C. Goto - Dawn of War

Throughout the temple, the Blood Ravens touched their right fists to the flagstones, and Gabriel nodded to them in silence. “The battle to come will test us all,” he continued, “and many of us will fall. But we will fall with our blood pure and our souls in the hands of the Emperor. We will die in glory, as the saviours of the burning remains of Tartarus, and as the vanquishers of the cursed Alpha Legion. We will die, but we will kill-and we kill for one reason, and for that reason alone: because we are right.”

There was no cheer from the Blood Ravens, no rousing cries to bring their souls to a frenzy. Rather, the Marines lifted their fists from the ground in silence, clasping them into their other hands, and offering them forward to Gabriel. Without exception, each Blood Raven bowed his head and offered his oath to his captain, vowing to follow him into the very gates of hell-for that was where they were going.

“Where to next, inquisitor?” asked Gabriel, striding down the steps outside the temple, side by side with Mordecai. “Isador was our best guide to the riddles of this planet. And we have wasted enough time on riddles-so be frank with me, Mordecai,” he continued, using the inquisitor’s personal name for the first time, “do you know where the Chaos Marines have gone?”

“The battle fought between the eldar and the forces of Chaos three thousand years ago took place on the summit of the twin-peaked mountain. It is not far from here-just a few kilometres to the north,” replied Mordecai. “But I cannot guarantee that the Alpha Legion will be there, Gabriel. I know nothing of this ‘Sindri’ of whom the Chaos Lord spoke, and… and I do not know how much your Librarian understood.” The inquisitor chose his words carefully, in an uncharacteristic display of compassion towards the Blood Ravens captain.

“Sindri is not my concern, Isador is. He has fallen… and he will find my blade waiting for him as he hits the ground… You may trust that he understands more than enough, inquisitor-he was a Blood Ravens Librarian, and well schooled in the arts of the scholar.”

“Then we should head for the mountain,” responded Mordecai, hesitating before going on, unsure how to phrase his thoughts. “Gabriel-you must understand now the weight of my original concerns here on Tartarus. I am sorry for your Librarian, but his loss is a potent symbol of the power of the Maledictum. I must admit… I was surprised that it was Isador who succumbed.”

“I know, Mordecai,” said Gabriel in a conciliatory tone. “You suspected me… You were not alone, inquisitor. For a while, I also doubted myself,” continued Gabriel, wincing slightly at the thought of the visions that had plagued him since his arrival on Tartarus.

“It takes either steel or rot to willingly condemn your own home-world, captain. You must understand my concerns-even a captain of the Adeptus Astartes has a breaking point, and putting your home and family to the torch could have been it. I sensed the burgeoning seed of Chaos in the midst of your company, and you seemed all too eager to shed more blood on Tartarus,” explained Mordecai, relieved to finally make his confession to the Blood Raven. “I was so certain, in fact, that I failed to notice its true source in the Librarian. I… I was wrong, captain.”

Gabriel nodded simply; he was unsurprised by the inquisitor’s revelations. Despite the fact that he could see the way that Mordecai was trying to be compassionate, Gabriel had more important things on his mind than the conscience of this inquisitor.

“We will discuss the matter another time, Mordecai. For now, we have an enemy that demands our ministrations,” said Gabriel as the two men reached the great chasm around the Dannan sector once again. The far side was a blaze of crimson armour, as the rest of the Blood Ravens from throughout the city had made their way to this point. Cut off from their captain after the battles with the eldar and hearing the roar of battle around the temple, the Marines had already rebuilt the bridge over the ravine. Now they stood waiting for the return of their captain, with their armour gleaming, and the turrets of their tanks raised in salute.

Gabriel and Mordecai strode over the bridge, with Tanthius and Matiel leading their squads behind them. Alongside the Blood Ravens marched Sergeant Ckrius and his storm troopers, proudly receiving the honour of the Space Marines as they joined the assembled force on the far bank. As they strode across the bridge, the towering Terminator armour of Tanthius leant down towards Ckrius, placing an immense gauntlet on the sergeant’s human shoulders. “You fought well, Ckrius. I will ensure that the captain is not ignorant of that.”

The sun was nearly at its apex, piercing between the clouds that always gathered around the high summit of the twin-peaked mountain. Isador clambered up the steep pass, cresting a rocky rise as he broke through the cloud line. For the first time he saw the ruins of the ancient mountain-city, now barely more than rubble. The city had been destroyed long ago, and the people of Tartarus had never bothered to rebuild it. They were not fond of high places, and, in any case, the sides of the mountain were barren and infertile-Lloovre Marr himself had instructed that the cities should be built down in the fecund valleys, on the alluvial plains.

Climbing onto the remains of the old city wall, Isador turned and looked back down the mountain. A few kilometres away, on the rim of the great valley, wherein nestled the city of Lloovre Marr, a cloud of dust barrelled towards the foot of the mountain. As the sun beat down on the movement, Isador could see glints of crimson sparkling through the dust, and he knew immediately that the Blood Ravens were on their way.

Are you looking for me? The familiar whispering voice eased into his head and made him turn away from the vista, turning to look down into the ruins of the old city itself. In the midst of the moss-enshrouded rubble, his dual-pronged staff held vertically in one hand, stood the acid-green figure of a Chaos sorcerer. His bladed helmet glinted in the midday sun, and his visor glowed with a deep red.

Sindri, whispered Isador, returning the voiceless conversation. You are a difficult person to find.

I have been waiting, not hiding, Librarian, slithered the thoughts of the sorcerer, as Isador leapt down from the wall, crunching the uneven ground under his boots.

“You allowed me to take this stone,” said Isador, producing the Maledictum and holding it out in front of him. “You were true to your word-which makes you a fool.”

“It remains to be seen whether you will be true to yours,” replied Sindri, holding out his hand, as though expecting the Blood Raven to surrender the stone voluntarily. “Will you use it to slay me, as you promised… or will you simply hand it over, like a good little puppet.”

“I think that I will keep the stone with me, sorcerer. You are too weak to stomach its gifts, otherwise you would have taken it yourself,” said Isador, pacing in a circle around Sindri at a careful distance. “And now, I will keep my promise-to you and to the Emperor. Now, I will destroy you and end your delusional scheme here on Tartarus.”

Isador took another couple of strides, prowling around his victim. Stopping abruptly, Isador set his back foot into the ground and pushed off towards Sindri, the Maledictum held clasped against his staff, pushed out like a lance in front of him. As he dived forward, his force staff burst into life, a field of coruscating energy erupting along its length.

The Chaos sorcerer turned to face the thrust, but made no attempt to evade it. Instead, he held out one gauntleted finger and a tiny thread of purple jetted out of it, striking the Maledictum. With a sudden flare of warp energy, the stone burst into life, magnifying the power of Isador’s staff immeasurably, and surrounding the Librarian in a crackling, pulsing field of purple light.