There were two other forces of Templars attacking the rotten caverns.
Guided by Priests of Our Burning Saviour on ornate discs, the Dragon Ogors had gathered in easily defensible positions above the caverns.
First destabilizing the caverns below with mighty and joyous stampedes, they subsequently gathered to conjure magnificent lightning strikes upon the spots indicated by the Tzaangor Priests, who had seen them in the Flames. The Dragon Ogors caused tremors and extreme shifts in the caverns below, further collapsing tunnels and caves, hopelessly burying the Maggotkin’s armies beneath tons of stone.
Those of the Nurglites foolish enough to leave their caverns for the surfaces ran into the welcoming arms of Holy Flamers or Dragon Ogors, who tore the Maggotkin apart with their bare hands.
At sea, a Templar fleet under deep red sails and banners found itself engaged in battle with the Nurglites’ submarine fleet. Under normal circumstances, the engagement would naturally end in a decisive defeat; the Tzaangor, however, utilized crystals of power to channel Ulguan magic, engulfing the submarines in supernatural darkness; tendrils of pure blackness strangled the rusty vessels until they broke, some were dragged into the shadow itself.
Those who rose to the surface were easy targets for the Templars’ arcane artillery.
It was a quick, vicious strike.
From the ships, squadrons of Templars on discs emerged, escorting carriages of Tzeentch. Mounted upon the daemonic carriages were ornate contraptions, Holy Monoliths cut from deep blue crystals of pure arcane power. Red banners hung from the carriages, proclaiming the Might of Our Burning Saviour in the face of the enemy. Each of these carriages were followed by a red-robed priest of Our Burning Saviour, reciting scripture and conducting a most sacred ritual.
With the help of these Monoliths, the Tzaangor Priests could project the energy of the defunct realmgate over great distances, and as had been predicted, the realmgate activated once the Templars were in reach.
From out the Monoliths, pure ethereal Magic flooded, the purest, deepest power of Ghur, which, guided by the priests, coalesced and flooded the caverns before them.
Large Nurglite forces had gathered at the mouth of the cavern entrance, bellowing in mirth at the incoming Tzaangor Crusaders, brandishing their rusted weapons and, in the case of the Nurglings, tumbling over each other in excitement. Flocks of Pusgoyle Blightlords and other corrupted diseased creatures emerged from their holes to intercept the Templars, but it was too late.
As the stream of pure Ghurish Magic hit the land, the caverns began to transform, to warp – to take on the very essence of Ghur, that of a predator. From split rock sprang teeth and claws, maws of razor-sharp protrusions biting down upon the Nurglite usurpers befouling the land. In scores they were smashed, squelched, devoured by the very landmass they had used as hideout.
The Templars retreated, their mission accomplished, leaving the carnage and destruction behind. The Nurglites on bloatflies were shot down by the more nimble Tzaangor Skyfires, or the arcane artillery mounted on the warships.
The magic would certainly reach deep into the rot tunnels, crippling the Nurglites abilities to wage war. But the Templars would only stop once they were completely eradicated.
