The Story of Saint Albrecht, Chaos Lord

by Mortwright

General Riel sat astride his steed surveying the battlefield.

‘From his lofty perch he could see the oncoming tide. Three hundred chaos warriors and more than fifty knights were on the march from across the outlying farmland. It was only a matter of time before they struck the great wall and threatened the Bretonian town of Klimdstadt.

The dinge of the march had spread from the ground, starting from below the Chaos horde spreading up into the sky. The mix of Dirt and the buzzing of flies were blackening out the morning sun already. It was cold early this year and it appeared that this could prove to bear the darkest winter yet.

With his lips pressed together the aging General gave a subtle hand signal to his commanding knights. Nodding in acknowledgement, Riel’s second in command kicked his steed up into a start and sped along the line of archers in the back rank of the army. It was time to form the cavalry into a line, and prepare for the spearhead. They would not let Death come to them on this day.

The ensuing battle raged on for almost three days. It slathered the land in the same way a wild dog would clean the flesh off an overcooked bone. Even general Riel lost his prize mount Willowbrook to the ferocity of a Chaos warrior attack. After crushing their baggage train and slaying their Lord, the leaderless and unsupplied chaos army had to retreat. Scattering back through the breach abandoning their wounded and their weapons.

This was the last time the north town of Klimdstadt would be faced by the chaos from the north. Riel vowed to end it by invading the enemy with a massive and nearly impossible counterattack. While the chaos horde was limping it’s way back to the twisted wastes, he schemed to lead his finest knights to their homeland, no matter how far and destroy the evil that spawned such a massive amount of evil into the world.

That evening he requested an old Magi to visit him in his plan tent. General Riel wanted to know if the spirits would tell of a weakness in the Chaos army. The Magi, by the name of Malchias was an old and trusted seer of Breton, known to be truthful in his prophetic, whether the outcome was good or bad. Upon his sequesterment, the old man produced a bag of black witch root instead of his usual telling cards. He asked to General to make a tea of the root and observe his dreams. This would bear many secrets in the tide of time for the months to come.

~Riel’s Dream~

The dream started on a snowy pressipus atop a great mountain in the north. The elder General would ride forth on a great griffon with his whole army beneath and he would see the center of all of chaos in the old world.

In an impossible place, a tree would grow. A great and corpulent tree massed by the sheer amount of souls twisted into and amongst its branches. There were bodies hanging from the limbs in terrible ways by terrible means. Human entrails decorating it as if in a sick and Daemonic Yule. Skulls adorning the great tree’s base, and millions of faces emblazoned on the bark. This was the link of the evil spirit realm and the old world. The root of all Chaos. He and his knights slayed the Daemon guardians and hacked the tree down to the roots. In the dream, destroying the tree had lifted the curse and rent the evil from the land.

~ The Quest~

Promising Fifty of the finest Grail knights fame and glory in the light of Sigmar, he convinced his war band to set a course to the north, and follow the plague back to it’s root. At first the morale was high, and they seemed invincible. The Grail knights slayed the main units if the retreating Chaos army. They managed to burn a Beastman village, and raze a Chaos Dwarf fort to the ground.

It is in the journey that the talents of the General’s lieutenant really began to shine. His name is Albrecht Aeshelon the seventh of the noble and proud Aeshelon family.

Hs mastery of combat was a plain result of his life by the sword, but his intelligence is what really separated him from his peers. His cunning in battle had saved the lives of many Bretonian knights. It appeared that this awesome champion was flawless in battle. Unfortunately it is painfully obvious to Riel that Albrecht has hatred in his heart and the merciless pursuit of his fleeing enemy was a plain example of the battle madness that Riel himself has had to resist many times before. Albrecht was good, but it would take an awesome example to make him a general. Riel planned to teach him a lot in the following months.

It took only fifteen days to reach the road of the crag. A great black mountain jagged in front of them they could not even see the top of it for all the clouds. The climb was dangerous. A few knights fell to their death, and many others found their legs or necks caught in giant claw like troll traps. The traps laid in random corners of the mountain to keep Stone trolls off the steppes and bear the path for the Chaos warriors to descend from their peak.

One full quarter up the side of the mountain, the footing became treacherous and they had to abandon their steeds. Four days later, a massive blizzard hit. The shelter of a small cave maintained the remaining thirty knights. Snow had covered the entrance. Stories of childhood and prayers filled the air that night as the men preserved themselves on what they had left of their provisions.

The storm raged on. One knight by the name of Lucas had frozen to death in his sleep, and the rest of the surviving company became familiar with the stench of Death, and their own feces in the following days. It became doubtful that they would endure the storm. Ten of the men, not satisfied to let their knightly training leave them dead in an icy tomb used their shields to dig out and venture into the blizzard. They succeeded in leaving their dreary shelter, but what became of them would not be told by fortune or time. They were taken by the storm, and swallowed whole.

It was Riel’s executive decision to begin eating the dead. After four more of his men were lost to starvation, it was time to make some desperate lashes at death before they were all too weak to move. They were all disgusted with the fact of their decision, but it beat the alternative of a lonely death at the bony grip of hunger.

It only seemed to complete the hellish despondency of their impossible quest.

Albrecht looked on as Riel took the first bite, and then silently followed suit. It was not Riel that the men were looking to in these dark days, but the ingenious and powerful Albrecht.

His silence was a protest in itself to death and all of the knights admired his solidarity in the face of insanity.

The storm lifted Twenty-one days later. Emerging from the cave into the blinding snow, the visor of each Knight’s helmets provided little comfort. Black mountainous crags protruded from underneath the snow like teeth emerging from the lower jaw of a serpent that was consuming the world whole. They could now see the pinnacle of the mountain. Just before the top of the mountain was an incredible mighty Chaos fortress. A Fortress of this size could house all of the armies that have terrorized the southern empire for the last hundred years. The resilient war band stood in awe of the home of evil.

The spires extending from the fortress were jutting in impossible angles and from within its walls the screams of unspeakable creatures filled the sky.

General Riel reminded the men of their Quest. They came not to smite the armies of Chaos, but to uproot their power. He recalled the peak was the location in his dream. He confirmed to his men that they had not farther to go before they would see the demise of all chaos. They readied their swords in the anticipation of battle as they hiked past the Fortress. They remained stealthy as to pass the fortress unmolested.

The moment of truth arose, and they crested the last cliff. All eyes fixed on their final destination as all the men climbed up sheer cliffs and sharp rock faces. What was expected was a massive living tree of playing Chaos energy, an abomination of nature growing in an impossible and inhospitable place above the clouds. They rounded their ascent and what they found was a total shock…

Riel staggered forward fifteen paces ahead of his men. Standing before him was indeed a tree, but it was not as he expected. Instead of a Great tree with twisted branches, they found a small dead and blackened tree. This tree was nearly the height of a man, delicate and it surely would have toppled down under it’s own weight if it were not frozen solid.

There was no sign of chaos here, and there never was.

Snow began to fall. All that could be heard was the pounding of Riel’s heart.

The silence was split by the thundering footsteps of Albrecht charging up behind the veteran general. Riel spun in his place and met Albrecht’s sword directly with his belly. It penetrated his ornate armor and exited through his back. This was one final act of mutiny against a vein and arrogant general. The Look of sheer surprise was forever to be displayed on Riel’s stiffening face in this quiet and appropriate place. The survivors made no attempt to stop their new leader in his betrayal. They all gathered around the dying general. Albrecht spoke for the first time on the mountain.

“My brothers, you have endured much. You are stronger and better then normal men. Come with me, and I will show you the true root of chaos.”

Riel’s only reply was to choke on his own blood as he could feel the life slipping away from his freezing corpora. Smiling, the new knights of Chaos descended on one last meal…

The following year, the new Chaos lord Albrecht burned the Breton city of Klimdstadt to the ground. The survivors of the fall returned to the empire with the word of the chaos heraldry on their lips. A single dead tree adorned the evil army’s shields.

It cannot be said for what expression displayed on Albrecht’s face as he watched his childhood home burn to the ground. The flames framed Albrecht’s helmeted form.

A shout from one of his Knights eager of his command raised his attention.

Albrecht paused. “I know what you should do.” Hissed a voice from the shadows. It was the wizard Malchias. He emerged from the depth of darkness into the light of the fire and donned a helmet over his chaos armor. Human skin was stretched over his faceplate.

Two daemons emerged and followed suit in submission of the sorcerer…

“Trust me…”

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