Solving the Inpenetrable Complex
Everything was going wrong. The siege was going nowhere. Ghungus and his leaders knew it. The Tzeentch Arcanites repulsing the attackers knew it. The only ones ignorant of the horrible situation were the warriors of the Dirt Brigade. Honorable as their eagerness was to fight for their god Burgle, Ghungus knew honor couldn’t protect them from glaives and the magics of the Changer of Ways.
It was day 21 of the siege, yet the Impenetrable Complex had lived up to its name. The defenders of the pile of sticks that Ghungus referred to had driven back every attempt to breakthrough.
Diseased heads meant to spread plague inside the walls were incinerated each time by bluish warpfire. Daemonic tentacles and arms seized the legs of charging warriors yards from the walls, leaving them vulnerable for the defenders to pick off. Siege towers were obliterated by powerful arcane bolts from one of the sorcerers. Ulcerius’ aerial assault had almost forced a breakthrough, but the defenders managed to regain the battlements before the Order of Rot could breakthrough. Even Nurgle’s daemonic reinforcements had been thwarted with Tzeentch’s own daemonic hordes.
Ghungus was running out of options and resources. As another band of warriors was swallowed by an unseen pith with voracious teeth, Ponsey stepped forth with his observations.
“Oh dear, another band has fallen into another Tzeentchian trap. That Cursling continues to outwit you, my lord. Ghungus took an exhausted breath. “If not for the truth of our predicament smacking us in the face over and over, I’d love nothing more than using you to batter the walls myself.” “My lord, all that would accomplish is breaking my body and painting the wood red, and maybe dislodge some splinters.” Ghungus chuckled. Some dark humor was needed, even from his annoying squire. He turned to him. “Regardless if you’d make a better battering ram than a squire, we must press on. We still have more than enough to crush these vile tricksters and their fell magics. Our pustulent resilience will persevere and our might will crush these weaklings. There will be no quarter for anyone inside-”"A spell just missed Ghungus as it shot past into a nearby tree and melted it. The Blightlord turned to the settlement to see the Cursling Krucius wave his hand.
He shouted out “Keep monologuing you bloated buffoon. It will make it easier for me to hit you next time.” Enraged, Ghungus stormed forward as Ponsey tried to grab and hold him. “I haven’t even begun to fight you pompous scum. Come down from your stupid pointy sticks and fight me honorably to prove your point!” The sorceress Morbisa, Ulcerius, and another blightking approached. “Forgive the interruption Ghungus, but the preparations are finished. Vyrraki hungers and is in a vile mood. She’s ready for the next assault,” said Morbisa. “You may not get another chance like this here so make it count.” “My fly knights are ready for our part as well,” said Ulcerius. “We will bring death and glorious rot to all those inside the walls.” “And my fellow blightkings are ready to do our part,” said Ser Cholerium Filthfinger. “The daemonic surprise is also ready to be unleashed. They just wait for the signal.” The good news refocused his spirits and energized Ghungus. He stepped back to rejoin his leaders. “Excellent. Let the halls of Mukkenmire and all who recite this battle know that today, on the 21st day of besieging this blasted place, the Order of Rot utterly conquered and solved the Impenetrable Complex. Their best efforts were for naught as our-” Another arcane bolt just missed Ghungus and the leaders and melted a squire nearby. “Noooo my squire! I actually liked that one!” shouted Thrombule the Poxbrume. “I’ll have that sorcerer’s head!” “He’s mine Thrombule. You can have your turn when he’s dead!” said Ghungus. “It’s time to end this once and for all.”
It had been hours since the Rotbringers assaulted the settlement. Once more the Arcanties were undaunted by the plague-ridden attackers.
Twas a fine feat, thought Krucius. His command was impeccable and defenses flawless. No one could truly challenge his wit and powers.
At some point, the Nurgle host would wear itself out and his host would finish them off. It was only a matter of time. He had foreseen this possibility and ensured its fulfillment.
Why not take a quick rest now? His Arcanites said the Rotbringers were regrouping for another assault. It would fail like the rest. They had no idea what the Disciples of Tzeentch had in store for them yet.
Krucius sat inside his command tent drinking a fine drink taken from some aelf traders across the river. They were of an unknown origin. Not of Hysh, Ulgu nor of high Azyr. They were just part of the great mystery that the Lost Archipelago presented. Whatever lay ahead, this region laid outside the reach of the Great Deceiver, and he felt it was his duty to spread his influence.
One of his Tzaangors entered the tent.
“Sire, the Rotbringers prepare to assault the southern part of the Complex.” “Bah, let them try. There’s nothing but the shoreline and sand. It will be like shooting duardin in quicksand,” said Krucius. “We’ve also spotted rotflys circling near the western river. They tried to test our defenses but we warded them off. We believe they are preparing for another aerial assault along the southern battlements.” “Hmm not surprising. Gather your avian kin and follow them. Keep them at a distance. The moment they get close, unleash hell.” “Yes sire.” The beastman departed to carry out his lord’s orders. “This is too easy. Why not challenge me Tzeentch with a worthy foe? There is no challenge here,” bragged Krucius as he continued to slowly sip his wine and rested.
Minutes later, a commotion began building outside his tent. At first, he thought the enemy was attacking outside the walls. But he soon realized it was coming from inside the settlement. Krucius put his glass down on the table in front of him and went to the tent flap.
Chaos, pure chaos was breaking out. Fires were lit inside the Complex. Weapons were missing along the walls, and materials were scattered all around. Krucius looked around trying to identify the cause of the commotion. What had broken his silence, let alone attempt to undo his well-laid plans?
He spotted Kairoc Acolytes and mortal warriors stomping their feet and try to pull small critters…
No, Nurglings. The puny daemons of Nurgle were inside the walls. And they were everywhere. Hundreds of them.
Glass shattered behind them and Krucius turned to see dozens of Nurglings fighting over his belongings. He blasted them back to the Nurgle’s Garden, then ran outside to install order.
How had he missed this? Where did they come from? Why did no one spot these embarrassing creatures?
“The walls! Man the walls! They’re coming!” shouted one of the Acolytes.
A horde of blightkings led by a large warrior with pink inflamed skin charged forth carrying crude ladders. They had used the chaos inside to avoid any traps that lie in wait. Now they prepared to storm the battlements or break through the wall. Krucius climbed on top to guide his warriors and defend his settlement. He would not let these bloated scum embarrass him. He blasted one blightking in the face with warpfire, then parried another strike before pushing the overcommitted Rotbringer over the wall into the pit of spikes below.
Out of the corner of his eye, Krucius saw the enflamed blightking climb the ladder onto the wall. The Cursling expected his challenge, but instead, the Nurgle warrior stuck his hand inside his open belly. He pulled out a Nurgling covered in guts and puss, then throw it down into the courtyard. Krucius ignored the move and charged the blightking. The warrior pulled out his weapons and clashed with the sorcerer. They exchanged several blows before Krucius got the upper hand. The defenders appeared to be regaining control of the wall, and the nurglings were being snuffed out below by other daemons and mortals below.
“Bah, you Rotbringers don’t know when you’re beaten. Just surrender and accept the Changer of Ways as your new overlord,” declared Krucius. “Clearly you don’t recognize your own downfall. It starts with one small mistake....” said Cholerium nodding at the nurgling he tossed, “...and grows until its colossal.”
Krucius was confused and didn’t understand what the warrior meant. He chose to lop off his arm while he wasn’t paying attention and knocked him on his back. The Cursling then impaled his staff into the prone blightking, channeled his magic through his staff, and incinerated Chlorerium’s innards. When he stopped moving, Krucius turned to find that Nurgling he referenced. He spotted it, still covered in gore, as it burrowed into the earth, its puny legs sticking out.
There had been something peculiar about that one, but he couldn’t...
The earth began to rumble and grew more violent by the second. Suddenly, a massive wurm shot out of the earth, its roar deafening the air as broken earth splattered everywhere. It slammed into the ground, crushing any unfortunate Arcanites underneath, and filled most of the courtyard with its bulk. It screamed as a blade, no, a scythe, pierced its skin, but it came from inside. Two more did the same, creating three openings like a fish’s gill.
Out came the Rotbringers and their leader, Ghungus Slugkiln.
The Impenetrable Complex had been breached.
Once inside the walls, it was over. The settlement now belonged to the Maggotkin of Nurgle. Among the spoils of war were a countless number of prisoners, including the Tzeentian defenders and local villagers. Too many captives would burden most traveling armies, but the Rotbringers were nothing if not resourceful.
Whoever didn’t accept the Great Grandfather’s blessing were either sacrificed in his name, fed to the voracious Vyrraki, or prepared to be used in the cultivation of corpse orchards. Others were saved for a more sinister partaking, including the Cursling Krucius. Ghungus had something atrocious planned for the sorcerer.
“How...how did you do it?” asked Krucius, his head the only thing standing above the ground he was buried in. “How did you solve the Impenetrable Complex? All my carefully laid defenses. My legions of mortals and daemons. My spells. Tell me, you bloated oaf.”
The sorcerer was planted in the center of the ruined settlement that the Rotbringers had painstakingly ground up in days to recreate an orchard. Whatever materials weren’t destroyed were deconstructed and set aside. The Rotbringers had something planned for their own settlement, and Ghungus would make sure Krucius was there to take part in its growth.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Krucius?” spoke Ghungus. “You’d like nothing more than for me to take you step by step into how we beat you and cracked your little pile of sticks, eh? I’m sure you’d like that so you couldn’t miss with whatever spell you could conjure.” “Nothing more would be satisfying before my death, but I fear the stench of your host alone would kill me before you ran out of breath speaking,” said Krucius. Ghungus laughed heartedly before continuing. “Ah, a good one Cursling. The scribes will note your witty humor when they recall this battle and speak of how such a tiny detail undid the Impenetrable Complex.” “What?” said the Cursling. “What do you speak of that I missed?” “It’s matters not, yet isn’t it curious how all the best defenses sometimes ignore such simple things like residue? With so many people inside a holding, where does all that waste go? Cities of the Hammer God use these things called sewers to take care of their excrement, where foul things like the ratmen lurk unbeknownst. Even smaller fortifications like yours compromise the issue with a tiny tube that leads to the river. Oh sure, too big for a noble warrior of Nurgle to traverse, let along a ratman, but for a small and innocent infant of the Great Grandfather, anything is possible.” “The outhouses!? But that’s…” stated Krucius before Ghungus being cut off. “Disgusting? Well depends on how you see it. I view it as a means to an end. And your end isn’t here, just yet.” “Just get it over with.” “Oh no, we have something special for you. Because you’ve given us the foundation for our new Order hall. From which, our pox-crusade shall march forth and conquer these lands.” “You have no idea what’s in store for you. Hidden knowledge lies here, and a pocket realm that’s teaming with-” “Yes, Yes, horrible dangers, unknown challenges, and rewards of unfathomable potential. And you’d like to be part of it, Krucius. And you will,” said Ghungus with a hidden smile.
He nodded, and Morbisa the Grubhearted approached with a vile filled with a sickly green liquid. Krucius began to squirm as he noticed something moving inside.
“Nurgle, we honor you with the Cycle of Decay. From death, to rot, to plentiful fecundity, so turns the endless circle,” said the sorceress. “This filthless unbeliever will become the root of our putrid dominion over these lands.”
She stepped forward and forced the liquid down the Cursling’s throat. It took a bit for the concoction to run through his body, but it wasn’t long before Krucius began convulsing.
“What... is...happening…” the dying sorcerer said. He could feel something begin to move and grow inside his body. “The blessings of Nurgle are taking root inside you,” said Morbisa as she signaled other Rotbringers to bury him alive. “Don’t fret sorcerer. Death is just the beginning of your suffering.”Krucius felt his limbs tremble and begin to expand as the dirt buried his final living moments.
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