Warlords of the Dark Millennium - Dante by Games Workshop Ltd

Author:Games Workshop Ltd
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Games Workshop Ltd
Published: 2013-12-05T16:00:00+00:00

THE TIME OF ENDING

With his face shrouded by Sanguinius’s golden visage, he is the Bringer of Light, commanding some of the most loyal and mighty warriors ever to raise weapons in the defence of Mankind. In every battle, Dante is the lance’s thrust; the spear’s tip - he leads his Angels in a wrathful descent, their blades bared and thirsting for enemy blood. Though he is forever to be found where the fighting is thickest, Dante has never been too proud to cede honour to battle-brothers and other Imperial commanders, if his skyborne warriors are best used elsewhere, hunting particular prey or taking a specific objective.

In every battle, he will be seen at the head of his praetorians, the Blood Angels of the Sanguinary Guard, whose golden armour matches his own. Each of these champions of the Chapter are heroes in their own right, forgoing their chance at personal rank to remain by their master’s side. Each has served him for centuries; they are his weapons as surely as the Axe Mortalis and Perdition Pistol that he bears into battle.

On the rare occasions he takes to the field of battle without his closest kindred, Dante will lead a Company Captain’s Honour Guard, or even take temporary command of a Sergeant’s Assault Marines. The squads seconded to Dante never forget the privilege of being chosen to serve, and most adorn their armour in some way to acknowledge the honour.

In his millennia of humble service, the Blood Angels have cleansed entire sub-sectors, destroyed whole Renegade Chapters, and stood fast against the encroaching doom of the End Times. And through it all, the Imperium sees nothing but the unmoving, beauteous death mask covering Dante’s features.

However, what they see is a lie.

Without the mask, Dante’s face is a monument to one and a half thousand years of bloodshed and battle. He retains his angelic beauty, a gift of his primarch’s genetic coding, but the inhuman serenity of his visage is lined by tracks of weariness and ennui unknown to any other mortal. His hair, once gold, has turned as white as the marble statues cast in his image. He is old now. It shows.

The Blood Angels are a soulful breed, and their master exemplifies it above any other. Pale eyes stare out at a galaxy that holds nothing but war, populated by beasts and aliens that spill into Mankind’s domain in a never-ending tide. Dante knows there will be no final victory for the Imperium, yet defeat and surrender are anathema to his warrior spirit. The Lord of Angels is simply pragmatic in his infinite experience: he fights to survive, so that the candle of Humanity may light the darkness for a little while longer.

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