Chris Wright - Age of Sigmar - Omnibus

‘It follows us?’

‘Akin to a cloud of sulphurous flies, yes. I also saw something beyond the ridge, another Warrior Chamber.’ He turned as a trumpet sounded, the signal to take wing.

Lightning crackled across Kyrus’s gilded pinions as he arched his neck to the heavens.

‘Prosecutor,’ Vandus said quickly, knowing the prospect of reinforcement close by meant nothing if they failed here. ‘Fly high and turn back this cloud for us. Once our sight is returned, I shall order the attack and crush this vermin.’

Kyrus nodded curtly, leaving with his warriors and soaring aloft with peals of thunder.

As the Prosecutors departed, the Bloodbound rushed in again and the press of battle resumed. It did so only for a short while longer. Above, the storm rumbled and thunder broke heavily across the sky.

A tempest was born in the heavens, and it drove the poisonous fog away.

Above, Kyrus’s retinue were beating their celestial wings in concert. And as soon as Vandus could see the warrior-heralds through the rapidly dissipating sulphur cloud, he knew it was time.

‘Break ranks and attack!’ he yelled, Calanax rearing up in belligerent abandon.

The shieldwall split as the Liberators allowed the heavier armoured Retributors to come forth. Well-drilled Judicators moved to the flanks and loosed an endless enfilading arrow storm into the scattered rear ranks of the Bloodbound horde.

With the Retributors unleashed, the Liberators broke up into smaller warrior-bands and struck down any who had escaped the wrath of their brothers’ lightning hammers.

Riding at the speartip of the attack, Vandus spurred Calanax into a loping run. The dracoth’s ground-eating strides soon had them leading the charge. The Goretide warriors were still numerous but had been scattered by the sudden attack and disorientated by the disappearance of the fog.

Vandus saw the bodies of their dead, men he knew the Stormcasts could not have slain, and balked at the blood price Khorne’s worshippers were willing to pay for their lord’s favour.

One of the Skull Lord’s chieftains still clung to the hope that his dark master would avail them. But the shadow of the Realm of Chaos was fading, just as the sulphur clouds receded into nothing. Towers of brass and pyramids of skulls, the crimson rain of fury unbound and the brazen bellowing of daemons from beyond the veil; all became as smoke and echoes.

It had felt different to when the bloodsecrator had unleashed hell before the Gate of Azyr, but no less disturbing. Vandus would be glad to burn this patina of blood and violence from his armour.

He would begin with the chieftain.

From the back of Calanax, Vandus levelled his hammer at the brutal-looking warrior.

The dracoth quickly despatched the few followers the chieftain had left. Vandus then dismounted, his eyes never leaving his prey. Bellowing with fury, the chieftain came at the Lord-Celestant with a flanged maul.

Vandus parried his reckless attacks, before crushing the chieftain’s shoulder and disarming him. Calanax pounced, pinning him down.

‘Is this the graven image of your lord?’ asked Vandus with disgust, regarding a sigil burned into the chieftain’s chest. Tattered remnants of images persisted in the wake of the blood sacrifice, and Vandus found it hard to keep a rein on his anger. In his mind, he saw himself crushing the chieftain to pulp, grinding his bones and devouring his heart, rending his limbs and…

Vandus slowly closed his eyes and made his heart still. When he looked out again, he was calm and the blood rage had passed.

‘It is fell, indeed, isn’t it,’ spat the chieftain through red-rimed teeth. He rasped, finding it hard to breathe with his chest crushed beneath the dracoth’s claw. ‘Khorne cares not from whence the blood flows…’ he murmured, as a horrible gargle rose up from his throat.

Vandus glared at him. ‘Your warlord, the one known as Korghos Khul — does he yet live?’

Despite his fatal injuries, the chieftain laughed.

‘One such as he is not so easily killed,’ he said. ‘You seek a reckoning? He said you would.’

‘He is here?’ asked Vandus, his voice suddenly agitated. ‘Where?’

The chieftain laughed again, coughing up gouts of blood before he continued.

‘At the Red Pyramid, you will meet again,’ he said, growing more animated with every word. ‘Your severed head in his hands…’ blood foamed and frothed in his mouth, ‘…held aloft for the glory of—’

Calanax tore off his head and swallowed it down.

Vandus released the grip he had on Heldensen. His body trembled with anger, and he had not realised how tightly he was clenching the hammer’s haft.

Sack the Red Pyramid, and then defeat Khul. End him this time. It was as he had said to Ionus Cryptborn, and so it must be.

‘Gratitude, my friend,’ Vandus murmured, stroking the scales on the dracoth’s back and eliciting a rumbling growl from the beast.

With the death of the chieftain, the battle was all but over.

Throngs of Liberators struck down blood warriors and bloodreavers, their zeal for carnage much diminished.

Volleys of skybolts from disciplined firing lines of Judicators took down packs of khorgoraths, who fell, pinioned by lightning-wreathed shafts.

Prosecutors ranged the flanks to destroy any who fled or had been spared annihilation by the vengeful Retributors. The armoured paladins were relentless, and crushed almost everything in sight.

In short order the Chaos war host was vanquished utterly. Not a soul remained.

Vandus played his part, he and Calanax hunting for khorgoraths. Heldensen sang a litany of purification as it smashed skulls and broke limbs.

It was Kyrus who interrupted his leader, gently coming down from on high to stand before Vandus and his steed.

‘Lord-Celestant…’ Always so dutiful, so dignified, yet the tumult of righteous fury still raged in his eyes and radiated off his blazing wings.

‘The other Warrior Chamber you spoke of?’ asked Vandus, as Calanax gored the last of the blood warriors they had been fighting.

Kyrus nodded. ‘I will lead you, my lord.’ He gestured towards the distant ridge line with one of his crackling hammers. ‘Over there.’

‘Dacanthos,’ Vandus called, ‘finish up these scum and meet us at the edge of the ridge.’

The Liberator-Prime crashed his gauntlet to his chest in salute and affirmation.

Vandus had already reined Calanax in, turning the dracoth’s head in the direction his Prosecutor had pointed. ‘Lead us then, brother.’

Leaping skyward, Kyrus flew low and steady so his Lord-Celestant could keep up. He need not have bothered, for Calanax was preternaturally fast and the three of them reached the Volatus Ridge swiftly.

The sight beyond the edge of the ridge and into the valley below was a welcome one. After several days of unremitting battle against a seemingly endless tide of foes, the possibility of reinforcement was at hand.

‘Stormcasts,’ said Vandus, as Calanax perched at the very edge of the ridge. The relief in the Lord-Celestant’s voice was almost palpable. ‘We are not alone, after all.’

‘It is the Goldenmanes,’ uttered Kyrus, his sight keen and far reaching enough to discern the precise nature of their allies.

Vandus could see the blue and gold of the Hammers of Sigmar, but not who led the warriors. Despite that fact, he knew the leader of the Goldenmanes well.

‘Lord-Celestant Jactos. Hunting down Goretide stragglers.’

Though the battle was distant, Vandus could see that the chamber chased down a beaten foe. Their pursuit looked a little unruly. The Goldenmanes’ heraldor was already sounding the victory.

‘As bold and headstrong as ever, it would seem.’