The Unholy Legions of Anti-Sanctus Chaotica, a Warhammer Online Destruction Regiment, The Adventure of Gribbley and Mylfala

The stench was putrid. Skulking through the marshes, Mylfala could only think of the smell constantly assaulting her senses shamelessly. Having only been in the marshes for a couple of days, the witch elf hadn’t had time to adjust to the various odors exuding from the environment and its inhabitants. Still she pressed on.

Oddly enough, she felt more at home in the unforgiving marsh more than she had been in the over perfumed cesspit that she was supposed to call home. Dark elves were far too prissy for her tastes. Their constant indulgence under the cult of Slaneesh in secret disgusted her, for by day they worshipped Khaela Mensha Khaine out of fear. Their weakness and pettiness irritated her to no end, as Mylfala regarded hedonism the ultimate downfall for her people. If they were all pure and worshipped in blood as they were supposed to, maybe they could over come their stupid cousins as so many of her brethren wanted to. The hypocritical nature that Mylfala had branded her people with only served to drive her farther away, which in the end explained why she had been so interested in greenskins.

Their very nature fascinated her. There was no sex, no feelings… Nothing but brutal violence decorated their lands. The strongest was the biggest and the weakest were their food. There was no room for screw ups. Simplicity at its finest.

“Dat’s it! Dat’s da last… Da last… Yuz done it now, Gribbley! Yuz a ded gobbo!” An orc’s exclamation broke through the quiet hum of insects and Mylfala darted up a tree to get a better view.

In the clearing ahead, a large black orc held what appeared to be a small goblin shaman up by the robes. His feet kicked as he dangled, but there didn’t seem to be any fear, just indignance on the creature’s intelligent face, which was very odd for a goblin in his position. Circling around the two greenskins were three other orcs, each with large pairs of what they referred to as… ‘choppas’.

“Ooooh yuz a dum wun, Grotz. Yuz messin’ wif da wrong gobbo yu iz.” Gribbley’s mouth opened in what could be called a smile, his jagged teeth exposed. “I’z full o’ da Waagh an’ yu iz jus’ a big boy wif an empty noggin’. Yuz need Gribbley. I got yuz where yu iz an’ I kin take dat away!” Gribbley smacked the orc on the head with his staff and giggled as the orc Grotz roared in anger. In response Grotz shook the little goblin furiously.

“Yu iz full of nufin but poop, Gribbley. Yuz a big mouf gobbo dat iz gunna be ded. Me ‘n my boyz dun need yu.”
His ‘boyz’ in response started flexing and roaring, showing off their might to the seemingly helpless Gribbley. The goblin yawned dramatically and looked around quickly.

“Oo yah? Iz dat soz? If iz not powaful, den how did I summuns a pointy ear ta help me?”
Mylfala almost fell out of the tree in alarm. Four sets of eyes glanced around hastily and then they lifted to spy her in the bows of the tree. Gribbley caught her eye and looked at her knowingly.

“Chop da tree down ya dum gitz! Yuz chop dat pointy ear gud!” Grotz bellowed. The other orcs let out fearsome war cries and turned their axes to the tree. Mylfala calculated quickly how thick the trunk was and moved quickly, jumping out of the branches, daggers first into the closest orc. The weapons sheared through flesh and bone; one of the points catching on its eye socket. A loud scream erupted out of its throat, but Mylfala didn’t falter, twisting each dagger and pulling it out, enjoying the sound of flesh rip. Her feral side quickly took over her mind and clouded as the smell of freshly drawn blood filled her nostrils. The witch elf was only slightly aware of the oncoming assault from its two companions but that was enough. In response, she vaulted off the orc’s shoulders over the other two and collided with Gribbley and Grotz.

Mylfala fell back stunned as her head hit the makeshift armor of the black orc. Gribbley tumbled free from Grotz’s grip. Grotz let out a large belly laugh.

“Dum pointy ear iz skwishy an’ soft. Iz Bets yu taste gud. An bes of all, I dun hafta peel yu.”

The large orc reached forward and roughly grabbed Mylfala by the arm, pulling her to him, his jaws open to consume her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the goblin struggle to his feet and bolt. Dark curses brewed in her head at the coward and she lifted her other arm to strike at the orc, but she felt a large hand grab her forearm from behind. Without mercy, it pulled until she heard a loud pop from her shoulder, the dagger falling from her hand. Mylfala was unable to curb the loud cry of pain that sprung forth from her lips.

The orcs started to laugh at her pain and frustration. “Dat wuz a funny noize. My turn!” Grotz used his other arm to grab Mylfala’s useless shoulder and started to pull her other arm but suddenly he stopped and recoiled in pain, dropping Mylfala. Despite her handicap, she didn’t hesitate to make use of her good arm to plunge her dagger into Grotz’s gaping maw. She felt the blade pierce the skin, slipping through the back of the creature’s head and stopping as it hit the back of his helm. The orc gurgled, but seemed to be in too much pain to close its mouth on her arm. Seeing the opportunity, she retracted the blade fast and then stabbed it through his nose, not stopping until she hit the top of his skull. With a dying moan, the orc fell backwards.

Quickly, the witch elf pivoted to face the other orcs behind her. The two remaining were stunned, glancing back and forth between the Grotz and the dead greenskin lying at the base of the tree. Without hesitating Mylfala took the opportunity to pop her arm back in place, growling like a feral beast at her opponents. She felt the pain, but refused to acknowledge it, clumsily retrieving the dagger she had dropped. The orcs, figuring out what was going on, snapped out of their stupor and charged. Mylfala lifted her weapons in preparation when she felt a slight tingling sensation all over her body. She felt… renewed.

The first rushed in with axes flailing in typical orc fashion. There was no form to his movements which frustrated Mylfala as she attempted to find an opening in his erratic axe swipes. Finally she just gave up and ignoring the danger she rushed at the orc and dived at his legs, swiping and stabbing desperately at any flesh she could find. She felt the axe strikes on her back but the tingling sensation returned, invigorating her and spurring on her break neck pace, whipping her into frenzy. The orc fell screaming as she hacked its legs to the bone. As he fell she jumped on top of the flailing creature, again striking at any showing skin.

Without seeing the second orc’s strike coming she dodged, his axe missing her by a hair and plunging into his downed companions chest piece. Mylfala turned and sliced at the last orc’s face. It screamed and started to back down but she didn’t relent and instead forced herself onto it, slicing and stabbing it until it too hit the ground. In her blood lust she jumped on its chest repeatedly tearing apart its face without realizing it was already dead.
After a couple minutes of hacking at the orc’s dead corpse, she relaxed and lowered her weapons, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips. Covered in both her blood and the blood of the greenskins she stood, stumbling backwards until she finally just sat down on the blood covered ground, taking in the sensations and slowly coming back to her senses.

“Dat wuz great! Yuz iz a gud pointy ear.”

Mylfala looked up to see Gribbley standing in front of her with a large grin on his face. She didn’t know whether to be irritated or happy, but the blood lust high spoke for itself.

“You… Why didn’t you run away like you were going to?” The oddness of the goblin confused her. By all rights, most of his kind usually would have set the two opponents after each other to distract from the escaping goblin, but he had stayed.

“Why? Iz wants dose boyz to be ded an’ you kilt dem. If ida go, den if da boyz wun dey wud ‘ave founded me. Dis wurk muuuuch betta.” The shaman giggled.

“I’m impressed,” she said taken aback. “I would have never thought-“

“Dats cuz I iz a cleva gobbo. Dey dun like me cuz I cleva an’ deys dum, an’ Iz remindem dat ebery day! Stupid gits. Last big boss tol’ me an’ my boyz ta run in an’ make da stunties chase us an’ dey get dem, but big boss wuz dum an’ didn’t fink about stuntie tricks. In da end, I wuz da only wun wot get away. I cud be betta boss soz Iz finking dat I kin be da big boss wif clevaness. Dey dun says yes an’ dey fink dat Iz a moufy gobbo wot need krumpin’. Dats wherez yu come in. Wif somewun as scary as yuz, Iz cud be da big boss an’ yuz keep me safe.”

Mylfala thought about what Gribbley told her and realized that it was in fact a pretty good arrangement. With his healing and magic they could definitely be a force to be reckoned with. Sure he kind of thought of her as his personal bodyguard, but really, with his talent she knew she couldn’t say no. She had abandoned pride long ago.

“I’m Mylfala Paindancer.” She extended her hand. He took it and shook with a big grin on his face.

“I iz Gribbley Kneenibbler. Were we goez now?”

“I don’t know,” she said, standing up. “I follow you. You’re the boss after all.”

He giggled. “Yuz gunna be a gud git, yu iz. Let’s go.”

Mylfala didn’t even ask where they were off to. She knew wherever he was going was better than her aimless wanderings. For once she felt slightly at peace.

~Fin