Day Off - Only for Primarchs

Day Off, but Only for Primarchs

"I hadn't expected you to be here as well, but—hello, Mortarion."

Corax spoke softly. His pale face was hidden between shadows and black hair. He blinked, seeming a little surprised.

The Lord of Ravens stood on the deck of the Night Lords' current temporary flagship, the Midnight Howl. Silently slipping past the Night Lords patrolling with their guns in hand, he made his way with practiced ease to Konrad's private chamber.

"Clearly, the Lord of Death is very interested in our next journey, enough to hold his nose and come here to mock me."

A lazy voice, steeped in ridicule and arrogance, came from behind a long sofa of black satin. Looking at the back of the couch, Corax could not see Konrad. The Bat was evidently lying atop it.

"If that is how you explain my scant patience with you, Konrad, then I would not mind letting your face meet the deck again."

Another sharp, caustic voice sounded. Mortarion sat in a single armchair behind a small carved bone table covered in star maps, tapping the tabletop with his fingers.

The two primarchs, finally approved for deployment beyond the war zone, had immediately fled their offices on Terra—and now stood before Corax aboard the Midnight Howl.

Corax took a few breaths before choosing a quiet corner and sitting down. Konrad's private chamber was not filthy and mad like its owner. Quite the opposite: it was impeccably clean and comfortable.

The years he had spent working under Malcador, and the years in Commorragh, had perhaps taught Konrad the bad habit of enjoying himself.

And because the Night Lords maintained close ties with the Assassinorum, whenever important figures were silenced, the Night Lords would casually pocket a portion of their wealth—

This was not greed