Lord Celestant Cadeyrn Battle-King strode purposefully down the highest hall of the citadel known as Heaven's Beacon. The floor and ceiling were covered in gleaming mosaics made from all manner of precious gems. The walls were great banks of windows allowing an unparalleled view of the surrounding lands. Heaven's Beacon towered over the city it guarded, the Iron Spire. This was Cadeyrn's domain, for he was the Lord Commander to one of the God-King Sigmar's own Stormhosts and ruler of this city. Clad in his gleaming steel colored sigmarite war plate with a deep blue cloak trailing behind him and his stormbound blade, Dealanaich at his hip; Cadeyrn was walking at this moment to a council of his chieftains, the other Lord Celestants under his command.
As he walked, Cadeyrn considered the nature of his champions. First was Emmerich the Mighty, lord of the Redemption Warrior Chamber. He was a steady soul, not easily swayed to haste or caution. It was Emmerich's booming voice and the thunderous roars of his Dracoth that inspired his warriors to hold their ground against any foe. Next was Belzagar Brightsword, lord of the Absolution Exemplar Chamber. Belzagar was by far the most patient of the stormhost's leaders, and his warriors shared his temperament. The hulking paladins of Belzagar's chamber formed unbreakable walls of sigmarite that made for the perfect anvil in battle. Commanding the Vindication Harbinger Chamber was Aglaran the Glorious. A fiery soul with an unmatched passion for battle, Aglaran loved swift and decisive action. He and his warriors always sought to close with their foes as swiftly as possible. Last but not least was Lord Aquilor Gimilzagar Starsword, who commanded the Salvation Vanguard Auxiliary Chamber. By far the cleverest of his fellow commanders, Gimilzagar's forces were the light that struck to the very heart of even the darkest enemy schemes and strongholds. Cadeyrn himself led the Deliverance Extremis Chamber when in battle from the back of his own Stardrake, Pharazon the Golden, his mounted warriors becoming a living storm that sweeps their foes from the face of the realms.
While a mighty assemblage of champions, they were few in number. This is because their stormhost, the Scions of Redemption, was also few in number. It was in fact the smallest of all the stormhosts. This was a result of their shared unique origins. In their previous lives, Cadeyrn and each of his warriors had been servants of the dark gods. Struck down in battle by the holy hammer of Sigmar himself, Ghal Maraz, their souls had been sent to High Azyr for judgment. Most souls failed such judgment and were sent on to Nagash where a terrible fate awaited them. But those few who Sigmar judged redeemable were sent to the Anvil of Apotheosis. Cadeyrn remembered it all so well. He had once been a powerful and brutal king in the realm of Hysh. His warriors had numbered in the tens of thousands, destroyed dozens of other kingdoms, and raised innumerable monuments to their dark patron the Blood God Khorne. Early in the Realmgate Wars, the Astral Templars had come to Cadeyrn's lands. The battle had been long and brutal, but Cadeyrn was on the verge of victory. That was when the Celestant-Prime came. Sigmar's greatest champion had smashed aside Cadeyrn's mightiest knights with ease and even Cadeyrn himself had been no match for the angelic warrior. He remembered a blinding flash of blue light. Then he was there before the God-King. The majesty of that moment was difficult to describe. In his true form Sigmar was a living constellation. His strength was the raw might of the stars themselves. Sigmar was the first storm and the last, his very being blazing with light and power such that he revealed to very few. Cadeyrn had been taken by the God-King to the Anvil of Apotheosis where he would be reforged. The agony of that experience was immense, but such had been necessary. Now Cadeyrn's soul was purified and purpose set. He strove harder than all others to see the works of the dark gods he once served undone, for Cadeyrn and his warriors knew better than all others the true consequences of failure.
As he neared the end of the hall, Cadeyrn let his musings come to an end. He had work to do. Marching up a flight of polished marble steps, Cadeyrn emerged onto the highest point of his fortress. It was an open platform thirty meters across. The stars of Azyr gleamed overhead, the Iron Spire sprawled about below, and the verdant landscapes of Ghyran lay all around. A silver plinth was at the center of the platform. It had been enchanted by white mages so that it would project an image of any map Cadeyrn desired to see into the air before him. Beside the plinth stood Emmerich and Belzagar. They seemed to be discussing how best to combine their chambers into a single shield wall. Gimilzagar stood by the platforms edge where he could watch the landscapes below as the city slowly passed them by. Aglaran was pacing back and forth impatiently.
At his arrival the others turned and saluted their Lord Commander. "News from Azyr?" asked the ever impatient Aglaran. Cadeyrn addressed his champions, "The God-King has need of us. There is a land where Chaos, Death, and Destruction are running rampant and our allies are sorely pressed," Cadeyrn replied. "The Scions of Redemption shall go to their aid." Emmerich spoke next. "How many of us are going?" "All of us my friend and a dozen regiments of the city guard." "That is more than one hundred thousand men! Are so many truly needed?" "From what the God-King told me I believe it is." With a simple gesture Cadeyrn summoned the image of a map from the plinth. "The great spire near the center of the region must be seized first. From there we shall be able to strike at any place and foe we wish." "It will also make an ideal rallying point for any allies we have in the region," pointed out Belzagar. "As long as we don't stay there too long," replied Aglaran. Cadeyrn spoke before an argument could break out, "We shall rid this land of the dark forces that threaten it. We will not fail the God-King. Go to your warriors and make them ready." As the others turned to go, the usually quiet Gimilzagar spoke, "Does this land we are to save have a name?" "Yes, it is called Hirestel."
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