Unfortunately, do to circumstances beyond their control, my superb beta is out of commission. So in order to give them a much needed break I assumed the responsibility and admittedly I'm not that great at catching my mistakes, so if you see a couple shout it out so I can work on it.

The Russians

If there was one thing that Starshina Roman Yurivitch Stopblaski loved about his job, it was the KA-60, the Kasatka. The Killer whale.

Pilots and soldiers would often joke that the KA-60 was built like Mother Russia, except it had better reliability. Roman hated it when the men would joke about the Mother Land like that; his family had been shedding blood for his country since the Great Patriotic War of 1941. His great Grandfather had been one of the first tankists to enter Berlin during that final battle. His father had died fighting in Afghanistan, his helicopter brought down by a mujahedeen armed with a shoulder launched American Stinger missile.

Roman had only been three years old when the news of his father's death had reached his home in Volgograd. His family's fortune had quickly degenerated. Though his mother worked in one of the many factories, they had been quite dependent on his father's paycheck to meet their monthly rent. Now that was gone, and his pension was just barely enough to cover the food bill.

A year later the Red Army pulled out of Afghanistan, and the Stopblaski's fortunes took an even worse turn. The factory that Tanya Stopblaskia worked in, went out of business as the Russian command economy began to quickly strangle itself. Now with no work, no money, and a small pension keeping the two from starvation, the family's debt piled up and it looked like they would eventually loose their flat, and be turned out into the streets.

Luckily before that could happen, Roman's grandfather Mikhail Stopblaski upon hearing about Tanya's lack of good luck, brought the two to the small city of Bataysk, helping to raise his son's son, even helping Tanya to find a job teaching at the local school. Although his grandfather was quite old, he wanted Roman to have a father figure in his life, and took an interest in raising Roman, taking him on fishing trips, and (when he was older) out hunting.

It was during these times that Mikhail (or Dedushka Misha as Roman would call him) would regale his grandson with tales of the Great Patriotic War. Of how he and his tank crew had smashed through the German armour at Kursk, of how they had chased the Nazis back over the Russian steppes and the Polish planes, and finally carve out the black heart of the Third Reich at Berlin.

Now it was Roman Yurivitch's turn. His turn to show to his family that he too could protect his homeland... That's if he could keep his borscht down. Though Roman loved flying in the KA-60 he had notoriously bad motion sickness, in spite of his often boasted, cast iron stomach. It was said that among the 22nd Guards, that Roman was the only man among them who could regularly dine on the Individual'nyi Ratsion Pitaniya ration packs and not suffer the after effects.

But put Roman in a KA-60, and his breakfast, lunch and dinner usually either ended up being heaved up over the side, or sometimes into his combat helmet. Luckily for Roman, the ride had actually been a smooth one, but on the last legs of their flight, the KA-60 had hit a small patch of turbulence, causing the large bulky helicopter to buck up and down for several seconds.

Several seconds to long as it turned out.


Roman slowly opened his eyes as he stared into the brown paper barf bag that someone had quickly passed him. Breathing a sigh of relief as the helicopter finally settled, Roman caught a glimpse of several handfuls of rubles changed hands.

"What's going on Keslov?"Roman breathed as he leaned back into his seat, trying to settle his stomach as the KA-60 finally settled.

Boris Alexivitch Keslov was a great bear of a man, large and seemingly bulging with muscles. Though almost a dozen years older then Roman, Keslov had yet to make (or at least keep) Mládshiy Serzhánt as when ever he was promoted, he would do something, often something to do with alcohol, that would end with his ass busted back down to Ryadovóy,not that he seemed to completely mind.

Keslov glanced over at his Starshina with a sour look. "Two hundred rubles on whether you could last more then twenty seconds, Starshina. You just had to last another three seconds! Now I'm out a paycheck! Katyusha's going to kill me for loosing that!"

Although the man had been betting at his expense Roman joined in the loud, barking laughter at the poor man's misfortune, as it echoed over the sounds of the rotary blades of the helicopter.

Slowly the laughter died as men's minds turned to more depressing thoughts. In a few hours time they would be engaging the enemy, but instead of fellow Spetsnaz at their sides, they would be fighting with American Marines.

A fact that left a bitter taste in Roman's mouth. It was bad enough that Mother Russia had to appeal to the Americans, but the fact that they would be joined by their Marines disgusted him. He kept quite about his complaints though. That was the thing about the Spetsnaz, you didn't complain, and if you did, no one listened. It was just better to keep your mouth shut, and do as you were told.

There were however a few who did not yet understand this simple concept. Vladimir Ivanivitch Yalcotski for example was the FNG of the squad. Of course the poor kid had other problems then just simply being the FNG. Yalcotski was small, thin, and had an almost girlish look about him. But what had singled him out was the fact he was a Ukrainian, and was dumb enough to tell everyone about it. He had joined only a short time ago, and was not fully aware of the rules. Oh well, Roman thought, the kid would soon get the rules beaten into him.

But then again being a Khokhol they would probably have to kill him and then beat his ghost half to death before he got it.

"Starshina," Yalcotski shouted over the thump of the helicopters blades, "why are we allowing the Americans to come with us? Why can't we just do this job on are own? God damn bullshit if you ask me."

Roman looked over at the young man. "No one asked for your opinion Yalcotski. So shut your mouth and do your job."

The other men nodded, although they very much agreed with Yalcotski, it was better to just concentrate on what needed to be done. A new belt of turbulence sent Roman scrambling for his paper bag as his stomach emptied what was left.

Sometimes Roman wondered why he endured thing like this. Maybe deep down he had some masochist tendencies, maybe he enjoyed what he was put through with the Spetsnaz. Other days he wondered what had possessed him to join.

Then there where days when Roman rolled out of bed his heart pounding, sweat dripping from his forehead. Days where he remembered the steel handcuffs locking him to a small chair in the middle of a dark, cold, cement room. Days where he remembered being beat to near death by trainers and trainees, days of wading through the blood and guts of pigs.

Men had died or had been seriously injured throughout the 'training,' and the causalities had been written off as 'acceptable.' The cost was deemed worth it, Roman supposed, as Russia got what she needed. Soldiers who knew nothing of fear, men who where immune to the horrors of war, men who understood what was needed to win, men who were fully committed to victory.

Roman was positive that the American Marines would lack these qualities with their cushy training and the unwillingness to really get their hands dirty.

Roman felt the KA-60 begin to slow to a stop the doors on the sides opened wide, giving Roman his first view of the sparkling, deep blue, Mediterranean in the fading sunlight. The smell of the sea washed over the squad, blowing out the smell of alcohol and cigarettes that always seemed to gather around the men.

"Alright girls, we're coming in for a landing." Came the barking orders of Kapitán Evgenii Kyznetsov. It unsettled Roman that Kyznetsov though with out a doubt, the oldest amoung them he could probably break all of them in half with his bare hands. He was the Starik, he was the Old Man. Both respected and feared by his men, as he still could, as Kyznetsov put it; 'put them over his knee and beat the shit out of them if he felt so inclined.'

"Check your gear, and make sure you got everything. I don't want someone whining to me that they forgot their tampons on the Kasatka in the middle of a firefight."

There was a chorus of 'Da Starik Kapitán!' as the helicopter finally landed on the INS Eilat's landing pad, and the loud thunder from the blades finally ceased. Roman and the eleven other men whom he had shared a cramped and confined space with filed out, their weapons slung on their backs, their hands covering their heads as the second Kasatka landed on the landing pad.

Bones in his shoulders and arms crack, as Roman stretched and pulled them, trying to work the feeling back into them, as he glanced over at the assembled American Marines.

"Hey Starshina, check out the Americans." Keslov snickered as he stepped up behind Roman. "Whoooo scary marines, I'm already shaking in my boots!"

At almost the same the two men caught a flash of auburn hair, as a distinctively feminine shape pushed through the assembled marines, to join the great bear of a man who stood at the front. The man, obviously the CO made even Keslov look like a scrawny preteen boy.

As Roman quickly sized up the CO, Keslov nudged him in the ribs. "Look at that Starshina; the Americans have a woman with them! The American's have all the luck don't they, new weapons, new gear, even attractive females to follow them around!"

Roman shook his head at the older man. "Keslov, you're complaining. Besides if you want a woman to keep you company, why not just go talk to Yalcotski? He's effeminate enough. I'm sure if you just close your eyes you could convince yourself that he is woman. Well, at least until you woke up and rolled over in the morning."

Keslov barked a laugh as he continued to stare at the red-headed marine, who was now engrossed in conversation with the Marine CO. Well not really a conversation, Keslov had seen and received enough dressing downs by senior officers to know one when he saw one.

A loud barking order in Russian suddenly cut through the twilight, and brought the two dozen Spetsnaz operatives to attention. "Alright ladies, I want you formed up and in formation on the double! Come on move your god damn asses!"

"Da Starik Kapitán!"Camethe reply of the men, as they quickly formed straight neat ranks.

Across from them the Marines imitated the Russians, Roman was surprised when the woman gave the order. Okay, Roman thought to himself as he like the rest of his squad mates took a new interest in the female marine. Defiantly an officer, man this is going to be more interesting then I thought.

Roman watched as Kapitán Kyznetsov moved up to meet the marine CO, giving the larger man a salute and a quick handshake. The two men quickly fell to talking, and after several minutes of standing ramrod straight, while the bosses talked of strategy, Roman took to squirming, just ever so slightly. Although Roman could relax, marinate as he referred to it, for hours on end, standing still was not one of Roman's strong points.

A loud, barking order quickly snapped Roman back at attention.

"Stopblaski! Get your ass up here now!"

Roman quickly left the formation and snapped to attention, saluting both officers who returned it in kind.

"Major Barkin, this es Starshina Roman Yurivitch Stopblaski." Kyznetsov stated as he nodded his head to Roman. "He es the best sniper under my command. I think he es what you are looking for, Major."

Barkin glared at Roman for several minutes, looking him up and down, His eyes catching the Cyrillic writing carved into the polished wood stock of the Dragunov sniper rifle strapped secularly to Roman's back.

"Can you speak English Stopblaski?" Barkin asked after several seconds.

"Da, sir, I speak et quite well." Roman replied in his rather heavily accented English.

Do speak any other languages?" Barkin asked quite surprised by Roman's answer.

"Da, I know several others." Roman responded, his answers short and crisp.

"What others do you know?"

"Sir, I know German, Polish, Arabic, French and Klingon."

Barkin who had been clearly impressed with Roman's apparent mastery of several languages, did a double take at Roman's frank admission of being able to speak fluent Klingon. Even the marines behind him seemed stunned at the revelation.

"Klingon? Why do I need to know that you know how to speak Klingon?"

Roman's expression never changed as he quickly responded. "Sir you asked what languages I can speak. You did not ask if the languages I knew would be useful."

At that, the assembled marines burst out in loud laughter, even the female marine seemed to be taken aback by Roman's seemingly bold answer. Even Kyznetsov held back a small smile at the Major's look of rage and indignation. A venomous glare from Barkin quickly silenced them, as many stood even straighter, if that was even possible.

"Lieutenant. Front and centre." Barkin ordered, still glaring at the young Russian in front of him, who was attempting to try and make himself seem smaller while not appearing intimated by the hulking officer.

Roman watched as the red haired woman, broke away from the group of marines to join the small group in the centre of the deck. Strange, Roman thought to himself. I didn't think that Americans allowed women to serve in combat roles.

"Captain Kyznetsov, this is my XO 2nd Lieutenant Kim Possible."

Possible quickly snapped a salute, which Kyznetsov quickly returned.

"She also received top marks in what we refer to as Sniper School, and holds the honour of being the only female graduate. Ever."

Both Roman and Kyznetsov brief glanced at the female marine. Kyznetsov was intrigued, while Roman was unimpressed. It was cushy American training after all. Possible just shrugged and muttered about how it was "no big."

"Possible, I want you and Stopblaski to set an observation post at site delta-six. I want you two to keep an eye on the building, confirm that both targets are where they are supposed to be and feed back reports every hour on estimated enemy strength."

"Sir! Yes sir!" Possible said as she snapped a salute.

"Good. You are now call sign 'Watchtower.' You both leave at O-two hundred hours I suggest that both of you get some sleep. Kyznetsov you're with me, we have some plans to finalize before we hit the beach." Barkin said as he dismissed the group.

"Before thes mission es to begin, I must first speak to my men." Kyznetsov claimed, as he gestured for Roman to follow him.

Barkin nodded at the Russians. "Very well, I need to address my boys as well captain."

Kyznetsov and Roman quickly marched back to the assembled Spetsnaz, Roman took his place beside Keslov, who gave Roman a small wink and a nudge with his elbow. Roman rolled his eyes, at the gesture, but immediately focused back on the Old Man as Kyznetsov addressed the two dozen men under his command.

"Men, you know why we are here. You know why we are working with the Americans. Mother Russia has given us a task that she knows only we can complete. We are the best of the best. The Taliban fear us, Chechens shit their pants when they hear that we might come after them. That is why we cannot fail. The Americans have their own objective, and we have ours. Patolnokov is to be captured at all costs."

Kyznetsov, features hardened as he glared at the men. "Know this: Patolnokov is to be tried and executed by Russians. Should the Americans try and interfere in anyway, or try to take Patolnokov back to the States to stand trial in their courts, you are to kill them. Do you understand me!"

"Da Starik Kapitán!" The men barked out.

Kyznetsov nodded.

"Good. Watch yourselves, and good luck. Now go get some sleep, you're going to need it. Dismissed!"

The men snapped to attention and saluted their captain who returned it in kind. The Russians broke ranks and filed towards the ship eager to put the long chopper ride behind them.

As Roman broke away, heading to the bunks. He stopped to listen to the American CO as he addressed his own men.

"Alright boys... and girl" Barkin amended with a nod to Lieutenant Possible. "I know most of you are concerned with working with the Russians. I am too for a matter a fact. But it doesn't matter. We are here to do a job. We are here to keep some crazy Arab from getting his greasy paws on nuclear materials. So now we got to kick his ass, and guess what? The higher ups decided that it would be the righteous right boot of the Marine Corps that will implant itself in the ass of that crazy Arab. Ooo-rah!"

"Ooo-rah!" Came the enthusiastic chant of the marines.

"What the hell was that? I thought I was in charge of Marines, not some pussy girl scouts! Now, OOO-RAH!"


"That still sucked." Barkin chided the group. "One more time! Show me I'm in charge of god damn Marines! Not some queer sailor boys!"


"Hmm... I guess that'll do... Alright, remember boys, and girl. Do your jobs, and watch each others backs and we all make it home alive. Semper Fi."

Like that the group dispersed, as the Americans followed the Russians into the ship some to their bunks, others to the mess hall. Roman followed behind them, looking forward to a short nap on a rock hard cot.

It'll be just like back home on the base. Roman thought as he chuckled to himself, as he disappeared into the ship.

A little tidbit of what I got planned after Brood War. Posted for your enjoyment.

Kim Possible:

Shadows of Chaos

The world drifted back into focus as the ringing in ears that was once a cacophony of screaming bells faded into a dull ringing. Shaking his head Ronald de'Stoppabel took several shaky breaths praying to the Lady of the Lake that the past two years had been nothing more than a nightmare. He prayed that he would awake in his bed chamber, his parents alive and the Crown of Bretonnia safe in his father's hands and that his evil cousin's Shawn's bloody coup was nothing more then dreamt up fantasies.

His eyes creaked open and Ron groaned. He was not in his bed chamber. That meant that the past two years of what had been ceaseless wanderings across the known world while blundering into what had seemed an ever increasing amount of trouble was to continue.

Instead of strong stone walls and magnificent tapestries of Ron's beloved Bretonnia, there were great twisted trees wreathed in a thick white fog surrounded him. Dark red, armour clad bodies draped in great, flowing black capes lay dotted across the cold blood soaked ground. Worst of all however, was the brass rune skull of the Chaos God Khorne that was stamped onto each of the Warriors plate armour.

Lady help me! What have I done to deserve this fate? Ron pouted to himself, as he reached blindly for his fallen sword. His gauntleted fingers grasped the hilt, as two strong; hands grabbed Ron from under his arms, and hauled him to his feet with seemingly little effort.

"Cho'Ata should be more careful." Lotxa'kota hissed in his dry lisp, as the pale-blue, bronze armoured Saurus pushed past Ron, lifting his large stone mace with little effort. "The Tli'ax ssstill sssurround usss. Make ready."

Ron shook his head once more, trying to regain his balance, clear the fog from his head and attempting to translate the hulking Lizardsman's blunt, lisping language. Not noticing the shadow that was cast on to him, not seeing the red armoured giant raise a wicked axe, preparing to cleave the exiled prince's head from his shoulders.

"Ron! Behind you!" Tara's voice cried out from the mist, instantly shaking Ron awake, and pulling him from the recesses of his mind. Ron's dark brown eyes widened behind his visor, as he tried desperately to raise his shield and ward off the blow, already knowing that it was too late, he would die here.

The Warrior of Khorne screamed out his god's cry, knowing that he had the favour of Khorne


Home is behind

Scarcely had the phrase past his lips when an arrow struck him in the eye, driving through his skull, and jutting out from the other side of his helm. The warrior dropped backwards, as Tara returned Ron's nod of thanks, as he lifted his shield and stepped back, re-joining the rest of their friends.

More forms slowly emerged from the dense fog; their weapons unsheathed seemingly gleaming with a tainted malice. Tara's eyes darted around the fog enshrouded glade, quickly counting more then a score of the red armoured Servants of Chaos. Tara slowed her breathing and calmly notched another arrow to her elven bow. The world became empty for her; there was nothing, no wind, no trees, no mist. Just her, the arrow and the target, Tara's breath became deep as she blocked out everything, aimed her arrow and with a gentle breath, let her bow sing.

The world ahead

Kim ducked as she felt arrow whip past her, catching a warrior in the throat. Kim rolled to her feet, casting a withering glare back at the blonde Wood Elf, who merely gave the High Elf a wink, before notching another arrow.

Kim cursed under her breath, making several threats of bodily harm, before launching herself at the charging enemy. A serrated bladed axe swung towards her head, ducking beneath the blow, Kim dodged behind the armoured Warrior driving her foot into the back of his legs. Unable to keep his balance, the Warrior of Khorne fell forward, exposing the back of his unprotected neck. Kim's thin bladed sword struck quickly stabbing deep into the neck, severing the Warrior's spine, and cutting into his throat.

Another of Khorne's servants charged her, swinging a great two handed blade. Leaping back, Kim pulled her sword out from the dead man's throat with a sickening wet schllunk and rolled quickly to the side, the massive sword just grazing her fur lined cloak. Rolling to her feet, Kim's eyes widened as she leaned back, as the giant blade swung past her, the tip just a hair's breathe from her throat.

Catching her balance, Kim launched herself at the Warrior, twisting around the great sword as the Warrior of Khorne thrust forward, attempting to skewer the High Elf on his massive sword. Dodging around the great blade Kim closed the distance with Warrior, striking deep into his unprotected side, beneath his arm. Blood dripped from the man's demonic helm, as it quickly filled his mouth.

And there are many paths to tread

Kicking the Warrior off her sword, Kim turned to rejoin her friends, just as six more Warriors burst from the mist, weapons raised, and charging straight at her.

"Oh, this isn't good." Kim muttered to herself, as she crouched down into a fighting position.

The Warriors came closer, their heavy armour clanking as they ran at full tilt, the war cry of their god echoing over the din of battle.


Suddenly, a great wave of flame erupted through the mist, burning through the dense fog, and catching the six charging Warriors. Kim winced as the six men screamed, as their flesh cooked inside their armour. The smell of burning hair and skin almost caused Kim to puke, as the smoldering forms collapsed onto the cold, forest floor.

"Careful, Possible." Felix called out, as he leaned heavily on his staff, a grin etched across his face as chided Kim. "I won't always be around to save you!"

Felix smiled again, as another Warrior charged at him. With barley a glance he threw out his hand with a muttered incantation. A great ball of fire erupted from Felix's hand, as he sent it careening towards the hapless Warrior. The armoured man screamed once before the great ball of fire consumed him.

Through shadow

Stepping back with a satisfied smirk on his face, Felix turned back towards his companions, watching in almost amusement as his friends fought against Khorne's servants, who were now totally consumed by bloodlust, throwing themselves against the party, heedless to their losses.

Ron caught a sword blow with his shield, the glancing blow scarring the polished metal and jarring the knight's arm. Ron swung his own sword at the unprotected side of the Warrior. The armoured man recovered quickly however and caught Ron's sword with his own. The swords rasped against each other, as the two men sought to overpower the other. Ron glared up at the armoured giant as he felt himself being slowly pushed back, knowing that if he didn't do something quickly he'd be at quite the disadvantage.

Leaping back suddenly the Warrior was thrown off balance, giving Ron the opening he needed. As the red armoured Warrior, caught himself, Ron smashed the edge of his shield into the head of Chaos servant. The blow sent the armoured man reeling and unable to recover and unable to stop Ron's fey blessed blade as it cut deep into the servant's blood red armour, and in to his chest.

Dark red blood squirted from the wound, as Ron pulled his sword from the Warrior, who groaned, as he swayed on his feet, unwilling to collapse and die. As Ron raised his sword to deliver a final blow, a heavy war hammer smashed into the side of the Warrior's helm, crushing the demonic helmet, and sending him sprawling to the ground with a heavy thud.

To the edge of night

Bodies of the Chaos worshippers littered the forest floor. Dark red blood pooled beneath them as it leaked from their many wounds. The Companions panted heavily as they rejoined each other, taking care not to step in the large, slick pools of blood.

Josh panted, whipping off flecks of blood and gore with a free hand, as he sat down on top of one of the fallen.

"Well that was... interesting. Don't you think Bretonnian?" The Warrior Priest of Sigmar grinned as he leaned his hammer against the red armoured body.

Ron shrugged as he sheathed his own sword and dropped his shield to the ground with a heavy thud, before removing his own helm, breathing in the cold wet air.

"To tell the truth, Josh, I was expecting more from them." Ron answered, as he slowly spun his pot helm in his hands, examining the small dent in the back of the helmet, where a glancing blow from a mace, had thrown him to the ground.

"But, then again we are guided by the Lady!" Ron grinned in enthusiasm. "We cannot fail with such a blessing!"

"Ron, are you alright?"

Both Ron and Josh jumped; neither had heard Kim coming up from behind them. "I saw the hit you took."

Before Ron could answer, a small but incredibly strong hand forced his head down, blatantly ignoring his protests while another parted his long blonde locks in search of a trace of any injury.

"Ah! Kim! Quit it!" Ron whined, as he tried to struggle free of his tormentor. "I'm fine! Seriously! The helmet absorbed the blow! See?"

Kim ignored the offered helmet, and the smirking glances of some of her companions, as she continued her administrations. So caught up in her search, she neither noticed Josh's hand tightening around the shaft of his hammer, nor did Kim notice Tara's blue-eyed glare.

Until the stars are all alight

"Ah, quit it Possible." The Battle Wizard Felix laughed. "If you're worried about something being broken, it should be that mace. That poor thing never stood a chance against Ron's skull!"

Neither Kim, Ron, nor the normally stoic Dwarven Engineer and Runesmith Wadoic, could keep from chuckling. The giant lizard, Lotxa'kota merely hissed, his yellow unblinking eyes staring off into the fog enshrouded forest, searching for any further sign of the enemy. Tara and Josh allowed a ghost of a smile to touch their lips, neither willing to break their untrusting glares with Kim.

A feeling of unease came over the two of them, as it had the first time they had met Kimila of the noble house Possible. Both Wood Elf and priest had never made their concerns heard, though they both had talked a great deal together and had agreed to watch their companion, with the utmost care and caution. Lest their spying damage the unity of the group, too much was riding on them for the seven of them, to risk infighting. The great Slann Mage-Priest, Lord Adohi-Tehga had warned them of the consequences of failure.

"Cho should not be laughing ssso much." Lotxa'kota hissed, without a glance back at the four.

"Oh and why is that ya great lump of a lizard?" Wadoic grumbled as he turned to glare at the Saurus.

Mist and shadow

"The Dro'ka'khanx is blind and foolish. The Tli'ax comes again." Lotxa'kota lisped with a gesture of his great mace.

In an instant the six warriors were on their feet, weapons drawn, as dozens more of the red armoured, blacked caped Warriors of Chaos emerged from the mist, and moved slowly towards the seven heroes.

Tara quickly notched an arrow, picking a target she pulled it back and released. The arrow cut through the air before striking her target through the visor in his helm. Without breaking stride, another Warrior shoved the dead one aside.

Suddenly, the servants of Khorne came to a stop a dozen paces from their enemies. Their weapons undrawn, just staring at the seven heroes, as though challenging them to make the next move. Another arrow from Tara caught a Warrior in the throat, but even as the man collapsed, gurgling and choking on his own blood; none moved to attack.

"Um, why are they just standing there?" Ron asked, as his eyes, no longer confined by his helm, quickly darted around making quick estimates of the number of the Chaos cultists. "Shouldn't they be... you know attacking us or something? Not that I'm complaining about them just standing there of course."

"Maybe there afraid of us? After all we did just kill a lot of their men" Kim whispered back to Ron, her voice carrying the confidence that they could handle whatever was thrown at them.

"No. You're wrong Kim." Josh said, without looking at her. "These are Warriors of Khorne, the Blood God. The God of hate, war, and violent death."

"So..." Kim shrugged "What does that have to do with anything?"

Josh shook his head. "Khorne demands are simple: Blood must flow freely. He demands killing and the more violent, the more senseless, the more destructive the more He gains power. It doesn't matter to Him whose blood is spilled in battle, as long as it is; a servant's blood flows just as well as an enemy's, but blood must be spilled."

A great thundering crash, ripped through the silence that had crept over the forest, as though one of the ancient trees was tossed aside but something large, and powerful. Great footsteps shook the forest floor as the Warriors of Khorne parted, creating a large path between them.

Josh's eyes widened as a great black shadow, that towered over the Warriors emerged from the mist. Great, black, whispering shadows wiped around the beast, showing flashes of its scaly, blood red hide before disappearing behind a veil of blackness.

A great arm, bulging with muscle and littered with long jagged scars gripped a wicked looking sword that looked half again as tall as the largest of the Chaos Warriors. Though the other arm did not grip a weapon, the hand flexed open, revealing a great paw that could easily crush the life out of a victim, or impale the poor soul on one of its many talons. Two great leathery wings snapped open once before folding up, behind the beasts shoulders. Two fiery, red eyes gleaming with malice, glared at the seven heroes, while great maw filled with razor sharp fangs was pulled back in a viscous smile. The maw opened wide as the creatures booming voice thundered throughout the woods, shattering the brittle silence.


Cloud and shade

"By holy Sigmar." Josh whispered.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ron gathered his nerve and tried (but failed) to keep his voice from trembling. "K-K-Kim, what is that thing?"

Before Kim could answer her terrified companion, Josh spoke up.

"What you see Bretonnian, is Khorne's wrath made manifest. A champion who has been so blessed by his God that he has ascended. Becoming a Daemon Prince. Sigmar help us."

Felix crept behind Ron and whispered just loudly enough so only his friends could hear him. "Keep it busy and away from me. I know one spell that may just save us from this demon."

"Easier said then done, wizard." Kim bit back sarcastically.

"Trust me." Felix smiled with a wink.

Ron nodded. "Alright Felix, we will keep it off you, you have my word."

The Daemon Prince snapped its wings open once again, as it slashed at the empty air with its great blood red sword. "YOUR FALSE GODS WILL NOT SAVE YOU HERE MORTALS! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"

The great demon then charged, its great strides seeming to shake the very earth itself. To the daemon's delight six of the heroes it had come to kill ran forward to meet its charge. Khorne would be pleased to have the skulls of such warriors decorating His throne. With earth shattering force, the Daemon Prince swung his sword down to cleave the she High Elf in twain.

At the last moment, Kim twisted to the side, and racked her own enchanted blade across the demon's great arm. Dark, almost black, burning blood, spewed from the wound, as Kim leapt forward to press her advantage.

Felix watched just for a moment as his friends attacked the beast, then closed his eyes and drew from his belt, a large, string drawn leather pouch. The pouch, though seemingly unimportant, was perhaps Felix's most valuable possession. For it contained a substance worth kingdoms to those of magical powers: Wizard's sand.

Felix took a deep breath then began to chant while he slowly poured the gleaming white sand into a perfect circle. Outside the circle Felix continued to chant as he wrote intricate glyphs in the sand, knowing that if he stumbled over a phrase, or made even one slight mistake in the drawing of the glyphs, he would die and his soul would be forfeit.

All shall fade

Ron winced as Lotxa'kota was sent flying by a backhand. The giant Saurus slammed into a tree with a loud crack, and fell to the ground, before leaping back into the fight without the even the slightest hiss of pain. The Daemon Prince, however, was not going down. Its body was littered with arrows as Tara dodged from tree to tree firing off arrow after arrow as she ran. Kim and Ron had both scored numerous hits, cutting into the Prince's flesh, while Josh's hammer and Lotxa'kota's mace, seemed to only amuse the demon.

"COME MORTALS! I'M WAITING TO BE IMPRESSED!" The demon bellowed, taunting the heroes.

The Demon's blade came swinging down on Josh, who swiftly threw himself to the side as the great blade came crashing down. Jumping to his feet Josh turned to the creature, only to see that instead of raising its weapon easily, it struggled as though it was trying to lift a burden greater then it could carry.

To the side of the battle, Wadoic lifted a stone tablet, with a glowing green ruin etched into its surface.

"I don't know how long this will hold him!" Wadoic shouted to his friends, "Try to end it quickly!" Already cracks were beginning to form in the stone, as the Daemon's power outmatched those of the Runesmith's

Kim nodded, and leapt onto the daemon's arm, quickly running up the limb, before flipping off the creatures shoulder, and slamming her blade deep into the Daemon Prince's back.

"Felix whatever you're going to do, do it now please and thank you!" Kim screamed as the Prince let out an unearthly howl.

With the glyphs completed, Felix stepped into the circle barely acknowledging Kim's plea and ignoring the pain as the Winds of Magic tore through him. His chanting picked up pace as Felix closed his mind off to waking world, ignoring the blood that now poured from his nose and ears. Blood filled his mouth, staining his teeth red and the glyphs began spinning as Felix's chanting reached a crescendo. As the last phrase passed his blood stained lips, Felix's eyes snapped open, ablaze with power and he slammed his staff into the ground with a thunderous crack.

Burning white light, erupted from the circle which immediately evaporated, as Felix collapsed exhausted. The light brunt through the mist, and lit the forest up, burning away all traces of mist and fog. Chaos Warrior's screamed as they were reduced ash inside the armour, as the wave of light washed over them.

The Daemon Prince screamed in pain as many of its wounds opened wider, and great hunks of flesh were torn from its body. Its black blood flowed freely onto the forest floor, causing the living plants to wither and die.

Collapsing onto all fours, the Daemon Prince panted, as its blood dripped from its great maw. Kim pulled her sword from its back and stabbed it once again, forcing its head back in pain. Seeing their chance Ron rushed forward and stabbed into the beast neck. The Daemon gave one last howl of pain before it collapsed. Dead.

Kim leapt off the dead creature's body, her adrenaline pumping, her eyes gleaming with excitement, and joy from the fight. It was in these moments, that Kim knew she was losing the war that raged inside her.

Unable to control herself, Kim felt an evil grin spread across her lips, as she whispered a phrase so quietly, that not even Tara's sensitive ears could hear the evil that bled from Kim's lips.

All shall fade

"Blood for the blood God."

A/N (Just in case anyone is confused):

Bretonnia: A feudal land ruled by knights, very much like Medieval Britain and France

Lady of the Lake: Goddess of Bretonnia. Knights go questing to find her and drink from her cup which grants them mystical powers. Only the bravest and most honourable can find her.

Khorne: Considered the most powerful of the Chaos Gods. He is the god of war, hate and violence, but is also the god of honour and martial might.

Saurus: Giant Lizardmen, who serve the Slann. They are incredibly tough as their scaly hides act as armour. They cannot speak in languages known to man, but I got an explanation for that. Don't worry.

Cho'Ata: Means Warm blood of Prophecy

Tli'ax: Servants of Chaos

Lotxa'kota: Name meaning Slayer of Skaven

Sigmar: God of the Empire, and their first Emperor

Slann Mage-Priest: Rulers of the Lizardmen, and the first beings to walk the Warhammer world. Even the youngest are older then the most ancient of Elves.

Cho: Means Warm blood, or foolish/ignorant

Dro'ka'khanx: Those who delve. Literally: Dwarves

Skaven: Giant Ratmen mutated by Chaos.

Empire: The largest and most powerful of all nations in Warhammer.

I know that I'm not exactly true with the Warhammer Fantasy but I will have explanations!

Well, you all are probably wondering, 'what the hell happened to GKN?' Well to make a long story short, I was injured at work, and our son was born at the end of August! So I've been a little busy, but now, thanks to the sleepless nights, I'm back on track! Anyway I hope you enjoyed this little tidbit that I wrote while trying to figure out what's going on with Brood War.