Transcript retrieved from the heretical writings of Gol, detailing the conversation between the Chaos Lord Sarados and his subordinates following the infamous Day of Green Blood, wherein the Orks of the southern continent were utterly crushed.

When the sun fell, the Orks lay dead in droves. Their green corpses were charred black from the cleansing fire of our Hellhounds. Here and there an Ork would stir, fumbling for his crude axe before being offered up to Khorne by one of our champions. I saw one Ork nob attempt to flee, only to be gutted alive by Caine and his Marines. His Dread Majesty Julian pronounced that that day would be forever known as the Day of Green Blood. While the False Emperor sleeps, the Gods of Chaos proved the truth of their words and freed Malathor from the grip of the Ork as they had promised.

During the celebrations, I saw a ship land amidst the camp. Caine and his Marines met it, bent on one knee in their power armour. A great figure emerged, grasping a staff that swirled with the power of the warp in his right hand. This was a man I knew only from whisper and rumour. The great architect, Sarados, the Captain of Alpharius himself. Dozens of worlds lay at his feet, but to try to discover his motives is akin to looking into the face of Tzeentch himself. At his side were those two great men of legend, Morax and Zharesh. As the Gods are my witness, to see such power gathered together in one place nearly overwhelmed my senses.

"Where is it?"

Caine rose to his feet and handed the Sorcerer Lord a bound tome. "My Lord, the Tome of Zi'srel is yours."

"Excellent," said Sarados, clasping it in his hands. Even beneath the cover of his ancient helm, I could tell that Sarados was jubilant. "At long last, our journey is nearly at end, brothers."

"I would disagree," said Morax, that mountain-like man, "The Orks were a simple matter... But I shall remind you all that the Loyalists are still gathering force in our own backyard. We would not do well to neglect them."

"No," said Zharesh, "It is not just Marines, my Lord. You have certainly detected the presence of the Inquisitor by now. His name is Alastor and I knew him once... he is the man who would have condemned me and I am eager to repay the favour. But make no mistake: He is quite resourceful. "

Sarados' eyes did not leave the book, but his voice was strong: "I have not searched and strived for this long to be foiled by a fledgling Chapter and a petty Inquisitor. The Oathkeepers have two paths open to them... they may either march underneath my banner and bring glory to the Dark Gods or die namelessly. For now, the Gods have given us their favour. We must begin the final stage as soon as possible."

"So be it," said Morax, crossing his arms.

"And let extend my compliments to you, Brother Caine, for your deeds here today," Sarados declared, raising a hand towards his still-kneeling champion, "Khorne himself must have smiled down upon these fields."

"I live but to serve," Caine answered, "Oh, and lest I forget: Julian requests an audience."

The Sorcerer Lord snorted: "Do you think I have time to waste on your pet Governor, Caine?"

"No. But I did promise him I'd ask," he answered with a smirk, "As for the Governor, he has been steadily losing Combat Patrols in the north. The Marines are almost certainly plotting an attack."

"Tell your Governor that if he cannot hold the frontier then perhaps he is not worthy of the grace the Gods have bestowed upon him. Oh, and tell him to clear away the Ork corpses. The stench of them disgusts me," Sarados laughed to himself and hefted the tome, "Now, if you will excuse me, I am eager to study my prize. Take heart, brothers... for our day shall soon come."