Chris Wright - Age of Sigmar - Omnibus

The army of Theuderis arrayed on the heights above the river, a line of ivory and blue that stretched far, the air above crackling with latent celestial energy. The Silverhand himself sat astride his dracoth, which reared in salute to the Warbeasts, lightning forking from its mouth. Knights-Vexillor and Knights-Heraldor held the line for a moment, awaiting the command of their lord.

Theuderis swung down his blade and the clarions blared. Icons aloft, the Knights-Vexillor led the attack. Lightning churned along the defile, leaping in chains through the warriors in the river, charring fleshing and melting armour.

Wrath incarnate, the Knights Excelsior fell upon the Chaos host with a single refrain echoing down the gorge.

‘For the glory of Sigmar!’

The first charge of the Knights Excelsior broke the will of the Chaos tribes. Pressed into the confines of the Black River those at the front could do little but fight desperately, but even their greatest warriors were no match for the spear of Theuderis and his Paladin Conclave leading the charge. Those further downriver saw the thousands of ivory-and-blue giants and fled at the sight, all bargains with the skaven, all alliances and dreams of possessing the City of Ice, overwhelmed by the spectacle of Sigmar’s wrath given form.

Arkas and his Warbeasts met the monstrous khorgoraths, gargants and mutants head-on, relishing the challenge of fighting such warped beasts. The waters of the Black River frothed with unnatural blood and ichor, and the ravine sparked with flares of celestial energy as Stormcasts were torn apart or crushed, but the Celestial Vindicators were irrepressible.

Scoured and blinded by the purging light of the celestial beacons held aloft by the Knights-Azyros, the barbarians called prayers to their twisted gods, beseeching the Dark Powers to save them, even as the warriors of Sigmar slew with abandon. None were answered.

While Arkas and his warriors were a rampaging beast, slaughtering at will as they forged down the river, the Silverhands were a devastating, unstoppable storm that swallowed everything with a machine-like relentlessness and left nothing but corpses in its wake. The black waters reflected the fire of the heavenly realm and seemed to burn with it as the followers of Chaos were consumed.

The killing went on until mid-afternoon, spilling from the river onto an expanse of the Bear’s Pelt, where thousands more tainted natives were cut down where they fled — slashed, crushed and pierced by the celestial weapons of Sigmar’s host.

Arkas did not weary of it, but ran out of foes. Hastor came to him bearing greeting from Theuderis and he bade his Knight-Venator to return the compliment and lead the Lord-Celestant to Ajfor so that he might be brought into the City of Ice.

In the depths of the city, in a chamber of reclaimed duardin stone and carved ice lit only by a small, guttering oil lamp, Theuderis evaluated his companions. Arkas Warbeast looked like any other Stormcast Lord-Celestant, though his armour showed far less wear and damage than Theuderis’ own. He crouched, arms on thighs, speaking with the woman, Katiya. She was not what the Lord-Celestant had been expecting when the Warbeast had offered to broker a meeting with the leader of the free Ursungorans.

She was small, though not frail, skin weathered by constant exposure to the harsh elements. She wore only rudimentary armour, but bore a sword, bow and quiver with the ease of a lifetime’s experience. She spoke softly to Arkas in their shared language. For all that elders were objects of respect and receptacles of wisdom, it was hard for Theuderis to believe this woman was a war-leader. Her voice would never rise above the din of battle. She could not be at the heart of the fighting, leading by example.

Katiya looked at him, and he almost flinched from her grey stare, ashamed of his thoughts. He suddenly understood, recognising in that glance the hardness of a castle wall, the strength of forged sigmarite. She returned her attention to the Warbeast, her words coming swifter and more forcefully.

‘What are you discussing?’ Theuderis asked.

Katiya stopped and frowned at the interruption in annoyance, or perhaps simply in incomprehension.

‘If we are to debate strategy I would be involved, Lord Arkas.’

‘I’m sorry, Lord Silverhand,’ the Warbeast replied. ‘The City of Ice was not dug with warriors of our stature in mind.’

‘It is of no consequence, we will not be remaining here,’ said Theuderis. ‘Your message said that the skaven are on the brink of activating the realmgate. We must stop them before that happens.’

‘We will,’ said Arkas, ‘but first we must ensure my people are safe.’

‘The Chaos army has been scattered,’ said Theuderis, troubled by Arkas’ use of the phrase, ‘my people’. It betrayed his split loyalties, but there was no purpose in raising the matter there and then. Doing so would only foster division and suspicion. Better to offer support to his ally. ‘Dead skaven are no threat. The sooner we destroy them, the safer for all of Ursungorod.’

‘The cursed ones will return,’ argued the Warbeast. He cast a glance at Katiya and stood up. ‘As for the skaven, we have seen nothing of them since we arrived. They could be preparing an attack, hoping to exploit the damage done by their human puppets.’

‘If that is the case, I suggest our original strategy remains the best course. Divert the skaven, lure them from their lair, and I will strike into the heart of their domain and seize the realmgate. Faced with two armies of Stormcasts, the skaven will pay little mind to the few survivors hiding here.’

Arkas considered this until Katiya spoke. The two exchanged heated words, accompanied by small but insistent gestures, Katiya jabbing a finger at Arkas and pointing away, the Lord-Celestant making halting motions with upraised hands.

‘She wants to fight,’ said Theuderis, guessing Katiya’s intent, picking up on some of the words already familiar to him. ‘You should let them.’

Arkas approached and spoke quietly, concerned that Katiya might take something from their tone even though she could not know the meaning of his words.

‘We go into a battle that even our Stormcasts cannot imagine. For centuries the skaven have dominated here, multiplying unchallenged, strengthening their defences. I do not expect many of us to see victory. We cannot take the Ursungorans into that.’

Theuderis took a breath and a pace back, uncomfortable with Arkas’ closeness. He looked around the chamber, nothing more than a space created in the glacier. There were no furnishings, no belongings save the pack and bedroll that leaned against the wall behind Katiya.

‘They have been wanting to fight for generations,’ said the Knight Excelsior. ‘But they have clung to a different ideal. To survive. That so many of them are still here is testament to the success of that strategy, but it cannot last. We have heard the tales from other chambers, other Stormhosts that have been into the Mortal Realms. Many lands are completely lost, others have but a handful of people not swayed or enslaved by the Dark Powers.’

‘Every reason why we cannot risk them,’ Arkas said sharply. He clenched his fists. ‘This is our war, we must fight it for them.’

‘They are an army, of sorts. They have proven themselves capable. For what reason have they clung to existence if not for the day when they can strike back at their oppressors, to fight for the freedom they crave? It is clear they venerate you — I saw their looks when we entered their city. As you say, we need every warrior we can muster.’

Arkas shook his head and did not reply. Katiya barked something at him and he turned away. She grabbed at his arm as Arkas strode towards the arch of ice leading from the chamber, but he pulled from her grasp, the hammer weights that adorned his cloak clattering against each other.