Prelude by Isabel Harrison and react options by Matt Schubert

Following the death of Morkar the Uniter, First Everchosen and Twice-Born, a great uncertainty has emerged among the ranks of the Chaos Undivided forces. The new pursuer of the title of Everchosen, a man who went by the name of Archaon who stemmed from no Northern tribe that anyone knew of seemed to have his thrown his lot in with Tzeench, not because of any choices he ever made to follow that god but simply by virtue of how he came to be. Archaon spoke of appealing to all the Chaos Gods, even ones whom previous Everchosen had never been able to enthral like the Great Horned Rat of the Skaven or Hashut of the Dawi Zarr to create a truly united scourge by which to purge this world of orderly intent. But then again, so many had tried and failed.

Thinking that Archaon is their champion, the followers of Tzeentch have already began trying to capitalise on the situation by promising that Archaon will reward those who leave their allegiances behind and join Tzeench’s ranks with high-status positions in the horde to come once he is crowned Everchosen for which several opportunists, especially former Warriors of Slaanesh, now flocked to the Changeling’s ways.

While discord was being sewn in the ranks, Archaon had taken to consulting with Morkar’s former Khornate liutenant, Abrax The Bloody, on how he may gain the Daemons of Khorne’s respect before civil war broke out. However, one Khornate lord in particular had no sympathy for all this politicing and scheming, things he viewed as the Raven God’s tools. This lord was the mighty Aarbal, a veteran Champion of Khorne whom had gained the titles of The Undefeated and The Invincible for his many great victories. During the siege of Praag during Asavar Kul’s time as Everchosen, Arbaal led a hundred daemons on the assault and it said he was the one who finally broke the gates of the city with his powerful axe, the Destroyer of Khorne, from which he instigated the slaughter of thousands of its unlucky defenders. Even at the end of Asavar Kul’s reign, when his army fought Emperor Magnus the Pious in the final great battle of Kislev which saw the death of that Everchosen himself, Aarbal was never beaten and simply left the battle when the time to do so came, when his lust for bloodshed had been sated by the sliced-open bodies of Kislevite serfs that formed in a pile up to his waste.

For his great many deeds, Aarbal has become recognised as a favourite of his god and his most devoted servant. Khorne gave him the Destroyer after all, a reward that has only ever belonged to Khorne’s own Champion alone. A relentless fury of destruction and blood-letting descends on Arbaal whenever he wades through his foes in battle and nobody has ever been able to withstand his attacks for he is forever aware of Khorne’s gaze upon him, knowing that should he ever flee a battle the terrible wrath of his patron deity will descend upon him and turn him into a Chaos Spawn. And so, Aarbal gathered an army of Khornate warriors, mostly mortal men, cavalry and daemon hounds though some bloodletters did make up the ranks as well. Anything larger would risk insubordination after all.

Thus the armies of Khorne marched into the Eastern Imperial province of Ostermark and descended on the town of Essen. Just as in Prague so many years before, Aarbal carved his axe into the gates of the town and sent his armies streaming inside as he revelled in the sacrifices he made for his god atop his Hound of Khorne mount as he toyed with the Death’s Heads, Essen’s famous regiment of renowned halberd and shield troopers who wore skull masks as an homage to their history of servitude under the Vampire lord Vlad von Carstein. However, all was not lost for Essen when a magnificent figure appeared on the horizon to slay this Khornate champion once and for all.

.

This man hailed from a Reikland village called Lachenbad where since birth he had been blessed with a strange mark on his chest, shaped like the twin-tailed comet of Sigmar. The comet is a powerful omen and many villagers considered drowning him in a river as a baby out of fear of what this man’s destiny might bring to their village but fortunately, his father was big enough to stop people from ever putting those intentions into practice.

As he grew, this figure grew bigger and stronger than all other boys of his age while also seeming more intelligent than most around him and as he matured into adulthood, he joined in his father’s work as the village blacksmith. However, his life changed forever on his 24th birthday when a horde of Beastmen poured from the forests, unencumbered by state troops due to the ongoing war between the Empire and the Greenskins over Altdorf. These Beastmen were led by Beastlord Rargarth who plundered and burnt the village and dismembered the villagers who resisted his wrath. However, this 18 year old refused to die. He smashed his way to his father’s forge, using his bare fists to kill Beastmen in his way and picked up two heavy hammers and set about the horde like a possessed man before shattering Ragarth’s skull with his hammers, though Ragarth’ s blade pierced his chest.

Though the village had been half razed, it had been saved from total destruction by a mere blacksmith’s son and if this wasn’t enough, his chest wound seemed to heal itself by the next morning. Word of his victory spread quickly and many came to visit him. Free company men wanted him in their militias, generals wanted him in the army yet he refused them all for such fates were not his destiny. However, this pattern of rejections stopped when a truly legendary figure came to his village. The mighty Warrior Priest of Sigmar, Luthor Huss, had come with the Heldenhammer in hand.

Huss revealed to this man that his victory coincided with the pyrrhic victory the Emperor gained over the Orc Warboss Grimgor Ironhide and, upon seeing the man’s mark of the comet, suggested that Sigmar may have come to his aid at the expense of protecting the Emperor. Either way, Huss swore that he would find a champion of Sigmar worthy enough to wield Ghal Maraz in the Emperor’s absence and so, he took the Sigmar-blessed man under his tutelage.

When the time came and Khorne’s warriors invaded the borders of Ostermark, the Hammer of Sigmar lit up and showed its champion the way to traverse hundreds of miles on horseback faster than any mounted man could. Aarbal may intend to destroy Essen, but this town’s saviour rides to its rescue. Who will survive, the unstoppable warrior of Khorne or the unshakeable champion of Sigmar?

…..

⚫ Laugh React: Valten´s steed rushed towards the foe, not needing even a single command from its master. With agility and grace it charged forth, dodging friend and foe, unhindered by the barding. As Sigmar´s champion rode, slaughtering any chaos warriors foolish enough to come upon his path he heard the terrifying howl as Arbaal began his approach, his mighty hound ripping brave men to shreds as it galloped for it´s master´s greatest prize.

As the fires of battle raged everywhere, both riders met in the middle, their godly weapons clashing against one another. With every strike, a thundering clash rang throughout the warzone, none seemingly able to land a direct hit, none wishing for the other to have a single opportunity to do so. As both men fought, hound and steed had a battle of their own. It was many minutes, or maybe it was years… when the hound gained the upper hand, sinking it´s daemonic teeth into Valten’s horse´s neck, biting through protection, through skin, through flesh. As the noble steed let out a single shriek, the hound tore once, ripping out most of the steeds neck.

As Valten stood back up, turning his gaze for but a moment towards the horse´s mangled corpse in bitter sadness before turning his eyes with righteous anger towards the chaos champion. Arbaal, seeing his opponent´s steed mangled let out a mighty laugh, arrogantly looking up to the sky as he continued laughing in victory. It was in this moment of hubris and arrogance that Ghals Maraz began to glow brightly as Valten brought the skull splitter crashing down upon the hound´s head, banishing the creature back into the warp.

As his mount vanished, Arbaal was taken by surprise as he fell upon the floor. As he tried to hastily get back up from the blood soaked mud he looked up, up to Valten as Sigmar´s champion towered over his fallen foe before killing the undefeated once and for all, setting the warriors of chaos to flee in terror.

…..

⚫ Angry React: Valten´s steed rushed towards the foe, not needing even a single command from its master. With agility and grace it charged forth, dodging friend and foe, unhindered by the barding. As Sigmar´s champion rode, slaughtering any chaos warriors foolish enough to come upon his path he heard the terrifying howl as Arbaal began his approach, his mighty hound ripping brave men to shreds as it galloped for it´s master´s greatest prize.

As the fires of battle raged everywhere, both riders stopped before one another, stepping off their steeds. As champion of order stood before champion of Khorne, both readied their weapons as both their mounts stood behind their masters. Terrifying was the battle as it continued to rage for hours upon hours, Valten´s armor protecting him from the worst of the Khornate´s furious onslaught. As Arbaal snarled furiously, he struck again and again with the Destroyer of Khorne and as he did, he began to force Valten more and more into the defensive posture.

It was then that Khorne´s champion suddenly backhanded Valten, using the momentum he struck once more with his axe though only managing to tear a little wound across the side of hero´s neck instead of outright decapitating him. As he fell on his knees, clutching his bloodied neck he looked up from the floor, to his horror Ghal Maraz resting by Arbaal´s feet.

Shouldering his axe he looked down upon the Heldenhammer, then returned his piercing gaze back at his opponent, looking him straight in the eye. With a simply kick, he shoved the hammer forwards to Valten.

“If you are to die, die fighting to the very last. There is no honor in dying weaponless.”

Valten said nothing as he heavily got back up, as he continued to lose more and more blood, no matter how hard he pressed his hand upon the wound. Deciding to leave all caution to the wind, he grabbed his hammer with both hands again, intending to end this now or never. Alas, it was in vain as he was too weakened by the blood loss, too slow to strike as Arbaal the undefeated cut off the champion´s head with one quick, fell swoop.

As Valten fell, the last of the empire army´s resolve died with their hero. As most tried to flee, they were butchered like cattle. As his warriors rushed past him, Arbaal picked up both Ghal Maraz, taking the weapon for himself and keeping the slain hero´s dripping head as a trophy.

….

⚫ Sad react: As Valten tried to rally the men around him he saw it in every one of their faces… fear, hunger, despair. These men were defeated already but still stepped forward to meet their doom head on, inspired by their hero, inspired by Sigmar´s champion. Choosing to remain with his fellow soldiers instead of rushing off towards the approaching chaos Lord. 
Issuing commands, he ordered the death´s heads to form a defensive line with their halberds, hoping to stop Arbaal´s mount.
As wave after wave of chaos warriors clashed with the forces of the empire, Valten stood at the forefront, slaying more and more of them yet to no avail. There were too many of them, their resolve too strong with the presence of their leader.

“RESIST MEN! FOR SIGMAR! FOR THE EMPIRE! RESIST FOR ALL THAT IS HOLY TO YOU!”

And as the men yelled one more time some rushed beside him, the daemonic axe of Arbaal cutting deep into Valten´s shoulder as chaos lord´s hound tore effortlessly through the halberdiers. Blinded by his anger, Arbaal cut all around him, slaughtering all men in the vincinity, having broken through the line. Gasping hard in pain, he saw another wave of chaos chosen approaching. Gritting his teeth, he charged for Arbaal, trying to defeat the undefeated once and for all.

As he saw the man running for him, the undefeated dismounted his steed, nodding only slightly in admiration for this southerner´s resolve even in the face of certain annihilation. He grunted to himself, yes… this one would have the honor of a warrior´s death.

And after a short battle, Arbaal delivered the coup de grace, delivering an honorable death for the champion of Sigmar. Not that is was much worth for the soldiers of the empire as they tried to follow suit but were swatted away like annoying flies as death spread across the battlefield.

Many hours later, it began to rain, yet Arbaal still stood beside Valten´s corpse.

“You could have become such a mighty champion had you not been born a slave to a false god. Sad, I must say, for now the lands of the weakling empire await fire and death as I venture south to deliver such annihilation. Let your death become the founding stone for this world´s doom.”

And with that, Arbaal mounted his hound again, trotting to the distance, his armies marching forth to the sound of fire and rain.

…….

⚫ Wow React: Valten´s steed rushed towards the foe, not needing even a single command from its master. With agility and grace it charged forth, dodging friend and foe, unhindered by the barding. As Sigmar´s champion rode, slaughtering any chaos warriors foolish enough to come upon his path he heard the terrifying howl as Arbaal began his approach, his mighty hound ripping brave men to shreds as it galloped for it´s master´s greatest prize.

As the fires of battle raged everywhere and both champions of chaos and order were busy fighting each other, another fight was taking place. To be fair, not so much a fight if not a squabble that was taking place at the very borders of the battlefield. This squabble took the form of three halfling chefs huffing and puffing, red in the face as they ignored… yes, the reader heard correctly… IGNORED an apocalyptic battle as the yelled at each other whilst two steaming pots stood bubbling in the middle of them.

” I´m telling ye, Perkins, tha second one is the right one, ye ken?”

” Peeves, ya daft oaf, it is CLEAR that the left one is the right one and the one on the right is what the old goat cooked fer tea!”

” Ye ken, we could always just shoot both and…”

“SHUT UP, COLLIN!”, the aforementioned Perkins and Peeves snapped at the third, much younger chef.

As the discussion continued it was then decided that a coin toss should settle this once and for all. As Collins flipped the coin, both chefs began to bite their nails, not wishing for good stew to be lost, both wishing to sling the ACTUAL boiling pot of oil at the enemy before they could feel satisfied at having done something before tea. After a moment Peeves cursed to himself and Perkins cast a smug grin towards his colleague.

Meanwhile, the battle between Valten and Arbaal continued to rage when suddenly the Khornate managed to topple the champion of mankind off his steed. Confident, Arbaal got off his own steed.

“This is your end, mortal! Say your prayers!”

“After you, chaos scum!”

Valten took a step forward as he began to swing for the chaos warrior´s head before realizing too late that Arbaal´s axe was closer to slicing off his head before he could do anything buuut… before Valten fell into death´s embrace something big, round, black and boiling landed with a thud upon the Undefeated´s head. A second later, Arbaal´s head rolled away, still in the pot.

“Did I…. win? What?”, were Valten´s last words as another pot landed upon his back, knocking him unconscious.

In the distance if anyone tried to listen came the screams of two voices…

“COLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!”

……

⚫ Love React: With the battle raging all around them, Valten and Arbaal met in glorious slaughter. The undefeated bringing centuries of experience, Valten sporting the blessings of Sigmar. A godly man against an undefeated champion.
None able to retreat or run, none able to stop even if they wanted. 
It was Arbaal who kept striking again and again with the fury of Khorne, trying to overwhelm his enemy. Forced to concentrate himself fully upon his enemy. 
And as time went past, both combatant got weaker and weaker with each new wound they received. As time went past, both lost track of time and their surroundings, as if they never existed in the first place.

It was at this moment that Valten looked around and to his horror, saw that he was surrounded by the forces of chaos. 
The men of the empire had been slaughtered to the last man, all present now watching the battle of these two champions.
A howl echoed throughout the blood drenched battlefield as Valten finally managed to land a decisive blow on the chaos lord´s left arm, ripping it from the flesh and bone. 
Gritting his teeth the Undefeated swung out in fury for the Sigmarite´s side, embedding the destroyer deep into Valten´s ribs before another fell blow from Ghal Maraz finished him off for good, defeating the undefeated.

Nearly blinded with pain he looked around, knowing his death was inevitable. Gripping his hammer tightly, he smiled bitterly as the warriors of chaos began to approach him, daemonic weapons gleaming in the cloud ridden darkness.

“For…. Sigmar…”, he muttered his last words, hoping to his very soul that this would be worth the sacrifice.
As he lunged out, cleaving warrior after warrior he finally was overwhelmed, cut down by dozens upon dozens of followers of chaos.

The followers of chaos have lost a champion but humanity has lost one of its greatest protectors. What would the future tell after the death of such two champions?