Nathan Long - Warhammer Battle for Skull Pass

This is a dark age, a bloody age, an age of daemons and ofsorcery. It is an age of battle and death, and of the worlds ending. Amidst allof the fire, flame and fury it is a time, too, of mighty heroes, of bold deeds and great courage.

At the heart of the Old World sprawls the Empire, the largestand most powerful of the human realms. Known for its engineers, sorcerers, traders and soldiers, it is a land of great mountains, mighty rivers, dark forests and vast cities. And from his throne in Altdorf reigns the Emperor Karl Franz, sacred descendant of the founder of these lands, Sigmar, and wielder of his magical warhammer.

But these are far from civilised times. Across the length andbreadth of the Old World, from the knightly palaces of Bretonnia to ice-bound Kislev in the far north, come rumblings of war. In the towering Worlds Edge Mountains, the orc tribes are gathering for another assault. Bandits andrenegades harry the wild southern lands of the Border Princes. There are rumours of rat-things, the skaven, emerging from the sewers and swamps across the land. And from the northern wildernesses there is the ever-present threat of Chaos, of daemons and beastmen corrupted by the foul powers of the Dark Gods. As the time of battle draws ever nearer, the Empire needs heroes like never before.

Dagskar Earscrapper surveyed the carnage in the cave. There were dead CrookedMoon boys everywhere, bleeding on the cave floor, impaled on stalagmites, and bits and pieces of chopped-up ones tossed about like squig droppings. But that was all right, because there were twice as many dead Red Chin boys lying next to them. The surviving Crooked Moon boys were running about, looting the corpses and cutting the necks of any Red Chins who were still breathing, while cave squigs fed indiscriminately on the dead of both sides.

Dagskar turned to his leader, Big Boss Budgoz Three-Teeth, and grinned. Goodscrap, hey, boss? Showed dem Red Chins who da Crooked Moons are, didnt we?Calls for a drink, I think. He pulled a skin from his belt and held it out toBudgoz. Swig a toadstool brew?

Three-Teeth smiled, showing his three teeth, and shook his lumpy head. Yer agood boy, Earscrapper, smart in a fight and quick tlash yer lads into shape,but I trust ya as far as I can throw a big un. He lifted his own skin anduncorked it. Ill drink my own, thanks all the same.

Alright by me, said Dagskar as the two goblins drank deep, then wiped theirmouths on the crusty sleeves of their black robes. Coz I didnt poison mine.

Budgoz turned, frowning. Whaddaya mean by? But before he could finish thesentence he suddenly doubled up, groaning and retching. You double crossinlittle A convulsion interrupted him, and he heaved up a thick stream of blackvomit.

S what ya get for not trustin me, boss, said Dagskar, stepping back fromthe spreading pool.

Budgoz heaved again, his head turning an alarming shade of purple, and puked out his own intestines. They sloshed across the floor like sausages in black stew. He fell to his knees, then toppled face-first into the mess, dead as a rock.

Dagskar shook his head, clucking his tongue. Such a shame. Terrible,terrible. He stepped up onto Budgozs armoured back and turned to the horde ofgoblins that were gathering around him. A great victory, boys! he shouted.But I has some sad news. Our wise and powerful big boss Budgoz has accidentallydrunk some bad brew and aint expected trecover.

There was an ugly murmuring from some of the goblins.

Accidentally? said one, crossing his arms sceptically.

Aye, said Dagskar, lashing out with his whip and taking the goblins noseoff at the root with a deft twist. Accidentally. Just like dat.

The goblin fell back, howling and clutching his gouting nose stump as the others edged away, frightened.

Dagskar raised his whip and shook it at them. I is yer boss now, dyhear?And you is all my boys! Got that? Yer Dagskar Earscrappers boys, now!

All hail da new boss! shouted a cowering goblin.

The rest took up the cry. All hail da new boss!

Dagskar nodded, pleased, then smiled to himself. Now, he said under hisbreath. Now Skarsnik has gotta make me a big boss.

Another year, thought dwarf thane Godri Thunderbrand as he walked through theunfinished great hall and looked up at the arching ceiling. No more than two.

Emotions welled up in his broad, beard-buried chest as he thought of it. Soon the masons would smooth and polish the pillars. Soon the sculptors and goldsmiths would carve and gild the ancestor faces that ringed the roof. Soon the painters and weavers would cover the walls with the proud colours of Clan Byrnik and hang the heavy tapestries that told their long proud history. Soon this dusty, echoing hole in the side of Skull Pass would be a true dwarf hold.

By Grungnis hammer, Naragrim has done a magnificent job, said Godris sonAurik, a golden-bearded young dwarf warrior who walked beside him through the clutter of scaffolds and piles of cut stone. Truly, this is a hall fit for aking, a hall like those of the holds of old.

Rodrin, Godris bald, black-bearded younger brother and chief miner, chuckledand shook his head. It isnt that, beardling. Not that its bad, he said, witha quick look at Godri. Its a triumph, all things considered, but Karak EightPeaks in its daywell, there was nothing like it in the world.

Say what you will, brother, said Godri as he reached the centre of the halland turned in a slow circle to take it all in. To me it is the grandest hallever built, for it is mine. There were times when I thought it would never come. He sighed with a mixture of sadness and pride as he thought back to thefall of Karak Eight Peaks, when Clan Byrnik and all the other dwarf clans who had dwelled with King Lunn in the greatest of the dwarf holds had been forced to abandon it to the verminous invaders and seek shelter elsewhere.

King Lunns words to him then came back to him now as if he had heard themonly yesterday.

And you, Godri Thunderbrand, said King Lunn, looking down from atop hisshield as Godri knelt before him in the middle of the long train of refugee dwarfs who were marching away from the fallen karak. Where will you go? Haveyou kin in other holds that will welcome you?

Lord king, said Godri, looking up. We have kin, but we will not burdenthem. We will accept no charity and incur no debt. He could barely see the kingas he spoke. He was still half blind from the corrosive vapours that the skaven had pumped into the holds airshafts. His brother Rodrin lay on a cart alongwith many of the others of Clan Byrnik, laid low by the poison the ratmen had dumped into the wells. We will make our own way, first above ground, later in ahold of our own. The earthquakes that shook our homes, and the vermin that took advantage of that ruin, may have shattered the chain of holds that linked these mountains together, but we of Clan Byrnik vow to forge a new link that will one day join with others, old and new, to make us strong again.

The old king stroked his long white beard and nodded. Well said, GodriThunderbrand. You show the true strength of the dwarfs, which is not might of arm, nor keenness of axethough those be greatbut determination andtenacity. I hail you for it, and shall give you a token of my esteem.