War on Tharacium VII part 1 (narrative 40k prelude)

We are starting up a series of days to play 40k, escalating up in points across the year. We have a few club members (myself included) that are working on 40k armies, so it made sense to sequence the games to help us get the motivation to finish things, and keep making progress on our armies.

As all of us are keen on the narrative side of the 40k universe, it only made sense to set up some sort of narrative framework for the escalation days. And this is how we are starting off....

My master willed it, and so I existed.

Where I did not before, now I did. 

Nothing so crude as speech passed between my master and I.

No such thing was necessary, I simply knew what my master willed.

A world had escaped the clutches of the warp. It had emerged, reappeared and reorientated itself within the elliptic of a system infected with humanity, far from the burning light of the astronomican. 

The world was known to humanity as Tharacium VII, although most had forgotten that it used to have a different name in days past. The Eldar once called it Kal Vishayan, and known it as a safe harbour. To the denizens of the Grandfather who had tended it as a garden to their demanding Lord it was known as Bubonicus. The Orks had ruled over the world more than once, and had a name for it, but my master did not care enough to share it with me, and so I neither knew nor cared for it either.

How it came to leave the tender embrace of the warp. That was the question I cared for more.

That I cared for with all of my being.

It was my masters will that others came, that others searched while I watched, waited and intervened to ensure my master's will was done.

Most came of their own accord, drawn by their own recollection of one or more of the different masks that the planet had worn over millenia. For the others my master required, all it took was a few rumours of lost technology, of the rise of an Ork warlord to rival Ghazghkull Thraka using technology to move planets through the warp, or of one of the Grandfather's pestilent garden left untended. 

I have many names, but the simplest for your feeble mind to comprehend is the Changeling.

All parties shall serve the will of the Changer of Ways on Thracium....

Painted by Scotty, who is loving contrast paint!

Stay tuned to see how it pans out!

Pooch