Adeptus Administratum Sage Albrecht Bruegel

Pitäisi valita?

You gain your choice of Logic (Int) as a trained Basic skill or the Peer (Academic) Talent.
You also gain your choice of +3 Intelligence or +3 Fellowship, but you suffer –3 Toughness.
You gain any one Scholastic Lore (your choice) (Int) as a Trained Skill.

WS 34 BS 35 S 28 T 30 Ag 31 Int 34 Per 34 WP 29 Fel 28 Inf 28
Movement: 3/6/12/NA Wounds: Armor: 0/0/3/0 Fate: 4 Insanity: 4 Corruption: 1
Skills: Commerce, Common Lore (Adeptus Administratum), Forbidden Lore (Pick one), Heraldry, Linguistics (High Gothic), Logic, Trade (Scrimshawer), Scholastic Lore (Pick one, Pick one, Heraldry),
Talents: Weapon Training (Solid), Clues from the Crowds, Strong Minded
Traits: Unnatural Strength
Gear: Stub Automatic, Imperial Robes, Auto-quill, Chrono, Data-slate, Medi-kit, Archaic Hydraulic Exo-skeleton (Unnatural Strength, body armor 3, may not run)

  • Stub Automatic Pistol Rng: 30m Shots: S/3/– Dam: 1d10+3 I Pen: 0 Clip: 9 Rld: Full Wght: 1.5kg

Special: Master of Paperworks (Rarity level 1 down)
Quest for Knowledge, May spend fate to succeed Logic or Lore check.
Child of the Dark: A voidborn character starts with the Strong Minded talent, and gains a +30 bonus to tests for moving in a zero gravity environment.
Twist of Fate: Even one who has nothing can still offer his life.
When this character burns Fate threshold to survive a lethal injury, roll 1d10. On a
result of 10, he survives whatever grievous wound would have killed him but does
not reduce his Fate threshold.
Things Man Was Not Meant to Know: You may gain a single Forbidden Lore Skill pertaining to your experiences (or may increase a Forbidden Lore Skill you already possesses by one level), or may gain the Resistance (Fear) Talent.
Marked by Darkness: Haunted by your experiences, you gain 1d5 Insanity Points.

Aptitudes: Intelligence, Knowledge, Perception, Tech, Willpower, Social

XP left: 2900

Career path: Subordinate -> Menial ->Archivist -> Scrivener -> Cypherist -> Scribe -> Ordinate -> Officio Inquisitorus: Inditor -> Officio Inquisitorus: Scholar

Homeworld: Void Born

Solar nomads and planetary outcasts living out lives in the inky blackness between worlds; touched by celestial winds and their closeness to the Warp, they are often shunned by all but
their own kind.

“Of course I want walls. How can you possibly live with all that nothing around you?”
–Unjo Re’Asmulle, after stepping onto the plains of Attila

Voidborn spend their lives in the expanses of space, growing up on ancient orbital stations, generation vessels, merchant freighters, or remote asteroid outposts. They spend much of their lives without the stability of a real world beneath their feet, knowing the cold, deadly grasp of empty space is only a few metres of bulkhead away. This makes them exceptionally skilled
when it comes to living on voidships and space stations, more so than any who have spent their lives crawling around in the dirt of a world. It also often makes them strange even amidst other Imperial subjects, tall and willowy, hairless, or with large dark eyes.
Living so close to the still blackness of the void also touches their souls. There is something deeply odd about the voidborn, something intangible that lurks below the surface, writhing in the dark like the Warp lurks below space itself, waiting and watching for its moment to surface.

Life in the void
For the Imperium to emerge, Mankind has conquered the stars, and so space travel is a constant across the galaxy. Billions cross the void as they travel from one world to the next or safeguard
the shipping lanes. Over the millennia, more and more of the Imperium’s infrastructure and control has extended into the depths of space, until many worlds boast dozens—if not hundreds—of transports, voidships, and orbital stations. Generations are born and die here, never setting foot on the surface of a planet. Even those that spend long periods in space, such as the crew of a Rogue Trader’s ship, cannot compare to the natural affinity the voidborn has with life between worlds.

Much like a hive city or the factories of a forge world, a voidship or space station can become a completely closed society for its inhabitants, and some voidborn might never consider what
lies beyond the sealed walls and bulkheads. More than a few might not even know that they are in space, growing up seeing the interior of their ship as the limits of their world and never questioning what lies beyond. It is possible for primitive civilisations to thrive here, living by an intuitive understanding of how the ship’s life support systems function. Even voidborn acquainted with the stars are indoctrinated into the ritual of maintaining their floating home, from an early age made acutely aware of the price that negligence can cost their family. Death is the constant companion of the voidborn, the blackness of space a reminder of its finality.
While others might have the comfort of high blue skies to protect them from the dark, the voidborn has only the honest plasteel and sturdy airlocks of their home. Living so close to the cold embrace of space makes men very conscious of their own mortality and the mortality of those around them. All know that a broken seal, fractured bulkhead, or failed radiation shield could wipe out their society in a matter of minutes.

Voidborn characters
Living in outer space brings with it more dangers than the mere lack of gravity, oxygen, or warmth. It also brings one closer to the Warp and the malign touch of the dark powers that live just beyond the sight of man. Travel across the stars means travel through the Warp, and each journey leaves the soul one small step closer to daemonic perils. This grants the voidborn unique advantages over their fellow man, beyond just an intimate understanding of life aboard a ship or station. Voidborn are naturally touched by the Warp, and many seem more sensitive to psychic powers and the stain they can leave upon the material universe. Voidborn also often have an innate sense for their artificial surroundings. With just a sniff of the air or a moment’s attention to the myriad creaks and hums within a vessel, they can usually tell everything from the state of the air scrubbers to how well the plasma reactors are faring.
Voidborn often find themselves in spacefaring vocations, such as in the Imperial Navy, the Adeptus Mechanicus, or civilian merchant vessels. A lifetime spent aboard stellar craft can make
the gravity of a world feel too heavy, the air too rich, and the sunlight too bright for sensitive eyes and pale skin. Fortunately, the Imperium has a significant presence in the emptiness between worlds, and there is always a need for humans to serve without ever descending into the gravity well of a planet.
Voidborn can be counted among prominent organisations like the Imperial Guard or Administratum. They are more naturally Outcasts, though; it is far easier for them to work those
areas which exist outside the structured classes of the Imperium.
Voidborn also know how to walk within the shadows, operating as criminals, pirates, and scavengers. In many cases, the voidborn find acceptance hard to come by, as the people of their home ship or station are the only ones who will ever truly understand them and welcome them without suspicion or prejudice.

Background: Adeptus Administratum

The great bureaucracy of tithes and tallies that holds the Imperium together and keeps it running; they keep the lore, histories, and secrets of a million worlds so that the Imperium
might prosper.

“Our records show that datum is located in the tertiary infocrypt of the fifth vault-level. I can arrange for an expedition to retrieve it, however.”
–Honsa Illum, Data Warden of the Primary Tier

Such is the size and scope of the Imperium that it takes an innumerable legion of scribes, officials, and bureaucrats to maintain it. Connected across the stars on a web of scribbled notes and secret data caches, the Administratum is a lumbering behemoth, churning at a speed only slightly higher than deathly rest as it ensures that every planet has paid its due and contributed to the Imperium’s continuation. Without the Administratum, the Imperium would dissolve into madness and mayhem. It would be cut off not only from those hidden hands that guide its wealth and resources, but also from its history and the centuries of secrets kept deep within the data vaults of the Imperium’s largest organisation.

Role within the Imperium
The Adeptus Administratum, as the name implies, administers the operation of the Imperium. The Imperium survives on a system of tithes, where each world gives men and resources to the Emperor for the protection of all Mankind. The Administratum decides how to use the tithed goods, whether it is to raise an army, evacuate a world, or eradicate a xenos species, all for the betterment of the Imperium. So closely are the workings of the Administratum woven into the fabric of the Imperium that none can escape its attention, and every world has hundreds, if not thousands, of officials and adepts devoted to overseeing its obligations. In many ways, the Imperium is the Administratum, and more than the stern faces of Imperial Guardsmen or the zealous gaze of Ministorum clerics, it represents the hand of the Emperor and His control over
all men throughout the galaxy.
The Administratum observes a rigid hierarchy within its ranks to carry out endless tasks. Some adepts are charged with recordkeeping, living out their lives in huge data tombs. Here they might spend their days cataloguing endless new texts, carefully recording everything so that after they are dead, another can catalogue their catalogues, and so on in an eternal cycle. Some may do the reverse, burning records deemed heretical or no longer in compliance with the Imperial truth. Most Administratum adepts spend their time sifting through reams of information or completing endless reports. They pass these on to other adepts, all in small ways contributing to the Administratum’s greater—but still greatly limited—understanding of the Imperium and its status. This is still only a poor glimpse of factual reality, and usually so out of date that it is worthless for practical use. Some lords within the Administratum are acutely aware of this, but still work on as they cannot imagine any other method to maintaining the Imperium.
Many others blindly operate the same way, blissfully ignorant of the futility of their work. Because the Administratum works on all levels of Imperial society, and processes such enormous quantities of information, those within its ranks can sometimes gain understanding of the workings of the Imperium unlike any other. However, this can be as incorrect or antiquated as the data they process. Often possessing talents unknown to others, such as the knowledge of arcane languages, data cyphers, and numerical manipulations, an Administratum adept can detect meaning where others only see random scribblings or base nonsense. This is due in part to the slow decay of knowledge into rote learning on many Imperial worlds, but it is also due to the Administratum’s secretive nature.
It jealously guards its holdings, and uses specialised codes, insular lexicons, and technical cant. An Administratum adept is the key to unlocking this secret world of records and information, and bringing its considerable might to bear can be vital to finding a single citizen among millions, clearing important cargo through quarantine, unravelling a strange local weather pattern, or performing any one of a thousand other tasks.

Brilliant minds with a talent for numbers, logic, and cyphers; dedicated scholars and savants brimming with knowledge and lore, they are keepers of truths, and possess an unrivalled understanding of the galaxy.

“They thought the data-caches lost or destroyed, but I hold proof that neither is true.”
–Pellucidan Toom, Desoleum Infomagister

Such is the unimaginable depth of information the Imperium deals with that only Acolytes specially trained or augmented to understand can hope to use it with any degree of skill. Sages are talented individuals known by many names, such as Autosavants, Lexmechanics, and Calculus Logi.
They are often members of the Adeptus Administratum or Adeptus Mechanicus, and trusted with the storing and cataloguing of huge amounts of data. Comprising millions of worlds and billions of souls, the Imperium exists in many ways only on the yellowing parchments of a scrivener’s tally sheets, dusty dataslates piled in forgotten shelves, and gigantic data-crypts larger than many cities. Sages record, store, and navigate the mountains of data the Imperium accumulates each day. They can see patterns that others cannot, making connections to either retrieve or uncover data considered lost or unattainable, and translating it into useful knowledge for those around them. It is a process that takes great mental strength and skill, and often the implanted aid of artificial cogitator arrays or logis circuits that provide swifter reasoning and retention of facts. Sages have the ability to access the thousands of years of sorted Imperial data to find missing secrets, or making leaps of logic to identify them when they remain elusive.

The role of the sage
Knowledge is power, and a Sage is a repository of much of the Imperium’s knowledge, having spent his life sifting through reams of data and tracing the patterns that link the great organisations and sectors of the Imperium together. While the Hierophant concerns himself with the teachings of the Imperial Creed, and the Mystic looks into the beyond for answers, the Sage knows that truth already exists, one just needs to know where to look for it.
There are few Acolytes with minds as keen as that of the Sage, able to process such huge amounts of information and weed out the gems of fact from the torrents of lies. A Sage knows not just how to read and comprehend endless streams of information, but where they came from and where they lead. The result of these talents is sometimes the ability to use logic to unlock enigmas that seemingly have no answers, making leaps of reason to come to new conclusions, whether it is deciphering an alien tongue, or determining an opposing organisation’s next move.
To a Sage, everything is a puzzle, a code to be deciphered and defeated piece by piece. He thrives on data, and sees patterns where others only see chaos. A Sage becomes a store of information and a font of knowledge, using his craftiness and intelligence to guide the blunt instruments of those more focused toward combat. Even in open conflict, he can be found directing fire and identifying weaknesses in his enemies, proving that a modicum of knowledge applied at the right time can have devastating consequences. His own battlefield is in dealing with the Administratum, planetary governments, and local authorities. Where others become lost or confounded with levels of bureaucracy, he sees though the administrative entanglements and cuts right to the heart of things.
Coupled with the power of the Inquisition, there are few things he cannot achieve within the framework of Imperial authority, be it bringing in reinforcements, diverting supplies, or even locking down entire cities through manipulation of planetary agencies.
Sages tend to know a little bit about everything; even if they have not studied the subject expansively, there is always a good chance that they have come across it in one of their other research endeavours. Even when presented with a subject which they know little or nothing about, it takes them little time to process new information or engage in extensive research. This often makes them exceptional strategists, their natural inclination to observe and report often more effective than the reckless violence most Imperial forces would advocate.
The common drawback of the Sages’ obsession with data and information is that they can never be sated or feel they have learned enough, always seeking out the next piece of lore or next hidden fact to add to their great cache of secrets. It is a drive that sees them poring over inconsequential data and useless trivia, endlessly reading and researching, often to the detriment of the task at hand.
The wealth of knowledge they keep within their heads can also cause them to be oblivious to current concerns, mix up past and present, or shift conversations to places and peoples unknown to their present company. It is a sickness for which there is no cure, with only the steady stream of new information to keep it in check and the constant presence of one task after another to occupy the their busy minds.

Sage characters
Information is everywhere, writ across the many worlds of the Imperium in the movements and structures of its societies and the staggering data stores of the Adeptus Administratum. Sage
characters can draw upon this information, whether they are members of the Administratum or another of the Imperium’s great organisations. Sages of the Adeptus Mechanicus on hive and
forge worlds are constantly linked to the ebb and flow of figures that crosses their world, gigatonnes of parchment, or even purely aetherical information streams that exist without physical form.
Drawn into the web of data, they exist only to learn and reach deeper and deeper into the lore of the Imperium. After coming to the notice of an Inquisitor, Sages can move on to more valuablepastures of information, and should they prove mentally strong enough, can immerse themselves in the endless well of secrets over which the Inquisition resides.
Those with other origins often have different functions, becoming chroniclers and lore keepers of their own world’s history and secrets. A voidborn Sage might have absorbed all there is to know about the class of vessel or type of station on which his clan lives, and much about the movement of the stars themselves.
A feral world Sage might be a storyteller or bard to his people, collecting centuries of tales and legends, as well as a wealth of lore about its plants, wildlife, and weather patterns. A shrine world Sage likely served as a scholar of the Imperial Creed, and knows extensively about the saint his world is famed for, to the point where his specific knowledge on the subject outstrips even that of the local Ministorum hierarchy. In all these forms, a Sage is the most learned of his people, well-known if not necessarily wellrespected for his obsessive gifts for analysing and extracting theendless data that defines the Imperium.


To the scholar’s ear, there is no worse sound than the tearing of parchment. It always marks a desecration of one sort or another, be it a priceless work lost or a savant destroying his own fl wed labours in disgust. You know this because the murmuring of savants, clicking of lexmachinery, and scent of ink and dust have been a part of your life for as long as you can recall. Apprentices are brought young into the Adept’s trade, for there is much to learn and the human span holds little time to learn it in. Apprentices sit in attendance at meeting after meeting between elder savants, bathed in the exchange of knowledge until they know how to learn and the correct knowledge has been drilled into them. All the galaxy is packed with knowledge, and even the smallest drop of it would fill the minds of a world of savants to bursting. Yet you derive much comfort from learning—even though you could never personally know more than a miniscule fraction of all there is to know.

New Horizons: Seeker of the Truth

There’s a whole galaxy out there that’s full of the unknown. A select few seek out the hidden knowledge of the cosmos and the truths of existence. They pore over ancient lore and texts, something deep within them driving them ever onward. Some seek out the technology of the past, hoping to seize it for their own use or for use by a powerful patron, as they traverse the galaxy studying ancient ruins and decrepit tombs. A rare few walk a dangerous line as they seek out and study knowledge and lore concerning the various works of the xenos. All of these endeavours are perilous, for in the Imperium knowledge can lead to a life of persecution, misery
and insanity—but many are willing to brave the risks, for the rewards are great indeed.

Seeker of Truth
You have always been inquisitive, and within Imperial society, this is a trait highly frowned upon. Thus, you have had to strike out and follow your own path through librariums going from one mystery to the next. You have a thirst for knowledge that has brought you out into the Imperial worlds of knowledge.

Character story choices:

  1. Perhaps you seek to decipher the riddle of why a particular precursor race vanished.
  2. Maybe you’re seeking an empirical truth, or enlightenment that you know must be somewhere in the cosmos.
  3. Perhaps you simply want validation to a theory you have. Regardless, you are prepared to travel to the ends of the universe to find it.

Cost: 100xp

Dark Encounter

Starport taverns and station galleys are filled with travellers, wanderers, and old voidfarers. Sooner or later, when the lumen globes have dimmed, these folk will tell of the many strange legends they have heard. They tell of hell-hulks crewed by the lost and warp storms that howl with mocking voices, of the things that claw and scratch at the hull waiting for the merest flicker of the Geller Field for the warp to pour in and devour all, and of horrifying xenos encounters and voyages of the damned. But you have no taste for such stories, because you know the truth—you have lived them. You have stared into the eyes of the abyss and lived.

Character story choices:

  1. You witnessed an deamonic possession caused by someone perusing a heretical text.
  2. You catalogued an heretical library to aid an investigation of Inquisitor.
  3. Your curiosity was overwhelmed and you studied a book condemned as a heretical text.

These experiences have marked you, opening your eyes to the darkness that hides beneath the surface of things, and whether you have recoiled in dread or been drawn on in fascination is a truth you keep to yourself.
Things Man Was Not Meant to Know: You may gain a single Forbidden Lore Skill pertaining to your experiences (or may increase a Forbidden Lore Skill you already possesses by one level), or may gain the Resistance (Fear) Talent.
Marked by Darkness: Haunted by your experiences, you gain 1d5 Insanity Points.

Idealist: Art

Aesthetics is a branch of philosophy that deals with the nature of beauty, taste and creed as well as the philosophy of art (its own area of philosophy that comes out of aesthetics). It examines aesthetic values, often expressed through judgments of taste, Ecclesiarchy and Inquisition.

Aesthetics covers both natural and artificial sources of aesthetic experience and judgment. It considers what happens in our minds when we engage with aesthetic objects or environments such as viewing visual art, listening to hymns, reading prayers, witnessing an execution of a heretic, or exploring the Imperium. The philosophy of art specifically studies how artists imagine, create, and perform works of art, as well as how people use, enjoy, and criticize art. Aesthetics considers why people like some works of art and not others, as well as how art can affect moods or even our beliefs. Both aesthetics and the philosophy of art ask questions like “What is art?,” “What is a work of art?,” and “What makes art worthy to the God-Emperor?”