Tamerlano. 

The Host of the Western Scarp: A Thub'nak Nomad group, known as some of the least biddable rangers. 

Ruslan: Current hetman of the Host of the Western Scarp. Older than he thinks. 

Almira Chapuys: Stadtholder-General of Zhiv-Moroz. An eccentric among Stadtholders; a rare diplomatic link with the Thub'nak.

Leodegar: Arch-Pastor of Smolgrod and Metropolite of Thuban. Trained as a preacher, expected to act as an aide to an industrial process.

Tancred, Duke of Omnium: Chair of the Signeuria, Honorary Member of the College of Martyrs, Marshal of the Left. Powerful, so long as he is quiet. 

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Other Notes:

• Again, no pictures.
• House Vorontsov bears the symbol of a rearing chestnut horse, with a human skull for a head and armoured forelegs. This is shown on a lozenge of split Prussian Blue and white. (Variations exist.)
• House Tamerlano bears the symbol of a green snake wound about a gauntlet, shown on a roundel of burnt orange and white. (Variations exist.)
• The premise of the above started as Dune but with Dr Zhivago instead of Lawrence of Arabia, something I've mooted before. I hope the setting of the Thousand-Day Regency, as well as other suggested changes, have made this a little less blatant.
• Presumably some Nomad Hosts act as typical cavalry, but maintain snowcruisers for high-value transport. 
• The Kharkovchanka is not a Nomad Snowcruiser, but it could be an ancestor.