The Battle of the Wandering Plague
Deep beneath the ground of Athel Loren, the Skaven were busy in creating their plans for the final apocalypse. Busy digging their tunnels, Grey Seer Monrisey, watched in deliberation, as his warriors kept digging. This was a day for animosity. No Skaven had ever been able to capture the Wood Elf Realm of Athel Loren. He was determined to change that. He had read the history of the world, as told through Skaven eyes, still remembering about the day he stumbled upon a perfect idea. Like the Orcs long before him tried to do, he would succeed where they had not.
Isthanful awoke suddenly with a start as he heard a flock of birds come screeching out of the woods, shattering the silence with a start. Although Isthanful should have relayed to another post, he went on with out worrying anything. Birds could have been startled by anything.
Monrisey slashes at a nearby digger for the accident of the birds. Listening with his sensitive Skaven ears, and smelling the air with his nostrils, he waited for the call. But there was nothing. Impetuous and stupid thought Monrisey. They would pay for their over confidence. He ordered his men to keep digging.
Falmonsey was worried. The King and Queen of the Woods had been put into the winter hibernation, waiting to be born next spring. Although he said nothing, Falmonsey did not tell the council about his dream of the fall of Athel Loren. After all he was no psychic. Although now since the rulers of the Wood Elf Realm were now not at the disposal in case of an emergency. No one was worried. The Wood Elves had gotten through centuries of winters without tragedy. But this year Falmonsey was worried. The reason for why he would not share his dream, is because, as he thought, who ever heard of a Wardancer being scared?
Isthanful was not worried about anything. He was quietly resting and trying to diligent at the same time. Well, frankly, it wasn’t working, he was more tired than diligent. Although he was not concerned. He would know if there was a problem. Suddenly he heard a rustle. Waking up fully, he strained his ears to hear the minute noise.
Monrisey was so close to the fruition of his plan. He was near the surface. He would not make the same mistakes of his brethren. Coming to the surface, he strained his ears listening to see if he was alone. The forest was dark, although by the pinpricks of light he saw he could tell that they were near the heathlands. Hearing a presence he brought out his most trusted units, and also the most feared. His assassins.
Isthanful could hear nothing now. Is must have been an animal or something, keeping alert in case it was a dangerous animal, he perched on his steed. Turning toward the forest he began to pluck his way through the foliage.
Monrisey’s assassins crept through the forest adhering to his nature of silence. He was certain that the figure he was tracing was on the heathlands.. if this elf followed his race’s nature, it would come to seek out the minute noise created when the tunnel was opened. He followed his sight and smell leading him ever onward toward the heart pulsing, rage lust of battle, and blood.
Isthanful was worried he kept repeating the sound in his mind, over and over, and it sounded unlike any animal he had ever heard. Is sounded like the sound of something breaking out of a hole. And if it was.. it could only mean one thing. Skaven. If it was, the whole realm was in grave danger.
The assassin Bloodlust, crept forward along with the others. He was so near. he could smell the elf, and the fear pulsating through his body. He could his heart beating faster and faster, giving Bloodlust, the thing which gave him his name. the lust for blood that was only subdued with battle. He was so close.
Isthanful crept through the trees trying to calm his fear. He was trying to be silent, but with fear came sloppiness. In battle was courageous, and honor worthy, but he was by himself, against an untold number of enemies...or were they just figments of his imagination? He could not be sure.
Bloodlust unsheathed his weapon again with the utmost extreme caution. He need silence. He got it. He was a master at this. He signaled the rest of his squad. He stopped raised his head, and turned toward the west.
Out of the bushes 7 Skaven assassins, came running at Isthanful, slashing with sword and throwing daggers. Most covered in poison. Isthanful tried his best, but could not beat 7, especially while in a surprise attack. He fought valiantly, turning away swords with his own, parrying their weapons with his, His armor cam in handy deflecting a few poison tipped daggers. He stabbed one of the vile ratmen in the chest, and then swiped another in the face. There were just too many for one Glade Rider. He was slashing another in the arm, when one of the poison daggers found their mark, scraped on the neck, he fought back the thrower. Remembering the saying “The more that hit you the more that will...” came true for this valiant elf. Sword after sword, and dagger after dagger began to cut scrape and wound Isthanful. He decided to run and warn the others. Bleeding profusely, he turned his steed, also cut and bleeding, away to the east. His strength draining from many wounds in his body, he tried to keep conscious. Mere meters away, from the next post, the friendly guard, said “What news from the east good frien--” and could not finish, because instantly, Isthanful fell to the ground...dead.
This Glade Rider, named Crojinion, could not believed he was staring at another of his kind dead. Shaking his head to relive the shock, he made way to the next post at top speed. He had to warn the forest of the intruders! Although that was the problem he did not know what was intruding. His face gri9m he reached the next post.
And so, eventually, the news reached the rest of the forest. There were intruders were invaded the Wood Elves sacred homeland. And there was already one casualty. Things were looking grim.
Deeper in the forest, the Wood Elf mages, were trying all their powers to stop the invasion. But these Skaven, they were sure they were Skaven, were different. They were very different...they seemed more powerful... the Skaven they had faced before were nothing like this... It seemed they had gotten powers from some source...As if...as if they were Skaven worshipping Chaos! But that was illogical. They had to find a way to destroy them.. truly they were at their mercy...
The Skaven plunged deeper into the murky depths of this virgin forest. They destroyed all they came upon. The first glade they came upon, was protected by it’s guards. They were hacked to pieces, and the glade was burned. The Groves of Yews, was destroyed utterly. They kept marching. Very few ratmen were killed through bowfire. Truly these warriors were unstoppable. Monrisey was very confident of victory. They had the Elves by surprise. Remembering the day they had made the deal with Chaos. They had promised these Dark Gods that the Elves would fall. Seeing the Forest of Loren as the most promisable target. Their ratmen would be unstoppable. They had marched by night and dug by day. When they had reached the forest they were certain of victory. They kept marching.
They found the beech glade. It was destroyed. All the elves could do was run. They thought they could handle this threat of the rat. But they couldn’t they were caught by surprise and these Skaven were powerful. The Elves met at the council glade. They needed a plan.
“ We must destroy this plague!!!” rang the shrill voice of Restagril the Chieftain of the Yew Groves, the first glade to be destroyed.
“But how do you propose to do that? These vile creatures are unstoppable!!” Yelled the chieftain of Beech glade.
“I have a way.” a young elf said softly. All eyes turned to him. His name was Rothiresey. He was one of the mage apprentices.
“What do you plan to do?” Asked Rotrenrir, chieftain of the Birch Glade.
“I plan to awaken Orion and Ariel.”
All eyes widened. “But that’s impossible!!!” Yelled the high priest of Isha. “They cannot be wakened in the winter!”
“Have you tried? Have any of you tried? No, you haven’t. This is a time of great need.”
“But it cannot be done!”
“Then this will be a first, won’t it?”
Grumbling could be heard throughout the glade. All eyes turned to each other. Whisperings of insanity flew throughout the trees.
The young Elf was determined to succeed. He told the other Elves of his plan. The other elves agreed, it was their last desperate hope.
The Elves rallied around the Oak of Ages. Glade Guards patrolled the clearing by the Hundreds. Warhawk Riders and Great Eagles circled high above. Archers took position around the clearing. Glade Riders rode around the edges. Scouts and Waywatchers patrolled the woods surrounding the old oak. Wardancers waited with impatience. Mages took their positions. All was quiet. Then a flock of crows erupted into the skies. The Skaven had heard of this colossal gathering. They were willing to stop it. All the Elves prayed to Isha and Kurnous They prayed for deliverance from evil. From the woods snaps could be heard along with cries of anger and pain. The traps were set! They were coming! All the Elves took their position. Erupting from the woods with squeaks and shouts. The Rats burst into the clearing. As the Elves raced toward the battle, the mages began their chant of awakening. The battle raged around them. They continued their chant. Glade guards impaled rats with their spears. Wardancers pranced around these evil creatures, slicing their throats and speared them like deer. Glade riders trampled the rats they had brung with their hooves. Great Eagles soared down onto the battle grabbing these rats with their talons and ripping to shreds. Warhawk rider impaled Stormvermin. But, no matter how many how many ratmen were killed 2 took it’s place. The Elves were losing the battle. Grey Seer Monrisey smiled and cackled as he destroyed another warhawk rider with his vile magics. Even the mages were losing hope even though they chanted as loud as they could. There was nothing happening.
Grey Seer Monrisey watched the battle with delight. They were winning!! Horned Rat willing they would wipe out Athel Loren!
The mages gave up hope and began using their magics for a more useful purpose. They ran to the battle and began to destroy units of ratmen.
Monrisey saw the mages and began to concentrate his fire on the mages. He saw one drop after another being hit by the powerful blasts.
Soon the battle field got quiet. Even through the carnage and yelling it got quiet. Grey Seer Monrisey turned toward the tree. The ground began to shake. With a flash of bright white light, the tree burst open. Out stepped Orion and Ariel in all their glory. The Elves turned and saw their deities in their splendor. They faced the ratmen with a look or carnage on their faces. Monrisey got very worried. He threw a blast at Orion but Ariel stepped in front and dispelled it. Orion bellowed and blew his horn. Even Chaos could not help the weaknesses of the rats. Ears bleeding, the rats went forth still believing they could win. The Elves plowed through their ranks.
Ariel used her wand and blasted away entire units of ratmen. Orion used his spear impaling rat ogres. Monrisey knew the tide had turned. He was in the face of death. He turned and ran from the field. Ariel saw the master rat and stopped him with a wall of fire. The Grey Seer stopped and turned. Orion charged. Monrisey saw the King of the Forest running straight for him! He squeaked and looked for a way out. Orion met this destroyer of his forest. Monrisey awaited the spear. It did not come. He could feel his feet leaving the ground. He couldn’t breathe. He noticed he was being lifted by his neck. All on the battlefield went silent as leader met leader. Orion snapped the Monrisey’s neck with a loud pop. He ripped off his head and placed it on a fallen spear. He held the spear for all to see.
With the loss of Monrisey the Skaven lost hope. They tried to turn but noticed their way was blocked by treemen and dryads. The final rats were totally destroyed by these people of the forest who had not fought the entire battle. They were busy creating a flanking movement. It was working branches whipped out, and war machines were smashed by incredible limbs. None escaped the carnage.
Rothiresey was given a charm. He would be protected by the forest forever more. Ariel and Orion were only half charged They went back to their slumber in the mighty Oak of Ages. All the Elves had to spend the rest of the winter fixing the wrongs that had been done. They were lucky that no one else had tried to attack their broken forest. Although when Ariel and Orion awakened that spring they found their realm fixed.
The Elves did learn from this. They developed better guarding for the winter time and created even more magical barriers. All the Elves received a very special funeral. Including Isthanful, who was given a medal for his death. By his death the rest of the forest could know about the invasion.
Written by: Orion, King in the Woods