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Welcome to Chaos Dwarfs Online, your online Chaos Dwarf community!

Mission Statement: So long as the popularity of Warhammer continues, a source is needed for the Chaos Dwarf army to keep pace. Chaos Dwarfs Online provides a community with a forum for members to learn about, inform others about, contribute to, and evolve the Chaos Dwarf army in a welcoming and open minded environment. Chaos Dwarf generals, old and new, can unite under a common banner that Chaos Dwarfs Online is happy to provide.
Disclaimer: Chaos Dwarfs Online is a non-profit website that seeks to serve members of the Warhammer community. All content found within Chaos Dwarfs Online is completely unofficial and is in no way endorsed by Games Workshop. Chaos Dwarfs Online is run by Warhammer fans who love the game of Warhammer. All discussions of Games Workshop's intellectual property are intended to constitute fair use practises.

Enjoy your stay, signed The Staff

Golden Hat #17

Posted by: Nicodemus - 04-24-2012 03:30 AM - Replies (106)

Welcome to the 17th Golden Hat competition!

Subject Matter
For this Golden Hat competition we want to see your War Machines! This could be something pre-8th Edition, such as a Hobgoblin Bolt Thrower, a Tenderiser, an Earthshaker Cannon; it could be something from the Legion of Azgorh list, such as an Iron Daemon, a Magma Cannon; or perhaps something of your own creation!  Please keep in mind, if this is a Warmachine of your own creation, it should still be recognizable as a warmachine, not a K'daai Destroyer or something else.  Yes, technically the Hellcannon, and the older Seige Cannon (aka "Ass-cannon"), are Monsters, but these the only Chaos Dwarf pieces that we're going to allow to cross-over into this competition.

Your Warmachine must be Chaos Dwarf-related, but beyond that it may be operated by a number of Chaos Dwarf(s), Bull Centaur(s), Hobgoblin(s), Slave(s), etc.

EDIT: Restrictions on basing have been lifted. Any kind of base will be permitted. Additionally, while a war machine typically will have crew, this is not a requirement any longer (nor is there a limitation on the maximum number of crew). Ogre slaves and other beasts used in the service of the Machine of War are permitted, and this can include monsters of any size or description. The war machine itself ought to be the focus , however. We want to see the coolest Chaos Dwarf war machines ever constructed in the depths of Zharr Naggrund!

Also:
Display bases, plinths, as well as diorama style bases, are allowed.
The full rules for basing can be found here.

Specifics
Subject: 1 Chaos Dwarf War Machine
The due Date: 11:59 PM June 30th, 2012 EST (Eastern Standard Timezone)

Please read the full rules that apply to the Golden Hat competition before submitting your entry.

What is the deadline?
Once again, this is the same basic premise as previous Golden Hats; send all entries to the Golden Hat account no later 11:59 PM June 30th, 2012 EST (Eastern Standard Timezone). Entries will not be accepted after that date and time regardless of how cool your submission is. (Entrants have ~5 weeks to complete entries).

If, for some reason, you are having trouble with your submission, contact one of the Staff. In order to avoid problems, entrants should not wait until the last minute to submit their entries...

How to Enter
Upload up to 4 photos of your entries to the Internet.  Next, send a PM to Golden Hat (a special user that all Staff have access to) containing the links where the pictures can be found. (Note: This is the same as previous Golden Hats).

If you win:
- Walk across the backs of the cowed masses you have scorned and pushed aside, in order to take your place in the vaunted Golden Hat Hall of Fame.
- The top entry will also receive a Forge World Hellsmith, courtesy of Grimstonefire, which includes 'free' postage (up to a value of £3, any additional postage cost will need to be paid for by the winner) -- the perfect accompanying character for your prize-winning warmachine!!
- Receive the Golden Hat medal for your online persona *
- Everyone who enters gets a number of slaves equal to the number of entries. If 20 people enter we award 20 slaves to each person who entered.

*= As with previous Golden Hats; if there are more then 10 entrants the silver and bronze Golden Hat Medals will be awarded as well.

Entries will count towards a veteran medal.

Once all entries are received a thread will be created for voting within the first week of July, 2012. If there are any questions please send a PM to myself, another Staff member or post them here.  Ideally post them here so that everyone can benefit from any details or clarifications that may arise.

~N

Artisan's Contest XII Winners

Posted by: Nicodemus - 04-22-2012 12:19 AM - Replies (6)

The final votes for ACXII are in, without further ado:

In 3rd place, with a Bronze medal is ThommyH
2nd place, and a Silver medal finish, is cornixt
and out of nowhere, for the gold medal finish, with "The Most Powerful Weapon of All" is the darkhorse bitterman!

Well done to all the entrants. As promised, each entrant will receive 18 slaves... and yes, it should have been 16 (one for each entrant), except that I miscounted in my initial posting, so the additional slaves will be coming from my most-productive salt mines. I hope they serve you all well!

And just for the record, here's the breakdown of the entries from the original ACXII post:

silentbob27 Limerick of the Life Drinker Axe
zargon the black From the Black forge of Zargon
DAGabriel Traveler`s fate
Borador Star of Zharr-Naggrund
Bitterman The Most Powerful Weapon of All
vulcanologist ODE TO THE IMMORTAL AXE
ThommyH The Hammer of Zharr
Nicodemus The Epic of Deephack Choppera
fonejaker The Dagger Of Malice
Rolemodeld Hierarchy
RTMaitreya AWAKEN, AZTHROMM-THOGI!
Herby For the greater good of god
Abecedar Storm Brothers
cornixt There once was an axe
Obsidian Muse The Three Questions of Priming
frostbit3 Ode to the Magma Cannon

Congratulations once again to all - and thanks to those who voted for mine Wink

Artisan's Contest XII Tie Breaker

Posted by: Nicodemus - 04-18-2012 01:57 PM - Replies (1)

The votes for Artisan's Contest XII are in. We already know the Bronze medal winner, however, we have a tie for 1st place. We're going to hold a very short duration timed poll, for only 3 days, to determine which entry will be awarded the much-coveted Gold Artisan's medal, and which will be awarded the Silver medal.

Get your vote in by April 21st, after which we will officially announce the winners!

The two entries you are choosing between are:

Entry #5
The Most Powerful Weapon of All

Thunder rumbled across the plain, echoing back and forth as though the gods were fighting in the heavens. Foreboding black clouds blocked out the weak rays of the sun, clouds that glowed red, reflecting the fires that raged out of control in the city below, and the rivers of magma that formed a moat around the Iron Ziggurat.

Atop that towering edifice stood the diminutive, black-armoured form of the Sorcerer-Prophet Avvar Khul. Even now, at the height of the storm, the wind lashed at him; but he stood as solid as stone - a comparison with a basis in literal truth, for his feet and ankles had long since turned to granite, an unwanted side effect of the terrible arcane powers he wielded.

Khul's tusked countenance held an expression of pure hatred and anger. Gazing down from the topmost level of the ziggurat, he looked on the hordes of greenskins that were besieging the city; from this height, they looked like toy soldiers, but even at this distance, their guttural shouting and bellowing was a cacophony of violent threat. From the base of the ziggurat to the horizon, the Orcs and Goblins swarmed; a rabble of former slaves, yes, but an army of brutes also, an army the likes of which the Dawi Zharr had never before had to face.

Behind Khul, his great rival Drakh Aghul spoke up. "Your arrogance has doomed us all, Avvar Khul. We cannot stand against these Black Orcs that were our warrior-slaves. You underestimated them and now we all will die for it. Our end has come."

Khul sneered, and did not waste effort turning to face him. "Silence your cowardly tongue, Aghul. There is one factor in our favour that you have not considered. We have a weapon of which the Black Orcs are not aware; a weapon against which there is no defence."

This gave Aghul pause. "What weapon is this? I have heard of no new artillery piece being produced by the forges."

"Of course not," cackled Khul, amused by his rival's stupidity. "This weapon… is treachery…"

Far below, almost lost among the teeming masses of greenskins, a Hobgoblin Khan looked up at Khul and met his gaze. Around him, his underlings skulked and plotted, curved daggers in hand. The Sorcerer-Prophet felt nothing but contempt in his black heart for the Khan and all his ilk; but times were pressing, and this needed to be done. His face set grim, he raised his right arm to the heavens and formed a clenched fist; and below, from within the very ranks of the enemy, the most powerful weapon of all was unleashed...

Entry #14
There once was an axe
There once was an axe from Flayed Rock
Whose edge was as dull as a sock
His owner was skilled
But no blood was spilled
And the Orc head received just a knock

Pointing out some rules here at CDO

Posted by: Willmark - 04-11-2012 11:34 PM - Replies (11)

Hello everyone.

I wanted to take a moment and do that part of the Admin role that is never fun, pointing out some house keeping stuff and some rules.

Topic #1
Recently an issue has arisen in the Marketplace regarding purchasing items through contact with members of the site. First a bit of history: Since the sites inception the rules for the Marketplace have been the same and can be found here:  For a number of years that sticky was in the Marketplace and then we consolidated all of the rules in 2009 here.

With all that said nothing has changed; it is not Chaos Dwarf Online’s policy to get involved in transactions or transaction disputes regarding members. The section in question is a courtesy provided by CDO and nothing more. In short it is, and always has been a use at your own discretion. The Staff will only step in should there be a need to take disciplinary action with a person in question. This is problematic as then there is no way to contact the person in terms of a dispute if we should have to ban. The Staff is actively discussing this as to the best course of action regarding any member(s) in question that might engage in such activity.

Topic #2
Copyright as it pertains to CDO. Copyright here (as in the terms of Warhammer) is a convoluted topic. By copyright law the IP of Chaos Dwarfs as it pertains to Warhammer is the property of GW. As such no expectations of copyright can be claimed per say* How this pertains to CDO? Recently we have had some “ahem” demands from a member to delete their posts, threads, art, etc. First a few things; as a site we are not legally obligated to delete anything unless it is infringing on GWs copyright. If you place something on the Internet you largely give up rights (if indeed there are any). You should not  have a real expectation of privacy regarding this. Also don’t confuse the Internet with free speech. When you join and post at CDO you are on a server that is paid by someone. Free speech is generally followed by most site owners, but you cannot make a claim to free speech when you are on a server that is paid for by someone else. In short their $, their rules. Here at CDO we are pretty lenient when it comes to this. But the point needs to be reiterated: you don't "own" your posts. Also being a jack wagon isn't cause for us to go through the site and clean your posts.

There is no way the staff is going to be everyone’s secretary deleting stuff. If you are not under a ban you can delete your own posts, threads are not deleteable by the users for obvious reasons. In short it probably behooves folks to consider what they post prior to unleashing it on the web. Trying to police this would be a near impossible task and a thankless one at that. You can bluster, threaten legal action all you want, etc, probably not going to get you anywhere. With a truly global site trying to force action against CDO is a pretty tough task. The owner is in Canada and the server in the USA and the staff worldwide. I don’t even want to imagine the jurisdiction issues on that one!

Regarding others works. While IP rights might not apply it’s poor form to take someone else’s work without asking if it can be used in the first place. Best bet is to contact the person’s whose works it is prior to posting, not after.

In spite of my better judgment I’ll leave this open for commentary. I do ask that those parties involved do not dredge up the particulars of the reasons for this post.

If you have points you want to raise either air them here or send a PM to the Staff member you most feel comfortable with.

Thanks,
WM

* Note, I’m not a lawyer nor do I play one on TV, but have had a few encounters/discussions of IP before.  Arguments can be made as to the validity of IP statements one way or the other, but suffice of to say short of lawyers hashing it out in court it’s something to avoid here.

Artisan's Contest XII Entries & Voting

Posted by: Nicodemus - 04-03-2012 03:10 AM - Replies (14)

Presented below are the 16 (!!) entries we received for Artisan's Contest XII.

How to vote
We're unable to run a poll for this one as the site only supports 10 choices in a poll Wink

   Instead, choose your favourite 3 entries and then send a PM to staff (that oh-so special user that all Staff have access to).  And, of course, please give yourselves some time to read the entries!

Get your 3 votes in by April 13th, the cutoff time will be 11:59pm EST, after which we will start a new thread to officially announce the winners.  As there were more than 10 entries there will be gold, silver and bronze medals awarded.

The entrants will be given 16 slaves each once the winners have been announced.  Now, on with the entries!

Entry #1
Limerick of the Life Drinker Axe

There once was a bound axe from Uzkulak,
Who drank lots of blood with a "Whack! Whack!".
It said, with a swish,
"Gore is my favorite dish.
Now bury me in that guys back."

Entry #2
From the Black forge of Zargon

Zargon allowed himself a brief smile. The axe he had made was fine work. Carved as one piece from black obsidian, the head was shaped to resemble one of the great wolves that prowled through the Darklands. Two large rubies were set as eyes on either side of the wolf’s head and a baleful presence could be seen staring out of the jewels.

The binding had been difficult. To bind such a powerful demon has cost Zargon many slaves and many rare reagents that he was still yet to replace. That didn’t mater now though. Running his hand along the haft the axe literally pulsed with power.

“Yes” thought the Sorcerer “This will fetch a high price”

Zargon’s avarice shone in his eyes like liquid fire. He would take the axe to the great markets of Uzkulak and trade it to the Kurgan for untold riches and slaves. Now however, it was time to test his creation. Zargon hefted the weapon by the leather handgrip, the hide he had personally flayed from the back of an ogre slave. He ordered his hobgoblin attendants to bring forward the prisoner. Dragged before him in chains was a human male, a merchant from one of the weak human realms known as The Empire.

With one swift stroke the wolf headed axe bit deep into the human back between the shoulder blades. A faint howling could be heard on the wind, the rubies on the axe began to shine like miniature suns. The prisoner’s body seemed to fold in on itself till all that was left was dry skin stretched tight like a drum across his bones. All this occurred within a brief few seconds. The glow from the gems was all-ready fading as Zargon withdrew the axe, holding it before his face.

“Yes…” said Zargon to himself “A high price indeed!”

Entry #3
Traveler`s fate

a Haiku from Nippon, made by a survivor.

"Dread Hashut`s glowing axe,
blood drops fall
like cherry blossoms."

Entry #4
Star of Zharr-Naggrund

Glowing, red as dawn,
Forged under a crescent moon,
Cleaving open souls

In days now long gone,
My name, to my foes well-known,
Shivering their spines

Many a man fell,
I, shining ever brighter,
Star of Zharr-Naggrund

Entry #5
The Most Powerful Weapon of All

Thunder rumbled across the plain, echoing back and forth as though the gods were fighting in the heavens. Foreboding black clouds blocked out the weak rays of the sun, clouds that glowed red, reflecting the fires that raged out of control in the city below, and the rivers of magma that formed a moat around the Iron Ziggurat.

Atop that towering edifice stood the diminutive, black-armoured form of the Sorcerer-Prophet Avvar Khul. Even now, at the height of the storm, the wind lashed at him; but he stood as solid as stone - a comparison with a basis in literal truth, for his feet and ankles had long since turned to granite, an unwanted side effect of the terrible arcane powers he wielded.

Khul's tusked countenance held an expression of pure hatred and anger. Gazing down from the topmost level of the ziggurat, he looked on the hordes of greenskins that were besieging the city; from this height, they looked like toy soldiers, but even at this distance, their guttural shouting and bellowing was a cacophony of violent threat. From the base of the ziggurat to the horizon, the Orcs and Goblins swarmed; a rabble of former slaves, yes, but an army of brutes also, an army the likes of which the Dawi Zharr had never before had to face.

Behind Khul, his great rival Drakh Aghul spoke up. "Your arrogance has doomed us all, Avvar Khul. We cannot stand against these Black Orcs that were our warrior-slaves. You underestimated them and now we all will die for it. Our end has come."

Khul sneered, and did not waste effort turning to face him. "Silence your cowardly tongue, Aghul. There is one factor in our favour that you have not considered. We have a weapon of which the Black Orcs are not aware; a weapon against which there is no defence."

This gave Aghul pause. "What weapon is this? I have heard of no new artillery piece being produced by the forges."

"Of course not," cackled Khul, amused by his rival's stupidity. "This weapon… is treachery…"

Far below, almost lost among the teeming masses of greenskins, a Hobgoblin Khan looked up at Khul and met his gaze. Around him, his underlings skulked and plotted, curved daggers in hand. The Sorcerer-Prophet felt nothing but contempt in his black heart for the Khan and all his ilk; but times were pressing, and this needed to be done. His face set grim, he raised his right arm to the heavens and formed a clenched fist; and below, from within the very ranks of the enemy, the most powerful weapon of all was unleashed...

Entry #6
"ODE TO THE IMMORTAL AXE"

Sharp is your biting face
Great warlord o' the Dawi Race
Above them all you take your place
To render stomach, neck or guts
Well are you worthy of this grace
As Honed and keen you stay.

The groaning corpse carts that you fill
We'r at home or on distant hill
Your edge would help toil and till
In our time of need
Gore drips like sweat thru' pores emerge
Like nectar beads of red.

Your razor glow short labour shares
To cut them up without a care
And into their gushing innards bright
To dig their graveditch
Oh make that most glorious sight
Warm, steaming and rich.

Heed now your mighty golden head
That leaves the earth trembling in it's stead
Clasped in a fist this curse'd blade
That makes sweet music
As legs and arms and heads will pass
As if a scythe through summer's grass.

Hashut make our kin your care
Where no weakling race would dare
To raise aloft such mighty blade
Make cause to tremble in it's shade
Your Daemon fire inside burns bright
To lead our people through the night.

Entry #7
The Hammer of Zharr

Ghorth gave a curt gesture and the huge hammer was carried across the throne room by four struggling slaves. Without even looking in their direction, Zhatan grabbed the black-iron haft in one mailed fist and lifted its brutal, blunt head to eye level. He regarded it for a long moment through the eye-slits of his ever-present mask and then let it drop to the floor. A crack snaked its way across the granite flagstone where it landed.

"Well?"

"It appears...well-made."

Ghorth clasped his hands before him as he leant back in his obsidian throne. He had risen to his current position as the most powerful and influential Sorcerer Lord in Zharr-Naggrund by, amongst other things, always keep a close watch on his innermost thoughts and feelings, but even his iron self-control was tested by Zhatan's reaction to this priceless gift. What did he expect though? Zhatan was nothing but savagery and hate. He probably had no conception of what it was he now held.

"Tell me, Zhatan, do you know the story of that hammer?"

"I have no interest in stories, Lord Ghorth."

"No. I suppose you do not. Very well, allow me to advance your education further still than I have already. That weapon you now hold is the Hammer of Zharr. Surely even you have heard that name, yes?"

Zhatan nodded silently.

"Indeed. The Hammer of Zharr predates all that you or I know. Long before Zhargon's rule, when our great empire was in its infancy, that weapon you now hold was a simple tool – the hammer of a workman, used for crude labour. None now know when it was forged and by whom. No doubt its beginnings were inauspicious: utilitarian. But, as you say, it was well-made. We might imagine it belonged to some senior mason or other or perhaps, even then, it was a badge of office for the master of a now-forgotten guild of artisans. In either case, Sorcerers of old have consulted the ashes of the Hellforges and they confirmed that it was indeed the hammer that was used to break the ground when the foundations of Zharr-Naggrund were first laid, as the legends say."

Ghorth paused for effect, but Zhatan said nothing.

"Yes," he continued, unabashed, "thousands of feet below us, on ground that has now long-since been subsumed into the body of this, the greatest single edifice in the known world, some nameless worker struck the earth with this hammer, shattering the barren rock, so that the first great slabs of obsidian might be laid. By that one act, millennia of suffering and bloodshed was unleashed. It began on that fateful, grey day, directly beneath the Temple, from which eminence we now we gaze across a land blighted by our industry and malice. Who thought to preserve it, we do not know, but the hammer was taken and embellished, enchanted and reworked, and it has absorbed all of the accumulated hatred and contempt of our race in the intervening centuries – the hatred and contempt that, in a manner of speaking, it was directly responsible for. When Zhargon rose to power, it was given to the lord of the Immortals, and it is to that office that it has been bound ever since. Across countless battlefields, through endless wars, Banelords down the ages have wielded that hammer. It has taken hundreds of lives, and led to the enslavement of tens of thousands more. It has struck down Chaos Lords, sent Vampires back to the spirit world, banished Daemons and slain Dragons. Its blows have reverberated through the Realm of Chaos. It has made widows and orphans uncounted. It has shattered heirlooms, broken thrones and destroyed dynasties. It is not merely a weapon: it is a symbol of all that we are and all that we have brought to ruin. And now, as Banelord of the Immortals, as Commander of the Tower of Zharr, I bequeath it to you, Zhatan the Black."

Zhatan lifted the Hammer of Zharr again and once more looked at it coldly. Its whole surface was covered in ghoulish runes and mind-wrenching glyphs of terrible Daemonic power. Its very presence seemed to distort the air, even here in the Temple of Hashut, one of the most dread places in the world.

Ghorth rapped his knuckles lightly against the arms of his throne. He was beginning to get impatient. "Have you nothing to say, Zhatan?" he demanded.

The Banelord seemed to consider his words carefully. Finally, he said, "Can it kill?"

"What? Of course it can kill! It is one of the most fearsome instruments of destruction in creation!"

"Then it is sufficient." Turning smartly on his heel, Zhatan marched from the throne room.

Entry #8
The Epic of Deephack Choppera

Nigh aeon before, the Fire Dwarfs brought
From the belly of their hell-forge
A ruinous axe their hands wrought.

Empying the barrows of Zharr Naggrund
The great Fire Dwarf city did disgorge
Ten thousand march on land dead and poisoned.

And lo through flesh and bone the ruinous axe did cleave
All manner of Man, Elf and beast were felled
But none dreamt the axe itself could decieve.

Slowly at first the axe did ponder its fate
With its master fully unaware, hands controlled and will expelled.
Axe and master now fuelled by greed, arrogance and hate.

Into a mindless automaton and servant was its master driven
And still on their bloodlust went, unabated
The axe now thirsted for more familiar crimson.

So it was the weapon cared not for things of flesh
The axe saw so it that it's desires be sated
'Twas to be the last deed of both - a trip, axe and head enmesh.

Down through the unending ages has the axe still sworn
Its posessed frame and blade cold and forgot
High upon a desolate pass in the Mountains of Mourn.

Until a new and hapless creature comes all grope and fumble
The axe will then have a master to enslave and besot
Once more will Deekhack Choppera find mortals to humble.

Entry #9
The Dagger Of Malice

Stabby, stabby blade,
so stabby stabby quick,
give it to me now and il end it,
quick, quick, quick.

Its as bouncy as a flea,
and as strong as a bull,
when this blade is inside you,
i dont know that you'll do....

- words of Tepay, a Hobgoblin assassin in reference to the legendary Blade of Malice

Entry #10
Hierarchy

Hierarchy it is the lash of our whip
Hierarchy it is toil of our industries
Hierarchy  it is the glory of Zharr-Naggrund
Hierarchy it is more powerful than any blade, explosive, or spell
Hierarchy it is what separates us from the lesser races and shows their true worth as slaves
More powerful than any weapon, more sinister than any Dawi'Zharr alone, it is our greatest strength and it is what will ensure the continued survival of our great society.
Hierarchy.......

Hail the Father of Darkness and forever prosper the City of Fire and Desolation

Entry #11
AWAKEN, AZTHROMM-THOGI!

*clink*
*clink* *clink* *clink*
*clink*
mm.  mmmph.

*clink*
*clink* *clink* *TANG*
Mmaah, go away.

*clink*
*clink* *TANG* *TANG*
I’m sleeping.  GO AWAY.

*clink*
*clink* *TANG* *clink* *clink*
Wait, what is that tapping sound?  Grundlid?  It has been many years whence I toiled in the black, but never will I forget the code!  Fine, you cretin, I’m awake.  What again?

*clink* *TANG* *TANG*
*clink* *clink* *TANG* *clink*
W.  Wa.  Wake.  Awaken as from sleep, yes.  R.  Ri.  Rise.  Yes, I’m awake, cretin, get to the point!

*clink* *TANG* mmph.  mmk.
What?  Are you speaking as well?  Why can’t I hear you, and why is my neck so grikked?

*clink* *TANG* *clink* Mmph mmk. Mphk-ak.  Mphk mm.
There.  There it is again, some muffled mumbling.  SPEAK, cretin, use your throat, not your tongue!   Whispers are for Elves and Goblins!

*clink*
How do you know my name?  Who are you, wanaz?  Why can’t I move my limbs?

Bound in iron and copper?  Striken runes?  What in Hashut are you on about?

Oh.  Right.  I remember death.  Yes.  Yesss.

A hundred years each for eight spires of slavery.  Twenty for each of my wives.  Seven for the men I murdered in the council halls.  And one, one for Yar’bresh of Yarr-Degg.  Hah!  Who could forget?

NO!  My heart and lifeblood may have been lost to vultures eight hundred and eighty eight years past, but I bow to no Dawi!  Had I the vigor, I would drink your soul and eat the rubies of your firstborn!     CAN YOU EVEN HEAR ME?

Steal the flame?  Yes, yes, steal the flame.  Yessss.   More!  Mmmmm.  Turn me over, cretin!  Ahhhh, yessss, the forge, what a special place!   The flame pulses, my heart beats again!  Yes, YES!  I AM STRONG!  I CAN FEEL AGAIN!   Leave me here for ten years more and I will DESTROY YOU AND RUNK YOUR HOMELAND.  YESS!!  Ah. Ah.  Ah, what is that?  Ow.  Ow.  Hot.  Very hot.  HOT HOT, OUT, TAKE ME OUT NOW!

*sizzzzzzle*
Aaaah.  Thank you.  Can you hear me, cretin?  Will you serve me?

Wha?
Son?

But. . .

. . .
. . .
Yes.
Yesss, the pact is agreed, and a long life you best have, son, for we have much work to do.
Where to begin?  Ah, yes, our dear old friend Yar’bresh of Yarr-Degg.  First let us seek out his grave, for he owed us his life and wealth, and owes still yet his soul.   Heft mine wutrothandel, son, and grip firmly; it will be worn smooth soon enough.

Yes, soon enough, anu.
. . .

ANU!

Entry #12
For the greater good of god

So he stood there. Alone. Every single one of his bloodbrothers was wasted away. Fought to death against those countless beasts in these damned lands. Alone – maybe not really. He was still holding his mighty rune-crusted axe in his tired hands. Probably the only reason why he still was alive. At last on this blood stained cliff he was overcome by the realization that he and his purpose will fail. There never was a real chance to bring this insane quest to an end as he asks for.
Yes the axe. The reason for this dead issue. It was an incredible powerful weapon. He holds it up in front of him and stared onto it. It was not an axe made by the Daemonsmiths. It was not defiled. Oh no, not this one. An ancient artefact from long forgotten ages. The legacy of his father and all of his ancestors before him. Kept in secret that no one of these so called wizards lays a hand upon it. Because if they would the surely corrupt it or in the worst case destroy it. And that should never happen he vowed.
He was a Chaos Dwarf anyway. Although deep in his mind he felt the pain off all that he and his kind had lost. And he knew that such thoughts were fatal in the Chaos Dwarf society.
His father told him on his deathbed how the Dawi-Zharr became what they are. Tales of crime and punishment. At first he couldn’t believe the words his father was telling. And a short moment he was supposed to kill his father for this sacrilege against almighty Hashut. But as he took the axe of his dying father’s hand he felt something rising in his own mind. Like a voice of an awakened part of him he never knew before.
And he still believes that he was not the only one who has these doubts in the heart.
Betrayal?! Maybe. He was not sure in this point. But now he felt more devotion to his roots than to Zharr-Naggrund and he made his choice.
A short look through his monocular gave him the direction to the nearest dwarven outpost on the Worlds Edge Mountains. He licked over his broken off right tusk. “Let’s bring this to an end!” he grumbled and marched on.
He also knew that he had to hurry. Even in this badlands the Daemonsmiths may see him with their magical skills and also the Overseers have their informers. Anyhow they would find him.

Hours later after walking through this harsh and rugged land the Worlds Edge Mountains came closer.
Suddenly an ear-splitting thunder behind his back almost faded him away. He turned around and caught sight of a Great Taurus. The huge creature snorted angry and with a voice so clear and so pervasive it began to talk. Not for real but in his mind.
“I’m bringing the will of Hashut. You belong to Hashut and no Dawi-Zharr can ever leave his realm without his permission. Therefore I’m here to eat your body and your soul.”
“No way red bull!” he presented his axe and the runes on it began to shine intensively. The beast growled.
“Ancient dwarf-runes of great force?! Curious. But you are not important enough to carry such powerful weapon!”
“With this, I will redeem my soul!”
“Har har har!!!”  The Great Taurus laughed at him.
With his gleaming axe wielding he shook off his worries and attacked the beast.
The creature pranced a bit too late and so the axe cut a deep wound into its body. The yelling of the monster was terrible.
With a swing of its horns it bounced the Dawi-Zharr to the ground, intend to trample him down. With the knowledge that this might be his end he decided to unleash the whole force of the axe. His father told him to praise the name of the Ancestor God Grimnir. One of the three major gods of the Dwarfs. Grimnir the Fearless – Grimnir the warrior god. He shouted out loud with his axe raised to the air: “GRIMNIR!”
The axe began to glow like never before and in the same moment as the Taurus impaled him on its horn he rammed the axe into its neck. Blood splashed and sparks flew and both of them fell down to ground.

“By the gods!” the Dwarf Huntsman stuttered. He observed the whole scenario from the safe place of his secret hideout. He never saw such a stunning spectacle. This cursed Chaos Dwarf down there praised Grimnir while fighting this hellish demon and apparently held such a mighty axe. He would instantly send a salvage team.

Entry #13
Storm Brothers

My brother's eyes met mine, as cold and angry as any tempest
Harsh words, ill-conceived at best, had led us here.
Anger Driven, Rage Fueled, A Dawi-Zharr does not back down.

My brother's axe, the twin of mine, slides swiftly out of its case
As I his twin, do the same with mine.
As beard-lings, we'd named them for the storm that we would be upon our enemies.
One the Lightning, Storms Herald and the other Thunder, Storms Voice.

The silence before the storm slid by as slowly as a breath drawn in, then broke.
Two brothers, Two axes, Lightning and Thunder crashed together.
Two midnight etched blades meet for the first time in anger.

Iron Clad, Oath Bound, Anger Sworn, Shame Driven
Two axes, One brother. The heavy, measured tread of his stride into battle.
He could not let his brothers axe lie silent nor ever allow any other to wield it.

Alone amongst many, amid multitudes wreathed in clashing steel and pain.
No comrades-in-arms at his shoulders now.   No shields to ward his side.
No Brother with his axe to guard his back.   Only Death before him.

Entry #14
There once was an axe
There once was an axe from Flayed Rock
Whose edge was as dull as a sock
His owner was skilled
But no blood was spilled
And the Orc head received just a knock

Entry #15
The Three Questions of Priming

The sun was directly in front of the entrance into Khazi Stormbeard’s pavilion. The Daemonsmith was blinded by it, but he didn’t care. He had experienced worse during his early years as an apprentice. If he could withstand the heat of the forges of Zharr-Naggrund, simple sunlight shouldn’t inconvenience him.
Suddenly the sun was obscured by two eerily similar figures, namely Lefty and Righty. The Daemonsmith called his assistants Lefty and Righty because he could never tell them apart. The twins put a lot of effort to look alike in every single detail, from their clothes, their manner of speech and even the smoothness of their bald heads. Khazi once saw an unruly slave be blinded by the sudden reflection of lantern light from their bare scalps. Granted, the slave hadn’t seen any light in over ten months, but Khazi was still so amused by it all that he gave his assistants an extra ration of Kol Vharhaz, or simply Black Oil as those of the Warrior Class call it.
Lefty and Righty carried between them a black-and-yellow casket, engraved with the runes of danger and explosives. They put the casket in front of their master, and then left the pavilion. Khazi waited a few moments, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand. The Daemonsmith then opened the casket, and before he saw the rocket he felt the presence of the entity imprisoned within. It was angry. Angry at Khazi, angry at the Chaos Dwarfs, angry at everyone and everything.
All was in readiness. Khazi Stormbeard took in a breath, and sent a mental message to the daemon inside the rocket.
“Who are you?”
“You cannot have forgotten me, you foul crony of Hashut!”, the daemon raged. “I am Bae-Shydusqui, your nemesis, your nightmare. I am the Butcher of the Montague family, the Dark Hand of Widows and the Unsung Terror. I will be your doom.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m here because some lice-ridden lackey of yours imprisoned me in this cursed contraption! Do you think I want to be confined in such a small place?! I have no mouth, and I must scream! In here there’s no change, no chance, and no possibility to do anything but think on the many ways I hate you.” The entity sounded as if it was on the verge of crying. “Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you and all your kind. The highest peak of the Mountains of Mourn is over thirty thousand feet long. If the word 'hate' was engraved on every inch of that mountain, it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for your mongrel race. For you. Hate. Hate!”
“What do you want?”
“I want to be free. I want to destroy your kind. I want to inflict so much pain on you, that all the devils of torture will notice it and see it as competition!”
“There will be a battle tomorrow”, Khazi said, sounding unconcerned by the daemon’s threats. “Our opponents are numerous. The more people you kill, the more chance you have of generating enough power to escape the sorcerous contract you have with me.”
“Yes…yes! I will kill, I will maim, I will destroy! All shall tremble on the devastation I will inflict!”
The daemon went on, but Khazi ignored its ramblings and closed the casket. He took a few sips from his flask, sighed, and then gave a command to his assistants.
“Bring in the next casket.”

Entry #16
Ode to the Magma Cannon

Liquid horror spews
Flesh drips from screaming faces
A gift from Hashut

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