Thread: They Who Thirst (Dr. Nibbles & SomethingEsoteric)

The screams of Tagothur rippled through the falling sheets of rain sounded of their retribution abound, both sides fighting with both righteous and wicked indignations in their chests. The skirmishers, their vanguard as it were were no match for the TagothUr that in essence much greater examples of their own savagery. Their vanguard comprised of men too wild for a battalion, too random and raging to be filed into tanks, they dashed out ahead of the three ranks of twenty men that included Hilde and in a conventional clash of blade and bone they may do well to break the ranks of an enemy but in this case they served only well, one could say a buffer but they were much more easily likened to cannon fodder or the fence post a young farmboy may enjoy slapping about with an ear of wheat in this case however the ear of wheat be crude axe and the immobile post did succumb to each swipe. While the men in ranks did shudder at the sight, while the archers did question if their arrows took a single casualty, while the scent of fear and piss began to turn the air and whispers of fear with it while all these and more played about Hilde she did not so much as Grimace, this was war, the eternal war the bloodiest and most damnable, the odds were never at present in their favor and the casualties were in immeasurable swathes a few lowly drunks was little concern of the stalwart priestess in the heated moment. Second Volley! She cried out with her hammer raised in the air, a crackling skitter of radiance shimmering across the breadth of its maul, as she demanded another kite of arrows whistled through the skies, this one a slight smaller than the last, clearly men not as great as those at her side had been routed by the tenacity of their foes, she would not be. As the volley fell, several more TagothUr staggered, growling and snapping the arrows off in their remarkable skin fair as maidens was pure but hard and resilient as any beast of war or burden alike. A growl rumbled in Hildes throat then a bark Charge! Charge! She cried over her right shoulder then her left, demanding the two columns on either side of her charging forward then the next and finally her own. The many men crashed with equal numbers but far more dispatching women, if a TagothUr could truly be referred to so flippantly as such, no, not women beasts at best, twisted abominations not fit to breathe the same air as the Imperial blooded men and women of these lands but deadly no less, no less deadly for it that is, maybe even more so. Just the same as a single TagothUr could swing their deadly axe and rip a Militia-man in two Hilde could fend off the coming blow with a swing of her steel clad arm and repay in kind with her brazen war hammer of Sigmar, their ribs shattering, the last breath wheezing from their chests as she delivered the final blow their skulls caving. Three TagothUr Warrior women did advance on the priestess and each met the same end, the first swung hard on her shield and its axe did glance aside with a glimmer of light and an arcing spark only flint and steel could create Hilde recovering and burying her hammer so deep in the Tagothurs skull its frontal lobe ruptured and mixed with the ripped and sundered flesh of her cheeks, nose and what else gore the fatal swing of Hildes imbued hammer could yield. She did not revel in the death of the TagothUr, she did not enjoy battle, chemically thrilling as it could be, she did not enjoy the swell of adrenaline through her veins or the hard beating of her heart in her chest and ears. She took no pleasure in the second righteous kill as a TagothUr wound back to cleave her and she responded with a hard boot to her chest and a underhanded swing of her hammer that caved in her ribs and subsequently found punctured lungs sputtering feted blood off once screaming lips, the next blow to a TagothUrs Cheek bone sweeping forward from the felled woman choking on her blood there was a brief red mist from the shattered woman, shards of skull, clumps of matted hair, scalp and brain matter cascading through the air, a wet spatter across her face that was warm then soon washed away by the falling rain. The priestess snarled and groaned, wiping the blood of the corrupted from her face, her eyes leveling to find her equal and opposite on this field, a woman wielding two axes, magnificent by every stretch at a glance, beautiful in her horrendous visage of madness and chaos sin was often cunning in veneer but one did not need to scratch far passed the surface to see the true abomination wrapped in primal beauty. Hilde swallowed hard as her eyes followed the natural womanly curves of the very unnatural chieftain her two hazel orbs setting on a long, hard, phallic symbol of gluttonous lust and most fowl of sins the touch of chaos. For the first time on the battlefield since just a babe in martial respects Hilde stood in a state of shock, watching the giantess barrel across the slop of mud and death that had once been a modest hamlet of good peoples and their good families and their pious lives not even the piercings cries to brace the line from her men at arms pulled her from the thousand yard stare freely given to Iridith of the TagothUr.