[Last night I managed two games of Warhammer Fantasy with Andrew. I felt like writing some fiction for it, instead of a regular Battle Chronicler report. Please enjoy!]
The town of Meepleton had never before borne a single mage, let alone two at once. Even more novel, they were brothers, twins at that, Raye and Blaise, both with the surreal power to control the Winds of Magic. As young children they caused much grief for their noble family, one of the founding families of the town, having to put up with their magical antics at home and in public. As they got older, though, their control over the Winds became stronger, and soon they were competing with each other, besting each other with spell after ever-more-dangerous spell.
One day they agreed to an ill-fated challenge. They were each to raise an army, travel to the frontier and battle some enemy of Man or another, and return with the glory of victory, or the shame of defeat. And on their 28th birthday the day had come, when they parted ways and set out from the safety of Meepleton. Their armies were readied, their plans laid, their destinies set…
Raye, the older of the twins, was a master of the Lore of Light. His powers allowed him to cleanse and purify, using the magic that permeated the world to bring order and balance. He was also headstrong, and a good leader of his men, who trusted his judgement and had faith in his abilities.
So when Raye and his armies arrived at the treeline of a dark and foreboding forest, they did not hesitate when he led them within. His staff shone with the Light of Lights, brightening the gloom around them, keeping what evil spirits that lay beyond. The men of Raye’s force could feel the touch of Chaos all around them, but stood fast within the protective glow of their leader.
As they came to a clearing they spread out, noble Knights on their trusted steeds to the far left; skilled Crossbowen to Raye’s immediate left; and to his right, his loyal and highly-trained Swordsmen, eager to follow Raye’s word, but wary of the impenetrable darkness on the far side of the clearing. The men whispered, the horses shifted, but still Raye’s small army stood fast and brave.
And in an instant the quiet of the dark forest turned to the tumultuous roar of a stampede of wild, unreal creatures of Chaos. There was a roiling mass of pink bodies, arms and legs, tentacles and tongues waving about, bodies hopping over one another as they surged forward. There was an unholy scream as three beasts flew through the air, as if they were marine animals in their home environs. A lumbering monstrosity galloped forward, a tinted cloud surrounding its body. And a powerful-looking humanoid creature, feminine qualities obscured by its unnatural aura, led the charge of a cohort of similar feminine creatures, pincer-clawed and savage-eyed.
As the varied force of Chaos came forward, Raye stepped forward and called to his men, “Let us vanquish these vile creatures from this land! Let us usher in the Light, and expell the Darkness! Forward!”
And on his command the wizard’s men moved forward slowly, their expressions grim but their resolve steady. Raye himself summoned the Winds of Magic to his bidding, the air around him crackling and the once-dark forest now brightened by the power surrounding him. He sent forth a beam of light from his staff towards the mess of pink bodies, nearly half of them disappearing as it passed. The Crossbowmen, seeing the numbers of that group drop, took aim upon those that remained and let loose their bolts. As if imbued with magic themselves, the shots found their mark, dropping more of the creatures. Soon there were just a handful of them left, easy pickings for the Swordsmen that rushed towards them.
The beasts of Chaos, though, were not slowed by this show of force. They continued to surge forward, their dark intensity increasing as they neared.
The horses of the Knights whinnied and stuttered, but they were reigned in just before their riders urged them forward in a charge against the feminine Daemons. Bodies crashed, armour clanged, and flesh was torn. When the Knights’ lances were bloodied and broken, they were dropped and replaced by swords, which began hacking at the Daemonettes. Fighters on both sides fell, but in that melee they remained as bodies dropped all around.
Nearby the Crossbowmen took aim at the lumbering beast, loosed their bolts but this time watched as their shots did little damage, and the beast kept coming. Raye, his staff swirling, urged his men on. The Swordsmen charged into the remaining pink horrors, and cut them down with ease, losing none of their own. Triumphantly they continued forward, already swinging around to face the rear of the chaotic forces.
The Daemonettes, many fallen to the blades of the Knights, were urged on by their Herald, and continued to attack their mounted enemies, never giving ground. The melee was joined by the screaming, flying creatures who crashed into the flank of the Knights. Eventually, the mounted nobles could not withstand such onslaught, and after laying waste to numerous Daemons, were forced to flee. Sadly, though, their steeds were too tired, and could not outrun the now-embibed Daemonettes, who cut them down from behind.
Seeing this, the Crossbowmen said a quick prayer for their fallen comrades, but did not hesitate to loose another volley into those Daemons, felling a handful more. Raye, deeply saddened by the loss of his Knights, many of them his close friends, faltered. As the single Fiend rushed forward towards the Crossbowmen he took a step backward, but seeing the resolve in his men he grew brave once more, and stood his ground. He again called upon his magical powers and send another beam of pure Light towards the Fiend, who seemed to burn with the raw power hitting him.
It seemed that in a final push, the Daemons took aim at the Crossbowmen and charged as one. The odds seemed stacked highly against the ranged fighters, with their mounted allies defeated and the Swordsmen too far away to help in this crucial moment. But fear they did not, falter they did not. Instead, they took careful aim, and as the creatures of Chaos came rushing in they let loose one last volley. The bolts hit the onrushing Daemons with precision, and one after another they fell, from the flying screamers to the lumbering fiend to the creatures’ leader herself. All of them dropped, dead or nearly so, hatred seething in their dying eyes.
It was all over. Raye surveyed the battle field. His expression was grim, and heart heavy over the loss of his Knights. But the rest of his forces had survived unscathed, and this band of creatures of Chaos had been defeated.
As his men made a final sweep of the clearing, dispatching any Daemons still writhing on the ground, Raye stopped to wonder how his brother, Blaise, was faring. Had he found his own enemy? Would he be as triumphant?