Kronak, awakens.   The crack of Azyrite thunder in the distance - was it a dream.  Then twice more.  The distinct sound he hadn’t heard for a millennium.  Not like the barbaric imitation heard in this realm, the realm of beasts.  More still.  There can be no doubt.

Kronak ascends the roughly carved steps to the mountain peak where his decrepit tower stands.  At the top of the tower, he turns his enormous looking glass in the direction of the storm.  It creaks from disuse.  He sees teal clad warriors at the base of the storm.  They look like the humans of this world but larger and much better armed.  To his surprise he sees the symbols of the usurper of Azyr.  The traitor that drove Kronak and his kin from their home.  The way to Azyr has been closed for so long. How could this be?  Sigmar only exists in this land as long distorted fables of some of the local human tribes.  These warriors are not local.

Kronak continues to watch as these children of Sigmar trek across the plain.  He knows nothing of Thostos Bladestorm or his quest.  He cares not what they do, only how he can get home.  As they attack the fortress held by forces loyal to the absent god Khorne, nothings stirs in him to help.  The useless gods that he pledged to so many years ago to extend his own life.  Where were they when he was driven from his homeland.  Then he senses it.  The realmgate the fortress was built around is open.  He watches as the forces of Sigmar and Khorne slaughter each other. 

Time passes slowly for him as he contemplates the meaning of this arrival and the activation of the realmgate.   Years pass as a being for whom time has no meaning contemplates the possibilities.  By the time he completes his contemplation, the fortress is loosely manned by these so-called celestial vindicators.  They don’t know the meaning of vindication.  Soon they will learn about retribution.

“Awaken my brothers and sisters.  The path home is clear.”