Night Lords

The bridge of the "Murder of Crows" is bathed in vivid green glow from the holographic display in the centre of the bridge, currently rotating silently in place as a slew of pointless data scrolls down the side of the planet it depicts, which is in essence just another ball of dirt crawling with mindless sycophantic drones, one of the countless the Imperium is comprised of.

I have lead raids against so many such worlds, and have never paid heed to anything of its climate or current season or what ever else the cogitators like to spew up. No such world ever rates interesting or important enough for me to recall their names, but this one has a dirty little secret, currently shown on the now paused display as an angry red pulse under what seems a population hot spot.

This campaign should prove worthy of remembrance for millennia to come, so on this occasion I make the effort to remember its designation - Vogen.

Unfortunately Vogen's secret had seen fit to broadcast it's existence across the sector. The "Murder" has been on station at the system's fringe for only a few days, having spent a week tracking the disturbance, a task which claimed the lives of several navigators, which was further fuel for my already raging intrigue. Their deaths were not quiet, nor painless - polar opposite to that in fact, as evidenced by the resultant clean up which continues even now.

But track it we did, but we were neither the first, nor the last, to do so. Sensors have picked up activity from seemingly every sentient warp faring species in the universe, including of course the ever pitifully pious Astartes and even some of Abaddon's own lap dogs. The latter makes sense as sources indicate this relic is one of Abaddon's own toys, buried here as he fell back from yet another failed crusade.

I have no love for Daemons, just as I have no love for Abaddon. But I do so love the fear that radiates from a populace under daemonic assault. It's a pure and primal fear that is like no other. It's multi faceted as they face not just death but confirmation of greater beings, of their true insignificance, of the true nature of the warp dimension, and of their mind being torn apart as viscerally as their flesh. The realisation that their Emperor can protect no one from nothing. The fear is felt with every synapse and fibre, and it never lets up, even in death.

It is intoxicating.

It is addictive.

And it has been too long since I last experienced it.

But the warp fuelled tide of carnage that will wash over this system should that gateway open will be sure to generate will leave worlds beyond count awash with such fear - enough to sate even the most depraved and deviant amongst us for centuries to come.

So of course I want to be a part of this campaign. It beckons to me, indeed my whole warband. It's allure is strong, its promises of vengeance and glory too appealing to resist. The chance to settle long borne scores against the Imperium's guard dogs only sweetens the deal.

But patience for now - let these fools rush in and deplete their ranks fighting on every flank. When the nights draw in, we will strike from the shadows, hitting them when they are weakest, breaking them, mind first, then body. And when they are cowering, weeping for it to finally be over, they will be sacrificed to the portal, feeding the very thing they seek to control. Their final breathe will drawn in the knowledge that they were instrumental in the genesis of genocide to follow.

Oh how delicious it will be!

### Campaign History

Landing Zone:

The Night Lords landed unopposed in the Mercantile and Pleasure Zones. They were contacted by a Black Legion warlord and asked to join him. But what The Nameless, Leader of the Night Lords, did not know, was that this also brought him into line with Daemonkin and Orks!

The alliance was rife with infighting and

Turn 1:

With the Dark Angels near by and eyeing up the Spaceport much as we were, the Night Lords sallied out to meet them and take the territory from their grip.

However, due to reasons unknown, or through sheer fear, the Dark Angels never arrived, leaving the Night Lords to claim the Space Port unattested.

By this time, the Khornite Dameonkin had uncovered a Daemonblade, and offered it for use by one of us as a sign of allegiance. The Ork immediately stepped forward, his magpie instincts kicking in with force. Sensing a great danger should the Ork be given a daemon blade, The Nameless, Lord of the Night Lords, requested it so that it could be stored safetly away. But Un'Trogg, the Ork leftenutz got annoyed by the Night Lords, so he issued Un'Troggs Challenge.

It was however a quick battle, for after some initial pot shots at each other to test each other's armour, The Nameless swooped in, and in a single round of combat diced up Un'Trogg with his Dire Paragon Blade.

The daemonblade was no in the safest hands, and for falling so easily, the Ork bent a knee and vowed fealty to the Night Lords for one round, offering to attack a target at the Night Lord's direction, a decision he would promptly regret, for the Night Lords had determined that this alliance was an abomindation - renegades, daemons and xenos in such open and willing an alliance. Something had to be done...

The Orks were ordered to attack the Dark Angels, hold up on Gibbet hill, but to do so they would need to pass through the now Night Lord controlled Space Port....

Turn 2:

The trap was sprung, and the Forces of Damnation were thrown into chaos :-p

The Orks dutifully advanced towards Gibbet Hill, only to be stopped by the Night Lords, who had broken from the bonds of allegiance and ambushed the Orks.

To further compound the Orks problems, a small detachment of Night Lords had also moved against Snipers Alley, the Orks main stronghold, where it turned out an Eldar Assault was also taking place.

It was a three way battle on the Orks own turf - should be interesting to see whether or not the Eldar and Night Lords can play nice whilst facing a common enemy.

Any with this treacherous attacks issued, the the complete surprise of all members of the Forces of Damnation, the Night Lords sent the following comes to all the Orks, Daemonkin and Black Legion alike:

*"To those that consider themselves Champions of Damnation....*

I have witnessed your squabbling and lack of direction and it sickens me.

These SAMCRO dare think themselves worthy of alignment with true Legionnaires, when they fraternise not only with warp borne abominations, but with xeno filth too.

Such an alliance is the foulest I have ever had the misfortune to witness and sickens me to my core, which is saying something given my Legion's activities.

A lesson must be taught, and I shall start with the lowest amongst you - the greenskin horde. I have already lain your leader low with out so much as a raised heart rate or heavy breath, and I shall visit this same surgical and clinical death upon the rest of his horde.

Next comes the daemons, who have no place in this realm.

Then comes the renegade warband SAMCRO... The biggest disappointment of any Legion since Gulliman turned his back on Terra all those millennia ago...

So learn to fear when the sun rides low and night draws in, for with it I draw my blade and will hunt you all, one by one..."

This would come to be dubbed "The Great Betrayal", and heralded a seismic shift in the battle lines as the Night Lords went independent and declared war on their three former, if short lived, allies.

But as the Forces of Damnation tried to save face and recover, even calling upon reinforcements from the Crimson Slaughter, there was far more to come, and they would never see it coming...