W A R W I T C H
THE THRONE OF A THOUSAND WARS
OOC INFORMATION
INTENT: A Mobile Mandalorian Citystate Capable of Lightspeed Travel
IMAGE SOURCE: Warhammer 40K [X]
CANON LINK: City-Ship [X] Nespis VIII [X]
PERMISSIONS: N/A
PRIMARY SOURCE: N/A
PRODUCTION INFORMATION
MANUFACTURER: House Prime [X] | Mandalorian Empire [X]
AFFILIATION: Mandalorian Empire [X]
MARKET STATUS: Closed Market
MODEL: Ark of Ha'Rangir
PRODUCTION: Semi Unique (3)
MATERIAL: Mandalorian Steel & Beskar
TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS
CLASSIFICATION: Mobile City (Civilian Station)
OPTIMAL CREW: 524,541
PASSENGERS: 674,673
MINIMUM CREW: 340,952
LENGTH: 150 Kilometers
WIDTH: 150 Kilometers
HEIGHT: 150 Kilometers
ARMAMENT: None
DEFENSES: Extreme
HANGER SPACE: Extreme
MANEUVERABILITY RATING: None
SPEED RATING: Very Low
HYPERDRIVE: Yes
STANDARDIZED SYSTEMS
- General Systems
- Internal Security
- Sensor and Communication Systems
- Life Support Systems
- Shielding and Hull Plating Systems
- Engineering & Hyperdrive Systems
SPECIALIZED SYSTEMS
STARPOWERED SOLARFORT: Drifting in the shadow of suns, the Monastery feasts. Massive solar arrays drink stellar fire, storing it within crystalline reactors to feed both weapon and wall. The Monastery becomes a second star when it chooses, glowing with solar radiance until it vanishes once more into hyperspace.
Harvesting the Light:
- The Solarfort's pylons are layered with hexagonal mirror-plates and rune-etched absorbers, each acting as a conduit to pull in solar radiation across the spectrum. Unlike common collectors, these devices do not merely convert light to energy—they syphon stellar essence itself, stripping plasma currents and magnetic force lines from the star's corona.
- The pylons act as resonators, pulling more than photons, they harvest the "heartbeat" of the star, the pulsing rhythm of its nuclear core. To do this without tearing themselves apart, each plate is threaded with beskar veins inscribed with runes of binding, dampening the volatile feedback.
- The harvested essence is not stored as raw plasma, which would annihilate any vault. Instead, it is channeled into crystalline relics known as Azurite Cinders. These are unstable shards, half-machine and half-mystical artifact, scavenged from Mandalorian ruins and reforged with Nightsister bindings.
- Each Azurite Cinder glows with captive stellar fire, pulsing as though alive. They are placed in a suspended lattice within the Citadel's core, orbiting the Iron Heart like a crown of minature captive suns.
- The stability of these relics requires constant attention: engineers tend the machines, witches whisper wards, and priests recite the prayers of calibration. Without ritual and science both, the Cinders would fracture and release enough energy to vaporize the Citadel from within.
- Once enough stellar essence is devoured, the Citadel can ignite its Iron Heart to radiate. The Cinders funnel their energy into the heart-core, which then burns with controlled brilliance. This turns the entire monastery into a false star, its armored shell glowing like a sun wrapped in iron.
- This radiance has several effects: it floods the internal habitats with warmth and light, sustains hydroponic sanctuaries and forges, and allows the Citadel to serve as a beacon across parsecs, a literal star of faith, blazing where the Inheritors will it.
- In war, this radiance can also act as a weapon: sudden over-release of stored solar essence can blind sensors, fry electronics, or unleash a localized star-flare across void. It is both a blessing and a curse, for to overdraw risks destabilizing the entire system.
IRON HEART: At the center of the Monastery lies its greatest secret: a reactor core known as the Iron Heart. Forged of beskar and witchcraft, it fuels hyperspace travel, shields, and weapons in equal measure. The Iron Heart is more than a machine — it is a shrine. Warpriests sing to it, engineers anoint it with oil and ichor, and warriors kneel before it before each battle. It is the soul of the Monastery, the pulsing core of nomadic faith and unbreakable war.
Heart of Iron:
- Imagine a singularity bound in beskar chains, surrounded by relic machinery that sings in resonance with the void. At its center lies a sphere of compressed exotic matter, said to be the fragment of a star's corpse, harvested in the forgotten wars of Mandalore's ancients.
- This sphere pulses with gravitational force so immense it would collapse without its binding. The "iron" in its name comes from the cage of runed beskar struts that contain it, like ribs around a heart.
- Around this sphere, the Azurite Cinders orbit, feeding energy into and out of the system like blood through veins.
- The Iron Heart acts as a converter and regulator. The Solarforts devour solar essence, but without the Heart, the energy would remain chaotic, untamed plasma. The Heart compresses, channels, and redistributes it, pumping it into conduits that run like arteries throughout the Citadel.
- This energy feeds everything: the monastery's shielding, the forge-furnaces that churn out weapons, the cloisters lit with false daylight, even the tractor-mass engines of its hull. The Heart is literally the sun within the shell.
- To the Inheritors, the Iron Heart is no mere reactor: it is a divine organ. They believe it beats in rhythm with Ha'rangir's will, a living symbol that the Destroyer God resides within their ark.
- Priests speak of the Heart as a soul: "Strike the Heart, and the Citadel dies; praise the Heart, and the God of War breathes." Its chambers are a temple, its thrum a hymn. Ritual maintenance is treated as liturgy; every engineer is half-priest, every priest half-engineer.
- When fueled to its zenith, the Iron Heart allows the Citadel to radiate its own solar brilliance, not only sustaining itself but empowering nearby fleet-vessels via energy transmission beams.
- It can create controlled solar eruptions, discharging arcs of stellar plasma through venting ports, effectively turning the monastery into a blazing star.
- Yet it is also fragile in its own way: if the bindings falter or the rituals lapse, the Heart could collapse, unleashing its singularity core in a burst capable of annihilating entire fleets.
HA'RANGIR'S HOOK: The Iron Citadel is girded with the monumental system known as Ha'rangir's Hook, a lattice of colossal tractor-beam arrays woven into the monastery's superstructure. Unlike conventional Mandalorian war-engines designed for conquest, the Hook exists as a shepherd's crook for the faithful, guiding and protecting the flocks of ships that follow the Citadel across the void. Its purpose is not to tear apart cities or drag planets into ruin, but to maintain order, security, and control of space around the monastery-city.
- Defensive Function: establishes a traffic veil around the Citadel, a corridor of directed gravity wells and beam currents that regulate approach and departure. Friendly ships are drawn safely into prescribed lanes, sheltered from ambushes and collisions, while unauthorized or hostile vessels are slowed, ensnared, or even repelled before they can close. This protective perimeter acts as a living shield-wall in space, ensuring that the Citadel remains untouchable at the heart of its swarming fleets.
- Civil Function: Beyond war, Ha'rangir's Hook is vital to sustaining the Citadel's way of life. It enables the constant flow of pilgrims, supplies, and warhosts from the monastery to its fleets. Castle-ships, smaller frigates, and pilgrim caravans can dock and depart without chaos, all guided by the unseen hand of the Hook. To the faithful, this system is more than machinery, it is the god's crook, ensuring that his chosen do not scatter into the void but remain bound in unity and order.
- Emergency Function: When the Citadel itself is threatened, the Hook becomes a bastion of defense. The system can project a repulsing field, forming a zone of warped gravitation that physically pushes attackers away, scattering fleets that dare breach its orbit. This effect, likened to the wrathful sweep of Ha'rangir's hand, prevents boarding actions and keeps siege lines fractured, ensuring the monastery's sanctity remains unbroken.
MONOLITHIC STARARK: The Monastery is not merely a war engine but a city-state in the void. Within its walls dwell countless clans, pilgrims, converts, conscripts, foundlings and aspirants, each sworn to the Resol'nare of the Mandalorian. Its halls are vast as any capital world, its forges hum like heartbeats, its reliquaries glow with relics of myth. It is Mandalore unbound, a planet condensed into a star-borne ark, sustaining hundreds of thousands in safety, culture, and war.
ACADEMY OF WAR: The War College is also the greatest military academy Mandalorians have ever birthed. Here aspirants are gathered, indoctrinated, and tested in environments that replicate swamps, deserts, cities, or alien ruins. Barracks stretch for kilometers, lecture halls are carved like amphitheaters, and dueling pits glow with bloodlit torches. War is not taught here as art, but as religion. No aspirant leaves unchanged: they emerge either as warriors or as sacrifices to Ha'rangir's flame.
RELIGIOUS RITE: House Prime decrees that those who dwell within the Monastery attend sermons, prayers, and ritual combat. Its great cathedral halls echo with chants of Kad Ha'rangir, its stained transparisteel windows casting galaxies of firelight upon its congregation. For those Mandalorians who have strayed from the old creed, the Monastery is an irresistible gravity well, drawing them back into the fold. Pilgrims kneel, warriors chant, and the iron hymn of eternal destruction resounds through the stars.
SELF-SUSTAINING ECOSYSTEM: The Iron Citadel is no mere warship nor wandering ark—it is a closed, eternal machine, a city-temple whose every level is alive with the rhythm of industry, cultivation, and worship. Within its armored shell lies a molecular furnace network—colossal reactors that deconstruct matter at the atomic scale, transmuting it into raw feedstock for factories, sustenance for its people, and fuel for its fleets. These furnaces, endlessly cycling, mean the Citadel is not dependent on the plunder of a single world to survive. Instead, it carries its own perpetual crucible of creation wherever it drifts.
- Industrial Function: At the heart of this system are self-sustaining factories tied directly into the molecular furnaces. They recycle waste, refine harvested ore, and birth weapons, armor, food, and ships in an unbroken chain of output. A scrap of steel becomes a bullet. A shattered hull becomes a new blade. Even the dead are fed into the machine, their matter reforged into the Citadel itself, their essence honored in scripture as they are folded back into the warhost. Nothing is wasted; all serves the Machine and the God who drives it.
- Harvesters of Faith: Yet the Citadel hungers for more than it can produce alone. For this, it deploys Harvester Vessels, mobile foundries that descend upon conquered worlds like carrion birds. They scour fields, strip mines, oceans, and cities, taking not everything, but enough to keep the fires of the Ark alive. What they claim is ferried back through the void, poured into the Citadel's embrace where it is broken down, purified, and reshaped. To conquered peoples, the Harvester Vessels are omens of inevitability: proof that nothing they build or grow will remain their own once the shadow of the Ark looms above.
DESIGN FLAWS
MOBILITY LIMITATIONS: Despite its vast engines, the Citadel is not a vessel of speed. It is a lumbering ark, deliberate and inexorable, but incapable of sharp maneuvers or rapid retreats. Smaller fleets may outpace it with ease, harassing its escorts or cutting supply lines while the great monastery plods ever forward.
RELIANCE ON ESCORTS: Though bristling with defenses, the Iron Citadel is not a warship. Its design prioritizes religious symbolism and habitation over total martial efficiency. It relies on surrounding fleets, castle-ships, frigates, and swarms of inheritor craft to shield its bulk. Without this phalanx, concentrated enemy fleets could carve at its flanks until even beskar yields.
LOGISTICAL STRAIN: The monastery-city houses not only warriors, but priests, artisans, and entire kin-bands. This makes it a cultural heart, but also a logistical liability. Feeding, arming, and sustaining tens of thousands of lives demands constant flows of supplies. Should these lines falter, hunger and scarcity may spread quicker than faith.
RELICS & SYSTEMS: Many of its great mechanisms, its star-forges, scripture-engines, and the sacred beacon that guides fleets, are restored from fragments of ancient Mandalorian technology. These systems are powerful but temperamental, requiring ritualistic maintenance. If struck or sabotaged, they cannot be easily replaced; the loss of a single relic-machine could cripple entire sectors of The Citadel.
PSYCOLOGICAL HURBIS: The Citadel is more than steel. It is symbol and sermon. To its people, it is inviolable, eternal, god-wrought. This creates a dangerous hubris in its defenders, who may underestimate enemies daring enough to strike directly at their ark. A determined adversary might exploit this faith, using it to lure the monastery into traps under the guise of holy challenge.
DIPLOMATIC SUSPICION: Its very presence is an act of defiance. Few galactic powers will suffer The Citadel to linger without suspicion, and many see it only as a threat. This ensures that wherever it travels, it gathers both reverence and hostility in equal measure, often leaving it politically isolated and unable to anchor safely in controlled segments of space.
PLANETFALL: When the monastery descends to orbit close enough to exert its shadow over a world, it risks entanglement with planetary defenses. Its colossal frame cannot evade orbital cannons, ion batteries, or hidden countermeasures. Once within the grasp of gravity wells, its movement is slower still, exposing it to strikes that would be meaningless in open void.
PREACHING TO THE CHOIR
In the long shadow of Mandalore's fall, when the homeworld burned and its children scattered to the void, the Inheritors of Ha'rangir turned their eyes not to the ashes but to the stars. For too long had their people built fortresses upon sand, only to see them swept away by the storms of war. Too many times had the great clans carved empires, only for them to be broken, burned, and left for carrion. It was not weakness that doomed them, but forgetfulness. They had strayed from the Destroyer's path.
It was in this hour of exile that the lost blueprints were found. Scriptures of steel, ancient schematics buried deep in vaults left untouched since the age of the Taung. They spoke not of palaces nor citadels chained to a single world, but of a wandering stronghold, a temple forged not for soil but for the eternal sea of stars. The Inheritors of Ha'rangir took these relics, whispering prayers over every line, every detail, and set to work upon hidden forge-worlds far from the gaze of Imperial spies or Republic eyes.
What they built was not a warship, though it carries the skin of iron. It was not a dreadnaught, though its shadow eclipses lesser fleets. It is the Iron Monastery. A city-state upon the void, a temple of war that drifts unbound, bearing the faith of the Destroyer wherever its looming ark passes. Its spires rise like blades, its walls are etched with scripture, and its engines burn brighter than suns to remind the galaxy that Mandalorians are eternal. Within its chambers the children of Kad Ha'rangir kneel, chant, and sharpen their blades in equal measure, each hymn echoing as loudly as each clash of beskar.
The Monastery is not a fortress to defend. It is not a bastion to hold. It is an ark, a wandering covenant for a people who have known too many graves, too many exoduses, too many times forced to watch their homes reduced to ash. Here, there is no home but the warpath, no soil but the battlefield, no harvest but conquest. The Monastery endures because it carries within it both the memory of what was lost and the promise of what shall come: a Mandalorian culture unified not by planet or crown, but by faith.
When it looms over a world, it is not simply a fleet in orbit, it is judgment manifest. It preaches without words, its very presence a sermon: bend, or be broken; kneel, or be scattered as dust. It is the heart of the Inheritors' creed, the beating furnace of their culture outside Mandalore, a wandering city where the fires of mythology are stoked and the faithful refined.
Not a ship, not a weapon, but a grand temple of war. The Iron Citadel is the hymn of the Destroyer made flesh in steel, and its shadow carries both salvation for the faithful and ruin for the unworthy.
Out Of Character Info
Intent:
A Highly Defended Mandalorian City-State capable of lightspeed travel
Image Source(s):
https://ageofsigmar.lexicanum.com/wiki/Ahramentia
Canon Link:
N/A
Technical Information
Affiliation:
Mandalorian Empire
Model:
Ark of Ha'rangir
Starship Class:
Other
Starship Role:
Other
Modular:
Yes
Material:
Mandalorian Steel & Beskar
Armaments:
N/A
Defense Rating:
Extreme
Speed Rating:
None
Maneuverability Rating::
None
Energy Resist:
Extreme
Kinetic Resist:
Extreme
Radiation Resist:
Extreme
Minimum Crew:
340952
Optimal Crew:
524541
Passenger Capacity:
674673
Cargo Capacity:
Extreme
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