The Menders Conformation (Duardin)

[Melcavuk]

"We tended to you when no God heeded your call nor sought your bended knee, we lifted your wounded high above the clouds that they might look upon heaven eternally, It was we who waged war on death long before any of you had looked upon his face. We elevated you then, and we do so now." 
Mender Envoy

 

Since I currently lack the funds to build or convert I spend my downtime musing on factional concepts for the Age of Sigmar, some good some... probably best not to dwell on  Anyway for the last few days the latest concept rattling around in my head is the Menders Conformation, a strange and sinister looking faction that cares for life above all else (though what form that life takes is of little consequence). The Menders have been around since time long forgotten, before gods set to seizing up souls like jealous children seizing away their toys, before the tide of chaos began to swarm across the realms, in times of dire need whilst never sought or called for the Menders rise up from the Depths of Ghyran with their unsettling machinery, setting to task over the fallen soldiers of the field. Those who could be repaired on the field suffer the attentions of the Mender attendants (also known as stitchers), their wounds sewn up crudely, broken or wounded limbs cleaved from flesh, damaged organs ripped from flesh and replaced by unknowable concoctions before being sealed over by crude leather stitching. The fatally wounded were instead gathered up by the mechanical harvesters, dropped into glass sphereical biospheres amidsts a bubbling concoction to preserve them before disappearing once more to the depths of Ghyran, those who have been taken are never seen from again.

 

"By the decree of the High Marshall the conclave of the Menders are hence for barred from the boundries of Hammerhal under the crimes of interference with the divine plan of Sigmar, interference with the burial rituals of the Cult of Azyr, Kidnapping, Necromancy and refusing the summons of the Azyrian High Courts."
Hammerhal Herald

 

Who are they:
Menders are Duardin looking creatures armoured in pressurised void suits that shield any trade of their true forms from view, many believe them to be Duardin men and women who escaped to the Depths of Ghyran and found new purpose in the Realm of Life Abundant. The Menders are philisophically opposed to Death in all forms, they have been known to mutilate those injured on the field of battle beyond recognition if it means depriving nagash of a single soul or body to raise. Unusually for those native to Ghyran they have escaped Alarielles opposition to technology by residing beyond her gaze, rising up upon bizarre arachnic looking metal constructs to harvest upon the field of battle and employ their perculiar talents.

Why do they fight:
Menders are seemingly harvesting to a plan, the swathes of wounded they take back to the peaks has raised dramatically in the modern age, whats more they have begun to reap even healthy organs from the wounded on the field of battle so long as doing so doesnt damage the host beyond repair. This all lends credence to the belief that they are picking to a very specific order, building beyond the sight of even gods in the depths Ghyran, if true what horrors could await are as of yet unknown,

How do they fight:
Menders employ crude hordes of "Repaired" soliders to reap upon the field of battle as Stitchers alongside crude mechanical constructs, whilst many of the outriders move beyond the bulk of the host they are slow encroaching force that reaps from their enemies to restore their numbers. Their attendants seek out the wounded in order to bolster their own abilities.

 

When allies fled left Chaos to roam,
and evil pillages farm and home.
When cries of aid met deafened ears,
our people suffered dire years.

'Twas then when our need was most,
when hounded by the endless host.
Our forebears sought to hide below,
Through paths they could not truly know.

'Neath darkest hold and hidden forts,
through halls of stone that came to naught.
Past seams of golds and jewels of wonder,
lies the darkness of the Under.

Vast halls echo empty across the Realms, a mere relic of times long since passed where stories are still told of vast carriages of gold that left the mountains to flourishing civilisations of Man and Aelf. The oldest still remember the days of the Duardin might across every realm, vast bastions of strength and wealth that formed the bulwark against the tides of Chaos in the early days of invasion that Sigmar might pull back all those unable to defend themselves behind the walls of Azyr. These mighty halls became islands of civilisation in a sea of chaos and death, and for a time their great stone walls repelled all who sought to pillage those that lay within. Yet as months dragged on to years the duardin within began to realise their part in Sigmars great plan, with his gates now sealed they had simply been discarded, a neccessary loss in a war that was only in its opening days. 

In Ghyran the besieged Duardin of the Mender Conformation turned to their ancient crafts to tunnel beyond their isolation, with chaos on all sides they began to dig deep through the realmplate. So dire was their need that vast seams of gold and jewels were ignored, every man woman and child wielding pick for every moment of their waking life. As supplies began to run low, the hope of ever emerging from the great work began to dwindle, yet seemingly failure encroached on their task the mountains rewarded the perseverance. The Menders emerged in the darkness beneath the realmplate, a vast and empty madness that even the stars dare not stare upon shielded from the light of Hysh by the vast realm of Ghyran above this desolate landscape stretched seemingly endlessly onwards as little reward for a lifetime of labour.

The only life that flourished in this deep and unrelenting emptiness came at the Hub, a massive mountainous spire jutting down from the Realmplate above, here seems of the Realm stones that invigorated the lands above allowed some small trace of green and life by way of a nourishing fungus to perservere even in the Under. The Menders set to task building their new home here hidden from the realm above, the Hub becoming a network of vast new holds as they sought to cultivate the fungus to feed what remained of their populace and for a time they were sated.

In time the Menders sought to revisit the vast network that has lead them from their holds above, finding that years spent staring into the vast emptiness of the Under has robbed them of any joys the gold and jewels once bestowed. Yet deep within their heart the Duardin greed still lingered, hungering for something they could as of yet not truly understand, they turned their hands to task and made the seams of metal into a vast array of tunnelling machinery to widen the chasms through which they had made their escape. It was only as they emerged, the searing sun now offensive to their very eyes and bleached skin, turning their gaze to the changed world around them that they truly understood that which they craved. In a world where wealth was in an abundance it had lost all value, the only thing of true value was life itself, it was a currency without comparison and valued beyond even the rarest of jewels.

The Menders looked upon the realms abandoned by Sigmar, upon those who had been felled on the field of battle and tried to save the wounded that were not beyond their talents. Those who could not be saved on the field of battle were instead taken to the vast depths below that they might be worked on hidden from the eyes of the Hosts of Chaos.

 

Key Characteristics:
Pressure Suits
Sunshield visors
Medical Gear
Axes for amputation instead of Mining Picks
Mechanical Arachnid mining constructs