Tunnel Wars-Hrearden

War was brewing, attacks by the revolting hordes of Clan Keequius were mounting and the precious Ur-Gold mines of Avizarr were under threat. In a reckless bid to claim the victory - and more importantly, the spoils - Clawlord Nelkeet had driven forth his verminous hordes into the tunnels of the fyreslayers before the other Clawlords of Clan Keequius had gathered their filth-ridden warriors.

The mines soon echoed and roared as the stone was rent and torn by clattering warpstone machines and skaven hordes burst from the jagged holes. They poured into the lower reaches of Avizarr running amok in the tunnels yet they were dangerously delayed, the miners working in the tunnels proved more of a match for the vermin than they had expected and their valiant resistance bought time for the defense to be organized. The alarm was raised and the bells of Avizarr rang out, tolling out a reverberating summons and mustering the Hearthguard fyrds.

Sent deep into the lower reaches of the mines Karl Derranar and his fyrd engaged the skaven with a withering hail of magmapike fire, burning through the massed ranks of skaven and sending them into a chittering madness of fear and fury. But the horde pushed through the rain of fire, and the rats closed in. Across the cavern, armored stormvermin dueled with dwarven berserkers and the clash of steel rang through the mines. For now the duardin held strong, but rusted blades began to find purchase in their target's flesh. Underhanded blows sneaking beneath the guard of the beleaguered fyreslayers. Yet in return magmapikes roared out their fiery bolts, and in the tightly packed melee flamestrike poleaxes carved through fur, flesh and bone even as their chained braziers whipped around shattering bones and setting fires in vermin flesh.

Yet pushed on by weight of numbers the skaven broke through the fyreslayers line and the battle devolved into a sprawling melee. Soon the fyreslayers were spread across the dimly lit cavern pockets of resistance fighting axe to dagger against nearly twice their number of Skaven. In the midst of this chaos Derranar dueled a black-furred skaven. Trading blows between his ornate magmapike and the vicious halberd of his opponent until with a flash of orange light, a molten rockbolt burned a smoking hole through the layers of iron, fur and flesh.

With the terrified, chittering death throes of their black-furred leader echoing throughout the tunnels, the rat-men started to panic. The musk of fear filled the cavern and the survivors ran, leaderless and terrified, routed before the wrath of the fyreslayers. Back through their tunnel, they fled, disappearing into the darkness.

In the now empty cavern stood Derranar and his fyreslayers, surrounded by the bloodied and broken bodies of many skaven and to his mind, far too many of his kin. Yet in what should have been a resounding victory something wasn’t right. The carts of gold they had been sent to the mines to defend were broken and empty, their shining cargo gone. Derranar cursed, the skaven had been slaughtered, but they had failed in their true objective and they must have vengeance…