The restart of the warhammer rpg.
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Can we start?

Yea sure, Im busy with my first post.

Gorbaroth sat by the fire in the middle of his camp....as far as you can call it a camp... it has a 4 ft high wall of stones, wood and sticks, and some skulls. there is only one tent, which is only some standing sticks some hides spun inbetween. this is the tent of Gorbaroth.
some gors were fughting each other and ungors were trying to get some food. suddenly, Gorbaroth shouted: 'I WANT WAR!!' everyone was quiet. some scouts came forward and said: 'there's a war going on quite near. An Empire city is being attacked by several armies, and we have heard something about allies of the empire coming this way.'
'well...what are we waitning for? MARCH!!'

Putting his feet on the dead body of the flaggelant, Ulric pulled out the sword of its body. Cleaning the sword of the blood, he stepped forward, looking towards the city. As the men behind him, his chosen, jumped of the longship by wich they arrived, he looked towards the city, and the garrison manning the walls. Smiling, he said to himself, 'Kill for Khorne.'

A could wind whipped around the feet of those who stood near the great chaos lord. His stature was upright, but his left foot was resting on the skull of a long dead animal, perhaps a horse, it creaked a little with his sheer weight. The four were the closest to him after the nine, they were the only ones allowed close. But know, there was anouther in thier midst, Korban could only discern him with the greatest concentration, he was standing next to the warleader, a slight individual bedecked in furs with a powerful looking spear resting on his shoulder. the warleader seemed to have his head listed towards the figure slightly, as if listening to what he said. But then when Korban blinked he could see no individual, and the warleaders head tilt looked perfectly natural. What was not natural was the city before them, and it riled Korbans thoughts just looking at the ugly edifice of stonework. The warleader was clearly considering his options.

The skull gave way under the warleaders booted foot and shattered. The warleader looked down with an air of dissapointment. He looked up at the walls and then raised an arm. Suddenly the chill was gone from Korban's senses this was what the host had been looking for. He shared a glance with the rest of the four before raising his hand and yelling a terrible warcry. Around him whoops and calls could be heard from the marauder horsemen as they spurred thier mounts into a frenzy before releasing them forwards. The horses were frothing at the moth with wild eyes and horrible screaming coming from them as the sharp spurs dug at them and they galloped forwards. The villagers in the valley below shrieked in terror as the host came rushing down to them. The marauders would stay well away from the walls. No need to loose pointless casualties. The armoured host behind him began its implacable march forwards. They were still a solid half day from the city. When nightfall rose, they would set camp. And begin to make weapons of siege and war.

--

Tyranic turned his head from side to side, his vision encompassing the ste before him. Anouther chaos army had landed some distance to the north, that was fine. He would parley with them later. For the moment the sword in his hand screamed for the blood of the innocent. His host would have to do the killing however, he had plans to set. He glanced at Lizurk by his side and the slight man understood his warleader.
"They will pillage in your name and your name only warleader, do not worry about the rabble, they know thier place. I will have Nagash cast the runes later, we will see what the chaos gods desire in the way of the sacrifice of these petty beings. In the meantime, what does your great mind suggest we do about our kin to the north? They would make valuable allies... Or perhaps sacrifices?"

Tyranic made a tiny gesture with his left hand and Nagash nodded sagely, "Of course my lord."

quietly the Cloven reached the battle field. they were still hiding and covered by the forest-plants. they didnt even need to be quiet, because of all the noises of war all around them. then Gorbaroth roared and every beastmen came out of the forest and started attacking every moving thing.
they didnt keep line and just ran straight for their prey.
Gorbaroth smashed the heads of some Imperial state troops with his great-axe and it rained blood all around him.
Gorbaroth had much experience in fighting and he was proud to show it.
suddenly an arrow flew past him, only one inch away from him. he roared. " im sorry!' shouted an ungor ranger! Gorbaroth roared again and started fighting and smashing heads again.

Kordan saw a great host of beastmen break onto the field and start to decimate the imperial peasants, uncannily the marauders had already retreated from that spot. Korban felt a chill and looked back over his shoulder to see The warleader and his guards marching near, one of the warleaders great malied fists in the air slowly circling. Korban turned back tot eh marauders to see them creating a great moving, swirling circle with spears pointed inwards, anything that charged that would die. Tyranic halted the other companies and moved into the centre of the field and drew his sword, and icy shill swept out from him halting the nearest ungors. Then a terrible low pitched voice came forth, Korban shuddered with suppressed terror. THere was nothing in the kingdoms that could instil sheer spine chilling, gut clenching terror, As that mans voice. Even Korban, the Khornate champion of the four, wanted to turn and flee. He could see some of the chaos warriors wavering, but they were well trained to withstand the power and utter implacable terror of the warleader's voice.

"Beastmen, where is your chieftan? This day chaos would ally with you."

The speech was short but its effects were far reaching, Korban heard one of the ungors mew in terror, one of the others began to back away and the others looked terrified. This was why the warleader hardly ever spoke. Because if he did his own hosts would be too terrified to fight.

--

Tyranic looked down on the ungors. He saw power in them, yes, the power of chaos, but it was as nothing to the terror that he knew his voice could instill. Even creatures who by rights should have no fear, mad things that have no reason, were cowed by the power of his voice. Tyranic privatley believed that no mortal could have such power, and it was his patrons speaking through him that had such malice in thier tone. Whatever it was he thanked his gods for the boon of not only the voice and the terror it could instil, but the patience and discipline not to use it for the smallest of tasks. To save it only for opportune moments, that its effects would be at thier most powerful. He tilted his helm slightly and tracked his eyes across his bodyguards, satisfied with thier discipline in the fae of his voice he turned back to the beastmen host.
"Answer me!"

"Ah, yet another. You warlords multiply like rats."
Says the Hydra in his rasping voice, as he and his closest bodyguards aproach the scene. A nearby ungor, wondering too close, suddenly falls to the ground, its skin turning green and boils spreading rapidly around its warped form. The Hydra chuckles,
"Well that was fun, but there are matters we must disguss . So, warlord, what is your buisness here."

"My lord! The scouts report the attack on the village has already began!" says the Lieutenant of the High Elf battalion. "Very well, have they yet breached the gate?" says Tyco Ventanus. "No my lord, they are slaughterind peasants trapped outside the walls." says his subordinate. "Send the battalion forward, my guard will be behind them. If they are attacked you know the procedure." "Yes sir, I do."

The High Elves move towards the rear city gate and a group of chaos marauders attacks them. A voley of arrows ravegs the front group and the High Elves form a phalanx and impales the remaining men during their charge.

((Ill be reviving the old warboss character, and the NPC clans that follow him, Ps- We need to hit a major city next, say, the fortified city of Nuln))

From the southern walls the unmistakable "Hrnnnk" of orcish war horns was heard. They however brought something terrable with them. In the distance numerous trails of smoke were seen. A relentless iron clanking could also be heard from the same direction. The orcs had ladders made of iron, with hooks to hold them onto the town's walls. As the tide of orcs closed it became evident that it would be impossible to keep them off of the walls.

'More Chaos warbands? Send the Chaos Knights to the south. Tell them that Lord Ulric the Chosen wants to speak with them. Both. As for the Beastmen, leave them. They might become handy.... and if not, we will just.. kill them.'

Gorbaroth stepped forward to Tyranic. 'I'm here. This is my host. you wish to speak with me?'
some gors got excited and made some weird noises.
'How do i know i can trust you?'

As the Chaos Knights rode forward to Tyranic and the beastman, they threw the severed heads they had gained the last hour towards them. 'Lord Ulric the Chosen, who has claimed the Armor of Dhorgan and the Chaos Runeshield from the Eternal Battle, claims an audience. If you do not serve him in that will, you will end like them.' he said, pointing towards the heads.

'What's this supp....' Gorbaroth stopped talking as he saw a huge man towering above him. 'well, the Gods must really hate this city...' he said quietly. 'well do what he asks us....'

"Who is this Ulric, and what does he want of us this day?" Croaks the Hydra as he steps foward, laughting slightly, causing a great bout of flies to appear. "And what makes you presume you can kill me, a blessed champion of Grandfather Nurgle?"

'The man that did this' the knight said to the Hydra, as he threw once more a head forward, this time one of a greater deamon of Nurgle.

'oooh! this is getting exciting! said a random ungor to Gorbaroth 'Shut your mouth!' whispered Gorbaroth angrily, while he killed the ungor with his dagger

The Hydra stands there for a long meoment, before saying in his croaking voice, "Hmm. Fine. I shall attend this meeting of yours. But cross me, and you shall live to regret it."

As he followed his Lord Ulric, Kurt Manbane planted his banner in the ground before him. Behind them stood the chosen and knights.As Ulric jumped of his daemonic mound, he said: ‘Now, on to the business at hand.’

Looking at the leaders around him, he noticed some silly acting beastmen. Those Ungor really weren’t worth living. He might kill them sooner or later. Well, not might. It was a fact he would kill them. But not know, there were more skulls to claim..

As the orcish hordes closed with the walls several warriors began to throw grappling lines up at the wall. The orcs used these grappling lines to scale the walls and get at the empire solders defending them. Ladders got closer and the orc wave showed no sign of slowing down for anything. The smoke belching monster in the distance also grew closer, the sounds of it became more evident and ominous its round head and large open jaw peeked into sight first, The monstrosity let out an enormous "RAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!" upon entering view.

Tyranic watches the exchange with his grim unwavering stare. His sword is slowly sheathed and his cold voice rattles out.
[i]"I welcome you brother of the blood god. I was going to let these beastmen live, they were... forgive me, are a valuable shock force. Their blood will still be spilled. Have paitence kinsman. As for you son of father Nurgle, your displays of petty sorcery do not phase me, and as much as they seem to amuse you. I invite you to contain yourself when it comes to my men, we are all sevrants of the four. And they will guide our hands in this battle to come. Look."

Tyranic gestured with one mighty hand at the surrounding battlefield and it was as if a cloud was removed from the vision of those watching. The way forwards was made clear.
"The gates and walls are strong, but the orcish horde that approaches those walls carries study ladders. We will let them spend themselves on the walls and then claim the ladders for our own."

--

Korban had seen the marauders charging forwards to attack the high elves and then saw them get mown down, he winced at the loss before realiseing that they were wheeling away as if nothing was wrong. He glanced to the hill to see the warleader gesturing at the surroundign lands, and beside him a hunchbacked man who was also gestureing, Nagash had clearly caused an illusion to protect the marauders to allow them to retreat. Korban grinned. The warlod had this battle in his hands, and Korban was sure that under the stark armour and heavy cape of the warleader was a mind and body that wantd nothing mroe than to tear the cit ybefore them apart. And so Korban was content with the slaughter to come. He knew he only had to wait.

"Petty sourcery? Are you aware of the ritual my sorcerers are conducting as we speak? If- When, it is complete, all foes alive here, man, dwarf, elf, will transform into subservient spawn. But for now I shall fight alongside you and your minions. And i'm sure you know not of the bulbious one?"

The little man next to Tyranic spoke directly to the sorceror. "You know much sorceror, but what you do know is as little compared to the wealth of knowlege that the Father shares with all his children. You are correct. If your ritual worked it would turn everyone into spawn. With a few notable exceptions. The metal beast of the orcs for instance. The problem is the sheer number of enemies here. No mortal has the power to turn this many other mortals into spawn. But even if you had the power, you have failed to take into account the power of the other four chaos gods. There are three different armies of chaos here. Nurgle, Khorne, And my masters own wandering undivided. This conclave of chaos is clearly powerful enough that if any two teamed up on the third then all woud be lost. Do not threaten to turn the warleader's men into spawn sorceror. It will not go well for any of us."

Syrath saw the two figures speaking, such beings could be useful allies, or pawns. Such titles where meaningless to the daemon, but it seemed best to keep on the 'good' side of the two beings. A tall Daemonic herald stood beside him, he turned and snarled a raspy scentance of words to Syrath who turned and smiled darkly;

"Keep your forces back, I will 'negotiate' with these servants of the dark gods."

Snarling an incomprehensible set of words the herald turned while Syrath spread his wings and landed before the Chaos Sorcerer and Champion, bowing his head and smiling;

"Good evening gentlemen, I am a fellow brother of Chaos seeking a pair of confident allies in my crusade of destruction."

Several orcs approached the bickering chaos worshipers the leader of the group yelled over the arguing leaders "We represent the great warlord Gobgut, Master of the Grand spider. He has learned that you bickering chaos warriors wanted a force to assist. Our warlord is willing to help, however he wishes a favor from you. Our next target is to be the fortified city of Nuln. The warlord wishes for control of the several of the forges there. He will then help in any way possible to fill the pact."

To the south of the walls the orc attack continued. The mechanical beast now was close enough to make out as a large spider of some kind. Empire solders were holding the orcs off suprisingly well for how impossably large the orc hordes seemed to be. The orcs were now more than effectively attracting the attention of the entire city with their drummers atop a hill pounding out a very agressive rythem.

Tyranic turns to the orc speaker and through his helm he sees a creature that knows the fear of his stare, The warleader turns away from the rabble and back to the other warleaders but a voice comes from a man who was previously unnoticed,
"Our master appreciates your request and will consider answering it. He has only one question. To whom will control of the city fall should you aid us? The wanderng host has no need of cities, but we would restock our caravans and repair our armour and weapons before leaving when the city falls."

Take what is needed from the remains, Our warlord will post someone to overesee the remains when we are done. A temple to your god will be built to represent what your help in taking the city

"If allowed, I will contribute my own forces to this assault, they are most willing to spill mortal blood and will happily set the city alight with magical fire and the streets flooded with blood, I only ask in return that we sacrafice the populace to the gods of Chaos in a ritual which will tear the bonds of reality and the realm of Chaos apart so that I may summn more of my Daemonic allies."

(Note, I not going to do this in the RP until the end, if we win.)

'Very well,' Ulric said, 'let me prepare my men.' He walked back to their landing spot in the north. Too bad for the others that they didn't know about the great cannons and Nuln batteries..

The leader of the group of orcs spoke "Than it is settled, we all finish this rat hole then march for Nuln. Our warlord will formalize the agreement after this seige is over."

The orcs attacking the southern wall were making great progress. The hordes now had a secure foothold to scale the wall and were pouring into the city. The large spider machine drew closer now solders could see better details. The beast had an enormous maw, with large burning logs in front of it in various places. Large glass jugs could be seen on the beasts back, like great big boils filled with several month old ale. From the beasts tail end crude smoke stacks were visible, belching out plumes of thick black smoke.

(Sounds familiar coughLOTRcough)

"Where there's a whip, there's a way!"

A chant of daemonic words began to develop, drummers and taskmasters pushing their forces forward. Pikes and blades held high in the sky while heavy drum beats followed the arrival of the hosts of Syrath, marching formations of Bloodletters and Plaguebearers. The chanting increased, the daemons efforts with it, rusted and brass shields where raised as a hail of arrows where fired from the castle, but the hosts advanced;

"An eight sided star, hanging over head!"

Greater and greater chants began to rise, praising the powers of Chaos. A Black banner rose from behind the main force, carrying it stood a Herald of Khorne. Bloodreaper, Champion of Khorne slammed the standard into the ground and drew his Hell-Axe and pointed towards the fortress and screamed a howling battle cry. Bloodreaper roared again and a group of Bloodletters mounted upon brazen beasts rode forward and begun to charge, pushing away allies as they head towards their quarry with their blood thirsty lord with them. The Chanting grew louder and louder as Horrors of Tzeentch joined the fray and unleashed waves of magical fire onto the fortresses walls while Syrath directed them from the air.

"Hang their heads from the standard, drink their blood and crack their bones! Leave none alive, let the city burn."

Tyranic Held his forces back, the daemons were quite capable of taking the majority of the city. And unless the cities defenders fought back, it would be unnecessary for his warriors to die on the walls. He may be a warleader of chaos, but his tactical and strategic mind was still very sound. INstead he had his marauders begin scouring the countryside, burning and pillaging in the name of chaos.

Syrath's assault force had already reached the Orcs and joined the assault on the walls, Juggernauts pounding the walls with their thick skulls while Bloodletters raised great brazsen ladders and climbed up the great white walls, thunderous chants of blood letting and hatred began. A volley of hooks shot up as the Khornate beasts begin to unleash their rage on the swordsman of the Empire along with the Orcs. A Daemonic dance began as the Plague Bearers chanted unholy things while they danced around the giant Warmachines, singing songs of unholy pox and the blights of contatigon. Syrath stood with his wings folded, a sly smirk along his face, that sneaky Chaos lord had fled into the country side. Such cowerdness would offend his Khornate nature while his Tzeentch nature would approves with a dark smile, an enternal battle raged. Chaos, Havoc, his mind was truley a realm of Chaos. He would make this world like his mind, and this fortress his castle, his new home. But for now, he knew this 'Tyranic' was an Intretsing fellow. Spreading his wings he dived from his cliff edge and flew into the cold air, the smell of burning flesh and blood shed was ripe and deliscous, so delectable. It served both his Slannesh and Nurgle sences, such glourious things made him who he was, he landed only meters from Tyranic and like a Hawk circled him;

"Off for a little stroll?"

The mechanical Spider approached the walls, and as it did so a formation of empire troops began to group up on the walls in front of it. As a response the spider began to whir and hiss, the fluids from one of the large boils gurgled out into the spider and a dull roar as the machine took in air. The empire troops tried to run but they didn't start fast enough. a very loud WHOOOOSH was heard around the city as the gaping maw of the spider spat out a huge gout of bright red fire. Many orcs cheered "Go Bessy!" as the rooftops of several houses burned.

The Blighted chaos warriors charge in the path of their allies' Spider-thing, killing any living thing it had missed. Far back, in his encampment, the Hydra chuckles as he continues performing the ritual, green light moving like lightning bolts around him.

On the walls the Bloodletters had cut down scores of Empire soldiers, raising and securing Brass ladders and drinking the blood of the foe like wine and continuing their bloody art by painting the white walls red. The sunlight seemed to falter under the bloody slaughter as the Orcs and forces of Chaos battled further. Fiery rocks where fired over the walls, crashing into buildings and structures with great power and strength.

Tyranic looked at the daemon with equal parts amusement and awe. THe daemons always seemed to evoke such feelings in him. Because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his patrons would not fell him at the hands of a daemon. It would be a waste of the time and energy they had put into him. And for his patrons time was beginning to run out. This would change at nuln. The daemon seemed to be fairley run of the mill as most daemons went; big scary, feathered. Close enough to Tyranic's favorite prey, griffons. But this was Tzeentch aspected and so deserved his respect. So, with the nine around him, the four commanding the rest of the warriors to set camp and begin to produce great engines of war. He set off down the hill inclining his head towards the daemon to follow.

In the centre of the Hydra's camp, a huge, glowing green portal appears, a warping tear in reality. A lone bird flies through it, comming out the other side as a mewing vulture-like spawn. Then...nothing. The portal remains still, a low, droning noise coming from it, growing louder minute by minute.

"Quiet. Well, I am found of my own voice,"

Syrath began following the warrior, obviously he was not a run of the mill champion, he'd encountered many and most being weak and ill minded. He quickly followed, happy to see what this mortal had to say.

After about half an hour, something very strange happens. Alien and tuneless whistling begins emanating from its oil-like surface, a faint smell of cheese fills the air and several physics-defying insects made of shadow and crystal begin hopping out. A truly insane scene. Suddenly, it all stops, the camp falls pitch black.

Then something huge steps out.

Tyranic walked down the hill with a slow stride that allowed him to take in his surroundings and keep his balance even n the loamy ground. His deeply timbred voice rippled out towards the daemon.
"I have spent more than two hundred years on this plane, fighting, killing and generally causing havok in the name of the Four great ones, and here you are before me, an avatar of the lord of change. Tell me, what can I do for the great deciever?"

"Bring mighty oh Lord Tzeentch something inside the city, an unholy item of magik and Chaos, it will please him, then set this plane alightt with fire of magik and reduce the inhabitants to dust. Start with former allies, and let a circle of deception and Betrayel be weaver into reality."

'They summoned one.' Ulric said, looking towards the city and everything around him. 'Get to the ships. Get the hell out of here.'

'why is evryone leaving? OH DIVINES! WHAT THE H*CK IS THAT!!? RETREAT! PULL BACK TO THE FOREST!!' shouted Gorbaroth as he saw the greater daemon of Tzeentch and heard the chantings 'Leave at once!' and so all the gors, bestigors, ungors, centigors and two remaining minotaurs left the field and searched for shelter in the woods.

'How far are we from the coast?'
'Around a few miles.'
'Allright, stay at bay here.Lets see what those Tzeentchiann lunatics are going to do.'

What the titanic creature was, no one knows, but it is rotting and insectile. It look something like an enormous fly with a bulbous head, spewing filth in all directions. In is wake the very air itself solidifies into nurglings and rot.
With a booming laugh, the Hydra rises, the ritual complete. His temporary ally had been right, he would not waste energy atempting to turn thousands into mewing spawn, he would summon one great one. A second later, the alien portal closes, and the enormous thing roars deafeningly loud, so all hear and know of its dread arrival.

Even the orcs recognised the threat posed in front of them. They immidiately pulled back from the city to watch what would happen between the greater demon(s) and their spider "bessy"

The great horror, with surprising swiftness, makes its way towards the city walls. In is wake, something very strange hapens. Every corpse near to it slowly gets to its feet, twisting and warping. Within seconds, they are transformed into vile plaguebearers, each following the titanic abomination to the city.

The Hydra chuckles far back in the encampment, happy to be performing Grandfather Nurgle's will.

Syrath's armies did not fear fellow Daemons, great as it may be, Khorne and Tzeentch Daemons outnumbered it and refused to show fear. Juggernauts had rallied to Bloodreaper who raised his blade at the sight of the massive beast and snarled, no rotting corpse would take his prize. Screaming a praise to Khorne he charged directly into the breach in the wall with his Daemonic breathen in tow while a rear guard of Beasts of Slannesh began to gallop across the plains before the fortress.

Tyranic turned to the massive daemon that was coming out ofthe breach.
"A gift you say, would that do?"

Without waiting for a reply he tips back his head and lets his arms rise slightly as he draws in breath, and then with a mightly exhultation in his mighty deep voice, screams a single syllable of praise to the dark gods, and all around him his warriors begin to cry into the night as well. Then as one the four champions bring thier legions up behind thier warleader, and they march towards the camp of the Hydra. Tyranic's sword is drawn, icy tendrils trailing from its cursed blade, it will not be shealthed until either he or the daemon are dead..

Syrath smirked and spread his pinions and lifted himself into the air, it was enjoyable to watch the forces of Chaos to fight between themselves. Bloodreapers Brass Knights had withdrawn and come to the Daemonic masters side, the Rear Guard having supported the main force enougth so that the Daemons could break off amd allow the Orcs machine to weaken their defences further. Syrath turned to Reaper and nodded, the Herald roared and charged with his Brass Knights towards the beast screaming praises to Khorne...

The Hydra and his forces charge towards the opposing chaos champions force, screaming praise to Grandfather Nurgle. The titanic horror raises its bulbous head, letting loose a roar of pure, unfiltered insanity and plows into the heretic's force, sending men and limbs flying, those dead rising as foul plaguebearers.

The brass knights slam into the mound of flesh, their flaming blades scarring and melting through the rotting skin and cracking open the thick moles and bulbous puts with slams from the Juggernauts thick skulls.

The roaring horror brings its foot down straight on top of the small, pathetic knights in its shadow. The Hydra slams into three warriors, breaking their spines with a blow of his great sword, his forces tearing into the enemy.

The Juggernauts thick brass and iron hides tear into the foot of the beast while the Bloodletters mounted atop it are thrown off and crushed. Bloodreaper rides around and sneers, riding up to the beast he slams his blade into the beasts knee cap while the Juggernauts go beserk, crashing into anything in their path.

The creature makes what could be called a laugh, ignoring the tiny insects crawling upon it. It again raises its feet and crushes great swaves of enemy forces. The Hydra finaly tatches sight of Tyranic, and rushes towards him. Crushing one of his bodyguard's head with a fist, he shouts at the warlord,

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOU FOOL!"

OK, I'm just going to say this. Your things a blob of flesh, can easily kill everyone's men unless their made of steel and is nigh frikken Invunrable.

And is fast.

Obvious Godmodding is Obvious.

blood reaper wrote:OK, I'm just going to say this. Your things a blob of flesh, can easily kill everyone's men unless their made of steel and is nigh frikken Invunrable.

And is fast.

Obvious Godmodding is Obvious.

Its weak spot is sorcery. Easily damaged by magic and can be easily banished. There, happy now?

OK let's see, the fact it's 'destroyed swathes' of troops is ridiculous. But if Sorcery is its weak spot, let's have a go.

Syrath unleshes a goblet of green fire from his maw and a furious bolt of lightning into the creatures hide, another wave of bolts slams into its hide as Syrath lands and roars triumphantly.

(There you go!)

The creature roars in pain and fury, its being starting to unravel and fade. It falls down to the ground, its plaguebearer forces toppling over, all life leaving them. Slowly, the portal begins to open again, wisps of the titanic thing's being flying into its oily dephs.

Syrath roars in triumph and bursts into green flames, the daemon laughing and cackling. Pointing his Glaive into the air a small storm of fire explodes into life and scorches the ground;

"Return to war legions of Chaos, burn this mortal plain to the ground!"

Tyranic had hit the lines of chaos warriors with a silent swipe of his sword that hacked a swath through the enemy troops. His champions were around him hacking thier way into the press and behind that his legions were plowing in. THe opposing forces were weak and undisciplined and Tyranic and his champions had no trouble defeating scores of the fools. The sorceror at the back however was a different story, and as the great ble beast fell to a bolt of sorcery from the great daemon of Tzeentch, Syrath, Tyranic plowed hrough the press to engage the sorceror in combat, his sorcerous blade trailing icy tendrils and his helm a horrific visage. The sorceror casts a bolt of lighting which is absorbed by Tyranic's armour. And the great warrior closes in for a fight.

(Just setting the scene. Just Tyranic and the Hydra, to make things transparent. The blade has killing blow and Tyranic armour resists sorcery. Tyranic isnt immune to the stuff butyou cant kill him outright either, he also is undead.)

"Why are you doing this?" Shouts the Hydra above the sounds of battle. "Our goal is to defeat the enemies of the chaos Gods, not each other. We will fight this fight, but not today. Not while the unbelievers live within those walls." The Hydra shouts, pointing towards the city walls and the conflict around it.

Tyranic yells back over the sounds of sorcerous winds
"You have been openly against us working together fgrom the start, and now you summon a beast that would necrify the resources I seek to continue my campaign, not to mention my men. YOu summoned this beast in the middle of our camp and already many of my men have fallen to its necrolisis. Your descision was il timed, or at least ill placed Sorceror."

"The beast killed your men because YOUR MEN attacked it! Its purpose was to kill the enemy, not you. Its purpose was to reach the walls, killing all living enemies inside, and then dissapate, its purpose complete. The creatures that spring up around it are only temporary, look how at the creature's death they are merely corpses yet again. I did not speak of this to any of you, as I feared you would suspect trechery and interrupt the ritual." The Hydra replies.

"Is it not ironic then that because you did not speak treachery was created? Save your sorcery for somewhere away from my camp. THe moment that beast hit the planes my men began to die. I could feel it in the winds of magic. You cannot deny the purpose of your beast to kill through disease, and this is what it started to do the moment it was near the camp."

"Yes, it was created to kill through disease. Kill the ENEMY through disease. The only things initially effected by its necrosis and reanimation effects were the enemy dead and dying. Your men were only effected as they tried to bring it harm. As you say though, I WILL perform my sorcery elsewhere, though, and will warn you of the actions I will perform."

"The winds of sorcery are not discriminate in thier destruction. One and all fall before the blight. But I am glad to hear of these words. My forces withdraw."

And so it was, Tyranic's forces had already withdrawn back to the camp.

"My forces shall also withdraw. I am simply glad neither of us had to lose our lives over this matter." The Hydra says, walking away, as his forces move back to their camp.

Syrath smilled, such distrust was a weapon, foolish unguided Sorcerers however threatened his plans. His hunched head turned to Reaper, who tore his sword front the cheast of a Chaos Warrior and howled into the air;

"Bloodreaper, pull back. I believe our dear friend Tyranic is in need of some 'councilling' per say."

The Herald re mounted his Juggernaut and rode of while Syrath turned to the retreating Chaos Champion with glee;

"Tyranic, I must discuss something with you."

Tyranic saw the beast coming and turned to meet it
"What would that be Syrath?"

"---See that it is done. ---. I very much hope you can, but go now, do not linger here." The Hydra finishes to a dark and hooded figure outside his tent. A second later, the mysterious figure is gone, a black shadow in an equally dark night. The Hydra chuckles quietly in the confines of his camp.

Orcish spies knew about the encounter, as while the lords duked it out the orc spider did what it needed to do done. The orcs would now be gathering strength due to knowledge of their grand machine and armies of pike and crossbow wielding orcs, trolls and other beasts. Nuln would fall or the warlord, and his allies would die trying! Orcish drums now sounded signaling their would be allies to move out.

"Our 'ally' and his nature is highly unstable, I believe if you are to appease mighty lord Tzeentch, we should 'remove' him once we have entered the city's catacombs and retrieved the artifact. I fear he may have known of existence before this alliance had been formed, though his ability to jump to the conclusions means that we will have to force him into an ambush or into a state of vulnerability. The Orcs could be useful, being that their nature is a wild one and with their leadership fractured they could spill into civil war, and we can take the spoils of war for ourselves."

"No ally has expended thier usefulness until they are dead, I propose that we simply align things for his army to attack the main fortress and keep once we have breached the walls and then allow the enemy to flank his position, the two will fight it out and then we can mop up the remainder."

"Agreed, I'll pull my forces back and wait for those baffons to open up a hole in the main wall, I've had Bloodreaper return to the Realm of Chaos in search of new riders, though my other troops have had a slight change of heart and have also retreated, though I do have a plan."

Syrath pulled forth a shard of Warp stone.

"----Good, good. This is...interesting, to say the least. Go, continue your duties." The Hydra yet again says to the hooded figure, who has returned to the Hydra's camp. With a quiet chuckle, the Hydra turns away to disguss matters with his elite.

Tyranic looks at the warp stone and shrugs
"What exactly are you going to do with that?"

"This."

Syrath plunges the shard into his cheast, green veins appearing across the bones of the being, green fire explodes into life and set his wings alight. Syrath's fiery eyes turn green and the earth beneath him cracks and shatters.

"I required more power to properly sustain myself."

Tyranic looks at the now green tinged daemon
"And how exactly does this help us?"

"More martial power, and sorcery, but for now manipulation is the key. When do you think we should have our cat paws attack again? I highly doubt the Empire has not prepared a counter attack on the Orcs war machine."

The orcs cared not what their allies did now, only that everyone would get to the meeting site in one piece. The warlord had his gear and was aboard the spider to command the orcish hordes.

Korban grunted and snarled as his balde twisted in the gut of a gurgling servat of Nurgle, the Khornate champion wrenched his weapon free and backhanded the slimy human onto the ground before sashing his sword neatly through the neck of anouther cultist. Korban's entire body was alight with passion and fire. HIs sinewy arms a blur of motion that was impossible to follow even in his heavy plate armour. And more than that it seemed that he had a sixth sense for the location of enemies in relation to his person. He could kill an enemy behind him with surgical prescision and have the fool's vial fluids spurt over his armour and not even seem to realise the change. And then he felt it, the implacable tug of the warleader's will. It was indomitable, and all powerful. No one could resist that will. He waved his sword above his head and his toops began to withdraw, he noticed the other forces around him doing the same. The cultists of nugle were too slow to pursue even more heavily armoured brethren of thier god. It was no use, the marauders came through and cleared a path for the hosts to retreat and that was it.

Even though the battle had ended the blood of Korban's slain foes was still running hot over his armour and blade, a useful quirk of his weapon was that no blood that touched it would stop flowing until it touched the ground. It kept it clean and sharp. He looked up to see his warleader on the bluff with the daemon at his side, the two of them talking in heavy voices that carried with overtones of power, but no discernable words, around him the forces of the army began to construct weapons of war and Korban was forced to take his eyes away from the scene of the massive heavily armoured warleader, who even in his thick, meteor plate armour was uneeringly graceful and cold.

- - -

The Marta's armour is made of a heavy metal that was mined from the core of a meteor that had fallen to the ground in the wastes at the roof of the world, then blessed by Slaanesh itself the armour was melded to Tyranic's very bones, then it had begun to wither his skin, mummifying him in the same way that a corpse is preserved in the ice of a glacier. His eyes took a deathly red hue and eventually the ice mists that have become the wandering champion's hallmark began to coalase around his armour and face. Eventually the warleader became not unlike a shrunken skinned corpse, with heavy metal armour melded to his very bones. This had the twofold result of making him almost immune to Nurgle's embrace, allowing him to sacrifice himself to the god without ever dying. Frostbite is among Nurgle's concoctions and the plaguefather takes relish in the devastation that the blade Tyranic carries can create. The second effect of this was that Because Tranic's armour was a part of him he was granted a supernatural set of senses to accompany the armour, that allow him to feel air currents and pressure fields, mundane and magical. It allows him to sense the presence and power of those around him, physical strength, magical power, even level of exhaustion. It is said that the warleader is omnisient of his surroundings because he can percieve faint breaths of air that not even a wolf could hear. And it is this attribute that makes the warleader such a great strategist. Tyranic looked at the city with his ancient shrunken eyes and looked at the walls and the walls only, the orcs had withdrawn from them and the las fires were being quenched, the high elves and empire soldiers had retreated to the keep and were allowing the militia to man the battlements. Tyranic assessed this and made a single statement,
"Tonight, before the fires are quenched, we shall move on the city."

After a decade since he rose from his Tomb and crossing the mighty desert, Swala made it to the land of the empire a lush, green and large land but this part seemed different there was smoke blood and bodies. Looking around Swala held his ancient hand ordering his warriors to halt as he looked around, the army of bone, metal and jewels covered the mighty field. Suddenly a group of orcs charged from the right side and from the left charged chaos warriors. Swala's yell was nothing more then a screech of dust and death, his warriors formed up their shields locking together and the Ushabti aimed their bows at the orcs and fired at them impaling them to the ground. As the enemy drew closer the Tomb Guard gathered around their king ready to defend him but the chaos warriors suddenly stopped and retreated back Swala looked and saw no more and signalled his warriors to move on.

Korban was halfway through a check of the camps preprations when he saw the warriors of bone moving slowly over the plains. His warcry leapt from his lips and his sword rang free of its sheath as he heard a great cry rise up around him. The orks had already charged and his warriors were forming up for the charge. THe orks would hit first but that did not matter, when his warriors reached the bone lines they would eat them up like the great brass juggernaughts of his patron. Korban willed his soul into its battle state and felt his bloodbegin to heat up, his blade was thrust skywards and his legion surhged forwards. All around him warriors began moving and he followed in thier midst. HIs unearthly cry ringing forth. Korban could feel the blood rage inside him and he charged headlong forward, his heavy armoured boots creting furrows in the ground as he barrelled forward. He was almost within a hundred yards when the implacable will of his warleader forced him to halt. He saw why, Massive tomb guardians were stalking amongst the warriors, great bows clthed in thir hands that were raising to volley the ocrs into oblivion. Korban uttered a short gutteral order in his native tongue nd then a louder one. He and his troops retreated out of bowshot and allowed the orcs to tie up the newcomers, This would require the warleader.

---

Tyranic had seen the charge and had exercised his full will on Korban, his Khornate champion making a headlong rush twoards the feeble boen warriors. he brought Korban out of his lust and forcing him to see the danger. He saw his forces retreating and strode towards the lines of bone warriors, his cloak flapping oinously behind hima nd a trail of frost dead grass in his wake. Tyranic draws his own sword free and raises it in the air. His marauders form up in wedges behind him and then charge forwards, behind them are the chaos chosen. The full might of all of the Four and their legions. His own bodyguard formed a v behind him and as the marauders struck Tyranic tilted into a full sprint. He needed no reason to fight the bone warriors, for they would fight him just as readily. He heard the voice of the hunchbacked soreror in his army call out a name in a strange foriegn tongue and then infront of him was the biggest tomb pharoh he had ever seen. He slammed to a halt and raised his blade.

The Hydra was survaying the scene of cinflict when he saw the aproaching force. Row after row of marching undead, some armed with bows, some not, and lead by an unusualy large pharoh. With a chukle, the Hydra walks closer, unsheathing his daemonic sword, the captive daemon within screaching louder as the army gets closer. The Hydra's elite close in behind him, each armed with a twisted weapon of the warp, their armour covered in fell runes which could burn he eyes of mortals. Moving into a sprint, his followers doing the same, the Hydra quickly moves closer. The Hydra suddenly stops, hearing the foreign tougue of the undead horde's sorceror.

Upon hearing this, the Hydra shouts out in the same, strange language towards the undead sorceror, something around the lines of "What buisness do you have here this day, tomb kings? There is a great conflict in motion, so either help us, leave this place, or die at our hands."

The might pharoh laugh as the chaos lord said they would slay his forces. The chaos lord glared at the mighty pharoh in anger, but instead of attacking him the pharoh extended his hand to the lord this is a rare event for a Tomb King to ally with any other force, but will the slaves of chaos accept.

Walking trough the burned remnants of the fishermans village just 3 miles away from the city, Ulric stabbed his sword into one of the last survivors. Looking around him, he spotted his man doing the same. It was good to be back in the weakling nation of the 'Empire'. Home sweet home, he thought, as he threw a torch into a buidling with the people still in it.

the orcs were no where to be seen, they were in hiding- witch was very suprising knowing how large the orc armies and their spider was

"An ancient race made of bone and time, but both crumble like dust under our power, destroy these overly pious fools and lay waste to the City. I have no time for Kings of a dead Kingdom, nor do I have time for a race that should have crumbled with Nagash. Legions of Chaos, Advance!"


A heavy drum beat began as ranks of Bloodletters rose from the ridge, Pikes, Blades, Maces and Spears where hoisted into the air as the Daemons begin their advance. Shields are raised while Horrors of Tzeentch dance around the main ranks of Khornate Slayers, while a Rear Guard of Slannesh Beasts and Plague Bearers follows. The Heavy steps of a Juggernaut advance also come into existence, as Reapers Brass Knights approach from the south while the main advance comes from the west. Syrath hangs in the sky ready to unleash hell like fire bolts on the legions of undead.

"Stop this foolishness Syrath, there are allies to be had here." Rasps the Hydra, turning to face the upstart daemon. "Do not waste daemons fighting dust-filled corpses of an another age. They may be...useful. At least for the time being. Extra forces cannot hurt." He says, turning back to face the Undead ranks. Taking several staeps foward, the Hydra shakes the dust king's dessicated hand. "Good choice." He hisses in the ancient tongue.

"You speak for no one, your stupidity already cost me men, how dare you claim me as an 'upstart', while you and your whelps sit and wait while summoning beasts that kill our allies I fight. These beings will be nothing but an anchor on the ship that is our cause. If you are too blind too see this then I shall deal with it!"

The fire bolts flew towards the ancient Pharoh but he raised his shield and stopped them, with a undead cackle he returns into the ranks of his warriors and orders them to make camp here with a strained groan. Swala would remain cautious of the chaos slave Syrath after he tried to kill the mighty Pharoh with his weak chaos magic.

Walking over towards the newcome dust king, Hydra again rasps in the dead tongue, "What is your buisness here dust-king newcomer? I am sorry about my foolish daemonic...'allies', tensions are high already without a new faction joining the fray, but I, unlike my daemon friends here see a great chance here. I believe we can become great allies here today and combined, our forces should be enough to put down any upstart factions. So, will you join me in alliace"

"Amazing that you know my language! You dark masters have treat you well slave of chaos but yes I will join forces but if that fool of an ally attacks my forces again we will show him what an army of bone and time is like." Swala said in the dead language of the tomb kings and extends his arm again to shake the chaos slaves hand but as the Hydra lifted his hand Swala lifted a blade and make a small cut then began to shake hands.
"You are now bound by your words Chaos Slave now leave." Swala said as he turned around and disappeared into his army.

"Fool....Reaper, pull back and circle round, hopefully our other allies will not be as foolish "

Daemonic force crackle with delight as they stalk the camp, Syrath lands onto a ledge and unleashes a howl forming several black hawks, they land on this wings as he whispers a black sentence of evil words. The Hawks fly off, towards his other allies hoping to spread word of the traitorous cur and his attempts to bargain with the undead.

As he disapears into his camp, the Hydra mutters a single line of the daemon-tongue, and a split second later, a dozen...things leap out of the very night itself to skulk in opposite directions, all spreading out and covering distance fast. Each creature looks like a vile parody of a chaos warrior, its armour twised and writhing, its limbs warped into long talon and graping tentacles. All bear the fell taint of Nurgle heavily upon them, their once-armour horrible corrded and the few patches of skin to be found are green and pstlent. And yet each creature silently moves away with a strance and unexpected agility. With a chuckle, the Hydra enters his huge tent to disguss matters with his elite.

Swala marches from within his army to see the foolish chaos slave ready to attack.
"Come you fool this bone is ready" He said in the language of the Tomb Kings. As Swala's forces created a large circle warriors on the outside, Sepulchral Stalkers inner circle, Ushabti outer core and Tomb Guard and Pharoh in the centre.
"Come you fool" Said Swala.

Quickly exiting his tent, the Hydra runs up to the Dust-king shouting into the camp. Avoiding the stalker's gaze carefuly, the Hydra shouts, again in the ancient, dead language, "What are you doing Dust-king?! Why are your forces outside my camp!? To wage open war against chaos will be the death of you here. I strongly advise you leave now, before you are all put back in the ground."

Swala looks and see's the Chaos slave and laughs.
"Your fool of an ally is gathering his forces to try and slay us! We know this only because the ground and her insects tell us, so we prepare for these fouls are you a foe or an ally? Will you brake that truce?" Swala said as he exited the army raising his weapon and pointed it at the Hydra.

After a moment of silence the Hydra rasps in the dead language, "I will see what I can do. I will talk with my chaos allies. I shall return soon." Walking back into the camp, the Hydra catches sight of Syrath. Walking closer, his elite at his side, the Hydra says to the great Daemon, "Great son of Chaos, I seek to know, do you seek to wage war on our Dust-king... 'allies'? Speaking only as a giver of advice, I say that if you DO seek to combat the Dust-king, maybe it could be done.. AFTER, this seige and some time afterwards. Feignting peace may cause them to gain trust in you and let you use them in future conflicts, as no one wants their own troops dead if their allies die first."

"Allies? He's using you as a tool, foolish boy, hopefully my other allies shall deal with this problem, as your too blind to see your simply his tool."

You all ignored my post. I shall post it again so that you can understand the full gravity of what you have missed

Lucian Greymark wrote:Korban was halfway through a check of the camps preprations when he saw the warriors of bone moving slowly over the plains. His warcry leapt from his lips and his sword rang free of its sheath as he heard a great cry rise up around him. The orks had already charged and his warriors were forming up for the charge. THe orks would hit first but that did not matter, when his warriors reached the bone lines they would eat them up like the great brass juggernaughts of his patron. Korban willed his soul into its battle state and felt his bloodbegin to heat up, his blade was thrust skywards and his legion surhged forwards. All around him warriors began moving and he followed in thier midst. HIs unearthly cry ringing forth. Korban could feel the blood rage inside him and he charged headlong forward, his heavy armoured boots creting furrows in the ground as he barrelled forward. He was almost within a hundred yards when the implacable will of his warleader forced him to halt. He saw why, Massive tomb guardians were stalking amongst the warriors, great bows clthed in thir hands that were raising to volley the ocrs into oblivion. Korban uttered a short gutteral order in his native tongue nd then a louder one. He and his troops retreated out of bowshot and allowed the orcs to tie up the newcomers, This would require the warleader.

---

Tyranic had seen the charge and had exercised his full will on Korban, his Khornate champion making a headlong rush twoards the feeble boen warriors. he brought Korban out of his lust and forcing him to see the danger. He saw his forces retreating and strode towards the lines of bone warriors, his cloak flapping oinously behind hima nd a trail of frost dead grass in his wake. Tyranic draws his own sword free and raises it in the air. His marauders form up in wedges behind him and then charge forwards, behind them are the chaos chosen. The full might of all of the Four and their legions. His own bodyguard formed a v behind him and as the marauders struck Tyranic tilted into a full sprint. He needed no reason to fight the bone warriors, for they would fight him just as readily. He heard the voice of the hunchbacked soreror in his army call out a name in a strange foriegn tongue and then infront of him was the biggest tomb pharoh he had ever seen. He slammed to a halt and raised his blade.

Walking out of the camp and towards the Dust-king's and Tyranic's armies, his pustulent elite beside him, the Hydra walks up to Tyranic and says in his rasping voice, "Do you plan on combating them, Tyranic? They may make useful...'Allies' for the time being and they already trust me to a degree. Their forces are also strong and may make useful shock troops in future conflcts....Oh, and as of our ealier agreement, I now inform you that I am about to perform a second ritual, though not as destructive as before, it should help in future battles." With that, the Hydra walks back towards the camp, an aura of green energy starting to collect around him, the few patches of plants near him shriveling up and turning into brown mush. As he returns to the camp, one of the twisted creatures reapear next to him and say a line of daemon-tongue. With a chuckle, the Hydra continues on.

"So be it....forces of Chaos....these mortals have allied themselves with these unquiet dead. I tire of such antics, Reaper. Bring up the Gate."

A group of hooded figures drag a wheeled, shrine like ancient gate to the ridge, it's timbers cracked, metal rusted and a taste of copper in the air. Corroded chains and fiery braises hung from each pillar that supported the main structure, and along the main gate sat a line of glowing runes, each representing Chaos and a Golden Star. The Star cracked and withered as lava and fire set it alight and eroded it too dust, tearing a rip of fire and lightning in reality. Several red figures begin to form, bones and veins knitting together to form Bloodletters, and Horrors and other foul monstrosities. Syrath smiles as daemonic things begin to rise from the Realm of Chaos.

One of the twisted warrior-things bounds near to Syrath. The creature, hunched over dripping pus, twists its face ino a warped snarl. A split second later, its expression turns perfectly calm, a green halo appearing above its head. It's face slack-jawed, the creature speaks in a voice not of its own. The Hydra's voice. "Daemon, I am required to tell you of the impending completion of a little ritual of mine. Hm, interesing portal there." With that the creature turns and transforms into a cloud of oily smoke.

Syrath bucks up his head and turns to Blood Reaper who stands over the portal in his Ornate Armour, Axe sheathed and eyes fixed on the Portal;

"Pull back, let the Kings of Old be crushed. Leave the Portal, once it's established we'll need to move away. The Arriving hordes need sacrifices, and I am not one of them."

Reapers eyes dart over to Syrath in confusion and annoyance, his armour shifting like the scales of a brass serpent and clicking into position with his movements;

"Syrath, the foe will release our intentions, if they take the Artifact we cannot summon reinforcements, and with three armies camped only meters away I doubt they will hesitate to attack. I suggest we move the portal to higher ground and swing round, divide and conquer with the arriving forces and then lay siege."

Syrath chuckles, and spreads his wings before turning away from the Khornate Herald who bows and pauses before nodding;

"You know me Reaper, I never fail, now, pull back."

"Yes my lord, move you maggots, fall back to the hills and prepare and hammer strike!"

Tyranic has his soldiers pull back, there is something eeiry going on here, none of it feels right. He turns around and looks back up the hill to see a massive portal covered in runes. It is already begginning to writhe. Tyranic turns to the Phaoroh and with a strange tilt of his head sais in his deep rumbling voice
"It is the strangest feeling when one's allies betray you in the middle of battle, equal parts anger and excitement. Do not betray me Pharoh. Your army is strong yes, but I have not been destined to fall at your hands, do not tempt my wrath. We would work better alongside one anouther than against, the city is nearly stripped. All I seek is food for my warriors and the chance to repair armour and weapons, you may have the dead when we make the city, should you ally with me."

Around him Tyranic's hosts form up and file into ranks and lines, One of the Four champions at the head of each column yelling praise to his or her patron and screaming abuse at his own warriors. The nine of Tyranic's bodyguard arrange themselves in a ring around him, with the crazed sorceror standing well ahead of the others, silent with his head cocked towards the portal. As if listening. Tyranic heard a voice by his side and looked down to see his advisor stadning there.
"My lord remember your favour with the gods. Call a halt to thier armies and turn them against each other or the fool who sought to summon them, you have seen him retreat, he is no friend to these hosts. Call upon your patronage of the gods and beseech them for command of this army."

Tyranic nodded once and had his bodyguards move away and then come back with four screaming prisoners. His sword was brought to chest height point down and with the most careful of movements Tyranic let the handle go. The sword stays floating in midair. Tyranic passes a hand over his face and his helmet visor melts away to show his frost mummified face. His army is well trained and show no open eye to this spectacle. Tyranic stands in the middle of the cross made by the four prisoners and stands tall. One hand streatched out to each side, his cloak flapping heavily in an ethereal wind that springs up from the blade infront of him. He intones in his deep bass.
"I Tyranic Marta, the wandering chosen, seek a boon of my great masters", he gestures towards the first prisoner and the blade flicks up and impales him without any sign of visible control on Tyranic's part "KHORNE"" The first prisoner dissolves into a puddle of blood, then the blade seeks the prisoner directly behind Tyranic "TZEENTCH" The second prisoner explodes in magical flames before slumping to the ground, the blade then seeks the prisoner to Tyranic's left "NURGLE" The prisoner froths at the mouth and erupts in sores and slowly sinks to the ground the blade seeks the last prisoner to Tyranic's right "SLAANESH" The prisoner screams in eaqual parts pleasure and pain before its eyes bug and muscles expand and then explode gorily and from the corpse a Herald of Slaanesh appears, as does a herald of each ofthe other gods appear from each prisoner, Tzeentch a magical flame, Nurgle the reanimated body of the dead, and Khorne a bloodletter that rises from the pool of blood.

Tyranic looks at the Heralds and sais in his heavy voice
"I have summoned you because of my patronage to the dark gods, the thousands of sacrifices in thier name. I ask them to bend thier will upon the portal, have the armies that spew forth turn from me and seek the fools who summoned them, seek them and destroy them."
The Herald of Slaanesh steps forwards
"You ask this in whos name?"
"In Slaanesh's name, In Nurgles name, in Khornes name, and in Tzeentch's name. All the gods, equally and without hesitation."
"My master wants something in return
"And mine"
"Mine also"
"Mine fourth indeed"
"We demand a sacrifice of the four chosen champions you have in return for this boon.

Tyranic smiles and his craked lips flake and crack.
"So be it"

---

"So be it"
Korban heard those words and screamed in rejoice, finally he would serve his master with a death befitting Khorne!!! He flung his arms out to the sides and screamed his praise to the heavens with ever growing vitriol until a great prescence swooped down upon hima nd entered his body. He was lifted up, still screaming his praise across the battlefield in chilling fervour even as he went to his death. The beast inside him told him to draw his sword and die as one of Khorne, Khorne cares not where the blood flows, so long as it flows. Korban took his deadly blade and without hesitation plunged it into his abdomen, his screams however were still of praise, even as his blood sleeted off his enchanted blade and around him his fellow champions were dieing in a way befitting thier gods and then they were plunged earthwards and in ashower of gore, exploded outwards and from their bodies rose a creat figure, niether black, nor red, but somewhere in between, it was taller than the clouds and with immensly heavy footfalls it walked forwards and spoke with 4 voices.
"TYRANIC MARTA... YOU HAVE SACRIFICED US THESE MORTALS AND WE ARE PLEASED WITH THIER SOULS WE WILL GRANT YOU YOUR BOON!!! KNOW THIS, WE WILL NOT CHANGE OUR DESCISION, THE ARMIES OF THE CHAOS FOUR NOW MARCH UPON THIER SUMMONERS, ALL THE DAEMONS THAT COME FORTH FROM THIS PORTAL WILL SEE YOU AS NEITHER FRIEND, NOR FOE, BUT SIMPLY NOT A COMBATANT. SO SHALL IT BE!!!" and with a mighty thunderclap the effigy dissapeared and Tyranic felt his sword back in his hand. He had lost his champions, but more would rise from the ranks, that was the way of chaos. But in return he had turned the greatest daemonic army ever to grace this world back upon the summoners.

OK, you've just turned an entire Chaos horde on me, one that I can't beat and I'll have all my forces destroyed in an instant?

I'm out.

Surrender to the gods, do waht anydaemon would do and join the army and head for the city

quite simple really. The "GODS" said that "All daemons who came forth" Simply write it that you came from the portal origionally too and thus you are included in the army.

OK, so the game ends?

'Cause by the sounds of it we kind off win in a second with such a force.

No they conquer the city then go.. there are still alot more cties in the fantasy realm reaper

OK, can't my portal ever be my portal?

I mean, while Chaos champions have power, deciding ALL YOUR PORTALS BELONG TO US isn't that fair.....

One of the Once man-things runs up to Tyranic, a halo of pustulent energy atop its twisted head. The creature stops metres away from him and says in a horrid, warped voice,

"What was that Tyranic? Very impressive work there, very impressive. Turning the daemons against their summoner's was...inteligent. My ritual is soon to be completed, so expect strange things happening in the near future. I also apoligise for having to talk to you through this... thing. The ritual requires my presense and concentration. Goodbye."

With that final word, the creature leaps into the air, its form instantly melting into night.

blood reaper wrote:OK, can't my portal ever be my portal?

I mean, while Chaos champions have power, deciding ALL YOUR PORTALS BELONG TO US isn't that fair.....

I'l loan you some..

Time to fight fire with fire.

The sky bursts into flames, a flesheless dragons head rises into the air, it snarls a crooked laughter and crashes into the ground with a thunderous clap as it spreads it's wings and roars, Syrath laughs madly as he slams his foot before Marta and lowers his head and coughs, the breeze caused does nothing but make Syrath smile and he continues laughing;

"Betrayel? oh I'm shocked!"

No, Portal, No army, but one hugefethingdragon.

blood reaper wrote:Time to fight fire with fire.

The sky bursts into flames, a flesheless dragons head rises into the air, it snarls a crooked laughter and crashes into the ground with a thunderous clap as it spreads it's wings and roars, Syrath laughs madly as he slams his foot before Marta and lowers his head and coughs, the breeze caused does nothing but make Syrath smile and he continues laughing;

"Betrayel? oh I'm shocked!"

No, Portal, No army, but one hugefethingdragon.

Tyranic doesnt breath, thus no coughing.just pointing this out

No Syrath coughs.

(Not sure if godmoddin' or just trollin'..)

Of corse

Spider, portal theft, giant daemons.....

Can we PLEASE try to get this back on track. I was really enjoying this.

Sounds fine, I want my Daemons back.

Fine. 30-40 sounds fine like you said.

Cool, I'll go back to my herald form.

Cool. That's carry on.

Let's wait for Marta

I love this, you missed the point reaper. You still get your army they are just targetting the city once you join with them rather than the undead. If you target the undead I will fight back.

So where should we start off from again?

What? Can't I just have my daemons and not have them just stolen. Back to when the Tomb Kings arrived.

Yeah, sounds fair.

What? After all that work I put into the ritual post?

Oh and sorry bu isnt it a bit op how you can summon reinforcements whenever you want but we have only got what we have? Work with what you have reaper, use tactics, not overwhelming numbers, that just gets boring.

OP? I can constantly? I'm adding 30-40 daemons,but fine.

-.- You've added 30-40 daemons now, but whats to say you wont do it again later?

Lucian Greymark wrote:-.- You've added 30-40 daemons now, but whats to say you wont do it again later?

The fact that this RPG will likely break down and/or disband if he does.

Its happened b4. Im jsut being cautious

Before?

Lul wat?

Seriously, you talk about op when you've just stolen my army from me, that's ridiculously hypocritical.

I was only going to do it once.

*Tears hair out*

Dont worry about it, lets ust get back to roleplaying.

---

Tyranic looks over the city with an air of distaste. His plans were set and in motion but the city still held. His hand clenched convulsivly at his side and he growled out an order.
"Set the lines. We are taking the city."
All around him from the earth rose great catapaults, hidden and buried, made of stariron and warpstone the Catapaults began to fling glowing hunks of rock at the walls.

A twisted creature that could have been once chaos warrior, materialises out of the air itself next to Tyranic with an oily cloud. It looks like a warped parody of man, corruped irreversibly by Nurgle, its armour horribly corroded, its few patches of skin, covered in numerous boils and growths. With a snarl, its faces him, hunched over, but a split second later, its face calms, a halo of green light appearing above its head. Standing up straight, its speaks in a voice not of its own. The Hydra's voice. With a rasping cough, it speaks.

"I see the siege is progressing well Tyranic. I am here to tell you that I will shortly begin a second ritual to summon a few more soldiers to fight for me. I apoligise for my lack of presence, as the ritual requires my utmost concentration and I am the only sorceror of my army strong enough to do it. There, I have informed you, as of our agreement. May the Dark Gods be with you and your army."

With the final word, the thing leaps into the air and almost instantly transforms into an oily cloud of smoke, which disapates quickly.

"BREAK THE GATES!"

A howling scream from Reaper atop his Black armoured Juggernaut signals the start of his charge, four massive brass knights crass into the gates while Bloodletters of Khorne march behind, carrying ladders and long burning pikes and shields. Horrors of Tzeentch dance and cackle as they fire pink and blue bolts at the castle, while Syrath's hulking form directs the attack.

Swala leads his warriors into war ignoring the chaos slaves he orders his warriors to form a shield wall along the army of daemons and orcs to defend them from the defenders arrows. Swala orders his archers to fire at the defenders and orders the Sepulchral Stalkers to enter the city through the sewers and wells of the city to cause terror and brake moral.
"Slave of chaos I will help your forces for this battle but after this my forces are moving on to the next city!" Swala Yelled over the sounds of war.

Another of the twisted, warp-things materialises next to the Dust-king with a cloud of smoke, the halo of green energy above its twisted head.

"Of cource, Dust-king, of cource. I see the siege is going to plan. Very good, very good. I am here mostly to check up on the siege and its progress, but I am here to inform you of my ritual in progress. Soon I will be more than a simple chaos Lord. Oh, and I apoligise form my lack of presence, for the ritual requires my utmost concentration and presence. Untill next we meet."

With that, the conduit vanishes into the air with a burst of darkness.

Another shudder and a gouge opened up in the gate as the Bloodcrushers slammed their thick iron skulls into it, splinters and metal shards flying everywhere as a second thunderous hit cracked and destroyed the lock, the timber began to burn as the hell blades of the Daemonic Knights set it ablaze. Another strike shattered the gate into several pierces and with a deafening hail the Juggernauts charged into the bewildered defenders, bone and flesh were sent flying into the sky as the massive constructs of Khorne charged into combat. An armed column of Bloodletters separated and joined the slaughter, once organized ranks turned into bloody carnage and slaughter.

As the allied demonic hoard smash down the feeble city gates, a dozen or so of the twisted creatures, all with a halo of rotting energy above their heads, instantly appear in perfect syncronicity behind the enemy lines, tearing empire soldiers limb-from-limb with their powerful claws, only to vanish into darkess as a sword slashes through the space they occupied a split-second before. Each of the creatures laughs and speaks in perfect unison, all in the voice of the Hydra,

"HAHA! This is more fun than I expected. Multiple-individual possession is always greatly enjoyable."

The fleshless daemon lands atop a spire and surveys the field, his eyes made of fire searching for signs of interest or entertainment, climbing through the shattered rafters he quickly enters the building and slaughters the inhabitants, with blood splattered claws he makes his way to his advancing army and watches as it soaks the streets of the Empire in blood and horror.

As the twelve warped-things slaughter soldier after soldier, a line of riflemen line up down the street and take aim. A second later, they let loose a hail of bullets, three of the creature dying instantly, their heads exploding in a shower of pus from the fire. While they reload, a cannon fires from a nearby window, instantly killing another two. Before the riflemen can reload however, a strange green light appears in the middle of them, pulling them inwards slightly. Looking bemused, the soldiers have only a split second to react before they are sent flying in all direction, the Hydra where the vortex was a moment ago. Turning around slowly, he raises a gauntleted hand towards the cannon crew, pure warp-energy tearing them apart atom by atom.

"Missed me?"

"Kill everything! Tear flesh! Splinter Bone! Spill Blood! Serve the slaughter! Crush these whelps and hang their heads from the roofs of this pathetic city. Destroy order and let Chaos reign, set the city alight with hate anguish and slaughter!"

More howling screams from Blood Reaper, swinging his axe and decapitating Foot Knights and Soilders as they stab and scream at him as he charges with his bronze knights. Another howling scream comes from Reaper as he bisects an Empire Captain trying to organise a group of panicking soilders who crash into each other as they run from a screaming Bloodletters charge. Limbless suvivours are slowly dissected by emotionly drunk Fiends and Plague Bearers who chant and ring bells of plague. A swarm of flies and insects pour from sewers and rats vomit maggots and parasites.

The Hydra walks leisurely through the city, his men torching houses full of screaming civilians, brutaly executing those unfortunates who scrabble out alive. A roaring fireball explodes against the Hydra's back suddenly, a booming taunt coming with it. The Hydra slowly turns to face the fool who did that, an Empire fire mage standing metres away. Laughing horribly, the Hydra gestures at the upstart human, with a gauntleted hand. The man stands there for a moment, confused, before he sees his the corpses of his mutilated allies get to their feet, their forms dripping with pus and covered in boils. The Hydra turns and casualy walks away chuckling, hearing the man's agonised screams and cries for help.

The ritual had gone well, the Hydra thought.

Theres no defenders this is boring

Good point. Now what?

((this is what))

the orcs began amassing again south of the currently vacant southern city walls. The warlord spoke to the hordes of orcs from many different banners "Orcs of Gobthorn Gorge! Hellspice Glacier! Gorkamongus Valley! and Drakthorn Mountain (made up names! YAY) orcs from the foundries of Jubali! Today marks the fall of the realms of man! (a shaman now uses waaagh magic to increase his voice volume so the entire city can hear) WE WILL CONQUER ALL OF THE EMPIRE IN A TIDE OF WAR AND GLORY! ALL WILL FALL UPON THE EMPIRE LIKE A GREAT GREEN WALL OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION THESE LANDS WILL BE OURS!" the orcs now charged the city their spider again visible and approaching the city spitting great gouts of red flame across the rooftops. there were more than enough orcs here to overwhelm even a prepared defender, and this city was in a state of disarray. It was very clear something would have to be done quickly to buy the forces in the city time.

OK, Orcs would never be that organised, nor would their language skills be good. It be a bit like this;

WEZ GONNA STOMP ALL DEM EMPIRE LADZ AND AVE A RIGHT GOOD FIGHT, THEN WE STOPMZ EM AGAINZ AND AGAINZ.

Also, do you think we should maybe, fight each other, because the defenders aren't defending?

Who against who?

Or free for all?

Chaos against Tomb Kings and Orcs?

blood reaper wrote:Chaos against Tomb Kings and Orcs?

Sounds good.

Aye. Anyways, in the original RP, we got more cities too.

Excellent, I think we best wait for the others.

((da warlord iz a sofistukated un- ee speeks all proppa an such))

((that post is meant to directly threaten ALL of you we orcs outnumber all of you 3 combined by at least 3 to one and we have the spider to help us. God (or Gods) help you all because this orc army is designed to make a deep impression on the empire and your just in it's way. It's leader is partialy insane with a "vision" where orcs are the main power of the realm not humans.))

How nice.

Swala saw the chaos warriors take their prize and knew they would turn on him soon.
" Warriors we leave these dogs to devour each other!" Swala said as he lead his forces from the city.
"We will destroy the next city before the other slaves get there!" Swala said to his warriors.

What do you say super chaos friends, that's KILL THEM ALL!

Tyranic is already in position.

---

Tyranic saw the city walls fall and turned to Korban who was nearby. He moved heavily forwards and reached down gripping the cchaos champion by his lapel and lifting him bodily off the ground. Looking straight into his face with almost daemonic eyes the Chaos Herald growled
"The bone warriors are leaving. Cut them down."

His backhanded flick sent the immense chaos warrior tumbling across the dirt but the Khornate champion came up grinning
"Yes Warleader. LEGIONS TO ME!"

All through the chaos camp came the sounds of dragonbone horns being blown and a terrible battle cry filled the air as the Chaos chosen legions turned towards the bne army.
Tyranic saw the Hydra's legions moving towards the Khemri and roared in triumph. His marauders streamed down the hill whooping and cackling and even the skyies were rent with thunder. His army coalased in a heaving mass of warpsteel ,meteor iron and flesh that hurtled towards the fleeing Khemri.

Tyranic Drew his heavy blade and sprinted towards the front lines bellowing praise to the dark gods.

The Hydra's legions charge foward in close persuit of the fleeing Dust-men, screaming praise to grandfather Nurgle. The Hydra, at the head of the force, raises his one free hand towards the undead's rearguard, some of their number's skulls exploding into shards as if hit by a great hammer. Great masses of Nurgle-devoted cultists stream foward ahead of the marching chaos warriors, laughing maniacly as they close in on the undead force.
The Hydra chuckles as he witnesses this.

"This will be a slaughter." Mutters the Hydra, looking around at his great legion and their allies.

Swala heard the chaos warriors preparing to charge, he stopped his forces and formed a large shield wall and wait for fools to attack. Surrounded by his Tomb Guard Swala waited his forces may perish in this battle, so Swala placed his death mask on and let out a might battle cry and his warriors joined.
"TO WAR!" They repeated in the language of the Tomb Kings.

Tyranic collided with the front undead line like a meteor. His blade rending a skeleton in half and his hand crushing anouthers skull to dust and flicking the remains o its corpse at its fellows. Around him his warriors were laying waste, His slaanesh followers to fast for the undead to strike, his Khorne worshippers to skilled, those of nurgle shrugged off attacks like the flies they harboured, and his Tzeentch worshipers melted blades before they struck and flung thier enemies asunder with words of power.

Swala crashed against the chaos warriors and slashed with his blade decapitating Slaves and daemons alike, warriors slashed at Swala but were countered and impaled by his elite warriors.
Each forces began to take their toll on the other but mostly on Swala's warriors this slaves caused damage like no other force.
"I WILL NOT FALL YOU TREACHEROUS SLAVES!" Swala yelled.

Tyranic heard the yell in the alien tongue and turned to the mighty warrior.
"Let us end this here and now. Undead to undead!"

Swala chuckled and ordered his warriors to retreat to safety as he battled the other undead fool. Swala charged at this Tyranic and clashed blades.
"One of us will die today but I will return you fool" Swala said as he jumped back from the clash and slashed hitting Tyranic in the leg.

Tyranic slipped his blade between Swala's and his leg and twisted, bring them back to head level before pushing crossways and twisting to the side to boot Swala in the stomach.

(Keep in mind that Swala and Tyranic are probably about the same age and Tyranic is blessed by all four gods. He isnt that easy to take down. And I respect that Swala wont be either)

A slight vortex of green energy appears near the two clashing figures, nearby debris being drawn towards it. A split second later, it all goes flying in all directions, the Hydra standling where the vortex was a moment ago. Unsheathing his unholy, warp-blessed sword, the Hydra takes a step foward before laughing horribly, two of his strange teleporting warpspawn materialising beside him, their faces twisted into snarls.

"Oh, I hope i'm not interrupting anything interesting here at all. Missed me?"

Strangly, as the Hydra speaks in his rasping voice, above the sound of conflict, the two things beside him also talk in perfect unison, the familiar green halo above their heads.

"This is not the best of times, but i'm here to tell you of the ritual. It went perfectly to plan...it requires just one more thing"

The orcs surged forward to follow the other forces. The orcish leaders were in a full battle lust now and would probably chase their foes to the end of the earth if needed.

Swala saw some of his ribs were cracked but it did not bother him. Swala thruster his blade into Tyranic's arm then pulled it out but it healed up with puss.
"You are a coward letting your gods protect you." Swala chuckled.

Syrarth crashed down behind Swala, using his winged hands to stalk behind the Tomb king and grabbed the ancient one by the solders slamming him onto his back and cackling before retreating and continuing to circle. Reaper and his Juggernauts having smashed into the Orcish hordes flank with a horde of Bloodletters.

With the last statement, the Hydra's head suddenly turns, and cracking his neck, steps foward, his heavily gauntletted fist slamming into Swala's dessicated ribs. The blow would have been enough to kill a mortal man, but luckily for Slala, he is no such thing. The blow instead causes him to stumble backwards with a grunt, three of his ribs cracked.

"You call me a coward? Say that again. I dare you. Ahem, Tyranic, I believe this is your fight. Continue."

Mutters the Hydra, stepping back again.

"If he must....I will seek other prey.....blood and bone are the same....I must be fed!"

Syrath stands tall and grabs a Skeleton Warrior, tearing it in two he lobs it's remains into the crowds of Tomb Kings while snarling and roaring.

"You coward you think this is a fair fight 4 armies against us and 4 cowardly champions against me? Ha I will take you all on you are nothing, your gods crave for your souls and I will let them feast upon them!" Swala yells as he rushes at the 3 champions taking his double ended in both hands and with great skill attacks all four. He slashes the Nurgle champions chest but the wound begins to ooze together, then the Khorne champion but after slashing his arm the champion kicks Swala back, the Tzeentch champion stabbing him in the leg then darting back to avoid a hit.
"Come! Stop your armies attacking mine and we will find out who deserves to lead your massive force, sooner or later you are going to turn against each other so lets do this now all vs all"Swala said as he looks at the Champions look at each other.

"Foolish king of dust, your lands are naught dust and sand and your kingdoms simple ruins in the wind, and instead of taking a warriors death, you stand amongst the living as a coward and fool as you could never have what an honorable warrior could ever have. A Warriors death, you should simply fall into dust and let the world continue, it would put you to rest so your humiliation ends. It's simply to humorous to fight you and watch as your weak bones break and you fade into nothing."

Syrath spreads his wings and vomits up a gust of green flame that burns and scorches the Tomb King, grabbing his solder Syrath tears one of Swalas mummified organs and slams his head into the ground before stamping on the Skeletons back.

He walked trough the forest, his army following behind. Grabbing his sword, Ulric looked towards the city. 'They made quite a mess out there, ' he said, 'lets fix that for them..'

"Out of my way. I don't want to fight a dead corpse." Rasps the Hydra as he steps foward, grabbing Swala by the shoulder and pulling him up, before tossing him sideways.

"Get up corpse-lord, get up and meet an honourable and final oblivion."

Shouts the Hydra, standing above the broken Dust-king, one hand gripping a huge, vile sword, the other holding a roiling ball of warp energy.

"Get up and meet your death."

Swala chuckles.
"You think you can harm me slave?" Swala say, he gets up and charges and him and stabs the beast in the stomach with a screech of pain Syrath hits Swala away. Taking his chance Swala runs and slashes the creatures legs knocking Syrath to his knees, then Swala kicks the fool in the chest.
"Your gods fail you! Now fight with each other or are you to weak?" Swala says to the creatures face then turns and retreats with his army into the forests. To the next city the fools of chaos will help their Daemon master this will bide time. The Hydra was amazed at the speed does not see the Tomb King's fist head towards his face knocking him to the floor.

'Kurt, you like bones?'
'No sir.'
'Dust?'
'Nope.'
'Me neither. But it looks like the combination of the two are screwing up this place. Sound the advance.'
As Ulric stopped talking, the hornblowers in his force all grabbed their instrument, as his army marched forward.

"Crush him make him suffer! "

Syrath grabs Swala by the neck and slams his fist into his gut cracking the bone, snapping the spine and kicking the body away Syrath begins to circle in the air, swiping with his bladed tail and laughing manically as he and the Hydra taunt and mock the ancient king;

"You....fool!" Swala laughs pushing himself up off the floor grabbing his weapon and getting up.
"Ha you may be a favourit to your gods but look Nurgle hates Tzeentch think Hydra! Think!" Swala says as he blocks a attack from an impatient daemon. flips it over his shoulder and impales it. Syrath grow angry at Swala and flew down and grabbed Swala. Taking this opportunity Swala slashed Syrath's wing and arm forcing him to drop Swala.
"Come Hydra see the Truth!" Swala yelled.

The Hydra walks calmly towards the crippled corpse-king, sheathing his great, Nurgle-blessed blade. Laughing slightly, he stands beside the dessicated figure.

"I am going to enjoy this."

With that, the Hydra grabs and picks up the Corpse-king by his neck, gripping tightly, and grabs hold of one of his withered arms. With a laugh, the Hydra breaks the limb upon his armoured leg.

"You should never of crossed the chosen of Chaos."

Although still laugthing, the Hydra silences for a minute upon hearing the dust-king call Nurgle and Tzeentch enemies. Perhaps he is right, the Hydra thinks silently.

"For the nature of Chaos is too be both enemy and ally, nor friend nor foe, thus it serves the greater cause with its nature, you are simply a relic in a new world. A being out dated and yet still walks with the living though dead, pathetic and deluded, wasteful and arrogant, no wonder that your race was wiped off the face of this earth once and will be again. Rise up again and again and I shall slay you again and again, so it would be best that you rot in this field of battle than be broken by my hands again."

Tyranic watches with mild amusement before raising a hand and flicking it impetuously. The scene freezes, Blood reaper stops mid swing, Hydra mid chuckle, the armies mid fight. Only Swala is untouched.
"This is our battle Undead."
Tyranic waves his balde in direction of the Undead and the warriors cracked ribs and armour heal over and repair themselves, Tyranic does the same to his own armour.
"The gods have decreed that we fight. This is not my power, it flows through me from the god Tzeentch. Even his own minion the daemon is stilled. See? Now let us go somewhere more fitting. Our armies can battle in our absense, but this fight is ours."

The scene snaps and The two find themselves on a raised circular stone dias, that is floating in an endless swirling abyss. The dias is roughly 100 feet (30 metres) in diameter. And is perfectly flat, with no loose stones or pebbles, and the ground has good friction. No one would slip on this surface. Perfect for a battle.

---

Back in the plains the battle rages on Blood reaper and Hydra do not notice the pause, only the absense of the two warriors.

---

Tyranic draws his sword once more and sets his stance.
"No more magic, or sorcery, or daemons to get in our way Pharoh. Just you And I, ancient warriors of a time long past. of civilizations lost. Come. Fight me."

'So, the servants of Nurgle are still here?'Ulric said, grabbing a throwing axe. 'I dont like them.'
He threw the axe towards the Hydra.
'You, sir, smell awfull.'

Catching the axe mid through, the Hydra swiftly turns.

"You, sir are very late. My buisness here is done."

Mutters the Hydra quietly before exploding into an oily cloud of smoke and darkness, much like his elites, who do the same simmultaniously, several nearby skelatons engaged in combat with the expoding into countless bone shards.

Swala readies his his weapon.
"Lets end this!" Swala says removing his death mask.
"I want to look you in the eyes when I kill you." Swala yells as he charges into battle.

'Could have known that..´ Ulric muttered to himself. He held his Runeshield in front of him, and activated his armor. Readying his sword, he screamed, ´Come here, Nurgling!´

The Hydra and his bodyguard gone, all falls silent for a minute. Before one of his teleporting elite reappear with a burst of oily blackness. It stands there for as moment, its warped face contorted into a twisted snarl, but then its freezes, a green halo glowing from utop its head. With a chuckle signiture of the Hydra, it rises uprigt, flexing its talon and and drawing its pustulent sword. In the Hydra's rasping voice it says,

"You were saying? Hmm, its been a while since i've faced a real chalenge in one of these."
With another chuckle, the Hydra-thing charges.

With Syrath retreating into the sky, Blood Reaper takes command of the host from his Juggernaut of Khorne, Espilon. The Hulking black beasts snarls and roars unnerving any foe foolish enough to try and hold fast against it's bone crushing, blood splattering, organ grinding charges. The Daemon however had grown board of the pathetic Skeletons, they where mere slaves to a dead power, ancient ornaments of war that during an other age had formed grand opponents now formed mindless legions and while truly a legion they where, they would never again be true warriors and they where crushed, destroyed and broken by the dozen yet the tides of Skeletons would never halt. Riding through a wave of bleached bone Reaper came upon a green tide, and was greeted by one of the greatest "WAAAAAAAAAGHHHH!"s he had ever heard, while he was not plagued by mere mortal illnesses or dislikes, the sound of an Orc Waaghh would always ring in his ears and would always mean a good fight, a very good one if not. Pulling his brass beasts rains, the Khornate herald drew his great axe "Head Splitter" which was forever coated in the blood of ten thousand foes and screamed a ferocious battle cry as he charged;

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! LET THE WORLD DROWN IN IT!"

Screaming this praise to Khorne enraged the Bloodletters of the host, sending them in to a great fury that would drive them to madness if not for only one thing. A target. Be friend nor foe they would slay till no foe was lift living, or they where broken on this field. Axes flew and Blades spun as the Bloodletters engaged in a wild bloodlust of decapitation and disembowelment, while the Blood Reaper and his knights crashed into the Orcs and begun their own battle of hate and anger.

Gobgut signaled the orcs to attack the khornate followers masses of boys with pikes and crossbows now counter-charged the chaos lines the hulking warlord bellowing as he hurtled for what was seeming to be their leader. The warlord was flanked by several trolls and numerous black orcs. The troll sized warlord at the center of this mass of bodies was heavily armored and wielding an extremely large sledge hammer and a tower shield. From the distance they were at it was difficult to tell if their were any weak areas in their armor. The orcish spider veered off course from the chaos forces and marched for the town to crush and scatter those in it's way.

Blood Reaper ignored the gesture and swung his Axe against the charging Orcs, decapitating five with a swift swing and crushing several underfoot, the Juggernauts also ignore the Orcs, madly gorging and crushing the advancing Orcs with their hove's and horns.

The Hydra-conduit darts amongst the orcish ranks, dismembering those foolish enough to get close to it with its talon and sword. A troll behind him vomits a great stream of vile toxins and filth at the conduit, but it simply laughts as if in a shower of rain, before spinning round and severing the creatures legs at the knees, then cutting its head clean off with a flick of a barbed talon. Messily executing several brutish orcs in his way, the conduit starts moving towards Blood Reaper.

The warlord continued his pursuit of Blood Reaper now following behind the chaos leader gaining ground with his immense muscle.

Tyranic Rips off his helm and lets it fall to the floor, his dessacated shrunken head now fully visible, but the baleful light that glows there is undimmed. Marta moves forwards heavily, but swiftly catching the Undead warriors blade on his own and marvelling at the mystic strength of the bag of bones, Tyranic held the blades for a moment, interested how the warriors had similar strength, before angling his so that Swala's began to slide off. Tyranic struck for the undead warrior's chest.

"Come Orc! Be the first War Lord of a new Waagh to fell my Axes bite!"

Mounted atop Espilon, Blood Reaper charges towards the Orc, cutting down two large Trolls with quick strike and laughing madly as he dived into combat.....

With an inky blast, the Hydra-conduit materialises on the back of a large troll, taken by surprise, the creature flails it thick arms, but to no avail, as the thing atop its head stabs its sword down into the creature's brain, killing it instantly. Laughing madly, it materialises again amongst a squad of Black orcs. Taking them by surprise, the thing kills four within two seconds, limbs and heads flying in every direction.

The warlord leaped at the chaos leader knocking him off of his steed

Reaper slams his Axe into the Orcs stomach and strikes his skull, leaving the green Titan dazed, and with another strike topples the Warboss and he prepares to land a decapitating strike while his rampaging mount leaves a trail of red and green paste behind its self.

The warlord opened his eyes from the blow and rapidly used his massive sheild to bash the chaos lord away from him. The warlord then picks himself up and grunts as he picks up his hammer and charges at the chaos lord.

With a burst of shadow, the conduit materialises on the warboss' back, laughing wildly as it tears into his back wih sword and claw.

I'm a herald, it's different from a Chaos lord.


Syrath begins another stuka bombing run on the War boss, diving down and sending a barrage of warp bolts into the Orc while Reaper slams his flamming axe into the shield.

The Hydra's conduit continues its relentless slashing into the gargantuan orc's back, but mid laugh, its eyes suddenly go vacant, the halo above it head dissipating instantly, and it falls to the ground completly unmoving and dead. As this takes place, the other green-halo'd creatures burst into a cloud of shadow, leaving the battlefield.

The warlord cared not for the wounds on his back. they would heal for that was almost all muscle there. The huge warlord smashed his hammer into the herald of chaos knocking him away then charged at him with the intent to crush the herald under his weight.

bLAAGH

-.- rlly?

Agreed.

Bit too far Robot.

I do have a very small army, and I'm quite weak for a daemon prince.

Oh and really? To far? We are up again an enormous orc horde with a huge warboss and a gigantic mechnical spider. But sure, call godmod on me twice.

Tell you guys what, shall I just morph into a daemon prince that has the favor of all four gods? Dude there is a reason that we start with human characters (albeit in my case a dead one) Its so that we retain an aura of "Mortality" we can still be deadeated. The moment you hit daemonhood then you may as well be god. Reaper just cheats.

Yes we are up agains ta massiv eorc horde, but frankly my legion alone could almost crush them, just with the power of the gods. Use what you have at your disposal, not go searching for bigger guns. And who gives if we loose? Someone has to. It gets boring if you win all the time. You wil notice that out of the main chaos players (Sorry TNB) I am the only one that doesnt call for backup? these games are about giving yourself an army and then using it to the best of your abilities. Not pulling new guys out of hammerspace all the time to win. What if the orcs started doing that, and the undead, and the empire. It becomes an endless struggle with no winner. Which is gay. Guys seriously, stick with what you have, and if you loose then so be it. You were outplayed by a superior opponent, no shame in that.

I cheat?

You start as a daemon lol.

Haha, I get it now.

do you get my point about this though? Cause if you dont then what is the point of playing if there is no eventual winner, whoever that is

Shall I godmod the spider?

nah. It will die. I might just pull a marius on its ass to even the playing field

((its a lot weaker on the inside hint hint))

Lol that was the plan. But I need to finish the scrap with swala first

(OOC) I'll go for the the spider, deal with McBones and also, you can't just become a daemon prince like that, its bloomin Godmoddery.

Syrath glides down and lands on the Roof of the spider unleasehing a roar of fire and acid onto its roof, jumping onto the inside Syrath quikly slays several guards and begins to make his way to the engine room. Reaper slams his Axe into the Orc and dodges that attack swiping with great fury into the Orcs chest, and then a second strike to the back with even greater rage.

Lucian Greymark wrote:Lol that was the plan. But I need to finish the scrap with swala first

Swala vs Chaos = Both dead.

(WTFE)

with all trace, exept the many orc corpses littered around the battlefield, of the Hydra gone, the battle continues on, silent, boil-covered warriors hack apart orcs only to face the same fate seconds later. Carnage. But then, after several minutes of combat, a green vortex begins to materialise in the heart of the orc lines. It remains there for a minute, only pulling orcs and debris weakly towards its centre. Suddenly with an earsplitting crack, it explodes, in a large cloud of pure darkness. When the shadows dissipate, all that remains is a dozen or so horribly mutilated orcs and, at the centre, the Hydra stands, surrounded by a dozen black armoured chaos warriors, their armour and weapons covered in runes that hurt the eyes of those who look apon them.


(Oh, and one question. Why did you lot kill off my monster a while back?)

The orc guards and operators of the spider reacted slowly to the intruder until a corpse was found at which point the spider stopped to gather more orc warriors to defend it.

black templar wrote:

Lucian Greymark wrote:Lol that was the plan. But I need to finish the scrap with swala first

Swala vs Chaos = Both dead.

The gm will decide

Ulric stepped forward. He raised his voice.
'HYDRA. I CHALLANGE YOU TO A DUEL. NO TRICKERY. I WILL CLAIM YOUR SKULL FOR THE BLOOD GOD, AND YOU SHALL FALL.'

The final confrontation!

"Hmm, jester of Khorne, why should I duel you? Why should I fight for the puny spilling of blood your brutish patron begs for? He is your god, kill some puny empire man somewhere to sate his idiotic whims."

Shouts the Hydra, laughing wildly.

'I have slaugthered your daemonic friends alike, including champions of your smelly god. Face me, coward. Or hide behind your diseases.'

"I have no reason to fight you. If we fight, then its less of the enemy killed, and our forces weakened. I will not join you in a petty squabble."

The Hydra shouts in his rasping voice, darkness leaking out of the surrounding area and drifting towards the Hydra.

"I must go now. I have more pressing issues."

With those final words, the Hydra and his armoured elite vanish in a blast of shadow.

Just saying "The Hydra" Is more of a Tzeentchy name. IMO

Lucian Greymark wrote:Just saying "The Hydra" Is more of a Tzeentchy name. IMO

Well its eight pages in an I very much doubt i can change aliegence.

Ulric threw his sword to the ground angred. The coward. Sooner or later, he would claim the head of it. For sport.

Its all good mate, I'm just saying lol.

Tyranic is getting bored...

Yeah, where is black Templar?

Lucian Greymark wrote:Its all good mate, I'm just saying lol.

Tyranic is getting bored...

I'm sorry just a bit depressed I'll post tomorrow.

Sall good mate, RL is important

Lucian Greymark wrote:Sall good mate, RL is important

Cheers mate.

No worries, look after yourself

Blood Reaper had resorted to cutting down other Orcs, with single blows he could decapitate ten-fifteen Orc warriors and bisimbowl the remainder with his sword. Swinging his iron mace, he hooked onto the large spider ad began his journey onto it, before finding an acsses hatch and entering the great machine. Syrath had littered his path with bodies, tearing through wiring, cogs and furnaces in order to slow and weaken the machine. Unleashing a gust of purple fire, he melted through a wall of steel and entered the primary furnace chamber.

The Hydra turns slowly to see blood reaper enter the spider's furnace chamber. Several dismembered orc corpses line the room, easily cut down by the Hydra's warp-blessed blade. One of the Hydra's hands rests withing one blazing urnace, its fire turning a sickly green hue.

"Ah Blood reaper so good of you to join us here."

Rasps the Hydra, turning back towards the fire, speaking daemon-tongue under his breath.

Tyranic pokes the undead warrior who appears to be frozen in place....

(OOC: yay!)

If Mac.Tombs not going to show, just kill him. It's killed the RP.

That.

One more day. I will give him that. Then my blade will destroy him.

Good plan.

The undead lord moved forwards with lightning speed and prescision but Tyranic was faster. And stronger. He caught the thrust of the undead blade with his own and brought tremendous force down upon the wapon, snapping it cleanly in twain. His next thrust desintegrated the lords skull.

Yay!