The Chaos hoard had set its sights on the main stronghold on the planet El Cid. The
assembled brotherhoods stood
firm against the horrors that assailed their home.
Then there appeared a demon of incredible strength and power. A dreaded Bloodthirster
tore through the squat
troopers, blood and gore dripping from its gaping maw.
The army commander, Warlord Angir Granite-eyes, marched forward to meet the threat. As
Wrathe, then a
Hearthguard, moved to assist him, the wise ancestor Garok held him back.
"If Angir falls, you and I will be all that stands between the demon and the hold."
Wrathe watched as the Warlord and the demon fought. HE saw the power of the fiend. He
watched as it shredded
the ancient armor of the squat lord.
Fear gripped Wrathe's heart. With the Warlord dead or dying, Wrathe found himself both
in charge of a massive
army, and facing a greater demon.
The demon swung its head to find a new target. As it sighted Garok, Wrathe charged the monster.
"Your rampage ends here foul beast. I will send you back to the hole you came
from. TURN and face your
death!!!"
Wrathe crashed into the demon, his bolt pistol blazing, his power axe arcing into the fiend.
The demon turned and slashed at this new target. Wrathe's armor shrieked as the claws tore through it.
Wrathe was locked in mortal combat with the most fearsome beast the chaos gods had ever
created. Other battles
raged on around them. Neither noticed. They only saw each other. Their world became no
more than a few meters
square.
The two combatants circled each other. Each intent on the others demise. Claw and power
blade flashed. Flesh and
metal flew from their blows. Blood and ichor flowed freely. Neither seemed to gain any
advantage.
Then Wrathe slipped.
The Bloodthirster screamed in triumph. It lunged at the fallen squat. Its massive jaws seeking Wrathe's throat.
As Wrathe struggled to rise, his eyes fell upon the gates of the stronghold.
Summoning all his remaining strength, Wrathe swung him power axe in a wide arc.
Then he passed out.
Wrathe awoke to the soft hum of machinery. Ancient Garok was sitting beside him. In the
corner stood the
heirloom armor Wrathe had donned for the battle, now repaired. Above the armor, preserved
for all to see, was the
head of the bloodthirster.
And that is how Wrathe Daemonfoe earned his name.