The Hunt

King Glorian held on to his Deepmare as it raced across the Ghurish tar-flats. He was flanked by a dozen of his Akhelian cavalry, a small fraction of the phalanx that had set out from Laebrea. Even as they surged forward, the clangour of the Ironjaw horde grew ever louder behind them.

These were dark times for the Idoneth. Word of grim omens was filtering in from many enclaves, and the secluded Khaphtar were now pleading for help against the undead horrors that were awakening. Glorian looked to the riders beside him, then turned back to glance at the horde behind. There were thousands of greenskins, and more would surely come when they picked up the scent of battle. That was their way. He had learnt this when he first joined the ranks of the Akhelians. It seemed so long ago now, but he remembered well what he had been taught.

Never forget that those we hunt are dangerous. They are savage and strong, and their numbers are greater than ours. Caution and acuity: these must be our weapons, for to face our foes directly is to risk the souls of our kin.

Glorian heard a pained scream. He looked to the east and saw more riders from his scattered phalanx emerging through the withered trees. The rearmost was slumped forward on his Fangmora, black blood oozing from a gaping wound on his back. In his wake were several charging packs of orruks mounted on slavering gruntas. Glorian pulled on the reins of his Deepmare and veered westward, but even as he did so more brutish cavalry came crashing through the reeds in that direction. The Ironjawz were closing in.

We hunt the Ghurlands, for the souls there are strong. But we must be ever aware that predators abound on all sides.

‘Forwards!’ yelled Glorian as he dug his heels into his mount. The Deepmare was already at its limit, and the Fangmoras of his fellow Idoneth were strained to the point of breaking. But the spectral current was beginning to flow faster around the Akhelian King, and in the distance ahead he could see the mistveil created by the phantasmal magic of the ethersea. If they could make it to the mists, they would be safe.

Observe your prey. Discover their ways. See how they hunt and learn what hunts them. But let them be numb to your presence while you make your preparations.

From behind Glorian came a colossal roar. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a Maw-krusha bounding ahead of the greenskin horde. Atop it hunched the Megaboss Ragdrakka, wide-eyed with frenzy. The Akhelians to the east had almost joined the main group of Idoneth cavalry, but the Gore-gruntas were still close behind. Worse still, the boar-riding greenskins coming in from the west were threatening to cut ahead of Glorian and his warriors.

Be patient and do not commit until you are assured of your victory. Be the calm amongst the raging sea, the deep water that drags everything under.

‘Now!’ cried Glorian, his voice resounding above the din of bellowing orruks. The ethersea whipped around him with sudden fury, pulling him and his fellow Idoneth along in the torrent. The cavalry surged forwards and upwards, rising above the Gore-grunta packs that were crossing in front of them. The Ironjaw riders looked up in confusion as Glorian and his soldiers sailed over their heads. They were so distracted by the spectacle that they failed to notice that their own mounts were beginning to struggle in the thick, pitchy tar. The mistveil was now less than a spear’s throw away, and the Tidecasters within had their magic prepared.

Let the savagery of your prey become their downfall. Let them bluster into battle against the enemies before them, while we watch and wait for the time to strike.

Ragdrakka’s Maw-krusha dropped from the sky, landing with a loud splash in the tar ahead of Glorian. The Akhelian King reined in his Deepmare just in time to avoid a swipe from the monster’s massive fist. Two of his guard were not so lucky, and Glorian heard the crunch of bone as the brutal swing sent their mangled bodies flying. The Megaboss lashed out at a third Idoneth warrior, his cruel blade cleaving straight through the Akhelian and his Fangmora with a single strike.

‘Plunge them into the depths!’ commanded Glorian as he drew his greatsword.

While they fight the enemy they see, we move on them unseen. And when they think themselves the predators, we make them our prey.

There was a thunderous crack followed by a deep, gurgling moan. On all sides of Glorian, the trudging Ironjaw warriors started sinking further into the tar. Thousands of greenskins and their brutish mounts howled and thrashed as they were sucked below the surface, into the Realmgate beneath the tar that was now actively drawing them in. The Maw-krusha tried to wrench its claws free from the viscous substance, but it was already being pulled inexorably downward. Enraged, Ragdrakka launched himself from the thrashing beast’s head, raising his choppa as he arced through the air towards Glorian. The Akhelian King watched as his foe sailed closer, waiting for the right moment before thrusting his greatsword forwards.

They will fight amongst each other. They will kill and be killed. They will think themselves mighty, but they will be blind to that which is coming.

The blade stabbed into green flesh, slicing up through Ragdrakka’s cheek and gouging out his right eye. The Megaboss bellowed in pain and anger. It was not a killing blow, but it was enough to send him tumbling through the air to land with a splat in the tar bellow. He continued to howl as he was dragged under by the black gloop, along with his Maw-krusha and the entirety of his barbaric horde. Floating above the surface on the ethersea currents, the Akhelian King and his cavalry waited patiently while their enemies descended into blackness.

An enemy distracted makes easy prey. When their attention is elsewhere, only then do we reveal ourselves.

Glorian watched the last bubbles pop on the surface of the tar-flats. The Tidecasters had done their part well, and those Idoneth who had died would be mourned in time. Others of the phalanx would be arriving soon with their own greenskin hordes in chase. The brutish tribes of Ghur would go anywhere for a battle – this Glorian had learnt a long time ago – and they would find plenty of enemies at the Realmgate’s other end. It would take them directly to the borders of Nagashizzar, where the dead were amassing in numbers beyond counting. There, the greenskins would do what they do. They would attack, they would fight, and they would provide a crucial distraction.

An enemy distracted makes for easy prey, and when Nagash’s attention was elsewhere, the Idoneth would strike.

PRODUCED BY GAMES WORKSHOP IN NOTTINGHAM

The Hunt© Copyright Games Workshop Limited 2018. The Hunt, Malign Portents, GW, Games Workshop, Warhammer, Stormcast Eternals, and all associated logos, illustrations, images, names, creatures, races, vehicles, locations, weapons, characters, and the distinctive likenesses thereof, are either ® or TM, and/or © Games Workshop Limited, variably registered around the world. All Rights Reserved.

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