<< NapoleOrk da' Great! NapoleOrk le Grandz! You will pierce, charogne! Vive da' true Empereur! Destroyer of Worldz! >> Geza JarrJaret. NapoleOrk's voice.
++ Warp Jump detected. Meteorites storm appeared over borealis sector. ++
<< No! Another one! By the Emperor's name no! >> Admiral Dobrynya Sokolov.
OST - TSAR BOMB
A glimmer in the sky. The earth shakes. In millions that look up to the sky. A moment, than silent. An instant, and time stops. It stops, before it becomes fiery fire: Gork and Mork's wrath that everything devours, everything swallows, everything reduces to ashes. Millions of lives in few moments are vaporized, men, women, elderly and children, overwhelmed by the blind ire of horrendous and ignorant gods. The sumptuous palaces of the capital, the immense cathedrals, the glorious statutes, and the numerous command centers rise to the sky in few seconds; not in the glory of victory, but in the dust of defeat. And Baltimas the great, Baltimas the beautiful, is no more. A poisonous wind carries the ashes of the city into the air for miles and miles, descending as a funeral mantle of pure terror on all the imperial forces left to defend the planet. A second, devastating orbital attack. This time not to annihilate the armed forces, but to devastate the spirit of their opponents by incinerating the capital, and with it millions of lives.
War is hell on earth. And Galrisian is a hell of flames, flesh and steel. Thirty years of war that seem endless. The escalation of the conflict has brought the planet to a boil, a slaughterhouse of twisted sheets, debris, and pyramids of skulls beyond a horizon of cold desolation. On the whole continental line, the army of the imperium and the orc armies are fighting, without exclusion of blows, and without a way out. The arrival of the twelfth imperial army, supported by Legio Metalica H.A. Division, has not yet managed to settle a decisive strike for the fate of the war. If there was a possibility, this was at the forges of Ruhr. If there was a possibility, this is vanished. War is hell on earth, and Galrisian is sinking to hell.
[MAP, click to enlarge]
From the battle at the Forges of Ruhr two months of bloody battles and stalemates have passed, two terrible months in which millions of men have fallen. Since the arrival of the twelfth army, the losses now count at tens of millions, from both sides, even though the orks have paid a much higher price.
In the council room of the Capitol Imperialis, black shadows and fleeting green faces appears on exhausted monitors, as ghosts gathered to celebrate the holocaust. Supreme General Lord Joseph Petrescu. Supreme Commander of the ground operations for the liberation of Galrisian, is sitting with the highest circle of his strategists, while the powerful of this and other worlds appear on the screens.
D. Sibelius - << The capital has fallen. Another attack of these proportions and there will be nothing to defend. My civilization is dying. The intervention of the twelfth army forced only the escalation of the conflict. Now, instead of dying at tens of thousands, we are dying at millions. We need a fast resolution, a fast strike. A blitzkrieg, a blast that will allow us to make a decisive turn to this war. My planet will not hold such a conflict for long. But if you think that I'll vanish from the theater of history like a rover in the night I tell you, and I tell you now: The Lord Doge of the twelve Gabriel Wojciech Dardaiko of the house of Istanor VII°, also known as "Duke Sibelius of Galrisian", dies here. >>
F. Tanaiser - << Certainly, we don't want that this war lasts for another thirty years. We're trying the patience of the High Lords of TERRA with the few progress done here, isn't true General Petrescu? Lord Inquisitor Demonstates Flarius, it would be useless to say that you are hiding us more than something, aren't you in fact the the highest charge of the holy inquisition in the sector of Istanor VII°? Yet, we need them. Now! >>
J. Petrescu - << We are scraping the bottom of the pot. Fieldmarshall Tanaiser, if they really are coming, this is the right time. The entire continental line is on fire, but the orcs have a weak point: the military port of Candelora. A massive attack of the space wolves at the port city will allow us to break off their supply line, in medium term. This will push them to a shaky move, and we will hit at NapoleOrk's heart as soon as he will show arrogantly his chest. The Legio Metalica will face the green beast on its giant gargant, and once defeated, the thousands orkish tribes will melt like snow under the sun, fighting their intestines wars. Cut the head, and the snake will fall to the ground. You will see, Cavalier of the East Cross, soon you can show your superior tactical and strategic ability to TERRA's elite. >>
D. Flarius - << Men of poor Faith, what you asked at the God Emperor has come. Now you have no excuses. Win this war, or disappear into oblivion. >>
Memento Audere Semper.
OST - Corvus Corax - Sverker - 03 - Sverker
<< Noble Duke of Galrisian, High military court, Inquisitors, we will not have to flee anymore, but them, they will no longer have places to hide because the cold death of Fenris is upon them. Tactical plan acquired, Supreme General Lord Joseph Petrescu, we move to the military port of Candelora. For Russ and the Allfather! >> Logan Grimnar, The Old Wolf, Fangfather, and High King of Fenris. Great Wolf of the Space Wolves chapter.
Like a titanic wave, as Galrisian never saw, the space wolves fleet breaks from the warp jump and impacts the first line of orks' warships. An unstoppable avalanche of fangs and steel, dozens of orcs' ships are reduced to bits of fire, burned with feral fury. The ork spaceships, crazy of terror, ram each other, into a sprawling tangle of death and destruction, and so in few hours Fenris' fleet, undisputed, opens a breach in orbit over the city, their target. Almost the whole chapter gathered here for the ultimate hour of Galrisian.
<< Long life and chalices of glory to the King of Fenris! You are more than welcome! Walk among us! Millennia ago, together, we conquered the whole galaxy! >> << Hail! Red King, Red one among the reds. It's an honour strive with the Legio Metalica H.A. Battlegroup... again! Under your shiny shadow the Emperor of Mankind will prevail! >>
Sic transit gloria mundi.
In the Capitol Imperialis's command room, in the silence of General Petrescu's private quarters, a screen turns on, triggering a communication with the imperial battlebarge in orbit. The subtle and cynical face of the Field Marshal is outlined, under the eyes of Petrescu, almost absent, now completely focused on delineate the last phase of the military campaign.
++ Video channel. Open. ++
<< Responsibility lies on your shoulders, General Petrescu. It's the opportunity to close your career with a "loud, vibrant, glorious victory". Perhaps the Astra Militarum will thus be able to exercise clemency for your poor results, not always up to the Empire that you represent... and defend. >> FIeld Marshal of the twelve imperial guard army, Cavalier of the East Cross, Lord Jasper "Immanuel" Tanaiser.
<< I don't think I will have the time to enjoy the "rich" retirement, field marshal Tanaiser. However, I leave to you the glory and whatever else will remain on the battlefield, since you enjoy it by birth right. Those few days the cancer will leave me I choose to live them on Elysia, seeing my grandchildren grow up playing on the green meadows and hills of my beautiful planet, and become right men, and maybe who knows, even soldiers of the glorious Astra Militarum, and I'll die among my dear ones if the God Emperor wants this for me. >> Supreme General Lord Joseph Petrescu. Supreme Commander of the ground operations for the liberation of Galrisian.
++ Video channel. Closed. ++
Princeps P. Bezmenov - << Pastorius, I see black clouds on the horizon. The titans' machine spirits are disturbed, the interference has not stopped and to date the tech priests have not found a solution. The Omnissiah is trying to tell us something. Red King, something that we aren't understanding and will cost us... the life. >>
Princeps Incendiarius - << Fuck yeah! Bezmenov... I told you, don't exaggerate with the plasma ionic spell before leaving Piombus! Ha! Ha! What a fukin' mess... >>
Princeps W. Herzog - << Incendiarius, you're completely fool. Red King, we will have to move to battle, already well-proven by numerous clashes, under very poor conditions. But we are your legion. Honor and glory to you, Legate. We write another page of glory in the millennial book of the Legion Metalica H.A. battle group. >>
Princeps I. Baal - << Well said, Herzog. I have enough of this planet and of all this damn light. I want the sweet shadows of Charcall. >>
Legate C. Pastorius - << No fear! Princeps Bezmenov. You have listen, Legio! You have heard the orders of Supreme General Lord Joseph Petrescu. It's up to us, and soon, to close this war. NapoleOrk leads his army aboard his immense Gargant. We will face him openly. It will be a dangerous confrontation, and many of us may not return. As soon as the space wolves have liberated the military port of Candelora, we will attack. March with me, my legion! March with me for the glory of Piombus, for the Omnissiah, and in the name of the Emperor of mankind. Deus est Machina. Forward, to victory! >>
"On the ancient temple of Antenorian forge, Angry of vengeance the forgotten nemesis come. Over plumbum gates they spread the scourge, to steal their metallic glory great slaughter is done." Constanze the Prophetess, burned as a Heretic 687.M38.
OST - Sopor Aeternus - Imhotep
Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of Power divine, Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here. ~ Dante Alighieri 256.M1-321.M1.HolyTERRA, La Divina Commedia, Inferno, Canto III
Sinister echoes and clangors resound in the deep, immense caves of Yorg, than silence. A planet that doesn't exist, that can not exist, a non-place, sung by bards in the most nefarious infernal rings. The forges of Yorg, the deafening furnaces of pestilence and steel, where dumb zombies silently work, lashed by demons under the evil sight of the dark mechanicus tech-priests. Yorg, the living, steel tomb. A dead planet beyond the eye of terror, living in the immortality of the dark power that sustains it, and without which will flake off in an instant: Nurgle. A Slaanesh sorcerer in power armor holds back the anger, in the midst of such great putrefaction. Powerful yet insignificant, insignificant stands in front of a titanic effigy, immense, no end in sight. So great is that it seems part of the main cave of Yorg, but it's not. Titanic huge engine, the first, the largest among all its own. In a non-planet, in a non-place, a Nameless fallen and an archduke of the deepest infernal rings are face to face. The sinuous voice of the blasphemous Nameless priest pours into the immensity of the cave, alone in the middle of an iron void. In response, like the thunder of a rotten god, immense echoes the voice of the Prince of Ade: terrible, unholy, unclean.
<< I come to you, in the name of Abaddon the despoiler, the one and only true heir of the imperial, golden throne. >>
<< The true heir of the imperial, golden throne, you say? The narration of the last ten thousand years is false and tendentious. Written by those who call themselves: imperium. >>
<< It's time to rewrite it in a new, eternal light, Great and Unreachable Shu-Turul, Lord of the Death's heads Outlaws battlegroup, Destroyer of the system of Amnithia, Minas Carados, Elberor, Tunga; Dominator of Yorg and choosen of Nurgle, the Great father. But we need the proper instruments. >>
<< Instruments, you say? For what Abaddon the despoiler has sent you here, nameless? To incense and pray our glorious putrescence? >>
<< No, immortal, covered of glory. Your most beloved revenge marries our greatest treasure, glorious instrument of victory. On Piombus, headquarters of the damned Hells Angels Legio Metalica battlegroup, lurks and hides an ancient artifact. There, where lies the secret of steel, your maxium premium, there lies guarded a book, among millions, in the deepest and darkest libraries of the Adeptus Mechanicus. I summon you and your legion. I promise you revenge. I promise you glory. I promise you the secret of steel! >>
<< The huge gates of Aurelio are between us and the city of Charcall. It could take months of siege to shoot them down, as long as we have all this time to lay a such long-term siege, undisturbed. Even at the head of a massive cultists and black legion army, nothing will guarantee us a certain superiority to march to victory. And if we fail, who knows when we will be given a second chance. Piombus system will be fully psychically protected and interdicted from the warp jump. >>
<< In the decisive hour, my Immense, one who will open the iron gates will be found. Indeed, my Rotten Majesty, we have already found him. Immortality, after all, is not a trivial gift. >>
<< Nameless. You can go, now. Go, and tell Abaddon that we will march togheter, again. it's time to rewrite history with their blood. >>
Shu-Turul, its legs are stubby and immense, two huge gates into a microcosm of horrors. On each of them the immense face of a horned demon vigil on every maggot, worm, nurgling, zombie or unclean beast entering or leaving its body. Billions of flies buzzing and project by festering boils and countless cannon mouths. The dome one time devotee on its shoulders has now exploded into a sprawling writhe of pulsing veins and infected tissues, pregnant of pestilence and horror, ready to be thrown by huge, immense howitzers. Its entire body is a collection of damned faces screaming their pain and dark fate. Its left arm still bears the immense plasma annihilator, while the right arm bears four, terrifying missiles: weapon of mass destruction. Its head is a deformed neck from which emerges a hideous demon face, unwatchable, with an eye that almost overflows by a falling orbit. It started its march at the Emperor's side, conquering the galaxy and founding the imperium in his Name, but this march ended up with Horus, destroying what tried to build.
Shu-Turul, died without dying, there, where the temple is an empty, transfiguring, glorious ruin of guns and turrets, immortal in a filthy, self celebrating, pompous putrescence. The dome is empty, but it lives: Imperator class titan, immense engine of death. It borns as Nova Lux, built to found a new light, a new dawn for the Imperium of men, but to date, in the imperial archives, it's only known by the name of its traitor legate and the horrendous list of stellar systems attacked and destroyed by his nefarious Legion: the Outlaws Death's head battlegroup, now Legio Mortis.
