Chris Wright - Age of Sigmar - Omnibus

Centuries of desolation had done little to diminish the scale of Elixia, and the men looked upon it with sorrow and awe. The tall walls of the Eldritch Fortress withdrew behind shattered ruins as the Stormhosts marched nearer, leaving only the tower visible. Broken buildings crowded the road with increasing density upon the approach, but the city proper was a jagged silhouette upon a bluff.

Vandus ordered a halt at the foot of these cliffs and called a council of war. The twelve Stormhosts were each sent to a different point of the tumbled walls, while a dozen Warrior Chambers were directed northwards to reinforce the Stormcasts holding the Silverway entrance. This could be seen far away, a dark slot in another tumbledown city clinging to the mountainside.

Bidding his men be wary, Vandus ordered the advance of the Stormhosts. He and Thostos led the way through a melted gateway that must once have been every bit as impressive as those of Azyrheim. As Vandus looked upon Elixia’s despoliation a thought troubled his mind over and again — this could so easily have been the fate of Azyr had Sigmar not sealed the realmgates.

Statuary lay broken in the streets, ornate temples and palaces were roofless derelicts, only the dryness of Anvrok saving them from total disintegration. Everywhere Vandus witnessed the touch of Chaos: twisted statues, deformations to the ground, buildings warped into ludicrous monstrosities, terrified faces trapped in stone. Friezes and statues were subtly warped to mocking effect: town dignitaries had the heads of swine, gods the faces of fools. Sorrowful phantoms cried on the wind, and when birds were scared up from their eyries, they clattered skywards on wings of metal, shouting in the voices of men.

The Stormhosts were forced to go retinue by retinue along the streets, for their sheer numbers hampered their manoeuvres. The columns, already split on entering the city, were forced to divide again. Tumbled heaps of scrap further blocked the streets, slowing them to a crawl. The Bladestorm and the Hammerhand Warrior Chambers went together, always at the fore.

Where the voices of the dead were absent, silence ruled the place, swallowing up the footsteps of the Stormcasts. Thostos burned with a palpable fury, his eyes fixed upon the tower of the sorcerer. Andricus Stoneheart shook his head at Vandus. Both were wary of Thostos’ change, and Vandus was tense, anticipating disaster to come.

They reached a wide square, paved with green slabs of copper and bronze. Ruined workshops surrounded the space, with enough of their collapsed arcades still intact to hint at the square’s past glories. Upon the wall was a sign in ancient script.

‘The Square of Living Blades,’ read Vandus.

‘Here was the armoury of Celemnis, Maiden of the Blades,’ said Ionus. He gestured to an impressive ruin on the west side of the square. ‘There she bound threads of her hair into the core of each sword. It is said that they could cut through soul and flesh with equal ease.’

In the centre was a single statue of tarnished silver upon a tall plinth. There was a haunting beauty to the woman it depicted, and an overwhelming sadness.

‘That must be her, but she died when the city fell, or so I would have thought. Who raised a statue to her?’ Ionus paused, suddenly alert. Vandus held up his fist, halting his men.

‘What is it?’

‘Death. Pain. Something else…’ Ionus’ words trailed off. His eyes were drawn to the collapsed arches of the arcade, and a movement there. ‘Watch the shadows!’ called Cryptborn urgently. His Retributor bodyguard drew in close.

As if Ionus’ warning were a signal, hundreds of horned warriors came scrambling from the ruins, screaming incoherently.

‘The sorcerer’s minions,’ said Thostos. ‘This time he sends evil men to contest our approach.’

‘We shall pass the test, brother,’ said Vandus. ‘Liberators, forward! Judicators, take the high ground!’ he ordered. ‘These are irritants, nothing more.’

Thostos made no reply, but lifted his hammer and sword and thundered into the square, sparks fizzling on his armour. Savages leapt from the arcade to fall upon him, but they were hurled back, their blood painting the metal red. Lord Thostos drove on across the square, hacking his way towards the road at the other side. His men streamed from the column and ran after him.

‘Thostos, wait!’ shouted Vandus.

Within seconds, Thostos Bladestorm had disappeared entirely. Vandus had not the time to go after him. Horns blared, and ambush erupted from all sides.

Throughout the city the vanguards of each Stormhost suddenly found themselves beset. Armoured warrior-chiefs roared, and a horde of bare-chested tribesmen burst from concealment. Vandus’ Hammerhands were assailed from both sides of the street. Half a dozen fell as the servants of Chaos got among them.

Vandus smashed down a man who leapt at him from a slender bridge. Calanax blasted another apart with a bolt of lightning from his maw.

‘I had anticipated an ambush, not an army. They come as if from nowhere!’ said Vandus.

‘There is magic behind this,’ shouted Ionus. He slammed his reliquary staff down. White light blazed around him. ‘But I have magic of my own.’

The worshippers of Tzeentch recoiled as the men they had cut down got to their feet, ready to fight again. Battle raged everywhere. Thostos’ Warrior Chamber in particular was becoming overstretched. They fought without order, their thirst for vengeance overcoming their training. A portion of the enemy in the square broke and fled, and the Celestial Vindicators pursued them. Many were laid low by axes, while others were battered to the ground by a hail of metal chunks cast from on high as they went into the westward streets.

‘Hold the line!’ called Vandus. ‘Halt!’

‘You may as well call for a hurricane to halt its fury, son,’ said Andricus. ‘Their prey is in sight, and the Celestial Vindicators will kill them all, or die in the attempt.’

Vandus took stock of his circumstances. With Lord Thostos missing and his Warrior Chamber over-extended, Vandus’ own flank was dangerously exposed. Hundreds more Chaos worshippers came out of the ruins, seeking to cut the line of Celestial Vindicators storming after Thostos in two.

‘Stoneheart!’ called Vandus, pointing at the pursuers.

‘Lord-Celestant,’ said the Lord-Castellant. ‘Hammerhands, with me!’ He ran to meet the foe, three dozen paladins at his side.

Calanax whirled around. More of the Stormcasts were making their way into the city, driving into the rear of the ambush. From north and south, sigmarite warhorns sounded. Vandus’ host was at the heart of the attack, but the ambushers were being encircled in turn.

‘Into the square!’ Vandus urged his men. ‘Make formation about the statue!’

With a precision born of long practice, the Hammerhands surged forward, Ionus and his Retributors to the front. They carved out a space around the statue, and the Liberators locked their shields around it. Judicators came running, filling the centre of the Hammerhands’ hollow square and loosing their bows as they ran, joining their fire with that coming down from the ruins above. The air hissed with arrows. Prosecutors flew in formation overhead, picking off warriors who showed themselves on the roofs.

‘Come out! I call to the architect of the attack!’ Vandus bellowed. Calanax bounded around the periphery of the square, the pair of them slaying every man they came across. ‘Come out and show your face. I, Vandus Hammerhand, challenge you to single combat!’ Mocking laughter echoed across the city, but no one came forward.

‘Appeals to martial pride will not work here, Vandus,’ shouted Ionus. ‘The followers of Tzeentch are far subtler than those of Khorne.’