Critical Failures in the Chaos Wastes

Crom Firebelly Vs Mokol the Blademonger

Crom

Dust flew and rubble followed at his feet as Crom charged down the craters edge. He saw the beastmen scatter trying to flank him, Crom cared not! All focus was on the warrior of chaos before him. As he reached peak momentum he leaped high into the air, bellowing with rage. Shocked momentarily by Croms sheer boldness, Mokol faltered. The massive bulk of Crom crashed into him with a sickening thud, bowling the chaos warrior off his feet.

Now standing tall above his foe (well tall for a dwarf), Crom took a mighty breath. The infernal flames gathered in his gut and he let forth a torrent of flame. Spewing out from his mouth the white hot magical flames covered Mokol in fiery doom. His screams of agony could be heard throughout the chaos wastelands as his skin blistered and his blood boiled. Satisfied that the warrior would be incapacitated, he wiped his mouth and with an evil grin, turned his attention to the beastmen who had been taking pot shots with arrows, each arrow that hit only enraging Crom more.

Grabbing his weapon in one hand and picking up Dungnabs with the other he unleashed a whirlwind of blows, slashes left and right he carved his way through the beastmens flesh. Already shaken from watching their master flash cooked, didn’t take long for them to flee with Mokols charred body, in an attempt to carry him away and tend to his wounds.
Crom began to chase after them, to finish what was started but a thick, heavy mist rose up from the cracks in the parched earth, as he got closer to Mokol the mist got thicker, physically restraining him from giving chase. Crom looked up and cursed the sky, this was clearly Slaanesh giving his champion a second chance at life. His bloodlust would have to be satisfied another day. With a grunt, he turned around and walked away.

Dungnab looked up at his boss with wide eyes as he walked back towards him, Crom sighed and threw Dungnabs weapon at him, landing between his legs cutting his bindings. Just as he got back to his feet he was sent straight back to the ground with a mighty head butt and a scowl. He wouldn’t make the mistake of being captured again.

Mokol

Mokol waited at the crater. All was ready: The beastmen understood the plan(at least, they gave the appearance of knowing the plan), the orc was behaving like a good captive, begging to be rescued. All to do now was wait. And he did not have long, for within a matter of minutes, Krom came over the lip of the pock-marked earth.

“Well, it seems you can follow directions after all. Would you like a glass of this wine? I put some poison in it, I heard that you like that sort of thing.” With this, Krom walked over the lip of the crater. Mokol smiled, and continued. “Good. Would you care to start begging for this one’s life?” he said as he gestured towards Dungnab. At this, Krom broke into a run.

“Well, there’s no rush-” was all Mokol could get before, with a supernatural burst of speed, Krom ran right over the chair set out for him and slammed his shoulder into Mokol’s stomach. The pain was excruciatingly delightful, but even so, it stunned Mokol. “Well…it seems our discussion won’t be as long as…wait, what’s that smell?”

And then he was on fire. Mokol had to admit that this was an event he did not give a very large chance of happening.

AAAAAAAHHAHAHHAOAOAOAHHAHTOHOTOHHTOOHOT!” His intestines were on fire. His skin began welting and blistering. Mokol was at a loss for what to do. He had great experience at fighting the mundane (if a half-man, half-rat could be considered mundane), but a super-speedy dwarf that breathed fire was a new twist for him. As the flames ceased, Mokol was in too much pain to move. It was at this point that the beastmen actually took the two firing brain cells in their heads and smashed them together hard enough to improvise. As Krom stood over Mokol, readying the final blow, the beastmen swooped in and picked up the dwarf, minding his hands of course, and began carrying him to safety. Their hind legs moved even faster than normal, as if lent the speed of another entity. Then, with his last vestige of consciousness, he turned back to the site of his defeat, and saw a most inspiring sight.

He saw the most grotesque woman he had ever seen. Purple skin, insectoid eyes, many flailing appendages in the shape of tentacles emerging from her sides. She also had eight breasts that covered her abdominal muscles. She stabbed Dungnab in the side, and then turned to face the retreating dwarf.

“…Do you want to live forever? If so, this was a poor start.”

And then she vanished, and Mokol slipped into unconsciousness soon after.

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