Croms past involved wandering from hold to hold offering his services to the highest bidder. It was said that no Dwarf could match him in combat, and his unrelenting fury made all but the strongest willed flee before him. While passing through the deadly underground lava pits of his homeland he was disrupted by a deafening crack. The ground was torn asunder and a snarling magma drake clawed its way to the surface.
The beast stood on its hind legs, standing 15 feet tall, roaring with all its might. Its deep red scales dripping with lava. It looked at Crom with hungry eyes.

Crom stood fast, “make a meal of me will you” he growled grabbing his axe. He flung himself at the beast and for hours they fought, deep gashes being carved out of his flesh, his blood hitting the red hot ground in a sizzling splash. Eventually he dazed the beast with a slash to its eyes and drove his axe through its iron hard skull.

Victorious and exhausted, he laughed, a crazed and insane laugh. In his battle fevered delirium he began to eat the beast. His lips burning with every mouthful, his gut boiling with scolding flesh, yet he did not stop. He consumed the beast in its entirety.
Satisfied with his meal and overcome with fatigue he drifted into a deep sleep.
A dark voice spoke to him, “I have been watching you Crom. Accept my gifts, be my chosen and you shall never lack combat, my brothers will see to that”.

Before he could answer the voice, Crom felt the overwhelming power of the entity pour over him. The flesh he consumed, it was coming together, binding inside him. He awoke, flames bursting from his mouth. His wounds, healed. His frame, larger with dark red scales running down his neck. His gut now extended, bloated from the heat generated by his new found power. Crom clenched his fist and smiled.

Compelled, he headed directly towards the Chaos Wastes. Just on the outskirts he came across a minor Orc tribe, desperate to test his new power he walked through the camp slashing this way and that. Heads rolled, limbs were severed and bodies torn asunder. He made his way to the Orc chieftain, incinerating his rag tag body guards in one mighty breath and flooring the broad Orc boss, Dungnab, with a single almighty head butt. Looking around the camp was aflame and in ruins.

With a wicked grin Crom completed his journey to the chaos wastelands to see how much more power he could take for himself.
The Orc boss, with no other option followed Crom, at a safe distance. Crom tolerated Dungnab, to Crom he was nothing more then a moth following a flame.

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The Journey of Crom: Crom Firebelly, warrior of legend, champion of Nurgle, tamer of hellfire. Within these damned pages lay the exploits of Crom so his story may be told as a warning to others.

Act 1: Dungnabs Capture, Croms Wrath

The following recounts the events following the capture of Dungnab, Croms orc slave, and the bloody battle to punish those that think they can steal from 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.