This is my first attempt at a story for 40K, could people please give constructive advise to help me improve it before I write any more.
Tareck looked up from his work as the final screaming wretch was brought towards him. After so many months of work, after all the preparations they had made, this was his moment. A smile creased his lips as the thought of what was to come and what was to be his lit up his mind like fireworks. As he rose from his chair, his followers hastened to stand. Tareck could sense the anticipation building up inside them“Take this fool to the altar, I will perform this personally” He ordered.
The two holding the final sacrifice half carried, half dragged him, writhing and screaming, past the magus and strapped him to an oblong block on the floor. The stone block was a metre wide and two metres long, and was carved with hundreds of symbols of power. Most were filled with blood, gleaming ruby red, from the sacrifices already made to the Gods of chaos.
Tareck slid the sacrificial dagger from his belt and paced slowly to the stone past the waiting forms of his followers. He stopped and stared briefly around the room.
“The day is finally here, brothers and sisters, everything we wanted and everything we were promised, can now be ours” He declared “We will now release our fury and the fury of the warp on our so-called leaders. Now is the time of chaos, now is the time for us!”
The cheering of his followers drowned out the yells and sobs of the sacrifice, Tareck felt his gorge rising as the power of the warp flowed through his veins. He lifted the dagger high in both hands and brought it down, stabbing through the heart of the helpless victim. The sacrifice shuddered for a moment then lay still, his life blood leaking out of him. As his blood dripped onto the stone it was absorbed, filling the last symbols on the stone. The symbols, now full, started to move and fluctuate, giving out an unholy light. As Tareck stepped back from the stone, it exploded, sending Tareck and his cultists flying back, coating the area in gore from the sacrifice. The symbols had split from the stone, most flew up through the ceiling blasting smoking holes in it, while some formed a circle in the air, rotating slowly round and round, the power of the warp jumping from symbol to symbol, forming a portal. As Tareck and his followers got to their feet, Tareck laughed, a high pitched cackle that heralded the arrival of the first daemons to Pavonis.