Althas Makari: Animosity VIII Week 3: Pet-Sitting

Marshall Makari joined his forces with other Devils near Bhaal-Irama, and took a patrol to search out the mobile labs of the Warhorde. As they moved through the jungle at the pace of Cogfort Kapros, Marshall Gorgos returned from aerial recognizance. “Maggotkin ahead,” he spoke tersely, “and ones I recognize too. Fought them right after we came to this hellhole.”

“Maggotlord Joachim, then,” Maraki noted, remembering the dossiers he had prepared for his High-Marshall from collected Starfall Devil intelligence. “We know they are working with Morfiend. With luck, we can scare them back to the laboratories.”

The force marched forward, forming an arrowhead with Kapros as the point. Before them they saw not the loping ranks of Rotswords they expected, but instead a lone wyvern, similar to those of the Wyrdspine mountains. But indeed, Joachim’s forces emerged from the pulsating jungle behind it. “Are they… chasing the beast?” Makari wondered from Kapros’s observation parapet. He sighed. “We’d better go get it, then…”

Kapros and Gorgos moved ahead cautiously, but Warforger Vasillis animated a Realmspirit Armor with vigor enough to make up the right flank by itself. 

A horde of scabrous beasts jogged out to face the trapped incarnation, spewing acidic spittle and fouling it with their mouth-parts. The magic holding the armor together could only take so much physical violation, and the manifestation collapsed into a heap of ill-fitting mechanical parts.

But that was all the distraction Makari needed, as he urged more coal into Kapros’s furnaces. He charged down the gangplank with a full patrol of Freeguilder Greatblades, shouting death to the Plaguefather’s menagerie. 

To their left, Gorgos swooped and fell into the Rotswords, eager to tear into decaying flesh.

The Greatblades easily cleaved through the Beasts of Nurgle and their demonic minders.

But the griffon and her rider were caught amongst the Rotswords. They were led by a Lord of Plagues, and his leadership made them emplacable. Half their number had fallen to the Marshall’s Emberguard-forged sword, but the rest slowly dragged Thermodon’s high-flying hero to the ground.

His sacrifice was not in vain, however, as Makari was able to coax the wyvern back towards his lines. The beast flew to the safety of Kapros’s shadow, and then was called by a collection of sweetmeats from the Steelhelms’ messkits. 

The wyvern seemed safely out of Morfiend’s claws, but Makari marshalled his elite infantry for a second charge, and put a group of Pestigors to the spit. 

With this, Joachim decided to cut his losses and return to Morfiend front lines. Makari was eager to follow until he realized that Gorgos had fallen. He rushed over to the dying commander, ordering his men to carry the injured knight and mount to the floating earthmotes, where some arcane energies might save their lives.

In a few hours, the griffon could fly again. With a gruff, “I gotta go see a man about a bird,” Marshal Gorgos ordered his griffon to laboriously flap above the canopy, leaving the patrol without air reconnaissance. 

They were also cut off from larger Devil troop movement, as their chase of the wyvern had left them deep in the trackless jungle. The Steelhelms had recovered the wyvern and brought it aboard, but the beast took most of the upper decks of the cogfort to secure safely. 

Lacking any other transportation, Makari then led a party of Steelhelms and Greatblades deeper into the jungle, hoping to take advantage of the uncontested area. They found what must have been a sentry tower of old Bhaal-Irama, and took the day to thoroughly search the site, including what appeared to be a former Stormvault, unfortunately cracked centuries ago by realmquakes. In the morning they dragged all that they could carry back to the Cogfort, and were rewarded with the site of the airship Paralos floating overhead to pick up the party.