“Third son, that’s the worst luck anyone could have” thought young Kislev noble Coltraine. He was very upset of his destiny and no one can blame him, because in front of him there were only two possibilities – priest or professional soldier in his older brother army. He wasn’t very fond of religion, so that wasn’t even an option. But to join the army like a leader of Winged Lancers Party from his home town wasn’t a challenge for him either. He fought with them side to side at the borders of Naggarithe, and a thin pale scar crossing his left cheek up to his black hair was a mark that wouldn’t allow him to forget how risky the life of the border patrol is. Especially when for the future supreme commander will be nominated his half brother Igor called the Badger – so filthy and ruse, and who hate him from the moment Coltraine was borne.
“So let it be this way!” thought he and headed to the east gate of Kislev, where a misty shadow was waiting patiently for more then hour, until he was struggling with all the prejudices and sentiments that was trying to convince him do not to leave.
The die was cast for him that very same lone winter night. And nobody herd of him until ten years later.
He stretches his hands in silent prayer like every morning. Next to him are only his devoted and sworn friends – K’ukrill and Nooks. The raising winter sun was shining over the edges of his and K’ukrill’s greatly ornamented armours and that in combination with the morning frost made him felt more blessed than ever. Nooks mumble quietly and at his very old manner made the summoning ritual success. Slaanesh gave them his twisted smile and they felt favored and proud to be his hand on those cursed lands.
His steed was staying next to K’ukrill’s and they rushed towards them. Nook was so concentrated in his own business that he realized they are gone only when he finished the rest of summoning – few dozens of mounted daemonettes. His chariot was ready, so he just whispered shortly and its charioteer approached it, so that he could jump in.
The land was frozen during the long night and that was great advantage for his army. He can hear in front of his steed the roar of the battle hounds, some noises made by the marauders and the knights from his horde, but that wasn’t important – his scouts were already detected the camp of Kislevit force , and the daemonettes so fast and smooth where behind them, so he was confident that when the battle starts their sinister appearance will make this pity humans to panic and havoc. He will win before it starts. Coltraine just needed some practice and his halberd needed some fresh blood – the daemon that inhabited it was always blood thirsty. And more than that – they didn’t expected him back any more, especially like Chosen Lord of Slaanesh ahead of devastating army of daemons and mortal followers of his god. That was just the beginning of the new Chaos assault over the most northern empire borders. But he wasn’t back for good – Kislev was doomed.
Това е едно разказче което написах за участието си в турнира по Уорхамър в Белград. Спечели ми няколко точици, които ме отпратиха над последното 36 място!!
Мнения, коментар и критики са добре дошли!!!
