Deathwing

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.

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 who they
had
fought
alongside
were
dead,
and the
old rivalry had
long ago
become fast
friendship.

"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.

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…?"

"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.

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.

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
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."

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.

"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."

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.