#139 Battle XLV - The Mystery of Hel's Claw

Kastellan Trutz shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid the piercing gaze of Lord Tzunaak's night-black eyes. "I just don't know, my Lord..."

"We know the Errant Knights were carrying the emberstone - we saw it with our own eyes. I have interrogated them, but their spirits have decayed and their memories are too faint and confused."

"Are the Knights of the Thorn likewise withered my Lord?"

"Don't be a fool Trutz!" snapped Tzunaak, "Even if they had such memories, their loyalty to the King of Thorns is unbending - they know only his truth!"

Trutz gulped. "Did Heisenberg's Panthers perhaps see what happened? They survived longer --"

Tzunaak glared at her. "Kastellan Tu'co claims they saw nothing through the mist of red rage that fell upon them. Those blood knights are are as beasts Trutz. Why Countess Zkyla ever gave the blood kiss to knights of the Dark Powers is beyond me - they are practically vargheists! It is like asking a Vengorian for its insight!"

Trutz was about to point out how useful Heisenberg's Panthers had been in their campaign on the Ravaged Coast, but thought better of it. Despite everything, Lord Tzunaak was in a foul mood. The Brotherhood of Mannfred's ostensible 'Crusade' in Aqshy had been challenging, but generally very successful. Lord Tzunaak's forces had defeated almost all of their adversaries and won enough decisive victories not only to impress the Pontifex Surrexit, but to persuade him to come and join their campaign! Now the mighty Lord Crusader of Barfunweltz appeared convinced of Tzunaak's 'piety' and had welcomed him into his inner circle. This elaborate deception had been the precise purpose of the entire endeavour, so Lord Tzunaak ought to have been delighted. 

But the events at Hel's Claw had proved a most unsatisfying conclusion to the expedition, simply because of the cloud of uncertainty surrounding their outcome. 

Hel's Claw itself had proved very difficult to approach. Constant volcanic eruptions and shifting lava fields had necessitated frequent detours, occasionally bringing rival forces face to face to fight once more. Seraphon and Skaven had been racing the Brotherhood across the heaving ground while the accursed Kharadron could often be heard overhead trying to navigate ash clouds and avoid molten rock spewed into the sky. In the end, only the Soulblights could reach Hel's Claw by land, but not sooner had they arrived, than Dragonbeard's Expedition descended from the leaden sky.

There before them lay a huge, smouldering cache of precious emberstone. Without hesitation, Lord Tzunaak and the Pontifex had summoned cursed sepulchres directly from Barfunweltz Cemetery all the way from blessed Shyish. The moss-covered tombs looked incongruous surrounding the emberstone hoard in the ash-coated, volcanic vista of the Ravaged Coast but they served a vital purpose for Tzunaak's battle plan.

Before the Duardin gun's could even fire a shot, the Errant Knights of the Blood-Drenched Rose surged out of the sepulchre nearest the emberstone and set about gathering smouldering crystals in skeletal hands. The King of Thorns brought his own barrow knights forward to provide a defensive shield around their prize. Simultaneously, Tzunaak and the Pontifex lead the vampiric charge against the Karadron to hold them off. It had been a moment of military genius.

However, the Brotherhood of Manfredd had not accounted for the technological ingenuity of Captain Dragonbeard. Strange bombs and guns and inexplicable explosions erupted from his Expedition forces throwing the Soulblights' nightmare steeds into confusion and disarray. Tripping over one another, the charging knights failed to reach some of their most vital targets and the Pontifex himself found his only opponent to be some strange mechanical contraption of no significance. Lord Tzunaak and the Templars Ascendent cut down the Duardin's pet carnosaur, but it was far less than he had hoped for from this charge.

And then the Duardin opened fire. Noble vampire knights were blown apart by canon fire from all directions. Strange ammunitions somehow negated the Pontifex's magical wards so that even his monstrous steed, the mighty Ophanim was cut down beneath him. Even as Kastellan Trutz, the last knight of the Obsidian Brethren fell, she saw the Karadron guns blast Lord Tzunaak from his steed and swivel to open fire on the King of Thorns and his great deathrattle entourage. They held the emberstone, but the Duardin were coming for it.

But at that moment, Hel's Claw heaved and the mighty volcano erupted yet again. Smoke and ash and lava spewed into the air, obscuring all. Had Dragonbeard's guns destroyed the Barrow Knights and stolen their hoard? Or had the King of Thorns managed to maintain the deathrattle knights' undead forms long enough for them to escape Hel's Claw with the emberstone?

The King of Thorns, the only undead creature to survive the battle with enough sentience and autonomy to answer that question, was claiming the emberstone had been lost. But Tzunaak wasn't so sure. He knew the old Wight King hated him and would do whatever he could to thwart the Soulblight's ambition, even declaring defeat in the face of victory! Tzunaak understood that the Pontifex Surrexit and King of Thorns were two petals of the Cinquefoil of Barfunweltz - two shards of the same ancient, cursed soul. They could never be reunited, yet they shared some sort of bond which no other could understand. Was the King trying to shield the Pontifex from the influence of the Legion of Night? Had he stolen the emberstone and secreted its power away somewhere to fuel his own bitter ambitions?

Had the Brotherhood of Manfredd really lost the Battle of Hel's Claw? Had Lord Tzunaak's ostensible crusade really fallen at the last hurdle? 

Only King of Thorns knew what actually happened. And knowledge is power. Power that had been snatched from Tzunaak's grasp at the very last moment.

* * *

After a bit of a wait thanks to my summer holidays, Toby and I finally played our campaign finale game. My plan to raise the big unit of barrow knights out of a cursed sepulchre to grab the objective worked to start with... The problem was that our armies had gained so many special abilities and grown so big by the end of the campaign (Toby's was nearly 2500 points) that the game took ages and it was difficult for units to find space to manoeuvre. We both had so many extra rules and upgrades to remember! In the end, we ran out of time (4 hours) before the end of turn 2! I still carried the objective, but having double-turned me, Toby seemed to have the upper hand so I conceded. It was a slightly frustrating end to the campaign as the result was not by any means a forgone conclusion, but it's not a good look for the campaign organiser to win, is it?!