Thy Soul To Keep - part 5

The Black Void

Everywhere across Shyish, waking dreams plagued those who scried the future – including Bolet Ghosteater, for his quest had led him to the heart of the Realm of Death. Like every visionary, mage and wise man he was haunted by the image of a vast black sphere that stole light, warmth and hope from all who witness it.

Yet only at night was its most profound consequence keenly felt. The Black Void, synonymous with oblivion in the mythic symbology of Azyr, hungered to devour all things – and in the Realm of Death, that rapacious nothingness began to consume time itself.

It started with a blink in time, a glitch in the chronology of events that few noticed bar a slight feeling of disorientation. Perhaps, if the cities of Sigmar’s free people had not striven to find order in time as well as space, it would have gone unnoticed, at least for a while. But as the effects worsened, the clockmakers and arcanists of the Amethyst Realm notice their hourglasses suddenly filled with less sand, and that at midnight, their chronocogs and water clocks glitched as if ten minutes has passed without their notice.

And so it had. For in the dead of night, the Black Void fed.

Stolen seconds turned to minutes, and then hours. As more and more time slipped away, even the most primitive and bestial species became somehow aware that their lives were being shortened by an impossible force that preyed on them from the Great Nothing.

The Rotmoons neared the verge of panic as this realisation set in. But while the unnatural darkness might herald more woes for the land, for now the shapes moving through it surely were a more pressing issue. 

~ 🕱 ~

Clash at Dawn

All fighters were deployed in a random quarter of the battlefield (1-4 on a D6) or held in reserve (5-6 on a D6). The skirmish would be won at the end of the Battle Round in which the enemy warband was reduced to half its number of fighters.

The Rotmoons (40 Renown)

Bolet Ghosteater, Fungoid Cave Shaman.

Hammerhead - Ogor

Trollumbus - Fellwater Troggoth

Dodoso - Orruk

Bondon - Orruk

The Heralds of Nagash (48 Renown)

An'sec - Knight of Shrouds

Lord Radclyffe's Riders - 3 Hexwraiths

Noisey William and co. - 3 Deadwalkers

~ 🕱 ~

Bolet waved his staff and sickle in what he hoped was a menacing way and screeched high-pitched orders in frustration and anger. He had found a few wayward members of the Rotmoon's crew and talked them into joining him. They thought they were looking for the rest of the Rotmoons, but the Cave-Shaman had other ideas.

Trollumbus and Hammerhead smashed a Deadwalker to a gooey mess on the edge of the forest. 

The Knight of Shrouds floated down from the watchtower and closed on the pirates.



A Hexwraith headed toward Bolet but the Cave-Shaman retreated.



He shrieked more orders and the big guys ran past him to intercept the ghostly rider. The Hexwraith screamed silently and faded to smoke under the heavy-hitter's barrage of blows.



Bolet chuckled to himself, as he still thought that the battle was going well, but An'sec, the Knight of Shrouds had other plans...





Bondon arrived (late) and a Hexwraith hunted him and rode him down in the darkness.



Another of Lord Radclyffe's Riders galloped out of the night.



The harbingers faced each other and Bolet did all he could to save his miserable life, using every trick he could muster, but the Knight of Shrouds eventually cut down the Cave-Shaman in a cloud of hallucinogenic spores.





The Heralds of Nagash closed in on the remaining Rotmoons from all sides, soon Dudoso and Hammerhead were taken down, leaving Trollumbus the troggoth alone.



The troggoth realised that it was hopeless and he lumbered off into the darkness, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, terrified he was being pursued.

~ 🕱 ~

Meanwhile, in another part of the Harrowmark... Kalyustar and the Kharadron Raidho Othalas met to settle their grievances!

~ 🕱 ~

The inn door burst open, wind and rain poured in. Lightning flashed and silhouetted Bolet Ghosteater in the doorway. Thunder rolled over the forests and hills around Wortbad and he stomped into the bar, slamming the door behind him. Satisfied that he had recovered his dramatic advantage and made a suitable entrance at last, the Cave-Shaman smiled inwardly and waited for a moment before lifting his head. Rainwater scattered across the floor from his soaked filthy robes and ran from the huge umbrella-like mushroom that grew from his skull. With a flourish of his hand he pronounced...

"Behold! I am... ahhhh, Zoggit!"

He slumped in disappointment once more as he realised the inn was empty.

~ 🕱 ~