Stopping the Bloodflow

From Journal of Kadrich

 Today was a good day. Zorrath spoke of a way to strengthen his bond with Khorne. A second ritual would be performed deep within the Iron Wood—a cursed forest of twisted, metal-barked trees. For it to succeed, we needed blood. Many sacrifices. Zorrath would begin the ritual while we gathered the skulls.

We found a village of Sigmar-worshipping fools hidden beneath the canopy. Their defenses were pathetic, little more than sharpened stakes and hollow prayers. Vorrkar butchered them in Khorne’s name, offering their blood to fuel the ritual. He claimed the slaughter had strengthened him—soon, he promised, he would summon even more daemons to fight at our side.

But before the ritual could be completed, the air grew heavy with the scent of ozone. There were no storm clouds, yet the sky above the Iron Wood crackled with unseen power. We knew what was coming. Sigmar’s warriors—the Stormcasts—had found us.

The first lightning bolt struck, and they descended upon us. By Khorne, it was a battle worthy of song. Vorrkar and his Bloodletters met their cavalry and giant armoured warriors in a clash of steel and fury, holding the left flank as Zorrath chanted prayers of slaughter for khorn. My warriors locked blades with their Paladins—unbreakable and relentless like the mountains themselves. Among them was a Knight, his strikes as fierce as a thunderstorm. He nearly broke our line before Vorrkar tore him down and claimed his skull for the golden Throne.

Then the battle shifted. Their sorcery was vile, and Vorrkar fell under its weight, his daemons banished in a flash of light. Their cavalry circled for a final charge, aiming to crush what remained of us.

Moranak stood tall, his voice booming through the trees as he challenged them. He drew their attention, holding them back long enough for us to rally. He shattered their charge and held the line alone until the weight of the battle brought him to his knees. Though he fell unconscious, we avenged him with swift and brutal vengeance, cutting down the last of their riders.

When the Stormcasts retreated, they stole some Emberstone from our ritual site. Thou It makes no difference. They were too late to stop us. The blood we spilled has ensured Zorrath’s ritual is complete. Soon, he will march with us once again.

Today was truly a good day.

Blackfame's Report II

At the hands of Commander Ven Brecht

My lord, our search for our lost brothers has taken us to other lands. This time, Brother Halrik's vision led us far to the north. His vision spoke of torrents of blood and a terrible demon rising from the crimson lakes. Sigmar does not send his omens without intent, and so we obeyed. Carried by the storm, we reached the forgotten land of Ironwood. The ruins of a fortress stood on a small hill, and an altar to the Ruinous Powers was built nearby. Soon it was clear why Halrik's vision had led us here...

The blood god's henchmen had plundered a settlement of lumbermen and pitchers to sacrifice its inhabitants. A red mist began to gather over the altar, from which the talons of all sorts of devilish creatures slowly stretched out. My lord, I called for a coordinated action, but to vain. Knight VraxVrax and his retinue rushed headlong at the savage, beastly heathens. I and my mage companions tried to close the rift in reality. I imprisoned the demonic herald in a cage made of living lightning storm, which gripped him more and more until he was completely helpless and finally entangled. Vrax, meanwhile, was having an unequal battle with the warchief and his guards. Steel clashed against steel until lightning rained down. Meanwhile, our men were taking the terrified foresters to the ruins of a nearby fortress. The chieftain, driven by bloodlust, finally cornered Vrax and his paladins and we could not help them. 

The ritual was disrupted, and all demons were banished from the material world. But it was my doing, not Vrax's. Therefore, I ask you, my lord, how can we be led by this madman, blinded by his desire for glory, if he lacks even the most basic strategic sense. I urge you, my lord, to remove knight Vrax from leadership while we still have time.

your loyal servant

Morvak Blackflame