I’ve joined a Facebook group of Warhammer 40,000 players. It’s called a narrative group, but will be based around narrative games. In a fit of inspiration last week, I wrote this as a grimdark introduction to my army and posted it:

” These are dark times indeed.

It was quiet in the cargo hold. Inquisitor Pyradius paced slowly in a dark corner. He muttered quietly to himself as he reviewed the dataslates. His mood was dour, and new news didn’t help.

The Inquisitor and his retinue preferred to stay in cargo holds, engine rooms, and other utility spaces away from the crew. It was as much for their safety as the crews. His retinue did not suffer strangers warmly.

He examined his retinue closely packed but sprawled across the floor of the cold, dark room. They were exhausted from their last encounter, but it would be foolish to assume they were resting unprepared. The Inquisitor spied a melta-gun pointing at the cargo bay door, a half-slumbering acolyte ready at a moment’s notice to defend what was left of the eclectic band.

The group had just returned from a battlefield. They fought valiantly, but we’re forced to quit the field. An exterminatus order was executed to purge the enemy and purify the planet. It didn’t feel like a victory.

The Inquisitor turned his thoughts from his recent foray and back to his dataslate. Reports of incursions in the sector were becoming so numerous that he was starting to lose count. The messages were so frequent and jumbled that it was no longer clear who the agressor was: Heretics? Daemons? Xenos?

He spied his daemonblade resting against the bulkhead. It still bore entrails from the recent battle. Pyradius could also sense the restlessness of the lessor demons entrapped within the massive weapon. He was always nervous using such arcane powers, but he relished using it against the Emperor’s enemies.

The door to the cargo hold burst creaked open. The Inquisitor reflexively pointed his weapon at the door. He quickly lowered it when he spied the regimental commander. His regiment of Imperial Guardsmen had been raised specifically to support the Inquisitor’s activities. It had been whiddled down to but a few squads of hardened veterans over the years. They were sporadically reinforced, but their numbers always remained low.

No pleasantries needed to be exchanged between the two men. After years of shared battle, typical Imperial formalities were no longer necessary. Inquisitor Pyradius gave the commander a morose look. Without a word, the commander understood. He nodded gloomily.

These are dark times indeed.”