Lyron grimaced against the biting wind despite the protection of his heavy steel armour. For all the good it did him, he may as well have been wearing the woollen garments he had worn only a few hours earlier. He braced himself and imagined standing around the hearth of his homestead near the outer most reaches of the city walls. He hoped he would return to it soon.
With thoughts of home and warmth, he pushed onwards and came to his destination. He was decidedly unimpressed as he stood before a run down house, its stone walls crumbling and wooden beams long since rotted. How it had stood for so long was a mystery Lyron couldn’t fathom.
“Filthy creatures”, he muttered to himself, and shouldered his heavy war-hammer with ease. He knew if he knocked no one would answer, not that he would hear a voice over the howling winter winds. The only course of action was the swiftest, no judgement would be given for these souls.
With deft hands, Lyron unshouldered his war hammer, and in one swift over arm swing he brought the shimmering mythril head down upon the door at its strongest point. The door toor away from its hinges, there was no need for such a powerful swing. In hindsight, he was glad he took such an action that left him armed and ready for combat, as all hell rose from the shadows to meet him at the door.
The Imperial Grand Cruiser Solaria’s Wrath burst silently from the immaterium through a widening tear in the fabric of real-space. The ship floated without life or motion amongst the tranquility of the stars for a brief moment, before it was joined in unison by its sister ships The Storm of Righteousness and Tempest’s Fury. Smaller vessels, yet similar in design […]Read more "From the Warp"