TheDornianHeresyThe Historyand Legacy
laidanath was dying; poisoned and ravaged by the DeathGuard.
It shouldn‟t have been this way.
The Farseer had been there at her birth; seeding the ball of rock withlife. He had watched the Maiden-World of Elaidanath mature over the millennia into a verdant paradise; a place of peace and unparalleled beauty. That was, until the arrival of the Death Guard. He had foreseen the threat too late to avert it, with only a smallgroup of his companions from the Em'brathar Craftworld arrivingbefore the webway portals succumbed. Thus, trapped on the doomed planet, they had done what little they could against the Plague Marines, but it was clearly a lost cause. Animals lay bloated and glassy-eyed, awaiting the end; the once-great forests were reduced toendless swathes of slime-coated tree trunks. The only creatures to
flourish were Nurgle‟s favoured pets; the flies and maggots, but eventhat wouldn‟t last. Elaidanath was rapidly returning
to the lifelessrock it had once been. It was such a pointless waste.With the eastern horizon lightening from black to a deep bruise-
purple, Exarch D‟Larha signalled for them to seek shelter during the
daylight hours in nearby caves. Even before the warriors had declared the refuge safe, the Farseer had slumped down wearily inthe entrance of the cave. He was tired, worn thin by his wounds, age,and the heartbreak of what he had witnessed. Within seconds, he had settled into a fitful, febrile sleep.This fate was wrong. Not just that of his companions, or even of thisworld; the whole galaxy had taken a wrong turn, with The RuinousPowers corrupting everything they touched. His thoughts went back,
investigating what could have been… It shouldn‟t be this way… It needn‟t be this way… If only he could change things, find a different,better path…
Rather than detaching his consciousness to search the possible futures, he felt himself being pushed back; moving into the past. Hetraced the strands of history back further and further, feeling thealternate universes flowing together, with even the tiniest choicecausing a division, innumerable streams joining and flowing into thesea of time. From his view outside of history, the mon-
was the greatest confluence; the place where a single choice could have changed the course of history so profoundly. He searched for astrand where the Death Guard and their ilk had never turned toChaos; for a path where this wrong fate, both on this planet and inthe wider galaxy, could be averted. Before he could find his utopia, a dark presence slammed him back into the time-stream, forcing him down into a brutal and twisted