Turn 7

December 11

 

It is as if the world is ending…

 

"Keep, keep, da, da, Ladz, Ladz, movin, movin!” bellowed Warboss Snagafang to his Nobz. The Warboss surveyed the battle from one of the highest towers on the eastern wall, the doom of Martek playing out below him and his massive Wyvern. The massive Black Orcs and Savage Orcs rushed to carry out their leaders orders, lest they feel his wrath. Hordes of heavily armored Orcs massed through the collapsed walls, many falling to the blades of the defenders as the Orcs struggled to find purchase on the shifting piles of debris. Once several of the Black Orcs found steady ground, the tide began to turn as  the massive greenskined monsters brought their choppas to bear. Lightly armored, the defenders fell like ripened wheat to the blades of the Orcs and then the breach was on! Savage Orcs mounted on boars thundered across the rubble, slamming into the ranks of glittering pikes hefted by the defenders. Maddened with bloodlust, many ignored the sharpened spears of the pikemen and were skewered like sweetmeats. Many more overwhelmed the defenders, hacking about with their crude axes and blades in an orgy of

bloodletting. The defenders were forced to fall back against the insane onslaught of the

Orcs, and many began to rout!

 

“If they sought solace further in the city, then the routers were very wrong. Lurking in the darkened streets, the forces of the Covenant pulled down the fleeing men and women, slitting throats and carrying away the bodies to feed upon later. It was truly a scene of bloodletting and destruction on a level that had never been seen in Araby before.

 

The streets ran red with the blood and soon the gutters were clogged with the corpses of the dead and bodies of the dying. The proud buildings of the market square were ablaze with uncontrolled fires. The army of Da Foeburna had ripped into that section of the city with their torches, brands and flaming Gobbos! Everywhere they could find, they lit any combustible on fire, shrieking with glee as the pyres burned ever higher into the heavens. Soon the army of greenskins reached the outer walls of the palace. Even as the Black Orcs plied their battering rams to the stout wooden and brass banded doors. Seeing that the end of the defense was near, Snagafang bellowed to his Wyvern to carry him to the palace walls. Even as the Wyvern soared towards the palace, Snagafang’z voice boomed out to the defenders and Orcs alike below.

 

“People of Martek! Your doom is upon you, as was prophesized centuries ago! I, Kasem Al Badskar Ebin Bubal have returned to seek my vengeance upon this city and all its populace! Long have I agonized in the deep slumber forced upon me so many centuries ago by the elders of this accursed city! Longer still have I endured the primitive mind of this crude vessel that bears my essence, waiting patiently for this day of my reckoning! This dimwitted beast has served as the bearer of your destruction, a seed planted by your ancestors’ generations past. Now you shall feel the full wrath of my vengeance!"

 

As the Wyvern landed, the Orc’s in the square paused in their attack. Likewise the heads of the defenders and Covenant were drawn to the events playing out nearby in the palace courtyard. The massive Orc Warboss leapt from his reptilian mount and surveyed the carnage. Throwing back his head in a massive fit of laughter, the head of the Orc Warboss burst into flame! The glowing red gem in his eye socket burned with an unearthly fire, throwing forth bursts of light. The gem glowed hot white before bursting, throwing the shattered pieces into the air as the body of Snagafang was cast backwards into a heap. An evil whirlwind of orange smoke drifted up from the broken shards, coalescing into the enormous form of a towering red skinned monster! The Jenn, as its race was known as, appeared as a massive crimson skinned man with the horned head of a demon. Massive jaws drooled acidic spittle that burned and hissed on the pavement. Standing over 15 feet tall, the clawed feet of the beast clicked on the bricks as it turned towards the astonished Orcs! The cultist of the Covenant threw themselves to the ground in worship, of what they believed to be one of their gods taken form. Taking advantage of this, the masses of Goblins jumped onto the prone figures, clubbing and stabbing at the helpless warriors of the Covenant! The Jenn turned his attention to the gates and raised his hands. Blasts of fire erupted from his fists, striking the gates, turning them white hot! Dozens of Orcs were incinerated in the blast as well, the survivors charging at the new threat. Even as the Orcs attacked the Jenn, they fell to its fury. Centuries of imprisonment had fuelled a rage that they could not hope to stop. Armor was crushed by mighty fists, limps ripped from socket and heads smashed like ripe gourds. Soon the sickening pile of dead greenskins was stacking up; all the while the Jenn continued to advance up the stairs towards the gate. With a roar of hatred, the Wyvern leapt upon the demon, raking with its bloody claws at the perfect skin of the Jenn. Seizing the neck of the Wyvern in both hands, the Jenn began to crush the neck of the struggling beast. It’s hissing growing less vocal, the Wyvern sought to bite the hands that were squeezing the life out of it but the grip was far too strong. Soon the sickly, snapping sounds of the Wyvern’s neck could be heard above the din of battle and it died with a gurgling hiss. The ancient steps crumbled under the weight of the demonic creature as it cast aside the broken body of the Wyvern, even as it turned to assail the gates with its gore smeared fists. Weakened by fire, the gates began to buckle under the repeated attacks. On the other side the guards of the Pasha could only hold their ground as they heard the instrument of their doom getting ever closer to toppling their meager defenses. Even as the door splintered and fell inward, the triumphant roar of the Jenn echoed throughout the polished halls of the palace.

 

“And now! My wrath will finally be felt and I will rule this city of the dead for centuries to come! Fear not, this day of your doom was foretold and none shall escape it!”

 

As the Jenn ducked down to enter the palace proper, Snagafang leapt upon its broad back, wielding a massive chain. Throwing the chain around the neck of the creature, Snagafang pulled back with all the might he could muster, the veins on his neck bulging out from the effort. As the Jenn began to gasp for breath, fear could be seen in its eyes. The massive Orc was strong and the chain began to dig into its throat. Struggling to break the grip of the Orc, the Jenn began to grow weaker. Snagafang glowed with greenish energy as the power of the Waaaaaaagh ran through his veins, the Godz were with him this day. Even as the Jenn gurgled its final breaths, the fire scarred face of Snagafang was set in an evil grin, the flesh having burned away, leaving him blind. A snapping sound from the throat of the Jenn heralded the severing of its windpipe and the massive body sagged to the ground. Snagafang’z body fell to the ground next to the fallen Jenn, neither to rise again.

 

Stunned silence followed the end of the carnage. Orc, human, Skaven, all could only try and decide what they had just witnessed. Moving forward quickly, Tarlen Da Foeburna grabbed the fallen choppa of the Warboss, raising it high above his head.

 

“I is da Boss now Gitz! And I iz da Chosen of Gork! Now letz really krump deze gitz and burn der city to der ground!”

 

To drive home his point, he clouted the nearest Savage Orc across the face with the flat of the choppa, knocking out several teeth. With a snarl of rage, the Savage Orc hefted its own weapon and charged through the shattered gate. The true doom of Martek had finally arrived….

 

Lord Solomar, angered by these actions sent a fast hitting force of cavalry to take the Tauroz River Bridge. He would need an easy way into Lasheik, but he was unable to capture it quickly for the Brethren had already established a beach head for they were unable to destroy the bridge at an earlier attempt. As the two forces assembled for battle a Waaagh appeared on the horizon. The three armies grappled all day, but none were able to take the field and a bloody stalemate settled over the field as the sun went down. The Tomb Kings under the leadership of Ahemet continued forward with their unending focus. Wadi Salut fell to them as they assaulted the final fort guarding the pass. Dwarf artillery rained down on the defenders long enough to allow a combined assault of undead scorpions and skaven of Clan Husk to penetrate the walls and overwhelm the defenders inside. Horrid cries of terror echoed throughout the pass as the defenders were cut down to a man.

 

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As other forces grappled around Lasheik itself, readying for the inevitable push, the Pact moved from Al Hadok to the spice port of Cophers. The swift maneuvers of the vanguard, led by Sir Cai Leonsas quickly came upon the city only to find a husk remained. The fields surrounding the area were salted and would be unable to bear crops for generations. A flock of ravens circled around the city as a foreboding omen to the knights as they rode forward to the city gates. Upon reaching the great entrance there was a pile of dead bodies, and the blood of the victims smeared on the gate and walls. Stuck upon the door, blood soaked, was a letter from the Caliph Haseem,

 

Invaders,

 

I outright reject your…offer. You have no authority in this land, for you are uninvited trespassers. If I had the full capabilities I would have already destroyed your pathetic little army as it landed upon the shores. Unfortunately, my subordinates were incompetent and they have failed me. Now, I am in full command and I will not show the same carelessness in dealing with you.

 

I am in a generous mood today, however, and I give you a counter offer. Baluin, you and all of your minions become my loyal lieutenants. You will all be granted titles of royalty and will pay homage to myself and the gods. Take this offer while you still can. I may grow tired of the notion and make your entire retinue of horse people regret the day that they set foot in Araby.

 

You see in front of you what I am capable of. Take the offer or suffer an even worse fate.

 

Crumpling the letter, Sir Cai and his men marched into the city to find people scattered about, limp in the streets. Their homes and shops destroyed, their bodies broken. Not a sound could be heard except the ravens overhead.

 

The stage is set and the noose is tightening. Lasheik, the last great prize of Araby remains untouched. All armies look to the city and see a means to achieve their goals in this campaign. All of the plotting, maneuvering and fighting has come to this…

 

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