Across the north-western realms of the Empire, fires raged across the forested lands. The provinces of Hochland, Nordland and Middenland were under siege by marauding hordes of beastmen, mutants and cultists. Armies marched as the state troops of the three provinces began rallying to combat the ever-growing horde, with casualties now mounting in the thousands. Entire fortresses and cities were being assailed while many towns and villages were burnt to the ground, their inhabitants either having fled or been slaughtered by the chaos hordes.
Within the burnt out ruins of one such village sat Khorieus. Divested of much of his armor, his upper body was laid bare to the cool morning air as he applied a salve made from a mixture of medicinal herbs over his battered body. Ever since the battle against the plague bearers he noticed the power of his amulet had weakened, its healing energies had been taxed combating the pestilence within him. When his amulet had completed its work he gave thanks and prayer to the goddess Isha and removed the piece of jewelry, placing it into a pouch alongside his pledge ring, allowing it to recover its energy.
For days now Khorieus had followed the trail of destruction left behind by the beastmen horde, he had seen many villages such as the one he was currently within in varying states of ruin. Some had been completely destroyed with only ashes and bones to mark what had once been there, he had seen some with the structures smashed but not burnt with the humans inhabitants nailed to the walls, each showing signs of having met brutally messy and painful deaths.
After applying the salve he began to once more put back his armor. The Ithilmar plates of his armor had once been silvery white and quite beautiful to look upon, it still was in a way but after more than a month of hard fighting against countless foes, some with brute strength, some with speed and tactics and a few with sorcery. His armor had now become dented in places where the arcane runes could not fully protect him from mighty blows which would have killed him had it not been for its enchantments, its silvery hue was now stained with the remains of old blood or ash.
When he had finished re-equipping his armor, he stood up and went for his axe, his bow and his quiver which only had three arrows remaining. His weapons were propped by the side of what was once a hearth, now ruined into a few slabs of bricks, strapping his axe to his back over his fur cloak, he set his quiver by his right hip and kept the bow of in his right hand. Making sure that he had all of his belongings, Khorieus whispered a prayer to Kurnous for a successful hunt.
Many hours after leaving the ruined village, Khorieus ran across the wild brush of the forest hardly slowed by his plate armor, he felt a primal sense of exhilaration as he forged across this untamed land, his senses were alert for any signs of beastmen but had found nothing fresh. Despite the canopy of the forest, he could still feel the Winds of Magic in the air and through it he could follow the fetid trail of the daemon he hunted.
As he ran through the forest, his nose picked up a faint stench of rot and decay, slowing down his pace he began following the smell as he readied an arrow. He had slowed pace down so he could quietly prowl in the shadows, in a way he was glad that the blood which stained his armor was there for it helped prevent any errant glints of light from giving away his position. Creeping forward with the smell now growing stronger, he tensed his limbs and notched an arrow, when he found the source of the stench he was a bit surprised to the forest floor littered with the bodies of several dozens of slain beastmen.
Still cautiously moving ahead, he surveyed the area to find that the only living things were the wolves and crows which gorged themselves upon the bodies of beastmen. The earth around the area was trodden and reduced to mud, from the prints left upon the earth it seemed to Khorieus as if the beastmen were charging or chasing at something. He passed closely to a wolf which began to snarl and growl at the elf, Khorieus returned it with one of his own and the wolf grunted, it began barking at some of its pack mates and the wolves began working together to drag the body away while cautiously eyeing the elf.
Kneeling over the corpse of one beastman, Khorieus gazed down upon the ugly and shaggy creature. Like many beastmen it was a hideous mix of human and goat, its eyes were milky white and its tongue lolled out from its mouth filled with sharp teeth, the corpse looked to be less than a day old, by his estimates it looked as if the beastman was slain earlier this morning. Upon the beast's chest over a crude tattoo of the eight pointed star he found a single clean entry wound over where its heart should be.
It was clear to the elf that the beastman was slain by a single well placed arrow which pierced the foul creature's heart and killing it instantly. He looked to the ground around the beastman but could find no tracks of what had removed the arrow; he looked to another corpse and found another beastman, this time one with more human-like features was dead with both eyes having been punctured by arrows.
As he began to examine more of the bodies and the area around them, an image of what had occurred began to appear in Khorieus mind. The beastmen were on the march, braying and chanting to the dark gods, several of the beasts suddenly fell, their bodies pierced with arrows. They caught sight or smell of what was shooting at them and charged at its direction, more arrows were fired and more beastmen were slain, as they charged forwards like angry bulls, they were assailed by more and more arrows which rained death upon the horde, some coming from the front, others came from the flanks of the horde.
As their numbers began to significantly diminish, some tried to flee and were shot in the back, other tried to fight but were all slain, it was not a battle Khorieus realized, it was a slaughter done with an admirable degree of efficiency. He began to wonder what had caused this before he caught a faint smell of something out-of-place, glancing to his right and using his peripheral vision, he thought he saw something watching him, taking a deep breath of fetid air into his lungs; he exhaled and burst into sudden fluid motion.
Just as he suspected he saw slight a rustle among the brush, he ran towards it with an arrow at the ready, with only three arrows left he had to make each shot count. Heading into brush he caught a faint smell of herbs and spices, looking down to the earth he saw ever so light tracks that would have been impossible to spot for were it not for his keen eyes. Whoever was watching him was skilled in the way of forestcraft, but centuries of experience had honed the Chracian's awareness.
Following the tracks through the forest he heard the sudden snap of twig, pointing his bow at the direction of the sound, he heard the swift and quiet footsteps from behind him. Spinning back with bow raised his sight settled upon the head of an arrow pointed directly towards his unarmored face, the arrow was held notched and ready upon a bow of elegant and unmistakable craftsmanship.
The archer was half a foot shorter than Khorieus, holding a fine bow and garbed in a cloak of leaves, the archer's face was covered by a kerchief exposing only a bit of pale flesh and almond-shaped emerald-green eyes. While the archer's bow was ready to fire into Khorieus's face, so was the asur's own bow which was directly aimed at the archer's face with the arrow already misting with arcane rime. Wood Elves spitefully thought the Chracian as he realized the identity of the slayers of the beastmen, deserters and traitors with no sense of responsibility.
Khorieus knew that he was surrounded, likely there might be more than a few of the rustic folk with arrows at the ready. While he doubted that their weapons could pierce his armor, he knew well enough that any competent marksman of his race would simply aim for the most exposed point of a foe's armor to which of course would be his face. He had no idea exactly how many Wood Elves he would have to fight if it came to violence, and he did not know if they had any mages among them. There was also the fact that Khorieus had little desire to spill the blood of fellow elves, unless of course they were Druchii but that would be a far different matter.
"Lower your weapons, Asur" hissed the archer in a clearly male voice with a threatening tone and speaking in a bastardized version of Eltharin, "and you will not be harmed" he finished.
Lowering his weapon, Khorieus glared venomously at the other elf, his eyes promised violence and attempting to provoke the archer into doing something foolish. The archer understood Khorieus intent but was not baited, as the Chracian lowered his weapon so did the other elf who glared defiantly at the Asur. A moment of tense silence had passed before a voice called out from the side.
"Naios cease!" shouted the voice of a maiden. The archer named Naios quietly muttered the name of the Mirai before turning to face the direction of where the voice came, emerging from the shadows was an elf maiden, garbed much like Naios, both wore dark brown leather jerkins of a style common amongst hunters in Ulthuan. The maiden's cloak was made from an elegant forest green cloth, but instead of a bow she held a white wooden staff with a green jewel placed upon the head of the staff, a mage Khorieus noted.
Naios lowered his bow and acquiesced to the mage's orders, he raised his right hand and began making hand signals Khorieus recognized, Naios signaled the other wood elves to stand down. The maiden whispered harshly to the archer who gave one last look of warning to the Chracian and sending a clear wordless promise of vengeance and violence if anything were to happen to the maiden.
As the archer retreated into the brush, likely with the rest of their band still watching, Khorieus turned his attention to the maiden. Pulling her hood down, the maiden was quite young and rather pretty in the eyes of Khorieus, he guessed she was less than a hundred and sixty years old, a mere child by the counting of elves. She had sea blue eyes and golden hair tied into a pony tail with flesh of healthy pink pallor. The maiden bowed to him in a manner which surprised Khorieus, he bowed to the maiden as well for it was a formal gesture of greeting common among the courts of the nobility in Ulthuan.
At least some of these yokels kept their manners thought the Chracian. The maiden looked up to Khorieus and said "I apologize for my cousin's hostility. He has been charged with the protection of our realm and the weeks of battle are a strain upon us all".
"There is little need for apologies when one is simply performing his duties" replied Khorieus trying to sound as polite as possible. "I see from back there that the slain beastmen were your kin's doing"
The maiden nodded with a look of relief "As I have said, our kin have been fighting the beastmen tribes. Our queen has called a muster for the clans to gather and prepare for war. Do the armies of the Phoenix King march as well?"
Shaking his head Khorieus replied "No, Ulthuan has sent no armies here to Elthin Arvan as far as I know" the maiden gave him a somewhat disappointed look at his words before he continued "I am a lone traveler hunting for a greater daemon of the plague god, I believe the daemon has joined the enemy"
The maiden gave Khorieus a curious look at the mention of the greater daemon "You are correct for our scouts have reported the presence of a Great Unclean One leading a large herd of beastmen towards a human fortress. But why would one such as you seek to hunt a greater daemon by yourself?"
"By chance really" was all Khorieus said "I can tell you more along way if our paths lead the same way, other than that I have no difficulty in tracking the daemon and I shall be on my own way if we are done here"
The maiden nodded to him "We hunt the daemon and its minions as well, for if the realms of men fall then it will be us the children of chaos will come after next"
"I suppose we should join forces then, lead on" said Khorieus. The maiden shouted a command to her kin to depart then she gestured to Khorieus to follow her,
"I am Sariel Moonstone of Lauerlorn" she said warmly
"Khorieus of Chrace" he replied "Lord and of the House of Alatanrieth"
Khorieus had little difficulty keeping up with the wood elves, they were skilled like the Autarii of Naggaroth, but years of fighting and serving alongside the Shadow Warriors of Nagarthye had greatly improved his own skill as a scout. Their travel occurred without incident with only the maiden Sariel inquisitively asking Khorieus about Ulthuan, its people, its culture and many more things like a child asking a parent for a story. Among other questions were also those regarding the fashions and styles of the nobility, he attempted to answer them to the best he could but being from Chrace, the Asur of his homeland saw little need for such frivolities that an Averlornian would consider to be of serious matter.
While Khorieus politely told the maiden what he could, inwardly he was amazed at what ignorance the rustic folk had of Ulthuan in regards to many of its notable locations such as the White Tower, Averlorn, or Anlec but was forced to remind himself of their self-imposed isolation. He had always had a rather negative opinion of the Wood Elves, he knew that they were the colonists who refused to return to Ulthuan after the Phoenix King recalled them. He had learned about how during the early years in the war against the Druchii, the colonists did not send aid back to Ulthuan to aid the armies of the Phoenix King, in fact the only ones who did were those aligned with the Witch King.
During the War of the Beard, when conflict arose between the colonists and the dwarfs, Ulthuan sent thousands of its soldiers away from their vigil against the Druchii, and only to die in a wasteful war with the Phoenix King slain and the Crown of Aenarion lost to the rock eaters. Yet the final straw was when the next Phoenix King called for the withdrawal of the elves back to Ulthuan, many of these colonists refused saying that Ulthuan's concerns were no longer their own and renouncing their fealties.
Even in modern times, Khorieus had heard tales of the hostilities the Wood Elves had towards the Asur, they refused to acknowledge the rightfulness of the Phoenix Throne and they refused to side with the Asur against the Druchii who would plunge the world into slavery and death, even when Chaos threatened to overrun the world such as during the last Great War they did nothing as Lord Teclis and his companions fought and bled for the lands of men.
He had even heard of how envoys and ambassadors from Ulthuan had even 'mysteriously' disappeared during diplomatic missions towards the Wood Elf realms. Traitors and deserters all of them and yet in Ulthuan most thought of Wood Elves as of being a curiosity with many wondrous tales, a bit like those the humans would often come to believe about elves in general.
After less than an hour of running, they arrived at the wood elf war camp. Several animal hide tents were erected in a manner similar to those used by the high elves, with delicate candle-lit lanterns gently hanging from ropes tied from one tent to another. The wood elves themselves were primarily garbed in leather armor, most were equipped with bows while a few had spears, swords or shields, he had also noted that many of them had steel helmets with the familiar conical shape so common amongst the warriors of elf-kind. He had counted perhaps around a hundred elves, hardly the numbers needed for a head on engagement, but it was likely that there would be more out in the forest.
His presence had been quickly noted amongst wood elves. Like most Chracians, Khorieus was much taller than the elves of other realms. The party of elves were led into the camp by Naios, of whom Khorieus had learned that the archer had been amongst a sect of rangers known as Ghoststriders. It seemed most of these Ghoststriders were more at home in the wilds than in the company of others, something the Chracian could identify with.
Escorted by Sariel and Naios to the headquarters of the army's commanders, Khorieus was required to give up his axe, bow and knife. He silently chastised the wood elves as they searched him for they missed places such as behind the faulds of his armor or underneath his gauntlets for if he were a Druchii assassin he could have concealed weapons there and then their leaders would be dead. Ushered into the tent, he found three other elves pouring over maps and debating upon a course of action.
Of the three elves one was a fierce maiden clad in silvery scale mail armor with a green cloak, she looked to be only a century or so younger than Khorieus and had the look of a classical lady of war with a rich red mane of hair and eyes of jade, her features and demeanor reminded Khorieus of the haughty Dragon Princes of Caledor. Another was a golden haired youth who looked to be of Ellyrian descent, clad in studded leather armor with a cavalry bow strapped to his back and saber to his side, the young lord certainly would not look out-of-place among the horse lords.
The last of the elves was a large but old warrior who looked to be around Khorieus age, clad in plate armor of black and purple which reminded him too much of the Druchii, the last lord had raven black hair and pale skin as well, but the sheer size of his physique despite the armor suggested a mix descent of Nagarthye and Chrace. The lord looked up to Khorieus with dark purple eyes and spoke
"Who is this Asur who enters? We have no time to treat the envoys of the Phoenix Throne" said the eldest elf in a deep gravelly voice.
Sariel stepped forward and bowed to the three leaders "My lords and lady" she said with great respect "This is Khorieus of Chrace, of Ulthuan, Lord of the House of Alatanrieth" the three commanders looked to Khorieus, each one appraising the Chracian before the lady spoke
"He has the look of a highborn" she said curtly. Straightening up she bowed to Khorieus in the same manner Sariel had done earlier, she was followed by the two other lords of which Khorieus would once more reciprocate. With formalities ended she continued "I am Lady Kayren of the Sword Wing clan" gesturing to the young lord she continued "Lord Eranath of the Sabara clan" the young lord nodded his head. Looking to the last lord she was about to introduce him but the elf cut her off
"There is little need to introduce me Kay" said the older elf, the lady nodded and their attention turned back to Khorieus "I am Lord Yrieus of the Varinai clan, and as I repeat we do not have time to be hospitable to the Phoenix King's servants, we are quite busy as it is with an army of beastmen being led by a daemon"
"I am not a diplomat from Ulthuan" replied Khorieus who drew quite a few curious looks from the elf lords. "For weeks I have been hunting this daemon and seeking to banish to back to the Realm of Chaos."
The young lord Eranath was the first to respond "And you hunt this daemon by yourself? I mean no offense but that is just pure madness!"
"You can tell he is Eran" said Kayren "I can see it in his eyes and his stance how much he is gripped by the Bloody Handed One." Upon a closer look Khorieus could see it in the lady's own eyes that she intimately understood the hunger for war and bloodshed which had consumed him albeit to a lesser degree and yet he could also see the discipline and self-control she had, immediately the lady had gained a measure of respect from Khorieus, and he felt sure that the feeling was mutual.
"Be that as it may, we still have to deal with the chaos horde rampaging through Nordland" said Yrieus.
"My scouts already reported of Fort Weiss being destroyed in an all out assault, the defenders were all slaughtered but the casualties they inflicted upon the horde has been tremendous. If we assail the chaos horde now we have a chance of preventing them from linking up with the army marching towards Middenheim"
The two other elves nodded in agreement, it seemed to Khorieus that whatever plan they had been in the last stages before finalization. It was then the young lord's turn to speak "I have sent missives to the Imperials and we can be sure that we can coordinate with their forces."
"It is so nice of you Eran that you would choose to play with the Kegh-mon" teased Kayren. Khorieus was unfamiliar with that last term but it sounded similar to the Asur Eltharin's word for humans. While the Chracian himself had fought in many battles in the past and had on many occasions commanded regiments of his own, he felt that it would be inappropriate to telling these yokels how to lead their own troops into battle.
The lady then looked to Khorieus and asked "And what of you, Asur? Where do you wish to find yourself when the battle begins?"
"As a noble son of Ulthuan" replied the Chracian " have received training whether it be upon horse back or with a bow and spear but I am best suited for bearing my axe into the thickest of the battle" the lady then gave a feral grin to Khorieus
"Then I invite you to stand with the warriors of my clan, for our swordsmen are unrivalled amongst the kin of Laurelon" proudly boasted the lady.
"Then I shall graciously accept your offer Lady Kayren" replied Khorieus. With that the three elf lords began finalizing their battle plan while Khorieus was escorted out of the tent and back into the camp of the Wood Elves.
The following night had been a relatively restful one for Khorieus, while he had been bothered by more of the endless questionings of Sariel to which his patience has begun to wear thin; when sleep had finally come to Khorieus it was one which he had found peaceful and reminiscent of old days campaigning in the name of Phoenix King. The following morning he had broken his fast at early dawn just before the sun rose with a stew of vegetables and bread, he had adjusted and made sure his gear was properly equipped; his amulet was once more placed around his neck for he wished to be ready. A warrior of the Sword Wing clan escorted Khorieus to their regiment and the wood elves began to sound the march.
Surveying the Wood Elf army, Khorieus noted just as he had on the previous day that were more than he expected, composed of over nine clans with close to three hundred soldiers. The army itself was primarily composed of archers with only a few cavalry units, not many melee troops and no Eagle Claws. In fact he even noted that most of those melee troops marched under the viridian banners of the Sword Wing clan which depicted a great falcon carrying a sword in its talons, clearly reference to the legend of the Dawnlight. He had also noted six robed maidens wielding staves; Sariel among them had taken up a song along with the minstrels and musicians of the army.
The song was known to Khorieus for it was an ancient rite sung since the time of Aenarion when he first did battle against the legions of Chaos. It began with a chorus of voices from the maidens which was quickly followed by the minstrels playing upon instruments similar to what humans called a violin. The sound of drums echoes into the forest in perfect rhythm with the song, the sound of began to stir the heart of Khorieus, emboldening him, not that he needed any of course.
The army marched forward with parties of kithbands and solitary Ghoststriders guiding the army towards the enemy. Already they began finding the trail of dung, destruction and detritus of the passing beastman army. There was also the unmistakable air of rot and pestilence in the air and Khorieus instincts told him that the daemon would be near. It was during the late morning that the elven army finally came into contact with the army of Chaos.
In the distance they could hear the chorus of bleating and roars from the chaos army, they could hear the loud booms of the Imperial cannons as they tried desperately to fend off the rampaging horde. The elves would then find the sight of a large Imperial castle already with its walls breached in three sections and fires blazing within, yet still it was clear that there were humans within who continued to fight despite all odds.
Yrieus signaled the advance and the elves began breaking up into many small groups, each disappearing into the forest. The song of the minstrels and the mages began to change into a more aggressive tune, the voices, he recognized the song as one dedicated to Khaine and sung before battles, and he felt the Winds of Magic stir as the power of the song began to grow and adding fuel to the flames of his warrior spirit.
Gripping his axe tightly in both hands he whispered to the weapon which began to glow brightly as if it were being heated and the air around it began to shimmer, looking to his side he saw the warriors of the Sword Wing clan gripping their blades tightly, the elves advanced forwards into the chaotic horde with the song of Khaine upon their lips.
With swift precision the elven army struck the back of the chaos horde, volleys of arrows flew into the backs of the beastmen as they scrambled on intent in carrying out slaughter within the Imperial bastion. It took a while for the blood crazed beasts to realize the army which attacked them from behind, hardly requiring encouragement, the beastmen at the back of the horde began charging straight into the elven host.
"Here they come!" Shouted Khorieus, he could see that there were so many beasts charging towards him, good he thought as he began to pick up his pace and roared like the lions of his homeland. The first beastman that died was an ungor which attempted to skewer Khorieus, the beastman thrust its spear forwards to which Khorieus parried to his right with the flat of his axe and returning with a swing to his left as his weapon severed the beastman's head which spun in the air in a complete circle and spattering blood.
He was quickly assailed by a second beastman another ungor which attempted flank the high elf from his left. Khorieus swiftly drove the bottom of his axe's handle into the ungor's jaw, suprising the creature and staggering it before bringing his axe down in an overhead chop which split the beast's head in half and releasing a fountain of gore as he wrenched his axe out. He did not have time to savor his kill for an ungor wielding a crude scimitar slashed at Khorieus, the elf released his right hand grip from his axe and brought his armored forearm into the path of the sword.
His right arm crashed against the blade and Khorieus gritted his teeth as the impact sent pain shooting into his arm, but the ensorcelled plates held and with a left-handed swing he struck his axe into the beastman's hip and eliciting a roar of pain and rage as the super heated metal of his axe burnt at the gor's flesh, he whispered the command word once more to his axe and the blade ignited into white fire and causing the flesh and meat to blacken and char. The beastman's agony was ended when an arrow struck into its left eye, ripping his axe out of the corpse he quickly went upon the assault to the nearest beast.
Khorieus began his butchery in earnest, his heart sang with joy as the murder lust rose even greater. This is what he was waiting for he thought, to have the roar of your enemies within his ears, to have that odious mélange of blood, sweat, ash and loosed bowels so common upon the fields of battle, to have adrenaline course through his veins as he rent open the flesh of his foes.
The warriors of the Sword Wing turned out to be something quite different from what Khorieus had expected, they danced and twirled like acrobats while wielding swords and spears. Their agility and speed were like those of the Witch Elves of Naggaroth but they fought with the skill of one mastered in the way of the War Dance. He witnessed as one warrior charged into the descending axe of a bestigor, only to spin at the last moment barely a hair breadth away from the blade and impale his sword into the side of the beast's neck.
He witnessed a maiden wielding a pair of swords and quite masterfully parrying and blocking strikes with a precision that would have intrigued a Sword Master of Hoeth; the beasts around the maiden grew frustrated and angry. As one they charged her with weapons at the ready and each one fell with blades upon their backs as they did not notice the swordsmen that crept behind them as their attentions were turned upon the maiden.
Already the elves had made quick work of the beastmen at the back of the horde; it was likely that the more powerful ones were already inside the Imperial bastion. As they began to cut their way to the head of the horde, Khorieus began to notice the change among the beastmen, it seemed that many of the ones which had already made it into the bastion were those favored by the plague god. He noted how so many of the creatures had weeping sores and pustules growing out of their bodies, whenever his axe struck a body and burnt flesh there was no longer the smell of charred fresh meat but one more akin to the burning of spoilt meat.
Stepping over the ruined masonry that had once been a large section of the Imperial defenses, he began to see the bodies of the human soldiers, many had the same signs of disease, it seemed that the unlucky creatures had been dealing with plague from within their fortress before the battle had begun. Climbing over the body of a giant which had been riddled with bullets and its head reduced to a blood stump, likely the result from a cannon-shot to the monster's face. From atop the dead giant, Khorieus was able to get a good view of the battle within the bastion.
The Chaos army was already besieging the inner walls, many of the structures between the outer and inner wall were ablaze or were being wrecked by the Beastmen. The Winds of Magic were stronger here and Khorieus could see the clearly bloated form of the Great Unlcean One and its host of lesser daemons. Whispering to his axe to calm down, Khorieus stowed away his axe and brought out his bow, removing an arrow from his quiver he took aim at the Greater Daemon as it spewed noxious bile that began to corrode the gate. As arcane ice began to form around the arrow of Khorieus, he suddenly felt an influx of energy into his arrow, looking to his sides he saw a pair of sorceresses chanting in unison and channeling power from the Wind of Light.
Raising his bow to face the sky, Khorieus let loose the arrow which soared high into the air. Despite the sun shining down upon them, the Chracian could see the bright flash of energy which burst from the projectile. When the arrow finally began its descent, it looked as if it were a star falling from the sky, the arrow then fell straight into the meaty shoulder of the greater daemon. The projectile exploded in a flash of arcane light, searing the greater daemon and many of its minions, the greater daemon roared in pain and fury as the cleansing light of Hysh burned away its very essence while many of its minions were reduced to ashes.
The daemon then turned its baleful gaze upon Khorieus and the sorceresses, the daemon opened wide its maw and a swarm of locusts flew out. At first Khorieus believed the swarm would come for them but instead the swarm began descending upon the bodies of those humans and beastmen slain in the battle. The odious insects began climbing into the wounds and orifices of the dead which soon began to twitch and spasm.
By the dozens the dead rose in unison, each one weeping foul-smelling pus from their eyes, their ears and mouths. Rolling his neck and shoulders, Khorieus brought up his axe and tightened his grip, charging forwards with axe trailing by his waist and shouting in exaltation the name of Ulthuan. As he charged into the swarm of undead, Khorieus watched as several balls of fire flew past him and exploded into the dead, roaring for his axe, the weapon ignited in time as it fell upon the head of a dead Imperial with his entrails hanging out. He swiped his axe from side to side, cleaving the limbs, heads and bodies of the plague zombies, the creatures in question were slow shamblers that attempted to batter Khorieus with their weapons, he did what he could to block or parry these assaults while those he was unable to struck against the enchanted plates of his armor.
The smell of the dead had become unbearable to Khorieus as the reek of death and disease grew stronger. A zombie vomited viscous bile upon the elf and he fought the urge to gag and to spew out his breakfast, he snarled in anger and decapitated the zombie before another one struck his shoulder. He began adopting a series of wide swings to cleave or to knock one zombie into another, it was fortunate that they did not fight with any regard for defense, but their sheer numbers were like trying to fight against a tide from the ocean.
Feeling the tremors of heavy footsteps, Khorieus looked up to see the greater daemon was coming after him, spinning about-face along with his axe, he cleaved the body of a zombified gor. Khorieus fought his way through the zombies trying to get to open ground while the greater deamon charged its way right through them; it laughed light-hearted apologies at the zombies as its massive bulk crushed many of them.
As he fought to find clear ground, he saw a sphere of golden light fly towards him. The sphere struck Khorieus and exploded in a wave of warm healing energy, Khorieus felt invigorated by its magic and zombies around him began to spasm and fall still as the pestilence which animated them began to dissipate. A quick glance to the source he saw Sariel and another mage channeling the winds of Chamon and Hysh into spells of healing for the wood elf soldiers who had engaged the zombies.
The greater daemon roared in fury at the elves at the sight of its gifts being destroyed. From the daemon's belly several entrails sprang forth like vipers from Lustria. The entrails wrapped around the bodies of three of the mages and Khorieus knew he had to act quickly, charging into the path of where the entrails extended he brought his axe down severing one then another. Thanks to his quick work the daemon was unable to drag two of the mages towards it while one was lifted away only by a short distance and was quickly aided by her kin.
Many of the elf archers had already taken position upon the walls of the bastion; they rained arrows upon the greater daemon and its zombies while the mages unleashed a volley of spells, from the inner wall a series of booms from the cannons of the Imperials launched massive balls of iron straight into the Great Unclean One. Large chunks of the daemon's body exploded in a shower of rotted flesh and gore, the daemon bellowed in rage as Khorieus charged it. It brought up its massive rusted sword and thrust it forwards with surprising speed at Khorieus, the high elf dodged the blade barely in time to the daemon's left and his axe descended upon the daemon's wrist and severing the appendage.
The elves began striking the daemon with more spells of Hysh, and the very essence of the Great Unclean One began to unravel. Not wishing to be cheated of his prey, Khorieus rushed forwards now with a path clear to its foul face intent on landing the killing blow. Although he had faced daemons and followers of the plague god in the past, he had never gotten used to the hideous countenance of such creatures. The daemon withdrew its arm and tried to rise, but not quickly enough before Khorieus slammed the blade of his axe into the daemon's forehead.
The white fire burned and bubbled the flesh of the daemon, the stench now had become ever worse to the point that Khorieus could not even resist. He vomited in disgust at the sheer smell of the dying daemon, he heard the daemon begin to laugh and Khorieus knew he was in trouble, reaching for his axe he was forced to tug it from the daemon's face as it continued to laugh hysterically.
When he had finally torn his weapon out he began to sprint as quickly as he could, he felt the force of the explosion as the daemon's body burst like a pustule being lanced. The daemon's corpse showered the surrounding area with rotten meat and bone, Khorieus himself had stumbled from the explosion. With the daemon's banishment the zombies continued their advance, the elves rained arrows upon the swarm while the remaining beastmen and daemons began to retreat but their escape route had been cut off by the elves and the fire from the remaining Imperials.
With desperation fuelling them, the remnants of chaos army tried to fight their way passed the elves but the combined volleys of their mages and archers proved too much and in the end none made it out alive. As the battle ended the elves began withdrawing from the bastion, the elf lord Eranath took a number of his guards to the remaining human defenders to see what the situation had been for the Imperials. He would return later with grim news that the remaining defenders were either dead or dying from disease; they had already doused burning oil and black powder across the inner sections of the bastion and were preparing to cleanse the place of the corruption and disease.
Not wishing to remain, the elves double timed their withdrawal and in the distance they watched as explosions rocked the bastion and fires began consuming all that lay within.
The following evening of the battle, had been one of more grim news. While the previous battle had only resulted in light loses for the wood elves, the chaos horde were already on the way to lay siege to the cities of Salzenmund, Middenheim and various other Imperial settlements. While the elf lords agreed to continue the fight, they would only do so to ensure that the land around Laurelorn Forest would be secure from any imminent threat.
While Khorieus agreed to join the campaign across Nordland, he tried to convince the wood elves that they should also hunt the armies in the provinces of Middenland and Hochland. His words fell upon deaf ears for the elf lords claimed that the Imperials of the other provinces could take care of themselves. Khorieus seethed at their reluctance and cowardice to take the fight further but reminded himself that he had no authority over them.
As one battle was won, countless more raged across the north-western realms. The drums of war echoed across the horizon, mingling with the howls of beast both natural and unnatural. Fires raged and death followed, but amidst this conflict walked those who fought in the shadows. Their deeds would never fully be known by the rest of the Empire, in the shadows of the forest Khorieus hunted and did battle with the war bands and cults of chaos, his axe ending their existences bound by flesh.
He had mercilessly hunted the beasts and cults alongside the Kithbands and Ghoststriders. He had met many other wood elves and had time to revise a few of his opinions about them. Eventually though Khorieus was forced to leave Laurelon after many younger elves began asking him about Ulthuan and he began telling them of the birthplace of the elves. They too had rather odd tales about Ulthuan, some of which may have once been true in ages past but other were nothing more than fanciful tales. He was told that his influence had become a negative one towards the youths, the elders claimed it was the influence of Khaine that Khorieus had spread but he knew the truth to be that he had filled more than a few heads with ideas of leaving to see Ulthuan.
And so Khorieus left Laurelorn and Nordland, embittered at being cast out and seeking to vent his frustration on any unfortunate greenskins, beastman or outlaw that got in his way. He continued his travels across the Empire seeking for greater battles and bloodshed.