All across the field battle raged. Earth was churned beneath the iron shod wheels of steam-chariots and soaked with the blood of men. Flames of iridescent colours licked out from fingertips and staffs just as the booming reports of cannon returned the tide of death. Yet in the centre of the field there was a most odd phenomenon. Silence.
Men and machines formed a circle, all thoughts of killing each other forgotten as they stared at the two figures at its centre. Two generals, their mounts discarded stood opposite one another. One a staunch follower of Sigmar, and the other a loyal son of the Empire.
‘You can’t be serious’ Captain Richter Husken. Master of the Reiskguard, answerable only to Kurt Hellborg, the Reiksmarshall himself, stood proud, the midday sun glinting from his polished plate. His voice was booming, his manner bombastic. Here, clearly, was a man accustomed to having others follow his orders. His opponents defiance made his moustache twitch.
‘You don’t know me very well Captain Husken, I am always serious’ Julius Denisof spat the words from his soot stained mouth. No armour adorned his bony form, no weapons hung from his belt. And yet Julius could feel the Captain’s fear at the edge of his perception.
‘You’re actions here will not go unpunished heretic. May Sigmar strike you down for your arrogance’
‘Hubris is not my failing captain. Sigmar has blessed me with foresight. I am his puppet and am blessed with the knowledge that everything I do is for the greater glory of him and his Empire’
Husken was dumbfounded. The heresies he had heard spew from the engineers mouth were unthinkable. That Sigmar would choose him as an emissary of death for the Empire. Madness. ‘We are at war, man. There are no troops to spare to fight off internal politics. Surrender now or you will be the doom of the empire’
‘Then so be it’
‘You would let the Empire burn?’
Julius took a step forward and lowered his voice accordingly. A barely visible glint lit up his eyes. ‘Captain Husken, if my god commands it, I would let the galaxy burn’
Without warning Julius’ fist drew back. It lit up with ochre flames and in less than a second, he drove it through Husken’s laurel-wreathed helm, and into his head.