Firestorm - The Hrukvorn Lodge VIII - Old Grudges

The Plain of Sigils, Hysh

Grisnakh Toofpulla idly tugged at the chains tethering him to his monstrous mount’s thickly-plated hide. The great, green maw-krusha snorted in irritation, eliciting a scowl from Toofpulla. The orruk pulled hard on the chain this time, about facing the brutish creature so that he could see the army arrayed behind him. Before him stood the strongest of the Toofpullas, the brutality of the orruk tempered in the fires of the Flamescar Plateau and all the horrors and foes it was home to. Before him stood a mighty Waaagh! indeed. But he knew that I would not be enough for what they were about to face.

He turned to his left where the Runefather and his kin were arrayed – rank upon rank of duardin ready and eager to wet the blades of their axes with the blood of man and daemon alike. Toofpulla grimaced as the Runefather approached, astride a mount the colour of volcanic glass and blue magma.

‘Your brutes grow restless,’ called Folkvar-Grimnir to Toofpulla. ‘Shall we begin?’

Grisnakh gave a throaty chuckle.

‘You’re as bloodfirsty as da boys said you wos…’ rumbled the gargantuan orruk in approval.

‘I am not a warmonger,’ growled the Runefather. ‘I am an exterminator of vermin.’

‘So I’ve ‘eard,’ replied Toofpulla nonchalantly. ‘’appy wif da plan?’

‘For what it is, aye. You can have the lunatic open the gate. We’ll be ready.’

‘OPEN DA GATE!’ roared Grisnakh as Folkvar-Grimnir returned to his position.

At the rear of the orruk and duardin hosts was a great pillar inscribed with many arcane symbols, atop which stood a cave shaman of the moonclan grots. He cackled wildly as he began weaving patterns in the air with his fungus-ridden staff. Green energies crackled about him and the runes carved into the pillar upon which he stood began to glow. A great, white beam suddenly erupted from the pillar and shot off in the direction the army was facing. As though the very fabric of reality parted before them, a massive, glowing rent appeared in front of the joint orruk and duardin warhost and they found themselves suddenly gazing out upon the Flamescar Plateau in Aqshy.

Beyond the writhing heat haze that cloaked the Realm of Fire was arrayed a great army of capering daemons, towering human warriors encased in baroque armour, and an immense legion of skeletons. Amid the unholy host stood the three-headed vulture daemon, Karnack the Manipulator.

‘DIS IS AN ORRUK REALMGATE, NOW!’ bellowed Grisnakh standing proudly atop his mount for all to see, arms spread wide daring his foes to challenge him.

Cheers and bellows of approval erupted from the throats of the legion of orruks, along with chants of ‘Grisnakh! Grisnakh!’

‘You stand there like a brat in an orrery,’ spat Karnack, his voice projected unnaturally across the realm-straddling battlefield. ‘You understand nothing of what you have, wanton destroyer. You and your grasping, little allies will be a footnote in my story!’

Blue fire whirled about the greater daemon’s unnatural form as the gibbering of the daemonic cohort reached a fever pitch. An ear-splitting screech akin to two steel plates grating against one another filled the battlefield as a hideously mutated dragon emerged from the smoke and haze above the Changehost and hurtled towards the orruks with alarming speed. Daemoniac howls erupted across the field as sorcerous fire rained down upon the allied forces of Destruction and Chaos. The Runefather had not only brought the duardin of his lodge to the battle; a great force of Longbeards and Liberators had been sent for from Ashenhold to bolster Folkvar-Grimnir’s forces. It was they and great Grisnakh that felt the full force of the Tzeentchian firestorm.

A howling gale of otherworldly flame tore through the ranks of the Longbeards, felling many of their number and causing more still of their number to flee before the onslaught. Grisnakh stood fast but howled in agony and impotent rage as blue fire washed over him and his mount. A cabal of undead wizards subjected the modest band of Stormcast Eternals to a deluge of spectral horrors, and lightning wracked the sky where they were snatched away by the god-king.

‘There is only change!’ keened Karnack’s three heads as the sorcerous fire calmed. ‘Nothing stands before its relentless advance…’

‘DUFF UP DA BIG FING!’ roared Grisnakh as he thrust his weapon into the air to roars of approval.

The orruks surged forward as the warpfire dragon overhead crashed into their lines. A battalion of Tzaangors ran screaming and howling at the Longbeards, whirling their arcane blades about them with wild abandon. As if from thin air, a squad of orruks riding massive boars rushed at the rear ranks of the chaos warriors but were set upon by two hideous chimera and the daemon prince that led them.

Folkvar's Vulkites charged the skeletal horde, hurling their bladed slingshields into the massed ranks of undead and sending shards of bone scattering in all directions, whilst Runesmiters Alsvir and Hakon had their auric hearthguard unleash a deluge of magma over the heads of the Longbeards to rain down upon the assailing Tzaangors. The two magmadroths lent their own power to the volley, leaving only a few of the screaming beastmen flailing hopelessly about the field as they were burned alive.

The living idol the orruks had brought with them crashed into the ranks of the chaos warriors, sending broken bodies flying in all directions as the stone limbs of the construct swung to and fro with wreckless abandon. Grisnakh's brutes hacked at the warpfire dragon as it grasped Facesmasha - Grisnakh's lieutenant - between its mutant jaws and shook the mighty orruk in its jaws like a hound would a rabbit before sending his body hurtling across the plain. The warpfire dragon howled in agony, but fought on savagely until it was brought low by a well placed cannon shot from Lord-Ordinator Titus Ironbrow's crew.

Just when it looked as though the joint push from the Fyreslayers and the Ironjawz was gaining traction, Karnack and his disciples began to ready another sorcerous onslaught. Grisnakh's beady eyes gleamed as he fixed his gaze upon Karnack. The megaboss tightened his grip upon his crudely fashioned weapon and yanked upon Ironklaw's chain. The beast braced itself to charge when a white-blue bolt of flame caught Grisnakh full in the face. His followers looked on in horror as their leader's skin began to bubble and metal until he sloughed out of his armour and off of the back of his beast in a gruesome soup.

Folkvar-Grimnir, sensing the orruk's tenuous bravery falter, turned to address the horde.

'Never mind that, you snotling fondlers!' he roared. 'You lot still owe us - and we're thagging-well getting out of here alive so you can pay me!'

With a roar of approval and courage renewed, the orruks set to hacking away at the enemy with renewed zeal as Folkvar-Grimnir kicked his heels into Brim's flanks.

'With me, Zangrom,' growled the Runefather to the grimwrath berzerker at his side. 'Time to send this shitbird back to hell...'

Folkvar-Grimnir pointed at Karnack with the blade of his axe as he rushed forward. The daemon sent an arcane firestorm rushing towards the Runefather. Folkvar quickly looked to the Aqshian skies. There amidst the gloom was the falling star Ironbrow had been tracking.

'"The guardian's truth is his light,"' whispered the Runefather to himself, quoting the Lord-Ordinator.

Karnack's firestorm washed over Folkvar. He felt his heart thunder in his chest as all the memories of pain and defeat rushed back to him. He held his breath as he entered the pillar of flame...

And emerged from the other side unscathed.

Karnack's six eyes visibly widened in shock. He screeched a command and a gaggle of flamers rushed forward to protect the great daemon. The zangrom cackled as he rushed headlong at Karnack's archers, whirling his red axe overhead like a lunatic. Brim bellowed with rage as he raked into the daemons with obsidian claws, Folkvar bisecting the creatures with sweeping blows from his black axe. The furious onslaught continued until all of the flamers had vanished, leaving nothing between the daemon and the duardin but smears of blue ichor.

'I can offer you more, Hrokisson,' hissed Karnack.

'This was never about gold, vermin,' growled the Runefather.

With a bestial screech joined by Folkvar's berzerker roar, Brim leapt upon Karnack and pinned him to the ground, goring him with his horns. The daemon used his staff and sword to protect himself, until Folkvar caught the blade in the teeth of his axe, twisted it free of the creature's grip and hurled it aside. Karnack raised his staff to block again, but this time Folkvar unleashed a flurry of quick, overhead strikes with his axe until Karnack was staggered, guard broken.

Folkvar stood in the saddle and - using one hand to balance himself - swung his axe with one hand in a devastating strike to the side of Karnack's left head, opening a horrific wound in the side of the daemon's skull. The head's jaws went slack and its eyes rolled in their sockets. Folkvar then brought the axe down two-handed on the return strike upon Karnack's right head, cleaving it down the centre. Only the centre head remained.

The daemon slumped on the ground before Folkvar, drenched in blood and ichor.

'You will never be free of me...' hissed the remaining head.

Before Folkvar could land a blow on the daemon's last remaining head, Karnack looked to the sky with hands and wings spread. He let loose an avian scream as blue fire consumed his body and he shrunk in size until he was completely imperceptible, banished once more from the mortal realms.