It was rumoured that some of the Hill Clans still kept to the old daemon-worshipping practices from the time before the
Emperor's people came. If that were true, it was up to the Marines to take action.
Somehow Two Heads Talking did not think it would come to that. This did not have the feel of demon worshippers, although there was a taint in the air that was akin to it. An almost recognisable horror clawed at his mind. He fought it down and hoped that his suspicions were not true.
The city reared above the plain like a soot-grimed leviathan. Cloud Runner spotted it before the others and ordered Lame Bear to land the dropship in a valley. out of sight of its walls. From the brow of the hill. he studied it through magnoculars. It was an ugly place that reminded him of the hiveworlds he had visited. It covered many miles and was enclosed by monolithic walls. Great smokestacks loomed in the distance, belching acrid chemical clouds into the greyish sky.
Outside the walls, the river ran black with poisons. As Cloud Runner watched. he saw herd elk being driven squealing from barges toward great abattoirs within the walls. From huge stone barracks, people swarmed through the streets towards enormous, brick factories. Smog drifted everywhere, occasionally obscuring the grimy city and its teeming inhabitants. "That is where Lame Bear's metal axe came from." Said Two Heads Talking, lowering himself to the ground beside Cloud Runner. "I wonder who built it?"
"It's a nightmare," murmured Cloud Runner. "We return home to find our lodges ravaged and this ... abomination in its place." "That city must hold all the clans of all the peoples of the Plains and ten times more besides. Could our folk have been enslaved and taken there, Brother Captain?" Cloud Runner remained silent, considering. "If they have been, then we will go down with flamer and storm bolter and free them." "We must know more before we act. We could be outnumbered and trapped," replied the Shaman. "I say we go in with weapons armed," said Weasel-Fierce from behind them. "If we find foes, we burn them." "Suppose they think the same? The soot and filth give the place an Orkish look." said Lame Bear. He had been scouting further along the crest. "No Ork ever put stone on stone like that." countered Two Heads Talking. "That is human workmanship." "It is not the work of the People." said Cloud Runner.
"Those barracks are a hundred times the size of a lodgehouse and built of brick." "There is only one way to find out anything." said Two Heads Talking. "One of us must visit the city."
The warriors nodded assent. Each tapped a scar-tattoo to indicate that he volunteered. Two Heads Talking shook his head. "I must go. The spirits will shield me." Cloud Runner saw the rest of the warriors look at him to see what his decision would be. As Captain. he could overrule the Librarian. He looked at the city, then at the Shaman standing quiet and proud before him. A sensation of emptiness, of futility came over him. His people, his village had gone.
"As you wish. Lord Shaman. Speak to the spirits and seek their aid." he said, giving the ancient ritual answer. "Bloody Moon's squad will remain here to watch over you. The rest of us will take Deathwing and seek out any surviving lodgetowns."
Night fell as Two Heads Talking completed his preparations. He laid the four rune etched skulls of his predecessors on the ground about him. Each faced one of the cardinal points of the compass and watched over an approach from the spirit realm.
He lit a small bonfire in the deep hollow, cast a handful of herbs on the fire and breathed in deeply. He touched the ceremonial winged skull on his chest-piece and then the death's head inlaid on his belt. Lastly, he prayed to the Emperor, tamer of thunderbirds and beacon of the soul path, to watch over him as he made magic. Then he began to chant.