| Welcome to The Chamber of the Everchosen. We hope you enjoy your visit! Here at COTEC we are all about the Warriors of Chaos in Warhammer Fantasy Battle. Tactics to help you slaughter your opponent on the tabletop, through to galleries on how to build your next Warshrine. Its all covered... and growing! We are a forum for gamers and hobbyist alike and again would like to welcome you to a fun, friendly, warm place and hope to see you again! Join our legion! Takes less than a minute and gives you access to everything! If you're already a member please log in to your account by entering the correct runes and words of power: |
| The Migration; Reposted, Very long. | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 21 2005, 10:14 PM (339 Views) | |
| The Flying Beaver | Mar 21 2005, 10:14 PM Post #1 |
|
Clanlord
|
I have reposted my story for those who haven't read it and dont want to search through the forum for the different parts. Be prepared though, it's long. I have gotten good responces from it though, and some useful criticism. I'd like to say thank you to you all and you can look forward to another story soon. Ogre Tyrant Hagthar the gorger looked out at the mountains ahead. There was a beautiful sunset, a scene of the sun slowly going down behind the mountains. It made Hagthar relax a little, which is what he needed. In fact, all his ogres needed it. They had been traveling for months, and his troops would be facing their toughest challenge yet: crossing the mountains. Hagthar had ordered his troops to set up camp for a couple days in front of the mountains to rest up. Tomorrow they would march again. Hagthar walked back to the camp, and sat at a campfire surrounded by some bulls, talking and drinking, while their gnoblar pets cooked their food. Of course, when Hagthar sat down, all the gnoblars rushed over to offer their food to him, trying to have theirs picked, to the disappointment of their owners. Grabbing a piece of meat from the nearest gnoblar, he quickly swallowed it and he stood up to address his troops. “Alright bulls! Tomorrow we are going over those mountains! Rest up an all that, we march when the sun comes back up (which had just finished setting)! An you all get another hunk of meat tonight!” All the ogres cheered, except the ones around him, who had just had all their first meat hunks stolen by Hagthar. Hagthar headed towards his tent, his arms full of meat. The gnoblars at his tent quickly found some plates and shields to put all the meat on, and opened the tent for him. He entered the tent, and ate his fill, giving the rest to his Gnoblars. He laid down on his bed, which he found very uncomfortable compared to the ones back at home. He slowly settled in to sleep, wondering what was in the mountains, wondering what to expect. *** Boranski Dy’nerfyre was disturbed from his meditation by a loud knock on his throne room door. Annoyed, he called out, “You may enter.” One of his lesser servants entered. Me bowed and spoke, “I apologize for disturbing you my lord, but the council has an urgent message for you. They wish for you to appear before them as soon as possible.” “Very well, I shall come now.” He responded. The Council of Warlocks were his advisors, and the greatest sorcerers under his command. He was not often disturbed at this time of day by them, however. Something must be urgent. As he reached the council chamber, two skeletal guards opened the doors and he walked in. The council chamber was a massive room, round and with intricately designed chairs for the councilmen. A balcony filled with aspiring sorcerers and cultists overlooked the room. As Boranski entered the room, the councilmen and the servants on the balcony above bowed until he sat down in the finest chair in the center of the room. “What is it you have summoned me here for?” Boranski asked. “Milord, we have a problem heading in our direction. A large horde of ogres has appeared out of the east and is planning to cross the mountains. The secrecy of our empire is threatened!” The first councilman said. Boranski replied, “We will kill them all. How large is this force?” “Massive, milord. It will be a tough effort to destroy them, and our scouts report that 2 more similarly sized forces are on their way. If even a single ogre escapes and tells the other group about us…” “That cannot be allowed! We will have to bide our time for now. I shall go to the north tower and consider what our options are. I want you all to discuss this as well. I shall return at noon tomorrow, and a solution shall be found!” With that Boranski headed to the highest tower in his massive castle. He did not sleep well that night. Part 2 When the sun rose, his gnoblar pets cautiously awaked Hagthar. Hagthar was tired still however, and didn’t want to get up. This was proven when he grabbed a gnoblar by the leg without getting up, and throwing it out of his tent. “Get me breakfast!” He yelled at the gnoblars, who scurried off to fetch him food. Hagthar laughed. He thought gnoblars were cute, but liked to scare them for their reactions. In fact, most ogres are that way, though they won’t admit it. Hagthar was powerfully built, even for an ogre. His cunning as a tactician and general, combined with his strength is what made him rise to the rank of Tyrant at such a young age (for an ogre). His superiors favoured Hagthar, and was given a large host of ogres to act as a vanguard before the overtyrant himself journeyed west. He would soften up the men of the old world, and send back runners to report about the lands. His job would really start just after the mountains were crossed. Getting out of bed, Hagthar put on his armour, and slung his great axe over his back. He walked out of his tent to find that most of the host was already up and getting food. Hagthar walked over to a campfire, surrounded by the ogres he had stolen food from last night. “Mornin boys! Enjoy dinner last night?” He said slyly. Angry grunts followed the comment. “It’d be a shame to go the day on an empty stomach, so I’d better fill up.” Hagthar snapped his fingers and the gnoblars cooking the food brought it all to him. Hagthar quickly scarfed the food down, while to ogres around seemed to be about to cry. Full, Hagthar called his gnoblars and prepared to address his army. Hagthar had gained the title “gorger” because of what he just did to the ogres: he stole their food, and ate 6 ogres worth of it. Hagthar thought it was funny, and it also made the ogres not want to make him angry. Within a half hour, the camp was packed up and the host was assembled. Hagthar and his lieutenants, riding on mighty rhinoxs, lead the horde. Hagthar spoke, “Hope you’re rested up, cause we’re crossing those mountains! It won’t be easy- and watch your step ‘cause you could easily fall to your doom from those peaks! But it’ll be worth it, the manlings are on the other side, and we get to do some fighting!!!” With a cheer, the march began. *** It was now noon, but the sun did not shine in the realm of Krontathia. Boranski Dy’nerfyre, was walking down the halls of his fortress, Dran Krontathia toward the council chamber. Boranski had treaded many paths in previous times. Once, he was an Amethyst wizard of Altdorf. He was noble at the time, but power-hungry. He had sworn to seek out and destroy chaos in the Imperial colleges when the Tzeenchian Egrimm Van Horstmann revealed himself as a leader of a chaos cult. Upon his studies in the ways of chaos though, He learned of a set of stones, which contained great power when combined, but never had been so it was a mystery. Further study in the ways of chaos soon corrupted him, and he stole the stone from Altdorf and fled as a chaos sorceror south to find the others. Soon, he gathered the stones, but the power was not what he expected. The Etherstones, as they are called in the Imperial tounge, as well as gifting great power, banished all the winds of magic except those of death and shadow from a great radius, creating a haven for necromancy and certain chaos magics. It was not long until he gathered followers, and soon he learned the ways of necromancy, and a vast empire was built in the heart of the mountains. He is constantly building his army, and he rarely launches attacks anywhere, despite his power. He keeps his nation secret above all else, though none know why. Boranski had now entered the dark council room. He immediately spoke. “What has the council decided on?” A member on the far right stood up. “Milord, we have decided that our best option would be to send several legions of skeleton warriors to flank the ogres, while we send some flying beasts to loop around and cut all escape routes, save towards the castle.” Boranski stopped and thought for a short time. “Hmm…No, we shall not engage them yet. We will have to, of course, but not yet. Ready my mount, and a guard of winged beasts. Send two forces of skeletons and wights to prepare to flank them from both sides, and an ethereal host to their rear. Be sure they keep their distance: we can afford for them to be spotted. Do this now!” Boranski left the chamber and went to his “stables”. It wasn’t a horse stable however: Boranski and his minions created foul beasts, each with their own purposes. He had many winged beasts, with leathery bodies and wings, traveling at great speeds. They are similar in size and power to the fell bats of Sylvania, but smarter. Boranski had a personal mount created for him, about a head taller than a manticore, but created from a multitude of powerful beasts. Its skin was leathery and gray, with claws and talons that could rip a man in two. It had great, powerful wings, flying as fast as a dragon. The very sight of it inspired terror in the hearts of men, and it only obeyed then it’s master. He climbed onto it, and flew off into the sky. Part 3 Hagthar and his ogres were a couple hours into their long climb of the mountains, and it looked promising so far. No fights had broken out (which is miraculous for so many ogres), and complaints about hunger had been low. It was a beautiful sunny day, and Hagthar had a soft spot for things like sunny days and sunsets (Like an ogre though, he’d never admit it). The path ahead for a while was straight, so Hagthar closed his eyes, smelled the crisp mountain air, listening the beating hooves of his mighty rhinox. He almost dozed off in this state of relaxation, but a yell from an ogre woke him up. “Look! Up in da sky! A monster!” Hagthar looked up, and there was something there. It was grey-skinned, but Hagthar couldn’t think of what it could be. It was just flying in circles above the horde, waiting for a foolish ogre to wander too far from the rest. “It must be a species frum around just here…he thought. I’ll probably see more of em, and I’ll find what d’ere called too!” “STOP!!!” Hagthar yelled out. The ogres did stop, and there was silence for a second. Hagthar squinted at the beast for a couple seconds, and then spoke, “ That a big monster. It won’t attack us cuz there’s too many of us but anybuddy who goes too far off’s gunna get eaten. We can try scaring it off ‘do. Get da cannons up front here!” With many sounds of “hur, hur hur!” a group of leadbelchers lined up and aimed at the monster flying overhead. “Fire when I say so,” Hagthar said. “NOW!” he yelled. The ogres fired their beloved cannons, and started laughing uncontrollably at the noise they so loved. Hagthar squinted at the beast above, and sighed in disappointment as it flew up and the shots fell short. “Good try boys, now back in line! And ta alluv you: don’t go too far off and don’t go alone! Now back ta marching!” Hagthar thought he handled that well. The troops would shut up about it, and they could continue. And they did until nightfall. The monster had flown above them all day, and around sunset it went away. Not even a mention from the troops was heard, and camp was set up quietly. Hagthar had a campfire’s worth of food again, and he was soon settling down to sleep in his tent. But just before he did, some gnoblar scouts ran into the camp, shrieking loudly. Hagthar stormed out of his tent to see why some puny gnoblars would be waking him up. He picked one up as it ran by, and yelled, “WHAT’S GOING ON!!!?” The gnoblar trapper cringed but when Hagthar didn’t squish him, it spoke. “We wuz out scoutin like we wuz told to, and we saw lotsa walking bones! Dere is big armies of ‘em on both sides of ‘ar camp, and some ghosties are commin up behind us!” “What!” Hagthar said. “You sure?” “Yes great one!” The gnoblar said nervously. Hagthar cursed, and drop kicked the gnoblar over his tent. He rushed into his tent to put his armour on, and grabbed his great axe and handguns he was given by the maneaters (a title for ogres who traveled to the human lands and returned with lots of interesting stories and neat equipment). He ran out side and could see that the rest of the horde was aware. “Get ready for da living dead!” Hagthar yelled. Within twenty minutes, the ogres were in defensive positions, and Hagthar had his most trusted lieutenants in council. There was his right hand ogre, Shenk, who was almost as strong as Hagthar. The Prophet of the Maw in Hagthars horde, Sharga was there, with his two lesser butchers, who Hagthar never bothered to know the name of. There was also the hunter Nargor, one of the most skilled sabretusk trainers he had ever met. They had a quick meeting, discussing what the Maw said to Sharga, and it looked good. For some reason though, as they got further into the mountains, his gastromancy was weakening. The skeletons could be seen now, marching towards the ogres on both sides, while an ethereal host was floating towards the back of the camp. The leadbelchers fired their cannons, their shots penetrating rank after rank of the skeletons. Their lines closed however, and soon they were upon the ogres in great numbers, and the battle started. The spirits in the back were unaffected by the cannonshots, and they lowered their ghostly spears and flowed through the ranks of ogres killing a great many. Hagthar was at the rear of the camp, and he swung his axe at a ghostly soldier, cleaving it in half. Realizing that it was probably due to the magical enchantments in his weapon, he quickly sent a gnoblar to fetch Sharga, cleaving down another three spirits in one mighty blow. Sharga was over fighting the skeletons on the left flank, which were taking heavy casualties. He grabbed a rib bone from a skeleton he just crushed and ate a piece of it. He chanted a prayer to the Maw and some shots of magical energy shot from his hand, shattering some skeletons. “Charge!!” He yelled, and his Irongut bodyguard charged forward, their massive weapons shattering dozens of skeletons with each blow. Sharga was about to join them, but a gnoblar came and told him to go to Hagthar. Sharga wondered why he would need help, but he came. It didn’t take long to get to him. The spirit hosts had pushed the ogres back quite a way. The ogres were retreating, unable to attack their insubstantial enemy. “Wherz Hagthar?” Sharga said to an ogre bull. He simply pointed towards the spirits, where Hagthar was sending the flain bodies up into the air as a sign he was alive to the ogres who couldn’t see him. “He not gunna last long dere,” Sharga said. “This iz gunna hurt…” He began chanting in an unknown tounge. “Eenyalawk! Maw Dooka Sharga Klashee Yhetee!!!” A chill wind blew hard, and all the fighting stopped. The undead stood still and the ogres and gnoblars covered their faces, and this lasted until a thin coat of snow covered the ground. There was utter silence for a couple seconds, and then a rumbling sound was heard. Dozens of Yhetees came running out through the rocks of the mountains, and charged at either side of the ethereal force. They swept through their ranks on the charge, resuming the fighting. The battle was now in favour of the ogres, and they fought with renewed vigor. “I saved da boss…” Sharga murmured. He fell into unconsciousness. The magical weapons of the Yhetees were tearing through the spirit hosts. The ogres were able to pull back and assist their comrades with the skeletons, and the skeletons were now beginning to crumble. Hagthar was able to carve his way towards the Yhetees, and called out his praises to the Great Maw. “Victory is ours!!!!!” He yelled. The next half hour was spent fighting off the weak, but numerous undead. Victory seemed imminent, but something unexpected happened. The monster seen in the sky earlier came down upon the ogres, but there was a man dressed in black, gray and red and wearing a mask riding on it. Some smaller beasts flew with the monster, and their diving attack left many ogres wounded in the face, those unfortunate enough to be in the way of the large monster having holes torn through their bodies. The monsters stopped around the center of the camp and flew upwards a little bit. They dove down again, killing more ogres and flying towards Hagthar, who was somehow spotted. Hagthar saw the beast flying towards him, and raised his axe to charge it. Just as he was in range to swing his axe at the beast’s talon, he was hit by a magical blast of black energy by the man riding, and he was knocked onto his belly. He struggled for air as the beast grasped him in its talons and lifted him into the air. A second bolt of dark light struck him in the face and he blacked out. The man veered his mount to fly upwards, and stopped above the battlescene. He raised his arms, chanting in a strange tongue. All the undead turned to dust, and blew away in the wind. The ogres stopped and watched the man speak, “I have your leader! If you want him back, you may come five days march west to negotiate! And don’t try to turn back!” The strange man raised up a staff, chanting again. Swirls of black energy flowed around him, and soon focused around the top of his staff. He pointed the staff at the side of the mountain, and the energy shot like a bolt of lightning at it. Upon contact it exploded, and rocks showered behind the camp. He did the same on the other side, and their way was cut off. “There is no return from here! I shall see you soon if you are not cowardly!” He kicked his mount, and it flew away, the smaller winged beasts followed. Soon they were out of sight, and around that time Hagthar came to. His face in pain, he groaned. The man spoke, “Welcome to Krontathia, Hagthar the Gorger. I am Boranski Dy’nerfyre, and these are my lands.” Hagthar lost consciousness again, unaware of what would happen to him in the company of this mysterious man. Part 4 With the undead horde defeated, the ogres began counting the casualties. The bruiser Shenk had taken command with Hagthar being captured, and the hunter Nargor assisting in maintaining order. Casualties were quite low, but with no leader and Sharga in a coma after summoning the yhetis, another attack could really cause damage to the army. Fortunatley, the yhetis had stayed, promising to help them navigate their way through the mountains, and rescue their leader. Under normal circumstances, they would have turned back, but they were trapped and the only way out of the mountains was to continue west, with a guarantee to see more of the undead. The yhetis set out that night to scout the area before the ogres set off again. They returned at noon to find the ogres ready to march, and set off immediately. Shenk spoke with a yheti as they marched. “So wha’did ya find out about da area?” Shenk spoke in his gruff voice. The yheti responded “We found out nothing, but we can feel something unnatural about this area; like something beyond our comprehension is lurking, watching us, waiting for the right moment…” Shenk hated talking to yhetis, and rarely did. They used words he could barely understand, and their voice was like a strong wind blowing, not the voice of a normal being. Of course, the yhetis are magical creatures, and they could fight very well. “Well, the only way outta here is through it, so keep yerself ready for dose skellies again!” The conversation over, they continued the march in silence. **** Hagthar slowly opened his eyes. It was almost pitch black and he could see very little, but he knew he was chained to a wall. His massive body ached all over, but he didn’t seem to be wounded very badly. He struggled against his bonds, but he couldn’t budge them. “Where am I!?” he suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs. He paused, but with no response. Not even a footstep was heard. The silence was making him angry, hurting his already wounded pride. He tore at his chains again. “I’m gonna kill whoever did dis to me! Get in here now!!” Silence. He continued to yell, and did until his voice went hoarse and it hurt to even whisper. He struggled against his chains until he was gasping for breath and his arms and legs were burning from rubbing against the iron. But the silence was still there, and the dark was still there. Hagthar didn’t think he could take much more of it, but he finally heard footsteps. A door opened, letting the light in. Several robed men, dressed in black and dark red walked in, followed by the man who was riding the monster earlier. He remained silent, waiting to see what would happen. “That’s a good ogre.” The man spoke, “Allow me to introduce myself, Hagthar. I am Boranski Dy’nerfyre, Warlock King of Dran Krontathia. I would like you to come with me to a more comfortable place in the castle. I advise you to co-operate because your weapons and armour have been taken and I have powerful guards who are ready to kill you should you resist.” Hagthar nodded. The two men with Boranski pulled out keys and unhooked the chains from the wall. They then grabbed two long staves and attached them to Hagthar’s chains, keeping his arms under control. “Follow me.” Boranski said. They walked down a dimly lit corridor, then went through another, and and another, up and down several staircases, and then into a room, very large and comfortable looking, and much better lighted. Boranski sat at a table, and the two men guided Hagthar to stand on the other side. “To begin,” Boranski said, “I will answer any questions you may have. Do you have any?” Hagthar paused for a moment. “Yes.” He grunted. “Where am I?” “You are in the castle of Dran Krontathia, my home. This is my chamber.” “What kind of place is dis?” Hagthar then asked. “Ahh, you feel how my realm is different than most places do you? That is because of these.” Boranski got up, and picked up a staff from the other side of the room. It was a magnificent staff, a black wood with silver spirals leading up the shaft, and a golden star shaped head. There were 3 round, light green stones embedded in the middle of the head. “These are the etherstones. Alone, they are little more than jewels, but together, they grant their master great power, and do something very special too. You won’t understand this at all, but only the winds of shadow and death may flow near them, creating a haven for necromancers and the like. This is why it seems different, the disruption in the winds of magic is what you feel.” “Yer a nekermanter or whatever ya just said. Why didn’t ya just kill me and make me a skelly guy?” Hagthar then asked. “Ahh, an excellent question. You see, my stones don’t just give the powerthey have just like that. You have to feed them, and thy like the souls of great warriors and mages. And whether you like it or not, you are the next meal of the stones.” Hagthar got a petrified look on his face, and yelled. He struggled against his bonds forcing the men to let go of his chains. He was about to leap at Boranski, but a bolt of dark light struck him, knocking him on his back. The robed men gathered him back up. “Don’t even try it!” Boranski didn’t yell but his tone was sharp. “I have something else planned for you, beyond just feeding your soul to my stones. You shall see what is planned. He began to wave his arms and chant. Black, smoke like magic surrounded his arms and hands, and he then pointed his palms at Hagthar. The gas-like energy shot at him, becoming like a liquid when touching him. Hagthar felt a deep cold feeling running through his body. Boranski stopped chanting, and the energy disappeared. He picked up his staff and held it up in one hand, while his other hand pointed at Hagthar. The next thing Hagthar saw was himself seeming to drift over towards the staff head. He was within a hairs distance from the staff, and he felt like he was falling from a great height, though he had stopped drifting. But as soon as it had started he quickly was back to where he was being held before. He could see the stones glowing. All the pain in his body was gone. “Who is your master?” Boranski said. Hagthar heard a voice. “Boranski Dy’nerfyre, the great King of Krontathia!” He tried to look around to see who it was, but he couldn’t move his head. “Do you swear allegiance to me?” Boranski said. “I, Hagthar the Gorger, swear upon my existence that I shall serve the Warlock King with unquestioned loyalty!” “What?” Hagthar though. “Why wud I say dat?” Boranski spoke to him again. “Raise your arm in front of you face Hagthar!” He tried to curse and attack him, but all that happened was his hand extended in front of his face. “Now tell me what just happened to you!” He said. “My soul, after being saturated in your magic, was almost completely fed to the stones, leaving but a fragment of the remaining soul. The magic has copied the eaten part of the soul, making the body still useable, but not in the control of the previous host. Now, as this body withers, a powerful servant, fanatically loyal to the Warlock King is under your command, while the remainder of the old host can only watch as all it’s beliefs are defied and his comrade’s slain by his hands for the rest of eternity.” “Good!” Boranski said. “Your first battle assignment is to lead my forces against the ogres in my lands! Prepare the mounts!” **** It was three days later, and the ogres had been marching without any sign of the undead. The yhetis returned from their nightly scouting, and reported to Shenk. “Wut you see? You see anythin?” He asked. “Yes, and we must be ready to fight again! A much larger undead horde is marching our way, with a great amount of the winged beasts and two of the large beasts the Hagthar was carried off on! They should reach here in an hour: get into formations!” Part 5 An hour had passed, and the entire host had taken defensive positions well. The ogre bulls lined up at the front, with hordes of fighting gnoblars between their ranks ready to surprise the enemy. Four scraplaunchers lined up at the rear, and leadbelchers took higher ground on the flanks. The yhetis had gone into the mountain, ready to flank the undead. Shenk was standing at the front rank in a large unit of ironguts. “We in a great fightin spot,” He thought. “We can hold here for hours, and my plan with da gnobblas is gunna work great!” The undead were now in sight, slowly marching towards them, showing no emotion, all synchronized in their march. What Shenk noticed the most was that the banners were few, and they showed no icons. There were many trophies on spears and pikes however, which served the same purpose. “Hold yer ground, let dem come to us!” Shenk yelled. “We gotta hold formation, did is da fight of ar lives! We can crush the skellies like we did last time, den we just go right thru da mountains and plunder da manling towns!” With a great yell from the ogres, the worries that Shank had dropped. He worried that the ogres would be too unruly without Hagthar, and he worried what he would do, even if they actually survived and escaped to the human lands. The undead were almost there, mostly skeletons at the front. They lowered their spears and began the charge. The scraplaunchers fired at them, raining debris on the skeletons and crushing many. The leadbelchers fired their cannons, causing heavy casualties on them. No panic spread though, the mindless skeletons closed their ranks and continued, only to find prepared ranks of ogres swinging their large weapons in crushing blows taking down great numbers of skeletons. But their numbers were great, and their initial success slowed down. The masses of skeletons started masing up, killing a small amount of ogres. Shenk knew it was the right time now. “Gnobla’s charge!!!!” He yelled. The small creatures bravely ran out from hiding behind the ogre ranks and in between the skeletons. The slashed with their tiny weapons at the ankles of the skeletons, causing many to fall to the ground, unable to support themselves with no feet. “Charge!!!” Shenk yelled, and the ogres ran into the masses of fallen skeletons, trampling them with their massive bodies and bringing their large weapons down on those still swinging their weapons pointlessly. The skeletons began to fall back and Shenk called out, telling them not to pursue. The gnoblars returned to the ogres, with no mean looks directed their way and even the occasional praise given to them for what they did. Shenk was confident from that first wave, and was pleased that morale was high now. But he knew that there was a lot more coming their way. More skeletons began charging at the ogres, and the artillery fired again, taking out many ranks. This time the winged beasts joined them, and three living men in gray and red robes lurked behind the ranks, muttering chants, which raised the skeletons taken down on the first strike. A second force of winged beasts attacked the leadbelchers, forcing them to fall back. On the main lines the ogres were fighting the skeletons and beasts with neither side having the upper hand. That was when the yhetis charged down from the mountainside, flanking the undead. They hit the ranks hard, with the necromancers unable to animate the skeletons as fast as they were struck down. Shenk called a charge again and they ripped through the undead, and caused another retreat. The swift yhetis managed to kill two of the necromancers as they fled. Again, the ogres fell back to their position, with the yhetis now joining their ranks. The entire host let out a loud yell of defiance to the undead The next wave began the charge. There were many heavily armoured skeletons, and a massive force of armoured cavalry. More skeletons joined their flank, with the winged beasts in great amounts too. Then a great winged beast, like the one Hagthar was carried off by came up from behind the host, followed by two more, and then an even bigger one, which was clearly the mount of Hagthar’s captor. They joined the charge of the cavalry, taking down a fair amount of ogres in a fast advance. The mighty beasts performed diving attacks, knocking ogres everywhere, carrying them high up before dropping them on others, then diving for another attack. An ethereal host appeared out of thin air and charged the yhetis. Their magical blades cut down many, but their numbers slowly decreased under the constant attack of the wights and spirits. Shenk saw one of the winged nightmares diving at him, so he pulled out his handgun and shot at the rider. The shot knocked him off as Shenk dived out of the way from the beast, who flew upwards again. He could see the rider get up, and the shot, which had hit him in the stomach, had almost no effect on him He gasped at what he saw. “h….h…Hagthar?” He stammered. “Yes, it is I Shenk. Or is it? It won’t matter to you much longer. I give you two choices. Join the ranks of the true master, or die a slow painful death, and join the ranks of the true master. It is your choice, but make it now!” Shenk did not expect such an answer. Hagthar’s voice had changed slightly, and was much more…human-like. And Hagthar served none but the overtyrant, not this “true master”. He responded. “Hagthar, I dunno what’s goin on with ya but yer not servin da maw no more I can tell! I’m gunna have ta fight ya now, and I gunna have ta kill ya! FOR DA MAW!!!!!” Hagthar simply sidestepped as Shenk went thundering by. “Do not fool yourself Shenk, I was stronger than you before, and the Warlock King is on my side now. Join him or die!” Shenk had turned around now, and was shaking in anger. “Hagthar I’m not gunna serve dis ‘Werlock King’ guy yer talking about, so shut up! I know yer tuffer den me but I’ll win if da Maw wants me too! And if da Maw wants me ta be a skelly den I’ll be a skelly but I aint gunna be a skelly wit’out a fight! “So be it.” Hagthar said calmly. Shenk raised his massive two-handed hammer and swung it at Hagthar’s head, which was blocked by his axe. Hagthar hooked his foot around Shank’s leg, knocking him to the ground in a sweep. He swung his axe at Shenk, but he rolled to the side and leaped up. Shenk curled his hammer outwards at Hagthar’s knees, and the axe blocked it. Shenk swung again at His chest, which was evaded and Hagthar jabbed forward at Shenk. The axe cut a bit from Shenk’s chest plate but didn’t hurt him much. They battled for twenty minutes with not much but a couple scratches on both sides. Shenk was exhausted, putting all his effort into staying on par, while Hagthar showed no signs of fatigue. They continued to fight. Five long minutes went by, and Shenk found himself tripped again. Hagthar spoke his last words to him. “Shenk, you are a fool to challenge me. Only those who follow the Warlock King Boranski know true strength, and now you shall serve him for eternity!” Hagthar brought his axe into Shenk’s face. He watched him bleed and die and casted and invocation to re-animate his corpse. He then turned and began fighting his way to his mount. *** The fighting around them continued, regardless of whether Shank was dead or not. The batlike beasts had silenced the leadbelchers, but the scraplaunchers were still causing havoc on the undead. Seeing the need, two giants who had been beaten down and shamed by the ogres were released by their gnoblar guards, and they ran through the ranks of ogres to the undead. They hit the wight cavalry hard, their massive clubs shattering their mounts. But soon Boranski and his two warlocks were circling the giants, casting powerful missile spells at the giants while their mounts tore at them. They felled the giants quickly, and the Boranski flew up high. His voice could be heard above the din of battle as he chanted the words to a spell. “Chatha’maloth dai siealla! Miak Phasha Chamon’phak! Great bolts of black lightning shot from the sky, dragging along the ground for several seconds before erupting in great explosions. The ground was seared and burning while ogres died in droves from the lightning, and the undead then redoubled their efforts. The other two warlocks flew up high, and chanted spells to re-animate the dead of the battle. Combined with the power of Boranski, the dead were all soon raised and their fallen comrades, now raised up to fight for their new master, surrounded the ogres. Now the situation was dire. The scraplaunchers had run out of shots, and the smaller winged beasts had killed the gnoblars crewing it and attacked the undefended backs of the rhinoxs’. To make matters worse, 2 mighty coaches manned by insubstantial beings, pulled by horselike creations rammed into the army, finishing off the last of the yhetis. The lightning had turned the battlefield into a hellish scene, the sky now blacker than it already was, with the only light coming from the many fires and red-hot metal scattered across the battlefield. All the gnoblars had panicked and been slain, while the remaining ogres had backed into a final defensive circle. The undead gathered around the circle, staying a distance from the scared and exhausted ogres. There was utter silence now. The three winged nightmares flew in circles above them, and were soon joined by Hagthar on the fourth. They landed between the undead and the ogres. Boranski spoke. “Ogres! I know not why you entered my land, but none are welcome to enter, and those who enter do not leave. You shall die now.” Boranski, the two warlocks and Hagthar raised their right arms, with their palms pointing flat at the ogres. Perfectly synchronized they chanted a short spell, and a colourless distortion in the air shot at the ogres, killing any in its path, the four shots gathering at the center, forming a vortex which flowed for several seconds in a spiral before exploding outwards in a great gust of wind, killing off the last of the ogres in a powerful burst of magic. “Fools.” Hagthar said. “They did not know I existed,” Boranski said. “But that is how I want it, and that is how it shall stay. I will need agents in the lands they came from, and you will be one, Hagthar. Ride your mount to the Ogre Kingdoms, and do not be see riding it. Send it back when are there. I can see through your eyes, and hear what you hear, so you are to keep a close watch on these lands. I want you to return in two years to Dran Krontathia, no earlier, no later. I shall be waiting for you there. Go now!!” Hagthar pulled his mount’s reigns, and flew off. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
|
|
| « Previous Topic · Fiction · Next Topic » |







3:38 AM Jul 12