Demise of the Doom Wheel

In a final, desperate surge, Rory swung his weapon in a mighty arc. The impact sent the warlord’s body soaring upward like a ragdoll caught in a storm—and inadvertently triggered a hidden mechanism within the death wheel. A furious bolt of lightning burst forth, blasting the corpse into oblivion and sealing the creature’s fate, a panel simultaneously opened dumping thousands of gold coins across the ground.
 
With the death of the Skaven warlord, the doom wheel shuddered violently, its pulsing green energy sputtering and finally fading until it ground to a halt. For a long, breathless moment, silence reigned amid the ruin and smoldering wreckage. The cavern was strewn with shards of broken metal and scorched stone.
 
Slowly, we gathered ourselves amid the devastation.
 
I turned to Rory, my tone stern yet laced with genuine concern. “You must not fly off without a plan, Rory. Stay with the group when pursuing an enemy—we cannot afford reckless abandon.”
 
His eyes, still smoldering with residual fury, met mine as he replied in a low, measured tone, “I never expected skaven to swarm out of the stone like insects.”, nodding I said, “that is exactly why we must proceed strategically.” His response was a silent promise of caution.
 
As we tended to our wounds and gathered the fallen, we took a brief moment to plan our next move. The cavern bore grim testimony to our struggle—the walls scarred by lightning, the floor littered with debris and shattered bodies and weapons. The battle was won—for now—but the war still loomed ahead. Each of us, battered yet unbowed. And so, as the echoes of our fierce confrontation faded into the cavern’s depths, amid the lingering echoes of thunder and the bitter scent of victory, I knew our path forward would demand every ounce of our strength, cunning, and unity.