THE COLLAPSE. DOOM'S MAUL
Melchizedek strode up the winding path and found the Astartes Captain surveying the sea as it crashed it's salty, murky, waves against the rocks far below. Again and again and again.
"Duty is the greatest Honour, but a burden nevertheless..." Spoke the Custodian.
"...A burden I bear gladly for His glory." replied Stefano Salbatore's, finishing off the well known words of his Primarch.
The Captain should have known that one of the Golden Legion would be able to read him like words on a parchment.
Shield Captain Melchizedek of the Emissaries Imperatus stood beside the Crimson Fist, arms behind his back and his grey-white waist cloth flickered in the sea breeze. Eyes gazing across the ocean, towards Demensne.
The Crimson Fists were finally here, established and now ready to venture the Feral Continent. It was here in this dreadful and forsaken landscape where the Orks were believed to have set up base camp. Of course, except for long slaughtered Greenskin bodies, they were no where to be found. A spearhead force accompanied by their crusading allies, Wyrdmane's Wolves were attempting to push through the frozen north.
The Air here, tasted bitter sweet. You could not deny the thriving jungle and yet everything spoke of death. 'The Collapse' was a place of ruin, a long ago seafaring settlement that had part plummeted into the ocean and part eaten by the jungle. It was clear Doom's Maul did not wish to be tamed.
"You know... the Crimson Fists have a reputation even on Terra. One I am grateful to confirm, Dorn would be proud of." stated Melchizedek very matter of factly.
Salbatore allowed himself a rare smile.
"I thank you for your words Shield-Captain. How may I be of service?" Asked the Primaris marine, only turning his head after speaking his question.
"I have come to speak with you, Stefano Salbatore."
The Captain didn't know what to think, other than this was clearly a test. Melchizedek didn't waste a moment following up.
"You have walked this world these past months, speak to me of what you have witnessed with your own eyes...and judgement."
Salbatore said nothing, and silence hung between the two warriors, then he began as he understood Melchizedek's intent.
"The Greenskins have abnormally overran a world far quicker than any known Waaagh! to date. Historical data-nodes of Krillion space record no known Ork activity in this sector, until this event. None of the defensive orbital platforms ever fired a shot. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they just appeared... This. This is what I seek to understand. So that no Ork can replicate this kind of tactic and go unchallenged."
The Custodian nodded, seemingly satisfied with Salbatore's assessment.
"What of the traitors?"
"The mongrels of chaos only seek to capitalise on this world's suffering. Colonel Cranis of the 86th is providing a bulwark to stem their interference, however reports from their lines suggest psychic phenomenons... Either there is an imminent daemon threat, such as the Plague ready to spew upon Suania anew or perhaps a message is seeking it's means to be made known, either to them or to us,as unpredictable a communication method as it is.
I think not the former, as your presence here suggests otherwise."
Melchizedek grunted, he was beginning to like the Captain.
"There is the matter of the Necrons. They were first brought to our attention in Demensne, as we defended the Cathedral. They have eluded us with their intentions, so too amongst the Crusade Council. Chief Arathon despite his conflicts is none the wiser."
"An anomaly..." pondered the Shield Captain aloud. "Arathon as been distracted with the south has he not?"
"From what I am able to piece together, his chapter along with a contingent of Iron Hands have been fighting a war in the Telokin Wastes from Thousand Sons and a band of vile war engines called 'Pandemica', until recently where a Plague of unclean daemons have swept across from the west...
Salbatore paused then added "Things seem too messy on Krillion, there is something I'm missing. Too much is going on for it to be coincidence. All the activity, the shroud of chaos, the waves of Orks, even the amount of Imperial presence. A veil has been cast. Something hiding in all the noise. What is Krillion hiding...?
"A question we have come to answer... shall we go Captain Salbatore, to look so we may find..."
Melchizedek wasn't asking. He was directing. The Primaris Captain turned and followed the Golden Warrior. Duty called.
ISILORE'S PATH, ROGUE'S OCEAN
The ancient path and derelict ruins of a bygone age that married the regions of Suania and Rogue's Ocean had until now been silent and all but forgotten. Now they stirred.
phantom's flickered as they moved, the moonlight barely capturing their existence in the dark overhang of the cliffs and jungle tops. Rune's pulsed with a shimmering energy from a long slumber...only to die.
Phantoms from a dozen, began to swell in size as they congregated down the stony steps towards the lowly coast line that looked eastward.
Powerless they watched. hoping. fading.
THE FORGOTTEN VALLEY, SUANIA
They couldn't wait no longer.
They had to try.
They had to do something.
They would march.
It could not be allowed.
No comments:
Post a Comment