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541 hits since 21 Jul 2018
©1994-2019 Bill Armintrout
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Pictors Studio22 Jul 2018 9:02 p.m. PST

"They stink funny."

"Shaddup, Rawtooth, theys working for us now," Gazzus Crownbiter snarled back.

He was concentrating on the amulet hanging from his wrist by a band of human sinew. He moved it to the left and the right and he looked past it to see the ghostly creatures ahead of him moving in the direction of his motion.

The nobbly little grot shaman had promised him the only semi-visible shackles would bind the undead to his will. It seemed to be working. He was pretty anxious to try for sure.

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His chance was approaching, the soggy ground was enough to absorb the footfalls of the approaching armoured enemy but not the clang of their armour as it jostled against itself.

Gazzus smiled as he saw the dim Shyish light glint off of the silver armour in the distance, his hand went up, the undead ahead of him moved to attention and his hand fell and the Orcs moved forward.

The Stormcast seemed to be aware of where the undead guardians could roam and they moved to skirt the shades and engage their Orc enemies.

Soon the clash of lightning forged steel against rusted and rough hewn iron resounded across the landscape as Orcs and Stormcast slaughtered each other.

Gazzus charged at the armoured giant leading the Stormcast forces and the two dueled briefly before the Orc smashed the glowing lantern he held and the hand that held it.

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The Stormcast lunged forward with his blade but Gazzus battered the attack down with his left hand cleaver and struck a blow into the warriors torso with the one in his right.

His boar thrust its tusks into the stricken enemy and blood seeped out from under the thigh guard.

The two cleavers swung out from where Gazzus had crossed his arms and the steel clad warrior's head popped off of his body, the blue stream of its life force shooting up into the heavens.

Gazzus moved to intercept the Stormcast moving around his flank and motioned with his hand that bore the amulet. The thin specter behind the stormcast warriors moved towards them and slowly raised high a huge ax, bringing it down in a crushing arc as the Stromcast fell before it.

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With their leader gone, the Stormcast were in disarray and the orc numbers told.

The last few warriors that survived formed in a defensive formation and withdrew from the battlefield leaving the prized grimoire where it had been.

The orcs liked this game, warbands came to claim this magical prize and they killed them as they came in, Gazzus smiled at the genius trap he had set.

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