The tent was filled with the scritch-scratch of a quill writing on parchment. Tol Daroq, Dark Apostle of the Bloodied Scroll Host, sat on his throne with a massive tome held open before him on the back of a servant. He dipped his quill in the skull of a cultist. He was making annotations and additions to his copy of the Holy tome penned by his thrice blessed primarch, Lorgar Aurelian.

The whine of servo-motors shattered the Dark Apostle’s concentration a moment before the massive form of his loyal Coryphaus threw back the tent flap. Tol Daroq held up a forestalling finger as he finished scratching one final phrase into the Book of Lorgar.

“Before you speak I think it best to remind you that I was not to be disturbed. You interrupt the ritual with your interminable pestering. If you do not have a valid reason for your presence I will flay the flesh from your bones and gift your skull to almighty Kharnath.”

The Coryphaus said nothing as his countenance grew stormy at the affront his Dark Apostle had just given him. He raised one massive arm and tossed a bundle at Tol Daroq’s feet. The object rolled a few feet before coming to rest at the Dark Apostle’s armored boots. The glossy lenses of a Mark VII helmet stared into the Word Bearer’s eyes as blood seeped from the severed head into the priceless carpet.

The Dark Apostle narrowed his eyes and hissed a single word, “Loyalists…”

He held out his arm and his Accursed Crozius flew into it as the Word Bearer leader snapped into motion. He donned his ornate warhelm and told Sor Malqon, +Inform Kereqor. Unleash the hounds. We have guests to entertain.+