Dark Heresy- Burn the Heretic

Black Hole Sun

Gabriel Chase Manse,13th Hour

The crescendo of clocks synchronizing towards the minutes and seconds of the Steel Clock was deafening, even among the din of the assembled revelers. Over the last hours, I witnessed the sun slowly being eaten by shadow, then the toll of the 13th hour struck and I could tell a most unholy transfiguration was taking place in the skies above, but I dared not look, and warned others as well, as it was just as described by the mad Inquisitor Guiller in his rantings. The Steel Clock’s own towering form grew more substantial , and we suspected the center piece hanging amid the cogs and gears to be the key towards defeating the cult of Hayte and their aspirations to bring ruin upon Quaddis. We approached it cautiously as before, but with more determination brought about by events around us. Chaos then reigned as the crowd erupted in a storm of frenzied violence, many bathed in the unlight unexpectedly succumbing to the madness of the Tyrant Star. Words were hurled from the direction of the Steel Clock, and I could see the Heron Mask, that apostle of Hayte, goading the Widower to reveal himself. Then, the one in the Jackal Mask, whom we had hunted throughout the manse, parted the crowd, approached the Steel Clock and revealed himself – a horrid monster of nightmarish form and shifting substance. Hidden among the panicked crowd and entering the chamber were the Pilgrims, and they came to blanket the guests in terror and blood. As my comrades braved climbing the Clock, grenades rocked the fleeing throng, followed by random sprays of gunfire. As I secured our escape route though the mayhem should things go badly, I saw Lady Melowa fall and tended to her and my comrades. Meanwhile, the Windower ran rampant, slaying Pilgrim after Pilgrim with claw and fang of its ephemeral yet impregnable form – earning it’s name. I could not find purchase to mount the clock to assist in the melee ensuing between Hayte’s leader, but I could tell that the Widower would have no issue with this. Where it, in its formidable state, to join the desperate battle atop the clock, I knew that all would be lost. I directed Vipus, an elderly noble who had given us some assistance, to help me bring down that beast, or at least slow it down to buy those above us time. He, displaying the trait of a true servant of Our Emperor, rare among the gathered, paid the ultimate price and was swiftly dispatched by the unrelenting Widower approaching the Clock. On that floor, slick with Vipus’s blood, I called to the monster, taunting it that the black star above us would drown in the Emperor’s Light by my very own hand. It glared at me with it’s many unnatural orbs, and I knew I had forfeited my life with those words. I ran…away from the Clock….past other Pilgrims, who failed to mark it with bullets…and it followed until it was upon me. I could feel the wind of a huge, sweeping claw pass across my back. Then a blast rocked me forward and I was sprayed with offal of the remains of what was just a second ago the Widower. I turned and saw that the Clock was sundered into a million pieces, my comrades scattered about and near death. The only thing remaining of that blasphemous creature lay upon the debris behind me, a skin composed of the contorted face of the Widower, it’s twisted mouth mewling and spewing forth riddling nonsense…or perhaps undisclosed secrets of it’s Haarlock master. Just as quickly as it fell on us above, the black sun, the dreaded Komus, the Tyrant Star, that I have heard of in the ramblings of a madman, faded away to reveal the parting of shadow and sun and the end of the Revel of Darkness.

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