The day of Judgement was upon them. Clearly, the Templars could witness its arrival with the cold white streaks of the meteor showers as they impacted upon Vulkaris.
Anathema. With all the battles fought in Vulkaris, the creation of the Citadel, the most important trial yet lay before them.
They marched across the Fields of Flesh surrounding the Citadel of Metamorphosis.
Remnants of Clan Pestilens attackers, fused together, fused with the ground in gruesome displays of the mutating capabilities of the Citadel. Many of them were still alive. Some even more alive than before.
The Clans Pestilens knew the Templars would come after them. They had probably been warned. Xshaeta and Isthubar had heard rumors about an agent of the Pox Triumphant in Vulkaris.
But that was the least of their worries right now.
There was a massive amount of Nullstone in Vulkaris, and it threatened not only to undo the work they had done here, but also to be distributed beyond the borders of Vulkaris.
In the minds of the Templars of Our Burning Saviour, much of the lands of Vulkaris was corrupted.
This was nowhere more obvious and undeniable as within the Red Forest near the former Realmgate to Ghyran. Not only had the vile rot of Clan Pestilens taken hold within the woods, but the fragments of Nullstone had corrupted it further, up to the destruction of the realmgate to Ghyran.
As Xshaeta the Observant and Isthubar the Steadfast entered the Forest with the core of their troops, cutting their way through in the direction of the Slekit spire that rose from the forest like a misshapen corrupted hive of insects, the Tzaangor recruits accompanying them set the growths of rot aflame and purged all the Nullstone they encountered, guided by a Tzaangor Shaman who, led by visions, had joined them with his tribe after the creation of the Citadel of Metamorphosis.
More and more Tzaangors made the journey from the realmgate to the citadel, and theirs was a critical mission indeed – to protect the citadel, the Realmgate, and to lend assistance in the defense of Vexshik Spire.
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The two-headed Tzaangor though led them through the forest, unrelenting in their path.
Hordes of rats of Clan Pestilens hid inside the forest, laying ambushes and traps. Scores of plague monks threw themselves against the Templars recklessly, their masters whipping them into a frenzy to slow the Templar advance.
With the Arcane so weakened, it was the time of the Blade.
Xshaeta’s axe and Isthubar’s flail feasted well on the blood of the Skaven, and the death and righteous fury made their weapons sing Songs of Glory and Zeal, as they slaughtered their attackers.
In the end, the plague monk’s efforts proved fruitless, and the Templars continued their march towards the Spire, burning down and destroying every trace of corruption they came across on their way, leaving a Path of Ash in their wake.
