Been stalking the AoS28 movement for a while and finally decided on a project. I've done a post about AoS28 on a blog I write for called the Bardic Chef which you can read here. Just plans my outline for what I'm going to do for the project.
While Wintertooth is long gone his mutation lives on. A fell legacy embraced and sought after by those that have risen in this new age. Introducing the Jötnar.
⦖ Prologue ⦕
"What the gods gifted to me can be gifted to another. I will not be the one mind in a race of blunt, witless animals."
—Throgg, King of the Trolls
Lord Vargul was enraged... For a follower of Khorne this was not an unusual state to be in, but this was not the pure blood rage that was the gift of the faithful. This was more. He gazed down into the small swampy vale his men had found themselves, his gaze drawn to an agonized scream moments before a great beast lifted a marauder in its hands and tore him cleanly in half.
Troggoths...
How had this happened? At first, it seemed like a pleasant diversion. Test the newbloods by hunting a pack of trogs and collect a few more skulls for the Skull Throne. While their loathsome skulls were hardly a prize the beasts were powerful, and worthy prey for the untested members of the warband. Things were going well at first, they had caught several of the beasts separated from their pack. Several had actually fled from the might of his warband! And then.... Then THEY appeared.
Larger than the other creatures, wielding massive stone hammers and clad in rudimentary armor, they had swarmed into the flanks of his men as they chased the fleeing creatures. He cursed as the beasts seemed to melt into the trees, drawing his men into the brackish water of the swamp. Now the warband fought desperately, with all the fury of Khorne, though the knee deep fetid water sucked at their legs.
But the blasted creatures seemed to have no problem with the terrain... Almost if they planned it that way. That.. No.. That was impossible. Trogs did not think like men.
He turned at the sound of cracking wood as several of the massive armored monsters surged from the trees straight at his people. One stood alone in the centre of the group as its kin went to work with their hammers. He scoffed lightly at the agonized screaming of one man as the great beast vomited a stream of bile over him, his armor and skin melting under its touch.
With a brazen toss of its cloak it raised its hammer above its ugly head and roared a challenge at him. With a howl to Khorne on his lips Vargul he pulled his heavy crescent axe and charged the beast. He was Chosen of Khorne! And this beast’s blood would be his!
It survived his first attack... The second... And the Third...
Again and again he struck at the beast, only to be turned away by its great hammer or to watch its flesh stitch itself back together. He barely saw the blow that struck the stone head of the hammer sweeping his legs from beneath him in a ripple of shattering bone. Forcing air through grieving lungs he tried to rise, only to be pushed down into the filth by one massive foot. Looking up into the twisted face above him and beheld. Amusement.
He leaned down, its weight pushing him into the dirt, cracking bone and forcing the last of the air from his lung. One hand flailed uselessly to reach his axe which lay just feet away then paused at a deep rumbling sound, which he realized was laughter. He looked back up at the beast and it smiled, revealing a huge maw a teeth longer than his hand and spoke, its voice sounding like a boulder rolling down a hillside. “You misguided fools... Do not know when to quit.” Cocking its head to the side, the beast shifted its weight, allowing air to fill Vargul’s lungs again. “Know this worshiper of a failed God--“
“My God has not failed! Khorne will rule all! Khorne will-urk!” He wheezed in pain as the foot pressed harder on his chest.
“Khorne will burn! He shall behold the dawning of a new Age and weep to know he shall have no place in it!” Thick gobs of spittle sprayed over Vargul as the creature worked itself into a rage fit for the God he spoke of. “The Realms will bathe in the blood of the fallen Gods and I shall use Khorne’s own Skull as the capstone for his vacant throne.”
Vaguely he could hear other troggoths nearby, stamping their feet and roaring agreement. With a roar the caped trog raised its hammer high above its horned head. “Rejoice! For the Age of Beasts comes!” A sudden eerie calm came over the creature as it stared down at Vargul. “But you will not get to see it.” Heaving it allowed the hammer to fall down upon the Chosen and all was darkness.
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