Content
Stories: Chronicles of the Star-Wanderers
Chaplain Verus Wolfsbane's Testament
"Why do we honor the blood of our brothers?" Verus began, his tone even and contemplative.
"Do you know why the blood of our fallen is sacred? Because in their veins runs the story of who we are," he began, his words measured, the firelight reflecting off his ancient armor. "I was preparing the gene-seed of Brother Valdis Ironfang earlier this cycle. As I performed the rites, I thought of the many brothers who have come before him, and those who will come after."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "We carry a heritage steeped in mystery. Our traits—they are neither of one kind nor another, but something unique to us. It is not for us to question the Emperor's will in shaping us. What matters is that our blood binds us, our rituals unite us, and our purpose is unwavering. Remember that, brothers. Each drop spilled strengthens the pack."
The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words pressing on them all. Then, one of the younger Wolves raised his cup, his voice filled with conviction. "To the blood of the fallen!" The others echoed the call, the toast sealing the moment.
Dominus Wolfrider's Reflection
"Do you know why the hunt always favors the pack?" Dominus asked, glancing across the gathered brothers.
"Brothers, do you know what I saw today?" he asked, leaning on the table, his tone conspiratorial. "I saw Brother Gaius Steelclaw and his pack hunt through the heretic's ship as if they were born for the void itself. Not a sound, not a signal, just the movements of hunters who knew their prey. And when they struck—" He clapped his hands sharply, startling a few younger brothers, "—it was over before the enemy could even scream."
The room chuckled, and one veteran added, "Steelclaw's pack could teach even the beasts a thing or two about hunting."
Dominus smiled but continued, his tone more serious. "But do not mistake their skill for instinct alone. It is the bond we share, the trust forged through our blood rituals and battle. We do not need to know where we come from to know who we are. Remember that, brothers. It is not the stars that define the hunter—it is the hunt."
Ancient Kalistair "The Burning Judge"
"Let me tell you about the truth of the void," Kalistair began, his ancient voice filling the room.
"Brothers," he continued, "you gather here tonight, warmed by the fire of fellowship. But never forget the cold truth of the void that awaits us beyond. We are its hunters, yes, but it has a way of hiding truths from even the most vigilant."
"Let me tell you about the truth of the void," Kalistair began, his ancient voice filling the room.
He paused, as if gathering thoughts long buried in his ancient memory. "I recall a time when we recovered fragments of knowledge aboard a drifting wreck, long abandoned. The records spoke of warriors who moved as we do, who fought as we do. Perhaps they were kin, perhaps they were something else. It matters little now. The Emperor forged us for His purpose, and that is enough."
The younger brothers listened intently, their eyes wide with wonder. One dared to ask, "But what if we find the truth, Ancient? Should we not seek it?"
Kalistair's voice rumbled with amusement. "Truth is a slippery beast, young one. Hunt it if you must, but never forget: the Emperor has already given you the only truth that matters—your duty."
High Chaplain Verus Wolfsbane's Reflection
"Raise your chalices, brothers, for a moment of silence," Verus commanded, his voice cutting through the revelry.
"Brothers! A moment of silence for those who fell today. Their blood enriches our purpose, their sacrifice strengthens our bond." As the hall quieted, Verus continued, his tone steady and contemplative.
"Each of us carries within us a part of the Chapter's legacy. The traits we share are more than mere gifts—they are our strength, our connection. Do not wonder where they come from; wonder instead how you will use them to serve the Emperor."
He set his chalice down, his eyes scanning the room. "In the silence of the void, we are guided by instincts and bonds that others do not understand. It is not for them to know. It is for us to wield. Let the mystery remain, brothers. We are hunters, not historians."
The hall erupted into cheers, the brothers pounding the table in agreement. For a moment, the weight of the day's loss was lifted, replaced by the unity that defined the Blood Wolves.
Press Play to Start