Waking Dead

It always began in the same way; a slight chill wind, the bright sun blurring in his tear-filled eyes, the glittering of the metal above him, a grating rasping sound, then silence. The world lost its colours as the sky rolled around and finally came to rest on a slant, a metallic taste filling his mouth. Now the scene began to change, the sky became dark and forboding, the huddled houses about the square in such bad condition they could barely stand and where a crowd once stood were piles of debris. Hans had been guilty as the elders had judged, and just as surely this was hell. Warmth and joy were but distant memories, all that was left was hate. Hate for the sight of the square, hate for those who condemned him to dwell here and most of all hate for having to relive his final moments each time his resting place was disturbed. Around him Hans could see other restless spirits reliving their final moments, letting out silent screams, their faces contorted in torture. These trespassers will pay!

Skaven Warphunters vs. Undead

Hans looked down on the square, he could see ratmen scurrying through the rubble out towards the east. They approached the square with no fear as if they had no knowledge of the events that had transpired here. Then a disturbance drew his attention, a band of undead had heard the advancing skaven and was moving to fight them. How dare they fight here, HOW DARE THEY!!! Hans swooped down on the first ratman in sight and slammed into them, his ethereal form given weight by sheer hatred. The verminkin was thrown a full 15 feet backwards, dead before he hit the ground, his ribcage caved inwards from the force of the attack. The others moved forwards, their leader clearly standing out as he gave orders to advance. Hans could see the dark magic of the vampire at work, the undead shambled forwards as if of one mind. Now the skaven were out in the open and swiftly moving towards the scaffold. Hans could see one of them extracting teeth from a decapitated skull and placing them in a small pouch. These creatures were out to defile this resting place and take back relics as proof of their bravery! Outrage welled up inside Hans and he dived again, straight into the leader of the ratmen; he was thrown clear of the scaffold but did not appear hurt, apparently this vermin would not be so easy to kill. The ratmen were now swarming over the scaffold and within range of the undead. They let fly with a volley of sling shots, the stones ricocheting off paving and buildings but none appeared wounded. Then Hans saw the body of an undead necromencer lying in a doorway and realised one of the stones must have hit home. Outraged by this the remaining undead broke cover and came streaming towards the scaffold, the vampire himself leading the assault. To the right-hand side the verminkin became locked in combat with a group of zombies whilst in the centre the vampire had outpaced his followers and entered the fray. Hans saw other spirits dive into the ranks of the undead, their anger pushing them back from the centre of the square. The ratmen leader appeared back on the scaffold; Hans dived on him for a second time and again he was flung away but remained unhurt. Now the ratmen swarmed on the vampire and he was brought down under a hail of blows. Without the will of their leader the zombies retreated from the field carrying their fallen master away.

Marienbergers vs. Beastmen

“And now more come!” growled Hans; it seemed that he had been fighting the same battle for an age. He recognised the colours of the city of Marienberg on some of the men, while others were garbed in a more mercinary style. From the other side of the square the feral baying of beastmen was getting louder. Hans could hear them banging shields and rattling weapons, trying to intimidate their enemies. Hans wafted through the wall of a nearby builing so that he could see the humans advance. They covered the ground to the scaffold quickly, some of them hesitant to step onto it, prefering to stand back and fire their arrows and bolts into the advancing beasts. One fell, struck down by a bolt though the ruined door of an inn. The braver men took souvenirs from the scaffold but not before one of them was struck down by a vengeful spirit, the man’s open eyes rolling back in his head, staring blankly up at the sky. The beastmen’s relentless advance continued; they were nearly close enough to charge and began howling challenges at the Marienbergers. Their captan ordered them back from the scaffold and into a tighter formation.

The beastmen, now worked up into an uncontrollable frenzy, charged the humans. One of them slipped but managed to recover his footing. The other was not so lucky, his head caved inwards by the thigh bone of a long-dead animal, the splinters of bone mixing in a shower of blood. The beasts seemed in their element at closer range and the human casualties began to mount. Hans` fellow spirits seemed unable to hurt the animals, they were too hardy to be overcome. Hans saw below him the leader of the Marienbergers and swept through him with all the force he could muster. The human was thrown backwards into the wall of a ruined building, he smashed through the weakened structure and ended up buried under a pile of rubble. The Mareinbergers now took another step backwards from the beasts and unleashed a final deadly hail of fire. This finally broke the resolve of the beatsmen and they fled from the field. As they fled one of the humans noticed the unconscious body of their leader slung over a beasman’s shoulder.