Luthor left the Drakwald forest the way Senkrad had told him, he was now
climbing a muddy dirt track leading to the Worlds Edge Mountains. Senkrad
had used healing herbs on Luthor's arm, it was still broken but he could
feel no pain in it and he could use it to fight with.
It was night and the moons were both full. There was also a cold wind that would've made a normal man shiver but not Luthor; he was the chosen of Slaanesh after all.
He had his flail clipped to his belt along with his two curved knives. His purple hood was covering his entire scar-filled face.
Luthor put his pack down and set up camp a short distance off the trail. He looked up into the mountains and saw some light flickering out of a cave in the mountainside. That's strange, no travellers or bandits ever take this road, thought Luthor. He'd have to investigate.
The mud swamped over his leather boots. Inside the cave was a very crude fire set up in the middle. Sat next to the fire were two mutated trolls. They were twice as big as a man and probably stronger than a frenzied black orc. One had huge tusks jutting out of his mouth, shoulders and arms and was a strange dark blue colour. The first troll was brandishing a axe, well it was more of a club than an axe since it was basically a wooden pole that had a piece of sharpened metal stuck on the end. The second troll had, what Luthor could only presume were fins coming out of its head and was wielding a long blade. This blade was of no normal origin, along the edge of it were small mouths, biting the air hoping to get a mouth full of flesh. Luthor had to have this sword, imagine the terror it would cause to his foes. Then something struck Luthor, the second troll had the mark of Slaanesh cut into its chest.
How could he get this blade, he couldn't kill fellow Slaaneshi worshippers, but on the other hand... That sword, he must possess it.
Luthor entered the cave. "You! Give me that sword!" Demanded Luthor. The first troll rose and roared, it stumbled over to Luthor very slowly. Luthor swung his flail and it connected with the troll's shoulder. Black blood covered Luthor from head to toe. The troll fell backwards and tripped over a rock, this left the troll exposed and on its knees. Luthor drew his knives and thrust them both into the troll's tender neck.
The second troll got up and grinned menacingly as the mouths on the sword bit the air furiously. Luthor stood brandishing his two blades and jumped at the troll head on. One of his knives missed but the other sunk deep into the troll's chest, precisely where the mark of Slaanesh was located.
To Luthors surprise the troll didn't back down, flinch or fall. Instead it drew its large festering fist back and swung at Luthor with one huge backhanded blow. Luthor reeled from the blow and was knocked to the ground. He dropped his knives and his hood fell off as he landed on the cold, grey cave floor.
Instead of striking him like Luthor thought would happen, the troll opened his mouth and spoke some sort of old ruinous language. Luthor understood it; he was the chosen of Slaanesh after all.
"You are worthy, brethren. I will not kill you because you also worship Lorgaah. Take the sword, chosen," said the troll in bad Reikspiel. Luthor was surprised, the troll had used Slaanesh's oldest name.
"I Thank you, brother," said Luthor as he grasped the sword, being careful not to touch the blade.
"The sword is called Arkhaar, it was found by Strykaar the great, but it was lost while he fled. I found it and have been waiting for a worthy bearer," said the troll as his wound sealed up. Trolls are famous for their regenerative capabilities. The Skaven of Clan Moulder are well known for using troll skin as armour since it is so hard and stubbornly broken. Luthor bowed low to the troll and left the cave only to find someone waiting for him at his camp...
It was night and the moons were both full. There was also a cold wind that would've made a normal man shiver but not Luthor; he was the chosen of Slaanesh after all.
He had his flail clipped to his belt along with his two curved knives. His purple hood was covering his entire scar-filled face.
Luthor put his pack down and set up camp a short distance off the trail. He looked up into the mountains and saw some light flickering out of a cave in the mountainside. That's strange, no travellers or bandits ever take this road, thought Luthor. He'd have to investigate.
The mud swamped over his leather boots. Inside the cave was a very crude fire set up in the middle. Sat next to the fire were two mutated trolls. They were twice as big as a man and probably stronger than a frenzied black orc. One had huge tusks jutting out of his mouth, shoulders and arms and was a strange dark blue colour. The first troll was brandishing a axe, well it was more of a club than an axe since it was basically a wooden pole that had a piece of sharpened metal stuck on the end. The second troll had, what Luthor could only presume were fins coming out of its head and was wielding a long blade. This blade was of no normal origin, along the edge of it were small mouths, biting the air hoping to get a mouth full of flesh. Luthor had to have this sword, imagine the terror it would cause to his foes. Then something struck Luthor, the second troll had the mark of Slaanesh cut into its chest.
How could he get this blade, he couldn't kill fellow Slaaneshi worshippers, but on the other hand... That sword, he must possess it.
Luthor entered the cave. "You! Give me that sword!" Demanded Luthor. The first troll rose and roared, it stumbled over to Luthor very slowly. Luthor swung his flail and it connected with the troll's shoulder. Black blood covered Luthor from head to toe. The troll fell backwards and tripped over a rock, this left the troll exposed and on its knees. Luthor drew his knives and thrust them both into the troll's tender neck.
The second troll got up and grinned menacingly as the mouths on the sword bit the air furiously. Luthor stood brandishing his two blades and jumped at the troll head on. One of his knives missed but the other sunk deep into the troll's chest, precisely where the mark of Slaanesh was located.
To Luthors surprise the troll didn't back down, flinch or fall. Instead it drew its large festering fist back and swung at Luthor with one huge backhanded blow. Luthor reeled from the blow and was knocked to the ground. He dropped his knives and his hood fell off as he landed on the cold, grey cave floor.
Instead of striking him like Luthor thought would happen, the troll opened his mouth and spoke some sort of old ruinous language. Luthor understood it; he was the chosen of Slaanesh after all.
"You are worthy, brethren. I will not kill you because you also worship Lorgaah. Take the sword, chosen," said the troll in bad Reikspiel. Luthor was surprised, the troll had used Slaanesh's oldest name.
"I Thank you, brother," said Luthor as he grasped the sword, being careful not to touch the blade.
"The sword is called Arkhaar, it was found by Strykaar the great, but it was lost while he fled. I found it and have been waiting for a worthy bearer," said the troll as his wound sealed up. Trolls are famous for their regenerative capabilities. The Skaven of Clan Moulder are well known for using troll skin as armour since it is so hard and stubbornly broken. Luthor bowed low to the troll and left the cave only to find someone waiting for him at his camp...