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Prologue

The great hall was silent, the assembled ranks of the honour guard stood at attention like the stone statues of former Chapter Masters that lined each of the hall’s long walls. Between the two columns of black-armoured Marines, four Marines stood in a square, their bone-white armour a stark contrast to the armour of their brethren for these were the White Ravens – most honoured of the warriors of the Raven Guard.

Standing in the centre of the white-armoured Marines was a solitary figure, his giant hands crossed across his chest and his head bowed. His face was invisible, hidden in shadow behind the slate-grey cloak he wore over his armour. Before him, the Chapter’s Master of Sanctity performed the rites of exile, waving his Crozius Arcanum around his former Commander to ward off any evil spirits and to guard him against temptation and corruption during the Marine’s self-imposed exile.

“The rites are complete Brother Commander; I now declare thee The Lord Stryker…Raven in Exile…May your quest for knowledge, penitence and absolution be swift and successful that you may return to the Ravenspire and once again take up your rightful place of Chapter Master…”

The newly-anointed Stryker bowed his head respectfully and turned away. One by one, the White Ravens knelt before him – each one presenting him with an ancient piece of wargear that had been ritually maintained and blessed by the Ravenspire’s foremost Artificers and Chaplains just in case such an event ever occurred. First was a belt of fine black leather attached to which were a pair of Plasma Pistol holsters. The pistols themselves were expertly crafted, and Stryker was assured, less likely to overheat than the weapons created by lesser artificers. Next was the two-handed sword Deliverer once used by Corax himself, entrusted to Stryker as his search for the lost Primarch began. Third to be presented was an ancient Jump Pack, the turbines and thrust nozzles expertly maintained and recently polished – the bronzed metal glinting in the half-light. The three standing White Ravens helped the former Chapter Master disconnect his own Power Pack and then interface with the systems of the Jump Pack chanting the rites of activation as they did so.

The last White Raven stood; his head bowed and offered Stryker a long rectangular box. Opening it, Stryker could see a brass control rod with many red runes lining the sides. The White Raven straightened his back and motioned to the rod.

“That is the activation rune for your new vessel my Lord…we have modified a Thunderhawk for your purposes…may it guide you to your destination and return you again safely…”

Stryker nodded his head in thanks, before turning and walking slowly towards the large doors at the end of the hall. He knew that the moment they closed behind him, there would probably be no coming back…

“Personal Log Entry, Day Seven-Seven One in the Year One Hundred and Seven in the immortal Emperor’s Thirty-First Millennium…

I have sinned…I have committed a grievous sin and as such, I have exiled myself from my Chapter…”

Stryker rose from the chair in his sleeping cell and began to pace, he had shed his armour and stood clad head to toe in a simple black robe. Long strands of black hair flowed from underneath the hood and his black eyes betrayed a sign of grief that few people would truly understand.

“In the midst of the enemy, I let my anger consume me and now the blood of my own kin is on my hands…”

The Night Lords were surrounding them, the valiant push for the Battle Barge’s Command Deck had left the two Raven Guard officers detached from their brethren, cut off, alone and staring death in the face. One of the traitor marines stepped forward; his armour sheathed in writhing arcs of lightning and extended his hand to the two marines.

“We are not unalike you and I…we both fight to rid the universe of the impure…join is and together we will once again fight as brothers!”

Stryker’s companion Lexinatus moved forward but his path was blocked by Stryker’s outstretched arm. The older officer took a step forward, his left hand tightly clutching an ornate power sword gifted to him after the horror of Isstvan V. The hand guard was crafted from cold and obsidian, on one side was a Raven’s head – sombre and mysterious, while the other side was a snarling Salamander’s head breathing fire – fierce and deadly.

“We do not stand with traitors…surrender now and your passing shall be swift and painless!”

The assembled Night Lords laughed and their representative shook his head.

“The Sons of Corax are as single-minded as normal…tell me Raven…why is it that your lord locked himself away in your dank tower? Is it because he regretted choosing the losing side? Or was he praying to our lords to allow his worthless fledglings to join the true power in the universe? I even wonder if…”

The heretic never finished his sentence, in one swift and fluid motion Stryker’s sword flashed out of its scabbard and clove the traitor’s helmeted head from his shoulders. The body clattered to the floor with a crash of thunder and a flash as the lightning covering the dead traitor’s body jumped to the closest conductors.

With a cry of rage, the Night Lords attacked the two Ravens as one. Standing back to back, the two battle brothers hacked and slashed with their power weapons, blasting away with their bolt pistols. Heads exploded under high-calibre bolt rounds, and limbs were cleaved by crackling energy blades.

Stryker was lost to it, driven to anger much the same as a Blood Angel experienced by the Chaos marine’s words. He fought without fear of pain or death, without remorse that he might never see the Ravenspire again. His entire purpose was to kill and keep killing until the very last traitor and heretic on the vessel lay dead at his feet. When the last screams of the dead and dying abated Stryker raised his eyes to the ceiling and screamed in anger for he knew that despite the marines who strewn around the Bridge there would always be more.

“Brother?”

Stryker felt a hand on his shoulder and reacted instantly, the adrenaline running through his veins controlling his actions before his enhanced brain could register them. He spun around and thrust his sword at the man before him, the energy blade piercing his sternum and speared through both primary and secondary hearts. The figure before him stood wide-eyed and shocked, his mouth hanging open like a gutted fish as frothy pink liquid rose from his throat and spilled down his chin.

It was only then that Stryker realised what he had done and released the blade from his grip, jumping away from the dying marine. He watched helpless as the dying Raven sank to his knees just as the remnants of his command squad burst through the doors onto the Bridge. Stryker stepped forward and cradled his dying brother in his arms, tears streaming down his face.

“Lexinatus? Brother? What have I done?”

The other marine forced a smile, trying his best to hide the fact he was in agony.

“Do not grieve…I go now to sit beside the Emperor for the rest of time…”

Stryker closed his eyes as his brother’s last breath came and went. The squad surrounding them had their heads bowed in respect for their deceased leader who Stryker gingerly raised from the deck and carried out of the broken doorway back to the assault boat with the command squad in tow. When they had gone, the only trace of the Raven’s presence was the slaughtered Night Lords and a shattered blade bearing a Salamander and a Raven on the hilt…

“…Now I must atone for my sins…my quest is to find our Lord Corax and petition him to return to us in these dark times…if I fail, then I hope I meet and end that will be worthy of remembrance and will allow me to sit at the Emperor’s Right Hand with my brother…”

Shutting off the voice recorder, Stryker left his cell and made his way to the Thunderhawk’s cockpit where the pilot-servitor was making preparations to dock with the Imperial Vessel that would bear him on the first leg of his journey.