Chronicles of the Venaktor Nox


The bones of the ship groan around me. I watch the stars drift as we begin moving, pulling away from Kalixus, our wounds healed and weapons restored. 3rd Claw has been reforged in blood and honour, lead by Silic’eth, formerly of the XIIth. There are whispers of doubt. Some feel that he is impure, while others question his loyalties. I suspect many are already working against him, and Silic’eth may have to prove himself many times over before he gains the respect he deserves.

We are joined by many of our sister ships. The vox crackles and voices spill from it. I hear Tor’vek greeting our brothers, telling them of the war to come. He speaks of the Warmaster and the Long War, promising glories and blood, honour and skulls.

Verrek hums softly nearby. It eases the hate machines spite, he tells me when I ask. Our fleet lights up the void. Light crackles, and reality is ripped apart. Pain blossoms behind my eyes and in my skull. The glass is slowly hidden behind thick metal plates, hiding the pain light spilling from the wound in space. I watch until the very last, seeing our ships sail into madness.

We are entering the Warp. Towards another battle. The Long War continues. +