Black Library Weekender Volume 3 by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Format: epub
Published: 2015-10-04T00:00:00+00:00

His words brought reaction from the mortal realm, vague and distant.

'He is losing his mind,' he heard Asmodai say. 'Or something is taking it!'

'Hold your fire and your tongue,' said Sammael. The Chaplain laid a hand on his companion's bolt pistol. Asmodai's annoyance at the Grand Master flared like a plume of fire in the warp, but it was met with ice formed from the determined thoughts of Sammael. 'Do not think your reputation and rank greater than mine, Asmodai. Lower your weapon, Brother-Chaplain.'

'I cross the border, unseen by the many eyes, and the garden wilts around me,' whispered Harahel, unheeded by the others.

With reluctance, his ire dimming, Asmodai dropped the bolt pistol to his side. He glared at Sammael and returned his gaze to Harahel. Harahel could feel the filth of Ulthor trying to leech his power from him. It was simple enough to siphon the rank warp energy into the hexagrammic wards, protecting his soul from corruption. On the starship, the air began to fill with shadows outside the hemisphere created by the warding signs. Harahel moved his warp-self closer to Ulthor. He found that he could not approach the tower directly, but was forced to alight in a vast overgrown garden that clustered about the broken rocks at the bottom of the immense cliff. As he explored, the Librarian allowed what he encountered to filter through his thoughts, shaping the shadows and light into representations of his warpsight. He could project visual images, but these were a flat caricature of what he felt coursing through his warp-self. The garden was grown upon a foundation of misery and hopelessness. The twisted, stunted trees delved deep into the soil of despair, drawing up sustenance from broken dreams and shattered hope. As Harahel's feet sank into the mire he could feel the leeching effect trying to suck away his resolution, but he was able to resist the melancholy draining, the ground hardening beneath his tread as white fire burned the tainted mulch. The air was thick with buzzing flies and the boles of the trees were rampant with many-legged creatures of all descriptions. They jumped about the sagging branches and leaves and regarded the intruder with glittering, multi-faceted eyes. Fungal growths vomited spores as Harahel passed, while microbes consumed everything with slow decay. A fog of sadness laid droplets upon the foliage like the tears of the lost and abandoned. The sultry rustle of the leaves was filled with murmuring laments, of loves past and opportunities squandered. From the mulch underfoot jutted stones that would trip the unwary, jagged rocks upon which ambition was broken and pride bruised. Low-hanging vines moved like serpents, ready to catch the unwary in the grip of self-pity. Arachnids with pale and bloated bodies spun webs of selfdoubt between the tree limbs, the souls of the damned writhing within, wrapped more and more with loathing and despair as they struggled against the vile threads. But not all was dismal. There were bright fronds and blossoms of rainbow hue hiding in the gloom.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.