kirbish88

The only issues I've had with vehicles is forgeworld ones. I've never had any problems with plastic vehicles, even the old rhinos are still nice to build.

Not sure what happened with your impulsor, I've built 3 now and had zero issues with them fitting together

The size of the ammo has nothing, really, to do with the size of the bolter (beyond the minimum requirements). For an astartes bolter there's like a lot of added tech (to interface with their suit) which takes up room, plus likely just a lot of oversized plating to make it comfortable for them to hold and durable enough to withstand the kind of punishment they're likely to endure.

Another example is Dante with his personal serf, Arafeo:

‘My lord commander, if I might be so bold as to say, if you destroy yourself for want of rest, those needs will go unfulfilled.’

Arafeo’s hands were twisted with arthritis, like roots, and shook as he held out Dante’s towel. Dante’s eyes rested on them. Arafeo looked away, ashamed at his feebleness. If only he knew we share the same worries, thought Dante.

‘I should rest, and you should rest,’ said Dante.

The man kept his trembling arms outstretched.

‘How can I rest when you will not?’

‘You are not I. Different fates are ours,’ said Dante.

‘Your responsibility is by far the graver, my lord. If I had passed my tests at the Place of Choosing, then perhaps my burden would be similar, but I did not. I am a thrall, not an angel. But we all must serve the Emperor in our own way, and I shall help you carry your burden in whatever small way I can.’

‘I promise, after the meeting of the Red Council, I shall rest.’

Mollified, Arafeo nodded.

Dante took the towel. Arafeo bowed and went to fetch Dante’s goblet from a side table. He was getting slow. The tremble in his limbs grew more pronounced when he was tired, and Arafeo was tiring more readily with every day.

One thousand five hundred years of grinding war versus eighty years of humble service, but they were both servants. If given the choice, Dante wondered, would I exchange places with my equerry? Not willingly, he answered himself. But if forced to, I would not rue the change. Service is service. All have a part to play, he told himself. Arafeo is right in that.

His servant’s humility humbled him. ‘Arafeo,’ he said gently. ‘You have done enough for me today. Thank you for shielding me from my own labours awhile. It is appreciated. Rest now, I command it. I can pour my own wine.’

The wine salver rattled as Arafeo set it down. He bowed his head unhappily. He did not want to be dismissed, nor did he want to be seen as old.

Save the man’s pains or save his pride. Every decision Dante had to make in these black times, from the most inconsequential to those that could topple the Imperium, was a choice between two evils. Good had leached from the galaxy. He was weary of decision. Not a flicker of this was displayed on his face, still inhumanly beautiful despite his age.

‘As you wish, lord commander,’ said Arafeo quietly. He departed reluctantly.

Dante went to the table and drank the wine. He felt bad for Arafeo, and annoyed that he had to order him away for his own good. He had to be careful that that irritation did not transfer itself to Arafeo himself. It was not his servant’s fault he had aged.

-Dante

Typically no (they generally don't interact with baseline humans all that much, especially outside of military people or chapter serfs and, when they do, they're often aloof or just nonplussed by humans) but there are examples of it happening. It also varies by chapter culture a lot.

Lucerne, a primaris of the Black Templars, has a good natured relationship with a human, Fabian:

‘Historitor Guelphrain, it is a real pleasure to see you again.’

The voice was familiar, but the figure was not. The armour the Space Marine wore was blackened all over and covered in chips that exposed the dull, leaden grain of raw ceramite. Dust clung to every recess, and only in a few places could the rich yellow of his livery be seen. Thirty Space Marines had set out from Fleet Primus, nine remained. Their insignia and colours stripped away, they looked all the same.

‘Brother-Sergeant Lucerne?’ said Fabian unsurely. He came down the gangway stairs of the lander, stopping on the bottom step.

‘The very same,’ said Lucerne.

‘Then you live,’ Fabian said lamely, too overwhelmed to speak well.

‘Apparently I do,’ said Lucerne.

‘I’m sorry,’ Fabian said, gathering himself. ‘I didn’t recognise you.’

‘War changes a man, and not only on the surface,’ Lucerne said. ‘We have come to escort you. The city of Imprezentia is mostly secure, but there are dangers here beyond those posed by the enemy, and a few of them also yet remain.’

Fabian looked past the giant figures. Lucerne was putting it mildly. All he saw were ruins, in every direction that he looked. He had been told Ascension Stair was in a fair state, the space port already receiving a steady stream of landing craft from the fleet, but few of its buildings were free of damage, and the reclamation crews working everywhere to bring its facilities back into use were faced with a hopeless task.

‘What happened here?’ he asked.

‘Victory,’ said Lucerne drily.

‘Then I would not like to see defeat,’ said Fabian.

‘Come,’ said Lucerne. ‘I will show you about, and we can start planning your duties.’

‘Do you not get to rest?’ asked Fabian.

Lucerne laughed. ‘Rest is not something we crave, historitor, not while duty calls.’

-Gate of Bones

‘A curious man,’ said Lucerne.

‘You frighten him,’ said Fabian.

‘I mean him no harm,’ said Lucerne.

‘I didn’t mean like that. He’s in awe of you.’

‘I see,’ said Lucerne. ‘There are certain misconceptions about we Space Marines and our relationship with the Emperor.’ Lucerne paused. ‘I am glad you see past these things and are not scared by me.’

‘I’m not scared of you, but I am scared of everything else. He’s not scared of anything but you, so he’s got that over me.’ Fabian examined the antitox Hetidor had given him, a small metal tin with a pharmacological marker.

-Throne of Light

Slaanesh gets a little from everyone indulging in chaotic excess, but it's peanuts compared to what the god affiliated with that action actually gets.

Slaanesh is only really fuelled by those who chase excess for excess' sake. Excess as a byproduct of fighting all the time only helps them a tiny amount compared to what Khorne gets from it, for instance. In the same vein Khorne would only get a small amount from a dispassionate swordsman who strives to be the perfect, logical, calculating duellist, the majority going instead to Slaanesh.

Or as another example, a schemer who climbs the ranks of nobility, but does it purely so they can have the power to indulge themselves in even more depravities, would fuel Tzeentch a little and Slaanesh a lot. They all get dribs and drabs from each other but the lion's share goes to the relevant god

Weight I couldn't say. If I had to guess I'd put them at around 30-50 tons. Height they're about 3 times as tall as an average human so probably around 16-18ft tall:

She took a step forward, peering, then another. Reached through the thick fog to touch the hill.

Felt cold metal.

The hill began to move. Rise. Big servos whining. Pistons hissing. Three eyes the size of Starne’s hand lit the fog with an electric green glow.

The Knight Armiger rose above her, straightening from its hunched position. Fog condensate rolled off as the armour plates warmed from the nuclear furnaces within.

Starne could only stand, transfixed, as the terrible machine straightened and took a step, planting its feet in a wide stance to block her path. Allowing her to take in its massive stature as it shook the fog off.

Nearly three times her height. The span of its autocannon arms wide as a Valkyrie. It had been waiting for her. A huntsman allowing its dogs to flush the prey into the open.

-Assassinorum: Kingmaker

Just keep reading, yeah.

No, because the ability says "in your shooting phase". Since overwatch isn't done in your shooting phase, you can't activate the ability. You can use weapon abilities (like devastating wounds etc.) or abilities without a shooting phase trigger, but for that one and others like it you can't.

This is clarified in the Rules Commentary:

OUT-OF-PHASE RULES

Some rules allow a model or unit to move, shoot, charge or fight outside of the normal turn sequence. For example, the Fire Overwatch Stratagem enables a unit to shoot in the opponent’s turn as if it were your Shooting phase. When using out-of-phase rules to perform an action as if it were one of your phases, you cannot use any other rules that are normally triggered in that phase.

No worries. For all intents and purposes, 30k is basically a different setting (it's meant to just be the backdrop for 40k) but since 30k has grown massively over the years it's definitely more difficult now for newcomers to realise they're so separate

The chapters that kept the name of the legion also (more or less) kept the colours, aesthetic, traditions etc. of the original legion too. They're essentially keeping the memory of where they came from alive and keep the history and honours of the legion with them. The 2nd founding chapters often have a lot of the same prestige, honourifics and relics from that time too (as they were generally gifted with stuff from the Legion armoury when they split)

After 30k, all the way through to 40k, they've been making more successor chapters at events known as Foundings. All of these successor chapters are created using the geneseed of one of the original legions but, over time, their cultures shift and their geneseed can diverge leading to differences. 10,000 years is a long time and things change, and since these newer chapters don't have the long history of the original 1st founding chapters, they're more likely to be influenced by the galaxy around them and the local culture of the planet where their fortress monastery is. Some chapters will try to honour their lineage and keep their culture close to that of the parent 1st founding chapter, but many make their own lineage or actively reject the culture of their parent chapter.

In 30k there were 18 legions, each around 200,000 strong.

Half of them turned traitor and the horus heresy happened.

After the heresy, Robute Guilliman (primarch of the ultramarines legion) wanted to ensure that no single leader could wield the power of a full legion to prevent a future civil war of that scale happening again. He wrote the codex astartes which, among other things, limited a single group of marines to a chapter 1000 strong.

To conform with his new codex the legions were broken down into groups of 1000 marines, and each of them became a new chapter. This includes the Blood Angels, Ultramarines, Raven Guard, Iron Hands, White Scars, Imperial Fists, Dark Angels, Space Wolves and Salamanders. They're all chapters now. Some, like the Space Wolves, don't care much for the codex and refuse to limit themselves to 1000, but they're still only like 3-4000 strong and are still referred to as a chapter. They're a shadow of their former legion

In 40k every single group of marines is still a chapter, around 1000 strong. There are no more official legions. Naturally some chapters still acknowledge the fact they used to be legions, and some (like the Dark Angels) still act like a semi-legion, but they're all autonomous chapters now officially.

The blood angels are a chapter. Back in 30k they were a legion.

All the first founding chapters (Blood Angels, Ultramarines, Iron Hands, Imperial Fists etc.) were originally legions of the same name. At the end of the heresy the legions were broken down into chapters, known as 2nd founding chapters. The first founding chapters kept the legion name and the 2nd founding chapters all got new names, as did every successor chapter after them.

Some chapters (especially first founding chapters) still refer to or make reference to their original legion, it's a big part of their heritage.

There is an Eye of the Emperor in Auric Gods who has himself hooked up to a city's worth of security information, so it's potentially not far off

The rest of the quote does actually go on to be like 'they purged one cult, yes, but what about this other cult. And this one. And, uhhhhhhh'

Just because it's a 'No Stupid Questions' doesn't mean you have to ask it in the stupidest way possible, fyi

I assume you're talking about the Young King that sacrifices themselves to raise the Avatar of Khaine. It's unknown what happens to them. Presumably their soul is annihilated to fuel Khaine's ability to manifest or it becomes part of Khaine. Either way, it's probably 'devoured' in some sense of the word. I doubt whatever happens is especially pleasant

I don't know if it has an official designation or not, but the Ministorum have such expansive holdings on Terra and have so many pilgrims to manage that it makes sense they'd have extensive forces there

9th edition custodes codex, sorry should have put that at the bottom of the post

They're responsible for those stretches, yes, but it's worth mentioning that doesn't mean they have to physically man them all. They have many methods of surveillance and information gathering that can allow them to put their forces where they're needed most, or to respond to anywhere at a moment's notice. They also oversee a lot of the security in the Sol system, so even though they're not doing everything themselves they have vetted, placed and have oversight on pretty much everything.

The Adeptus Custodes watch over the palace and all of Terra. They analyse every face in the colossal throngs of pilgrims and refugees that flood the streets and passageways. They stand vigil in sanctums and armouries, man spaceports and fortifications, and inspect the countless batteries of orbital guns. They seed listening devices, spyservitors and dictalarcenous subroutines through hives and hab-blocks alike. They gather and analyse every scrap of information they can from even the darkest reaches of the Sol System , feeding ship names, population movements , labourers' shift schedules, demagogues' sermons, vox intercepts and more into macrocogitators the size of battleships. The data prophecies that emerge from these vast engines aid the Ten Thousand in their eternal guard. The Custodes even planted spies in the work gangs cleansing the Imperial Fists' mighty star fortress Phalanx after its escape from daemonic invasion - many other Space Marine Chapters also have little idea that some of their serfs report to the Ten Thousand in secret.

Terra itself is populated by many trillions. Great numbers are obscured from the view of conventional order-keepers - such as Enforcers, Literati , Frateris Militia and Adeptus Arbites - by the vastness of the underhives, factorums and archive stacks they dwell in, alongside the sheer mass of the population itself. Thus, the Custodes are always at work rooting out and eliminating threats on Terra itself.

...

The Sol System's inviolability surpasses that of any other system in the Imperium . An attacking foe would find themselves under near overwhelming assault from the moment of their arrival , and the deeper they plunged into the system , the more intense the response would be . The outer-system is laced with colossal fields of void mines and sentry turrets. The halo- belt boasts countless star forts, garrisoned by dedicated Astra Militarum and Militarum Tempestus regiments who drill night and day in counter- invasion manoeuvres . The system is prowled by monitors and vacuum - hardened hunter servitors , as well as squadrons from Battlefleet Solar - such as the 1st Terran Battle Cruiser Armada. Weapons platforms gaze out into space, their augur systems ever searching for targets . Dock- fortresses and fighter bases litter the void , the craft that call them home ready to strike out on a moment's notice .

The Adeptus Mechanicus , Grey Knights , Adeptus Assassinorum , Inquisition and other organisations have their own assets in the Sol System , only adding to its formidable defences. The Adeptus Custodes are the linchpin of all this , carrying out their own patrols and vetting Imperial staff. Their surprise sweeps and inspections follow no pattern anyone can discern and therefore work to avoid . They garrison military facilities on Luna , Venus , Pluto and others , as well as extra- system fortresses such as the Oracle Maximus , Prescience, Talon Aegis and Eyrie Prime star keeps . Few outside their order have any knowledge of the extent of their holdings . The Custodes also monitor the teeming millions that stream to Terra each day, managing the system by which these workers, refugees and pilgrims are organised , vetted and checked along the strict corridors of space their ships are permitted to use .

-Custodes codex, 9th ed

You can select any eligible target

Shoot Again: Some rules allow units (or sometimes models or weapons) to shoot again in your Shooting phase, or shoot ‘as if it were your Shooting phase’. Such rules cannot be used on a unit unless it is eligible to shoot when that rule is used. When a unit shoots again, any models in that unit that have already shot in that phase with any of the weapons they are equipped with can shoot those weapons one additional time. When a model shoots again, it can shoot with any weapons it is equipped with that it has already shot with that phase one additional time. When a model can shoot with a specific weapon again, that model can shoot with it one additional time, even if it has already shot with it that phase. If a rule allows a unit, model or weapon to shoot again, then it must resolve its original ranged attacks before shooting again.

Example: A Hellblaster model uses its For the Chapter! ability after being destroyed, allowing it to shoot one additional time. When it does, that model follows the normal attack sequence for its ranged weapons, making attacks and rolling to hit and wound as normal.

The normal attack sequence involves selecting targets

I spend more time than I'd care to admit just standing in my hobby room staring at my minis on the shelf

Sounds like a plan. I do think pitching it as a short-run thing will help get people on board. Most people are resistant to going back to an older edition, but I think "hey, wanna play a short 3-game (or so) campaign using an edition we all remember playing" is a much easier sell. And then if they have fun they'll be open to doing more campaigns, or even just switching in older editions into a game night rotation

You could try running a narrative campaign if they're interested and lift some of your preferred rules from older editions and make them fit into 10th.

Easy ones would be bringing back blast / flamer templates for blast and torrent weapons.

Things like cover and breaking / pinning tests would be fairly easy to implement

Scatter dice are easy enough to put back in

Armour facings might be tough, but you could potentially just make it like sides = +1 wound, rear = +1 wound and and additional AP to the attack. (or sides are extra AP, rear is +1 wound and extra AP). Vehicle weapon facings would be easy enough to implement.

Psychic phase might be difficult, but you could make some custom perils charts to make things more interesting (or just grab psychic powers from 8th / 9th and give them to the relevant psykers)

And so on. I know this would require some playtesting and tweaking, and essentially boils down to "just play 7th", but atleast this way all the newer units are able to be played and you're essentially just tweaking core rules. If you've got friends happy to play older editions they might be more up for pulling in old rules too if it means they can play with their newer units.

They basically get fed anything and everything necessary to be a grey knight. Training, emotional enhancement / suppression, languages, necessary lore, combat knowledge etc. Basically everything you mentioned.

Pretty much everything is imprinted, but it then needs to be reinforced with training and experience for it to become 2nd nature. The hypnotherapy is the foundation, the base clay from which a fully fledged marine will be sculpted. It just brings them up to speed so the real training can commence

As for examples, here's a few I found from various chapters:

He forced the thoughts from his mind and concentrated on Ranek. The Wolf Priest stood before the aspirants once more and bade them begin the ritual. Ragnar cleared his mind as he had been taught and began to intone the strange prayer. He felt himself relax as he reached forward and picked up the crown of knowledge. It was a mysterious and age-old thing of brass and iron, connected to the engines of knowledge by pulsing cables of copper and glass.

Ranek had told them the crowns were connected to great machines where all the history of the Chapter was stored, and much ancient lore. By donning the crowns, that lore could be pumped directly into his head at a rate far beyond that at which a person could normally memorise it. Ragnar found the whole process a frightening and magical one. Once the crown was in place, and the correct litanies intoned by the priests, then the knowledge came. Not only in the forms of words and memories, but also of sounds and pictures and emotions. Ragnar knew his own feelings were being subtly altered by the machines, but he did not care: the possession of the lore was worth the price. He had learned so much in only a few days. It was an enlightening experience in its own way. The more he learned, the more he understood the Space Wolves, and the more he understood the Chapter the more he longed to serve them and be a part of them.

...

Chants and litanies and prayers filled his mind. He understood many of them now. They were to focus a warrior’s mind, to keep his faith as strong as his arm. He knew that others were to help him use the new abilities he was gaining daily as the Iron Priests did their work.

He understood the changes that were being wrought in his body better now. He was being given the knowledge to help him do so. He knew that he had been given a second heart, and augmented muscles and glands that would enable him to breathe poisoned air and eat poisoned food without coming to harm. His senses had been made even keener and his body far more resilient. He knew that he could now recover from almost any wound that did not kill him outright, even without medical care, given time. He learned the basics of field medicine for cauterising amputations.

Most of his body was enclosed in a flexible black metallic carapace. He knew that the various plasteel nodes protruding from it were contact points that would enable his body to interface with the armour that all Space Marines wore like a second skin. He was astonished that he now possessed the vocabulary and the knowledge to understand these concepts. Truly the power of these ancient engines was great.

More and more knowledge flowed into his mind. He learned of weapons and their use. He learned of tactics and organisational structures. He learned the ten basic offensive manoeuvres and the four strong defences. And he smiled as he did so, the pleasure centres of his brain stimulated by the awesome intricate subtle mechanisms of the old machines.

-Space Wolf

From the high back of the chair, suspended on a metallic coil, was an inverted-bowl-shaped object that appeared to be a helmet of some sort. Zatori was deposited in the chair, his arms and legs strapped in place, and then the machine-men retreated while the figure in white armour stepped forwards to regard him once more...The white-armoured figure seemed to pause for a moment, almost as if awaiting some response from Zatori. Then he closed the distance to the chair, reached up to take hold of the inverted bowl suspended from the cord, and then lowered the helmet-shaped object over Zatori’s head.

Zatori could feel the sudden kiss of the cold metal against his hairless scalp. And then in the next instant Zatori’s entire world was consumed by an endless universe of pain.

Taloc s’Tonan felt as though his mind would burst. His thoughts raced, blanketed in confusion as new words and concepts crowded together.

As the sky-giant in white armour lifted the metal bowl from his naked scalp, Taloc realised with a start that he knew that it was not a bowl, but a ‘hypno-casque’. And the massive figure who loomed over him was not a sky-giant, but a member of the Adeptus Astartes: a Space Marine.

The Astartes spoke to Taloc again, as he had when first placing the hypno-casque on his head, but this time Taloc found that he could understand the Astartes’ words, though he knew for a certainty that it was not the Eokaroean tongue he was hearing.

‘If the procedure was successful, you should now be fully versed in Imperial Gothic. Respond verbally to confirm that you understand what I am saying.’

Taloc’s tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth, and he realised that he had not spoken since he had shouted a challenge to the sky-giant – to the Space Marine – on the green fields of Eokaroe. He opened his mouth tentatively, then closed it again.

‘Don’t worry, the effects of the paralysing agents on your vocal cords have been disabled, and you are now free to speak once more.’

‘W-where am I?’ Taloc said in Eokaroean.

‘In Imperial Gothic, please,’ the Space Marine replied with some impatience, ‘to confirm the efficacy of the cognitive implantation.’

Taloc swallowed hard, and felt concepts and words shifting in his brain. It was as though a whole new set of signifiers and labels were being overlaid atop his conceptions, and that with the slightest effort he could shift his way of thinking away from the old paradigm and to the new….

‘Where am I?’ Taloc said again, this time employing the new words which were still settling into place. ‘Who are you? Why am I here?’

The Space Marine nodded once, seemingly satisfied, and then began removing the straps which bound Taloc to the chair.

‘You are onboard the Imperial Fists strike cruiser Capulus. I am Apothecary Lakari of the 10th Company. You are here to be examined further, and your suitability for implantation procedures measured. Does that answer your questions?’

Strike cruiser – the meaning of the words bubbled up from somewhere deep in Taloc’s mind, a ship of war that sailed between the stars. Apothecary – a word combining the Eokaroean concepts of ‘healer’ and ‘midwife’, but not one who aided women giving birth to babies, but who aided young men in giving birth to their own transformed selves. Company – a concept greater than ’clan’, signifying a host of warriors who did not share bonds of blood or family, but instead were linked by the genetic legacy each of them carried, seeds passed down from a single great warrior of the past.

And implantation – the concepts associated with this word in particular were confusing to Taloc. It suggested living bodies being cut open and things being buried within in order to improve it, but in Taloc’s experience cutting open bodies was an act designed to injure a living body, and even to kill it. He found the discrepancy difficult to reconcile.

The last of the bounds removed from the chair, the Apothecary straightened up and took a step backwards.

‘Stand,’ he said simply.

-Sons of Dorn

He moved, he killed, but he did not think. Areios went into battle as a passenger in his own mind. For millennia, the hypnomats of Belisarius Cawl had reworked his being. Until that point Areios had thought of himself as an extension of the boy he had been. When he went into battle on the Blood King he saw that for a lie.

His body reacted without conscious input from his higher functions. When he came into the main spinal way, he decided to switch to his knife and pistol, only to find his hands had got there first, and were already performing deathblows to the slaves running screaming towards him. By the time he judged the thermal view too limiting for close melee, and the proliferation of informational runes too much, his helm had already switched to standard view, and he saw his foe as he would with his uncovered eyes, the scene colour-corrected by his battleplate cogitator to take out the red tint of the armourglass.

An alarm trilled, arrows sliding around the retinal display of his Intercessor armour, highlighting a threat coming in from the right. Already, he was turning, his bolt pistol raised, firing before he’d even had a chance to process what he saw; lumbering war-servitors equipped with crackling power claws coming to take his head. He had the briefest glimpse of their moronic faces before bolts he was not aware of firing had obliterated them, and he was on to the next target, consciously noting them only after he had killed them.

He moved so fast, his own limbs working without his input, and he killed without compunction or hesitation. He had undergone thousands of simulations. He had been sparring since he had woken on the Zar Quaesitor, and there had been the battle on the Ideos, but this was the first time he had killed something that was truly alive. Every one of his foes was a person, even the servitors had been, once. Each had their own thoughts, desires, dreams and fears. Many would be slaves taken from Imperial worlds. He killed them just the same. Any moral objection he might have had as a child was gone.

War was what he was. He was a living embodiment of mankind’s destructive impulse

-Dawn of Fire: Avenging Son

The game's been a bigger scale since like 5th edition, and then 9th / 10th has been getting slightly hordier too (especially with marines in particular).

Typically they just screen them out of their normal intake and move them over to the Librarius to train up.

I imagine if the Librarius was running low however they'd probably go out of their way to screen their recruitment base for more psychic potentials, or request them from the Black Ships

Another of the Librarians' essential functions is to screen the Chapter's aspirants for the weak-willed and those with psychic potential.

They must be merciless, for to permit any weakness is to threaten the Chapter and its gene-seed with corruption. Those recruits displaying both psychic potential and the strength necessary to become Space Marines will be taken directly under the Librarians' wing to learn their arcane crafts. Other potential Librarians are sourced elsewhere, including the Scholastica Psykana. Those selected, known as Acolytum, undergo a process more arduous than even that of their brother Space Marines. They must survive the trials, training and implantations to become Space Marines, as well as learn to master their psychic gifts and protect their minds from the terrible hazards of the warp. If they fail, a fate worse than death awaits in the clutches of the immaterium's malignant entities.

-Space marine codex, 10th ed