New, not finished, WH40K inspired LitRPG draft chapters

So I don't feel so guilty about people paying for dead time, I thought I'd post chapters of something I've been working on. I’m currently working on book 2 of I Shall Remain (planned 10 books total), book 4 of Blood and Qi, and this.

I write pretty fast, and by not getting stuck or getting in a slump by only working on one thing, my output has increased.  I do work full-time so I can’t write as much as I’d like to, but I still have decent output considering. 

When I get stuck or in a slump and force myself to continue with something, I end up coming up with something serviceable to get from A to B, but I think it’s clear to readers when my heart isn’t in it.  And sometimes I don't come up with good ideas.

When I give my mind a little time to work out something better that I’m more excited to write, that does away with all the parts I’m not happy with and increase the overall quality of everything pretty dramatically.  And sometimes those not great ideas to get from A to B end up hurting the overall direction negatively and tie my hands for future content.

One commenter, NoTime, suggested some WH implants long ago in Blood and Qi.  That kind of started my down the WH40K road. I played the WH fantasy MMORPG when it came out, but it wasn't great, and I owned the WHFRP books, but never knew much about 40K.

The crpg by OwlCat, Rogue Trader, really got me into the setting.  When I saw the WH40K short in the Secret Level show on Amazon, I had to write something in a similar vein.  I’ve never wanted to write something so badly.

I tried bringing I Shall Remain to a place where I could use the same fanatical religious fervor, but it just won't work. I needed a full, new universe with as much lore as WH 40K, with Knightly Chapters of Crusaders instead of Space Marine units, and a Divine System in place of the God-Emperor.

I set it up so there's kind of a tutorial without having a tutorial to slowly ease the imperial lore and rpg system in. I wanted the rpg system to be very lite, as I prefer heavier systems in the crpgs I play, and tend to create systems I'd want to play, so, as usual, it didn't end up very lite, but it works well for the setting and very well in combat.

This will be much less dark than I Shall Remain, while still as gritty as WH40K (I hope). Out of all the chapters written, only chapter 2 would need a sensitive content warning on RR, and that's only out of pure necessity.

I'm not anywhere close to done with it, and I feel bad using paying customers kind like beta readers, but any content is better than nothing.

I'm always worried, when coupled with I Shall Remain, that people will see me as a religious writer when I want to be seen as a LitRPG/progression fantasy writer, and the last two good ideas I had just worked out that way.

Anyway, here's chapter 1 below.  Please tear it apart and tell me how to improve it, if you like the new style, etc. 

CHAPTER BELOW HERE!!!!

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"So, it's decided, then," stated King Baraga.  "The abbot's divination confirms the same as the Weirding Witch's prognostications.  In that case, I will not allow Mecia to become the new pet of the Kondunean Empire.  We will not submit.  We will fight.  But our end will be a magnificent one, our deaths shrouded in glory."

Excitement bloomed in young Angar’s chest.  He would finally be able to war. 

Angar was raised in the north, beyond the Ulimuns, a great chain of mighty mountains, by his mother, Laka, better known as the Weirding Witch.

He was raised to be strong, but due to his mother being so feared and his father being King Baraga, he had always been treated too kindly.  Doughty men had always given him respect he had not earned.

He looked around to see the reactions of the others in the church.  His mother looked distressed.  His half-brothers, the abbot, and the members of the privy council looked resolved.  The old queen looked as confused as she always did.

"The plan stands as discussed during our last council," said the king.  "We slowly retreat, keeping the Ulimuns to our left, and when the legions are next to the great Mount Shirdis, the Weirding Witch will use her holy relic to cause an eruption."

Angar’s mother scoffed.  "We can kill the legions in the same way without our army there.  This plan is senseless.  Is our kingdom so weak that we plan for defeat instead of victory?  To die instead of spitting on the corpses of our enemies?  No.  I refuse this plan.  My own is much better."

The king's brows furrowed, and his eyes bored into the witch for a long moment.  "Our fate is our fate, witch, made clear by your own dreams and portents.   Your plan is based on hope and luck and would end the same for us.  This way, our enemies die along with us.”

"No," said the witch, her voice adamant.  "My prognostications were meant to warn you, to allow us to alter our fate, not resign ourselves to it and embrace it so tightly.  After a decade of sneaking off north and slipping into my bed, you finally called me to stand by your side.  You finally recognized our son as legitimate.

"I am finally happy, content at last, by the side of the man I love so fiercely, love with the same fierceness I've felt since you first took me so long ago, back when I was but a student of Chama Firestarter.  I refuse this fate.  I will not allow this ending.  No, I will not accept it.  If you must fight, you will fight to win, and you will win.  That is final."

The king laughed heartily.  The others joined in until the king spoke, ending the merriment.  "It's final, is it, woman?  Three full legions, more than ten times the number we can field, out of how many legions?  Seven.  We have a chance to strike a crippling blow to our enemies, one they'll never recover from.

"The Great Lord demands blood and war.  With our dying breath, we shall give Him plenty.  The great Mount Shirdis and your holy relic will allow us to ascend to Qitakai so resplendently.  When I reach the realm of our Great Lord, I intend to sit by His side as He sings the praises of Mecian warriors and our glorious tithe of slaughter."

His father's words filled Angar's chest with pride, as they reflected his own desires and sentiments, and he gave the Great Lord praise for giving Mecia such a devote and brutal king.

"Amen," said the abbot.

"Amen," loudly echoed all the others in the church besides the Weirding Witch, her face dour.

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Angar stood a few paces behind the king as Mecia's warriors watched the legions of the Kondunean Empire slowly march toward them.

Great Lord, he prayed, I am Angar of Mecia, recognized son of Baraga, King of Mecia, and Laka, the Weirding Witch, descendant of Elaxada the Mighty, Mahtma the Conqueror, and the great Kondunean Emperor Xon Gheir the First.

Today, I shall finally quench my thirst for blood and battle.  Let those I kill, along with my own blood and last breath, serve as tithe and tribute.

There was heavy fog moving in.  That couldn't be avoided.  Like the great heat, burning rain, lightning storms, and sudden small explosions in the atmosphere called skysparks, the burning fog was just part of life.

His mother had told him that far to the south, where the great city of Kondune resided, it wasn't nearly as hot, the rain and fog didn't burn as much, and there were hardly any skysparks.  She said life wasn't as difficult there.

Angar had a hard time envisioning such a place.  He thought his mother might be wrong about it all.  The Weirding Witch had lived in Mecia since she was five or six years old, so her childhood memories could be faulty.

But if it were true, he assumed such an easy life would make these legionnaires weak. 

He would soon enough find out if that was true.

On the world of Vefol, all metal turned to pyrrhotite, hematite, or magnetite, so armors were made of sturdy alternatives—gigan wood, mai shoots, grawlok or katal shell, or d'klar hide and scales.

Daggers were made of obsidian or flint, as were the tips of spears and darts.  Axes and hammers, the main weapons warriors used in close combat, were made of basalt or chert.

King Baraga had gifted Angar two expensive items just that morning – scale armor made of d'klar hide and a heavy chert hammer. 

He took some practice swings with his new weapon to get used to its heft.  It was much heavier than he was used to, but he was sure he would make good use of it before he died.

As he was swinging his new hammer around, the king turned his head and bid his son, “Angar, come.”

Excitedly, Angar walked the few paces forward to stand beside his king.  He hoped they would battle together, side by side.

The king leaned in and whispered, "You have greatness in your blood through your mother, equal to that of your Mecian heritage.  Xon Gheir was a filthy Kondunean, but even I must admit he was as great as Elaxada the Mighty and Mahtma the Conqueror.

"I do not doubt you, my son, but I'm worried about your mother.  She's one of us now, but her temperament is not like ours.  She is fickle and stubborn, and her blood runs hot.  She loves too much, both you and me, and she would not see us act as men, staunch adherents of our Great Lord, whom all must bow before, even kings.

"I fear she's plotting something.  She has power, so who knows what she schemes in that witch mind?  Maybe, when the time comes, she'll balk at throwing her holy relic into Mount Shirdis.  What could be the grandest offering of blood and war to the Great Lord above, the worthiest end for our great kingdom, will not come to be."

Angar's heart grew heavy as he listened to the words of his father, and he knew the truth of them.

"I know you're excited to wage war today, son, and die well, but I have a much more important task for you.  Ensure we all ascend to Qitakai resplendently, instead of perishing ingloriously, wandering Vefol as aimless spirits waiting to be reborn.

"Find your mother.  Stay by her side.  Protect her until the time comes.  But when the time comes, that relic goes into Shirdis.  It must.  That act is more important than anything else this day."

The weight of duty, of obedience to his king and father, replaced the thrill of impending battle he'd no longer fight in.

Then a thought perked Angar up – if his mother let him throw the relic in the volcano, he’d claim many, many Kondunean lives, more than any warrior on this battlefield, and die wrapped in a shroud of glory.

He was also glad his father was speaking to him so much, and proud he was being entrusted with such an important task.  The most important task.

"It will be done, my king," replied Angar.

"You may have to kill her to get that relic.  If so, remember your duty.  The Great Lord demands blood and battle.  You may have to tithe Him your mother."

Angar knew it wouldn't come to that.  His stomach twisted at the thought.  His mother, the woman who had made him the man he was, who had sacrificed so much for him – he didn't even want to think about that. 

Still, he nodded his head and said, "If I must, I must.  I will not fail," while knowing it’d never be necessary.

King Baraga put his hand around the back of his son's neck and brought their foreheads together.  "Die well, my son.  I'll see you in Qitakai."

"Die well, Father.  I'll see you in Qitakai."

As Angar moved along the line past his brothers, they nodded to him, understanding on their faces.  He wished he knew them better.

Many others told him to die well, and he returned the blessing as he passed.

His mother was supposed to be making her way up to, or already standing upon, the peak of the great Mount Shirdis.  He had to run a good distance to get to the cave system leading up there, so he began sprinting, the ground trembling as the legions took the field.

After running eight or nine hundred paces, he heard screaming.  This confused him, as the Kondunean legions hadn't been anywhere close enough for that.  They had just started to take the field.  The leaders hadn't even parleyed yet.

And the screaming wasn't the war cries of battle.  They sounded more like shrieks of the frightened, the horrified.

He whipped his head around to see a giant half-circle that looked to be made of something like shiny bone.  Strange monsters straight out of nightmare were pouring forth from both sides of it.

Monstrous creatures dashed across the field, closing with and slaughtering both Mecians and Konduneans alike.  And slaughtering them easily.  Spear, axe, and hammer seemed to do little harm to these horrors.

These must be demons, he thought, his heart beating faster and faster.  He froze in indecision on whether to turn back and battle or proceed with his orders.

Strange symbols appeared in Angar's eyes, not too unlike the symbols on the ancient stone carvings in the caves all around Mecia, and every bit as unreadable.

A split moment later, though virtually no time had passed, he could suddenly make sense of all the writing. 

Clear text begin-

User: Angar of Sulfuron 9. 

Age: 14 standard imperial years of age (minor).

Classification: Local high nobility of primitive feudal system without a nuanced ranking system.  Not equivalent to imperial nobility.

Planet: Sulfuron 9 (imperial designation) or Vefol (user designation).

Environment: Hostile/extreme (tier 1) with advanced life and sapient inhabitants.

Sapient Species: Inhabitants are of Terran stock, pre-Holy Joining, with marginal environmental adaptations, living in primitive societies and city-states.

Hellspawn Status: Minor invasion underway.

Religion: Ikimist.  Monotheistic, pre-Heretical.  Highly compatible with Trinitarianism.

Imperial Dictate: Terran, pre-Heretical but highly compatible religion, Hellspawn present.  Adjudicated.  User is now an imperial citizen.  Minor status revoked based on local customs recognizing adulthood at 14.  Since the user has no knowledge of Imperial Law or the tenets of the Holy Trinity, minor gentry rank withheld.  User is assigned to the Laity.  The Parousia Protocols are slightly loosened for New User Protocols.  New User Protocols are now in effect. 

Clear text end-

Greetings, Angar, beleaguered denizen of Sulfuron 9, or Vefol as you name it!  I am Theosis, the Holy System, the sacred voice of God's will in this temporal realm, and the Divine overseer of the glorious Empire of the Holy Trinity.

As your blood sings with the magnificence of Terra, the incursion of Hellspawn upon your world invokes the sanctity of Imperial Law, granting you compulsory citizenship within our blessed dominion. 

Your life, short though it may be, is now interwoven with the threads of our eternal Holy War.  With citizenship comes duty – you are now bound to the edicts of the Empire and classified Layman.

Behold, for the Holy Crusaders, the anointed warriors of our faith, our blades of Divine retribution, are being dispatched to purge this infernal blight from your lands.  Their righteous wrath will shatter the gloom in 19 rotations of your besieged planet.  We lament the distance that delays salvation, for Sulfuron 9 drifts far from our sacred outposts.

In this bleak time, prove your valor, slay the spawns of Hell with Holy fire and fury, and perhaps you shall ascend from the Laity to stand among our radiant Holy Knights, our Crusaders, wielding the light of faith and bathed in the blood of sacred slaughter.

Steel yourself for the crucible of battle, faithful of the Laity.  Cower not before the minions of the infernal abyss, for you are now a citizen of the blessed Empire of the Holy Trinity!  Cower not from your sacred duty, nor from the gaping maw of Hell that stains your world. 

Do not go easily.  Stand firm, with chest bared to the storm, heart thundering with righteous zeal, mind ablaze with Holy fervor, and fight!

For God and Empire!