Aqshy was at war.
It always had been, and always will be.
Countless legions and war-hosts slave the battlefield under the fickle hopes that they shall be the ones to prevail: The unyielding and savage knights of the Blood God, the cunning yet preposterous tribes of the Bad Moon, God-sworn echelons of sigmar’s finest, and many more have all been forgotten and discarded over the ages…
But this would be different, yes, this would be the time when one force in the mortal realms finally ascends above all others.
This is, the Crusade of the Holy Stomp.
Gravy scratched his head. Observing the volcanic landscape around him. Mountains of magma spewing hellfire and brimstone, whilst the land itself smouldered as if it were an endless sea of coal.
“Aye brutha! There notin to bash roond ‘ere” Gravy Exclaimed
“Berr wit me Gravee, Lil‘ man tells meh derrs a big ol’ brawl ova derr somwerr” said Onion, attempting to reassure his brother, after all, Onion couldn’t have him kicking off with nothing but himself to take out his anger on.
“Oi lil’ man, tells me again werr we goin” asked Onion.
Lawrence sighed - “for the hundredth time my friend, over those mountains” Lawrence pointed his staff in the complete other direction as to where Onion had tried to guide Gravy.
Lawrence used to be a aspiring Battle-mage for Tempest’s Eye, when he had encountered a Tzeentchian cult forming beneath his temple, the deamonic followrs attempted to banish Lawrence to the realm of chaos, but the spell backfired and sent him into the empty wasteland of Aqshy (the two realms can be quite similar in places). Lawrence, now completely lost, found himself not-too far from a conflict - two Mega-Garagants stomping on a swarm of Deathrattle. Lawrence did not feel like siding with the great necromancer and so decided to help out the titanic duo. Lawrence conjured forth his specialty - an emerald life-swarm - and it soothed the Giants wounds, keeping them in the fight. Once the Vast majority of bone had been atomised, the Gargants Thanked their puny saviour and offered for him to join them, seeing no other option apart from dying alone in the fiery wastelands, Lawrence agreed and now finds himself atop a rickety platform that rests on Onions mantle.
And yet Lawrence had grown fond of his two Colossal escorts. Gravy loved to crack the skull of anything Monstrous the challenged his size, collecting artefacts and trinkets, as if he were a trophy hunter or collector. and Onion gained immense glee at raising any settlement he came across. they are Gargants after all.
“No time lik da presunt” announced Onion
“Aye, more beasties to bash” agreed Gravy
The three began to travel their path, towards glory, towards the ravaged coast…
The Crusade of the Holy Stomp has begun.
