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Глобальные изменения в мире Вархаммер ФБ


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#1062804 Mesn

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Отправлено 21 января 2015 - 16:19

Братья Глот (Glottkin)
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Нависшая Угроза
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Глава первая
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ВОЙСКА БРАТЕВ ГЛОТ
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СОКРЫТЫЕ МЕРТВЫЕ
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БИТВА ЗА МАРЕНБУРГ
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НЕРЕГУЛЯРНЫЕ ВОЙСКА РЕЙКЛАНДА
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Глава вторая
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Глава третья
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Глава Четвертая
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НАПОЛОВИНУ МЕРТВАЯ АРМИЯ
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ПОСЛЕДНЯЯ НАДЕЖДА АЛЬТДОРФА
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БОГИ И ЧУДОВИЩА
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Архаон приближался.
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Взято отсюда http://forums.warfor...howtopic=192565

Сообщение отредактировал SHREDDER: 02 июля 2015 - 13:54

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#111 Mesn

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Отправлено 13 марта 2015 - 18:37

Короче, мы все умрем!!! А фанаты может и любили мир вахи, но денег ГВ эта любовь не прибавляла. ;)И никто вам всем не мешает любить старый бек, в котором и Кислев есть и все остальные живы. :)А можно еще полюбить бек в котором в Нульне, рядом с людьми, жили гобилны, и существовали полуорки. Или это ересь?!:)
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#112 GamerZOG

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Отправлено 13 марта 2015 - 20:44

А можно еще полюбить бек в котором в Нульне, рядом с людьми, жили гобилны, и существовали полуорки. Или это ересь?! :)

Мне пожалуйста тот мир, что описан в 6-7 редакциях.
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#113 Gaspar

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Отправлено 14 марта 2015 - 00:19

Разрушить мир Вахи это мягко сказать идиотское решение ,Ваха была уникальна в игровой среде ,взять и сломать мир который любили миллионов фанатов ради чего там в будущим реально плохое решение ,нового много как и различных фентезийных миров ,а Ваха была ОДНА.



Миллионы любят 40 тысячник, фэнтези батл же последние десять лет активно умирал, отдельные системы закрывались, попытки вернуть интерес (там онлайн игра и пр.) фейлились. Вот и сделали радикальный подход, причем судя по продажам, коммерчески он оказался верен.



Больше деталей про финал. Пихаю как могу, времени утрясать это все нету.




Бретонская часть.
Тут в первой книге появляется такой Бретонский персонаж Джеррод, вроде сферичный рыцарь бретонии.

Джерод после битвы при Маисонтаале отправился в крестовый поход вместе с Леонкуром, пережил битву при Альтдорфе и стал лидером в бретонском контенте. Далее вместе с Императором прорывался в Аверхейм. Участвовал в прорыве остатков имперцев и бретонцев из Аверхейма. Далее во главе бретонских рыцарей оборонял Атель Лорен. Манфред открыл ему всю правду про Лилеат-Ладриель-Леди Озера. Джеррод конечно потребовал сатисфакции у бывшей богини, а та подтвердитв все сказаное Карштайном предложила ему сделку: поддаться эмоциям - убить ее, но остаться и сражаться за Совет Инкарнейтов или же действовать по собственной воле. При появлении Белакор герцог откидывает все сомнения и сражается с демоном даже не имея шанса на победу, однако ему все-таки удается вонзить меч в Лорда тени. После исцеления Джеррод рассказывает все своим рыцарям и они решают покинуть Атель Лорен. У границы леса их догоняет Влад со свитой и рассказывает от Жиле, который в другими рыцарями Бретоннии сражается у стен какого святилища. Дорогу к монастырю обещает показать Красный Герцог. Влад говорит о могущественном союзнике Ле Бретона. На вопрос Джеррода "Он один из вас?". Влад отвечает "нет, он лучше чем мы все, и пока они с Жилем сражаются вместе Бретонния будет жить". Это Абхораш (первый Кровававый дракон). Джеррод отправляется к монастырю. На этом сюжетная ветка бретонцев заканчивается.
Ну и пафос
'He owed a debt to your king, and swore an oath, and while he fights, Bretonnia lives. In some small corner of your shattered land, the heart of all that was Bretonnia survives.

Из загажника вытащили даже таких древних персонажей как Арбаал и Азазэль (первый мега-чемп кхорна, а второй дп Слаанеша).

Абрал кс. убит Карадрианом.


Гномы, пафосно.
As the White Dwarf spoke, Hammerson thought he could see them. The ghosts of his ancestors moved through the ranks of the living to fill the gaps in the shield-wall. And not just the dead of storied centuries, but those more recent. He saw Thorek Ironbrow, and Ungrim Ironfist. He saw Thorgrim, the Grudgebearer himself, and others besides. Faces and names from history and recent days. It was as if the entirety of their people had come to witness this final act of defiance.

He saw Grombrindal standing upon a broad shield, supported on the shoulders of a one-eyed Slayer and a tankard-carrying ranger. The good eye of the Slayer met his own, and Hammerson felt his growing sadness washed away in a moment of anger. Anger that it had come to this, that all the great works of his people were now as nothing. The fate of the world would be decided elsewhere, by the hands of humans and elves.

For the dwarfs, there was only this. The whole of their history, brought to this point. Hammerson met Grombrindal's gaze, and the White Dwarf nodded slowly. If it must be done, let it be done well, Hammerson thought. Whether they were dead or alive, that was the only way dwarfs knew how to do anything.



Оказывается Карл-Франц таки был убит в Альтдорфе. Его тело использовал Зигмар чтобы вновь вступить на землю.



Воу-воу-воу.

Пока шли события предыдущих книг, Гримгор и его Вааагх успели уничтожить Гномов Хаоса (оказывется Гримгор когдато был у них рабом и ничего не забыл) и (внезапно!!!) Ниппон. И он убивает Гризуса Золотого Зуба. После чего провозглашает себя Боссом Востока.



Гуд гайсы имели шанс на победу, но Манфред по причине жадности, решает все кинуть. Он убивает Гелта, Теклис пытается контролировать Ветер Метала, но для него это оказывается слишком (он на себе уже застолбил огонь и зверя) и взрывается. Магия расспается, Нагаш от такого рассыпается в прах, который уносит в раскол, Манфред фейлится, пытаясь контролировать вихрь и его убивает Теклис.

Нагаша от окончательного забвения спасает внезапно объявившийся Сеттра. Он походу теперь вроде как служит богам хаоса, но он сам собирается использовать Нагаша как средство сврегнуть богов, так как "Сеттра не служит, Сеттра правит!"

Конец света с точки зрения Нефераты. Очень романтично кс.

EPILOGUE
Autumn 2528

Neferata stalked through the ruins of Middenheim, as the world died around her, and wondered why she had come. She had left the uncertain safety of Sylvania, left her new kingdom in the hands of her greatest rival and only friend, Khalida, and made for the certain doom of Middenheim. She had flown through the tortured skies, urging her abyssal steed on to greater and greater speed for reasons she could not articulate. Her armour was scorched and scarred, and wounds marked her flesh, but she felt no pain. There was no more time for pain, or fear, or anything save sadness. She looked up, and watched the sky burn. Her steed screeched in agitation where it crouched on the northern gatehouse.
You were right, Khalida, she thought. It is the end, and nothing we have done means anything any more. All our petty grievances and spiteful schemes are as dust before the doom that is coming to claim us all.
A whimper caught her attention and she turned, seeking out its source. She saw a woman, clad in ruined armour, crouched nearby, amongst rubble and the bodies of elves, dwarfs and northmen. Neferata sniffed, smelling Vlad's blood on the woman. She moved towards her, sword in hand. The woman had been beautiful once, and might have been again, if there had been time.
'But there is no time,' Neferata said, softly. 'There is no time.' The end had come and gone, and all that was left now was for the carrion birds. She could feel it on the air and beneath her feet. She looked down at the woman, pondering. Then, hesitantly, she stretched out a hand.
'Her name is Isabella.'
Neferata whirled, her heart thudding in her chest. Arkhan the Black staggered towards her, through the smoke and fire, leaning on his staff, his ragged robes swirling about him. When he reached them, the liche looked down at Isabella. 'Vlad must have saved her somehow. He was always a determined fool.'
'Not a fool,' Neferata said softly. She sank down and cradled Isabella, as if the other woman were a child. 'Just a man.' She looked up at him. 'You survived.'
'I did. Thanks to Settra.'
'Settra,' Neferata said, unable to believe her ears. She shook her head, dismissing the thought, and asked, 'Nagash?'
Arkhan extended his hand. Neferata's eyes widened, as she took in the slow dissolution of Arkhan's skeletal fingers. 'The Undying King is gone, and his magics with him. Soon, I will join him. The Incarnates have failed, and the world is coming undone beneath our feet.'
Neferata looked up. 'We will all join him. The world is done,' she said. Isabella whimpered, and Neferata murmured comforting nothings to her. 'All our striving, all our pain… for what?'
Arkhan was silent for a moment. He looked down at her and then placed a hand on her shoulder. 'For the chance at something better,' he said. He took her hand and pressed it to his chest. 'Do you feel it, Neferata?'
She jerked her hand away. 'Feel what?'
'One last roll of the dice,' Arkhan said.
'Spoken like a gambler,' Neferata said. She hugged Isabella close and stroked the whimpering vampire's matted hair. Crimson tears rolled down her cheeks and plopped into the dust. Arkhan reached out and wiped them away, before he turned away, to face the growling dark that crept through the streets towards them. 'The End is here, my queen. The all-consuming black fire of the empty spaces between worlds. I see it, even as Nagash must have seen it. It will devour the world, bit by bit, until nothing is left. Until our world, our history, is but dust on the cosmic wind. When they have finished toying with the remains, the Ruinous Powers shall turn away. They will turn their attentions to other worlds, other times, and it will be as if we never existed.' Arkhan extended his hand without looking at her. She took it, and he hauled her to her feet. She still held Isabella.The city trembled around them, and a strange light rose from the cracks in the street.
'ButI see something else, in the void… I see a figure, shining with the power of light and the heavens, swimming through the dark, determined to stir the embers of our passing and free the seeds of a new world, and new life,' Arkhan went on, his rasping, creaking voice filled with something she thought might be wonder. He touched his chest, and she saw a light shimmering through the rents in his robes. He glanced at her. 'There may yet be hope, though that word feels strange to say.' He looked down at his chest, and touched a black mark on his robes, in the shape of a hand. 'I thought she had cursed me, but I think she knew, in the end, that it would come to this. I see a figure, small in the darkness, but it will grow stronger, and I will help, even as oblivion claims me.'
Neferata looked at him. Questions danced through her mind, but she could not speak. She wanted to tell him to abandon whatever mad fancy had seized him. She wanted to tell him that her powers might sustain him, that together, they could hold off the end of everything. But the words turned to ash on her tongue. Arkhan turned fully towards her, and caught her chin in his crumbling fingers.
'Run, Neferata. Run and perhaps you may yet outrun the end. Perhaps you may survive, to flourish with those seeds of life I will help plant in the world to come. Run to Sylvania, fly back to our people, and lead them, in these final hours. Lead them into death, and into the new life the old gods of the sands once promised us.'
'Arkhan…' Neferata murmured. She caught his hand, and kissed his mouldering bones, and then stepped back. 'I will lead them.'
'I will buy you what time I can. It will not be much, but it will be all that I can give. Go, quickly,' Arkhan said, turning back to face the destruction. Neferata turned without another word and ran, Isabella cradled to her chest. Behind her, Arkhan extended his arms, as if he might bar the doom of all the world through sheer determination. Amethyst energy crackled along his bones and leaked out through the cracks in the same. His robes flapped about him as he lifted his staff high, and spat the words to every spell and incantation he knew that might hold back the tidal wave of destruction.
She could almost imagine him smiling, in those last few moments as she fled Middenheim on the back of her abyssal steed. A flash of purple from behind her and the crack of splitting air told her of his fate, and she closed her eyes to weep for the only man she had ever loved.
The world died around her, as she fled. Middenheim fell first, consumed by the nightmare forces awakened in its depths. The hungry darkness crept outwards from the void where the Fauschlag had once stood, and crawled across Middenland, consuming the Middle Mountains and the Drakwald. It was at once empty and full of squirming, abominable shapes, like vast serpents or the writhing tendrils of some immense, unseen kraken. Riots of colour and sound filled it, only to vanish and reappear. The keening of a thousand daemons washed across the stricken land ahead of it.
Beastmen stampeded out of the Drakwald in their thousands, fleeing before a doom that called out to them, even as it drove them mad with fear. Neferata saw them below her as she flew, vast hordes of panicked animals, and the Children of Chaos were soon joined by others – humans, orcs and even ogres, all fleeing before a doom they could not understand, and had no hope of escaping.
The darkness grew, devouring one province and then the next, over the course of the days and weeks that followed. Talabecland vanished, and then the Reikland, swallowed up by the cacophonous void birthed in the heart of Middenheim. Averland fell next, and then the others, one by one. In their mountain holds, the remaining dwarf clans saw nothing of the end, and would not have fled, even if they had.
The Grey Mountains crumbled, and even its staunchest defenders could not prevent the wave of desolation from washing over what remained of the kingdom of Bretonnia. The great forest of Athel Loren vanished, as if it had never been. The new-born over-empire of the skaven followed, and no burrow was deep enough to hide the scurrying hordes of terrified ratmen from obliteration.
The world shuddered down to its roots as it was consumed. In Sylvania, what was left of the peasantry, as well as refugees from Averland and the Moot, sought safety in the ruins of Castle Sternieste, where the dead made ready to protect them as best they could. By the time Neferata reached her lands, the sky had gone black from horizon to horizon.
Her abyssal steed smashed into the battlements of Sternieste, its form wreathed in smoke. It groaned and shuddered as Neferata hauled Isabella off its twisted form, and lifted the nearly comatose vampire up. Her retainers met her on the battlements, their eyes wide with fear. 'Mistress, what–?' one began.
'The end,' Neferata snarled. 'Where is Khalida? Where are the liche-priests? Where are the necromancers? Summon them all! Gather them here, so that we might–'
'We might what, cousin? Escape our fate, one last time?'
Neferata turned, and saw Khalida, once High Queen of Lybaras, and once her cousin, standing nearby, staring out at the encroaching darkness. Even now, her thin limbs wrapped in crumbling wrappings and her ceremonial vestments tarnished with age and battle, she was the very image of a queen. Neferata snarled in frustration. 'And you would meet it gladly, then?' She shook her head. 'I will not go like a sheep to slaughter. Not now, not ever.'
'You speak as if we had a choice, cousin,' Khalida said.
'There is always a choice,' Neferata began, but the words died in her throat as she saw the distant shape of the great bone wall raised by Mannfred in the year before Nagash's resurrection crumble like sand. The darkness swept over it, and Sylvania shuddered like a dying beast. Below, in the courtyard, the surviving humans screamed and wept in fear. Neferata shook her head. 'Too late,' she muttered. She looked down at Isabella and kissed the other vampire on the brow. 'I am sorry, little one. I was not fast enough.'
'Yes,' Khalida said. She turned towards Neferata. 'Time has caught up with us at last, cousin. The Great Land is dead, and soon we will join it.'
Neferata laughed sadly. 'Maybe it is past time. But I will not do so cowering in a hole.' She looked at her cousin and smiled. 'We are queens, cousin. We are daughters of the Great Land, which was old when the world was young. Let us die in a manner befitting our station.' She extended a hand. 'Will you join me, Khalida?'
Khalida stared at the proffered hand, and, after a moment of hesitation, took it. Down below, the warriors of Lybaras, Khemri, and Sylvania raised their shields, as if bronze and steel might be enough to resist the destruction sweeping towards them. Frightened humans cowered behind skeletal warriors and armoured vampires, seeking protection from those they had once feared.
And then, the final darkness swept the last of the old world away.

Сообщение отредактировал Gaspar: 14 марта 2015 - 00:28

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Публичное Объявление Экклезиархии[/b]: Сражайтесь за Императора, и вы, возможно, умрете. Не сражайтесь за Императора, и вы обязательно умрете. Нам нравится делать ваш выбор проще


#114 Mesn

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Отправлено 14 марта 2015 - 00:23

Интересно все это прочитать, когда перевод появится.
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#115 Gaspar

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Отправлено 14 марта 2015 - 00:42

Старый добрый Валнир Жнец сражался с Вульфриком.

Valnir’s head dropped from his bloated frame and bounced across the cobbles.

А Вульфрик сразу встретил Вальтена.


Wulfrik toppled, clutching at his neck. Valten retrieved his hammer and turned back to his enemy. Wulfrik, gasping and choking, lowered his hands and lay waiting. He was smiling again, his teeth stained with blood. ‘Good fight,’ he gurgled as Valten stood over him. He closed his eyes. Ghal Maraz struck.


Мартака (даже не знаю кто это) пришиб Архаон.


Martak lunged. Archaon’s sword slashed out, and the wizard’s head, eyes bulging with fury, bounced down the steps. The air reverberated with a mournful howl as something left his body, and then all fell still. Archaon sank down onto the steps, his sword planted point-first between his legs. He leaned against its length.
‘Yes, wizard, I will,’ Archaon said softly, as he stared down at Martak’s head.


Малекит натравил Гримгора на Архаона
The orc hesitated for a moment. Then a slow, cruel snarl of triumph spread across his features. The orc raised his axe and turned towards his brawling followers. ‘Grimgor is da best!’ he bellowed. He pounded his chest with a closed fist, and his followers added their voices to his victorious roar.
‘No,’ Malekith said.
The orc whirled about. ‘What?’ the brute growled.
Malekith matched the beast’s gimlet stare with one of his own. ‘I – we came to this city to defeat one who claims that title for himself.’ He flung a hand out to indicate the skaven. ‘They serve him, as do the northmen. They say he is the best, the strongest warrior in the world. So strong that he intends to crack it, and drown what’s left in fire.’ Malekith inclined his head. ‘How can Grimgor be the best, if Archaon kills the world?’
‘Archaon,’ Grimgor rumbled, drawing the Everchosen’s name out like a curse. Amber sparks danced in the brute’s good eye. The beast turned north, towards the Temple of Ulric. ‘Archaon… thinks he’s better than me?’
‘I doubt that he thinks of you at all,’ Malekith said.
‘Take me to him,’ Grimgor snarled, shoving the flat of his axe beneath Malekith’s chin. ‘I’m gonna bash ’im, and then I’m gonna stomp ’im, and then we’ll see who’s best.’
‘It would be my pleasure,’ Malekith murmured, rising to his feet.


Алариэлль брутальна
‘This is my domain, beast,’ Alarielle said, as she rose to her feet, ‘and you are not welcome here.’ She made a fist, and the bloodthirster screamed as the roots suddenly burrowed into its flesh. As its roars reached a crescendo, she opened her hand, splaying her fingers. A moment later, the bloodthirster convulsed and then was torn apart by the flailing roots. As chunks of daemon pattered down



Диалог Архаона и Гримгора
‘I will not be felled by a beast,’ Archaon snarled, his voice carrying over the clamour of battle. He surged to his feet, even as Grimgor reached him. ‘I am Archaon, and I am the end made flesh,’ he shouted. He slashed out, nearly opening the orc’s belly. ‘What do you say to that, animal?’

‘Grimgor says shut up and die,’ the orc roared. Axe crashed against sword, as the brute hurled himself at Archaon with wild abandon.


Вроде Танукль и Вермилорды, перед тем как мир накрылся, то ли улетают (как ящеры), то ли телепортируют Скавенгниль, тем самым избегая кабздеца.

И да, вроде в книге подтвержденно что ФБ и 40к это отдельные вселенные.
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Публичное Объявление Экклезиархии[/b]: Сражайтесь за Императора, и вы, возможно, умрете. Не сражайтесь за Императора, и вы обязательно умрете. Нам нравится делать ваш выбор проще


#116 Gaspar

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Отправлено 15 марта 2015 - 00:02

Еще отрывкиАрхаон против Гримгора

'Faster, old friend,' Sigmar shouted, as Deathclaw lunged. But even as the griffon careened towards the centre of the cavern, Sigmar knew he would be too late. Grimgor caught sight of Archaon and roared in delight. The orc charged to meet the oncoming knights, his bodyguard loping alongside him. The greenskins crashed into Archaon's warriors and carnage ensued. Grimgor beheaded a horse with a wild blow, and dragged a knight from his saddle as the man sought to ride past.The Incarnate of Beasts swung the hapless Chaos knight like a bludgeon, battering at the latter's comrades with more enthusiasm than accuracy. He hurled the limp body aside and whirled to meet the charge of the Lord of the End Times. Archaon bore down on the orc, intending to ride him under, but Grimgor was too fast. He slid aside, avoiding the thrashing hooves of the hell-steed, and lunged at its rider. His axe slammed into Archaon's shield, buckling it and knocking the Three-Eyed King from the saddle.Sigmar felt a thrill of hope as he watched the orc stalk towards the fallen Everchosen. Of all of them, he had thought the brute the least likely to strike the killing blow. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.'I will not be felled by a beast,' Archaon snarled, his voice carrying over the clamour of battle. He surged to his feet, even as Grimgor reached him. 'I am Archaon, and I am the end made flesh,' he shouted. He slashed out, nearly opening the orc's belly. 'What do you say to that, animal?''Grimgor says shut up and die,' the orc roared. Axe crashed against sword, as the brute hurled himself at Archaon with wild abandon. Back and forth, they reeled through the melee, trading blows that would have felled dozens of lesser opponents. The orc's axe scored red lines across Archaon's armour, and Archaon's blade drew blood again and again.Finally, axe met sword and the two weapons became tangled, and their wielders strained against one another, using every ounce of strength that they possessed to hold their ground against their foe. For a long moment they stood, head to head, the Lord of the End Times and the Once and Future Git, the Three-Eyed King and the Boss of the East. Then, with a guffaw, Grimgor's skull crashed against Archaon's helm. Sigmar saw the strange, flickering gemstone set in the Everchosen's helmet shatter, and realised that Archaon was the Three-Eyed King no more. The Everchosen would have to make do with the two he'd been born with – what was left of the Eye of Sheerian speckled the broad expanse of Grimgor's brow.The blow broke the stalemate, and the two warriors staggered apart. Archaon reached up to touch the crumpled face of his helm, and he howled in rage. A strange energy suddenly illuminated the blade of his sword and rippled up his arm, and then he was striding in with liquid grace. Grimgor met his advance, and each time they traded blows, black lightning streaked from the point of impact, until at last the orc's axe succumbed and shivered apart in his hands. The orc staggered back, eyes bulging.He didn't stay off balance for long, however, and he tossed aside the remains of the useless weapon and leapt for Archaon, hands reaching for the Everchosen's throat. Archaon rolled into the collision, and his sword's point erupted from between Grimgor's shoulder blades in an explosion of blood. The orc staggered, and slumped with a guttural sigh. His thick fingers clawed uselessly at Archaon's cuirass as he slid to the ground, and a writhing amber haze rose from his form, to coalesce briefly in the air before collapsing into wisps of light which were drawn towards the shimmering void growing within the warp-artefact.Grimgor's warriors uttered a communal howl of fury as their boss fell, and flung themselves at the Swords of Chaos with redoubled ferocity. Archaon beheaded one as the orc clawed at him, and turned to meet Sigmar's gaze as the latter leaned forwards in Deathclaw's saddle. The griffon hurtled across the cavern, the Reiksguard galloping in his wake. Behind him, Sigmar heard the death-scream of a dragon, but he could not afford to take his eyes off his enemy. 'Archaon,' he roared. 'Face me, Destroyer.'

Последствия предательства Манфреда

The vampire spun towards the rift, and, as Teclis had, he thrust out his hands, as if to draw the winds to him. Instead, however, it was the raw substance of the rift which answered his call. It washed over him, and Mannfred's laughter degenerated into a scream as he staggered back, his flesh smoking.The rift flared and Sigmar added his screams to those of Mannfred, as did all of the remaining Incarnates. The void tore the winds loose from their hosts and drew them into itself. Sigmar thrashed as the celestial magics of Azyr were dragged from him a second time, and sucked into the nightmare abyss. He collapsed, his body trembling, and his strength gone. He saw the other Incarnates fall, one by one.Nagash was the last. For long moments, the Undying King stood unbowed against the howling void and his own dissolution, as the magics that had given him form slowly unravelled. He fought against the void, as if determined to wrench back the Wind of Death through sheer will. Then, at last, the Great Necromancer threw back his head and screamed desolately one final time before he suffered Teclis's fate and was torn apart by the swirling energies.As the ashes of his former master were swept into the void, Mannfred staggered blindly away from the rift, clawing at his seared flesh. He ranted and railed in a language Sigmar did not recognise, and called out for people who were not there. .

Теклис за мгновение до своей смерти. ]]>http://www.warseer.c...mp;d=1426291734]]>
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#117 Gaspar

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Отправлено 15 марта 2015 - 09:33

Финал Белакора.
‘The world is already dead,’ Be’lakor said. ‘You merely seek to postpone its burial.’ He looked up at Malekith. ‘Well, Witch-King? Have I bargained for my life satisfactorily?’

Malekith sat silently for a moment. Then he laughed harshly. ‘Oh yes, I’d say so. You will have life, of sorts.’ He gestured. ‘You shall be broken on the Anvil of Vaul, daemon, and sealed in ithilmar.’ He looked at the Everqueen.

Alarielle reached up, and plucked a ruby from her crown. She handed it to Malekith and said, ‘This ruby shall be your cell. The essence of you shall be sealed within its facets, once my… husband has cracked your bones and stripped you of your flesh.’

If Malekith had noticed Alarielle’s hesitation in referring to him as her husband, he gave no sign. Instead, he held up the ruby and continued, ‘Thus bound, you shall be sealed away, deep beneath the Glade of Starlight, in a prison of root and stone which shall outlast even the Rhana Dandra. You shall live, in the dark and the quiet, while the world lives or dies about you.’ Malekith leaned in. ‘Your story is done, daemon. It has come to its final ignominious conclusion.’

Be’lakor snarled and made as if to lunge up the dais, but the halberds of the Black Guard flashed and the creature fell, squealing. He cursed and screamed as he was dragged away, Caradryan and Malekith following in his wake to see to his imprisonment. Teclis watched them go. The council had broken up without making a decision, but he had expected as much.

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Публичное Объявление Экклезиархии[/b]: Сражайтесь за Императора, и вы, возможно, умрете. Не сражайтесь за Императора, и вы обязательно умрете. Нам нравится делать ваш выбор проще


#118 Gaspar

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Отправлено 15 марта 2015 - 14:44

Довольно любопытный диалог Сигмара и Архаона
'You will fall here,' Sigmar said, fighting for breath. His strength was ebbing. 'Whatever else happens, you will fall.' He felt the ground tremble beneath his feet, and he saw that the warp-artefact was no more – it had been completely consumed by the swirling void it had given birth to. The roiling surface of the sphere ate away at the cavern around it, and a crackling, empty void of white was left in place of the churned rock. His heart sank.

'It doesn't matter,' Archaon said. 'Nothing matters. I've won. This world will burn, and something better will rise from the ashes.'

Сообщение отредактировал Gaspar: 15 марта 2015 - 14:44

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Публичное Объявление Экклезиархии[/b]: Сражайтесь за Императора, и вы, возможно, умрете. Не сражайтесь за Императора, и вы обязательно умрете. Нам нравится делать ваш выбор проще


#119 Gaspar

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Отправлено 15 марта 2015 - 19:45

С Вилитчем Проклятцом вышло очень весело. Оказался в царстве Тзинча. Который ему сказал мол я внял твоим молитвам. Он такой йоптыть я же не молился , и тут впервые за несколько десятилетий заговорил второй брат сказав что обращаются к нему и Вилитч беспомощно наблюдает как тело уходит под контроль брата. Короче Тзинч бог троллей.
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#120 Gaspar

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Отправлено 16 марта 2015 - 23:19

Еще гномьего пафоса
Hammerson lifted his weapons. ‘We make our stand here,’ he said, trusting in his voice to carry to every ear. ‘No more running. We stand here, for the Black Water, for every hold, and the world entire. Do you hear me, sons of Zhufbar? Like the stones of the mountains… we will hold.’

Ван Хортсман попытался поймать ветер огня. Удачно. Но ненадолго - сгорел.
Сигвальд замочил Крелла, но был убил Троггом.
Людвиг Швальцен и Валькика убили друг дгуга, насадив на копья (точнее Людвиг на Имперский Штандарт)
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