Battle 4 Story: The Drowner's Last Supper

In the gloom of the yurt Drowner sat and gnawed noisily on something that could easily have been mistaken for the haunch of a goat. A slight breeze rustled the canvas walls and set the various bunches of dried herbs, bone charms and other wardings that dangled from the roof beams into motion. Drowner looked up and sniffed the air something was coming, something familiar.

“’Ello Intef me old boney” he grunted, “Wadda you want?”

The breeze picked up dragging whirling particles of dust and sand into the yurt in unnatural numbers, they hung in the air for a while before coalescing into the image of Intef the Inpure Thrice Cursed of Sobek. “Drowner” he rasped “A host of High Elves moves to make landing on the river but a stones throw from this very hovel. The concept of their presence here displeases me and I doubt they will have any time for whatever mischief you are currently engaged in. I come offering an alliance as of old between your forces and mine to…. encourage these Elves to put ashore somewhere more convenient to both of us.”

“No can do” Drowner snorted. “Most o’ me lads is out doing me gruesome business” and he chuckled nastily at the thought of whatever activity they were currently engaged in. Intef narrowed what passed for eyes at the quivering fleshly lump “What are you up to?” “Never you mind pointy, but I will tell you this, it’s the most cunning thing anyone has ever done, lets just leave it at that. I AM THE HEAD BEE KEEPER!” Drowner roared (which was his way of saying “I am the best” for Drowner greatly admired bee keepers as they have command over bees and can order them to sting whomever they please).

“A shame.” Intef turned as though to leave the tent. “Never mind, I guess Elves don’t taste very nice anyway…” there was a spluttering noise from behind him. “Hold up, there’s a few lads still around, more than enough to deal with a few skinnies, just let me find what I’ve done with me tenderiser”.

TeleMakater and Elemonkurd wheeled high above the battle field. From here on the backs of their winged steeds they could see clearly their forces struggling to embark the ships and make safe their landing against unexpected opposition. “We cannot sustain this much longer” TeleMakater called, “Either we must establish a hold on the landing site or we must retreat. We have lost too many already to those clouds of arrows and the hulls of my ships will not take much more pounding on the rocks of these shallows. The boats must pull away soon and that will leave us with no retreat for our forces. Also my insurance will not cover us for ships wrecked on a river passage as I only took out cover for the open sea.”

Elemonkurd knew his ally saw things clearly, the day must be won and quickly, he set his dragon into a dive for the thickest part of the fighting.

The dragon crashed down into a small copse in which a block of his spearmen advanced on a small but hardened looking group of ogres. At the centre of them a great flabbering mess of a creature commanded the forces around him and strengthened their resolve with winds of magic.

“You don’t scare me” Drowner yelled up at the dragon and its rider. “Ere look at this” he said pointing to the massive whiteish apron that was stretched tight over his vast gut. On it was scrawled “Champion Best Dragon Slayer”. “Is that supposed to mean something” Elemonkurd replied, “You’ve clearly written that yourself just now, in ketchup”. That shut Drowner up because it was true. Just then a wave of well timed Elven magic rolled across the copse sapping the strength from the ogres to a point where they could barely lift their armoured limbs, the spear block advanced and with the dragon at their backs the ogres were cut down with elegant efficiency.

Drowner himself lashed out one last time ripping limbs from a few unfortunates and stuffing them greedily into his ever hungry maw, but even his ferocity could not stop the spear blocks advance. With a final push he was overwhelmed and that was the end of the disgraceful creature.

“The day is won.” cried Elemonkurd, “Let go the ships we have our landing.” and trumpet blasts called out to the whole of Kislev that the High Elves had arrived.

On the opposite side of the field Intef shrugged and melted away into the shadows.


Luke_Passingham Luke_Passingham

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