“Was over thr worse years that empire citizens could remember at Sigmar lands. The north strom unleashes its power in the septemtional provinces where the fiight was in evert village, town, and city.
Braves humans armies cross wounded fields, where in the past prosperes farmen and artisans comunities lived with their families. Soldiers only cant have a think on their mind, “for Sigmar, victory or death”. But death means that the chaos strom win and the world will be destroy.
Until these days, have a dignified death, full of glory, wasnt a bad choice for a soldier. State troops fight agains the death, looking straight to its eyes, no dout, with honor.
And Morr always has taken theirs souls, givig to them peace and eternal rest.
But this time, everything was diferent. Chaos could close Garden of Morr doors, deprive to them of eternal rest. Chaos condemn their soul to suffering, knowing that with their death, chaos becaome stronger and the strom will devour the world.
Nine hundred and thirty souls, nine hundred and thirty soul torment to the Baron. Nine hundred and thirty souls that he couldn´t avoid lost. Nince hundred and thirty souls deprive of garden of Morr rest. Nine hundread and thirty souls condemn to daemons cravings for the eternety, and theis cravins only could be suffering and torment.”
Hunc chalybem benedice,
et bracchium quod illum capit rege;
Militem, cordis dominor,
qui vexillum tollit rege.
In nomine Sigmaris, ad Veneram receptum habendo,
miles, bracchium, cor, chalys,
in cometam duarum caudarum convertis”
The young Bruno Hauptlier, crow and hammer priest, servant of Sigman, took a step back while the Baron Heinz raised his sword on the top and assented giving thank you to Sigmar servant for has blessed the steel.
Around these two men, nine hundred and thirty death bodies. All Luberecht village citizens, were holding with their foots on the top and decapitated. Under the bodies, have blood puddles formed. Decapitated while they were lived.
The Baron turned his head and look to the temple wooden wood, now destoyed. Two tails comet carving was the proud of the citizens, and now… there was nothing.
With conviction and taking the courage from his lineage, advanced for village ruins and go into the Sigman building. Inside, walls were crimson, like the blood. The yell of nine hundrad and thirty souls sounded along all the building. At the center of the nave, was pile, the kind of pile that never was raised before in a sacred place.
The skulls of nine hundread and thirty souls, one over another, forming a piramid aroud a metal totem who sweated blood. Khorne effigy crowned on the top.
Behind the Baron steps, Bruno Haupylier advanced paying, trying to help to the Baron on his mision. He could felt how the chaos madness settled in there. He could felt the pain of nine hundred and thirthy souls. But over all this noise, he could hear, clear, very clear promises of glory, pleasures and virtues that only chaos good could provide. Just by change of his slavery.
The Baron could hear daemon promises too, but not only the promises. Besides he could heard chaos goods teasing of him because he has condemned to these nine hundread and thity souls. But still he advanced straight to the Khorne totem, portected by Sigmag priest blessing. At the foot of the skull pyramid he rised his hands grippins his sword with both arms.
Red flmaes came out wueh the skull eyes turn on! In this momento, the Blood God was strong there, was launching attack agains Baron willpower, trying to stop to him.
All the promises and laughts felt silent sudenly, When the sword hit the piramyd from the top to the botton. Nine hundread and thirty souls could find rest.
Vol Wolder soldiers have been outside waiting for the Baron and priest. When the midnight arrived, they came into the temple. Inside they found a withe dust all over the walls, like bone, without blood now. In the middle of the nave, Baros body was liing but still lived.
Next to him a very old man, with white hair, and priest clothes. He rised with both hands a banner crowed with a two tails comet, briting with its own light.”