The emissary of the Warmaster had arrived. It was a small and rather pathetic-looking creature; it's body an indistinct mass of flesh and steel machinery wrapped in bright red robes. It's hood obscured a face made of metal and bare bone. Moving through the command compound, it exuded an aura of grotesque authority so powerful that the unshakable traitor space marines it passed pressed themselves against the wall in avoidance.
Zungarz had known this devil among devils would arrive. The success of the traitors at gaining control of the vast production facilities of Xhorik Prime would mean that the Warmaster's eye would be upon them and that the future of the war would start here. The Warmaster was pushing his grand plans forward and would need the industry of Xhorik Prime to provide tanks and ships to carry his dire vision to Terra. The war against the loyalists was not as one-sided elsewhere. Gripping his emblem of Khorne, Zurgarz hurried towards the main chamber, eager to have his audience with the one who spoke for the great Horus.
The herald of Horus was easy to spot despite its short stature. Only the venerable Death Guard terminators, whose minds were likely too rotten to comprehend fear, could stand in the creature's presence. The other marines in the room kept a generous distance. As he approached, Zungarz felt a strong repulsion towards the red-clad figure, an invisible force pushing him away. However, his single-minded desire for glory and recognition gave him a will of iron. The World Eaters chaplain marched fearlessly forward to join in the whispered conversation. Breaking off a hushed sentence, the emissary turned to fix its glowing red eyes on him.
"Who is this man who presumes himself worthy to approach me?" the being of twisted wires and flesh growled. "I am here to speak to Praetor Wolfgang, not his subordinate."
Zungarz felt a flash of anger at the insult. Wolfgang was dead or at least nearly so. He had been gunned down by loyalist plasma gunners before Zungarz's very eyes. From his position atop the tallest tower at the center of the battlefield, he had witnessed his commander fall before the torrent of lethal energy blasts released by White Scars emerging from a drop ship and one of his Deathscythe bodyguards carry his body away after the battle. That single powerful retainer had sliced an enemy officer in half with his fearsome scythe and also destroyed the last two members of a bike squadron with another masterly swing. By the law of Khorne, that retainer was the new master of the Death Guard, having slain the foes that killed his former Praetor. By doing what his master could not, he had proven his right to command, as well as Wolfgang's unworthiness.
Zungarz, on the other hand, had carved a bloody path through his enemies to plant the flag of the traitor army after tearing down the loyalists' banner. By the days' end, he and his Hell Hounds stood knee-deep in the dead, the corpses of their enemies piled atop one another. He never took a single step back. It was only running out of enemies to kill that finally halted his rampage.
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| Zungarz and his Hell Hounds hold the tower and protect the traitor standard from a terminator of the Ebon Keshig of the White Scars. |