Sunday, 9 December 2012

The unstoppable Maw Feeders


Something was amiss in the badlands…
The tribe had travelled these paths before yet never had they been accosted by so many hostile factions. The followers of Chaos, The men of the Empire, and Elves both Dark and Fae had challenged the Maw Feeders over the past fortnight. Challenged however may be a strong word as each were swept away in the tide of the Maw Feeders’ charge.
The Iron Teeth were drunk on the sensation of their own invincibility, never broken, never defeated, they chanted old Ironguts fighting songs as they continued on their long march. One Irongut, by the name of Snaggletooth, had shown himself to be louder, stronger and more vicious than the others and would now champion the Iron Teeth in their next engagement.
The same invulnerability could not be ascribed to the Ogres of The Stampede. One would never say it to their faces but on occasion, fear was visible in the eyes of these behemoths. It was as if every bolt, arrow and lance had been aimed squarely at them over the past weeks and rarely had they made it through a battle free of injury. They had been sucked into the Chaos wastes and it had taken days of pummeling Demons into submission before anyone let them out. The greatest insult however was the unfortunate crippling of a Mournfang after tripping on an exposed root!
Near the beginning of their third week in the Badlands, Halal smelled a familiar aroma on the breeze and the Maw Feeders went to investigate. Cresting a rocky outcrop they beheld a small group of their Ogre brethren roasting a Rhinox haunch over a fire pit. Amiable enough at first, these new Ogres began to resist as Halal informed them that they would henceforth be under his command. Their rebellion however was short lived thanks to a mighty hammer blow from Snaggletooth crushing their leader’s skull while he was still buckling on his gut-plate.
Halal slept well that night, dreaming of slaughters past and of those still to come. And in his dreams the voice came to him once more. “You have feasted well these weeks Butcher, and through you, so have I. Consider this a small token of my appreciation”. He woke hungrier than ever, with the taste of blood in his mouth and full of a power so great that his next enemies would pale and quake before him…

No comments:

Post a Comment