Disclaimer: I do not own Warhammer or anything even remotely related to it, except for some miniatures...
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Company of Heroes: First Deep
This place was old, and it had been the domain of foul beasts and monsters for untold centuries. Until now.
The only warning the orcs got was the whistling of an arrow, before it struck one particularly ugly one squarely in the chest. The force of the projectile was so great, that the orcs was thrown backwards and the arrow impaled a smaller one in the neck. Then, four warriors charged into their midst. The first was an armoured figure, fully a head taller and broader than the orcs, smiting the monsters left and right with a hammer which left only a trail of blue sparks and black blood in its wake as it threw the orcs in the air like rag dolls.
From an elevation in the room leapt an almost 7 feet tall fighter with a burning sword and while he fell, he somersaulted over the first line of orcs and, with a single swipe of the blade, caused three orcs to double over and clutch the burning gashes in their chests. A strange black mist proceeded the third fighter, who strolled casually through the entrance, caring not for the dismembered bodies of the slain, as only the still living orcs interested him. He drew a chittering sword, with which he slaughtered five orcs in a few seconds. When the last orc in his path was still standing, the warrior lowered his head, looked the orc in the eyes and then, as the creature trembled but didn't move, opened his mouth and revealed fangs longer than knives. The creature only squeaked as the shadow fell upon him.
A bright light radiated from the last figure that arrived in the room, clearly a wizard, as the crackling of static electricity and smell of ozone were very clear. Closing his eyes, the wizard summoned a blazing fire in the form of a hammer, with which he smashed two of the last orcs from their feet.
The orcs were being pushed back, slaughtered, and broken, and they knew it. One managed to sound a crude alarm before the armoured elf's arrow pierced his head and thudded in the wall behind it in a spray of blood.
'Good shot there, Corothas ' said the armoured barbarian, wiping the orc-blood from his hammer. The elf merely replied with: '46, now Toreth, I'm gaining on you.' 'Hah, that was just because you blew those 10 goblins off the ledge back there. I'm telling you, throwing guys in a ravine doesn't count!' 'Quiet!' The dark warrior barked, his voice sounding like a sinister growl. 'I seem to agree with our dark friend here,' the wizard replied, 'as the orc sounded the alarm before Corothas shot him.'
The wizard, Radagast, proceeded to draw power in himself, and channelled streams of energy to himself and the chaos warrior. 'Remember lads, we are here to steal the Chaos icon, not to play mass-murderers.' Toreth walked over towards the door out of this large antechamber, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and ran one hand along the wall next to him. The chaos warrior hissed and reached for his scabbard. The elf, who had been leaning nonchalantly against the wall a moment ago, had closed his eyes and was listening intently. 'A secret door, the barbarian spoke softly.' 'An ambush' grated the chaos warrior. 'Screams of damned souls' spoke the elf. 'You are all right, my friends,' said the wizard 'I sensed it too' and the electricity around the wizard sparked again.
The wall next to the barbarian sprang inwards, and the warrior leapt back and plucked the hammer from his belt. Looking to what came through the door, he gasped and retreated from the opening. He had just joined his companions when the first wave of undead burst from the doorway. Skeletons and zombies attacked in vast numbers, and shadows sprang from the walls, suddenly becoming black cloaked creatures with a grinning skull face and a scythe in their bony claws.
The chaos warrior simply grinned and moved on to the front door, were he began to slaughter his way through the newly arrived orc reinforcements.
With the horde of undead pouring out of the secret corridor, and more streaming through, the wizard analyzed the presence he felt and surmised the undead had to be summoned by an extremely powerful undead sorcerer. Shouting at the top of his lungs: 'My friends, we must kill the vile sorcerer who commands these abominations, and not waste our time with his lackeys!' The elf and barbarian immediately began to fight their way through the undead ranks to protect their valued companion and help him destroy the necromancer. Powdered bones and flying skulls heralded the arrival of the barbarian, while several zombies began to catch fire from the fiery blade of the elf and staggered back from his furious assault. Then they began to fight their way to the entrance of the secret door. The wizard struck enemies everywhere with his sword, but the barbarian and the elf awed him with their killing power. Toreth would simply swing his hammer in a giant figure of eight, and crushed anything unfortunate enough to be standing next to him, while Corothas would lash at everything in reach with so much speed and skill that he cut a path for himself. 'Glad I'm here to help them,' he thought, 'As if I'm much use next to their fighting capabilities ', though he knew full well they needed him along for magical aid and destruction, as much as he needed their combat skills.
With Ancalagon, the chaos warrior, still holding the door against ever increasing numbers of orcs, and even trolls, the only chance they had was to slay the necromancer before they would be overwhelmed, as everyone had suffered their fair share of wounds. Corothas had entered the secret door, which was still pouring forth undead, and swung with his blade, but for every undead sent burning to his demise, two others would take its place. Despairing, he put both his hands on the sword, which now virtually burned white-hot, and unleashed a massive blast of flame from its end, illuminating the entire room and vaporising dozens of undead monsters.
'Go!' he screamed, 'I will hold off the wraiths!' Toreth and Radagast got the hint, and charged into the tunnel, disposing of any undead which lived after the elf's terrifying flame blast. Meanwhile Morgoth ran into problems of his own, having been fighting an ever increasing flow of monsters. But the bigger problem was the ominous shape pushing it's way ever further through the hallway before him towards him. It was revealed as a huge Orc, it's skin so dark it was almost black, wearing what appeared to be blood encrusted plate mail, but shining with a sinister glow. It roared and brought an axe with a head as large as his arm down towards him, and struck a gaping gash in his chest.
The wraiths, blackening the room with their darkness, surrounded the tall elf, dwarfing him in comparison. Hissing sinisterly as they brought their scythes down, the elf brought up a ball of flame around himself to shield himself from their icy attacks. Corothas flung his arms wide, and the ball of flame exploded in a huge blast of fire, catching some skeletons and burning them to ash in a split-second. The wraiths, however, were not very impressed, and cut through his armour like it wasn't there, dealing him terrible wounds.
Toreth and Radagast could feel the ancient evil of the shrivelled and almost fleshless sorcerer who stood before them, malice glowing red in dark eye sockets. The barbarian smashed aside the last of the undead soldiers that barred his way, and proceeded to crush the chest of the undead monstrosity. However, it retaliated simply by grabbing the barbarian's arm and place his other hand on his victims chest. Toreth immediately dropped his weapon, as his arm became powerless and the claw on his chest threatened to freeze his heart. Radagast, though clutching a deep wound in his abdomen, managed to utter a word of power, and blew the shrivelled skin off the skeletal necromancer. Toreth gathered his strength, picked up his hammer and smashed the still standing skeleton to dust in a mighty blow of blue fire. But the spirit of the necromancer yet lived, and hovered over the warrior from the North, whose soul would have been sucked out if the spectral fiend had not been stopped by a blast of power from the wizard, who cast it's corrupted soul deep in the bowels of hell with a mighty and ancient exorcising spell.
The Orc Warlord's axe had just cut through his armour as if it were paper and it was being raised for a second blow. That was all Ancalagon could take before a boiling rage overcame him and, lifting his sword once more, he brought it down with all his might, severing both the head and arm of the orc warlord in a single blow. Turning towards it's followers, he simply stared at them. They fled in screaming terror, leaving at the same time the remaining undead crumbled to dust, their damned souls screaming as they were ripped from their bodies and cast into the winds of magic.
'Well, at least now we know what that secret door held guys.' Spoke the elf in a happy tone.
'Could very well be, my friend, but we still have to find the idol.' Was the obligate answer from the wizard.
Laughing despite their pain, the four warriors prepared to continue on their quest.
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Reviews are very much pleased, and I intend to make more progress in the story as I write more chapters.