Warhammer competiton, STORY entries

[Jupitus]

Please post your story entries in this thread, not forgetting the rules

Contest is only open to European residents
Entrants must be over 18
All submissions must be your own work and must not have been published
elsewhere previously
You agree that by submitting your entry that Goa has the right to
republish it and reuse it however they choose
There are two categories, stories and art. You may not enter the same
category more than once per site.
No piece may be submitted to more than one site
To receive your prize you must have an account on the European beta
centre (Warhammer Online : Age of Reckoning)
Members of the gaming press or games industry professionals may not enter
Last date for entries is noon GMT on the 17th March 2008, entries
submitted after this time will not be considered
Judging will take place by a panel of fansite admins and Goa staff
across all sites.
Each site has 6 guaranteed beta spots to give away (three in each
category). There are 10 additional beta spots in total for the best
runners up.
In case of any dispute, the decision of the organisers (Goa) is final.

[Redderz]

Preparation

Short Story by Andrew Redmond

Lost winds bellowed through the soaking planes and marshes, littering them with the stench of defeat and bloodshed. The distant calls for relinquishment would no longer fall on hero's ears but too only those already cursed to never breath again.


No shields, swords or majesty could restore this ever more likely graveyard, as hordes continued to march forward swaying in the breeze to the sound of wooden drums and roars, they were finished here.... nothing was left, not even a single tear of blood to roll from an open wound, these grounds would echo in silence forever more.


These hordes I speak of were like no other, tales of armies larger than the eye could see, vaster than one man ever could imagine, those who felt brave enough to speak of them would no longer be known as brave, a much more adapt name would be fell to those men.... dead.


As time grew older the people of order started to misplace their lands moving further and further from what they once knew, where they once lived. No miracles could save these men and women, not even the gods themselves would attempt to stop such a relentless force of nature, these were hard times, with even worse times to come.


I can only hope the Order are prepared for what can only described as hell on earth, pray now young Order as you're time is ever nearer.


The Hordes of green and black will soon be upon you're every breath, there shall be no place to hide, no place to confide, run you shall, but be found you will.

WAR is Coming....

Are You Prepared?....

[Theow]

Improbable Assult

Karak Eight Peaks. It rose with his vision and silhouetted the darkening sky, a brilliant flash of steel, iron and stone. A fortress, swelled with the ranks of more Dwarves than you could care to count if you had the time. An impenetrable stronghold. Or so they had thought
Throak Anvilsplitter stared from across the valley at the behemoth twin peaks that jutted from the structure, a towering monument to Dwarven achievement and culture which should have invoked pride, left only a bitter taste in his mouth.


“Filthy green rats…it ain’t right what’s happened… dy’e ken?’


Dalim. Throak was only dimly aware of his words; they seemed to be drowned in the endless chasm which separated him from his home, lost on the bitter Northern wind which swept about their ragged cloaks and bit at their exposed faces.


‘Oy, you listenin’…?’


‘Aye I hear ye, ye ginger bastard’ Throak shot back.


‘Oh aye, getting offensive are we? I happen to ken fer a fact yer wife loves me beard…’ Dalim’s serious expression cracked into a mischievous grin, Throak had seen it before.


They joked. It helped, he supposed, before battle.


Dalim, himself and a score of other younger lads had made it this far, conquering the surrounding mountain ranges, rife with dangers themselves. They had faced relentless opposition from the start; scouts, devious goblins and fearsome orcs standing three times as high as any of his tallest kinsmen. How many of these Greenskin he had killed, Throak knew not; only that he was sure it was not enough


He inspected his hammer. It had lost some of its shine since they had set out from Karaz-a-Karak; bloodied by the skulls of Greenskins who’d had the gall to stand in his way. Nevermind, he mused, it didn’t need to be shiny, just heavy; which it was. He allowed himself a smile. There was a certain charm to his weapon of choice; intricately designed patterns snaked their way across the handle towards his hands. The solid block of steel set atop it reflected his grizzled features, scarred from many years of his favourite hobby- grudge resolving.


From the corner of his eye, still focused upon the stronghold of Karak Eight Peaks, he saw Dalim draw his weapon from his back, checking the balance, meticulously inspecting the keen edge of his axe. Slightly obsessive over his weapons, Throak thought, then again, your weapon was the only thing that separated you from your death...that and your wits.


Throak glanced at Dalim up and down, geared in finest Gromril armour, ornate and dazzling; he was a useful bugger on the battlefield, worth at least five of his own with an uncanny ability to take a knock over the head and still smash the offending Orc’s head in.


‘What you starin’ at then, boy?’ Dalim said as he noticed Throak admiring the impressive stature the armour gave him.


‘I can hardly help but look at ye, ye shiny bugger’


‘Smart arse…what do ye say we settle some grudges then, Anvilsplitter?’


‘Ye've got Oath’s to settle Dalim? Now that’s a keen surprise; I didn’t think yer even write 'em down...'



Dalim cracked into deep, throaty laughter the joking definitely helped, but then fell silent as his gaze, like Throak’s, settled again on the majestic fortress.


Though neither showed it, nor did their kinsmen, yet they realised the near-impossible scale of their proposed assault. The darkening sky cast deep shadows across Karak Eight Peaks which stretched across the valley, dimming the remaining sunlight; even now the ready glint of Orcish blades reflected from the high walls of their once proud city, debased by Greenskin presences, foul and coarse. The darkness which now enveloped them, cast a cold aura of uncertainness around the band of Dwarves, standing rebelliously against the arctic winds.


‘ALRIGHT YE BASTARDS! GET DOWN THERE, KILL SOME GREENSKIN, AND SETTLE SOME O' YER GRUDGES!’ Dalim yelled into the wind, not once looking back as he charged down the valley; a roar building in his throat.


With a deafening roar, which Throak found his own voice lost within, the rest of the band followed him down; their steely resolve set against the flashing glints of Orcish steel. Only one thought ran through Throak’s mind as he rushed headlong into the sea of green and grey brandished with keen edges; he’d at least settle a lot of Grudges…or die trying.

[Binky the Bomb]

Story Submission: A Tale of Old
Told by Kharis Durak of the 'Blazing Hammer' Guild.

"Sat in the middle of Black Fire Pass, I sat, exposed and huddled near the fire I had made, as the dark, cold night had closed in around me. The bitter cold was like a knife across my skin, so it was useful that I wore my leather and chain mail armour. My hammer was ice cold, its mere touch was almost unbearable, but I held it close regardless.

"I had wrapped its head in dry grasses, as my father had instructed me many years ago, it kept it warm, after a fashion, and would become a fine torch should I need it. I had set out with others, but was now alone in the night, vulnerable and worried, nursing my hammer like I would a child."

Snickering from those sat around the fire snapped Kharis out of his memory. At least a dozen humans, dwarfs and three elves sat, huddled together for extra warmth against the bitter cold. It was daytime, but the pass still looked imposing and out of place. The vegetation was too dense, huddled towards the sides of the pass, only the most basic of grass dared grow here. Legends had it as a regular route for giants, when their kingdom spread across the face of the world, before their fall and decline, the greenery would take thousands of years to regrow, if ever.

"I've done many jobs over my life, I've killed in the wastelands, mined in the mountains to the north, braved darker place than this, and even delivered two babies during the siege of Middenheim. Stop giving me that look, it was a task that needed doing, I was tasked to hold the temple and guard the people huddled their. A woman was in labour, and the mid-wife had been injured, she needed help, and I was the only one available to assist. As swordsmen fought in the doorways, I helped deliver the... twins I think the woman called them. I tell you, holding both of those boys as they came out, I felt pride and a warm feeling inside. Was a good feeling mind you, strange, but good... holding my warhammer that first night in the pass, it felt the same.

"It was close to midnight when I heard the war horns, and the inevitable thuds of the heavy green skinned brutes approaching from the darkness. The guttural grunts of the foul beasts could be heard as they moved along the pass, and they moved in closer, their foul stench could be detected long before they came into view.

"Course, I couldn't see them too well, as the blindfold I was wearing cut out all the light. Old dwarf trick, blind fighting. My Da had trained me well, sparing in the deep caves of Barak-Varr, devoid of light and with deep booming echo's, perfect for honing your skills for night fighting. As they walked up right to the fire, they had lost their night vision, and lost any advantage in numbers they may have had against my group.

"Aye, I said group... I volunteered to sit out an be bait for an ambush. The plan is as old as the guild, draw out the wandering orc's with a bright fire, and lure them to their deaths. Whilst I sat waiting, my mates and my Da sat in the undergrowth, waiting for the foul beasts, and circling around their rear. Aye it was a grand slaughter, I PLUNGED my hammer deep into the fire, turning my weapon into the symbol of our guild, swinging it in upwards, breaking their leaders jaw, whilst my second swing dug deep into his throat, crushing his wind-pipe and breaking his thick neck.

"I ducked down, as I had been told to, and several dozen bolts and arrows flew through the air, digging deep into their flesh and killing many at the back instantly. As the beasts turned to meet the new enemy, I got up and swung again and again, maybe slaying at least three or four of them.

More snickering, and from an elf, drew him out of the happy memory. "What!?"

"A mere three or four? Surely you had taken down three of four score of them surely? You are, after all, the great warrior." From one of the three elves, one of the two males he assumed.

"Now then lass." The smirk drained from the elf's face "Oh, sorry, one of the blokes then? Its so hard to tell, what with you being a member of a traitorous, beardless race. At least the humans can grow some fuzz, and have some dress sense about them, much better that the white frocks your wearing." Laughter from those sat around, and a high pitched giggle from the only female present, the third elf. She was the one with the axe, and the giant white cat, he'd have to remember that in future.

"Now then, If I wish to embellish a story, I'll be drinking heavily, and the tale will be a damn site taller, mark my words. No, that night, I killed only a few of them, as my group loosed one last volley into the orc ranks, before charging in, hammers swinging and digging deep into their targets, breaking bones and tearing muscles. A luck few managed to break open the thick orc skulls and showering themselves with gore and what littel brains the green skins had to offer.

"It was grand carnage, and in less than ten minutes, we stood victorious over the dead,and dying, as well as one prisoner. He had no kneecaps left, and one arm was broken in three places, but he was alive. We then built the funeral pyre and shoved the dead bodies inside, I tell you orcs may not burn easy, but they do burn. Can't use em for kindling, but that's what pure alcohol is for, which is why your all sitting on bails of wood. The wood round here isn't great for building bonfires, so its best to bring your own, as experience has taught me.

"Once the pyre was set, we laid out old Thorbreks body, and placed him on the top, carefully making sure he had his hammer with him. He was the previous leader of the guild, and it was his right to be sent beyond in the traditional manner, on the field of battle that bonded our two races, and the birthplace of our guild. Once he was set, we doused the bodies in fire, and set light to it, sending him on his way to what lays beyond.

"Every fire years, recruits get blooded right here, on this field of battle. Our families have made up the guild for over two thousand years, and aside from our pointy eared fellows here, our ancestors have always served with honour against the dark hordes, whoever they may have been. And tonight, you finish your training. Glory or death awaits, you survive, your worthy, you die, your not. However, if you do die here, you WILL burn atop the fire, I guarantee that.

He waited whilst his words sank in, and the bitter wind picked up speed, making everyone shiver.

"Right, Get that wood stashed, except that small pile I hauled up, were using that as our signal fire. Once were set-up, we'll find some good spots to bunk down in the brush, and then we'll wait till night fall. If anyone wants to volunteer for being bait, then make yourself known BEFORE night is upon us, as you'll be sat out for a few hours on your own. Okay then, bums up and get moving. NOW."

As the now slightly panicked group began to hastily move about, stepping on each others toes and tripping over each other, Kharis marvelled at the last three times he had taken new recruits out to the pass for initiation. The way the recruits always managed to look like some copper piece comedy performance act as they tried to deal with what lay ahead, the words he had spoken, and the tasks at hand. Add the elves into the mix and it was all he could do to not laugh out loud in joy, especially as the loud mouth tripped over the giant cat that belonged to the female, and it bit him in the backside.

Elves in the guild, he thought, what had the world come to. Mind you, we did aid them during the raids on the shipping lanes, sinking several dark elf raiders and corsairs. Those had been good years as a sailor, he mused, as he had set forth on-board the guild Ironclad, the "Valayas Wrath" and put the fear of the dwarfs back into the dark heart of chaos. His chest swelled with pride at the memory of many a dark elf drowning, or blasted apart by cannon fire, or shot as he feebly tried to cling to the metal hull of the proud ship.

These were the sons and daughter of some of the captains of ships they had saved. And these three has pledged to join the ranks of the guild, so far managing to live long enough to make it here, to this hallowed place. If they survived the night, then they would be fully fledge members of the Blazing Hammers, which would be a problem within itself. Many viewed the elves with mistrust, and he had been amongst their number at first. They had been with them only a few weeks, and had been trained well, despite having no real life experience in war and combat.

Still, If they joined, the guild would be split, divided for the first time in its history, and all because there race had not been present to fend off the green skinned menaces, and held firm against the hordes of chaos, instead running away to their island paradise to suck on their thumbs. Their membership would be a insult in the eye's of many, and most believed they would turn tail and run at the first suicidal defence against impossible odds. Kharis remembered browning his leather slacks the first time he'd done so, he could and would forgive anyone for doing so their first time out.

Still it worried him, Eikinskaldi, the current leader of the guild would be under pressure by the rest of the guild to do something with them, preferably far away. That meant the Empire, as the chaos forces once more marched upon the lands of men, which also meant he would be stuck with them once more. He had planned to take a battle force north, and aid the humans against the foul taint of chaos that blew in from the northern wastes. If the elves had to join him, he'd be stuck for further volunteers, but if that was the way the winds of fate blew, then he'd have to make do... he always had done in the past.

"Sir, we're ready." Said the youngest recruit, a teenage human called Barrus. To work then.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The trip back to Barak-Varr took at least a week of hard marching, having first to board a merchant barge, as the hold only entrance was through the docks, its cavernous opening dwarfing any and all ships that entered, from the steel ships of the dwarfs to the massive war galleons of the empire. As they disembarked, they were met by the elders of the guild, and by his old friend, the current leader, Eikinskaldi. He remained silent till the recruits, elves and all, left the boat and headed inside before speaking.

"They all survived?" Asked Eikinskaldi.

"Aye."

"Good."

More silence.

"Did well, killed a nice size of group. Pyre went well."

More silence, as all looked to their leader expectantly.

"We'll be setting out for the Empire in two days time, have the recruits and any volunteers ready by then." He said, reluctantly.

"We?"

"I'll be leading the expedition. Your coming with me, as are a few of the guild masters. We'll be aiding our brothers up north, and we'll need our best equipment. Bring your tools with you."

He left, taking several of the guild heads with him, and he guessed they were his supporters on the council, and therefore heading north with them. Those that remained had yet more to say.

"The recruits you take with you are YOUR responsibility. They are yours to train further, to guide, and to lead to there deaths." The pause couldn't have been more pregnant without a woman present "Make sure they DO die well." From Hadrid Copperforge, chief artisan of the guild.

"Were my Da here, you would not treat them with such disrespect, and you certainly would not be requesting that, like some silver tongued Envoy. And lets not split hairs here, your asking to be rid of them, despite the fact they passed out trials and tests. They are Hammers now... don't forge that. If they die, they still go into the book of the fallen, I'll see to it."

"They are elves, they will betray you!"

"Like your doing to them, no doubt. Sure their brash and cocky, and will probably get killed in some stupid way, as is the way of all youth. But if they do, then so do we all, together. Your name is now a grudge upon my lips." He let the words sink in, and the look on Hadrid's face changed instantly "I will meet my fate on the field of battle, may you meet your in your bed."

He left the group as they began to bicker. It was a sad fact that he was now the Lore keeper of the guild, and the principal trainer for the last thirty years. he had much support, and all he had to do was mention the grudge aloud to the guild, and Hadrid's days were numbered on the council. He would not however, he'd let the words stew and let them eat away at the elder. It would be disrespectful to confront him, despite his actions, he was still an elder, and his fathers closest friend. No, he'd let it stew, and let him retire, honour intact, the other council members would not dare breath a word of this.

Now he had just one last task to perform. Deep in the bowels f the ancient hold, he sat in front of the Great Book of the Blazing Hammer.

Let he who is recorded here be now and forever more be honoured and remembered. May they be the eternal light in the darkness, may evil know fear before them.

Thousands of names adorned the pages of the great tome, and it took him many minutes to find the most recent pages. He carefully marked down each and every name carefully, placing his mark against each entry, before coming to his three elven recruits. He paused for a few moments, as the magnitude of what he was about to do suddenly weighed upon him. He only hoped his ancestors understood and forgave him, or at least understood what he now did, and prayed he was doing the right thing.

With a careful and practised hand, he entered his name against theirs, as witness to there initiation. It was done, from here on in, there fates were his. He only hoped he could do right by them. He left the chamber, and sealed it with the heavy iron key, turning to be greeted by his friend and leader.

"Hadrid will join us up north, he'll be bringing some of our veterans with him." And before he could reply, Eikinskaldi turned and left, a sly smile upon his lips. It seemed his ancestors approved after all.

~Fin?~

[wutae]

Story Title : For WAR
Author : Panagiotis Patestos "nicknamed" wutae/kynoko/beelzeboul



This story begins many years before, at the dark ages of a world unknown to us. There, two little friends, playing around inside a cave have a little argument. Both of them are from the race of orcs.

The first one with a skin as green as the grass, and dirty as much as it can be , is complaining to the other one.

“It can’t be! These filthy humans, coming to our lands, killing our families, stealing our gold” pointing his right hand towards his friend.

At the very end of his hand, there is another orc, used to his friend reactions pushes away gently his friend’s hand .

“Get used to it, they are humans, they like to grow , even if they are claiming that they are coming here to our lands to clear it from the barbaric hordes of orcs, the very true reason is that they need that experience so they can grow up and win this three way fight they have at their homelands.”

Anxiety feeling his friend, he laughs.

“You will see! Time shall change, there will be a time where their enemy shall be us!”

Years has passed, the Age of reckoning came, the orcs rebelled against humans, and mostly against Dwarves. Orcs managed to develop their own language, and even if it is very close to the human language they are happy for their development .

At the middle of the battlefield the two friends meet again after many years of combat training.

The dirty full of anxiety orc greets with a great voice his friend .

“’ello me old friend! Long time no see. HA! you see? Afta all dese yearz we managed to be da onez to fight!” says, holding a dull sword at his right hand ready to cut a rope, that holds a strange wooden structure that his friend is on it.

“yeah, you were right, but i still don’t get it, why i am on dis catapult, ready to get launched towardz da ’umie wall.”

After two seconds of silence, the orc swings and cuts the rope activating the catapult, and with a roar both of them yell.

“FOR WAAARRRRRRRRR”

[Mcflury]

Story submission: First day of training
A tale by Pieter Tack

‘Thwock!’
The dry sound of an arrow burying itself into wood filled the morning air of the training ground. Aragnafor had only yesterday gotten his first bow. Behind Aragnafor his trainer was watching the progress of his pupil.
‘Thwock!’
‘A Shadow Warrior never misses, he cannot afford to do so!’ the trainer said. ‘When the time comes, you’ll most likely only have the time to shoot one arrow at Malekith!’
Aragnafor had been training since the sun had risen, which wasn’t all too long ago, but he lost count on how many times he had heard that phrase already.
‘Thwock!’
‘Miss an arrow at that time, and the shame of our people will live on still, just because you didn’t train hard enough!’
There was no fibre in Aragnafor’s body that doubted that sentence. The honour of his people, it was after all the main reason Aragnafor chose to become a Shadow Warrior.
‘Thwock!’
‘Do not ever think though, youngling, that the bow alone will keep you alive! The bow is the weapon that will restore our honour, but it is no magical horse that will bring us right in front of Malekith!’
Aragnafor felt like turning around and scream ‘I’m not dense, you know?!’, but he knew all too well such an act of disrespect would make sure he could never become a Shadow Warrior. Even though his trainer had been repeating the same sentences over and over and Aragnafor’s head felt like bursting, such a risk was just not worth it.
‘Thwock!’
‘No, you’ll need other skills besides the bow too! You need to be stealthy at all times! The shadows are your friends – raise that elbow!’
Quickly Aragnafor brought his elbow up. This constant firing of arrows was tiring, especially because the bowstring was so tense, but he well knew that was necessary to be able to pierce the heavy armour the enemy was using.
‘Thwock!’
‘You’ll also need your sword skill, for when the somewhat more intelligent enemy – rare as they may be – closes distance with you and chooses to fight toe to toe your bow won’t cut it – literally.’
That had always been a concern for Aragnafor. Sure, he knew how to hold a sword, but he was no hero at it. More likely he would just run away when an enemy tried to reach him, seeking cover in the shadows, only to bring that enemy down later.
‘Thwock!’
‘Another skill you’ll need is, quite obvious, skill in battle! You need to know where to strike when in order to tip a fight in our advantage. If you bring that elbow down again you’ll feel the flat of my blade!’
Startled Aragnafor shook his body into the correct stance. This time he hadn’t even noticed his elbow dropping. His muscles were also starting to burn, some rest would be welcome. Off course, he knew all too well what his trainer would think of that.
‘Thwock!’
‘You’ll also need perseverance! In the heat of the battle there is no rest! There is only blood, pain and death! Only you, your allies and the enemy!’
It was almost as if his trainer had simply read Aragnafor’s mind, which only made sure Aragnafor gained even more respect for his veteran trainer.
‘Thwock!’
‘Another thing you’ll need to learn is how to craft a bow! Many Shadow Warriors think it’s unnecessary, but they’ve most likely never set foot on a big battleground!’
Aragnafor had heard the story of his trainer, whose bow got crushed once by a magic attack in the heat of battle. Quickly his trainer had crafted a new bow from materials he found in a small forest not too far from the battlefield, only to return shortly after to shoot an arrow through the enemy’s leader’s head.
‘Thwock!’
‘Clang!’
The sound of iron touching iron, a bright light filled Aragnafor’s eyes.
‘I told you what would happen if you lowered that elbow again!’ He heard some disappointment in his trainer’s voice, but also a lot of understanding.
‘Fix up that wound underneath your helmet, which is, by the way, also a skill you’ll need: first aid. We’ll continue your training when the sun is at the south-east.’ After that his trainer walked away. Aragnafor shrugged. It’s not as if anybody ever said becoming a Shadow Warrior was easy. Moaning he took off his helmet, noticed some blood on his fingers after he touched his hair.
‘Ugh. And how exactly is it possible Malekith is still alive, with badass trainers like this?’ Aragnafor silently asked himself, wandering off to find some bandages and rest.

[Cerbos]

The Ceremony

[FONT=Arial]I woke up to the sound of the drums, knowing that I was in trouble.
I stood up and carefully I started to hobble silently through the crowd.
Some of them were looking at me but I tried to avoid looking in their eyes.
Suddenly, I heard voices, they were talking about me.
I started to walk faster but still I tried to remain unseen by the guards.
In my head I spoke to my self and I said: “Soon, soon I’ll be home”.
After a while I was getting close to the guard towers on the left side of the arena.
I broke out in a cold sweat, this was it, everything or nothing.
I grabbed my amulet and walked straight towards the exit.
But then an orc , one of my “friends” from the past, came close from behind, he was wielding a great sword.
Since I was behind the crowd I held my dagger close to my waist and hoped for the best.
I prayed to the gods for strength but then the orc went past me, my knees were still shaking.
I was right next to the exit and I had to get out without having the guards attention.
I took a final look at the “stage”, the enormous axe wielded by the terrifying executioner gave me chills.
This was my act, so I had to flee before it was show time.
I started to walk through the exit and I kept walking faster and faster until I heard loud voices far from behind.
I stopped to see what it was that those awful creatures had done.
I looked and I saw that the whole crowd had seen me, the guards started to walk slowly towards me.
I got scared, really scared, so I started to run as fast as I could but then I felt something hitting me harder and harder from behind.
I tripped and then everything went black.
I was free, free from this pain and sorrow.
So now I’m here where I truly belong, among the people I’ve slaughtered.
Where I shall seek forgiveness.[/FONT]

[alaursen22101]

[FONT=Times New Roman]A dwarf commander preparing his troops for battle.[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman]“There will be blood” says a commander to his men. “But the blood that will be shed, will be of those who do not fight for justice.” “It will be the blood of those wretched Orcs who have been fighting with our ancestors for centuries!” “But this, soldiers is the final battle.” “And yes it is true, we are far outnumbered.” “The Orcs have an estimated 560,000 men.” “However we have 370,000 devoted dwarves who will fight until the bitter end!” “The Orcs believe they have completely destroyed the dwarf race, and that this is simply the final touch of their victory.” “Many of our men will die but we will not surrender our lives, we die with honor!” “We will fight until our hearts beat no more!” “Then you shall truly rest in peace.” “And those of you who do come out alive, it is your job to lead the new generation, to take back the land that the Greenskins have stolen from our people.” “It is your job to create the new empire, to lead our people to prosperity.” “Good luck men and may the gods be with you.”[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman]thank you for reading.[/FONT]

[alaursen22101]

[FONT=Times New Roman]A dwarf commander preparing his troops for battle.[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman]“There will be blood” says a commander to his men. “But the blood that will be shed, will be of those who do not fight for justice.” “It will be the blood of those wretched Orcs who have been fighting with our ancestors for centuries!” “But this, soldiers is the final battle.” “And yes it is true, we are far outnumbered.” “The Orcs have an estimated 560,000 men.” “However we have 370,000 devoted dwarves who will fight until the bitter end!” “The Orcs believe they have completely destroyed the dwarf race, and that this is simply the final touch of their victory.” “Many of our men will die but we will not surrender our lives, we die with honor!” “We will fight until our hearts beat no more!” “Then you shall truly rest in peace.” “And those of you who do come out alive, it is your job to lead the new generation, to take back the land that the Greenskins have stolen from our people.” “It is your job to create the new empire, to lead our people to prosperity.” “Good luck men and may the gods be with you.”[/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman]thank you for reading.[/FONT]

[Oskorei]

Two Orcs are sitting on a treelog in the forest.

"Zab-zab." says one Orc to the other.

"Dabu!" replies the other Orc.

"Kek!!" they both screamed while rolling over the floor.

~Fin~

[peeley]

Silence. Where had they gone? Rain smashed against my breastplate and diluted my tattered, blood-stained boots. Sun light pierced the gray clouds, shining spot lights onto no more than carnage, sorrow and death. The once grassy high lands now littered with the burdens of war, scarring the region. A mixture of blood and sweat rolled down my cheeks, i was injured, a blow to the head left me in no shape to fight. I looked around for any sign of life, my squad, my comrades, my friends. Who won the battle? Thoughts raced at a thousand miles an hour, crashing against the inside of my concussed brain. Blurred vision. Nothing was defined, just hazy. Colors clashed, confusing my eyes. When I took a deep gulp of air, smoke choked my lungs leaving me breathless, spluttering and gasping for oxygen. The unwanted burning stench refused to leave my sense of smell, at least it covered the scent of rotting flesh. It was hard to tell the difference between the flies and the bits of ash dancing through the air, landing softly without sound. I tried to get to my feet, using my arm to prop myself up, only for it to buckle underneath the sheer weight of my armor. I started to lose my bearings. Was this it? The end? I mumbled my final words of prayer to Sigmar, he would guide me to the light, my faith gave me hope. I lay back onto the blood spattered ground and closed my eyes. "I'm done" i thought. The rain stopped, the wind no longer blew, divine peace... at last.


Thanks for reading.

[Gorkus]

Gorkus - The Flood

The sun is out at its highest peek and the land around looks so lushes and green, the where a bouts are unknown and the time hardly remembered but still the birds sing and the wind blows. Yet within the distance the sounds of barbaric aggression are getting stronger.

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!" shouted the thousands of rampaging orcs charging towards the Empire dock like a green flood. Sounding like a herd of giants the orcs shook the ground as they charged without fear.
"Move out me way" Gorkus shouted as he pushed the Orc in front of him to floor in an attempt to gain speed only to watch him get crushed under the feet of everyone else.

The Dock was made up of several large buildings a harbour with several fisher boats and some out of service military ships. By this stage all of the Civilians had ether got away by boat or where left to hide in there homes hoping to be saved.

But the humans where ready and had been given a short warning of this attack, several hundred empire musket men held the line ready to open fire with a few hundred more spear men kneeled down in front of them.
"When I give the Orders" shouts out A Warrior Priest who is stood right behind the Musket men. The Priests armour was expertly crafted and had a hammer symbol indented into his harness. He held a Large Hammer which he rose high in the air, so polished that the glare from the sun could be seen by the orcs as they charged in.

"Gorkus dats im, I wants is skull" Mobrilock shouts to Gorkus as he points towards the Hammers flash.
"Not if I beat ya to im" Gorkus replied as he started to pick up speed within the ranks.
As there erg for a fight builds up inside them Gorkus and Mobrilock could be seen pushing through the Orc ranks not caring in the slightest for those in front of them.

Patiently the Humans waited as they picked their targets each hoping that their shot would kill something, "Fire!" the Priest shouted with a prolonged tone as he pulled down his hammer and, from that the bullets from hundreds of guns came shooting towards the orcs ripping through the front ranks killing most hit and wounding others. One bullet hit Gorkus in the left shoulder but not causing him to stop or even slow down, Gorkus's anger started to fuel more as his rage showed he Roared to the top of his voice.

"Reload" the Priest shouted to the men, with in seconds they had reloaded their Muskets and where ready again. Waiting for their leaders command they patiently looked down the sights and aimed at the Orcs.
"Fire" the men shot for a second time again taking out multiple ranks of Orcs, but yet they seemed to pick up speed and where getting closer by the second. "Take arms" the Priest shouted and the men chucked their muskets to the floor pulling out their swords. The spear men tightened up the ranks and stood their shields strongly together with the swords men behind them pushing on them for balance.

With a loud clash the front ranks of the Orcs smashed amongst the Empire shields and the men struggled to keep balance, with that Empire spears came out of small holes within the shields straight through the Orcs on the other side. This continued for several minutes as Orcs continued to get skewered. Seeing this Gorkus had other plans he linked with Mobrilock and when he got to the front ranks he climbed on top of the Orcs and jumped over straight into the middle of the Empire.

Crunch, this was the sounds of the unlucky men beneath Gorkus and Mobrilock as their body’s were crushed by the weight. Standing up they turned and now looked to the back of the spear men "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh" Gorkus screamed and a Empire soldier turned in fear only to receive a vicious blow to the face with Gorkus's axe. The Empire men, scared to death broke their ranks and the Greenskin flood was let to smash straight through it. Chaos had broken out and the Empire stood no chance, men where getting chucked about like rag dolls by the Strength of the Orcs.

A few meters back the Warrior Priest could be seen chanting words of old "Aliquam delenit enim nostrud duis vulputate vel aliquip suscipit amet eum erat at autem eros". After shouting these words aloud the Priest went into some sort of frenzied attack running towards the Orcs with many of his men running in the other direction towards the Harbour. Straight into the Flood he ran, with a smash of his hammer straight into a large orcs face killing him outright. Orc after Orc challenged the Priest and each in turn was seen out of this life and forced into the next. Mobrilock went with most of the Orcs straight towards the Harbour chasseing those who retreated, but Gorkus waited and watched the Priest smash through all those who apposed his precious Sigma.

Stood their in the middle of what was the battlefield Gorkus and this Priest stared at each other uneasily, "Meze gunna rip of ya head and wear it for all to see" Gorkus taunted only to hear the Priest start to chant once more. "Lorem hendrerit eu vero augue......" Not letting him finish Gorkus ran and smashed the Priest in the stomach with his shoulder, raising him into the air only to come crashing down on his back. Then waiting no time at all Gorkus turned and jumped on him, ripping his head off his shoulders with his teeth tearing through his thought.

As Gorkus stood up with the Priests head in his hands he could see flames rise from the Dock and the screams of men and women fill the air.
"Ize aint missing all da fun" Gorkus said to him self as he shoved the head on a spike and began to run swiftly off towards the Dock.

[teasing1]

[FONT=Times New Roman]- Gloooryyy!, the captain shouted out so loud the men in the first rank [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]felt the hair raise on their arms and blood run warm in their veins.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]- Eternal glory awaits today!, the captain continued as she got the [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]attention from all who could hear her.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]- If you see the horde of corrupted souls amassing on the hill do not tell[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]me you feel fear!, the captains scream pierced even the men shielded by [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]layer after layer of steel.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]- Fear is something we do not feel today, fear is something we left [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]behind, something we have forgotten all about!, she could see the men [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]believe. She felt their belief vibrate more than the ground she stood on.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]- Now! Show these abominations what the Empire is capable of! [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]Make them remember this day!, she turned and faced the doom [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]that waited. She knew what would come this day, she knew stable [/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]boys and tavern keepers couldn’t win today. But she also believed.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman]- Forward! For the Empire![/FONT]

[Talivar]

I cant win since im in beta but thought id enter just for fun


A Cruel Fate

Keeping low to the ground he darted from shadow to shadow as he weaved his way deeper into the forest. Desperation and fear were all that had kept him ahead of the pack of creatures that doggedly stalked him. Breath began to come in short sharp gasps as his lungs almost screamed in protest. He knew he had to stop soon but images of his mother being torn apart by the smaller louder creatures in the pack filled his mind and told him simply.. to stop is to die. Seeing heavy foliage ahead he knew he had almost reached the denser and deep part of the forest. To reach the safer part of the woods he would need to cross a large empty space of ground and that would risk being seen. As if sensing his dilemma silence descended upon the forest. Knowing his time was short and that indecision could prove fatal he leaped up and across the clearing, pushing himself hard he sprinted for the beckoning shadows of safety. A smile began to form on his face, only to be wiped off as something heavy crashed into his back and knocked him to the floor.
Sharp teeth tore into his flesh as he screamed in agony and struggled to get free. Cruel laughter alerted him to the presence of a group of the larger creatures as they watched with cruel sinister smiles on their faces. Talking to each other in their own foul bestial language making wild gestures at him as he lay there being torn to shreds.
What God could create such monsters and let them do this?
He would never find an answer to this or any question as he died there alone surrounded by monsters in a world he never understood.

Whistling for his dog to stop Omar the ranger walked forward to examine the small beastman they had finally caught. The world would be a safer place now this evil and foul beast had been slain.

[igniuxas]

A day day in the greenskins city.
One greenskin spots a dwarf skelleton on the wall and starts to "KeK!"
Other greenskin:
- Yer, Wha's so funny?
The other greenskin:
- Look , an dwarf , KEK!
The other greenskin says:
- That was your ansester!