Warhammer Fantasy: A Dynasty of Dynamic Alcoholism

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Imperious said:
How are we to do that when Fredrick's a melee fighter who needs to get close in order to fight?



Dude.

You want to shoot canonballs at Thorgar.

When Magnus is next to him.

Dude.

I hope I'm just misunderstanding somehow.
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Well, we have a ogre with a handheld cannon, who will go with us into close combat. It would probably be tricky to time the fuse right, but it could work.
 
I'm pretty sure that for all we aren't enthused with the Empire's gods (save Shallya) we are actively hostile to the Chaos Gods.
 
[X] Bloodthirster and Legion: You must trust Magnus. Some unspoken rule of one-on-one combat has been enacted, and not a single Khornate approaches. Any that do are cut down by their fellows. If you break that rule…you aren't sure if they'll swarm or not. Besides, the Bloodthirster is the greater threat, ripping and tearing apart your lines! Reiksmarshal Drakenhoff is heading right towards the damn thing, but he is but one man with a runefang. It would be better if there are two. Besides, you can shift an army to assist, which is far more than you can concentrate into the small part of the battlefield that has cleared for the titanic duel. You would be a burden on Magnus in that, and even worse a detriment.

What's a twiggy?
 
Battle of Three Armies 4
  • Threadmarks
    • The Battle of Three Armies, Part 4​

    Magnus and Thorgar warily circle one another, axe and hammer held in two handed grips. The whipping tail of the Daemon Prince lazily cracks back and forth, while blood continues to poor from the honestly quite savage wound that was torn into Blood Lords back. You don't know what managed to tear the wing off of him, but whoever did it brought a hefty advantage to the field…on the side of the Emperor. For now, none of the Khornates interfere, and seem to be going out of their way to stream around the duo, even if it meant that they were getting shot full of holes to do it. You blink, and then they move.

    The axe sweeps over Magnus who ducks beneath, Ghal Maraz whipping out to clip at Thorgar's knuckles, smashing apart one of the fingers and sending a splash of gore outwards. The daemon bellows in pain, but still has nine other digits to keep a grip on his weapon. With an enormous crack, it the blade of the axe slams into the earth, hard enough to cleave bedrock, only for Magnus to somehow dodge out of the way. But then you have no more time for that, and find yourself in the position of having to have…faith…in Magnus. Up ahead the Bloodthirster seems to be having a grand old time in its oddly circular path. It seems satisfied with just causing pure carnage as it dances between the greenskin lines and that of the Imperials. Where it goes, the servants of Chaos follow, and you grimace at the fact that there truly begins a mêlée à trois.

    Greenskins fight Chaos Warriors who fight Imperials who fight Greenskins who fight Imperials. And right in the center of it, practically luxuriating in the immense bloodshed while causing plenty of its own, is the Bloodthirster. Even as you glare at it, you feel a horrendous buzzing filling your ears, and a massive headache coming on. Growling, you press on towards it, cutting your way through.

    "OSTLAND! We GO!" you roar out.

    A series of affirmative war cries reach your ears. As one the handgunners of Ostland shift, while the soldiers of Nordland and Ostermark do the same. The Thunderbringers assemble as best they can, though you cannot deny that some of them are flagging, large wounds carved into them by sheer brutish greenskin strength or malicious Chaos-born power. But none have fallen just yet, and for that you are grateful. Behind you the vague sounds of cannons boom off, but they've grown distant beneath the angry itchy buzzing you get when you look directly at the Bloodthirster. Apparently the Reiksmarshal is unaffected by this, the heavily bandaged veteran pushing the Reiksguard forward, accompanied by two Warrior Priests covered with golden light.

    (Charge of Ostland/Ostermark/Nordland 78+11=89/100)

    But you aren't them, and soon you are submerged in the absolute pit of bodies. Out of the wild melee you spy a troll beating a Chaos Knight to death with a club that even Urgdug would take issue with lifting, before Imperials set it aflame and send it flailing back into the masses. As you cut through the spine of a Chaos Warrior and split them apart with Brain Wounder, an orc runs past, two Flesh Hounds devouring its arms, only for the damn orc to leap onto a goblin shining with green lighting. Both explode, sending gore and viscera everywhere. Around you, everyone fights, and fights well. Urgdug kicks and punches, wielding his enormous personal club in one hand, the cannon in the other, effectively dual wielding the things before ordering his Thunderbringers to open a path directly in front of you. Twenty five cannon blasts do just that, tearing a gaping empty hole in the fight that you gladly fill.

    Halberdiers cut and stab, while the ranks of the handgunners remain back, as calm and composed as they can be. The Bull Warriors appear, charging and tearing down a group of armored orcs with impunity. The Knights of the White Wolf go charging past, their mauls crushing and pulping all who they fall upon. But it is not all perfect, casualties are inevitable.

    A daemon riding another daemon shows up, and tears an ogre to pieces before his fellows know what is happening. In response they use their prodigious strength to draw and quarter the beast before the Bloodletter atop the suddenly de-limbed Juggernaut is shot by twenty different handgunners. Meaty chunks are torn out of a Knight, you can't tell which Order he's from due to the gore and mud being splattered everywhere, at the hands of a group of savage goblins. They peel apart his armor like a shellfish, the man screams and kicks all the while before finally and mercifully falling silent. A pack of Bloodletters advance upon Count Rudolf, whose Greatswords rise to meet them immediately.

    But still, you cut and stab your way through, cutting and kicking if needed, if only to reach the Reiksmarshal. You won't let him face that thing alone for any longer than you have to. With a final roar of effort, you and the lead elements of Ostland's army push your way through…to a scene of devastation. Bisected horses and torn apart knights lie everywhere, great scorch lines lie along the grounds where that damn whip cracked back and forth. At the forefront is the Reiksmarshal, and a bare smattering of knights.

    "Urgdug, I'm going to go help distract it. Please shoot it," you grunt. Urgdug nods heavily enough for you to notice even amidst the din.

    You take a step forward, and then halt, the buzzing increasing even more in your head. You grit your teeth, even as your body vibrates with the sheer unnaturalness that the Bloodthirster puts out. A pat on your shoulder reveals Urgdug, who hands you an ogre sized flask. Oh thank goodness. You drained your own far too early. You take a heavy swig, and wince at the burning. But at least the burning seems to dampen the buzzing somewhat. Then you take one step forward, Brain Wounder at the ready. Then another. Then another.

    Then you are running forward across the no man's land between the perimeter and the farthest reaches of the Bloodthirster's weapons and right at its feet where Drakenhoff is. Also, you distantly notice you are yelling.

    (Not A Surprise Attack 35+11+5+5FocusedonDrakenhoff= 56/100)

    Things go wrong pretty quickly. The daemon turns faster than should be possible at that size, and with a flick of its wrist sends the whip of pure destruction in its hand down towards you. You dodge out of the way, or at least thought you did, as when the whip actually snaps along the ground it erupts in a small explosion of fire and pain that sends you flying. Thankfully it sends you flying forward, so you land at its enormous stomping cloven hooves with only a moderate flash of pain from the back of your body where the metal of your armor has grown white hot with heat.

    You try to blink through the pain, and are treated to the sight of a massive black cloven hoof rocketing down towards you. The strength behind it is such that it could probably liquefy you inside your armor should it slam onto you directly. With a grunt, drag yourself forwards.

    (Dodging Death 53+11+5+5=74/100)

    Most of you dodges. You scream in pain as the whole of your left arm is crushed beneath the hoof of the Bloodthirster, crunched into the dirt and ravaging the flesh and armor alike by sheer weight and speed. By this point you have grown familiar with the sensation of bone poking out of bare flesh, and that is most certainly what sensations your body is sending you from everything from your fingertips to your shoulder. But then Drakenhoff is there, and he cuts a mighty gash into the leg of the beast, forcing it to raise up the leg momentarily. The white flashes of pain nearly knock you entirely unconscious regardless, and you feel the blackness of unconsciousness rising up in your vision.

    (Lore of Life 87/100)

    But then the pain fades unnaturally quickly. The unique and honestly quite horrifying sensation of bone and flesh mending while you are fully conscious is what you are treated to, while your eyes are rewarded for their curiosity with a vision of coiling green and white energies which wrap around your arm. The metal surrounding your arm, the parts of your armor that had been driven inward as of yet remains, entirely, leaving your magically healed arm to still be quite uncomfortable and likely pierced by the metal as soon as you move your arm again. This confuses you quite terribly until you look up and realize that you forgot that the Army of Nuln possesses quite a few Wizards thanks to Magnus's still pushing their effectiveness. Aurelion stands at their head, large bags beneath her eyes, but she grits her teeth regardless and shoves both of her hands at you. The strange ethereal colors of visible High Magic wraps around you, and then you finally feel that familiar aegis of…energies…that you had when you fought Gruber.

    "COWARD. INSECT OF INSECTS. TO RELY ON SORCERY MARKS YOUR SKULL AS WORTHLESS! YOU ARE BENEATH ME."​

    That time your ears really do burst, the bellowing voice of the Bloodthirster directly above you so loud that you can feel the squelch as they pop. It glares down at you, and such a glare would force you to void your bowels if you weren't both slightly drunken and filled with High Magic. Or…covered in it. You aren't quite sure. In any case, its curled lip is the only warning you get before it rips its axe through the air around you in a wide arc, tearing the barrier between the Warp and the physical realm. Packs of Bloodletters fall down from the sky-borne portal, their blades already whirling about them. Denied a duel with a small group of its choosing, the Bloodthirster has summoned a small army to it.

    You grin just a tad ferally as you hear the roar of Urgdug in the background. It may have an army. Well so do you.

    (Thunderbringers 78/100)

    The Bloodthirster looks up in time to see twenty five cannonballs flying at it. Roaring in fury, it twist, body warping unnaturally to avoid the blows. But it cannot do so entirely, as one tears a hole in one of the giant ragged wings. Another crashes into its horns, cracking one apart, while a third manages to slam directly into the center mass. The others all miss, or slam against the daemons axe, bouncing off and landing amongst the people around you. Said people is everyone.

    With the small scene of a small group valiantly fighting a Greater Daemon broken, greenskins, servants of Chaos, and brave Imperials all rush inwards at once. The Bloodthirster laughs, a soul chilling sound, before returning to the fight. Growling, your arm no longer shattered, you dive back in, this time with Aurelion's spell surrounding you. Another bolt of green slams into your back, staggering you, but then you continue forward. For some reason you suddenly smell wildflowers, but you ignore that as a side effect of bloodloss and exhaustion. The continued pain from your ruined left arm's armor is enough for you to rip it off after a few angry and desperate tugs, the buckles and connectors already weakened.

    Little flashes of green are in your blood. You don't know what to think about that, and after a split second decide not to as you face the Bloodthirster once again. The rest of the Reiksguard are dead by now, and its only Drakenhoff. You heft Wounder once again and charge in.

    (Round Two 32+11+HandofGlory10=52/100)

    The buzzing gets louder and louder, but at this point you just ignore it. Your runefang carves a nice trench into the lower ankle of the daemon, but the wound is essentially nothing to it, you can tell at this point. You and Drakenhoff dance between its legs again and again, while distantly you hear Urgdug ordering a reload. All around you the melee grows more and more intense, and the Wizards are caught up defending themselves from a group of Khornates and Greenskins at the same time. Aurelion cold-cocks an orc in the head hard enough to send it to the floor, but you can tell that she's wavering.

    Your instincts then screech, and you turn to see the blade of the Bloodthirsters axe flying towards you!

    (Dodge Death 66+11+10=87/100)

    Instead of leaping in any one direction or another, you just sort of…crumple. Falling to the ground entirely, bonelessly, the sweeping horizontal strike that would have cut you in half and does bisect a couple of greenskins that got too close flies onward. Rolling back up to your feet, you leap forwards and plunge your runefang into the leg of the Bloodthirster once again. Damn you wish you were taller. No, wait, no you don't, the only way for you to get taller would be Warp related bullshit, and you want no part of that. Instead you just stab again and again, finally drawing a bellow of pain from the daemon. Or maybe that was from the handgun shots of a few hundred handgunners who marshalled themselves for a unified shot. Maybe it was both.

    In any case, it gets even faster, despite the fact that it was already blisteringly so. Preposterously, Drakenhoff keeps up with it, though you are entirely loss, only seeing it when it pauses in a strike due to missing or to draw back slightly away from the Reiksmarshals blows. But only slightly, bare tilts and twitches that keep the touch of a blade from its daemon flesh by inches.

    (Drakenhoff vs. Bloodthirster 28+15=43/100)

    But the daemon keeps going faster and faster…and Drakenhoff is slowing. His wounds, already great before this battle, are taking their toll. The Jade Wizards have summoned some sort of thorn wall to rend the Chaos Warriors attacking them to shreds, but they are still embattled. You aren't fast enough to keep up with the fight. But the old man is stubborn, and still manages a few light cuts and nicks along its legs and hands. Then the whip cracks, and the fire washes over Drakenhoff and he screams.

    (Weakening Drakenhoff vs Bloodthirster 31+15=46/100)

    You are rushing forward, but as you do so he bellows and pulls his blade into a guard position again. The whip cracks down this time directly onto his chest, and you are thrown to the ground by the force of the eruption. Warp fire crackles outward, and the blackened thing which is left on the ground in no way resembles the Reiksmarshal who lead all the Knights who had gathered behind Magnus at the Gates of Kislev. The runefang of Solland is covered in soot, and remains as still as the rest of the small crater left behind by the crack of the whip.

    "NOOOOO!" you roar.

    "A Worthy Effort...But Futile."
    ​
    Snarling, you turn towards the Bloodthirster. A familiar red haze begins to color your vision, and then you are running, and leaping onto its legs, plunging Brain Wounder into its knee joint. The daemon unleashes a wordless bellow of pain as you stab again and again.

    (Climbing Mount Bloodthirster 62+11+10+Rage5=88/100)

    This is a terrible decision and you know it. Just by touching a Greater Daemon the buzzing hits your head so hard that you can feel tears of blood starting to burble down from your tear ducts. Your ears heal abruptly before popping again under the sheer volume of what sounds like a chorus of clashing steel and screams. But it just killed one of the greatest heroes of the Empire right in front of you. This…angers you. With your left hand you clutch at disgusting fur covered with clotted blood garnered over a millennia of battle, while Brain Wounder cuts and stabs into its leg. The Bloodthirster slaps down with the back of its left hand, but you growl and plunge your runefang into the meat of the daemons leg until the hilt stops, and drag as you roll over the other side of the leg to keep the hand from knocking you off. This has the added effect of leaving a runefang-length trench in its leg, but then you are climbing again.

    A cannonball flies at the daemon, forcing it to knock it away with its axe, and then you are at its groin. You do exactly what you wish to there, and carve an entire cow's worth of meat from the body. But then the daemon begins to shift, you can feel it. The same flickering motions of its body as it passed faster than the mortal realm should have allowed.

    "PATHETIC CREATURE! LESS THAN DIRT, LESS THAN DUST!"
    ​
    "Dirt and dust can kill someone if enough of it clogs their fucking throat!" you growl upwards at it.

    Unable to properly get at you with a free hand, it casts away its whip, and sends it flying outwards. The devastation an uncontrolled weapon of a Greater Daemon causes will give you nightmares for years to come. It ripples and cracks seemingly of its own free will, and a hundred good men die in an instant, followed by greenskins, and then even some of the servants of Chaos themselves. The malevolent weapon cracks itself again and again, leaving small explosions behind and scorching the ground black. As you look away, it continues on and on, reaping death and blood regardless of being wielded or not.

    (Attack on Bloodthirster 4+11+10=25/100)

    With a free hand, it swipes down at you, and you are forced to twist yourself oddly. Curling, you point Wounder out like a tack, and hiss in pain as the crushing strength slams into you. To be sure, Wounder pierces through the daemons hand all the way through, but then the fingers curl and you find yourself rising. The pain must have been at least somewhat noticeable, but it was not just negligible.

    The pain you feel when its grip squeezes you is very noticeable. Specifically because you feel your bones creaking and cracking, down in your legs. The metal of your armor crunches inwards, rending flesh and scraping the bones within. But curiously, it does not kill you, not yet. Then you scream, and justifiably so, as it brings you up and over its gaping maw. From here you can see the battlefield better than ever, and so see Thorgar struck onto the ground by Magnus who has strode upon the Daemon Princes chest, slamming Ghal Maraz down like plunging a tents stakes into the earth. Each time the Blood Lord cries out in greater and greater pain.

    "LITTLE INSECT. KNOW THAT MY THIRST IS THE ONLY REASON I GRANT YOU THIS HONOR."​

    It lets go, and you rapidly become aware of many things. That the whole 'Bloodthirster' thing really isn't a simple name. You can't feel your legs, squashed as they were by the daemons incredible strength. That Urgdug was running forwards, carrying two lit Bull Cannons with him, pushing through everyone while shouting something. A bright spark of light from Aurelion's staff burst into being…before guttering out. The sharp adrenaline-frozen moment lets you see the look of frustration on her face before she passes out entirely. But you are also aware that you are still holding a runefang. And despite the fact that you are relatively sure your ribs broke a bit…or a lot…you can still use your arm.

    (An Insects Bite 60+11+10=81/100)

    You twist, and by Shallya that hurts, but enough so that you are able to get into a hastily thought out position. You fall those last few feet…and thrust out Brain Wounder. The whole of it hacks into the side of the daemons jaw, but then the incredible forging abilities of Alaric the Mad are proven again as the blade slices downwards….and downwards…and downwards….all the way down the daemons body. From the edge of its jaw, your body slams into the daemon but your grip remains firm, the runefang's edge parting flesh, muscle, and bone down the chest, slightly into the throat, and then across the stomach. The angle is such that instead of passing straight down you go through a bit of a curve, and suddenly you grow aware of the fact that your arm has been extremely ripped out of its socket, and that a third of the screaming is the Bloodthirster, a third of it is Urgdug, and the other third is your arm's pain signals. Then you are on the ground, and slapped in the face by a piece of Bloodthirster intestines, your final curve having dipped wide enough to have partially disemboweled the daemon.

    (Earthblood 4/6, Throne In Play)

    Then the blood pouring out of the various parts of your body where bones have poked through or armor has poked in glows wildly with greenish light. What had previously been tortured breath became only very pained breath, as some of the bones in your body go back to where they are supposed to be. Not all of them, as evidenced by your left leg still bending like a birds, but you are relatively sure that your organs are not impaling themselves on broken bits of your rib cage again.

    Twin cannonballs slam into the Bloodthirsters chest, fired from Urgdug, who drops them. His helmet has been removed at some point, and your blood, already having gone from frozen in fear to hard as steel to burning hot with magic to a manner of others…goes chilly at the expression on your friends face. It is beyond thunderous and just a tad beneath monstrous.

    (Required: 55 Rolled: 57 Magnus Wins.)

    And in the distance you can hear a massive clap of something that feels like a Gods hands. The ground rumbles tremendously, so hard that you actually bounce a bit, but Urgdug kept stomping forward. A wash of sickly crimson energies washes over the battlefield, and you stare in surprise as many a Bloodletter simply disappears in mid swing. A rearing Juggernaut 'pops' leaving no hint of its presence behind. But the Bloodlthirster merely takes a wide step back, roaring as if in refusal and absolutely in pain. But Urgdug keeps advancing…and then with both of his meaty arms grasps the Bloodthirster like a tree trunk in a bear hug. Veins pop out across his face as he strains, and then he is bellowing louder than you've ever heard before.

    (Captain Urgdug Greatbellow Thunderbringer the Sizable 89/100)

    If you die tomorrow, you want this to be one of the last things you remember. If you live past this, you will tell this story until the day you die. Because the world needs to know. It needs to remember. Because as explained by Urgdug, one of the rarest known accomplishments by the strongest ogres ever was by wrestling full on giants to the ground. But you don't know if any ogre…any ogre…

    Ever managed to lift a Bloodthirster up all the way above their head and slam them down back first onto the earth again. And again. And then a final third time only this time he twisted so that it fell onto its own face. His armor warped as the ogre inside them flexed and strained harder than believed possible before that point. But Urgdug was not done. The wings of the Bloodthirster, crunched beneath its own bodyweight twice before being slammed onto its stomach, had crumpled horrendously.

    The largest ogre in Ostland growled and tugged and climbed his way onto the daemons back, and stomped forward before reaching out and grasping at the point where the wings met back. With another wild roar, he ripped, and the daemon screamed again, flipping over and sending Urgdug flying. But in your friends hands went the daemons wings. Blood fell in fountains from across the creatures body, and then it shrieked again as a series of cannonballs slammed into its body, sending it reeling.

    It flickered again, harder this time, and it took an noticable few seconds for it to fully reassert its shape again. Other, lesser daemons, had disappeared entirely. Their abilities and unnatural power had left the Khornates still alive on the field who were now being torn apart by Imperials and greenskins on both sides. Then a great lance of High Magic slammed into its chest. At the point of impact what looked like a million ropes of light spawned before wrapping wildly over the body of the beast.

    Turning, you looked to see the originator of the spell, Loremaster Teclis, who looked at the daemon with a cruel and angry expression on his face.

    "I have spent the last six months preparing and devising a ritual to truly slay a daemon of great power. I will do so today one way or another!"

    The Bloodthirster ripples and kicks, but is impossiby wrestled to the ground. Teclis and his companion slam their staffs upon the ground once…twice…three times, and every time they do so the air itself thrums harder and harder with sheer non-daemonic and non-godly but pure magical power.

    "NO! I REFUSE THIS! KHORNE SHALL SAVE ME! HE SHALL SLAY YOU ALL! YOUR SKULLS WILL BE CLAIMED! DAMN YOUR SORCERY YOU WORTHLESS PATHETIC CREATURES!"​

    "You! Human!" Teclis says, his voice rippling with the sheer weight of the power he is bringing to bear. You look up towards him, and he jerks his head towards the Bloodthirster.

    "In this state, the greatest of victories may be achieved! Do not delay! Strike it! ALL OF YOU, STRIKE IT DOWN!"

    (Cannons 48/100)
    (Thunderbringers 60/100)
    (Imperial Wizards 26/100)
    (Handgunners 89/100)

    Cannonballs fly wildly past, none of them hitting the target, while the close Thunderbringers do. Some of them are out of ammo, however, but a good seven cannonballs slam into the Bloodthirster. The magic winds appear to have disappeared…or perhaps they've all been sucked into Teclis's ritual, you don't know how magic works. But the handgunners, they are all spot on. Over ten thousand handguns crack out, and over ten thousand bullets tear into the Bloodthirster. But still it writhes on the ground, and Teclis grits his teeth even as some of the magic…whatever they were's look like they are beginning to snap.

    Urgdug appears, slightly dazed and bleeding, but alive. Good. Your eyes flick to the scorch mark that was Reiksmarshall Drakenhoff, and the blade of Solland besides him. Then down to Brain Wounder.

    "I know what you're thinking human…don't. The sheer force of true destruction of a daemon such as this will obliterate anything too close when it is terminated. We must wait for more of your soldiers to slay it! Nnggrah!" he growls as the daemon appears to swell in strength just slightly more.

    "He can do it," a voice gasps out, making all three of you turn. Aurelion has dragged herself forwards, looking half-dead from exhaustion, but conscious all the same. The light from her staff is weak, but still present.

    "Aurelion-,"

    "If the correct aegis spell is crafted, he should survive it!" she gasps out.

    You look between the two.

    Then back to the Bloodthirster.

    Then back to Aurelion.

    "Is Magnus…?" you question, your voice oddly light.

    "He yet lives, though he has been removed from the field to be taken back to Nuln. His injuries were massive, and when he slew Thorgar the Daemon Prince quite vigorously exploded," she manages in a whisper.

    Then you look down at Brain Wounder…and back up at the Bloodthirster.

    You wish you had a drink.

    [] Wait and Hope: Teclis is already straining greatly to maintain his spell/ritual upon the Bloodthirster. Damaged as it is, it is still an incredibly powerful daemon. Perhaps it will dissipate afterwards like the rest of its kin. Clearly the Chaos God of Blood has withdrawn his blessing from this endeavor. Or maybe the creature has been driven to such heights of fury that it will risk remaining in the mortal realm despite the armies against it no matter what. This will keep you safer, hopefully, unless it makes a wild bull rush against you or Urgdug. Or anyone else it seems to have a grudge towards. Magnus is still alive, so that's good. You probably have enough guns and cannons to take it down if it escapes the spell that the Loremasters have woven.

    [] Reaching Consequences: Unleashing true death upon a Greater Daemon is an incredible thing. It took Teclis months to prepare this ritual specifically, though you have little doubt that he has had centuries to prepare such a thing in general. If it breaks out, or dissipates, it will someday return to ravage the mortal realm. But you are close enough to slay it. Others are caught up in the still battle-eager greenskins and what remains of Thorgar's forces. The latter will die soon enough without their daemonic support, but the former is still going strong. Accept the best shield that can be crafted around you, and kill this thing. Magnus yet lives. The Empire is in good hands. Then again that shield cannot be made by Teclis or his comapnion...instead by very tired Wizards and an exhausted Aurelion...
     
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    • [X] Reaching Consequences: Unleashing true death upon a Greater Daemon is an incredible thing. It took Teclis months to prepare this ritual specifically, though you have little doubt that he has had centuries to prepare such a thing in general. If it breaks out, or dissipates, it will someday return to ravage the mortal realm. But you are close enough to slay it. Others are caught up in the still battle-eager greenskins and what remains of Thorgar's forces. The latter will die soon enough without their daemonic support, but the former is still going strong. Accept the best shield that can be crafted around you, and kill this thing. Magnus yet lives. The Empire is in good hands.

    Finish this shit, bagging a Greater Daemon is no small feat, and definitely worth an Elector Count.

    I mean, ideally, we'll live, but even if we don't, there's few better deaths then this.
     
    Oh we managed to climb on top of a bloodthirster. Lost the Reikmarshal and saw a troll taking down a chaos knight.

    Magnus won and Thorgar is going the way of Cormac Bloodaxe except this time he'll be dead dead.

    [X] Reaching Consequences: Unleashing true death upon a Greater Daemon is an incredible thing. It took Teclis months to prepare this ritual specifically, though you have little doubt that he has had centuries to prepare such a thing in general. If it breaks out, or dissipates, it will someday return to ravage the mortal realm. But you are close enough to slay it. Others are caught up in the still battle-eager greenskins and what remains of Thorgar's forces. The latter will die soon enough without their daemonic support, but the former is still going strong. Accept the best shield that can be crafted around you, and kill this thing. Magnus yet lives. The Empire is in good hands.

    Might as well kill another daemon.
     
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