Deathwing.pdf

++Priority Transmission: Coding/Delta/Rouge++

++Recipient: Loyal Imperial Commanders – as

designated by Commissariat, The Librarius Staff,

Inquisitor Baptiste & Canoness Arrea.++

++Subject: Traitors and Executions++

++Author: Andrei Viktorov – Scrivenor-in-attendance

to Inquisitor Nikolay Vinogradov++

++Thought for the Day: To cheat is both cowardly and

dishonourable++

Attention all loyal citizens of the Imperium!!!

Scanning of sacred books is a mortal sin!

*********

Whispered by Tzeentch, Lord of Hidden

Knowledge.

Inspired by Slaanesh, Master of Forbidden

Pleasures.

Resist foul machinations of the Dark Gods and buy

books from the Black Library.

***********

Thought of the Day: All traitors will be executed

without mercy and compassion!

Inquisition is watching YOU!

By William King

C HAPTER I

who they had fought alongside were dead, and the

old rivalry had long ago become fast friendship.

Cloud Runner gazed on the wreckage of his home

and felt like weeping. He closed his eyes and took

three breaths, but when he looked again nothing

had changed. He turned back towards the dropship

Deathwing. Weasel-Fierce had just descended from

the ramp. He gazed round ferally at what once had

been Cloud Runner's village and brought his storm

Bolter into attack position. A grin split his skull-

White face. "Dark Angels, be wary. Death has

walked here," he said. The sun glistened off

Weasel-Fierce's black Terminator armour. With his

white hair and y-shaped scar-tattoos, he looked like

the Eater of Bones come back to claim the world.

"The Dark Angels are your people now." said Lame

Bear in his soft voice. 'If necessary we will avenge

this dishonour" Cloud Runner shook his head.

"That is not the Way. The Warriors From The Sky

are above the squabblings of the clans. We choose

only the bravest of the mains People. We take no

sides." "Your words do honour to the Chapter.

Brother Captain," said Lame Bear. stooping to pick

up something that lay in the grass. Cloud Runner

saw that it was a metal axe-head. Sorrow warred

with curiosity and won. "This was not the

homecoming I had imagined." Cloud Runner said

softly. "Where are children gathering flowers for

the Autumn Feast? Where are the young bucks

racing out to count coup on our armour? Where are

the spirit-talkers who wish to commune with us?

Dead. All dead." Lame Bear limped away leaving

Cloud Runner alone with his grief.

*****************

Cloud Runner shook his head in disbelief. For two

hundred years he had held the memory of this place

in his mind. Although the Chapter was his home

and the Battle Brothers were his family, he had

always felt his spirit would return here when the

Emperor granted him rest. He glanced in the

direction of the burial mounds. They had been

broken open. He made his way to the entrance. He

could see that the bones had been broken and

mangled. It was a blasphemy that only the bitterest

of foes would perform. It marked the ending of his

clan. "The ghosts of my ancestors wander

homeless." he said. "They will become drinkers of

blood and eaters of excrement. My clan is

dishonoured." He felt a heavy, gauntleted hand on

his shoulder and turned to see Lame Bear gazing

down on him. Two centuries ago Cloud Runner and

he had belonged to enemy clans. Now the clansmen

Two Heads Talking studied the desiccated bodies

within the lodge. One had been an old warrior. His

shrivelled hand still clutched a stone axe inscribed

with the thunderbird rune. The other had been a

squaw. Between her skeletal fingers was the neck

of an infant. "She strangled the child rather than let

her fall into the hands of the enemy." said Bloody

Moon. The Librarian noticed the undercurrent of

horror in the Marine's voice. He took a deep breath,

trying to ignore the musty stench that filled the long

house.

"Something evil happened here, but it happened

decades ago," Two Heads Talking replied seeking

to relieve Bloody Moon's superstitious fear. He

wanted time to consider, to probe the events of the

past. The aura of old terror almost smothered him.

Shadows lay over this lodge. Something was

ominously familiar about the psychic aura of the

area.

"Lord Shaman... " said Bloody Moon. The

Librarian almost smiled, the habits of the; ancient

former lives had returned in strength now that they

once more walked the soil of their homeworld.

"Brother Librarian is my title, Bloody Moon. You

are no longer my honour guard. We are both

Marines." "Lord - Brother Shaman," Bloody Moon

continued. "No warriors of the Plains would have

wrought such havoc. Do you think…?"

Orkish look." said Lame Bear. He had been

scouting further along the crest. "No Ork ever put

stone on stone like that." countered Two Heads

Talking. "That is human workmanship." "It is not

the work of the People." said Cloud Runner. "Those

barracks are a hundred times the size of a

lodgehouse and built of brick." "There is only one

way to find out anything." said Two Heads Talking.

"One of us must visit the city."

"We shall have to investigate, old friend. We must

visit the other lodgetowns and speak with their

chieftains. If someone has returned to the customs

of the Reaving Time. we will put an end to it."

It was rumoured that some of the Hill Clans still

kept to the old daemon-worshipping practices from

the time before the Emperor's people came. If that

were true, it was up to the Marines to take action.

*****************

The warriors nodded assent. Each tapped a scar-

tattoo to indicate that he volunteered. Two Heads

Talking shook his head. "I must go. The spirits will

shield me." Cloud Runner saw the rest of the

warriors look at him to see what his decision would

be. As Captain. he could overrule the Librarian. He

looked at the city, then at the Shaman standing

quiet and proud before him. A sensation of

emptiness, of futility came over him. His people,

his village had gone.

Somehow Two Heads Talking did not think it

would come to that. This did not have the feel of

demon worshippers, although there was a taint in

the air that was akin to it. An almost recognisable

horror clawed at his mind. He fought it down and

hoped that his suspicions were not true.

*****************

The city reared above the plain like a soot-grimed

leviathan. Cloud Runner spotted it before the others

and ordered Lame Bear to land the dropship in a

valley. out of sight of its walls. From the brow of

the hill. he studied it through magnoculars. It was

an ugly place that reminded him of the hiveworlds

he had visited. It covered many miles and was

enclosed by monolithic walls. Great smokestacks

loomed in the distance, belching acrid chemical

clouds into the greyish sky.

"As you wish. Lord Shaman. Speak to the spirits

and seek their aid." he said, giving the ancient ritual

answer. "Bloody Moon's squad will remain here to

watch over you. The rest of us will take Deathwing

and seek out any surviving lodgetowns."

*****************

Outside the walls, the river ran black with poisons.

As Cloud Runner watched. he saw herd elk being

driven squealing from barges toward great abattoirs

within the walls. From huge stone barracks, people

swarmed through the streets towards enormous,

brick factories. Smog drifted everywhere,

occasionally obscuring the grimy city and its

teeming inhabitants. "That is where Lame Bear's

metal axe came from." Said Two Heads Talking,

lowering himself to the ground beside Cloud

Runner. "I wonder who built it?"

"It's a nightmare," murmured Cloud Runner. "We

return home to find our lodges ravaged and this ...

abomination in its place." "That city must hold all

the clans of all the peoples of the Plains and ten

times more besides. Could our folk have been

enslaved and taken there, Brother Captain?" Cloud

Runner remained silent, considering. "If they have

been, then we will go down with flamer and storm

bolter and free them." "We must know more before

we act. We could be outnumbered and trapped,"

replied the Shaman. "I say we go in with weapons

armed," said Weasel-Fierce from behind them. "If

we find foes, we burn them." "Suppose they think

the same? The soot and filth give the place an

Night fell as Two Heads Talking completed his

preparations. He laid the four rune etched skulls of

his predecessors on the ground about him. Each

faced one of the cardinal points of the compass and

watched over an approach from the spirit realm.

He lit a small bonfire in the deep hollow, cast a

handful of herbs on the fire and breathed in deeply.

He touched the ceremonial winged skull on his

chest-piece and then the death's head inlaid on his

belt. Lastly, he prayed to the Emperor, tamer of

thunderbirds and beacon of the soul path, to watch

over him as he made magic. Then he began to

chant.

keenest watchers. If anyone was alive, we would

have been challenged by now."

The fumes from the herbs filled his lungs. He

seemed to rise above his body and look down upon

it. The other Terminators backed away from the

spirit circle. A chill stole over him, and life leeched

away until he was close to the edge of death. Great

sobs wracked his body. but he mastered himself and

continued with the ritual.

"No!" Lame Bear shouted and ran across the

lodgetown's threshold and into the caverns. "Squad

Paulo. overwatch!" Cloud Runner ordered. Five

Terminators froze in position. guarding the

entrance.

"The rest of you, follow me. Helmets on. Keep your

eyes peeled. Weasel-Fierce, establish a fix on Lame

Bear. Don't lose him."

He stood in a cold shadowy place. He sensed chill

white presences at the edge of his perception,

clammy as mist and cold as the gravemound.

Above him he could hear the beating of mighty

pinions from where Deathwing. the Emperor's steed

and bearer of the souls of the slain, hovered.

Night-lights cut in as they entered the cave mouth.

Dozens of tunnels led from the place. Chittering

things flapped away from their lights. For a

moment, Cloud Runner allowed himself to feel

hopeful. If they were to find any survivors of the

Plains People, it would be here. In this huge night-

black maze Lame Bear's people could have hidden

out for years, dodging any pursuit.

The Shaman talked with the presences, made pacts

that bound them to his service and rewarded them

with a portion of his strength. He sensed the hungry

spirits surge around him. ready to shield him from

sight, to cloud the eyes of any who might look upon

him, causing them to see only a friendly being.

As they followed Lame Bear's locator signal

through the warren of tunnels, despair filled Cloud

Runner. They passed hallways where the dead lay.

Sometimes the bodies were marred by the mark of

spear and axe; sometimes they were crushed and

mangled by inhuman force. Some had been ripped

asunder. Cloud Runner had seen bodies butchered

like that before but told himself that it was not

possible here. Such a thing could not happen on his

homeworld - in vast hulks that lay cold in space,

perhaps, but not here.

He walked from the circle, past the watching

Marines. As he crested the brow of the hill. he saw

the distant city. Even at night, its fires burned,

lighting the sky and turning the metropolis into a

giant shadow cast upon the land.

*****************

Above them. through the gloom. loomed the

Mountains of Storm. Cloud Runner wondered how

Lame Bear was taking it. The big man's face was a

blank mask. He was not allowing himself to think

about what might have happened to his people.

The Hunting Bear village was the last they had

visited: the most remote, built in caves beneath

Cloud-Girt Peak. Lame Bear limped up the narrow

pathway in the cliff-face.

Cloud Runner tried not to think of the other

lodgetowns they had seen. They had found nothing

but desolation and desecrated graves. No living soul

except the Marines walked among the fallen totems.

They had buried the bodies they had found and

offered prayers to the Emperor for the safety of

their slain kin.

Cloud Runner could see Weasel-Fierce pause. The

gaunt man's hand played with the feathered hilt of

his ceremonial dagger. He studied the ledges above

the paths and seemed to sniff the air.

"No sentries." he said. "As a buck. I raided these

mountains. The Hunting Bear always had the

They found Lame Bear standing in the largest cave

of all. Bones littered the floor. Scuttlers fled from

their lights. Lame Bear sobbed and pointed to the

walls. Paintings dating from the earliest times

covered the caveside, but it was the last and

highest-situated representation that drew Cloud

Runner's attention. There was no mistaking the

four-armed. malevolent form. Hatred and fear

chased each other through his mind.

Unwashed children scuttled everywhere. Now and

again, huge, well-fed men in long, blue coats

pushed their way through the throng. They had

facial scar-tattoos and they walked with an air of

swaggering pride. If anyone got in their way, they

lashed out at them with wooden batons. To Two

Heads Talking's surprise, no-one hit back. They

seemed too weak-spirited to fight.

"Genestealers." he spat. Behind him. Lame Bear

moaned. Weasel Fierce gave his short, barking

laugh. The sound chilled Cloud Runner to the bone.

As he wandered, the Librarian noticed something

even more horrible. All the members of the crowd,

except the urchins and the bluecoats, were maimed.

Men and women both had mangled limbs or

scorched faces. Some hobbled on wooden crutches,

swinging the stumps of legs before them. Others

were blind and were led about by children. A dwarf

with no legs waddled past, using his arms for

motion, walking on the palms of his hands. They all

seemed to be the accidental victims of some huge,

industrial process.

Two Heads Talking stalked past the city's open

gates. The stench assailed his nostrils. His

concentration faltered, and he could feel the spirits

struggling to escape. He exerted his iron will, and

the spell of protection fell into place.

Studying his surroundings, he realised that he had

no need to worry. There were no guards, only a toll-

house where a pasty faced clerk sat, ticking off

accounts. In its own way this was ominous: the

city's builders obviously did not feel threatened

enough to post sentries.

In the darkness. by the light dancing from the

hellish chimneys, they moved like shadows,

scrabbling about crying for alms, for succour, for

deliverance. They called on the Heavenly Father,

the four-armed Emperor, to save than. They cursed

and raved and pleaded under a polluted sky. Two

Heads Talking watched the poor steal from the poor

and wondered how his people had come to be laid

so low.

Two Heads Talking studied the scribe. He sat at a

little window, poring over a ledger. In his hand was

a quill pen. He was writing by the light of a small

lantern. Momentarily, he seemed to sense the

Librarian's presence and looked up. He had the high

cheek-bones and ruddy skin of the Plains People.

but there the resemblance ended.

He remembered the tall, strong warriors who had

dwelled in the lodgetowns and asked nothing of any

man. What malign magic could have transformed

the People of the Plains into these pathetic

creatures?

His limbs seemed stunted and weak. His features

had an unhealthy pallor. He gave a hacking cough

and returned to his work. His face showed no sign

of manhood scars. His clothes were made of some

coarse-woven cloth, not elk leather. No weapon sat

near at hand, and he showed no resentment at being

cooped up in the tiny office rather than being under

the open sky. Two Heads Talking found it hard to

believe that this was a descendant of his warrior

culture.

He felt e shock as a child tugged at his arm.

"Tokens, Elder. Tokens for food."

Two Heads Talking sighed with relief. His spell

still held. The child saw only a safe. unobtrusive

figure. He could feel the strain of binding the spirits

gnawing away at him subconsciously, but they had

not yet slipped his grasp.

He pushed on into the city, picking his way

fastidiously through the narrow, dirty streets that

ran between the enormous buildings. The place was

laid out with no rhyme or reason. Vast squares lay

between the great factories, but there was no

apparent pattern. The city had grown uncontrolled,

like a cancer.

"I have nothing for you. boy," he said. The urchin

ran off mouthing obscenities.

*****************

Depressed and angry, the Marines left the cave

village. Cloud Runner noticed that Lame Bear's

face was white. He gestured for the big man and

Weasel-Fierce to follow him. The two squad

leaders fell in beside him. They marched up to a

great spur of rock and looked down into a long

valley.

There were no sewers, and the roads were full of

filth. The smell of human waste mingled with the

odour of frying food and the sharp tang of cheap

alcohol. Low shadowy doors of inns and food

booths rimmed each square.

"Stealers," he said. 'We must inform the Imperium."

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