Editing Story:Warhammer 60K: The Age of Dusk (section)

==Additional Background Section 19: The Tales of The Phoenix Lords [Part Two]==

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Maugan Ra, the Harvester of Souls; Lord of the Dark Reapers Aspect. 
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Maugan Ra entrenched himself in the heart of the western galaxy during this time of strife and terror. Much like the Reaper, he was death in physical form. Anyone foolish enough to enter the systems bordering the ancient dead world of Stormvald were never seen again; Ra destroyed them, and his gloomy grandeur drew more and more Dark Reapers to his cause. The planet of Stormvald was a world of airless skies, and ossified remains, as far as the eyes could see. Some bodies were of men and aliens slain in recent years. Most were the bones of long dead monsters, some larger than titans even in their deathly repose. Some claimed that these were the bones of a flight of dragons destroyed by the master of death. In many ways they are correct, I suppose.

Yet, he was not the only Eldar battling in the twisted western marches of the galaxy. Lingering in the nightmarish shores of the eye of terror, the beleaguered craftworld Altansar lingered. To look upon it was to look upon a tragic site. It was a craftworld in ruin; its towers were smashed in several places, while fires and destruction tainted many of its gardens and fortresses within. Altansar had returned to reality during M41. But ever since it had escaped the eye, its people had been pariahs among the other craftworld Eldar, and thus had not been included in the grand council’s vision of the resplendent Ynnead; in their eyes, the Eldar of Altansar were forever tainted.

Yet, ironically, it had been this craftworld which fought the most desperate and endless of garrison actions in the history of their race. The Eldar of Biel-Tan called them ‘mon-keighyana’ due to their almost human-like stubbornness. They had faced down daemonic Legions of mutated warships and vile writhing monsters. The chaos-possessed void whale Charybdis had ripped almost fifteen miles of hull from its left flank, killing a million Eldar in one evening of freezing hell. The few Imperiums still not aligned with one of the great Imperial powers of the ends would throw whole fleets of mercenaries and charlatans against Altansar, in the vain hope of stealing some valuable technology which would give them an edge. Rak’gol Marauders made raids into the craftworld only to murder and to pollute the soil of the Eldar city. Even the near-mythic K’nib were known to occasionally sharpen their claws upon Altansar’s metaphoric whetstone. All but a handful of their Webway portals remained viable for transport, and even then only the larger passages; the others were constantly besieged by opportunistic corsairs, Commorrite madmen and daemonic unlife that crawled out of the darkness between Webway and reality. 

The few non-martial paths still followed by the Eldar of Altansar were morbid figures; sculptors who only created works of screaming despair, with grasping fingers and sallow features. The few preserved parks and gardens were requisitioned by the most influential of the Eldar leadership, for their own needs. Exarch levels were dangerously high within the craftworld, and the stink of Khaine tainted the valleys, streets and cities within. The majority of the Aspect Warriors were Warp Spiders and Dark Reapers; for these two reflected the group animus of this Craftworld under siege.

They still had Farseers, but the ‘Parliament of the Potentialities’ was a coven of psykers who had been overworked to the point of mania. Yet, their guiding visions had allowed desperate fleets of Altansar vessels to attack and weaken their enemies just before they attacked. No invader was quite powerful enough to fully best Altansar, and every enemy that tried always came back bloodied and battered. Every year, Abaddon would send his newest generals to cut their teeth on Altansar. Most died, but those that didn’t learned fast, and made other worlds suffer soon enough.

Yet the Eldar of Altansar, for the most part were not monsters, as the old Craftworld civilization would have them portrayed. Most still worshiped their old gods, and looked to Khaine for defence against the Annihilator. In the highest echelons of the leadership of Altansar, there were hidden groups, rumored to be led by the Farseer Malytaes, with ties to Old Commorrite Noble Houses (and secret portals leading to the dark city), and possible links to the dreaded ‘Council of Old Follies’ (more upon these terrible beings in a later section, when I have built up the courage to depict them). However, this was the silent minority in a race of stalwart warriors.

The most notable of their invasions was also one of its last (last before the spectacular final year of M55, when men walked upon the silver skin and when nothing in the galaxy could ever be the same again...). The last great siege of Altansar was not precipitated by some dread daemon or blasphemous entity, but by two figures more deadly than either. The Wolf and the Raven; the two Primarchs of the wilderness attacked Altansar, with all the power and cunning they could muster.

They preceded their attack with dozens of smaller assaults and skirmishes across a wide area of space. The over-worked farseers struggled to define which attack was pivotal in the coming conflict. Corax led his Weregeld on raids against neighboring chaos warlords, who in turn spilled across Eldar defenses, while Russ lured enemies towards him, and made the attacks he committed look like the work of random raiders, not the coordinated ploys of a master general.

Slowly but surely, the roving bands of beasts managed to close upon Altansar with their stolen vessels, and Altansar was almost unprepared for the eventual strike which came out of the blue. 

It began with refueling ships entering the system en mass. Defensive weaponry blasted them into flaming blasts, but these blasts concealed the dagger-like form of long-dead Tychellus’ battlecruiser, as it ploughed through the gaping wound in the craftworld’s port side. The ship wrecked itself in one of the ash gardens of the upper levels, and like rain, the Wulfen descended from this high point down into Altansar’s bowels.

However, Altansar had the perfect response to terrifying close combat opponents; they fought them at range. Millions of Reaper missiles screeched into the Wulfen and wild-human allies of Russ and Corax, and once more Altansar burned with war.

Amazingly, the human forces had vehicles and guns never before seen by Eldar or possibly even the old Imperium; the Primarchs, despite their near-feral lifestyle, still had the ability and the knowledge to create weapons and war machines of such quality they were only slightly weaker than true Imperial vehicles. Those this was truly impressive, their weapons were still rather ramshackle, and the war-hardened skimmers of Altansar hunted their armor through the bone-groves with wild glee. The Aspect of the Vaunted Warhorse (an Aspect unique to Altansar, based upon the art of Falcon Grav-Tank warfare) led these hunts from their beautifully-crafted skimmers, destroying each human tank and APC with the perfect execution.

Russ and Corax were not interested in conquering Altansar. They both converged upon the Autarch’s Dome of Sapphire. Here was where the leadership of Altansar dwelt, and where the majority of their portal chambers and soulstone vaults were to be found. As The Primarchs approached, wraithguard and gliding Titans folded into their path, as the Autarch Arius the Stinging Song altered his fluid battle plan to accommodate the terrifying force of the Primarchs. Any warriors or vehicles that stood in their path were destroyed with almost casual ease, and it was only when the D-weapons of the Eldar constructs appeared that the Primarchs were forced on the defensive. They had to dodge and flee from the scouring warp weapons, lest their bodies be destroyed utterly. In the end it was Russ who bested these foes, by drawing them into the dome of crystal seers. The Titans refused to fire inside the chamber, as did the wraithguard. Russ outflanked them inside, and he climbed the titans in turn, ripping their pilots away as he howled insanely. His captured bonesword blazed with the fire of his soul, and it consumed the bodies of those it slew. Eventually, he stood atop a pile of broken wraithbone and ruined Eldar flesh. It was only when he heard the thunderous footfalls of the Avatar that he stopped his grinning, and turned to face a true foe.

Meanwhile, Corax entered the Dome of Sapphire undetected, his shadowy form slipping between the guard patrols effortlessly. When he finally revealed himself, it was only to rip the Autarch asunder, before he slew all his disciples. The farseers, despite their ethereal and aloof natures, grew truly afraid as Corax advanced upon them. Only Malytaes seemed utterly unfazed by the bestial Primarch. He merely smiled upon Corax, before he slipped from the chamber.

Lightning and psychic force blossomed across Corax, but he would not be denied. The magicks of the farseers were failing to stop the post-human demigod. Then, a flight of reaper missiles struck his flank in a catastrophic blast, flinging the Primarch away with a screech. From the rising smoke stepped ten Dark Reapers, clutching their steaming weapons with grim finality.

Russ cross blades with the blazing giant, swelling to match the metal warlord in stature as he grew more engorged with warp power. The two beings clashed like dueling gods, destroying everything in the way of their fight. The screaming spear of the Avatar met the bonesword, and their energies fought for supremacy as much as their owners did.

Altansar’s Avatar was a true monster; fed on an endless diet of death and destruction, until it was a true reflection of Khaine as the demented nightmare he had always been before Slannesh was even a dream. Wailing Doom moved faster than a man’s mind could follow, and almost faster than a Primarch’s. Suddenly, as Russ’ alien sword was turned aside, the Avatar thrust his bloody hand forwards, and grabbed the wolf king by the throat. Russ roared in pain as the fragment of Khaine turned his blood into boiled vapor in his veins, and cooked the flesh around his neck.

Slowly, Russ’s strength seemed to wane, and he was slowly hoisted into the air, before he was unceremoniously slammed into the ground with enough force to splinter the ground beneath him for forty meters in every direction. Russ made to stand, but a burning boot slammed his head into the ground once more as it stamped down. Briefly stunned, the Khaine-like abomination turned, sensing Corax.

Corax had recovered from the missile assault almost immediately, his power whip taking the heads of most of the reapers with one flick of its coils. The Avatar saw him, through all the walls and bulkheads separating them, and across the half a mile expanse between them. With an inhuman howl, it cast its spear at Corax. The blade punched through a dozen walls and wraithbone struts, before it stabbed Corax in the shoulder. The giant was more surprised than hurt, but surprise turned to alarm when the Avatar called its spear back to its hand. The weapon instantly retracted, dragging Corax back with it. When it finally returned to the statue’s grasp, it swept the blade up, and flicked Corax from the tip. He slammed to earth with similar force to Russ. Molten steel flowed from its open jaws like daemonic saliva as it hungered for further combat. 

It had become too powerful. The souls of the dying and the dead were fueling it, feeding its rampages. The wraithbone of the craftworld glowed a dull red, as if it was conducting its insanity into its own heart. Eldar across the craftworld dropped their weapons, clawing at their eyes and the eyes of their fellows as they snarled and cursed with murderous hate. Their blood thundered through their veins, until they heard naught but the rushing of it, and saw nothing but the red of the ruptured blood vessels in their eyes.

Corax and Russ realized something was wrong with the Avatar. They had to destroy it now. Together they assaulted it from multiple angles. But the creature was too powerful; it was fueled by something else, something powerful. In their minds, Russ and Corax saw images of a dismembered body, crawling back together. Viscera and intestines knitting back into a single body. A crown of steel and a hand of red.

They battled the Avatar with all their might, and eventually forced it back towards its Shrine. But with a final flare of power, the Avatar threw them backwards. It gripped its spear ever more tightly, as it growled in a hate borne of some terrible truth. Then it screamed. A burning line of blinding light raced up its torso, from its groin up to the top of its head. The line was the tip of a blade, erupting from its molten flesh. With a final hideous roar of frustration, the Avatar fell, bisected perfectly. The two halves of the statue struck the ground with dual clangs, inert and lifeless. The entire craftworld seemed to shudder, and cool.

Standing behind the fallen Avatar stood a grim figure in armor of pitch and bone, a gleaming scythe clutched in his grip. The Phoenix Lord Maugan Ra stood before them now. He was silent, and simply stared at them with a passionless skull mask. He was barely taller than a human, yet his presence equally matched that of the Primarchs. Russ and Corax’s true target and purpose upon Altansar had at last appeared.

“I thought an attack upon your homeland would draw you here. In elder days, I would have ripped the eyes from anyone foolish enough to defile Fenris. You think like a man of honor,” Russ grinned, and he loosened his joints as if preparing for a sparring match. Corax merely glared as Ra from beneath his mess of bedraggled black hair.

Russ tossed aside his bonesword, and drew the blade Ulfskarl; a blade he had fashioned for himself while in exile.

“Let us see if the sagas of your deeds are as justified as mine,” Russ stated simply, before charging towards Maugan Ra.

Maugan Ra shot him. Dozens of perfectly placed shuriken, that struck him in every one of his yet to be healed wounds from fighting the Avatar. Russ dropped as if winded, falling to his knees across the steps leading to the Shrine. Corax closed the distance more quickly than Russ, but Ra caught him with a volley from Maugetar, which caught his shoulder wound, thus causing him to flinch and narrowly miss Maugan Ra when his charge reached the Phoenix Lord. Ra stepped aside, and deflected the Raven’s power lash with a flick of his scythe. With a thunderclap of discharge, the two weapons recoiled from one another. At point blank range, Maugetar fired directly into Corax a hundred times. This was enough to stagger even the Lord of the Raven Guard, who fell back slightly.

“I like him,” Russ laughed, as he pounded his fist into the craftworld’s hull with the force of a vengeful titan. The force of the shockwave unsteadied Ra for a moment, and that was all Russ needed. He rushed the Phoenix Lord, and slammed his shoulder into him as he swept his blade around to finish the fight.

Ra rode the shoulder barge, and swayed aside to avoid the frostblade’s chilling touch. His own blade hooked behind Russ’ knee, and slashed away the tendons there. Russ backhanded Ra around the face, and the Lord was sent sprawling. Maugan rolled to his feet, his legs setting as he stood. Ignoring the immobility a normal man would have experienced, Russ too rose to his feet. 

Russ raised his sword to point at Ra. Ra in turn, had his weapon aimed squarely at Russ’ neck. Russ knew if he lunged, he would be instantly killed; decapitated by a volley of screaming shuriken. But Ra did not shoot, for Corax stood at his side, his own sidearm pressed against the Lord’s Temple. Corax had outmaneuvered him, as the raven was perfectly suited to do.

A stand-off.

Leman Russ raised his hands in a placating manner.

“This gets us nowhere. You know why we have come, Reaper,” Russ explained, and Ra knew then that Russ spoke the truth. He did know why they had come to Altansar, just to gain an audience with him.

Ra lowered his cannon, and Corax soon followed suit. Maugan Ra walked away from the Shrine’s steps, gesturing for the Primarchs to follow him. It was only then that Corax noticed that his sidearm had a shuriken lodged in its firing mechanism. Maugan Ra had already disarmed him, before he had even drawn the pistol. Russ quelled his brother’s wrath, and bade him to follow him after the Eldar warrior.

For only Maugan Ra could help them enter Commorragh. Only Ra could help them save the last surviving member of their broken family...
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