Warcry: Catacombs Blood Of The Everchosen (Warhammer Age of Sigmar) by Richard Strachan

Author:Richard Strachan [Strachan, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-10-31T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Hunters of the Bloodwind Spoil

The remnants had broken and run – Splintered Fang, Scions of the Flame, all the ragged survivors stricken by their defeat. They staggered for whatever paths off the mountain they could find, throwing their weapons aside, some disappearing deeper into the ruins and hiding themselves in forgotten cellars or the mouldering shacks of the scavengers who had fled at the Scions’ first approach.

Bodies, crumpled and broken, were cast around the old avenue like so much despised refuse. The light was dropping low, the course of Hysh having drawn it far out across the Eightpoints to circle more distant segments of its brutal landscape. A noisome wind picked up, faint with the scent of death, and it curled like a sorrowful song across the peaks of the Fangs. After the clash of weapons and the cries of the dying, the ruins thrummed with silence, and in this silence the warriors of the Stormcast Eternals began to regroup.

‘Antigonos!’ Damaris called, striding quickly through the wrecked streets. Her cloak was torn, and her armour was scratched and spattered with blood. It had been a pale cream once, gleaming with power, but the long weeks in the Bloodwind Spoil had encrusted it with dust and filth. She took off her helmet. Her skin was like burnished bronze, and her eyes, although ringed with strain, were clear and fierce. Whatever else the Bloodwind Spoil had done, Antigonos thought, it had not lessened her zeal.

Antigonos, Hunter-Prime of the Tempered Blades, stood there cleaning his axe in the centre of the avenue, issuing orders, staring up at the listing span of the archways that surrounded him. Something in their configuration, in the style of the gargoyles that mournfully gazed down on the wreckage of their once-proud civilisation, clawed at his heart. His thoughts drifted through all the discarnate horrors of his many reforgings, the gulfs of time that divided him from the man he once was and the being he was now. Those memories were little more than flares and streaks of light, vague images distorted and made strange by his distance from them. But somewhere in that former life, in the days before the God-King had chosen him for the ranks of the ­Tempered Blades, there had been a city much like this. He was sure of it. There had been cool gardens and shuttered walkways, balconies and cloisters and sun-struck market squares. There had been peace, and life, and love…

He couldn’t remember. But of all the places he had been in this repulsive land, this was the only one to make him feel something more than outright disgust. In the flame of his soul, even here, these ruins spoke of better days.

‘Speak, Damaris,’ Antigonos said. ‘There’s no sign of the child – I’m assuming some of them have managed to escape with him?’

‘Yes, Hunter-Prime. The barbarians we tracked across the Corpseworm Marches and into the mountains. In the confusion they managed to seize it.’

Antigonos gritted his teeth. It was no small thing to evade a Stormcast ranger in the wilderness, but these savages had managed to do it.

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.