Lorn had never considered himself a coward. When he first discovered his gift
for magic, he proudly walked up to the Collegiate arcane. He remembered staring
up to the headmaster and proclaiming how he would tear apart the enemies of Sigmar
off the very winds of magic at his command. The headmaster nodded knowingly,
used to the arrogance of youth. As he grew it, came as no surprise to him that
he excelled in pyromancy. The magics of the winds of fire called to him and made
him believe he was invincible. He imagined himself burning corrupted
monsters of chaos and laying low the beastial forces of destruction. When
he came of age and completed his initial assessments, he demanded to immediately
be sent out to the field. To finally have his gifts be used as they should. As
Sigmar willed it. Despite his youth, the war council agreed. Assured that his
natural gift for spellcraft would compensate for his lack of experience. He
was tasked with accompanying a force of freeguild patrolling a wooded section
of Aqshy. The ash trees there a valuable commodity in a realm lacking
abundance of forests. When he arrived after traveling through several realmgates,
he joined in march proudly with the freeguild. Hoping every day to fight
a worthy enemy and unleash his fire upon them. And, every day the forest was quiet
and peaceful. As the men and women of the Freeguild thanked the stars for the lack
of action, the young battle mage prayed to Sigmar to send something for him to
burn. He was on the second day of the third week that he received his wish. A
horn bellowed across the air as the freeguild were performing combat drills in
the middle of the day. The deep and disturbing sound seemed to give the very
air of malignant presence. From the surrounding trees came the
sound of hooves crashing through the brush, followed quickly by the beasts of
chaos those sounds belong too. A war herd. Muscle-bound horn monster screamed out
with a blood of their enemies. Their eyes colored red with blood greed. The
insatiable urge for flesh that turned these creatures into raging berserkers.
An urge that could only be satisfied by taking out the ill prepared humans before
them. While most around him felt fear, Lorn felt joy. Now was his moment. Now
was his chance to show the Freeguild the power he would give for Sigmar. As he
raised up his hands to unleash fire upon the beasts, a giant creature stepped
through the trees and made Lorn's heart stop. It was a Cygor. A massive bull
creature with one cyclopean blind eye. A white twitchy orb that was staring
directly at him. Lorn knew of cygors. Effectively blind, their sight only
allowed them to see powerful sources of magic. like, for example, a young and eager
battle mage bursting with energy. Frozen in fear, Lorn realized too late as that
same cygor flung a giant rune covered boulder in his direction.
Lorn ran into the freeguild forces behind him. Shoving past gunners trying
to acquire shots as he heard the whistle the Cygors boulder coming closer. He
barely made it before the boulder crashed down, crushing his soldiers
underneath it into a wet meaty paste. Shocking the rest of the Freeguild in the
army. Before the freeguild could rally, the Warherd was upon them. Gunners tried
to aim but the shock of the assault threw them off. Any shots that hit barely
slowed the creatures down as they continued slaughtering all around them.
Bullgore's went to greatsword companies, chopping those soldiers in
half with giant axes and, in some cases, ripping off arms and legs with their
bare hands. The officer in command tried to rally those under him, yelling out
unheeded commands into the air. All it did was attract a Doombull. The war
leader of this warherd, it was clad in battered armor and had the skulls of
various races on ropes across its body. To his credit, the officer did not back
down. He raised up his sword arm and began to speak, the first words of a
challenge on his lips. The doom bull didn't let him finish. Not even bothering
to use his axe, the doom bull simply kicked the man, toppling him on the
ground and making him spit out a torrent of blood. Before the officer could get
back up, the doom bull began stomping on him. Raising his hoof into the air before
bringing it down over and over again. At that point, Lorn had already fled into
the forest, hearing the screams of those he was sworn to protect lessen behind
him as he moved further away. Several hours later, as night approached, Lorn
finally decided to sit down. He was exhausted. He had traveled as far as he
could from the massacre that had happened behind him. As he laid his head
on his hands and wondered what he would do next,
he heard familiar hoofs steps behind him. The hoofsteps of a monster that had
chased him down despite the easier pickings in the previous battlefield.
Through the trees walked the Cygor. It's cyclopean eye still staring, once
again, at Lorn. Lorn was too tired to run and even he had the energy, he knew
he would not. He had failed those under his command and worse, he had shamed
himself in the eyes of his god. Sigmar. He would end this creature here and
enact penance by destroying the warherd after. Raising his hands, he unleashed a
firestorm. Every iota of power within him was unleashed on the cygor. All his
rage and shame and pain coalescing into a flame that burned brighter than any
fire he had ever made before. This torrent of burning emotion continued
until the Cygors hand passed through it and grasped lorn around his
waist. Trapping his arms in the process. Screaming out in pain, he felt his insides
insides being crushed as the beast massive fists began to squeeze. Breaking bones
and rupturing his organs. A wave of pain that mercifully ended, when the Cygor
replaced a former battle mage into its maw
and began to chew. Consuming his flesh and feasting on his soul.
Beasts and monsters, the creatures of the warherds have one overriding urge, to
feast on the flesh of their enemies. This urge, known as bloodgreed, lead them to
travel the realms in search of new flesh. Always willing to fight for new bodies
to consume. An urge abused by the chaotic champions they encounter. More than
willing to use the brutal chaotic creatures as shock troops in their own
wars. A use the warherds have no problem with, as it will simply mean more flesh
to consume. At the height of this blood greed, when the war herd sees the enemy
in front of them, all of its members see nothing before them but their next meal.
Pain becomes a useless sensation and fear is an emotion that becomes foreign to
their psyche. All that is left is to fill their need for battle and to rip off the
flesh of their enemies corpses. The largest of the bullGore's, The doom
bulls are the main leaders of any war herd. Although it doesn't lead through
charisma or even the less subtle posturings of the orruks. It leads through
instinct, calling his horde like an alpha predator leading his forces to prey.
Charging from the front to be the first a rip apart his enemies with his giant
weapons or massive horns. Below the doom bull are the bull Gore's. The main bulk
of the war herd forces, they're each massive beasts of muscle and hunger.
Always willing to follow their doombull to their next meal. It is said that while
most large bullgors become doombulls and take up the mantle of leadership
amongst its kin, a rare few have an even deeper connection to their blood greed.
Mad with Bestial hunger, they feast on their lesser Kin in an orgy of
violence that ends a tribe but births a monster. This bulgor becomes a Ghorgon. The
consumed flesh of his kin turning into a massive beast of war. Multi-armed larger
and more powerful than any bullgor and only controlled by its hunger. Willing to
eat anything, including its own war herd brethren, to sate it.
As large as the Gorgon, but after a very different prey, are the Cygors. Cursed
to blindness when it comes to mundane sights, they could only see the magic
that flows in the very air. A state that inevitably drives them mad as the demons
of chaos constantly flicker in and out of its senses. Both to cause it pain but
also to lead it towards areas that would suit their own dark purposes. Such
sight also allows it to see mages like bright beacons in a sea of darkness.
Unleashing a hunger in them that nothing can stop. Crashing into obstacles they
can't see to get to its prey, it will stop at nothing to catch the magic user.
Once it catches an unlucky mage, it immediately devours him or her, eating
the flesh and consuming the poor mages soul. Trying to fill a magical hunger
that can never be sated. To be a member of the war herd is to be a beast of pure
rage and chaos. To rip apart your enemies with the wrath of a predator and consume
their flesh to fill an insatiable hunger. Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed the story
about the warherd, who in age of sigmar are just terrible terrible scary
powerful monsters. If you liked it, please consider subscribing, liking or
commenting and if you really really liked it, please consider joining my
patreon. With the extra money, it helps give me the time I need to work on these
writing projects of mine that I'd love to do. Anyway, thanks for listening and
see you next time.
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