As the Dwarfs and Undead fought for the fate of Karaz-a-Karak, many other Dwarf holds were signalled for aid in ridding any further vampiric invaders within the Karaz Ankor. However, one hold in particular never answered the call on account of a terrible danger which befell them; Karak Kadrin, the Slayer Keep.
Home to the Slayer King himself, Ungrim Ironfist has spent decades vanquishing enemies from the Karaz Ankor but this, this was something he had never seen before. His son and fellow slayer, Garagrim Ironfist had been taken ill while returning from a quest to kill a chaos giant and his symptoms had only worsened since then. Sensing imminent danger, Ungrim sent word for Grombrindal the White Dwarf, a man who had seemingly seen everything in his time and so may have seen this illness before.
Upon receiving his friend’s call for aid, Grombrindal and Malekith abandoned their current quest to avenge a Dwarf princess whose beard was removed by pirates and allowed the mists to carry them to Karak Kadrin.
Grombrindal arrived at the courtyard before the great gates to Karak Kadrin at the end of the bridge entrance to the keep. The gates opened and Ungrim walked through
Ungrim: “Snorri, so glad ye could come. Thank ya for yer speedy arrival.”
Grombrindal: “Of course Ungrim, anythin’ for a friend.”
However, the warm greeting between the Dwarfs Kings were put to an end when Malekith materialised from the mists as well.
Ungrim: “By the gods! Guards! Guards! We have an intruder! Destroy that monster!”
A whole pack of slayers emerged from the gates and charged towards Malekith only for Grombrindal to block their path.
Grombrindal: “Stand down slayers, he’s with me.”
Ungrim: “Have ya gon’ mad Snorri? That man is an enemy to ar’ kin and wait, he’s dead?”
Grombrindal: “Not anymore Ungrim. He’s serving a redemption sentence with me now.”
Ungrim: “I cannot let this monster enter me keep, I’m sorry but I just can’t.”
Grombrindal: “Then we will be off.”
Grombrindal turned as a cloud of fog descended on him and Malekith.
Ungrim: “Wait! Please, me son needs yer help.”
Grombrindal: “Then bring us to him.”
Ungrim Ironfist escorted the White Dwarf and the former Witch King of Naggaroth with a squad of slayer guards at their back through the tunnels deep into the halls of Karak Kadrin until finally, they reached a grovel of weeds and vines carved into the side of a mining tunnel. Ungrim motioned for them to enter through the vined entrance at which point they found themselves in a shrine devoted to Valaya, the Dwarf goddess of healing and brewing, with Garagrim Ironfist lying on its altar. The Dwarf kings and elf approached Garagrim, whose hide had turned the colour of pinewood while his veins were highlighted in an olive green shade.
Grombrindal: “By the gods what happened to him?”
Ungrim: “None of us are sure how ‘e contracted the infection, whether it was caught while on campaign or at one of the inns while travelling home is beyond our scope of knowledge.”
Grombrindal: “And the symptoms?”
Ungrim: “According to his companions, the first symptoms ‘ere similar to those of common diseases; nausea, pain in the joints and belly, and so forth. None of them took much notice of it so did not signal alarm…. that was before the maggots set in of course.”
Grombrindal: “Maggots?”
Ungrim pointed to his son’s ears which curiously had been sealed up by corks, only to remove the cork from the left ear and reveal a whole chewing of maggots as some fell out onto the altar.
Ungrim: “We….we believe these maggots have somehow hijacked his bloodstream, and have used that nourishment to multiply across his body. He is bein’ eaten from the inside out. Please Snorri, tell me you know what to do.”
Grombrindal: “I’m sorry Ungrim, but I am as clueless as you are.”
Ungrim: “Then…then my son is doomed.”
Malekith, who had remained silent and stood by the door suddenly interjected.
Malekith: “I have seen this plague before.”
Grombrindal: “Can ye tell us anythin’ about it then?”
Malekith: “It is known as Gods’ Rot, a plague first stewed into existence in the garden of the Urfather but later fell out of his hands and was used by his enemies. Egrimm van Horstmann developed a passion for this contagion in particular and unleashed it into the streets of Altdorf as a means to quarantine certain areas of the city and mark certain opponents of his for death. Van Horstmann is gone now but his legacy lives on through his twisted cabal. After being banished from Imperial lands, the cabal travelled through the Northern wastes and eventually arrived in Naggaroth. My assassins attempted to keep their infiltration at bay from entering our lands but eventually they struck, infecting the Drachau of the Deadwood region with this malaise.”
Ungrim: “But ye stopped it then?”
Malekith: “I did.”
Grombrindal: “How?”
Malekith: “The plague spread across the Drachau’s family, killing each one after another until finally, all that was left was a sickly grandson so I killed him.”
Ungrim: “So ye are saying that my son has to die?”
Malekith: No, not quite. I made an error the first time, assuming it was a simple pathogen but this was so much more than that. Gods’ Rot is a thought-based plague that manifests in three stages. First, nausea and joint pains but these are only masking fazes for the true disease for while these take place, the plague spawns millions of maggot eggs within the body. Secondly, the maggots hatch and begin to feed on the body, all while the plague itself latches onto the host’s brain, allowing the plague full access to the conscious areas of the brain from which it can target everyone that the host has perceived for further contamination. Finally, the maggots grow weary of one meal and so the rot develops through the host’s entrails, causing the victim to endure great pain while the disease slowly makes its way to the chest, causing many organs to fail in the process until the heart itself rots away. Of course, that is the exact time in which loved ones may attempt to soothe the victim only for the plague to spread to them too.”
Grombrindal: “So what did you do to stop it from spreading?”
Malekith: “Nothing originally. I thought that by killing the boy I would have ended the spread of the disease. Instead, the maggots inside only grew anxious and left his body in search of the people who had treated him. Within 4 days I had to return to the city at which point it had been infected in its entirety. And so I made the choice to freeze the city, keeping all the infected and the plague itself locked inside for eternity.”
Ungrim: “You froze an entire city? Nah, I don’t believe this monster. Pointy-ears always talk big of their achievements.”
Malekith: “I may be an elf, but never mistake me for reflecting their insignificance. Go, ask a survivor of Har Kaldra how seriously I took my rule. It will take you a while to find any.”
*Ungrim maintained a look of dread as Malekith continued to speak*
“My point is that if your boy were simply to die it would only increase the speed at which the plague spreads, That is why it was used for assassinations and quarantining by the Disciples of Tzeentch, they knew no one would dare treat the infected. It’s actually better if he kept breathing, if his brain just keeps going but giving others…. nothing. That would blot out the rot’s ability to sense its neighbours.”
Ungrim: “What would be left of m’ boy?”
Malekith: “He would be nothing. A fool to all. He couldn’t even make court jester.”
Grombrindal suddenly ran up to Malekith, shoving him away from Ungrim.
Grombrindal: “Even if tha’ is righ’, I feel shame for ye suggesting it. Clearly, there is no change, no point. We don’ trade lives like tha’. It’s wrong, it’s cowardly.”
*A feint sound of laughter could be heard beneath Malekith’s armour*
Malekith: “Back when I was king I would burn an entire city to the ground just to give my brides a backdrop to dance to. I’m sorry your friend’s welp doesn’t get the best odds, but whether you like it or not, I just suggested this because I am trying to change.”
*Malekith raised his tone so everyone could overhear him*
Malekith: “Your version of morality is not absolute truth, Snorri. It is vain, preachy and above all sentimental…and if you are waiting for me to become like that, you are a fool who will have me tied to your side for a long time yet.”
Grombrindal: “Perhaps I am a fool for still believing in you Malekith….but I do. Think on that my friend.”
Ungrim: “There has to be anothe’ way. Snorri?”
Grombrindal: “Well….ah… Malekith said this plague was used in Altdorf so we could call for an Imperial doctor?”
Malekith: “And how would you transport that doctor through the vampiric raids in these lands?”
Grombrindal: “Aye, I could use the mist to transport ’em here.”
Ungrim: “But surely the disease’s medical records will have been destroyed during the Greenskins attack?”
Grombrindal: “Aye, you ar’ right. But wait a second, we are standing in a grove to Valaya. We can pray to her for salvation!”
Malekith: “Are you insane? This plague was forged in the gardens of the Plague God, an entity even greater than most Elven gods let alone your impotent stunted deities.”
Grombrindal: “Well, we have to try somethin’!”
How will they proceed?
….

• Wow React: As the two Dwarf kings continued to bicker, Malekith suddenly unsheathed his blade and thrust it straight through Garagrim’s chest.

Grombrindal: “What ar’ ya doing?!!”
Malekith: “Saving all your lives!”
Malekith pressed on, removing the sword and plunging his armoured fist into the wound to ignite a burning spell from inside Garagrim’s body. The fire coursed through Garagrim’s body, wiping out maggots in their millions before finally incinerating the entire shell.
As Ungrim watched in anger as his son burst into flames by the hands of an elf, Grombrindal could only ask “What have ye done Malekith?” in exasperation as he stood aside for Ungrim to attack….
….

• Sad React: Grombrindal and Ungrim spoke for some time before Malekith decided the time had come.

Malekith strode up to Garagrim’s body and proceeded to cast his debilitating ritual while Ungrim attempted to charge at Malekith only to be held back by Grombrindal. Ungrim struggled to break free of Grombrindal’s grasp, shouting for Snorri go let go of him and screaming for his guards to come to his aid at the top of his lungs.
Finally, Ungrim broke free just as an entire platoon of slayers arrived to his side but it was too late. Malekith has drained Ungrim’s son of all mental activity.
Grombrindal: “I’m sorry ol’ friend, but ther’ was no other way.”
Ungrim seethed in absolute rage as he lifted his axe and beckoned his guards in to kill the two intruders who had slain his son….
….

• Love React: Malekith stood back as Grombrindal and Ungrim called in a group of holy men and women to pray to the Valaya while providing offerings of beer and meat to the Goddess. After almost 3 hours of praying and laying offerings, a miracle struck and wiped all of the rot from Garagrim’s body. Somehow, he had been saved.

(As this is a literal Deus Ex Machina and therefore a rare and unlikely event, each vote for this option only equals half an equivalent vote for other options) ….

• Angry React: The Dwarf kings bickered for so long that the plague took control and began to spread. Ungrim fell ill just as his son lay dyin and Grombrindal attempted to cure Ungrim only to get infected himself. Eventually, the plague spread across the entirety of the Slayer Keep and in one valiant effort to prevent its spread from there, the remaining officers demanded that the single bridge leading in & out of the city be destroyed to prevent dwarfs from freeing and spreading the virus further.

….

• Laugh React: As the Dwarf kings continued to bicker, everyone in the room was suddenly shocked when Garagrim rose to his feet, as his sedatives had worn off, and reached for Malekith’s sword known as the Destroyer. Malekith reacted, pulling the sword away as Garagrim reached for his twin pair of axes and proceeded to swing at Malekith with them. Malekith continued to evade the slayer prince’s swings but the dwarf grew faster and faster in his movements despite his illness. Ungrim and Grombrindal looked on in shock, horrified by the battle until the truth dawned on Ungrim Ironfist. This was not a fight, it was a suicide! For Garagrim did not truly believe he could defeat the Witch King in open combat yet if he did do so an old grudge would be settled and if he failed to do so, the plague may finally be stopped.

However, even though Ungrim saw through Garagrim’s plan, that did not mean he was able to prevent it as the Dwarf became more and more vicious, slashing at Malekith’s Armour of Midnight and even carving runes into the walls of the grove with his dual Axes of Kadrin until finally, the inner darkness in Malekith rose up and glided his sword straight into Garagrim’s chest. Malekith awoke from his momentary haze but it was too late, all it had taken was a spark of anger for Malekith to lose control.Having killed the Slayer Prince, Malekith proceeded to cast the ritual on his body to prevent the plague from spreading but all had been for nought all the same. Garagrim Ironfist was dead and the legacy of Karak Kadrin would die with him.Ungrim stood in total sensory collapse as he watched his son be stabbed and burnt right before his eyes before he began bellowing like a mad dog at the White Dwarf and the former Witch King, yelling for them to “Get out!” and to never return so long as they wished to keep their heads.