SkarmoryThePG

The Imperium of Man is beset by dangers on all fronts. But when the newest threat creeps unseen closer, only one man is uniquely able to save it. An adept of the Schola Progenium, by order of the Ordo Xenos given the title of Rogue Trader, his hand is free to lend and seek out the aid of what Xenos he deems neccessary to achieve his goal. Aboard his experimental ship awaits a retinue assembled from a great many varied walks of life. A guardswoman of the Imperial Guard and a Electro-Priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Xenos, too; a disgruntled Tau Fire Caste Pathfinder marksman, an ancient, bitter Ork Warlord, even a young but powerful Eldar p

My brain is a scary place sometimes. But also interesting. It's imagining a monster right now. An abomination of dead flesh and machine. A Stygian Desolator. It's not wrong because it's a torso and head of a dead human. It's not wrong because it fixes you with the unbroken, one-eyed stare of a faceless head. It's not wrong because each of its limbs is replaced by fragile-looking cybernetics at a different point. It's not wrong because every move is a different whine of ancient servos. What creeps me more than anything, is that it limps. Faster than a man walks. Or a man sprints. Or runs. It's like you filmed someone limping. Then put