Editing Avalonus (section)

==Calivere==
'''Hive Calivere''' is a far more imposing hive, at least in aspect, than its partners Gildwynn and Jaranoct. Towering above the Conurbation, its heartforges and clustered spires rise like steel mountains. It is a major center of vehicle production, producing nearly 3% of all civilian land and air transports used in the sector. Caliveran products are outclassed by Hive Gergenir's in terms of quality and sumptuousness, but the massive levels of production sustained by the hive mean that far more of its products are exported from the capital world. As a result, its products are the standard by which all others are judged throughout Victorum.

The upper reaches of Calivere are nearly untouched by hive smog thanks to advanced atmospheric shields and ancient weather manipulation systems maintained by the Mechanicus. Thanks to these relics, the upper hive is constructed as a series of tiered galleries, open to the brilliant blue sky and shining sun. Hanging gardens, built along the walls of the hive, are quite common, and lend it the appearance of a terraced garden sprouting from a pile of cinders. This privilege is not without its cost; not only does the import of exotic plants and animals from a billion worlds scattered throughout the galaxy give rise to period waves of plague and sickness through the hive,

The beauty of the upper tier stands in stark contrast to the levels of the middle hive, which is forever wreathed in a gray-green haze and where hab blocks are built without windows. Calivere’s thousands of manufactories belch out a continuous stream of polluted smog into the air, causing its outermost layers to be uninhabitable without extensive filtration and protection systems. Contributing to this poison is the presence of a great many crematoria, founded in the wake of the Thorian Reformation and serving nearly 40% of the Conurbation's funereal industry. Middle hivers trudge in near-subterranean conditions to their appointed work places, relying on trapdoors built in their tenement blocks that lead onto the massive transitways that worm through the entire Conurbation. 

The underhive of Calivere is divided into scattered regions. Each section of Calivere’s underhive faces unique challenges and factors despite the presence of shared gang-lines and commonality of practices. The life of an underhiver below the Sun’s Reach is very different from that of an underhiver living in The Lake, yet both will likely observe the same rituals and fear the same menaces, perhaps even paying tribute to the same gangs. The fact that the mutated wildlife found across these underhive regions are fairly equivalent point to some shared passage that Imperial authorities are both unaware and uncaring of.

The great arterial transitways that link Calivere to the rest of the Conurbation are viewed as sacred and holy, and desecrators who threaten them with graffiti or damage are hung from their ramparts by coils of steel wire. The maintenance of these transitways are a responsibility left solely to the Guild of Passages, who also maintain the bridges and roads of the upper hive and the Conurbation. It is not uncommon to see the spaces beneath the great arches that hold them up being used as improvised cathedrals by the wandering monks known as friars, their home-spun parables mingling with High Gothic prayers and shared stories of courage, honor and the values of the Saints. 

The primary nexus of the Conurbation’s transitways, Calivere is also host to the largest docks of Bethvyrnesse. Opening onto the black, icy waters of the Urodelan Glaciers, the '''Serjance Docks''' are an extensive array of oil-slick rustpiles servicing a tremendous subterranean sea that is all that allows access to the promethium reserves beneath the planet's polar ice cap. Unnoticed by the Adminstratum, they are also the beating heart of a network of black market traders, narco-labs, and unlicensed manufactories festering beneath the skin of decrepit refineries and empty storage depots. 

===Notable Locations===
*'''Serjance Docks:''' Beneath the veneer of productive industry, the Serjance Docks seethe with resentment, ambition, and cold calculation. While Administratum factors demand the achievement of quotas and select picked men to lead work-weary teams of stevedores, riggers, mechanics and other vital functions, the ranks of brute labor are filled with the criminal, the corrupt, and the enslaved. Labor gangs roam the docks for any lax hand, shanghaiing them to deathly work across the Glacial Sea extracting promethium and fighting shadowy battles amongst the oil-drenched warehouses and rusting tankers. The greatest of these slavelords is an ex-Administratum questor, Heironymous Extor, whose heavily-enhanced mind and knowledge of bureacratese have enabled the Black Hand to seize more labor contracts and barracks than any other gang in living memory.

*'''Morial Chantry:''' The Morial Chantry is the most deeply-respected and honored funeral shrine in the hive. The original structure, long-since hidden beneath the serpentine flues and crude human stonemongery of later additions, predated the foundation of the Hive proper by nearly 200 years. In the beginning of Calivere's history, the chantry was but one outpost in the long, final siege of the Falxian Gladocracy, and its master was a renowned Captain of the Salamanders. Their deeds entered sector legend, and their fortress became one of the planet's first shrines, with millions of soldiers and craftsmen making pilgrimage. In time, this developed into a cult community, one that left a permanent mark on Caliveran practice and faith. To this day, the Morial Chantry is the heart of a divergent cult of the Promethean Way, one linked through doctrine and ancient treaties with the [[Victorum Sector#Sons of the Dragon|Sons of the Dragon]].

*'''Mannusian Munitions Factorum Prime:''' Within the shadowed canyons of the Calivere's Forge District, several manufactories and guilds distinguish themselves by quality and design rather than prodigious production figures. 'Mannusian Munitions is the premier of these, crafting near-forgeworld quality arms and ammunition for discerning buyers. Long interchange between its overseers and ambassadors of the shadowed forgeworld of Nilumanen has contributed to Calivere's continuing independence from the forge-fanes of Hive Gergenir. It's most famous product is the summit gun, a medium-calibre stubgun of astonishingly small size and inerringly accurate rounds controlled by a camouflaged augmetic interface.

*'''Cathedral Mortis Imperium:''' The "High Hand of the Emperor," as he is known, rules from the smoke-drowned depths of the Mortis Imperium. Once a cathedral of the Saviour Emperor, this ruin was cast down during the ''Seventh Battle of Avalonus'' at the end of the Reign of Blood. But its literal collapse into the Underhive did not end its faith, and a shadow church of true heretics has clung to survival behind the masks of the hive's people. This subterranean fane works to undermine, literally and figuratively, the foundations of Calivere's faith by promoting their vengeance-twisted take on the Saviour Emperor's ancient teachings through Calivere's mystery theaters and subtle acts of murder.

*'''Fort Pronatus:''' A major Departmento Munitorum supply depot, Fort Pronatus is a transshipment point for aircraft and vehicles destined for service in one of the Emperor's armies. Here, such vehicles undergo their final qualification checks, ensuring they are up to frontline standard. Any which fail are reassigned to a lesser branch of the Imperium's defences; most often Planetary Defence Forces, but also the Schola Progenium, Munitorum security, and the private armies of Rogue Traders. A small but significant percentage of these cast-offs, and an even smaller percentage of perfectly good vehicles, find their way to less-credentialed buyers.

===Culture===
Life in Calivere is even more reliant on an inner-outer lifestyle than in other hives on the capital world. While honor and respect play their part, the deepest-held motivation of the average Caliveran is faith, and the appearance of faith. While in public striving to present a stoic, almost monk-like countenance and attitude towards the vicissitudes of the universe, behind vac-sealed doors the people of Calivere are as human in their vices and follies as any other. 

The average hivedweller spends their entire working day behind masks. It would be impossible to move about the hive otherwise, shrouded as it is in the toxic by-products of vast manufactories and funeral crematoria; yet even Calivere's most reclusive nobles go about masked and shrouded, lest the light of the sun and the alien pollens of a million worlds wreak havoc on their spire-weakened immune systems. The least underhive dreg, should they wish to live even one minute longer, breathes air filtered through the boiled scraps of finer rags and shades their eyes with the warped cast-off of some midhive factorum, donated by Imperial charities. So engrained is the habit, so necessary to daily life is the wearing of masks, that even outside their home hive Caliverans are easily identified by their all-encompassing masks.

The necessity of living in such a confined and stifling environment at all waking hours has forced the evolution of a complex culture of mask etiquette and artistry, one little appreciated and considered entirely obtuse by outsiders. From spire noble to underhive ganger, every Caliveran can recognize a threat, a joke, a promised bribe in the form, colors, and material of any given mask. Discerning whether a given mask speaks true is an art many learn but few master. The only grace preventing complete and total chaos is the interlocking complexity of the various maskmaker guilds found at all levels of society and servicing all manner of needs. These literally incestuous networks of artisan-merchants adhere to strict rules of construction and service for fear of the ultimate of punishments: a public and fatal Unmasking, wherein the very skin of the offender is torn from their skull and displayed publicly over their former workshop. Dark legends say that this practice was brought to Calivere by followers of Saint Castor, nightmarish devotees of order, fear, and the darkness of the hive.

Only at home can Caliverans be free from the imprisonment of their masks, both literal and social. Even in the leakiest underhive shanty, the Caliveran you meet might be vastly different from the one you work with or the one you fight with, and personal intimacy is a prize of great significance to any Caliveran. A husband and wife or a master and trusted servant are bonds that Caliverans prize above all else, not only for the natural instinct for human contact but also for its reflection of the divine relationship between the God-Emperor and Mankind. Thus, to be an intimate to a Caliveran is a position of great responsibility and honor to any non-Caliveran. Inquisitorial acolytes would do well to remember this fact.