Game that was... Ooul's Story from Last Year.

[Challenger3333]

A bit of Fan Fiction late stages of the game... last spring, about a year ago. The Game that Was...



Ooul the Chosen wondered why he had been selected so long ago. Perhaps the Lord of Change had seen something heroic in him even when he was a simple raider on the beaches of Nordland five years ago. Yet unlike the others, he had progressed and completed the tasks set before him where so many had failed or given up. Upon his first trip to the faraway capital, the Inevitable City, he had known: someday he would be grafted into the living armor known as Warpforged. He felt it crawl upon his flesh as he cleaned the Dwarven blood from his Direblade of the Schemer.
Looking down the debris-filled alleyway leading out of the Destruction warcamp into ruined metropolis known as Praag, Ooul felt enormous pride. He felt that there was nothing that the guild could not do.
“Let us proceed forth and kill,” Ooul said to Joker, the massive Ork who was the warband’s leader. “The enemy is ripe for slaughter and my blade thirsts…”
“Wauuugh!” Joker rumbled. It was the deep, guttural-sounding war-cry that signaled the rest of the warband to assemble.
The group of them charged over the corpse-littered cobblestones toward Martyr’s Square to find the enemy and kill them.
“We must take this region away from our foes to advance our cause,” the Magus called Wheel of Misfortune proclaimed loudly, with a wry smile.
Tyknee, a muscle-bound Black Ork from far-off Mount Bloodhorn knew there were resources at Praag’s Armory necessary for the assault on the enemy keep, a stronghold referred to as Southern Garrison. “I’ll lead six of us to the Armory. Rortooz and Stufuss, come, in case Order is there.”
“Wot?” Rortooz questioned. “Big ugly boss, want to split us up?”
Stufuss, a Disciple of Khaine three-hundred-thirty years older than Tyknee, also wondered at the wisdom of breaking the warband into smaller groups. He seethed with hatred, barely controlling the immense displeasure he experienced at having an Ork give him such a disagreeable command.
They all looked to Joker for orders, for he alone was the Ork Choppa who had assassinated, struggled, and fought with both sides, Order as well as Destruction, to arise to his command. He was the Master of the Guild Legacy of Legends, respected and hated by Order.
The Ork Choppa simply nodded in the direction of Armory, sin=gnalling that Tyknee’s strategy was a required risk. Joker knew that he may well be sending six of his finest warriors to their dooms, but such was WAR.
The other twelve members of the warband continued toward Martyr’s Square. The Disciple of Khaine known to all as Fursir said, “Watch for ambushes. Intelligence says the enemy has taken Dragonwake and is in the zone here, with us.”
“Then why do you, a healer, ride so close to the tanks and I?” Joker inquired, as fury built within his sinews. He had mentioned the risks of a healer in melee to Fursir before.
Fursir was nonplussed by this—long ago he had decided that his place was near the opening clash of arms—neither Joker nor any other could keep him from bloodying his sword. Like many of the Elves in the warband they held little esteem for those who would control them, especially those of lesser races and particularly their own kind. However, all arguing was put aside for there was a dark column of smoke ahead.
Nearing Martry’s Square they saw that Order had set its resources aflame. The Destruction soldiers braced for a full-on assault—yet they found only a Knight, a Swordmaster, and an Ironbreaker. Falling upon them viciously, the Destruction team saw within its grasp the quick death of three foes, yet the great powers had long ago granted Order tanks incredible survivability. The Order soldiers held on to the last. But overwhelmed by odds, the Ironbreaker, Bullprick, was short work, and the Swordmaster, Thereasa, spun to the cobblestones in a pool of her own blood. The Knight though, about to fall beneath Joker’s blistering whirl of blades, had in mid-fight pulled from his pocket a scroll. A half-second before the Knight was slain he teleported away to the safety and comfort of Altdorf, Order’s capital.
“WHHHAATT?” Choe the Marauder shouted. “That COWARD!”
“Indeed,” Ooul said, holding his dripping weapon over the corpse of the Ironbreaker. “This has become far too common.”
“What was his name?” The Blackguard named Ardro shouted, filled with unadulterated outrage and anger bloodlust.
“Cels,”the Witch Elf Raganiuke stated. “My blades will find his heart one day. He will not escape us next time.”
Suddenly, one of the healers in the back, a zealot known simply as Darkbourne, cried out, “Help!” A Witch Hunter, one going by the ridiculous moniker of Mintchocolate, who was a well-known Order assassin, had come out of stealth behind Darkbourne. Yet the amazing heals of powerful zealot gave the warband time to react. Swinging his two-handed axe only twice, the Black Ork Blopiz nearly split the Witch Hunter in two. Stickyicky, a Squig Herder finished the job with a well-placed arrow, and Mintchocolate was struck through like a weak lace to a large needle.
“The bulk of them aren’t here…” Joker said ominously. All knew what it meant, and they quickly mounted up, having saved the resources at Martyr’s. Then, a race against time began with the twelve riding through the twisting streets and shattered buildings of Praag. If Order wasn’t at Martyr’s, they were surely at Armory…
Somehow the team that Joker had sent to Armory was still alive, but they wouldn’t be for long—unless everyone in the warband was in top form. For Lednail’s twelve-man had chosen to attack Tyknee’s six rather than give supporting efforts to the Order attack on Martyr’s. As usual the enemy was going for the quick kill rather than a balanced fight.
Juggellette saw that only her spell ‘Leaping Alteration” could save Tyknee and the others from death. But it had to have a critical success… So, with a prayer to Tchar’zanek on her lips she shook her enchanted skull and gestured with her blade.
The spell brought Stufuss and Rortooz back from the brink of death, so that they in turn could continue healing.
Tarajima and Marelfys froze the life from the Order team, even as they began to flee like rats from a sinking ship.
Tyknee spun about with his axe, and Lednail was knocked to the hard streets, losing a few more teeth in the process. The White Lion sensed her impending death and withdrew a scroll from her pouch…teleporting to safety while the rest of her team was slain to the last.
In unison, there arose a howl of triumph from the many members of the Destruction guild at Armory.
But Joker and a few of the others found little satisfaction in it.
“As I said, Joker…far too common,” Ooul commented, as dislodged the Direblade from the sundered head of a slain Bright Wizard.
Joker shrugged and threw his head back, and then he laughed loudly at the dead Order bodies. Now, Southern Garrison was ripe for the taking….

[Challenger3333]

Part 2
After flying back to Praag from Altdorf and slinking through the streets to Southern Garrison, Lednail paced back and forth nervously in the Lord’s room of the vulnerable Order keep, knowing that soon the Divinity Invictus Alliance would attack.
“So, what do we do?” Cels asked Lednail. The Knight was baffled. “I hear that the Destruction Guild Legacy of Legends has been joined by members of their Alliance, including Sluggfist, Genevieve, Gypsea the Sorceress, and the Disciple of Khaine known as Lavana!”
“We’re done for!” The seventeen-year-old Warrior Priest named Cantankthree whined in a squeaky voice. “Oh WHY did you lead us back here?”
“Be SILENT!” Lednail said in her silver-throated, cloying, command tone. “I only keep you here, Canttankthree, because you annoy them. One more peep and I shall BOOT you!”
“Yes, mistress I’m sorry, mercy, I’ll be quiet—“ Cantankthree blathered. They ignored him.
“We should take the flag to the warcamp now, Lednail, and move onward to Caledore.” Cels offered. “Otherwise we shall certainly die here!”
“NO!” Lednail shouted, momentarily losing her composure. “I mean, there will be PLENTY of inexperienced, un-guilded hangers-on for us to slay before we escape.”
An Order general who was widely known to have informants within Destruction’s fold, one who also had managed to bend the laws of physics by putting two odjira talismans in his boots said, “Perhaps I can make a suggestion… We know Divinity Invictus is here and Inquisito and their Alliance are taking Thunder Mountain. Meanwhile, we could TELEPORT into Destruction’s Dwarven Fortress, for I know of a way! We could have the Dwarven Relic in mere seconds! If you only would give me the word, Lednail—“
“Put a sock in it,” Lednail said in response. “It isn’t time yet…”
Suddenly, they heard an ear-shattering “THUMP!” While they were bickering, Divinity Invictus Alliance had ridden all the way south from Garrison of Skulls with a ram for the outer door.
“To the southern postern, boys!” Lednail cooed. “We shall try to slay their healers and those who are simply standing there watching as the door is being hit! We’ll rack up my kill-count and then leave our allies to cover for us while we take the flag back to the warcamp!”
“Good plan, mistress!” Sparkkicus the Knight said. “I will guard you, and you rack up your kill count!”
Lednail smiled inwardly. For five years those such as Sparkkicus had come and gone…But she remained…
“TANKS ON THE RAM!” Joker shouted in his most commanding voice. He knew his right hand man, Ooul, was leading the ram’s swings, and that was good, because oftentimes those who worked for Order, yet wore the garb of Destruction, allowed the ram to be broken intentionally. The resulting morale boost to a keep’s defenders in such a case was staggering. But this would not happen now, for Rhinocerberus, Llias and Badpull were close at hand. Those on the ram with Ooul would be SAFE—UNLESS order imbibed Burning Elixers. In that case, Joker knew that only expert healing could keep the attack on Southern Garrison going.
Lednail and her twelve were couched at the southern postern, ready to charge out and attack the hapless among Destruction’s assembled multitude. But a Witch Elf named Indacut, who had already killed three Order on the keep’s outer walls, called out, “Lednail is at the southern postern!”
Indacut’s voice was barely audible over the constant firing of Hellcannons and Organ Guns, yet enough had heard so that Lednail’s surprise attack was no surprise at all. Cueleen, Glekkollis and Guccibird placed healing –over-time spells on those Lednail was set to pounce on. Lednail was frustrated yet she kept pouncing and pouncing—desperately trying to kill anyone, with no success.
Meanwhile, a Dark Elf appropriately named Khaaine advanced on the Order healers in the back, who ran in all directions to avoid his razor-sharpened dual blades. Khaaine was followed by Choe and Cultzure, two marauders who swung their club-like appendages in devastating archs. But the most feared attacks came from the sorcerer Zorkman, a towering white-robed magician who cast doombolts that dropped nearly all the Order that had come out of the postern before they could escape.
Lednail and the few left to her ran back into the postern, shivering from the freezing attacks inflicted upon them and bloodied by the pummeling they had received.
“Take the flag to the warcamp now!” Lednail instructed her remaining crew. “We will take our chances with Fistandantulus, Natarzja, Vilepayne , Fromoy, and Widgeonn… The majority of Destruction’s warriors are here in Praag, and we might get some quick kills.”
“What about Nomnomlir, and the others?” Sparkkicus asked. “They are calling out to hold the keep!”
“Of course they are! They are slayers, meant to die!” Lednail retorted, annoyed. “Leave them.”
Tense minutes later, Joker shouted, “ORDER OUTER DOOR DOWN IN PRAAG!...RAM UP ON INNER DOOR!” Southern Garrison’s inner courtyard was slippery with blood. But the fallen were exclusively Empire, Dwarf, and Elf. Joker and Sluggfist had been badly wounded in the push through the courtyard to set the inner ram, but they were not slain, for Fursir, Juggallette, Genevieve, Lavana, and Darkboure had seen to their wounds with their spells. In moments, the two titanic choppas had been completely restored to health.
Then the worst happened. Months earlier, an insane alchemist had come up with a formula for a potion to make any warrior god-like. In both the Inevitable City and Altdorf the corrupt governments sold them. Realizing that they had run out of alternatives, not one, but THREE desperate Order defenders drank the Burning Elixirs and attempted to destroy the ram. At the same time a rat ogre attacked the Destruction forces and a Skaven Engineer rained death from atop the walls.
It looked like the attempt to take Sothern Garrison would fail. But with brilliant healing, and magnificent teamwork by all those soldiers of Destruction who had come that day by chance or providence, the three Order transformed by the Burning Elixirs were slain in turn.
The Inner was down and the Magus named Wheel of Misfortune shouted, “Cleanup on aisle 5!”
Joker looked exhausted. During the battle in the courtyard he had been fending off insults from those Destruction nay-sayers who had claimed that claimed the push in Praag would fail. Again, the negativity and insults had been proven wrong and victory had been won.
Ooul looked with a probing gaze at the leader of Legacy of Legends, who was standing astride the corpse of a recently-disemboweled Shadow Warrior who in life had been known as Kieter.
“Wauuuugh!” Joker shouted.
A better reflection on the moment would have been hard to find, the gold-clad Chosen thought. “Indeed,” Ooul said under his breath.

[Challenger3333]

Part 3
Although a few Order had fought desperately, their realm had been pushed back on two fronts: Dwarf and Empire. Destruction had found taking Reikland to be simple enough. The combined efforts of the soldiers of Tchar’zanek brought down the inner and outer doors of Order’s keep in less than an hour.
“Oi, Oi, Oi!” The Orks of the realm cheered while they rode back into the Destruction Warcamp with scores of Chaos and Dark Elf combatants. At Morr’s Repose all had shared equally in the spoils of war, and even those new to the battlefield had found a place within the Warbands of Destruction.
Ooul the Chosen considered working with those who had started learning their weapons and skills only months earlier to be an honor, and he knew his commander, Joker the Choppa, felt the same way. They had recruited many when they were still new to the battlefield, and had lost dozens to attrition. Each loss was mourned silently, but had to be endured. Mrblastybalsty, a Shamen had fallen. Stelios, a Blackguard, had fallen. Meil, another Blackguard, had recently passed. And the mighty Reus, a Chosen, had also been lost. All gone but not forgotton.
Yet others replaced them: Abdylon, now a Chosen, had wandered out of the Chaos Wastes to take up arms with Legacy of Legends; Philipis, a Blackguard from a farway nation had joined; the oddly-titled Black Ork named Soapscum (who was actually constantly covered in mud—or worse) had come from Bloodhorn; Drzoommafoo the Shaman and his brothers were recent additions; along with Guicciheals the Disciple of Khaine. Each brought a unique perspective to the guild. Having fought boldly side by side with the greatest heroes of the Guild Legacy of Legends, these warriors had seen much glorious battle, and their skills increased dramatically in recent times.
Also, a new guild had joined the Divinity Invictus Alliance—the terrifying conglomeration of entities known as The Veggie Squad; including, among others, Scarletmist, who was a giant among Disciples of Khaine, and Quakey the Marauder, a sure-handed veteran.
Ooul felt these additions had undoubtedly made the Lord of Change pleased. For five years he had always made provisions for such growth.
Yet Ooul was assured that the many qualities distinguishing the respectable Order soldiers were completely vacant in the White Lion who had teleported away at Armory in Praag—the one known as Lednail. Lednail was elitist and afraid to tears of dying—such hubris would one day be her downfall. Order was supposed to be “good,” and it was Chaos that had invaded the Empire. Yet so many of them went against that basic philosophy it made Ooul feel even more assured that Destruction and Chaos were RIGHT.
Each Divinity Invictus soldier was indelibly tied to their brethren, and from it gained their strength, not from the type of elitism or exclusivity Lednail commonly practiced.
While Ooul flew to Kadrin Valley with the rest of Destruction, Lednail the White Lion waited for Destruction’s attack on Karaz Drengi to commence, dressing in her tightest-fitting medium smock and tallest hat. She unashamedly turned to her hardened veterans to command them: “We wait for them to trickle in and come toward our southern postern door,” Her excited eyes greedily watered at the thought of getting a higher kill-count. “This will be a bloodbath for them. Remember: pick the easiest targets!”
After gathering in front of the Warcamp, the combined forces of Destruction moved out as one toward Karaz Drengi. Plinkinator, a recently-grown Squig Herder with a voice like raspy sandpaper, called out “ALL TO KEEP!” And the charge began.
“Stay Together, and stay off the postern door!” Warkittens the Witch Elf shouted.
“Stand as one, or my sisters and I will skin your fingertips!” The vile and deadly Witch Elf Dcastle commanded in shrilling fury.
“You heard them! Follow orders or prepare for our wrath!” yet another Witch Elf, Ironically named Oneeasyhoe, declared brashly.
Recently, the more over-anxious soldiers of Destruction had often awoken from their slumbers screaming in their tents after having the tips of their fingers removed. Apparently, the deadly Dark Elf sisterhood was becoming the enforcers of the well-known standard tactics. Those who were charging in without support and putting up rams solo had even been found on the night following such fiascos floating face-down in rivers outside Warcamps.
A Chosen General named Brettoli and a huge Black Ork named Deathshead (whom the gods had granted incredible strength and size) gave the orders—the rams were ready, and Destruction was to proceed in FULL FORCE at a gallop from Dolgrun’s Cairn to Karaz Drengi!
Despite the threats from the Brides of Khaine, Order’s Witch Hunters and Bright Wizards felled several vanguard destruction troops, too eager to arrive at the keep. Each Order assassin was overrun in turn, but not before breaking off the tip of the spear point that was Destruction’s northward advance. Other overzealous Destruction warriors, despite the warnings, could not resist chasing Order to their south postern. Pinchitter the Disciple of Khaine used the spell Khaine’s Embrace with critical clarity; yet a score of Destruction’s newest soldiers were drawn away from where the focus should be—the outer gate of the keep.
The Ram began to swing, and the door was splitting, while the newest members of Destruction’s forces were picked apart on the extreme edges of the keep by Order’s biting flank maneuvers. Herbyheals and others were barely able to cast spells meant to close the avulsions and contusions their allies were suffering at the hands of the Order combatants working the peripheries at the keep.
Yet Destruction was inflicting damage too. After five minutes of pounding by the ram, the outer door was nearly destroyed, and near the keep’s crenulations, Phesty, one of Order’s key healers, lay dead next to Darrry Manilow, a Shadow Warrior known to pick off those in light armor. The Sorceress Kinq and the Magus Gdar had done their work well.
The outer fell with an ear-splitting “Ka-BOOM!” and at the front of the line stood six Chosen, three Black Orks, and two Blackguards, including the malicious malefactor Corroded, who personally beat back the line of Order with a massive strike of his weapon.
Seeing there was no way to hold the tide of Destruction’s warriors pouring into the keep’s courtyard, one of their commanders, Avocetii, shouted, “All to the inner! Pull Back! By Sigmar’s Hammer, there are too many! AUUUGGH!!!” He was directly pursued by Hellash, a marauder who was like a whirlwind of death, cutting into the Knight’s armor as though it were tin. Additionally, Although Avocetii was under the spell effects of a spell known as “Gork Says Stop,” cast by Moldiethong the Shaman, Avocetii dropped his two-hander and fled headlong into the inner sanctum, trampling down the Warrior Priest Ozs who died to a dozen axe-cuts a moment later.
Just inside the closing gates, Avocetii fell, and Joker laughed, “Haw haw haw!”
Fistandantulus the Magus guffawed, and commented, “When Gork Says Stop he means it!”
Inside the keep, the panicked order commanders wondered, “Where are the White Lions?” The inner doors began to buckle under the assault .
Little did they know that Lednail and her crew was just down the road a bit, picking off the stragglers coming from Destruction’s Warcamp, doing next to nothing to help those besieged at Order’s keep. “Higher kill-count!” she frothed at her constituency, whipping them frenetically as if they were less than her animal companion, Allana. She said aloud, mostly to herself, “’I love this…’”
There would be no help coming from the White Lions to the Order at Karaz Drengi on this day.
Just as destruction’s victory seemed assured, through the front gate came the five “Brothers’ Bright Wizards” who could bend the laws of physics to move in perfect unison and occupy the same space at the same time. Nearly all Destruction believed their push on Karaz Drengi was finished—NEARLY all. Joker and Sluggfist, two of the largest Choppas on the field, moved with their guardsmen and furiously attacked the Warrior Priest of the “Brothers’” who died almost instantly. Though badly burned, the two raging Choppas survived. Others as well came back from the brink of death due to the magnificent combined healing of Shamen, Disciples of Khaine, and Zealots from Divinity Invictus and other mighty Alliances of Tchar’zanek.
Enough soldiers were kept alive to finish killing ALL the order inside. Kadrin Valley fell to Destruction, and Legacy of Legends would advance with the others across the Bridge of Shadows to Altdorf.
Filled with a well-deserved sense of pride, Ooul stood near the high tower of the ruins of Karaz Drengi atop a waist-deep pile of order corpses. Although he felt certain superiority in that he was a Chosen, he knew that the defeat of Order was only possible if ALL of Destruction contributed EQUALLY to the victory. So many had been there to fire a supa-chucka or swing the ram or otherwise engage the enemy.
Joker looked over at Ooul and they raised their weapons in the air, spontaneously howling “Blood for the Blood God!!!”
Other Destruction began to cheer also, in a darkly beautiful war-cry of triumph!

[Challenger3333]

Part 4
The war continued in Altdorf, where a massive number of Destruction’s finest, just inside the gates of the city, milled about. They planned strategy and cajoled each other loudly, with the beers provided by those wearing Battle Brew Backpacks.
Eadsplitter, a Black Ork, shared a pint with Jjup the Marauder, and they held the large wooden steins just out of reach of the shorter members of the assembled Destruction team, such as Squiznizzler, Scubi, Rokkgobnag, and the artful Goblin Shaman, Enigmo.
Seeing the game played by some of the taller members of Destruction’s Army with some of the shorter ones, the Magus Dixiedarlin interjected, “Hey, you! Chaos hounds! There’s enough for everyone!”
“Aww, we was jus’ teasin,’” Eadsplitter said, and he passed another mug around. In Jjup’s case, he was so tall that he hadn’t seen the thirsty Goblins, and he also willingly shared.
Although each sipped some of the brew, the joviality was not so pronounced among the Dark Elves within Altdorf. They had come to settle a score with their ancient enemies, the Light Elves, and their allies.
“Let us pave the streets with their blood,” the Dark Elf Sorcerer Henway glowered, anticipating a chance to inflict pain on his foes.
“Let them taste true fear as we burn them from their homes!” fumed the Disciple of Khaine Wyriel, anticipating the chance to sink his weapon into the gullets of an Archmage. “Let them know our superiority as we dominate their weakling spirits here in Altdorf!”
Ooul smiled, waving away the mug of grog offered him by the Dark Elf Disicple of Khaine, Fursir. Despite the good intentions of the gesture, he declined, which the other Dark Elves noted. They did not appreciate a show of camaraderie being turned down by a leader of another faction. Ooul realized this, but was fanatically devoted to Tchar’zanek that he felt it logical to have a clear head, so the he could remember the final slaughter of Order that afternoon.
Darkbourne the Zealot stood near Lycithas the Harridan Seer, who was normally quiet before battle. “Strength and perserverance, healer,” Lycithas whispered. Darkbourne, surprised at the notice from the Destruction Champion, simply nodded humbly.
Zuoad the Chosen looked over at the inspiring Destruction Champion, Engra Deathsword, and listened carefully to his instuctions. The Ancient Chosen Champion had to reach the Palace gates to open the way for Tchar’zanek, and he was certain he would, for Engra was certainly the most imposing of the four champions within Altdorf.
After a long speech, Tchar’zanek signaled the Destruction forces to commence the attack. They rode through the streets of Altdorf at breakneck speed to the first objective: the War Quarters. After its abandoned defenses were smashed into splinters, a small goblin, bearing a large keg packed with explosives, lit the keg’s fuse. Seconds later the explosives detonated, and hunks of stone were hurled far into the sky. All across the city, the citizens hiding in cellars and attics knew: Destruction had arrived.
“Strength, now!” Jadeknight said to the Order defenders at Emperor’s Circle. “Remember to follow my advice TO THE LETTER, and JUST as I told you.” Jadeknight had insisted on telling many of Order’s Warriors what they had been doing wrong, which in his opinion, had led to their current predicament.
Altdorf’s tired structures shook as horse hooves, hog’s feet, and the claws of cold ones rode down a sidestreet toward Emperor’s Circle. The Destruction force gathered, unseen, behind the enemy position, and then sprang out, taking them by surprise!
“TURN THE OGRAN GUNS! THEY ARE BEHIND US!” Jadeknight shouted. But by then, it was far too late for Order to mount a viable defense of the key objective in Altdorf. The force at Emperor’s Circle was in full retreat, and Jadeknight, who was at the head of those who ran, thought to himself, “This was supposed to be fun…by my sword it is not…everyone is dead… perhaps they wouldn’t notice if I SWITCHED SIDES…yes…”
Jadeknight and a few others made it out of Altdorf alive to fight another day. Yet now, only a single group of Order soldiers remained to protect the capital. And they were not there to protect it—they were there to add to their “kill count.”
A few Order fighters still remained, struggling to stop Destruction. Bladespawn, a Swordmaster, had stayed to fight to the end, and with few quick slashes of his enormous two-hander, Breakfings the Choppa was dead, oozing green ichor onto a set of brick stairs, despite committed attempts by several healers to keep the Ork alive.
Yet while in finishing off the Choppa, Bladespawn had not realized how badly he was injured. A tide of Destruction rolled over him a moment later, and when he was dead they went on to the library.
The Bright Wizard Eviltaco, stood alone a few moments on the Library steps, separated from the Order who had left, smoking a cigarette. He thought he could perhaps kill a soldier of Tzchar’zanek if he moved behind them before burning himself down. However, twin fists of Destruction were coming at him from the street leading east and the alleyway heading south. He died instantly, cut to small pieces before hurling a single spell.
When the defenses at the objective were blown to bits, ALL Destruction’s force entered the Library to summon the Lord of Change. Tchar’zanek had insisted they do that, knowing Altdorf’s defenders could present a vexing a challenge.
But a confused Blackguard, one known to many as Spongebod, who was a close relation to Zorkman the Sorcerer, did NOT enter the Library as instructed by his commanders. He had missed the message that the rest of Destruction had gotten.
Lednail, recently arrived in Altdorf, was searching for just such a lone kill with her mob of “good” killers.
“There we are, boys—” Lednail squawked, pointing at Spongebod as he stood before the Library in the street. “This will be the easiest kill all month! Obliterate him!” Lednail, Licidx and Lilyisa pounced on the lone Blackguard, but his health barely dropped.
“Why won’t you DIE?” Lednail cried aloud. But the reason was apparent a moment later. In the doorway to the Library, Juggellette, Pinchitter, Fursir, Moldiethong, Herbyheals, and other healers stood, having saved the lone Blackguard from the raking axes attacks of the three White Lions.
In front of them stood Marelfys, Henway, and Zorkman, blasting the White Lions vengefully.
And out of the doorway a moment later the Choppas: Joker, Sluggfist and Cizorhands charged, followed closely by shreiking Witch Elves and their heavily-armored guardsmen.
Lednail and her mob ran for it, but they were done. Perforated by a dozen stabbing knives, and then dismembered as well, the bodies of she and her crew of killers were left for the crows.
Such was the fate of she who would stare down the Changer of the Ways. No more than bones and raw meat to be picked over by carrion birds. For nothing lasts forever, despite how much you desire it to, and there is always something bigger than yourself. These lessons are learned the easy way or the hard way, and Lednail had finally come to understand as she began her stay in hell.
Karl Franz was found in the Throne Room in the Palace of Altdorf, defended only by two Order soldiers: an Ironbreaker named Gavinlore and an Archmage going by the name of Fromtheus. The Archmage was twisted around by the force of the blow that resulted in her death, and she slumped to the floor at the feet of the Destruction champions. Gavinlore had backed into a corner and was curled up behind his round shield, but slaying him was a small effort for the overwhelming force of Destruction assembled that day.
Back in the Throne Room, Tchar’zanek and Karl Franz fought an epic battle of titan versus titan. The scimitar of the Lord of Chaos struck downward, cutting into the plate suit of Order’s ruler. Karl Franz spun about with his hammer, magical flames trailing off it in a circle of light. Despite his proportions, there was no way Order’s King could withstand the entirety of Destruction’s onslaught—and soon he was cowering at the feet of the decisive winners: Destruction.
“They will be back…” Ooul said to Joker. Both warriors had forgone spoils so that the less experienced soldiers among their side would have a better chance at favorable loot.
“MMM-hmmm! You is right…” Joker replied. “I already have heard they are regrouping in Praag…”
Ooul knew Joker wished to link with him up in Praag. The battle would continue, but that was alright. For he was a Chosen, soldier of Chaos. He was a warrior. And WAR was GOOD.

[Challenger3333]

Ooul_0001a[1].jpg (157.79 KiB) Viewed 5057 times

[Elven]

Woooow. Looooong. Didn't read but I will say, welcome

[JeFawk]

What the fuck?

I'll read it a bit later, I like these

Hi

[Raganiuke]

It is very good read for those who played in badlands. So many familiar names mentioned in this story....It just takes u back to the old days we had ) Love it!

[Grulo]

It is very good read for those who played in badlands. So many familiar names mentioned in this story....It just takes u back to the old days we had ) Love it!

Indeed. Very nice story. I find it specially hilarious seeing Joker depicted as this super-badass deadly Choppa. Badlanders know better...

Joker's skill was indeed legendary, but not in the way some might think

[Alvanos]

No stories from Iron Rock? I wanna hear about Shockohealus's guerrila bands that made flips for destro impossible (back on the VP flips sustem).