Across the galaxy millions of parents tell children 'there are no real monsters', but there are. Foul xenos, vile daemon spawn and most terrible of all the enemy within. Dark hearted men threaten to destroy the allfathers realm as their evil ambition leads them to consort with dark powers.
Millions of soldiers stand ready to defend the Imperium, but some enemies are too horrible to face and break the minds of lesser men. Thanks be to the emperor for the astartes then, for they shall know no fear; but what if they did.......
There are no wolves on Fenris, yet the wolves of Fenris stand ready to do what they must. Through millenia the wolves have fought the darkest foes of mankind, as unyielding as their task is unending and yet this eternal war has had its casualties; against body mind and soul. The saga of the dark tide then is a tale of true horror, of the darkest malfaecarum.
The tale begins when the world of Anchora was brought low by a drifting space hulk, the enormous mass of interconnected ancient flotsam and jetsam broke from the warp on a direct course for the sacred world. Anchora made ready her defenses, this was no mere agri world; nor even a centre for the imperial guard. Anchora was a sacred bastion world of the administratum, thousands of battle sisters from the adepta soriatas protected her and her most valuable secrets.
But these heroines of mankind were no match for the dark foes that spilled from the dreaded hulk. After the hulk had collided with the plannet Vile psykers tainted by daemon kind spewed forth. Sorcerous rituals rent space and maleficarum crept in, the millions of human lives wer lost; dead or defiled and a gateway to the warp began to transform the world.
Anchora was once a safe house of the Imperium, a bastion that protected a most sacred artifact; a tool said to have been used by the Allfather to create the astartes. This artifact could not be left in darkness, who knows what horrors could follow should the great enemy learn any of the Allfathers secrets of genescience.
The Great Wolf Logan Grimnar despatched a small band of warriors, all that could be spared for such a fools errand and there was little hope of success as the world had already fallen. But if any could succeed it would be the wolves of Fenris. The journey to Anchora was a calm before the storm, the drop to the surface however was hellish, dark magics split the sky foul energies created unnatural storms; the thunderhawks crashed many many miles from the target. As the wolves clambered from the wreckage the true fate of Anchora became apparent, twisted and tortured this once beatific world had become a foul home for daemons. The march was slow, battle relentless; enemies leapt from every shadow and battle seemed to never cease. For a hundred days the wolves marched on grim and focused, each day another brother was lost to the dark tide.
When the pack; for they were all bonded as one by the relentless bloodshed, finally reached there destination despair was all they could find. The artifact had been blackened and defiled by the tainted sorcerers and the world had already been claimed by the ruinous powers. The last of the wolves saw only one option, the power generators had been left intact; setting charges while their brothers dueled with daemons the wolves destroyed the ancient keep killing the psykers and collapsing the gateway they had created to the warp. Anchora was lost to mankind, but at the very least it was denied to the enemy.
By the end just four wolves remained; the once wolf lord Gundarr Vorrik, brother Aver Durri, brother Hanish Tur and Iron priest Drunnok Ffarn. Upon their return to the Fang the Great Wolf could see the horror they had witnessed in their haunted eyes, but he had use for them again. Now the saga continues as Gundarr leads his pack and those few others who have witnessed too much horror, but have a will to fight in them still. For only the sons of Fenris have a will to fight when all others strength would have failed them and death would have found them and interred them with eternal rest.
