Festermould's last yowl echoed through the valley as he disappeared back to his Father's realm. The remaining plaguebearers led by Bladderpimple and Bowelrot gave chase to the fleeing elves, angered by the cowardly spear-thrust that finally spelt their leader's demise.
As the winds of Chaos shifted again, the Throne of Skulls shook with the power that surged through it. Khorne's baleful eyes flared red and he bellowed a name... the name of the Fallen, the Disfavored, the Crazed, the Wingless. From the Blood God's Realm, a spirit of pure rage moved, moved to the portal from which the multitudes of daemons poured into the world.
***
On the defiled land of Tor Annon, a red-black hoof stepped through the malevolent tear in reality. It's first step burned the ground, and the trees and rocks screamed their despair to their guardian elves, now few in number and mustering at a point further from the battle that the vanguard of the relief force had just retreated from.
The titanic Greater Daemon strode to the head of the assembled army. The daemon horde had finally completed its crossing. Then, the Bloodthirster roared, roared the eternity of rage, all the tearing, gouging, shredding of all time past, present and future. The gathered daemons raised the call, the call for blood... Blood for the Blood God!
1 comment:
hahaha... sounds scary!
We'll fight till the end!
Waaagh!!!
Red eye? Sore eyes ah, then better Attn C home... hehehe
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