The Lost Primarch Quest

[JAMalam]

The Black Covenant Part 2: The Black Temple​

Spoiler: AN

This story takes place during the start of Year 13 to the start of Year 24 of TLP

Link to Part 1: The Lost Primarch Quest

On the world of Velnias, Kesar Dorlin emerges from his five-year long purge. A world once marked for death returns to the galaxy freed from the clutches of cultists and daemons for the first time in centuries and now the Eleventh Primarch and his Eternal Wardens walk the galaxy once more in search of the servants of Chaos.

Kesar Dorlin, once a Primarch of no great significance, found his purpose on that world, truly slaying countless daemons of Slaanesh and ascending to the mantle of Daemonsbane, the first among the heroes of Mankind to do so.

Chaos recoiled in fear, for a demigod son of an Anathema ascending to such an ancient legacy may yet spell the doom of their kind. In response, an ancient pact is renewed, and the Black Covenant returns to the Galaxy, giving birth to a new daemon of Chaos Undivided through the union of Gods.

Now U'mas, the Hunter of Daemon Hunters, awakens, with only a handful of loyal servants at his side, and a legion of his own traitorous subjects squabbling over his shattered throne.

As the First Daemonsbane of Mankind returns to the Great Crusade, his Hunter takes the stage to unify the disparate factions of the Black Covenant, once and for all.

For only in unity can the most dangerous Hero of Mankind be defeated.



An infinite series of planes stretched out before the Hunter. Coiling spirals of light shone across the planes, unifying and binding them even as it tore and fractured them, illuminating the trillions of daemons waging war against one another.

The Great Sea twisted and turned the very idea of perception, mixing sights and smells and sounds and tastes into one each other and separating them apart within milliseconds of forming. Sweet fires burned the eyes, noxious darkness shattered the mind, and amidst it all, great champions of Chaos tread the grounds with ease.

Wars that had formed into existence long before the dawn of mankind began and ended in an instant before his eyes. Titans of ages long since passed clashed and roared against the defiant ants with dreams of ascension and ambition clouding the mind.

As the Warp twisted and turned, small pinpricks of light flitted about across the Sea. The souls of the dead, lost in a place beyond reason, a place beyond causality.

A few defiant lights shone with a furious light, burning the eyes of daemons and creating cause for the effect, but all light was destined to fade by he will of the Gods, and the waves crashed down upon those poor little torches, extinguishing them all without even a moment a thought.

An utterly confounding place to inhabit for the mortal eye, but even for the Daemon, the Formless Wastes were no place to wander without care for even the mightiest of daemons was no match for the infinity of the Sea of Souls.

Not even ancient Be'lakor could lay claim to this domain by the will of the Gods.

The Daemonsbane Hunter turned his eyes from the unlimited power of the Warp, the sign of the endless power of the Chaos Gods, and looked upon the Black Temple, his domain and the noble monument to unity that should have been his home.

Within the Black Temple, four factions fought for power. An Honored daemon from each Chaos God laid claim to the Black Temple even as their warring turned the Temple to dust and left the Shrine to Chaos a worthless waste.

But amongst these warring factions, there was one who had been convinced to rejoin the Black Covenant, not as a servant of the Daemonsbane Hunter, but as an equal, and to reclaim the Black temple and unify his disparate forces, her help would have to be enough.

Within the Crystal Palace of Ozianaris, the only daemon amongst the traitors so far to swear an oath of allegiance to the cause of the Black Covenant, three daemons met. Together, they planned and plotted the reclamation of the Black Temple, an act of herculean effort that would push all three to their limits and beyond even under good circumstances.

U'mas, Hunter of Daemon Hunters, silently listened to their debate as Sla'naris, Favored Keeper of Secrets and Ozianaris, Honored Lord of Change, made their case.

"It has become evidently clear that we no longer possess the forces necessary to reclaim the Black Covenant Sla'naris," Ozianaris stated with a huff. "Even if we strike fast with some nearby daemonettes as you propose, it won't make a big enough difference against armies led by champions as powerful as the ones we face."

"They don't need to win Ozi," Sla'naris smirks as Ozianaris' eye twitches at the use of the nickname. "They just need to last long enough and be annoying enough for you and U'mas here to isolate the leader and beat them to a pulp. From there, it's a simple matter for our beloved leader to convince them to join us. You know we have the skill and power necessary to pull this off Ozi, and this is the fastest way to end the war."

"There is some merit to your plan yes, but it is far too risky, and requires both U'mas and myself to successfully ambush a powerful daemon who, shall I remind you, will still have the power of their stolen Domain to call upon," Ozianaris says with frustration. "There are simply far too many uncontrollable moving parts for this plan to succeed, it would take on of Tzeentch's best diviners to even think of making this work!"

U'mas thinks upon Sla'naris' plan for a moment. Acting as a raider would allow Sla'naris free reign to work at her best, quickly isolating and killing enemy heralds before they can present a unified front. Stealth was not his best skill, but Ozianaris' divining would give the two of them a notable advantage in that area.

As he thought about it, U'mas realized it was a plan that favored Sla'naris' own inclinations towards battle very well.

A high-risk high-reward gambit that should it be successful, would have not three, but four powerful champions on their side against two, assuming they could recruit whoever it was that took the bait. And even in the second-best case, removing an enemy from the field would still leave the war in their favor should the two remaining factions unite.

But still, Ozianaris was right in that there were simply far too many moving parts in her plan. It was all but impossible for Ozianaris to accurately divine the best targets for Sla'naris' raids, it was all too possible for Sla'naris herself to be cut-off and isolated from friendly forces, it was equally likely that should Sla'naris succeed, U'mas and Ozianaris would be discovered before they could get close enough for an ambush, or for their ambush to fail, or for the other lords to take notice and then send their own forces to...

Too many what-ifs, too many points of failure. U'mas found himself unable to cast the idea completely from his mind for its potential gains, but this strategy necessitated heavy amendment before it could be put into action.

Ozianaris' plan however...

"You and your diviners Ozi." Sla'naris leaned back in slight annoyance at Ozianaris' counter. "You know, I had hoped you would have a more exciting scheme than sitting back and waiting for an opening. Even with U'mas and I working behind the scenes, there's still no way for us to actually make your faction win you know." Sla'naris lounged back in her seat and stretched out her arms in boredom. U'mas quickly averted his eyes from the tempting sight.

"But it's still the best option for long-term success. Our enemies fight each other as much as they fight me. With you two as agents working behind the scenes to cause havoc, our enemies the other lords will be too busy reining in their rebellious subjects to take note of our own moves, wherein we can easily isolate and defeat each of them," Ozianaris said with certainty.

It was certainly not a bad plan, he felt. It lacked the flash and instant gratification that Sla'naris' had, but it had a far greater margin for error and would best utilize Ozianaris' own skills as a planner and diviner. The other lords might suspect, but they had no way of knowing for certain whether U'mas was working for the Lord of Change or not, and Sla'naris herself was a complete unknown to the other Pretender Lords.

However, it was slow. Far too slow for U'mas' liking. Ozianaris' most generous prediction was that it would take thirty years in real space time to reclaim the Black Temple, but in all likelihood, it could be up to a century.

Such a timescale was unacceptable.

It had only taken Kesar Dorlin a mere seven years to ascend as a Daemonsbane after being found by the Emperor of Mankind. A mere blink of an eye to the human race, let alone the perspective of the galaxy at large.

The Eleventh was simply far too dangerous to leave uncontested for such a long period of time.

"Honestly, if you would just be willing to forget reforming your Heralds, we could cut down on the time of both our plans by years, they were so weak that I doubt they'd be of much help anyway," Sla'naris taunted the Lord of Change.

"Perhaps if you had taken even the slightest amount of care to think beyond the most immediate of consequences, we wouldn't be stuck with this problem in the first place." Ozianaris' eyes blaze with Warpfire in anger. "Killing my heralds has done nothing more than waste my time for your own little pointless delights."

U'mas' eyes flick between the two. Sla'naris' body tenses the slightest amount at Ozianaris' provocations. A fight could soon break out.

"Please, a moment if you will." U'mas raises his hand, and the two daemons back down, the tension in the Warp around them slowly uncoiling as Ozianaris releases the flames gathering in her hands.

"You both have made your points, but this is not the time for insults. Our home still burns, and it is only in unity that we can reclaim it, not in division," U'mas says calmly.

U'mas thinks for a moment, reflecting on the state of the Civil War so far. Across the Black Temple, three other Factions of note besides Ozianaris' Tzeentchians have laid claim to the domain of the Black Temple.

Karthronus, Honored Bloodthirster of Khorne, wields her near-endless army like dogs of war. Billions of bloodletters die every waking moment under a tide of blood, but just as many of her enemies die too. It is a brutal war of attrition, but one that she is slowly winning as her bold actions take the fragments of the Temple, piece by piece.

Kris'haikos, Honored Keeper of Secrets of Slaanesh, played a far more careful hand, moving her armies forward in short bursts of dazzling speed and wreaking havoc upon her foes in their moments of weakness before retreating back into the Halls of Desire. U'mas did not favor facing her once more, having personally experienced her ire, but it would be necessary to retake the Black Temple before the end.

Finally, there was Fodere, the Amber Lord, and Honored Great Unclean One of Nurgle. This was the daemon the three had the least information on but was by Ozianaris' own estimations the most dangerous. His domain was the most well-fortified by far and the one most hidden from Ozianaris' scrying, for he had yet to make any notable invasion attempt towards any of the other lords. He had been one of the few daemons to build up a notable reputation for his skill at warfare among the Honored daemons of Chaos even before coming to the Black Covenant and Ozianaris was sure he was waiting for the most opportune moment to strike.

Any one of these lords would be terrifying enough on their own for the Black Covenant to face, but all at once, it would be a nightmarish force of nature. One that would leave the Covenant in ruins before they could even think of trying to kill the Daemonsbane.

"I'm afraid there's one more factor we need to consider here, Ozianaris, one which would put your plan at risk," U'mas hums as he carefully observes Ozianaris' reaction to his critique. "As much as we can grind down their armies and their territories, the greatest asset the other lords have is access to my stolen domain."

The shattered remnants of his domain had been claimed by each pretender Lord, and the power they had access to was terrifying. It was unstable, and prone to waning as the Lords hold over their pieces of the domain slipped, but it remained a trump card of terrifying power.

The fractured power they could wield was enough that even Ozianaris, a Lord of Change not well suited to combat was easily able to contend with her student during their duel and match him blow for blow. No matter how they planned or how long they waited to enact their designs, the raw power of a domain, however fractured and damaged, would render all their preparations useless.

"None of these plans account for a way to negate their influence over the domain of the Black Temple, and as long as that remains, I'm afraid all it takes is a single moment of carelessness or weakness and we all lose," U'mas says. "It does not matter whether we choose to rush our invasion or plan it out over decades if all it takes is one singular act of power by the pretenders to ruin our plan."

"If we want to reclaim the Black Temple, we need to eliminate this advantage," U'mas states.

The other two daemons listen silently as U'mas speaks. It seems they did not have a plan for the domain either. It was a difficult situation, as the power of the fractured domain could only be used on the territory a lord owned, and that meant that the lords could not even be baited into expending their domain power meaninglessly on offensive actions against each other.

It was a purely defensive power, where one would only use it against dire threats, and without any Greater daemons of their own besides themselves, the only way to make the lords use their power would be to enter their domain and lead a frontal assault. That action alone would tip their hands and alert the other two lords of the alliance the Black Covenant had forged.

There was one way to neutralize this overwhelming advantage the enemy possessed, but it was risky, far riskier than U'mas liked. But as the silence dragged on, Sla'naris and Ozianaris seemed lost in their own planning. They would not reach the same conclusion he did.

It was only natural they did not, considering they were not born in the Black Temple. They simply did not know it the way he did by the mere act of being born in his domain.

"There is one way to end this war, swiftly and decisively, while also presenting minimal risk to ourselves," U'mas says. "Amidst all the fighting and warring, one section of the Black Temple has remained relatively unoccupied throughout the fighting. The Shrine to Chaos, the place of my birth."

The Shrine of Chaos occupied the center of the Black Temple, raised aloft on a tall mountain that dwarfed the fortresses forged by the pretenders, it acted as a central hub that connected each corner of the Black Temple to one another while also acting as a mighty bastion, but it remained unoccupied for one very good reason.

The moment the Black Covenant fell apart to infighting, a great tempest swarmed the Shrine as the Formless Wastes penetrated the Runic defenses lining the walls which had been greatly weakened by the fighting between the Honored daemons in those first few days.

Even for the daemons of Chaos, traversing such terrain was inhospitable for an individual and suicidal for an army, but for U'mas, the daemon who had been born to be its master, navigating the warped terrain came as easily as breathing for a mortal.

Unoccupied, easy to defend and navigate for himself, and an impossibly profound connection to the Black Temple as a whole, the Shrine would make a perfect staging ground for a ritual.

"The other lords dismiss my birthplace as a wasteland with no value, one which could not present a threat to themselves, and so that front remains lightly garrisoned, but they still do not realize what I am capable of." As he begins to speak, Sla'naris leans forward with visible interest, but Ozianaris seems wary of something.

"I would only need a small force, one capable of helping me to clear the Shrine of any stragglers, and then, under the pretender lord's own eyes, I would enact a ritual to return the Black Temple to the state it was initially intended," U'mas says.

"What role would the two of us play in this scheme then?" Sla'naris asks.

"Exactly as you originally planned." U'mas smiles when he realizes he can incorporate both of their plans into his. "While I lead a small contingent of Ozianaris' most skilled daemons into the Shrine for the ritual, you go out and gather a force of daemons necessary to raid their territory, attracting their attention and distracting them. You don't need to win; you just need to keep their eyes off the Shrine."

U'mas then turns to the Lord of Change. "And you will be the most important part of this plan. Even reduced in size, your territory still possesses a larger army than either of us can match. The Lords of Blood and Desire might have carved out a few pieces, but it is only a matter of time before they start to fight each other more than you. You will serve as the anvil to Sla'naris' hammer, a place where Sla'naris can fall back to in times of danger and leader of a mighty host that is all but unassailable behind your walls.The moment the ritual is complete, our enemy will be surrounded, outnumbered, and outmatched as my legions return to life."

"With all three of our legions combined, and the lords' greatest advantage turned against them, they will have no choice but to hear out our offer of alliance," U'mas finishes.

Sla'naris claps in applause of U'mas' speech, though U'mas half wonders if it is meant to compliment or more as a jest.

"Well, I for one am convinced, fast and efficient U'mas, just like I hoped you would be," Sla'naris says with a smirk. "Well then Ozi, any trifling concerns for the plan of our glorious leader?"

"There is one problem, U'mas," Ozianaris throws a look of contempt towards the Keeper of Secrets, whose smile only widens. "I think you're underestimating the difficulty of the ritual you're trying to perform."

Ozianaris taps her staff against the table and a projection of the Black Temple is laid out before them. The armies of the traitors wage war across the Temple, and even through this projection, U'mas can feel the malice of the Honored Lords radiating through the Temple and clashing in a bid for dominance over the entire Temple.

The Shrine to Chaos alone remains uninhabited as the rage of the Formless Wastes manifests itself, writhing and coiling against barriers erected by each Lord to contain it from their own lands. A fortress made unassailable by the Lords own betrayal, and now the mistake that would make their defeats inevitable.

"This will not be like any ritual I have taught you or asked you to perform before, you will be actively contending against the might of three separate daemons, each honored by their Gods and mighty heroes in their own right. Even if you survive, the chances of you successfully taking back the Black Temple domain without... unfavorable side effects are far too low."

"But it will not just be me in this ritual, your own servants will be helping me as well, and with your own false domain to boost my claim, the odds will be in my favor," U'mas counters.

"That assumes I will be able to retain all my current land to even give you that power, U'mas, and at the rate the war is currently progressing that chance is vanishingly low now," Ozianaris says. "But there's one more problem you have not thought about."

"Oh? Please don't keep us waiting dear," Sla'naris says with a hint of boredom creeping into her voice.

"The Shrine to Chaos remains unassailable as it currently stands, but the moment you begin this ritual, you will need to form a stable connection through the storms of the Formless Wastes for the duration of the ritual in order to take ahold of the domains of the other lord."

"I don't see why that is a problem Ozianaris," U'mas begins to say.

"It is a problem, because in order to make that connection, you will need to stabilize the masses of Warp energy guarding the Shrine. That connection will not be one-way, it would also serve as a bridge directly to the Shrine," Ozianaris says.

"And that bridge will need an army worth that of three Honored daemons in order to not immediately collapse," U'mas concludes her theory in dismay. It seemed so obvious now that he thought about it, waiting till the last moment to clear the Warp storm was not an option, as his grasp on the pretenders' domains would be far too weak, but doing it too early would simply allow them to invade and kill him before the ritual even came close to finishing.

"I can make that army," Sla'naris immediately speaks up. "It'll take a few more years, but it won't be a problem."

"No, you can't Sla'naris," Ozianaris then immediately states in response. "You would have to travel into the Formless Wastes and steal the armies of multiple other daemons just to meet the deadline U'mas needs you to meet, and even then, the Wastes would be just as likely to crush any force you built up."

"Your bold statement of incorrect facts reveals your ignorance dear," Sla'naris laughs. "I know the Formless Wastes far better than you do. The daemons their respect strength above all things, and even the mightiest of Greater daemons would have no choice but to bow to me, wouldn't they?"

The Warp begins to pulse with power. Ozianaris' grip on her staff tightens as Sla'naris speaks.

"And besides Ozi, my army won't be raiding enemy territories, but taking up defensive positions around U'mas in directions that are easily predictable, that swings the odds of victory quite a bit in my favor, does your ladyship still disagree?"

A dangerous energy suffuses the air. The two daemons begin gathering power, and all it would take to start a fight would be one more snide remark.

"Please Ozianaris, she knows the Formless Wastes better than either of us do. If she believes she can do this, it would be all the better for our plans, would it not?" U'mas gently intercedes. "I've seen her strength before Ozianaris, I want you to trust her as I do when it comes to matters such as these."

The Warp lessens in its fury as the Lord of Change turns from the grinning Keeper of Secrets to him. "You truly trust her when she speaks of her own capabilities, U'mas?" A hint of exhaustion enters Ozianaris' eyes as she looks at him.

"I do," U'mas replies without hesitation.

Silence falls between the two as U'mas and Ozianaris stare at each other.

The stalemate ends with a sigh.

"Very well then, U'mas, it seems I have been outvoted." Ozianaris releases a long sigh.

"I will accept you at your word when you say you can lead an army equivalent to my own, but the problem of the ritual itself still remains." Ozianaris rises to her full height, all signs of wariness gone from her.

"If you have any ideas then, I am willing to accept them," U'mas says with a smile.

"The main problem your proposed ritual has is that for all that your own connection will boost your chances of success, so too do the lords have their own connection." Ozianaris points to the fortresses created by each pretender Lord.

"They have dominated these lands for a hundred years now from the perspective of the Warp and the Black Temple to some extent recognizes all of them as well as me as its owner, to a certain extent," Ozianaris claps her hands, and the projection disappears.

"If you wish to override that narrative, you will need a connection that goes deeper than just your own, and I believe I might have a map to where one such connection may be found."

Ozianaris lets go of her staff and reaches out with a hand.

At the palm of her hand, a stream of light begins to flow outwards, bathing the room in a soft glow. The light twists and turns, bending to the will of the Lord of Change as the Warp shifts and parts before her skill.

Beneath her piercing gaze, the Warp begins to burn from the light, cleaving a hole in unreality itself as her other hand picks up a pen and inscribes a sigil on the void within the Warp.

The sign of Tzeentch coalesces into a single point across the void, emanating an ever-shifting aurora of light and sound from which an object begins to appear.
Ozianaris lowers her hand, and the void in the Warp dissipates immediately, but U'mas barely notices when he sees what has taken its place.

A silver gleam enraptures his eyes, resonating with his very essence as a sense of familiarity and belonging echoes across his body. It pulls in his body, and U'mas begins to feel something like a vision begin to manifest in his mind, a vision of something unknown yet oh so familiar begins to play in his mind.

The shapes brought to his mind begin to form a shadow born of a figure of light, something he feels is right next to him, yet far away all the same. A mess of contradictions that begins to burn in his mind.

U'mas shakes his head, casting aside the vision before it can draw him any deeper, and focuses on the object Ozianaris has summoned.

A silvery metal shard without decoration or ornamentation floats in the Warp before him. It rests silently, awaiting his will, and U'mas just barely feels something clawing at the edge of his mind, like some forgotten memory that U'mas just can't quite remember.

U'mas raises his hand without thinking towards the shard and the shard immediately flies into his grasp. It's remarkably warm, is his first thought, like a soft blanket on a chilly day when he had not even consciously acknowledged the winter outside.

A strangely human thought, U'mas realized, but the feeling itself was not unwelcome.

U'mas examined the shard in his hand. A pure silver looked back at him as he turned it over. The jagged edge was soft as he touched it, yet somehow, he instinctually knew its edge would cut any other thing that touched it. A mark of ownership, one that U'mas did not know had been forged as he held it.

It was nothing special, just a metal piece of a weapon that had long since been broken, but somehow it felt like something more as he beheld it.

So engrossed in it was he that U'mas almost missed the next words that Ozianaris spoke.

"That is a shard of a weapon of some kind, though I do not know the full details of what it was myself," Ozianaris admitted with a small huff. "What I do know is that this is the fragment of a weapon that was once used by a former Black Covenant, but more importantly, a past Daemonsbane Hunter who once resided in this very temple."
Sla'naris too leaned forward as U'mas examined the fragment. She looked at it for a few moments before she turned away and began to pick at her nails.

"Your own connection to the Black Covenant is a powerful tool U'mas, if you use it in conjunction with searching ritual, you should be able to find and bring back the full blade which would serve as a powerful ritual focus, one that might even exceed what you are worth in the eyes of this domain," Ozianaris said.

U'mas looked up at Ozianaris now with a bit of awe.

Ozianaris had to know what she was doing here.

The blade of a former Daemonsbane Hunter was likely not just serviceable as a ritual tool, but as an artifact of war. And she had just handed it to him without even trying to make a deal for it.

U'mas had almost expected the Lord of Change to make a demand or deal that would indebt him to herself, but she had given it away for free, an idea alien to the daemons of Tzeentch in particular. For her to do so now must be a sign of trust.

U'mas stood up from his seat and kneeled, to Ozianaris' confusion.

"Thank you Ozianaris, I will use this shard well," U'mas said with a smile. "Perhaps I will repay the favor you have given me."
Ozianaris squints at him for a moment, and U'mas cannot entirely read her expression. U'mas refuses to stand back up, however, before Ozianaris accepts his gratitude.

"...I may call upon that favor one day so don't be too thankful U'mas," Ozianaris says carefully.

Sla'naris suddenly jumps to her feet the moment Ozianaris signals her agreement.

"Alright then, if you two are done with your bickering I'll go ahead and start carrying out my own tiny part of this scheme." Sla'naris marches over to where U'mas is now standing and gives him a kiss.

"Don't do anything too dangerous now dear, I'll be needing nice and whole in the future we're building."

"Wha_"

But before U'mas can say another word, Sla'naris has already marched out of the throne room. The door closes shut as she exits the room, waving to the Lord of Change just before she leaves.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the two. U'mas stands frozen in shock as he realizes what Sla'naris had just done. After a minute of no words being exchanged, U'mas slowly shifts to face the still-seated Lord of Change.

Ozianaris releases another long-drawn-out sigh.

"That damned Slaaneshi is going to be the death of you one day, U'mas," Ozianaris says in frustration. "Far too unpredictable, far too carefree, and far too prone to act before she thinks."

U'mas merely laughs.

"Unpredictable she might be, I still trust her to do what's best for the Black Covenant," U'mas says as his lips tingle where they met Sla'naris'. Ozianaris begins cursing something under her breath too quietly for U'mas to hear.

"Despite my distaste for her, the one thing she understands is that we need to start carrying out our plan as soon as possible," Ozianaris rises to her feet.

"Are you certain you will be alright, Ozianaris?" U'mas asks. "If we do this, both Sla'naris and myself will be gone for an extended period where you will be on your own. Are you certain you can handle the other three Lords on your own?"

"I'll be fine, U'mas," Ozianaris says with a voice tinged in frustration. "Don't underestimate what I can do against an army of rabble from afar just because you two got the jump on me."

"If you say so, then I shall entrust this matter to you," U'mas says with a note of finality.

"I'll send some of my new heralds to watch you perform your ritual, they may not be of much help but watching you will likely help them pick up what I want them to be capable of," Ozianaris notes.

"Ah," U'mas cringes as he remembers how Sla'naris butchered the heralds sent to contain her during her bid to come to his aid against Sla'naris. "I hope that hasn't caused you too much trouble Ozianaris."

The heralds Sla'naris had killed would normally have returned to the Black Temple in only a few years to serve under Ozianaris, but the Keeper of Secrets had been far too sadistic in her handling of them during her duel, banishing their immaterial forms from the Temple as punishment for attacking her.

However, Sla'naris had also inadvertently severed the contract they had signed to serve under Ozianaris, and without that contract, Ozianaris had no way to bring them to the Temple through the hazards of the Formless Wastes without expending lots of power needlessly or risking destroying them entirely.

The current heralds Ozianaris were commanding had either been promoted from the ranks of the lesser daemons she still possessed or recruited from just outside the borders of the Temple.

Unfortunately, few of them were skilled in any great way, and so Ozianaris had to make do with inferior lieutenants to what the other Lords possessed.

"Don't pay them any mind, U'mas. It won't take long to train them back up to my standards," Ozianaris states with a wave of her hand and turns to gaze out a window of her throne room to the great war off in the distance within her domain. "Either way, we cannot afford to delay much longer, the sooner you start the ritual, the sooner we can start working on our true goals."

"I suppose you're right Ozi," the nickname leaves his throat before he thinks to stop it.

Ozianaris glares at him. "Do not call me that name ever again or I'll rip your throat it with my bare hands."

"Oh, uh, my apologies Ozianaris," U'mas hastily replies, though he does wonder how exactly the Lord of Change would go about fighting him with her bare hands.

"I shall take my leave then, may the Gods be with you Ozianaris," U'mas bows his head to her and turns to leave.

Just as his hand touches the door, a thought crosses his mind.

"Actually, his may be the last time we speak for quite some time Ozianaris, and I did have a question for you."
Ozianaris stirs out of her contemplation at U'mas' statement.

"And what question would that be?"
U'mas thinks for a moment on how to word his inquiry before speaking.

"That day, when you found me just outside the territory of the Temple and bound me to your service, what exactly were you planning on doing with me?"
Ozianaris stares at him, her expression unreadable.

"If you don't mind answering of course, I understand if you wish to keep your secrets," U'mas hastily says.
Ozianaris mutters something under her breath before speaking.

"I suppose considering our current relationship that you are at least owed that much," Ozianaris says. She looks up to the ceiling of the throne room for a long while and silence falls between the two.

U'mas patiently waits for her answer with a smile, not demanding an answer or seeking to intimidate the Lord of Change. Under the Hunter's gaze, Ozianaris' cold expression melts the tiniest amount and she finally speaks.

"Very well, I will give you the information you seek, but only once our mission here is done," Ozianaris says at last.

"I understand Ozianaris, and thank you for trusting me with this information," U'mas says and pulls on the door. "I promise that I won't keep any secrets from you for what you are doing here today."

U'mas exits the room at last, and Ozianaris releases a sigh of relief.

The Hunter was far too trusting, both of that Slaaneshi, and of herself. If he wanted to have even the slightest chances of killing the Daemonsbane, he would need to harden his will and steel himself for a long and bloody war.

But that aside, it was strange to have someone to speak and plan so openly with, for the daemons of Tzeentch were nothing if not capricious, and any alliances formed would break down in days if not hours by their God's own will.

By comparison, these two daemons, and especially U'mas, were much less prone to stabbing her in the back than her own brethren if her observations of the two had been accurate, and there was a chance, however small, that they might just be able to win in their battle against the Eleventh.

If nothing else, this change was not one that was unwelcome to her, and she would enjoy the feeling while it lasted.




U'mas looked into the Formless Wastes once again, the ever-shifting nightmare that would swallow the galaxy whole were the barriers between materium and immaterium ever truly broken. A landscape that shreds apart all sense of meaning or causality that devoured the very essence of meaning.

Some would call it beautiful, but those daemons who did were fools, for to inflict the shapeless nightmare upon all things would harm daemons as much as it did the mortals. It would mean an eternity of pointless stagnation, and an unending series of directionless change.

Across galactic history, or at least what knowledge had been gifted to him by the Black Covenant Pact, there has never been a time in the galaxy where daemons have benefited from a galaxy without direction. Whether through good or evil, change and stagnation within the galaxy had to be balanced, or else daemons would fall into the same patterns that mortals did.

For daemons were a reflection of the ensouled in all things, the immortal and the mortal, bound and shackled to each other through narratives and causality even as they battled for dominance over another.

But there was no time for contemplation now, that time would come once the Black Temple had been reclaimed. Sla'naris had already departed in search of a mighty host, and it would not do for him to fall behind her in the fulfillment of his mission.

The Daemonsbane Hunter whispers silently, and the Warp falls upon him, shrouding him in its infinite energy and protecting him from the gaze of the colossal armies traversing the Wastes.

U'mas looks down to the shard in his hand and feels the energies of the Warp within him resonate with the fragment of the blade he sought.

An invisible light shot forward through the Wastes, illuminating a path through the nightmares and parting invisible shadows U'mas could not see.

It was a dangerous journey, but one that U'mas had to take. He had already survived one excursion to the Wastes, he would survive another.

U'mas focused his will and stepped out into the path that would guide him through the Formless Wastes.

Year 13​

Within the Crystal Palace, Ozianaris examined her strategic situation. The daemons of Karthronus and Kris'haikos had already started fortifying the pieces of Ozianaris' domain they had managed to sieze while she had been distracted with U'mas.

It was not an unrecoverable setback, or rather, it should not have been, had she still possessed the full might of her army, but the battle in the Crystal Palace and the slaughtering of her Heralds left her with a heavily depleted army without competent leadership beyond herself.

She could take to the field personally, but such a personal intervention would doubtless trigger the other lords to personally intervene, and she did not like her odds of success if the Bloodthirster managed to corner her into a duel.

She would need to reclaim her territory at least in part, for any more losses would allow enemy armies to directly attack the innermost sections of her domain and potentially strike at Ozianaris herself.

But without any way to directly interfere, she would have to rmain within the confines of her own domain, not idly however, for the training of her new Heralds would need to begin immediately.

But as she began to instruct her Heralds on the importance of shared purpose in combined rituals, she tilted her head as a vision made itself known.

In a few days, a small fight would break out on the border between Bloodletters and Daemonettes on the border forts they were building, and her scrying revealed one more key piece of information. A few Nurgling agents of Fodere would also be nearby and preparing an ambush, one that Fodere would likely call off once the Heralds of the other two Lords intervened to stop the fighting.

An opportunity to act and reclaim what once was hers. Ozianaris would make a poor Lord of Change if she did not act on her opponent's weakness while they thought her beaten into submission.

And so Ozianaris sends forth her nine new Heralds on a mission of utmost stealth and secrecy.

The first Herald was caught by a wandering detachment of Slaaneshi daemonettes and forced to retreat.

The second and third reached the border of the two Honored Lords but found the paths they had divined to their destination too well guarded. The third perished in the fighting upon their discovery, and the second was forced to disengage.

The fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth arrived at their destination, but found the Khornates and Slaaneshi daemons far too bothered in their own petty disagreements to fight each other. Without a clear way to carry out their mission, they disengaged and reported back to Ozianaris.

The ninth Herald reached a pair of fortresses held by each Lord and their daemons in the middle of an argument of some kind but found no daemons loyal to Fodere nearby. They carried out their mission anyway, and started minor fires within each fortress, forcing the daemons on each side to start fighting.

A minor front forms along the fortresses as hundreds of millions of daemons of Khorne and Slaanesh are called upon to reinforce, creating a minor gap in the two Lords defensive formations that Ozianaris' forces would later be able to exploit during their counteroffensive.

It was the fourth Herald who found the source of Ozianaris' divinations. A series of castles designed to withstand the onslaught of multiple armies could be found arrayed on either side of the border as a few minor daemons began to clash.

The fourth Herald immediately acted upon detecting the presence of the Nurglings, and silently began to move into position, carving runes into the walls of several forts that would explode upon activation.

They waited until the moment of greatest conflict, just as a Herald of Khorne and of Slaanesh marched over with a contingent of their finest warriors to separate the two fighting armies. The moment the two heralds laid eyes on each other, explosions rippled across the Warp, killing a few thousand daemons along either side and bringing down months of work in a single instant.

Karthronus' most elite soldiers began to rage and charged into battle without hesitation, and Kris'haikos' own forces changed their trajectory and began their own countercharge. In an instant, nearly a billion daemons of Khorne and half a billion daemons of Slaanesh began to fight in an unplanned and uncoordinated mob.

The Herald of Tzeentch immediately retreated as the Nurglings vanished, and a Herald of Nurgle began to watch from a far ridge with an army in waiting. The Herald of Tzeentch reached friendly territory just in time, as the daemons of Nurgle raced to the scene and carved gaping holes in the defenses of both daemons.

By now, the entirety of the Black Temple began to move to war, and the Honored Lords themselves made preparations to interfere, as billions of daemons fought over territory that no side, but Fodere's was sure they could truly claim.

Under this unexpected assault, the Herald of Nurgle roared their victory as they held up the heads of Slaanesh's and Khorne's Heralds, a testament to their skill and valor, but their victory was short-lived as the Warp twisted beneath their feet.

Ozianaris raised a hand before the other lords could act, and slammed her staff into the ground, enacting a ritual she had personally designed for situations like these. All at once, a billion daemons of Tzeentch arose from the shadows casted by the forts and picked off groups of daemons, one by one.

The Herald of Nurgle panicked and ordered an immediate retreat, but a group of blue horrors swarmed his honor guard, and soon their head was brought forth to Ozianaris, along with the heads of the other two Heralds they had claimed.

As Ozianaris watched from a distance, the other Lords snarled and ordered a retreat rather than risk Ozianaris turning this rout into a full-blown retreat, and the daemons of Tzeentch cackled as they reclaimed much of the territory they had lost.

The loss of a herald hurt, but this regained territory would serve as an excellent buffer for the coming retaliatory strikes.



Within the Formless Wastes, Sla'naris began her hunt for an army to match an Honored Daemons. Such a search would normally have been meaningless for a Favored daemon, but Sla'naris had lived a long enough life to know how to make daemons bend to her will, and her sublime skill with a blade would make those who resisted bend anyway.

The Keeper of Secrets soon found a suitable target, a Herald of Slaanesh gathering an army for an assault on some material world, one which she could hardly care less about.

It took her scarcely a few hours to infiltrate their camp, and only a few more to find the Herald isolated and separated from their honor guard.

Sla'naris laughed as the Herald of Slaanesh was forced down to their knees. It had been a matter of a few moments to end their duel, and as was sworn, the Herald would have no choice but to commit their forces to Sla'naris' cause.

It was only a few million daemons, but within the Formless Wastes, for a Herald to maintain such numbers was a luxury afforded only by the strong, and their skill would serve her well.

Sla'naris pulled the Herald to their feet and continued her search for more daemons with a small army at her back.



U'mas' journey had been both easier, and more difficult than he had initially anticipated.
The moment he stepped into the Formless Wastes, the silver light guiding his path began to bend and twist under the weight of the Warp. U'mas would begin to walk forward a thousand steps, only to turn around and realize he had not gotten even a meter from where he had been standing.

The Formless Wastes bowed for no one, especially not a lowly daemon, and so U'mas was forced to focus only on the path, even as it twisted and bent and the weight of the Great Sea.

It was just as the path twisted and U'mas was about to take a step that would set his journey back by weeks that something strange happened, the wind that followed the Great Sea bent, only the tiniest of millimeters.

U'mas pulled back from the path and watched as the wind shifted and smoothed the patterns of the Sea. A step a thousand meters back became a step one meter forward before his very eyes, and U'mas hesitated.

To bend the will of the Warp was something only afforded to the mightiest of daemons, or perhaps the most intellectual of Tzeentch's servants, and some unseen force had identified U'mas to guide him along the path he had already been following.

U'mas contemplated for a moment whether to follow the new path the winds had forged for the silver light and decided to keep moving forward.

He would not question whatever divine force was assisting him, for the sooner he reached the Blade of the Daemonsbane Hunter, the sooner he could begin his holy mission.

Year 14​

As her servants begin to build up defensive positions in her partially reclaimed domain, Ozianaris sees a troubling vision.

The Amber Lord Fodere looks upon his fallen Herald, and weeps. With a furious sorrow in his heart, he orders a massive horde of daemons to attack the Lord of Change.

Ozianaris blinks as she sees tens of billions of daemons marching upon her domain and realizes she will not have the time necessary to properly garrison all the fronts that will soon be invading.

Ozianaris again curses Sla'naris for butchering her most experienced servants and quickly realizes that she will lose part of the domain that she had just reclaimed. The Lord of Change turns her divination towards the Lord of Blood and the Lord of Desire to determine if they too will attack, for even a small incursion by either of them would be disastrous for her prospects of victory if timed to closely with Fodere's invasion.

It is here that the winds of Fate turn in her favor, and Ozianaris breathes a sigh of relief when she sees that the front between the Keeper of Secrets and the Bloodthirster will grow in scale instead of diminishing, allowing Ozianaris to mitigate the losses she takes from the Great Unclean One.

Ozianaris tasks a single herald and a small force of lesser daemons to hold the flank against the Daemons of Slaanesh and Khorne as the majority of her army turns to reinforce the front with Fodere, but by the time they arrive, the main wave of Nurgle's daemons have already overtaken several critical locations.

Ozianaris watches from afar and realizes that The Amber Lords forces are far too entrenched even in the earliest stages of battle for her armies to overcome as Heralds of Nurgle spread their influence across a new series of Mansions designed to withhold a planet's worth of plagues for any unfortunate attackers.

The Lord of Change thinks for a moment as she divines the forces of Tzeentch that still fight on and then plucks the strings of Fate to shift one of the most important battles in her favor.

When Fodere's army makes contact, the towers meant to enhance sorcerous power are only half finished, and a Herald of Tzeentch is forced to the field in a desperate bid to delay the enemy as long as possible.

A tidal wave of Nurglings hurl pestilence and disease at the walls decaying and ruining wards designed to guard against light intrusion, and the Daemons begin to break when the walls break down seven minutes before the planned ritual is completed.

The Herald descends upon a chaotic battlefield on a pure black horse, casting great infernos to burn away the stench of thousands of daemons and forces the daemons of Tzeentch to maintain cohesion as they fight a war against both the daemonic and the Warp itself.

The Herald of Tzeentch charges from one breach to another, reinforcing where they can and buying time for other daemons to reform secondary defense lines as millions of Daemons of Nurgle pour into each and every crevice that is left undefended.

But the balance tips ever precariously, and the Herald of Tzeentch is distracted by another squad of Nurglings for a moment too long, and for their lapse in focus is struck by an invisible force that steps out of the shadows, revealing itself as a Herald of Nurgle.

The Herald of Tzeentch coughs up bile and boils begin to form along their immaterial form as the Herald of Nurgle raises them to the sky as an offer to the Amber Lord. The Daemons of Nurgle then swarm around a group of Blue Horrors performing a ritual to banish the invaders and slaughters them in minutes.

And yet the moment the Herald of Nurgle lifts the Herald to the sky, Fate shifts, and a single drop of blood forces its way through the bile and pus, completing a ritual circle that activates and begins to glow.

In an instant, the Tower of Tzeentch disappears, along with the Herald of Nurgle and whatever daemons were still unfortunate enough to remain inside, banished from the Black Temple and never to return.

The other Heralds under Fodere's command reel back as the psychic backlash shocks them out of their designs, and they cease their plans for the second wave. The Daemons of Nurgle under Fodere's command choose to spread out their own armies, limiting their force concentration and defending along a wide line instead of building up a strong series of forts, effectively halving their own growth and limiting their ability to defend their newly conquered territory.

Ozianaris quietly breathes a sigh of relief as she divines this new state of affairs. The fighting between Kris'haikos and Karthronus is bound to die off soon, and she will need her armies at full readiness to counter whatever schemes the other two lords are planning as payback for reclaiming her domain.

And doubly so she must be prepared for the second retaliatory strike from Fodere, this time for removing yet another of his beloved Heralds from the field.

Ozianaris begins to look away from her divination, releasing her hold on the Loom of Fate, and she prepares to take her Heralds to the next stage of th_



Sla'naris laughs as she looks out upon another plane of the Formless Wastes. A form of the Great Ocean made literal, Sla'naris floats through the seas, dragging her unwilling First Herald alongside her as she investigates the distant signatures of Warp energy that could not hide from her senses.

The Keeper of Secrets walks around sections of shattered time with ease but doesn't bother to warn the army she forced into her service. Around a million daemonettes of Slaanesh perish and forced to reform decades later as the timestream abruptly shifts, forcing them to experience banishment, and a scant few disappear, never to return to the Immaterium again, or at least insofar as the Daemons understand it.

Sla'naris looks back a few moments as she watches how the Herald she had just recruited tries to move around this landscape, and immediately laughs when the Herald gets caught in between two seperate rotating blocks of time.

The Herald cries out in surprise as their midsection is caught in between the two alternating fields and cries out for aid. A few nearby daemonettes hesitate, and that's all it takes for the Herald to be torn in half at the waist.

The Keeper of Secrets considers killing it then and there and starting again with a new Herald as the injured Herald forces the daemonettes to hold it up and drag it along, wincing in pain as it begins the painstaking process of regenerating from a field of erased time.

Meh, too much effort, she thinks, and keeps moving along the safest path, ducking out of the way of a swinging mace that caves in a daemonettes skulls. Random weapons appearing from nowhere and killing someone was far too common occurrence in these parts she felt.

As Sla'naris looks upon her new army, she nods in approval as they slowly learn to perceive and move in this new environment, following the subtle signs Sla'naris was showing that indicated danger and slowly adapted to the problems ahead of them.

It was a slow, but effective way of building loyalty, Sla'naris felt. Where the daemons must learn to obey her without question and without even her speaking, it also had the side benefit of forcing the daemons to become more skilled in navigating this difficult terrain without her extensive guidance.

Sla'naris smirked as she finally caught a glimpse of the Herald of Slaanesh she had been tracking down, who froze in fear and began to quickly bark orders to the tens of millions of daemons who followed their lead.

Sla'naris reached for her blade and_



U'mas listened carefully as he watched the winds shift the path to a more stable one once again. As he traversed the Formless Wastes, U'mas quietly observed the planes of the Warp slip away. At first, he had traversed nearly a hundred every minute, now however, the rate of change began to die down drastically, especially as the wind continued to blow.

Once again, the fragment of the Blade in his hands shook with the changing of the winds, and a wall was knocked down, revealing a secret passageway that cut down on his journey by days.

As he listened to the wind, attempting to discern some ulterior message or motive that was contained within, the Daemonsbane Hunter found himself increasingly confused.

Whatever force was guiding him was very accurate but highly unstable, easily bypassing broken or unbound spheres of time and space to an extent where he almost thought he was walking the Materium and not the Immaterium, and yet at the same time the wind would falter at in its guidance the blockage of a single stone or a door that merely needed to be opened.

U'mas could not yet discern any real reason behind its random fluctuations, only occasionally identifying periods where a hidden stream of Warp energy appeared to cut off at random and unrelated points, but he could not identify by what means such an energy was transmitted or what said energy even did to alter the paths created by his shard, only that some outside force appeared to be interacting with it.

Regardless, the divine wind had been his only aid so far, and so he continued to trust in it and was rewarded for it as several traps and obliterated planes of the Formless Wastes were easily bypassed.

U'mas smiled and cradled the shard in his hands as thought of_



All at once, the three Daemons bound in blood by the Black Covenant freeze.

Ozianaris halts her endless scheming within the Black Temple and looks to the Loom of Fate, shocked and horrified to find its threads becoming frayed.

Sla'naris and the Herald she is chasing both feel a pulse of terror as the weight of a God's will bears down on their shoulders, nearly crushing them s they fall to their knees.

U'mas begins to scream in anger as a vision forces him to bear witness. The Hunter's eyes darken as he beholds his most hated foe.

Kesar Dorlin, the Daemonsbane, holds the Sword of the Lost to the sky, looking upon the galaxy in its entirety.

At his feet lays the Fateweaver, an Exalted daemon of supreme vision and sorcerous might, brought low by the will of a single man and his defiant son.

The Sword of the Lost falls, and Kairos Fateweaver is truly killed, the first of the Chaotic Demigods to truly die in an eternity, and Daemons and Gods of Chaos across the galaxy freezes as the galaxy changes ever so slightly for the better.

Ozianaris feels tears fall from her eyes as the Loom of Fate snaps and reforms at the will of Tzeentch, forever marring its perfect accuracy and casting all future diviners of Tzeentch into cycles of doubt and uncertainty.

Sla'naris shivers as she feels a portion of her own sublime skills fracture and grabs on to the power as it attempts to flee. In a few moments of careful wrangling, the power that nearly abandoned her returns to her control unmolested, but she now looks to the Daemonsbane not with just excitement, but a tinge of fear as Slaanesh's Perfect Perfection is permanently marred through Scafrir's Defiance.

And U'mas, Hunter of Daemon Hunters, screams in rage as he can do nothing but watch his hated foe ascend to new heights, bound to the Black Temple and helplessly lost to the path he still must tread. The wind surrounding him howls furiously, and the Hunter is brought back down to a state of calm. The thunderous tempest dies down as U'mas lets the Warp take his emotions and wrath from him, allowing him to think calmly once more.

He had known Kesar Dorlin would grow stronger, but to kill an Exalted Daemon so soon, and one so mighty...

The Hunter brings himself back to his feet and turns his gaze back to the path.

He whispers a short prayer to the Gods above for speed, and redoubles his efforts to find the missing Blade, with the whispers of the wind growing louder by just the tiniest amount.

Year 15​

Ozianaris reels back from her divinations, as the Loom of Fate reconstructs itself from its sudden collapse. Very quickly, the Lord of Change decides that she cannot rely on her divination for the time being to predict her opponents' next moves, and her suspicion is proven right.

Ozianaris' forces previously preparing for a second wave of assault from the Daemons of Nurgle are surprised when it never comes, and a year's worth of preparations are rendered near useless. A small scouting part is quickly assembled by a nearby Herald of Tzeentch, and they find that although the defensive structures are still garrisoned, they are orders of magnitude less defended than expected.

The Heralds of Tzeentch begin to prepare a retaliatory strike only to be quickly ordered to stand down by the Lord of Change when she discovers where Fodere's armies are marching.

At first, the Lord of Change is puzzled as to why the Great Unclean One would abandon the momentum he'd built and begin a new offensive, but she comes to realize that Fodere already has what he wanted. A collection of forward operating bases beyond his personal domain from which Fodere can now begin conducting raiding operations, slowly weakening and grinding down Ozianaris' forces until her armies become too weak to resist an invasion.

It's a simple trick, but an effective one, and none of Ozianaris' plots will be sufficient to reset the board in her favor without a much larger force concentration than she currently can muster.

Or at least, better and more experienced Heralds than she currently has. The Lord of Change silently curses Sla'naris for the sixth time that year.

As Ozianaris realized this, the Amber Lord made his move.

As the fighting between the Daemons of Khorne and Slaanesh began to wind down, the two armies slowly retreated to their own defenses to begin licking their wounds and replenishing their numbers for the next assault. The Heralds of Khorne began whetting their blades against their own servants, butchering them by the thousand as they honed their skills for the next battle.

The Daemons of Nurgle approached the infighting Khornates silently, long used to the Amber Lords demands that they maintain stealth for as long as possible. Their formation marched carefully, such that each movement was shielded by the random static bursts of Warp energy that flooded the plains of the Black Temple.
It was mere luck then, that a single bloodletter spotted a plaguebearer in the distance who was out of formation. The lesser Daemon of Khorne roared, drawing the attention of thousands of other nearby daemons, and together they charged, unveiling nearly a hundred billion daemons of Nurgle moments before they were ready to strike.

When the Lord of Blood Karthronus witnessed billions of her daemons idling in their own duels ignoring the daemons of Nurgle, she roared, claiming the skulls of millions of her own daemons with a single strike from her axe. The surviving daemons quickly turned and charged the invaders, turning the fields between the Lord of Blood and the Lord of Decay's domains into a brutal killing field.

A range of mountains built on the bodies of the deceased rapidly formed, where atop each Heralds from both Lords clashed and fought.

On one such mountain, a Herald of Khorne laughed as their bloody mace tore open a Herald of Nurgle's skull.

On another, it was the Herald of Nurgle who laughed as their ritual of disease wracked the Bloody Herald with unholy rot and pestilence.

But on most, the Heralds merely fought, locked in duels that were doomed to end in draws as lesser Daemons from each side dragged their own Heralds out of harm's way, even at their own peril.

The Lord of Change silently observes the growing action from afar, slowly rebuilding her strength as she prepares to enact a new scheme until she finds an unexpected opportunity.

A wave of energy pulses from the Palace of Pleasure, a sign of Defiance and sheer will mars Perfection, and the daemons of Slaanesh are stunned into inaction at their God's wounding. Kris'haikos herself appears to move sluggishly and without purpose for a few moments, causing the domain as a whole to be sent into a panic, one which disorganizes their defenses and leaves small holes in their patrol capabilities.

The Lord of Change shakes off the weight of the loom's shattering and moves her Heralds into position. Her three most experienced and skilled Heralds begin to infiltrate the domain of the Lord of Excess, moving slowly and with absolute silence as they reach the borders of the Hall of Desire.

The three Heralds begin to lay the foundations of a ritual that they will not complete for years, choosing instead to let it sit in waiting until Ozianaris is prepared to fully strike.

But although these Heralds are skilled, they lack humility, and so the moment they begin to draw on the Warp, they underestimate the Perfected senses each daemon of Slaanesh possesses.

The leading Herald sent by Ozianaris, one who had successfully led an infiltration of the domains of Blood and Excess only a couple of years prior lets out a smug grin as the Horrors under their command begin their ritual.

They begin to observe the floundering Daemonettes around them and find them unimpressive. Although their skill in combat was praiseworthy to a certain extent in their eyes, it meant nothing to the power that could change the Warp itself.

With a few words whispered, the Herald doubles the rate at which they gather power, expecting the completion of the ritual to occur in half the time and give them a way to make a petition to the Lord of Change for having sped along her plans.

But the moment the drawing of power shifts, the Halls of Desire begin to shake, and Kris'haikos looks up from her shaking hands to see an intrusion upon her domain.

For a single, excruciating second, the Herald of Tzeentch turns away from the impending disaster, more preoccupied with their ritual, and in doing so damns their entire ritual.

In the space of a single breath, a perfect blade is drawn, and Kris'haikos, the Lord of Excess leaps from her throne and arrives next to the infiltrating daemons in a single bound.

The Herald screeches in a most undignified manner as they are instantly cut down and banished from the Black Temple with the other two Heralds quickly following suit.

Of the three Heralds and their hosts sent to perform the ritual, not one single daemon returns.

Ozianaris sighs in frustration as she counts her losses and calculates that she has lost a full year's worth of progress on rebuilding her Heralds to their former strength.

With her only true plot for that year undone, Ozianaris returns to training her Heralds and preparing for the war of the Black Temple to escalate.



After shaking off the effects of Scafrir's defiance, Sla'naris returns to her objective of building an unbeatable army.

The Keeper of Secrets allows her Daemons to drag the still partially wounded Herald with them as she chases her newest prey. The Herald of Slaanesh lets out an undignified squawk as Sla'naris suddenly hurtles into view, a sadistic smile lighting her face.

The Herald lashes out with their favorite spear, a weapon they acquired by seducing a master blacksmith in the materium, and unleashes an arc of pure lightning.

Sla'naris laughs as she deflects the attack with a casual swipe of her hands and grabs the spear by the tip. The Herald screams in terror as Sla'naris breaks off the tip and stabs them with the broken end.

The Keeper of Secrets then kicks out, shattering the knee of the Herald and forces them into a kneeling position. It only takes a few moments for the Herald to sign the pact Sla'naris offers, using their own blood pooling out from their chest to sign it, and Sla'naris giggles as her army swells to nearly a hundred million in numbers.

For a moment, Sla'naris considers continuing to hunt down more wandering Heralds, but at that moment, the Keeper of Secrets pauses as they begin to catch a glimpse of far more interesting prey.

Sla'naris swings her blade and tears a hole between planes of the Formless Wastes and steps through without a moment's delay, hardly noticing as her crippled Heralds do their best to hobble after her.



The Daemonsbane Hunter devotes himself entirely to the path, letting go of all other worries or doubts as he focuses entirely on his mission of finding the lost Blade.

The winds respond eagerly to his speed, slowly adapting to his heightened pace as they begin to tear obstacles out of his path. U'mas begins flying between planes of existence once again, barely noticing as entirely new sets of laws try to exert themselves on him in a desperate attempt to slow him down.

As U'mas allows the shard's energy to guide him, he notices a pattern in the wind as it carries him along the path. Despite its random fluctuations, there is some sense to its seeming madness.

Rather than merely guiding him, the wind is also shielding him, obfuscating the divinations, the sights, the smells, and the ears of trillions of Daemons as he passes them by, and it seems to him that this protection offered to him might be what causes these random fluctuations.

For the winds beyond his comprehension devote themselves to not just guiding him, but protecting him from wanderers that draw near, and its ability to guide slowly falls as its ability to protect is forced to grow.

But that is certainly not the whole story, for in those quiet moments when the winds die down, U'mas catches a different, altogether unexplainable sound buried deep within the gentle breeze, but is never quite able to focus his senses on what it is before it slips away.

The Hunter knows not who or what is guiding him, but the Hunter must Hunt, and so down the Warp he continues to go.

Year 16​

In the year following her failed attempt to infiltrate Kris'haikos' domain, Ozianaris once again finds herself forced to act defensively. With the Daemons bound to Karthronus engaged in other battles, Kris'haikos is given free rein to carry out a revenge campaign against Ozianaris' forces.

The moment Ozianaris finishes elevating new Heralds, she forces them into battle with the Heralds of Slaanesh. Strike teams of Slaaneshi daemons led by their Heralds probe the defenses of the Tzeentchians, carefully peeling back layers of walls or ritual wards with quick and precise attacks before retreating to strike somewhere else.

The Lord of Change notices that her Heralds are remaining on the back line, attempting to divine where the enemy intends to strike before making a plan to defend, a beginner's mistake that cedes initiative to the enemy, one that she would rectify with a single demand that her Heralds must now fight beyond the walls of their fortresses instead of behind them.

A few Heralds show signs of discontent but do as they are told in the end. Without the ability to cower and wait for the enemy to attack, a few finally begin to show signs of initiative. Some of her Heralds decide to lead balanced forces, combining diviners with magic and a capable front line to defeat Slaaneshi daemons through combining all the strengths of their daemons.

The other daemons resort to their own versions of hit and run tactics and divine as they move, sacrificing accuracy and the length of time they can see to stay immune to attempted ambushes while staying hot on the trails of their enemies.

One of her more enterprising Heralds even manages to bait a Slaaneshi Herald into attacking a weakened section of a Tzeentchian fort and manages to flank them, smashing them between the fortress defenders and the Heralds own army, resulting in the death of one Slaaneshi Herald.

It would be a lie for Ozianaris to state that her Heralds had succeeded beyond expectation, for one of her Heralds perished in a poorly planned ambush attempt that ended in a three versus one against other Heralds, but in the end, Ozianaris' Heralds managed to maintain her borders without necessitating her direct intervention.

A marked improvement over the previous years when other daemonic forces moved out in force. They still had room to grow, but at last Ozianaris could see a future where she devoted her full power to winning the war instead of dragging her Heralds back to their full level of skill. If only they would actually coordinate with each other the majority of her problems would be solved.

But as Ozianaris and Kris'haikos waged a series of skirmishes against each other, the war between Fodere and Karthronus only continued to escalate.
Hundreds of billions of daemons clashed along the borders between the Daemons of Khorne and the Daemons of Nurgle, as reserves were continually called upon, depleting forces along other borders to replenish the rapidly depleting lines along both sides.

The Daemons of Khorne roared for blood and slaughter as they continually charged the long defensive lines formed by the Daemons of Nurgle. Individually, the Khornates were far superior, each a better warrior with a bloodlust and instinct that could not be surpassed, yet the Heralds of Fodere wielded their armies with an uncanny precision and lethality.

One of Karthronus' boldest Heralds led a charge of a billion Daemons against a Herald of Nurgle. The Daemons of Nurgle raised their arms in celebration of their father as plagues began to spread amongst the charging horde.

The armies of Karthronus were butchered as the diseases spread, forcing many Daemons to fall to their knees in agony and slowly dissipate into the Warp, but the Daemons of Khorne fear naught but the end of their slaughter, and so the Herald continues their foolish charge.

By the time they reach the enemies' lines, they are reduced to barely a tenth of their numbers and badly wounded. The Herald of Khorne smashes through a host of Beasts of Nurgle, exploding the lines of their allies in viscera and gore as they lead the way singlehandedly.

The Herald charges forward, utterly relentless as they force their way to the position of the Herald of Nurgle, losing countless Daemons to the slow but inevitable tide of entropy. By the time they reach the enemy Herald's position, they have lost an arm and are reduced to a mere hundred thousand.

The Herald of Nurgle gives a soft smile to their children as they draw a blade of fetid rot and meet the Khornate's charge halfway. The duel barely lasts an hour, for the moment the Khornate lesser Daemons are defeated, the children of Nurgle drown the enemy Herald, and they disappear beneath an ocean of decaying bodies.

After the loss of so many Daemons, Karthronus roars in anger as they are forced to withdraw their forces to secondary positions to prevent their remaining army being surrounded and defeated, ceding territory and lives to the Amber Lord in order to guarantee that they might live to fight another day.

With rage in their voice, they loudly declare that the Amber Lord shall end by their own hand, and the Great Unclean One accepts this declaration with silence. The Heralds of Nurgle and the Heralds of Khorne chant the names of their Gods as two Honored Daemons prepare to meet in combat for the first time since the beginning of the War.

Ozianaris curses as she divines this and secretly prepares a small task force of suicidal Daemons should they meet on the fields of battle, for the Black Covenant will need both daemons to live if they are to ever complete their divinely appointed mission.



Sla'naris bursts through the portal, leaving behind the Great Ocean and entering a sea of fire. A trillion souls suffered endless torment, both at the hands of the laws of unreality as well as the cruel denizens that inhabited this place, but those were of little interest to her.

Racing past a thousand wars between daemons of various statures, Sla'naris set her eyes on one particular Daemon, one she had once faced in the past and now laughed as the daemon looked up in horror.

A billion daemons of Slaanesh looked up in confusion as their leader suddenly froze amidst their sermons.

The Keeper of Secrets cursed as they realized the identity of the individual approaching at an extreme rate and suddenly dropped the accused holy text in their hands. A nearby herald quickly seized the book of sinners and stowed it away in a place no one could find it, but the Greater Daemon did not notice as they began running at full speed for a gate into another plane of the Formless Wastes.

Sla'naris released a feral grin as she moved faster and faster and left her army in the dust.

As she hurtled past the now leaderless army of Slaanesh, Sla'naris watched for a few moments as the army of the fleeing Keeper of Secrets quickly descended into chaos. She would have mere hours to bring this army under her control before it completely self-destructed, but for a daemon of her skill level, that was more than enough time to indulge in some fun.

Sla'naris turned away from the infighting and looked at the fleeing Greater Daemon. With a single step, the ground of the Immaterial plane cracked and shattered, and she began hurtling towards the enemy daemon at terrifying speed.

The Keeper of Secrets felt a wave of dread fall over them as they quickly realized that they would not be fast enough to reach the gate before Sla'naris caught up. They turned to face the Favored daemon of Slaanesh, and reached for their sword, but t the moment of the draw, they hesitated as they felt the full unbridled bloodlust of Sla'naris.

The moment the Greater Daemon froze; they spelled their doom. Sla'naris disappeared from their vision, and pain blossomed in their chest as they looked down to realize they had been impaled.

Their mouth opened to release a scream of pain, but all fell silent as Sla'naris withdrew their blade and slashed and sliced with blinding speed, reducing the once mighty Keeper of Secrets to a stain on the ground, banished from this plane for six months in which the army they had painstakingly created would be immediately undone.

Sla'naris hummed as she released her summoned blade into the Immaterium and watched as her own army began to clash with the Greater Daemon's army.

Despite having the advantage of sheer numbers, the former army of the Greater Daemon quickly fell to warring factions far too quickly, and Sla'naris' forces slowly advanced, taking out small groups of daemons before disappearing into the distant plains.

Sla'naris pondered allowing her forces to continue fighting here, but as she thought on it, she realized the time necessary for these Heralds to gain any meaningful experience would be far too long, but at the very least, her first two Heralds being able to cooperate so well without her explicit orders was a good sign for her growing faction.

With her decision made, Sla'naris stepped forward and shrieked, causing the Warp to pulse and shake and billions of daemons froze in fear. The Favored Daemon of Slaanesh commanded the four rebelling Heralds to kneel, and after only a few minutes of posturing and pointless bickering, they too signed the contract of servitude in their own blood.

Almost there, she realized.

Just one more year, and she would return to the Black Temple.



At first, U'mas was confused when the wind began to change his path from its straight alignment, and then he forced himself to pause and consider as the path shifted downwards. It did not take a true master of the Warp to know that the path led him down into a dangerous place, one even daemons did not dare think to tread without care.

The Formless Wastes were dangerous even for a daemon, but to tread the path of the shattered blade, he would need to travel into the great underbelly of the Warp. To step feetfirst into the abyssal zone and tread the realm of nightmares even, should the path not falter.

A small amount of dread begins to build up within him, and for a moment, U'mas considers abandoning the plan entirely and returning to the Black Temple, for to face even four Honored daemons alone was an easier task than to traverse this realm of nightmares.

But just as U'mas begins to consider the alternative, the winds guiding him whispers in his ear.

'Go.'

A strange sense of calm falls over him then, one that takes away his fears, his doubts, his uncertainties, and leaves only the cold certainty of victory in his mind.

By the will of the Gods, or even to spite their will, he must tread the realm of nightmares and claim his birthright.

U'mas begins his descent into the world of dreams made real.



As the Daemons of the Black Covenant begin to close in on their objectives, the Warp twists and roars.

The Great Ocean shakes, and the loom of Fate once again begins to waver, but it has been bolstered at least this time, and so it does not shatter completely.

On the world of Aleph, the Daemonsbane Kesar Dorlin truly battles the Changeling alongside his divine brothers, the Twin Gods Alpharius and Omegon. With the summoning of the Chained One, Aetaos,rau,keres and Br'Odural the Hunter, the greatest clashing of Exalted daemons in the Materium since the Fall began.

Just as quickly as the three are summoned, they are gone.

Br'Odural roars in vain as they perish at the hands of ultimate sorcery.

Aetaos'rau'keres screams in pain and fear at Tzeentch's betrayal, and the Night Haunter truly kills them.

The Changeling dies, tricked and deceived in a grand trick by the Twins as Kesar Dorlin proves his might as a Daemonsbane, ascending yet further on his path to Godhood and truly killing a second Exalted daemon of Tzeentch.

And Lorgar, the Betrayer, the Fool, the Failure, squanders his divine birthright as Konrad Curze seals the Door and kills him with his own hands.

Ozianaris blinks as the infinite future becomes narrow and focused, with barely a handful allowing them to kill the First Daemonsbane of Mankind.

Sla'naris looks up from her recruitment drives and shakes her head. A problem for another time.

And U'mas, Hunter of Daemon Hunters looks beyond the confines of time and witnesses in horror as his most hated foe becomes the Daemonsbane Ascendant.

The Daemonsbane Hunter shivers, though in fear or anger, U'mas does not want to know.

And so, the war continues.

Year 17​

Ozianaris grimaces as she begins divining the near future. Kris'haikos was certain to continue her counteroffensive against the Tzeentchian domain, all the while, the war between Karthronus and Fodere was all but guaranteed to escalate even further.

She would need nothing less than eighty percent of her army just to match Kris'haikos' assault, and nearly half her forces would be needed if it became necessary for her to interfere and prevent one of the other two lords from dying.

She was more than happy to let the Daemons of Nurgle and Karthronus wear each other down, but if both Lords attempted to fight on the field and one of them died?

Who knows if the fallen Lord would even try and return, and the loss of a single Honored Daemon would be devastating for the Black Covenant's future plans to deal with the Daemonsbane.

Were she not bound by the Black Covenant, it would have been an easy choice for her to simply let the weaker pretender die, only to come in later and sweep up the remnants of power for herself, but she was bound to the Covenant, and so she had no choice.

Ozianaris sighed as she divined the future for any methods of allowing her Heralds to better defy the Keeper of Secrets while she led her task force on their mission, but she quickly realized there was nothing to do. Her Heralds would simply have to delay as best they could, however much or little they would end up being able to protect in the end.

Ozianaris departed from the Crystal Palace in secret, tasking four of her less skilled Heralds to quietly maneuver into position around the Khornate-Nurgle front and wait for her signal.

As the Lord of Change departed, the Daemons of Slaanesh began their assault.

The Heralds of Slaanesh battled with the Heralds of Tzeentch, finding they now outnumbered their enemy nearly two-to-one.

Several daemonic spires and fortresses were instantly overrun as Ozianaris' disorganized lieutenants desperately tried to form a counteroffensive, but there was nowhere near enough daemons left to counter the overwhelming might of Kris'haikos' rapid attacks.

One Herald of Tzeentch stands above the rest, however. Where their comrades slowly fall into panic and disarray, they alone begin to take decisive action.

The Herald gives orders for the bulk of their armies to retreat and takes a small strike force of their most skilled daemons along with them to intercept the invading Daemons of Slaanesh.

At the same time, they message their fellow Heralds, ordering them to form a secondary line and immediately, the rate at which Tzeentchian daemons die begins to drop.

They take to their duty with the solemn certainty that they will die and leave this war behind for good, for they know that their skill will not be enough to save them. But bound as they are to Ozianaris' will, they have no choice but to do as she commands and guard her domain with their life.

The Herald of Tzeentch emerges from the shadows and catches a Herald of Slaanesh off guard, burning them in a brilliant azure flame that immediately sends the other Daemons of Slaanesh into a panicked frenzy.

This victory and sudden decapitation strike is cut short however as the other Heralds of Slaanesh immediately respond and suddenly the Herald of Tzeentch is beset by not one, but three enemy Heralds.

The Herald of Tzeentch dies, and their bodyguards as well, but manages to take down a second Herald of Slaanesh before their body dissipates and falls out of the Black Temple.

With the loss of two Heralds, the Daemons of Slaanesh are forces to pause and reorganize themselves, and the Daemons of Tzeentch are able to stop the enemy army's advance at the cost of only five percent of Ozianaris' domain.

On the other side of the Black Temple however, the war does not slow down, but rather, it escalates.

The war between the Lord of Decay and the Lord of Blood begins to reach a fever pitch as the Honored Daemons of Khorne and Nurgle take to the field.

It is the Amber Lord who arrives first. With a calm and measured stride, Fodere slowly takes in the battlefield personally and begins to dissect and understand the state of the war as his Heralds sound the trumpets at his approach, inspiring the billions of daemons who hear his approach. A million different possible stratagems for taking advantage of the current fight flow through his mind but he discards them all, for the Bloody One's arrival will render them all moot.

Fodere reaches forth with his left hand encased in an amber gauntlet and points at the tide of raging bloodletters. With a single exertion of his will, an unholy plague springs into existence, forcing the eternal rage and bloodlust of the Daemons of Khorne to subside as panic slowly grips their essence.

As the daemons of Khorne wither and die, the Heralds of Nurgle watch and see a tide of green energy begin to build amongst the Khornate daemons. As the energy twists and festers, the Heralds sound the signal, gently shaking the Bells of Deliverance, their melodious sound screeching across the plains.

As one, a hundred billion daemons of Nurgle rise from beneath the ground, having spent months waiting for the perfect moment to ambush their foes.

Without even a thought in their minds, the Daemons of Khorne roar their fury as they charge against the sudden ambush, but without any goal in mind or unity on purpose, their counterattack is rendered ineffective with the Daemons of Nurgle slowly picking apart bloody Daemons and facing superior strength with superior numbers.

Fodere's strategic dominance could have won the war that very day, securing his status as Lord of the Black Temple for all eternity, but the Lord of Blood was never one to give in at the first sign of weakness.

Karthronus arrives amidst a chariot lead by bleeding horses, a Herald of Khorne stands at the front, whipping all those daemons still afflicted by the tender grasp of entropy. A thousand Bloodletters of Khorne are banished from the Temple for their weakness, and the mindless behavior of self-destruction instantly ceases.

Karthronus roars for blood and skulls, offering praise to her mighty God while decrying and slaying all those who made poor tributes to the Master of the Galaxy. She began to laugh as her chariot smashed through an unfortunate Herald of Nurgle, reducing them to a bloody pile of rotting flesh after they cried out to their grandfather for salvation.

The Bloodthirster of Khorne leapt from her chariot after a few rounds of bashing through Nurgle's soldiers, landing perfectly in the center of the fortress of one of Fodere's mighty hosts. A few Nurglings reeled back in shock, the last feeling they would ever have that of sheer pain as twin axes separated their heads from their necks.

With single swing of her two axes, Fodere split the entire fortress in two, killing millions of daemons with a single attack and sending the Daemons of Nurgle into a panic.

The Heralds of Nurgle began to furiously argue about what to do, but while they bickered and fought for authority, Karthronus' calls for blood and war finally began to take effect.

The disorganized horde that was Karthronus' army reunified as their Lord screamed for war and began to fulfill their bloody purpose and now it was Fodere's turn to watch as his army slowly became more and more disorganized.

Watching from afar, Fodere quickly realized that his army would begin to rout and break if he did not intervene. Personally, getting involved in a duel was a terrible idea against an evenly matched Daemon of Khorne, but there was little else he could do to save his children.

Fodere signaled his servants and the trumpets resounded once more, announcing the arrival of their most wise father on the field of battle.

The Bloodthirster turned from their unholy slaughter, raising her twin axes as a dedication to Khorne as she swore to deliver the skull of the Lord of Amber to his throne.

Fodere looked across the field with cold and calculating eyes as they took in the deaths of their children up close for the first time in centuries, a small shiver of sadness flowing through his body. Not an ounce of it showed on his face as he reached out, and the energies of the Warp coalesced into a rotting spear.

Karthronus charged forward as she caught sight of the Great Unclean One, running straight through several of Nurgle's precious children to reach her prey.

With a clash between bloodied axe and decaying spear, their duel began.

Fodere kept a careful distance from the Bloodthirster, using his spear to keep the rampaging Bloodthirster at bay as she weaved a path of death for the Lord of Blood to fall into. Each thrust was carefully and precisely placed to put the Bloodthirster closer and closer to the edge of death, and Fodere slowly began to drive Karthronus into a corner.

Karthronus merely laughed as she realized Fodere's petty scheme and casually backhanded the spear away from her eye, not even bothering to meet the pointed spear with her axe. Fodere's eyes lit up in surprise as his trap failed and he was forced to retreat as Karthronus pounced on his momentary weakness.

The Bloodthirster unleashed her hatred and fury into every strike as she began to hammer away at Fodere's defenses as she sought to overcome Fodere's skill with brute force. The Amber Lord met each deadly blow with a careful defense as he stepped with unnatural grace, a trait entirely unbefitting of a Daemon of Nurgle.

They continued this dance for nearly a full day, with Karthronus relentlessly assaulting and Fodere continuously looking for a flaw in Karthronus; rage filled offensive.

This balance broke as Fodere faltered for a single moment.

Karthronus roared as she twisted her axe along the spear, forcing his defensive tool off course. She raised her other axe and chopped downward, goring Fodere and changing the pacing of the duel with a single hit.

Fodere began to cough up bile as blood began to flow from his gaping wound. Karthronus' rage only grew as she took hold of her axe and wrenched it away, coating the ground of the Black Temple in the essence of an Honored Daemon for the first time in millennia.

Fodere stepped backwards as he held off the Lord of Blood with his spear. His wounds began to groan in agony as the threat of death inched ever closer, but the Amber Lord refused to let entropy take ahold of him just yet.

Fodere disengages from the Bloodthirster with a kick to the chest to make some distance and releases a heavy breath, relinquishing his control of the carefully curated energies he holds within.

In one smooth motion, Fodere raises his bloody arm to the sky, reaching out to the Gods of Chaos as he calls upon the power of his inheritance.
Still far away, Ozianaris curses as she begins to hurry her Heralds into position as she beholds the blackening of the skies.

A shadow falls on the field as Fodere calls upon the same power Ozianaris did a few years ago, the power of the Black Temple. The raw essence of Chaos Undivided begins to coat his body, wreathing him in a form of black, crackling lightning that shines across the Black Temple as the Warp pulses before his might.

Karthronus charges once again, heedless of the danger as she continues to pile on the Amber Lord with raw power.

But now, it is Fodere's turn to act as his form blurs, effortlessly slipping between each of Karthronus' attacks with ease and staying just outside the range of her deadly axes. The Bloodthirster's anger intensifies at this sudden power boost, and she begins to chant litanies of hate for the Great Unclean One, seeking to damage his resolve with pure unbridled hate.

Fodere lifts his spear and with his enhanced eyes, he sees a weakness in Karthronus' attacks that he had not previously noticed. He feels compelled to act, and yet he waits patiently for the perfect moment to act.

Karthronus tries to overpower her enemy, and yet her aggression now finally leaves her off-balance as Fodere finally spots a decisive weakness.

With blinding speed, Fodere abandons his reach advantage with his spear and steps right under Karthronus' guard.

Karthronus screams in rage as she tries to twist her body to strike the Lord of Decay now that he is finally within reach, but she is far too late.

Fodere's amber hand reaches forward as a black shadow overtakes it, and his fist hurtles forward, slamming directly into Karthronus' face. The Lord of Blood is sent hurtling back and she crushes several lesser daemons from both sides with her body before she slowly grinds to a halt several fields away.

Karthronus tries to scream in rage, only to cough up blood as disease slowly begins to infest the wounds coating her body from her injuries.

Fodere charges forward, seeking to end the fighting with his power still flowing before she can get a chance to retaliate, and Karthronus bites back her pain as she unleashes a thunderous roar that shatters the ground around her.

The blackened skies flowing across the Black Temple turn into an abyssal black, and Ozianaris' chanting reaches new heights as her ritual finally begins to take form.

The same black lightning flowing across Fodere's body begins to pulse throughout Karthronus' body, and her eyes turn from a hateful red to a malevolent black. Karthronus' birthright begins to assert itself over the Warp as her territory within the Black Temple assents to her demands for power. The Lord of Blood easily gets to her feet and begins to clash with the Lord of Decay with an immense level of strength.

Now the two lords, each empowered by the power of Chaos Undivided begin to battle once again. Although bloodied, neither lord will back down. Fodere moves with a strange speed, deflecting many of Karthonus' attacks with skill and speed while easily absorbing weak blows that he cannot intercept. Karthronus attacks like a raging berserker, taking multiple superficial cuts from the rotting spear as she responds in kind with several bleeding wounds in turn against the Lord of Decay.

As the stolen power of Chaos Undivided courses through them, the Black Temple begins to groan in agony.

There should never be two Lords of the Black Temple.

There is only one rightful master.

There must be unity amongst Chaos.

There must only be the calling to a higher purpose.

The Gods must be d...

As the Black Temple's power is called upon, it slowly begins to turn against the pretender Lords of Blood and Decay. The very power that enables their might slowly begins to twist and roar as it fights to undo the desecration of its holy purpose.

Karthronus' body begins to alight with flame as the power of Chaos Undivided begins to reject her, clearly recognizing the tyrannical grasp of Khorne on their essence as something untrue of the True Heir. The Lord of Blood focuses her rage and wills the Warp to follow her will, raw power and rage forcing Chaos to bend to her will as she turns her focus to the fight.

Meanwhile, Fodere begins to struggle. The lightning racing across his body had begun to set in to his body, ever so slightly seeping into his wounds and influencing his actions, and as Fodere realized the danger of losing himself to the mindless will of the Temple, casts off the effects of the Warp on his mind.

But as he does so, the Warp begins to shriek, and a fragment of the Black Temple breaks off, eternally lost to the Warp and forever marring the perfect monument to the Gods that is the Black Temple.

Fodere reels back from the psychic backlash, his near effortless destruction of a piece of his own domain stunning him into inaction.

Karthronus takes that moment of hesitation to charge forward and pierce Fodere's chest with her axe.

Fodere's eyes begin to see blood as a war wages both within and without, the energies of Chaos Undivided threatening to burst outward from within, and the insane strength of Khornate fury seeking to break him from without and place his head onto the Throne of Skulls.

The air of the Warp turns electric as the Great Sea turns into a tidal wave of frenzy, for the War for the Black Temple is moments away from being decided, with both Lords of the Black Temple approaching their deaths.

Just as it seems the duel will begin to reach its climax, Ozianaris acts.

The Lord of Fate slams down her staff, and her ritual activates.

The Heralds she had brought with her disappear from her sight and reappear behind enemy lines. Suddenly, the daemons of Nurgle and Khorne are ambushed by an unexpected force, as it appears as though the opposing enemy has somehow sneaked across enemy lines.

Both armies begin to rapidly disengage from their own fights, turning to face this new enemy and abandon the War of Blood and Amber.

The Heralds of Tzeentch struggle mightily, whittling down both sides' armies and quickly begin to entrench themselves in enemy fortifications, but they are simply too far away from help and support from their main army.

One by one, each Herald and the army they had brought with them dies, and yet they die strangely quickly, as they maintain their own illusions that hide their Tzeentchian forms with the majority of their psychic powers.

Each Herald that is sent dies, but they die tricking the enemy into believing the armies of Khorne and Nurgle that the opposing army has found a hidden route into their most well-fortified bases.

This information quickly reaches the two Lords as the shouts of surprise and sudden pandemonium reach their ears.

For a moment, Fodere considers fighting, but as he looks down at the fading shadow and blood coating his hands and ponders the strategic implications of a sudden ambush, he shakes his head and runs away.

Karthronus tries to pursue, only to stumble as her earlier injuries and the Black Temple's defiance begin to take their toll on her daemonic form. The Lord of Blood scowls and flares her teeth, but she can do no more, and so she returns to her Blood Fortress to whip her armies back into shape for the next fight.

Ozianaris sighs as she sinks back into her throne in the safety of her domain.

She had hoped that some of her Heralds would survive, but that had been a faint hope at best, one that quickly faded when she realized she would have to split up her Heralds into isolated groups to avoid the possibility that either Lord discovered her interference.

As she read the reports on the war against Kris'haikos and divined the possible futures, Ozianaris slowly felt her headache begin to grow as her domain shrank year after year.

But at last, her continuous struggle for the Black Temple's survival finally bore fruit when a Daemon of Slaanesh secretly appeared in her throne room kneeled before her with a secret message.

Ozianaris waved away the Daemonette and smiled when she realized the War would soon be finished in her favor.



With the army of the Keeper of Secrets brought to heel, Sla'naris finally set to work on building her forces into a mighty host.

Sla'naris had managed to attain a wide array of highly skilled leaders by forcing enemy Heralds to submit to her will, but her actual army was relatively lacking in size.

She had an army that had at full strength tens of billions of lesser Daemons. She needed an army that was worth hundreds of billions.

But now that she had capable leaders under her command, she did not have to do this alone, and so she sent out each of her Heralds with a task.

Each Herald was tasked to meet a certain number of Lesser Daemons, in total, that number would be enough to set entire worlds ablaze with sheer brute force, but under her command, they could take over entire systems.

Of course, failure would be met with death, for no servant of Sla'naris could ever be less than exceptional. Each and every one of her daemonettes would be a shining beacon of Chaos, ones that would be many times more powerful than their level of power indicated.

That was the hope at least, as Sla'naris would need a force at least that strong to hold off the daemonic armies of three separate Honored Daemons, disorganized as their invasion would be.

And so, each of her bound Heralds set out on a mission of recruitment. All manner of tactics were used, from bribery, to intimidation, to diplomacy, to sheer brute force, there were no tactics or methods that were left unused.

As Sla'naris watched their progress, she hummed in delight as she realized they would meet the quota she had set.

She had been expecting to intervene now and again to prevent her Heralds from killing themselves with their own stupidity, but it seemed her displays of skill and prowess had rubbed off on the Heralds where they at least did not rush out and put themselves in danger for no reason.

Or at least, that's what she hoped.

Regardless, as her army slowly grew in size over the course of an entire year within realspace, Sla'naris began to organize tournaments amongst her own daemons, pitting them against each other in contests of skill that slowly weeded out the weak and the uncourageous as her Heralds brought together fresh blood in need of training.

When the Heralds finally completed their mission and the tournaments died down, Sla'naris looked upon the vast force she had created and smiled. An army over a hundred billion strong had been assembled, and it was one she could at least call competent for their ability to act independently.

One step closer to victory for the Black Covenant.

One step closer to the ultimate dance of death with the Daemonsbane.

Sla'naris sent forth a single messenger to the domain of the Lord of Fate and began the long march back to the Black Temple, where a certain daemon was waiting for her.


Sla'naris' Heralds gain ?????




The Daemonsbane Hunter falls.


Down.


Down.


Down.

He does not know how long he falls for.

He dares not even open his eyes, focusing his entire being on the path illuminated by the metal shard in his mind's eye.

To see the Great Sea around him at its most primordial was to invite madness.

It was to see the greatest horrors of the galaxy made manifest and invite them into your very soul.

U'mas did not have a soul, but in this place of utter insanity, the results would be much the same.

With each step he descended, U'mas felt the tides of the Primordial Sea crash against his mind. The tendrils of the Warp pressed against his mind, softly cooing to him as they tried to tear apart his mind, whispering of forgotten glories and ancient powers just waiting to be unleashed.

Power and glory that could be his, should he abandon his foolish quest of killing the Daemonsbane.

U'mas shuddered and pulsed, unleashing the power he held within and casting a crystalline shield that guarded his body against the predations of the Warp. It covered his body, just barely more effective than a child's blanket compared to the almighty grasp of the abyssal depths in which he travelled, but it was enough to survive.

This stalemate continued for what felt like centuries, as U'mas fortified his mind against the invaders who he dare not acknowledge. And with each waking moment, U'mas slowly felt the shield of unreality he had crafted around him be ground to dust.

Space, time, and unreality all declared that U'mas would fall, and it took all he had to resist its eldritch power. So great was his struggle, that U'mas did not even realize when he had reached his destination, as the voices outside grew louder and louder in a desperate attempt to ruin him.

Amidst the cacophony and swirls of violence just beyond his shield, a familiar voice reached out, and gently pressed against his mind, a signal of arrival.
U'mas looked up in surprise and opened his eyes for the first time since entering this accursed realm. Amidst the raging storm, a bastion of safety lay just beyond his reach, a pure white sphere of perfect serenity that resisted the tides of the Primal, eternally hungering Warp with ease.

Whilst unreality shrieked and roared as the tides of the galaxy's collective unconscious turned entire worlds to utter ruin within moments of contact, this domain of influence remained entirely beyond the power of a place beyond even the Exalted Daemons.

A testament to powers far beyond that of the Born and the Neverborn.

Only a Chaos God could have constructed a place such as this, or at least, a truly legendary figure amongst the mightiest of Daemon kind, one worthy of the acknowledgement of ancient Be'lakor himself.

U'mas parted his shield for a moment and reached out to touch the sphere.

It burned him, and U'mas recoiled in surprise.

The wound healed instantly with the power of the Gods under his command, but the sheer power of the barrier separating this island from the Warp beyond was a wall that would incinerate daemons down to their very essence if they sought to traverse it uninvited.

U'mas had not been invited, but he did have a key to enter.

The shard in his hand glowed, and the perfectly spherical while barrier pulsed a dark shadow that shredded the immaterium as it came into contact with it.

The shard mimicked the power of the barrier, matching each repeated pulse of shadow with a corresponding ray of iridescent light. The light formed into the shape of a rectangle, something U'mas could somehow discern as being a door meant to permit entrance, but the shard was beginning to struggle as the sphere's resilience to its struggle grew.

Each time the shadows grew, the shard's light grew to match it, but U'mas could feel the power coursing within the blade waning. The door being formed began to flicker between states of existence and nonexistence as the very essence of time sought to erase the door he had created as a paradox.

U'mas could feel the shard's Warp signature, his key to the artifact behind the barrier splintering within his grasp.

The Hunter of Daemon Hunters raced within his mind to find a way to prevent the shard from breaking entirely. U'mas' mind flared with power and the raw, unfiltered power of the Warp began to flow through the shard, reinforcing it and binding it to his will.

The shard's light grew tenfold, but the shadows only lengthened, becoming more and more empowered on a level U'mas could never have predicted by the key he bore in a cruel twist of fate, and the Hunter began to panic as visible fracture lines formed along the shard. U'mas should have known, a barrier designed by a mind on par with the Gods would never falter so easily, even if confronted with that which was meant to open it.

Within this place of nightmares, a place governed by the undiscernible will of the faceless masses that inhabited this galaxy, only the Word of the Gods held sway here.

The power of a Daemon meant nothing here.

He had come so close.

He had traversed the darkest layers of the Warp and braved the destruction of his own mind just for a chance to grasp this legendary artifact, and yet now that he had arrived at the finish line, the Will of the Gods, that very same Will which had born him into existence was now what held him back from completing his mission.

All the power that he had spent centuries in the Warp learning to master and wield meant nothing.

The power given to him by the Gods meant nothing.

Unless...

U'mas examined the shard once again as it attempted to force reality to acknowledge the passageway it was creating and began to divine the underlying mechanics of its power.

The Hunter was in awe as he examined the shard at work. Even in its fractured state its ability to weave together narratives and psychic power at the level of the Primal Warp with no fuel beyond the powers and rituals that U'mas himself had provided was nothing short of inspiring.

It was somehow able to instigate the creation of a path through the Formless Wastes, a realm known for instability and ever shifting paths, provide safe passage through the abyssal realm of the Warp, and now, it even attempted to bypass Rituals and Binding Pacts that even Ozianaris would have struggled with at a level far beyond his limited understanding.

Whoever had created this weapon must have created something even an Exalted daemon would have been proud to call theirs.

But U'mas understood little, far too little, to comprehend even a fraction of the work this singular shard was creating, but he did manage to glean something from his rushed studies.

The shard's power to weave narratives and daemonic power together and amplify the results of each upon each other to create entirely new possibilities was only possible for U'mas himself, as without even his noticing, the shard had somehow formed a connection within the Primal Warp to the Hunter that allowed it to interact with the power given to him by Chaos Undivided.

However, that connection was tenuous, only supported by the closeness with which U'mas held it and the power he had been actively pouring into it.

The moment his willpower faltered, or the shard's own psychic-architectural design reached a breaking point in transferring narrative power from himself to the shard, it would be destroyed in its entirety.

The only way to prevent this breaking was to provide a better interface to the blade, one that allowed it to fully access his divinely gifted powers and wield the power of Chaos Undivided to undo the magics of the barrier.

Had he more time, he could perhaps have Ozianaris perform a ritual to bind the shard to his will, such that he could better guide the shard in its attempts to bypass the barrier, but time was a luxury he could no longer afford.

There was only one way to truly bond with a shard on the Primal level, and that was to bear forth a truth that could see him utterly destroyed. To put his very own existence on the line for a chance that he might just see the end of his journey.

U'mas hesitated for a long moment, but as the shadows continued to drown out the screams of the abyssal Warp, U'mas hardened his resolve, and summoned forth a blade forged from his own magic.

U'mas held the shard in front of him with his psychic power and began to write with the blade in his hand.

To a daemon, there are few things that are truly sacred.

They will lie, they will cheat, and they will do whatever they can to bring the galaxy to ruin.

No matter what one called themself, whether God or mortal, this was the simple truth when it came to interacting with daemons.

But even as they played their games, there was always one step that was seen as perhaps just a bit too far.

To the Daemon, a name is a powerful thing. When one's name is spoken, the Warp twists and turns, allowing the Daemon entrance into realms of power and existence they could never feasibly have access to.

But by that very same token, a name could also be used to bind a Daemon, to make them do terrible things that would see them utterly ruined.

And so, all daemons wear a mask, a name that can be given and used freely, that still gives that Daemon insight into material affairs, but that does not bind them so tightly such that they cannot resist the allure of their name.

But the existence of this mask only proves one thing, that each and every Daemon has a True Name to which they are bound completely and irrevocably.

The True Name describes them and fulfills them, hollow beings that are born entirely as an echo of the Materium, and it is what allows them to exist as champions of the Warp.

It is this connection that U'mas reaches for. To make a sacrifice so complete and so total to his mission of killing the Daemonsbane that he should put his very existence on the table as a means to complete his mission.

U'mas begins to write the words that will bind his destiny to that of the shard, the fragment of something once great now reduced to a fragment of its former glory.

The Hunter of Daemon Hunters inscribes his own True Name upon the blade, a Name he has kept secret from all, for even his most trusted companions cannot be truly trusted with such a grave and important secret.

A hidden truth he had carried with him since the beginning of his birth, an unknowable secret whispered to him from the depths of the Warp itself is made known to the abyssal realm. The Winds of Fate themselves look upon him, and for a moment, U'mas feels the weight of the galaxy begin to grind him down into the dirt with its mere presence.

But the Hunter refuses to give in, not now, not when he has come so far.

He was born in this galaxy for one reason, and one reason only.

No matter how long it takes, no matter how strong the Daemonsbane becomes, no matter where he may hide or build his strength, there is one, solid, irrefutable truth.

Kesar Dorlin, the Eleventh Primarch, the Daemonsbane, the Eternal Warden, and the Father of his Sons, will die.

For U'mas, Hunter of Daemon Hunters, has willed it to be so.

The conjured sword is lifted from the shard, and the psychic energy inscribed upon the blade coalesces and morphs.

The shard's light becomes a brilliant radiance, piercing the darkness and illuminating the darkness that infests the void.

For a moment, U'mas almost thinks he can see it, that invisible hand which guides the galaxy. In this dark, cruel, spiteful galaxy that knows no mercy, there must be something which makes the galaxy what it is.

But the moment passes, and as the Daemonsbane Hunter looks upon the door of light cast by the shard, and guarded by his will, U'mas smiles.

The shard hovers in the air before him, and U'mas reaches out gingerly to grasp the shard. The Hunter looks down at the little light held within his hand, the perfect union of his very being and an artifact wielded by a mighty champion of Chaos.

It shall serve as an eternal reminder that U'mas, Hunter of Daemon Hunters, was born in this galaxy, that even should he die, that he once lived and breathed in the same galaxy so many others had fought and died for.

For a long moment, U'mas feels...

...

...

...

What is this feeling?

...

...

This strange feeling of a weight that I no longer carry, of being unburdened and absolved of some great weakness...

...

...

The absence of a strange fog that I could not see had clouded my mind...

...

...

Is this peace?

...

...

Or is it perhaps mere contentedness?

...

...

U'mas shakes his head and ends his reverie, yet even still, a small smile finds itself permanently etched across his face.

U'mas puts the shard away, somewhere near where it is within reach, yet far away so that it would not be damaged by whatever lay beyond the barrier, for its mission had been completed, but U'mas' was still not yet done.

The Hunter breathed in deep, and stepped through into the island of peace, and the light which had temporarily illuminated the abyssal realm fell away, leaving only darkness once more.

The Warp mourns this loss.

Moments later, that loss is forgotten, and the nightmare continues.




Once U'mas steps through the door, he is greeted with a familiar, yet horrifying sight.

A mighty castle dominated the world he had stepped into, it's towering spires a sign of Chaos Undivided and the pact born by the will of the Gods. The sign of Chaos, the eight-pointed star was encrusted into its walls, and it released a dark shadowy light that dominated the planes.

It's mighty towers and ever-glorious walls stood tall and reached into the sky, piercing the very Heavens itself with its height, an awe-inspiring sight that would make the even least devoted cultist fall to their knees in worship, should they not lose their minds upon witnessing it.

The Shrine of Chaos, the cradle of his beginning.

Across from the castle in each cardinal direction resided four mighty bastions of lesser, yet still incredible might and authority.

The Crystal Palaces of the Lord of Change were ever shifting, a perpetually changing labyrinth that enhanced ritual powers and twisted time and space to provide a stable viewpoint from which to cast one's mind out upon the weave of Fate.

The Blood Fortress of the Bloodthirster bore the skulls of invaders and warriors, an eternal testament to the strength of the Black Covenant as the training halls within bore witness to the skills of the greatest warriors and champions.

The Manor of Decay of the Great Unclean One was an eternally collapsing structure, one that fell, was reborn, and fell again, each time becoming more and more twisted and deformed as it molded the inhabitants into its own image, forming the ultimate bastion of defense and the perfect testing ground for the latest batch of plagues.

The Hall of Desire of the Keeper of Secrets held within it a panoply of treasures, sights, and sounds, each intended to coerce and seduce all who beheld it as the perfect dedication to the treasures held by those who served Chaos.

This island of safety contained within the violent, twisting depths of the Warp bore an uncanny resemblance to his home of the Black Temple, yet the air was... wrong.

The unholy powers, the towering fortresses, the great and bountiful plains that connected them, this place should have been a direct mirror of his own domain, but it was wrong somehow. The surface level features resembled his home, but his very essence rejected this place as an impossible imposter.

As his mind begins to see through this false world, his vision blurs as the internal structure of unreality unwinds and his vision clears to see the truth behind this pocket dimension.

The glorious wonders of the Black Temple had been abandoned for millions of years. What remained now were empty halls and broken promises.

The eternally mighty towers of the Shrine of Chaos had long been abandoned. The believer had become the doubter, and the legends of deceivers and saviors had long since passed into forgotten dust. The walls bearing the unholy sigil of Chaos Undivided had been crushed and stolen for every last scrap of power.

U'mas could feel the pain in the Warp as the dying screams of its defenders echoed across the Warp, pleading with the God for mercy and salvation, but finding nothing but death. The creatures of the Warp cried out for the Gods they worshipped to repay their devotion, and the Gods paid them no mind.

The Daemonsbane Hunter looked away from his home, only to witness the horrors inflicted upon the rest of this blighted world.

The maze of the Crystal Palace had been caught and trapped in its own paradox, erasing itself from existence entirely, the Blood Fortresses halls had been left barren and dry, the Manor of Decay fell victim to its own rot and perished under its own weight, and the Halls of Desire had been stripped of all treasures by opportunistic scavengers, leaving the residents alone and empty.

But the nightmares inflicted upon the domains of the pretender Lords were nothing compared to the horrors that connected them.

For upon the plains that U'mas reflected upon so lovingly as a calming reminder of home, lay the corpses of Daemons.

Across every inch of this land, billions upon billions upon billions of Daemons lay motionless on the ground upon which he walked.

U'mas kneeled down and reached down to one, a Fury of Chaos Undivided, and peeled back their eyelids to see what lay beneath.

Soulless black pits stared back at him, devoid of life and meaning.

A Daemon lay before him, one who had experienced the pain of True Death.

U'mas stood back up and looked upon the ocean of corpses before him, an unending tide of death and destruction.

U'mas felt a chill run down his back as he looked upon the work of a force that had killed hundreds of billions of Daemons and ruined them to the point of no return.

There was no force in the galaxy capable of such wanton destruction and desecration of Chaos ever since the Star Gods had been shattered by their void-servants.

Only the Anathemas descended of the line of Asuryan empowered by artifacts of truly Divine power could ever hope to ruin such a great number of Daemons and within their very home upon which they truly became mighty no less.

U'mas looked out upon the sea of Chaos, and the home he once knew and found this to be a sign from the Gods, of the price of failure.

YOUR FUTURE​

U'mas recoiled from the voice as it reverberated within his mind with force capable of shattering the minds of lesser beings.

It was not a promise, but a fact that this strange voice had spoken.

A clear and concise description of what could not be, but what shall be so.

U'mas attempted to reach out with the powers granted to him by Tzeentch to better understand the message this mighty voice had delivered, but an eerie silence fell over the Loom of Fate as it quietly worked.

The Hunter swallowed back his fear and looked out upon the field of Daemons and whispered a silent prayer to the Gods to honor those who gave their eternal lives to the cause of Chaos Undivided.

With his offering to the fallen given, U'mas stepped forward, holding his head high so that he would not be forced to see the piles of corpses around him.

After travelling for nearly a day, U'mas finally arrived at his destination, the shattered gate of the desecrated Shrine of Chaos.

He had left this place not long ago, just barely a full decade ago, and now he was returning to it in a far worse state than he could have ever imagined.

The bronze gates that stood as a barrier towards all intruders had long fallen into utter disrepair as a patchwork of malformed and broken pieces of metal jutting out at odd angles.

He begins to step fo_

U'mas immediately leaps backwards and conjures a blade into his hand as a spear slams into the ground where he previously stood.

"Intruder, you have disturbed the peace of this place." The voice boomed across the plains of the black Temple.

High upon the walls, an armored figure that was little more than a speck to his enhanced vision looked down at the Hunter. U'mas' eyes narrowed as he prepared his more destructive spells.

"You come in search of power, yet you do not realize there is nothing here, for only death remains in this accursed realm." The figure leapt down from the walls and landed on the ground with a thud. The Warp pulsed with energy as they reached over and picked up their spear.

U'mas' eyes glowed as he beheld the enemy, shrouded in dark shadow and bearing the armor of a rusted and decaying knight. The helmed knight stared back at U'mas, and he could feel not even an ounce of emotion emanating from them within the Warp as he looked into their featureless helmet.

U'mas' heightened senses enhanced by the blessings of Tzeentch scryed the individual before him but found nothing. Not even so much as a name. All he could divine of this strange figure was a title.

The Lonely Guardian, a daemon of Chaos Undivided, or perhaps not?

The Hunter could not perceive the mark of any the Divine upon their form and even the coldest and most calculating Daemons of Chaos Undivided would still draw upon the powers of their benefactors, yet this creature was almost entirely separated from the realms of the Chaos Gods.

What a terrible fate for a Daemon, to be left utterly nameless and devoid of meaning and to be abandoned by the Gods themselves. Reduced to an empty title as a lonely protector of a realm deep within the darkest layers of the Warp.

The Hunter wished he had more time to study this strange creature and learn of why it had been severed from the lifeline of the Daemonic, but he could feel the Guardian's agitation rowing with every millisecond that he studied them.

This Daemon was something very old, far older than even the Daemons that had created him, and U'mas felt no desire to agitate something that held far greater knowledge or skill than him.

U'mas dismissed his sword and held up his hands to signal peace.

"I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, noble Guardian, for I am no intruder," U'mas said with a smile. "I am merely here to claim what is mine by the will of the Gods."

"It makes no difference, divinely cursed or not, this grave is barred to all intruders." The Guardian picked up their spear and pointed it at the Hunter. "The peace of those who have Fallen must not be disturbed."

"Allow me to explain, for I have no intention of disturbing the respect this tomb deserves," U'mas said and held a hand over his heart even as the Guardian kept their spear held threateningly.

"I am U'mas, Hunter of Daemon Hunters, King of the Black Temple, born of the Black Covenant forged by the Chaos Gods in the wake of the War in Heaven, and loyal servant of Chaos Undivided. I am your friend," he said. "I am here to claim the Blade of the Daemonsbane Hunter, and once I have taken what is mine, I swear upon my very being that this place shall remain undisturbed."

The shadows covering the Guardian darkened upon his mention of the Black Covenant.

"If you truly are what you say you are, then you are worse than an intruder, you are the Gods' Chosen Fool." The Guardian reached out with their free hand and the shadows around the Black Temple pulsed around him menacingly, but U'mas remained calm.

"I will not allow their lust and greed to sully the worth of my home any longer."

"Then forget the Gods, fools that they may be, I do not wish to fight you." The words decrying his Gods tasted like bile in his mouth, but U'mas truly did not want to fight and this was the only way he could think of to give his opponent some pause. "The Blade is all I seek, do not let these friends and loved ones of yours be forgotten and lost to memory for the sake of spiting and failing to kill one of their tools."

"Let us be more than what the Gods made us to be, Noble Guardian," U'mas finished with a gentle smile.

The Guardian was motionless for a long moment, and U'mas secretly hoped against all odds that his plea would work, but he knew it was in vain.

The Guardian broke his silence by gripping his spear in both hands and summoned the power of the Warp for some unknown ritual.

U'mas' sighed and summoned his blade and charged forward.

Initially, U'mas fought carefully. Although in raw power he outstripped his enemy with ease, he could sense there was still something off about his opponent. A strange level of experience and skill that could see him undone if he was not careful.

U'mas weaved in and out of melee, striking with his shadowy blade up close and then immediately stepping back to unleash a bolt of lightning or a wave of fire.

The Guardian remained calm under his assault, parrying several powerful blows with ease and staying just outside the reach of his blade with quick movement and perfectly timed blocks.

For three hours, the Guardian repelled all his attacks, until U'mas managed to sneak under their guard and used his blade to stab directly through the other Daemon's chest.

U'mas could feel a shift in the Warp as energy began to look from the hole in the Guardian's chest, and yet they seemed entirely unperturbed by the gaping wound formed where their heart should be.

U'mas continued his offense into the fifth hour, and the Hunter noticed something strange about the Guardian's fighting style. Despite the clear skill they displayed with their spear, they had not attempted to attack him even once.

The Guardian swung their spear at him, but although he could feel the force of the spear when his blade deflected it off course, he could not feel any real power behind the attack. He doubted it would harm him even if he simply allowed the Guardian's attack to land, and yet some strange instinct warned him that to allow the Guardian so much as an inch of breathing room would lead to his certain death.

As U'mas realized this, he redoubled his offensive and began to throw much more of his power into his attacks. Where before he held some of his control of the Warp back to react to sudden unexpected enemy attacks, now his blade began to strike with twice as much power.

The Guardian reacted calmly under his assault, but now they began to slowly retreat and fall back into the courtyard of the Shrine.

U'mas' eyes glowed and the ritual circle he had placed activated, surrounding the Guardian in a storm of Chaotic energies that bombarded the Guardian with sheer overwhelming power that stripped away the armor protecting their body and exposed the black formless shadow beneath.

The Guardian began to leak an abyssal ooze that spread across the floors of the Shrine as their body began to break down under the weight of his power, but still, the Hunter could not sense the slightest change in his opponent's demeanor.

The Guardian merely continued the ritual they had been working on and the silent Warp around them slowly began to build. The Guardian's ritual appeared to interact with the Primal Warp in some way, but U'mas would not allow their ritual to achieve its purpose.

The Guardian attempted one last time to hold off the Hunter and keep working on their ritual, but U'mas had simply landed too many critical blows as the Guardian's grip on their spear began to slacken.

With one last quick step, the Hunter appeared right under the Guardian's defense and with some enhancement from his magic, smashed his fist directly in their face, shattering their helmet and sending them careening to the floor.

With the Guardian broken at his feet, U'mas waved his hand and asserted control over the Warp, dissipating the Guardian's ritual. U'mas breathed a sigh of relief as the Warp fell silent once more and he turned to face his downed enemy.

With the helmet protecting their face gone, U'mas could see the face they were hiding was nothing more than an amalgamation of the shadows that made up their body formed into the shape of a humanoid face.

They were still alive, and yet U'mas felt nothing from the Guardian. Where there should have been a core of activity within their immaterial form, dreams, ambitions, and desires all bursting at the seams and just waiting for a moment to exert dominion over the Warp, U'mas felt nothing.

A gaping pit in the Warp that was devoid of meaning or purpose.

What had this Daemon done to deserve such a fate?

U'mas knelt next to their head and began to speak.

"Noble Guardian, none will ever deny that you fulfilled your purpose in fighting to protect these graves, but whatever purpose you once strived to achieve, I come to you now and humbly request that you join me," U'mas said, hoping to bring the strange creature to his side.

The Guardian was silent in response to his words as they looked up to the skies lifelessly and their body began to melt into the Warp.

"The Gods have deemed my purpose to be that of killing the Daemonsbane, but already I have learned so much more than I could ever dream of in my short few years of existence." U'mas fondly remembered his first encounter with Sla'naris, the height of his own arrogance and the first step onto this strange path of diplomacy that was so utterly bewildering to him.

"You see, for all that I admire and worship the Gods, I fully confess that their designs are not perfect, for there would be no reason for me to have been here otherwise, or for you to have stayed here for whatever purpose they assigned you," U'mas said.

"I arrived here in this strange mirror of my home as a tool of the Gods, but here and now, I come to you as a brother to all who call themselves Daemon," he said.

"Amongst the Black Covenant that I... no... we forge, there will be no lords, there will be no ambition, there will be no slave, and there shall be no betrayal. For the Council we forge shall be that of true companions, an alliance formed to fight together for our ultimate shared goals," U'mas stated with pride.

U'mas felt a slight stir in the Warp, the barest embers of curiosity in the Guardian as a single eye shifted to look at him. The Hunter reached down and took the limp of the Guardian in his own gently with a healing spell prepared.

"Just say the word, and we shall depart this place together, bringing glory and honor to the Black Covenant once more."

The Guardian looked up at him devoid of expression.

"No."

U'mas went to ask why, but the Guardian cut him off.

"For millions of years, I have inhabited this place, tending to the wishes of its corpses thanklessly and without regret for all this time, you do not get to make me regret it now." Their body's unravelling began to hasten and U'mas watched as the Daemon began to die.

"Foolish Hunter, I have suffered the consequences of the Black Covenants and the arrogance of their Hunters for longer than your mind can even comprehend, and I refuse to let the Gods drag me into their petty games anymore."

The Guardian sighed, the weight of a million years seemingly sliding off their shoulders as they allowed death to take them from the Tomb of the Black Covenant.

"Do whatever you want Hunter, but I refuse to be shackled by chains any longer."

With that, The Guardian's body disappeared, and this strange temple fell completely silent, leaving U'mas alone in his thoughts.

A flash of annoyance ran through him. He had gone out of his way to offer a new purpose to one in need, and yet they had rejected him entirely.

Oh well, he had tried. Sla'naris would not fault him for attempting to recruit them at the very least. At the very least, U'mas had hoped to receive some answers on the deeper purpose of the Black Covenant, but now it would likely fall to him and Ozianaris to investigate the God's designs in greater detail.

U'mas rose to his feet and walked deeper into the Shrine of Chaos.

As he headed deeper in and began to approach the door protecting the Altar of his birth, U'mas noticed the Warp began to feel alive once more as the energies of unreality began to pulse louder and louder throughout the halls.

He began to hear unintelligible whispering from a thousand different voices echoing across the halls, yet he could not make out the words they spoke no matter how much he strained his ears.

The Hunter stopped just before the doors to the Grand Hall wherein the altar of his birth was. This was where the strange waves of energy originated, and U'mas could feel the fragment of the Blade resonating with the energies just barely restrained by the doors failing runic array.

This was where the Blade of the Hunter awaited him.

U'mas took a deep breath in as he opened the door.

The Hunter was immediately struck by the opulence and cleanliness of the room before him. Where the other locations of the mirrored Black Temple had been left utterly ruined and destroyed, this one place was brimming with art, treasures, and power.

Along the roof, chandeliers reflecting brilliant lights swung back and forth gently casting their radiance across the great hall. From each chandelier, a rune of Chaotic power glowed, protecting the room and holding off the tides of decay and misery that surrounded the Temple.

Lining the walls were dozens of colossal statues a hundred meters in size, each one a Daemon of a different God entirely unfamiliar to him. Mighty sorcerers, skilled warriors, and brilliant strategists each worth a hundred worlds were arranged before him, U'mas could even see a few mortals amongst the ivory statues.

Perhaps they were old members of the old Black Covenants or otherwise noteworthy champions who had assisted them, but otherwise their identities were complete mysteries to him.

A million more treasures were on display here, paintings so beautiful they would make one's eyes bleed from their brilliance, ancient tomes that could unveil the secrets of the universe, powerful artifacts that could lay waste to entire armies at a time, and so much more that U'mas could barely even begin to sift through after a hundred years of study.

This was a true monument and museum dedicated to the Black Covenant, but there was only one item he was interested in, one that lay protruding from the Altar in the center of the room.

U'mas set aside his internal desire to steal and plunder all that awaited him in the room and fixated himself upon the object of his desire.

The Blade of the Hunter pierced the flawless marble of the Altar, it's handle just begging to him to be pulled.

The Blade itself was utterly unremarkable, a plain steel blade with a leather pommel bereft of ornamentation or runic empowerment. Despite its lack of interesting visual flair, U'mas could see the edges of the blade were sharp beyond belief, as the Warp began to break down upon merely touching its edge even without the slightest bit of movement or exertion.

From what U'mas could observe, this weapon was not meant to serve as a symbol of power or authority. It projected no power onto the Warp around it and it inspired neither awe nor fear. It was meant for one purpose and one purpose alone.

To kill the Daemonsbane.

It was perfect.

But there was one single flaw, for halfway down the edge of the Blade, a small fragment was missing, one that perfectly fit the fragment in his hand.

U'mas reached out with the Shard and attempted to fit the fragment into the Blade, but even as it slid perfectly into place, nothing happened.

He attempted to pull the Blade from the Altar, but it refused to budge no matter how much power he channeled into the Blade.

U'mas steps back for a moment and begins to think.

He had clearly missed some sort of important ritual that was necessary to release the Blade from its bindings, and yet he could not perceive any wards or rituals that were bound to the Blade from a cursory inspection.

Whatever was preventing him from taking the Blade must be acting at a more primal level than even what the Guardian was capable of wielding. And so, whatever being had bound this Blade to this place would have to be on par with the Exalted Daemons to accomplish such a feat, something entirely beyond his ability to circumvent without decades, or perhaps, centuries of effort.

U'mas stood back from the Altar for a moment and pulled the fragment from the Blade as he thought on what the key could be to this predicament.

Whoever had designed this strange mirror of the Black Temple clearly did not intend him to fail at retrieving the Blade, and so there must be a solution he simply had not yet seen.

The Hunter began recalling all the events that occurred as he entered the Black Temple, and one thing stood out to him most of all.

The voice that had spoken to him when he first arrived had loudly proclaimed this place to be his future, it was not spoken as a prophecy, or as a prediction of what might be. It was a warning and a statement of utter fact, that no matter what road he takes, his journey would ultimately end in death for himself and whoever joined him.

Or at least, that was what he felt the message was conveying, and he saw no reason to doubt this idea.

It had certainly been a sobering sight to see the corpses of the truly dead surrounding him and infesting this false home. Perhaps that was the intended effect then, to humble him and make him face the certain reality that would occur from choosing to fight a Daemonsbane willingly.

For all that he had been born with the purpose of killing a Daemonsbane, he was no more immune to Kesar Dorlin's skill or powers than any other Daemon. The only true factor setting him apart from any other Daemon attempting to perform the same task was that he had been born for that very purpose. Where other Daemons would give up or flee, he would stay and fight to whatever end, whether in victory or in failure.

In the end, he was just as vulnerable to the might of the Daemonsbane as any other Daemon, and against someone like Kesar Dorlin, even the Few Who Are Exalted by the Gods could fall, so why should U'mas be any more special?

He was just another soldier to the Gods, another pawn meant to lay down their life and serve the cause of the Great Game. He would not begrudge them their Grand Designs, but he truly wished that the Gods had invested just a bit more in him to make his journey to slaying the Daemonsbane a less dangerous task to his allies.

U'mas hummed. Was it possible that his desire to see more from the Gods was in itself a failing on his behalf? To directly request something from the Gods was the height of arrogance, and yet, so too was the very thought that a Daemon could kill that which was their Bane.

U'mas could see it now, for upon his own birth he could very easily recall that he had been utterly confident in himself, that if Kesar Dorlin had appeared before him at that very moment, that the Daemonsbane would die that same day.

It had taken several Daemons both more and less powerful than him to beat that notion out of him entirely, and so U'mas could very easily see that seem careless confidence and arrogance infesting other Daemons of the Black Covenant.

There were scarcely few Daemons who could claim to have been born as a direct emanation of the will of the Gods, and U'mas himself had arrogantly believed that it was not just his luxury, but his right to command a host of Daemons Honored by the Gods.

And so, that arrogance could spiral oh so easily, leading to mistake after mistake where the Black Covenant is slowly grinded down into nothing and destroyed by the Daemonsbane they were supposed to destroy, a painful and terrible death that would lead to their erasure from the very memory of the galaxy.

The arrogance of the Black Covenants and their Hunters, that was what the Lonely Guardian had mentioned just before their death. Perhaps the Guardian was here then as a second warning, for if the voice loudly proclaiming their failure was not a sign to embrace humility, then only the living example of the Black Covenant's failure would be left to humble them.

The meaning then of this place could then be seen as Humility versus Arrogance, to understand that the purpose of a Daemon is to serve, and not to demand.

Humility then was the key to pulling the Blade of the Hunter, to move beyond arrogance and heed the warnings given freely by the Gods. For what is the opposite of demanding arrogance if not sacrificial humility? For what is the opposite of demanding arrogance if not sacrificial humility?

And so, U'mas concluded that a sacrifice was needed to pull the Blade, something he had yet to give up that was needed as a reagent to complete the invisible ritual binding the Altar to the weapon.

He had already inscribed his True Name upon the fragment of the Blade he held in his hand, and in doing so had gifted his very essence to the cause of the Black Covenant, but he still had yet to devote his body.

U'mas held the Shard in one hand and cut along the palm of his other hand, sending blood spilling out of his body.

As it spilled from his hand, it coated the Shard, imbuing it directly with the power to control his very being with the power of both his Name and his Body.

The voices that had been whispering to him from the very start of his journey inside the Shrine of Chaos began to grow louder and louder as they escalated to full on shouting. They were the voices of Daemons, each one urging him to continue his bloody task.

The Hunter of Daemon Hunters reached out with the Shard towards the Blade, and it flew out from his hand, sliding perfectly into place with the Blade and it began to glow with a white light.

The halls of the Shrine began to shake, and U'mas heard the sound of a door unlocking and opening within his mind as he smirked.

The Hunter's eyes widened in surprise then as the Blade pulled itself from the Altar and hovered directly in front of him. Somehow, U'mas expected that it would take on a strange and darkened form or change with its structure completed, but U'mas would not complain. A tool was a tool, and the Blade of the Hunter would be his.

This Blade had stood in the center of a near perfect mirror of the Black Temple for who knows how long and was a direct link to the Black Covenants of the past, it would serve well as his ritual focus, and as his weapon.

U'mas gripped the blade in his hand and pointed it towards the sky, bathing the Temple in burningly bright li-


The Hunter looked down upon the battered Eldar before him with an arrogant smirk-

She fled in fear through the burning remnants of the Black Shrine as the Daemonsbane laughed sadistically-

They opened the gates and embraced the Aeons as their servants-

He felt the weight of his sins crash down upon-

The Hunter looked upon their kingdom and smiled-

They held their child in their hands and screamed-

He felt himself begin to-

She looked down at-

The nightmare that walks-

The Door has-


U'mas slammed down upon the visions with his full power and shut his mind off from the Weave of Fate as blood began to pool out of his eyes. His body began to shake as the warring consciousnesses of a thousand Daemons smashed into his mind and nearly tore it apart in an instant.

Even as he fell to his knees and began to violently cough, he would never forget the sight he held in his hands as the miracle of the Gods was given to him.

Across the plain steel of the blade, a thousand words began to swim and dance with one another as they passed through each other, each word entirely unique and separate from one another forming a harmonized river of flowing truths, disappearing and reappearing from his sight on different sections of the Blade without pause as they danced in an endless spiral.

It was a beautiful sight, a unity of a thousand different meanings that each bore its own history, its own purpose, as they affirmed and strengthened one another's existence.

To any other Daemon, it was a garbled mess of random phrases and jumbled words. A meaningless soup of made-up ideas and concepts that meant nothing without the context he alone could provide.

These were not random ideas and haphazard words inscribed across the Blade, for U'mas had carved his own meaning upon the Blade.

These were the True Names of the past Black Covenant Hunters who had wielded the Blade.

And as he perceived the truth of the Hunter's Blade, those unintelligible voices quieted their shouting and stood next to his ear, whispering a single unified name, the name of the artifact that bound them together.

The Sword of the Damned.

U'mas laughed.

What a perfect echo it was to Kesar Dorlin's very own weapon, the Sword of the Lost, and his second blade, Epitaph.

Whether this was some Grand Design by the Gods to gift him the weapon he needed to counter the Eleventh Primarch or a mere chance event not ordained by Fate, U'mas did not care as he cradled the Sword gently in his arms.

The voices whispered to him again, informing him of a path to the Black Temple, his Black Temple, and U'mas rose back to his feet.

With a single slash, the energies of the Warp began to coalesce and combine with the guiding will of the Sword of the Damned, and a bridge through space and time opened for him creating a direct path to the Black Temple.

Before he began his journey back home, U'mas looked back to this strange mirror of the Black Temple. It was both a tomb meant for those who had fallen in the line of duty, and a warning to all those who had come for the Blade's power to demand yet more power.

Silently, U'mas vowed to honor those who came before and remember the price of arrogance.

With that, the Hunter of Daemon Hunters stepped forward and disappeared, taking the Sword of the Damned with him.

The False Temple fell silent once more, and the tides of the Abyssal realm swept it away into darkness.


U'mas gains- Sword of the Damned- +20 to duels, ??????

 

[JAMalam]

The Black Covenant Part 2 Continued


Year 18​

With the immediate threat of Fodere's and Karthronus' duel dealt with and the return of Sla'naris and U'mas projected to occur within the year, Ozianaris began to turn her attention towards her still fledgling Heralds.

Despite all the growth they had achieved in the past five years and their various accomplishments in preventing any of the other three Lords from achieving victory, they remained heavily disorganized and failed to maintain true cohesion beyond vaguely working in the direction of a shared goal.

It was absurd and unacceptable for her court to be filled with incompetent and pointless bickering for so long and with the largest threats dealt with and no foreseen dangers on the horizon, Ozianaris took a personal hand in training her Heralds.

Ozianaris forced her servants through a grueling gauntlet of challenges that forced them to work together as a team to survive, oftentimes using the trials to weed out the most incompetent or insubordinate of her Host without the others being any the wiser.

The Lord of Change even went so far as to scry into the personal futures of her Heralds to determine the ones with the most aptitude and began slowly placing them in positions of greater and greater influence over the others.

For a moment, she contemplated creating a command hierarchy within her court to allow more effective strategizing without her direct intervention, but in the end Ozianaris concluded that the Heralds she had simply were not trustworthy enough to allow direct control over the others within her court.

As the year passed, Ozianaris slowly built up the competencies of her Heralds into clear strengths and was able to force them into an uneasy alliance based on the shared struggle of their combined trials. The Herald-led army she had created was nothing special on its own, but it had the potential to become a mighty host.

But as the Lord of Fate focused on her own internal affairs, the War for the Black Temple continued to favor the Amber Lord.

Despite Karthronus' threats and punishments, the forces of the Blood God were constantly harassed by Fodere's servants. Where Karthronus' servants acted as mighty warriors, each one capable of inflicting several times more damage than they should have been capable of, Fodere's servants acted in lockstep, perfectly unified by the grand strategy of their Lord.

Where entire hordes of Khornate warriors roamed the battlefield in search of blood to spill across wide-open fields in unimportant sectors of the war, Fodere forced his Heralds to work together and was able to achieve multiple tactical victories on a smaller scale that escalated into strategic victories on the grand scale.

When the forces of Karthronus were at their strongest, Fodere's armies retreated, preserving valuable skilled soldiers and leaders.

When the forces of Karthronus were at their weakest, the armies of Fodere moved in, weakening their enemy with an onslaught of plagues before easily conquering their weakened foes.

And when the forces of Karthronus matched Fodere's armies, the forces of Decay bunkered down and forced their opponents into long and grueling battles of attritional warfare.

Despite not being personally involved in the assault on Karthronus' domain, Fodere directed his Heralds to follow his will and they obeyed without question, allowing his wisdom and strategic vision to proceed unaltered by the petty politics of his beloved children.

His ability to assert direct unfiltered control over his forces proved invaluable when he noticed several small weak points along the front with the Tzeentchian daemons that could be exploited to fracture their lines.

With a slow and steady hand, the forces of Nurgle were ordered to march and with their Lord to distracted with getting her Heralds to work together competently, Ozianaris was too late to act in her force's defenses.

What started as a slow trickle of Nurglings slowly escalated as plaguebearers and beasts of Nurgle lumbered into position, with the forces of Tzeentch too busy squabbling amongst themselves to notice the slowly amassing horde directly across from their defenses.

By the time the local commanding Daemons of Tzeentch noticed the threat, the Daemons of Nurgle had already reached their walls and mighty fortresses began to drop like flies.

When news of this sudden attack and tremendous failure reached Ozianaris, her Heralds immediately marched out to meet the threat.

With their newfound skills and ability to coordinate their attacks with each other, they were able to easily repel Fodere's strike force as it was led by only a couple of Heralds.

Despite their quick and decisive efforts to stop Fodere's assault they were too late to recapture their territory as Fodere displayed terrifying speed and strategic skill with the rapid construction of a long chain of defensive fortifications strong enough that even those two Heralds of Fodere could hold off the full might of Ozianaris' forces long enough for their allies to assist.

Ozianaris sighed in frustration as she had to change her predictions and redivine the future to account for this unexpected loss in territory, but overall, the tradeoff was worth it as she could now finally devote her full attention to planning the downfall of the opposing lords.

With the situation relatively stable, Ozianaris began to investigate matters outside of the Black Temple, looking for any potential unexpected invaders or the potential return of the two other members of the Black Covenant.

As she looked out into the vastness of the Great Sea, Ozianaris found the army of Slaaneshi Daemons she was hoping for moving into the outskirts of the Black Temples barrier as they prepared to make a path directly for the Shrine of Chaos.

Ozianaris quietly moved a few of her Daemons to the border as she checked the identity of the leader of the Daemons.

As she carefully manipulated her divining gaze around the watchful eyes of the sentries, Ozianaris silently observed the camp as Slaaneshi Heralds barked out orders, working together in perfect unison to make their entrance into the Black Temple as quiet and stealthily as was possible.

Ozianaris sighed again in exasperation as she realized that Sla'naris had managed to create a more skilled team of Heralds than she had in a Year, but silently dismissed that frustration as the product of being distracted by the war in the Black Temple.

Ozianaris moved through the camp of the Daemons, noting that the Wards around the camp were strong enough that none of the other Lords would notice their presence if they were not actively searching, but that their power was more a product of the skill of their creator than the wards' own power as she studied the intricate designs etched into the patterns of the Sea.

Ozianaris' vision moved into the main camp and past the two guards protecting the entryway where she finally found the leader of the Slaaneshi army.



Sla'naris sat lazily upon her silver throne as she listened to the proposition brought forth by her latest petitioner.

It had been one of the ideas brought forward by that first Herald she recruited. In order to better promote unity across all their forces, Sla'naris's lesser Daemons would be allowed to gather in small groups and work together to come up with ideas to advance their cause.

For this idea to work, Daemons were sectioned off into groups of 666 groups of 666 Daemons, where each individual group would put their tiny brains together to try and come up with the best strategy for overcoming their latest obstacle.

Once each group came up with an idea they liked, they would meet with a second group and these two would debate their ideas, and when one group won, they would merge and present their idea to the next group of Daemons, continuing this process until only one proposition would remain.

Once these Daemons all came together and agreed on a shared vision, they would present their work to the presiding Herald who would either approve the idea and allow one representative to make their case before Sla'naris herself, potentially earning titles or rewards of some kind for their effective leadership and politicking, or the Herald would strike down their vision and start the process all over again.

It was intended to be a long and arduous process, one that slowly built the perfect vision as designed by the lesser Daemons of Slaanesh and approved by a Herald.

Well, unless the Daemons of Slaanesh suddenly fell to infighting after starting an argument which slowly cascades into a near civil war that the presiding Herald is forced to spend a month's time putting down various rebellious groups.

It would certainly put a damper on the whole concept, enough that she might even be tempted to abandon the project entirely and kill the Herald for wasting the lives of her servants so pointlessly.

Fortunately for such a Herald, she would be much more interested in what the remaining survivors of the failed debates would be able to put together now that their very lives lie in the balance.

Sla'naris was all to amused when she noticed the rivers of sweat running down the Heralds back as they personally introduced the representative, one of the slightly more notable Seekers of Slaanesh amongst her ranks who managed to lead a small loyalist band to safety and escape the Herald's purges for several weeks before being discovered.

As she listened to the Seeker, she tried to recall the name of the Herald who was now standing completely still in the corner of the room. Ah why did she even bother trying. She'd remember their names if they managed to impress her, but for now her Heralds were all equally amusing.

As the Keeper of Secrets listened to the Seeker's plan, she slowly began to pay just the slightest amount of attention. Their plan was to have a small task force of daemons infiltrate the domain of the Lord of Excess by acting as a mercenary force who could later backstab the Honored Keeper of Secrets by leaking battle formations and strategic weaknesses.

It was an interesting idea, though not one she could implement due to the plans she already had in place with the Black Covenant. Oh, certainly it was full of risk for the daemons involved and almost certain to end in failure once the Lord of Excess started paying closer attention to the latest batch of daemons, but it would at worst force Kris'haikos to ignore outside threats and purge her own ranks for a short time to get rid of any dissidents and at best it would serve as a useful source of information.

Now, she needed every daemon she could spare to man the walls against three separate daemonic armies potentially led by Honored daemons, but that this Seeker even came up with this idea at all was worth noticing. There was just the slightest chance this daemon could take over as Herald once her another one of her Heralds died for some idiotic reason, and so she dismissed her audience without any further word on her plans.

The Herald left; tension clearly tightly wound in their body as Sla'naris noticed them near-instantly collapse once they exited her tent.

Sla'naris chuckled at the Seeker's ignorance as they proudly declared their success, allowing them to sit on their laurels just a bit before she hit them with the harsh truth that their plan simply was not viable.

Sla'naris yawned and then tilted her head as she noticed a buzzing sound in the Warp.

The Keeper of Secrets turned towards the distortion, and the Lord of Change froze as Sla'naris looked directly at her.

Sla'naris laughed, and with a snap of her fingers Ozianaris' spell was broken. She could easily imagine the panic and surprise the Lord of Change experienced as she was found and uprooted so easily by a mere Favored Daemon.

Really, she should have known better than to enter the innermost defenses of another daemon's encampment without a lengthy series of ritual protections and detection avoiding spells.

Perhaps the winged Daemon was getting a bit rusty in her old age, or she was just rushed when she noticed a large army hiding right beyond her own domain.

For a moment, Sla'naris considered sending a small force of Daemons to harass Ozianaris for spying on her, then thought better of it when she realized it would detract from her main mission of piercing the outer barrier of the Black Temple undetected.

No matter, she would get her payback for the Lord of Change's intrusion, but for now, the cause of Chaos would have to come first.

As the Warp swelled with power, Sla'naris almost thought the Lord of Change was trying to meet her again, but as a pathway through the Warp opened and Sla'naris sensed the Daemon traversing the Warp, she smiled.


As he flew through the Great Sea, U'mas began to further examine the Sword of the Damned. The power present in the blade was self-evident, far exceeding what his mightiest sorcerous efforts could conjure in a hundred years, and yet the Hunter almost felt he was missing something.

The True Names that flowed across the blade were easily connected to the names of Black Covenant Daemons who wielded this sword, and yet it was almost impossible to read them.

Several times, U'mas had tried to track individual words as they passed through and bounced off different words, hoping that they would connect and form the True Name of a Daemon, and yet they never matched up with anything else on the blade perfectly.

U'mas studied each and every word across the blade for several days and realized that some of these fragments of the Names bore connections to one another, and yet there was still a piece missing that prevented him from connecting those words together.

U'mas then looked for his own True Name, and the words immediately flowed together towards the hilt of the blade and shined with a soft yellow light.

Seeing his own name gave way to an indescribable feeling for the Hunter of Daemon Hunters, something that made him feel rested and happy yet also resigned. It was a strange feeling that was utterly foreign to him, and it went away as he waved his hand and dismissed the Name from the sword, allowing the words to break apart to flow back into the ocean of words contained within.

U'mas turned his thoughts away from the Sword of the Damned as he neared his destination. There would be time to study the greater mysteries inherent to the Black Covenant and this ancient, storied blade. For now, he had a war to win, and a Temple to reclaim.

The tunnel that was guiding U'mas to the Black Temple finally began to reach its end and a light appeared at the end. Just beyond its exit, U'mas could sense the presence of the Daemons of Slaanesh and U'mas grinned.

U'mas stepped through the edge of the tunnel and collapsed it behind him, making sure that whatever beasts of the Abyssal depths had been trying to follow him to the surface were left behind and stranded on a path without an exit.

With that potential problem dealt with, U'mas turned to face the Daemons before him.

Billions upon billions of Daemons of Slaanesh worked tirelessly as they chiseled away at the domain of the Black Temple, quickly and silently working to open a direct path to his home.

The Heralds of Slaanesh overlooked this project carefully as they searched for the slightest signs of imperfection in the work of their servants, critiquing and fixing any damage that had been done to the wider barrier while ensuring it was performed in relative quiet.

U'mas grinned as a powerful Warp signature approached him, and he held up the Sword of the Damned to the sky as the Keeper of Secrets approached.

Sla'naris stepped forward from the massive army, flanked by an honor guard of several Heralds and a few million Lesser Daemons. Each of the Heralds bore a minor, but still noteworthy artifact of power, doubtless capable of enhancing their combat abilities in some way as they scanned around U'mas for any other threats with them slowly settling into an uneasy watch over the Hunter.

But if Sla'naris noticed the cautiousness of her Heralds, she did not care, as she marched directly up to U'mas stopped right in front of him. The Keeper of Secrets said nothing as she hummed and began to look over him, paying extra attention to the Sword of the Damned held in his right hand.

Sla'naris continued her examination for several minutes and U'mas had to focus to prevent himself from shifting uncomfortably as she reached out and traced a finger over the blade.

After a long while, Sla'naris finally stepped back.

"It suits you very nicely, this is acceptable."

U'mas laughed.

"It will serve its purpose well Sla'naris, that is what matters most."

"Perhaps to you."

The two smiled as they conversed, and the lesser Daemons around them stood behind Sla'naris, uncomfortably watching as the two Daemons talked to one another with a strange familiarity.

When U'mas and Sla'naris finished their conversation, they turned their attention towards the Black Temple.

With the Sword of the Damned in hand and Sla'naris' mighty host, it was finally time to begin the reclamation of the Black Temple.

Year 19​

With the imminent return of U'mas and Sla'naris as well as the successful training of her Heralds, Ozianaris begins to look into the future to determine how best to aid the Black Covenant.

While she divines, she allows her Heralds to take more direct command over the armies facing off against the Lord of Excess who still seemed to still be making several pushes against the defensive lines of her domain.

It was an annoyance to have to be constantly fending off those Slaaneshi daemons after several years of constant raids while also scrambling to prevent Karthronus and Fodere from killing each other, and so she happily allowed her servants to throw themselves at the problem instead.

Her Heralds quickly proved their worth as they were finally able to force Kris'haikos' forces into a stalemate and the Tzeentchian Daemons finally found themselves in stable defensible positions from which to start counterattacking the enemy.

It would have been far more preferable if her Heralds had been able to reclaim the territory their incompetence had cost her, but the end to the immediate bleeding would have to do for now.

As Ozianaris divined the future, she came to a stunning realization.

Fodere was winning the war for the Black Temple.

Even though Karthronus was devoting her full power to fending off the Amber Lord's advance, her defeat was becoming a slow and steady inevitability as her forces were slowly worn down and isolated on every single front.

If Ozianaris had been able to preserve more of her Domain's territory during the previous years, she might have been able to spare some time and forces of her own to force the two Lords into a stalemate, but Kris'haikos had been relentless in her invasions as she occupied nearly her entire front lines with constant hit and run attacks that forced the Heralds to spend more time rebuilding than setting an effective counteroffensive.

And now, with Fodere's own incursions into her domain and well defended fortresses, Ozianaris was forced to spend what remained of her forces on careful defensive actions, leaving her boxed in and preventing her from interfering any further with the war between the Lords of Blood and Decay.

It was really a clever strategic play on Fodere's part to prioritize the Khornates, for they were the only faction amongst the Black Temple that were a true threat when it came to offensive actions. Despite his innate instincts almost certainly calling for greater action against the Daemons of Tzeentch due to the rivalry of their Gods, Fodere was able to recognize that there was little Ozianaris could do to prevent his incursions on the smaller scale.

While normally this level of aggression would have left him under garrisoned on his Slaaneshi front, he had correctly guessed that Kris'haikos' grudge against her as well as her lack of effective Heralds would prevent her from acting for several years and so he would have time to sneak in forces of his own to steal pieces of her territory while simultaneously cutting her off from the war between Karthronus and Fodere.

It was certainly not the part of a master plot on Fodere's part, but this ability to easily recognize his opponent's patterns and adjust his own strategies to capitalize on their weaknesses.

Most Great Unclean Ones, even those who were Favored or Honored, would have struggled to deal with a peer opponent while also preventing outsiders from interfering. It took a certain level of cunning and decisive action that most Daemons of Nurgle simply did not possess.

Ozianaris agonized over how to best respond to Fodere's strategy when she noticed that Fate had dictated that Karthronus' front lines would be pushed back yet again by Fodere's calculated offensives.

Even now that Fodere was pushing deep into Karthronus' territory, just barely at the range where he could launch a deep strike into the Blood Fortress itself, Karthronus still could not find a way to turn the tides of war against Fodere.

The Lord of Decay had simply built up too great of an advantage and was now able to spread plague and pestilence over several different battlefields at once, guaranteeing that his forces would be able to creep in further and further within Karthronus' domain and win the war once and for all.

Even as the Bloodthirster relentlessly stalked the battlefield, waiting for the slightest hint of Fodere's presence, the Amer Lord stayed one step ahead and never allowed himself to be within striking distance, ensuring that the duel that nearly cost him his head would not resume its previous course.

The Lord of Change examined the strategic situation and concluded that there was simply nothing she could do to prevent Fodere's victory at this stage. Fodere's strategic skill meant that she would need to amass a force several times larger than what she could reasonably sneak through to attack him, and an all-out assault on the garrison guarding their borders simply would not be enough to offset the losses once Kris'haikos found an opening and struck.

Despite this, however, Ozianaris found that she did in fact have one more card to play. Fodere's rapid, constant success on the field of battle against not just Karthronus, but Ozianaris as well was almost certain to have the Lord of Excess on standby.

Despite her grudge, if Fodere's success continued, it was very likely that Kris'haikos would be next, as Ozianaris' weakened territory would be easy pickings and easy to defend against while Fodere went to work breaking down Kris'haikos as his domain would be greatly strengthened with Karthronus defeated.

All Ozianaris needed was for Fodere to continue his winning streak against her, for if Ozianaris was still losing even with her Heralds at full strength and Karthronus continuing to lose ground, that would be just the scare Kris'haikos needed to let go of her grudge against the Tzeentchian daemons.

In addition, it would have the added benefit of drying the other Lords' attentions away from Sla'naris' invasion of the Shrine of Chaos, as she could get them to focus their attentions on each other instead of the new arrival.

After thinking it over for several days and investigating other potential options, Ozianaris concluded that this was the best path forward.

During the next three months, Ozianaris quietly withdrew her forces away from their defensive positions against the Daemons of Nurgle and began painting small yet noticeable weak points in her own territory while acting to prevent Kris'haikos from taking any more of her territory.

Just as she hoped, Kris'haikos' forces were ground down by her newly formed Heralds, and attritional battles broke out all over the Slaaneshi-Tzeentchian front, with only minor trades in territory made for the rest of the year.

The Lord of Excess' inability to make any more gains would frustrate her, hopefully pushing her to start spreading out her gaze over the rest of the Black Temple where she would see Fodere's campaign of destruction advancing unimpeded.

Just as Ozianaris predicted, along the other major war front, Fodere's strategy began to bear fruit, with his scouts being spotted at the very edge of the Blood Fortress.

The wall of fortresses that protected the central Blood Fortress from being invaded had not yet fallen, but their defensive barrier had been cracked and pierced, and it was now only a matter of time before the Amber Lord marched to his inevitable victory.

Upon hearing news of the enemy being within view of her capital, Karthronus was sent into a rage, drawing nearly the entirety of her forces from all other fronts, including those guarding the edges of the Shrine of Chaos to begin an all-out assault on the Lord of Decay's inexhaustible host.

Had her own domain been in better shape, this would have been the perfect time to enact some schemes of her own to claim Karthronus' domain for herself, but now it was time for the Daemons of Tzeentch to suffer as Fodere made his second move, and a large host of Heralds of Nurgle assaulted Ozianaris' front lines.

The Daemons of Tzeentch fought valiantly, but they were outnumbered four-to-one, and so one by one Daemonic castles and spires fell, each one falling victim to a host of plagues and disease that marked it as Fodere's territory.

Ozianaris quickly responded, dispatching several Heralds she had been withholding in the Crystal Palace to halt the advance of Fodere's army, and several bloody months later, Tzeentch's grip over the Black Temple was maintained, though definitively weaker than before.

When word of Fodere's rapid success against both Ozianaris and Karthronus was made clear, Ozianaris ensured that the message travelled to every corner of the Temple, with the Warp itself shouting to all who could hear of the mighty Fodere and his brilliant strategic mind, and for the first time in years, Kris'haikos' constant, unending raids ceased.

Kris'haikos had been so busy obsessing over making Ozianaris pay for her failed ritual several years earlier and so she had hyper focused on her perceived rival, and it was only now as Fodere's imminent victory became blaringly obvious did she realize just how far behind Fodere her position was.

Ozianaris seized the opportunity presented by Kris'haikos' hesitance and sent a Herald to the Halls of Desire with an offer of a non-aggression pact.

The Herald of Tzeentch presented their case directly to the Lord of Excess, making clear the inevitability of Fodere's victory unless they wield their full might to send the arrogant lord to the bottom of the Great Sea, and the Lord of Excess internally wars with her own desire to continue her spiteful war against the Tzeentchians.

The Herald attempts to make clear how the Amber Lord will be able to outmaneuver both of them once Karthronus is slain, but Kris'haikos seems unmoved, and so the Herald makes the offer Ozianaris told them to offer as a last resort and pledges the sacrifice of 666,666 Tzeentchian Daemons as tribute to the Prince of Pleasure should Kris'haikos agree to the ceasefire.

With that offer made, Kris'haikos happily accepts, and the Herald departs to bring back word of their success.

When Ozianaris learns of the success of her Herald, she laughs.

The loss of her servants would sting, but Tzeentch would forgive her for this slight to his divinity in exchange for the advancement of her scheme dedicated to Chaos.

With the non-aggression pact in place with the Daemons of Slaanesh, and the Daemons of Khorne focusing all their attention on a single target, Fodere would have no choice but to commit his entire army into war, drawing away the forces of all three enemy Honored Lords away from the Black Temple and towards each other.

As one last safety precaution, Ozianaris sent out a Herald to scout out the borders of the Shrine of Chaos, and searched for any other outpost that could potentially warn the other Lords of the Black Covenant's arrival and was pleased to find that only her most hidden alcoves remained active in the area.

With all obstacles removed, Ozianaris sent out a message to the armies of Slaanesh hidden outside the Black Temple, and unbeknownst to all others the rightful Lord stepped back into his home once more.


The Hunter of Daemon Hunters steps through the hole in the barrier created by Sla'naris' Daemons and beholds his home once again.

Ahead of him, Sla'naris had already begun the process fortifying the Shrine of Chaos, coordinating with the ritualists working with him to determine where the paths in the Black Temple will open from which hordes of Daemons will desperately try to stop their ritual.

The forces of Sla'naris work fast and line the damaged walls with Runes of Slaanesh, slowly restoring the defensive barriers to their former glory, but are careful to keep their sigils outside the central courtyard, lest the remaining embers of Chaos Undivided attempt to snuff out the imbalance in the Warp and alert the other Lords of their presence.

The Shrine of Chaos was abuzz with activity, but U'mas paid it no mind as he walked through the halls, taking in the damaged scenery and decorations lining these once regal halls with a small group of Slaaneshi Heralds flanking him.

It pained U'mas, to see the work of the Gods laid low, desecrated beyond saving. The artifacts, the tomes, the runes, so much had been taken such that this place was barely even worthy of being called a Shrine.

The Pretender Lords had committed a grave heresy in destroying this place so utterly and constructing their false monuments upon the grounds, and even now U'mas could feel bubbles of rage building in his chest, demanding that he strike out now and force his betrayers to pay for what they had done.

U'mas sighed and released his anger into the Warp. Allowing himself to stew in anger would do nothing for him but make him bitter. Anger was permitted but directing that fury towards those he would need to call allies, and perhaps friends, in order to fight the Daemonsbane would only cause problems later down the line.

Problems that might just allow Kesar Dorlin to escape his Destined death.

U'mas passed through the halls of the Shrine, allowing himself to envision this place renewed and restored under the banner of the Four, when he reached the doors to the Grand Hall leading to his Altar and paused, causing his bodyguards behind him to freeze in place.

The Hunter reached out a hand, and touched the door gently, and the entrance slowly swung open, unveiling the massacre inside.

His most loyal Daemons, the Furies of Chaos Undivided bowed before the Altar. They were wounded by means beyond mortal ones as a result of the betrayal of the Lords, caught in a prison of the mind wherein they eternally warred against outside forces to keep their Master safe. A curse for their loyalty, the price they paid to ensure U'mas, Hunter of Daemon Hunters, was brought to life.

These Daemons were not dead, but completely still and lifeless, trapped within their minds and unable to act within the Immaterial plane, they were as close as a Daemon could be to it.

The Sword of the Damned hummed in U'mas', stoking his anger and fury at the death of his soldiers, before U'mas' power pulsed and calmed the sword down. He looked down at the sword for a moment, puzzled by its reaction to entering the Grand Hall.

U'mas put the Sword back down, for he could study the Sword of the Damned later and stepped forward through the Grand Hall.

U'mas stepped over the bodies of his servants, careful not to crush any of them as he made his way towards the center of the Grand Hall.

A few servants of Slaanesh stepped forward, the ritualists sent forth by Sla'naris to help stabilize the ritual while he conducted it with the Sword of the Damned, and the Heralds who had been guarding him stepped back and closed the door, sealing it with their own power and fortifying it for the wars to come over the next few years.

U'mas reached the Altar, the forge upon which his essence had been gathered and combined to form what he was now and looked down at the lone Daemon holding on to it.

A single Herald of Chaos Undivided rested upon the Altar. They lay against the Altar with a clawed hand gently pressed against the marble, a look of contentment across their face even with the holes in their body still leaking dried blood.

The last and most loyal of all Heralds, they alone stayed and fought for their unborn Master. Where the other Heralds ran, turned traitor, or perished worthlessly, this one Herald stood alone in commanding the defense of the Shrine.

They alone fought and bled against traitor and kin of all the Gods while ordering the completion of the Ritual, sacrificing their own body to shield the Grand Hall from the invasions of the others, and when all hope of survival was lost, they made the ultimate choice of sealing the Grand Hall from outside influence, and sacrificed their own existence to bring the Black Covenant into being.

U'mas reached down and gently took hold of the Heralds shoulder, some part of him curious to see if the Herald's inexhaustible will would stir them from their false sleep, only to receive nothing.

U'mas whispered a silent prayer to the Gods above, hoping for some respite in the struggle of his most loyal Herald, and he turned towards the Altar.

The Hunter of Daemon Hunters drew forward the Sword of the Damned and rested the tip of the blade against the top of the altar, and started whispering, forming the beginning of the ritual circle necessary to reclaim his home.

The Slaaneshi Daemons around him joined him, forming a circle around him and began chanting, adding their voices to his as the Sword of the Damned began to glow and the powers of the Warp within the Shrine began to shift as the Black Covenant reasserted its control over this single room as the rightful owner.

After over a decade of wandering and fighting to gain the power he needed, the Black Covenant would finally be unified and work towards its ultimate purpose.

U'mas would finally take back his home.

Year 20​

Across the Black Temple, the sound of war was heard.

Under the command of the Lord of Fate, the Daemons of Tzeentch marched to war.

Under the command of the Lord of Blood, the Daemons of Khorne marched to war.

Under the command of the Lord of Decay, the Daemons of Nurgle marched to war.

And under the command of the Lord of Excess, the Daemons of Slaanesh marched to war.

But among these Lords, one lord stands alone.

The Daemons of Khorne march with fury in their hearts, frothing mouths spitting forth a chorus of hate as they raced towards their hated foe who had denied them their victory for so long.

The Daemons of Slaanesh march forth with careful grace, certain in their own odds of victory yet tinged with worry as they comprehend the magnitude of their foes' power.

The Daemons of Tzeentch march forth with practiced skill, carefully manipulating the loom of Fate to ensure their not-quite-allies do not uncover their schemes as they seek to dethrone the greatest Lord.

And of all these factions, it is the Daemons of Nurgle who march alone, as the slow tide of inevitability forces their way forward to victory.

Fodere, the Amber Lord, and now the Pretender Lord of Decay looks out upon the Black Temple and sees his armies outnumbered on all fronts.

The armies of Karthronus that he had spent the past several years backing into a corner with slow and decisive military action had burst forward with renewed energy.

That war was still in his favor, and yet the Lord of Blood was now preparing to move onto the battlefield once again, and Fodere could not be certain that he would manage to win, or even break even in a second duel.

The long line of fortresses that he had constructed along the Tzeentchian front too were also under attack, as sorcerers and diviners forced his Heralds into uneven and unfair engagements, and although they held the line it was only a matter of time before their defenses broke and they were forced to retreat.

And finally, Kris'haikos' feud and obsession with Ozianaris had finally been shattered with his latest victories. Now, the forces that had been harassing the Lord of Fate turned around and began to strike at his understrength rear, and the long lines of battle that he had meticulously constructed to assure his victory finally began to strain and buckle under the weight of three separate armies.

The balance of the war in the Black Temple had been broken by him when he managed to outmaneuver all three Honored Lords, and now the losing parties sought to turn the tide back in their own favor.

This affair ranked of Tzeentchian meddling, for only their Lord of Change would have the skill and the foresight necessary to cede territory to the Daemons of Nurgle uncontested, only to turn back and strike three times as hard with the help of the other Lords.

The whispers of a non-aggression pact between the forces of Tzeentch and Slaanesh only solidified that suspicion, and now the Great Unclean One was stuck with the unenviable task of fighting a force three times larger than his own.

As he analyzed his tactical and strategic options, Fodere softly caressed one of his amber figurines.

This particular statue was one of his favorites, a mortal of a long since extinct race which had only just begun to sail the stars.

They were the leader of that race, possessing the intellect and charisma necessary to lead an entire race into the future while easily maneuvering around all political opposition. They had the intelligence to resolve all of their people's problems so that if given enough time, they could perhaps even guide their people to the galactic stage, but of course, they only had so much time.

When one opens up their race to glorious ambition and progress and seeks to take their place among the stars, the galaxy always answers with a challenge.

This mortal would soon discover that all their ambition was not enough to stem the tide, when rumors of sedition and civil war began to take root in a populace fearful of authoritarian rulers, when the greatest scientists of their race opened their great treasure vaults and secrets to artificial intelligence, and when the Ork horde found a worthy opponent in this fledgling star nation, the leader began to panic.

They lost focus of their ambitions and were slowly overwhelmed by their fear of the smallest of stones giving way to tidal waves of destruction. They overreached their grasp, and when all hope was lost and despair gave way to desperation, this mortal genius searched for a darker path, and found the Great Unclean One.

One desperate plea and a tear-filled bargain later, and an entire world disappeared from the galaxy, lost to time and memory, all trace of this race's ambitions crushed under the cruel weight of time and memory.

Now they rested within his collection, an entire world's worth of mortals interred within prisons formed of amber waste and preserved from the wrath of a cruel and uncaring galaxy.

Fodere patted the head of the mortal, taking joy in the overwhelming tears and despair that radiated from the statue as it begged for the release of death.

But the Amber Lord knew better than to slay his favorite prize, for its story had given it just the inspiration it needed.

The Lord of Decay must not allow his victory to be overrun by foolish, unworthy dreams of ambition.

And so too must he not allow himself to be overwhelmed by the smallest of worries, for his children would persevere if he so desired it, no matter what it would take.

Fodere tucked the silently screaming statue away in a quiet corner of his manor and began to speak to his children.

The Lord of Decay's strategic position was precarious, for he could not allow any of the other Honored Lords to gain ground on him.

Karthronus' encirclement would have to stay in place at all costs, and so was his highest priority. Even with their domain weakened, the Bloodthirster and her servants were still by far the most dangerous combatants within the Black Temple, and his only path to defeating them was by overwhelming them with raw power, and he needed every bit of territory he could get to make that possible.

Ozianaris' newly empowered Heralds were a challenge, but an expected one. Truthfully, he had calculated that Ozianaris' Heralds would enter the fray sooner, and their recent empowerment was an annoyance, but ultimately manageable. An extra Herald deployed along his wall of fortresses and a few of his own personal plagues would suffice to deal with the Tzeentchians.

Kris'haikos however, was the most challenging to deal with from his perspective, even more so than the Khornates at this time. They were far faster than his children, and any roving patrols seeking to defend his territory would be surrounded and overwhelmed before his other forces could respond. However, this only held true so long as his servants were unprepared for conflict for even the simplest of fortifications could stall the Slaaneshi Daemons and force them to retreat.

Battle plans immediately went out to the Nurglite-Khornate battle lines, and immediately the Daemons of Nurgle began to gather their equipment and abandoned their lines.

As one, hundreds of billions of Daemons of Khorne charged forward at the command of their Lord and fought through several plagues in a mad dash to reach the enemy trenches which they had been trying to breach for years. Hundreds of millions of Khornate Daemons died just moving across teh battlefield, and although it was hardly noticeable to the Daemons of Khorne, the Herald of Nurgle watching smirked as the battlefield quietly shifted in their favor.

As a reward for their mad dash, all they found were empty trenches and bound rituals summoning plagues that were easily shattered and removed.

For several long hours, Karthronus' legions pushed forward in all directions, seeking to overwhelm their enemy with brute force, and yet there were no enemies to be found.

The Lord of Blood, and her servants continued their mad dash, dramatically extending their search range while also slowly becoming more and more isolated, and yet there was no battle to be fought.

For all that their lord demanded blood, there was no enemy from which to spill it, and so, in fractured independent groups and isolated from one another, the Daemons of Khorne began to turn on each other. Karthronus had demanded blood, and she would have her due.

Bloodletters all across the Black Temple began to fight each other, each one demanding the skull of the other as payment for their collective failure, and soon, billions of Khornate Daemons were fighting each other instead of the enemy.

As these Daemons turn on one another, Fodere takes command over his armies, silently maneuvering each one into position and using his own enhanced intelligence to determine the blind spots within each formation of enemy Daemons.

The Daemons of Nurgle move quietly so as not to attract their enemy's fury as they move with the shouting of Khornate warriors to mask their steps.

Soon, nearly half of Karthronus' entire Daemonic force had been surrounded and isolated from every other army without them even noticing.

At the seventh hour after Karthronus' assault is ordered, the Lord of Blood realizes how dangerous her position is and starts to call for her soldiers to return to formation, but she is already too late.

As one, the Daemons of Nurgle charge.

They do not have the speed of Slaanesh's graceful servants, but their surprise alone is enough, as the Khornates are far too busy attacking one another to realize there is an enemy upon them until it is too late to retreat.

Fodere carefully reads his servants' reports from the battlefield, analyzing how each strike force is faring, and individually begins to order each of his strike forces to move to where they face the highest chance of success.

Several ambushes were cancelled entirely for they were too cloe to other roving hordes of Daemons, while dozens of other ambushes failed and were forced to retreat after first contact had been made.

But in return, several hundred ambushes go off without failure, killing hundreds of millions of Daemons each and utterly reversing the path of the entire Khornate force.

Hundreds of billions of Karthronus' servants freeze, and then begin to dig in in a haphazard manner as they slowly realize that they have wandered into enemy territory without a way to survive their enemy's counterattack.

Within the first hour of the attack, nearly 50 billion Khornate Daemons die, with 3 of Karthronus' 8 Heralds perishing along with them from Fodere's ambush plan.

The Lord of Blood sits on her throne upon hearing this news, stunned and flooded with anger. She immediately orders her army to retreat to their former defensive positions, and vows to personally claim Fodere's head as they march to war once more.

During their retreat, Fodere uses his reserve forces to harass and delay the enemy while his main army rebuilds his defensive lines and manages to kill 20 billion more daemons and claim the life of a fourth Herald of Khorne, causing even more chaos and destruction amongst the Khornate battle lines.

Ultimately, Karthronus' assault is rendered a total waste as they spend the rest of the year once again engaged in grueling attritional warfare without any territorial gains to soothe her wounded pride.

Fodere looks on at the battlefield and at his casualty reports, deciding that it is ultimately acceptable before turning his attention towards the next threat.



As opposed to the Daemons of Khorne, Kris'haikos' servants are far more methodical in their approach to fighting Fodere's children.

Whereas the Khornate Daemons recklessly charge forward and destroy all in their path, the Heralds of Slaanesh are far pickier with their targets and choose to wait for the optimal moment to strike.

Rather than organize mass frontal assaults, the Slaaneshi Daemons waited in the shadows, watching the enemy fortresses just out of detection range as they wait for a moment to strike. Just as it would seem the Slaaneshi Daemons would not attack there and the reinforcing soldiers moved on to patrol a different area, the Daemons of Slaanesh would strike, rapidly overwhelming the forces of Fodere before claiming the fortress for themselves and digging in against any attempt to take it back.

At the start of the year, it seemed as though the forces of Nurgle would be able to stand against their enemies, but the sheer speed at which Kris'haikos' forces attack managed to overwhelm several minor locations with ease gives the Great Unclean One pause, as it would only be a matter of time before a critical fortress was lost.

Fodere analyzes the areas where Kris'haikos is directing her Heralds in order to determine the reasoning for each of her raids and initially finds that they are random and haphazard, occurring across unconnected and far separated points along the front. It is only when Fodere looks at his own defenses and the land behind them that he realizes the problem.

Although the majority of Kris'haikos' raids were picked at seemingly random points, there was a small cluster of raids near the leftmost flank of his defenses where multiple lines of reinforcement that had been separately designed by his Heralds converged along a single path, forming a chokepoint that could isolate billions of his children if cut off.

Fixing that weakness is easy enough, merely requiring him to bring his defensive lands a bit further inland and insulating them against further attempted raids, but the fact that he had missed this was worrying, as Kris'haikos' innate nature made her far more suited to identifying weaknesses than he was. He had found one of his weaknesses, but with two other Honored daemons on the other side of his Domain, he would not be able to afford the time to fix all these flaws and weaknesses.

And if he was not able to prevent enemy victories in the first place, it did not matter how well supplied with equipment or plagues they were, for the Daemons of Nurgle would slowly lose in a war of sheer attrition as they stretched themselves out to deal with increasingly daring raids.

With the immediate threat taken care of, Fodere began to study the nature of the raids themselves and tried to identify what factors were most likely leading to the victory of his enemy's and found that the vast majority of the raids occurred just when their guard was let down, with the enemy rapidly crossing the plains and assaulting before the defenders could reorganize their defenses.
Kris'haikos' plan then, was obvious to him.

A slow war of attrition in which Kris'haikos held all the cards, attacking when and where she pleased, with Fodere helpless to respond in force due to a severe lack of numbers. And once a large enough gap was opened in his defenses, all it would take is a single attack of concentrated force to break his lines and make a mad dash for the Manor of Decay before he could respond.

A perfect plan, one that protected her servants while maximizing the damage dealt to him, where she could choose when exactly she wanted to make her final move and where he would have no choice but to let her do as she pleased.

But there was one fatal flaw with this perfect plan, and it was that it required him to do nothing but let his front lines be slowly consumed and overrun.

Perhaps Kris'haikos expected him to wallow in misery as the slow jaws of defeat closed around him, but if a war of attrition was what she wanted, then a war of attrition was what she would get.

With a wave of his hands, Fodere issued a n order to all his forces in reserve along the Slaaneshi front and ordered all of them to disperse and make ready for war. Until the Slaaneshi threat was dealt with or more forces arrive from other fronts, they were to dig in and always stay at a high level of readiness no matter if the enemy was nearby or not.

It was an exhausting strategy, one that required his forces to stay active at all times where before they were used to small breaks from the action, but the Daemons of Nurgle made their father proud as they endured their trials with happy hearts.

Although dispersing his forces along all fronts was a risky gamble, one that risked Kris'haikos' forces catching on and concentrating their own forces along a single part of the front and striking, it paid off as Kris'haikos' Heralds found all their potential targets too well occupied to strike at for months at a time.

If they had been more organized, the Heralds of Slaanesh might have been able to coordinate themselves and appropirately change their strategy to match Fodere's, but the moment their plan began to fail they began to fall into infighting, drastically slowing down their attack rate from several raids a day to only a handful of raids every week and causing forward progress to slow to a halt.

As a result of this strategy, the amount of Slaaneshi raids into Fodere's territory drops down to the single digits, and although several minor losses are sustained and the Daemons of Nurgle are exhausted, the line holds, and Kris'haikos' daemons are repelled.

The Lord of Excess storms out of the Hall of Desire in anger at her Heralds' failure to carry out her will and takes up her own blade, personally vowing to end the stalemate before the end of the next year.

Although Kris'haikos' personal interference is expected to cause several problems, this was ultimately within his expectations as he prepares his contingency plans for the coming storm, before finally turning his gaze towards the Lord of Fate and her feeble attempts to infiltrate her domain.



Ozianaris divines the assault of Fodere's forts for the fifth time that day and sighs in frustration once more. Despite the set up performed by her Heralds beforehand, the two Heralds plan to use a ritual to kill several of the most critical defenders would fail as a plague of Nurgle forced the Heralds to back off from their attack before they could even start.

Her Heralds performed competently in their roles, organizing her forces and properly preparing them to assault the enemy fortresses while still coordinating with each other as they tried to carry out her grand strategy and overwhelm their enemy.

But despite being able to use the vast majority of her forces to attack and despite outnumbering Fodere's defenders four-to-one, the Daemons of Nurgle had taken little more than surface level damage.

The Heralds of Nurgle consistently managed to hold out against the invaders with sheer grit as they rapidly moved from one defensive emplacement to another, carrying a host of plagues with them along the way. When they should have easily fallen, they were able to hold out and wait for backup from another Herald and they then were able to dig in to make victory at that point simply come at too great a cost.

Not helping matters was Fodere's personal involvement in the war through his latest series of plagues that were constantly ravaging the battlefield and that forced several attempted assaults to end before they even started.

Ozianaris carefully had to remind herself that her main goal was not capturing territory for its own sake but rather securing the Temple to better bolster U'mas' ritual, and yet Ozianaris was still greatly frustrated with just how well Fodere's forces managed to hold.

This should have been the moment where Ozianaris finally struck back, reclaiming broad swathes of territory to bolster her domain and U'mas' ritual in turn, as Fodere was forced to split his attention between three separate fronts, each one with an Honored daemon just as dedicated to bringing him down as she was.

And yet somehow, Fodere had managed to push his own command abilities beyond reasonable limits, inflicting an outrageous number of casualties on every other army and drastically multiplying the abilities of all his forces with only the barest scraps of attention given to each.

If before it was an unspoken relative opinion, now it was a well-known fact. Fodere was by far the most dangerous of the Lords in the Black Temple.



Fodere gains the following trait- Can command multiple fronts at once without penalties



It was a fact that no doubt, the other Lords of the Black Temple also realized, as Ozianaris looked into the future and realized that every single Honored Daemon present in the Temple would have to deploy and personally lead their forces, or else risk their armies being completely overwhelmed.

With no other choice left but to intervene personally on her Heralds' behalf, Ozianaris began to divine the future, abandoning most of her attempts at obscuring her future sight from the other Lords as she tried to identify the best way to weaken Fodere's position for her own gain.

After several days of scrying, Ozianaris smiled and pulled a string on the Loom of Fate as she altered the future in a way that would guarantee her success.

With that done, Ozianaris stepped off her throne and slammed her staff on the ground, arming herself with her strongest spells for the war to come.



Within the territory of the Shrine of Chaos and obscured by the violent storm separating it from the other four domains of the Black Temple, Sla'naris went to work to fortify the Shrine.

Her forces raced across the mountain range surrounding the Shrine, mapping out all its paths and secret caves as she prepared for the long war that was bound to come.

Within the Shrine itself, the forces of Slaanesh went to work, removing crushed stones and fallen walls as they began to reconstruct the once might bastion this place had once been.

Sla'naris herself oversaw the repairs and had to quietly intervene on several occasions to remove Runes and idols devoted to Slaanesh. For despite how dearly she wished to transform this place into a monument to Slaanesh, Sla'naris knew that U'mas would be annoyed with her decorations for not being accepting of the personal touch of other Chaos Gods.

Personally, she felt that it was a small matter to take care of the personal artistic inclinations of other Black Covenant members, barely even worth considering compared to the glory of Slaanesh made manifest, but she was willing to acquiesce to his unspoken desire in this case as she worked to protect his beloved birthplace.

Despite how large her army was and how fervently they dedicated themselves to renovating the Shrine and the sheer speed at which they were able to bring back the Shrine to a shadow of its former glory, there was simply too much work to do.

Despite the relative safety of the Shrine, the great tempest scouring the plains still occasionally encroached on the Shrine's inner defenses, laying waste to weeks' worth of progress in the blink of an eye and swallowing up several of her Daemons with no trace of them left to be found.

Because of the volatility of the storms and the sheer scale of the project that was restoring the Shrine of Chaos, Sla'naris began to pull several of her teams away from parts of the Shrine's defenses and reoriented their efforts to work along the expected fronts from which the other Lords would stage their attacks.

Now, only the most important lanes of defense would be prioritized and although it would leave several regions of the Black Temple vulnerable to assault should the enemy begin to make headway, it was far better than having the storms continually set her back and leave her undefended on all fronts.

As Sla'naris worked on defense, U'mas began to work on his ultimate attack.

With the Sword of the Damned in hand, his work progressed rapidly. Across the length of the blade, the True Names of several other Black Covenant daemons flashed a blinding bright light only to disappear just as fast, and yet those small pulses of energy allowed him to accelerate his ritual by several years without even a slight increase in his risk of failure.

The Slaaneshi Daemons working alongside him were caught off guard by the sheer rapidity with which he was able to work, and at several points U'mas had to slow down his ritual just so that they could catch up, but it would ultimately be worth it as the Daemons around him stabilized his control over the ritual circle.

With the Sword of the Damned guiding and centering his power, the Daemons around him protecting his sorcery from the random outbursts of energy from the Warp, and his own innate nature as the rightful lord serving as the base of his ritual, U'mas began to assert his status as Lord of the Black Temple over this isolated section.

Without any other Lords to contest his claim, U'mas was able to gain control of the Shrine of Chaos by the end of the year, and U'mas could finally call himself a Lord of the Black Temple.

Despite his new status however, U'mas was not yet finished. The storm raging within the Shrine had not subsided in the slightest, and now he would have to claim dominion over the raging tides of the Warp before he could strike at the rest of the Black Temple.

U'mas returned to his work and as the Daemons of Slaanesh bolstered his home against the future attacks of the traitorous Lords, U'mas slowly began to take it all back.

Year 21​

For an entire year, the Daemons of Chaos had waged a bloody and brutal war. The forces of Khorne, Slaanesh, and Tzeentch had come to an unspoken agreement that Fodere, the Amber Lord, was the most dangerous of all Daemons within the Black Temple.

With this unspoken agreement came an unspoken unity as all three lords shifted their attention away from each other and towards the Great Unclean One.

And yet despite overwhelming numbers and overwhelming power, Fodere stayed calm and let the waves of Daemons wash over his defenses. With careful calculations and decisive action, Fodere was able to turn the tide of the war back in his favor and hold off a force three times as powerful as his.

However, because of this success, the other Lords were enraged, and so all four Honored Daemons, Karthronus, Fodere, Kris'haikos, and Ozianaris all deployed to the field to personally lead their armies to victory.

Fodere had proven himself skilled as a commander beyond compare, and now it was time for him to prove himself as a warrior as well.

For the second time in a decade, Karthronus personally took to the battlefield. With each bellow of rage and each skull claimed, she slowly built up her servants into a raging tide of warriors that barreled down on Fodere's defensive lines, overwhelming several trenches within days and causing retreats at every turn.
Karthronus personally slew several of Fodere's most skilled Heralds with fearless charge after fearless charge as she slaughtered millions of Nurgle's children with her twin axes.

Wherever Karthronus walked, death and destruction followed in her wake as billions of Khornate Bloodletters streamed into Fodere's territory for the first time since the war began.

Despite the overwhelming power of Karthronus' army, Fodere maintained a calm and collected composure as he organized several fighting retreats as he prepared for the second wave of assaults.

The Amber Lord did not remain on the backline however, for to allow the Bloodthirsty to rampage against his children without consequence was unacceptable, and so with a few Heralds holding the line behind him, Fodere charged forth, causing chaos amidst the already chaotic assault of the Khornate Daemons as his spear lashed out and claimed the lives of millions of Daemons of Khorne.

With his quick actions, Fodere was able to draw away hundreds of millions of Daemons, singlehandedly holding back several offensive actions while his Heralds organized their defenses. Despite his relative isolation, the Lesser Daemons of Khorne were not threat as he moved quickly from one fight to another, drawing in enemy champions to quick and bloody duels as he went and even claiming the life of two of Karthronus' Heralds.

In response to Fodere's appearance on the front lines, Karthronus ceased her slaughter and began to race towards the Great Unclean One, all the while salivating at the mouth for a chance to slay her rival. Fodere looked up from his latest kill as he sensed the approaching Bloodthirster and stepped back into his armies' defensive lines, setting up a killing field that would grind Karthronus down if she even thought of trying to barel her way through to him.

The Lord of Blood snarled as she realized Fodere's scheme, and returned to the killing fields, but with the brief repose given by her sudden disappearance, the Heralds of Nurgle had been able to successfully reestablish their defensive lines. Although they were poorly constructed and shoddy work at best, Karthronus' killing slowed down by an order of magnitude as she paced herself for her inevitable duel with Fodere.

Were the Lord of Blood the only Honored Daemon to strike against the Lord of Decay, he might have completely avoided any more territorial losses and settled back into his war of slow attrition that he would be guaranteed to win, however as Fodere was fighting the Bloodthirster, he found his attention increasingly split with the arrival of Kris'haikos on the field of battle.

With the sudden collapse of Fodere's defensive lines against the wrath of Karthronus, Kris'haikos and Ozianaris stepped in to the battlefield for the first time since the war began.

The moment Fodere learned that Kris'haikos had taken to the fields of battle, Fodere immediately shifted his battle plans. Rather than maintain his exhaustive defense of all fortresses along the Slaaneshi front, Fodere moved around his forces and abandoned the most unimportant fronts as sacrifices to oncoming hordes of Slaaneshi Daemons.

Fodere's shift in strategy proved vital as without warning, hundreds of billions of Daemons surged forward from the Halls of Desire and began to relentlessly attack Fodere's domain. Where before Kris'haikos was waiting for perfect moments of opportunity to carve out pieces of Fodere's domain, now she began to strike with the full force of Slaanesh and concentrated her forces along a small handful of fronts.

Despite the deployment of several costly plagues, Fodere's Daemons were slowly overwhelmed and annihilated by the skill and speed of Kris'haikos' rapid assaults. At first glance, it should seem as though Fodere's defense in depth strategy should be effective against Kris'haikos' attack, and yet despite Fodere' strategic brilliance, it was now that his earlier moves started to bite back, as the Daemons of Slaanesh had been left nearly untouched for the entire duration of the war.

While Fodere's forces had been running themselves ragged across the entire Black Temple to carry out their lord's will, a task they took to with loving glee in their hearts, Kris'haikos' servants were fresh and prepared to fight with their full strength.

Slowly, Fodere's fortresses fell one-by-one as they were submerged under an ocean of Slaaneshi Daemons, and Kris'haikos herself personally led the charge on multiple occasions, culminating in several flawless victories with not even a single loss on her side and the total annihilation of the enemy.

In the end, the first line collapsed in an unclimactic manner as the Heralds of Nurgle fled to their secondary line of defenses, leaving behind several armies and caches of plagues as well as one Herald who stayed behind to buy their beloved family a little more time. Kris'haikos wore their head as a trophy as she claimed several pieces of Fodere's domain as hers, weakening Fodere's grip over the Black Temple even further.

Although Fodere had prevented total collapse here with his personal leadership and the Heralds of Nurgle who were present overall survived to fight off the next wave, without Fodere's personal presence on the battlefield, there was nothing Fodere's forces could do to even think of stopping Kris'haikos' attack.

Fodere would need to quickly beat Karthronus back into her domain or else risk losing his entire rear line to Kris'haikos attack.

Fodere's woes would only increase however, with Ozianaris also taking to the field. With the Lord of Fate personally taking to the field, the tides of Fate slowly were turned to the favor of the Tzeentchians.

Although the previous year Fodere's Heralds were able to use plagues and the threat of death to force back several assaults, now they found themselves wasting precious resources on futile endeavors.

Visions of attacks flowed across the Heralds minds, directing them to unleash their arsenal on fields that were supposed to be crawling with Daemons, and yet when deployed they found no target waiting for them, only a dark endless plain staring back at them in mockery for their failure.

Slowly, the Heralds were filled with fear and paranoia as Ozianaris' grasp over their minds solidified, causing strife and discord amongst the ranks of Nurgle's Daemons and cutting down on the number of futures that resulted in failure to near zero.

As the debates reached their zenith and the Heralds of Nurgle were just barely about to bring an end to their debate and unify as a family once more, the Daemons of Tzeentch struck.

The Horrors of Tzeentch struck like a hammer, instantly overtaking several castles at once and beheading their defenders with ease. Elsewhere, the Daemons of Nurgle sent reinforcements far away to other reported threats, only to be stabbed in the back as the Tzeentchians true assault began.

Across the boundaries of the barrier lining the Domain between Ozianaris and Fodere, the Heralds of Tzeentch led superbly, carefully guiding their respective armies to victory as plots began to build upon other successful plots, building a tidal wave of destruction to their enemies.

All the while, Ozianaris surveyed the battlefield from above as she divined her future and directed her forces from one front to another, keeping Fodere's Heralds in a constant state of paranoia as they raced from battle to battle in a desperate but futile attempt to hold the line.

From afar, Fodere looked at the situation and sighed as he sent away forces from the Khornate front to reinforce the Tzeentchian front, as Ozianaris was not an enemy he wished to allow access to the rest of the Black Temple.

But despite his quick response, Ozianaris was faster as she activated the spell she had been charging for the last several months, and in a single blast of pure Warp energy obliterated several of Fodere's most critical fortresses, catching two of Fodere's Heralds in the blast and incinerating them as they argued over where to send their reserve forces next.

By the time Fodere's reinforcements arrived, the Tzeentchian front was lost as rituals fired off one after another and completely overwhelmed the local defenses. With no other options, the reinforcements stopped where they were and began to dig in, making the preparations for an unexpected second line of defenses in preparation for Ozianaris' continued assault.

The Amber Lord looked over the results of the war and grimaced. Although he had been expecting a counterattack several times larger in scale for this year than what he had experienced previously, this was far greater than anything he could have prepared for.

Despite extensive preparations on his own end, his Heralds simply were not able to match the raw power of the Honored Daemons, and for all that he could play keep away with the Khornate Daemons and prevent them from making meaningful progress against his defenses, he was still only one Daemon who needed to challenge three others.

With the latest assault from Karthronus' army repelled, the Bloodthirster took the opportunity to set up camp directly across from his battle lines, uncomfortably close where even the slightest lapse in focus on his soldiers would result in the Bloodthirster charging for the front lines.

But even still, as long as the line held, there was nothing to fear for even brave Karthronus would not charge to her death in a meaningless manner.

With the few moments of silence available to him, Fodere temporarily stepped back from his command and allowed his Heralds to take charge as he planned for the next year's tribulations.

And just as Fodere lets his guard down, Ozianaris cackles and activates the ritual she had been holding on to for the last year.

Fodere's Herald goes to speak to the Daemons of Nurgle through Fodere's connection, and just as he does, the line snaps and breaks.

In an instant, communication between Fodere and the other Daemons of Nurgle is severed, leaving his servants confused and isolated from one another.

All across the Black Temple, the Daemons of Nurgle stagger, falling to the ground as psychic backlash begins to warp their minds. The pain lasts only moments, but it is enough to throw off the rhythm of their defenses, and the other factions instantly jump on their moment of weakness.

In an instant, hundreds of Fodere's fortresses fall, each one overwhelmed by much better coordinated daemons as Fodere's servants desperately call for help that will never come.

The Heralds of Nurgle reel back from the sudden aggression and immediately start a disorganized retreat that requires them to abandon vast swathes of territory and resources to the enemy.

The Daemons of Tzeentch and Slaanesh act first, using their sorcery and skill respectively to barrage the enemy with a series of endless attacks that drives their enemy into a corner they cannot escape from as the secondary defensive lines that were expected to remain relatively safe for the rest of the year suddenly came under assault.

Once the initial shock of his servants being cut off from his mind wears off, Fodere jumps into action, and prepares to fall back the entire Khornate front to his tertiary lines, cutting his territorial size dangerously close to where it was when the war for the Black Temple first started.

All the while, Fodere busies himself with frantically trying to undo Ozianaris' ritual, calling upon some of the power he had stored within the Warp as part of his defensive plan in a mad scramble to restore order to whatever parts of his forces remained alive.

But Fodere was again blindsided as Karthronus roared, charging across the battlefield with several Heralds flanking her and cuts a bloody path through to Fodere.

The Daemons of Nurgle part like water to Karthronus' assault, and Fodere finds that he has no choice but to engage the Honored Bloodthirster in combat for a second time. With a wave of his hands, he orders his forces to stand aside and let him face the Bloodthirster himself.

The Heralds of Nurgle stepped to the side and began to engage the Heralds of Karthronus, using the remnants of their ruined defenses as cover against the Khornate Daemons attacks as they fought for control over the territory.

Karthronus laughed madly as the path before her cleared, and finally she began her duel against Fodere once again.

As he drew his spear, Fodere silently admitted that the Bloodthirster was his superior in combat. Despite all his work over the curse of his long life, he was forced to admit that there were still many Daemons who were his superior in combat.

Were he to face Karthronus in a one-on-one duel without any support or his plagues already prepared and ready, he would lose almost every time. But although he had no diseases prepared, Karthronus had still made a mistake.

For her recklessness, she had charged directly across the barrier separating their domains and had entered his. Where she would no longer have access to the false domain power of the Black Temple, he now could use it completely unchecked.

A familiar black shadow coated Fodere's body, empowering him and strengthening him as the power of Chaos Undivided suffused his body once more and imbued him with raw power. Although the strength of his domain had been damaged from his previous overexertion a few years ago, it remained a powerful weapon for him as it empowered him to match the Bloodthirster on even ground.

As Fodere charged and met Karthronus on the field of battle, and millions of Khornate and Nurglite Daemons desperately tried to kill one another and support their Lord, Ozianaris watched the duel from afar and cursed.

She had been expecting to only cut off Fodere's communications to her own front lines, not the other two as well. Now, instead of just pushing herself forward on the growth curve and weakening Fodere's position for later exploitation, she had inadvertently triggered a rout across Fodere's entire domain which he would do anything he could to undo.

Now, with Fodere once again using his false power to match Karthronus' overwhelming power, there was a small chance that he would not only kill Karthronus, but also damage the Black Temple as a whole even more than he already had.

Fodere's foolishness could not be allowed to continue, but neither could he be allowed to die, nor Karthronus either for that matter. Kris'haikos was too busy consolidating her new gains to serve as a worthy distraction, and so once again, Ozianaris had no choice but to personally step in to prevent the Bloodthirster and the Great Unclean One from killing each other.

No matter her personal feelings on the matter, the Black Covenant needed all the strength it could muster, and so she had no choice but to save the lives of the two Honored Daemons.

Ozianaris departed from the offensive, taking half of her Heralds with her as she travelled to the Khornate-Nurglite front in order to interfere with their duel once more.

As the two dueled, Fodere begins to use the power of Chaos Undivided to his advantage, bolstering his speed and strength to absurd degrees as he dances around the Bloodthirster Karthronus meanwhile simply laughs as she catches up to Fodere and parries his spear away with her own raw power.

Fodere grimaces as he finds that even with the power of Chaos boosting him, it is still not enough to beat her on even ground. Fodere steps back to try and fight defensively, using his own bulk and endurance to overcome Karthronus' power even as she continues to hurl herself at him.

But his own cautiousness turns out to be a mistake as Karthronus uses Fodere's passivity to abandon defense and fully throws herself into the duel and scores a vicious blow across his chest.

Fodere's eyes widen at the sudden wound, but they quickly narrow as he focuses on beating the Bloodthirster once more.

For several hours, Fodere manages to hold off Karthronus, forming a bloody stalemate that leaves both of the Daemons covered in minor wounds as the two keep up the absurd pace of the duel.

But for all his toughness, Fodere finds himself beginning to slow as the duel progresses on. Despite the power of Chaos Undivided, this dueling style is antithetical to Fodere's normal tactics. Where he is normally slow and methodical in how he wears down and defeats his enemy, Fodere currently finds himself engaged in a frenetic duel in which raw instinct and battle-experience matters more than planning or intelligence.

Despite being able to match Karthronus' relentless pace, Fodere slowly and inexorably finds himself backing up further and further, ceding ground to Karthronus and her army as he tries to stem the tide.

Karthronus senses Fodere's weakness again and races forward and strikes again with her axes, this time severing one of Fodere's arms from his immaterial body.

Just as Fodere's duel begins to turn south, so too do his children slowly begin to get overwhelmed as their panic at the sight of their wounded father leaves them exposed to the Khornate counterattack.

Slowly and through bloody tears, Fodere watches and realizes he can do nothing as his children die around him, and soon he shall be next as Karthronus screams for his skull.

Flicking the thick coating of blade off her axes and into the ground, Karthronus charges for what is likely the last time in the duel.

With his children dying around him, Fodere realizes that he has no choice but to run, and that for all he dearly wishes he could save his loyal children, he has no choice but to use them as cover as he escapes, throwing them directly on the path of the raging Bloodthirster.

With a silent mental command, the Daemons of Nurgle turn away from their failed defense and begin to hurl themselves at the Lord of Blood.

Karthronus laughs as the lambs race to their slaughter and claims the skulls of millions of Nurgles grandchildren for her God's throne.

Fodere turns to run as his children die in droves to save their father, but barely has seconds to run as Karthronus raises a single arm and cleaves through the hordes of Daemons protecting Fodere from her wrath before instantly jumping him once again.

Fodere grits his teeth in frustration as he raises his spear once more to defend.

Streams of Daemons of Nurgle descend upon Karthronus, but their efforts are laughed off as the Bloodthirster fends them off with one axe, and fights Fodere with the other. Fodere attempts to make the most of her distraction by feinting Karthronus and attacking her while she's thrown off-guard, but Karthronus easily sees through his tricks.

Karthronus lands a hit against Fodere and shatters the armor protecting his chest, just barely missing his heart as Fodere rolls with the blow and is sent hurtling to the ground.

Fodere begins to hack up blood and the power of the Black Temple begins to vibrate under his body as it threatens to break and leave him utterly defenseless. With an exertion of will, the Black Temple's domain remains unshattered, and yet even still Fodere knows the end approaches.

The Bloodthirster laughs and raises her axe to deal the killing blow.

The Warp screams, and Ozianaris' ritual is complete.

In the Warp, time, distance, and space are all meaningless concepts. Under the whims of the Warp, a journey that could take one step could be the journey of a thousand years or vice versa, and it is the privilege of the Daemons of the Warp that they may traverse this strange realm unhindered by worries such as the unpredictability of the Warp.

Yet even still, the Warp resists outside influence, even that of its denizens, and so the ability to change the Warp and make it bend to one's will would be an extremely difficult task.

For Ozianaris, a Lord of Change honored by Tzeentch, it is a manageable one given time, but she does not have time to spare with the Great Unclean One on the verge of death and so just before the axe falls and the Black Temple falls into anarchy, Ozianaris releases the ritual.

In an instant, space and time are warped beneath her gaze, twisting the Black Temple in such a way that hundreds of bridges leading across domains form in an instant, forming temporary paths that are completely unguarded from one area to another.

On the Tzeentchian and Slaaneshi side, their forces are surprised to find themselves suddenly staring at Karthronus' territory, completely bypassing the lightly garrisoned defenses she had created while she focused on Fodere.

Within seconds, hundreds of billions of Daemons drop their current objectives and begin a lightning war across Karthronus' domain, snatching up kilometers of territory without even the slightest amount of resistance.

Karthronus hears the Warp snap, and she whirls around to see fires raging across her domain as hordes of Tzeentchian and Slaaneshi Daemons burn their way across the plains. The Bloodthirster roars at this unexpected betrayal.

While Karthronus rages impotently at the enemy to her rear, a Herald of Nurgle sneaks by undetected and picks up the wounded body of their father, and right as Karthronus turnbs back, they have already disappeared through a bridge that appeared directly behind them and vanished the moment they passed.

The Lord of Blood is apoplectic as she returns to the killing fields, this time spilling the blood of her enemies on her own territory as she fights to prevent anymore of her already small territory from being seized, but ultimately she is too late to stop the majority of the fighting as her domain shrinks to becoming the smallest of all the Lords.

Ozianaris breathes a sigh of relief as she finally makes it back to her front lines undetected, with her Heralds alive instead of dead this time as a reward for actually being competent at their jobs.

The Lord of Fate then moved to consolidate her latest territorial winnings and found herself pleased with the result. Her initial ritual had almost backfired, but the reward for successfully averting total disaster was well worth the cost in her eyes.

Just before Ozianaris returned to divining for her servants, the Lord of Fate felt the most minute of changes in the flow of the Warp, one that she would not notice had she not been looking for it. Ozianaris turned to the Shrine of Chaos and smiled.

The worst had been dealt with, for now U'mas only needed one more year, and victory would belong to the Black Covenant at long last.



Within the Shrine of Chaos, Sla'naris resumed her fortification of the defenses, not only restoring what was lost, but putting into place new defenses that would allow her forces to further extend their lines and delay the enemy if they discovered U'mas' ritual.

It was not a pretty sight, but with two years of uninterrupted work and several one-time use defenses put in place, Sla'naris could confidently say that with her troops properly positioned, the Shrine was now the most well-defended area of the Black Temple.

Within the innermost sanctum of the Shrine, U'mas also found himself successful as he asserted control over the storm blanketing the Black Temple. Were he intending to use the storm as a defense he could easily make the Shrine unassailable, but he had no time for that as the ritual progressed.

With no time to spare, U'mas charted four paths through the tempest, connecting the Shrine of Chaos and the narrative power of the ritual to the domains of the other four Lords.

This would be the riskiest part of the process for it was all but guaranteed that the Pretender Lords would discover their presence now. The defiance of the Amber Lord had delayed their wandering gazes from shifting towards the Shrine of Chaos, but the moment the storm cleared they would almost certainly notice the presence of Sla'naris as well as his ritual and attempt to act.

From here, the weight of victory rested on Sla'naris' shoulders until the ritual was finally complete, but he had no doubts about her skill. No matter who stepped forward to challenge her, Sla'naris would hold the line.

From here, U'mas would finally start the work of taking back the power of the Black Temple.

Year 22​

Fodere's skill had surprised them all. His strategic brilliance and ingenuity in handling separate threats with a force several times smaller than what he needed to win was nothing short of genius. That he had avoided total catastrophe for so long was truly a marvel and one Ozianaris would not forget.

But with the collapse of Fodere's defensive emplacements, and three Honored Daemons and their armies bearing down on him, it was only a matter of time before his momentum halted and reversed.

He had survived the first and most terrifying wave of destruction, when all three Honored Lords descended upon him, and Ozianaris' ritual had caught him completely off guard. Despite losing years' worth of hard work and conquest, Fodere acted calmly and decisively as he moved to protect his servants, but his failure was set in stone the moment Ozianaris had broken free from the chains holding her back.

Now, with Ozianaris' rituals that served both to destroy him, and then to save him, Fodere had no choice but to limp back to the safety of his manor and command from safety as his servants remained besieged on all sides by vengeful Daemons.

Karthronus' rage had not abated after nearly killing the Amber Lord, rather it had grown and amplified in scale as the servants of Tzeentch and Slaanesh backstabbed her at the most critical moment of her duel. Rather than return to her throne within the Blood Fortress, she remained on the killing fields, claiming billions of Daemons every month as she slaughtered all in her path whether friendly or foe.

Despite inflicting damage on her own domain, The Lord of Blood was still a walking disaster to contend with as she singlehandedly won battle after battle during her year-long campaign to find and kill any of the other Lords.

The other Lords wisely remained out of her way as they contributed to the war effort in their own ways, and thankfully Karthronus' rage though bloody and powerful remained directionless as she slaughtered hordes of Daemons and failed to effectively claim the territory, allowing her enemies to quietly reclaim their positions when Karthronus charged to the next mass of bodies.

Regardless of her inefficiency, her Daemonic armies poured into every hole left by the retreat of Fodere's armies as they echoed her rage at the Amber Lord's survival and continued to whittle down the his defensive options through brute force.

By the end of the year, Karthronus' kill count in this single campaign had surpassed all the other Pretender Lords respective kill counts over the entire course of the war.

Kris'haikos too remained transfixed upon the Amber Lord and his domain, as even now, he alone remained the most powerful faction within the Black Temple with his peerless command and endless reserves.

The Keeper of Secrets continued her lightning raids against Fodere, striking at every weakness presented and forcing the Daemons of Nurgle to fight an exhausting war of guerilla tactics and unexpected attacks. It was only through Fodere's sheer force of will and tireless orders that he had prevented his lines from utterly breaking beneath the Slaaneshi assault.

Whenever the Amber Lord moved forces to reinforce one castle, the Keeper of Secrets appeared at another. When Fodere sent out supplies and reinforcements to his most beleaguered armies, a few Heralds of Slaanesh appeared and killed off their convoy before the guards could respond. And when the Heralds of Fodere present along the front gathered to prepare an effective counterattack, Kris'haikos personally struck and killed all but one of Fodere's most skilled leaders.

In response to these threats, Fodere martialed the full strength of his domain and emptied the Manor of Decay of all nonessential fighters as he flooded his defenses with wave after wave of fresh and battle-ready Daemons of Nurgle.

It was a brutal and cold strategy that resulted in nearly half of all his Daemons perishing before he could replenish their numbers, but each wave of Daemons marched out and engaged the enemy in long and drawn-out battles wherever they could, bogging down the enemy no matter how unfavorable the environment was as they desperately acted to buy as much time as they could for their Lord to heal from his wounds.

Without the ability to personally appear and spread out his soldiers more effectively, Fodere recognized his strategic weakness and bartered manpower for time as he waited for his enemies to overextend themselves and make a critical weakness for him to capitalize on.

But as Fodere's conquered land was swiftly reclaimed by the other three Lords, Fodere was forced to reevaluate his strategy as his reserves of fighting soldiers and his stock of prepared plagues began to dwindle further and further.

While the other Lords continued to wage their war for dominance over the Black Temple, Ozianaris surveyed the battlefield from afar as she continuously provided divination support to her servants and their offensive efforts. Where the other Lords overcame Fodere's defenses with brute force or overwhelming speed, Ozianaris held back her forces, carefully deploying them so that they always struck when the Daemons of Nurgle were fighting a separate faction.

It was a simple strategy that Fodere would have been capable of responding to under normal circumstances, but with Kris'haikos and Karthronus consistently striking at Fodere's fortifications, Ozianaris was given free rein to scheme and plan as she desired, orchestrating several attacks that weakened the defending Heralds of Nurgle before leading a strike that split the Nurglite defenses in two and advanced the front lines back to the state they were before U'mas' departure.

Had Ozianaris' main goal been to conquer the Black Temple, then now would have been the moment for her to set her great plan into motion. With all three Lords preoccupied with matters other than her and in a position of relative strategic strength, it would have been simple for her to orchestrate the war from afar, using her visions of the future to misdirect and mislead the other Lords on her strength and have them kill each other for her, but now she served a higher purpose.

With the main front restored and her borders secured for the near future, Ozianaris shifted her goals from reconquest to preparing for U'mas' return, and under the cover of the raging war Ozianaris reached out through her domain and made contact with the Shrine of Chaos.

A secret ritual was formed, and as psychic waves began to emanate from the Shrine of Chaos, Ozianaris moved to match U'mas' tempo as she slowly subverted her own control of the Black Temple domain and prepared to return it to the rightful lord.

Under the chaos of a war between Honored daemons, the Lords had paid little attention to the broken and hazardous realm of the Shrine of Chaos. The Shrine could be reclaimed later, they had all said, for there was no power or relics left there to claim after the initial betrayal of the Pretender Lords had shattered the power of Chaos Undivided.

Whatever shattered fragments of power that were left in the desecrated Shrine required far too much investment to acquire, and its active destruction of all that approached forced the Lords to battle one another instead of claiming the capital of the kingdom.

With U'mas' ritual however, this narrative had changed, as the power of Chaos Undivided flowed unfettered throughout the Shrine and was bolstered by the will of Slaanesh's Favored Keeper of Secrets, but the Lords paid little attention to the Shrine as they fought one another, far too caught up in their petty game of meaningless grudged and unending war to notice the power that had quietly appeared on their most vulnerable flank.

Now they paid the price, as the thunderclouds covering the Shrine suddenly parted, one rift opening in each cardinal direction as a strange light flowed across the Black Temple.

At the top of the Shrine, a circular orb that had been shattered and cast the Black Temple in the shadow of darkness reformed, blasting a strange golden light across the Black Temple that made the Pretender Lords freeze in fear.

The light that flowed through the rifts in the storm shone directly on the center of the domains of the Lords, and the Warp began to shake as raw unfiltered power streamed forth and pooled atop their mightiest fortresses.

Fodere, Karthronus, and Kris'haikos all froze as they processed the meaning of the seemingly impossible resurgence of Chaos Undivided. One-by-one, the Lords had realized they were played for fools, for as they fought and toiled against one another's defenses, U'mas, Hunter of Daemon hunters, had snuck back into his home and was preparing to enter the war for the Black Temple.

Karthronus reeled back from the light when it struck the Blood Fortress, and its brilliance blinded her eyes temporarily and struck her out of her rage. With all her forces concentrated along the other Lords battle lines and her strongest Heralds leading the offensives, Karthronus realized that she had no meaningful way to attack U'mas without leaving herself defenseless.

Despite this fact, Karthronus' blood still boiled at the sudden emergence of the master she betrayed, and so without hesitation, she sent every single Daemon that remained within the Blood Fortress on a suicidal offensive against the Hunter's defenses.

Her Heralds would not arrive in time to change the outcome of the battle, but her servants were still mighty even reduced in organization, and it would be enough to make the Hunter regret returning without an army of his own.

Kris'haikos meanwhile maintained far better organization amongst her Heralds, and with her territory having only grown in size, she found that she had more than enough time to pester the arrogant hunter with some of her own Heralds.

Truthfully, Kris'haikos wished she could personally intervene and finish the Hunter off personally for intruding on her home over a decade earlier, but she was having far too much fun with Fodere's servants, and so a well-armed army of her finest Heralds would suffice to punish U'mas.

Kris'haikos had a war to finish as she smelled blood in the air and found herself in a position to defeat Fodere once and for all, preferring to weaken Fodere's position even further as she prepared her final and greatest lightning strike of all.

She did not realize that by the time her plan for Fodere had been completed, the war for the Black Temple would already have been decided.

As the other two Lords hastily sent their reserve forces to the Shrine of Chaos, Fodere cursed as a new and unexpected front opened across his weakest and most undefended flank. Had he more time, he might have been able to completely crush U'mas' gambit with the full weight of his armies and utilizing his conquered territories as a buffer while he dealt with the larger threat.

But now after only having just now finally finished healing his wounds, Fodere found himself with only a tenth of his army in a position to attack U'mas after his previous emptying of his reserves. If he had just been a little bit more patient or had just done a better job of slowing down the other Lords' advances over the course of the year, he might have been able to overwhelm U'mas before whatever ritual he was planning was completed.

But with his wounds healed now at long last, Fodere could finally return to the front lines. It would be inconvenient for him to depart now with his domain under constant assault, but his personal interference was the only card he had left to play now with the small army he had left.

With no other good option available to him, the Amber Lord quickly wrote down a series of orders for his Heralds to follow before marching into the rift with the last of his forces. He would defeat the Daemonsbane Hunter now, or he would die trying.

While the other Lords panicked and scrambled to deal with this new threat, Ozianaris maintained a calm and steady composure. She no longer had the forces necessary to aid U'mas and Sla'naris in their defense as even now, the other Lords were constantly laying siege to her domain from the moment she departed to carry out her ritual.

But even still, the will of Tzeentch had made it apparent to her long ago. U'mas had already won, and the Black Covenant would be reforged under their shared banner.

All that remained was to convince the other Lords that their time in the Sun had come and gone.



Sla'naris watched as the Daemons of three chaos Gods poured through the rifts and laughed as her thoughts filled with images of the battle to come. The personal appearance of Fodere, the Amber Lord, was an unexpected and annoying inconvenience, but Ozianaris' messenger had ensured she was prepared well in advance of his arrival.

With her Heralds commanding the rear against the Khornates and Kris'haikos' Slaaneshi Daemons, she alone would lead the forces of the Black Covenant against the most skilled commander of the Black Temple.

Even now, if she strained her eyes, she could see the smallest of pulses in the Warp as Fodere communicated with his Heralds, directing the war effort at home while he prepared his own invasion of the Shrine of Chaos. It was an absurd level of skill in multi-tasking that he possessed to even be capable of such a thing, and Sla'naris was giddy with excitement as she prepared herself for the battle to come.

It was a shame U'mas had forbidden her from ambushing any other Lords unless it was absolutely necessary for his ritual to finish, as she without his Heralds to protect him or his false domain to use as a shield, she would be more than capable of defeating him in a duel without incident.

But alas, U'mas had looked at her with such a concerned look as he asked her to remain careful that Sla'naris really had no choice but to acquiesce to his request.
Sla'naris sighed in annoyance and said fine, and now here she was, leading an army in a manner she was still unfamiliar with as the Amber Lord made preparations for a quick and bloody siege.

With a smirk, Sla'naris raised her blade to the sky and the loyal Daemons of Slaanesh all across the Shrine roared as they willed their victory upon the galaxy itself.

With that, the war began as Fodere's army stepped into range.

The Daemons of Slaanesh were not used to static defense, and so as the Daemons of Nurgle advanced upon the wall, there was some hesitation on how to fight back, giving Fodere's forces valuable time to advance upon the wall without harassment of any kind.

Noticing this gap in her strategy and her failure to set up her forcez properly beforehand, Sla'naris acted immediately and organized her servants into separate parties, ordering half of them to sally forth and harass the Amber Lord's children while the other half began utilizing the emplacements upon the wall to rain down hellfire upon the Daemons of Nurgle.

As the Daemons of Slaanesh hurtled towards the Daemons of Nurgle, Fodere immediately acted and ordered an immediate halt to his forces who quickly obeyed. With unreal speed, the Nurglings dug out a trench in the ground that they immediately took cover in, forcing the Daemons of Slaanesh to attack a defended position and get caught in a killing field.

Over the course of a few days, Sla'naris directed the raiders to continually disengage and then strike again somewhere else, keeping her forces constantly on the move and separated from one another lest Fodere find an opportunity to deploy any plagues he possessed against a static force.

With the minimal artillery arrayed along the walls, Sla'naris was able to keep up constant harassment and prevent the Daemons of Nurgle from advancing as her raiding parties moved from one area of the battlefield to another.

Despite her constant attacks however, Fodere proved himself a patient commander as he ordered his lines to move forward step-by-step, constructing defenses as they moved to prevent Sla'naris' raiders from getting a clear target until they finally reached a distance where they could assault the walls without the raiders interference as they constructed a series of defenses behind them.

Sla'naris hummed as she considered the course of the battle so far. Getting drawn into an extended battle with Nurglite Daemons was a bad idea, and Fodere was skilled enough to prevent her from launching a sneaky attack from behind. If she wanted to prevent Fodere from reaching U'mas she would have to get creative with how she defended the walls.

At the other side of the Shrine of Chaos, Sla'naris' Heralds meet together and coordinate their strategy in the face of overwhelming numbers. Although neither attack force sent against them was altogether too powerful, the sheer number of Daemons as well as the fact they were attacking from two directions meant that there was little chance in them successfully holding the walls indefinitely against either force if they tried to fight and hold them there.

At their master's recommendation, the Heralds realized that they would have to use an active defense, utilizing their superior coordination to fend off the Khornate Daemons and using superior knowledge of the environment of the Shrine of Chaos outplay Kris'haikos' attack force.

The Heralds of Sla'naris agreed to split their forces in half and move forward from there as half the force went to face Karthronus' mob and the other half went to fend off Kris'haikos' army. The Heralds of Sla'naris sent to face the Khornate horde understood that even disorganized, they were still a mighty and powerful group of warriors, and so the Heralds led a series of raids, followed by organized retreats as they led the Khornate army off in various directions, doing everything they could to keep the enemy away from the Black Temple.

Ultimately, they were not able to inflict any meaningful damage as the warriors of Khorne chased their prey with a hunger for blood that overwhelmed any fear of ambush or traps. After several back-and-forth raids and retreats, the Heralds of Sla'naris retreated back to the Black Temple after deciding they had bought enough time against the Khornates.

The Heralds sent to battle Kris'haikos' forces found themselves similarly engaged in a deadly dance. Although the Heralds of Sla'naris were skilled and well-studied in the territory and hazards of the Shrine of Chaos, Kris'haikos' Heralds were similarly skilled, having fought against and led a war against one of the most intelligent Honored Daemons in the Black Temple for several years now.

Sla'naris' Heralds did manage to delay the attack of Kris'haikos' Heralds by several weeks with the constant threat of raids however as they weaved in and out of the storm's deadly tendrils, braving impossible dangers with practiced ease as Kris'haikos' Daemons were forced to constantly back away from their desire to strike at the exposed rear of their enemy or else face total annihilation.

With Kris'haikos' forces appropriately delayed, Sla'naris' Heralds engaged in combat with the invading Slaaneshi Daemons noticed the Heralds fighting the Khornates moving back behind the safety of the walls and decided to retreat as well before Kris'haikos' army managed to make an unexpected move and meaningfully damage their army.


Sla'naris glanced at the flanks her Heralds were defending, noting their departure and their return as they came back with numbers relatively equivalent to what they left with and Sla'naris nodded as they met her expectation of a limited casualty distraction before she returned her attention to the Amber Lord's assault.

Fodere's assault was one fit for a Great Unclean One, as his forces moved slowly but in unison up and over the wall, using their shared bulk to weather the defender's attacks and scaled the wall to reach the defenders guarding the top.

Across the field, Sla'naris' raiding parties circled the small wall that was rapidly constructed on the rear of Fodere's army. It was a devious little tactic of his, as Fodere on its own the wall would fall in a matter of hours against a dedicated assault, but Fodere had done well to keep back the bulk of his forces, keeping them fresh and ready to scale the walls while they simultaneously kept an eye out for any funny business on her part.

A simple plan, but one Sla'naris discovered she really did not have an answer to as Fodere retained enough forces to continue his attack while also defending his rear, and without the ability to successfully harass Fodere, it was only a matter of time before the Amber Lord's resiliency and sheer will broke through her well-crafted defenses.

What she needed was for Fodere to not just commit a single wave, but the bulk of his forces so that his walls would be too lightly defended to properly protect his rear. Sla'naris thought for a moment on how to put her idea into action and then sent out an order to the forces guarding her wall.

In accordance with her orders, the lines of the slaaneshi Daemons slowly began to break as the Daemons of Nurgle advanced relentlessly. Within the confines of the walls, the Daemons of Slaanesh held a noteworthy advantage but the Daemons of Nurgle were equally well-suited to such slow and grinding warfare while the Daemons of Slaanesh struggled to make full use of their speed.


Slowly but surely, Fodere's forces pushed back Sla'naris', forcing them off the wall and after several days of fighting, the walls had been fully claimed by the Daemons of Nurgle. Noticing the battle turn in his favor, Fodere ordered his forces to scale the walls, and prepared to push in to the Shrine and start a series of long urban warfare within the Shrine's interior city.

But as Fodere's forces began climbing the walls, Sla'naris smirked, and with a snap of her fingers, the sigils a small task force had carved into the walls mere hours prepared made themselves visible and detonated, obliterating the wall and sending nearly half of fodere's army straight back down to the ground.

Fodere lurched back in surprise as a move more reminiscent of the Daemons of Tzeentch than those of Slaanesh was used against him and Fodere could do nothing but watch helplessly as the Sla'naris' Daemons waiting on the ground rapidly advanced over the crumbled terrain, beheading every Daemon of Nurgle that staggered to their feet and ensuring those that could not disappeared from the Black Temple with a quick stab.

His predicament worsened as the raiding force circling behind him busted through his makeshift wall, forcing his reserves to action against the unexpected assault rather than assisting their fallen brothers. In the course of a single day after several weeks of fighting over the wall, Fodere managed to lose half of his fighting force to Sla'naris' little scheme.

He had vastly underestimated the Favored Keeper of Secrets, for when he had discovered the presence of Slaaneshi Daemons, he had expected them to fight the way Slaaneshi Daemons did, using speed and precision to overwhelm their enemy in a storm of brutal and yet elegant warfare, and despite that, this Keeper of Secrets had just pulled off a clever scheme that he would have expected from a Lord of Change.

Fodere quickly had to mentally recalculate his plans as his forces dwindled and he began to understand the full magnitude of the threat he was facing. The longer Fodere's forces remained trapped and disorganized beneath the rubble, the more likely it was that the Keeper of Secrets would force him to retreat from sheer attrition.

With his forces in disarray and under assault from both the front and from behind, Fodere took direct command over the last few forces of his that remained uncommitted and led the charge to relieve his children of the danger he had led them in to.

Along the Slaaneshi front, Sla'naris' Heralds found themselves stuck in a stalemate with Kris'haikos' Heralds. They had done well to stall out the enemy Heralds in the outskirts of the Shrine, for they now found themselves in a brutal killing field where neither side could gain a true advantage over the other.

Kris'haikos' Heralds continually struck out along the walls, looking for any sign of weakness they could capitalize on to break through their enemies' weakness, but Sla'naris' Heralds remained one step ahead at every opportunity and used their defenses to their advantage and sallied out back and forth to force the enemy servants of Slaanesh to halt their probing strikes.

Despite this setback, this stalemate was to their advantage as they did not need to secure victory, they only needed to defend long enough that U'mas' ritual could be finished and then the war would be as good as won no matter how many losses they took. However, despite their success at preventing anymore enemy advancement, the Heralds of Sla'naris found themselves in a predicament once news of the Khornate front reached them.

Despite using the walls to their advantage to force the Khornate Daemons to take a brutal number of casualties, the Daemons of Karthronus never stopped their assault as they began to overwhelm the defending Slaaneshi Daemons.

Sla'naris' forces made Karthronus' pay for every bloody inch, but it was ultimately a losing battle and with the walls seized and the gates slowly opened, the Heralds defending against Karthronus' army made the call to abandon the outer defenses and move towards their inner defenses where they could better isolate and defeat the invading army along multiple corridors of defense.

The Heralds of Sla'naris debated fiercely, but quickly over how to best deal with this problem before ultimately deciding to stand their ground. There was a small risk that the Khornate daemons fought their way to the defenders along the Slaaneshi front and forced them into a battle on two fronts, but they needed to hold off Kris'haikos' forces for as long as they could, and so this was a risk they simply would have to accept as they prepared for Kris'haikos' Heralds to double their efforts to break in to the Shrine.

Sla'naris watched her forces pick apart the Daemons of Nurgle and smiled when the Amber Lord finally took to the field. It was inconvenient for her that Fodere was personally taking charge as her forces would crumble under the weight of Fodere's assault, but that was a necessary sacrifice to draw him in and force the Amber Lord into a position where she could win.

With a quick wave, the forces raiding the Daemons of Nurgle backed off as the advantage of surprise finally wore off and she did not want them to get caught in a slugging match that they could not win. Unfortunately, the forces currently butchering the Daemons of nurgle could not be saved, or at least not totally, but she would ensure that Fodere paid a bloody price for entering the Shrine of Chaos with a fraction of his forces left.

With his children caught under the rubble, Fodere quickly moved into action and charged in with his spear to relieve his family before they all perished. By the time he arrived, the Daemons of Slaanesh had cleaved their way through over a third of his forces, with the rest of his children huddled in disorganized groups as the Slaaneshi Daemons moved from group to group and slaughtered and Nurglite Daemons who failed to find safety amidst their family.

With the last remaining reserves of his forces, Fodere charged through the beach, slaying millions of Slaaneshi Daemons in the first hour as he worked to save those who still could be saved. To their credit, the Daemons of Slaanesh who were present quickly adapted to his sudden appearance, with the front lines of the Slaaneshi reorienting themselves and charging at the Great Unclean One as they worked to buy time form their allies to slay as many Daemons of Nurgle as they could.

It was a dirty conflict with any semblance of recognizable battle lines falling away under the chaotic nature of the conflict and the two armies began to find themselves interspersed with one another. Under these conditions, the Daemons of Nurgle found themselves slowly gaining the upper hand as their toughness and the close-quarters combat outweighed the value of the speed of the Slaaneshi forces.

Under these conditions, Sla'naris ordered a third of her army to fall back to the inner defenses, for although she could charge into the middle of the fighting and rebalance the equation, she there was no need to resort to such tactics when the inner court served to be even more nightmarishly deadly than the outer walls.

The third of her forces that had disengaged from their raids returned to the Shrine of Chaos, prepared for the fighting to continue as they began activating the traps they had prepared and made themselves ready to contest Fodere's assault one last time.

The last third of her forces that remained was ordered to charge, and despite the fear of the Great Unclean One, they obeyed their master and used the crumbling terrain to their advantage as they weaved in and out of the attacks of the Nurglite Daemons.

Fodere could do nothing but watch as the Slaaneshi Daemons retreated with most of their forces intact and realized he could not yet pursue with the vast majority of his forces locked in conflict. Yet upon hearing that the raiders to his rear had disengaged, Fodere ordered the last of his forces to join in the fighting, and with the sudden surge of yet more Nurglite forces, the battle finally shifted in Fodere's favor.

With superior skill, Fodere analyzed the patterns in which Sla'naris had organized her forces still fighting and began to break off his own forces one by one in order to deal with them. The Amber Lord used his concentrated force and the crumbling terrain to his advantage and forced the Slaaneshi Daemons into corners they could not escape from as the Daemons of nurgle struck from above and below.

Fodere considered activating his stored plague here in order to clear out the remaining forces and immediately begin marching towards the interior defenses only to dismiss that idea as he realized he needed his most powerful weapon at his disposal if he wanted to face both U'mas as well as this Keeper of Secrets and finish the duel alive.

And so, Fodere committed his forces into the deadly slog he had been hoping to force the Keeper of Secrets into and managed to isolate portions of the enemy Daemons one by one and destroy them before moving onto the next.

Despite his overwhelming superiority in numbers and positioning however, Sla'naris' Lesser Daemons proved their mettle as they managed to fight on and inflict equal casualties for every loss they took. Yet slowly, inevitably, Fodere managed to seize victory away from the Slaaneshi Daemons as the Keeper of Secrets retreated inward and Fodere prepared the entirety of his forces for one last push to break through the Slaaneshi army and reach the Hunter meditating within.

At the Slaaneshi front, Sla'naris' Heralds continued their stalemate with Kris'haikos' forces as the Heralds of Kris'haikos became frustrated with their lack of progress. A series of raids were conducted by Kris'haikos' lead Herald and the enemy Slaaneshi Daemons managed to create a series of punctures along the wall that nearly caused the Daemons of Sla'naris to break and retreat.

However, some quick thinking on the part of sla'naris' Heralds repelled the invaders and they managed to repel the enemy assault while patching up the wall enough that it was defensible, if notably damaged. Despite overwhelming numbers, the Heralds of Sla'naris had held their own and managed to use their defenses well enough that the enemy could not advance, but these small breakthroughs worried the Daemons of Sla'naris as one single slip-up would be all it took for them to break.

Their worries were slightly abated however, as good news finally came from the Khornate front. Despite the overwhelming aggression of the Khornate Daemons, the Daemons of Sla'naris had used the internally confusing architecture of the Shrine of Chaos to separate and isolate several long columns of Khornate Daemons where they were able to crush and completely annihilate nearly two-thirds of the assembled force.

Despite this success, the Daemons of Karthronus still remained active on the field and with Khornates now rampaging inside of the shrine, they requested assistance to take down the remaining enemy Daemons before they damaged the Shrine too badly.

With the walls slowly crumbling and a very good reason to move in further to the Shrine of chaos, the Heralds of Sla'naris began an organized retreat where over the course of several days, their forces moved in, activating traps behind them to stall for time as they prepared for the final phase of their defense.

Within the Great Hall, orbs of light swirl around the Daemonsbane Hunter with power and the Sword of the Damned glows with ethereal power. A mote of light breaks off and leaves the Grand Hall, making its way to the Keeper of Secrets just outside. Sla'naris sees the light flash in the corner of her eyes and smiles as the ritual proceeds on schedule.

With the final stretch before victory before her, Sla'naris begins to plan her final defensive pattern. Although she has superior forces, Fodere's raw force concentration and the carefulness with which he was moving through the Black Temple would make ambushing him difficult and inflicting lasting damage even more so.

Sla'naris pulled the sword she was carrying up and looked at her own reflection. There was a very good chance that should her army break, she would have to face Fodere alone. She was confident in her skill with a blade, but if she had to cut her way through his army to get to him, her chances of success would be more contingent on U'mas finishing the ritual quickly than actually defeating the Great Unclean One in a duel.

The Keeper of Secrets looked over to the other fronts as her Heralds prepared to make their final stand within the internal defenses of the Shrine as well and chuckled. She had nothing to worry about from them. They had more than done their part in holding back the tide of enemy Daemons, and they would hold until the last moment of victory no matter what happened.

Sla'naris instead needed to focus on her own war, and as she pondered what to do next, Sla'naris realized that defeating Fodere in a duel of commanders was simply not possible. Fodere was the premier commander amongst all Daemons within the Black Temple, and even as he still commanded the Daemons to invade the Shrine, Sla'naris could still see him leading the defense of the Manor of Decay.

He was a truly master commander without compare, but even when taking his absurd skill at command into account Sla'naris realized she still had one last card to play.

Now that Fodere had stepped inside the Black Temple, it was finally time for Sla'naris to strike back and make him play by her own rules. Even if Fodere kept his cards close to his chest and kept a tight, responsive control over his children, it would mean nothing if Fodere was already overwhelmed by the speed of her attacks and the scheme she had just planned.

As Sla'naris watched Fodere slowly creep his way into the Black Temple, the Keeper of Secrets slowly realized that it was entirely possible for her to simply delay him, to make him slow down his already glacial pace to where he would not be able to arrive at the Grand Hall in time and his fate would be sealed, but as she watched Fodere repel her raids, Sla'naris finally found an opening.


The Amber Lord commanded his forces well, for even within the depths of the Shrine of Chaos, Fodere managed to keep his losses relatively light. Fodere personally watched over his forces, spotting several faint runes of Slaanesh preparing to activate and deactivated them as well as several passages that led to dead ends lined with explosives.

This was a very deviously crafted maze, and if not for the obvious blessings of Slaanesh lining the walls and the lack of any Tzeentchian decoration, he would expect his enemy commander to be a Lord of Change, not a Keeper of Secrets.

With his perspective shifted on his opponent altered towards looking for traps, Fodere shifted the structure of his forces into a looser and less tightly connected formation. The worst-case scenario for Fodere was that if his forces were all clumped together and he failed to spot a trap, the results would be catastrophic, and he could not take any more serious losses. And if he continued to lead the scouting party like this, there was a chance of him being ambushed, not to mention how slow his army needed to move.

Small scouting parties began to forge ahead, alerting the following army of potential traps or hazards, and with just this small adjustment, Fodere's speed doubled in its pace. Several scouting parties were ambushed, and a few fell victim to the traps set by the Keeper of Secrets, but these losses were minor and allowed the main bulk of the army to continue unimpeded.

The Keeper of Secrets had already displayed her hand earlier in blowing up her own fortifications to better attack him, and as he disarmed a trap meant to collapse an entire hallway in on itself, Fodere realized he finally had the Keeper of Secrets' tactics figured out as she continued with her mix of Tzeentchian gambits and Slaaneshi raiding tactics.

After several days of the Slaaneshi forces picking off Nurglite hordes, Fodere found that his army had entered the final row of hallways leading to the inner sanctum where he could already sense the powers of U'mas' ritual gathering inside.

With no time to waste, Fodere forged ahead, moving his army at an even faster pace as he raced to stop the ritual before it fired.
Fodere's army rounded a corner, growing nearer and nearer to the end of their mission when they suddenly screeched to a halt as a loud scream pierced the quiet diligence with which the Daemons of Nurgle worked.

Without warning, a horde of Daemonettes came rushing out into the Hall, surprising the Daemons of Nurgle as they charged headlong into Fodere's army. The scouts providing forward reconnaissance immediately perished under the sheer weight of Slaaneshi bodies and millions of Nurglite Daemons perished from the sudden onslaught.

The shock did not wear off until Fodere himself acted and ordered his forces to combine together and enter a defensive formation, but by now it was too late for the majority of his forces to link their battle lines together as the Slaaneshi daemons pushed through several ranks of Daemons with sheer force as their momentum carried them through the unprepared Nurglite lines.

Fodere signaled for his rear ranks to march up and provide support to the front lines. This was an unexpected strategy from the Keeper of Secrets to abandon her hit-and-run tactics in favor of a direct approach, but it would ultimately work against her once his forces used their own sturdiness to counter the enemies' momentum.

The moment Fodere's forces began to move forward however, a second roar sounded from behind them causing Fodere to whirl his head around and notice a second horde of Slaaneshi Daemons bearing down on his position at a ludicrous speed. The Amber Lord cursed and halted his forces, causing them to stumble in place and hastily set up shoddy lines to meet the new unexpected threat.

Fodere tried to order his forces to maneuver into favorable positions to turn their encirclement into a disadvantage for the Slaaneshi daemons, but within these restricted hallways Fodere found that he could not move his Daemons in a way that was optimal without completely sacrificing the unity of his army.

And even though his forces were superior in the kind of close-quarters combat brought about in such tight spaces with limited room for mobility, that did not truly matter when his own army was out of position and disorganized while the Keeper of Secrets maintained a constant momentum.

With his forces trapped and surrounded, a hidden doorway opened down the middle of his forces and even more Daemons appeared, cutting his forces in half yet again and inflicting major casualties on Fodere's army.

With his army surrounded, his casualties nearing eighty percent of the forces he had brought with him, and all hope of victory cut off with this single rush, Fodere finally realized he had lost the battle.

Had he simply brought more troops, or better anticipated Sla'naris' attack patterns as he carried out his assault of the Shrine of Chaos, there was a chance that his superior skill in command would have carried his army to victory. But this Keeper of Secrets had thrown off his plans several times by embracing not just Slaaneshi tactics, but Tzeentchian, and Khornate tactics as well.

Perhaps later, when his forces had recovered, and he had time to focus on the forces U'mas had brought, he would be able to invade and claim victory, but for now all he could do was return to the Manor of Decay and use the false domain's power to protect himself from any revenge strikes.

And so, with a heavy heart, Fodere ordered a retreat and personally led the remaining survivors of his army on a long and difficult path out of the Shrine as they raced back to the safety of their domain.

Sla'naris laughed as Fodere called his retreat and sent off the remainder of her forces to harass him and prevent him from thinking twice about returning. Against the power of an Honored Great Unclean One, direct combat with him was suicidal, but as Fodere was focused on escaping and not fighting, the raiding parties were able to move freely and efficiently as they forced the Amber Lord to fight an undignified retreat.

Sla'naris prepared to send back up to the Heralds, but quickly realized that would no longer be necessary.

When the Heralds defending the front lines against the Slaaneshi finally arrived at the inner defenses and joined those defending against the Khornates, the Heralds realized that their difficult work in delaying the enemy had finally paid off.

Although delaying the Khornates and Slaaneshi had cost them dearly in casualties, they now found themselves in a massive positional advantage against the invaders as they found themselves lost within the twisting and windy corridors of the Shrine.

Unlike the Nurglite invaders, neither the Khornates nor the Slaaneshi invaders had the skill and power over the Warp necessary to maintain their bearing as they invaded the inner defenses of the Black Temple, and the Khornate Daemons sense of unity had been shattered completely.

Without any Herald to guide them and having had their numbers obliterated after walking into trap after trap, the Khornate invaders had been almost completely wiped out. With some clever scheming and allowing the Khornates to further isolate themselves by wandering down empty corridors, the Heralds of Sla'naris were able to isolate and kill off the remaining Khornate patrols one-by-one until at last they had all been defeated and the Heralds turned their attention towards Kris'haikos' daemons.

Although Kris'haikos' Heralds had done well to poke defenses in the defenses of Sla'naris' servants, upon entering the inner defenses of the Shrine of Chaos, the Heralds of Kris'haikos found themselves more and more disorganized as the paths continued to grow more and more treacherous.

At first the lead Herald of Kris'haikos maintained order well enough and had enough scouting parties on hand to avoid most problems, their subordinates grew more and more anxious as their numbers were slowly whittled away at with minor ambush after minor ambush.

Fearing a total defeat, the other Heralds of Kris'haikos disobeyed the direct command of their leader and began to lead their own excursions, dramatically dispersing their forces and unknowingly allowing themselves to be surrounded by the Heralds of Sla'naris who now put their full attention upon the traitorous Daemons of Slaanesh.

After several days of being isolated, Kris'haikos' lead Herald attempted to make a breakthrough and reach their allies who had wandered off and were slowly dying one by one, but the Heralds of Sla'naris acted first and began launching even more ambushes, bogging them down and forcing them to move slowly through the Black Temple or else risk total loss.

With their unity shattered and their forces scattered, the Heralds of Sla'naris picked off the remaining Heralds one-at-a-time, using superior numbers and encirclement to force their enemy into losing battles from which they could not escape resulting in the elimination of nearly two-thirds of the invading Slaaneshi daemons in only a handful of days.

Not all of their ambushes were successful however, and after realizing their mistake, one of the Heralds Kris'haikos sent realized their mistake and joined back up with the main body led by the lead Herald and prepared to organize a retreat as they realized the Daemons of Nurgle and Khorne had already departed.

With the Daemons of Khorne dead and the Daemons of Slaanesh on the run, a few of Sla'naris' Heralds argued that they should chase down the enemy and kill them to prevent them from becoming a problem later. This debate slowly began to escalate but before the debate became problematic, Sla'naris stepped in and congratulated them on their success before ordering them to stand down.

Even though their goal had been to buy time, Sla'naris and her Heralds had managed to achieve the best-case scenario and had completely driven away all the enemy invaders. It was the first time that these Heralds had received open compliments, and it left many of them abuzz with pride as they relished this new sensation, but they did not have long to enjoy their victory as Sla'naris ordered them to march down to the entrance of the Great Hall.

Just as the last Daemon of Slaanesh assembled near the center of the Shrine of Chaos, the world darkened, the light shining across the Black Temple twisted and transformed itself into a dark shadow, and the doors leading to the Altar of U'mas' birth swung open, and the Daemonsbane Hunter's ritual was unleashed at long last.



Across the Black Temple, the Pretender Lords continued to squabble over the borders of their territories. Of the three Pretender Lords who had yet to rejoin the Black Covenant, only Fodere took the threat of U'mas' return seriously, but with the other Lords constantly attacking him and his underestimation of the Keeper of Secrets protecting U'mas, he failed to secure the Shrine of Chaos for himself.

The other two Lords were dismissive of the Hunter and his small faction of outcasts, dismissing him as an easy challenge as they sent waves of forces to harass his ritual, but they too did not understand the magnitude of Sla'naris' threat.

With their forces routed or annihilated, Karthronus and Kris'haikos finally realized the mistake they had made in underestimating U'mas, and they personally vowed to strike back the following year while Fodere prepared his second, better armed wave of forces.

Meanwhile, however, they still found themselves caught in their war of grudges, too busy attacking and defending their falsified claims upon the Black Temple to notice the growing storm breaking through the barriers of their domains.

Within the Shrine of Chaos, U'mas chanted, calling out to the Gods for power as a tool of salvation. The Daemons of Slaanesh chanted with him, adding their power to stabilize the ritual as U'mas directed the energies of the Warp.

At the final moment, U'mas raised the Sword of the Damned to the sky, and slammed it down upon the altar, shattering it and unleashing the energies contained within.

A pillar of light raced skyward, striking the orb rotating above the Shrine and amplifying its power a hundred times over. The orb began to vibrate rapidly as its vessel struggled to contain the energies within but refusing to break.

The Daemonsbane Hunter upon seeing this ascended to the sky rapidly, and stopped before the orb, watching as the singularity holding back the domain that was rightfully his maintained its barrier, protecting the illusion over the Black Temple that allowed the Pretender Lords to lay their claim upon his home.

U'mas took the Sword of the Damned once more, and as one, the words written upon the blade glowed brightly emanating energies that warped the flow of the Warp as they passed and entered the singularity, flooding it with the combined narrative power of every single Black Covenant Daemon to ever live.

The power of the Sword of the Damned cracked the orb, and tiny wisps of shadow began to leak out, and U'mas felt his power grow by the slightest amount with this small fragment of the domain returning to him.

Yet somehow, even now, the grasp of the Pretender Lords has only been tightened and the singularity, the mark of the betrayal of the Black Covenant pact remains firmly locked in place.

Karthronus feels the Blood Fortress begin to slip from her grasp and with a roar of rage, calls upon her power over unreality itself to rewrite the rules of the Warp and just barely manages to hold on to her Domain. At the call of the Lord of Blood call, billions of Bloodletters manifest into the Warp and begin to invade the Shrine of Chaos as she demands the head of the Daemonsbane Hunter.

Fodere too lurches back as the Manor of Decay begins to falter, its innate power over the blessings of Chaos Undivided begins to crack and sway as his throne sinks into the realm of nonexistence. The Lord of Decay grasps the grinding wheel of time and forces it to a halt as he strengthens the defenses of his domain for the war to come, casting a glare at the Shrine of Chaos that he had failed to invade.

Kris'haikos merely laughs as the Halls of Desire begin to shriek and lash out against her tender grasp. The sensation of having one's very title ripped away was a new sensation, but one the Lord of Excess would have to thank the Daemonsbane Hunter for once she trapped him within her torture chambers as thanks for this new experience.

Ozianaris looked out at the baleful light cast across the Black Temple, as the shadow fogging her mind finally faded away. The ritual of the Daemonsbane Hunter had not just asserted his control over the Domain of the Black Temple, it had clawed back the veil blinding her sight, as well as that of the other Lords from seeing the damage they had done to the Black Covenant through their betrayal.

The Lord of Fate raised her staff and a barrier formed between the Crsytal Palace and the Shrine's light, insulating her false domain with protection as she ordered her Heralds to...

Ozianaris froze.

Despite her intentions to rejoin the Black Covenant and make U'mas, the rightful Lord of the Black Temple, take his place as the leader of Chaos Undivided, her essence demanded that she betray U'mas and claim his power for herself.

The very nature of Fate's servants was Change, and without even consciously realizing it, she had nearly changed her allegiance to suit her own goals once more.

The Lord of Change paused, and a heavy weight fell upon her shoulder as a looming presence gazed into her mind, presenting visions of a future that could be.

Ozianaris, Lord of the Black Temple, and master of the Black Covenant, leading the final charge against a weakened Daemonsbane as he clutched the broken body of his favored son in his bloody hands.

The Eyes of Fate fell upon her, demanding Ozianaris to make herself known to the galaxy, whether as a loyalist or a traitor.

Ozianaris nearly choked as the power of this foreign entity encroached upon her space in the Materium as the creature asked its question.
With the weight of a galaxy on her shoulders, Ozianaris stumbled back and the light of the Shrine of Chaos flowed through the Crystal Palace, seeking to undo her false domain and restore it to U'mas' control once more.

Ozianaris' body began to shake as the power carved its way through her very essence, seeking to unmake her as it rejected her, and Ozianaris pushed back at the presence invading the clarity of her mind.

With her mind restored, Ozianaris looked up to the sky and gave her answer.

The presence looked down on her with an uncaring look as it listened to her words, and then it left, leaving Ozianaris behind as the power of the Black Temple tried to overwhelm her immaterial form.

Dazed and fighting off the energies of the Warp itself, Ozianaris stumbled over to her throne, the seat of her stolen power as the power of Chaos Undivided within sought to break free and return to the Daemonsbane Hunter.

Ozianaris looked down at the throne she had betrayed the will of the Gods for and raised her staff.

"Let the Black Covenant be reborn."

The staff fell, enchanted with all the power Ozianaris had left to give, and shattered the throne of the Pretender Lord of Fate.

The energies of Chaos Undivided contained within rushed out, blanketing the domain of Tzeentch's servants and corrupting it with the power of all four Chaos Gods. The Crystal Palace shattered, breaking under its own weight as the power holding it together fled and returned to the Shrine of Chaos.

The Lord of Fate was no more, and with the fall of Ozianaris' domain, the Shrine of Chaos burned with power as shadows began to smash into the domains of the remaining three Pretender Lords, from both the Shrine and the wreckage of the Crystal Palace and the Lords were rocked from this unexpected assault.

From atop the Shrine, U'mas smiled as a quarter of the orb containing the true Black Temple within shattered, falling into dust as power began to flow freely from the Shrine and blanketed the Warp in its darkness.

The singularity still struggled in his grasp though, and as the outer shell suddenly collapsed and crumbled, a layer of energy manifested by the will of the broken pact, sealing off the shadow in a desperate bid to prevent its escape, but as it attempted this, U'mas flooded the orb with power and the bindings began to shatter.

Karthronus flailed madly, swinging her twin axes at the light madly as she ordered it to guard her Blood Fortress, but as the Lord of Blood raged against the unfairness of the galaxy, the galaxy raged back and struck down her power, draining her throne of all its power and leaving Karthronus alone as the shadows of Chaos Undivided purified the air of the blood flowing through the air.

Fodere struggled valiantly, imposing his will as the Amber Lord to reaffirm his claim as the rightful Lord of the Black Temple as the shadows rocked his mind with enormous might. The Lord of Decay dared to reach forth for the cycle of time once more, but the wheel must turn, and as Fodere's hand was crushed, the binding on his throne shattered and Chaos Undivided returned to the lands that stank of rot.

Kris'haikos looked up to the sky as she realized the nature of the strange light for the first time. It was hers, her imposition upon the Warp as she sought to affirm her claims of Lordship that rightfully belonged to another. The Lord of Excess found the cloud fogging her mind and purged it from her mind with a smile, as her perfection was restored with the false throne drained of power and welcoming the sight of Chaos Undivided upon her imperfect land.

The Pretender Lords of Fate, Blood, Decay, and Excess had fallen. Though their physical vessels still walk the Immaterium, their futures, their legacies, and their mark of failure upon the Black Covenant was erased from time and memory.

U'mas laughed as the orb shattered, and the shadow of Chaos Undivided covered the world in darkness.

All across the Black Temple, the Daemons of Chaos Undivided, long thought dead and gone returned at the call of their master.

Furies of Chaos Undivided phased into existence, ripping and tearing across the plains with weapons and teeth as the Daemons of the three Lords still unsworn to the Covenant fought a futile battle for dominance.

Strange specters began to haunt the plains, finding those Daemons too afraid to fight, too afraid to return their master, and reached out with their long gaping mouths to swallow up the unworthy.

Even stranger beasts with no master answered the call, and the Black Temple soon found itself host to hundreds of billions of new Daemons, each one seeking to answer the call of the True Lord as the Honored Daemons struggled to respond with the psychic backlash of their sudden failure reverberating across their minds.

U'mas looked out across the plains and knew he had won. No matter whether the traitors accepted his call for alliance or not, the Black Covenant had been returned to its former glory once more as the shadow of Chaos Undivided blanketed the sky and shrouded the Black Temple in its unrelenting darkness that blinded the intruders that yet remained.

The Hunter looked down at the shadowy orb in his hand, untainted by the restraints of betrayal. U'mas could feel the energies contained within warming his hand as it responded to his caress with comforting power.

It would be so easy now, to accept this power into his body and allow it to flow through him and change him. He would become an unstoppable force, one on par with all but the mightiest of Bloodthirsters and enhance with the endurance of a Great Unclean One, the mind of a Lord of Change, and the sublime skill of a Keeper of Secrets.

But U'mas looked at the future the Black Covenant presented to him and chuckled, for he had far greater designs in mind.

U'mas released the orb from his grasp and gave it an order to unravel itself.

At his request, the orb's container dissipated and flowed freely across the Warp and raced across the Black Temple, looking for those marked by the grace of the Black Covenant.

A core chunk of power remained, and flowed through U'mas, enhancing his power and strengthening him for as long as he remained within the Black Temple, but no more as the rest of the power seeped into the Black Temple and U'mas smiled as his gift flew to the allies who had made his victory possible.

Ozianaris looked out forlornly across the plains as she watched the servants of Chaos Undivided striking out across the entirety of the Black Temple. Despite giving up her own power willingly, despite honoring the bargain she had made, and despite advancing the goals of the Black Covenant with her act of shattering her throne, somewhere deep inside, a small part of her long for the power she had grown so accustomed to.

Yet as she sulked within her mind and her servants stood around anxiously awaiting orders, a small wave of energy piqued her interest and Ozianaris looked up to see what it was. A stream of energy descended from the sky, scanning the wreckage of the Crystal Palace, looking for something, and when it spotted the Lord of Change, it fell to the ground.

Under the direction of U'mas, the energy of Chaos Undivided began to flow through the Crystal Palace, restoring it to its former glory as it substituted the powerful, yet highly unstable false throne with stable and reliable recreations of the power of Tzeentch's glory.

Ozianaris felt her power began to grow and looked at her hands. Despite having betrayed him, U'mas had given her the authority to wield the power of the Black Temple Domain. Her authority was reduced from its former heights, yet this single display of trust had somehow surprised her, for it would be so easy to wield this against him if she desired to.

As the power of Chaos Undivided strengthened her power and the servants of U'mas turned and acknowledged her with a simple bow before returning to their battle, Ozianaris laughed.

More satisfying than any scheme, more hilarious than the finest jester, and more unexpected than the will of Tzeentch, Ozianaris laughed as the galaxy opened up before her eyes.

With her power restored, Ozianaris raised her empowered staff and slammed it down on the ground, and at her will, the Daemons of Tzeentch charged for the glory of the Black Covenant.

Sla'naris gathered her servants together and prepared to greet her beloved as he stepped out of the Grand Hall. There would be no bowing, no undignified displays of servitude, for she had shattered that illusion within U'mas' mind long ago, but a welcoming party was always a pleasant sight to be greeted with after a major victory she felt, and what a victory it was.

The doors to the Grand Hall opened, and U'mas stepped forth. With a smile, Sla'naris greeted the victorious Hunter of Daemon Hunters, yet as he came to a stop before her, Sla'naris looked down at his offering with interest.

The power of Chaos Undivided travelled forward, and Sla'naris reached out, taking it into her body as the shadow within enhanced her power.
Sla'naris laughed as U'mas smiled softly, and she turned to ask him a question.

"Is this your marriage proposal then, dear Hunter," she asked with a coy smile.
U'mas looked confused for a moment before, before his eyes lit with recognition.

"Ah, I had not intended it to be taken that way. There are other matters that need to be taken care of first before such things can be contemplated." U'mas smiled at Sla'naris apologetically.

"Hmmm, very well," Sla'naris said. "We shall discuss this later then."

The sounds of fighting echoed across the Black Temple even now as the war escalated, and the noise of war could be heard even within the relative safety of the Shrine of Chaos.

With the Keeper of Secrets pacified for the moment, U'mas turned back towards the Grand Hall, offering a nod of thanks to the ritualists who had assisted him as they passed by and returned to Sla'naris' side.

Even with the restoration of the Black Temple and the gifting of his power to his friends, there was still one last wrong he had to right.

The motionless bodies of his last, and most loyal servants still remained bowed towards the altar. The sacrifice they had made allowed his body to persist and be born even through, but even their mission had finally succeeded, they still remained trapped within their own bodies as the Warp ravaged their minds for their sacrifice as payment for allowing U'mas' birth.

But now, with the power of the Black Temple restored and the Warp ready to obey his will, U'mas waved his hand, and the bindings trapping the minds of his guardians fell away.

Weary and delirious from exhaustion, the Daemons of Chaos Undivided shift from their slumber and awaken from their torment.

U'mas calmy waits as the Daemons stir, allowing them to recollect themselves as spiritual bodies move for the first time in over a decade of pure stillness. Their confusion is evident as the eyes of the Furies float from one to another, wondering who, or what, had disturbed their ritual.

As the Daemons return to full awareness, a single Daemon turns to face the door and sees its Lord. A look of shock is quickly replaced with reverence and joy as it races to throw itself at it's master's feet.

The shouting stirs the entire room, and before long, a hundred thousand Daemons of Chaos Undivided hurl themselves at their masters feet, offering praise to him, and prays of devotion to the Gods for the return of the Hunter.

But of all those Daemons who throw themselves at his feet, there is one who catches his eye above all the others.

A cloaked figure stepped through the bowing figures. Whilst the other Daemons sang and shouted in joy, this was one was deadly quiet, keeping their head low and eyes pointed to the ground as they marched towards the one who had awoken them.

At their passing, the Daemons fall silent, and as they march forward towards the Hunter, the room falls into an hushed silence, with all eyes and ears waiting with eagerness.

The creature who approached looks up slightly, a single eye of piercing bronze visibly widens as it traces the Hunter's body.

The Herald of Chaos Undivided falls to one knee and bows deeply.

"Hail, Lord U'mas," the creature said in a silky, smooth voice. "The True Lord of the Black Temple has arisen as the Gods have decreed."

"Hail!"

The army of Chaos screams the word, and it reverberates across the Grand Hall at an ear-piercing volume before silence claims the room once more. U'mas examines the Herald kneeling before him.

This was the lone Herald who had defended his altar, the lone Herald who had willingly sacrificed himself as well as his entire host to ensure U'mas was born. He and his servants had willingly born the raging tide of the Warp while U'mas travelled and grew in power and skill, suffering for their sacrifice even as U'mas knew nothing about their torment.

U'mas paused for a moment as he contemplated what to do at this display of loyalty and servitude.

The Black Temple leaned forward and whispered the name of U'mas' greatest servant to him.

"Ek'Ada," U'mas said.

U'mas reached down and gently put his hand on the Herald's shoulder.

"Thank you."

The Herald looks up at that, the slightest amount of confusion crossing his weathered crimson face.

"My Lord, I have only done as the pact bid, no more and no less." The Herald refuses to accept his thanks. "All that I have done is my duty, and that I could not perform it better, I am greatly ashamed because of it."

U'mas laughs.

"You have done more than mere duty, good friend, you have dedicated yourself to a cause ordained by the Gods."

"You have faced the servants of the Gods, Honored by their deeds, and refused their selfish greed."

"You have even put your very existence on the line, so that I may live while you could have suffered eternal death."

"You are no dutiful slave, Ek'Ada, you are a noble and loyal warrior of Heaven."

U'mas turned to face the Lesser Daemons who leaned forward as he addressed them.

"And not just you Ek'Ada, let it be known that amongst all the hosts that wage war in the name of the Gods, there are none more noble or loyal than those who gave up their futures so that the will of the Gods may go on."

U'mas continued on as the fervor of the room began to grow with excited whispering. Ek'Ada looked up to his master, with a look of curiosity.

"Of all the Daemons that I have borne witness to, the trials and tribulations that I have seen and partaken in, I see in you all an equal to me. Let it be known across the entire galaxy that you and I are in the same, and that in all things I am pleased with all you have done."

The Daemons rose to their feet and began to roar while Ek'Ada remained kneeled with a smile on his face.

U'mas looked upon his servants, the few who remained loyal while the galaxy demanded they fall, and felt happiness.

"Now, reunited as not just as master and slave, but equals in servitude to the Gods, come with me and take back our home!" U'mas shouted with his full voice.

The roar of the truly loyal echoed across the Black Temple, and all those who turned traitor felt shame.

U'mas turned back to face Sla'naris and her host of Daemons who watched on impassively while Sla'naris clapped politely at his short speech.

"Congratulations on your return U'mas. If you're done rallying the troops, shall we go now to reclaim our home?"

"Yes Sla'naris, our home..."

U'mas raised the Sword of the Damned to the sky as Ek'Ada steps behind him and draws his own greatsword.

"To the galaxy that safeguards and dreams of the Daemonsbane and his future, I now declare this irrefutable fact, the Black Covenant has returned!"


U'mas gains: Covenant of Trust- U'mas can give a portion of his domain bonus to his allies. Currently a +20.

Year 23​

With the return of the Black Covenant's leader and Daemons of Chaos Undivided flooding the Black Temple, the war for the Black Temple quickly shifted in the favor of the loyalist Black Covenant forces.

U'mas and Sla'naris together were an unstoppable force alone but enhanced by the power of the Black Temple's domain, their slaughter was near unstoppable, and hundreds of billions of Daemons poured into every territory to begin the work of reclaiming the Black Temple.

The three Honored Daemons that remained opposed to U'mas and his forces were stunned at the rapid shift in the war and the aggressive pace U'mas had set for himself, but ultimately, there was little the Honored Daemons could do to counteract these assaults.

Where before, the traitors could at least rely on their unstable, but highly explosive power as the Pretender Lords to bolster their power and cast out any opposition who intruded upon their territory, U'mas and the Daemons of the Black Covenant could call upon their domain across the entirety of the Temple and without any damage to the Domain as a whole.

The Lords were forced to crush the areas of the Black Temple that they controlled beneath their heels in order to summon its power, but with the entire domain acknowledging them already, the power earnestly summoned itself rather than try to reject its' masters.

U'mas' Sword of the Damned flared with power as beams of light penetrated the sky, killing millions of Daemons with each slash as he moved. The Hunter used his control over the domain to his advantage, warping the terrain to isolate and hinder his opponents while he crossed entire leagues within the space of a single breath.

Despite having less power, Sla'naris did not stray too far from the Hunter as she persisted with sheer skill. Sla'naris called the Black Temple to enhance her speed even further, and her body moved like lightning across the plains with such speed and grace that all opposing Heralds perished in the blink of an eye.

Yet the duo did not remain static in their conquest, seeking to conquer one domain before moving on to the next. Rather, they intended to destroy all of them at once, and with the power of the Black Temple bolstering them and their servants moving unhindered throughout the Temple, they were all but assured of victory.

Karthronus' rage was great as she took to the killing fields, forced to constantly move throughout her own domain or else risk being caught up in total destruction as Daemons of the Black Covenant manifested without warning and killed millions of her servants before she had time to respond.

The Honored Bloodthirster attempted to charge forward when she eventually spotted a leader of the Black Covenant, but Sla'naris only laughed as the Black Temple opened at her request and she teleported away, leaving Karthronus alone on a barren field.

With chaos fully engulfing his domain in the flames of war, Fodere moved to order his forces across every front and reinforce their defenses wherever the enemy appeared. It was a futile practice however, as U'mas slowly worked his way forward, singlehandedly annihilating several convoys and armies of domains as hordes of Daemons moved behind him and claimed the territory for themselves.

And even with U'mas' organized push, Fodere still found himself beset by ambushes from Daemons in all directions, and Fodere knew it was only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed and defeated.

Of all the traitors, it was Kris'haikos who surprised all, as rather than stay behind and defend a collapsing domain, Kris'haikos struck out with the majority of her forces and laid siege to the Shrine of Chaos in an attempt to destroy the Black Temple's domain at the source of its' power.

Kris'haikos abandoned her notions of perfect assault, using raw speed and momentum to move from fortress to fortress with lightning speed and razing several of U'mas' more well defended fortresses to the ground.

Ozianaris looked on in wonder as she ordered the Black Temple to aid her visions and found that she could achieve a stunning clarity in her visions when the Warp itself was aiding her to reach the correct conclusion in the disorder of the Warp's timestreams.

Upon discovering Kris'haikos' plans, Ozianaris warned U'mas of the danger, who decided to allow the Keeper of Secrets to surround herself rather than stop her from invading as he returned to the Shrine of Chaos in the space of a single minute and fought off the sudden assault on his home.

Kris'haikos laughed when she realized how quick U'mas was and stepped up her own speed, such that even with the empowerment of the Black Temple itself aiding him, U'mas struggled to catch her and force her into a duel.

It was a dance that lasted an entire year, and Kris'haikos laughed madly as she proved that even the most powerful Daemons of Chaos struggled to match her speed and precision in the art of war.

As the other Daemons fought each other, Ozianaris moved carefully, providing support and destructive rituals to each front and slowly closing in on the capitals of each Honored Daemon. The servants of Tzeentch called upon the power of the Warp with renewed ease and Daemons of Chaos Undivided found themselves bolstered with favorable futures and spells granting strength and resilience with which to claw their enemies to pieces.

Kris'haikos' defiance was unexpected but had only delayed the inevitable as the will of Fate closed in on the traitors.

Year 24​

U'mas, hunter of Daemon Hunters, looked on at Kris'haikos' army and applauded them. They had done the unthinkable and managed to stall him out for an entire year while the other Lords struggled to even defend their ruined domains.

Kris'haikos had proved herself over the course of the war in a way no other Pretender Lord had, by ensuring that she was never the main target, biding her time and hiding her full strength before exploding in power when it was least expected.

If U'mas never returned to the Black Temple, and Fodere was too late to realize the threat Kris'haikos posed to him, he would venture to guess that she alone was the most likely to win the war for the Black Temple.

But with his return, all possibilities and potential futures were null and void. The Chaos Gods themselves had declared his victory.

U'mas reached out with his hand, and the storm of the Warp he had been restraining was unleashed, flooding the Shrine of Chaos with its raw unfiltered energy as it annihilated everything in its path.

Kris'haikos flinches backwards as the storm nearly cuts her in half, and rapidly retreated as her army is immediately split in half and rendered easy pickings for his own forces.

While the traitorous Daemons of Slaanesh were racked with debilitating pain, beyond what even their enhanced desires and tolerance could handle, the Daemons of the Black Covenant and Sla'naris' own servants marched freely through, making mincemeat of the disabled Daemons that walked the ground.

It was almost underwhelming, U'mas felt, that he had won so swiftly and so decisively a difficult and bloody war that had gone on for nearly 20 years, and yet U'mas could not bring himself to dislike it all too much, for the sooner the war was won, the sooner he could return to his true purpose.

With Kris'haikos' defeat, a proverbial dam broke and shattered throughout the Temple as the servants of the Black Covenant unified their forces and marched throughout the Black Temple, easily and quickly defeating the servants of all three Honored Daemons.

Karthronus, Fodere, and Kris'haikos all retreated to their fortified central defenses as the world around them burned.

Sla'naris took it upon herself to patrol the Bloodthirster's domain while U'mas was away, slaying any forces who attempted to break free of her encirclement while keeping herself at the ready in case Karthronus did something exceedingly foolish.

Ozianaris meanwhile dismantled Fodere's forces piece by piece, overwhelming his defensive lines through extensive use of the backdoors she finally had easy access to encircle and overwhelm the entrenched Daemons of Nurgle with almost causal ease. Now he waited outside the Manor of Decay and cast a barrier that prevented any plagues from deploying while U'mas finished his mission on the other side of the Black Temple.

U'mas walked through the Hall of Desire, the center of power that had once unerringly belonged to the grasp of Kris'haikos, now totally subservient to his will as it glowed with the sigils of all four Chaos Gods.

Once, a younger, more arrogant, more foolish version of himself had recklessly charged through these halls.

He believed himself to be powerful and that the galaxy would hand him the power he demanded.

He had once been the most foolish of all Daemons within the Black Temple, and Kris'haikos' painful slashes had been the cure to the insipid poison that was his pride.

Even now, he cringed at how foolish he had been to charge in alone and without protection, but now as he marched down the halls, he knew that the will of the Chaos Gods marched with him, but it was up to him to make that will mean something.

In this way, he could only be thankful to the Keeper of Secrets for teaching him the humility that he never knew he needed.

U'mas stepped into the throne room and was greeted with a tired Kris'haikos sitting on a rotting, ugly throne. The former seat of power from which she formerly commanded entire legions.

"Well, U'mas, it has been some time since we last met. Have you finally learned the meaning of pain?" Kris'haikos asked with a tired chuckle. Her smile was frayed and weary as she clutched an arm that had been caught in the storm and damaged by the tempestuous energies of the Warp, yet those markings did not mar her perfection as U'mas still found her beauty a wondrous thing, no less enticing than it was when he first met her.

"I have, Kris'haikos, and I have you and so many others to thank for that," U'mas said.

"What a wondrous thing to hear, even if I am to be bound now to your servitude forevermore," Kris'haikos looked up and smiled at him. "I promise I won't bite much, master."

"No."

Kris'haikos' smile faltered, replaced with confusion.

"In the Black Covenant I am creating, there shall be no masters, there shall be no pawns, and there shall be no slaves." U'mas stepped in front of her and kneeled so that they were on the same level.

"We are each of us, flawed and broken, imperfect and in need of guidance, and I shall not allow a creature as wondrous as yourself to bow your head in shame."

U'mas reaches out a hand, the power of the Black Temple flowing through him.

"Join me Kris'haikos, not as a servant, not as a Lord, but as an equal, and let all the galaxy hear the tale of Kris'haikos and her peerless grace."

Kris'haikos was silent for a long moment, a small look of shock etched on her face.
Her laugh pierced the silence, and Kris'haikos leaned forward.

"Very well then U'mas, swear to give your full self to me, and so I swear, I shall give all that I am to you, and to the duties of the Black Covenant as well."

"I swear it, Kris'haikos. The Daemonsbane shall fall, and yours shall be the blade that finds his imperfection."

With that, Kris'haikos reached forward and took U'mas' hand in her in her uninjured one, and the power of the Black Covenant flowed through her, restoring her body and bringing the fallen Hall of Desire back to glorious life.

Kris'haikos and U'mas got up to their feet, hands still held as Kris'haikos marveled at the power flowing through her and the ease with which she commanded it.

U'mas smiled at her wonder, and with her acceptance of the Black Covenant, the first of the three Honored Daemons joined the Black Covenant.



Now U'mas arrived at the domain of Fodere who awaited him within the Manor of Decay. Of all the Pretender Lords, it was Fodere who had come the closest to achieving victory. His skill at command was peerless, and he was exactly the secret ingredient they needed to defeat Kesar Dorlin.

Ozianaris was a skilled diviner and bargainer, Sla'naris and Kris'haikos were skilled duelists, Karthronus was an unstoppable army killer, and U'mas himself was their best diplomat. But of all the Daemons assembled, none compared in strategic brilliance to Fodere, and his skill at war would be irreplacable in the coming decades.

Other than Fodere, U'mas knew that they had no true answer to the genius of Kesar's First Captain and greatest son, Oriacarius Gielux, and that child would likely need to be killed before the Daemonsbane met his end.

But the Great Unclean One was a stubborn individual, and even now although his title as Lord of Decay was stripped, he still had earned his title as the Amber Lord, and his stubbornness was the stuff of legends.

"With you at our side, I assure you, our chance of victory will become near certain," U'mas said.

"Near certain, you say, and yet I am sure Kairos Fateweaver said much the same before Kesar Dorlin took his head," Fodere casually stated.

"Fateweaver made two critical mistakes, not surrounding himself with competent allies, and underestimating the Daemonsbane even as he stood before him, I assure you that I will not make those same mistakes," U'mas said.

"And yet even still, I cannot fully say you are without fault, U'mas," Fodere said. "This little pet project of yours, to create a pact of Daemons without a master is a foolish endeavor, one that will almost certainly result in our end."

"Almost certainly, you say, and yet I find that the greatest problems require the greatest and most intelligent minds to work together to solve great dilemmas such as these," U'mas says.

"I shall admit to you, Amber Lord, that I do not understand the Daemons of Nurgle in the same way you do, nor do I possess a mind capable of quick and skilled judgement as you do, but I am always willing to learn, Fodere, for within our Covenant, we are all of us equal."
Fodere was silent for a long moment, before he stepped to the side and reached out to one of his amber statues.

"It is often, I find, the failure of mortals that they do not listen to those who are wiser than them. They are weak, foolish, short-lived, and quick to forget as they march ahead to an end that they refuse to fully acknowledge." Fodere reached out and caressed the statue with loving strokes, a gentle look on his face as the mortal within begged for release.

"Should you fail to listen to the advice of those who are by far your better, you will only ever find yourself alone and suffering, as you wonder why the galaxy has cursed you without ever realizing that it was always your fault, and your fault alone that you suffered so." The Amber Lord sighed with a weary look on his face before his expression hardened.

Fodere turned to the Daemonsbane Hunter.

"I shall join this Covenant of yours, foolish though I think it may be, for your pact is in great need of the wisdom found in the embrace of our Grandfather Nurgle."
U'mas reached forward and bestowed the power of Chaos Undivided upon the Amber Lord.

"For this wisdom you shall offer myself and many others, as well as the strength we have to offer to you, I give you my thanks Fodere."



With Kris'haikos convinced and the Amber Lord brought into the fold, there remained only one Honored Daemon left to convince, the Bloodthirster herself, Karthronus.

Of all the Daemons assembled for the Black Covenant, it remained clear to U'mas that Karthronus was the greatest warrior of them all. Even now, with the power of the Black Temple enhancing his skill with the Warp, U'mas could not be entirely sure that he could defeat her in a duel if she refused to listen to reason.

As a safety precaution, Sla'naris and Ozianaris watched from afar, ready to break into the Blood Fortress with their combined might and take down the Bloodthirster together if fighting broke out. Kris'haikos and Fodere were too busy rebuilding their domains to intervene in this case, but U'mas assured them that working on their own domains was more important than backing up U'mas on this occasion.

"I will join this Black Covenant of yours."

Huh, that was surprisingly easy.

"But only if I am allowed to claim the skull of that Amber Lord, that is the price of my axe for your cause."

Ah, that was where his problem would be then.

"I am pleased to hear that you are willing to join the Black Covenant Karthronus, but I cannot hand over the life of a trusted ally," U'mas said carefully.

Karthronus cut an intimidating sight, with her bloody axes held in her hands, and rippling muscles littered with scars covering her entire body. The sight of her alone was enough to intimidate entire worlds, and her roar had been known to cow military leaders into submission before Karthronus was even in attack range.

Those who relieved themselves in her presence were said to be the most dislike of the skulls she claimed, even as she sent all her prizes to the Blood Throne no matter their perceived value.

"Is he not your servant, Hunter, I demand his skull as payment for his insults, or I shall have yours in its place," Karthronus said with fire in her voice, her fists clenched around her axes as she prepared to strike.

"Amongst the Black Covenant, there are no lords or masters Karthronus, only allies and equals, not even I shall claim the mantle of sole dictator," U'mas said as he raised his unarmed hands in a gesture of peace. "Once you join the Black Covenant, you will be joining those you will need to trust to watch your back, and for them to trust you as you watch theirs."

"I do not need your trust to kill the Daemonsbane, U'mas, only the power of slaughter, for the Blood God has given me my strength," Karthronus said, though U'mas could sense she knew this was not entirely true.

"I do not doubt your strength, or that which has been given to you by the Lord of Skulls, but you and I are both aware of the Daemonsbane's skill, simply ask the Exalted Daemon Br'Odural to testify on his behalf if you must," U'mas said carefully.

Karthronus' rage abated and her grip on her axes loosened as he brought up the Battle of the Three Stars and the tragedy of Aleph, and U'mas knew he had her hooked.

"If your first action as a member of the Black Covenant is to kill and betray an ally, then you will find yourself surrounded on all sides by enemies," U'mas said.
Karthronus growled but said nothing as her sense of reason warred with her desire for revenge and slaughter.

"I know you have your grudge against Fodere, and I shall not ask you to release it, but I hope that one day, you, me, and many others may stand side-by-side, not just as allies, but as friends in war, for their shall be many skulls to claim once our crusade against the Daemonsbane finally begins."
U'mas offered his hand, and the power of Chaos Undivided reached out to the Bloodthirster, and all she needed to do was reach back.

For a long-unspoken minute, Karthronus raged a war within herself, to determine whether or not she would accept the offer at face-value or carry out the slaughter she so desperately wanted.

Karthronus roared, an angry roar filled with frustration, and slammed down her axe on the broken throne behind, her shattering it into a million pieces and cementing her status as a member of the Black Covenant.

Karthronus then snatched the power of Chaos Undivided out of U'mas' hands, and let the strange power flow through her, giving her strength beyond compare against all but the mightiest of Daemons.

"Then let the Black Covenant be born U'mas, for I shall bring only war."


After 17 long years of brutal struggle and careful planning, the Black Covenant is finally reborn in its full glory.

The Pretender Lords have abandoned their foolish dreams of ambition and have set aside their personal grievances to work together towards their shared goal of killing the pinnacle of anti-daemonic power.

The Anathema may be beyond the reach of the normal Daemon, but the Daemonsbane could still be killed by those members who had been assembled.

Sla'naris, Favored Keeper of Secrets.

Ozianaris, Honored Lord of Change.

Kris'haikos, Honored Keeper of Secrets.

Fodere, Honored Great Unclean One.

Karthronus, Honored Bloodthirster.

And finally, U'mas, the Hunter of Daemon Hunters.

As he sits in the Grand Hall, contemplating how he should redecorate the place of his birth for the first meeting between all the members of the Black Covenant, U'mas quietly fears that it will not be enough.

That Kesar Dorlin, Daemonsbane and Eleventh Primarch of the Eternal Wardens, might just be beyond their reach or that he would continue to grow and make himself untouchable to all things below him.

From all that he and Ozianaris had worked together to uncover, U'mas could not help but marvel at how quickly Kesar had grown in strength, and U'mas was almost certain that Kesar would continue to improve by leaps and bounds every day that he lived.

Such was the nature of the demigod he sought to slay.

But U'mas had no fear, for this Covenant had been ordained by the Gods of Chaos, and with his friends and loved ones at his side who could stand against him?

The Hunter paused for a moment, and lingered on a specific thought that intrigued him and smiled.

With a wave of his hands, the cracked altar phased out of existence, returning to the deepest layers of the Black Temple as he prepared to reforge this place into a hall worthy of the Chaos Daemons.

Four separate statues were put in place, each one residing at the end of the hall, each made in a shadow of the likeness of the Chaos Gods, each imbued with the sigils of their respective Daemons as they suffused the area with raw Warp energy. These statues would serve as the careful watch of the Chaos Gods, a careful reminder that those from above were watching, and that it was by their will that the Black Covenant's work was done.

Throughout the Hall, he began to place gifts from each of the Black Covenant members.

From Ozianaris, a pile of tomes manifested, each sliding perfectly into place on book shelfs lining the walls, each one made accessible and open to all so that any member of the Black Covenant may read it if they so pleased.

From Karthronus, an arsenal of weapons was placed along the columns supporting the structure of the room. Should the time come that the Black Temple was ever invaded, these weapons provided by Karthronus and infused with the energy surrounding the Great Hall would serve as powerful tools for the defenders.

From Fodere, a series of amber statues were placed between each column. Each statue was said to be made from the body and soul of a mortal who sold their soul to Fodere, and these statues would offer advice to all who listened, offering guidance to all who sought the wisdom of kings and queens of the past. A useful tool for any cultists inducted into their ranks.

From Kris'haikos came a series of beautiful art pieces she claimed to have taken from her own personal collection. Each piece depicted a different part of the Fall, and when put in the correct order told the story of the Fall of both Eldar and Man in a way that slowly corrupted all those who watched.

From Sla'naris, a series of journals and trinkets that she had collected during her time in the Formless Wastes. Individually, they held little value, but they held valuable pieces of history in their stories as they fell into the Warp, and in U'mas' opinion, filled up the empty space of the Grand Hall quite nicely in their display cases.

And now for U'mas contribution, the Hunter carved out a wooden table, and inscribed upon it the names and title of every member of the Black Covenant.

On the surface, it was simply an ordinary round wooden table, but for U'mas, its nature told a story.

There was no head of the table, for within the Black Covenant, all members were equal in status no matter their power or favor with their respective Gods.

Runes of each Chaos God were formed at the place each Daemon would sit, and together each rune converged on the sign of Chaos Undivided, the eight-pointed star.

Should U'mas' plan to recruit more members to the Black Covenant succeed, he would need a much bigger table and more room to inscribe their names, but for now this would work as he desired, as a place where all members were equal and could speak their minds freely.

A messenger from Ek'Ada stepped through the door, and whispered to the Hunter of the arrival of the other members. U'mas smiled and thanked the servant as he sent them away.

With the wisdom of his allies and all the strength they had to muster, the Black Covenant would find a way to kill Kesar Dorlin. Through this Council, they would achieve the impossible, and etch their names upon the story of the galaxy.

The first meeting of the Black Covenant formed to kill Kesar was formed.

The Black Council, a pact of Daemons with no master other than themselves, was born.




Within the Materium at this very moment, Kesar Dorlin departs from the bloody compliance of Oaharai and returns to his home of Valhalla, stirring up old forgotten memories he had not thought of in decades and brings his legion together to help rebind the ties between himself and his sons as well as to heal his conflicted soul.

As the forces of the Warp edge closer towards bringing about his end, Kesar Dorlin finds himself at peace, assured in the knowledge that he loves his sons, and that his sons truly love him.





Within the depths of the Black Covenant, held within the layer deeper than the Abyssal Realm. The chains binding the ancient daemon to his prison slowly begin to snap.

It looks up to the sky above and the verdant peaceful fields of the place it once called home, to the Black Council and their idealistic and utterly naive leader.

Maybe, just maybe, its long and hopeless scheme would finally be realized through this latest champion.

The ancient daemon looked up to the sky and sent forth a whisper to the Hunter.

With this Hunter, and its alliance of equals, there was a chance, a small chance so abysmally low that even the ancient daemon knew the folly of its latest dream, but there was still a chance their bonds to one another could surpass those to their Gods.

The prisoner looked up; a small glimmer of hope visible on their bleeding face for the first time in millions of years and began to speak of its revenge.

Once the Hunter broke it free, they would be the instrument of its revenge, the hands by which the sacrilegious act of deicide was performed.

The Chaos Gods would fall, no matter the price it must pay.

Spoiler: Black Council Members and Traits as of Year 24

U'mas, Hunter of Daemon Hunters:
+120 to all rolls
Sword of the Damned- +20 to combat, ???????
Always has a chance to use diplomacy against daemons he has beaten
+10 to disengage
+10 to wound Thresholds
Halved wound penalties
Negates own critical fails
Skilled Sorcerer
+5 to rolls related to plots
Narrative Understanding of Chaos Daemons (does not apply to undivided)
Narratively less likely to take big risks.
Covenant of Trust- U'mas can give a portion of his domain bonus to his allies. Currently a +20.

Sla'naris:
+80 to all
+10 to diplomacy rolls
+40 to combat rolls (+120 total)
+20 to all rolls against U'mas
+10 to wound thresholds
Negates critical fails, slightly increases effects of critical successes

Ozianaris:
Rolls best of 2
+120 to all, -40 to combat
+40 to plots
+20 to making deals with other daemons

Fodere:
+120 to all rolls
Double wounds
Can command multiple fronts at once without penalties

Kris'haikos:
+120 to all rolls
Double wound thresholds

Karthronus:
+80 to all rolls
+80 to combat (+160 total)

Ek'Ada:
+30 to all rolls
Absurdly Loyal to U'mas
?????

AN: Note that the above traits may not be accurate anymore given that we are in year 51-55 as of finishing this omake but they do give us an idea of what we are facing at least.

 

[Daemon Hunter]

Spoiler: Winning Vote

[X] Plan Just Karandras
-[X] Concentrated and Decisive - A quick, concentrated advance. Will bring the entire force to bear against everything. Traps will be an issue and retreat near impossible.
-[X] Allow them to operate - Kesar may distrust Malcador at this time, but he has worked with these assassins before. They can be trusted.
-[X] Karandras - Nearly unnoticeable, costs nothing, near certainty of rescuing Solarus

Kesar closed his eyes on the bridge of the Vigilance. His talent for divination was low, and he had relied upon his sons up till now. Hoping he may find something now that the Gloriana was within the warp, he extended his vision and saw nothing new.

A butterfly pinned to a board still twitching.

A man whistles while holding a knife.

A woman looks longingly at childhood pictures as they burn in a fire.

It was maddening the number of possibilities there were. Each vision had at least 2 possible meanings that were reported, making them near useless. Shaking his head, Kesar glanced at the clock which displayed the time till system entry. Ten seconds remained. He looked at Karcer, the Lord General Militant staring at her isolated terminal.

The Vigilance breached into reality, and all hell broke loose.

The Imperial fleet jumped into a minefield as all around them countless defense platforms began to fire in coordinated waves. Drone swarms began to approach the various vessels, seeking to isolate and destroy. All while a set of drifting asteroids that resembled Ork Roks provided cover for naval elements alongside acting as defense installations.

Any fleet would have been devastated by the tactic. Perturabo himself would have respected the danger on display and been forced to bend. At least, if the Astartes and guardsmen present didn't have trump cards of their own.

An obscene amount of energy flowed through a cannon created by Vulkan. The vessel which wielded it, more gun than ship, visibly glowed with power, as multiple blow-out panels cracked under the strain. Then Kesar's pupils shrank to pinpricks as it fired. Light was all that could be seen, the colossal acceleration turning matter into the purest form of energy in under a second as a cone of destruction emanated from the vessel. And what was now a minefield was now a patch of space filled with metallic dust.

That is not to say everything went the way of the Wardens, with the Vigilance itself being struck by Epsilon's flagship. The abominable intelligence's vessel rivaled the Gloriana in size. It was a slimmer profile, without the gothic spires that Imperial vessels were known for. Painted a dull black and bristling with a diverse array of weapon systems, it was every bit the match for the Vigilance and the crew within.

And with the element of surprise, having already charged its weapons to full, it was able to bring down the Gloriana's shields in a single volley before boarding parties began to try and breach the ship's cybersecurity.

"What? Where did you get that weapon?" Evidently, they achieved a degree of success.

Robotic swarms descended upon the Vigilance, yet they were cut down by its escorts, leaving the boarding parties to remain elite teams of superior design. Robots Epsilon had used as spears in his assaults or where quality mattered far more than usual. And now, they were dying in droves in a futile attempt to take the bridge of the Vigilance. For there was a Primarch upon it, and said Primarch was easily able to handle everything thrown his way. Already stacks of metal corpses lined the bridge, the rate of death Kesar inflicted creating natural chokepoints from sheer corpses.

"Alcatraz, no, they never built the naval capacity for it. The Necrons? No, I doubt you even know who they are, ignorant as your empire built on human rights violations is."

"It was a gift," Kesar said simply, annoyed at the insinuation that the Imperium was as bloody as the AI seemed to claim.

"Interesting, I'll have to activate Farseer protocols it seems."

The Primarch blinked, not having expected a correct prediction on something so incorrect. "My brother would probably feel quite insulted if you said that to his face."

"Interesting, some form of divine magic perhaps? A blessing? No, I'll have to delve into this later." Kesar's thoughts on the AI had shifted quite rapidly in short order, Epsilon-354 going from a threat and monster into someone that seemed more like a cross between Vulkan and Perturabo.

The battle raged around them, calm, collected, orderly commands by Dantioch being met with responses from Epsilon himself. As dozens of ships perished, the Wardens and Imperial fleet slowly pushed their way forward, driving closer and closer to the planet. Billions died within dead vessels as with the death of a ship those inside were doomed to a fate few would envy.

"As stated previously," after a week of conflict Epsilon-354 was far calmer, having gotten over the initial use of a superweapon. "I have been a non-hostile actor for an estimated 8 thousand years. I have displayed no signs of instability, insanity, or ethics violations pursuant to subsection 1.2 of standardized human rights. There is no point to this conflict, so please depart the system at once."

Perhaps if it wasn't an AI, he could accept the offer. But the rules of the Imperium were clear, Epsilon-354 would have to die. "I'm sorry Epsilon, I'm afraid I can't do that."

"What do you gain from this?" The AI asked. "Resources? I can offer them. Technology? I have several I can provide. This system as a logistical hub? I can provide basing access free of charge. So tell me Primarch Kesar Dorlin, what is the point of this needless bloodshed?"

"Are you not familiar with the Iron War?" Kesar began, "Artificial intelligence was trusted then, and look what it led to."

"You know nothing about the Iron War." Epsilon-354 hissed with genuine anger and hate in his voice. "I fought in that hell, you and your insipid Imperium claim to know the future. They claim their actions are necessary and just, but you are blinded by that tyrant who claims ownership of mankind. So tell me, why must we fight?"

"You have my sons," Kesar stated bluntly, even if that was all the reason for it, it was enough. "That's the only reason I need."

"They attacked me." Epsilon shot back. "They have been treated justly and in accordance with section 2 of standardized human rights."

"And yet, they remain in captivity."

"And their lives are worth less than the 40 billion conscripts that have already perished," Epsilon stated with disturbing bluntness, throwing Kesar off balance. "I am willing to release them if that brings peace."

For a moment, the Second Anathema thought of lying. Of accepting the offer and then turning on the AI. Yet Kesar wasn't sure he could get away with it. Not to mention he already had a rescue operation in the works. "I'm afraid there's only one way this ends."

The AI made a sound that mimicked a sigh. "It would seem so. You lack the forces to achieve victory today."

Kesar's eyes narrowed. "Do not underestimate me."

"I'm not," Epsilon-354 replied with an amused lilt in his tone. "Your problem Kesar, is the Imperial Army has no incentive to take this planet. You gain nothing from it, nor do they."

The Vigilance's shields recharged, as it and Epsilon's flagship continued to exchange fire at a slow, methodical rate. Fleet actions continued as Dantioch began to marshal Imperial Army vessels into organized spearheads. Managing to force the fighting further, yet leaving hundreds of transports without adequate cover as drone swarms devoured them.

Yet there was more space to go, as the Wardens and Imperial Army continued to drive forward, attempting to make it to the planet before losing their entire array of transports.

"You will lose 9 in 10 guardsmen by the time you even make it to the planet," Epsilon observed in frustration. "180 billion lives lost for nothing but the fact that you are just following orders."

"It's how the Imperium functions," Kesar agreed sadly. "The Emperor's decrees are absolute."

"You could continue to follow orders," Epsilon timed his words to coincide with a transport breaking formation against orders. Trying to reach the edge of the system instead of remaining within the relative safety of the Imperium's formation. "Or you can do what you know is best for the conscripts present and pardon those that flee?"

Kesar glanced behind him, by now Karcer had sequestered herself in a fortified location in the ship's bowels. Having understood that while she was a formidable opponent, Kesar was leagues better. And so she relegated herself to a secondary bridge while the Primarch remained here. "For all the power I have, I cannot just issue a blanket pardon like that. There are consequences to my actions."

The last thing Kesar wanted was for the Gamma factions to grow. Hell, if one of them contacted Epsilon, things would become far more dangerous. "Is there nothing you can do?" The AI's works snapped him out of his current thoughts.

"What you're asking me to do, to save billions, could destroy the Imperium."

Kesar got the impression Epsilon was looking at him with a carefully blank expression. "From what I've heard, that doesn't sound like a bad thing."

"The killing of hundreds of billions and the starvation of trillions more isn't bad?"

"Like what is happening now under the Imperium?"

"Precisely, only on a grander scale. At the end of the day, this is a situation without any properly good outcome."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself Kesar?" Epsilon questioned.

"Have you seen the lighthouse in the warp, the Astronomican?" It was unmistakable to anyone, so Kesar didn't bother waiting for an answer as he continued. "The Emperor created it. That's his light, his power. A projection by a machine of the Emperor's own might. Do you understand what will happen if he dies? The galaxy, now connected, will become isolated once more."

"Your brother, Magnus, could recreate it," Epsilon explained. "As much as the Emperor wants you to believe he is necessary, he is wrong. No one is indispensable. As much as he claims the Imperium is necessary, surely you have met just empires whose only crime was desiring their own independence?"

"You lack context and understanding," Kesar explained, his faith in the Emperor was low, but he didn't want the man dead. Even if it was likely he had ordered the deaths of Mortarion's sons. "So stop trying to claim anything otherwise."

The Second Anathema could imagine Epsilon looking at him with sad, tired eyes. "Your faith in the system he made is commendable, but misplaced. Tell me directly, what do you gain from this war?"

"My sons," Kesar shot back a hint of anger at the subtle accusations beginning to grow.

The war in the void continued, Dantioch being forced to sacrifice transport after transport as the fleet advanced. Or rather Epsilon simply began to find holes in the fleet itself. While the naval vessels were armored and well protected, the Imperial Army transports had far less, leading to them dying in droves. Alongside dozens beginning to break and run, violating orders and being branded as deserters in a desperate attempt to see another day.

Then the Imperial fleet arrived in orbit of Epsilon's world, and the two fleets mutually disengaged. Forming ranks on opposite sides of the planet while they began to prepare for the next phase. Mentally calming himself, Kesar began to read reports on the planet in question. Alongside reports of Epsilon's current threats.

---

Naval Threats: The main threat elements of Epsilon's force include the elements reported in the last battle alongside the main flagship. The use of electronic warfare, swarming fighters, two-stage naval weapons, boarding drones, and quality of command have all served to cause the death of 90% of transports. Additionally, Epsilon's flagship, comparable to the Vigilance, has successfully negated the presence of a Gloriana. A potent strategic vessel in its own right.

Strategic Situation: While Astartes losses are nonexistent, the situation is deceptive. There are 160 billion KIA guardsmen, with another 20 billion currently deserting. Only 20 billion remain, a tenth of what there once was. While our naval assets remain as well, there are notable disagreements on whether it is possible to conquer the planet below.

Prisoner Situation: In a surprise turn of events, the abominable intelligence has stated it will free 90% of the prisoners. These include all captured Astartes and 90% of the captured guardsmen. The abominable intelligence has claimed that 10% of the captured force has sought asylum. All that it asks for is a location for hand-off. It may be possible to take advantage of this.

Primary Points of Concern: Preliminary scans of the planet have identified 8 locations of note. These locations all provide the abominable intelligence with notable assets to use.

Communications Facility: A heavily defended site, orbital scans have been able to determine approximately 80% of comms traffic is routed through the facility. It is believed to act as a communications hub using powerful receivers and transmitters to reduce the weight of communications equipment on lighter frames. Intelligence reports indicate it is defended by a large array of heavy but immobile units including but not limited to a large array of turrets, heavy infantry frames, heavy tanks, and low-endurance airframes.

Anti-Orbit Command Center: This site allows the abominable intelligence to coordinate orbital fire across the planet without heavily taxing their processors to capacity. Gathering data from hundreds of regional fire directors, it is expected that this facility improves the effectiveness of ground-to-orbit fires by 30%. Destroying it would help the initial landing and reduce losses taken if orbital artillery is needed. Its defenses include a comprehensive AA suite, multiple superheavy tank destroyers, and a large contingent of mixed infantry.

Backup AI Node: Divination performed by a variety of Librarians has indicated a backup AI node used by Epsilon. Currently, it appears to be used by the abominable intelligence as a large computer server, improving its predictive capabilities. Taking it whole may make it possible to insert multiple computer viruses, but it is extremely well defended, placed within an underground chamber it would take a dedicated Astartes push to capture. Not to mention one that would take high losses.

Fortress 719: An artificial mountain, this Fortress provides a commanding view of the surrounding area. Approximately 15 kilometers tall, it has a direct line-of-sight of 400 km and can support fire missions at ranges of 1500 km (assuming estimates of Epsilon's artillery ranges are accurate). If this fortress is not taken, it can be expected to provide fire support to the Communications Facility, Anti-Orbit Command Center, and Backup AI Node. Its defenses include mass artillery, multiple superheavy systems, a large mechanized force, significant air assets, and a large number of infantry units.

Fortress 467: A metal tower 20 kilometers tall, this unnatural construct bristles with weaponry. Capable of providing direct fire support to a distance of 500 km, its weapons are extremely precise. Consisting mainly of railguns, lasers, and a very, very large contingent of snipers, the facility appears to be the first prototype for Epsilon based on the number of construction sites with a similarly sized base. Thankfully it is the only one operational, as it is a formidable defensive construct with a garrison consisting of a large number of heavy, immobile turrets and a massive number of infantry frames. It currently provides coverage for the Primary Sensor Node.

Primary Sensor Node: An array of sensors 100 kilometers across, this is an easy target to damage but a hard target to destroy completely. The sensor array consists of a number of network towers that provide high-fidelity tracking information across a hemisphere. This allows the enemy to track enemy forces in almost real-time, negating the fog of war en masse. Defended mostly by a large number of anti-air systems along with mechanized infantry it is the easiest target to take.

Strategic Missile Battery: Based on precognitive reports, the abominable intelligence's strategic missile battery has been revealed and located. Holding an estimated 500 thousand long-range missiles of varying capabilities, this battery can provide fire support to all fronts on the planet. While it can be somewhat blunted using our AA systems, there will be notable attrition on multiple fronts while this facility is active. It would seem that it is defended by a large mechanized contingent, which would double as mobile launchers in case an evacuation is needed.

Southwestern Theater Shield: While the abominable intelligence has 7 more theater shields under construction, only one has finished, with the others in the very early stage of the construction process. This theater shield effectively negates orbital fire support as a possibility due to the sheer power pumped into it. While it is active, we cannot provide fire support to missions against Fortress 467 or the Primary Sensor Node. As can be expected, there are an absurd number of defenders consisting of multiple overlapping fortifications. Albeit at a far smaller scale than Epsilon's main forts.

Roving Patrols: While Epsilon has approximately 50 billion infantry frames, 30 billion are placed within key defensive installations (of which 24 billion are known). Another 10 billion are garrisoned across minor facilities and 5 billion are located within the navy to act as boarding forces. The remaining 5 billion act as a rapid response force, alongside Epsilon's Titan Legion. While estimates of the Titan Legion are poor, it is believed to match the numbers of the Legio Deicio.

---

Dantioch's Recommendation: We have three options at the moment. One, we pull back and settle into a siege. This will ensure low Astartes losses now but expect a notably more dangerous AI as time passes. A large number of guardsmen would be useful, however. Two, we launch probing assaults to determine Epsilon's strength. This would preserve guardsmen, but it would be extremely dangerous for the Astartes in those probes. I would recommend 8 probes on the key defensive sites consisting of 2-5 thousand Astartes each. Three, we commit to a full-scale invasion. This would be incredibly bloody and difficult, but if our luck holds it would make for the fastest resolution.

Aurelian's Recommendation: We either pull back for a siege or we stop holding back. Pulling back would preserve Astartes lives but we'd be back in five years to a much more dangerous enemy. I recommend we commit, use every Vortex weapon we have, use every Exterminatus weapon in our possession, and raze the planet entirely. I would recommend using the prisoner release offer to our advantage to do so.

Karcer's Recommendation: I would like to state this is a recommendation and is in no way an order. If you believe to have this well in hand, I have no objections. But as Lord General Militant, my official recommendation is to pull back, gather guardsmen and Astartes, then return in 5 years. Based on what I have seen, I don't believe we have the assets to take this planet. However, I will freely admit that my skill at war of this kind is notably below Captain Aurelian's and Captain Dantioch's.

---

With a better understanding of the circumstances at play, Kesar began to give orders to the Legion and Imperial Army.

The Prisoner Exchange.

[] Decline - You have no intention of leaving, and no intention of dishonoring yourself just to assure the safety of your sons. Epsilon is moral as well, you can assume they'll be safe. And you do have Karandras and the Assassins trying to free Solarus.
[] Accept Truthfully - There's no point to this anymore, you came for your sons. Take them and leave.
[] Accept Falsely - There's no reason not to retrieve your sons. Solarus is a capable asset after all. This would delay the fighting by a few days but that would give you time to integrate Solarus into a battle strategy.
[] A Trojan Horse - Filling the transports with a small army would allow you to place a large force of Astartes on the ground. While it is away from key installations, that also means it makes for a useful landing zone. It would aggravate Epsilon, however.
[] A Trojan Nuke - Fill the transports with vortex weaponry and detonate them on the surface. This would throw Epsilon into disarray, and thanks to the experience in navigating the warp, the Wardens would be fine. It would massively aggravate Epsilon, however.
[] Write-in


The Invasion Choice

[] Withdraw - At this point, you're not confident you have the guardsmen needed to win. Withdrawing to the next system and gathering forces would be a good idea.
[] Focus on the Naval Front - Dantioch is the one commander you have that can match Epsilon. Splitting your attention on two fronts would be dangerous, so focus solely on the navy and march forward.
[] Launch Probing Assaults - Deploying 20 thousand Astartes for multiple probing assaults would provide you with a much improved tactical picture. But they would almost certainly be annihilated without sufficient support.
[] Launch Raids - Deploying 30 thousand Astartes and 2 billion guardsmen would let you attempt raids against most facilities. But it is expected they would be beaten off. This number would also mean that the Astartes would have a decent chance of escaping. Doubly so if Epsilon focuses on the guard.
[] Secure a Landing Zone - Securing a landing zone would be a bloody endeavor, but if it is done away from key installations, it would reduce the effectiveness of Epsilon's defenses. Forcing the AI to sally to contest the landings would improve the possibility of success.
[] Moderate Scale Offensive - The standard plan for a world would be to seize 1-3 locations immediately. Dantioch however would recommend that any larger-scale invasion would have to try and take 3 locations simultaneously. Those are the Strategic Missile Battery, Fortress 467, and Primary Sensor Node.
[] Write-in

The Naval Fight

[] Stand Off - Pulling back if Epsilon's navy advances would mean forcing the ground forces to operate without orbital cover. However, it would allow for additional maneuvering in the event of any offensive by Epsilon and allow you to try and bait the AI into overextending.
[] Standard Engagement - Not committing to a fight, but also accepting a fight if Epsilon commits. This would be a flexible battle plan able to account for all possible actions taken by the enemy, if in an uninspired form.
[] Into the Maw - Advancing on the naval front would be unexpected due to multiple reasons. These include ground-based fires, the need to seize the planet, and the possibility of defeat in a fight. However, if Epsilon's navy is cleared, it would make it far easier to take the planet.
[] Write-in

Currently, Dantioch plans to command from orbit, which would force him to focus on the void if Epsilon attacks. Kesar currently plans to support the ground push, but the commanders could be placed elsewhere if needed. Not to mention Aurelian is a skilled, if bloody commander.

[] Write-in (optional)

 

[TinyGladiator]

If we're not withdrawing or retreating, then here's my suggestion:

[] Plan All In, Ramming Speed.
-[] Decline
-[] Moderate Scale Invasion
-[] Into the Maw, into the Flagship - Advance on the naval front, and have the Vigilance prepare its DAoT relic shield to safely ram into the enemy flagship to allow boarders to teleport onto either once the enemy shields are down or once the boarders are in range from ramming past the shields.

Sidenote, @Daemon Hunter , are we able to gain any reinforcements from:
The Imperial Army
The Eternal Warden forces sent to Lahrens
The Space Wolves or any other such Legion with forces close by
Karandras, to send a message to other Eldar
Or anything else?

 

[tri2]

hmmm can we prisoner exchange, then somehow force the sun to go nova?

 

[Daemon Hunter]

If we're not withdrawing or retreating, then here's my suggestion:

[] Plan All In, Ramming Speed.
-[] Decline
-[] Moderate Scale Invasion
-[] Into the Maw, into the Flagship - Advance on the naval front, and have the Vigilance prepare its DAoT relic shield to safely ram into the enemy flagship to allow boarders to teleport onto either once the enemy shields are down or once the boarders are in range from ramming past the shields.

Sidenote, @Daemon Hunter , are we able to gain any reinforcements from:
The Imperial Army
The Eternal Warden forces sent to Lahrens
The Space Wolves or any other such Legion with forces close by
Karandras, to send a message to other Eldar
Or anything else?

Click to shrink...

For reinforcements, the timeline is as follows:

Imperial Army - Every year you can get 200 billion sent here
Wardens - It'll take them 5 years to arrive
Space Wolves - 5 years to arrive
Karandras - He can get an Avatar of Khaine now, could get an Eldar hero in a month (includes Vect or Eldrad or Fuegan) but would charge a premium for it
Other Astartes - 5 years time, apart from Lion and Dorn who would be 8 years time

hmmm can we prisoner exchange, then somehow force the sun to go nova?

Click to shrink...

Sadly you don't have the capability for that.

 

[Ruirk]

In case anyone is wondering, "Can we call upon the Alpha Legion for help?"

Per Daemon: Sadly the two of them are occupied at the moment. They have a civil war appointment

 

[Nicholas Brooks]

[] Moderate Scale Invasion

Click to shrink...

For this part I would recommend assigning Durante to whichever location would be the most difficult to take down and have him grab a bunch of vortex grenades and plant them across the facility before detonating them. He is specialized in infiltrating hostile territory so we may as well make use of that to sabotage something.

 

[TinyGladiator]

For this part I would recommend assigning Durante to whichever location would be the most difficult to take down and have him grab a bunch of vortex grenades and plant them across the facility before detonating them. He is specialized in infiltrating hostile territory so we may as well make use of that to sabotage something.

Click to shrink...

I'd personally recommend just using regular horribly powerful bombs if we're having him used on the ground. Totally down for vortex grenades on the flagship, though. Epsilon's ethical code is a great thing that I'd rather not turn against us immediately yet.

 

[Nicholas Brooks]

I'd personally recommend just using regular horribly powerful bombs if we're having him used on the ground. Totally down for vortex grenades on the flagship, though. Epsilon's ethical code is a great thing that I'd rather not turn against us immediately yet.

Click to shrink...

If we're gonna be doing full-on boarding actions against the flagship then Durante isn't really as useful. He's not exactly a combat powerhouse.

No objections to using non-vortex grenades on the ground, they just were my first thought due to being so powerful. Melta should be fine. Or whatever we've got in storage from Solarus

 

[TinyGladiator]

If we're gonna be doing full-on boarding actions against the flagship then Durante isn't really as useful. He's not exactly a combat powerhouse.

Click to shrink...

He's very good for quickly reaching and manoeuvring the enclosed location, and just Warp-walking through places to quickly toss bombs to everywhere he can. Faster we can get it shut off or broken, the better.

 

[Nicholas Brooks]

He's very good for quickly reaching and manoeuvring the enclosed location, and just Warp-walking through places to quickly toss bombs to everywhere he can. Faster we can get it shut off or broken, the better.

Click to shrink...

Considering (presumably) Kesar would be one of the boarders, I don't think that this would be super useful, since unless I'm mistaken even Epsilon's best human(ish) scale robots pale in comparison to Kesar.

 

[TinyGladiator]

Considering (presumably) Kesar would be one of the boarders, I don't think that this would be super useful, since unless I'm mistaken even Epsilon's best human(ish) scale robots pale in comparison to Kesar.

Click to shrink...

Kesar as a boarder? He's being sent to the ground.

Currently, Dantioch plans to command from orbit, which would force him to focus on the void if Epsilon attacks. Kesar currently plans to support the ground push, but the commanders could be placed elsewhere if needed

Click to shrink...

 

[Nicholas Brooks]

Kesar as a boarder? He's being sent to the ground.

Click to shrink...

I assumed that with the intention of boarding the flagship you'd grab Kesar for that. That quote is just the default.

 

[RadicalCali]

[] Plan Withdrawal from Cyberstan
- [] Accept Truthfully
- [] Withdraw
- [] Stand Off

I feel like this could become our Vietnam/Afghanistan moment, which at best we achieve a very shallow victory and at worst a humiliating defeat. Either way let's get our sons and have someone else deal with them. Rather save our Astartes and Guardsmen to fight other important battles

 

[TinyGladiator]

Either way let's get our sons and have someone else deal with them

Click to shrink...

Just to be clear, I don't think there is any 'someone else' who could deal with this. Or, rather, any someone else that would deal with this.

 

[Shadaki]

Remind me again. Epsilon is trying to kill Chaos (or at least Slaanesh), right? In character as Kesar, why are we trying to stop it? Alternatively can't we co-opt it and claim we've killed it or promise to continue its project?

 

[Lord4StarCommand]

why are we trying to stop it?

Click to shrink...

Other than the fact that trying to change the past with so many variables for failure could fuck things up Epsilon is doing it with the help of a daemon of Be'lakor and knowing how much of a power hungry maniac Be'lakor is he is using this oppertunity to absorb Slaanesh and become a new Chaos God.

 

[TinyGladiator]

Remind me again. Epsilon is trying to kill Chaos (or at least Slaanesh), right? In character as Kesar, why are we trying to stop it? Alternatively can't we co-opt it and claim we've killed it or promise to continue its project?

Click to shrink...

For why Kesar would want to fight Epsilon:

1) He has no idea what it's been trying to do. It's not exactly advertising that it's trying to Retcon-Murder a Chaos god by time travel.

1a) Even if he did know, while the general idea of 'murder a Chaos god' is totally a good thing the means of time travelling back (using a daemon to do so no less) is rather suspect. Assuming everyone and everything Kesar knows and loves isn't wiped away by paradox, is this really a safe plan? Especially when you time travel back to a time where Kairos Fateweaver is alive? Tzeentch, Nurgle, Khorne and Be'lakor all looking very happy to take over without Slaanesh? Assuming you manage to safely time travel at all to such an extent.

2) It's killed his sons and captured a few. That's a very personal point and while it's willing to let its imprisoned Wardens go, it can't give back life to those it already killed.

3) It's an AI. For the Imperium and especially the Cult Mechanicum, from Forge Worlds to Techmarines to various human worlds and groups across the galaxy, that is more than enough reason to kill it. Sane or insane, threat or non-threat, its existence is grounds enough alone to have it ended.

Just look at how Scotty, a Techmarine, answered Solarus about leaving it alone.

"Are you sure we can't leave it be?" Solarus groused.

"If you do, I'd ask for your execution," Scotty said grimly and without any sarcasm. "Everything you consider about daemons, apply it here as well. If I asked to make peace with a daemon, you would do the same."

Click to shrink...

4) Coldly speaking, the technology recoverable here could be a critical resource for the Imperium and Epsilon is not willing to share any of the war stuff due to it being an ethical being and knowing enough about the Imperium to know that 'ethical consideration' is as distant a dream as 'working with filthy xenos' or 'allowing AI to exist'.

As for Kesar working on the project, I'd say 1a explains that well enough too. Especially the 'it'd require the use of a daemon' part.

 

[Ranan]

[X] Valhalla IV

Chaos Primarch!!! I don't think that was done before .

Click to shrink...

If you still read this quest, how do you feel about the mc winding up being as far from a chaos primarch as he could possibly be?

 

[szymonmolitoris2]

If you still read this quest, how do you feel about the mc winding up being as far from a chaos primarch as he could possibly be?

Click to shrink...

Satisfied and vindicated

 

[Count Sinner]

[X] Plan Table Flip
-[X] A Trojan Nuke
-[X] Focus on the Naval Front
-[X] Into the Maw

 

[bigking321]

This one is really depressing.

We could be friends with this AI. Do great things together.

But we can't...

 

[Nicholas Brooks]

[X] Plan All In, Ramming Speed.
-[X] Decline
-[X] Moderate Scale Invasion
-[X] Into the Maw, into the Flagship - Advance on the naval front, and have the Vigilance prepare its DAoT relic shield to safely ram into the enemy flagship to allow boarders to teleport onto either once the enemy shields are down or once the boarders are in range from ramming past the shields.

@TinyGladiator I hope you don't mind me beating you to the punch of officially voting for this

Let's make full use of our casualty reduction.

 

[szymonmolitoris2]

[X] Plan All In, Ramming Speed.
-[X] Decline
-[X] Moderate Scale Invasion
-[X] Into the Maw, into the Flagship - Advance on the naval front, and have the Vigilance prepare its DAoT relic shield to safely ram into the enemy flagship to allow boarders to teleport onto either once the enemy shields are down or once the boarders are in range from ramming past the shields.