Game 16 - The Verdigris Plains

The winds screamed across the Verdigris Plains as if the sky lamented past horrors witnessed on the ferrous dunes. The Dead had come back. A column of the soulless, returned upon the whim of the Dark Heart that led them. The shifting sands churning as the debris of the past stirred at the presence of such malevolence and the Dead came back.

A brilliance burst over the scene. Pure light from above. Not sunlight piercing the brown clouds of dust but light spilling forth from heaven. A hated light that caused anger to rise within the Dark Heart.

With the eye-aching rays gleaming from spear tips, scale and totems, the Seraphon stepped upon the plains with claws biting deep into the particulate remains of whatever doomed past had been ground down to form the rolling dry vista between the two forces. Given the isolation of the place, it was clear that the appearance of the Saurus was no coincidence and neither side paused to ready themselves for what was to come.

Moving at speed the long legs of the Lizards drove into the metallic dust that whipped around them as the wind gusted and rolled clouds of stinging brown filings into the air hiding the enemy from sight but they ploughed forward with intent.

Bursting through the ferrous curtain, the dead hooves of fleshless horses carried their riders into the lines of the advancing Seraphon. Skulking at the front of the lizard lines was the low barbed shaped of a spiny Razordon which bristled in defence and braced itself to meet the charge but it was not enough as lances splintered against scale and the lizard joined the dead of the dunes trampled under the impact of the Dark Heart’s cavalry.

In the confusion caused by the swirling cloak of dark cinders the battle lines started to merge with hulking Kroxigor smashing into the all but blinded skeletal archers holding the Undead’s right flank. Mighty overhead strikes shattered skulls and long-bones alike before the largest of the mighty lizards swept his heavy-headed club through the front ranks flinging fragments of their opponents across the filthy battlefield. But the Dead came back

Gaining traction on the sliding ash and wastes, both sides surged into a swirling melee. The spears and claws of the Seraphon met the hoof and lance of the Undead knights as the Seraphon tried to dispatch the riders before skeletal reinforcements could arrive. But the Dead came back.

The Dark Heart sensed he had the measure of what he faced and set his standard in the ground confident in the forces under his thrall. The unholy banner radiated its necromantic power quickening the pace of the massed reanimated dead. His mark made, the dark armoured form swept from the dune tops to support the beleaguered archers and to taste the life essence so evident in the Kroxigor. Streaking from cover a previously unseen Salamander sprang towards the Dark Heart as if driven by some unseen will. Its distended maw open as it charged disgorging venom and acid bile over the material form of the Dark Heart. Staggered and reeling the Necromancer had no defence against the Salamander as it leapt upon him shredding the still dissolving form with its claws and pulping it into the dunes.

In the grand melee the silence of the dead was lost under the roars of the Saurans as lines of infantry ground together, each struggling for footing on the never-still drifts they fought over. Hoping to break the wall of un-living bone, the Seraphon pushed forward with the thrust being dominated by the juggernaut form of a Bastiladon shooting searing beams of etheric light which obliterated the skeletons. But the dead came back.

As the Undead reformed they managed to slowly surround the increasingly outnumbered lizards. With the archers and Dark Heart now gone the Kroxigor and Salamander struck the horde that was clubbing and stabbing at the mighty dinosaur.

Despite their arrival, the enormous shell of the Bastiladon was not enough to shield it and the massive form slumped to the ground with the skinks riding aloft soon meeting their end as they were dragged from their perches and dispatched.

The enraged Kroxigor waded through the remaining skeletons roaring is defiance. At last, thinking his work done, his guard dropped. The howling wind and driving ash had blinded him to the last of his quarry until they lurched once more from the obscuring clouds of dust. The dead had come back.

Hollow eyes betrayed no emotion as the lances of the corpse riders pierced the armoured flank of the mighty lizard. His death rattle was lost to the storm, whipped away leaving no way on knowing if the mysterious forces that had sent them had achieved their goals or not.

With the surrounding tempest still unabated, the dead came back.