Story

Log 5 - The Central Plains, The Shadowed Hills

Grida watched in awe as the conflict below them unfolded. Hurk, sitting besides her, was impressed too. Both of them have known war, have fought in ones, but this was a completely different beast. Though the principles remained the same, the scale of destruction and combatants on both sides was beyond comprehension for the two locals. It was swift and brutal, the black warriors, who seemed so imposing and unmoveable just an hour ago, were cut like weed by the green tide.

"We must continue dear, or lest we share their fate," Hurk urged his wife remembering the prophecy.

Soon, they were on their way again, getting ever closer to the ominous hill on the horizon and as they walked, the sounds of the victorious monsters behind them grew more and more quiet.

...

Hurk suddenly opened his eyes and then closed them slowly again, relieved that it was all just a dream. He opened them again and looked at the sky - it was empty save for the familiar stars. He spent some time staring at them, waiting for one of them to move and get bigger and bigger until he would see it's ugly sneer and it would devour the world. But nothing happens. He sat up and thought about it. How was that connected to his previous visions? Or was it perchance yet another calamity waiting to engulf his world?

Log 4 - The Central Plains

Hurk twisted and tossed about, propelled by the dream he was having. Grida watched him anxiously. He was hers and she was his, bound by vow and fate. It was her duty to look after him as it was his to look after her - a task that was getting ever more difficult in the later days as Hurk was dealing with matters no other leader had to deal with. Not since the Coming and the Split.

She embraced him and spoke softly to calm him down. He relaxed and for a moment or two looked at peace. Then he opened his eyes.

"There's a way. Just before the end, there is a way!"

She knew better than to interrupt and simply gently stroke his hair as he lay there staring at the dark roof of their hut.

"I've missed it before, because it was tiny or so it seemed, but now I've seen it. A great event is unfolding. Two strive to achieve it, three will stand in their way. One is still uncertain."

She watched knowing the importance of those word yet understanding them not. "Will this way save us?" she asked quietly.

He smiled lightly, "I do not know. It may save us, or it may doom us. I am no seer. I have been blessed by a vision but I lack the knowledge to know its meaning."

"Then we must find the one who will. You know who that is." He simply nodded, not liking the prospect but understanding its necessity. "I will prepare some food for the trip. Is the whole tribe coming?"

"I believe it should be just me," he said with a little uncertainty in his voice.

"The enemies are all around, there is strength in numbers."

"One travels faster and less visibly than a group," he countered.

"If it was just his fate then maybe, but this is about us all," the words had power behind them, something telling him the conversation was over. Hurk nodded again and smiled at his loyal wife.

Log 3 - The Central Plains

Hurk nodded as he received the news and sent the messenger away. Both rival chieftains agreed to his proposal. It was time to get ready. He called for his warriors and dressed into his punchab. It was splendid and immaculate. Not a single hole or tear. Of course it was spattered in blood, but never his blood. Hurk, the untouched, left his tent and prepared for the long way up the Forefather's stone - a lone sharp-edged hill that stood like a sore thumb in the middle of the great plains.

He reached the summit by sunset and it was clear the others have already been there. He arrived late, as befit his rank and reputation. A circle was lit by fire and the two stood inside it, Korolis the quick and Trusk the bloodbeard. Korolis was an aging man now and Hurk knew he lightning-quick reflexes were abandoning him if they hadn't done that already. It was something that he would be testing right now if the circumnstances were different. Trusk was a large man, both tall and broad with a large bushy beard as befit his name.

Not a word of greeting was spoken. Formally, they would be called equals, as all were leaders. Each one no doubt thought they were better than the others. Husk knew only he was right.

Husk was the first to break the silence, "Let's put our enmities aside and focus on the matter at hand."

"Black giants come from the south," said Korolis and looked warily in that directions.

"Black giants in the north as well," added Husk as an appreciation of the older man's willingness to share information.

"Red big men come from east... They are many ... and they seek blood," Trusk was a slow speaker, it was as if his deep voice had to take a break every now and then to catch breath.

"We must decide if we support the black or the red," Korolis said and then went on, "we will not stay on the sidelines and we will not be brushed aside!"

So that was what they though this meeting was about. A choice between two new forces that have come to their homeland. Uniting so as to present a stronger potential ally. Not a bad idea and certainly something from Korolis' head. No doubt he and Trusk had met before. Plotting. He has to be careful. Right now it seemed as if their minds were solely occupied by the new threat, yet if he ever gave them a chance... Still, they don't yet know the full layout of the game.

"Yes," he started, "they are powerful and they are here and they seem like no friends. Allying with one seems like a good idea, the shaman thinks that too and has already voiced his opinion as to who that should be. That was before the vision though." Now he had their attention.

He spread his arms and the air around them grew dark. "The warriors in black come seeking the ancient power," he gestured with his hand and dark black ooze started to spread from behind him.

"The warriors in red come reshaping the world to their liking," another gesture and drops of blood began to appear on the ground opposing the black sludge, "they hate each other and are drawn to each other."

The black was forming into a tidal wave to match the blood doing the same on the other side. Husk made two steps to stand directly between the two. He looked at the other leaders and continued, "you wish to join one of them and hope to make a good choice. If we stand with the black and the red triumphs," gesture and the red wave loomed ominiously over them all, "we are all doomed." The red diminished again. "The same works the other way," he could sense Trusk becoming restless.

"Our choice does not matter!" He announced with a boom and saw the disbelief on their faces. "We are but ants compared to these forces. Ants to be squashed as a side thought if that at all. And they - " time for the great finale, he thought as he spread his arms wide, "are but children to be swept aside by the great tidal wave of green!" A third wave appeared, green and ominous, it grew and grew until it blocked all sky and then splashed down, drowning everything in it.

"This is what we must prepare for and what we must be aware of. Now let's sit and talk." Hurk sat on a larger piece of stone and hoped they hadn't spotted how tired he was after this show. The night would be very long indeed.

Log 2 - A hilly region somewhere on Garavon Prime

It was a nice day. Finally. Many days of rain and finally some sun. He liked sun. Sun and warmth. The winters were cold. Too cold. He did not like them. But now it was summer. Summers are warm and sunny. But sometimes, summers are rainy too. He liked rain too. But only short rains. They bring life. Too much rain is not good. That's why he liked the rain stopped. The fields will bear fruits soon. With luck and blessing from the gods, they will be enough for the winter. It's hard to find food in winter. Always so hard. With the end of winter, they will sacrifice to the gods too. A great feast. He liked it. Warm food, warm weather and warm bed too. He looked at the hills far away, lost in thoughts, eyes closed.

Then came the horrid sound. Too loud, too bright. A star was falling. He praised the gods. His tribe will have good luck. But this star was other. It was falling too slowly. And too close. The sound got louder. It started to hurt and so he covered his ears. The star was big. It was coming right at him. He started to run, still holding his hands to his ears. He tripped and fell.

As he rolled on his back and looked up, he saw more of those stars. They were falling everywhere and he suddenly recognized them. They were the ships from the prophecy he thought was just a fairy-tale. They were coming. He started to run but this time his fear was replaced by determination. He must get his tribe ready.

Log 1 - Far East

It has been millennia since the world went to sleep. Most left, some closed themselves off in hidden underground tombs and some stood guard. The universe has changed drastically, the Eldar conquered the whole galaxy, then it was the human’s turn and now it seems another change is on the horizon with the fleets of the Great Devourer closing in.

Garavon has changed too. Wildlife returned to the surface, species almost extinct at one point evolved and spread over most of the continents. There were new sentient inhabitants too. A few thousand years ago a spaceship damaged beyond salvation by its latest warp-jump appeared in orbit and its crew, desperate for survival, made their way to the surface. Few remember their origin though, having fallen to a tribal way of life. Garavon was not the worst planet to be stranded on. The climate was mostly mild and the fauna and flora not too antithetical to human life forms.

That all changed, when the former masters returned. It began with the sky turning dark in the far east, where the endless deserts lay. Lightning flashed and thunder raged yet no rain fell that night. The humans huddled in their primitive huts or caves and looked in awe and fear and the festival of light that played on the horizon praying to their gods for salvation. When morning came, the world seemed to have returned to normal.

In the depths of the great Garavonian desert, things were different though. Hundreds upon hundreds of newly arrived Necrons stood in the searing sun, motionless, ready. A few grains of sand slowly rolled down from the top of a dune; when more and more joined them it became clear it was not the wind that did that. It was time for reunion and then … conquest.