Editing Kharn (section)

==Record from the Scions of Darkness==
''Recorder:'' Dark Magos Wilhelman

In all the years I've been with this Tzeentchan warband, few things could prepare me for the sight that awaited me on Vasiria Secondus. Our Lord and his contingent of Sorcerers were preparing a great ritual, one that would pull the world into a massive warp-storm, and leaving the world ours to pillage, to conquer, and fortify. The planet's local PDF proved wholly incapable of stopping us, but were proving nonetheless irksome, with protracted artillery barrages from their Griffons keeping both our marines and machinery bunkered down behind cover, lest they be caught in the path of an oncoming round.

In 2 days of steady bombardment, our Lord apparently had lost his patience with the Guardsmen, and instructed his cabal of Sorcerers to continue a ritual to bring forth a tide of Daemons. The Sorcerers began work immediately in the confines of a shattered basilica of the false Emperor, and after nearly a day of sonorous chanting, the ritual began to bear fruit as a yawning rift in real-space began to open...

...And then, it happened. A bellowing scream issued forth from the fledgling daemon-gate, and echoed coldly in our ears.

'''BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!'''

And there he was.

Tearing himself from the rift was a red-clad, gore-covered warrior, roaring chainaxe in hand, cackling in manic glee as he landed on the basilica's cracked marble floor. The cultist troops of our lord opened fire on the Khornate as he charged forward, their Autoguns pattering off his armor. Stepping forth was my Lord, who drew his Daemonblade, green warp-fire engulfing its surface as he readied to face down this crimson-armored menace, when, inexplicably, the Khornate marine paused, turned towards the Sorcerers who were now backing away, and charged forth again, leaping into the midst and sending them clattering to the floor. Reaching down, the Berserker grabbed for the Sorcerer's force staves, gathering them up under one arm and charging up the stairs, before kicking open the basilica's reinforced door and running out into the streets, laughing with riotous glee.

We heard screams, lasfire, and explosions. And then... Silence.

The Sorcerers slowly collected themselves, and the cultists moved to reinforce the door. Hours passed, and we slowly emerged from the basilica to find that the PDF was no more, every single one of the Sorcerers' force staves were thrust firmly into the engine block of each and every artillery vehicle. Scores of men lay dead from the subsequent explosions. We only learned later from Brother Panthus, a Raptor Champion, that Khârn had apparently delivered these killing blows by walking up on the ridge, and throwing the staves really, ''really'' hard. After killing the Guardsmen, he moved forward to continue a rampage into the city, slaughtering several landing members of the [[White Scars]] who were helping evacuate the civilians.

It was the first time I had ever seen my Lord in a state of stunned silence. It was [[just as planned]], but for reasons not even the Sorcerers of Tzeentch had expected. A dark chuckle rang out from my Lord as he crossed his arms and overlooked the carnage.

''"Hell of a guy, that Khârn."''