Rise: Stormborn

Summary: Noak the Great, whelp of the Suneater and Lord of the Sunder Peaks, has awoken from his long slumber and gazes upon the world in distaste. The mortals infest the lands once ruled by mighty Shaggoth Kings and the abominations of Chaos seep into the world.

No More.

The Dragon Ogres march forth in numbers never seen since the birth of the world. The mountain deeps are emptied and the skies rumble as war sparks anew.

Noak will lead his kind towards conquest and freedom even if he has to battle the gods themselves.

The Age of the Storm has begun.

Chapter 1: Noble and Fools

Mortals were weak.

Mortals were frail.

Mortals were arrogant.

These mortals that called themselves Noble were simply disgusting.

Noak swung mighty Moon Song, the massive claymore of dark steel and darker enchantments, one handed. Sending sundered knights sailing across the battlefield, blood falling like rain.

A lance scraped across his chestplate, the armour's protective runes turning the holy weapon to sludge. His free hand lashed down and the Grail Knight was flattened into the mud, along with his horse.

The Dragon Ogre grunted in annoyance as he felt the fool's gaudy armour dig into his palm. These mortals seemed fond of wrapping themselves in silly trinkets, most not even pratical in battle.

Noak turned his gaze to the fight around him and found that his kin had already sent the enemy infantry packing, they were not worthy of being called soldiers, while the knights stubbonally lead charge after charge against a enemy that was beyond their simple notions of imagination.

Shaggoths bellowed orders to the younger kin as the Army of the Noak the Great met the charging Knights of Bretonnia and plowed straight through them. Ancient weapons crushing or rending knight and steed. Great bows spat arrows as large as spears, plucking Pegasus Knights from the sky to the jearing laughs of the younglings.

It was a pathetic sight for Noak could remember the days of woe. Memories surfaced of ancient foes and deep, musty, jungles. His blade soaking in the blood of the Cold Ones and feasting on frog mage flesh as his father told him tales of ancient days. His mighty shoulders tensed as a cold anger surged forth, lightning danceing across his scales.

Noak would bring vengance down upon the creature named Kroak for it had plauged him ever since he was born. The creature had even whispered secrets to the elf called the Phoenix King, who had sealed Noak and his host into the Sunder Mountains that were now known as the World Edge Mountains.

So much had changed.

Noak was brought out of his anger filled musings as a Dragon Ogre fell with a pained cry, claws clutching his ruined chest.

A armour clad stallion lept over the downed warrior and Noak finally laid eyes upon the leader of the knights.

The Duke of Montfort was clad in silver plate covered in black cloth, he held a morningstar that steamed in Dragon Ogre blood. Noak could not see the Count's face for the enclosed helm but their eyes met and the challenge accepted.

"He's mine." The Sunder King rumbled and the whelps under his tutelage galloped off into the fray, seeking unclaimed pray and loot. The battle was as good as over and six thousand Bretonnians would die in the shadow of the looming mountains, slain by the monsters they had thought ony existed in nightmares.

"The Lady has truly blessed me this day." The Duke murmured, his voice carrying over the screams of the dying. Noak tilted his head in confusion at the mans words.

His army was beaten and his troops dying.

How could his false elf goddess bless him?

"I had come to seek the head of mighty beast and instead I find a abomination of Chaos."

"What do you know of Chaos, boy?" Noak spoke in perfect Britonnian, his voice like a snarl of lightning in summer. The Duke recoiled as if slapped and his horse whickered in fear. "I have seen the birth of all and the End Times that draw closer. I have seen your petty race of lies crawl from the muck and have seen them crumble in their hubris."

Noak gripped Moon Song in both hands, holding the claymore in a low guard. "I have seen the enslaving of a race and shall witness their ascension. I have seen your kin skulk from their destiny like a whining pup from a simple truth. I have seen the Everchosen crowned and his arrogance doom everything and a dead man holding the hope of all. So tell me boy."

The Sunder King fixed his storm grey eyes onto the Duke, seconds of destiny ticking bye.

"What do you know of Chaos?"

Montfort was silent but fear was scented on the wind. He cried a shaking pray to the Lady as he kicked his stallion forward. Noak surged forth, his claws churning the blood soaked plain, eating the distance with remarkable speed.

It was all ready decided. The morningstar was blessed by a Damsel of the Lady, pure fire burning upon its spiked crown.

Those flames were snuffed as they met Noak's armoured stomach, the weapon exploding into fragments that turned the Dukes arm to bloody mush. Montfort did not register the pain as the claymore had cleaved him and his horse in two.

Noak snorted in annoyance.

"Should have relied on your own strength. Not a pathetic goddess." he scolded the dead Duke. The Sunder King planted his blade into the soil and rested his hands upon the pommel as he gazed ahead. The sound of laughter and boasts drifted from the battlefield.

He would give his warriors time to heal and rest before moving on. His army had left the under keeps and marched along the roots of the World Edge Mountains seeking a way into the realms of men.

The Skaven that had awoken him had been very forth coming with information after Noak had flensed the creatures' soul apart. Noak had no interest of fighting the Dwarfs or Skaven for they were a poor sport and the Greenskins were too predictable.

Yet when Noak had learned of the human realms named Bretonnia and the Empire was his interest gained. Bretonnia for rumours of a Green Knight with the strength of a god and the Empire for it was the nation that defeated his father, Kholek Suneater, in battle.

"Something troubling you, Stormborn?" a voice rumbled like a avalanche.

Noak did not turn as Thurnem the Elder stepped to stand beside him. The shaman's hide stank of fresh blood that was drawn in patterns of the ancient tounge and his clutched a giant bone staff in his scaled hands. Thurnem was the only one allowed to say Noak's whelp name and not draw the Sunder King's ire for the shaman was Noak's litter friend.

"Nothing of note. How many did we lose?"

"Three dead and a few wounded. These humans are not as tough as I thought." Thurnem spat on the Duke's corpse.

Noak grunted in agreement but no army, even if they shared the same flag, was the same. The Dragon Ogre army was massive for their kind, roughly eight thousand strong and those numbers would grow as they awoke the other Shaggoths and their hosts. Yet they needed to be careful for numbers count in a battle as much as courage and steel.

They needed to be ready for the bloody days ahead.

"What did the rat call this place again?" The Sunder King asked. His gaze never leaving the land before him.

Thurnem grumbled in thought before answering.

"Blackfire Pass. The place where the Man-God Sigmar made his Empire."

Noak hummed.

Thurmen shuffled a little before speaking his mind.

"They will know we are coming."

Noak smiled softly at his friend's worries, they were understandable for this Empire had weapons the Sunder host had never seen before and heroes that wielded weapons meant for gods. Yet.

If a human could forge a empire against the odds. Then why couldn't the true rulers of the world do the same? Noak gave his answer with a grin.

"Good."