Big ‘un can feel the cold rain running down her skin. The sensation contrasts starkly to the burning sensation of the seraphon spear lodged into her thigh. The troggoth pays it little mind though, she has a job. The seraphon of the Xarlanth have set up cannons, which have begun firing on the orruk camp. The starlight projectiles were burning the camp, leaving little of the targets they evaporated. Chunks of orruk, grot and troggoth alike were strewn across the battlefield, creating a gory mudfield. Big ‘un herself had been hit from behind, the starlight projectile having burned away most of the hide on her back. For a moment, the pain had been unbearable, but the troggoth had pressed on, because Razgor willed it. He had given her this task, because he trusted her, and she would not fail him. Shortly after, the skin had started regenerating and the pain faded.
Once the orruks had gotten closer to the seraphons cannons, they had sent saurus to meet them in the field, hoping to keep the orruk warband from destroying the artillery. The troggoth had been riddled with arrows, spears and darts alike, but that did not halt her. She marched on, because Razgor willed it. The saurus knights desperately tried to stop her advance, but their spears got stuck in the troggoth’s rapidly regenerating hide. Unable to move, Big ‘un smashed their weak steads aside. She was used to larger beasts. And as her flesh regenerated once more, gutrippaz fell, a great gnashtoof died, but Big ‘un kept marching, for she would not fail Razgor.
Things had gotten tougher as she got ever closer to the cannons. Only half her initial forces remained, either wiped by the cannons or cavalry. And as the small group closed in, the seraphon hit back. A massive roar sounded and the seraphon oldblood charged forward atop his carnosaur, followed by what remained of the seraphon forces. The massive beast ran right at the troggoth, who instinctively held up her arms in defence. The beast lept at her, its massive claws digging into her arms. She fell backwards as her clubs fell to the ground. The burning sensation returned as blood gushed down on her, the carnosaur continuing to dig into her. A bolt from a beastskewer bow staggered it, and gave her an opportunity. She grabbed one of her clubs which had fallen into the mud beside her and slammed it into the beast’s hip, causing it to fall onto its side. The rider on top roared as the weight of the beast crushed one of its legs. Big ‘un lays there, as the rain falls onto her. Her wounds around her neck and torso are quite grievous, blood flowing from them like a river. For a moment, she considers giving up. Just giving in to the moment, dying on a good hunt against a worthy foe, rain falling onto her face. But then she remembers she can’t die yet. Razgor needs her, he needs her to take out the cannons. And she does not fail Razgor. Not out of fear but because she respected him. Because he gave her purpose, because he showed her what life could be outside of hunting for food in a swamp. She could be more, Razgor showed her that, so she sat up. Her wounds started to heal once more, for even the most grievous of wounds can’t keep a troggoth down for long. As she sat up, she noticed the carnosaur charging at her once more. Every step it took, she could see the pain as it put down its left foot, but it did not cease its charge. Big ‘un slowly got up, but instead of picking up her clubs, she stood there. When the carnosaur finally got close enough, she punched its jaw so hard, she was certain she had heard the bones crack. The beast seemed stunned and the troggoth huntress took the opportunity. She forced its mouth open, and with all her might, pulled its jaws apart as hard as she could. With a sickening snap, the beast peeled apart and fell dead to the ground. Its oldblood rider desperately tried to get out of the saddle, but with its broken leg, it wasn’t getting very far. She grabbed him in one hand, and as she blew her hunting horn, the remaining kruleboyz formed up around her once more. Oldblood in hand, she marched at the artillery. Once she got there, she ignored the few skins manning the thing, letting the gutrippaz and boltboyz deal with them. Instead she turned her attention to the cannon itself. Using the hand she was holding the oldblood in, she slammed into hard. And over and over again, until little remained of the cannon, or the oldblood in her palm.
With that hard won victory, one of the artillery positions had been destroyed. Big ‘un looked at the horizon, a dozen more cannons still firing onto the orruk warcamp. This would be a very long day…
