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This post is looking for a GM.
This prompt is not beholden to Owlcat's CRPG nor to strong authenticity of canon lore. I view everything through whatever serves to tell a quality story as well as the Rule of Fun and Rule of Cool. It is my presumption that this story will follow the Rogue Trader (2023) plot to some extent, but I really don't care if somebody completely unfamiliar with the game reached out to do this prompt. Unless I tell you no, the answer is probably yes.
Content warning; genocide, the surveillance state, trauma, indoctrination, potential references to topics of survivalism including non-fetishized cannibalism.
HOMEWORLD
PRIMITIVE WORLD
Whether they be worlds that were outside the reach of the Great Crusade or lost to bureaucracy, the Imperium is not as great a monolith of mankind as it would care to admit. The inhabitants of some of these worlds will pray to a half-remembered human god with rituals that would be unrecognizable to any branch of dogma, while others never knew of the Emperor or his empire.
ORIGIN
THE LUCKY CASTAWAYS
The Age of Strife was not kind to sentient life no matter its species. Nonhuman empires thrived in the chaos, bringing ruin to lives that only sought peace - but, more often than they reaped souls, they stole them, lifting them away as cargo on their ships so that they could perform the labor their masters hid from. One such ship belonged to your ancestors, but unlike many others, this ship crashed on a habitable world, and the survivors worked together to build a new home for one another and their children.
TRIUMPH
LOST TO THE WARP
You survived where all others perished in the bowels of a space hulk lost to the Warp after a terrorist destroyed himself and the Gellar Field.
DARKEST HOUR
XENOS LOVER
Although none speak the words, all know of your childhood spent amongst Xenos and their human slaves and lovers. It was only your blood and youth that saved you from the virus bombs that consumed the world you grew up on.
ARCHETYPE
SLEEPER AGENT
Do not believe the Emperor and His monster's lies. All sentient life carries within it the capacity to love and be loved. You were happy, once. Your people were happy. The Imperium and its dogs burnt away the only hope left in the galaxy, and all debts must be paid. You are a master of obfuscation, hiding your most deep of thoughts and most deep of needs whilst knowing the worst things about people with only a glance. Precious years of necessary education and training were denied to you that others take for granted, but you are uniquely suited to interact with nonhumans.
. . .
Emperor: The deity and secular ruler of Mankind, and the one who tore you from your family and then disintegrated them from orbit. He must die. He. Must. Die.
The Imperium of Man: A staggering amount of worlds whose singular unifying feature is their loyalty to the Emperor on Terra. Any attempt to imagine the number of worlds alone makes your head ache.
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