The Imperial Guard: Part 1
A Jumpchain CYOA
By HeavensAnon

The Imperium of Man.

It was founded by the mighty God-Emperor of Mankind and his twenty sons, who began a massive Crusade to see the Imperium cover every star in the galaxy. They would create marvels and wonders even as they cut a bloody swath through the many worlds of mankind in their Great Crusade, from the powerful Adeptus Astartes to what would eventually become the vigilant Inquisition, machines maintained by the Adeptus Mechanicus. It was once led by the best and the brightest, and for a time it appeared that the Emperor’s dream of uncontested human dominance in the galaxy could be a reality.

That was then. This is now.

In the 41st Millennium, the Imperium of Man is a massive galaxy-spanning empire that feeds into a massive war machine that sends billions to death each day. It is the sole bastion of humanity in a universe full of the ravenous whispers of dark Gods, the machinations and bloodlust of the foul xenos who seek to snuff out its light. Though the Imperium still fights for its own survival, it has never returned to the heights it once had - corruption in both bureaucratic structure and the soul festers within it, the faithful are paranoid and self-righteous, the Astartes only fight where they see fit, and the Emperor rests as a rotting corpse on the Golden Throne in unending agony while his sons lay dead, dying, missing, or in the arms of his sworn enemies within the forces of Chaos.

But this is not a story about gods among men, or the machinations of Chaos, or even the xenos who fight for their own dominance or survival. No, this is a story about a bit character that many on all sides continually forget about. One that is swept aside with a brush of fate, a tiny flicker in the darkness that shines just bright enough to become a passing curiosity before being snuffed out.

This is a story about human beings. This is a story about people.

While Adeptus Astartes battle all enemies of mankind while acting as genetic enhancements of their original selves, and the Inquisition’s reach extends far both within and without the Imperium, they cannot do the bulk of the fighting across the Galaxy with their comparatively tiny numbers against their many enemies. The main standing army of the Imperium of Man is the Imperial Guard, a countless billion-billion ordinary men and women who wield little more than ancient, hand-me-down weapons and archaic but sturdy tanks into battle. Ordinary human beings do not live long in this horrific world of war, yet every life spent is another moment the Imperium may continue to fight. And where one falls, ten more will take their place.

They are the bulwark of the Imperium. Its right arm, and its first and final line of defense. Where millions die in battle and millions more will step over the corpses of their nameless, faceless comrades and continue the fight. They will walk, march, and roll treads over the battlefield and do battle to their dying breath. There are no special enhancements. No promised glory. No direct link to the God-Emperor of Mankind they fight for. Just a lasgun, some flak armor, and a prayer.

And even if there is no glory, they will survive and fight another day.

Welcome to the Astra Militarum - The Imperial Guard. These 1000 Choice Points are the Emperor’s currency. Spend it well.

Backgrounds:

Compared to the carefully-selected Space Marines or members of the Inquisition, the soldiers of the Imperial Guard are conscripted en-masse from all walks of life within the Imperium of Man. The humble farmer boy who dreams of seeing the stars, amazonian survivalist of a Death World, a mystically-minded shaman from a Feral World and sometimes even an entire army of posh Nobles from a particular system or Sectorum. Certainly, a unique individual may be carved out in their service to the Guard...though many more simply perish during their service.

In short, this is less about who you are now and more about where you are from. Your age and gender may be decided freely, though you may not begin over the age of 50.

Hm? What if you’ve served longer? A fair point - even outside of the Adeptus Astartes, there are stories of Imperial heroes who live to see centuries, though they are very much the exception and not the rule. I’m afraid that’s not quite the case for you, because you’re not starting from the back of the frontlines or in an office where you delegate command, Jumper. You’re starting as a fresh recruit and are being shipped off on a particular campaign…

Before we get ahead of ourselves, though, let’s start with your new self’s homeworld. Where are you from?


Choose one. You may purchase bonuses from other homeworlds for 200 each, though the Abhuman Physiology bonus can only be purchased once:

Drop-In - ...hm. You just want to remain as yourself? Alright. Your name showed up on your regiment’s records and you just happened to be on the vessel taking you to your new comrades. As far as anyone else is concerned, you look like an ordinary citizen from an Imperial World. Though I will warn you that saying you’re from Holy Terra or ‘Earth’ may raise some eyebrows...and I’d bite my tongue on any remarks on the Imperium or the strange things you’ve seen when the Commissar is nearby.
Bonus: Outsider - You likely possess something that the Imperium and its Inquisition absolutely dreads: An open mind. Strangely, this is more of a benefit than a detriment. Even if you weren’t before, you are an excellent out-of-the-box thinker and unorthodox strategies or solutions (at least by the Imperium’s standards) have a better chance of success. Stranger still, no matter how distant your mindset is from the Imperium, Chaos has difficulty influencing you...you would have to leap into the scheming or corruption of a Daemon through choice for this outlandish thinking to sway your soul to them.

Imperial World - Life in the Imperium is often said to be horrific. Inhumane. But more often than not, life is spent from birth to death on simple, not terribly noteworthy planet within its borders. Your homeworld enjoyed the basic comforts of life - service to the local mayors and lords of the planet, faith in the God-Emperor, and what little knowledge of the galaxy your simple life afforded you. Whether pressed into service or answering the call of duty, you left this comfortable and mundane lifestyle to disappear into the stars and fight for your Emperor.
Bonus: The Emperor’s Luck - Fortune favors the bold. It also favors fools. Whichever you fall under, you have an uncanny talent to survive what usually kills the common Conscript or Guardsman before they ever get the chance to fight back. Stray weapon shells miss you by a hair, the Commissar makes an example of the nameless man next to you instead of yourself, and you manage to be the last person on an evacuation shuttle just before it departs. You will not die from random chance or unhappy circumstances with this luck - though the foe in front of you with a weapon drawn, or someone who has reason to despise you in particular will still do so. I’d also advise against counting on this luck to save you when you choose to charge into the fray against all good sense - fortune’s favor is fickle, after all.

Death World - Since the day you were born, you have lived within death’s shadow. Your planet was unkind and unwelcoming, every bit of flora and fauna designed to bring an excruciating death to any living being that dared to walk within it, and even the land and weather could bring a horrifying end to any too weak to brave it. From the jungles of Catachan to the blasted wasteland of Krieg, you have managed to survive through both grit and luck growing up on such a planet from birth to adulthood. You might even be disappointed that the rest of the galaxy looks a bit tame in comparison.
Bonus: Born Killer - Odds are, your daddy got his head bitten off by a ten-foot tall ugly son of a bitch, and your mama choked on her own Emperor-damned blood after getting a nasty infection from the jungle. The impact it had on you? Eh, tough shit. You’re incredibly hardy in both build and mind, being physically fit and athletic compared to the average Guardsman - and that was BEFORE the drills and training. You start at the physical peak of a normal human being in this world and the reflexes to match - and you can let trauma from death or violence just slide on past your mind. As far as you’re concerned, it’s just another day back home.

Hive World - The mighty cities of the Imperium do not stop at a single metropolis or a collection of continents - they expand miles into the open sky, suffocating the atmosphere with its factories and rusted grandeur. They extend miles beneath the crust of their landmass, and stretch into grand canyons that were once blue oceans. Their populations so numerous that the value of human life is miles below that of a loaf of bread or even a can of soylens, crowded and claustrophobic even within these endless hives. You grew up within it, either part of the machine or struggling to survive in its underbelly. There was no justice or helping hand - only you, your wits, and your determination to survive.
Bonus: The Miserable Ones - You’re used to having to steal and hide in order to live to see another sunrise, and life in the Guard isn’t any different...that Comissar is going to have trouble with you. You know how to blend in easily, particularly within large crowds or urban environments, and can pickpocket an important medal right from an officer’s chest before they have a chance to notice - though I wouldn’t recommend sticking around for very long. This talent also lets you easily smuggle in things like contraband or ‘borrowed’ weapons from others. Finally, you’ll find your roguish behavior is tolerated or even found useful by those higher up than you on an organization ladder...at least, so long as you’re not caught stealing from THEM.

Fortress World - All these bootstrapped, white-striped little boys and girls are just now getting up to speed with what you spent your whole life learning. March, aim, shoot. March, aim, shoot. The Fortress Worlds of the Imperium are entire planets of military installations that many Guardsmen call home - either preparing for deployment elsewhere or holding a critical objective or location to the Imperium for years and years. Long enough for fortresses to be built, and for new generations of soldiers to live and die within. You’re a military child, literally born and bred to bolster the numbers of your homeworld - from nameless corners of the galaxy to the very mouth of hell at the grounds of Cadia. You’ve been preparing your entire life to serve a true tour of duty in the Imperial Guard, and it looks like your chance has finally come.
Bonus: I Am A Soldier - Where others flee, your discipline holds. Where others panic and scatter, you recognize an opening and fight for the objective. Where others miss, you strike with dead on accuracy. You have a natural talent for all things in warfare, from firing your Lasgun to rallying a rout into returning to the fight. Should you live to become a commanding officer, you’ll find you have a talent for tactics and strategy as well. But that’s all this is: Talent. Should you live long enough to turn it into experience, you may yet become one of the greatest heroes of the Imperium. But only should you live where billions more die every day. Practice on the range and recognize the failings and strengths of your commander - you’ll need it.

The Noble - Your family was one of the privileged few, a bloodline tracing their lineage to the great lords and ladies of your home planet. While the Emperor and his Primarchs are said to have sired no heirs beyond their ‘sons’ the Astartes, there are no shortage of blue bloods and aristocratic families across the entire Imperium. Quite literally enough to make entire armies out of, in fact. Whether you are every bit as grand as your blood claims to be, or have entered the Guard out of decadence or disgrace, it’s not unusual for the many, many children of nobles to enter the service of the Astra Militarum. It’s not like they expect such a valued member of the Imperium to dirty their hands with actual battle in some trench somewhere, right?
Bonus: I Will Lead The Charge - Your nobility has given you both eidetic knowledge and practice of etiquette and fluency in High Gothic, but others can subconsciously recognize you as someone of importance - someone who is meant to do great things and be a person of general importance. The benefits are twofold. First, you will be given many opportunities to lead or advise missions of importance or be allowed to give counsel to those above you without them shooting you for speaking out of line. Your advice and input is valued, even if it is not necessarily followed blindly, especially if your advice is a leading factor in success. Secondly, this nepotism will conspire to give you quick promotions or advancements in rank - you may not find yourself in High Command overnight, but if spots just happen to open up from the unfortunate and sudden deaths of your superiors, you’ll find your name near the top of the candidate list.

The Faithful - They are the penitent. The pilgrims. The priests. Those who are united not by a home world but by their faith in the God-Emperor of Mankind. Whether it is belief in the purity of the human race and their destiny in the stars, hatred for the xenos or the heretics who pollute the galaxy with their machinations and corruption of his truth, or even just faith the Golden Throne itself...you carried that torch of faith. Your zeal burned so brightly that the Guard took notice, and found just the right place for you.
Bonus: Faith Is My Shield, Hate Is My Sword - Your faith in the Emperor causes your soul to blaze with a golden light. Not enough to make you a Saint, but elevating your piety into a very real force. Your weapons, be they sword or Lasgun, will deal greater damage to the profane or the unholy. The corruptive influence of the Warp and the blasphemous abilities of Psykers will find you much harder to influence or damage, as well - such deception and unnatural banes wilt under the Emperor’s light.

Schola Progenium - The Imperium has no shortage of martyrs and casualties of war. There is little time for family in a galaxy where there is only war, and the duties the Emperor asks of mankind leaves the children of nobles, priests, and billions of peasants without their parents. The dutiful priests and tutors of the Schola Progenium raise and teach these orphans so that they may be fostered to a new purpose, to enter the Emperor’s service and seize control of their own destinies. And with the martyr’s grave being a keystone of the Imperium, sometimes an entire regiment of these orphans-turned-soldiers are raised…
Bonus: Schola - You were given an education and a discipline that few within the Imperium could even dream of. You have closed your mind off from the stress and pain that would break a common man’s spirit, able to maintain your cool and shake off fear even in the face of overwhelming odds or supernatural terror. In addition, your mind is sharper and is able to quickly notice subtle details that the foolhardy or the overzealous would overlook - you enjoy a photographic memory and an ability to learn new trades and skills more quickly than before.

Penal Colony [+100] - Redemption in the Imperium is found not through penance or a meek apology - you will find your absolution on the fields of battle in His name. Whether you were convicted rightly or wrongfully, it does not matter, for all crimes are equal in the eyes of the Imperium. You were a prisoner, shipped off to a penal colony to spend the rest of your days. Forcefully or voluntarily, you were part of a shipment that was to be sent to serve in the frontlines as ‘auxiliary’ forces for the Imperial Guard. Should you survive, you may live long enough to see a pardon or even acknowledgment...but so few, so very few, ever earn it in any way beyond death. An explosive collar around your neck and the weight of chains on your limbs, you go forth to die in the name of your Emperor.
Bonus: Honor Among Thieves - Regardless of what earned your imprisonment, you’ve survived long enough in captivity that you know how to talk to and live among the wretched scum of the Imperium. Those with criminal ties or mindsets consider you a kindred spirit, and go out of their way to give you work or opportunities...and more than that, you know how to tell them what they want to hear. You know the subtle little ways to prod at the neuroses or impulses of the roguish and the insane, able to more easily convince them to your point of view or even make firm allies out of them so long as your interests don’t contradict. Not bad for a convict, right?

Forge World - You grew up among the endless factorums of the Ordo Mechanicus, churning out an endless supply of weapons and equipment for the Imperium’s eternal war machine. The venerated technology of a time of prosperity, perfected designs of old made to roll into battle and arm the hands of not only the Imperial Guard but the many Ordos within the Imperium...that is their purpose. You were specifically born and bred to work within these mighty worlds, and as such, you are no stranger to the ancient and venerated machines that make the backbone of these two empires. It is not unusual for the Ordo Mechanicus to raise such individuals to the Skitarii or welcome them to the cult proper...or in your case, Imperial Guard regiments that serve alongside the more ‘common’ troops it knows.
Bonus: Blessings of the Omnissiah - The machine spirit calls to you, and you hear it. By necessity, the techpriests require the aid of some of the more common citizenry of Forge Worlds in order to maintain it...though that’s not a fact you should remind them of or advertise to those concerned with heresy. You know how to maintain and repair any of the common equipment or battle vehicles of the Imperium, and it doesn’t take you long to learn how to do the same for any other STC-built machines. Post-jump, this knack and talent extends to any mass-produced item or machine in existence - and it won’t take long for you to figure out the materials and process used to do so.

Abhuman World - Contrary to the Imperium’s edict of ‘kill the mutant’, there are some particular...offshoots of humanity considered common and useful enough to tolerate, even to serve among the Ordos or the Imperial Guard. From the short and agile Ratlings to the simple-minded but strong Ogryn, these races have been deemed ‘sanctioned humans’ by the Imperium...and while this may only extend to teeth-grit tolerance and limited breeding rights, they are often a welcome sight where they are useful.
Bonus: Abhuman Physiology - As mentioned before, you are part of a ‘unique’ strain of humanity that changed due to years of mutation and isolated evolution from the rest of your kin. This usually results in some physical advantage in exchange for a disadvantage in form or mind. Ogryns are unusually stupid and claustrophobic but are incredibly strong and durable, Ratlings are agile and naturally excellent at stealth but are short and weak compared to common humans. Choose one of the abhuman races acknowledged and accepted by the Imperium, and you receive the physical benefits and form of that race, which becomes an altform post-jump as normal. This can include near-extinct races like the Squats or Beastmen, though in those cases your Regiment may not share your homeworld - there has to be enough in existence to justify a Guard regiment, after all.

Shrine World - Life began with the light of cathedrals and with statues of the Emperor and the many Saints of the Imperium looming over you. The first thing you learned when you could speak were prayers to the God-Emperor of Mankind. Whether this upbringing made you pious and idealistic, or jaded and resentful, it does not matter - faith has defined your life from the cradle to adulthood. Fortunate for you, such learned and religious worlds are often called upon to serve in the Guard, and now you truly serve in the Emperor’s own name.
Bonus: The Preacher’s Words - From the altar to your ears, you have memorized the way priests and fanatics alike have moved the hearts of others with only words. You have a natural charisma and fervor to your beliefs, able to quickly sway the like-minded to follow your words, and can turn a fearful and superstitious populace into a loyal flock...or more focused soldiers. With time, they may develop a fanatical fire within themselves, willing to die in the name of the Emperor or whatever cause you have molded them to...though the strong-willed and the particularly heretical may drown out your holy words with their own brand of ignorance. In debate on theological and philosophical matters, you also excel at tearing down the arguments of your opponents, exposing weaknesses in their own dogmas and making your own appear more ‘correct’.

Void Born - Entire generations of soldiers and civilians die aboard the mighty vessels of the Imperial Navy, built like cities or even countries onto themselves with the amount of manpower needed to maintain them. It’s not unusual for families to spend their entire lives on such a vessel with only the claustrophobic space of these great ships as company, with the howling void of space just beyond the layers of metal and steel. Somewhat pale and usually thin, the Void Born are a valuable part of the Navy due to their natural aptitude to zero gravity environments and awareness of what is needed to live on a space-faring vessel. Still, it’s not unusual for such people to be called to serve in the Guard...whether as volunteers or for more unfortunate reasons due to Warp exposure…
Bonus: A Dent In The Machine - As said, the Void Born are naturally attuned to travel within the empty vacuum of space. They suffer no motion sickness or discomfort from vehicular travel, whether by sea, air, or zero gravity environments within space. Having been used to the constant noise and eerie silences of the Imperium’s ships has also given you an uncanny knack for spotting small but significant details that could spell disaster...an almost inaudible noise tells you that the engine is being tampered with, a distant twig splitting tells you an ambush is in wait nearby, and so forth. This sharpened sense of hearing and intuition for the cause of said noise is able to overcome even the load roar of artillery or the battle cries of your comrades, and so long as you aren’t completely deaf, your hearing can quickly detect incoming danger or disaster and your instincts give you an idea of the cause. With some more time, you can even start picking up such things with sight or even smell and touch...


Regiment:



Specialties:

Equipment:

Companions:

Drawbacks: