[WHF] Karak Kazad

[Ossai]

Well, it seems I will have the honour of the first post here. So allow me to post up a story about short people


"Run-run, Flee-flee. That is no dwarf-thing. That is a monster!" The cry seemed to echo for an excessivly long time. The fleeing pack of skaven caused a ripple within the hoard. Spreading from that position the Skaven started to withdraw, and then all out flee.

"Pfah, foul Thaggoraki have bled on my axe. That will take weeks to clean," Thard complained.

His companion did not mention the state of his armour, but merely indicated the amount of dead rats at their feet, "Are you surprised my prince? Vermin are good for dying. Not like the old days, when we could get a good fight out of them."

Thard brought the banner hilt down, crushing the skull of one whelp that had played dead. Another figure approached them. He had immaculately clean armour, only his axe betrayed the fact that he had even been in the fight.

"Ah, my brother, been avoiding bloodshed again," Thard teased.

His brother removed his helm and looked Thard straight in the eyes. It was like looking in a mirror.

Twins were incredibly rare in dwarfen society. It was even more rare for them both to survive until Adulthood. But the two princes had beaten all the odds.

Thard relented first. He had never managed to stare his brother down despite being older by five minutes. Where Thard was loud, brash and incredibly strong his brother was quiet, calm, and calculating. No one doubted either man's combat prowess. The only one who had ever bested them in training was the old Gatekeeper. Master of the King's personal bodyguard.

"Thard, father wishes to speak with you."

"Ah, then we had better go eh?"

They set off through the dwarf throng. Not one warrior had broken in the face of the overwhelming Skaven. The seemingly endless hoard had crashed against the dwarfs like the ocean against a cliff wall. King Skorri stood on his shieldbearers and looked out over his assembled throng. The Skaven rarely did battle on the surface preferring to hit the dwarfs from below the mountains, but the Ironbreakers of Karak Kazad had bled them dry in the Ungdin that they had no choice but for an all or nothing attack on the main gates.

It was the tactical cunning of his son Tungdin, the younger of the two twins, that had allowed the dwarf army to be in the best position to fight the Skaven. The combat prowess of his other son, and the bearer of the Standard of Karak Kazad, had kept the less resolute dwarfs in check. Without either of his sons this battle may have had a different outcome.

The standard was bobbing towards him and Skorri could see his two sons walking towards him. Thard was regaling Tungdin with tadays events against the Skaven. Tungdin's face was unreadable but Skorri could see it in his eyes. He was enjoying the company of his brother despite the obvious exaggerations in his tale.

"...and then they came at me wearing their scavanged armour with their halberds. I must have killed eight of them, oh hello father. I was just telling Tungdin about the Skaven, and how soft they are," he said with a grin, "yes, I killed nine of them when they reached the lines and a further five in single combat."

"My sons, it pleases me to see both of you unharmed. Now, I have something I wish for you both to do for me."

Both the princes looked up into their fathers eyes. They were a bright green and breathed an aura of command around them. The kings face was weathered and looked like it was carved from the stones of the mountain itself. He had a long white beard and long white hair. A vivid scar that had never fully healed ran from his ear to the side of his mouth. A reminder from the battle with the daemons of the plaguefather. The dwarf was well into his five hundreth year and weould return to the stone and his ancestors soon.

"You must take some of the warriors to Zhufbar. There you will meet your uncle and aunt. They wish to speak with you both before your seventieth birthdays. That is not all though. You are to clear out a mine on the way there. It was taken by the same Thaggoraki scum we fought today, and Godri believes they were onto something when they uncovered that old Dwarf rune on the built wall. I wish to see if anything from our ancestors is there. We cannot allow it to fall into the hands of the foul rat men."

Both princes spoke at the same time. The gruff voice of Thard and the quiet but commanding voice of Tungdin, "Yes father. We will set off at once."

"Good, I look foreward to celebrating your victories when you return," he said with a twinkle in his eye that gave the impression he knew more than he was letting on.

The two princes looked at each other and set off back down the hill to gather their warriors. Thard left the standard with Gard Swifttongue, the kings personal advisor and one of his Hammerers.

[Ossai]

Gold.


Such a simple mineral and yet it held control over one of the oldest races in the old world. Dwarfs were extremely protective of their wealth. It was not greed that drove them to seek out all the dangers of the mountains for this shiny metal. It was a need.


Such thoughts came to Alaysius as he stood in the pass watching the Dwarfs march towards him. He held his ground even as the thunderers trained their sights on him and prepared to fire on the order. The chest in front of him was filled with the stuff. Its origional home was these mountains, so the Dwarfs should be happy with the gift.

"Who’s at? Name yersel or die."

It was not an empty threat, the thunderers had lowered their guns but the sergeant, evidently the best shot in the group, had not.

"I am Alaysius Hulmat Faxin, Knight of the White Wolf, here hunting for a good friend of mine. One of your kin no less, I swore an oath to hunt down the dirty animals that currently hold him hostage. You may know them. Small, green, pointy noses, and incredibly annoying”

Alaysius thought of a saying he was taughtin his childhood; “Dwarfs value three things. First: Gold, Second: Beer, and Third: Oaths. The first two can be switched though"

"Ah, a human who knows how to keep an oath. How very strange."

A single dwarf stepped out of the throng and raised his hand. Palm open. It was the signal to stand down and hold fire. This must be one of the commanding officers.

"I am Thard the Resolute. Prince, or your highness will do for now though," he had a gruff voice, and was broader than most of his race. This was not one to be underestimated.

"Ah, royalty? I am honoured," Alaysius offered his hand, which was recieved in a palm crushing grip. The look on the Dwarf's face showed one of respect. It was not often a man held his grip without crying out.

"Royalty indeed lad. I am Prince of Karak Kazad. Now come, we were going to stop here for the night anyway. You must tell me more of this oath, and show me more of that gold in the chest there," he spoke as he guided Alaysius back to the army and indecated the chest in Alaysius hand.

Alaysius removed his helm and the bemused feeling he had must have shown on his face. How could the Dwarf have known it was gold in the chest?

"I can smell it manling," came the reply to the unspoken question, an amused look on Thard's face.

"It is a gift for you, and your king. I was on my way to see him and ask for any information on recent greenskin activitiy in the area," Alaysius replied.

"Ah, then it is a good thing we found you manling. There is more than greenskins in these mountains. Thrice cursed ratmen roam the hills this night as well, anyway, come now, I need a drink."

He was guided into a tent, the look of longing on the guards faces showed they also knew what was in the chest. Their oaths of loyalty to their clan made them remember their place though, and not one gave into their lust for it.

Alaysius had been left out of the roster for sentries. Perhaps he wasn't trusted by these Dwarfs properly yet, or perhaps it was becaues they had better night vision than him. Eiher way it didn't matter. It allowed him to rest and remember his friend. Thard had allowed him a tent nearby, but a bed was unavailable. The dwarf beds being too small for a human. They are also just lumps of stone. The Dwarfs are a race that takes pride in enduring discomfort and this is shown in their beds. Little more than smoothed stone for a matress and they have gravel instead of feathers for their pillow fillings.

Alaysius had barely drifted off to sleep when he was woken again by the sounds of battle. He quickly got dressed and put his armour back on. He had his warhammer in his hand as he stepped out of his tent.

The sight before him was a mess. There were fires everywhere. The smell was incredible as well. It was a smell of unwashed bodies, blood and entrails. They were under attack, but from who.

Alaysius stopped the nearest Dwarf, "What is attacking?" he asked

"Ah, dirty Grobi scum," the dwarf spat.

Just then a goblin charged foreward, having snuck through the battle. Alaysius swung his warhammer two handed in an underarm swing that connected with the Goblin's chin. There was a loud crack and the Goblin's head came clean off, flying through the air. Its body continued foreward, not realising it no longer had a head, until it collapsed at the feet of the Dwarf.

"I never forget a face, but in your case I will be glad to make an exception" Alaysius said under his breath. He walked off towards the sounds of battle.

"Bloody 'ell," The Dwarf commented, watching the Human go for a minute before running to his position, axe raised.

Alaysius waded his way into the Goblins. The symbol on their shields was the same as that on the Goblin's that had captured Badrak, his Dwarfen friend.

That knowledge only spurred his killing rage. A rage so pure that it could only have been bourne from a deep hatred of the creatures he was facing. He brought the hammer down on a Goblin's head, smashing it open like an over ripe melon. His return swing hammered into three of the creatures, sending them over the ranks behind's heads.

He lowered his shoulder and charged into a particularly loathsome specimin. Its face snapped back as his shoulder connected and blood spurted from its nose. Alaysius used this opening to hit it in the face again with the hilt of his hammer, this time the front of its skull broke. The force of the hilt drove fragments of its skull into the Goblin's brain. It let out a last screech before it collapsed.

Alaysius was no longer being attacked. He took the time to look around. The Goblin's were slowly being pushed back. The Dwarf's may not be as fast as his own race, but by Ulric they knew what they were doing when it came to war. He could see Thard, the prince from earlier, cleaving his way through the Goblins. There were at least twenty bodies of the greenskins lying dead at his feet.

He saw a few Goblins far on the right flank break and flee. Looks like things may be looking up. Just as the Dwarfs looked set to roll up the right flank the reason for the Goblin's flight was evident. It wasn't the dwarfs.

Three trolls strode up to the Dwarf line and brought their weapons down on the heads of the Dwarfs in the front rank. Not even proper Dwarf armour could withstand the sheer strength behind those blows. The Dwarfs hastily attaked their new foe, hacking away at the feet of the trolls. Every slash was quickly healed by the powerfeul regenerative properties of the trolls.

A noise like thunder erupted from the rear of the Dwarf battle line. A blue flash could be seen heading straght for the first troll. The creature was knocked down by a force so great it was as if Ulric himself had punched it. A lump of blue-burning black metal was embedded in the skull of the troll. It hit the ground with a sound that echoed the cannon a second ago crushing some poor unfortunate Goblins as it landed. The skin around the cannonball turned black and didn't reheal.

Thats one of them out of the fight. Alaysius hurried to help his Dwarf allies fight the other two when he saw a sight that made his heart drop. One of the Dwafs in more elaborate armour was clenched in the fist of one of the trolls. He ran as fast as he could but he knew he would not make it in time. As the Dwarf was raised to the troll's mouth something hit it in the eye. It screamed and dropped the Dwarf. Alaysius looked around and saw the same sergeant from earlier, his handgun smoking, nod to the Dwarf.

Returning the greetng the Dwarf turned back to the fight. He lept onto the screaming troll and swung his axe in a downwards motion right into its head. The skin around the axe burned black just like that of the cannonball fired before. It gave a last Scream, that was more a gurgle, and then it died.

Alaysius slammed his hammer into the chest of another Goblin. It was thrown into the final troll. The beast turned its small beady eyes an Alaysius and moved towards him. "Not what I had intended, but it will still have the same end result," he mumbled to himself, readying his hammer.

The massive club came down with frightening speed. Alaysius dived to the side. Every detail was visible on the trolls hide. Its thick greasy skin. The decayed fish smell on its breath and the seaweed that clung to its back. Alaysius swung his hammer into the knee of the troll. Screaming the creature dropped, favouring its uninjured knee. Alaysius took this moment to swing his hammer into its face. It bellowed in pain and moved backwards. Its injured knee forgotten in its rage against the one who had caused it so much pain.

Its club came down again and Alaysius stepped foreward out of its attack. The club hit the earth with such force that it caused Alaysius to stumble. Steadying himself he poured all of his anger and rage into the hammer and swung it at the trolls belly. This time the hammer managed to pierce the skin. It ruptured the trolls stomach and the acid poured out. Alaysius withdrew his hammer and stepped back knowing the acidic properties of troll acid. Its stomach acid poured over the trolls insides and eroded the trolls organs faster than it could regenerate.

The pitiful creature died roaring in pain before it too collapsed. Alaysius walked over to the dead troll and wiped the hammerhead on the troll’s tattered trousers. “By Ulric, I just cleaned that hammer!”

The Dwarfs around looked at him with astonishment, before they all broke out laughing. The goblins, after seeing their “pet” trolls fall, had broken and fled. Now the dwarfs were tending to the wounded and unwinding after a battle.

“Well now manling, it seems some of us owe you more respect than you were first shown,” a voice spoke from behind. It was quiet but Alaysius still managed to make our every word. He turned to greet the one who had spoken to him and saw it was the same Dwarf who had almost ended up as a mid battle snack to the troll.

“Just doing my best to kill the dirty greenskins your highness,” he replied.

“You killed that troll...differently,”

“I try to do something new with each strike,” Alaysius grinned.

“Indeed? Come on then, I am sure Thard will wish to regale me with tales of his latest victories,” the Dwarf said, heading off in the direction of the Prince’s tent.

“Wait, you are not him?” Alaysius asked. The Dwarf he was talking to looked exactly like Thard. Alaysius had never seen anything like it before in the Dwarfs.

“No manling, I am his brother, Tungdin, now come on, I need some beer,” Tungdin guided Alaysius into the Prince’s tent.