A/N

This started out as a fic as part of the Black Library's writing competition, centered around the theme of "Death and Dishonor". Still, as it's pretty clear by now that it's been rejected, I decided to post it here instead, albeit as chapters. Not the greatest piece of writing in the world, but hopefully not the worst.


Warhammer: Shroud of Chaos

Chapter 1: Ambush

Captain Edwin von Klaus hated forests.

It was perhaps a surprising sentiment really, that a man of Talabecland would hate that which surrounded his province. But then again, he was a soldier, who knew of the dangers that forests presented. The Empire had not survived for more than two millennia by mishandling those who fought in its name, and it was thus a given that its soldiers were where they could best serve their emperor. And part of that duty involved patrolling forests-regions where at best brigands could be found and brought to justice. At worst, the servants of the Ruinous Powers of Chaos.

Considering that the servants of said powers were descending upon his detachment right now, von Klaus no longer hated forests. He despised them.

"To arms!" he shouted, turning his warhorse to the trees from which the beastmen were emerging. "In Heldenhammer's name you will not falter!"

It wasn't the most rousing speech in the history of the Old World, but it served its purpose. The soldiers had made themselves battle ready just before the horde of creatures crashed into their lines, only to be met by a combination of wood and metal. The beastmen were masters of the dark forests of the Empire, relying on an unholy combination of stealth and brute force to do battle against their enemy. With the inability to press their surprise to their advantage however, the foul creatures' advance had already stagnated.

A few had made it through the Empire's lines however, roaring for human blood to be spilt to make up for their foul brethren who had already fallen to the Empire's steel. One charged von Klaus himself, roaring something that sounded like a cross between a bleating goat and a dark prayer. It raised its axe, wanting to have the honor of being the one to strike down its foe's leader. With a snarl, von Klaus brought out his broadsword, blood gushing from the creature's neck within seconds. It fell onto the damp earth, ready to receive judgment from Rhya, Mother of the Earth.

And it deserves it too, von Klaus thought, unable to turn his gaze away from the creature. He knew of the stories of the origin of these creatures, how they were a mix of men and beasts molded into a single species by the coming of Chaos to the world, unable to return to what they once were. In a sense, one could almost pity them. Yet after millennia of war with the beasts, any sense of pity had evaporated, replaced only by fear and loathing. Death was the only answer to deal with these creatures, and turning back to face the battle line, von Klaus was intent on dealing it.

One problem though-the battle line was no longer there.

Well, that wasn't completely true. The soldiers were still fighting in a line akin to what they had been in a few minutes ago, but were far removed from the organized ranks that it had once featured. Both man and beast were engaged in a thick melee, where the beastmen could use their superior strength to their advantage without fear of being outmaneuvered. Slowly, but surely, they gained the upper hand.

The captain couldn't move. He tried to speak, but could not bring himself to do so. The sun was setting unusually quickly, the glowing eyes of Chaos' children providing what little illumination there was. Screams of the dead and dammed echoed throughout the night, the names of the gods on the men's lips. Sigmar, Taal, even Ulric…von Klaus could hear them all. Not as battle cries, but prayers. Prayers for deliverance from the darkness descending upon them, salvation from the terror that was reflected in their eyes.

Given how the beastmen tore into them, they may as well have prayed for nothing more than a swift death.

"F…fall back," stammered von Klaus, unable to do anything more. Terror was descending upon him, as if the beastmen had somehow brought more than steel to battle. His men were falling left, right and center. Spears were broken in two, swords lay scattered along the ground, the blades of halberds missing from their shafts. The blood of Sigmar's children fed the earth, yet would not go to Rhya. No, this blood was feeding something else. Something far darker. Something that weighed down on von Klaus and his men, while simultaneously amplifying the beastmen's natural bloodlust.

Another beastmen came his way, just as bloodthirsty as the last. Yet unlike last time, von Klaus could do nothing. He waited…waited for his terror to end, to be released from paralysis by the touch of death. As it was, the only reason that he was not released was that his horse, Valmir, snapped. The same terror that had affected his men had affected his mount as well, galloping out of the beastman's reach.

"Retreat!" von Klaus yelled, or rather screamed, considering the pitch of his voice. "We make for Talabheim!"

It was not really his decision to head to the city state located at the heart of the Great Forest, but rather that of Valmir, galloping northwest to where the city lay. The terror was beginning to suffocate him, clearing his mind of logic and reason. Feeling the air close in around him, von Klaus knew that anything that had made him a good officer had been swept aside as easily as his men had within minutes of the start of the abominations' ambush. He glanced backwards, hoping beyond hope that he was not alone in his flight.

He instantly returned to facing forward.

Gods have mercy, von Klaus murmured, closing his eyes as his breathing returned to normal. He didn't know what had happened, what had dishonored him and cost his men his lives. They were all in this together, him and those who followed him. They were dead now, hacked to pieces by unholy might and powers of darkness. As far as he could tell, he was the only one who had survived, saved by animal instinct that unlike his own, had been more resilient against the suffocation that came from the forest, a feeling that he could sense even now.

All things considered, he wasn't sure who had suffered more.