"As a vegetarian battler of chaos and alien alike, I only recommend one thing to the young'ns of the industry: don't be afraid of the limits of your own abilities, be afraid of the limits in the brain capacities of the unwashed buffoons you may have accidentally hired"
―Joerdon before a slightly baffled journalist who just happened to catch him at a fresh food convention.
Joerdon Maverike (born Ellison Cygnus Heidrich) is a mercenary for hire and shrewd businessman that was once (and by all means still technically is) the prosperous and well-connected Planetary Governor Ellison Cygnus Heidrich of the Hive World Miranda Secula.
Since going rogue, Joerdon has become a self-proclaimed inquisitor (serving any one of the three ordos depending on the circumstances, though due to paperwork issues now identifies as primarily Ordo Hereticus), political theorist, artist, musician, food and drink connoisseur, scholar, philanthropist and humanist. The man has spent much of his recent years travelling the galaxy with various numbers of companions, clients and mercenaries, seeking conflict, fame, and fortune, and most importantly, doing the goddamn Emperor's work every step of the way. In reality, his ventures are at best whimsical aid to the much more effective forces of the Imperium he works alongside (or at least trails behind), and at worst, they are distractions, burdens, and/or even root causes of the galactic conflicts and turmoil he merely seeks to solve.
Joerdon Maverike was born a healthy child to two prominent figureheads of the Miranda Seculan ruling class, Ellison Cygnus Heidrich (sr.) and Emilia Barrus Malcovich.
Growing up quickly, Ellison was brought up to become a respectable and well-educated ruler, attending fine boarding schools after seven years of home schooling by specialised house maids. Expanding his mind with ideas of inherent superiority and self-entitlement to rule, Ellison would have assumed the position of the complacent, arrogant sideline heir had it not been for a dogged and ruthless perception of his own destiny to rule, and staggering amounts of luck.
During his early years, Ellison was frequently occupied in his own endeavours, spending months at a time sitting in his palace alone in stupendous luxury, albeit in the company of up to seven dozen servants, with the political position and wealth to justify it. Amongst the things that warped and malformed in these years, his perception of self-care, better judgement of social customs and taboos, any whisper of the idea of too much excess, and self-assessment of what qualified as intellect, had completely vanished.
When he was actually required to make contact with people in order to advance his political position, his connections from day one proved to be a swift sword, in addition to whatever bountiful television-ready charm and looks he possessed. Approaching adulthood, Ellison focused much of his attention on diplomacy, trade and enhancing the cultural life of the Empire that was his house. He ordered theatres built and promoted athletic games.
Of course, Ellison was not expected to become the planetary ruler due to the existence of his maternal uncle, Ortus Barrus Heinrich, who had begun his reign at the age of 25 with enough time to produce his own heir. Ellison's mother lost favour with Ortus and was exiled after her husband's unfortunate death due to excessive drinking and sexually transmitted infections. In the flick of a match, Ortus seized Ellison's inheritance and sent him to be brought up by his vastly less wealthy aunt, Chorlla Taixi. Ortus, his wife Jasintha and their children were murdered by the turn of the new year. The murder was suspected years later, but never actually proven, to be at the hands of the pre-teen Ellison. He has admitted to being directly responsible several times.
Ellison was proclaimed an adult at the age of 14. He was appointed proconsul, entered and first addressed the Senate, made joint public appearances with his other more-connected and more politically astute family lineage, banking on his family position to cushion their own statuses, and was also featured in coinage. In a year, he married his sister-in-law Alicia Barrus Malcovich, further strengthening his rule across the major families of his house. By the age of eighteen, Ellison has briefly served as Consul of the Hive World, before assuming role of Supreme Planetary Governor.
During his reign, the redoubtable general Corruptis under his command conducted a successful war and negotiated peace with the neighbouring Vorrack Empire, in addition to countless tides of Orks. His general Fallatus crushed a revolt in the eastern hemisphere of Miranda Seculan, concreting his rule for life. In time, Ellison's rule and the ruling class that fortifies his position of power become symbols of almost religious status, with Ellison becoming a national hero, being honoured by six distinct seasonal holidays in the Miranda Seculan year corresponding to his supposed six great pillars of achievement: piety, pity, plenty, patience, perseverance and peace.
He then went rouge and became a traveling businessman and mercenary, now serving or having served in the retinue of many rogue traders, meddlers and middlemen as a what he likes to call a prominent Jack of many trades; a psyker aid, a linguist, economist, ruthless pursuer of sales and a master of ruse, all in addition to his natural skills of murder and evasion which have saved a few lives, as well as his own.
Although small time for many, many years, in his recent decades, Joerdon has somehow managed in carving out what many may call a personal empire of connections, influence, wealth and prestige, in perhaps equal proportions to times his name(s) have appeared on Arbites records, court records, assassination hit lists, vast debt lists, speed-dial lists for informed and capable lawyers, casino banned-for-life lists, and medical records.
Joerdon likes to see himself as a greatly capable and intelligent autodidact with a streak of cunning, a silver of charm, and touch of heart. He's so good at putting on this façade that the majority of people that make contact with him see him as exactly what he thinks he is.
Whilst Joredon may possess charm and cunning, and something in the way of a glimmer of political astuteness, for the most part it seems his astronomically plentiful personal fortune is the primary reason why he's still breathing, having saved his life more times than he's ever cared to notice. Only those who have served under his command for longer than a week have ever reached an astute awareness of just how many times he's evaded a frightening number of close calls that have on many occasions nearly cost his life and/or reputation.
For the human traits he no longer possesses, Joerdon has since come to realise their necessity for appearing like a decent guy, and thus assumes generic personas when it is necessary. Problematically, he still gets things wrong, occasionally in rapid succession, although likes to see himself as having made slow improvements throughout the years.
He also tries really hard to pretend to know a great deal of things about the Imperium, the galaxy, and the nature of chaos and xenos, all despite painfully demonstrating innumerable times that he pretty much knows fuck all.
"Enough with the history lessons. Where is my daily portion of belief denial?"
―Joerdon, replying to a feisty letter criticising one of his political anthologies
Joerdon is known to be the founding father of the political ideology of Dialectical Post-postmodernist Humanist Individualism, a philosophy that's wonderfully right wing, individualist, plutocratic neoliberal on one end, and on the other laced with plenty of truly sincere discussions on the advocation of socialism, equality, frugality, traditional moral values and less materialism. Generally, most serious scholars have concluded that Joerdon is either conducting an incredibly clever satire of modern politics and philosophy, or is just incredibly dense, and does not realise he only writes what sounds correct to him at the time.
Regardless of intent, without a doubt Joerdon appears to take his politics very seriously, often to the point where he is condescending and patronising to the writings of others. Yes sometimes he acts in a completely opposite matter, praising or subtly supporting other political works and comments regardless of left-right orientation or similarity to his own ideals, whatever that means.
He as amassed a wide following of avid supporters and readers, however nobody can really tell if any one of them is truly a supporter of his works, or only do it ironically.
"...Chaos does not exist in reality, but is merely a thought boiled up from the emotions and temptations of the unwashed masses. Only by bidding the grace of the intelligentsia will the mysterious, maddening methods of chaos ever cease to trouble the galaxy, by way of force, or by way of reeducation."
―Joerdon Maverike, Political Writings on Chaos, Vol III: The Role of Individual Specialising Men in Combatting Chaos, Chapter 9, page 192
Something about this guy makes you want to simultaneously throw up and take him out to dinner, talk to him, and treat him real nice. A renowned womaniser, playboy and self-described and qualified sexologist, Atrus knows a million ways to make a woman cry, in any context one desires. Joerdon usually keeps him in his retinue for good company, however his skills have proven invaluable for dozens upon dozens of reasons that Joerdon is more than proud to chatter about, although he sometimes confuses him with Jackson Valentine-Emerson.
Assumedly he's still alive. Assumedly this is his real name. Nobody really knows much about Bronson, other than the fact that that's the name he answers to, and that he's done more mint quality jobs than your local manafactorum. Even use of gendered language regarding him rests on assumptions.
Jackson Valentine-Emerson, the man with the pretty eyes and pretty name. At first glance he looks like he could do anything, would save your life and ten others, and is just an honest boy with a big, youthful heart of full love and sincerity. But he often proves to be fairly mediocre and actually rather awkward to be around. He often forgets to reply to conversation due to being so lost in his own thoughts, and has a frankly annoying habit of sitting in a high location watching the sunset with a chilly wind flowing towards him. Nobody actually knows why Joerdon keeps hiring the bugger, but he says it's good to keep the base clean. Many people actually seriously listen to this and treat it like a word of wisdom, yet most others still can tell wether or not Joerdon really intends it like this. He's scientifically been proven to be straight according to papers in Joerdon's possession.
The most dangerous and capable man who has frequented Joerdon's cool brigade, most people are so distracted by the other fruity and fascinating members of Joerdon's retinue that they forget to remember that he's a fantastic manipulator, a ruthless murderer, a masterful orchestrator of carnage and destruction, and a vicious leech that many people wish would just rot away. Most people of genuine intellect have pinned down his most definitely likely motives to that of finding a way to acquire most - if not all - of Joerdon's riches and trade empire, killing him, then assumedly using it as he pleases. For some reason however, after all these years, Johannes has largely been unable to do anything close to what he could achieve, and many claim that Joerdon truly is a mastermind, having managed to foil every one of his plans, holding him back in a vicious, eternal stalemate that Johannes could so easily escape if it weren't for his monolithic pride and non-acceptance of defeat.