Furious Wrath [T1-T4 RVR - Wed 3rd Dec : Sat 6th Dec]

[Kanthric]

"I have seen the fires burning and the sky turned black with soot and ash. My dreams are haunted with terrible screams - souls ripped apart with anguish and the voices of the dead whispering foul prayers to the ruinous powers. I have tasted blood on my tongue, rich and dark and fresh, attracting carrion birds from miles around.

"The terrible host approaches us. I have seen their hunger for bloodshed at night, and their raucous cries ring in my ears when I wake. They are coming, brother. Closer with every heartbeat. You must stop them...no matter the cost you must end this advance - please, I beg you, lest the world be drowned in their furious wrath."

- Words of the visionary Matthias Engrekel, Priest of Sigmar, warrior-brother of the Order of the Griffon, spoken from his death bed.

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The Firstborn will be marshalling attacks on each tier, day by day, from Wednesday 3rd to Saturday 6th of December, following the end of the Heavy Metal event.

For those whose schedules will be disrupted by the christmas period, the Furious Wrath events may be one of the last obvious chances for epic ORVR before the new year, so we hope you will be able to attend.

Our gathering points are as follows:

Tier 1 - Nordland warcamp - Wednesday 3rd Dec, 7:00pm GMT
Tier 2 - Ostland warcamp - Thursday 4th Dec, 7:00pm GMT
Tier 3 - Talabecland warcamp - Friday 5th Dec, 7:00pm GMT
Tier 4 - Chaos Wastes warcamp - Saturday 6th Dec, 7:00pm GMT

For those who haven't ridden with our warbands before, know that our strategies are based on cunning and pivotal moments as much as they are on strength of arms. For those who have joined us in battle, stop smiling. We don't want to discourage our foes now, do we?

Warrior brothers (and sisters) both new and old are welcome to join us. Particularly those who are newly travelled from Makaisson, as we plan to show you the full force and fury that Destruction on Burlok is capable of.

Warriors of Order...we've even laid our timetable out for your perusal - you have no excuses not to face us except craven cowardice. Naturally, I cannot make any promises for your survival should you be foolish enough to stand in our path, but I sincerely hope at least some of you are brave enough to attempt to interfere with our plans.

[papajim]

you seem brave enough to challenge us so it would be a plesere to if its time, to die in battlefield fighting you

[Kanthric]

It is said that it is good to face an enemy who is willing to die for his people - that way, both you and he have the same aim in mind.

I am pleased at least one of Order is willing to challenge us. I hope you do not stand alone.

[ercekion]

Hahm be quiet heretic !!

As it IS written an soldier of the Empire never stands alone on the battlefield. He always have the devotion of the people, strenght of his fellow fighters, trust of the Emperor and the most important : he has faith and Sigmar's protection.

Your puny offensive has no chances to succede. thy shall all perish if you try to invade the Empire.

Sir Rudolph von Stilberg, knight of the blazing sun and protector of the Empire.

[Kanthric]

We shall see whether this misplaced faith is the shield you believe it to be.

[Gukrog]

*Gukrog looked out accross the hills from the Warcamp of Hellfang Ridge in Talabecland. In the distance, smoke rose from the smouldering ashes of Verentane's Tower to the east.

*A small figure came into view in the distance, a green shaft of light could be seen emitting into the sky. Skreezig the head Shaman of Da Blak handz had become obsessed with the artefact since he found it in the forests of Avelorn.

*After a few moments, Skreezig rode into the camp and pulled up his Riding Wolf next to the Big Boss.

"Oi Oi boss......dem chaos lot wot woz born first iz out dere scrappin" Skreezig rasped, a giggle somewhat child-like followed.

"Yer....wot you sayin grot!?" bellowed Gukrog. He often took in what was being said by Skreezig as he was one of the "clevva wuns", although Gukrog usually forgot whatever it was minutes later.

"We jus took down da tower fing and dat lot iz takin down da keep az well. Da warband bossboy wiv em sayz dey iz gonna be fightin to hold dis place wiv a big waaaagh" quipped the Shaman.

"Yer.....wot you sayin grot?" Gukrog shifted up his shoulders and rolled them back, angling his neck and tilting his head, letting off an enormous cracking sound. The Riding Boar underneath him did well not to bolt off. Skreezig's eyes widened with excitement.

"Dey gunna be fightin an scrappin wiv pinkskins an scrappin wiv em propa like wot we does wiv dem stunties boss. It told dat zogga i woz gunna tell you'z wot woz sed and i sed wot it woz he told me" for a brief moment Skreezig looked like he had confused himself, his face looking dumb-struck. It all came flooding back as the sound of a war horn in the distance kicked his brain back into gear.

"Tell dat pinksin chaos humie dat da Big Boss iz gunna speak wiv da boyz ov da Blak Handz. Da boyz iz always lookin for a scrap and dem stunties iz lookin like dey had enuff of a beatin. Pinkins to smash in iz alwayz gud... ...hurr hurr" Gukrog gave the boar a gentle kick with his right heel, the mount beneath him waltzing into a trot. A tug on the rains saw the boar face west towards the main road.

"An tell dat humie dat wen Da Blak Handz iz fightin we iz fightin under my orders shammie....we gunna fight wiv dem on da battlefields" Gukrog called over his shoulder.

"Yessss bosss! Waaaaaaaagh!" An excitable Skreezig shot back off down the hill and made his way off into the distance towards the smouldering tower.


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OOC: Da Blak Handz will see gladly smash alongside Firstborn. See you on the battlefields

[Hjonkridora]

Since them chuffin' greenskins will be there, we will uphold our oath t' help Sigmar's manlings an' show ye Chaos lackeys what yer guts be lookin' like!

UZKUL A URKI! DEATH TO THE ORCS!


Addendum: Only in Tiers 3 & 4 I'm afraid

[Venia]

The messenger passes the note cautiously, Elsharla opens it, reading switfly through the words. Nodding she walks away with the grim look of determination on her face.


OOC: I shall be rallying the Kindred troups to this warcry.

[Kriegeur]

I will pass on this information to the regimental commanders.

[JeroKane]

Let's hope the Server gods are with us those nights and their hamster servants being well fed.


JeroKane

[Barbwire]

- It will be amusing to crush the pathetic humans. I also hear our lamenting cousins will be bolstering the ranks. Oh, the ecstasy of suffering they shall witness...

[Greykraken]

House Sathar should be there.

[Ruddyn]

Hazel listened grimly as the scout made his report through gritted teeth. So the chaos horde was moving again. Though it was heresy to even consider such a thing, she often wondered if the Empire had the strength to survive this. She’d fought the horrors of the warp on many occasions and knew better than most their cruelty, their corruption and their single-minded purpose. They fought for glory and lust... she fought just to survive.

A word roused her from her despair. Firstborn. She knew that name. This new enemy was an unwelcome gift from her new allies. They had already met on the battlefield and mention of their name brought terrible images of the bloody fight rushing back. Hazel closed her eyes tightly, struggling to force the violent memory from her mind. The Kindred lost something very precious that day. She vividly remembered her grim-faced friend Gweran, a devout warrior of Sigmar’s church, wrestle with several of the hated enemy as they fell upon him. She watched helplessly as they tore the Kindred’s standard – Venia’s standard – from his mailed fists and cast him aside into the mud and gore of the ruined glade. Unable to break free from the over-powering onslaught of her opponent, Hazel’s heart soured with pride as she watched her friends rush to the fallen priest’s aid and wrench him back to his feet. Though Gweran’s life was saved, their standard was lost to the infidels.

As the memory faded, Hazel recalled the first time she had seen their heraldry. The rich green and gold cloth was draped across the wide fur-covered bed of their most honoured dead. Even in death, Venia wore her colours proudly. The Kindred would get their standard back.

[Armand Ritter]

-Armand simply prepares his equipment, like he's done countless of times before. He says nothing, to noone. He notices the excitement in his fellow kindred allies. Old friends, new friends. Plotting, discussing. He does not take part in it. He prepares his equipment. And is waiting patiently. Thinking people should think twice before challenging that, which they cannot kill. The chosen's sword wound is healed. His pride was never injured. He's trained to kill. He loves to kill. He lives, to kill. Through a flick of fate he landed within Empire ranks instead of being part of the Chaos armies. He shares their bloodlust, he shares their coldness. In a way, the chosen and him are brothers. Yet, Armand would not let family get in the way of fun. Soon.-

[Gharunkal]

The Chieftain of the Northmen raised both his fists into the dark skies and lightning cracked from the clouds above. He roared before a thundering warband. The warriors of Chaos were amassed before their leader.
Olaf planted his heel upon the head of a dieing Imperial and crushed the skull with sheer weight: "Tonight we march with the Firstborn, the time is right. They have lend us the sight of the future and we will charge with them. Everchange for Tzee'neth!" He mounted on and raised his sword ahead, behind him an army who's only goal was to annihilate the stagnant. "Forward the Black Banner!"

Chaos is unleashed!