Werewolf of Angmar
Far over the MistyMountains cold
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hey all. as i have started a Beastmen army, i thought I should come up with a story behind them. i named them 'herd of the red dawn', but it's gonna change.. anywayz, this is where i will tell you the story, what happened. (the first part is not very original though)
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It's a cold, misty morning in the Empire. Not far from Middenheim, a group of Hunters patiently wait for dawn, near the edge of the Forest of Shadows. just over 20 of the most experienced huntsmen in the Empire shuffle and stamp to keep out the chill of the early morning frost. Eyes dart across the mist-shrouded eaves of the haunted forest ahead. ever since the moon had risen, all maner of disturbing noises had been emanating from the treeline.
a horn sounded, but it was brash, deep and alien, like nothing fashioned by human hands. a moment passed, and a dark, evil-looking shape came out of the mist. 'Shaman!' whispered one of the hunters.
The creature roared. Braying, bellowing and screaming, an army of beastmen poured from the forest and kept on coming: a gnashing, seething mass of muscle, hair and pure, unadulterated hatred. it was a true vision of nightmare made real and set free upon the world. the beasts were clambering on top of each other, in their haste to rend and tear and gorge. War-chanting as he brandished tokens from stone, bone and stolen skin, the shaman stepped forward. his magic driving the thousands of roaring, screaming beasts behind him to even greater hights of fury.
The shaman roared once more, and after it came a nasty silence. he took a token, a stone with blue-glowing carvings. He quitly brayed something in daemonic language. suddenly a strong wind came up, making the scared huntsmen even more unpleased. Sounds came from the forest, as if a hundred beasts slowly moved forward, taking their steps exactly at the same time. after another roar of the shaman, the mist became thicker, making it unable for the huntsmen to see anything at all. the sound of the hoofs stopped. it was completely silent again.slowly, as the mist became less dense, the hunters saw a large shadow. a great monster in the fog. As it roared, the hunters could hear the trees moving and the birds flying away. it roared again, and at that moment, the first bit of sunlight shone upon the Beast. The huntsmen could now clearly see what was in front of them: the largest Minotaur they had ever seen. the thousands of beastmen behind him started roaring and screaming again. The shaman roared and the minotaur smashed 2 of the huntsmen at the same time. he took another one, tore off his head and ate the body. The Gors, bestigors and ungors behind him charged. within moments, none of the hunters remained, no parts of their bodies were left, every single bit was eaten.
But what the scavage beasts did not know, was that there were two more hunters hiding behind some rocks. They were trying to be as quiet as possible, but the wind was not in their favour. some ungors could smell them, for the ungors were closest to the stones. They slowly walked towards the stones, sniffing and smelling. After a few steps, did did not move anymore. they turned back and walked away. one of the hunters sneaky looked at them, walking away. 'they're going!' he whispered to his friend. they were delighted.
But out of nothing, some ungors jumped in front of them and charged, not killing the hunters, but weakening them, so they could not fight back during the ungor's torture.
only a few hours later, the massive herd arrived at their herdstone, a colosal standing stone, decorated with many carvings and runes, skins, bones, skulls and drowned in gore. All the beastmen circled around it. after a short while, every beast was standing around it, and the Shaman, the herdleader called Khaztak Shadow-Stone, stepped forward and roared. 'Pettiful humans, always trying to defeat us. They should know better, but their tiny brains won't let them! Send some Gors to Middenheim, let the humans know that this is war, and they shall not win! We will rule this Empire, the age of men is over! The time of the Cloven has come!' after this speech, the herd started roaring of excitement. But another voice shouted: 'NO!, we can not do this. These humans may seem weak, but i have fought many wars againsst them, i know their power, I have witnessed it myself! they are unstoppable! We need more men, we need our brains, we need revolutionary weapons! This is war, but with our axes, we will not win!'
Khaztak looked at the Bestigor that said this. 'Who are you to disagree?' 'Im Zearat, and i challenge you, you win, i go, but if I win, you go and this will be my herd! And i tell you this, you won't be able to use your magic in this fight, for i will defeat you, before you can say the first word of your spell!'
The fight began, thousands of roars from the side. Khaztak ignored what Zearat said, and started chanting, but before he knew it, he had a hoof in his face and he passed out.
Khaztak awoke, seeing nothing but a bright light. As his eyes got used to the light, he could see a torch burning in a small, dark room, where he lay on a soft bed. A woman came in, a fair human witch.
'Where am I? Why am i not dead?' he asked. 'Your in my sanctuary, I have been watching over you for quite a while. I know your power, I know what you are capable of when the Winds of Magic blow strongest. It would be a waste to let you die, So i helped you, I saved you from a horrible death.' she answered. 'Zearat is still alive, though. I did not want to kill him, for this sanctuary and my power, can not stand against thousands of musceled scavages.'
Khaztak stayed in the Sanctuary for nearly two weeks, ntill he was fully recovered. The witch thought him a few spells and how to acces the Lore of the Wild, a magic lore that only the most powerful Beastmen can access.
As he was just about to leave the mountain-sanctuary, the witch said: 'I bet you want vengeance on Zearat. Go South from here, where several bands of Gor and Ungor raiders live. With your power you will be able to Unite them into a warherd. And I have something for you, A scroll of Binding, this scroll can only be used on one specific creature that lives in these mountains, that few have ever seen. But do not use this, unless you are in great need of summoning this fearsome creature.'
And with those words, Khaztak Shadow-Stone leff, heading southward.
After just a short walk he reached the forest's edge. But it was quiet. Too quiet. he knew something wasn't right. He took a step forward, and another one. Right now he crossed the border between plains and forest. Something moved in the bushes left of him, and as he looked left, he got attacked from the right. a net was trown over him, but with a short spell, the net burned and Khaztak freed himself. A gor charged him with an axe, but with a magic blow, he was blown back to where he hid. Khaztak fought some more gors and ungors. But then came a stronger beast. the pack-leader. Khazak used the Viletide spell, and from everywhere, giants swarms of insects crawled everywhere around the leader. As the attacked, the Gor was helpless, he could never shake all those creeping insects and spiders off. He died, and within moments, there wasn't an animal left on the dead body. Khaztak brutally tore of the leaders right arm and began eating it. He looked around him. about 20 Gors and Ungors stared at him. 'Well, now that i'm your leader... show me your camp, give me a descent meal.' said Khaztak.
The herd lead Khaztak deep into the woods. They came across some skulls on sticks, a warning to human-hunters to stay away. Eventually they reached a small encampement. There was a small wall of stones and wooden sticks and some furs hanging over. in the middle of the camp was a firepit.
'What do you call yourself?' asked Khaztak.
'We do not have a specific name.' answered a gor. 'for we are simple raiders, outcasts.'
'Tell me,' said Khaztak. 'how many of you are there?' 'we are 15 strong..' answered an Ungor. 'Only 15? Little one, how many herds and raider tribes are there in these parts of the Forest?' 'within 10 miles, you'll find 6 small herds, all led by a gor. But there is one led by a Wargor. his followers are Bestigors, they rule this part of the woods, though they're just bullying around and sometimes killing others for some food. But like any, this Wargor will never attack a Shaman, for he does not want to be punished by the Gods.' anwered the ungor.
'I think we shoud visit our friend. I could use some bestigors, far better skilled than you pathetic ungors. Tell me, what is the name of this Wargor?' said Khaztak
'His name is Thaztar the Four-Horn' 'Warn the Gors, they're coming with me, and I do not like waiting.'
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