The Barov family, a vast and mysterious clan of Arathor descent, possessed fiefdoms stretching from Brill in the north to Southshore in the west, from Tarren Mill in the south to Caer Darrow in the east. Reborn into such a family, Carlos was happy and content. In spring, he enjoyed the service of three thousand maids at Lakehold in Caer Darrow. Summers were spent escaping the heat in the apple orchards of Tarren Mill. Autumn brought vibrant red leaves to the maple forests of Brill. Winters were spent feasting on cod in Southshore. Whatever his needs, a simple ring of the Barov butler's bell would fulfill them. Such a life would make any trip to Azeroth worthwhile! If I hadn't played WoW, I almost would have believed it.

Being an Astartes isn't all about fighting and killing. To run a successful Chapter, one must also be worldly-wise and empathetic. Prejudices are as heavy as a mountain. Yet, the outside world's stereotypes about the Warhammer universe are always right. How can we build the Imperium of Mankind with these insects? We must build the Imperium of Mankind with these insects! From recruit to Chapter Master, a Space Marine will never admit to partial brain necrosis. Yet, from the Emperor to the Four Gods, the mighty powers of the Warp always want to make life easy for everyone. The holy God-Emperor once declared that he was not a god. Kaz Samar expressed complete indifference to the human gods' insistence on saying he wasn't a god. He kept saying, "Yes, yes, yes, I bow when I'm due, I kneel when I'm due." After centuries of hard work, Kaz finally became Chapter Master and was at his desk, writing his memoirs, attempting to record his eventful life for the Imperium. Then, a brash recruit barged into his room. "Chapter Master, promethium is half price in the next sector!" Alas, even the Imperium's demigods can't escape the chores of food, clothing, and daily necessities. He put down his personal memoirs and pulled out his chapter account book. Is there much in the bank? Not much.