Doom: End Times (Doom X Warhammer Fantasy)

Dark Fantasies

The rat shrieked as Valkia impaled the wretched thing on Slaupnir. It's foul musk sprayed before it expired instantly. The Gorequeen expressed her disgust by retching the Skaven off her spear in one swing. Valkia's eyes were now directed towards the other vermin, now closely watched by her personnel.

"I was promised that the walls would fall!" Valkia snapped. "Yet, here they are, still standing before me while my army is painting the walls red with their own blood!"

The Gorequeen snapped one of her men to drag a skaven before her. The thing was shaking in fear, as it was in their nature when facing authority.

"E-Elf-things discover-found us! Clever and cunning things! Ruined-destroyed plans to take-steal fortress!" The skaven cried out.

Valkia roared in anger as she decapitated the rat in front of her. The other two squealed and shivered, spraying again their awful stench. Her men, meanwhile, tried their damndest not to show their fear, sweating beads underneath their closed helmets as they watched the daemon princess vent her anger on such pathetic creatures rather than themselves. A fortunate outcome greatly favored their side. The Gorequeen redirected her wrath once more to the foul vermin.

"Craven things are what you are!" She roared. "Killing you would ease my wrath, but to give such pathetic offerings to my beloved is an affront to his throne!"

Valkia grabbed the skaven by the throat and threatened, "Remove yourself from my sight and spread word to your lowly masters that the deal is off!"

Faintly pleased, Valkia cast the rat back to his partner, both of whom scurrying away to find some burrow elsewhere. Her gaze was now set upon the wall. Still, it stood arrogantly down upon her army for the past week. No matter how much manpower and daemon she could attain, the elves used their damnable magic to ensure that they would survive this battle longer. The skaven were supposed to do their damn jobs, but it seems they weren't clever enough to hide their tracks within. The Gorequeen grinded her teeth in frustration with her derailed plans.

On the other hand, it was only one fortress she was besieging. There were still other forces at the elven citadels elsewhere, and with their numbers, there was a good chance that they were successful in securing victories. For now, the Witch-King and his cohorts were her targets. Except now they have the damn witches from Ghrond.

She held her gaze on the eyesore of a tower. The top was now swirling with not only black dragons, but also dark magic to repel any that come close. Not even the mightiest Bloodthirsters could penetrate its barriers without risking banishment back to the Warp. The ebony tower was too much and she turned away in disgust.

"I'll be in my tent." Said Valkia to her men. The Norscans nodded and paid their respects before leaving her be. And rightly so, for she was in a foul mood. Valkia walked back to her tent, where the war table was set up at the center

This took a moment before Valkia smelled the scent of magic closeby. She whipped around and readied Slaupnir at the intruder. As it turned out, all she found was an old, decrepit man in dark furs and gnarly staff. His eyes were milky white, indicating blindness, yet the motion of her spear created a surprised look on his face. Though, the most damning that caught her attention was the white crow perched on his shoulder. She was not fooled by the seemingly innocuous disguise his familiar went by, for a great source of magic was abundant within.

"Who are you and what do you want, craven?" Demanded Valkia. The old man held his hands in defense.

"A-Apologies, Bride of Khorne." Said the man. "I am but a messenger of the Gods. And a humble advisor to any ear that is willing."

"None that I shall not need from the likes of you." Valkia said dismissively. "So tell me, messenger, how is it that you managed to come to me with sanity intact? I thought the other three gods left their followers drooling like idiots a while ago."