Warhammer: Age of Sigmar
The War of Blood and Fire
Chapter IV
For Van Kleef, who had been raised in the warm and breezy open skies of Lilea, the caverns of the duardin were small and claustrophobic. It was all too dark, with nothing but rocks far above the heads of himself and his men. Every time he looked he would only see a dark ceiling, an abyss above and around him that was only pierced by the light of the torches and small magma runes carved into the road they marched on. They had been marching for some days, although it was near impossible to tell without the rising of Hysh to signal the beginning or end of a day. The darkness unsettled Van Kleef, and his horse had taken a difficult time to enter into the cave. The animal was not built for living in darkness and shadowy caverns, and only the coaxing and whisperings of the priestess of the Maiden was his horse finally calmed down enough to ride. Other knights had the same problem, and he had already heard of a few that had to walk because of their horses belligerent nature. Van Kleef felt the most pitiful for his soldiers underneath them. Many of them were peasants or simple folk, a few trained for battle but most were not, and none of them had the experience of prolonged military engagements, especially in caverns. He could tell by the looks on their face that they were unsettled.
That was one thing Van Kleef could give credit to the duardin for. Their skills with stone working and masonry were clearly spectacular based on the road his men marched on. Every step he took saw him march across an impressively flat and solid road that winded its way into the caverns, the carved road smooth and straight. While his horse was unnerved by the general tightness of the tunnel, Van Kleef was at least assured that it wouldn't fall into a pit and break its leg. To provide light the duardin had carved massive runes into the walls of the tunnel, which glowed with an amber light, the appearance reminding him of molten rock. He had heard that the duardin had reinforced their tunnels, the "Pathways of Fire" with mighty runes to protect them from magma and captured molten magma and shaped it into glowing forms of light.
Van Kleef found it all rather impressive that the duardin had been able to accomplish this all. Generations had toiled to carve the Pathways of Fire, connecting the various magamholds of the Kurzvulk Lodge. The duardin might be short, squat, rough around the edges, impatient, and greedy, but they were quite good builders.
I wonder if they would be willing to rebuild Rosenwyk. Catharyna would like that very much, He mused in his head. Van Kleef's own home, Rosenwyk was a modest keep, for a modest knight-consort, and the castle had languished for many years ever since a terrible siege many decades before his time. Although the keep had been rebuilt enough to be defendable, it was still in a poor condition. Although, he doubted Catharyna would allow such a thing, seeing how low their finances were. The duardin of Kurz Valka were known for exacting heavy prices.
Thinking about his wife and lady made Van Kleef homesick, especially since she was recently with child. He wished he could be back in the open lands of his lady's fiefdom, hand in hand with his wife and holding his child in his arms, breathing in the sweet wind which blew over the castle's ramparts.
He sighed thinking about his home, knowing that it was a long way away, separated by miles of molten and solid rock.
The only way forward is forward. Fight hard and well and you'll make it home.
Deep in the darkness of Kurz Vulka, he prayed that would be true.
Kuungar, Blade of Khorne, cursed the continual darkness he found himself marching it. He was born, raised, and bleed upon the vast open plains of the Bloodlands, where towering fortresses reached up into the sky and stood erect against the thundering storms of the storm god Sigmar. He did not enjoy the constant marches within the confining spaces of the duardin holds.
But despite the clamped feeling he always had in the dark tunnels and molten cores of Kurz Valka, he was extremely pleased with the outcome of the campaign. The Herald of Khorne had been right; the Fyreslayers were weak from the assaults of the ghostly Nighthaunt armies.
The armies of the Bloodlords have made great headways against the duardin. Their defenses and fortresses were impressive, and would have been nearly unassailable in previous eras, but most were severely understaffed, relying on smaller garrisons that could not cover all the large defenses. Already Kuungar had wetted his blade with the blood of many duardin, and had been richly rewarded as well. The vaults of the magmaholds, when they could be broken into, held great piles of treasures. Piles of gold shaped into crowns, bracelets, or other forms were looted as were powerful weapons of incredible labor.
Still though, Kuungar hungered for more, and from the bloodthirsty looks amongst his comrades he could tell that they also wished for more battle and blood. Under the stern words of Vyrkhe the Khornate armies had only assaulted a few necessary outposts, but otherwise were largely restraining themselves from the great magmaholds to the west. The eastern magmaholds had already been weakened and thus were easy targets, but for the past few days the Herald of Khorne had marching quickly elsewhere, sending out squads of soldiers to seek out the great magmahold of Valkendreng. The various Bloodlords, each a vicious warlord in their own right, had assembled under the Herald's command and begun to flow with their forces into Kurz Valka. Kuungar had even heard that several hosts of enchained dragons had been whipped into submission, and now were being prepared for another underground assault. He had even heard rumors that they might be looking for some upper entrance on the tops of the mountains that led to the city.
Pah, cowards are those who rely on the strength of a dragon to face an enemy. Khorne favors only those who fight on the ground in front of their enemies!
It was the hope of Vyrkhe that the host of Khorne could march straight into the heart of Kurz Valka and strike the capital of the duardin, sacking their city and greatly weakening the forces of the Kurzvulk Lodge. It would certainly not be an easy task, but the prospects were delicious for the followers of the blood god.
And so Kuungar marched in the amber tunnels of the mountains, leading his own small core of Khornate warriors. He knew most of them, having arisen thanks to his strength and skill and proven himself a viable leader for the rabble of weapon-wielding devotees of Khorne. They had travelled far across the winding tunnels, and on several occasions had found themselves lost. The Pathways of Fire were foreign to them, and it was only through the use of captured duardin and many scouts that they had any idea where anything within the dark underground was.
Kuungar was quite certain that his posse of warriors, while a sizeable bunch, were best ready to turn back. They had found nothing of interest, and the longer his men went without conflict the more viciously they looked upon one another. Discipline had been maintained, but it would only last for so long.
It was thus a great surprise when one of the advancing scouts approached him with a weary heave. The scout was young, barely in his teens, and rather scrawny looking. His face was rugged and dirty, with short brown hair that looked like it had been pulled and cut very poorly the barest patches of armor that looked like it had been scavenged: pieces of leather around his arms, loose clothing cover his chest and red war paint sprayed over his face. The young boy was timid-looking but looking into his eyes Kuungar could see a fierceness, an incredible will that desired to live that hid beneath the boy's pupils.
"What is it?" Kuungar asked.
"S-sir," the boy composed himself, trying not to look intimidated by the hulking figure of Kuungar and his spiked armor, nor the great sword at his side. The scout continued, "There is a great host approaching us! I saw them ahead and they march this way!"
That instantly peaked Kuungar's interest.
"Duardin?"
The boy shook his head,
"No, humans. It is a force of great knights in heavy armor. They have large swords and ride atop strange beasts! I-I ran to warn you."
"Humans? Menfolk in the mountains of the duardin? Impossible!"
"I swear, I swear upon the Brass Throne!" the scout mumbled.
Well then this has become very interesting. What force would - ah, of course. The answer came to Kuungar very quickly: the honor-bound knights of Lilea!
There was no other alternative, although for Kuungar it left much to ponder. How was such as force of Sigmarite manlings in such as place as Kurz Valka? The duardin were nothing if strong in their isolation. Kuungar had heard tales that even with their allies the Fyreslayers of the Kurzvulk Lodge almost never let anyone not of their kin into their mountain holds.
It matters little why they are here. Only that they are here!
"Tell me, boy, what was the strength of this force of knights? How many were there?"
"I could see that there were many soldiers among them, and as far back as I could see into the tunnels they marched. They have many bright-colored shields and hold long spears and armor, and they march with heavy feet and stern faces!"
Kuungar thought for a moment about the matter. Many other warband leaders would have jumped at the opportunity to attack and spill blood, but Kuungar, for all his fervor and boldness, still preferred to face a foe he knew before attack. He felt the stirring in his hands to grab his sword and let it slate its thirst upon the blood of these champion knights, but he paused considering the numbers. The warband under him was strong and full of warriors used to battle, but they were fewer in number. And while Kuungar had never faced any Lilean in battle before, he had heard tales of their heroic knights who charged into battle upon their noble steeds, laying down any threat with a malicious attack of lances and devoted to strange ideals of honor and "chivalry."
"What is the commotion here?" came a ragged voice.
A blood warrior approached Kuungar, barely covered in any armor but wielding a ferocious iron ax, emblazoned with a great skull. It was Zhorkrak, the virtual second-in-command to Kuungar, who was known for his bellicose nature and wild temperament, but also an incredible fury that could be harnessed in battle. He had adorned with scars all over his body, which he proudly displayed. Kuungar watched him closely, knowing full well that Zhorkrak desired his position and authority, and to that end had often fought in the thick of it with the rest of the men to earn greater glory and loyalty for himself.
"This scout has informed me of a host of Lilean knights marching towards us."
Knights, here? Here of all places!" Zhorkrak laughed, an ugly sound, "Then we are truly blessed by Khorne, who has seen fit to finally give us a chance to fight!"
"Perhaps," Kuungar said, "But let us consider our options first."
"What, do you wish to wait longer?" Zhorkrak scoffed, "We have languished for days in these accursed tunnels, and you would refuse us our chance to strike against the enemies of Khorne?"
Zhorkrak stared at Kuungar angrily, and Kuungar returned a hard strong stare.
"We have been instructed by the Herald to act as the vanguard and find what we can. Khorne does not favor suicide, and so we must act prudently."
Zhorkrak stared Kuungar with a sneer. The young scout looked between the two of them, half-expecting both to suddenly reach out for each other's throat and try to tear each other apart.
Zhorkrak suddenly gave a wicked grin, and Kuungar almost shuddered from it.
"Come here, men! Our leader has good news! We have Lileans to fight!"
The motley band of Khornate warriors quickly gathered around the two men after hearing the commotion, and gave off different shouts of jubilation.
"Is it true? Do we finally have a fight on our hands?" asked one of the large bulky fellows, his muscles rippling under his red armor.
Kuungar looked around, quickly scanning the faces of his warband, all of them bloodthirsty. He looked back at Zhorkrak, who was still smiling wickedly. He had played well, and there was little Kuungar could now do. Either refuse and loose a great deal of respect, or concede, and give Zhorkrak even more influence.
You've won this round, but I'll see your head under my sword, Zhorkrak. Kuungar vowed.
"Yes," he boasted, "We have! Ready your blades, for they shall be slated with red thirst!"
The men cheered and roared.
Van Kleef drank from the bottle of wine, relishing the tingling in his fingers as he consumed the last of it. He wiped his brow as he sat down. The Lilean-duardin host had rested for a while, and Van Kleef was using the opportunity to stretch himself. He held onto his horse with one hand, as his mare was still agitated by the tunnels.
Lodewijk stepped up next to him, complaining.
"By the Maiden's tears, I thought summers in Haarland were hot!"
Van Kleef chuckled at his friends expense as his fellow knight sat down by him.
"How are you men doing?" Van Kleef asked.
"Oh, about the same as yours are, I suppose. None of us are used to this," he looked up, only darkness above them, "enclosed arena we find ourselves. The priestesses of the Maiden are a great comfort, but they can only help so much."
Van Kleef nodded, thinking about his home again, and the smell of a cool brook and the feel of wet grass. "So long as they are ready for what's ahead. I merely hope we all are."
"Well, marching in the pits of a broiling volcano might not be the most appealing prospects but we - "
Lodewijk stopped speaking, and a confused look crossed his face.
"What?" Van Kleef said.
His friend did not respond but stood up, staring forward into the darkness ahead.
Van Kleef stood up as well, suddenly alert. He had learned over the years that Lodewijk had an almost unnatural ability to sense when something dangerous was about to occur. Van Kleef liked to joke that Lodewijk had been kissed by a Fayborn when he was born, but either way he had grown accustomed to Lodewijk's shifting movements.
Van Kleef put his hand on the hilt of his sword and asked, "Do you see something?"
"I don't know." That was the only reply.
Van Kleef was about to ask again, when he suddenly heard something. It was soft at first, a gentle, if rapid, thumping sound. It grew louder and clearer as it approached and Van Kleef quickly recognized it: the sound of running boots, charging head first.
He turned to Lodewijk to confirm it, and his friend nodded. That was all Van Kleef needed to know that it was a threat.
"Battle stations! All men rally to me!" Van Kleef shouted as Lodewijk ran off to his own group of men.
His shouts raised an instant commotion as soldiers who had sat down to rest suddenly sprang. They grabbed their swords, spears, and shields, and to Van Kleef's pleasure instantly began to rally around him. Van Kleef placed his helmet back on while considering whether to jump upon his horse. After an agonizing moment, he thought against it, unsure how well his horse could bare the strain of underground combat. Besides, his very presence on the ground among his men would bolster their morale.
The temporary camp was thrown into a flurry of motion as Van Kleef quickly the first line of defense against whatever was coming. And as he looked out into the dimly lit tunnels ahead, he saw just what exactly he was facing. It was a rabid band of hulking warriors, dozens of them in a poorly formed line charging straight towards them. Some were on foot while many were riding atop ferocious looking monsters, great beasts with four scaly legs and a dragon-like snout that snapped as they lumbered forward. Van Kleef recognized them from their shouts "Blood for the Blood God!" and skull-covered armor as servants the detestable Chaos god Khorne, who relished the sight of warfare and shredded blood.
It was a strike attack and looking at the lines of soldiers still scrambling to gather their weapons and form up around him, Van Kleef realized that it would be a devastating first blow. The Lilean vanguard was not prepared for such an attack so soon.
He pulled out his sword and shield, trying to stand tall while he prayed for strength from the Maiden. Around him a few peasant warriors had clamored, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Lodewijk rally his own men. By now the entire front vanguard of Lilean could see the charging threat and were jumping over themselves to form a defensive line.
The Khornate marauders were making a good start and were only a few dozen feet away, ready to sink their swords, axes, and other wicked weapons into the flesh of the Lileans.
Van Kleef's muscles clenched, and the blood thundered across his body as he felt the expected surge of energy that came with every fight.
Suddenly, the air grew still and even amid the fury of war the soldiers began to quiet as the armored knight slowly walked forward. It seemed liked he had appeared out of nowhere, although he must have run from further behind the convoy. He was clad in light armor, with a long purple hood over his armored helm. Most striking of all was heavily armored gauntlets, thicker than a regular knights.
Van Kleef shuddered with realization. It was a mage knight, born with the unnatural gift of magic. Men could not dare wield it with abandon, for the Ruinous Powers would surely corrupt his soul piece of by piece. Only the training of the priestesses of the Maiden and with great restraint could such men be used for the purposes of good.
The mage knight stepped forward boldly, as the crazed Khornate warriors charged towards them. He reached out with his right hand, covered in a mighty gauntlet, and paused. The soldiers around him watched in awe as the altering powers of magic swarmed around his fingers, gathered together like pieces of chaff. The mage knight's hands sputtered with lightning, and before the Khornate barbarians descended and hacked him to pieces he slammed his fist down onto the ground!
A surge of blue lightning smashed into the ground, breaking the advance of the Chaos warriors. Several howled in agony as their flesh was seared with bolts of electricity cutting into their flesh. It did not completely stop the march of Khornate warriors, but it did slow it and give them a temporary pause, which Van Kleef and the rest of the Lilean soldiers quickly took advantage of.
"Form ranks and advance!" Van Kleef shouted at his soldiers.
The Lilean peasantry quickly formed an ad hoc line of spears and shields, and with their lord at the helm they charged the line of Khornate warriors. The magical strike by the mage-knight had provided the perfect opportunity to attack. Enemy warriors howled as spears slammed against them and several of the fighters were thrown to the ground and viciously slaughtered. Van Kleef swung his sword back and forth as he charged, blocking one strike from another crazed warrior and stabbing him with his sword. Around him the rest of his men were doing the same, although now the tides were beginning to even out.
The Khornate assault had been broken up but the line of attackers still had run into the advancing Lileans. Embolden by the mad faith to their god, they were still dealing a bloody blow to the forces under Van Kleef, with axes and thick swords striking against shield and spear. The fight now became something more of a brawl, as thick sets of bodies smashed and pushed into each other. Men screamed around Van Kleef as he hacked with his steel blade. One Khornate warrior roared at him and swung his ax down to cut down Van Kleef. He jumped back and stabbed forward with his sword, which dug into the man's shoulder. The man howled, and Van Kleef jumped forward with his fists, pummeling the face of his opponent with his armored fists that smashed the man's jaw. Pulling his sword out he heft it up and brought it down, cutting deep into the neck of the warrior and cutting him down.
Van Kleef turned his attention to another opponent, barely able to glance around at the battle around him. The Lilean soldiers and few knights who had entered the fray were putting up a tough resistance, but the Khorne-worshippers were used to battle and were much larger and stronger. In the tight quarters they all found themselves the great strength of the Khornate attackers proved a great asset. One hulking warrior was covered in wounds but refused to die, grabbing men by their heads and tossing them around like little dolls. Another was swinging two great axes which cut into the poorly armored peasants who had been conscripted to fight. Worst of all were the "cavalry" units, those heavily armored and riding atop their wretched steeds, which bit and munched on the legs and arms of Lilean soldiers.
Van Kleef could just see Lodewijk holding his own, his friend's sword swinging like a graceful swan as it danced with the choppy axes and blades of his opponents. And elsewhere he saw flashes of lightening and howls of pain. He presumed it was the mage-knight, who was calling upon their eldritch spells to devastate the Khornate warriors.
A vicious berserker knocked Van Kleef to the ground, snapping and howling at him with a savage look in his eyes. Before the knight could fight back, a spear ran into the back of the warrior who was pinning Van Kleef. The warrior shouted at the shuttering spearman who had attacked him, and forgetting about Van Kleef he pounced onto the peasant. The poor man screamed as he was torn apart, but it granted Van Kleef a chance to stand back up. Taking out his sword he swung it furiously and hacked into the flesh of the Khornate warrior, cutting again and again until the raving man felt on top of the peasant whose throat he had ripped out.
It was all a terribly blood affair. Men screamed and shouted as they hacked against one another. Axes and hammers cut into chainmail and leather, spears jabbed into flesh and skin. Van Kleef, trained for such matters, kept his composure as he battled one Khornate barbarian after another, although he felt himself grow warm and sweaty from exertion. Thankfully there wasn't any dust, but the ground was hard and rocky as he pushed forward against the line of warriors.
The small battle ebbed and flowed, with the vicious brutality of the Khornate chargers given them an edge as they grinded their weapons against the Lileans. By this point, however, Van Kleef could see that the rest of the convoy was advancing. He saw fresh troops and more knights suddenly burst into the fray, and the Khornate warriors, who had easily been overrunning the poorly-armored peasant soldiers, began to grow overwhelmed. Van Kleef felt a surge of energy and shouted out "For Lilea and the Maiden!"
His call worked to bolster the morale and the Lileans began to push back. Dozens were being slaughtered but many of the Khornate warriors were falling to spears and arrows. Somewhere Van Kleef heard a terrible beast howl, something like a mix between a dogs bark and a pig squeal, and he saw a bright flash of lightning as one of the armored beasts and their rider fell onto the ground.
Despite being overrun, the entire band of Khornate warriors still fought on, and incredibly it seemed they were fighting even more fervently. Van Kleef had to dodge several attacks from a vicious berserker who snarled like a caged animal and swung his weapon around with wild abandon. The Lileans pushed on, surrounding the Khornate warriors and cutting them down.
A terrible roar shook Van Kleef as he saw a particularly hulking figure charge him. He looked up and saw a massive warrior bedecked in heavy red armor, giant spikes jutting out. The warrior wore know helmet but had dozens of scars across his face and gave Van Kleef a bitter sneer. At the side of the Khornate warrior was a great two-headed ax, skulls hanging from its side and iron teeth forged onto its sides.
The massive warrior charged while Van Kleef readied his weapons, and the two clashed together. Van Kleef instantly recognized that the man was very strong, as he ax buried into Van Kleef's shield, cutting a great chunk into it. Van Kleef sliced with his sword but his opponent's armor was to thick on the sides. The Lilean jumped back and tried to analyze for some weakness.
The two of them carefully danced around each other, with Van Kleef relying on his speed to try to cut the open areas around his opponent. He barely missed one massive cut from the Khornate warrior's ax, which nicked his arm. Van Kleef deftly avoided his opponent's great ax, and after spying an opening swung with his sword, trying to cut the exposed face. He missed but caused the warrior to move back. Before Van Kleef could react, the warrior lowered his stance and charged, running like an angry bull and smashing into the knight. He tossed Van Kleef back, who crumpled onto the ground.
The warrior marched forward to bring his ax down, but just before he did another figure crashed into him. It was Lodewijk! His body did little against the massive frame of the attacker, but it slowed him down, and Lodewijk used the surprise to swing his sword and brought it down, cutting into the left side of the attacker's face. The warrior roared and clutched his bleeding left eye. He brought his axe around and swung it down. Van Kleef could only hear Lodewijk give a great cry of anguish as his friend fell onto the ground.
The attacker still clutched his bleeding head, and saw numerous Lileans surrounding him, blocking his path towards the knights on the ground.
Van Kleef looked up into the face of his attacker. The Khornate warrior sneered, grunted, and with a roar ran back, retreating.
Van Kleef groaned but quickly got up, aided by several attendants. He brushed them off and ran over to his friends side, to see how badly hurt Lodewijk was.
He didn't see the rest of the Lileans butcher the last attackers, nor the cheer that went up. Instead he called for help, and several of his men dashed to his side to inspect Lodewijk's wounds.
It was clear that Lodewijk's leg had received the majority of the damage, with a great cut dug into it. Lodewijk was groaning in pain, but that was the only other major injury. Even still, his wound was badly damaged, twisted in an awkward angle and Lodewijk winced at every movement he made.
"Get me a healer, now!" Van Kleef barked, glancing around at the men surrounding him. Several dashed off to obey his orders. Van Kleef then turned to the others gathered around him and said, "Keep your arms up in case of a secondary attack. Chase down any that fled but don't go to far."
The peasant soldiers nodded and marched off.
"Is your friend hurt, knight-consort?"
Van Kleef looked up to see who was addressing him. It was the mage knight from before, his armor dirty and his hood scratched, but otherwise the figure was largely undamaged. His hood still covered his face, and Van Kleef felt a guttural unease well up in himself again.
"Er, yes, Sir Lodewijk has received some injuries in the fight."
Van Kleef stepped up and motioned the mage knight, "Here, help me sir..."
"Joep, Joep of the Maiden," the mage knight responded.
"Sir Joep, help me move him to the healers. I'm not letting my friend die to any Maiden-cursed barbarians!"
Lord-Consort Jurrian Spaaj looked over the sprawled bodies of his fellow Lileans. He was not expecting such an attack so soon, and was irritated by how many soldiers had already been lost. The typical process of removing dead bodies from a battlefield was different when taken underground. Instead of being able to bury the dead, most of the fallen had been stripped of valuables and then handed over to the duardin. Lord Brossi and his company of Fyreslayers had vowed that they would be returned back to the last legs of Haarland and from there they could be properly laid to rest. Jurrian didn't want to think about it, but sooner or later he would have to address the fact that those who were slain in the caverns would not likely be able to be buried in their homeland.
He distracted himself from thinking about that future problem by focusing on the present. He called for the knights who had led the valiant defense and waited. Several minutes later Van Kleef appeared, dirty and covered in red splotches, but otherwise walking with stride and confidence. He removed his helmet and bowed to one knee.
"Sir Jurrian," he said respectfully. Jurrian found himself impressed. Van Kleef was of modest build and had short brown hair and a simple face, but carried himself humbly, and respected the codes of conduct between knights and superiors. Too many knight-consorts would have been more boisterous of their victory and swaggered with more confidence before the lord-consort. But Van Kleef composed himself simply but honorably. Jurrian found he already was starting to like this man.
"Sir Van Kleef, you have done a great honor, both to yourself, and to the Maiden, in your conduct today. I have heard that your quick thinking and actions helped to rally our men against the sudden assault by the Khorne-slaves."
Van Kleef bowed reverently and said, "Thank you, Lord-Consort. I have merely done my duty, but I do not deserve all the credit. Sir Lodewijk was the first to alert me to the threat, and fought just as valiantly, and has suffered a grievous wound for his service."
"I heard of such things. Tell me, how is the good Lodewijk?"
Van Kleef gave a paused look but said, "His leg has been greatly damaged, but Gifted Daughter Alida has largely healed the wound as best she can. The other priestesses assure me that he will survive, although it is likely that he will continue to struggle with his leg."
"Then we must ensure that he has not suffered in vain. Sir Van Kleef, I commend you and Sir Lodewijk for your efforts in preserving our vanguard, but now we must turn ourselves to other pressing matters. We have had our first taste of the enemy, and they are rabid foes, vicious and zealous."
"If I may," Van Kleef began, "We were lucky there were as small as they were. A large force could due unexpected damage."
Jurrian nodded in agreement and could see that Sir Van Kleef had more to say.
"I would suggest, my lord, that we maintain a more vigilant vanguard that will be prepared to form up in case of any attack by the enemy."
"A good proposition. As you have done well so far in this position, you shall be given continued charge over the frontline defenses. I will speak with Lord Brossi hopefully you can be bolstered by more Fyreslayers to defend your position."
"Thank you, Lord-Consort."
As Van Kleef bowed and stood up, a group of strong men appeared before the two. They were dragging a small boy, clearly not Lilean, with their large branch-like fingers clenched around the boys arms.
"Now then, let us turn to this matter," Sir Jurrian walked over to the whimpering boy gripped tightly by the soldiers. "Who is he?"
"Some little runt we found under some bodies," one of the men answered, "He was a nasty little fellow when we tried to grab him; gave one of the poor blokes a good smashing in the eye. We don't know his name or anything else."
The boy was young and looked around with wild eyes, trying to struggle against the arms holding him. He looked like he was expecting them to cut him up into little pieces. Sir Jurrian recognized the look like that of a wild animal in a trap, unnerved and ready to lash out at anything that got to close. He made sure to stay a few paces away.
"Well boy," boomed Jurrian, "Do you have a name?"
His address made the boy look up the lord-consort. Sir Jurrian asked again.
"What is your name?"
The boy muttered out something.
"Answer him boy!" yelled one of the soldiers, who kicked him. The boy cried out and shouted something in a language none of the Lileans understood.
Jurrian fingered his sword at his side and said, "Hmm, perhaps we should just end the Khornate here and now. He clearly does not speak our tongue."
"Hold your sword good Jurrian," a voice rumbled out. Everyone turned to see Lord Brossi stepping his way over to them, his dark peg leg tapping into the solid ground.
"Why would you want me to spare this fiend? He is a son of Khorne, the very people attacking your lands."
"Aye," Lord Brossi said, "That is true. But he is a boy. He is no warrior, not a true one; look at him. But he might know something of their numbers, or their plans. And we must not march into the magamdroth's belly with ignorance."
"What can we learn from this child if we cannot understand him?" asked Jurrian.
In response, Brossi said something that none of the Lileans could understand, but which instantly caused the boy to stop struggling so much. He looked up in confusion and asked something in his own language. Brossi responded, speaking some guttural tongue that the boy knew.
"You speak their language?" Jurrian tried to hide his disgust, but even the thought of speaking the same words as the accursed followers of Khorne felt like blasphemy to the Maiden.
"I do. I have lived for far longer than any of you manlings, and I've learned many tongues over that time. Including those of my enemies."
"Then what do you propose, Lord Brossi?"
The duardin thought for a moment than gave a slight smile and said, "Give the little manling to me and he will be my charge. I can interrogate him, see what he knows, and perhaps he can tell us more about the Herald's plans. The latest news I know is that the Vyrkhe is somewhere further east, gathering his forces for an assault. We need as much information as we can get."
Jurrian found it strange that duardin would take the task, but he found the logic behind it sound. Besides, the boy would be Brossi's challenge if he was handed over. Jurrian stared into the face of the boy, whose eyes glinted back at him. They had a hardness behind them, but were pleading for mercy.
"Very well, Lord Brossi. I would rather see every dishonorable and barbaric servant of the Blood Lord slain for their wickedness, but the Maiden entices us to eb merciful. I would advice caution though; these Bloodbound are vicious little rats."
Lord Brossi grunted in affirmation, "Aye, I know, far better than most."
A/N
This is the first major battle scene I've ever really written, so hopefully it came off well. I didn't want to focus too much on the blood and gore and excessive violence, but conflict is a bloody and brutal affair, and I wanted to depict more honestly the brutality of it. This chapter also sees the real first taste of conflict that is to come between the Khornate Bloodbound and the various forces gathered against them.
So far, these chapters have only focused on the outsider perspective, but next chapter we will finally see the perspective of the fyreslayers themselves.