Fire rained from the sky as the war machines of the Infernal Kings belched forth their destructive payloads. Countless skeletal warriors were reduced to ashes as balls of fire struck against the armies of Numas. Leading the charge of the Numasi legion, Ahnutep II rode upon his golden chariot. Driving the mighty war chariot himself as he rode alongside his wife Tahirah and Tomb Herald Asim, just as they had done in life, now they rode to war in undeath.
Fittingly, it was against the very foe which he had come to hate. Pointing his khopesh at the warriors of the Infernal Kings, Ahnutep released a loud and dry war cry as he signaled for his maryannu to strike. The enchanted sands of the Blessed Land provided the chariots with a dense screen to hide behind as they rode into the rear of the Infernal Kings army .
As the chariots rode over the sandy dunes, Ahnutep's chariots emerged from the sandstorm. The golden plates upon their chariots captured the full glory of Ptra, in response the Infernal Kings and their slaves began turning their war machines around, but it was too late. With a crash of metal, wood and bone against flesh and dark steel, blood was spilled upon the sands as Ahnutep's Khopesh beheaded a green skin slave.
Tahirah and Asim quickly leapt off from the back of his chariot. Armed with swords and shields, he looked back to see the silver sword of his wife stab in and out of the flesh of a scarred tan skinned and corpulent beast. His herald guarded her flank and with great sweeps of his khopesh, he decapitated several warriors of the Infernal Kings and the slave creatures which sought to stop them. The chariots which followed the Tomb King carefully avoided his wife and Herald as they disgorged several Tomb Guards as well.
From the sands burst several Sepulcheral Stalkers, Tomb Scorpions and Swarms which quickly went onto the assault upon the Infernal Kings. Focusing his gaze ahead of him, Ahnutep saw a warrior of the Infernal Kings get caught in the rotating blades upon the side of his chariot's wheel. With a dry laugh he saw the stunted creature's blood spatter his bandages.
Raising his sword high and waving it towards the war machines, Ahnutep's maryannu turned their chariots around with disciplined precision. As the chariots of the Numasi king readied for another charge, Ahnutep heard the loud boom as one of the war machines belched forth a ball of fire. Feeling a echo of an emotion course through him as the fiery projectile flew towards the Tomb King, Ahnutep remembered what that emotion was… terror.
The massive ball of daemonic fire struck against the chariot of the Tomb King. The Tomb King's withered body, along with his horses, the chariot, armor and everything along with the chariots of the closest of the maryannu were engulfed in fire. The fire quickly subsided and there was nothing but sand and ashes of the Tomb King and his chariots.
A loud high pitched sound filled the very sky and echoed around the battlefield; the echo was carried off upon the winds and could be heard from miles around. Small animals and insects buried themselves in the sands in terror; vultures flew off in fright from their feeding. Children from the nomadic tribes clutched mothers for protection as the women-folk dismissed it as a figment of their children's imaginations. The sound was a cry, a shriek of anguish which echoed for miles from the now widowed Queen.
'SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!' roared Thongvor Solingson as he decapitated one of the bone men.
Roaring praises to Kharneth, the warriors of his clan began singing the Saga of Argris Blood Reaper. An ancient chieftain and ancestor of Thongvor himself, Argris had fought many mighty battles against the nocturnal Blood Drinkers and their armies of walking corpses and had offered their stolen blood and skulls to the Blood God. Joining the song of his men, Thongvor smashed his shield against a skeleton and he hacked another one directly upon the skull.
It had been too long since he had a proper battle like this. Too many days of pillaging from the other war bands as if he were engaging in skirmishes back in Norsca or the disorganized defenses of the bone men had proven quickly boring to Thongvor. While indeed the bone men were still not a perfect enemy for they did not bleed or show pain, a number of their warriors proved to be worth the effort for Thongvor knew Kharneth enjoyed feats of martial skill as well.
Feeling a sudden tremor from the ground beneath him, Thongvor nearly lost his footing and he barely managed to block a spear strike from a skeleton. With a quick thrust of his axe, he obliterated the ribcage of a skeleton and was forced to deal with the fight at hand. Shattering another skeleton by slamming his axe into its right collarbone, Thongvor blocked a sword slash and countered by cutting off the skeletons right arm.
As he fought with berserk fury, Thongvor noticed a shadow looming over him. Briefly looking up, his mouth was left wide open as he saw a massive flying monstrosity of gold and obsidian. It somewhat resembled those beetle things he often saw on the murals of the Nehekharans. To his surprise he saw that there were three mummies riding atop of the giant beetle.
One of the mummies held a strange hollow staff like object in its hands and the Norscan chieftain realized what it was. A rifle, the mummy had a rifle, he then saw the mummy point the rifle at him and with a loud boom from the rifle, Thongvor's head exploded in a shower of blood and bone.
Firing the Cathayan Dragonstaff he had found many years ago in Lahmia, Fenuku watched with satisfaction as a barbarian's head exploded. Quickly pouring a new bit of fire-powder along with the lead ball, he jammed it in and placed a new wick upon the side. Setting the wick ablaze using the fire provided by one of the Ushabti guards the queen had given him, he took aim at another large savage.
With years of marksmanship practice from his time in life and undeath, he shot another mortal in the chest. The Ushabti which had been assigned to him fired at the savages with their great bows as they maintained their position upon the howdah which the Necrotect had added in the Titan's design. A shame really that in life, he had not been able to ride his Khmeric Titan like this, he could see why the Necropolis Knights fought upon them.
Its Reaping blades brought bloody ruin to the savages, the very air around it was charged with magic which weaken and demoralize the living. It spawned swarms of flesh eating scarabs which descended over the barbarians and stripped the flesh from their bones. It was the greatest work of art during Fenuku's life, and now in undeath it stirred the faint emotions of pride and enjoy in his withered husk.
Although he had personally designed the body of the Titan, its will was its own for within the metallic hide, lay the resting place of a great warrior. The Khmeric Titan was also the resting place of Rahtma-sur, a great general who had personally served Settra himself. He who had won countless victories against the greenskins, barbarians and Lizardmen, even the Queen and the Necrotect himself had served under the General during the War of a Thousand Nights. A general who had in life, been the elder brother of the Necrotect.
'Prepare the sacrifice!' ordered the Black King as the titanic scarab slaughtered his marauders by the dozens.
His cabal of magisters obeyed and began forming into a ring. Words of power escaped their lips as one amongst them, an aspiring champion walked into the center of the ring with bloody runes cut into his very flesh. The aspiring champion joined in the chant as well, his eyes rolled up and blood began to pour from his mouth as the dark ritual commenced.
Raw magic began to fill the aspiring champion, he raised his arms wide and he began to ascend into air upon Aethyric wings. With a loud roar of praise as the flesh within the aspiring champion began to bulge and distort as something tried to escape. An aura of energy began to emanate from the champion and the Black King could see the very thing which had possessed the champion.
'BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!' roared the aspiring champion in triumph before he swiftly descended upon the sands as quickly as a bolt fired from a crossbow. The Black King heard the splat as the champion's body struck the sands in an unnatural shower of gore which showered the sorcerers and the Chaos Lord himself. Rising from where the champion fell, a mighty Blood Thirster of Khorne arose in a parody of a birth.
The Greater Daemon raised its head high and roared in triumph towards the sun, the blood which had spattered upon the sands began to bubble and steam. From the pools of blood, several wiry red skinned daemons bearing swords which blazed with daemonic fire emerged. The Blood Thirster raised its mighty axe towards the Tomb Kings army; it directed its legion of Bloodletters and finished the war cry
'SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!' boomed The Greater Daemons voice. The Blood Thirster then leapt into the sky and began flapping its mighty wings; it saw the massive scarab and knew which would be the most worthy of foes.
Watching the battle from afar, the Black King stayed his own hand. The decision of whether he should remain and fight or head for the ships was still being weighed. It was just a matter of time, the Black King thought; this battle would determine whether he should take his campaign elsewhere or if he would return to the north in glory.
Hroag watched with an uneasy feeling as he saw the sandstorm appear near the shores. Standing sentry upon one of the Long Ships as ordered by the Black King, the Chosen had fought and killed in battles across the wastes and the Old World for more than a hundred years. There were few things which could unnerve him, and few which could make him feel as he did now, there was something unnatural about that sandstorm, and he just knew it.
As the storm drew closer, he could feel the grains of sand clattering against his armor. He tightly gripped the hilt of his bronze skull headed mace in anticipation for something to emerge. Glancing to his fellow Chosen around him, he saw that they too felt the same as he did. The sandstorm soon began to abate and the Chosen saw the glints of gold concealed by the storm.
'To Arms! To Arms!' roared the voice of Ralof Spineshatter.
From the shifting sands, emerged several of the Tomb Kings. Clad in their moldering bandages and armor of gold, the Tomb Kings slowly advanced towards the long ships. With practiced discipline, the Chosen formed a phalanx with their weapons and shields at the ready, they descended the sturdy whalebone gangplanks and Hroag could see that upon the other ships, warriors of chaos, ogres and a few minotaurs were forming up as well, each eager to meet the undead foe.
Descending upon the soft, sea soaked sands, Hroag removed his mace from the leather thong attached to his belt. The daemon magic within flared to life as fire began to burn upon the head of the mace. With a grin underneath his horned helmet, the Chosen was eager to do some good old fashioned maiming, killing and burning… especially with the burning.
'For Chaos!' Roared Hroag at the front and center of the phalanx as the Chosen drew closer, 'For the Dark Gods!' roared his brethren in unison.
The bestigors and the ogres were the first to crash into the skeletal army, they roared and laughed as their weapons severed spines and broke bones. As the Chosen picked up their pace, they too would crash into the skeletons as with the force of a battering ram. Swinging his mace blazing mace, Hroag shattered the skeletal warriors as easily as if he were massacring children.
The spears, swords and axes of the skeletons did little to harm the Chosen who were clad head to toe in ensorcelled armor. Their shields expertly blocked against the strikes of the skeletons and their weapons obliterated the armor of the dead which could have just been for decoration for all Hroag could care. As the Tomb Kings fell by the dozens against the elite of the Black King's army, Hroag heard the sudden wrenching of steel and a gurgle from one of his brethren.
He saw Ralof get knocked down and was trampled by the other Chosen, a spear sized arrow had impaled him upon the throat. He looked up to see several more of the spear sized arrows fall from the sky, several more of the chosen were struck down by the arrows, their shields which were raised in defense were becoming severely dented by the hail with more than a few unlucky Chosen being cut down.
Following the volley of giant arrows, Hroag saw in the distance, several large, animal skulled Tomb Kings wielding large bows. Each of the Tomb Kings unleashed a punishing volley of fire, from the sockets of their eyes, he could see the white glow of arcane energy. Feeling a tremor from the sands beneath, Hroag saw several massive creatures with skeletal upper bodies and serpentine lower bodies burst out in a shower of sand, each armed with large pole arms.
Their eyes glowed with a horrifying magic light, it was the last thing the Hroag saw as the Transmogrifying Gaze of the Sepulchral Stalker caused the flesh and bones of the Chosen transmute into sand. All around the now dead Chosen, several of his brethren were transmuted into statues of sand, their bodies stood there, still as statues until their comrades or the Tomb Kings struck them.
The statue which had once been Hroag, the veteran of more than a hundred years of bloody war within the Chaos Wastes was struck by one of the Sepulchral Stalkers. His armor clattered upon the ground as the sand which had once belonged to the Chosen, joined the sea of sand.
Leaping off the sand, Tahirah flew towards the back of one of the malformed Ogres. The brute which had been too busy pummeling her skeleton warriors did not notice the Tomb Queen until it was too late. With her swords impaling the beast where a living man's shoulder blades would be, several tooth filled maws opened upon the brute's flesh, each trying to take a bite out of the Tomb Queen as the Ogre howled its agony.
Pulling the blades down with supernatural strength, Tahirah sliced the ogre's back down to the sides of its bloated belly and showering the Tomb Queen with gore. Quickly pulling the blades out and kicking off of its back, Tahirah dodged the sweep of its massive club which would have shattered her skull. Swiftly charging back towards the Ogre as she landed, Tahirah closed in and stabbed her swords into the ogre's bare thighs before it could even regain its footing.
The Ogre roared in pain and attempted to deliver a knee kick to the Tomb Queen, its movement was slowed enough for Tahirah to weave around it for the enchantment upon her silver sword already begun to spread its entropic energy, meanwhile the magic upon her other blade should have begin to cause a great burning pain in the brute's other leg. As the beast turned about and attempted to crush the Tomb Queen with its club, Asim leapt towards the ogre and he drove his khopesh into its is mouth. The Khopesh burst from the back of the ogre's head and the Tomb Herald drove the blade up and split the beast's head in half from the mouth to the top.
Landing upon his bony feet Asim looked to Tahirah and gave a subservient nod to the Tomb Queen who spoke 'A fine strike, but I was about to slay that beast.'
'Apologies my queen' Asim replied 'but your presence is now needed upon the enemy ships'
Looking to the barbarian ship, Tahirah could see that there were still many living warriors aboard them. Already, her archers and Ushabti were raining arrows upon the decks of the ships. Already in the distance, she had seen her army's cavalry which had bypassed the barbarian army and were making their way to the enemy ship. With a nod to her Tomb Herald, Tahirah ordered for her warriors to board.
Finishing another spell, Viktor leaned heavily upon his staff as he watched the packs of Horrors and Flamers march down the hill towards the Tomb Kings. The undead army was even more massive than he had expected, countless skeletons, chariots, massive constructs and other things continued to assail them. It was like being caught in an Ork Waaagh! Or a Skaven assault where the creatures would use sheer numbers to try to overwhelm an opponent.
Reaching into one of his satchels, he pulled out his last elixir. Removing the stopper and imbibing its contents, he soon felt revitalized from its alchemical mixture. Looking across the field, he saw that while the undead had suffered heavy losses from the assault, they continued to send more and more of their troops across the sands.
Already, more than half of the Chaos Host's numbers of both Beastmen and Marauders were slain. The Daemons his coven had summoned were the only things which were keeping the battle in that delicate balance as they clashed with the animated constructs and skeletal warriors of the Tomb Kings. Upon the dunes, the Black King watched impassively as the army fought and bled, in the sky above, the Blood Thirster chased the Khmeric Titan like a hawk seeking a smaller bird.
The Chaos army was not the only ones with fire though for the Tomb Kings had brought their own. Even from his position, Viktor could hear the distant screams as the Nehekharan catapults fired volleys of flaming skulls. When he had investigated the nature of these skull earlier through his Witchsight, he was surprised to find that each one carried the final agonized moments of so many killed by the undead.
He had been surprise to see that many of the skulls belonged to the warriors who had been killed in this campaign. Using his Witchsight once more, he could see that the mood of the chaos army was on the edge. Many of the Marauders were just about ready to turn and flee, and so many of the beastmen were fleeing with many slaughtering their own in their attempt to flee from the dead.
As his coven of fellow magicians began another bout of spell casting, another aspiring champion stepped forwards. Words of power escaped the lips of the sorcerers and they began summoning a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch. The aspiring champion joined in their ritual, with a ceremonial knife; he began to cut sigils of the Great Changer upon his very flesh. They would drown the dead in a tide of blood and fire.
Rising high into the sky as he directed the Khmeric Titan to ascend, Fenuku aimed the Dragonstaff at the massive winged, red skinned and axe wielding daemon which assailed them. With a loud boom from the hollow weapon, he cursed as he had missed. The Ushabti continued to fire their great arrows at the daemon, but their weapons seemed to be but needle pricks to the giant.
The daemon continued to flap its wings as it soared through the sky, it roared in rage and anger as it gave chase. As much as Fenuku would love to have the Titan engage in an epic duel against the winged daemon, he would very much prefer to avoid having the Titan be as damaged as possible, especially when there were more efficient ways to kill such a foe. Directing the Titan towards the Numasi battle lines, the daemon swiftly followed them in its rage, and into the sights of the Colossae and the Hierotitans.
As the Necrotect expected, the Collossae and the Hierotitans turned their gaze upon the winged daemon. The Hierotitans raised their staves and shafts of bright burning light were directed upon the daemon which roared in anguish as its very essence was burned by the blessed magic within the giant staves. The Collosae aimed their bows carefully and opened fire upon the daemon, each shaft was hurled with the might of a bolt thrower.
The daemon's wings were impaled and torn by the shafts, it quickly began to struggle to fly but too many holes had been torn in its leathery wings. The daemon fell from the sky as Ptra's holy light burned the abomination; it crashed into the battlefield where barbarians and the armies of the dead still fought. As the daemon crashed into the ground, the Necrotect expected for there to be a great impact but instead, the daemon's body dissolved into a shower of blood.
Ordering the Khmeric Titan to descend, he was eager to allow the sands to run red with the blood of the barbarians.
With a swift swipe of her khopesh which was blessed by the priest's of Ptra, Tahirah decapitated a horned helmeted barbarian clad in heavy armor; the body fell to the wooden deck as blood gushed out like a fountain. Another barbarian swung a blazing sword towards the Tomb Queen and the weapon was intercepted by the sword of Asim who slapped the burning weapon upwards. The Tomb Queen swiftly took advantage and with a deft thrust of her silver sword, the blade pierced the chain links beneath the barbarian's right armpit.
The barbarian roared in pain as the deathly powers of Usirian began to spread. With a bash from Asim's shield, the barbarian was knocked back and the Tomb Herald swiftly followed with a thrust of his sword which pierced the chest plate of the barbarian. As the armored barbarian fell, the Tomb Queen surveyed the deck of the ship. Her Tomb Guard had suffered heavy losses but the barbarian ship was now cleared of any warriors, she could see that upon the other ships, her Sepulchral Stalkers, Ushabti and Skeletal warriors still did battle against the barbarians as Onuris used his magic to assist them.
With a quick series of commands, the Tomb Queen ordered her Tomb Guard to disembark and head to the next ship. Already, a squadron of skeletal slaves equipped with lumber axes would begin sabotaging the riggings and several of the important pieces needed for it to sail. They did not need to destroy or burn down the ships for now; they just needed to make sure none were sailable for the barbarians.
Around one ship, she saw Kemsyt leading his horse archers as well as the living nomads around the ships. Their arrows continued to rain down upon the ship and the barbarians who still fought upon it. With skeleton warriors and Ushabti already forming up and preparing to board, the Tomb Queen was confident that she would not be needed there.
Descending upon the sands once more, the Tomb Queen directed her honor guard towards one particular ship which she could feel was heavy with stolen treasure; among the treasure, there was a potent artifact which radiated with power. Curiously, she saw no barbarians guarding it and she could not sense the presence of any of her troops upon it. Regardless, they needed to sabotage that ship as well.
Watching the mighty display of magic in the sky, the Black King saw The Lord of Change his sorcerers had summoned do battle against the Tomb King's sorcerous statues. He had honestly been surprised at how quickly they slew the Blood Thirster, with a shrug he resolved that he would learn from this battle. The Greater Daemon of Tzeentch though proved far more effective for it countered the magic of the Tomb Kings with its own.
He saw the Greater Daemon generate a shield of shimmering magic to absorb the rays of light from the statues before countering with a volley of lightning bolts which obliterated one of the statues. As the sorcerous display of power raged across the sky, upon the ground, the daemons of Tzeentch and Khorne battled alongside his remaining marauders and beastmen. He watched as several of the Tomb Kings own monstrous units clash against his own.
In quiet amusement, he watched Slaughterbrutes battles against winged Tomb King Creatures of obsidian and gold with great scything blades for arms. He watched Bloodletters riding upon Juggernauts of Khorne engage in deadly duels against skeletal knights riding upon serpentine mounts. He watched as furies and harpies did battle with massive undead vultures. He watched as a group of giant scorpions burst from the sands to assail a pack of Mutaliths and Chaos Spawn.
It was glorious for the Black King to see. His warrior heart, the part which paid great obeisance to Khorne watched in satisfaction at the great battle being fought, a titanic battle between mighty armies. As much as he wished to participate, he had more important plans to set in motion, ones which he could not risk jeopardizing no matter what.
'You traitorous bastard!' roared a Norscan before his head was severed from his neck by a large crab claw. The dead man's head sprayed blood in pleasing patterns to Randolph Kauffman. Looking about on the deck of the Longship, he was pleased that his harem of whom had now shown their true selves were clearing the deck of the Black King's troops.
It was all so deliciously pleasing thought the slaaneshi cultist. He had come to this dreary and hot land in search for some artifact called the Eye of Sakhmet his master wished to acquire. Instead of having to dig it up himself in some filthy, trap-filled tomb, he just had those silly northmen to get it for him.
Oh Slaanesh must really be favoring him he thought. His "eunuchs" gracefully walked upon the decks as they savored the blood and souls of the northmen, their lithe bodies were transformed by the daemonettes which had been bound inside their flesh back in Altdorf. He would be sure to "reward" his pets when they came back in triumph.
'Search the cargo hold for the Eye and prepare to cast off!' commanded the cultist and his possessed harem obeyed.
'Master' spoke one of his harem in a lovely song-liked voice and it tittered 'The bonemen wish to play'
Looking over the side of the long ship, he saw several of the undead marching towards the ship. How amusing he thought as he reached for a pouch on the side of his belt. Grabbing the pouch, he quickly opened it to reveal a fine bit of pink colored warp dust which had been especially consecrated by the followers of the Dark Prince. Inhaling the warp dust and feeling the fine grains enter his nostrils; his eyes dilated as he felt the rush of arcane energy build up inside him.
Grinning in triumph, he felt the magical high of the warp dust as his vision became a wondrous kaleidoscope of colors. Whispering words of power, he felt the orgiastic agony as a long, hard, rope like tendril sprouted out from his right wrist and in his other hand, a nimbus of pinkish mist began to appear. Raising his left hand up with his palm in front of his lips, he blew the mist which quickly began to expand and spread across the decks.
From the mist, several lithe shapes began to materialized and dance. From the mist came several handmaidens of the Dark Prince, each with fine pale skin and wielding daggers, swords, whips and claws. The Daemonettes tittered and cavorted and the cultist ordered them to attack. Unleashing a loud shriek of ecstasy, the daemons bounded and raced towards the dead.
Watching in satisfaction as the warriors of the Undying Sovereigns began cutting down the barbarians aboard the ship, Haydar called to his men and ordered for them to regroup. Already, many of the ships were being boarded with heavy fighting still taking place. Already running low on arrows, the warriors of the bani-al-Hashim would either need to conserve their ammunition or begin using their swords.
In the distance around one of the ships, the nomad saw a strange pinkish mist begin to cover one of the ships. There was something strange and unnatural about it which made Haydar whisper a prayer of protection to Khsar. The skeleton horse archers quickly rode off towards the ship with the mist and Haydar ordered his men to advance.
As their horses galloped across the shore, Haydar briefly wondered what lay across the sea. He had only been as far as to Lashiek and Copher in the past but had never seen the lands of the fair skinned men of the north. Closing in on the ship with the mist dissipating, Haydar caught sight of strange, lithe, pale skinned creatures which danced and twirled as they fought against the Undying Sovreigns.
Catching a strange whiff of something like perfume in the air, Haydar suddenly felt unusually calm and relaxed. Descending from his horse, he slowly began walking towards the ship in a dream-like trance. At a closer look, he saw that the pale things were beautiful maidens whose dance was even greater than those of any of the women in the pleasure houses of Araby. As he took a step forward, he heard a loud scream of pain and his heart was wrenched as he was filled with grief and rage.
One of the pale women were cut down by Undying Sovereigns. Pulling out his sword in anger, he desired nothing more than to avenge the fallen woman. He heard the scrapings of swords leaving their sheaths as his brothers felt the same. With a nod to his comrades, they knew what had to be done.
Roaring a loud ululating war cry, the nomads charged on foot towards the back of the Undying Sovereigns.
Cutting down another one of the daemon-things which wore the face of her husband, the Tomb Queen's wrath was intensified by the masquerade of these deceivers. Thrusting her silver sword towards another daemon, the pale skinned creature which quickly grasped the sword in its scorpion claw. The daemon shrieked in pain as it touched it, the Tomb Queen was not sure if it was the enchantment upon the blade or the material of it.
Regardless, Tahirah swung her khopesh at it the daemon and the blade sank into its exposed belly. The daemon-thing shrieked in pain before it dissolved into a mist of pink gas. The Tomb Queen hardly had time to ponder for she saw several more of the deamon-things beginning to push large sticks upon the shore. Already, the plank of wood which would have been used for boarding the ship was pulled up.
'Do not let them escape!' roared the Tomb Queen and she began running towards the ship but was intercepted by one of the daemon-things.
Blocking a knife strike from a deamon-thing, the creature spun and thrust a clawed foot towards Tahirah with amazing speed. The foot connected upon the Tomb Queen's breastplate and she was knocked back from the impact, the daemon thing quickly spun upwards in a strange, dance-like movement. Its clawed feet kicked the air and its scorpion claw was about to strike the Tomb Queen before the khopesh of Asim intercepted it and severed the claw.
The daemon thing shrieked in pain and as its it looked towards its missing appendage and one of her Tomb Guards took advantage and swiftly beheaded the daemon. As the last of the daemon-things were cut down, Tahirah heard a ululating cry from behind, she saw the nomads were coming towards them with swords raised. As they took a few more step close to the Tomb Queen and her Tomb Guard, they suddenly stopped, almost in reach of the khopeshes of the dead. The nomads began looking around as if in a daze.
Shaking her head in disgust, it seemed that the mortals were bewitched by some spell from the daemons and were likely planning on attacking her. Although there were times the Tomb Queen tried to remember what it was like to be amongst the living again, she was glad that in times like this, she was not burdened by the weaknesses or distractions of the flesh. Ignoring the nomads, she saw Kemsyt and his horse archers ride closer to them.
'Have word sent to the fleets of Zandri!' she commanded 'one of the barbarian ships have escaped.'
With a bow, Kemsyt was about to ride off before the Liche Priest Onuris stepped forward and spoke with a courtly bow 'That would be unnecessary my queen'.
She noted that there were two armed guards in the colors of Numas wielding large swords beside Onuris. They stood protectively over another Liche priest, a Keeper she realized who also wore garments bearing his allegiance to Numas. With a nod from the Tomb Queen, she was confident that Onuris and the Keeper knew what they were doing.
The two began whispering words of power and they began to shine with holy light, a fountain of skulls burst forth from the sands in front of the Keeper. The skulls quickly piled into a mound where an ornate casket of gold and stone appeared, the lid of the casket swiftly opened in a rays of bright shining light and dozens of flaming skulls emerged and wailed as they flew towards the ship. With a grin appearing upon her withered lips, the Tomb Queen was pleased by what damage the Casket of Souls would cause.
From the blue sky itself, a vortex of greenish energy appeared. From the vortex, several magic skulls began to descend upon the ship as Onuris finished his own spell. The damage was catastrophic as the magic unleashed by the Casket of Souls and the Skullstorm of Sakhment descended upon the ship and its inhabitants. Soon the ship began to break apart and its pieces began to sink into the Great Ocean. The souls of those aboard the ship were consumed by the raging spirits, the Tomb Queen noted that there were some knew skull returning to the Casket.
With satisfaction, the Tomb Queen knew that by now her minions would have either overwhelmed the enemy ships or would be almost finished in doing so. Ordering Onuris and Asim to take command of her infantry to sabotage the rest of the ships, the Tomb Queen watched as her cavalry and chariots arrived. The first phase of her side of the battle was over and it was now time to move on to the next.
As the regiments of skeleton horsemen, cavalry archer, chariots and knights raised their weapons in salute to the Tomb Queen, she saw as one of the Necroserpents which was purposefully riderless, lowered its head to the sands. The Tomb Queen was handed a spare riding hook by the captain of her Necropolis Knights, sheathing her silver sword and taking the hook, she mounted the Necroserpent which raised its head high.
Pointing her sword towards where the main enemy force was camped, the Tomb Queen ordered her army to charge. The hooves of their steeds thundered across the sands as it was time to cut off the head of this army.
Watching as the battle was still in the balance, the Black King's army of marauders and beastmen were now all gone with only the Daemons remaining in the fight. With a look of contempt, he knew it was over for the dead had overwhelmed his army, he realized that he had underestimated the Tomb Kings and their capabilities. Having already decided that he should retire from the battlefield and this campaign, the Black King turned his gaze towards his ships.
His eyes widened in shock as he saw one ship actually cast off, the ship was then assailed by a barrage of magical assaults and it soon sank into the waters. Quickly calling for his honor guard to mount up, several Chaos Knights began to climb upon the back of their hellish steeds. Some rode upon the backs of their horses which were warped by the power of Chaos, other climbed upon the platforms of chariots which were pulled by the same horses or were pulled by the mighty gore beasts.
Raising his sword high, the Black King ordered his honor guard to make for the shores. If the ships could not be saved, then their mission here and for the future would be ruined! This he could not allow, he would not let the dead to ruin his quest for vengeance, and he would not be denied his destiny to aid in bringing the world to its final ruin.
Watching as the Chaos Lord and his honor guard retreated from the field, Viktor Blause knew that it was over. He had somewhat expected for this to happen, it often happened with those who thought they could walk the fine line of balance amongst the four gods. With a snort of disdain, the Marienburg sorcerer would have to continue his original purpose for coming to the Land of the Dead.
Reaching into one of his satchels which hung on the side of his hip, he removed a scroll which he needed to complete his own quest. With the scroll in hand, he looked to see the undead cavalry which were advancing upon them. All he needed now was the queen, the Tomb Queen whose capture would mean the success of his quest.
Roaring a war cry in the tongue of the Norse, the Black King drove his daemonic sword into the neck of skeletal horse and the ribcage of its rider. He heard the faint scream as the souls of both were drawn into the sword which would consume them for power. He felt a spear strike and shatter against his chaos forged armor, with contemptuous ease he beheaded his assailant in a single swipe.
All around him, his Chaos Knights and Chariots crashed into the ranks of the undead cavalry with bones and armor splintering in their wake. While the weapons and armor of the Chaos warriors proved superior, the dead had great numbers on their side. The Tomb Kings also had many cavalry archers which kept firing volleys of arrows at his honor guard, more than a few had found their marks within the joints between armor or the visors of their helmets. Ordering his warrior to break the enemy line and press on towards the coast, his Knights obeyed as they galloped across the sands.
Having broken the spell of the daemons, the nomads under Haydar's command had been shamed by their intent upon striking against the Undying Sovereigns. As penance, the nomads had remounted their horses and followed the cavalry charge of the Tomb Queen against the barbarian army. In silence they rode as they no longer cared for the reward of wealth for through their actions, they had shamed not only themselves but also their tribe.
As the elite of the barbarian army drew closer, Haydar could see the massive armored men. Clad in black armor with horned helmets, their weapons and gear were etched in runes and sigils which were painful to look upon. Haydar watched as many of the skeletal cavalry of the Undying Sovereigns were destroyed by the barbarians, he was glad that he had his bow for he would not desire to face them sword to sword.
Ordering his men to fire at will, Haydar raised his bow and removed one of his arrows. Pointing his bow at the nearest of the barbarians with the arrow slowly knocking back, he whispered a prayer to Khsar for his aim to be true. With a deep inhale of breath under the black cloth which covered his mouth, Haydar released an arrow at the same time his brothers did.
The volley of arrows did little to harm the armored warriors, but one fell with a lucky shot to the eye. Already reaching for another arrow, Haydar heard the whistles of several more arrows fly over his shoulders. He glanced back to see several skeletal horse archers rounding about as they continued their ceaseless volleys of arrows.
Among the barbarians, Haydar noted that one of them had armor which seemed more decorated and ornate compared to his comrades. Guessing that this was the leader of the barbarian army, the nomad took aim at the enemy leader. If he were to slay the leader or at the least wound him enough for the Undying Sovereigns to slay him, then his honor as well as the honor of the bani-al-Hashim would be restored.
Aiming at the enemy leader, he fired an arrow which flew straight and true into his mount's eye. The hellish steed let out a loud, almost human-like shriek of pain but still it galloped on. Ordering his men to focus fire, they fired their shots at the horse and soon even the undead horse archers did the same. Eventually the barbarian leader's horse fell with a few sticking out from his own armor.
The barbarian riders saw their master fall and they quickly formed a defensive circle around him. Now trapped between the claws of the scorpion, the barbarians were surrounded and had nowhere left to run.
Bursting out of the sands atop the Necroserpent, the Tomb Queen's mount closed its jaws around the body of an enemy horseman. The beast screamed in agony as the deadly venom of the construct began to fill its body, the Tomb Queen herself had driven her khopesh into the neck of the armored barbarian. All around Tahirah, her army of cavalry troops had surrounded the enemy leader and his honor guard.
From the sands came several Sepulchral Stalkers which cast their deadly gazes and plunged their weapons upon the servants of Isfet. Many Tomb Scorpions arose from the sands as well as they brought their deadly claws and stingers to bear upon the barbarians. Masses of Tomb Swarms quickly emerged from the sands as well to crawl and devour the flesh of the foe.
Victory was hers once more, the only thing which would make it complete was to take the head of the enemy leader. Quickly spotting the warrior whose armor was more ornate than those of his comrades, she saw him push off the weight of his horse and he rose with a flaming sword in his right hand. The warrior then grasped something around his neck with the other hand and the Tomb Queen began to see something glow brightly.
Having had centuries of experience with facing against enemy sorcerers, the Tomb Queen instinctively knew that he was trying to escape. Leaping off of her mount's head, Tahirah's bony feet landed upon the sands, she quickly ran towards the enemy leader. Calling upon the enchantments of Ptra and Geheb which had been infused into her armor, the Tomb Queen's speed and strength was magnified as she pulled out her silver sword.
The enemy leader noticed her presence he glared balefully at her. She could hear him continued to whisper some sort of spell as his left hand still held whatever it was, likely an amulet around his neck. The enemy leader swiftly brought up his blazing sword in time to parry Tahirah's khopesh, her silver sword on the other hand had cut through the barbarian's armor and impaled his left hip.
The barbarian grunted in pain and the Tomb Queen saw his eyes widen in horror. A shimmering azure light began to fill barbarian leader as he began to babble some sort of spell again, the light began to glow around Tahirah as well and she tried to pull her sword out but it was stuck inside him. In a blink of an eye, the Tomb Queen and the Chaos Lord disappeared in a flash of light.
Grinning with satisfaction and relief that his quest was complete, Viktor Blause could not quite believe that he had pulled it off. While he was not expecting to catch the Chaos Lord along with the Tomb Queen, he supposed he could use the opportunity to demand greater compensation from the Black King, considering his current contract was not yet fulfilled.
With a triumphant look upon his face, he whispered words of power and a disc of azure light appeared before him, he took one last look upon the Lands of the Dead and he was glad to be rid of this cursed place.
All across the battlefield, the Chaos Daemons were soon overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the Tomb Kings. No mercy was given as the last of the daemons were banished and the barbarians slain. The great vulture daemon which had been summoned by the Chaos army had eventually been banished by the combined efforts of the Liche Priests and the remaining Hierotitans.
As the dead raised their weapons in victory, Prince Sefu led his army towards the shore. With the weight of numbers added by the Numasi prince's own forces, the last of the Chaos army was slain, already the Liche Priests were casting their spells to enslave the souls of the enemy. It pleased the prince when he could deny the daemon gods the souls of their minions.
Curiously, he noted the absence of the Tomb Queen. He had inquired about what had happened but her retainers were simply at a loss for words. According to the Liche Priest Onuris, he had claimed that she had simply disappeared in the battle and that he could not feel her presence. The Tomb Herald remained in a morose silence and the warriors of the Tomb Queen seemed lost as well.
How interesting thought Prince Sefu as he looked upon the now leaderless army of the Tomb Queen, his mind began calculating about how he could use this to his advantage when he reported back to Lord Tutankhanut. Among the army, he had also seen the nomad warriors he had sent ahead. Having ordered the nomads to rejoin his force, Prince Sefu's mind was now occupied by the possibilities he would have for taking the sole credit for not only destroying the Chaos army, but returning many of the treasures of Nehekhara.
With a smile, Prince Sefu began preparing his forces for the march back to Numas.
Feeling a sense of displacement and vertigo which was mixed with the excruciating pain as the elf blade was still stuck in his gut. The Black King's vision was cleared as he soon found himself in a stone room of shifting color which held many strange baubles and devices here and there. It looked like he was in a wizard's laboratory.
The Black King looked around and he tried to move, he found that he could not for he was tightly chained to a wall, he noticed his bindings were inscribed with chaotic runes. To his surprise, he saw the Tomb Queen was not far away to his right; her desiccated body was also wrapped in chains which the mummy struggled against. Ahead of him, he saw the Marienburg sorcerer speaking to the Lord of Change which had been summoned during the battle; the Greater Daemon had changed its size to be similar to that of a man.
'Ah herr Valerius, so good that you have come to' The sorcerer spoke
'What is the meaning of this, Sorcerer!?' demanded the Black King as he struggled against his bonds.
'You really were not supposed to be here mein herr, just her' the sorcerer said as he pointed to the Tomb Queen next to him
'Then release me and we part ways' said the Chaos Lord coldly
'Unfortunately mein herr, it seems The Great Changer has other plans for you' the sorcerer said as he moved closer to the Black King. 'Besides' he added with a threatening tone 'you have yet to pay me for my services and you did leave me behind with the rest of the army'
He then grabbed the sword which was still stuck and he yanked it out while eliciting a roar of pain from the Chaos Lord. Looking to the Lord of Change who gave a devilish smile to the Chaos Lord the daemon began whispering words of power.
'Our friend here has decided to take recompense, mein herr' the sorcerer said 'I think it will be fitting'
This cannot be! The Black King thought, he had a destiny! A promise that he would see Bretonnia burn! He saw the daemon began to dissipate into an ethereal mist which began to drift towards him. In a horrid moment, the Black King realized that he was nothing more than a puppet, a means to an end in the endless schemes of Tzeentch.
As the mist entered the Black King's body through his wound, he began to struggle and fight for control of his own will. The daemon proved too strong and the will of the Black King was consumed by the daemon. As the chains shattered around the Black King's body, the now daemon possessed man rose up, the wound swiftly closed and he began to test out his new body.
'So distasteful to have to wear flesh' the daemon spoke in the Black King's voice
'All in our master's plans' Viktor said with a bow to the Greater Daemon
'Indeed' the daemon spoke 'have the arrangements been made in the north?'
'Of course Great One, your kingdom awaits the return of its liege' the sorcerer said with a bow.
The daemon possessed man grinned and walked towards the edge of the room where a shimmering disc of azure light appeared. Stepping into the disc of light, the Black King would take his place in bringing the world to its final ruin.
The sorcerer then looked to the Tomb Queen who still struggled with her bonds.
'It is useless you know' he said in the tongue of Ancient Nehekhara for he had spent many decades studying that language, it helped that he had some assistance from his daemonic masters. The Tomb Queen looked to him; her face was still covered by the ivory mask.
'What is it you seek, mortal?' the Tomb Queen asked suspiciously in a dry whispery tone as she still struggled
'We have mutual acquaintances who wish to meet you, mein frau' the sorcerer said as he went to a table of polished stone with leather scroll case upon it. Opening the case, the sorcerer removed the scroll and he heard the Tomb Queen speak
'What possible acquaintances could we share?' she asked
'Your name is quite cursed by the Sons of Hashut you know, they have many grudges against you' the sorcerer said as he opened the scroll.
A moment of silence passed as the Tomb Queen considered his words, he then heard her whisper 'The Infernal Kings…'
'It is good you know then' the sorcerer said 'for the Dawi Zharr are paying me in both gold and knowledge to bring you to them alive'
'Then you have been long late in your task' the Tomb Queen hissed with hostility 'I have not been amongst the living for eons!'
'You'd think so with your archaic magic and primitive beliefs, let me show you a demonstration of what the True Gods are capable of!' the sorcerer said proudly.
Snapping his finger, a group of eight dark robed figures emerged from the portal the daemon had used to leave. Pulling back their hoods, each of the eight were blanked eyed women with shaven heads and the rune of Tzeentch branded upon their foreheads. Each were slaves taken from across the Old World, each having borne some form of favor from the false gods
Viktor Blause then used his magic to dominate the wills of the slaves, each began to circle the Tomb Queen to form the eight pointed star. Each began whispering words of power as their eyes rolled up and filled the room with an unnatural chill. The slaves began glowing with a nimbus of arcane light; soon the Tomb Queen herself began to glow as well.
The chains around the Tomb Queen disintegrated and she began to float helplessly in the air as if she were marionette held by its strings. Each of the eight women then removed a curved ceremonial dagger from the sleeves of their robes, as their chanting reached a crescendo, each own slit their own throats. As the blood began to gush from their necks, their flesh began to melt like wax from a candle.
Viktor Blause continued the spell on his own now. The blood from the slaves and flesh from their bodies began to flow out of their garments and the stones, each one rising up to the Tomb Queen herself. The Tomb Queen was quickly encased in a bubble of blood which was soon wrapped with a cocoon of flesh; it bulged and moved as she tried to escape.
With a grin, the sorcerer knew that all he needed now was to make the delivery.