Forum adverts like this one are shown to any user who is not logged in. Join us by filling out a tiny 3 field form and you will get your own, free, dakka user account which gives a good range of benefits to you: No adverts like this in the forums anymore. Times and dates in your local timezone. Full tracking of what you have read so you can skip to your first unread post, easily see what has changed since you last logged in, and easily see what is new at a glance. Email notifications for threads you want to watch closely. Being a part of the oldest wargaming community on the net. If you are already a member then feel free to login now.

"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.