| INHERITANCE; The Rise of the Desert Rats | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 29th April 2007 - 12:59 AM (235 Views) | |
| FatherSquee | 29th April 2007 - 12:59 AM Post #1 |
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Holder of Clan Pestilens "Most Sexiest" Award
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*Taken from Asur* Well here it is, I've you've read any of my typing they you would of know that i had been working on this thing for some time! Now that all the fighting is done we Desert Rats can finally come out and fully reveal ourselves to the world. First I'd like to say that we were never fighting for the Skaven, but we wern't fighting for Nehekhara either; we were fighting for ourselves, the Desert Rats. Unlike normal factions we actually spaned two of the FoR groups, making our say and some of our control span the entire southern region. This piece of fluff is the final fight on our road to Inheritance, Part One was to be my entry for the story comp while Part Two is us finally breaking out, using not only our story line but also the one from Necre's Death (http://www.asur.org.uk/ulthuan/viewtopic.php?t=20884) and the Hour of the Rat (http://www.asur.org.uk/ulthuan/viewtopic.php?t=20887) Thanks guys for letting me tag on your stories as well. We were a small group but a strong one, and hopefully if/when we have the next Asur campaign we'll see some new faces under the banner of Clan Husk and the Desert Rats of Nehekhara! We Shall Inherit! Inhertitance Part One: Action To call the royal hall extravagant would be quite the understatement. The opulent hall was massive, filled with precious items of such high quality that a normal man would work half a lifetime to gain but one piece of it. Open balconies gave way to the vast desert sands, a landscape that only they could truly behold for all its beauty, they in the service of the High King Nagash that is. Kaleb looked out on the landscape now taking in all he could. Kaleb was only six, the youngest of Nagash’s attendants, which was saying something for the High King never took on anyone older than twelve, this served multiple purposes as the children never grew strong enough to threaten him but also when they were older they were already well under his control and more than ready to lead his many armies. Kaleb didn’t concern himself with that now though, at the moment all he was expected to do was offer his skills to Nagash in whatever way he could. “Kaleb! There you are!” It was his friend Ibish, Nagash’s personal food taster. “You need to stop with your incessant dreaming before you truly make the High King mad, you wouldn’t want him to take your sight now would you?” “No Ibish! I was just-” “Never mind now, we are ready and you are required by your Lords side.” “Yes Ibish, I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry just go, quick!” *** Thick over-brush covered the mouth of the small cavern, all but removing any source of light within. A small animal, made its way inside, disrupting the silence within but after a quick sniff of the air it quickly left, a few seconds later though it came flying back into the cave, freshly impaled on a darkened blade. “You-you made it,” said a voice out of the shadows within. “I presume you were not followed?” “None can track me.” The newcomer’s voice was of a lower pitch than the shadows but it sounded almost forced, his words were slow and measured as he spoke. “Good-good, it is imperative that none know of this meeting or of what we plan to do less we give ourselves away too soon, we’ve worked hard to get to where we-we are now and I can’t loose it all now; not-not when were so close.” “So what is the plan then? Do you now wish for me to remove someone? Wait, let me guess you want me to kill-” “Quiet fool! You-you can never be too careful about who is listening in, the more confidant you become the more you lose your instincts. In any case no one will die just yet, at least no one important as they still have their uses. No what I want you to do is steal something for me.” “Steal something? If that is all then why all the train with the Arabian assassins at all?” “Because your target is no ordinary item, here it is all written on this.” A hand reached from the shadow towards the assassin, which he promptly grabbed; though as he read the note the assassin’s seemed visibly shaken. “You-you can’t be serious!” “I am.” “Do you think it is actually possible? I mean he never takes it off; he could fry any one of us at a glance. He could destroy entire legions of men if he chose to do so!” “But-but it needs to be done for us to Inherit. Use your training and your instincts, we-we have faith in you. Do this and you-you will have power beyond your dreams! None will ever doubt us-us as the true masters again!” The assassin stood there, staring into the shadow where for the briefest of moments he thought he saw a flicker of light. “It will be done,” and without another word the assassin exited the cave, thoughts of the prize dancing within his head. *** The grand armies of Nehakhara stood before High King Nagash. With regiments as vast as the sands themselves surely none could doubt the power of Nehekhara! Through all the regal ceremony Kaleb stood by his Master along side the dozen other child servants, ready to offer his aid in any way he could. Striding towards them were the leaders of Nagash's various armies, most were men born of Nehekharen blood though there were a few more…exotic faces as well. A most noble Half Elf, gladly willing to battle with some of his own blood kin as well as the massive and courageous Lizardmen were a few who now stood tall alongside their men. Then their were the shadier characters who have joined the Nehekharen cause; the Vampires strong in their belief that all will one day be just like them, though they were still better than the last of their mixed group; the Skaven. These man sized rats that have now become as engrained into the Desert as much as the large humpbacks that traverse it. Kaleb remembered a time when they were told to shun all outside races but now in these strange times we're embracing them more than ever, giving them power over the largest of Legions and taking their advice with little question. In the end though it didn't matter for Nagash is a true Nehekharen and he would never let anybody take his Kingdom from him. The various generals approached and kneeled before the High King after them the three Over Generals then offered their respect to their ruler. Each Legion was represented by one, all except for the largest legion; Phar. It was this legion that the Desert Rats had recently taken control of under the harsh gaze of Lord Grimesh, then their was Warlord Jac-Jaculus. The Warlord controlled no Legion of his own, though he did claim himself ruler over all of the Desert Rat tribes, which in a sense made him Lord Grimesh's superior, though that situation was a little different. Thankfully the rest of them stayed back with their troops; Kaleb thought he could make out the dread ex-bandit known as Slyfe off in the distance. "My Legions." Spoke Nagash with a voice amplified by his strong magic. At the sound of his call all those assembled let out a massive roar. "You have fought on the sands of our great desert and beyond as those refusing our superiority fight to steal away land that is rightfully ours. They run blindly through our dunes racing to stay ahead of our might in a fruitless attempt to dissuade us from taking the lands that they have taken and though they may have slowed my progress into our homelands they have not stopped us." At this point Nagash gazed down at his generals, "It is time we continue with my next task. If I am to truly rule over this world then we need to move out now before it is too late and with the Circlet now in my poss-" The High King was cut short as one of the generals kneeling before him suddenly stood. There was fear but mostly anger in his eyes as he stared directly at Lord Nagash. “Murderer!" He yelled at his master. "Your treacherous ways are coming to an end O 'High King of the Desert!' We are gathering, many of stand against you; we who wish to keep our lives and our honor intact without your insane magic! We are not afraid and so we strike!" With insane courage that only the famed Dervishes can muster the General drew his blades and charged at Nagash, screaming praises to the True Gods as he came. *** Two years ago... The Alondil tribe had just unpacked the last of their supplies and settled down to rest next to one of the few communal oasis' scattered throughout the desert. There were other tribes gathered there and they traded goods as well as stories about their travels. Zandric El-Ibis, leader of the Alondil tribe made his way down to the water. "Ah my old friend Zandric! What camels have you for me?" With a hearty laugh the overweight merchant known as Galib came up to the tribe leader. "You have to still pay me for the last half dozen I gave you last time!" Both laughed as they walked to the waters edge. "So what news of the southern desert?" asked Zandric. "Bah, trade has been slowing as of late. Seems something down there has spooked some of the settlements; stories of people mysteriously disappearing. Stories of people who don’t even breathe!" "Most likely the wives telling their children inflated stories so they won't stay out late at night" Zandric said with a smirk. “I’m not so sure about that, the stories are wide spread. They say the mumbling ones speak the truth about what is going on.” They looked over to one who was clearly not of a sound state of mind. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. "Galib, stop shifting the sand I can't hear him." "…That wasn't me…" Galib looked down at their feet and his face went white, the sand beneath them started to move of it own accord. Zandric and Galib started to back peddle but it wasn't long before a grey skeletal hand reached up and out of the ground. "It-it's them! Those who don't breathe!" Galib screamed and tried to get away but another hand shot up right next to the first and snatched him. "Zandric! Help me!" Zandric grabbed onto Galib's hand and pulled with all of his might but the sand under his feet was too lucid, he was forced to let go or wind up getting caught himself. Zandric watched in horror his long time friend disappeared underneath the sand. The monsters were appearing everywhere now, some of which were already out of the ground. They were the most frightening things he had ever seen; they look to be men but everything that truly made them a man was stripped away leaving only bones. They didn't breathe for they had no lungs to breathe with! Zandric ran back to his camp to try and save as many as he could. "Hurry!" he yelled. "Run! Get out into the desert and head north!" With nothing to stop the onslaught Zandric bolted to the edge of camp to follow the rest of his tribe, on his way out though one last hand reached out and grabbed him, as Zandric fell he cracked his head on something hard and everything went black. After an uncountable amount of time Zandric slowly gained conscious again. He was still lying where he had fell, amazingly when he had fallen his head made contact with the one coming out of the sand, fortunately his skull was tougher and crushed the other one. After a few minutes Zandric though he could hear voices coming from back at the oasis, carefully he inched back into a position where he could see what was going on. The entire oasis was filled with undead now, most of which were holding the bodies of those who had just died. To his surprise a Priest was standing in the center of them all, seemingly commanding the undead horde! Zandric watched in astonishment as he saw the Priest lay his hands on one of the freshly dead and as a chill wind sprouted seemingly from nowhere the once dead body now rose on its own two feet! Zandric must have made a noise for the Priest suddenly turned to his direction; he ducked down and prayed that he wasn't seen. Zandric seemed to wait for hours before he chanced looking back, this time the oasis was changed once again; all of the creatures and the dead were gone; it was just a simple oasis once again. With anger in his hart Zandric rose from the ground and made his way north, never again would he trust his so called High King. Nagash. *** With a scream that held all the fury of one who has lost everything Zandric launched himself at Nagash. Through instinct that was literally bred into him Kaleb and his fellow child servants immediately moved in to protect their Lord. Zandric charged in and raised his swords but as he did his eyes made contact with Kaleb's and with that simple gaze all of the fight was sucked out of Zandric, he fell to the ground weeping uncontrollably as he dropped his swords to his side. With a stone look on his face High King Nagash stepped out from behind his wall of children and knelt down in front of the broken man and leaned his head in close to his ear. "You are a brave man and a true Nehekharen young one." Zandric tried to look up at Nagash but couldn't. "You have shown true spirit of one who leads, and so I will allow you to lead my armies." "...What...?" said Zandric between sobs. "Yes. You will lead my undead horde as mercilessly they lay waste to all those around." "No...!" "You will become the one thing you hate and fear the most and you will forever bow to me as your Eternal Lord, Zandric El-Ibis of the Alondil tribe." "You…are too late.” Zandric said with a smile as he pulled back his robe to reveal a sigil; one that looked almost like an upside-down pyramid. “We…will…prevail!” The assassin that was all but a shadow on the wall took that moment to strike. Gliding down the pillar as his Arabian robes held back whatever sound he might of made, he charged forward but at the last moment one of the child servants moved to intercept the killer, but unlike Zandric this assassin cared not for children and slid his blade right through the child’s windpipe. Quick as lightning he leapt over the fallen child and came down upon Nagash. Distracted the Lord of Nehekhara didn’t have time to react to the attack but a blow never came, instead the assassin reached down and plucked Nagash’s prized Circlet right off of his head! Warlord Jac-Jaculus saw what was going on and raced from his kneeling position to catch the thieving assassin. Jac-Jaculus was quick though the assassin seemed quicker for when Jac reached for the assailant all he could catch was his cloak, which he quickly detached from his person. The man underneath was still quite hidden though on his chest was the same upside-down pyramid worn by the fallen Zandric. With that the assassin made his getaway into the shadows. Furious Nagash looked down as Jac-Jaculus. “If you truly wish to prove you’re worth vermin then you and your people will retrieve my prize!” With a simple nod to Lord Grimesh they were off to pursue the assassin. Off to the side forgotten and discarded lay Kaleb, bleeding profusely from his throat he took one last look at the glorious desert landscape and with a smile on his face closed his eyes for the last time. Mice and Men Part Two: Reaction The two rats fought each other, neither willing to give ground to what they thought was rightfully theirs. Each were utterly focused on the other as primal instincts took over, blind slashes were thrown wildly and fangs were barred, one of them was bound to slip up at one point, then it happened. One of them took a wide swing with his sharpened claws but the other deftly dodged the blow and charged forward, knocking the first over. He was dazed and the other was not about to leave his opportunity pass, with a squealing shriek he jumped at the downed rat…and was promptly stepped on by a large Skaven paw before he could land his finishing blow. Slyfe didn't notice the small Jerboa though as he was locked in a fatal battle himself. His opponent was quite a fight, though the ex-bandit would never let him know it. He has skill and grace in his moves even though he fought with the fury held my so many desert folk. Kritsik was what the others called him as they chanted his name. True he was a great fighter but he would never really be a great leader and that in the end would prove to be his downfall, he would always be a student of the deadly arts and never it's master. Kritsik noticed Slyfe's momentary lack of concentration and charged forward, his blade slashed straight in through the leader's robes and with a with a sickening crunch got stuck on bone hidden underneath. A cheer went up as Slyfe stumbled backward, Kritsik turned to wards his teacher sitting at the other end and lowered his snout in respect. "Forgot your sword," called the old bandit from behind him. Before Kritsik could react Slyfe pulled the blade from his chest, revealing Clan Husk's signature bone armor underneath. Kritsik was too shocked to move as Slyfe raised both his sword and Kritsik's, stabbing both down into the Adept's paws. The squeal was deafening though it was nothing compared to the one that he let out when he lost his balance and fell, ripping both blades from his feet. Collapsed and beaten Kritsik could do nothing but cower as his teacher looked down upon him. He stared a long time at Slyfe the Knife before speaking, "You have come a long way my student." "You-your champion has failed teacher, as I say no man-thing will ever stand up to the true race of-of the Skaven. " The Teacher sneered at the Slyfe. He was a strong human and a proud Nehekharen, one worthy of teaching the arts of assassination to those around him, though the thought of this vermin having bested all of his students was almost more than he could bear. "You have not proven your superiority yet Skaven, you have not yet fought me." The teacher stood and moved down to the fighting pit to stand before Slyfe, "this will be your final test." "And this-this teacher will be your end-final battle." *** The shadow known as Kritsik ran for his life. "Holy-holy Horned Rat please let me live-survive these next few moments!" He looked down at the prize he now held in his hands, the Circlet of Iron. He could almost feel the power seeping from it; he was amazed how something so simple could be so important. He took a quick glance behind him and noticed Lord Grimesh hurrying back to gather his troops, Warlord Jac-Jaculus himself was giving chase to the assassin now as he made his get away though Kritsik wasn't worried about him, he could easily out-sprint the undead Warlord no Kritsik was more worried about- "Slyfe!" Kritsik squeaked as he rounded the corner and nearly barreled right into the deadly Skaven. "Master-master Slyfe to you." "But-but you...you're standing with your troops! You can't be in-in two places!" "The real trick-sneak is being in three places at once," replied Slyfe with the slightest of grins. It was at this point when Warlord Jac-Jaculus joined them, followed soon after by Nagash himself. The assassin shook uncontrollably with fear as he sprayed musk all over the place; Nagash grimaced, as the literal smell of fear hit is nostrils. "Give it here," said the Warlord as he moved to deny any possible escape. "N-no. No! I-I have new Masters now! You-you strike me down and-and all of Skaven clan-might will come!" Slyfe approached from the rear, blatantly ignoring the threat. It wasn't until Kritsik raised the Circlet did they stop. "I-I'll do it! I'll smash it!" "Enough of this," said Nagash as he moved forward. Without even thinking the assassin brought down the Circlet and smashed it on the ground, he must of only then realized what he had done for his eyes went wide with horror. He tried to jump up out of the circle but Nagash was quicker and grabbed him by the ankle in mid-flight. He hung upside down struggling and squirming with all the force of a captured beast. "You shouldn't have done that," and with that dark energies pulsed through the Lich's hand and down into Kritsik's leg, he let our a sickening scream as his body literally shriveled up and died on him, it wasn't long before he was a simple husk of his former self. Jac-Jaculus bent down to pick up the broken Circlet of Iron and handed it back to Nagash. "I-I am sorry lord, the damage is too-too much." "I don't care about that scrap metal, it's not even the real Circlet." The Warlord would have been surprised to hear this though he actually expected as much. "So you keep is somewhere else then? Some where safe?" "Safe enough to keep meddling hands off of it." Slyfe looked down at the shriveled rat at their feet. "He-he had switch-changed alliances, he was no Desert Rat but a Skaven of the Council," Slyfe sneered slightly as he said it. "They are spy-smart, they could of known where the-the real Circlet is. This could of-of been just a diversion." The High King stood there eyeing the pungent vermin in front of him, he noticed that the Skaven wouldn't dare meet his gaze, boosting his already inflated ego. "Impossible. None can beat my Royal Guard, certainly no one not of Nehekhara." "I-I would not be so sure my Lord," said the Warlord. "Those Skaven no nothing of your values of honor and man-thing might, they would attempt." Nagash sighed, "You will go and check. I have more important things to take care of." "Yes High King." With that the Lich Lord turned back to finish his dealings with his armies. The Warlord looked over at the ex-bandit standing across from him, "Well, then let-let us go and check on the Circlet then." The treasury was completely ransacked; the Royal Guards at the front were literally strung up by their organs, still standing their morbid watch. Inside the only thing left standing was a small pedestal at the other end of the room where a now empty ring used to hold one of Nagash’s greatest treasures. “Well then...” said Jac-Jaculus as they entered the room. “Did they-they take everything?” “No-no, not quite,” out of his robes Slyfe pulled out a thick bag laced with Warpstone, he opened the clasp and pulled out the prized Circlet of Iron. “I-I let the man-things take whatever they wanted, then-then while they were distracted I took-snatched the Prize.” “Where are-are they now?” “Kill-dead.” “Good. I will go-leave now to see that the second part of the plan is-is fulfilled, be sure to put on a-a good show for your man-thing friends.” “Will do.” The flame in his eye danced and sizzled as the Warlord made his way off to the shadows. *** Lord Grimesh slowly made his way across the desert sand to a small tent that was set up just outside one of the many burial tombs that seemed to litter the landscape. He stopped once inside and took a moment to revel in the shade; truly if it weren’t for the importance of it all he would of never left his home under Mount Ekrund. Only then did he acknowledge the two other inhabitants of the tent, a man and a woman. To the man he slightly lowered his snout but he kept level eyes to the woman. “Good to see you made the trip Old One.” The voice was that of Eli Tel-Resha, the High General and Grimesh’s superior. Well, one of them anyways. The woman stepped forward next and though Lord Grimesh recognized her as Lady Celesta he seemed…different. It was just so still, almost like the look that Warlord Jac-Jaculus held. “It-it would take more than a simple journey over top of the sands to stop-halt me, though you-you would know that,” he said with a smirk. “Now-now then what is it you wish to discuss High General?” “As you could tell from the little display given by our unfortunate ex-tribe leader Zandric El-Ibis there is some unrest in the lands of Nehekhara.” “Even a-a blind rat would be able to tell that, Nagash’s hold has been slip-loose for a while now.” “Up until now though they have been largely unorganized, Nagash’s deathly grasp has been enough to hold them at bay while he continues to lead us all astray. If he is not taken down it will be the end of our glorious empire.” “So-so what do you propose Tel-Resha? We go and confront him ourselves? I-I am much too old for anything like that.” “No Skaven, we know that your kind never strikes in the open, or with honor. That is why we come to you now.” Eli opened up a dried parchment before the old rat and laid it out on a small table, inside was the battle plans for the next set of maneuvers. “We are under attack in our blessed city of Khemri, the infernal sub-species of Elves have been throwing all that they have left to try and take it from us. They will not succeed against the might of the Nehekharen guard, though even still I was able to convince Nagash to send your Phar Legion back to the capital to defend it.” Lord Grimesh smiles as he begun to see the plan unravel itself. “You-you do not truly wish us to defend your man-thing home do you? “ “I chose you for a reason Lord Grimesh and though many have questioned my reasoning hear me now and know the truth, you will lead the retaking of the capitol by its people, but not from above ground in the streets but from below.” “You-you wishes to garner some of our Skaven skills. You have been planning this from the go-start, which was why you-you had so many of us Desert Rats in your Legion in the first place yes?” “Yes. Lady Celesta here will make sure that everything goes well on the surface, though from a distance to keep up appearances and also to not raise suspicion.” “This is all good-good, though what is in it for the Desert Rats and Clan Husk?” For the first time in the entire conversation Lady Celesta and opened her mouth to speak to the Skaven, her words chilled him to the bone. “Vengeance.” *** On the other side of the continent in a sky-scraping tower that by all accounts had seen better days a door opened by hands of those who were truly deserving of power. The Skaven enter cautiously though with a sense of primal power in his stride. Once he was certain no one else was inside the chamber waiting in ambush he and twelve other Skaven entered the room. They inspected the place to try and find any sort of escape route that was bound to be hidden somewhere in the chamber. On the floor close to one of the walls laid the skeleton of a Skaven, it still had an elven arrow protruding from its rib cage, the Eshin of the group, Vittik walked over to inspect the corpse. “It-it appears that not all of the done-old council made it out alive. Wonder which it-it is?” said Vittik kicked it in the head. The skeleton responded by taking the arrow out of its own chest and stabbed it up in-between the Eshin’s legs, blood spurted everywhere as it viciously twisted it and ripped the improvised weapon out. As he fell the skeleton then drew its curved blade and swiftly decapitated the downed Skaven. The whole thing was over so quickly that when the others in the room looked back they saw nothing but two dead rats, then a flame erupted in the socket of the skeletal Skaven. He picked himself up and replaced the blade on the side of his hip. “The name is Warlord Jac-Jaculus,” Jac said to the fresh true corpse. “And I-I am undead, not kill-dead.” “Jaculus!” The one who spoke was Vaskit of Moulder, a close ally to the now deceased Eshin Deathmaster. “Warlord Jac-Jaculus. I see you-you all were going to have a gathering of sorts? Where was me-my invitation?” “This-this is for true Skaven, Abomination! You-you have your man-thing play-things now.” “True Skaven? I-I am more true Skaven than you, I killed I take,” Jac pointed down at Vittik. “He is dead-dead-thing now, I take his place on the new Council, unless one of-of you wishes to challenge?” None moved. “Good-good. You don’t need his death tactics anyway, I-I have my own death-masters.” The twelfth member of the Council of Thirteen stepped to join the rest of them, “We-we will have our own problems soon enough with truly kill-killing the old Council, though I do have one request of you all, one-one that will expand the Skaven’s power beyond it’s already big-large boundaries.” The Warlord pulled out a small parchment from within his robes and laid it out for them to see, on it was the schematics for a sword of unfathomable construction, even though it was just a drawing the runes shown on it hurt the eyes to bear it. “This-this will forge our new rule. You-you will have your Hour of the Rat.” *** Twenty-Six times the sun blazed a path across the desert sky and twenty-six days of constant battle at the gates of Khemri took its toll on the parched landscape. The sand of the surrounding dunes would be stained red for generations to come. Lord Grimesh stood in a shadowed alleyway hidden from the view of any other general, though even in the dark the somber look on his face couldn’t be hidden. Skaven weren’t meant to feel anything for others, after all life is cheap though he would have been lying to himself if he didn’t feel the loss of his best Captain on his already bowed shoulders. With luck though Meriones would survive and destroy the Elf-things crashing at their walls. A shadow beside him flicked and Slyfe appeared beside the aged Lord, not long after a third Skaven showed up, this one boldly fighting his way through whatever Elven stood in his way, making sure none were around to bear witness. “It-it is done,” said Lord Grimesh. “I-I have the Prize,” replied Slyfe. “And-and the package is delivered,” announced Jac-Jaculus. He looked around at the other two leaders; together the three of them had accomplished what no other Skaven dared to even dream and now came the final step. “We Shall Inherit!” An explosion went detonated and they were off. Lord Grimesh was the first to unleash his part of the plan, he moved to the front of the line where the last of the Elves were being cleaned out of the center of the town, once the final head fell the Lord Under the Mountain raised both his hands high into the air and let out a signal so high that no human ear could of ever heard it. In an instant every Skaven in the area turned and slashed down whatever humans were standing next to them, the bloody call of their own was enough to alert a second group of humans to the scene, those as the ambushed humans ran to their saviors their saviors revealed their hidden three-pronged glyphs and continued with the massacre. Nearly all of Nagash’s forces were defeated before he even realized what was happening. A roar came from one side of the square as Nagash himself stepped out into the scene. Following behind was a host of the most horrific monsters any of them had ever scene, an uncountable number of undead skeletons. Nagash smiled and when he did he literally looked like Death Incarnate. The Skaven fighting would of fled under any other circumstance though the Musk of Victory was already heavy in the air and the boastfulness of the rats was indomitable. As for the rebellious men there honor and the need of their people was enough to keep them going. “Vermin! You though that I, High King Nagash, Lord Lich of Nehekhara would not suspect treachery from you!? You have fallen for my plan and now I will destroy all of you and your little rebellion, taking your bodies into my own army of Death!” “Not-not without this!” The voice came from a shadow high above the undead army, Slyfe along with a dozen of his secret police dropped down into the middle of the undead horde, he held the Circlet of Iron high in the air for all to see, the rebellious humans cheered as they saw a true symbol of their gods giving them their blessings. With a toothy grin that split his face Slyfe placed the Circlet on the crown of his head, as hid did a blast of energy sent all undead skeletons around him flying off as they disintegrated in mid-air. Together the small group of Skaven tore out the hart of the undead horde as the combined might of Skaven and living humans pushed in from the front. They battled like mad as the pile of truly dead bodies littered the ground around them, the fight beyond their wall all but forgotten at this point, the Elves were a nascence but true men were a true fight against the forces of Nagash. Even still the Lich Lord made deadly headway against the combined forces, it seemed like no warrior no matter how strong could take down the High King of Nehekhara, none except for Jac-Jaculus’ warrior that was. “It-it is time my puppet.” The Warlord stood off to the side overlooking the epic battle below, off to his side stood one who was once a man of Nehekhara, though now was little more than a tool of the Desert Rats. The frothing monstrosity was all but a beast of Chaos now, his hair across his body grew to cover him completely as his elongated face sprouted sharp fangs, the worst mutation was his hands though, or lack thereof. His arms ended in fleshy extensions that completely enveloped the hilt of the blade he was wielding. The blade itself was the cause for his horrid state, for it was none other than the Fellblade; forged out of the purest gems and precious metals and laced with deadly Warpstone, the blade was inscribed with ruins of such deadly power that it was the fate of all who held touched it to be destroyed by its power; wielder and victim alike. With a primal grunt the warrior jumped down and charged into the back of the combat. It didn’t matter who was standing in front of him as human skaven and undead all fell to the Juggernaut. Though it wasn’t so much they fell but were utterly destroyed by the Fell blade’s warping power; it didn’t slice them down but moved seamlessly through the body of it’s victims, in the wake of the cutting edge blasphemous mutations erupted from within their bodies as they literally exploded under the vast disorienting energies ravaging their bodies and souls. The warrior too was being ravaged by the sickening killings he brought on; toxic pustules erupted over all over his body while new muscles, organs and half-life forms ebbed and flowed across him. His eyes were practically discharging from his skull as he strove with all his might towards the highest source of magic in the battle: Nagash. The High King noticed the ravaged warrior make his way towards him and the insane power he held, though far off behind him he could feel the Circlet as the treacherous Skaven used it to steal away his power to tear apart his own army. “I cannot be defeated! I am the High King! I am the Lich Lord of Nehekhara! I am Nagash!” He shot bolt after bolt of damning magic at the oncoming warrior though they either ricochet off to hit some other unfortunate soul or it was absorbed into the Fellblade itself, finally their was none standing in-between the Puppet and the King and it seemed like at that instant the whole world had stopped turning; all around men and skaven stood and watched the pair, the undead skeleton horde awaited the next command from their master. The warrior took a step forward but stopped himself; he lowered his head and stumbled slightly as he seemed to be fighting an internal struggle with himself. Do it. Jac-Jaculus said to his mind, the warrior screamed and shook. Do it!! With that his mind snapped for good as the Master took over; the man-beast charged forward. “NO!” With a howl that only the Gods could of made out Nagash let out a devastating blast of pure magical energy, the explosion of power slammed right into the warrior and continued outward into the three gathered armies. It hit with all the strength of the desert sun as all were incinerated, first turned to sand then to agonizing glass statues as the inferno moved over them. When the floating glass pellets that was dust settled Nagash couldn’t help but collapse and kneel on one knee; his power seemingly spent. Three shadows moved over him as Nagash looked up. Before him stood the Assassin Slyfe, Lord Grimesh of the Phar Legion and Warlord Jac-Jaculus, Master of Clan Husk and Leader of the Desert Rats of Nehekhara. “You-your time is done Nagash.” From behind the three of them came the Fellblade, for he was no longer a man or beast but simply a vessel for the Weapon; the energies absorbed from the last blast all but stripped the abomination from everything that made it a thinking living entity. The Fellblade rose and came down but at the last moment before the full power of the Skaven came down upon him Nagash raised his hand… |
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| Mebob | 29th April 2007 - 01:07 PM Post #2 |
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Pants are for the weak!
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Awsome piece of writing there, if only Gamesworkshop could match that with their campaigns and stories. |
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For proffesionaly made corsets visit: Elegantly bound Classic looks for the modern woman (click the name!) ![]() Clan Notch ![]() Rukarthan 23rd and Order of Sanctuary (Imperial gaurd and Sister of Battle) My Devaint Art account | |
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