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The Fire The Horseclans had been drawn to the windswept plain for weeks. They arrived as the sun set, but were too close to stop now. They pressed on in the gathering darkness. Stormclouds rolled in, but they paid no heed to the rain and thunder, their goal, whatever it was, was too close. Rivals that had spent years baiting each other and honing grudges rode silently side by side, as they all strained to find that which had drawn them to this place. The fitful lightning limned a figure on horseback, still as a statue. The horses shied away nervously, and the riders could feel the presence and power of the figure. Without speaking, they halted 30 feet away from The Rider, and their mightiest champions advanced. The Rider was motionless, and his eyes were closed. The eldest champion, Nihulud, spoke, "O great one, we will follow you wherever you lead. Show us the way, that we might smite your foes and drink and feast in your name." The Rider slowly opened his eyes and breathed in deeply. In an almost bored tone, he said, "You lack the fire," then he turned away and began to ride. "You Lack The Fire." The words stung them like a lash. Without a word, the clans charged forward, after The Rider. Even as they did, The Rider spurred his horse faster. First a trot, then a full gallop, the Horseclans surged like water that has broken through a dam. The darkness and unfamiliar terrain caused a few to slow, but the rest thundered ahead, to prove their worthiness. They rode all night and all the next day, keeping the dizzying pace. The horses were struggling for breath, and the nomads clung to their saddles, urging their mounts faster. The moon saw them heading into the foothills of the mountains that night. As dawn broke, they crossed the mountain pass at breakneck speed. Always The Rider kept ahead of them, seemingly effortless as his mount skipped through the broken, rocky terrain. The Horseclans followed. More fell back, tired and sore. Others, unsure of their footing in the rocky terrain, hesitated and were lost. The rest paid them no heed in their desire to catch The Rider. The smell of sweat and terror, of both horse and rider mingled into a heady scent, thrilling them and driving them harder. The next day, the ceaseless pounding of hoofbeats drowned out all outside noise. The beating of their hearts mirrored the overpowering drumming. Yet, "You Lack The Fire" still sang in their minds. Another day passed, their thirst and hunger gnawing at them, driving out all sound and sight, save The Rider in front of them and the Voice calling to them, "You Lack The Fire." Another day passed in a flurry of hooves over soft grass, the riders and horses breathing and straining as one. By now, they were only 30, but none slowed for their former comrades, the only thing that mattered to them was that single statement, " You Lack The Fire." Days went by as they streamed through the wilderness, and none of the remaining 20 wondered how they could continue without food or water. As they rode, they sometimes encountered small groups. Here an Orcish village, there a hunting party, once even a group of nuns gathering flowers. The Rider never broke stride, smashing through the middle like a force of nature, his sword snaking out like lightning, felling several as he passed through, but continuing the inexorable ride. The 18 followers followed his lead, striking down those in front of them, but never slowing or stopping the chase. Still caught between The Voice and the rider, they galloped onto another plain. Ahead of them lay a barren steppe of twisted black glass that looked as if the sea had been frozen mid-storm. As they passed over the slick surface, they felt a change. Their skin, already hardened by exposure to the elements and the sweat and pounding of the long ride, began to harden further, assuming strange whorls and spikes. Their horses, too, began to harden, and some noticed fangs protruding from the horses' mouths, while others regarded the horns and fins their mounts sprouted. For the first time since the Rider had spoken to them, they looked at each other. They gazed upon strange visages, some with vertically slit eyes, others with long fangs. One cried out at the sight, his forked tongue flickering in and out. Two screamed and began clawing at their eyes, then were devoured by their horses. The pair of horses ran away, and everything grew still. The Rider drew to a halt and turned his horse to face them. They brought their horses to a halt and thrilled with anticipation. They had finished the chase, but they feared what he might be, and what they had become. The Rider sat motionless on the wind-scoured plain of black glass. Eerie green balefires lit the nightmarish landscape with fitful flickers, and ghastly shapes flitted at the edges of their vision. The 16 ignored all this, and waited. They waited, it seemed, for days. Hearing only the howling of the wind and watching only The Rider, they too sat motionless. When The Rider spoke, his voice was beautiful and terrible. It held the peace of the highest hymns, yet carried with it the grating of bone on bone. His voice washed over them there in that blasted plain. He said, "You have the fire after all." The words enveloped them and gave them comfort. He was silent again for an incalculable time. The riders still quaked at what he might say, yet they ached to hear him speak again. After an interminable silence, The Rider spoke again, "My sister approaches. We will ride for the poisoned heart of the Empire and bring it new life." With this, they could hear approaching hoofbeats and another Rider blew through them like a wind, clattering to a stop next to the first. The Two Riders paused a moment, each looking deep into the other's eyes, then they kissed, a lingering, passionate kiss. As one, the 18 turned toward the Empire and began to ride. What's the story? For the Storm of Chaos this summer, several of the local outriders have gotten together and are planning themed chaos armies. Since I am still working on many, many Orcs and Goblins, and will be busy with other projects as well, I wanted a very small, elite force. While the idea of Daemons was interesting, it didn't really strike my fancy. In addition, I knew that I could certainly come up with very powerful fighters on foot, but I really want to explore the use of cavalry in Warhammer Fantasy Battles, so I decided on Chaos Knights. After checking out a few options and getting a feel for what the other outriders were doing, I decided that Khorne was overdone, and Nurgle has generally left me cold. That left Tzeentch and Slaanesh. While Tzeentch has a certain appeal, I don't want to do magic right now (I'll save that for later.) Finally, I decided I'd go with Slaanesh, but go light on the influence, keeping it as just a hint of flavor. I played around with the army options briefly to find the combination I was looking for. As with most of my armies, I only did a brief skim over the armoury section (magic weapons in this case) and chose a lesser leader, to allow my troops to carry the day. I considered chariots, but they didn't really fit the theme I had originally conceived for the list, a group of riders, driven by desire and the thrill of the chase. As I was playing around with ideas, the thought struck me to use 2 Heros instead of one. It would add a little more punch to the formation and keep it small, yet within my concept. Almost immediately thereafter, I came up with the concept of The Twins. I would outfit each of them the same way, and have them command separate units, but I would incorporate a conversion. I decided that I should model them each with the same head, but make one female and the other male. I was initially thinking of keeping them androgynous, but I decided that would be too subtle, so male and female it is. I'm currently planning on using Daemonette heads. I'll saw off/sand down the spikes and sculpt hair or helmets on them, and I think they'll look quite cool. They will each join one of the regular units, while the chosen will ride on their own. Including the Twins, this will give me 3 units of 6, Slaanesh will be pleased. The story above is intended to give a feel for them and why they do what they do. It's a rough draft and I would definitely like to hone it down, so that I can say as much or more in a smaller space. If you have any suggestions, please email me and let me know. If you enjoyed this, email me and let me know |