A CRIMSON SLAUGHTER OVERTURE

Upon the ravaged plains of sector, where twisted metal stretches to the horizon, a symphony of destruction unfurls. The Slaughtered Few marches, a tide of unyielding steel. Each step thunders with the rhythm of warfare, a macabre rite to their barbaric ideals. {Their banners flap like the wings of nightmares, each bearing the {grimmark of a blade.