The Iron Duke was ready for war. He stood in the front rank of a unit of chaos thugs. He despised them because they were weak and cowardly dogs. Despite his better judgement, this day he chose to lead them because he needed them to fight like wolves. The chaos gods whispered to him with words carried through the storm of chaos that they would be the key this day.
To his right and left he deployed two units of chaos warriors, led by two champions of chaos which he had hand picked himself. To his immediate left, between his thugs and a unit of chaos warriors, stood Shreve the Inquisitor, a sadistic sorcerer of chaos, holding in his hand the torch of chaos, which would sear the flesh from a man's bones.
He watched as the undead horde amassed across the field. Three large units of skeletons arose from the ground and stood ready. A unit of zombies shambled into position to stand beside them. Upon a hill to his left, a strange catapult made from the bones of giants waited for an unspoken command to launch its deadly ammunition. He also spotted two necromancers cowering behind the undead host, no doubt they were responsible for the horde which faced him. Finally, to the far right, across from the chaos warriors, was a unit of mounted undead, led by a vampire.
The Iron Duke laughed to himself as he considered how weak and powerless the enemy would be against his mighty army. The chaos thugs joined in as they sensed the Iron Duke's confidence.
All at once, the undead army moved forward, with a near-silent groan which was audible from a distance. The Iron Duke watched them advance and began to plot his counter moves. As his thought turned to the coming melee, he did not see a flaming, screaming skull fall from the sky and with a thunderous impact, exploded into the chaos thugs, sending bodies hurling through the air. Those that were not immediately slain by the projectile's impact had their flesh shredded by bone fragments discarged from the screaming skull's explosion. Six thugs lay dead on the ground, bleeding from grisly wounds. The remaining thugs cried in despair and screamed in panic at the sight of their fallen companions. The Iron Duke himself became filled with panic and fled the field of battle, his wolves close behind.
The remaining chaos warriors moved forward, oblivious to the loss of their leader, so great was their desire for war and carnage. Shreve advanced as well, and unleashed two vortexes of chaos at two units of skeletons near to him. Although many skeletons were destroyed, it did nothing to delay the advance of the dead.
The undead army continued to advance, and at the direction of the necromancers, moved to encircle the remainig chaos warriors, and bury them beneath their greater numbers.
The chaos warriors on the left flank were locked in combat with two units of skeletons but were not able to destory them. The chaos warriors on the right flank stood on a hill, which offered them an advantage in combat. They defeated the zombies, the skeletons, and the vampire and his horsement repeatedly, driving them from the hill.
However, the gods of chaos would play yet another card in their unfathomable cosmic game. As the battle turned in favor of the forces of chaos, Shreve cast yet another vortex of chaos which slowly moved along the line of combat between the chaos warriors on the right flank and their enemies. The vortex destroyed many undead, but also destroyed nearly all of the chaos warriors.
With total defeat so near, the remaining chaos warriors and the chaos sorcerer fled the field of battle.
Fickle are the gods of chaos, and unrelenting are the forces of death.
