Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to the Warhammer 40000 universe, which is the exclusive property of Games Workshop Ltd. I do not own anything pertaining to the Warcraft universe, which is the exclusive property of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc.

Chapter 1: Arrival

The region of Netherstorm was a verdant open range called the Fields of Farahlon until Draenor was ripped apart. Normally imperceptible to mortals, the Twisting Nether bled into the physical realm and unleashed a tumultuous arcane storm that warped the surrounding territory. The Blood Elves are now using the technology of a captured Naaru vessel to harness the storm's magic, further compromising the already unstable land.

The storm is unnatural, that much is certain. My sensors tell me there is no electrostatic charge to cause this much lightning, leaving some form of sorcery as the only answer. But I am puzzled. There is no trace of the glorious taint of Chaos here, only this odd lightning, a purple sky, and pale blue crystals jutting out of the ground. Even the earth under my boots is purple. This place certainly looks like a Daemon World, but there is no trace of Chaos, and most importantly, no daemons. This must be some sort of test.

Yes, that's it. A test, set down by the Great God to see if I am worthy to carry on the Long War in his name. Why else would I suddenly find myself here, bereft of everything save my armor, my knife, and my chainsword? I must find my enemy in this strange world and slay him. Then, I would be seen as worthy. I stop and close my eyes, trusting my other senses to lead me to my opponent. The crunch of packed earth underfoot. A faint scream. I open my eyes, grinning.

There is no hiding from Chaos.

-o0o-

Jorad Mace, ex-paladin and mercenary, was not having a very good day. First that damned Netherdragon Veraku had nearly bitten his head off when he went to use the bathroom, then Tyri had gotten a message from Malygos himself declaring war on all magical spellcasters, then she had collapsed and wouldn't wake up. No matter what kind of healing spell he cast, the dragoness-in-disguise had stubbornly refused to awaken, choosing instead to toss and turn fitfully. That was ten minutes ago, and still there was no change. Jorad sighed. This really wasn't his day.

-o0o-

I move silently, creeping closer towards my opponents. A human male dressed an outrageous suit of gold armor is sitting next to a female wearing the unique combination of a blue shirt, blue stockings, and blue thong and nothing else. She is tossing and turning, as if in the throes of a nightmare. Odd, but I have seen stranger in my long career as a servant of the Brass King. I shift from my kneeling position, preparing to burst from my hiding place and cut both of them down. Suddenly, the girl sits up and screams again. I tense, gripping my chainsword tighter. If she doesn't stop screaming, I will charge down there and silence her, element of surprise or no.

-o0o-

"Tyri calm down!" Jorad screamed. Without warning, the dragoness-in-disguise had jerked upright and started screaming loudly.

"Tyri!" he screamed again. Finally, she managed to calm down. "Now, what's wro—"

"Jorad, we have to go!" Tyri said.

With an ominous sense of doom in the back of his mind, Jorad spluttered, "What? Where? Why?"

"I h—ugh—I had a vision." Said Tyri.

"What kind of vision?" Jorad asked warily.

"There was a—" Tyri choked, feeling her gorge rise. "There was blood. Everywhere. Lakes and oceans and rivers of it, and a mountain of skulls and a fire and the End of All Things and red fiends and beasts of living metal and—"

Jorad interrupted. "No, Tyri. It was all just a vision, you're safe now."

Tyri stared at him, trembling. "No. No, we're not. He's here."

Jorad stared back, uncomprehending. "Who?"

"The Gorehound." Tyri opened her eyes, shuddering. "We have to go. Now."

-o0o-

It sounds like the girl had a vision of the Fortress of Khorne. No wonder she wouldn't stop her pathetic whining. A psyker, perhaps? No matter. Her head will roll all the same.

I thumb the activation switch of my toothed weapon, listening, as the growl of the motors becomes a roar. Then I burst from my hiding place, knife in one hand, chainsword in the other. The Brass King would see that I, Hamilcar, was worthy of his favour! As His divine touch floods my mind, I scream the terrible, beautiful battlecry that heralds death and destruction, my vox-speakers nearly overloading with the fervor of my voice.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

-o0o-

Jorad fancied himself to be a capable fighter. Hell, he knew he was a capable fighter. But he also knew when he was outclassed. And from the moment this eight-foot tall suit of armor came barreling through the mist, literally screaming bloody murder, Jorad knew that he was outclassed in the same way a man with a sword is outclassed by High Overlord Saurfang. They may be the same size, but the man is going to die.

Fortunately for Tyri, Jorad was alright with dying, since Tyri could always turn into a dragon and fly away. All he had to do was delay the giant red…thing until Tyri was safely away. Jorad hefted his sword. At least this was a better death than being eaten by a nether drake.

-o0o-

I almost laughed. If the pathetic man in his pretty gold suit expects delay me, he is sorely mistaken. I close in, crossing ten feet in the space of a second. He conjures a golden hammer and throws it at me, but I manage to awkwardly roll to the left. Is he a psyker too? But I ruthlessly crush the question, because it doesn't matter. He will die reguardless. I rise to charge again, but the girl appears in front of me in a flash of light, and screeches something unintelligible. Gods I hate that voice!

My thoughts are cut short as an invisible force slams into me, sending me smashing through a crystal pillar and into the side of the hill. As I struggle to extricate myself from the impression I have made in the hillside my mind turns to the abilities of my quarry. Conjuration, telekinesis, and teleportation. Definitely a psyker.

-o0o-

Jorad sighed in relief. Tyri had Blinked in front of him and cast some crazy magic that sent the red giant crashing into the hillside. It wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

"Come on, Jorad!" Tyri didn't share his confidence in her abilities, it seemed. Jorad turned around, and suddenly found himself face-to-face with a large blue dragon.

Get on. said Tyri, using her mental powers to communicate. The paladin looked dubiously at the row of spikes along the dragoness's spine.

"You sure?" said Jorad.

Now! Tyri screamed into Jorad's mind, desperation creeping into her voice. Jorad risked a glance over his shoulder. The giant was almost on its feet! Jorad quickly clambered up onto the dragoness's back.

"Go!" he shouted. Tyri, or Tyrygosa as she was known, gladly obliged.

-o0o-

For the first time in five millennia, I am surprised. The screaming bitch had just transformed into a large blue reptile and flown away with the useless man on her back. But that was not the cause of my surprise. For the first time ever, an enemy had escaped my grasp when I engaged them in personal combat. A roar claws its way out of my throat, and I lash out angrily with my chainsword, destroying a nearby crystal. So close! If that whore hadn't used her cowardly magicks, I would've cleaved her in two, and her ridiculous companion. I stop and take a deep breath to calm myself, and begin to analyze my opponents, seeking an explenation as to why I failed to kill them. They both appeared to be powerful psykers. The reptile-woman wielded especially powerful magic. She could change her form. Then, it came to me.

They were in the service of Tzeentch!

I snarl. No servant of that scheming, backstabbing bastard would ever get the better of me! I turn and begin running in the direction that the Changeling had taken only to stop. In front of me stands a formidable ridge over which I can see that whore and her minion flying away. I growl, and sprint towards the ridge, and notice a winding path that leads to the top. As I begin the long climb up the path, one thought reassures me.

She can't fly forever.

Author's Notes: Chapter revised and updated.