Rolf had been following the group for nearly two days now. He had stayed behind the tree line, well hidden in the undergrowth. He knew this land like the back of his hand. Rolf thought the man with all of the beautiful weapons had spotted him once, but he must not have. Any moment now they would arrive at the lair of Thra'ak, king of the swamp.
The hunter could barely contain his excitement at the thought of looting the trinkets of these adventurers. He waited a long time for ones such as this to enter his home. It was almost as if the chaos gods had granted him a gift for all his hard work. They would stand no match against the terrible troll. Rolf readied his longbow. If any of the group decided to flee from the monster, they would not get very far.
Gottfried Gustav became lost in his own thoughts. The swamp was beginning to take a toll on his group. He had done what he could to keep their morale up, but he began to fear that they all might not make it out alive. They were running low on rations and fresh water. The mosquitoes were relentless. All of the torches were burned out the night before in an attempt to repel the swarm of insects.
Thoughts of his days as a peasant on his parents' farm in Wissenland began to cloud Gottfried's mind. He had come such a long way since then. After the greenskins had butchered his family, he had sworn an oath to Sigmar. From that day forth he vowed to protect the empire from the forces of chaos. Gottfried was not blessed with the skill set of a great warrior, so he had decided to become a politician. He moved to Altdorf and began working his way into the courts of the noble born. All he found there was corruption- it sickened him. The day eventually came when the politician realized there was nothing he could do with his words and values that could help his people. Chaos had infested even the government.
Then the most unlikely group of outcasts had fallen into his lap. His heart ached for each of his three companions. Sigmar had spoken to the politician one night and finally made clear to him his duty in life. He knew he had to protect these three adventurers, and lead them against evil. Every day Gottfried fought an inner struggle. The challenge of leading this team was more difficult than anything he had gone through before. He knew if he could keep the four of them united he could accomplish great things in the name of his god. Gottfried had taken up sword and shield. Using his skills from the courts of Altdorf, he pledged to lead his team; to protect the glorious empire.
Gottfried's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a disgusting smell. Not the smell of the swamp, to which he had grown used to since they had at entered this dreaded land. It was something else. The aroma of vomit, mixed with rotting flesh.
"What in world is this foul stench?" asked Felix, "Look! There is a cave up ahead."
As if on cue, an ear piercing roar carried out from the rocky cavern. Out from the shadows stepped a hideous creature. Standing nearly three men tall, the beast looked as if it was born from the swamp itself. Its skin was covered in a coating of sediment and slime. Vegetation and fish carcasses were among the detritus hanging from its body. It carried an uprooted tree with the rotting skull of an alligator wedged through the top. Countless goblin heads hung were strung to its shoulders and waist in varying states of decay. A crown of bones sat atop its enormous head.
"I King Thra'ak!" roared the gigantic greenskin, "You tasty man-flesh!"
Dimzad's eyes widened. He could not contain the rage boiling inside of him. The foe he waited so long to meet in combat stood before him. Before the companions could plan their next action, the dwarf was already in the stream splashing towards the troll. His axe was held high, and his battle cries were almost louder than the roar of the monster.
As Dimzad charged at his prize, Felix let fly a bolt from his crossbow. The projectile stuck into the belly of Thra'ak. The troll simply laughed and pulled it out as it readied its horrific club. The team watched as the wound closed before their very eyes.
Gottfried knew what he must do, but could not seem to move his body. His veins felt as if they were freezing up. The King of Trolls had unearthed a primal fear within him. From behind him, the politician could hear the arcane chanting of Avandril. The subtle warmth of the wind of fire began to slowly cascade through the marshes as the elf summoned arcane energy.
Dimzad closed the gap between himself and the troll. Before he could swing his axe the weight of the giant club smashed in to his rib cage. He could feel his bones crunch as the fearsome alligator skull smashed through his armor. Ignoring the pain he shouted an oath to the warrior god Grimnir, and drove his great axe into his opponent's leg.
Seeing his companion absorb the ferocious blow, Gottfried shook off the fear consuming him. The politician saw Felix reloading as he leapt in to the stream. He said a prayer as he trudged through the water to aid the dwarf.
Felix suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back. He reached behind and touched what felt like the shaft of an arrow. His chainmail had prevented any serious damage from being done. Breaking it off above the wound, he spun around and began scanning his surroundings. He spotted a body high above in a tree as it leaned outwards to fire another arrow. Felix dove in the water and the arrow pierced into the wood of the raft. He glided underneath the surface of the stream and swam towards the shoreline. Once the mercenary felt like he was close to land he emerged from the water. Looking towards the tree he saw the tip of another arrow pointing directly towards him. Before he could act, his enemy let loose a shot. At this close of range, the arrow pierced Felix's armor, driving deep into his thigh. The pain was excruciating. Felix did his best to ignore the burning in his leg. He aimed his crossbow at the archer and fired. He could not tell whether or not he made contact, for it was difficult to see through the foliage. After a few seconds, the mercenary saw a figure fall from the treetop. He heard a soft thud as the body slammed into the mud below.
Thra'ak raised his gigantic club above his head. Dimzad struggled to free his great axe from the fetid meat of the troll's leg. As the wound began to heal shut, the dwarf was able to wrestle his mighty weapon free. As soon as it came out, the alligator skull swung down again on the warrior. Dimzad instinctively stepped sideways as the club scraped past his shoulder and drove itself into the dirt of the swamp bank.
"In the name of Sigmar you shall be banished from this hellish swamp!" screamed Gottfried as he plunged his blade deep into the troll's side.
Back on the raft, Avandril furiously chanted as the scintillating colors of the wind of fire swirled about his head. Wrestling with the Aethyr, the wizard lifted his hands into the air in an attempt to call forth the flames. The winds of magic were highly unpredictable in the tainted area around the swamp, however, as Avandril soon discovered when his nose began to bleed, and his hair stood on end. The wizard had tempted fate once again, and his body was paying the price.
The king of the swamp chuckled at the failed conjuring attempt of the puny elf.
"Soon you fill my belly!" it shouted. A gruesome gurgling noise sounded from Thra'ak's innards. Vomit began cascading from its gaping maw, covering Gottfried Gustav where he stood. The vomit seeped beneath his armor, and burned through his skin. Going into shock, the politician slipped beneath the murky waters.
Seeing the only person he had ever cared for fall to the trolls disgusting vomit, Dimzad lost all control. The dwarf bellowed out a booming roar. He sliced his great axe through the monster's wrist, severing its hand. Putrid green ooze began to pour from the wound.
Felix drew his cudgel and a long hunting knife. He crept towards where he saw his opponent fall. Once he came to the location, the hunter leaped up from the undergrowth, stabbing a long spear at the mercenary. Felix's reflexes were slightly quicker. He parried the thrust with his knife and smashed the spear in half with his cudgel.
The creature he stared at was that of chaos. The thing looked as though it was once human. It now had patches of blotchy scales covering the entirety of its body. It had a third eye on its forehead that darted back and forth. A long tale slithered from its backside.
Felix watched as the hunter turned around and began to flee. Drawing a bola from his leg, he aimed and hurled the snare. It wrapped around his enemy, trapping its arms to its body. The weights on the ends caused enough force to knock the foe to the ground. Darting forward, Felix put one boot on the hunter's back. He raised his cudgel in both hands, bludgeoning the creature in its temple.
Even after losing its hand, Thra'ak did not seem to be fazed. It dropped its club and grabbed the dwarf by the throat. It opened its mouth and sunk its gnarled teeth into its opponents shoulder.
Dimzad was lost in his rage, simply ignoring the pain of Thra'aks destructive bite. He swung his axe, but the troll's reach was too long. The attack could not quite make contact.
Just then a fierce crackle sounded through the swamp, as the air grew warm and charged with energy. The wind of fire, at long last responding to his summons, coursed through the body of Avandril. Three shimmering fireballs shot out of the wizard's hands. They arced forward, crashing into the giant greenksin. The troll let out a blood curling screech as the fireballs melted its hide. It reeled onto its knees, and the pain of the flames shot through its body.
Seizing the moment, Dimzad ducked beneath the monster's grasp.
"For Grimnir!" he thundered.
Dimzad swung the great axe at the face of his hated enemy. He drove the blade deep into the troll's skull. Thra'ak let out a final gurgle, collapsed, and drew his last breath at the feet of the dwarf. Consumed by his rage, Dimzad began hacking and slashing at the enormous body that lay before him. He did not stop until all that remained were scattered remnants of flesh and bone.
Rolf awoke to the taste of metal.
"Nice try," said Felix, "You would have had me pinned if your aim was just a bit better." The mercenary cocked back the hammer of his pistol. "Any last words?"
The hunter squirmed as he attempted to form a sentence with the firearm in his mouth.
"What was that? I can't understand you scum."
Those were the last words Rolf would ever hear.