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About this blog

Action! Emotion! Intrigue!

Age of Sigmar short fiction from an amateur's pen. Updated regularly with new tales, feedback and future story suggestions welcome. Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own, so please don't sue.

Entries in this blog

 

At the walls of Knossus

A story of a siege The triple walls of Knossus have stood inviolate for centuries. During the long age when Sigmar retreated behind the gates of his realm and plotted his mighty counterstroke against the Dark Gods, Knossus survived, ensconced behind its great barriers. They are permanent fixtures in the landscape of Chamon, as enduring as any mountain. I have been told that the outermost wall has only been breached twice since its construction. The third wall, the highest and mightiest, has n

TheHuscarl

TheHuscarl

 

War Stories

A tale of the Freeguilds General Thaddeus Carmoggan met his guests in his spacious study, seated behind a thick, mahogany desk, The accoutrements of his former profession in the Freeguilds surrounded him. A shattered choppa, taken from the dead claws of Gorruk Mangletooth, sat alongside an gold-chased, handcrafted pistol gifted to him from the Ironweld Arsenal upon the defeat of the heretic engineer Lugenbrau. Tattered banners from no less than four different regiments adorned the walls, sque

TheHuscarl

TheHuscarl

 

Brass and Blood

In which the bonds of loyalty are tested under the Blood God's gaze Red skies and orange sun. Fortuitous omens perhaps, on the eve of battle. The army of Halthcar Dreadgaze was camped on the edge of the canyon, guarding the end of the great bridge of Kharathdun. Even above the raucous noise of the warcamp, the bubbling and hissing of the ever-boiling Kharath River could be heard echoing from the canyon, and those closest to the rim constantly felt the roiling heat of what passed for a waterwa

TheHuscarl

TheHuscarl

 

The Hunter's First Tale

A Warcry Story   The sky is different here. It is, perhaps, the most notable aspect of this blighted place, something that immediately sets it apart from all the other realms. It shifts constantly, often like a kaleidoscope of mingled colors, other times just solid red or a sickly orange. Storms come swiftly, rolling in seemingly out of nowhere, bringing rain that may be soft and cool or vicious enough to flense the flesh off a man’s bones. Foul winds blow across this wasteland as well
 

Any Port In A Storm

In which a storm in Ghur drives a traveler off his path and into the  sanctuary of a far-flung church of Sigmar...   The sound of thunder rattled the windows of the small church. Outside, rain relentlessly lashed its exterior, spattering off the old stones like bullets from a Freeguilder’s musket. Kneeling in prayer at the altar, the priest did his best to shut out the noise of the storm. He muttered his catcheisms as flashes of lightning illuminated the interior of the sacred space. As f
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