Slaughter at the Six Spikes

Deep in one of the most dreadful vales of the Great Forest, a place overridden with predatory monsters, there is a miles-wide clearing hidden by dense groves of gnarled and sickly trees. No paths lead to this darksome site, so to reach it requires hacking through the undergrowth of thorn-ridden brambles. So quickly does the entangling brush grow back that it could cover up the passage of an army overnight. If a traveller were to perservere, they would stand on the edge of a wide open expanse, once encircled by the Six Spikes. Rumoured to be the fallen splinters of the moon Morrslieb, each spike was made of single hunk of meteoric black rock, and together they appeared as the jagged fangs of a gaping maw, or perhaps a ring of gigantic spearpoints. Greenish mist rose from their rough surfaces like steam, and even under the light of day the spikes seemed to absorb light rather than be illuminated by it, their unnatural darkness overpowering the sun's rays.^[1a]

The Six Spikes were sacred to teh Beastmen that roamed the Great Forest, a gathering point for foul rituals. It was known amongst the warherds that when the light of the fully waxed Morrslieb struck the obsidian columns, the spikes would whisper dark secrets to the Bray-Shamans and that if enough blood washed the base of the Six Spikes, a mighty gift of power untold would be given to the true children of Chaos. Many herds had come to pile the severed heads of the foe against the base of each spike, but no gifts were ever bequeathed in return. That is, until the ratmen came...^[1a]

The Tribute of Blood

The Skaven sought to undermine the Six Spikes, dropping the great stones into the Under-Empire for their own greedy consumption. The nefarious ratmen had long spied upon their prize, timing the Beastmen migrations. They knew that by acting quickly, the stones could be pilfered long before any herd returned. In their wanderings, the Beastmen regularly left the Six Spikes unattended for many erratic cycles of Morrslieb, but at the urgings of his Bray-Shamans, Beastlord Brrak Gorehorn had been convinced to return to the site. Pushing through the razor-sharp brambles, the warherd arrived in time to see the great stones covered in guide ropes, and multitudes of ratmen straining to shift the rocks into tunnels below. Enraged at the violation of their sacred grounds, Brrak Gorehorn led his warheard into battle - but it was no real battle; it was more akin to butchery.^[1b]

Stunned at the fury of the sudden assault, the Skaven could not retreat, as their underground tunnels were packed, teeming with the slave labour needed to halt the massive monoliths. The Beastmen slaughtered the Skaven in numbers beyond count, hunching into the underground passages to continue the mauling. Morrslieb, which had been sliver-thin the previous night, rose now, mysteriously full, shining its green-tinted light on the carnage below. The Bray-Shamans, their fur bristling in anticipation, ordered the offering begin. Piles of mangled and blood-matted corpses were stacked against the Six Spikes. Thus began a grim ceremony which lasted for three nights and three days. Awash with quantities of blood as never before, the Six Spikes emitted clouds of veiling dark which, picked up by the rising wind, began to cloak the Great Forest in a mist of gloom.^[1b]

The Storm Gathers

Far away, in the surrounding small towns of Talabecland, they too read the signs of impending doom - milk turned to blood, bestial images appeared in the flames of hearth fires, and ominous and ill-shaped clouds rose over the "dark place" - a notoriously wild part of the Great Forest. Hastily scrawled warnings had already been sent from the Celestial College, the Grand Astromancer having read grim portents in the Great Astrolabe. Cog-driven mechanical pigeons and couriers on lather-whipped steeds had raced to deliver the dire message. With great haste, Kurt Helborg, Grand Marshal of the Reiksguard, mustered an army to meet the threat. With each hamlet or small town he passed through, he saw his force grow - a regiment of Halberdiers here, some militia there. Hunstmen arrived out of the wild to join the army. Already his train was long and included horse-drawn artillery pieces, the clanking Steam Tank, Conqueror, and many regiments of state infantry. Representatives from each College of Magic accompanied the force; though soon there was little need for portents or the directions of astrolabes, for a towering column of swirling black clouds stretched up from the forest floor and reached far into the heavens. It writhed out tentacles of vapour like some living beast, and no man that looked at it could remain unafraid. After a march of three days, the coalition of Imperial troops was ready to enter the roiling black fog that now engulfed the Six Spikes.^[1b]

During those three days the Beastmen feasted and the surging winds carried the raucous howling of their blood-orgy far, stirring many dark creatures. The skies above the Six Spikes appeared to crack apart, revealing a growing black hole through which no stars could be seen. Nearly blind to the mundane world, Cygors saw the amplified outpouring of magic from the Six Spikes as a glowing beacon, and the enourmous beasts pushed a path through the forest to join the throng. Like sharks to blood, the growing arcane storm attracted wild packs of Trolls, Jabberslythes and the Giant Spiders that roamed the woods - all drawn by the magical summons.^[1b]

Many more Beastmen and fell creatures of the forest answered the call. The Bray-Shamans clambered atop the Six Spikes, the black pinnacles of rock which stabbed high into the growing storm. From there, the horned sorcerers could better immerse themselves in the rising flow of otherworldly power. They sensed the approaching army of men and, furthermore, they perceived that if they could remain on their lofty perches, the darkness would grow. The shamans heard whispers from the ever-increasing Winds of Magic, promises from the Dark Gods of a return to the Time of the Beast, when their kind openly ruled, and the pink-skins lived not in towns, but in caves, not daring to raise up buildings or clear the woodlands. The Beastmen howled and scraped their hooves in ancticipation of battle and a hope of gaining their rightful ascendancy - ruling supreme over a new age of darkness.^[1b]

To Seize the Standing Stones

As his forces cut through the undergrowth, Kurt Helborg, a gifted commander of many victories, instantly appraised the battlefield. A tide of Beastmen was formed up in the clearing, and behind them were ragged towers of rock forming a circle of black oblivion so dreadful that it hurt his eyes to look upon it. Atop each of the six stones, in a nimbus of balefire, stood a cowled shaman. It did not take the augurs of his Battle Wizards to tell the Reiksmarshal that these must be the source of the supernatural storm. His commands echoed in the errie silence as the Empire battleline formed - all efforts must be taken to destroy the stones and the Bray-Shamans atop them. And so the battle that became known as the Slaughter at the Six Spikes opened as a battery of Great Cannon spouted tongues of fire, their long-ranged shots hoping to smash the rock towers. Even in the gloaming, it could be seen that some of the cannonballs should have hit their mark, yet the heavy iron balls disappeared in a flash before making contact. Gunsmoke rolled down the Empire lines, along with prayers to Sigmar, Tall and all the gods fit to mention. There were powerful magics at work here and Kurt Helborg knew he must find a way to close with the mystic stones or face certain defeat.^[1c]

In answer to the thunderous blasts of artillery, the Beastmen horde charged, cutting loose with a resounding roar of their own. Many of the Empire troops were veterans, warriors who had fought in the gloomy forests against Beastmen before - but never had they seen such an assembly, nor had they seen the foe so bloodthirsty. Interspersed between the oncoming ranks of Beastmen strode monstrous horrors - towering Ghorgons, their many mouths drooling in eagerness for the coming flesh-feast, obscenely shambling Chaos Spawn, seemingly sprouting new clawed appendages from their hunched masses, and the bull-headed and muscle-bound Minotaurs, their flared nostrils scenting their prey. A Great Spined Beast, a foul creature seldom seen outside of the Chaos Wastes, howled in its anguished anticipation of slaughter. The attacking waves were as ferocious as they were brutal. Some spell of madness was upon all the creatures of Chaos, for they fought with a reckless abandon and were oblivious to pain. Again and again the twisted beast-creatures crashed into the Empire lines, only to be repulsed with great losses. Yet each relentless attack left gaping holes in the bloodied ranks of the men, and there were fewer and fewer troops to fill them.^[1c]

Breakthrough

Pending...

Source

• 1: Storm of Magic (supplement)
  • 1a: pg. 16
  • 1b: pg. 17
  • 1c: pg. 18