Hi all, just a quick word from the author here. It's another Warhammer fanfic detailing the stories of four combatants during a siege in the Age of Reckoning, so it's set where the SoC never happened. Anyway, enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: ALL ABILITIES, WEAPONS, AND EVERYTHING ELSE IS PROPERTY OF GAMES WORKSHOP. THE ONLY THINGS THAT I OWN ARE MY IMAGINATION, AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS
Prologue
The forest was filled with the stench of death. The flight of the weak willed humans filled Magnar with disgust. Urging his horse forwards, Magnar signalled the charge of his small warband of Chaos Chosen Cavalry. The retreat of the Empire halberdiers quickly turned into a route, with Magnar's warband slaughtering the Imperial scum with impudence. It seemed that none could stand against Magnar when a trumpet sounded somewhere in the distance - a trumpet that was not of human origin. Magnar slowed his horse to a halt, and shouted at his warband to do likewise. Wheeling to face the new threat, Magnar and the Despoilers of the North charged forth to regain the initiative.
Illandra Nethertide glanced at her master and then gripped her sword tightly, nervous about the battle up ahead. All sorts of thoughts were going through her head, she was wandering if she would live, what getting her first kill would be like, what would happen to her, what... Her master put a hand on her shoulder. "Relax. You're getting too anxious. Breath. They will be coming soon, be sure of that. Make sure you're not too anxious; all you'll do is get yourself killed." Illandra let out a deep breath, and relaxed her grip on her greatsword.
The sound of hoof beats grew louder.
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Dead dwarves were piled high on both sides of Gromgar Stuntysmasha. Screaming a shout to Gork and Mork, Gromgar charged up the hill, smashing any and all dwarves that came streaming down to greet him. His goal was the cannon line on the top of said hill, firing down at his Boss's horde. After several failed assaults on the hill, Gromgar, the biggest and baddest black orc in the horde after the warboss himself was sent up there with his Irontoof Boyz.
Screaming in delight, Gromgar continued his murderous rampage, bludgeoning several dwarven warriors into the ground with brute force, before smashing into a line of thunderers set up on top of the hill. Ignoring his many wounds, Gromgar continued on his murderous rampage, cleaving heads off bodies and smashing dwarves into the ground with the butt of his great choppa. His boyz followed him, and like a ship through water, they pushed through the dwarven lines, and finally reached the cannons. Once there, they saw a regiment of Imperial halberdiers, led by one very angry looking Warrior Priest.
Gromgar shouted a challenge, and the Warrior Priest happily obliged him.
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Surveying the field, Horatio Von Kelstrommer watched with grim satisfaction as the cannons of the dwarves thundered away, smashing the orcs apart. He and his halberdiers had turned away four orc assaults, and yet they were still coming. Von Kelstrommer really didn't mind, gripping his hammer tighter, getting ready for another charge. But something was different this time, something that he couldn't place. Von Kelstrommer muttered a quick prayer to Sigmar, and began smashing away at the orc attackers. This attack was the weakest of all five, leading Von Kelstrommer to think that maybe this was the last one.
A cry from the other side of the hill caught his attention. Charging up the hill was one of the biggest black orcs he had seen, closely followed by about thirty of the foul creatures. Von Kelstrommer ordered his halberdiers back to the top of the hill, and watched with growing horror as the orc smashed apart some of the dwarves' finest warriors and thunderers. Reaching the top of the hill, this massive orc raised his choppa in a challenge. A challenge that the Warrior Priest had absolutely no qualms whatsoever of obliging with.
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The Despoilers of the North charged out of the canopy of trees, and ran into a regiment of twenty swordmasters of Hoeth. Continuing in his charge, Magnar smiled grimly. This would be no contest. Not only did he outnumber these pathetic specimens of fighters, his warriors were also mounted. To his surprise, the first line of swordmasters sheathed their greatswords and pulled out shields and longswords in one quick motion. Magnar watched with horror as the first rank of mounted chosen warriors were thrown from their horses, to be quickly decapitated by the elves. This was a worthy foe. Magnar motioned to his men, and they dismounted.
Slowly, they advanced forwards. The numbers of both sides were even now. Again, the front rank of the swordmasters swapped weapons. Then, with an unseen signal, both sides charged forwards. Magnar screamed with primal fury, offering his kills as a sacrifice to his god, Tzeetch.
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Stabbing through the helmet of one enemy, Illandra slowly began to see why war was not glorified by her people. She felt as if she had blood on her hands, but yet could not stop. Cleaving the head from another enemy, she spun around, stabbing another through the stomach. Yet even with these kills, the elves were slowly losing ground. All around her, her companions were being slaughtered. Here one or another would put up a fight and kill one of the Chaos scum, but it would always end with another avenging the death of their fallen comrade.
Suddenly, a hand was on her shoulder. Illandra made to push it away, but realised it was her master. "Run Illandra! Run! Warn Altdorf of this invasion! Find your way to the city, run Illandra! Run! I will by you some time!"
With a quick shove in the back, her master pushed her away from the battle. Illandra looked back, and her master began a deadly dance of death. Slowly at first, and then more quickly, she began to run like she had been told. After she was several hundred meters away, she looked back, just in time to see her master being beheaded by what appeared to be the leader of these people. Wiping away tears, she ran in the direction of the river Reik.
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Gromgar shouted in primal glee as he continued to batter the Warrior Priest. He swung again and again, seeing that his original plan of hit 'im! wasn't working, so he hit 'im again, which still wasn't working. However, this was one of the best fights Gromgar had had in many a long month, and even the bruises he had gotten from the Warrior Priest weren't deterring him. Suddenly, his opponent's eyes started to glow. Gromgar swiftly brought his choppa into a position to attack, but before he had the chance to thrust forwards, he received a hammer blow to the face. The stupid 'umie was actually fighting back!
Gromgar growled. He was da biggest, which meant that he was da boss. No stupid 'umie was going to be ruining his fun. He would show him! Bringing his choppa back up, he swung forwards with deadly force.
Around the two combatants, the Irontoof boyz slowly overwhelmed the Imperial defenders…
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The fight wasn't going well for Horatio. After his Sigmar blessed strike on the orc's head, everything had started to go downhill. Instead of dying, as Von Kelstrommer had expected, the orc was hitting harder and stronger than before. Already weary from the battle, Von Kelstrommer was slowing down. The only thing that kept him fighting was a will of iron, and Von Kelstrommer knew that that was slowly being whittled away as well.
Horatio had one desperate gambit; stun the orc long enough to get away. Again calling on the divine powers of his lord and master, Von Kelstrommer brought his hammer down on the orc's head in a mighty two handed swing, whilst kicking out and backwards at the same time. Coming up in a roll, Von Kelstrommer turned tail and ran, along with what was left of his halberdiers.
Behind him, the orcs began screaming in victory, and the explosions of cannons, and the dying cries of dwarves followed him down the hill.