War of the Shrine: The Final Turn

All over the field the lesser enemies were being destroyed even as atop the pyramid, Sigvald dealt the death blow to the Dwarf Standard Bearer.

Throwing the flag down contemptuously, he sought other foes to face.

Spying a few Goblin Heroes, he motioned them to ascend the shrine to battle him, which they did even as on the field below, the Chaos Warriors crashed into the Night Goblin Netters.



As the Savage orcs began to fall in droves, their weapons no match for the armor of the Chosen and their armor no match for the strength and skill of the Chosen, the field below broke into numerous individual duels.

Northman wizards sought out Orc and Goblin shamans, seeking to achieve by force of arms the magical dominance they had proved unable to achieve through mystic might.

Varangia and Alaquippa sought each other out. Seeing what they were seeking...a mighty foe worthy of their might...they crashed together with a fury that frightened even battle hardened warriors nearby.

Even as they clashed, their respective standard bearers came together.



Slowly the sounds of battle began to die as the last enemy unit, the hapless Night Goblin Netters, fought their last few hopeless moments against the skilled Warriors of the North.

And then there was but one battle. Oh, this was a fight for the ages. Alaquippa and Varangia were men among boys as mighty blows dented shields, shattered swords, broke apart helmets.

Each was bleeding from numerous cuts, but neither could gain the upper hand. Their fight tore through the last pockets where the men of the North were mopping up survivors, heedless of damage caused to men from either side.

It rampaged up one side of the shrine and down the other.

Varangia smiled a feral smile and saluted Alaquippa with his blood-spattered sword, Silverslash. "At last, a worthy foe."

Alaquippa licked Varangia's blood from the tip of his own blade, which he had never bothered to name. "Yes, had only I found you earlier, my Waaaaggghhh would have been even mightier."

Their mounts snarled in anger. Enough talk, let us get back to battling! The message of their snarls was clear.

For sheer, brute strength, Alaquippa had the advantage. Many times Varangia had Silverslash there to take the blow but the sheer power of Alaquippa punched through it to bring forth spurts of blood from Varangia.

By contrast, Varangia was far quicker and often able to score touches on Alaquippa that, while not lethal, nevertheless had him bleeding from dozens, perhaps hundreds of cuts.

Long after all other fighting had ceased, these two mighty warriors dueled until Alaquippa proved just a hair to slow. He looked down at Silverslash protruding from his chest.

Blood dribbling from his mouth, he looked at his conqueror and smiled. "Well...well thought, warrior. Have me remembered in your songs."

As he slumped down, Varangia carefully removed Silverslash. "That I will. Though most likely you bleed to death, I leave you alive that perhaps you might recover and we can fight again. Farewell, Alaquippa."

Without another word, he turned and rode off to see how Prince Chrysolopsis had fared.