AoS: The City of Rhinox

Warhammer Age of Sigmar

The City of Rhinox

A story of subterfuge and cunning between a Slann and Lord of Change

by Mafutu_the_animagus

Slann Starmaster G'vok starred down onto the Realm of Beasts. He ignored the forest lands of writhing flesh, the seas teeming with monstrous life, and the deserts scattered with the skeletons of extinct megafauna. This was a new era, the young races were on the move, and he would aid them.

He watched as the Duardin Lord let his throng out of the snow capped mountains of the south, out onto the flat plains. An odd think for such a creature to do, Lord G'vok brought his will to bear. He foresaw the Lord's wish to cross the plain. Establish a new home. Become the Duardin of the distant northern mountains. He had planned for hardship and for battle. The Lord was great, and his people loyal.

Yet he had not planned for the Rhinox.

For the Slann such a think was easy to see. The winds would shift, drive across the mountains of the north, moving east, onto the high pasture lands. Great herds of Rhinox lived here until the cold came. They would become restless, begin to fight, before making their stampede-migration between the mountains, across the plains, and down to the low pasture lands by the sea.

Looking into their future the Slann watched as Duardin formed shield-walls around their families, only to be crushed under hooves. Their bodies would be picked clean by the Mournfangs which followed the Rhinox. Duardin treasures would be flattened for another two seasons until Ogors arrived to claim the treasures.

Lord G'vok rolled his hand and the western winds grew stronger. He willed the beasts into frenzy, watching as bulls gored one another and calves hid behind mothers. A calf ran. Her mother followed. More fled. The land trembled as the vast host began its migration.

Another flick of the celestial hand. As the earth shook with the beat of a million hooves the Duardin saw a dust cloud signalling the arrival of their doom. The ground shook more, and before their eyes a huge crack appeared in the earth. A deep opening into caverns and caves. The call went up and scouts ran to find safe passage down.

The Starmaster had an alien sensation similar to satisfaction, or perhaps joy, as the Delving Race found refuge. This sensation grew as many Rhinox failed to see the cracks. Their bodies flew over the edge, falling into the depths. Once the Rhinox had passed Duardin axes and hammers began to swing, slaughtering those who had not found a quick end.

Fires were built from hair and horn, and the Duardin celebrated their fortune at finding both refuge and this feast.

Some disappointment flickered over the face of the Greater Daemon of Tzeentch. Lord Ghur'bah was not used to his multifarious plans being ruined in their last moments. Yet he could not see the source of his failure. Surely Kairos Fateweaver had no plans for these beings? He was certain no other could know where he watched, unless it was Tzeentch himself.

It mattered not. With a scowl Ghur'bah fed dark magic into the rocks about the Duardin. He allowed Gold and jewels to grow close to the cooking fires. Beneath them he laid the iron, copper and tin of industry and trade. A layer of white marble running with crisp blue veins lodged deep beneath their feet. Deepest, in the darkness, the Lord of Change threaded the darkest of foul magic. Black crystals began to form, bleeding a green glow into the world. They fed down, along weaknesses and fissures, out across the plain.

A droplet caught a young Duardin's eye. She stared into the darkness, crying out in astonishment and wonder. The throng began a second day of celebrations, feasting on Rhinox, whilst marvelling at their findings.

The Slann Starmaster had no notion of gold, nor jewels, as a financial tool. Untarnishable, he saw their value. That which was written in gold and diamond would last far beyond the lives of these short lived beings.  Yet they gave it away in exchange for wood and food, used it to encourage more Duardin to join them, or covered themselves in it. Worst of all, they began to horde it. Great piles of shining rocks hidden from all but the King's most trusted.

As bitter winds came in from the sea the Rhinox migrated in a stampede again, going east. More fell into the new hold, to be slaughtered, butchered, dried and cured, whilst sturdy bones built houses and pillars to hold up new mine shafts.

The Lord of Change forced the packs of frost sabres and mournfangs following the migration to investigate the smell off roasting flesh. The Duardin found themselves under attack. Unprepared many were lost, but not defeated. Afterwards ramparts were built within the crack, setting a guard against the surface creatures.

The Slann caused rock falls, closing off passes in the northern mountains. A horde of Beastclaw Raiders was thus forced to travel further east, finding the great herds of Rhinox. They began to hunt and feast. As the migration began the Ogors followed. When the predators next attacked the Duardin the Ogors rode in, capturing or killing the beasts. With gifts of iron and promises of weapons the Duardin bought the services of this bestial tribe, securing regular food and an ally.

The Lord of Change smiled. Small arguments grew in this new politics. The Ogors split into many tribes as their numbers grew. The Duardin never truly trusted them, offering little hospitality with each regular shipment of Rhinox meat delivered. The Ogors argued for better weapons, belly plates, and shoes from their little friends.

Starmaster G'vok watched as more travellers came openly upon the realm. From a small fishing village of humans a number of families set out across the dangerous seas.

Ghur'bah sent sea monsters to hunt the humans.

G'vok made winds blow, sending them quickly far off course, away from the monsters, towards the east.

Ghur'bah attracted ancient flying monstrosities to the little ships, breaking sails and feasting on those tossed overboard.

G'vok made great swells and currents, before drawing up a peninsula to shipwreck upon.

Ghur'bah filled the peninsula with frost sabres and mournfangs.

G'vok had the humans flee safely east, along the coast, towards the lowland plains of the Rhinox.

Ghur'bah moved the cold winds onto these plains, causing a migration away from the humans. He forced them, in their starvation, to eat the rotting carcases of those sick beasts left behind to die.

G'vok ensured the Mournfangs left fresh kills from the eastern plains to the now thriving Duardin Hold. The humans ate them warily.

Ghur'bah let the Beastclaw' harvest be great this season. A newly fresh selection of Rhinox hides and meat were traded without issue to the Duardin. The Ogors were well fed, given great gifts, the day before the surviving humans arrived.

Great father Rorris lead what remained of his once great fishing family into the Beastclaw camp early the next day. Each human was dirty, malnourished, covered in the flecks of blood from eating raw Rhinox, and dressed in untreated hides to ward against the cold winds. Still they managed a great cry of relief as they found the small scraps of cooked flesh and the remnants of ale left by  the Ogors after their feasting. They scampered between sleeping monsters, gathering what they found before regrouping to eat.

Starmaster G'vok ensured a shrewd Duardin guard saw them. Messages passed to commanders. A group of young, fast, beardlings were sent out to communicate with the new arrivals. In quiet tones and hand gestures the weak humans were brought inside the first levels of the hold, and given hospitality. G'vok gave the Duardin King dreams and ideas, such that when he was awoken cheer filled him. Against his races nature he whole-heartedly welcomed these people into his home. Secretly, however, away from the eyes of the decamping Beastclaw tribes.

The Slann watched his plans fulfilled as the humans built shelters on the plains. First like the Ogors, from bone and hide. Then the Duardin began drawing marble from their mines. Great father Rorris worked with the Duardin stonemasons, setting up walls and bridges around the Hold. Hearing of the Rhinox migrations, Rorris had the walls formed in great arrows, leading to funnels, and over the edge into the Hold.

Lord of Change Ghur'bah watched his plans fulfilled as the Duardin fortified their position with marble, lead by their newest allies into creating fishing traps for the Rhinox. He watched as the Ogor tribes hunted in the mountains and high plains, ensuring their harvest was once more bountiful.

The Ogors looked forward to the feasts they might have with the Duardin as they carried hides, meat, and bone down to the plains. Confusion rained as the white walls were spotted around the Hold. Frustration was growled as the calls of Rhinox were still heard, being forced over the cliff edge or shot by human and Duardin alike. A  cry went up as slabs of meat were seen already being tied to racks and the walls edge, drying in the cold winds. The holler brought the Duardin King himself to the walls.

By words the King, and by magic the Slann, tried to make the Ogors understand, with more mouths to feed and a city to build, the friendship should remain. A good trade was still possible for the Ogors to prosper by.

By harsh words the Frostlord, and by dark thoughts the Lord of Change, expressed the idea that the Duardin didn't trust the Ogors. That their new allies were favoured, and that the trade prices would go down as the Hold had no use for what the hunters brought in. That the Duardin had built the wall because they were scared of the Ogors and this Realm.

At this last remark, without order, quarrels meant for Rhinox were launched at the Beastclaw Raiders. Harpoons, Chaintraps, Blood Vultures, and Frost-wreathed ice were launched in retaliation. The first battle of Rhinox began.

The Ogors were not prepared for a siege though. They struggled to hit the diminutive foe  with harpoons, and each assault toward the wall was met by the defenders missiles. The Greater Daemon of Tzeentch poured power into the frosty might of both Thundertusks and Stonehorns, yet neither could break the walls before their riders were killed. He leant power to the self-righteous hatred of the greatest Ogors, giving them strength to assault the walls, yet stout Duardin rebuffed them.

The Slann Starmaster fed disloyalty and betrayal into the minds of the Raiders. As kinsmen were killed lesser Ogor tribes felt no joy in this battle. They didn't follow the greater  Ogors in for slaughter. Trade goods were gathered up, and one by one, these small tribes moved off to the gates of the hold. Here they asked for forgiveness, offered gifts to the Duardin, and began to trade.

Ghur'bah squarked at the uncivilised behaviour of these savages, asking for forgiveness, making peace! How dare they?! He withdrew his powers from the last few Ogors assaulting the walls, letting them die, their mounts claimed by other Ogor hunters. Instead his fierce, dark, thoughts were sent back, deep underground. The green glowing black rocks far beneath the Hold grew larger. They pulsed more strongly. He sent them further into and across the Realm, right into the Northern Mountains. Right under the noses of those stupid, vile, Skaven.

The humans expanded their town above the earth. More houses of bone and hide were built. The walls became longer, moving outwards to give space for small farms, protected from the Rhinox, whilst still being intricate enough to ensnare the beasts with each migration.

The Duardin shaped their Hold into a home worthy of Grungni, creating great forges, deep mines, and strong vaults of wealth.

The Ogors were shattered, though. They could no longer hunt Rhinox to get the best prices. Instead they took to the mountains, finding rarer pelts, more enticing meats, and creating the strangest of amulets from the beasts they found there.

Slann Starmaster G'vok saw all was as it should be, for there was peace and prosperity.

The Lord of Change saw stasis. He had foreseen it for some time.

The Skaven dig their tunnels deep throughout the Realms. The Valley of the Rhinox was to be no exception. In the Northern Mountains their warring Clans were soon mastered by one above them all who had found new seems of the precious Warpstone. More burrowing beasts were created, digging south, following the trail of Dark Magic. It lead them into an encircling ring about the Duardin Hold, a series of tunnels perfectly matching the walls of the human town above.

Without warning, deep in the night, mutated and malformed warbeasts surged up from the depths. Rat-men scurried after them, overwhelming the defenders, tearing down the glories so long wrought. The last of the Duardin didn't flee to their human allies at the surface though. The King lead his household into the great vault and sealed the doors. By warp-forged beasts and scurrying vermin they were besieged, soon to be forgotten by the new masters of the Hold.

Far above the humans heard the screams and bellows coming from below.

The Slann did nothing as he watched monsters & vermin rise up from the depths. The humans had always trusted the strength of the Duardin, never expecting an attack from below. They ran to the walls and the barracks, locking doors, clasping farm implements and hunting bows. A few fled the city to be quickly run down by rat-wolves.

At dawn Beastclaw Raiders arrived from the mountains bringing hunted monsters to trade. Yet they found a burning city of screaming people, infested by the Skaven horde. Seeing the new arrivals, a final resisting party of humans called out for aid as rat-men swarmed around the city gate & towers they held. The Ogors laughed in their faces. The humans were clearly going to die. Instead they bellowed for the Skaven leader to show himself. Atop a great rat the Warlord arrived, dressed in stolen Duardin finery, wearing a golden crown. A brash coward the Skaven Warlord was capable of being, when it was necessary, yet celestial inspiration filled him. Seeing the monster-hunters upon his new doorstep he greeted them, offering trade, Duardin finery, even sweet human meats. All this, so long as they could provide him with the bestial monsters of this realm, alive, and safely shackled.

Ghur'bah was pleased. The Rat-men would now go on to cover this land in mutated monstrosities and failed experiments. One day they would wage war on the Duardin of the southern mountains, perhaps even the Ogors. They would breed and gnaw further into this world, returning it to the powers of Chaos.

G'vok was pleased.

All of the Skaven from the Northern Mountains were now in and around the great crack he had once made.

He plucked a rock from the sky, throwing it towards the Realm of Beasts.

As the Beastclaw Raiders moved back into the mountains, burdened by their trade-loot, they turned to see a glowing blue meteor cast down from the heavens. It struck the old Duardin Hold directly, blasting apart the human town, collapsing tunnels, and shaking the valley. As the dust cleared, only the crater remained.