The Pontifex Campaign
Skal'Thrax the Gruesome
Warlord of the Reapers, The Black Bane
Warlord Trait: Hatred Incarnate
Unit type: Flying Monstrous Creature
Wargear: Black Sword of Dominion (Black Mace), Gift of Mutation
Special Rules: Daemon of Khorne, Fearless, Veterans of the Long War
Skal’Thrax surveyed the scene from his perch. The winged daemon prince had a curled smile upon his lips. The foul loyalists and their loved Emperor would see this world burn, like so many others before. Other insignificants also contested this world, but the burning hatred that Skal’Thrax had kept in his heart for ten millennia, was reserved for the astartes. “My lord, the troops are assembled and ready. We are anxiously awaiting your orders.” With a disdaining swipe of his clawed hand, the daemon prince dismissed his servant. “When I desire your presence, I will seek it. The troops have been ready for two hours, and yet you tell me now of the situation? Do you think me blind or warpstruck? I should have your head mounted on a pike, Karzim. You disappoint me, but you are still useful to me, so I will let you live a little longer and perhaps let the xenos get the better of you.” Karzim, dressed in power armour, stood two entire feet lower than the daemon. It was in a foul mood today. It might merely have been too long since its last kill. Skal’Thrax got itchy when the screams of dying men wasn’t heard constantly. “As you wish, my lord. I live only to serve.” The cultists had been eager to see a fullblown invasion of daemons and their ilk, and had been surprised by the arrival of the Reapers. A 400 man warband and now the cultist auxiliary numbered in untold thousands, ready to be cast upon the pyre for the daemon prince. “What are we seeking on this forsaken rock, my lord?” Skal’Thrax lifted an eyebrow. “What does it matter to you, Karzim? Are you not sufficiently informed that we must take Darron Hive? No matter, my dear pawn,. I shall tell you nonetheless. There lies a thing of power beneath us, that will grant me untold powers and if we succeed in obtaining it, I might let you receive the blessing of the gods. I do hope this is sufficient for you.” The daemon gathered his wings around him and rose to full height. There would be blood today. There would be war. “Let us walk down to the masses and let them bask in my radiance. We will bring death to the xenos today.” The daemon was still in a surly mood. No servants of the false emperor had shown themselves on this planet and therefore his unresolved anger would not be satisfied. Xenos were abundant, however, and their skulls would make a decent enough sacrifice for the unholy throne of his patron.