Hey everyone, hope you're doing well this (American) Thanksgiving Weekend! So, I'm pretty stoked about the White Dwarf Narrative Campaign and am participating in it. I'm real excited because you don't necessarily have to play games to contribute, you can also paint models and write stories (like how Animosity Campaigns does if anyone has participated in those). So this thread will be to share the short stories i write for my army during the Campaign. My army for this event are my Fyreslayers which I bought over 3 years ago and never touched other than the magmadroth for a kitbash. Delving a bit more into the Fyreslayer lore I'm really getting into it more and the models are real fun to paint (check out my paint blog to see my finished Runefather and OC for my short stories). The first story that takes place during phase 1 surrounds my Runefather Vidar-Grimnir and what is not only a tale of exploration, exploits, and battle but also a story of a dude looking for a new companion after his Magmadroth has been slain. Going to Slidecrown Isle the Runefather hopes to uncover an ancient flame which is said to have landed deep within the isle and holds a possible unknown spawn of the Ur-Salamander. I hope you enjoy the stories and yeah! Let me know also if you're participating because I'd love to know!
Short Story: Slidecrown Ise Part 1, The Landing & Keeping of the Forest (For the Preservation side, playing as Rogue faction). It had been several days of travel for Vidar-Grimnir and his host of Fyreslayers via a coastal allies steamer boat from Invidia. The Runefather long ago entered into agreement with the human settlement for use of boats, in return the magmahold would give its protection. The destination was Slidecrown Isle in Veridia, word had reached the Runefather of the Isle and both the legends which surrounded it and the perilous predicament it and it’s inhabitants now faced. The Runefather didn’t like to travel on boats and was eager to make landfall. In fact, Vidar would rather be in an alehouse with no ale accompanied by a Lumineth Loreseeker bent on telling endless tales than stuck on a boat. However, the time gained was not something the duardin could scoff at nor the amount of Nurgle’s faithful and other dangers they would avoid. The Runefather knew that there would be no reinforcements, and the number with him not that of a grand army that he would normally have at his back, so every life and death counted especially. The boat travel did however have a benefit to it, it did keep the Runefather’s mind off of his recently fallen Magmadroth, mostly. To Vidar-Grimnir this journey wasn’t just about the search for new sources of Ur-Gold, test new innovations of war, or even to appease his fellow vulkyn flameseekers, to Vidar this journey was about finding a new companion. One tale in particular the Runefather had been told sparked his search upon the isle was of a flame from long ago that had landed deep within the Isle. This flame was said to have been bright like a star and rumored to have been an essence of Vulcantrix after the Godbeasts fight with Grimnir, and Vidar would find it. It was where this flame fell that the Runefather believed he would find a worthy companion wrapped in flame. In what form it wold take he could not be sure, as there had been proof of different offspring of the Ur-Salamander being found across the realms. It was this that in large part drove the Runefathers mindset on the task at hand and the oath made: The Isle should be protected from obliteration, but that did not mean he or his kin could not take which would benefit them within reason. The journey so far was relatively peaceful, though the smell, akin of being trapped in Hammerhals sewage system ,of where the sea had been infected by Nurgle’s rot brought many stomachs to a churn. For miles the water would be idyllic and of a pure aqua blue, and without warning there would come a dark green-brown sludge, as if seeking out the pure water and travelers alike to overtake them. The Fyreslayer’s human escorts had chosen a secluded path along the sea and there had only been small raiding parties to contend with. The raiding parties that were not scared off by volleys of dawner musket with limited cannon fire and continued forward were engulfed by flames or skwered and sank via the duardin’s new weapon of war, the Vulcatrix Cannon. Even with the distractions of battle, late night crew brawls (or as the humans called it, “training” or “team building”), and drunken tales told Vidar kept thinking about what may lie ahead of them upon the Slidecrown Isle. It wouldn’t be long now before he and his warband would find out, or so he hoped. The call of land came in the early morning as Hysh’s light began to shine upon the ship that carried the fyreslayers to their destination. From high above where the Runefather sat a dawner called out with excitement and pointing to the starboard side. Ahead of him Vidar-Grimnir saw white sand beaches with large dunes leading to rocky bluffs and a lush forest of white birch, Ironwood, White cedars, red cedar trees and others. The captain of the vessel came to the bow of the ship and took out a monocular and looked out to the isle. Searching for a proper landing site and soon found what he was looking for, the captain let out a command and pointed where to land and make a beachhead. “Runefather, err, sir, take my glass and look northwest”, the captain says while handing the monocular to Vidar-Grimnir and then he points towards a bluff, “Do you see the path going up the bluff? That is where you will enter the forest, and the only way up for miles from what I can tell”. Vidar takes the glass and looks and finds the bluff and the path which is carved into it, “Seem it’ll be a steep one that one, but no fuss lad”, the Runefather lets out a smile while handing back the monocular to the Captain, “The start of a good adventure always begins with a good climb” Vidar nudges the captain and then gives out a bellow of a laugh before returning to his kin to make ready. It took the ship some time to get into position, the approach to the coastline proving to be more treacherous the closer they got, many sandbars nearly marooning them. Vidar took this time to continue to draw a map of their approach and the coast line, a skilled cartographer, the Runefather wanted to make sure a proper duardin map was made of the isle. It wasn’t long once past the sandbars did the ship's crew begin to make ready the first landing boats. A few of the sailors would help bring the boats to shore, but it would be the Fyreslayers which would be first upon the beach and secure it. Soon they were in the water with the crew rowing hard to land. The boat which held the Vulcantrix Cannon fell behind due to the weight of the engine and nearly capsized when hit by larger waves. It took time but all the boats reached the beach, though many of the duardin now shared Vidar-Grimnir’s adverse feelings about boat travel. Upon the beach the group of sailors started to set up the camp while a few others began to row back to get supplies and more of the crew. Vidar-Grimnir and his kin looked about the beach, feeling the sand inbetween their toes as their feet sank with every step. Scanning the bluffs infront of them the Runefather saw the path up which the captain had shown him. Though it was steep it was the only way up to the forest beyond. Although this was good for the camp, as any enemy coming would easily be seen, it did mean that those climbing would not know whats at the top until the reached it. Leaving a group of Bezerkers behind Vidar-Grimnir was followed by a Battlesmith, Runesmiter, and the rest of his force as they made their way up the steep incline to the forest beyond. The forest lay not far from where the path opened up onto flat surface, grasses and other vegetation met the naked feet of the fyreslayers where once sand and rugged dirt had. The Warband saw no signs of disturbance of the surrounding area, and so gave a sign back to the camp below that they would venture forth and send word of what they find. Below the camp was bustling with life as fires were lit and makeshift palisades were erected until a forward camp could be made. Behind the group of fyreslayers smoke slowly rose as the campfires grew larger until finally the trees of the forest removed any sign of the camp from view. Soon all that could be seen was green canopy and thousands of colorful wildflowers which littered the forest floor, the aroma of the flowers sweet and nearly intoxicating. Though with beauty danger too lurked, and sometimes in plain sight. One duardin found this out as their arm began to swell after brushing up against a red leaved vine, another grabbed by the ankle and dragged deep into the forest by a carinvourous plant with whipping vines as arms, though the duardin hacked her way out of its grasp before being consumed. As the group of duardin walked they made note of fallen trees that could be harvested later, large sprawling thickets of juneberries, strawberries, brambles, and precious leaves that have fallen to the ground which are highly sought after; all natural treasures in their own ways. Coming to the Isle could prove to be lucrative, Vidar thought to himself, If we survive the trials ahead, as the thought came so came with it a sense of sudden unease which until now had not been present. As they walked Vidar-Grimnir couldn’t help but to feel eyes fixated on him, an unease had taken over not just him but even the forest around them seemed to become reclusive and retreat into itself. The Runefather did not stop his pace but as he walked he made signs with his hands which were sent down the line. Within moments the line of duardin had shifted into a more defensive one, berzerkers with shields began forming a shell along the outside of the line. Continuing on the Fyreslayers kept silent and watched for any sign of movement, Vidar-Grimnir leading them, his eyes scanning for anything of miss - and then there it was. The Runefather held up a fist and immediately the line came to a halt. Vidar slowly walked forward, great axe in hand, towards a large leaf that sprouted from a bush infront of them. Coming to it an odor began to overtake the duardins nose which came from a slimy substance covering the leaf. The slime had traces of blood visible in it and it didn’t take long before Vidar-Grimnir realized what it was, the duardins blood began to boil and under his breath the word ‘beastkin’ could be heard. In the seconds it took for the word to escape the Runefathers mouth did a giant Doombull charge out from the brush, knocking the Runefather to the ground temporarily. Seizing the moment takes a mighty strike at the Runefather, but the blade misses as Vidar rolls out of the way. As the personal battle rages more of its kin burst forth from the forest like maggots from a wound; a shaman already spewing curses and hatred in their foul tongue. In a moment Vidar was back onto his feet and let out a powerful warcry, and let out a powerful swing with his axe which was met with the heated hyshian crystals that made the blade of his adversaries weapon. The Doombull which charged Vidar-Grimnir wore an ornate mask of stone in the shape of a majestic bovine, the Runefather immediately recognized it as of Lumineth design. It also sported the shields of the light aalves pikemen as shoulder armor. It was not just the armor that differienitated it from its other kin which charged with keen coordination from the undergrowth of the forest. It was far larger than the other bullgors, it had shaggy fur like a muskox, and also fought with intelligence and rather than just brute savagery. Each swing of the Doombull carried the weight of a rhinoceros charge, each swing was deflected by the Runefather as Vidar stayed on the defensive waiting for an opening. Vidar had heard of the Stonehorn Tribe brayherd of Hysh, though what they did in Ghyran on this Isle baffled him. All around the two fighting was carnage as Bullgors clashed with Auric Hearthguard, Vulkyn Flamekeepers and Vulkite Bezerkers supported by a Vulcantrix cannon charged into packs of Gor and Ungor. The fighting was fierce, but with the Runefathers sharp observations and quick action his kin had lost no lives thus far while cleaving and roasting in holy flame the Beasts of Chaoses number. It was then that a terrible crashing came through the trees, the shaman which had been using its magics to bolster it’s allies gave out a loud call. In turn the rest of the beastkin answered and excitement rushed through their ranks and a new found fervour. The crashing got louder and still louder, until finally a large deep bellow came from the forest which echoed, making it hard to determine where it came from. In a thundering of fallen trees a behemoth bursts forth, a variation of a Ghorgon but the head the likeness of a mammoth. The creature like none the Runefather had seen before gave out a loud trumpeting from its trunk, moments after picking up and tossing a large branch towards a kyndledroth. Vidar-Grimnir let out a stream of curses before deflecting a blow from the doombull which he had been battling and rammed the butt of his great axe into its mask, knocking it down long enough for his Auric Hearthguard to cover the Runefathers path to his new target. The creature was now crashing through a line of Vulkite Bezerkers, their bodies being thrown without thought as the creatures giant tusks crashed into them. A loud eruption goes off, for an instant causing all nearby to hold their ears, as a Wyrmslayer Javelin launched from the Vulcantrix Cannon towards the Ghorgon. The Ghorgon with its quick reflexes and higher than normal intelligence deflects the javelin with its two-handed axe before eyeing its new quarry. The Vulcantrix Cannon crew hurries to load another javelin with the mammoth creature now charging headlong towards them. Rushing forth Vidar-Grimnir raises his axe and jumps onto a large fallen tree, he then gets inrange and throws one of his throwing axes at the beast, scoring a hit in its side. The Ghorgon stops abruptly and gives out an irritable noise, the axe had penetrated its thick fur but hardly its flesh. Turning its attention to the Runefather Vidar then screams a challenge at the beast, grasping his great axe in both hands and raises it above his head, the beast charges. As the creature closes in Vidar-Grimnir steps back a few paces before bursting into a sprint, and at the last moment launching himself into the air, axe high above him. The Ghorgon too raises an arm, one with a wristblade ready to pierce through the Runefather. Vidar’s axe blade comes down with such momentum that it not only deflects the blade but also forces it downwards that it nearly pierces the beasts thigh. Landing on one of the large tusks Vidar hangs on before dodging the ghorgons trunk which tries to grab and squeeze him. Back on the ground Vidar slashes at the beasts ankle missing his mark as the monster lifts its leg up in time, and stomps in retaliation, barely missing in turn. The two fight for what seems hours, ungors occasionally pouring in only to be cleaved by Vidar or mistakenly stomped or swept away by swaying tusks of the angry ghorgon. It was in one such swarm that the mammoth beast found an opening and grabbed the Runefather in its large hands. Squeezing Vidar so tight the Runefather thought his bone might break in moments, but salvation came with the sound of a screaming Javelin as a Vulcantrix Cannon shot off a true shot. The Javeling pierced the ghorgons large bicep, immediately causing it to release the Runefather. Gasping for air Vidar-Grimnir looked up in a fiery rage, and leapt back into battle and dodged incoming attacks from the beasts double wrist stone flail, then striking it in another arm with his great axe. The battle began to turn, the creature started to become filled with fear as the Runefather become increasingly belligerent in his attack. In the fury of his attack Vidar-Grimnir nearly lost himself, his great axe finding its mark time and time again. The ghorgon not able to maintain its defense against the fury before it found its own rage and began to strike back, each now having to play the defensive. In the carnage the Runefather was able to hear the warning call of impending inferno, “Clear the Way! Flame incomin’!”, as the Vulcantrix Cannon took aim at the creature. Leaping to the side Vidar looks back to see a torrent of flame engulfing the ghorgon, the thick fur filling the air with a lung choking aroma that mixed with the sweetness of trampled flowers. It screams in agony and terror as it turns and runs back into the forest, lighting many of its kind on fire in the process. At that moment the rest of the beastkin broke, what was a bloody battle was now a route and there would be no mercy for those that did not get away quickly. The shaman cast one last spell, stranglethorn erupted from the forest floor, the only thing to slow the onslaught of the rest of their kin. The mop up of the beastkin was quick, most retreated quickly after the mammoth ghorgon ran into the forest, some stubborn or bloodcrazed bullgors did not fair as well. Taking note of his kin the Runefather saw broken bodies upon the forest floor, though thankfully not as many as there could have been; the beastkin did not fair as well. A reprieve was needed, but not here thought Vidar. The fyreslayers carried their dead back to a new camp which had been erected atop the bluff they had climbed, arriving just before nightfall. Later that night the dead were layed upon raised up beds of wood, all living lined up in honor of the dead as Kyndledroth’s lit the funeral beds of the fallen. The beach was lit up and if a vessel had passed would have been able to see it for miles out to sea. The first day upon the Slidecrown Isle had costed the the war host lives, but this was inevitable and in the morning they would strike out again. At least the foe had tasted a far larger loss and the forest had been protected, just as the Runefather had sworn. Leaving behind the few wounded to be cared for the Runefather and the remaining number of his warband set back out into the forest again. When rested those that could would return to the Runefather, until then Vidar considered themselves lucky to have most of what he arrived with after the ambush. Eyes always sharp looking for anything amiss as they entered the forest once again, the army of duardin now knew what may lurk in the undergrowth. An hour in and the Fyreslayers had made good time, and found themselves upon a river and sandy dunes and banks that cradled it. The water was fresh and seemed to rejuvenate not just the body but ones weary mind as well. It was here they would make their first camp, above the gentle ripple of the river where for a brief moment Vidar-Grimnir found peace from his thoughts. In the morning they would contine on and explore, exploit, and protect the forest, but tonight he would sleep, dream, and snore like a bear during hibernation.