Massacre in the Valley of the Skulls

Daemons and Warriors of Chaos (Mike) vs Ogres (Tim) 

With their north eastern front collapsing to the onslaught of the Tempestrians, the Ogres were in dire need. All available reserves needed to be funnelled eastward to combat this threat before their lands were overrun.

But they were also assailed to the south and the west with encroaching Dwarfen and Chaos forces and a quarter of their army had been committed against the approaching Chaos horde. The Ogres only hope was to quickly despatch the Daemons then remanoeuvre into position to engage the knights.

The Valley of the Skulls was a terrifying place. Cracks in the earth spewed roiling pools of boiling blood and in the turmoil, gigantic gore-soaked skulls gaped up at the black sky. At the head of the valley, a pair of gargantuan skulls rose from the lakes there, sinister magic throbbing within them and poisonous vapour seeping from their pulsing hate-filled eyes.

But the Ogres knew no fear as the chittering, baying hordes of Daemons clambered toward them. They formed a battle line and advanced, but the bubbling skull pools hemmed them in, making free movement impossible. The Tyrant leader held, trying to lure the Daemons into the narrow channels but they halted, unmoving, hurling torrents of flame into the Ogres. There was no choice but to move forward so they raised the blunt-edged swords and began the bull charge.

Their charge was not fast enough. The Daemons surged forward at the last second, catching them in their flight, striking hard and fast and the Ogre units were snarled up in the narrow gaps preventing them bringing their full force to bear.

A Herald of Khorne riding the back of a Juggernaut called out a challenge to the Ogre Tyrant and he accepted but before he could strike a single devastating blow (that surely would have easily defeated his opponent and carrying him on toward a glorious win) the Herald committed what to all intents and purposes was an impossible assault. Breaking all the laws of probability and physics, the Herald swung his mighty sword and clipped the Tyrant’s head from his shoulders in a single killing blow. There was no way it could have or should have happened but it did.

The Daemons had spontaneously materialised in the Border Princes when Nagash brought the warpstone meteors down but now elite Warriors of Chaos marched alongside them, drawn to the carnage and ascendency of the dark gods. They charged into the Ogre Ironguts and despite the great strengths of the monsters they were hacked down, driven off and run down. Once again the Ogre army was disintegrating!

The spectre of the Ogre Tyrant manifested itself, haunting its place of decapitation, taunting the daemons; demanding to know how they had managed to break the rules of combat and even now selfishly pushed forward toward domination. But his words meant little. The Daemons cared nothing for sportsmanship or morality. They cared only about their vicious amorality; their desperate and cowardly need for glory and their weak-minded and voracious appetite to inflict suffering on their opponent.

In minutes every Ogre in the Valley of the Skulls was hacked to pieces. None remained to contest ownership of that realm. The Daemons had won their first victory and the Ogres grip on their kingdom was slipping further and further away.