Firestorm - The Hrukvorn Lodge I - Confrontation in the Caverns

Folkvar-Grimnir stroked his beard thoughtfully as Lord-Veritant Lucius Brightblade unfurled a map of the Flamescar Plateau on the table before them.

'Our enemies seek to restore the Prismatikon of the Agloraxi,' explained Lucius as he weighed down the curled edges of the maps with the various cups and utensils already sat on the table. 'A weapon such as that would grant its wielder devastating power. It would allow them to destroy empires - or hold them to ransom.'

'Get to the point, manling,' sighed Folkvar. 'I haven't been home in a long time.'

Lucius glanced up at Folkvar, his lips pursed. He was a pale man with gaunt, pointed features and cold grey eyes that lent him a wolfish appearance. His brown hair grew into a high widow's peak that lent him an almost vampiric appearance, but was shorn short as befitted his military bearing.

'My informants tell me that in order to restore the Prismatikon, we should look to three locations,' continued Lucius as he lifted a handful of coins, selecting three from the handful as he leaned over the map.

'The Caverns of Fulminax,' he said as he laid the first of the three coins on a north-western portion of the map covered in mountains. 'The caverns house the eponymous elemental, long ago shackled by the Agloraxi. His magicks are required to power the engine of the doomsday weapon.

'The Eyes of the Prismatikon contain a network of crystal lenses that when aligned can focus the energies of Aqshy into a single destructive beam.

'And finally, The Infinity Gears,' said Lucius as he gently placed the last gold piece down on a portion of the map close to a small stone carving that closely resembled an orruk that had been carved in a decidedly duardin style. 'These can be used to govern the Eternia Realmway, and would allow our enemies to direct the power of the Prismatikon across the realms.'

'Which we cannot allow to happen,' interjected Folkvar flatly.

'I'm glad we agree,' replied Lucius, giving a gentle nod of his head in acknowledgement.

'We'll garrison the Caverns of Fulminax,' said Folkvar as he leaned over the map, tapping a finger next to the gold piece Lucius had set down. 'We're close as it is, my duardin are capable fighters underground, and we can eventually fortify the area. If we cut off the power source, they have no weapon.'

Lucius folded his arms across his chest. 'I see no fault with that plan.'

Folkvar eyed the Lord-Veritant suspiciously, then nodded.

'Prepare to march,' said the Runefather to one of the masked Runesmiters stood silently at the perimeter of the tent.

'I thank you for your co-operation,' said Lucius as the Runesmiter left the tent to see to his orders.

'Sanction of the god-king or not, manling, do not delude yourself,' said Folkvar. 'You are an ally. You are an ambassador of Sigmar within this army and you will be respected accordingly - I will see to that. But this is my army, and those are my people. They follow my orders.'

'I understand,' said Lucius as he unhooked his helmet from his belt. 'And you shall have my full support.'

*

The Hrukvorn lodge trudged through the depths of the Broken Claw Mountains, with Folkvar-Grimnir astride his faithful magmadroth at the head of the column. To Folkvar's left strode Lucius Brightblade, and to his right marched Hakon Earthstrider, humming a duardin war hymn to himself. Lucius fumbled awkwardly with the clasps of his helm as he hastily removed it and dabbed the sweat cascading down his face with his cloak.

'You alright in there, manling,' asked Folkvar as he barely suppressed a smirk.

'We are not all as resilient to the heat in places such as these, I'm afraid,' replied the Lord-Veritant.

The reddish hues emanating from deeper within the caverns grew in intensity as they approached the end of the tunnel. The deep, guttural grinding of the turning of the earth grew louder and more frequent as they drew closer to their destination, and the army quickened their pace as the duardin realised that the end of their march was in sight.

The tunnel eventually opened into a colossal cavern, the ceiling of which was impossible to see owning to the smoke and steam condensing above them. Pools and rivers of magma filled the vast space, and in the middle of it all - sitting in the largest magma pool of all - was a cyclopean and vaguely humanoid creature that looked as though it was fashioned of earth and rock. Immense chains had shackled it in place, and great billows of smoke rose from what appeared to be its face.

'Still shackled after all this time...' remarked Hakon. 'I imagine that has worked wonders for his temperament.'

'We're not here to make friends with him!' spat Folkvar. 'We'll recon the rest of the tunnels, secure the area, and then we can begin fortifying. We can send to Hammerhal for miners and craftsmen to help with the building, and for soldiers to garrison if needs be.'

'There may be a slight delay with that particular course of actions,' said Lucius as he squinted through the smoke and steam to look at the other side of the cavern.

Folkvar leaned forward in his saddle and watched as a hulking orruk clad in scab-coloured plate emerged from the smoke.

'Kruk!' cursed the Runefather.

'Fyreslayers! To arms!' bellowed Hakon as he thrust his war iron into the air and began the incantations and prayers for channelling the power of the ur-gold runes.

'Once we've dealt with these beasts, Brightblade, get word to Hammerhal,' said Folkvar as he tightened his grip on his grandaxe.

Lucius gave a curt nod before drawing his runeblade. He stepped back to allow Folkvar's berserkers to take their formation at the front.

'Orruks again, eh?' said Hakon to Folkvar as his auric hearthguard formed up around him.

'What was wrong with calling them 'orcs'?' sighed Folkvar.

With bestial howls and shrieks the orruks rushed forward with a speed that belied their massive frames. Boar riders hurtled into the Hrukvorn shieldwall, but the duardin held fast. A horde of savage brutes clad in heavy armour suddenly rushed into the fyreslayer flank, waving and swinging crude blades as they charged headlong at Folkvar and Brim.

'Duff up da big fing!' bellowed the largest of the orruks as they set upon the Runefather.

Brim bucked and roared as the teeth of the barbarous blades clattered against his thick, black scales. Though many of the flurry of blows the orruk shock troops hurled at the beast pranged off of the magmadroth's natural armour, many still found the softer flesh of the beast's underbelly. He howled as the metal bit through flesh and magmic blood sluiced out of the cuts and down the blades of his assailants, burning armour and flesh alike. 

Answering the savage attack with a bestial roar of his own, Folkvar leapt to his feet swinging into the orruks with powerful, ponderous blows, bisecting two of them as he did so. Some of the Torchbearers - Folkvar's own hearthguard - had reformed and plunged into the flank of the brutes, swinging their flamestrike poleaxes at the orruk attack force with wild abandon.

The rest of the orruks rushed forward - the megaboss at the fore - and hurtled into the duardin battleline, hacking furiously with scimitar and axe. From the rear, the auric hearthguard rained bolts of magma from their pikes, the flaming missles streaking through the air in spectacular arcs, down onto their hateful enemy. It was not long before several of the duardin lay dead and wounded, but several more of the orruks were sent howling in agony from the duardin battleline, arms flailing wildly as they cooked inside their brutish armour.

The megaboss lashed out at the fyreslayers in a whirlwind of vicious steel, hurtling several of the much smaller duardin backward into their brothers. But as Hakon struck another of he sacred runes, the hearthguard were sent into a berserk battle trance and the megaboss - surrounded by a dozen or so blazing devotees of Grimnir - fell beneath a storm of flaming braziers and fyresteel.

Folkvar hacked the head from another of the brutes with another great swing of his grandaxes, smashing the face of another with backswing. The rest of the ambushers were now fleeing in terror as they watched their brethren cook in their own armour by Brim, or cleaven in twain by Folkvar's black axe.

'None of them leave the cavern!' roared Folkvar. 'Kill 'em all!'

Having dealt with the vanguard of the orruk expedition, the fyreslayers rushed forward to slaughter the retreating orruks. But no sooner had the first vulkites reached the orruks than an earth-shattering bellow reverberated throughout the cavern.

Folkvar whirled about to look at the pool of magma in the centre of the cavern only to see Fulminax stand to his full height. His eyes blazed with rage and he strained at his chains, causing stalactites and rocks to tumble to the cavern floor. The elemental let loose another roar and the air in the cavern grew hotter still, the magma brimming and bubbling dangerously high from the pools and channels it previously ran through.

'Fall back!' cried Folkvar. 'Thagging typical!'

He fumed as he watched the orruks disappear through on of the tunnels at the other side of the cavern, dragging the massive body of their burned and wounded leader behind them.