Studies of The WAAAGH!!!

[Mercenary2479]

These are the works of Emil Bickenstadt, self employed playwright and author who started his journey by leaving his familiar home in Altdorf and seeking to write a series of volumes concerning the Greenskins and more importantly the devastating and notable occurrence in Greenskin culture known simply as a WAAAGH!!! His dedication to such a wildly controversial (and largely uncovered) subject was largely inspired by his younger brother Jeremiah von Bickenstadt, who was captured and enslaved by Skarsnik and The Crooked Moon Tribe earlier that year. While hunting for his brother, Emil encountered a corpse outside of Skarsnik's stronghold that strongly resembled Jeremiah von Bickenstadt left horribly burned and put on display in front of Skarsnik's encampment. A deception planned for and put in place by Skarsnik, the ruse was never discovered and from that day forward believing his brother dead, Emil dedicated his life furiously to the study of Greenskins. He emphasized their tactics, religion, and general war methodology in his writing so that the nations of men would never underestimate or be unprepared for the Greenskin scourge again and suffer as his own family had. While plotting this incredibly daunting task, Emil's works would span three ages of The Old World and include the titled Age of Reckoning, The End Times, and The Age of Peace. The Age of Reckoning was considered to start at the time of Karl Franz's election as Emperor until the arrival of Archaon The Everchosen into the world. The End Times were the second era, highlighted by the arrival of Archaon The Everchosen into the world and ending ultimately in his defeat and the elimination of his hordes from the world. The Age of Peace was the final era, culminating what was left of Emil Bickenstadt's works after Archaon's defeat. It is not entirely clear how such a massive span of time, far greater than any mortal life could aspire to live could be recorded with such clarity and apparently be completely undaunted by the effects of aging. There are many theories as to why this was possible but many of them were largely unproven and bordered on the absurd. Some say that he was actually an Elf of some sort in disguise, completely unaffected by aging and living a double life. Others claimed that perhaps he was not human at all but some sort of monstrosity forged in Chaos that merely took the semblance of a man. While most agreed this was probably not the case, it proved a popular story for parents to frighten children with and earned popularity in that odd and particular niche. The only real possibility that most can agree with that whatever the reason for Emil's vast lifespan, it probably had something to do with the man he met with shortly before his journey began in earnest. He is reported to have met a withered old man at a local inn. This man was bizarre in countless aspects. He seemingly had no retinas and his eyes were a freakish and glassy white hue. He also claimed to be a priest of Sigmar...apparently knowledgeable and even complicit in the complicated politics that had helped Karl Franz be elected to Emperor. Finally, this man always had a crow with jet white feathers follow him around and frequently perch on his shoulder wherever he went. Not only was this pet incredibly rare, the old man could seemingly speak to it and the bird in turn could seemingly have perfectly normal communication with this eccentric man. At this elder's behest, Emil was dissuaded from immediately beginning his great journey by pursuing Skarsnik but instead advised to head further south for The Badlands and to find The Black Orc that was seemingly was causing a greater stir than usual for a warboss. Emil received some sort of vial with a blue liquid in return for this request and then Emil Bickenstadt would begin his great journey determined and ready to begin writing his greatest work...Studies of The WAAAGH!!!

Volume 1: The Very First WAAAGH!!!
WAAAGH!!! Ublug 24-43 AOR (Age of Reckoning)

[Alwyn]

Great start! I'm intrigued by Skarsnik's ruse, the speculation about the nature of Emil (and the reason for his lifespan) and the vial of blue liquid. I look forward to reading more!

[Mercenary2479]

Volume 1: The Very First WAAAGH!!!
Emil Bickenstadt began his journey from traveling out of that fateful inn at Altdorf and made haste to travel through the worlds of men. The Empire was not truly broken yet, but it definitely stood horribly divided and now was a myriad of nations and cultures all claiming loose ties to The Empire, Sigmar, and Ulric. While traveling from place to place and through nation after nation, Emil reflected on the instructions of The Elder imparted down to him. The vial with blue liquid he had been given was apparently called "Contractor's Boon." A powerful elixir freshly concocted in the colleges of magic to be found in Altdorf, apparently this liquid was meant to grant boons to those who honored their agreements, and curses upon those who did not. The agreement Emil made with The Elder was actually fairly complicated, but seemed worthwhile to Emil who could think of nothing better than the chance to acquire power in order to one day avenge Jeremiah and extol his wrath upon Skarsnik. The agreement was that for now Emil would make for The Badlands rather than Skarsnik's domain, and hunt after The Black Orc that apparently was a growing threat to The Old World as a whole. When he arrived, he would write two reports on this Black Orc. One would be delivered to Altdorf, and one would be delivered directly to The Elder. The reports would be identical, but for posterity it was insisted that two copies be made. In return, if Emil drank of the liquid supposedly blessings and boons would fall upon him so long as he did not waver from his task. Emil had always been the honest sort and found such terms perfectly suitable to his personal goals, the glory of his family name, and generally benefited mankind if done properly. Anytime he drank from the liquid, he always felt invigorated, and no matter how much he drank, the liquid's total amount seemingly remained completely unchanged. This was powerful magic indeed. Emil noticed changes in his physique and stature as well. He felt stronger, more lively, and wherever he went and whomever he encountered people treated him with a level of kindness and acceptance that was quite frankly alarming and unnatural. Emil even records an instance where a band of robbers and highwaymen descended upon him, but the moment they came close enough to actually strike him down, they all begged and pleaded for Emil's forgiveness, apparently convinced that Emil was a legendary highwaymen in his own right. They pressed him furiously for stories of his incredible "exploits" and asked him for plans so that they may "perfect their craft." Emil spent the better part of that day spinning tall tales until eventually they left him be and showered him with gifts in gratitude as they left. Emil discovered these goods had been robbed from a village nearby and he pleasantly surprised the villagers who lived there by returning the valuables and not even requiring bloodshed to do so. Even with all the blessings of Contractor's Boon aiding his journey, Emil found the process of traveling The Old World time consuming and he did what he could to pass the time mostly by learning the various languages, cultures, and religions of the Imperial nations as he made for Black Fire Pass. While it was never too difficult to barter for shelter and supplies due to his unnatural and sudden boost in charisma, Emil found that all was not well in the various nations of men. Murmurs and whispers of fear and dissent were commonplace among the common classes, the nobility frequently feuded over whether to join or fight what was left of Karl Franz's Empire, and dire news was traveling fast out of the far east, Svlvania was rapidly emerging as a powerful and horrific threat. Mannfred von Carstein was leading The Midnight Aristocracy on a series of rapid and successful campaigns to unify Sylvania under his dread rule once more, and Vlad von Carstein was undertaking a different and more alarming approach. While Mannfred pushed north, Vlad almost immediately started conquering provinces and the nations of men from his own stronghold as he pushed west. The two vampire lords were dubious allies at best, but it seemed clear that at least for now they weren't going to be fighting one another anytime soon and as long as that was true the nations of men were in danger and rapidly falling under Vlad von Carstein's boot. Emil noted that while on his travels the closer he got to Black Fire Pass, the darker and more twisted the land became. it became difficult to find anyone who would willingly aid him anymore, and he could only watch as he saw droves of human beings reduced to mere cattle for their new vampiric lords. He also discovered the hard way that the gifts of Contractor's Boon had limits, and the vampire lords and their minions did not look upon Emil any differently or more favorably at all. One day while traveling through Vlad's rapidly expanding holdings, Emil was pursued off the road and he was discovered by a vampire lord commanding undead forces no less that happened to be marching west along the same road en route to The Moot. Being pursued by a band of skeletons and zombies, Emil fled for his life as far and as hard as his feet would allow him, but outrunning a vampire lord was an inherently impossible task, and Emil found himself now hopelessly trapped in a dead and foreboding place, staring upon an undead lord who Emil had no doubt would kill him and end his life right then and there. Emil closed his eyes and waited for the end, not willing to stare any longer at this dread lord. Suddenly, a teeming horde of chaos spawn hurled themselves into the undead troop, seemingly materializing out of thin air. A mass of severed limbs and unnatural screams and noises now freely flowed through the air with total disregard for self preservation as the forces of Chaos and the Undead took to tearing one another to pieces completely unphased and not even contemplating the possibility of fear, much less defeat. Emil simply stood dumbfounded and confused until a cloaked figure rushed into the melee, and grabbed Emil in full stride without stopping. Soon Emil was out of danger, and stood in shock as The Elder he had encountered once before in the inn pulled back his hood and showed an almost comical and silly smirk on his face. "It is disappointing to see you grow so careless Emil. But still, you have actually honored your word and can be entrusted to the task I have given you. That is a rare quality these days." Emil found himself burning with questions and could do little better than blurt them out. "How the hell did Chaos get this far south? And how did you possibly know where to find me?" The Elder answered as if the horrible and technically still ensuing melee behind them beyond the tree line could not be more natural. "The spawn I cannot account for, and truly it does not matter, for now all we know is that they provided the distraction we needed to escape. As for finding you, magic with a contractual nature should generally help the interested parties keep tabs on one another yes?" Emil couldn't argue with this logic, and asked what he must do from there. The Elder replied "keep off the roads, continue with your journey into The Badlands and seek out Grimgor Ironhide and report back to me as well as the nobility of Altdorf. You will also be needing this. The Elder simply handed him a new cowl adorned with splotches of muddy greys, browns, and beige patterns. "This will help you blend in to the new locale you will soon be upon. Bright reds and white are all well and good for our brothers in The Imperial Armies, but men like you and I prefer a more subtle approach, yes?" Emil just nodded and donned his new travel attire. The Elder let loose with another seemingly unhinged and slightly insane smirk, and casually walked out of view into that blackness once more, the din of battle still clearly pounding into the senses of Emil. Emil fled the area and would keep to the deepest woods and most untraveled routes from that day forward. According to Emil's accounts, traveling in such a manner finally deprived him of proper food and water supplies, but much to his surprise, Contractor's Boon once again showed it's value. No matter how thirsty or hungry he became, drinking Contractor's Boon seemingly addressed such needs and Emil found the only thing he really had to fear for was being ambushed in his sleep. So every night he would build crude shelters or improvise them out of natural formations to keep away from prying eyes and hungry appetites of the horrific things that now stalked these vampiric lands. Ghouls, Zombies, Skeletons, and many more horrific entities stalked the area but fortunately in the fringes of the country, the undead minions on their own proved fairly stupid and easy to evade. Emil now took to his journey to Black Fire Pass and beyond in earnest, and successfully made the journey and out of vampiric lands shortly thereafter. While humbling and spiritually enriching for Emil to travel the same battleground where Sigmar had won Ghal Maraz and united The Empire, Emil reports that his personal journey through this hallowed place was quite boring and uninspired in comparison. The area was largely devoid of life, and proved to actually be one of the easiest and straightforward part of Emil's journey to The Badlands. Emil then arrived at the domain of The Border Princes, or more accurately what was left of it. Emil gives a very detailed account of refuges fleeing west toward Estalia and Tilea, soldiers and nobility alike fervently and feverishly trying to mount ANY kind of meaningful defense before their foes, and Greenskins flooding into the region unceasingly. The Dwarves fought in the area as well, but they were losing ground and the Greenskin scourge was becoming more and more entrenched into the daily life of The Border Princes. Emil sought no aid from these beleaguered people, as even he could sense that their time in the world of civilization was rapidly coming to a close. He continued on his own and with his new camouflaged full body cowl made good use of the terrain to move through The Badlands unimpeded. At long last what had culminated into a twenty four year journey on foot had ended, and Emil stood before the dread fortress of Black Crag itself. The overwhelming smell and awful din of noise that emanated from that place are described for several stanzas in Emil's work, and apparently were so offensive to the senses that he could not help but write about it in great clarity and at length. Nonetheless, Emil began the task he had been entrusted to so long before, and not long after he started he witnessed Grimgor Ironhide skulking within and beyond Black Crag. Apparently since conquering Black Crag, Grimgor Ironhide had accomplished next to nothing militarily but instead served as a political figurehead necessary to gather the various and warring tribes. He was still a horrific site to behold, and mercilessly slaughtered anything and everyone unfortunate enough to happen to be around him. It seemed clear to Emil that while Grimgor Ironhide was no general by any stretch of the imagination, his sheer bloodlust, aptitude for war, and ultimately building of The Greenskin Clan in the first place had set the stage for much more competent and deadly generals to bask in his glory and conquer in his name. Azhag The Slaughterer (a unique creature in his own right) had been actively leading the military campaigns of The Greenskins on Grimgor's behalf. Emil took the time to report his findings anyway, and received new orders not long thereafter in a parchment delivered by a crow with white feathers. The letter instructed Emil that any further findings on Grimgor were now unnecessary, but instead to diligently stalk and track the armies of The Greenskins, ensuring that their forces never achieve a state of WAAAGH!!! However, if they should do so, Emil was now entrusted to studying the lives and habits of such Greenskins at great length and send back reports in the same fashion he had for Grimgor Ironhide. His first report would be on a Night Goblin named Ublug, who would set the stage for The Greenskins to rule eternally over The Badlands, and change the face of the southern portion of The Old World forever.

[Alwyn]

Emil's journey is done well, I like the way that he manages to return the stolen items to the village, his frightening encounter with the vampire lord and his first impressions of Grimgor Ironhide.

I suggest putting your story in paragraphs, to avoid a 'wall of text' which might put off some readers. (You will be able to edit your own posts when you have 25 posts. One good way to reach 25 posts is to post encouraging comments on other current AARs and creative writing. If you add a signature to your profile with a link to your AAR, then commenting on other stories might also encourage people to discover your AAR. If you need to know how to create and edit your signature, I recommend Shankbot's Unofficial Guide for New Members).

I look forward to seeing how Emil will carry out hsi dangerous new assignment. It sounds like Ublug will be a very important figure in events to come.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

I agree with Alwyn; this is an interesting story, and it moves along well.

Alwyn is also right to say that you should divide it into paragraphs, though. At the moment, it's really rather hard to read, and paragraphs would help enormously with that. It is a good story, and it deserves to be presented well so that people will read it and discover it's good!

[Mercenary2479]

Volume 1: The Very First WAAAGH!!!
By Emil Bickenstadt's account and his studies of The Badlands in general, Ublug was at least at first a rather unremarkable night goblin. There wasn't much room for advancement for almost any of the Greenskins however during the early years of The Greenskin Clan. Azhag The Slaughterer was agreed upon as the best choice to actually lead Grimgor's armies in the continuing war against Gorfang Rotgut and The Red Fangs while Grimgor Ironhide himself remained skulking (and often going on murdering sprees) in Black Crag. Despite Grimgor's colossal clout and abilities as a warrior, countless challengers still had to be put down and reminded of just who was the boss in Black Crag and beyond. Azhag busied himself with strategy however and rapidly managed to bring the remaining territories of Death Valley into the fold. There was a brief setback at Thundering Falls (due to a pyrrhic victory against a Dwarven mining expedition that proved rather costly) but other than that Azhag moved relatively unimpeded against poorly assembled pre-built defenses and managed to lead a consistent and powerful horde in Grimgor's name. However, Azhag The Slaughterer was forced to a dead halt at Valaya's Sorrow. Awaiting him in that fortress was Gorfang Rotgut himself and two vast hordes made mostly of Goblins and some auxiliary Orcish forces. Azhag's army had a heavier emphasis on orcs, and while smaller in numbers could theoretically fight harder and longer than a mostly goblinoid army. On the other hand, through sheer attrition Gorfang Rotgut and his Red Fangs could theoretically carry the day and overwhelm their foe in spite of heavier enemy troops. Two great Greenskin nations now were locked in an odd stare down of sorts. Azhag didn't feel confident enough to assault Valaya's Sorrow head on and furiously paced his camp wondering how he could force Gorfang Rotgut into the open and split his forces to earn an easy victory. Gorfang Rotgut on the other hand waited patiently, confident he could outlast his opponent until Death Valley was inevitably attacked from some other direction and Azhag would be forced to leave. Gorfang Rotgut would then be able to avenge his losses at Black Crag and beyond. Azhag The Slaughterer was reduced to raiding the fringes of Valaya's Sorrow for the time being and this is where Ublug's story begins in earnest.

Azhag The Slaughterer's army remained firmly pitted on the fringes of Valaya's Sorrow and took to raiding against The Red Fangs anywhere and everywhere they could. For Azhag, this served three purposes. Hopefully he could gather some wealth, incite discontent or infighting amongst Gorfang Rotgut's forces, and if he was really lucky instigate a WAAAGH!!! Such a feat hadn't been accomplished in a very long time for The Greenskins, but if anyone could muster the incredible energy of a horde ready and willing to reshape The Old World in their image, Azhag The Slaughterer seemed as good a candidate as any. In terms of wealth and enemy discontent, Azhag The Slaughterer was not particularly successful. Valaya's Sorrow wasn't a very wealthy province to begin with, so there wasn't to be stolen from The Red Fangs that wasn't locked away in the encampment itself. Gorfang Rotgut was still a very competent and deadly warboss (even if he was seemingly too fond of goblins for some reason) and quelled any thoughts of rebellion and discontent in spite of the raids. But Azhag The Slaughterer had accomplished one of his objectives and as it turned out it would be the only one he would truly need to. As his army was kept incessantly busy with killing and stealing over and over again, more and more followers flocked to his banners either from nearby garrisons or simply due to the bizarre and prolific methods of procreation that is natural to The Greenskins. An overwhelming sense of excitement enveloped the army camp and Azhag's numbers swelled and grew by the day. Finally, his army was nearing critical mass and Azhag had to split his own forces in two and now simply awaited for a leader to rise up and competently claim this "second army" for itself. Countless candidates both Orc and Goblin rose and fell clamoring for the honor, but it was Ublug who would eventually stand victorious. Ublug originally hailed from Karak Eight Peaks, but defected from The Crooked Moon Mutinous Git Clan when he felt a presence and unmistakable magic compel him to leave his home and stride into the sunlight and the world outside (a strange mindset for any night goblin). Ublug made his way to Valaya's Sorrow and quickly ascertained that a WAAAGH!!! was gathering along the fringes of the territory. Ublug fell in as one of the army regulars and at first just studied the habits of those trying to claim the army for themselves. The Orcs predictably used brute force and overwhelming martial prowess to try to enforce their claims to be the warboss, while various Goblin lords used tactics that ranged from the insidious to the downright insane frequently using assassination and sabotage to best one another and even the Orcs from time to time. Ublug quickly ascertained that fighting the Orcs on their own terms would be foolish, but that the Goblins could be bested in martial warfare if need be and this was Ublug's initial focus. Whenever a Goblin Warboss claimed the right to lead the horde, Ublug would challenge them to battle and often defeated them with both a deadly grace and poise rarely found in Greenskins at all leaving their maimed and broken bodies in the dirt for all to see. Once he had prevailed however, Ublug would just back off and leave a power vacuum to be filled by the more predictable candidates. Whenever an Orc warboss rose up, Ublug would patiently study for weaknesses and frequently used poison (or the always tried and true method of murder your opponent while they sleep) to eliminate his stronger Orc rivals in ways that didn't require him to fight them one on one. As the horde grew more and more restless and more and more candidates died trying to fill the void, finally the horde demanded that ANYONE try to claim the title and hold onto it. This is when Ublug stepped forward. The Goblin contingents of the horde now hailed him as a hero and even a few of the Orcs had to admit Ublug was pretty efficient with a sword. One Orc named Burgit however refused to accept that a Goblin was going to lead the horde and challenged Ublug to battle. Ublug accepted and a fierce fight ensued. Burgit had the obvious advantage in strength, but Ublug skillfully parried each and every attack and settled for rapid jabs and slashes rather than expose himself just for the chance at a killing blow. Minutes lapsed into hours, and the melee raged on to the wild and excited cheers of the horde, eager to see who would be worthy of leading them. Burgit slowed with each strike however, and blows meant to kill had now been reduced to clumsy and half hearted swings. Ublug continued his onslaught, and finally Burgit collapsed into the dirt...killed due to massive blood loss. The cheers erupted into a horrific roar and all of Valaya's Sorrow shook with the intensity of a realization...the WAAAGH!!! was now ready to move and now had their rightful leader.

Ublug wasted little time studying what he had to work with and was pleasantly surprised by the results. His appointment as warboss had infuriated many Orcs, and many of them had simply left for other prospects. A few remained, curious and eager to fight to matter WHO it was exactly leading them. Ublug was lucky enough to have just a few units of Orcs and not much more. It was enough to add legitimacy and intimidation to his claim as a warboss of The WAAAGH!!!, but not nearly enough that they could acquire any serious notions about civil war or trying to seize power for themselves. Basically, Ublug had managed to keep the Orcs that just REALLY wanted to kill things, and the others were no longer an issue since they had defected. Goblins however had flocked to Ublug's banner in massive numbers and brought all manner of weapons and tactics to the fray. Whether it was with light infantry, cavalry, or skirmishing forces Ublug had a variety of battlefield capabilities to play with. The only major weakness in Ublug's army is that it wasn't going to have a great deal of staying power in an extended melee if Ublug was foolish enough to fall into one. After hearing of Ublug's successful ascension to warboss, Azhag The Slaughterer spent the better part of the day cleaning his gear and awaiting for Ublug to swear his loyalty and report to him. Ublug wasted no time with such idiocy however, and gave the order immediately for his army to move for Valaya's Sorrow and leaving Azhag The Slaughterer both stunned and insulted.

Ublug marched into battle and immediately forced Gorfang Rotgut into an engagement at Valaya's Sorrow. The prospect of victory seemed slim, but Ublug had put much more planning into this move than it seemed. Gorfang Rotgut predictably pressed forward hoping to overwhelm and flood over Ublug with sheer numbers. Ublug split his army in two and frequently skirmished and harassed Gorfang Rotgut on his flanks with cavalry and archers...ignoring the center line of his opponent completely. The entire battle became a series of isolated and seemingly random skirmishes scattered all over the battleground and any real sense of a concrete pitched battle vanished...until Azhag The Slaughterer arrived on the battlefield and joined in the fighting. Azhag's heavy infantry and harder hitting forces had no difficulty scattering and crushing the various pockets of resistance and simply took to the battlefield in an incredible wave. Ublug pressed hard in a joint effort with Azhag and ran down most of Gorfang's forces that tried to flee. Gorfang Rotgut was wounded and carted away, and his army had been utterly annihilated. Ublug then and only then reported to Azhag The Slaughterer. Valaya's Sorrow fell in a lopsided massacre shortly thereafter, and it would be considered the last time Gorfang Rotgut would actually mount any meaningful resistance to the Greenskin Clan expansions.

Ublug then took to improving his army from that day forward. Ublug's Orcs were put in a separate camp to ensure they felt like they were special (and were kept well away from their warboss in case they had ideas of killing him), built a MASSIVE bodyguard of Goblins to safeguard him, and even built a small mobile arena with wheels to help settle disputes and keep bloodletting in the camp at "civil" levels. Ublug even added a personal prize to his own repertoire from Gorfang's treasure trove, a large chunk of rock that seemingly could absorb magic right out of the air in eccentric and strangely hypnotizing patterns. It was certainly entertaining to watch (that probably would have been enough) but the fact it seemingly made Ublug harder to kill with magic was certainly quite the boon. With his army improved, his own armory strengthened, and generally in a promising position, Ublug quickly showed a keen interest in army tactics on the battlefield and emphasized it far more so than personal fighting prowess or army logistical concerns. The lions share of weapons, armor, and "exercises" were emphasized in Ublug's army at all times in the hope of keeping them fighting fit and occupied. In spite of all these "reforms," Ublug quickly was faced with a massive problem...his army was growing more and more bored by the day. The lofty expectations of The WAAAGH!!! are an incredibly daunting task to maintain, and Ublug was having a hard time matching the incredible and intense fighting that Valaya's Sorrow had offered. Even following Azhag The Slaughterer to battle after battle and victory after victory did little to ease the restlessness now infecting Ublug's army. Simply put, there weren't many major opponents left, and The Greenskin Clan grew exponentially swallowing a huge portion of the Southern Badlands in a series of lopsided battles. Ublug was frequently drawn away from what he wanted to do, and instead had to spend the bulk of his time talking down (or killing if need be) various malcontents that constantly complained and moaned in camp about how unbearable it was to not a massive battle to look forward to each and every day. Finally, the grumbling in Ublug's army reached critical mass when Azhag The Slaughterer made a fateful decision...for a single moment he stopped moving, and that was all that was required for the events that followed. Azhag The Slaughterer was given word by Grimgor Ironhide that Black Crag had improved it's facilities, and that the prospect of recruiting Big Un's for more than guard duty and in an "organized" manner was now possible. Eager to test out even herder hitting infantry than he already had, Azhag wasted little time returning to Black Crag and pitching camp. Meanwhile, Ublug's army absolutely lost all semblance of control and order. The thought of physically stopping for anything was unacceptable in the eyes of Ublug's army, and almost overnight a fierce and bloody riot ensued. Speeches, war games, shows of murder on his own behalf were of no avail and Ublug could do nothing more than desperately fight for his own life as his army took to furiously murdering itself from the inside out. When the dust settled and morning finally came, Ublug was dead and his corpse was found casually sprawled with almost his entire army on the fields of Black Crag. As swiftly as it appeared WAAAGH!!! Ublug was over. It's impact to The Badlands as a whole was undeniable however. It had returned the initiative to Azhag The Slaughterer, destroyed Gorfang Rotgut's and ultimately the Red Fangs powerbase forever, and cut a huge swath of the Central and Southern Badlands and given them to Grimgor Ironhide and The Greenskin Clan forevermore.

Volume 2: The Kleptomaniac King
WAAGH!!! Crusher Teefrobba 60-73 AOR (Age of Reckoning)

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Thank you for the paragraphs, Mercenary2479! They do help to make this more readable.

Ublug is an interesting character, isn't he? He seems always to have been thinking three moves ahead of anyone else.

I look forward to finding out about the title character of volume 2.

[Alwyn]

It sounds like the rise (and sudden downfall) of Ublug made a significant contribution to the rise of Grimgor Ironhide and the Greenskin Clan. I look forward to reading about the Kleptomaniac King!

[Mercenary2479]

Volume 2: The Kleptomaniac King
After WAAAGH!!! Ublug's destruction, Emil Bickenstadt for now was seemingly free to pursue what goals he liked, and nothing pleased Emil Bickenstadt more than the thought of Jeremiah avenged, and Skarsnik murdered and removed from the face of The Old World. Emil then wasted little time pressing to the northwest, hopeful to use the mountain passes to work back towards Skarsnik's fortress and hopefully avoid the near encounter with The Vampire Lords that had nearly killed him north of Black Fire Pass. To avoid a repeat of this incident, Emil mapped out a route through the eastern stretch of The Black Mountains that would expedite his passing and allow to remain in lands that were mostly "civilized." Emil's accounts a relatively straightforward and easy journey toward his destination until he arrived at the fringes of Karak Angazbar. As Emil traveled on, he wrote in great detail about the forlorn and seemingly abandoned Karak, a testament to the failure of The Dwarves in this place and now appeared to be nothing more than a smoldering ruin. However, right as we was about to pass this ruin completely, Emil was taken completely by surprise when several Dwarves armed with axes and crossbows rushed him with terrible war cries and fierce resolve. Emil was stunned that anyone lived here at all and the only response he could muster was to surrender and throw up his hands in submission. The Dwarves spoke Khazalid, but did not speak in the manling tongue, making the encounter even more intimidating and confusing. Emil was promptly stripped of his gear, captured, and taken into The Karak itself as a prisoner to a Dwarf hold that apparently was not a ruin after all, but a mighty fortress of Dwarven activity that was very much alive.

The caves and tunnel networks underground grew more and more lively with the humming of machinery, the chanting and speaking of Dwarves in Khazalid, the clanging of steel for mining and smithing operations, and the hollow crackling and roaring of great fires melting ores into ever more complex shapes and weapons. Before long, Emil was hopelessly lost in this labyrinth of caves, tunnels, and mines and even if he were able to escape truly had no idea how he would ever find the entrance again. Nonetheless, Emil had to try and in vain he tried every dialect and tongue he knew to try and communicate with his captors. Most of them just grunted with disgust and continued to beckon him deeper and deeper into the Karak, but a few varied from this by giving Emil the occasional crack on the skull from the butt of a crossbow or ax. Before long, Emil gave up and just complied and hoped that he would find SOMEONE who could speak in the normal manling tongue. His long dismal march came to an end as he now stared at a long ornate hallway filled with portraits, weapons, various jewels and treasures, and maps littering several tables in front of a simple but regal stone Dwarven throne. Sitting upon it was a Dwarf with a long, thin, grey mustache and a heavy faceplate covering the bulk of the rest of his face. He would have looked like a simple warrior were it not for the remaining contingents of his armor and his retinue making it clear that this Dwarf was MUCH MUCH more than a mere foot soldier. His back was adorned with wild ornate carvings gleaming with white and blue symbols that stretched longer than the length of his whole body, and served to give him a "tall" appearance despite being a Dwarf. To his left and right stood dead Dwarves that had somehow defied the afterlife, and stood to the sides of the Dwarf with hateful eyes, hollow bodies that could be seen clear through, and a bright glowing blue aura that encompassed most of the room. The Dwarf wasted little time staring at Emil with a fervent intensity and broke a silence that seemed to last for an eternity with a clear but gruff introduction. "I am Belegar Ironhammer, the true King of Karak Eight Peaks, and you have been brought before me for judgement servant of Chaos."

Emil's mind now raced furiously for a response. Yes he had found a Dwarf who could speak manling, but now it had been made clear that the Dwarves of this place we're probably going to kill him, especially if they believed he served The Chaos Gods. Emil did everything in his power not to panic completely, and just waited for the appropriate time to speak on his own behalf, Dwarves took customs and courtesies very seriously after all. Actually, now that Emil thought about it for a moment Dwarves seemed to take EVERY facet of existence rather seriously. Belegar continued as the human stood seemingly listless. "Do you have ANYTHING to say for yourself wretched servant of the dark, or has even the most basic facets of decency and manners been hammered out of you by The Chaos Gods?" Emil knew this was his best chance to survive this and replied in as gentle but as loud a voice as he could muster "My lord, my name is Emil Bickenstadt and I am no servant of Chaos. I hail from Altdorf and have been adventuring to-" "SILENCE YOU WRETCHED SNAKE!!!" boomed throughout the hall as Emil was interrupted. Belegar continued with a tangible anger permeating his words: "Listen well servant of Chaos, I care not how well you have rehearsed your lies. You WILL be destroyed and your foul purpose prevented. Now tell me the truth. Which Chaos God do you serve? Tzeentch? Khorne? Which one manling?" Emil protested "My lord, I assure you I AM NO SERVANT OF CHAOS!!! My family is well spoken of as playwrights among the manlings, I have traveled from Altdorf to The Moot, then to The Badlands, and finally here." Belegar just let loose a heavy and disgusted sigh as if legitimately disappointed by an unworthy adversary to his wit. "Manling, you are no servant of Khorne for you are far too passive and weak. You do not seem to exude nearly enough charisma to merit you being of Slaanesh, and Nurgle clearly hasn't tainted your flesh. Yet you stick to your lie, no matter how absurd and clear the evidence to the contrary. You are of Tzeentch, and THIS is the proof." Belegar uplifted in his hand a very obvious and important object to Emil's journey thus far, that same bright blue vial of liquid known as Contractor's Boon. Emil finally could no longer maintain his poise and his voice began to waver "That was given to me by an elder of The Colleges of Magic! Please I am no-" Belegar simply waved his hand to dismiss Emil from speaking and simultaneously Emil felt himself grabbed and rather violently thrown headfirst and pinned down to one of the tables before the throne by stalwart Dwarven hands. "Belegar simply stared at Emil from this point forward and growled at Emil from visibly bared teeth: "Altdorf...The Moot...The Badlands...and now here. You've come a long way foul servant. You're going to die regardless, so you might as well tell me, who is your REAL target?" Emil could only watch as a Dwarf behind him quickly charged the table Emil was now pinned to yelling Khazalid curses, ax in hand, presumably soon to behead him. Emil's mind could barely believe what was unfolding. After everything he had endured, after every journey, every great work written, after working so hard for so long to avenge his brother only to have it end like this was too much. Emil just wrestled against his captors in vain as much as he could and yelled in a louder voice than he had ever used before in his life. "One final curse, one final show of defiance to his REAL enemy." He thought to himself, "DAMN YOU SKARSNIK!!!"

The halls echoed with the name of that particular Goblin seemingly for an eternity and it audibly repeated itself many times before finally subsiding, punctuating the effect. Belegar raised his hand once more and quickly stood from his throne visibly moved from this final outburst. The charging soldier hastily sheathed his weapon and backed away from Emil in sheer amazement. Belegar walked until he was face to face with Emil and tears could be seen gliding along the metal mask that covered The exiled King's face. He asked in a trembling voice that conveyed sincerity "SO...you too have had your life twisted and torn by that damnable wretch and master of deception known as Skarsnik? Tell me everything manling. Tell me what ruin he brought to your life as well." Emil was suddenly freed from the table and he told Belegar everything there was to tell about his journey thus far. He told Belegar all he could recall about Jeremiah's death, The Elder, Contractor's Boon, The Moot, The Badlands, WAAAGH!!! Ublug, and now his arrival here to the throne room of an exiled King. Belegar in turn told his own sad and twisted story, recalling in great length how Skarsnik had forced him from his home, and using deception denied him his birthright and killed his kin several times over. He told Emil how he had fought Skarsnik and The Crooked Moons once again, but was steadily being pushed south and was losing the war as a whole. This was his last refuge, and for now it had stood largely due to deception and being tactically too far south for Skarsnik to realistically engage. Belegar's face hardened once more however "Manling, I believe you when you say you don't serve Chaos KNOWINGLY, but there is something you must know. I suspect this Elder you have mentioned is much more than he claims to be and in particular I want you to see something related to what YOU call Contractor's Boon." "BRING ME MY RUNESMITH!" he bellowed and the halls reverberated with the order.

A Dwarf with gleaming white hair and a boxed haircut entered the hall and bowed in an absurdly rehearsed and artificial manner, "You called for me King Ironhammer?" "Yes." replied The Exiled King, "Please show the manling the true nature of the contents of that vial we recovered from him. He is not a willing servant of Chaos, I know this now but perhaps I can do my part to free him with the truth." The Runesmith simply nodded his head in response and pulled a runestone from a gaudy and heavy anvil he carried along his back. The Anvil gleamed with hundreds of white symbols and glyphs, yet the Runsemith only pulled one Runestone off of that anvil and proceeded to press it against the vial of Contractor's Boon with immediate and horrifying effects. A distinct and intense series of screams could be heard from the vial, and the echoing effect of the hallway made many Dwarven warriors sink to the floor or flee the room outright in fear. The liquid within quickly morphed from it's beautiful and pearlescent blue to a sickly all consuming black and tendrils seemingly spawned from it furiously lashing at the rune but recoiling every time they touched it. A sort of macabre dance followed, as neither the vial nor the powers of the rune yielded an inch and this dance of opposite forces lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Emil just started in utter amazement while Belegar Ironhammer simply stared at the spectacle completely unphased. After a time, Belegar Ironhammer raised his hand, and The Runesmith took this symbol alone as all the guidance he needed to remove the rune and end the cacophonous incident outright. The vial quickly returned to it's normal blue shades, and it's violent aggressive capabilities faded away...seemingly no more than a harmless liquid once more. Emil suddenly vomited violently all over the floor, and noticed the excrement that had just evacuated his body was the same...that same all consuming and sickly shade of black that seemed so dark it defied the natural order of life. Belegar helped Emil to his feet and a serious but caring demeanor was conveyed with his following words. "THAT unfortunately flows through your body now, but all is not lost manling. It is still possible to be free of it, you simply will have to find this Elder you have described and kill him. I have little doubt he is a servant of Chaos, though of what tier and to what Chaos God I cannot say. I can help you with that. But in turn, I will need YOUR help as well to perhaps give ME hope to return to my beloved Karak Eight Peaks successfully one day. Emil felt his strength gradually return and asked "What can I do to thank you in return for showing me the truth? One day we will BOTH be freed of Skarsnik, but this threat is greater I fear, and it must be removed lest ALL life be consumed."

So for the next seventeen years Belegar had Emil Bickenstadt officially become a member of Belegar Ironhammer's court. Emil also took the time to rewrite and recreate his prior works and reports for King Ironhammer but had to do so in Khazalid, which took time since Emil had to learn THAT entire language from scratch as well. Belegar Ironhammer in turn rewarded Emil with a home for that timeframe and for the first time in Emil's life, gave him tutors and training in martial combat, particularly with light one handed axes. Emil finally knew how to and possessed the weapons and armor necessary to defend himself, and Belegar Ironhammer for a time was blessed with a very capable diplomat, scribe, and translator. But unfortunately, The white crow came again and Emil knew it was time. He gave his thanks to Belegar Ironhammer, who he was now a close friend with, but explained what had happened and left Karak Angazbar for the last time. It was time to carry out whatever foul work this "master" had planned, and whenever he was free of his latest task, he was going to find a way to ultimately do it. He was going to hunt down and kill The Elder once and for all...

[Alwyn]

Good update! I like your description of the sounds of the dwarven mines (humming, chanting, speaking, clanging, crackling and roaring). The exchanges between characters crackle with energy, I enjoyed the confrontation between Emil and Belegar. When reporting dialogue, you might want to put each reply on a new line, for example:-

--

Belegar continued as the human stood seemingly listless. "Do you have ANYTHING to say for yourself wretched servant of the dark, or has even the most basic facets of decency and manners been hammered out of you by The Chaos Gods?"

Emil knew this was his best chance to survive this and replied in as gentle but as loud a voice as he could muster "My lord, my name is Emil Bickenstadt and I am no servant of Chaos. I hail from Altdorf and have been adventuring to-"

"SILENCE YOU WRETCHED SNAKE!!!" boomed throughout the hall as Emil was interrupted. Belegar continued with a tangible anger permeating his words: "Listen well servant of Chaos, I care not how well you have rehearsed your lies. You WILL be destroyed and your foul purpose prevented. Now tell me the truth. Which Chaos God do you serve? Tzeentch? Khorne? Which one manling?"

Emil protested "My lord, I assure you I AM NO SERVANT OF CHAOS!!! My family is well spoken of as playwrights among the manlings, I have traveled from Altdorf to The Moot, then to The Badlands, and finally here."

--

Of course, you do not have to this. I am suggesting this because it can make dialogue easier to follow.

Emil's diligence is impressive, learning the language of Khazalid so that he can recreate his writing for King Ironhammer. I wonder if Emil will be able to find The Elder - and what will happen if he does.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Well, that's an interesting development. Emil's life seems to have completely changed direction. I'm intrigued to know who the Elder really is!

[Mercenary2479]

Volume 2: The Kleptomaniac King
As Emil Bickenstadt left Karak Angazbar, the orders imparted to him by The Elder through the crow troubled his thoughts. Apparently back in The Badlands Azhag The Slaughterer was doing very well for himself, and had managed to raise yet another WAAAGH!!! to his banner. The latest warboss to take up the mantle of the WAAAGH!!! was called Crusher Teefrobba, and at the time had gathered a massive and impressive host outside of Barak Varr. The Elder had a new set of orders however, and they were much more direct than what had come before. This time around Emil Bickenstadt supposedly now had to find a way not only to track and report the activities of this warboss like he had done before for Ublug, but ALSO to somehow in some way force Crusher Teefrobba to drink Contractor's Boon. Emil could piece together easily enough why The Elder would want to do this, binding the warboss to The Forces of Chaos would make for an immediate and impactful asset in war. Still, which Chaos God The Elder actually served and ultimately how a greenskin army would factor into the plans of Chaos was still a mystery worth pondering. Regardless, Emil had no intentions of furthering the plans of The Elder, but he also was magically bound to try to fulfill the objectives handed down to him. Somehow he would have to find a way to accomplish both. So Emil proceeded through the ruins of what was once the domain of The Border Princes and reentered the bleak and horrific realm teeming with greenskins known simply as The Badlands. He arrived at Barak Varr shortly thereafter and these were his accounts of the Orc warboss that would eventually become known as The Kleptomaniac King:

Crusher Teefrobba was from Emil's accounts a hulking and massive Orc, and it seemed clear that even from the years of his infancy that Crusher Teefrobba was physically growing at an alarming rate and was projected to at least become a Big Un. He served in his early years doing the typical jobs one would expect from such a post such as bullying goblins and lesser orcs to ensure they carry out their tasks, generally protecting important warbosses and retinues, and engaging in fights to prove his prowess and eliminate dissenters. Crusher had been his name from birth, but "Teefrobba" was a surname he had been given by his colleagues and it annotated a unique quirk about Crusher that would follow him all of his life. Crusher Teefrobba LOVED stealing things, and would frequently have episodes of trembling and chuckling excitedly to himself right before he would rush off and acquire some "great prize" to add to his ever growing trove of "valuables." However, to anyone that knew him for a decent period of time it became clear that Crusher Teefrobba didn't steal things for their value, he stole them for the chemical rush of adrenaline he received every time he stole something that wasn't his, regardless of how valuable the object actually did (or more often didn't prove to be). Pots, furs, tools, and all manner of flotsam and junk filled Crusher's tent but he never seemed to mind the reduced living space. Occasionally, he would by sheer dumb luck found he had stolen something that was actually useful such as a powerful weapon or armor piece. It didn't happen often, but it occurred often enough to ensure Crusher was well equipped and well motivated to keep stealing and killing over and over again. Crusher Teefrobba was serving as a Big Un in Azhag's Army and that is when Crusher Teefrobba became much more than just a bodyguard, and would start a journey that would end in infamy in greenskin culture forevermore.

Azhag The Slaughterer had successfully finished off The Red Fangs during WAAAGH!!! Ublug, and now moved north confident that he could take the fight to Thorgrim Grudgebearer and The Dwarven Realms directly. Outfitted with Big Uns rather than mere Orc Boyz in his mainline infantry, Azhag now had the staying power to fight much harder and longer in a protracted melee if need be. Azhag started with sweeps of relatively undefended Karaks in The Blood River Valley, but encountered a unique obstacle at Barak Varr. Sitting inside this particular Karak was a large army of The Dwarven Relams personally commanded by Ungrim Ironfist, The Slayer King. Azhag laid siege to the Karak and most of his advisers agreed that taking the Karak through direct assault would be extremely difficult if not impossible due to the sheer volume of enemy forces inside as well as the formidable nature of the defenses. Azhag was not deterred by this however and came up with a very easy solution: if taking the Karak by assault was impossible, starving everyone inside was a much easier and less dangerous alternative. The only drawback to this approach was that it was going to take time, and such time might afford Thorgrim Grudgebearer and The Dwarven Realms time to regroup and counterattack from Karaz-a-Karak, The Dwarven capital. Azhag had the initiative, but to maintain it would have to use the raw and unpredictable power of The WAAAGH!!! once more. This is where Crusher Teefrobba would come into play and his story begin proper.

Azhag The Slaughterer was gaining more and more followers with each passing day as the siege of Barak Varr continued. The grumbling and complaining of the garrison inside served as a sort of macabre music to the encroaching greenskins, made even sweeter once those cries became of legitimate anguish as soldiers began to die due to disease and starvation. Once again Azhag's army sweltered and grew to the point that the only logical move left was to split the army in two, and hope that some worthy leader would emerge to command the second half of the horde. Candidates began to emerge by the dozens, and Crusher Teefrobba wasted little time cleaving through opponent after opponent as they dared to challenge him for supremacy. Emil Bickenstadt went to great length in his work detailing Crusher Teefrobba's incredible aptitude for fighting combined with as Emil put it sheer dumb luck: "In the few instances this brute isn't violently disemboweling his opposition, he seems to be going on journeys and side trips that suit his fancy which without fail seem to be taken at the best possible time. I cannot recall how many assassinations, overwhelming foes in the arena, and certain demises Crusher Teefrobba managed to evade not through any great planning on his part but for seemingly having an unnatural talent for being at the right place at the right time." After a short (but very successful) interval of stealing and murdering, Crusher Teefrobba was out of legitimate rivals to challenge his claim and WAAAGH!!! Crusher Teefrobba was now well underway.

Crusher Teefrobba had nothing short of a VERY formidable army at his command. Set with Big Uns, Orc Boyz, Boar Boyz, and even Squig herds this was a force that could hold it's own in a melee. The forces within the army itself exclaimed excitedly that if troop quality was an indicator for success in a WAAAGH!!!, then quite frankly Crusher Teefrobba had already beaten his predecessor Ublug. No one questioned Crsuher's right to lead, and the fact he was a hulking and powerful Orc warrior certainly was no detriment to morale. Azhag The Slaughterer wasted little time meeting this newest warboss and presented him with a great challenge. Azhag explained that while the siege of Barak Varr was continuing to be a success, more pressure was needed for the campaign as a whole and to maintain the impetus of the invasion WAAAGH!!! Crusher Teefrobba would have to press on with more attacks in The Blood River Valley, and more importantly do so unaided by the parent army. Crusher Teefrobba knew this was an opportunity for immense glory, and wasted little time accepting the directive. He ordered his army to move out the very next day en route to Varenka Hills, a nearby and seemingly poorly defended Karak.

When Crusher Teefrobba arrived at Varenka Hills he shuddered with excitement at the thought of all The Dwarves he now had the opportunity to kill, and all the things he could steal from them. Despite their warboss being very eager for the action ahead, Crusher's army was given a little more to think about. In the time it had taken for the WAAAGH!!! to traverse from Barak Varr to Varenka Hills the Dwarven garrison and the walls they hid behind were now considerably more fortified. A supposedly simple task had suddenly become a bit more involved. Crusher Teefrobba's initial plan to take Varenka Hills had initially involved crudely patching a battering ram together, using ladders to scale the walls, and generally flooding over and decimating the enemy garrison. Now that the tactical reality of what the garrison was capable of had changed, Crusher's closest advisers and tribal allies now congregated in a war room eager to see (and hopefully in some small way contribute) to the new battle plans to take the Karak. They were quickly amazed and horrified when Crusher Teefrobba plainly declared that there was no need to change ANYTHING about the plan, grabbed his sword, left the war room, and started rousing the camp and preparing for battle. His retinues then furiously tried to cobble a more realistic approach together while Crusher Teefrobba simply bellowed out a great war cry and the battle for Varenka Hills unceremoniously began. The battle began with harsh losses for WAAAGH!!! Crusher Teefrobba as scores of arrows, bullets, and cannonball fell upon the greenskin horde. Despite this, Crusher Teefrobba personally led the onslaught as ladder after ladder latched onto the wall and fierce fighting began to echo along the walls of Varenka Hills. The battering ram was destroyed by enemy projectile fire, and it became clear that the walls were now the focal point of battle. Crusher's allies and closest supporting generals did all they could to create some semblance of formations, alternate battle plans, or truthfully anything to avert the seemingly impending disaster of an operation that Crusher Teefrobba had just orchestrated. They were largely unsuccessful and did little more than be swept up in the furious tide and charge onto the walls, and most were killed either by withering fire from The Dwarves or from protracted and fierce fighting atop the walls themselves. A few were even recorded to be trampled underfoot by their own soldiers trying to get to the rear of the formation but unable to do so. Crusher Teefrobba did next to nothing to tactically contribute to his armies movement, but it is said that hundreds of the finest Dwarven warriors fell personally by his blade, and it was made clear that whatever qualities he lacked as a general, he more than made up for in martial prowess and the ability to inspire the troops who fought alongside him. Finally, Crusher Teefrobba made his most spectacular move of the battle yet, hurling himself off the wall and directly on top of the Dwarven captain of the garrison breaking his own fall and impaling the poor Dwarf at near terminal velocity with his sword. Death was instant and panic and chaos finally started to etch it's way into the hearts of the remaining defenders. When the dust cleared, Varenka Hills finally had fallen and the banner of Crusher Teefrobba now flew proudly over the Karak. Every Dwarf to the last had either been killed in battle or eaten alive as a prisoner thereafter. While "touring" the now ransacked Karak, Crusher found a cauldron filled with still boiling and molten gold, presumably for some Dwarven weapon or jewelry. Crusher Teefrobba then dipped his blade directly into the cauldron and pulled it back out, which now gleamed with a golden skin covering the blade and trails of blood and gore now permanently and perfectly preserved within that veil of gold.

While Crusher Teefrobba "toured" and reveled in his victory in Varenka Hills, Azhag The Slaughterer took a brief break from siege works in Barak Varr and took a personal visit to the newest conquest of Varenka Hills. Azhag left some of his more loyal lieutenants to conduct affairs until he returned but nonetheless left several "fail safes" to constantly monitor and eliminate them if signs of dissent began to show. What he saw at Varenka Hills quite frankly, infuriated him. Although unescorted by his own forces, Azhag couldn't help but be frustrated at what little remained of Crusher Teefrobba's army. A capable and strong force of twenty units strong had left for Varenka Hills. What remained was now less than half of that, some seven units or so had been fortunate enough to survive and it now seemed clear that after just ONE battle, Crusher Teefrobba's damage potential and threat range might very well have already been diminished. Azhag The Slaughterer argued and shouted at Crusher Teefrobba directly, and for the remainder of their military careers they would be fierce political rivals to one another.

Azhag The Slaughterer returned to Barak Varr and finally after what seemed like an eternity assaulted Barak Varr directly, easily overwhelming Ungrim Ironfist and what few soldiers that hadn't starved to death. Due to animosity between the two, as well as Azhag's perceived incompetence in Crusher Teefrobba, Azhag wasted little time ensuring that Crusher Teefrobba's army was given nothing significant to do after the Varenka Hills disaster. Azhag The Slaughterer was seemingly now poised to personally lead the onslaught into Karaz-a-Karak itself and deal the death blow to The Dearven Realms that would end the war outright with Crusher Teefrobba on the sidelines. However, as Azhag The Slaughterer reached the outskirts of the famed Dwarven capital, it was made clear that Thorgrim Grudgebearer had not been idle while the greenskins had been ransacking The Blood River Valley, but rather had been preparing for this very eventuality. Thorgrim now had an army of his own at the ready positioned outside the gates of Karaz-a-Karak and the two armies stared each other down. Azhag pressed the attack and the battle of Karaz-a-Karak began proper, the largest and most significant conflict of the entire war up to that point.

Despite initiating the battle Azhag The Slaughterer was content to let the enemy come to him once the field of battle was actually joined, and set up his army with his best infantry in the front, and archers and artillery positions protected behind them. Thorgrim Grudgebearer wasted little time seizing the initiative, gathered the two different elements of his army into one, and marched his army forward with a similar setup to Azhag placing his best infantry at the forefront and more vulnerable units such as archers and artillery well behind the battle line. The Dwarven advance was at first harassed and endured harsh casualties as the already emplaced greenskin catapult emplacements inflected harsh losses on the units unfortunate enough to be first fell into range. Thorgrim kept close to the front however and successfully encouraged his men to weather the bombardment and keep pressing forward. Thorgrim Grudgebearer was reported to be one of the first Dwarves to crash into the enemies frontline and his army followed close behind him as a fierce melee ensued. Azhag The Slaughterer was content to lead from behind for now and simply ensured his artillery kept firing, his archers continued to hound enemy advances, and that the Big Uns kept fighting hard in the frontline. However, it wasn't enough. Thorgrim Grudgebearer had performed incredibly well in the melee and already the center of Azhag's line was beginning to buckle before his furious and personal onslaught. To make matters worse, Thorgrim had assembled his army to arrive into melee range in waves, ensuring that fresh troops consistently made it to the frontline to bolster and support those who had already been stuck in the fighting for longer durations. Thorgrim's own archers and artillery were beginning to fall into position as well and before the inferior armor quality of the Orcs, gave a good account of themselves and softened up the enemy lines. All Azhag The Slaughterer could do was commit the bulk of his remaining forces, himself included into the fray at the center hoping to overwhelm and kill Thorgrim Grudgebearer. Despite this desperate gambit, none of Azhag's forces including Azhag himself ever really came close to killing The Dwarven King and as The Dwarves cut right through the enemy center the battle was concluded shortly thereafter as Azhag's army was put to flight. Azhag's artillery corps escaped intact however and were the only real unit that day that had inflicted meaningful casualties upon the enemy. As Azhag fled back to The Blood River Valley to nurse his wounds and rebuild his army, Crusher Teefrobba had plans of his own after watching the battle of Karaz-a-Karak unfold. In a show of disgust and rage with his most hated foe, Crusher Teefrobba grabbed the war banners of Grimgor Ironhide throughout his camp, threw them to the dirt in a pile, and burned them. Crusher Teefrobba was still a warboss, but now he was a warboss that answered to no one. He fled into the underway with his forces shortly thereafter eager to recruit more forces and evade pursuit or retaliation from Azhag The Slaughterer.

Azhag was in no position to give chase anyway, as for now he was the last remaining line of defense against Throgrim if he pressed a counterattack. It was on this day, his followers jokingly gave Crusher Teefrobba the nickname "The Kleptomaniac King." Crusher took it as no joke, and instead adopted the title and would be known as such forevermore. Thorgrim Grudgebearer however did not give chase to Azhag as to do so would be to face Azhag's army unsupported by the forces of the capital. Historians debate (Emil Bickenstadt included) if this might have been the best chance for Throgrim Grudgebearer to turn he tide of war if only he had pressed the attack. It might have been possible to destroy Azhag's now crippled army outright and regained the impetus of the war. Regardless, such speculation proved moot as Thorgrim for now was content to continue solidifying his borders rather than reinvading The Blood River Valley and beyond. Azhag The Slaughterer would go on to rebuild and replace most of his losses and at a later date would invade Karaz-a-Karak once again.

Crusher Tefrobba meanwhile, kept very busy and gathered more and more orcs in The Underway to his banner and before long his armies matched the size and strength they once had when he initially rose to power. The Kleptomaniac King had created an objective that was very tangible and exciting for many a Orc: the thought of actually usurping and taking down Grimgor Ironhide himself at Back Crag, truly there could be no more loftier or glorious objective than that. Crusher Teeefrobba still had to put down the occasional challenger, but this usually only served to keep Crusher's formidable fighting skills sharp and validate his claim that he would one day be "Da top boss." There were plenty of riches in The Underway that kept distracting and pulling Crusher into fits of tracking down and stealing various treasures and in so doing added more and more elegant weapons, armor, and riches to the repertoire of Crusher Teefrobba. This served a purpose as well, with a clear and direct line to any destination now impossible due to Crusher being constantly distracted, trying to track him and his army down proved infuriatingly difficult. Grimgor sent more and more goblin spies in the efforts to track down this rebel, but they never succeeded in gathering consistent or meaningful information as to the whereabouts or movements of the self styled Kleptomaniac King. Soon Crusher Teefrobba had become a sort of urban legend, a hero among the discontent greenskins throughout The Badlands. His ranks swelled as a result and tens of thousands of greenskins from all over The Old World now heralded Crusher Teefrobba as their warboss. It took far longer than it should have, but eventually Crusher Teefrobba and his army were now in position just outside of Black Crag and surfaced. The ground shook and the air vibrated with the furious and excited war cries of WAAAGH!!! Crusher Teefrobba as it surfaced and revealed itself for the first time since the battle of Karaz-a-Karak. This army was now poised to and promptly laid siege to Black Crag. Grimgor Ironhide and the Greenskin Clan as a whole was now seemingly in great jeopardy. A few days into the siege however, Crusher Teefrobba grew more and more restless. He felt something calling to him, begging him to be stolen. Crusher Teefrobba spent days just staring at the fortress of Black Crag, muttering to himself, seemingly growing more and more tense. After a time however, Crusher Teefrobba could take the suspense no more and without informing any of his fellow commanders or the army as a whole, scaled the walls of Black Crag determined to find this incredible item, this item that had practically been begging to be found. Crusher instantly felt a sense of relief once he made it onto the other side of Black Crag, most of the guards had either been drunk or just not paying attention and it seemed to bode well for the battle to come. It also boded well that whatever this thing was, if it was powerful enough to tug upon the consciousness of The Kleptomaniac King, and if it somehow knew HIM well enough by reputation to merit his arrival, it meant that Crusher Teefrobba had truly arrived. Other great relics would call and be taken by him as well he mused. Soon, ALL of The Badlands would know and follow his banner, the banner of The Kleptomaniac King. He proceeded deeper and deeper into the keep, and when he neared Grimgor's war tent, he felt the object calling more and more desperately...practically pleading to be released. It took awhile, but Crusher finally found a small window of time with which to enter Grimgor's vault undetected. Crusher chuckled excitedly to himself as he passed a vast trove of weapons, armor pieces, gold and jewels beyond counting, and the collective wealth of The Badlands most infamous warboss. Still, whatever he was searching for wasn't here, but deeper in the encampment. Finally, sitting on a simple mantle of steel Crusher Teefrobba found the object of his affections. It was a two handed bearded war ax, colossal and imbued with subtle outlines of red on an otherwise jet black and imposing weapon. The blade's edge shimmered brightly and conveyed a weapon that hadn't even come close to growing dull. Crusher Teefrobba could barely hold it upright, but in so doing he knew he had been triumphant and with this incredible weapon he would rule ALL of The Badlands soon enough. Crusher doubted he was strong enough o practically wield it in the field, but it would make a great ceremonial item he figured. He excitedly ran for the door he had entered only to find it completely enveloped by a colossal and hulking frame. Probably for the first time in his life, Crusher Teefrobba actually felt fear as the silhouette advanced with a powerful and deliberate gait. The ground shook a little with every step, and a low growling echoed off the walls as this terrible figure seemingly a force of nature moved completely undeterred by Crusher or his latest prize. This figure finally emerged from the shadows and revealed itself to be none other than the warboss of the Greenskin Clan himself, the infamous black orc, Grimgor Ironhide.

Crusher Teefrobba in his initial excitement had forgotten all about what gear his former master had brought into battle, and now in horror realized that he had inadvertently tried to steal Gitsnik. To make matters worse, Crusher Teefrobba now stood face to face with Gitsnik's true owner and stood little chance of prevailing in a hand to hand fight. Still, Grimgor was unarmed and Crusher was now trapped and essentially out of options. The two warbosses battled, but by all accounts the battle proved brief and one sided. Grimgor Ironhide easily overwhelmed Crusher Teefrobba and without Gitsnik in his hand, instead took to beating this adversary to death with nothing but his fists. Crusher Teefrobba's army gathered arms outside the fortress as excited whooping and cheering could be heard all throughout the streets of Black Crag, it's origin or reason for now unknown. WAAAGH!!! Crusher Teefrobba took to cheering and war cries of their own, both confused and interested to why all of Black Crag was suddenly in an uproar of activity. Their curiosity was sated however when Grimgor Ironhide appeared along the walls of Black Crag, Gitsnik in one hand and the lifeless corpse of Crusher Teefrobba being clutched one handed in the other. Grimgor with a groan of disgust threw Crusher Teefrobba's body into the ranks of his own men and absolute panoply ensued. A vast host of Orcs now leaderless and without direction began to argue with one another over who was gonna be the new warboss. Arguments quickly boiled into confrontations, confrontations became outright fighting, and fighting began to disintegrate the mightiest army ever assembled by a greenskin in the Age of Reckoning. Grimgor Ironhide relished the chance to finally engage in open conflict once more, and wasted little time sallying his own troops into the fray, which added even more to the growing confusion of the conflict. Gitsnik was slick with blood once more, and Crsuher Teefrobba's army was reduced to a few desperate bands from what had once been a mighty and incomparable host to anything seen in The Old World. Crusher Teefrobba's legacy was that of a very incompetent general, but a remarkable warrior. His achievements under Grimgor's employ were one narrow victory at Varenka Hills which would later prove tactically irrelevant after Azhag's adefeat at Karaz-a-Karak. As a rogue warboss seeking the ultimate prize, he fared no better and was ultimately destroyed by Grimgor Ironhide himself. While he had come much closer to ultimate power than Ublug ever had, he had also proven to be a much more insignificant general overall.

[Alwyn]

I enjoyed reading about how Crusher Teefrobber got his names, his approach to battle planning, how he got a golden sword and how he faced his ultimate challenge. Great chapter!

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Crusher Teefrobba is a great character! I couldn't help being amused by his "unnatural talent for being in the right place at the right time" - although that does rather seem to have deserted him in the end, doesn't it?

[Owlparrot3]

That WAAGH name is so catchy that i was instantly drawn to the aar .Good writing .It was sad to see Crusher Teefrobba get defeated .Great stuff .

[Mercenary2479]

Volume 3: The Sadist and his Pet
WAAAGH!!! Ratgash and WAAAGH!!! Sly 111 AOR-8 TET (Age of Reckoning and The End Times respectively)
Emil Bickenstadt had tried long and hard to actually track down Crusher Teefrobba, but as fate would have it that particular Orc warboss had proven notoriously hard to find. Crusher's kleptomaniac sprees and fondness for The Underway during the latter half of his military career helped turn nefarious work into an impossible chore, and a seemingly minor warboss become a greenskin legend. Not that Emil was complaining, if Emil couldn't physically find the warboss then he couldn't accomplish his "mission." Finally, Emil witnessed the fierce fighting at Black Crag and the aftermath and let loose a sigh of relief. There was no chance Chaos could twist and manipulate that particular Orc to their purposes any longer. Still Emil didn't outright celebrate yet, for no doubt that white crow was lurking somewhere nearby and would have yet another mission to try and further the objectives of The Chaos Gods. It didn't take long for Emil's fears to be realized as he felt that familiar avian plant his feet on Emil's shoulder. Emil didn't even bother to look at it but merely stretched his hand out and asked "What is it this time?" But no parchment struck his hand, no mission to be carried out. Seconds stretched into minutes and finally Emil was forced to turn and look at the crow. It stared at Emil with a fixed gaze, and it's beak stretched back with what could almost be construed as a smile. There was a clear...sentience behind those eyes far greater than the typical avian, and every time Emil looked upon it, somehow he feared this unusual bird could look into the very essence of his being, gnawing away at the darkest secrets and intentions, invasively staring upon the soul. Emil could not help but to look away from it, and angrily asked "DO YOU HAVE A TASK FOR ME OR NOT?" The little beast gave no answer but instead flew off Emil's shoulder and flew with a deliberate and graceful air towards the north. "North. The direction of home, as well as the direction of The Elder no doubt." Emil thought to himself. Emil pondered for a moment what he would have to do. He would have to travel through Black Fire Pass once more, track down The Elder and kill him, and finally just maybe make it home to The Empire once more. Emil doubted any of his family were still alive, but he had to believe this wasn't all for nothing. He had to believe that even after being deceived, even after inadvertently helping the forces of Chaos itself, that somehow all of this could be made right. The Empire could certainly use the information he had acquired on Greenskins over the years, and maybe he could help orchestrate or contribute to the next great campaign or victory that saved his people, if not his family. Reaffirmed by this mental review, Emil made tracks north, hopeful that his long sad story might finally be coming to an end.

As Emil stalked his way back to Black Fire Pass however, he could not help but feel a familiar attitude growing within The Badlands. Greenskins were notorious throughout The Old World for two things...love of violence and their willingness to fight anything or anyone (especially one another) to satisfy that bloodlust. The few times they weren't busy fighting one another, it generally favored poorly for the entirety of The Old World and Emil was certainly familiar with these trends. As Emil passed Orc patrols and the occasional Greenskin tribe on the march, an air of excitedness and unusual cooperation was being found amongst the warriors of The Badlands. Emil Bickenstadt despaired, for he knew such behavior was indicative of only one thing. Yet another WAAAGH!!! was coming and Emil for the first time in ages felt torn. Yes, Emil wanted desperately to track down The Elder and kill him...but to ignore the value of a good scouting report for The Empire, especially for a WAAGH!!! on the move, seemed selfish on Emil's part. Though he hated the idea of The Elder living for a second longer, Emil reasoned that the threat of WAAAGH!!! was for now more important and marched to the now rather ruined and heavily desolated warzone known as The Blood River Valley. These are the accounts of Ratgash and Sly, two war bosses that would end an era of warfare between Grimgor Ironhide and Throgrim Grudgebearer and herald in a new one as Archaon The Everchosen himself began his invasion of The Old World.

By Emil's account Ratgash was a devious and ambitious night goblin from the moment Emil began to study him, even by the standards of his own kind. He constantly plotted how to garnish ever greater amounts of power, fought duels, assassinated rivals, sowed discontent among the army, and generally did everything in his power to try to rise to the top as quickly as possible. For all of his ambition however, Ratgash was tiny and frail and all of his plots came to naught every time a more powerful Greenskin whether they be Orc or Goblin started to take him seriously. Ratgash would start to garnish power, someone would thwart him, Ratgash's power base would be erased, and the process would start all over again. Most Greenskins caught in such a cycle had a habit of winding up dead after losing their patience and trying something REALLY dumb, but Ratgash for reasons his comrades were unsure of managed to avoid this pitfall. Emil spied upon Ratgash and quickly discovered the truth that was unknown even to most of his kin and allies. Whenever Ratgash was upset or had recently been defeated, he would retreat into The Underway and busy himself there with "therapy." Ratgash would find defenseless animals, prisoners of war, slaves, or even the occasional refugee or pilgrim and begin to torture them. Ratgash was very fascinated by and LOVED the hobbies of taxidermy and autopsy (often on living and unwilling subjects.) He would spend hours moving limbs to unnatural positions, manipulating the brain through chemical coercion or at times literally, and studying at length just how pliable or malleable the various species of The Old World truly were. Emil began to doubt Ratgash was even his real name, and figured his current name was probably given to him long ago as acknowledgement of his sick and twisted "activities" by a previous tribe or clan. Greenskins weren't spared from his odd proclivities either, and countless Orcs and Goblins awaiting surgery or "medical attention" as far as it went in Greenskin culture had a habit of going "missing" and ended up in Ratgash's grip instead.

One day, Emil records that Ratgash was busying himself with the near corpse of a colossal Big Un named Sly. Sly had most of his brain matter and cranium eviscerated by the shell of a Border Prince cannon in previous battle and Sly was totally brain dead. The remarkable healing qualities of the Greenskins had kept Sly from outright death but had failed completely to actually heal or mend most of Sly's brain which was simply missing on a field somewhere now. Ratgash had an unusual idea of what to do with this particular "specimen." Ratgash took to aggressively force feeding Sly massive amounts of the fungal life that is so critical to the internal anatomy of Greenskins from the deceased and still living subjects Ratgash had in store. Simultaneously, Ratgash took a series of scrap metals, weapons, armors, and anything that could generally be smelted down and made a crude "mold" out of this amalgam. He poured the mold directly into Sly's brain, and the results were surprising. The mold had miraculously been given in the proper amount and rather adequately filled the massive space in Sly's head where most of his skull and brain should have been. The fungal life he had force fed Sly helped his body to accept the mold as part of his tissue and free from further trying to heal his "skull." The boost in Sly's metabolism and growth rapidly improved and strengthened everything else in his body. Soon the mold crackled with a green electricity and Sly quickly grew to a towering and impressive size for ANY Orc. Sly rose to his feet and with great effort, stared at Ratgash for what seemed like an eternity, and uttered but a single word "Father." Ratgash was reportedly dumbfounded. All this had mostly been done to distract himself from yet another frustrating day, there had been countless experiments, but this was the first time one had actually WORKED in any meaningful way.

Ratgash wasted little time showing off "his greatest work" to the rest of the soldiers currently residing in Azhag's camp above ground. Most were just amused by this bizarre recreation of a former Orc soldier, Azhag The Slaughterer included. A few however saw Sly...and Ratgash by extension as
a threat. Ratgash had always been tolerated to this point because for all his ambition his physical frailty and weakness had prevented him from capitalizing on it in any meaningful way. In the eyes of some of the Big Un's Sly had changed that, and Ratgash was suddenly thrust into a position where we was going to achieve power very quickly, or more likely die in the attempt. A particularly imposing Big Un named Renda (and the current candidate to lead the WAAAGH!!! no less) challenged Ratgash to a fight to the death right then and there. Ratgash had fought and taken part in several duels, but had lost nearly all of them. Now faced with the prospect of the one duel he REALLY couldn't afford to shy away from, Ratagsh's mind began to race as to how he was possibly going to survive this. Ratgash quickly came up with an idea and responded to Renda "I ACCEPT YOUR CHALLENGE!!! AND NAME SLY AS MY CHAMPION AND THE ONE WHO WILL FACE YOU IN MY STEAD!!!" Cheers and whoops could be heard from the Greenskin mob, truthfully this had made the duel a much more interesting affair. Renda simply figured killing Ratgash would come after Sly was defeated. The duel began with Renda and Sly placed in the fighting pits and both properly armed to the teeth. Even Azhag The Slaughterer took part in watching the festivities and watched as the battle was about to unfold with some interest. Something in his head whispered that Sly was worthy of further study and that something was special about him. Renda bellowed out a mighty roar and properly whipped the surrounding mob into a frenzy, eager for the prospect of seeing blood. Sly just stared dumbly at the sword in his hand, apparently perplexed by it and unsure of it's function. The duel began and Renda began to charge his opponent furiously howling curses and insults at his quarry as he closed the gap. Sly simply continued to study his sword clearly not comprehending the scope of what was happening. At last, Renda engaged and plunged his sword deep into the stomach of Sly, running him through and having his blade enter one side of Sly and violently jet out of the other. Sly staggered backward and fell with a grunt of pain, listlessly dropping his sword and falling onto his back. The crowd went wild and the ground began to shake at the latest kill. A rather boring duel, but the prospect of blood and gore mad even the most droll of duels somewhat rewarding. Renda began to look upon Ratgash menacingly and continued to whip up the crowd, at this point demanding that Ratgash accept his fate and try to fight him as well. As this occuring, something incredible took place, and would stun all witnesses involved. A howling roar of anger and pain rose up so deafening even the crowd went silent. With sword in his gut and jutting out of his back, Sly managed to rise out of his feet. Renda just stared in disbelief, until Sly quickly charged and proceeded to pummel Renda with nothing but his fists. Renda tried to pull out side arms such as knives and other auxiliary weapons to stab and slow Sly down. None of it seemed to matter, as Sly furiously pounded in the skull of Renda and only did so faster and with even more hatred when yet more weapons hit home and dug into Sly's flesh. Renda began to stagger, and Sly unceremoniously and with clear malice beat him to death and reduced his entire skull to a muddy mess of mud, gore, and shattered helmet pieces slipping through the fingers of Sly. Despite being run through with a sword and having several daggers stick out of him, Sly had emerged the victor. Ratgash rushed in to help his creation, feeling a fondness for this thing that had done more than just fascinate him, it had actually saved his life. Sly let out whimpers of pain and dumbly clawed at the sword in his gut, trying in vain to pull it out himself. Ratgash managed to as gently as one can do such a thing helped Sly remove the sword from his body as well as the accompanying daggers. Ratgash offered words of encouragement the whole time, and applied basic sutures and tonics made from plants to dull the pain. Ratgash's years of "hobbies" suddenly proved useful for the first time. The process of patching up Sly took hours, but NO ONE was going to just up and leave an event that Azhag himself was attending. Finally when Ratgash was done, Sly confidently and with force rose to his feet once more and smiled at Ratgash, clearly pleased. Ratgash smiled back and an undeniable friendship was made that day that would change The Old World forever. The crowd began to murmur and grumble and despite Renda being clearly defeated and quite dead, a new problem began to emerge.

Azhag The Slaughterer watched as the crowd began to disintegrate and fierce infighting began to infect the now monstrous camp. It was clear that Ratgash and Sly were both unique and powerful, but WHO among them was going to lead The WAAAGH!!!? Sure Ratgash was smart, but he couldn't win a fight on his own to save his life. Sure Sly was a monstrous and powerful warrior, but he was far too stupid to ever effectively lead and manage the complex organism of war that is a WAAAGH!!! Right before the fighting got bad, Azhag smiled and cried out with a mighty voice "LISTEN UP BOYZ!!! I know what ye thinkin. which on a dez poncy weirdboyz is gonna be leadin da WAAGH!!!? Well dat's easy. Both of em. Now ear me out. Dat Ratgash is a right proper git, always skulkin about, and messin with fings he don't understand. But he made dat huge boy over dere an knew how ta patch him up. Dat's worth somethin. Dat's da look of a git touched by Mork. An Sly...well he may be stoopider dan a Grot, but by Gork he knows wut it takes ta git stuck in and come out da winna. Dat's a boy made by Gork right dere. I GIVE YOU YOUR WARBOSSES!!!" Thundering roars of approval rang out as an unprecedented and very exciting event took place. Two warbosses had never been simultaneously appointed to lead a WAAAGH!!!, much less apparently been scions for the Greenskin gods of Gork and Mork. But nonetheless that's how WAAAGH!!! Ratgash would start, and Azhag The Slaughterer now had his appointed secondary commanders and was ready to take the fight to Thorgrim Grudgbearer once more.

The Blood River Valley was now largely a disparate wasteland as it consistently traded hands between The Dwarves and Greenskins. In the ruins of this region Azhag The Slaughterer had been making improvements within his encampment to his own army. Grimgor Ironhide had "perfected" training facilities back in Black Crag and the regular recruiting, training, and integrating of entire Black Orc units into the field was now a terrifying reality to be wielded by Greenskin commanders. Azhag The Slaughterer wasted little time seizing this opportunity and eager to avenge his losses to Thorgrim Grudgebearer pressed once again for the Dwarven capital of Karaz-a-Karak. Unlike the last time Azhag The Slaughterer had engaged Thorgrim Grudgebearer, he had a fresh WAAAGH!!! at his back to bolster his numbers and Thorgrim had been caught within he walls of the settlement rather than in the open field. Ratgash and his army stood watch behind and waited to see what Azhag The Slaughterer's next move was going to be. Even Azhag The Slaughterer had to concede upon his arrival however that the defenses of Karaz-a-Karak were VERY formidable and any direct assault on the place even with his improved forces would be more of a suicide run than a pitched battle. Azhag The Slaughterer didn't seem deterred, and proposed a siege instead. It didn't take long for Azhag's advisers to realize that the prospect of starving out Thorgrim and his army was likely going to take decades, not mere years, and the prospect of an army being forced to commit to just one settlement for such a long time was going to leave the Greenskin Clan as a whole worrying vulnerable to counterattacks throughout Grimgor's lands. Azhag The Slaughterer ignored such pleas from his advisers and stated simply that if the Dwarven capital were to fall, it would legitimately end the war and allow The Greenskins to defeat their most hated foe once and for all. Meanwhile, Ratgash busied himself with restructuring the internal hierarchy of his army and ensuring his fellow members of leadership and soldiers alike no longer endured the confusion that had plagued his initial ascension. Sly was indeed acknowledged and treated as an equal, given command authority as well as the best weapons and gear the camp could muster. This infuriated a great contingent of the Orcs, but Ratgash had the foresight to use Sly's new appointment to leadership as an opportunity. He knew that Sly was unwaveringly loyal to him, but also was well aware that Sly simply didn't possess the mental aptitude necessary to give orders and directives that would be beneficial to the WAAAGH!!! as a whole. To counteract this, Ratgash gathered the WAAAGH!!! and singled out most of the remarkable chieftains and warriors that would inevitably be challenges to his leadership if left to their own devices. Most of this host gathered and expected this would just be Ratgash trying to infuriate and insult his rivals as he cemented his place. What happened instead was very surprising and would satiate the rivals to Ratgash and Sly's upstart rule. Ratgash instead started the meeting with calm and respectful acknowledgement of the fact that too little was known about Sly to remove him, but to actually entrust him to lead in the conventional sense would be unrealistic. Instead, Ratgash proposed that the various chieftains, shamans, and most capable Big Uns would serve alongside Sly as "bodyguards," but in reality they would impart advice and insights directly to Ratgash while tending to the needs of Sly and essentially leading in his stead, even if it be behind the scenes. Sly's new "entourage" found these terms to be very agreeable. After all, it seemed to serve almost all of the army's immediate issues. Thanks to Sly, it was made clear Ratgash would need no other bodyguards, Sly would need capable advisers to help him with his allotted task and his new "entourage" would see to effective orders and directives being carried out for him, and most of Ratgash's potential rivals no longer had reason to be resentful as Sly's bevy of advisers gave a unique and secondary chance to coopt and lead the WAAAGH!!! from an unprecedented and unique platform. Ratagsh's hierarchy was now complete, and he could focus entirely on the annihilation of Thorgrim Grudgebearer's army alongside Azhag The Slaughterer in one of the most involved and lengthy siege campaigns ever undertaken by the Greenskins.

For a warboss, Ratgash busied himself a great deal with "un Orcy" tactics and pastimes which perhaps should have been expected given his erratic and abnormal rise to power and prior history. He spent most of his free time studying maps, simulating and planning for pitched battles with set pieces on tables, and even taking time to read about campaigns and battles of generals even including ones that weren't Greenskins! He was no warrior, he didn't involve himself much with his camp, but the greater picture and the impact of the WAAAGH!!! for the Greenskin Clan as a whole was always something on the forefront of Ratgash's thoughts. Although it did generate murmurings amongst the army, it wasn't deemed unforgivable. Azhag himself was pretty unusual as well, and Sly's "bodyguard" saw to it that proper respect for "da Orcy" ways was given and things rarely got out of hand in the encampment. Azhag's advisers hadn't been wrong about their predictions. While the siege of Karaz-a-Karak was going pretty well, it couldn't be denied that it was taking an inordinately long time and already threats were emerging that were going to demand the attention of The Greenskins elsewhere. Ungrim Ironfist led a small expeditionary force to the east of Karaz-a-Karak while not a threat in it's own right combined with Thorgrim might become a force capable enough to sally forth and drive The Greenskins back to The Blood River Valley as Thorgrim Grudgebearrer had done to Azhag years ago. In the south, The Bloody Handz had dragged Grimgor Ironhide and The Greenskins into war with the remaining Dwarves in the south against Karak Azul. Grimgor Ironhide himself addressed these threats by ensuring a constant attitude of business and productivity back on the home front, and for the first time in Greenskins history it generated noteworthy results. A second army was fielded back at Black Crag, and there was actually enough teef and "economic growth" flowing through The Greenskin lands that this force quickly grew comparable to Azhag's and could be reasonably sustained for the foreseeable future. It was led by an at the time rather unremarkable night goblin named Gitspla Da Bashful, but since he had been personally appointed by Grimgor himself, no one was going to dare question it. Ratgash kept busy with his studies and concluded that if Ungrim Ironfist was denied the chance to rejoin with Thorgrim Grudgebearer, Azhag's plan would theoretically prove viable given enough time. Ratgash always worked to ensure his army was close to Azhag's to contribute to battle if Thorgrim attempted to sally forth, but also far enough east to serve as a physical buffer between Ungrim and Karaz-a-Karak. The gambit worked to perfection for years, and Ungrim was essentially cut off from the capital thanks to Ratgash's movements and intercepting maneuvers. As the siege for The Dwarven capital dragged on, Ratgash was faced with a unique new challenge, one that had never been before faced in the history of The Greenskin Clan.

As Ratgash continued to busy himself with movements to impede Ungrim Ironfist as well as studying tactics and maneuvers possible for Azhag's campaign overall, surprising news came from the far southern reaches of The Badlands. Gitspla Da Bashful, Grimgor's appointee for the second army far in the south had done very well for itself in battle against Karak Azul. Almost too well in fact. Gitspla Da bashful had conquered huge swathes of territory while working in tandem with The Bloody Handz and the two factions were essentially dividing what was left of The Southern Badlands for themselves. Gitspla Da Bashful had done so well in fact that word of his conquests and fighting had spread far and wide and yet another WAAAGH!!! had risen up as throngs of Greenskins flocked to his banner to fight. A leader would be needed to muster and guide this second unruly wave now unleashed on the world, and Ratgash was appointed to decide ultimately who it would be. Ratgash hated the idea as he had grown very fond of his creation, but Sly and his "bodyguard" were the obvious choice. Ratgash almost cried as he watched Sly being dragged away and unwillingly forced to march south away from Karaz-a-Karak and his beloved "father," but this had to be done Ratgash reasoned. The well being and prosperity of ALL Greenskins hung in the balance of the next few campaigns, and he had no doubt his protégé would make him proud in the south. He did not emerge from his tent for at least a week after Sly was taken away, and when he did emerge again he took to his studies and strategies with what seemed to be desperation as much as legitimate interest. He was not only trying to fulfill his work, but to forget his sorrow.

In the south, Sly suddenly seemed more active and noticeably more angry. Abandoned by his once beloved "father," this was not an insult Sly took kindly to and he made no distinction what he was killing when familiar feelings of his father having him dragged away forced themselves back into Sly's primitive mind. Even Gitspla Da Bashful took great strides to keep away from Sly but kept close ties with his "bodyguard" to coordinate his now massively extended force. Fortunately for Gitspla and his host, they eventually managed to productively channel Sly's anger and generally kept him pointed towards the stunties and away from his comrades most of the time, and the results were as horrific as they were oddly...inspiring. With Sly easily annihilating even the mightiest Dwarven champions and formations Karak Azul could throw at him, and Gitspla efficiently handling the more minute details of army management the war against Karak Azul continued to go decisively well and victory after victory piled up. A decisively one sided conflict devolved into massacre and suddenly Karak Azul and her once proud inhabitants were wiped from the map. Gitspla Da Bashful as well as The Bloody Handz stood united in celebration, for The Badlands were now firmly in their control and with the exception of Thorgrim himself back up north Dwarves had been eradicated from The Badlands entirely. The only one not celebrating was Sly, who was quickly growing obsessed with the idea of regaining his father's favor...or killing him in the attempt. Gitspla Da Bashful and his host marched north to aid Azhag The Slaughterer. After all, there was nothing left to contest them in The Badlands.

Meanwhile at Karaz-a-Karak, the order finally came. Thogrim Grudgebearer and what was left of his army fought desperately and with all the zeal expected of such a storied warrior. Realistically though, his armies stood little chance and even they could not muscle through the horrors of the perfidious disease of starvation that had already claimed so many and weakened the few that remained. Azhag The Slaughterer and Ratgash together grinned with triumph as the Dwarven capital eventually fell and the banner of Grimgor Ironhide defiantly flew over the ancestral home of The Dwarves. Much like Gitspla's army now marching north, suddenly Azhag The Slaughterer was free to move and efficiently massacred his way through the remainder of The Silver Road. The Dwarves still had settlements to the north however, and Azhag wasted little time marching towards them as well. This is where his army fell upon Mount Gunbad, a formidable settlement with defenses comparable to the former Dwarven capital. It also served as the linking point between The Badlands and The Silverpeaks and if Azhag expected to move any further north he would inevitably have to take this settlement. What he encountered when he approached however was a situation that was nothing short of bizarre, and even gave Azhag The Slaughterer himself pause.

What Azhag had encountered was a three faction war for the settlement already taking place, and none of it had anything to do with Greenskins. Vlad von Carstein laid siege to the settlement, apparently convinced annihilating the Dwarves and securing his western flank was also a good idea. Apparently such a good idea that it even trumped killing the humans of The Empire for now. Vlad brought vampiric corruption to The Silverpeaks with him, and it had resulted in a vampiric rebellion and rapidly growing army determined to level Mount Gunbad as well. To see a second vampiric host was unnerving, but it apparently did not serve Vlad or Mannfred, instead, it was led by a minor necromancer determined to level the city for reasons unclear. Mount Gunbad had become the new capital of The Dwarves however, and despite the plague of the vampires now afflicting their lands in multiple ways, the garrison within dug in hard and prepared to fight bitterly tooth and nail to defend what would be their new home until Karaz-a-Karak was retaken. Uncertain if his own forces could realistically take such odds, Azhag The Slaughterer contented himself with building a raiding camp and generally making an already bitter and confusing situation for Mount Gunbad even more so. Now afflicted by Vlad von Carstein, vampiric rebels, AND Azhag The Slaughterer life in and especially in the countryside of Mount Gunbad became a horrifying and daunting affair to survive. Ratgash himself was not content to wait for this conflict to play out like his master but instead studied even more so, determined to find a way to break this bizarre stalemate. No matter how long he studied and reviewed the intelligence reports, the fighting was going nowhere fast and there didn't to be an obvious or easy target to exploit in this situation. It wasn't ideal, but Ratgash concluded he would have to lead his own host and essentially clear the way for Azhag. The vampiric rebels seemed the slightly less daunting choice, their leader would no doubt be less powerful than Vlad and there would be no unintentional diplomatic consequences for defeating a force of anarchists. Without orders, Ratgash surged ahead of Azhag The Slaughterer and forced battle against the vampiric rebels. What followed was one of the most famous conflicts in the history of The Greenskins. The battle would not prove a display of great skill of strategy, but instead would be ballad of savagery and proper fighting revered by The Greenskins for all time. Both forces had the same idea, press hard in the center and overwhelm the opponent using the weight of numbers at their disposal. This quickly resulted in rather unceremonious masses of infantry crashing into one another and a lengthy battle of attrition followed. Both Ratgash and the necromancer that opposed him did well to maintain the morale of their armies, and kept close to the fighting if not directly involved. The longer the fighting went, the more unclear the outcome became. No matter what Ratgash tried as far as flanking maneuvers, committing reserves, shifting ranged fire, or generally any tactic he employed after the first furious melee was perfectly matched by the necromancer. Reatgash began to panic but the fear of being out thought when he saw his opponent in person vanished, He clearly saw the same panic and growing frustration in the necromancer. Ratgash hadn't been outclassed, he literally was trading blows with an equal who fought and strategized in more or less the exact same way. The fight dragged on for hours, and no matter what move was made whether by intention or mistake it was matched by the opponent over and over again. The soldiers of the two armies felt no fear, for they had no reason to and they both had supreme confidence in their leaders and so long as victory was possible the prospect of fleeing seemed silly and the bloodletting continued. Finally Ratgash and the necromancer met on the personal field of battle, their once vast armies now whittled to pitiful bands of a few dozen fighters each. At long last Ratgash struck a deathblow as he slit the throat of the pale husk of a man and watched with a twisted grin as he choked on his own blood and fell lifeless to the earth. His elation left him as he felt a sharp pain rise in his stomach. He looked down to see a dagger firmly placed in his gut, and Ratgash clawed at it with horror in the realization that at long last he had met his end. He fell over lifeless with a look of fear and confusion on his face but his warriors fought on even as he fell to the dust. The undead won a narrow victory with a few thralls killing the last of the Greenskins, but without the energy of the necromancer to power them, they merely wandered aimlessly in place for a few minutes before crumbling into dust. Not a soul had entered that terrible skirmish and actually lived and two great armies were no more by the following day. While it's doubtful Ratgash intended to sacrifice himself to do so, his overarching plan for the campaign did work. Vlad von Carstein would panic after the battle and rushed his siege plans, which led to it's failure and his eventual expulsion from The Silverpeaks. Azhag The Slaughterer now only had the weakened garrison to contend with, and conquered it in a relatively straightforward siege. He would use Mount Gunbad as a spring board for his invasion into the rest of The Silverpeaks, which would continue uninterrupted until the arrival of Archaon The Everchosen himself.

While WAAAGH!!! Ratgash had met a glorious if rather bizarre end, WAAAGH!!! Sly was far from over. Sly wept bitterly to hear of the death of his "father." Any feelings of hatred he once felt for his past expulsion had vanished, and now all he felt was an undying enmity for anything that wasn't a Greenskin. The first stage of his grieving was regarded as nothing short of incredible by his peers. Sly ventured north into the mountain ranges for reasons unexplained and did so without telling anyone. Sly stumbled upon a fully grown Wyvern and too angry and despondent to fear it killed it in single combat. To make the feat even more impressive and utterly beyond dispute, Sly dragged it's corpse all the way down the mountain and brought it before the WAAAGH!!! as an item to be feasted upon. His "entourage" refused to waste the power of such a legendary creature and hastily made a magical totem from the bones of the Wyvern while the camp took to messily devouring it. The totem was presented to Sly as a gift who stared at it with unusual solemnness and crudely carved "In honor of father." along the side. This somber attitude and behavior quickly infected the camp, and the meal was used as a chance to commemorate the incredible feats of WAAAGH!!! Ratgash especially including it's legendary demise and firm vows to repeat the same with WAAAGH!!! Sly were eagerly echoed throughout the army. For the first time in it's history WAAAGH!!! Sly was at the center of attention and pretty lofty expectations were put on the army from that day forward. This would prove to be the one challenge WAAAGH!!! Sly was not prepared for.

WAAAGH!!! Sly would march to the northwest taking the opposite route now being taken by Azhag and his army in The Silverpeaks. Instead, WAAAGH!!! Sly marched through the ruins of what were once the cities of The Border Princes and promptly waged war on Clan Angrund who happened to occupy some of the southern reaches and Dwarven holds near The Badlands. The battles and sieges proved one sided as expected, and Belegar Ironhammer was forced into a last stand at Karak Angazbar. An actual siege did not even prove necessary, and Gitspla Da Bashful watched with glee as Sly and his host simply swarmed through the Karak and laid the last bastion of the exiled King Belegar to utter ruin. Clan Angrund was no more. However, back home Grimgor had bullied and harassed some of the brighter minds in Black Crag with further innovations for his armies, and monstrous giants began to call the massive expanses of Black Crag home with suitable fighting pits and troves of food to match. Even the forest goblins were starting to take notice of Grimgor's success and were offering him the know how and experience necessary to field the mighty and terrible Arachnarok Spiders. Soon they also flowed into Grimgor's fortress as tribute and Gitspla couldn't resist the opportunity to pitch camp and acquire such incredible beasts to field in his armies. The move proved to be costly in a major way. As Gitspla's army sat tight, Sly's rapidly fell apart due to boredom and the overwhelming sense that they should be doing everything in their power to match the glorious end that WAAAGH!!! Ratgash had achieved. Fresh off their conquest of Karak Angazbar, WAAAGH!!! Sly screeched to an unceremonious halt as a bout of infighting broke out into all out civil war. Sly's retinue compounded and made the problem worse and many took THIS of all times as the chance to try and kill Sly and acquire power for themselves. Ratgash's intricate system of leadership he had emplaced years ago had died with him, and Sly simply joined in the wild fray as one "bodyguard" after one another tried to kill Sly and garnish power, only to be decisively defeated by the terrible blows of Sly himself. WAAAGH!!! Sly met an abrupt end, but oddly, Sly himself was not found amongst the dead. For all intents and purposes according to the lore of Greenskins, Sly's story ends there and is not worthy of further discussion. All that is known as far as The Greenskins are concerned is that it would be the very last time Sly led any armies, and that was all that needed to be recorded.

However, Emil's account made it clear that Sly DID leave the melee as the sole survivor, and his tale did not end there...

Volume 4: Scion of The Greenskins
WAAAGH!!! Gnasha 12 TET-145 AOP (The End Times and The Age of Peace respectively)

[Alwyn]

A very enjoyable update! I particularly enjoyed the encounter between Emil and the crow, the way that Ratgash used his intelligence to carry out a successful experiment on Sly and the battle between the forces of Ratgash and the necromancer. Sly's development is interesting, I wonder where his tale will go next.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Ratgash has some unpleasant habits, doesn't he? He does seem to make them useful, though, I admit. The story of Ratgash and Sly is well-told and entertaining. Like Alwyn, I look forward to hearing the rest of Sly's adventures.

[Mercenary2479]

Volume 4: Scion of The Greenskins
While the rest of Greenskin culture had largely forgotten about Sly, Emil von Bickenstadt had not, and pursued him after the battle as he aimlessly wandered further and further into the now conquered underway running underneath Karak Angazbar. The roaring, shouts, and cheers of the recent conquest could still be overheard ahead as Gitspla Da Bashful and his remaining horde cheered wildly for the now permanent annihilation of Clan Angrund was complete. While it saddened Emil to remember that these very halls had once been his home when Belegar Ironhammer took him in, he could not waver or lose focus now. For to allow Sly to ever return to the surface world and reunite with The Greenskins would surely spell yet another WAAAGH!!! in his name, and that could not be tolerated. Emil had another problem to contend with as well. Killing Sly was the obvious objective, but Emil had no idea HOW he was going to accomplish this. He had watched Sly simply shrug off countless blows that should have killed him, and instead slaughter the very assailants who afflicted such wounds. Emil simply kept tabs on Sly for now, while his mind continued to work furiously looking for a solution. Fortunately Sly was wandering deeper and deeper into The Underway, which would make anyone else finding him very unlikely. For now at least, it seemed like Emil had the benefit of time.

As Emil von Bickenstadt continued to stalk Sly deeper and deeper underground, an unusual development took place. Emil noticed out of the corner of his eye a hooded figure apparently also very interested in Sly and stalking him in a similar manner. This figure also apparently hadn't noticed Emil doing the same thing. As if his task wasn't already confusing enough, Emil would now have to evade this individual and try to discern who THIS was as well. "Too tall to be Dawi, too subtle to be a Greenskin, unlikely to be a Human this far from The Empire...Vampire perhaps?" As Emil pondered these things, a familiar avian presence filled him with dread and neatly perched it's talons on the shoulder of this figure. It's jet white feathers, unusual sentience, and sea blue eyes made it clear WHO it's master was, and memories began flooding into the consciousness of Emil. His fateful meeting of The Elder at that inn, that damnable blue liquid, pursuing his brother only to find him dead at the hands of Skarsnik, the countless WAAAGHS!!! he had reported and borne witness to, and now this. At long last The Elder was within striking distance and Emil's revenge slowly began to look like it could very well become a reality. An odd sort of chain developed over the next few hours as The Elder tracked Sly as he wandered, and Emil von Bickenstadt in turn stalked The Elder. Emil slowly inched closer, eager to right a wrong that had put him on this damnable odyssey in the first place...

Emil's heart began to pound in his chest, his hands grew sweaty, and his mind raced with anticipation. The stroke of luck he had been blessed with was certainly surprising from his perspective, as good news or tidings had evaded him for a very long time. He cat walked from cover to cover, and slowly closed the gap to his quarry. Merely a dozen feet or so from The Elder now, Emil felt the ice cold grip of fear once more as the white crow looked directly at him, only for half a second before Emil ducked behind cover again. Emil cursed in frustration quite convinced that was all it was going to take. That damn bird seemed to always KNOW everything about what was going on around it. Emil's breath quickened, he readied his axe, and prepared to charge, he felt doubtful about his chances of success, but it didn't matter now. The Elder would soon be upon him thanks to that contemptible bird and Sly would no doubt be quite the wildcard once those two were already engaged. Right before he let out a war cry and charged, Emil was flat out dumbfounded when the bird flew and perched next to him stating simply "No need for that. I didn't tell him anything. I want him dead as much as you do. Just...wait for now, soon an opportunity to kill them both will emerge." Emil just stared at the thing transfixed for awhile. This was certainly not what he had figured the white crow would do, and apparently now Emil had become party to it's plot to murder it's own master. Emil took a second to confirm he wasn't dreaming, and pressed on, now more confident than ever that THIS was the chance to remove The Elder from this world however bizarre it might be. The possibilities of what he could do afterwards were tantalizing and ran through Emil's consciousness. The chance to hunt and kill Skarsnik anew and maybe even survive long enough to finally make it home...

Hours passed on but eventually Sly stumbled onto a stream deep within The Underway and paused briefly to drink from it before he continued on his way. This is when The Elder chose to strike and The Old World would close a chapter on The Age of Reckoning, and The End Times would truly begin. Sly suddenly found himself locked in place by a strange aura, and chanting and incantations could be heard from behind him as The Elder revealed himself wearing a hooded cowl and a cruel smile. The incantations stopped and Sly found himself helpless and suspended above the very waters he had been harmlessly drinking from earlier. Sly howled and grunted, straining against The Elder's magic without ceasing but it was clear that with arcane magic The Elder had just cheated his way to a victory. The Elder simply laughed as this beast continued to struggle. "No need to resist me creature, I merely offer a drink to quench your thirst." The Elder held out yet another bottle of Contractor's Boon mockingly before Sly. "THIS will see to it that you never thirst or hunger again, and you will be my thrall so that with the power of your kin, we will dominate the entirety of The Old World. Your race is fascinating to be sure, but it needs guidance. Guidance that I will offer on the way to burning The Old World and becoming The new Everchosen. None will be able to stand in my way." Emil looked on with horror at this scene, and the white crow perched on his shoulder whispering with a hint of malice: "Now's your chance." As The Elder prepared his dark ritual, his cruel and confident eyes turned to shock and pain as the dull thud of an ax struck home and echoed in the chambers of The Underway. Sly ceased to struggle and a cruel grin of his own was likely one of the last things The Elder saw while living. The Elder fell over, very much alive but with a hand ax firmly pressed into his spine. Emil towered over his former ally who now lay prostrate and paralyzed on the floor and asked simply: "Any last words? Our journeys end here false teacher. Your plans will die with you just as any hope of vengeance or redemption will die with me. We have wasted the entirety of our lives chasing false dreams and entertaining Chaos, and now we reap the reward." The Elder said nothing but took to straining towards the vial he had dropped on the cavern floor, as if the very possibility of defeat was something his mind could not fathom even in this lowly state. Emil waited for a time and when no reply came, lifted The Elder by the handle of the ax and pulled the ax out accompanied by a sickening squelching noise as blade released the tendons of flesh it had dug itself into. The Elder gracelessly flopped back onto the floor and not long after the death blow came to end him forever. The ax came down once more, and firmly struck home as it claimed life hungrily spurned on by years of rage and training. The ax now awkwardly protruded out from The Elder's skull...and the deed was done. Sly still stood there trapped by The Elder's hex, and now Emil had his chance to end that towering beast as well. As we was pulling the ax out of The Elder's skull, something unexpected took place, and this macabre scene was graced by yet another party interested in the proceedings.

The white crow flew into view of the two who remained in that place, and shortly thereafter exploded into a loud and terrifying vortex projecting blue eldritch light and fierce winds. Emil could do nothing more than try to stand his ground and cover his eyes as the winds and blinding power flowed through the cavern. Sly flailed furiously with all the power expected of such a remarkable beast, but the magic of the now deceased Elder could still not be undone. Eventually the ground reverberated with a thud and where once there was but light and wind, now a monstrous creature stood, towering over each of the denizens currently occupying that lowly and strange section of The Underway. It easily stood over twenty feet tall, and still retained those jet white feathers Emil had come to know it's former form by. It now more resembled a vulture than a mere crow with a lengthy neck, long talons along both it's hands and feet, an extended and more powerful beak, and an ornate golden crown complete with jewels sitting atop it's head. Some things hadn't changed however, it's eyes were essentially unchanged and gleamed the same light sea blue they always had and were brimming with intellect and malice. It's impossibly tall frame was perhaps the most disturbing addition as it's torso, stomach, and generally it's entire midsection were painted with dull purple hues and bore a shape that was disturbingly...human. This was perhaps the greatest contrast compared to the rest of it's distinctly avian features. It wasted no time introducing itself with an echoing screech that filled the cavern and forced Emil to cover his ears and fall to the floor. The beast raised it's foot over Sly, bringing it down with such intense force that Emil was launched back several feet and only recovered to see bloody bits of viscera and gore now all that remained of Sly etched all over the cavern and messily painted over the monstrosity's foot. It wasted little time grooming itself furiously concerning the foot that had dealt the deathblow, visually irritated and disgusted that such a thing would taint his form and touch his body. When he had finished "cleaning" himself it's attention shifted to Emil...or rather it tried to and found that in the short span of time it had taken to vanquish Sly, Emil had vanished. The creature looked around half heartedly, and shortly thereafter lost interest as if Emil was an afterthought before it's grand plan. It then stared down at The Elder's lifeless corpse for some time with a smirk stretching along it's beak, before grabbing the corpse and stretching it's hand where it had first emerged. The vortex opened once again and that towering force of Chaos leapt into the portal leaving only Sly's blood smear etched into the floor and walls and Emil somewhere still in that cave.

This was around the time that Archaon The Everchosen begun his invasion of The Old World proper, and Emil von Bickenstadt himself fades out of the histories for a time. After Sly's death, there is a noticeable gap in Emil's writing where nothing is actually recorded by his hand. What we DO know about Emil's actions during The End Times are actually recorded by other historians and scribes of various races that while of lesser quality help provide us a rough idea of Emil's comings and goings and give us an idea of his activities during that timeframe. Most historians and writers can agree that a young man in his twenties simply named "Emil" made tracks into The Empire and demanded to see Emperor Karl Franz with information concerning military activity and detailed accounts of The Badlands. The request was at first fiercely rejected by local military forces and a background check and arrest was conducted for the boy. While he fiercely resisted giving it Emil was eventually coerced into revealing his full name, Emil von Bickenstadt. The von Bickenstadts were found in Imperial records, but the last living member of that family had died out well over fifty years ago. Largely assumed to be a peasant trying to sully the good name of a now dead house, Emil was thrown into Imperial prison and it was presumed by some that he even might be an assassin sent to kill Emperor Karl Franz. His volumes were confiscated and reviewed by scholars, scouts, librarians, scribes, and the leading authors of the time. While they had expected to find conspiratorial or heretical messages in his books, instead they found exactly what Emil had promised would be within the pages. His work was applauded and promptly brought before The Emperor. While The Emperor was grateful to have such detailed and useful information concerning one of his future enemies, he had foes closer afield to contend with, notably Archaon's invasion. Karl Franz called for his closest allies to help discern the boys nature, and both came to different conclusions about the boy's origins and intentions. Balthasar Gelt had to admit he was OVERWHELMINGLY fascinated and intrigued by the chemical known as Contractor's Boon that had been found on the boy, and craved the chance to study it further. However he also had to concede that the chemical's magic seemed arcane in origin, and there was likely much more to the boy than it seemed. Balthasar Gelt felt Emil was probably the result of a partial Chaos mutation or maybe had a Norscan origin. Gelt added that since Emil had been honest about the content of his work, it seemed unlikely that he was a willing or overt servant of Chaos. Thanks to his useful volumes he recommended that the boy be treated well while in prison, but until more could be gleaned that was likely the best place to keep him. Arch Lector Volkmar The Grim had an altogether different opinion of the lad, and after an intense studying and series of tests conducted on the boy reported to The Emperor that "The heresy and infection that is Chaos hadn't outright consumed him, but it had left it's mark on him indisputably." Furthermore, Volkmar The Grim recommended the boy's execution and ritualistic burning in fire. This was the only way to be sure he wouldn't spread the heresies and taint of Chaos he was obviously bound to and that would inevitably consume him given enough time. The Emperor pondered the choices before him, but eventually sided with Balthasar Gelt's proposal. Another WAAAGH!!! would arise in The Silverpeaks, and this was the first one that would not be recorded by Emil himself and from a firsthand perspective. Instead, Emil busied himself making allies of the various scholars, authors, and scouts that had first seen his work and he requested that they bring their reports to him as they finished their own reports on The WAAAGH!!! They agreed, and Emil essentially busied himself with gatherings the recordings and findings of other writers and making a sort of "patchwork volume" of his own concerning the subject. While Emil busied himself within the confines of an Imperial cell, WAAAGH!!! Gnasha over time would become noted as one of the most successful military careers in history and would be recorded by many authors rather than just one.

Gnasha's history was recorded by various sources the bulk of them being comprised of captured Greenskin scrawlings, Human intelligence reports, and the occasional Dawi journal or etching. The Greenskin accounts are as one would imagine wildly preferential and paint Gnasha in such a light of reverence and respect that almost their entire accounts concerning him have to be considered absurd and untrue. The Human intelligence reports seemed noticeably more accurate, but unlike Emil's work would rarely delve into personal motivations, personal life, or anything related to their subject that didn't directly reflect military movement or action. In a word, Human accounts of Gnasha tended to be accurate but overwhelmingly dry and served a very specific purpose. Finally Dawi accounts of Gnasha are overwhelmingly (and rather unsurprisingly) lined with the sort of contempt and hatred one would expect from a Dawi concerning a Greenskin. Despite being lined with several lines, volumes, and occasionally even whole sagas entirely concerned with insulting Gnasha Dawi accounts also did a much better job of providing the sort of miscellaneous information Emil's former works were known for.

Gnasha's early life is largely a source of speculation than anything else, as the only real accounts of it come from The Greenskins themselves. Human scouts at the time weren't concerned with Gnasha as he wasn't yet a "legitimate" threat and Dawi accounts of him suffer from the same pitfall. Regardless of their suspect accuracy, the early story of Gnasha goes something like this as told by The Greenskins themselves. As The Greenskins continued waging war with The Dwarves in The Silverpeaks as well as preparing for war against the forces of Chaos, Azhag The Slaughterer managed to gather another war host under his banner and it seemed clear another leader would be needed to productively manage it. A clear leader emerged however with the arrival of Gnasha. Upon his birth, Gnasha showed a talent and taste for violence that even exceeded Greenskin expectations and promptly started slaughtering everyone within the camp despite having been "birthed" mere minutes before. With no weapons, armor, or any sort of extended training Gnasha simply showed a natural aptitude for killing and as he cleaved through the camp, even killed the local contenders to be Warboss, even though Gnasha had no real idea what he had just achieved. The camp truly went wild with this development, and what was once an intriguing amusement broke out into an all out brawl that threatened to consume the WAAAGH!!! before it even got started. The fighting raged on more and more intensely however, and day dragged into night. As the moon hung drearily over the still raging conflict below, it gave a sign from Mork and Gork themselves as it glowed a dreary green and illuminated the makeshift battle from above. Finally Azhag The Slaughterer himself could not help but to intervene, and faced Gnasha directly in combat. With the glow of "The Bad Moon" behind him and atop Skullmuncha, Azhag pressed forward to save The WAAAGH!!! and locked into combat with Gnasha himself. Their fight stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, and apparently was so fierce and horrific an engagement that the remainder of the Greenskins in camp stopped fighting each other just to witness the outcome of this melee. The outlines of Mork and Gork illuminated the two fighters, and the witnessing Greenskins swore that they had found the scions of their Gods in flesh and blood, and that they would follow them to the ends of The Old World and conquer everything along the way. But the fight between Azhag The Slaughterer and Gnasha did not cease, until Gork and Mork actually descended from the heavens and forcibly stomped the two into the dirt with their massive feet. Incredibly Gnasha, Azhag The Slaughterer, and Skullmuncha all emerged from this deathblow not only unhurt but stronger than before. The two great Warbosses then looked upon one another as equals and with joined arms raised their fists and started The WAAAGH!!! that would blanket The Old World in green forever. Emil reflected on these recordings in his own work that while it was unlikely Gnasha rose to success so rapidly, and with such clear aid from The Greenskin deities, it is possible that the accounts of his fighting ability weren't entirely exaggerated. Sometimes an Orc simply had the strength and martial prowess to crush all challengers, he had recently recorded such a thing with Sly and knew it wasn't entirely unfeasible. Emil seemed skeptical about the rest of recordings concerning Gnasha during this timeframe, and simply stated that the genuine truth concerning Gnasha's early life would probably never be truly known.

What can be entirely agreed upon by most sources concerning Gnasha and agreed upon by Emil is that Gnasha's military career and command of the WAAAGH!!! began proper at Mount Gunbad, the exact site where the previous WAAAGH!!! Ratgash had ended years earlier. Azhag The Slaughterer had built this place as a base of sorts to press into The Silverpeaks, but rather than being able to face Dwarves as expected, Azhag instead was forced to faced Archaon The Everchosen and his hordes when they pressed hard into The Sliverpeaks and a wild three way war for the mountain ranges ensued. Archaon The Everchosen certainly hadn't committed the bulk of his forces to this endeavor, gathering more or less an army or two to eliminate the Dwarven and Greenskin presence in the area. However, he DID personally lead several of the armies in battle confident such a task would be an easy chance to gather more warriors to his banner and extend the glory of The Ruinous Powers. Ulitmately Azhag The Slaughterer, Gnasha, and the fighting spirit of The Dawi to their final breath would prove Archaon wrong. The Everchosen pressed harder and harder into The Silverpeaks and faced stubborn resistance first from The Dwarves led by Thorgrim Grudgebearer. Archaon ultimately would prevail and eliminated The Dwarves from existence, but in so doing had taken harsh losses with each and every Karak destroyed. Losses were made even harsher by difficulty moving through the unforgiving terrain and even some of the mightiest champions of Chaos simply froze to death in the unforgiving confines of The Silverpeaks. Such difficulties with the terrain were largely avoided by The Dawi and Greenskins, who simply used The Underway to avoid losses to the weather and expedite travel. Archaon The Everchosen then fell upon The Greenskins and his campaign to destroy The Silverpeaks would ultimately screech to a halt. While he managed to take a few holds from The Greenskins, Azhag and Gnasha together delayed and frustrated Archaon over and over again and sent new armies to replace the ones they lost in very short time. The campaign as a whole had been reduced to an attrition war that heavily favored The Greenskins. Eventually Archaon's forces committed to The Silverpeaks were wiped out in pitched battle before Mount Gunbad itself, and Archaon's campaign to invade The Badlands died with them. Since WAAAGH!!! Gnasha was well underway and he was even reported to be engaged against Archaon The Everchosen himself, he earned more notoriety and as a result there were more sources to pull from concerning him and it was no longer necessary to have to trust Greenskin accounts at their word. Human intelligence reports of Gnasha during this timeframe were relatively straightforward, and consistently report that he spent his time shadowing Azhag The Slaughterer into battle and generally performed few if any military maneuvers or movements on his own. Gnasha lost most of his army facing Archaon The Everchosen, but reportedly managed to keep it from falling apart outright. By the time Archaon was expulsed from The Silverpeaks, Gnasha had roughly a third of his forces left to command. By and large, his efforts were simply recorded and agreed to be an extension of Azhag's and little more is recorded by Human sources. Dawi accounts are a little more intricate on the subject, but also were recorded at the time of a cultural extermination, making the account dreary to put it lightly. There are few accounts (no accounts really) that put Gnasha in a positive light, as many of them record him as the reason for their decline and ultimately annihilation. There are entire Dawi volumes dedicated entirely to insulting him, his family, his race, his home, and everything and anything that might be deemed offensive to that particular Greenskin's sensibilities. Once one sorts through the deep seated and obvious hatred in these tomes however, a few useful insights were offered by The Dawi concerning Gnasha before the final moments of their people. For example it is recorded by The Dawi that by the time that Gnasha had helped defeat Archaon he had already earned a reputation and surname and his new full name was "Gnasha Da Bossy Git." Most of his new army found the title amusing, and it stuck. Gnasha Da Bossy Git showed an unusual talent for shouting and while it is common for Greenskins to be brazen, loud, and obnoxious to begin with Gnasha was apparently so good at it that he could successfully stop infighting and other distractions with his booming and naturally projecting voice. There are even recorded instances of mutinies and dissention being addressed entirely by Gnasha shouting and hollering at his army for hours on end. Gnasha's gear according to The Dawi was rather mixed in usefulness and awe, some pieces were legitimately useful and impressive while others were boring at best. Gnasha rode atop a fierce tempered, loud, and obnoxious Warthog named Throatgouga. Reportedly the two got along very well. As for his weapons Gnasha wielded a massive but unremarkable sword that more resembled a massive rectangular block with edges than a conventional blade. Gnasha insisted over and over again that the blade was special, that he had taken it from "Da Stunty Fires" and that it was of better quality than average swords. The Dawi seem to agree the sword would have been of higher quality and probably came from a Dwarven kiln, but whoever had molded it into a sword had done a terrible job at doing so. Gnasha also wore a necklace gleaming with a white stone as a centerpiece. It seemed to weaken magical attacks against him, and many Dwarven Runesmiths not only note the Obsidian's properties but reflect on their own work using the material. What made this sample unique is that supposedly this was the only surviving relic of the old Warbosses and was in fact the very same obsidian sample once wielded by Ublug himself years before. While Greenskin accounts overwhelmingly agree this is the case, Dawi sources on the same subject agree that there was really no way to verify the truth of this one way or the other and delve no further.

Shortly after his attempted invasion of The Silverpeaks and The Badlands beyond, Archaon The Everchosen and his host were defeated by the combined forces of The Old World. It is generally agreed that no one force completely contributed to his defeat, but the fierce fighting and ultimate sacrifices given by The Dawi and The Svlvanian Lords was likely more responsible than any other force in contributing to Archaon's downfall. Gnasha's exploits are reliably, but unremarkably recorded thereafter mostly by Human scouts as he followed Azhag The Slaughterer throughout The Old World. Azhag The Slaughterer had at this point busied himself more with gathering relics and weapons than actually conquering anything, and inevitably Gnasha Da Bossy Git was forced to tag along. Grimgor Ironhide had gathered so much wealth, notoriety, and armies to his banner that it no longer mattered if an army or two of his army did something not strictly conquest related, and this was certainly the case with Azhag The Slaughterer for many years. In time however, The Greenskin scourge was legitimately beginning to cover the entirety of The Old World, The Crooked Moon Tribe led by Skarsnik actually confederated with Grimgor Ironhide, and when Wurrzag Da Great Green Prophet refused to do the same with The Bloody Handz they were simply annihilated to the last by Grimgor's massive and now quite unstoppable hordes. The Badlands, The Silverpeaks, and a great deal of everything else in The Old World now answered in total unison to Grimgor Ironhide and The Empire soon felt the full wrath and power of the Greenskins upon their doorstep. This is where the recordings gathered by Emil, and concerning Emil von Bickenstadt stop all together. It is recorded that Altdorf, the capital of The Empire would be the last bastion of humanity for years and that several Greenskin armies and leaders were defeated trying to raze it to the ground. Azhag The Slaughterer and Gnasha Da Bossy Git simply weren't among these killed Greenskin leaders. But no matter how many they killed The Empire simply couldn't resist as army after army was sent to annihilate them at Grimgor Ironhide's behest and finally Altdorf, and quite frankly humanity as a whole met it's end. All that is known concerning Emil is that his cell was found opened by debris from the battle and that his body was nowhere to be found. Tracks from his cell led north, seemingly headed toward The Chaos Wastes themselves and that is where the tale of Emil von Bickenstadt, The last playwright of humanity supposedly meets it's end...

The Chief in The North-Norsca AAR Coming Soon...

[Alwyn]

Exciting events here, with the arrival of Archaon The Everchosen as events reach their climax.

You mentioned that a new Chief in the North-Norsca AAR is coming soon - I look forward to that. Does that mean that this AAR has reached its end? (That might be obvious to someone who is familiar with Warhammer lore and the Total War: Warhammer game - I am unfamiliar with both, so I might be missing things which are obvious to others.)