Prologue:
Glintburg Burning
The northern reaches of Glintburg danced with a fiery glow. The flames licked hungrily at the houses, setting fire to rooves and shattering windows. The clamour of steel and the cries of the dying echoed into the night. The panicked braying of horses rang and the thunder of hooves rumbled across the courtyard as Knights charged into a mass of ravening horrors.
It was the end of the battle. With this charge, and Sigmar willing, men would triumph over monsters.
Border Prince Magnus Glint rubbed his red-gold beard and sighed heavily. For the last eight hours his forces had battled viciously against the orc and mutant raiders. They had poured down from the Black Mountains, a tide of evil intent on razing Glintburg. They were led by a beast: Gulthor, Black Orc Chaos Champion, a monster with three arms, horns and built like a living engine of destruction. He had already ravaged much of Glintburg, slaying hundreds of soldiers in his bloodlust. And the traitor Siareth was helping him do it.
As he watched from the uppermost level of his castle walls, the bulk of the enemy army was broken beneath the flower of Glintburg's cavalry. Lances spitted goblins and threw orcs to the ground. Swords swept through the chaotic fiends with impunity. The fighting was not one-sided though. The beasts were tough, and many knights were pulled from their saddles and gutted. Magnus could see things with fang-lined jaws snapping and clawing at the armoured men. Tentacles slick with blood and slime writhed around the horses' legs, pulling them down and then slaughtering the knights before they could rise. Magnus grimaced, but he knew the knights were his last hope of saving his city.
If only his son were here. Surely his blade would be the finest on the field.
Finally, the knights forced the foe-beasts into a rout. The hooves of the horses became bloodied as they trampled corpses into the dust. Everywhere monsters were slain with stubborn determination, although the cost was high in the lives of men.
With a roar of defiance Gulthor ordered the retreat.
As the army of monsters fled from the wrath of the knights, a section of burning wall tumbled down, crushing one of the mounted warriors.
'Damn you Siareth!' Magnus howled to the uncaring sky, slamming his fist down on the parapet. 'A curse on you! May Sigmar strike you down!'
A lone rider, clad in black robes, galloped away from the burning city. The figure headed north, towards Black Fire Pass. When he was far enough away, he turned to get one last look at hated Glintburg.
'And a curse on you, Magnus Glint. I swear now that I will bring you down, and your whole damned city with you.'
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