Mark of Chaos (37 page)

A
pale, flawlessly
beautiful face appeared before Markus, speaking to him in a sing-song, melodious voice. He tried to ignore it, but it was insistent, drawing him away from the darkness. With a gasp, he opened his eyes, pain flaring from the wound on his shoulder. He felt cold and weak, and his arm throbbed with near unbearable agony. He pulled himself upright, crying out, and saw the pale elf below him, staring up at him with her almond-shaped eyes.

With a roar, the daemon prince stalked into the chamber, hefting its massive, gore-covered axe. Its wings folded behind it, and it stamped towards the mage, eyes and horns blazing with fire.

'Time to die, elf bitch,' snarled Hroth.

Aurelion backed away from the towering creature, but her face showed no fear.

Markus flicked his gaze around - the helblaster,
Wrath of Sigmar
,
was next to him, and the daemon prince was moving right into the middle of the killing ground below. Clenching his teeth tightly against the pain, the engineer hobbled around the machine, ensuring it was ready to fire.

Stefan hacked and
killed. With him at the fore, the halberdiers fought the Chaos warriors toe to toe, refusing to give any ground to the hulking enemy. The Chaos forces had seen their sorcerer slain, and their daemon prince was no longer on the field of battle, but they fought on regardless, fighting with brutal efficiency. The Empire soldiers fought with desperation, but still two of their own were cut down for every Chaos warrior they felled.

'For Sigmar!' shouted Stefan, and threw himself at the foe. A massive bald, black-armoured warrior was before him, holding aloft a standard covered in grisly trophies. Stefan swung his sword at the man again and again. Finally, he got through the man's defences, and drove his blade into his face. He fell to the ground, and the standard fell.

The charge of
the Reiklandguard faltered, as fully half their number collapsed from their steeds as the sorcerous green fog rolled over them. Many of the horses stumbled and fell as their limbs became suddenly arthritic and filled with disease, and their lungs were filled with filth. The reiksmarshal closed his eyes and mouth against the foulness, but was thrown from the saddle as his horse expired beneath him. He rolled to his feet as the skaven warriors descended towards him in an unstoppable horde. He hefted his sword, and roared a battle cry as the enemies swamped him.

Jurgen led the
charge, riding down the skaven between his household guard and the grey-furred creature on the back of the rolling bell-tower. They shrieked in fear and anger as they were cut down, scattering before the charge. The ground pounded with the hooves of the warhorses, and Jurgen felt more alive than he had in years. He felt joyous, even though he rode to his death. The grey-furred creature turned, blind eyes wide in panic as the knights closed on him.

Green lightning arced from the skaven's hand, killing a dozen of the knights, but they rode on. Jurgen slammed his sabre down onto the top of another skaven's head, splitting it down to the teeth, and urged his horse on. The bell-tower was only a dozen paces away, and that was when the bell tolled once more. This close, the sound resonated deep within Jurgen's body, and he could feel his organs vibrating within him. His warhorse baulked at the ungodly sound, and a skaven thrust a spear into the chest of the beast. Jurgen slashed down with his sabre, killing the creature, but his horse had been fatally wounded. Still, it kept moving forwards, and it slammed into the bell-tower structure with its full, armoured weight before falling to the ground, dead.

Jurgen fell heavily. He looked up to see the grey-furred creature topple off the structure, and drop awkwardly beside him.

In an instant, Jurgen was atop the scrawny creature, gagging at the stench of the foul thing. He had dropped his sword, and so the baron clasped his hands around the thin throat of the grey-furred rat, squeezing the life from it. The skaven panicked as the other knights slammed into their ranks, cutting and hacking at them. The bell-tower itself teetered for a moment before it fell to the ground, the bell echoing dully as it slammed into the earth, crushing several skaven beneath it.

The grey seer struggled frantically, its white, blind eyes widening as its life was choked from it. Two spears slammed into Jurgen's chest, but he held grimly on, throttling the skaven. It went limp in his hands as it died. Another spear was driven into Jurgen's body, and he slumped down over the dead grey seer. He would be remembered in Talabheim for all time, a hero.

Hroth grinned in
savage pleasure as he slew Aurelion, her body crumpling as the axe smashed into her. Her spotless robes of white and blue were splashed with blood, and she fell to the floor, broken. Hroth roared his pleasure, the sound echoing through the fortress and out onto the field of battle.

The helblaster unleashed
its fury, all nine of its barrels slamming into the daemon prince. Hroth's roar of triumph was drowned out by the booming of the
Wrath of Sigmar
,
and the daemon was ripped apart by the power of the machine. Desperately, the daemon prince tried to cling to life, but its body was shattered as nine cannonballs smashed through it.

A hideous wail of pure anger screamed out as the sound of the fusillade of death faded, and the immortal essence of Hroth the Blooded, Daemon Prince of Khorne, was sent back to the Realm of Chaos. The Chaos army faltered, feeling the pain of the passing of the daemon deep inside the core of their being.

Knowing that something momentous had happened, Stefan led his troops in a desperate final push, cutting down the bewildered Chaos warriors before him. All across the battlefield, the Empire soldiers launched their counter-attack, driving the forces of Chaos back, and killing them in droves as they reeled around blindly, stunned by the death of their warlord and figurehead.

The battle of Talabheim was over.

EPILOGUE

The forces of
Chaos were devastated by the loss of the Daemon Prince, Hroth the Blooded, his death a shockwave that rendered them almost incapable of battle. Many of the independent tribes escaped into the forests around Talabheim, fleeing the way they came, through the Wizard's Way, but many others were brutally cut down and slaughtered by the forces of the Empire, under the command of Captain von Kessel.

The skaven forces, leaderless, scattered in all directions. Many stampeded towards the walls of Talabheim, overcoming the defences, and fleeing over the sides. Others raced back into Talabheim, killing everything in their path in their rush, and fled back into the tunnels below.

The Emperor himself honoured the engineer, Markus, and he remained in Talabheim for many years to come, overseeing the collapse of the tunnels beneath the city.

The warrior priest, Gunthar, survived his injuries and spent many years travelling the Empire, rooting out the evil of Chaos wherever he found it. He led the attacks that drove out the surviving Chaos warbands from around Talabheim, uncovered cultists in the court of the Emperor himself, and spent the last years of his long life living in an isolated temple of Sigmar in the hills of Ostermark.

The body of the elf mage, Aurelion, was transported by Stefan von Kessel back to the isle of Ulthuan, with great honour, pledges of gratitude and sorrow. A statue of her, carved from a perfect block of flawless marble, was erected in the newly formed Colleges of Magic in Altdorf.

A decade later, the scout Wilhelm killed an innocent man in cold blood, and fled into the forests, pursued by the authorities. He lived out the last of his days as a cold-hearted outlaw, preying on all who crossed his path.

The creature that was Sudobaal emerged under the cover of darkness from the shattered body of its host, and burrowed into a new body, a body that was stronger and more powerful. It stole across the corpse-littered field and recovered the daemon sword, the Slayer of Kings, careful not to touch the weapon with its bare hands. It slunk out of Talabheim, and began its long journey into the far distant north, there to seek out Hroth the Blooded, the eternal master that it was ever bound to.

The body of Reiksmarshal Wolfgange Trenkenhoff was found surrounded by the corpses of over twenty skaven. He had died fighting for the Empire, his last breath gone to secure its future, and his death was honoured with a festival across the whole of the Empire.

Stefan von Kessel became the Elector Count of Ostermark, and faced the enemies of the Empire many times in his life. He became known as a fair and honourable leader, and he always led his army from the front. He fathered just one heir, and his bloodline runs strong in the noble house of Ostermark.

Scanned, layouted and proof-read by Mon

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