Dînadan:
Going to try a little experiment here - a community written story. I will start a story and give four options; the next poster selects one of those options and continues the story for a bit before giving another four options; next poster selects one, continues, gives four options, and so on.
Rules are simple:
You need to write more than the bare minimum, so no one seen entice continuations, but at the same time, keep to a reasonable length, so don’t go writing a whole chapter by your self. Two to three paragraphs should do it. 
Keep suprise twists reasonable - a hobgoblin whipping out a knife and backstabbing = good; a whole army of elves popping out from behind a rock = bad
This is set in the WH Fantasy universe, so try to keep to thing that fit within that universe (so no Space Marines :p)
Remember to give four options at the end of your post.
When posting, put the option you selected at the top of your post.
If you want to make comments on the story, put them under a row of asterisk like ****************** at the end of your post after your four options.
Well, with the boring ing stuff out of the way, let’s begin.
Hagrazz shaded his eyes, squinting against the glare of the noon sun as he surveyed the land ahead. Below the promontory the Daemonsmith crouched on marched the army of Overlord Krahrz Cinderbeard, steadily making their way through High Pass on a slaving raid into Kislev and the nation arrogantly named ‘The Empire’. Steep cliffs boarded either side of this part of the pass, and the road was cracked and broken by exposure to the elements. It was not the well ordered ranks of Dwari Zharr soldiers, the raucous rabble of the hobgoblin tribes that accompanied them, nor the layout of the bolders scattered across the path or those perched precariously on the cliffs above that drew his attention, but the squabbling mass of grobi camped out in the centre of the pass half a mile ahead, oblivious the the advance of Cinderbeard’s army.
Hagrazz chewed thoughtfully on a candied elf eye, a delicacy back home in Zharr-Naggrund and his favourite confectionry. The grobi were nothing more than a small band of Night Goblins and would be easy pickings, but he was still troubled. Night Goblins favoured the dark, cool places beneath the ground and loathed to come out into the sun light unless nesseccary and would hastily retreat back to their lairs as soon as able; these ones seemed content to sit out in disorganised groups around ragged tents in the open sunlight. They would also complicate things; even if this were not a trap, the army was sure to lose some hobgoblins or even dwarfs in the skirmish and would gain too few slaves to make up for it, especially as the prices for grobi were on the decline in the slave markets back home.
Tugging his beard, Hagrazz turned to his apprentice and said:
A) “Hurry to Cinderbeard and advise him to halt the order of march.”
B) “Tell the engineers to unload the warmachines, they’ll be needed.”
C) “I do not like this. Something is wrong; I feel it in my bones.”
D) “Prepare the K’daai; I fear they will be needed.”
Geist:
E) “Unlimber the dreadquake battery and begin firing.”
Fuggit Khan:
I really, really like this idea…sadly I suck at story telling, otherwise I’d join in. The bit of the candied elf eye is brilliant :cheers
Geist:
Herby and Fuggit Khan, the both of you: You only get better at writing be it in English or other tongues by doing it. So no more sloughing and put your ideas to pen and type them out.
Bloodbeard:
"Hurry to Cinderbeard and advise him to halt the order of march."
Hagrazz was already annoyed and now he even had to raise his vioce.
“Do you have ash in your ears you dimwit? I said: Hurry to Cinderbeard and advice him to stop!” The apprentice, a distant cousin only about a century old, hurried down a rocky path toward the army.
Expect the unexpected, Hagrazz knew to expect the unexpected. Just when a warmachine seemed to by working, there would always be something. “Light the anger. Wake him up!”, he said towards the engineer crew of the death shrieker rocket launcher.
Two dawi zharr, bare arms, heavy aprons and large blackshard gloves uncovered a large rocket. A third crew member ran a torch over the the rocket, arcane runes starting to glow. The missile let out a cry of angry hate, starting to vibrate.
Looking down into the pass, Hagrazz saw he apprentice near Castellan Cinderbreath and his dread guard. Damn Cinderbreath and his ignorant lust for slaughter. … The warhorn sounded, the army advanced.
A: The goblin camp woke up and scrambled about. And so did something in the mountain sides…
B: "This is gonna be bloody boys. Load the daemon rocket!"
C: The army advanced in orderly columns, not noticing…
D: Hagrazz mumbled: “This will be the last time we ever disagree!”
Dînadan:
A: The goblin camp woke up and scrambled about. And so did something in the mountain sides…
Loose boulders tumbled down from high up the cliff faces to either side, followed by insane giggling and screams. From either side of the pass, six blood-orange blobs, chained in pairs bounded out of secret caves that had been concealed behind the boulders and down onto the unsuspecting hobgoblin vanguard.
Two of the mangler squigs burst on impact, causing their partners to flail themselves to death, and a third broke a leg from the hundred plus foot fall, but was unslowed. Hagrazz cursed and turned his attention from the carnage to the cliff sides. From the caves in the wake of the manglers poured a vast herd of regular cave squigs, some unbelievably being used as mounts by their night goblin handlers; well, not that unbelievable reflected the Daemonsmith, remembering that insanity was an innate trait in that breed of greenskin. Hagrazz shook his head in disdain.
As the hobgoblins swarmed over the mangler squigs and squabbled over how best to meet the ‘charge’ of the bouncing orange and green lunatics, Hagrazz was surprised to see more black robed grobi pouring from the caves, this time riding large, pale-skinned spiders. The Daemonsmith turned to his second apprentice and said "Blasted grobi scum; what more devilry do they have planned?"
As if to answer him:
A) a roar came from above, followed by a hurled boulder from a giant.
B ) from one cave came a deep chittering as an araknorok squeezed itself from the mountainside.
C) the winds of magic stirred and an enormous green foot slammed down from the heavens into the middle of Ciderbeard’s bodyguards.
D) the path behind the Chaos Dwarf lines erupted into fire as black powder looted from a dwarf outpost was lit in subterrainian caves, collapsing the road behind them.
Bloodbeard:
A) a roar came from above, followed by a hurled boulder from a giant.
B ) from one cave came a deep chittering as an araknorok squeezed itself from the mountainside.
C) the winds of magic stirred and an enormous green foot slammed down from the heavens into the middle of Ciderbeard's bodyguards.
D) the path behind the Chaos Dwarf lines erupted into fire as black powder looted from a dwarf outpost was lit in subterrainian caves, collapsing the road behind them.
Dînadan
Damn.
It doesn't look good for this small band of slave raiders. ... I better send a prayer to Hashut.
Admiral:
The path behind the Chaos Dwarf lines erupted into fire as black powder looted from a Dwarf outpost was lit in subterranean caves, collapsing the road behind them. A din like thunder and hooves of the Father of Darkness himself shook the mountain side and sent loose rocks from high above crashing down, crushing Grobi, Hobgoblin and Dawi Zharr alike.
The jaded Daemonsmith, hardened beyond the ken of the slavish races, stared dumbfounded, mouth agape and dark eyes wide. How could lowly Grobi possibly be capable of such an act? It seemed impossible.
He stared as the eroded floor of the mountain pass one moment flashed in escaped flames from the blackpowder explosion, only to fall down as cracked boulders into the depths below. Hobgoblins in the rear column fled for their lives, clambering up the steep rock face or trampling each other in a cacophony of shrieks which barely registered through the roar of rocks.
He stared as wolf riders dug their feet into their mounts’ flanks to escape, only adding to the carnage by stabbing and biting wildly as the wave of Hobgoblins slammed into a veritable bottle-neck and entangled themselves in a wall of flailing limbs and heads. The bottle-neck was formed by the rear steel face of a halted artillery train in a narrow passage between two defiled, ancient Dwarf statues. The haughty Chaos Dwarf crew of the backmost-towed Magma Cannon lashed out with whips, sharpened shovels and axes to keep away the panicked Greenskin rabble from their prized warmachines.
He stared as Chaos ruled, and he thought he could hear the cruel laughter of Daemons from the Realm beyond in the ear-stabbing rolling thunder of collapsing rocks. Thick clouds of grey dust and blackish smoke quickly enveloped the scene. Barely conscious of doing so, he counted at least seven ill omens in the swirling smoke.
“The Leaden Trampled!” Hagrazz Orcmaimer exclaimed, breaking the spell amongst the Deathshrieker crew and Hobgoblin escorts around him, snapping them into a frenzy of activity and barking orders left and right. They, and his second apprentice, had to partake in the battle immediately, yet he had more important matters to settle.
Hagrazz lashed out towards a chained gaggle of badly bruised and barely clothed Dark Lands Grobi lying on the ground nearby, breathing frantically and exhausted after the backbreaking toil of hauling the rocket launcher up to this good vantage point. The closest of the Grobi did not even have time to scream before the Daemonsmith Engineer’s metal-gloved hand closed around his green throat and pulled him up into the air, as high as the Chaos Dwarf’s arm could reach. The rest of the chain gang was dragged along, screaming and clawing, connected by shackles and black iron links between their ankles.
“Matzhkra!” Hagrazz chanted. “By thy Divine Master’s strength! Hear me! Hear me! Hear me!” The Grobi chain gang wailed and shrieked as the suffocating slave’s impish face took on a purple nuance.
The Orcmaimer knew he had shamed himself in high Hashut’s view by showing surprise at the devious trap down below. Perhaps one of lower caste could be excused after offering penitence and lesser sacrifice to the great Bull God, but not one as himself. It was a taint on his honour bordering on service with the Legion of Azgorh. Hagrazz was determined to make up for it.
He pulled a bizarrely crafted vial of spiked bronze and obsidian out of one of his Kurgan-skin belt pouches. “O, Daemonic Harlot, fell deeds meet fell deeds,” he yelled as a Dwarf-high Squig tumbled down a cliff high above and was smashed into a gory pulp when it hit the rock two feet away from Hagrazz. The nearby Hobgoblins pulled throwing knives and began hurling them up the cliff. He didn’t care to notice.
The vial’s cap was shaped like a hooked arrow head. He plunged it through one eye into the skull of the strangled Grobi. It spasmed violently in his unyielding grip as he pulled out the hooked cap from the flask. Black steam poured out.
“As Hashut rules thine soul, so shalt thou succumb to my will. Heed me!” Hagrazz eased his grip on the Grobi’s throat, making it gasp for air, arrow cap still planted in what was once its right eye. Arrows of the foreign Grobi of these mountains began showering down around Hagrazz, plinking off his high helmet and silencing two of the chain gang Grobi.
"Through thy power, o concubine of the Bull, I seize command of the vile Daemon Yxdracnilk. May he, like thou, remain slave until banishment or death. He is mine. May his claws not tear my soul asunder, but claim that of this sacrifice. Witness. All for Hashut!"
With these words, Hagrazz Orcmaimer’s eyes flared like the furnace. He stabbed down the vial’s throat into the Grobi’s. Within a moment the slave went rigid, then shook and jerked violently in Hagrazz’ grip. Black cracks started to break out all over its green body. Black steam poured forth from the cracks, and within heartbeats the Goblin’s flesh fell apart in small, darkened pieces as if it had been nothing but a pillar of gravel. The rest of the chain gang Grobi screamed like mad at the sight.
“Enough of this feasting!” snarled Hagrazz. He had not moved his fingers an inch whilst the slave disintegrated between them. With his other hand he pulled forth a golden chain with a Taurus hoof amulet dangling from it. Carved into the large hoof were red-glowing Dark Tounge runes. The Daemonsmith recited them in a venomous tone whilst he carefully placed the amulet in his outstretched hand, still held as if to strangulate.
Black steam from the slave corpse seeped into the fiery runes on the sacred hoof as Hagrazz summoned all his sorcerous power and spoke the sealing words with a sadistic smirk on his graven face.
“Eye for an eye…” he quoted as…
A ) …the din of battle in the pass took on a high pitch when hundreds of Grobi ambushers - and not a few Hobgoblins - in swift succession had their right eye ripped out by claws of black steam.
B ) …the rock floor collapsed under the Grobi camp ahead, drowning ragged tents and thousands of filthy Greenskins in a torrent of rock and dust.
C ) …dozens of fiery Daemons swept out from torches and flames in the Chaos Dwarf host, burning bright as they sought out one cave opening each and incinerated their way towards it.
D ) …the pale monster spiders suddenly went wild, spilling cascades of boiling ichor and blood that scalded and scared the Grobi around them.
Dînadan:
A ) …the din of battle in the pass took on a high pitch when hundreds of Grobi ambushers - and not a few Hobgoblins - in swift succession had their right eye ripped out by claws of black steam.
"…A Tooth for a Tooth…" the Daemonsmith continued as the black steam descended the faces of the half-blind greenskins, slicing their gums and splinting their teeth.
"…A Nail for a Nail!" he roared as the steam swept lower and ripped the goblins’ nails from their fingers and toes.
"…A Grievance Shall Be REPAID!" his voice reached a crescendo and the mist blew across the battlefield, bringing with it blood, bone and nails, coalescing into an ethereal form before him. With a booming laugh, he hurled the vial, shattering it at the feet of the shadowy figure. Fire erupted, swirling amid the black steam, forming into a giant bull-headed man of shadow and flame. Hagrazz grinned; in his youth he had journied far and wide, and in the lands of Arabay he had learned the art of elemental mastery, which he had long combined with the traditional teachings of the Dawi Zharr to create his own brand of daemonsmithing.
Hagrazz took a deep breath and…
A) began chanting, binding the new born K’daai to the dormant Destroyer armour chained nearby.
B ) pointed towards the camp, ordering the daemon to attack it.
C) pointed back at the gaping chasm the explosion had opened behind the Chaos Dwarfs and roared for it to slay the goblins pouring out of it.
D) laughed manically, as the elemental descended on the nearest grobi filth.
MadHatter:
A) began chanting, binding the new born K’daai to the dormant Destroyer armour chained nearby. The brazen eyelids of the Destroyer slowly opened and hellfire sprouted through the empty sockets, Hagrazz still chanting pointed a gnarled finger towards the grobi and the chains snapped as the beast rose and with a deafening fiery roar it turned towards the greenskins.
A ) A great shadow fell upon the Daemonsmith…
B ) A thundering boom threw Hagrazz on his back as the Destroyer exploded…
C ) Hagrazz smiled and the earth shook as the Destroyer thundered towards the panicking greenskins…
D ) The Chaos Dwarf Warriors aswell as Hobgoblins began to reform, their spirits brightened by the sight of the giganting flaming brass-daemon…
Dînadan:
C ) Hagrazz smiled and the earth shook as the Destroyer thundered towards the panicking greenskins…
With each step the destroyer picked up speed, and at a dozen or so yards from the goblin camp, it leapt into the air, bounding over the rickety palisade and crashed down in a fury of bronze and fire amid the tents and shacks.
Buoyed by the sight of the destroyer, the hobgoblins and dwarfen warriors rallied, forming up once more, and the crews of the warmachines organised themselves, hastily prepping their charges. As the hobgoblins raced forwards in the wake of the destroyer, and iron clad warriors advanced in step to meet the charge of the goblins pouring from the hole, hundreds of pounds of metal filled the air, soaring over their heads; shrieking rockets fired from batteries, booming shells hurled from mortars and molten slag squirted from magma cannons. To Hagrazz’s eyes the sight was glorious.
Grinning, he drew an iron flask from his robe and set it on his upturned left palm. Muttering words of power, he summoned a fireball to wreath the flask, boiling its contents. As he heard the liquid inside boil, he took a deep breath and blew out the flames. Carefully, he unscrewed the lid, and from a pouch drew out a sachet, adding its white powdered contents to the flask. He recorked it, gave it a shake to mix the powder in and opened it once more. Delicately, he pulled from a pouch on his belt, a fine bone cup from Cathay, and poured the flask into in. With a smile he sniffed the tea, relishing its aroma, confident that the battle was won and that he could take time to enjoy himself.
He was about to take a sip, when the smile dropped from his lips as…
A) he saw Overlord Cinderbeard marching furiously in his direction.
B) he saw the destroyer keel over, scorched goblins swarming over it, tearing the armoured sections apart
C) he felt blood trickling down his forehead.
D) a sharp spike of pain pierced his back betwixt the lowest two left ribs.