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DUNGEON OVERVIEW

The Bastion Stair

Official Information from EA Mythic

The Bastion Stair is more than just a passage between the mortal world and the realm of Khorne, the Blood God. It is a major Khornite bastion, and the site of the Rift of Rage, a powerful Chaos Portal whose power is growing, threatening to inundate the World of Warhammer with corrupting winds of magic. Intrepid adventurers from the forces of Order wish to capture this portal to put a stop to its destructive influence; the dark factions of Destruction want its power for themselves. However, all who mean to tamper with the Rift of Rage must face the horrifying Bloodthirster known as The Spineripper!

Quote from Liber Khorne (by the Black Library):

I fell then, through charnel clouds and red mists that swirled about a land of dark ruin and much despair. The cries of some enormous beasts, their lowings of fear and desperation, reached my ears. And still I fell, driven now by fetid winds, towards a wall or cliff of deepest red and blackened iron. Its top was hidden in the clouds far above, its base was grit with boulders and skulls, no larger in my sight than sand specks, that it piled piled before its inexorable advance. The wall, for such it was, lay unbroken in its awful perfection from horizon to horizon.

I grew afraid, for this was the Outer Realm of Khorne, the Blood God, and this wall his Bastion, the Fortress about the Inner Lands. It now seemed to me that the stench of Death broke my fall as I flew onwards, towards fresh visions of this vast corner of Chaos.

And then ahead I saw a Stair, surrounded by pinnacles and columns and arches of blood and carven bone, circled by Daemons bound within black iron, brazen steps and hideous shrieking mouths. All that could speak or gibber vomited forth the praises of Khorne and shrieked out songs of Blood and Death. The Stair, its treads never built for mortal feet, climbed the dizzy heights, pausing at times before profane runes and stained sacrifice stones. Within the very fabric of the Daemon-thronged Bastion were smaller landings, each of which could have held a lofty and noble palace of our small World. The Stair twisted and rippled on itself, its Daemons chuckling their insane glee at its dreadful geometry. Still it climbed, ever upwards into the clouds of gore that circled overhead.

In all my vision, I saw not one living beast or man.

Through brazen gates and up endless steps I flew, my soul in dread as Daemons snapped at my heels. And before my eyes, as I rose from that place, I beheld the Fields and Meadows of Khorne beyond the Bastion, all quite soaked in red, stained with souls, and planted with endless lines of corpses lashed to their stakes like a grotesquery of bean plants. A thousand thousand Daemons cavorted with their dead and deathless buds, which were watered by gore-filled aquaducts and ditches. The Daemons marched and countermarched about their charges, stopping here to water the unprecious fruits, and there to dung upon them. And the air was filled with the taste of blood, the stench of the slaughterhouse, the noise of blood let from countless unready throats and all about was red beneath the brass sky of that Inner Realm…

-Liber Malefic, The Book of Hated Khorne, Marius Hollseher-