Grot-skaven alliance struggles with the Blood Coast Alliance

The Battle of Alra’Sekh

The sun rose above the desolate ruins of the ancient city of Alra’Sekh in the forgotten desert in the southern lands of Permenia. The ruins of the city had long been left untouched. It was once a great city of an ancient race, before it fell foul to treachery or war. Countless treasures remained to be unearthed, guarded by curses and tomb labyrinthine structures. The city was truly lifeless, but this quickly changed. 

The Sylvaneth of Alarielle had arrived to the city, ordered by the Goddess herself to explore the ruins and find any magical artefacts that could be of use to them. All was going well, but the Sylvaneth weren’t the only ones who had been drawn to the ruins. Giant treelords and dryads were heaving stone away from the entrance to a crypt when the ground started to shake. The earth began to collapse in a few different spots, forming sinkholes that glowed green and crackled with fell energy. From these holes emerged Skaven drill teams followed by hordes of chittering ratmen and towering warp lightning war machines. The ratmen had not expected company but had clearly prepared for the worst. Last out of the gnawholes was the infamous arch warlock himself, Skreek the Deranged. The arch warlock was joined by his cohort of warlock engineers, who gave him worried looks clearly brought about by the host of Sylvaneth that stood before them.

‘Tree-things your crazy-mad excellency…’ One of the warlocks relayed to Skreek. Concern laced his voice. Skreek slapped the warlock with his heavy claw, dazing his minion and causing them to whimper backwards. Skreek strode to his stricken underling.

‘Tree-things?! TREE-THINGS?! Nothing will stop me taking my shinies from this old-ancient place. NOTHING.’ Skreek quickly composed himself. He was often prone to wild mood swings and his poor minions would often bear the brunt of it. ‘See to it that the tree-things are burned. Tell the lightning-shock artillery. NOW!’

Y-yes your malevolence.’ The minion quickly fled from Skeek to relay the information to the weapon teams. They had already began setting up the cannons when he arrived to tell them. The Sylvaneth horde was still a distance away but had clearly noticed their presence. The treelords dropped the stones they were carrying and stomped over to the frontline that had formed. The branch wraiths quickly sprang into action. They whispered their life-giving spells, weaving the energies together into their useful forms. Suddenly decrepit, gnarly trees shot up out of the ground and grew rapidly towards the sky, forming a barrier between the Skaven and the Sylvaneth. This barrier would not be enough to hold a certain being of legend however. Drycha herself had been tasked by Allarielle to oversee the excavation. Chaos in any form was enough to fill Drycha with an unquenchable, uncontrollable rage. She stormed through the barrier, striding effortlessly through the twisted branches of the trees that had been grown moments earlier. She then broke through the braken and faced down the line of ratmen before her. Unfortunately however she had not foreseen that the warp-lightning cannons of the mad arch warlock had fully powered up. The cannon crews, noticing her break out of the barrier quickly brought the cannons to bear onto Drycha. For a moment there was silence. And then, Skreek lowered his halberd and shouted at the top of his small lungs, ‘FIRE!’

The air was filled with the sound of the cannons powering up, reaching an ear-splitting level before they erupted into a colossal bolt of pure warp energy, soaring through the air with incredible speed. Drycha did not have time to react as the bolts of energy smashed right into her, searing great holes into her body and flinging her backwards with incredible force. A group of Kurnoth hunters quickly arrived to find Drycha crumpled into a flaming heap on the ground. Only Alarielle was powerful enough to heal such grievous wounds. The Kurnoth hunters picked up the smouldering remains of Drycha and returned to the front line. Once the remains of Drycha had been carried through, all hell broke loose. The site of such a prominent figure being carried through in her condition caused the anger of the Sylvaneth to boil over. The Skaven would have to pay dearly for what they did. Dryads, Kurnoth hunters and treelord ancients burst forth from the barrier with incredible speed, charging straight at the Skaven frontline. Skreek picked up his trusty monocular to assess the situation. He was met with the sight of countless tree-folk thundering towards them. The natural cowardice in Skreek came out at such a sight. It was clearly time to leave.

‘We must hurry-go now. Leave the rat-filth to their fate.’ Said Skreek with a snarl of anger. They had come so close to obtaining magical artefacts, ones which could aid them in their fights to come. The council then scrambled back into the gnawhole from whence they came. This venture had given Skreek the opportunity to come face to face with the enemy. From his observations he concluded that the Sylvaneth would prove to be a foe to avoid where possible. At least for now.