Krell was annoyed.
Yes, even the dead could show irritation.
The Slayer of Kings, The Scourge of the Living…. Death Incarnate…Mortarch of Despair. All titles heaped at his feet ….and yet, No one remembered him now.
He watched in stony silence as some fleshy pale female vampire directed battle lines and instructed troops…his troops. He hadn’t bothered to learn her name. Her stupid red gold armor was meticulously polished and her stupid voice shrill enough she was easy to pick out. He vaguely hoped some archer would do just that.
He had tried to tell them, remind them of who he was of course. When he pulled his body out of some forgotten cave in some unfamiliar land year before he had been confused. Everything was different. Terribly Different. The old powers didn’t exist? Chaos ran unchecked. There were no Brettonians? Sigmar was… a God?
Krell shook his head in wonderment and was brought back the present. He looked to his left at a Skeleton that had turned its head to stare at him. Mindless…. but he felt annoyed at its empty gaze. He reached out he gripped the skeletons head till the skull detonated in his gauntleted hand sending bone splinters shooting out. Grave dust drifted from the aged leather Gauntlet. Another Skeleton mindlessly walked forward to fill the empty spot as the previous owner noisily collapsed to the ground. The Female vampire turned to see what the commotion was and made noises at Krell but he didn’t bother to acknowledge her high-pitched complaining.
He took slight joy at her face of irritation and wondered what noises she might make if he buried an axe in her stupid vampire skull.
After awaking Krell had wandered aimless for a while. Time was irrelevant to the undead bit it was a long time. He didn’t know where to go, who to contact. He came across mortal warriors in the woods and beat then to death with rocks and his fists till he had gathered armor and an axe. Not his old axe…but it still felt right in his hands. He found a town and proceeded to slaughter everyone till a weeping fleshy female mortal answered his questions and he was told that the undead ruled in a Land called Shyish. He told her she could go but then killed her anyway because he didn’t care about his promises to mortals. He kind of didn’t care about his promises to anyone…but that seemed irrelevant at the time
Finding Shyish had been easy, follow the dead. They streamed from that cursed land like a river. The animated corpses of the desolate realm ignored him as he trudged leagues to find his master. Nagash would know. Nagash would explain. But when he arrived he was denied audience. Instead he was led to Arkhan the Black. At last someone Krell recognized. But Arkhan didn’t know who Krell was and told him he was not permitted to stand before a god.
A what?
Krell tried to make Arkhan remember who he was with words. And then he tried to make him remember with his axe. But the toadying worm had forgotten too much and Krell was dragged howling away to die as a mere skeleton in an endless horde. Fuel for the great machine of war that Nagash sent out to conquer the realms
But Krell was not the fuel. He was the fire. And he would not be forgotten on a pile of shattered skeletons. He killed and he killed and he killed till some worthless barrow king recognized his ability. He was promoted to the Wight kings Graveguard. In the Graveguard he killed and killed and killed till that same Wight king was destroyed by some new warrior. Some undead creature clad in gold armor that people called a” Stormcast”. He killed that too.
He was given command of a legion of undead and sent out to kill the mortals with pointy ears or the short mortals with beards or the regular boring mortals that begged not to be killed and cried a lot. He killed them all. He knew they had names but it didn’t matter, they all make the same bloody paste as he hacked through then. His legion grew larger
Then he was told to kill mortals powered by a chaos God. They ran at him screaming and waving their axes and looked at him appreciatively when Krell chopped off their heads. He kind of remembered them. Khorne…the name tugged at his conciseness like a fish hook. He dismissed it and chopped up more of the screaming lunatics.
It felt good to kill them all…for a while
Daemons that looked like women with crab claws…killed. Giant trees with hands like spikes…. killed. Female pointy eared mortals that danced and flipped and declared themselves servants of some Iron god…killed.
But then It started to become tedious…standing in piles of steaming bodies as their blood misted like morning dew. Killing lizards and god undead and short mortals on their flying boats. But he was not to be denied. He would regain his position, his army, His name. He would be granted audience with Nagash and he would be remembered.
At last he was attached to an army known as the “Hand of Nagash” under the command of the shrill Female vampire in her stupid shiny armor.
If she was the Hand of Nagash, then Krell was the axe. And he acted as such slaughtering for her unrelenting and merciless. She was vain like all vampires but she held position and “The Hand of Nagash” was well thought of in the armies of the Death Lord. Here he could receive the glory he needed to gain his audience with Nagash. Here he would be remembered. And one Day he would kneel before the Lord of Death and be returned to his former glory. Also, one day his axe would cleave that stupid vampire head in two he added as he noticed her walking towards him.
Krell wondered if he was being overly bitter.
“You, Wight King.” That was fair…Krell didn’t know her name either
Yes? His voice flowed from him like a death rattle.
“You will lead the vanguard. Break their ranks…Secure those soul wells. I will clean up. If you survive we will meet in the middle Soul well.” If Krell could smile he would. She hoped he would be destroyed on the battlefield. She was as stupid as he assumed. It was nice to be right on occasion
“Of course,” Krell hefted his axe and strode past her as the rank and file started to trudge after him. He turned for a moment to fix her with empty soulless Eyes. “Don’t Forget” and then was gone to kill and kill and kill some more.
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