The End Times | Bride of Khaine

Tullaris did not reply. He remembered the Drakirite he had killed in the streets. Her eyes had shone with the light of fanaticism, the fervour of a true believer. The skull’s last words haunted him. Could Hellebron really fall to the Ruinous Powers? Could her lust for murder be turned to darker purposes? He tried to dismiss the thought.

‘The Rhana Dandra,’ Hellebron spat dismissively. ‘Ancient legend and nothing more. Come, Tullaris. I have been idle too long. It is time that these barbarians discovered the true majesty of the God of Murder.’

She turned back to him and in her eyes was the same look as the Drakirite. It was familiar, and welcome, and filled Tullaris with a potent mix of emotions. But beneath the look was something else. Something he had never seen in her before. It looked like disdain, and it made him want to prove himself, to show her that he was not weak. He gripped the First Draich tightly and swung it in a figure of eight.

‘Yes, my queen,’ he growled. ‘Let us get you some clothes and a weapon and we will take back our city.’