Skip to main content

The Call to War

The rain had ceased it downpour for the moment, scattered around Arthyr and his warband were the remains of a dozen squigs and at least as many Grots. Arthyr looked around to get an idea of the damage sustained to his brave Aelves; most were injured and a couple were lying with their life blood mingling in the mud and grime. He had felt their spirits pass from this mortal realm and said a quiet prayer to Kurnous.

Before he could finish his prayer and contemplate their losses, the sound of angelic wings broke through the sound of distant thunder. Uhtred landed heavily splashing mud across Arthyr's soaked cloak. The two old friends, soaked and tired, embraced each others hands in the warriors grip and nodded a welcome.

"Arthyr, war approaches. The Flamescar Plateau is being invaded by the forces of Chaos, Death and Destruction. We cannot let the treasures and knowledge of the ancient Agloraxi fall into their hands. Our scryers at Spiteshade have also seen us battling together again, hunting and slaying the minions of Chaos."

The message delivered by Uhtred to Arthyr was not easy for him to hear. His friend and ally needed his help, but he had yet to reach the Tower of the Eternal Wood. He knew that if he were to abandon his quest now the Tower would likely be overrun by greenskin.

"I must take a moment to meditate on this news old friend." Arthyr replied.

Arthyr stalked across the clearing and sat cross legged under the closest tree, closed his eyes and focused on the magical vortex under Spiteshade. There his mind met with his chief spellsinger - Mandia Nightlock. There she confirmed the news and the importance of leaving his quest and mustering his forces to leave for the realm of fire.

"Uhtred Greenwing, we leave to hunt!" Arthyr called as he rose.

The rain started again, shrouding the Sentinels of Spiteshade as they vanished into a swirling mist, leaving the Tower of the Eternal Wood to the greenskins for now...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Airship down

Chapter 5


The forest canopy sped by under the hull of his faithful Ironclad 'Grim Lady'. Vaughm Stormmantle looked through his periscope, there in the distance he could see the monstrous tree surging through the canopy and then disappearing into the cloud cover. He must reach his cousin Beldak, there was danger coming... An Oruk warlord, violent and savage was making his way through the forest.


Suddenly Vaughm was shaken from his thoughts as a green explosion burst from the side of the 'Grim Lady'. He looked down to the forest, more green flaming balls were hurtling towards his ship.
"All hands on deck! Prepare to engage!" Shouted Vaughm as his Ironclad started to lose altitude.


Gonza the Mad cackled hysterically as he hurled arcane ball after ball at the stunty airship. His trusty guards Baz and Bol were grinning from the top of their squig mounts, the flicker of blood lust in their eyes. The plan had worked, and down fell the stunties, right into the squig …

Hunting the Dead

Aranion's body hit the ground hard, rolling across the hard packed ground, a small cloud of dust erupting where he landed. Standing above him was Lord Barrowmire, seated upon his fearsome zombie dragon. The dragon was covered in white fletched arrows, it had thrown Aranion into the air without effort, while the Wanderers poured a storm of arrows into the monster.

The Mithrin brothers, Seral and Kiro had watched in disbelief as Aranion had charged across the dusty terrain in an attemplt to slay Barrowmire resulting in him getting thrown around like a rag doll. Before Barrowmire's dragon could feed upon Aranion, they both took aim and sent a flurry of magically blessed arrows into both Barrowmire and his accursed dragon. The dragon shuddered and collapsed, while Barrowmire himself vanished in a cloud a black and red mist.

Across the battle field Ceryn had led his brave glade guard through the hidden paths to attack the undead army's flank. They were hunting two monstrous un…

Blood & Fog

The fog was thick and Mandia choked on the thick scent of blood and fear. All around her she could hear her friends screaming in rage as they attacked. The rain beat down through the fog creating a mire of blood, mud and broken bodies.Her head was pounding, why were they attacking and being attacked by Stormcast? She tried to clear her head, all around her she could see Aelves injured and bleeding. 
Arthyr swung his blade at the apparition in front of him, normally the Modryn blade felt weightless in his hands, but today it felt like he was swinging a tree. The apparition in front of him had put down too many of his Aelves and he had to avenge them. He felt as if he’d been fighting in this fog and rain for days, but could it have been that long? Surely not…
From atop the ruins Lord Slazenger looked down and across the littered battlefield. The fog was still thick and the rain was not easing, whoever they fought were quick and shifted with the shadows. Frustrated he led his mount forward…