The Balduvian Warlord Grungir organized his horde, His warriors where loosely organized into three waves; the stalwart shield bearers, known for forming into unrelenting shieldwalls with their sturdy broadswords and stout boar spears would, his fearsome berserkers, famous for cleaving man and beast alike into gorey viscera and pieces with their great weapons, wielding massive pole axes and vicious great swords, and finally his deadly hunters who could hurl two wicked hooked javelins at the same time. These same Hunters could serve them well in the freezing mountain passes and the deep woodlands of the highland wealds. Grungir himself was a chieftain of his berserkers and led the great hunt, he was personally picked by the Chaos lord himself to lead the wild hunt.
These fearsome Balduvian war mongers where camping deep in the highland frozen lake, when suddenly a freezing gale picked up from the north, many of the warriors huddled together and grasped their hide coats tightly, But Grungir picked up the smell of his quarry. "Aurochs! These beasts can feed a whole army! Quickly, Hunters you circle behind them and spook them into our camp, Huskarls and Berserkers I need you to make pit traps with wooden spears everywhere where there is a place to escape, in the frozen river beds, in the forest clearings, In the ravines of the campsite, in the trails that where naturally formed from migrating herds of beasts.
Meanwhile the hunters trecked deep into the pine woods, the resin smell gently perfumed the cold air, The Javeliners hid behind the forest and gently crept towards the clearing. Large shaggy bulls and lesser shapely cows littered the open glen, they gently dug past snow to devour the dry grass and bushels below, or chewed on the peeling bark of the pine and aspen. Diligently did the beasts chew their cud and look for more ruffage, while their calfs mewed and nudged their mothers for milk.
"Look at all those Aurochs, think of all that red meat! Smoked, salted, dried and cured…. Thrown into stews, roasted over fires and cooked with potatoes and onions, eaten with black rye bread and thick brown ale. Let's us frighten them with some wounding javelins and send them bolting back to the camp…" said Skolgur, a particulary cunning yet lithe hunter, whose hands where weathered thick and leathery from a hard life and his limbs where knobby and inelegant to the eye. He easily hefted one of the stout javelins in his left hand and hurled it with relative ease and power"Release the Javelins! Release the hounds!" Skolgur and his mean flung their javelins with great force and precision, striking the Bison in the back, rump and hind legs, wounding them and driving them into a wild fear. Aggressive wolf hounds charged out from the woodland clearing to out to harass their quarry, their robust frames and thick manes shuddering in the northern winds as great plumes of snow burst out from their powerful bounds. Skolgur grabbed his bronze bossed rams horns and breathed in deep, squeezing his leathery stomach muscle with determination, he raised the horn into the chilly air and released a powerful melody "*ba-durrrrrrr- ba durrrrr ba dur da dur!" The horn trumpeted across the highland vales.
Grungir ears picked up the crude but potent medley, He snagged his heavy war axe in his massive hands and shouted to his men "Quickly you dogs! Quickly, get to your places and ready your weapons! Strike these brutes hard and without mercy or they will trample you and make you nothing but crimson gore upon the uncaring snow!"
The Shield bearing Huskarls fromed into circular formations known as schiltroms, their boar spears ready and their hardened iron shields linked into a wall. The Berserkers hefted their mighty two handed weapons and lurked behind either the huskarls or the wooden spear traps.
Instantly the heard the sound, the distant thundering of hundreds of heavy hooves that shook the frozen rivers and trampled the packed snow. From the opening of the ravine came hundreds of enraged Bison, they where roaring in pain but they began to bunch in tight, these beasts where akin to an avalanche of muscle and horn, their charges can be so devastating they could literally flatten formations or small formations.
The crashed into the first schiltrom with great fury, strong oaken spears plunged deep into the thick muscular hides of these Aurochs but they kept coming, sometimes being completely driven through and shattering the spear impaling them, only to trample the offending huskarl to the snow. Other Aurochs tried to run past this formation of shield bearers, but they ran right into the awaiting wooden spike traps buried in the snow, suffering mortal wounds. With their primordial fury and might, they eventually bowled over the schiltrom and even gored a few warriors, but many of them were slowly dying from mortal wounds or lame from being crippled. The Berserkers roared and charge into the final battle, Hefting their great swords and cutting of the Bisons legs or chopping their heads from their necks with their heavy axes.
Grungir roared, a massive Auroch lumbered into view, this bull stamped the earth with fury and roared. It charged Grungir and the Warlord braced his pole axe, Impaled the beast in it's shoulder and pushed against it's momentous onslaught. Suddenly Skolgur burst from the forest clearing and flung two heavy javelins which struck deep into the flank and hind quarters of the beast. It roared in pain, it's eyes rolling around wildly and bloodshot, it quickly turned to meet it's new attack but then Grungir summoned the great fury within his very being and hefted his axe and struck the beast with such speed and skill that he split most of it's lower back in half. Grungir then hefted his axe high into the Heavens and brought it crashing down on the neck of the beast, splitting the head from the beast's mighty shoulders and killing it with one stroke.
The remaining herd fled from the campsite, half their number dwindled as they galloped into the wilderness. The camp site was littered with dead and dying bison, some of the warriors themselves where severely wounded with broken arms, legs and ribs and hobbling. Their fellow men at arms, gave them a helping hand or even carried them. Two warriors where dead, crushed beneath the weight of dying Aurochs. The dead warriors where placed in heavy fur blankets and fitted inside the dog sleds, and taken back to be buried in the Stronghold. The Dead and Dying bison where split and chopped into great hunks, quarters, flanks, legs and heads where placed on shields, dog sleds or even wrapped into the bloody hides of the beasts, while their intestines where flung carelessly into the snow, wrong out of offal. Several warriors carried grisly trophies, legs, heads, torsos and so on their back across the snow.
As Grungir and his Balduvian Warband trekked back across the great highlands towards the stronghold. The goblin slaves began to strike their War drums with great excitement and frenzy. War Mongers and Storm callers danced to the tribal beat, Tor giants and their bone caster shaman's opened the mighty oaken gates to let in the victorious new warband. Great bonfires made of pine logs and aurochs bones where set alight with burning pitch and tar. The epic feast began and the Chaos lord gazed into the artic night sky to gaze upon the favorable red moon, the chaos moon, who blessed his horde with it's favor and made them wild and fearless.
"Tomorrow, we will crush Varchild and her crusaders in the icy fields of Adarkar! we will march with the great Chieftain Lovisa cold eyes! Tomorrow we will dine in the halls of our Ancestors and drink the red wine of Soldev in newly crafted skull goblets from our enemies!"