The Warriors of Chaos II: The End Times

Chapters

Chapter One: The Beginning
Chapter Two: Battle For Chimera Plateau, Part One
Chapter Three: Battle for Chimera Plateau, Part 2
Chapter Four: Battle for Griffish Isle, Part I
Chapter Five: Battle for the Griffish Isle, Part Two
Chapter Six: Battle for Griffish Isle, Part Three
Chapter Seven: The Battle For Griffish Isle, End Chapter
Chapter Eight: The Hunt Begins, Part I
Chapter Nine: The Hunt Ends, and the Slaughter continues

Chapter One: The Beginning

Author's Note

Heyo guys! Welcome back to he Warriors of Chaos! This is the first part, which is sort of like how the first story began: The prequel until the current events. This will show Archaon's rise and fall during the Discordian Era, which will eventually lead to the War between Celestia and Luna, and the original story. This story also effect the Alternate Universe Story with the Nuclear Hell Raven, since it begins before that one's timeline as well. Also, Archaon IS a Displaced. Ahriman just pulled his code and rewrote it a little (a lot) until it resembled Archaon, then plopped him into the world! So, later on, he may be available for crossovers. I mean, if you want a raging Chaos Lord Psychopath running around your world, that is. Hope you enjoy, and sorry if the beginning feels a bit rushed. I didn't really know how to plop him in properly, so I thought of the most aggressive way possible. AND I'M RAMBLING AGAIN. sorry. anyways, ENJOY!

Chapter One: The Beginning

Discordian Era, Ten years before Discord’s Imprisonment

The creature known as a draconequus floated around lazily, turning houses into cards and letting cotton candy clouds fly about. His body was almost that of a snake, with a dragon tail, a lion’s paw, a griffon’s talon, and a few other animals that don’t really make sense being stuck together.

Anyway, he was busy spreading his special type of Chaos when something appeared in front of him, a bright flash of light similar to his own when he used his Chaos Magic. A unknown creature fell out of it, smashing into the floor with a loud crash. When the light vanished, The Draconequus, known as Discord, floated over to the creature, observing it’s features.

The thing was heavily armored, with not an inch of body revealed. On it’s back was a long black cape, with what looked like skulls sewn in on the top, while on it’s head was a strange helmet, with two horns built into it, and three eye sockets, which blazed with arcane energy. The rest of It’s body, as stated previously, was covered in armor, that looked very boring and uninteresting. A sword and shield were stuck to it’s hands in an iron grip, resistant even to Discord’s attempts to pull them out. The shield bore an eight pointed star on it, a symbol very familiar to Discord.

But what took Discord’s attention the most was the fact that his aura quite literally oozed the energy of his former masters, a dark and chaotic force that tainted the very soil the creature was laying on, sowing it with corrupted seeds that quickly scorched the land. Before Discord could back away, the creature sat up, It’s eyes burning even brighter as it turned towards Discord.

“I am Archaon the Everchosen, Lord of the End TImes. Either swear fealty to me or be destroyed!” He growled, his voice dark and gravelly as he pointed his sword menacingly at Discord. The sword also burst into flames, adding to the threat.

Discord looked to be considering it, before vanishing entirely, not wanting to be near the “Everchosen” and his dark and corrupting aura. When he reappeared, a few miles away, he sighed, looking down at his paw and claw.

“My powers didn’t work on him. Just what is he? Did my old Lord send him to kill me? But he didn’t seem to know me on sight.” Discord pulled at his goatee. “Hm, for now I think I’ll just stay out of his way. What’s the worst that he could do?”

Meanwhile, The Everchosen growled, glancing around the area. A strange magic flowed through this land, so unlike the Winds of Magic that flowed freely throughout his land. He chuckled darkly.

“So, my masters, you wish me to bring The End Times to this land as well? So be it. In your names I shall bring ruin to this land, scorching the ground I tread as I march. Glory to the Chaos Gods!” He chuckled, before roaring loudly. He marched forward, the Chaos Aura swirling around him spreading across the land to corrupt those who held weaker souls than others. They would be Archaon’s first soldiers, his Chaos Marauders, through which he would begin a slaughter never before seen on the soil of Equus.

Meanwhile, in a location far away, two equines shuddered. They both had wings, as well as a horn, though their fur was entirely different. While one was covered in white fur, with a flowing multicolored mane, the other was the exact opposite, a dark blue coat with an almost starry mane, which flowed on it’s own, without wind. They were currently inside of a cave, with light droplets of water dripping from the ceiling somewhere nearby. The two were currently laying around a small campfire, which glowed with warmth in the dreary cave.

The blue one spoke first. “Sister, did you feel that?” She asked, referring to the feeling she just felt.

“Yes, Luna. I felt like a blanket of dread just draped itself over me. Something big is coming, possibly even bigger than Discord.” The white one replied.

“A bigger threat than Discord?! Impossible! Celestia, even you must admit that that is a bit of an exaggerated assumption.” The Blue Equine, now identified as Luna, raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps, Luna, but we must be ready, in case this new thing proves my worries true.” Celestia replied.

Meanwhile, near Archaon’s first appearance

The massive warrior known as Archaon marched through town, earning fearful looks from the equine population within the town. Archaon growled.

“Where are the people of this accursed ghost town?! All I see are these accursed strangely colored horses!” He roared, swinging his flaming sword around. One horned equine, with blue fur and a white mane, stepped forward cautiously.

“U-um, sir, we are not “Horses”, whatever those are. We are ponies, and we are all around you. W-we aren’t hiding from you or anything.” It said. The Everchosen glared down at the ‘pony’.

“Then you are the sentient species of this world? Pah! I guess you will have to do.” He growled, before looking around the town. “All of you pathetic ‘ponies’, listen up! I am Archaon, Everchosen of Chaos, and Lord of the End Times. I come here to this pathetic little town to demand your service in my horde! Serve me willingly, or through force, I do not care, but you shall serve me nonetheless!” At this, one of the other ponies, this time a winged one, snorted.

“Serve you? Pah, as if! I bet behind all that fancy armor and weapons, you're nothing but a pushover!” He chuckled, earning a few nods from the crowd. The Everchosen glared down at the pony.

“You wish for me to prove my might?! Very well, I’ll prove it with you!” He roared, grabbing the pony by the head and lifting him up off the ground. Before the pony could use his wings to try- and fail - to fly away, Archaon let loose the powers his masters had granted him. Vile powers flowed freely from Archaon’s hand and into the pony, and said pony screamed in agony. Before the eyes of every other living creature, dark tendrils dug into the pony’s head, spreading across his body, before the mutation truly began. Archaon dropped him as his body began to bulge out in multiple places, while his limbs started twisting at unnatural angles, sometimes revealing the bone underneath. Extensions grew out of the pony’s hooves, turning into claws with razor sharp talons that could rip through metal and flesh with ease. His face morphed too, with fanged teeth beginning to protrude from his mouth, and his face grew outwards slightly. When the horrific transformation was complete, Archaon’s latest pet stood up on two legs, breathing heavily as acidic saliva dripped from it’s mouth. The pony that once inhabited this body was no more, replaced by a monster hungry for destruction.

The ponies who hadn’t rushed into their houses in terror yet had wide eyes, but seemed almost relieved when a group of ponies equipped with some form of armor marched forwards.

‘This must be another of Discord’s horrific new monsters. We should kill it before it can cause any more trouble.” One of them said, a horned pony with a bigger plume on his helmet than the others. “I want the unicorns to blast it with magic from behind, while the pegasi rain arrows on it from above. Earth Ponies, ready your spears.” He ordered. The rest of the group nodded, before splitting off into three different groups. Archaon chuckled, allowing the foolish ponies to take up their pathetic excuse for a formation.

As the ponies charged forward, Archaon’s beast snarled, but Archaon made it wait. Taking out his sword, he marched forward to meet the rushing enemy. As they got near, Archaon raised his sword, even as arrows pelted his armor. He brought it down in a destructive arch, swatting away the spearponies like flies before chasing after the closest one, stabbing him in the side, before immediately slicing his next victim in two. Suddenly, two beams of magic smashed into him, tossing him into a nearby building. Archaon got back up, growling as he marched back out and over the crushed bodies of the ponies he had landed on.

As he walked out, he began gathering up his energies. “Do you think I am not versed in the arcane?!” He roared, before a massive fireball erupted into existence in front of him, flying on a direct course to the ‘unicorns’. Most got out of the way, but one unlucky soul took the blast head on, being turned to ash in seconds. The squadron leader was shaking as Archaon drew closer, before crying out, “Withdraw! Withdraw! We cannot fight this thing!” The other ponies nodded in fear before running away with their tails between their legs. Archaon laughed loudly, before glaring at the forgotten populace.

“Now you have seen my power. Kneel down and pledge your service to me and the Dark Gods, and you will live to serve in my Horde. If you do not, I shall let my pet rip you to shreds as an example.” He ordered, and they all nodded, shaking madly before kneeling. Archaon’s magic wove through the ground and grabbed at each of them, corrupting their souls to the Dark Powers. When they rose, they no longer were afraid. They Each had a savage and wicked grin on their face, and they all gave off a dark aura, most prominent near the eight-pointed star seared into their chests. Archaon grinned inside his helmet.

“Now, gather your weapons! We march a path of blood! Let all who stand in our way meet their end at the hands of The End Times!”

In unison, the corrupted ponies raised their heads and roared.

“Blood for the Blood God!”

Meanwhile, in the Void

A being hovered over the universe, chuckling to himself. “This should make things more interesting for my brothers and my Legion. This will be their final test then. If they can defeat this threat, they will be worthy to face the stars. All according to plan.” He said, his staff humming with energy. “I, Ahzek Ahriman, Warmaster of Chaos and the New Black Legion, hereby commit this final test. Let them face the End Times!”

Chapter Two: Battle For Chimera Plateau, Part One

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Chapter Three: Battle for Chimera Plateau, Part 2

Base of Chimera Plateau, the next day

Archaon growled at his servants, the Chaos Warband he had gathered ready for slaughter. Before they could get to the mountain, however, a force of Pony soldiers blocked the way, spears and magic at the ready.

“Another seeks to bring me to my knees! Another seeks to strike me down, like he is some pathetic hero! Does he think his pathetic army will defeat me?! Or my followers?!” The Everchosen bellowed, to which his followers cried out taunts and hated curses towards the pony army in front of them. “Come, my Swords of Chaos, let us show this weakling Would-Be Hero what I do to heroes! He will see why I am the Lord of the End Times, why I am the Everchosen, and why Iwill wield the Slayer of Kings!” Rising chorus’s of bloodlust and hatred boomed from the Chaos Horde, echoes of their war cries heard even in the southern realms.

“For Chaos!!!” They cried in unison.

Meanwhile, on the pony front

Sword Blazer stood in front of his army, made up of both trained soldiers from his own regiment, as well as fresh and eager recruits who were picked up along the way. While they had only been taught basic training in how to use their spears, every able pony was needed for the chaotic hordes in front of them. Sword turned to his army.

“Brothers and Sisters!” He yelled, gathering their attention. “Today we bring low the armies of Chaos, and the tyrant Archaon! I am certain all of you have heard of his vile sorcery, as well as what he does to those who fall before him!” Many ponies began muttering to those nearby, nervous. “But today his evil ends! We will crush his armies, and lay low the bastard himself!” The ponies cheered, their morale rising at this speech. “For our homes! For our families! For Equestria!” The ponies all repeated the battle cry, before Sword turned towards the enemy in front of his forces. Just then, a chilling battle cry roared across the battlefield.

“For Chaos!!!!”

“Charge!” Sword yelled, drawing his weapon and rushing towards the Forces of Chaos. He felt rather than heard his ponies following behind him, their hooves shaking the ground below them in their charge.

When they had almost met with the foe, the ponies lowered their spears, impaling many of the frontal abominations that once were called ponies. The battle was on.

Archaon was at the forefront of the army, his shield having broken most of the spears thrusted at him. His sword flashed, cutting the pony in front of him in two, the armor being cleaved through with some resistance, but still utterly futile due to Archaon’s brute strength. He blocked a floating sword aimed for his head, before glancing at where it had come from. Growling, he let loose a massive fireball, burning past many ponies and his own chaos spawn as it smashed into the unicorn that had been using the blade.
Before he could turn, a hammer smashed into his side, knocking him to the ground. Glancing up, he saw that a Pegasus floated over him, the rather small Warhammer in its hooves poised to smash into Archaon’s head.

The Everchosen raised his shield, blocking the death blow, before he stabbed the pegasus with his blade. He glanced to the left to see the Daemon he had bound to his will slicing through anypony who got close enough to feel the wrath of his wings.

“Archaon! You shall meet your doom this day!” A voice yelled, and Archaon turned his head to stare down the leader of the pony army.

“Pathetic worm, you won't even scratch my armor, let alone defeat me!” Archaon growled, stepping forward. “I am the Anointed, the Everchosen of the Dark Gods! What could a weakling equine like you ever do?!” He leapt forward, bringing his blade down on the pony’s head. Before it could connect, however, the blade was stopped by a barrier formed between the two. Archaon stared down at the pony before him, noticing the glowing horn on his head.

“I will stop you!” The unicorn growled, a blast of magic smashing into Archaon, pushing him back. “You will not even get the chance to steal the Slayer of Kings!” He raised his sword, the blade glowing with archaic runes. “I am Sword Blazer, and I shall be your end!”

The Everchosen laughed, stepping back towards him as the runes etched into his helmet glowed. "You believe yourself adequate enough to defeat me?! I have butchered much more powerful opponents while I was young! What hope could you and your pitiful magic have against He who is chosen by the Dark Gods?!” He charged forth, smashing into Sword Blazer as the battle raged around them. Unseen to Sword Blazer, a large portion of his army had broken off, terrified by the foul creatures they had fought. Archaon’s Sorcerer sat in the back, bringing down flaming death upon the foe, or strengthening the Chaos Army.

“If you think you can defeat me, then you shall burn for your arrogance.” Archaon growled, his sword impaling a pony who had tried to attack him. He marched towards Sword Blazer, flames erupting from his blade. “I will take great joy in watching you suffer!”He brought his blade screeching towards Sword, only to be barely blocked by the magic-infused sword the Commander used. Using his magic, Sword pulled a spear from the ground, lost by a dead pony, and thrusted it into Archaon’s leg.

The Everchosen grunted, blood dripping out of the wound. With his focus slackened, Sword pulled his blade away from Archaon’s, and stabbing it into his gut. The Everchosen roared, smashing his blade into Blazer’s side, the blade shaving off his left legs. His sword lost it’s glow as Blazer’s focus shattered, him screaming in pain. Archaon lifted his sword again, rage literally blazing from the orange orbs that were Archaon’s eyes.

“You will die!” Archaon roared, his blade running straight through Sword Blazer’s chest, the flames from his sword catching onto Blazer’s fur. The poor unicorn burst into flames, his screams crying out across the battlefield as his body burned with blazing fire. Archaon removed the sword in his gut, looking at it with a harsh glare before putting it in his shield for now. He looked across the battlefield, noticing the ponies had routed.

The death cries of Sword Blazer had completely broken what little morale they had left. As they ran for their lives, Archaon’s army, their minds filled with bloodlust, chased after them, cutting down any who couldn't run fast enough. Archaon watched them flee, even as his blood slowly dripped out of the gash in his armor, before his body began to heal itself with dark magics. His sorcerer slowly trotted towards him.

“My lord, shall we make for Chimera Plateau?” He asked, his gaze trailing towards the mountain looming before them.

“Yes, Sorcerer. No simple wound shall keep me from my prize. Gather them up and have them begin the march to the top.” Archaon growled, gesturing to his horde, which was currently sacrificing some of the captured soldiers, while others began eating them.

“Yes, my lord. When do we make the trip to the southern nations?” The sorcerer asked as Archaon turned and began stomping towards the mountain, ripping out the spear in his leg.

“Once we finish up here.” Archaon growled. The sorcerer grinned.

“As you wish, my lord.”

Three hours later

“Go, my followers! Bring ruin and slaughter to the enemy!” Archaon roared, his blade biting into the hide of another Chimera. True to the name and legend, the climb up the mountain was filled with a multitude of chimera. The hated beasts had scored a large tally on Archaon’s army, and they were hardly halfway up the mountain. At this rate, the only one who would reach the top was Archaon.

The Everchosen ducked under a clawed swipe from another chimera, raising his blade and severing the claw from its leg. The creature roared, it's scorpion tail swinging forward in an attempt to impale Archaon. He blocked the tail with his shield, before delivering the death blow by stabbing it in the head. The creature fell to the ground in a heap as Archaon turned to look at his army. They were being butchered by the chimeras, the beasts killing at average five of Archaon’s troops before falling.

The Everchosen rushed into the fray, his sword separating a chimera’s head from its torso as it lunged at him. The battle continued on like this for a while, until the chimeras pulled back, leaving the exhausted army be for the time being. Archaon looked at his forces again, before coming to a decision.

“My servants!” He roared, earning their attention, “This battle has been fought long and hard, but we even now run low on you meatbags!”They looked to each other in confusion. “That is why I want all but my Chosen to return to the ground below. I want you to find another town and to capture any and all ponies you can find for my return.” The warriors nodded, before Archaon began pointing at select soldiers who had made names for themselves in this climb and the battle previously.

After about five minutes of this, Archaon resumed the climb, along with a mere thirty of his Chosen, as well as the Daemon.

As they climbed, one of the Chosen walked closer to Archaon.

“M-my lord?” The earth pony asked, and Archaon’s gaze turned to him.

“Speak, Chosen. Do not waste my time with your stuttering.”

“Y-yes, my lord. I merely wished to know why, when we were getting slaughtered when we were at full strength, why you sent all but thirty of us back down the mountain?” The Chosen asked, looking at Archaon in fear.

“It is because only you thirty are truly worthy to climb this mountain.” Archaon growled, "Only you thirty have shown true promise to the Dark Gods. And should you survive the rest of the climb, you will have earned your places by my side. And only the greatest of you will become my Exalted, a champion of the Dark Gods!” Archaon raised his sword high in the air, and the Chosen cheered.

Spirits high once again, the Chosen marched, beating back the chimeras that assaulted them. During that fight, five of the Chosen died, their corpses forgotten by their brethren in the quest for glory.

As they neared the top, only ten remained.

Archaon bashed his shield into the chimera before him, staggering it as he brought his blade down on it. The creature staggered, before collapsing under his blade. Archaon glanced to his troops, seeing that they had quickly dealt with the other four chimeras. Nodding in satisfaction, he continued climbing, the rocky path soon turning to stone stairs. As Archaon reached the top, a condescending voice called down.

“You finally made it. I was wondering when I would get to meet you.” The snake-like creature said, it's body curled around a sword. It raised its lion’s paw in greeting. “Welcome, ‘Everchosen’. I am Discord, Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony!” The creature, now identified as Discord, said, snapping his chicken-like claws. A barrier formed around the two, sealing off Archaon’s Chosen from the summit.

“So, are you another fool who wishes to challenge me?” Archaon asked, drawing his blade. The odd creature chuckled, suddenly appearing on Archaon’s shoulder.

“Well, I wouldn't call myself a fool, but I am challenging you. After all, I ruled this land before you showed up. There can only be one Chaotic being here, and that's me!” Discord said disappearing in a flash of light, only to reappear in front of Archaon, wearing what looked like armor made from some sort of brown board. He raised the obviously fake sword towards Archaon. “Now, en garde, as the locals say.”

Archaon struck first, charging Discord with his blade, aiming to stab him and end this quickly. However, The Spirit of Chaos vanished once again, replaced by a strange looking pillow with an image of a female on it. Archaon’s blade ripped through it, and Discord’s voice cried out.

“Oh no! You just stabbed Mai Waifu! We were to be married tomorrow!” Discord reappeared, tears in his eyes as he cuddled the large pillow. Archaon growled.

“You dare mock me so?! I shall tear you apart and feed your entrails to the chimeras!”He roared, releasing a fireball. The burning ball slammed directly into Discord, but when the smoke vanished, he was still there, only with ridiculously poofed up hair.

“Oh come on! Do you know how long it took me to get my hair all ready for today?” Discord asked in mock anger. “It took me seconds! Entire seconds! And now look at what you have done! That's it, time out corner for you!” Discord snapped his fingers, the summit suddenly turned into white walls, with Archaon sitting in a chair staring at a wall.

The Everchosen roared, fire burning away the room, before staring down at Discord. Enough games, vermin! I shall end this!” He thrust forward, his blade barely managing to connect with the Spirit of Chaos’s body, but still doing enough damage to hurt him.

“Yeeeooowch!” Discord jumped, smoke flowing from his rear, before he ran over to a conveniently placed bucket of water. He sat down in it, the fire being snuffed out. “Oooh, that's much better.” He glared at Archaon. “Okay, fine. We will do this the old fashioned way!”

Purple smoke burst from his body, enveloping the entire area in purple fog. When it finally dissipated, where once the chimera-like Spirit of Chaos once stood, now stood a beast even worse than him. Two large wings sprouted from its hunched back, with a bird head as its face. Claws gripped onto a large staff, while its clawed legs stuck into the ground. Archaon’s eyes widened as he realized what he was truly facing: a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch.

“Now then, Archaon, I hate to use this form, but it's the easiest way to deal with you.” The Greater Daemon said, it's voice seemingly coming from all around Archaon. “It's nothing personal, but it's still pretty personal.” Discord raised his staff, arcane energy forming around it. Before Archaon could blink, a wave of immaterial energy blasted into him, knocking him to the floor after ramming past something.

As Discord stood above him, ready to strike the final blow, Archaon grabbed his sword, before stabbing Discord in the side. The Daemon gasped, dropping its staff as it clutched the wounded side.

“Wh-when did you grab the Slayer of Kings??” It asked, jumping back. Archaon glanced at the blade in his hand, and saw that it was indeed the Slayer of Kings. Archaon got back up, stepping forward and pointing the blade at Discord, the flames burning around it almost as bright as a sun.

“Remember this, Daemon. I am The Everchosen! No foe, not even a Greater Daemon, can stop me! I am he who wields the Slayer of Kings, and this world shall bow before me!”

“Rrrgh! I will get my revenge next time! Your too much of a bother as it is!” Discord growled, before disappearing in a flash of light. Archaon sighed, lowering the blade, and sheathing it. The barrier fell, and Archaon’s Chosen ran towards him.

“My lord, have you retrieved the Slayer of Kings?” The one from before asked.

“Of course I have!” Archaon barked, “I am the Everchosen! Nothing could stop me from my victory!”

“Of course, my lord!” The Chosen nodded. “Shall we return to the base of the mountain? I am certain the rest of your horde has gathered quite the collection of prisoners.”

“Yes.” Archaon nodded, stepping towards the steps.

A few hours later

“My followers!” Archaon yelled, standing upon a large outcropping in the terrain, allowing him to stand above the entire camp. “The battle for Chimera Plateau, while costly, was a success!”He drew his blade, pointing it towards the sky. “Hear me, world! I am Archaon, Everchosen of the Dark Gods, Lord of the End Times, and he who wields the Slayer of Kings!” He roared, earning cheers from the horde. "You may try to stop me with your weakling armies, but in the end, you will all fall before my wrath! I come for all! I shall not discriminate in my slaughter!” He stabbed the blade into the ground. "Let the End Times begin!!”

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!” His horde yelled.

Author's Note

And another chapter is done! If you haven't guessed already, I plan to have Archaon actually scour the northern wastes for the Six Treasures of Chaos, gathering power along the way.

Hope you enjoyed!
Also, the speech at the start was a rewritten version of Archaon's speech in Total War Warhammer for the Slayer of Kings mission.

Chapter Four: Battle for Griffish Isle, Part I

Archaon’s Horde, currently located on the northern beach of the soon to be Celestial Sea

Archaon watched with satisfaction as his warriors went about, building the boats that would allow him to find his next prize. One of his sorcerers had seen a vision three days ago, of an island out on the ocean that formed the border between two nations. There, in a temple buried under the island itself, lies armor shrouded in the protection of Chaos, once worn by an unholy being of destruction.

Archaon, ever hungry for power, decided to take a detour to this island, intent on claiming this armor for himself. His sorcerers has warned him that a warrior species, the Griffons, had been living in the island, no doubt there to guard the armor. Archaon welcomed the challenge, feeling that the ponies weren't challenging enough as of yet. And so, three days later, the boats for his voyage were nearly complete.

“My lord, preparations are nearly ready for the voyage. It will take several days to reach the island, so some of the soldiers have raided a nearby village for food.”

“Good, Sorcerer.” Archaon growled, watching as the first of the boats were put on the water. “Soon, we shall make war against a new foe. Soon, they shall learn to fear the name Archaon!” He marched towards the boats, ready for the journey.

Griffish Isle, one day later

“My lord!” A griffon messenger burst into the throne room, startling the guards and the Governor of the island.

“What is it? We are currently in the middle of important business.” The Governor, Slicer Dicer, groaned, the griffons he was speaking to growling in irritation.

“Th-the Oracle! The Oracle is speaking!” The Messenger said quickly. Slicer Dicer’s face paled, turning to the griffon nobles he had been talking to.

“Forgive me, sirs, but something of grave importance has just come up. I suggest you return to the mainland until the crisis is over.” He said, before standing up and following the messenger.

“What has she said?” Slicer asked, the true seriousness of the situation visible on his face. The Oracle rarely spoke, and when she did, it meant something big was coming.

“Something of a dark power. I cannot speak of it myself, for I left immediately to fetch you.” The messenger replied, sweat and fear rolling down his beak.

“Return to your home, messenger bird. That is an order.” Slicer said, and the messenger nodded, before flying back towards the civilian district.

Once Slicer arrived at the Oracle’s den, he walked in quickly, only to be confronted by the screeches of the elder Oracle.

“He comes!” She screeched, her claws gouging cuts into her elderly face. “The Bringer of Destruction comes!”

“Who, Oracle?” Slicer asked, and the elder griffon turned to him.

“He will arrive on sails of black, corrupted winds! The Destroyer, born from the blackest womb, of the most treacherous of creatures, who wields a sword of evil flames, the cage of a vile daemon, with the blood of kings on it’s blade! He seeks the Armor! He brings the End Times upon his vile shoulders, the favor of the Dark Gods draped around him like a cloak!” She babbled, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“What?!” Slicer asked, trying to understand what she was saying.

“The Annointed of the Dark Gods!” She screeched, “Fear the ground he treads, for he leaves the seeds of destruction speed in his wake! He comes from the East! He will slaughter all! None are safe!”

“Oracle!” Slicer growled, before looking on in horror as her head burst, pieces of her brain and skull flying all over the room. Blood splattered on Slicer’s beak, and he recoiled in disgust.

After a few moments of silence, he turned to a guard, meant to defend the
Oracle. “Raise the alarm. An attack is coming, and we must have every able body ready. Send word to the capital as well.” He ordered, and the guard nodded, before flying off towards the distant tower.

Slicer looked back to the Oracle’s corpse, before turning around and heading towards his castle. He sighed, knowing what he had to do.

Six days later

The griffon guards of Griffish Isle sat in wait at the foggy shores, bows and other long range weapons at the ready. They had been quickly called into action, the potential threat coming striking fear in many of the citizens. In fact, a large portion of the griffons had sent their kids to relatives in the mainland, before they themselves left. Only half of the island’s population of fifty thousand remained, not including the guards, who were spread out across the island.

“Gods, this is boring me now.” One of the griffons groaned, slouching. “We've been on guard for the past six days, and nothing's happened. Maybe this whole thing was a prank something.”

“Haven't you heard the rumors?” The guard next to him growled, “They say that the Oracle died giving us a warning of this threat.”

“Yeah, but rumors aren't exactly the truth.” The first guard shrugged, before a glint caught his eye from the fog, and he turned to look at it. “Hey, do you see that?”

“See what?” The other guard asked.

“It looks almost like….” His voice trailed off as a massive fireball flew out of the fog, smashing into the guard tower to his right, blasting it to pieces as the burning remains impacted on nearby guards. He quickly raised his bow, an arrow notched and pulled back.

Blackened sails flowed through the fog, with the demonic prows of ships poking through the fog. At the prow of the first ship to appear stood a creature the griffon had never seen. Standing as tall as a bear, if a bear was armored head to toe in more plate armor that he had ever seen on a Minotaur, what was obviously the leader raised a flaming sword. Two massive horns rise far above the creature's head, and what looked like the coat of some great beast hung over it’s shoulders like a cape.

“Hear me, Griffons!” a voice roared across the beach, I am Archaon, The Everchosen of Chaos! You think you're pathetic soldiers could intimidate me?! I, who brings ruin with my every step, sees not a defensive line, but a sand castle a small child built to keep away his monsters! So come, fools who try to fight the Herald of the End Times! Come, and show me what passes for fury among your misbegotten kind!”

There was a momentary silence as the griffon guards took a moment to fully comprehend the insult he had just laid upon them. Then, in a cry of rage, a large majority of the guards took flight, abandoning their bows for their razor sharp claws as they raced towards the boats.

Had they been close enough, they would have heard the heart-stopping chuckle that rose from the creature.

Ponies suddenly rose from the boats, arrows notched and pointed towards the flying griffons that had just unknowingly sacrificed themselves to the Dark Powers.

Hundreds of arrows flew through the air, striking the airborne griffons with unnatural accuracy. The guards who had fought of their rage watched in horror as the sky lit up in blue flames, Griffons crying out in horror and agony as the arrows that had hit them set them ablaze with the unnatural fire. Burning corpses splashed into the water, coloring the beach red.

“Return fire!” The remaining captains roared, and the remaining guards, their forces now cut in half. But as the guards readied their arrows, unholy horrors rose from the sea, their twisted claws and pink, bubbly flesh striking fear into the hearts of the Griffons. Strange, spiked tentacles lashed out from the abominations, ripping guards apart as the horrors closed in.

“W-we must fight these monstrosities! Use the claws you were given at birth!” The captain shouted, fear obvious in his voice. Many Griffons did the exact opposite of his words, and turned to flee back into the forest.

“Run, little griffons!” Archaon roared, stepping onto the shore of Griffish Isle. The sand below him turned black, fusing into glass. One of the remaining griffon guards landed in front of him, hatred in his eyes.

“Monster!” He roared, lunging at Archaon with claws outstretched. Archaon glared down at the guard, pulling up his shield to block. The Griffon’s eyes narrowed, and he flew up, landing behind Archaon and slashing at his undefended backside. The Griffon’s claws scraped through fur and across metal, digging deep into Archaon’s armor, but failing to penetrate. The Everchosen turned, smashing his shield into the griffon’s side as he brought his sword to bear.

The griffon pulled back, noticing a ring forming around him. Growling in frustration, he took to the skies, dodging the horrific creatures that served in Archaon’s Horde and fleeing into the forest. The Everchosen snarled as he watched.

“It seems the Griffons can show more intellect than ponies.” Archaon chuckled, turning to the Sorcerer that walked up to him.

“Master, shall we give chase?” He asked, slightly more confident than most.

”No. I haven't had an actual challenge in months, besides the Chimeras. We will set up camp for now, and march in the morning.” Archaon ordered, and the Sorcerer nodded.

“As you wish, my Lord.” He nodded, bowing before turning back to the hordes.

Griffith Isle Capitol, Everstone

Slicer looked on in anger at the returning guards. Barely half of them remained, and they only brought horrific tales of trickery and slaughter. He now stood in front of them on top of a pedestal, gazing at each hollow or horrified face. He cleared his throat.

“Warriors of the Griffish Isle,” he began, “You fought the monster that threatens our island, and you failed to stop him and his army from landing on our shores. Half of you gave yourselves up over something so simple as an insult! We griffons may have pride, but to jump so readily into so obvious a trap? They have shamed our people, and are better off dead.”

Looks of sorrow met his eyes. “But while you fled in the face of the enemy, we now know a small bit of the enemy we face, though it is still very little. We may have to use our last resort if this is what the pride of Griffish Isle can do.” He barked. “You shall be retasked to fight for our Capitol, as well as fighting the enemy in the forests. Perhaps there you can at least die with honor. Dismissed.” The Guards filed away to the barracks, though a small group of them walked forward.

“Sir, Private Quick Slash here says he fought the leader of the enemy in one on one combat.” One of the guards said, gesturing towards the one in the middle. He stepped forward.

“Oh really?” Slicer raised an eyebrow. “Then by all means, give me your report.”

“Yes sir.” The Private replied, saluting before speaking again, “The leader of this enemy, Archaon, is of an unknown species, though he looks similar to a Minotaur. While immensely strong, he is not agile, especially with the amount of armor he has on. Basic attacks with our claws won't damage his armor unless we hit a weak spot, and while he is indeed smart, he is prideful. Instead of having his minions finish me off, he fought me one on one, and even allowed me to escape when I realized how fruitless my fight would be. Also…”

“Also?”

“He emanates an aura of fear around him. As I fought him, I felt a great urge to flee. He is not to be taken lightly, though we can capture him in a trap.”

“I see.” Slicer nodded, turning to his guards. “Promote this griffon to Officer for providing this valuable information, and get our strategists to create a plan with this info.” He ordered. The guards nodded, before turning away and flying off. He turned back to the Private. “On behalf of the Guard of the Griffish Isle, I thank you for your bravery.”

“It was nothing, my Lord.” Quick Slash bowed, before getting back up. “What would you want me to do?”

“For now, rest, and prepare for tomorrow. The enemy will probably begin marching through the forest by then.” Slicer said, before turning and flying back to the castle.

When he finally arrived, a priest walked up to him. “It is ready, my lord. We only await you and the Chosen.” The priest said, bowing lightly.

Slicer’s face hardened. “Of course, I shall bring her as soon as possible.” The priest nodded, her claws clacked against the cold marble as she turned and left. Slicer sighed, turning towards a door. Opening it, he was greeted by two guards and a female griffon inside a small, dark, and depressing stone prison cell, the girl chained to the wall, and her claws bound with an incredibly durable fabric. He nodded to the guards, who removed her restraints to the wall.

“It is time. Bring her to the Chamber.” He ordered turning around and heading off to where the priest went, and the guards pulled her along, her still-bound limbs dragging across the floor.

After a few minutes of walking through the seemingly gloomy halls, with portraits of previous rulers staring down at them, almost like they were judging them, Slicer opened a false wall, stepping inside as he gazed around the room he was in.

Strange religious items decorated the walls, the most prominent being a star with eight points. Fire blazed from stone pillars, eight of them circling around a large stone slab in the center and casting shadows across the walls. Strange runes dotted the slab, which hurt Slicer’s eyes to look at. The entire sight was completed with a group of priests surrounding the slab, claws raised in prayer. The Priest from before walked up to Slicer.

“Welcome, my Lord. Is the Chosen ready?” She asked, not meeting his look of disgust.

“Yes, Priest, though I do not see what such a horrible ritual could do to aid us in this battle.” Slicer growled, looking around. He could barely hear whispers circling around the room, unnatural, and without source.

“Do not worry, Lord Slicer, this ritual will save the Griffish Isle from destruction.” The Priest said, her beak split in a grin. “Chain her onto the altar.”

Slicer nodded to the guards, who brought the girl towards the slab, affixing her restraints to the sides.

“Get this done, Priest, and quickly.” Slicer growled, turning towards the door.

“Oh, but my Lord, this girl isn't enough!” The Priest cackled, and before Slicer could turn to ask her what she meant, he felt something hit the back of his head, hard. He dropped to the floor, seeing the Priest standing over him with a club, while the other Priests knocked out the guards. It was the last sight he saw before slipping into unconsciousness.

When Slicer regained consciousness, he found himself, along with the girl, bound to the altar, which seemed to have extended, though that was physically impossible. He tugged at his restraints as the priests- no, cultists, gathered around them.

“Release me at once!” He ordered, only for the Priest to laugh.

“Oh, but my lord, in order for the ritual to work, we need the blood of royalty!” She squawked, a black and crooked dagger in her claws. It almost looked like reality itself bent around the blade, its crooked and oddly bent edge seeming almost… hungry.

She stepped back, revealing the two guards, bound and gagged. She quickly slid the dagger across their throats, held up by the other cultists, their blood spewing forth from their necks like a red waterfall, splattering across the floor. Unseen by Slicer, the blood began to form circles, with unholy glyphs forming inside each ring. The Priest stepped forward, careful not to disrupt the rapidly forming circle.

“And now, for the main sacrifice.” She gently put the ritual dagger to the panicking girl’s throat, dragging it across her flesh, and cutting through it like a claw through water. The girl stopped, her face gasping for breath like a fish out of water, as what looked like black, oozing tentacles flew from the dagger and into the girl’s open neck. The Priest then brought the knife to Slicer, cutting away his last moments of life.

Once he was dead, the Priest unchained his corpse, before lifting it up, and letting his blood pour into the girl’s neck wound, and into her waiting beak. The other cultists began praying, dark litanies spewing from their beaks even as their ears began to bleed. Dark energy circled around them, pooling into the girl’s corpse as it began to float above the altar, her chains snapping like twigs.

The neck wound vanished as vines burst from her arms, green leaves forming around them in a protective circle. Two branches burst from her head, forming two horns as even more leaves dotted them. As even more transformations erupted across her body, one of the cultists collapsed, dead, his soul sucked away by the powers around them. Three more died before the transformation was completed, and she opened her tar-black eyes, yellow pupils piercing through the dark energies swirling around her.

“Praise the Power of the Dark Gods, for they have delivered to us a champion to destroy the intruders!” The Priest cried, and the surviving four cultists joined her in her cheers. The daemon looked around at them.

“I understand the situation, servants of the Lords of Chaos.” She said, her voice seeming like an echo, as if she wasn't really there. “In your tongue, I am Mazarish, Servant of Lord Tzeentch. I am the one who shall save you from the Everchosen!” Her silky voice purred around them, and they cheered again, even as she floated out of the room.

“I have waited for the day,” She sang, floating past the halls, even as green flora grew across the walls, “To take this greedy scum away. Now the Gods are my protection! Gather close, for your salvation. We, will, stand for Everstone!”

She slid her new hands across a marble statue, watching with satisfaction as thorned vines sprouted across it. “Behold the beauty of nature, in all its glory! No need to fear the hounds at the door.” She flew out of the castle, observing the town below. “Right here you have me to fight for you, with my blades of thorns! For Everstone for evermore!”

“They have come into our domain,” She continued, “Here to seal our land in pain! But we have held it for generations! This is just a complication!” She floated above the ground, hovering in front of the wall facing the forum. “We! Will! Stand for Everstone!” Griffons around the town looked up, seeing the unusual manifestation of nature.

“Trust in me, this is for our own good,” the green plants began sprouting around the ground below her, forming a throne of wood that she hovered down to. “Nature is our friend. All of this beauty that surrounds us, every lovely bloom!” A fly buzzed around her, before getting crushed by a wooden slab that erupted from her throne. “Designed to defend!”

“Let them come, just let them try!” She roared, stepping off her throne, “I will be here to see him die! This town will be here throughout the ages! Written into the history pages. WE! WILL! Stand for Everstone!”

Author's Note

Heyo! Got another chapter out for ya! Sorry this took a while, I got distracted easily. And yes, I promised I would update Nightmares of Equestria. I just had to get this done.

Also, SURPRISE! A song!
It is a semi-parody of the Legend of the Everfree song, "Stand For Everfree", which is my favorite song from the movie.

Blahblahblah, Song owned by Hasbro, blahblahblah, I only own the story and the changes I made.

Hope you enjoyed! Please be sure to upvote if you haven't already, and if you liked this story, give it a track, and yeah! See you in the next chapter!

Chapter Five: Battle for the Griffish Isle, Part Two

Griffish Isle Beach, the next day

”Come, my minions! Let us bring ruin to the Griffish Isle, and claim what is rightfully mine!” Archaon roared, and his army cheered, before running into the forest with a unholy lust for slaughter. Archaon glanced at the trees, feeling something was off. Shrugging, the Everchosen walked past the beach and entered the forest, a trail of ruined and burning ground left in his wake. A group of heavily armored Chaos Ponies accompanied him, forming his Guard.

Ten Minutes Later

“Lord Archaon, there is something off with the forest.” The Sorcerer said, appearing next to Archaon out of the shadows. “I can sense the inklings of Chaos Magic inside the trees, and an even greater magical being just beyond.”

“It is likely the effect of the Armor of Morkar, Sorcerer.” Archaon growled, continuing his march across the forest.

“Perhaps, my Lord.” The Sorcerer agreed, until the silence that filled the forest was broken by screams. The screams of Archaon’s soldiers, for no creature not touched by the Immaterium could make such a noise. When Archaon and the Sorcerer arrived at the scene, they found the corpses of thirty Chaos Ponies, impaled upon trees around the clearing. Blood trickled down the branches, dripping onto the ground below and making eight puddles. Their mouths were open in now silent agony, the ponies now dead. The soulless eyes stared at Archaon, almost judgmentally. However, Archaon had no fucks to give, so it did not disturb him all too much.

Archaon drew his sword, flames flickering across its possessed blade. Before Archaon could blink, arrows shot out of the trees, only to be blocked by a shield of flames created by the Sorcerer, the arrows burning into ash the second they touched the flaming wall.

Griffons poured out of the trees, charging towards Archaon, only to be met by a wall of Archaon’s Chosen, talons being introduced-and rejected- by the cold steel of the Chosen’s armor.

“For the Blood God!” One yelled, a sword encased in a red glow falling upon a Griffon’s head, slicing it in two. Archaon himself jumped into the fray, The Slayer of Kings ripping apart the unlucky Griffon below him, blood being denied its freedom as the flames instantly cauterized the wound.

”You call yourselves warriors?!” Archaon taunted, smashing his shield into a griffon charging at him, the poor soul’s beak breaking as soon as it rammed full force into the shield. ”Even the ponies fight better than you! Give me a challenge! Give me something to enjoy!”

“Die, you filth!” A griffon with a large axe roared, smashing it into a Chosen, the axe crushing his armor, and the warrior inside. The griffon was massive, larger than any other griffon Archaon had encountered, with muscles rippling underneath his fur. Two massive wings sat on his back, while two predatory eyes gleamed from his face above his moustache, looking at Archaon with uncontrolled hate. He stepped forward, dragging the massive weapon behind him.

Archaon accepted his obvious challenge, raising his shield in front of him. Holding his sword above his head, he charged forward, preparing to deliver a quick slash down the brute’s side. Before he could, however, his back was suddenly to a tree, his shield a ruined mess where the axe had smashed into it, nearly cutting it in two. Archaon discarded the now useless shield, before jumping out of the way as he saw the griffon attempting to barrel straight into him. The musclebound griffon broke through the tree, coming to a stop as he turned to look back at Archaon.

“So, monster, you can do more than run head on into your enemy? I gave you too little credit.” The griffon growled, and Archaon then noticed some pointless sparkles around the Griffon. He disregarded them immediately.

”And I see that your pathetic species can scrounge up some somewhat strong fighters. Let's see how capable you are!” Archaon growled, putting his blade in between him and the griffon. ”May I have the satisfaction of knowing your name, griffon? I might just remember you later.”

“I am the Grimstone Wingstrong, Major of the Griffish Isle Guard, and head of the Wingstrong Family!” The Griffon proclaimed proudly, for some reason flexing his muscles. Archaon rolled his eyes, before sensing a sudden hunger from the Slayer of Kings.

”I am Archaon, Everchosen of Chaos, and He who wields the Slayer of Kings. I am assuming you are of some noble family?” Archaon replied, putting the Slayer of Kings in front of him in a form of salute.

“Indeed I am! My family has been of nobility since the beginning of the Griffon Empire!” Wingstrong declared proudly.

”Good.” Archaon chuckled, the Slayer of Kings now almost screaming in his mind for the blood of this griffon. ”I expect a good fight from you, Wingstrong! Prove to me that your species is not as inept as the previous examples have shown to me!” Archaon roared, charging Wingstrong head on.

“I will make sure that I do!” Wingstrong replied, getting into a battle stance. The iron grip of Wingstrong’s claws wrapped around Archaon’s shoulders, crushing the armor as the incredibly buff Griffon tossed the Everchosen over him, smashing Archaon into the ground behind him.

The Everchosen quickly got up, slashing at Wingstrong’s back, only for the griffon to jump into the air, and out of the way of the deadly blade.

“You will have to try harder than that, Archaon!” Wingstrong taunted, dodging out of the way of the fireball flung at him. Rushing back down, he piledrived into Archaon’s midsection, taking him airborne as Wingstrong smashed him through the trees, away from the battle. When they were far enough away from the fight, Wingstrong released the Everchosen, letting him crash into the dirt, before sliding to a stop.

“This is the best your Gods can provide?” Wingstrong asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. “I'm sorry to say so, but you can never best me!”

Archaon rose slowly, black blood leaking out of the cracks in his armor.
”I….am the Everchosen of Chaos….” He growled, struggling to his feet. ”I...will not be defeated...by the likes of you!” He stumbled forward, before throwing the Slayer of Kings at the griffon. He simply moved his head to the side, allowing the blade to pass by his head.

“Sorry to say, but it appears you are all out of power. Your armies will be defeated, and your reign of Terror will end here. Any last words?”

”I'll see you in hell, bastard!” Archaon spat. Wingstrong shook his head sadly.

“I'm sorry, but that's not what's going to-” He began, but was interrupted when a blade burst through his chest. “Wha…?” He turned his head to find the Sorcerer behind him, the magic of the Sorcerer holding the Slayer of Kings aloft as it sank deeper into Wingstrong’s back.

“Unfortunately, Wingstrong, it will not be you who kills the Everchosen.” The Sorcerer cackled, removing the blade as the Major of the Griffon forces fell into the ground, dead. Archaon marched towards the Sorcerer, eyes locked onto the corpse of Grimstone.

“No, if anyone will kill the Everchosen, it will be me!” He cackled, before Archaon ripped the blade out of his magic, and separated his head from his body, ending the traitorous Sorcerer’s life in an instant. Blood spewed from the stump, drenching the fool’s cloak in blood as the body fell to the ground, soaking the grass in his blood. Archaon crushed the head under his boot, splattering the ground with brain Matter, bits of his skull, and blood.

”He was to be my kill, not yours, Sorcerer. You were not worthy of killing such a foe, let alone wielding the Slayer of Kings to do so.” Archaon growled, returning the Slayer of Kings to it’s sheath, where it purred with anger at being touched by that Sorcerer’s magic. ”I can sense a power here….” He glanced around, noticing the large, ruined building, with trees and vines growing out of it. The Everchosen could sense a familiar power deep inside, and he marched towards it, his wounds beginning to heal under his armor.

He broke through the foliage covering the entrance, stepping through and gazing around the ruined building, which he recognized as once being a castle. He marched towards the throne room, sensing the power directly below him.

”The Dark Gods must have blessed me, for that foolish Griffon Wingstrong brought me right to where I wanted to be…” Archaon growled, destroying the already damaged throne with a fireball. When the rubble and dust cleared, a spiral staircase revealed itself, leading down into the shadows below. Archaon, unfazed, stomped down the stairs, his eyes glowing with determination.

After thirty minutes of walking, Archaon arrived at the bottom, and looked around. From what little he could see, he was in a massive chamber, smothered in darkness like a cold hug. Archaon grabbed a torch from one of the walls, before lighting it with his magic. The flame was instantly snuffed out, the shadows themselves seeming to hungrily eat the flames. Archaon tossed the torch away, before drawing his sword and marching forward, stepping into a large pool of water, which covered the floor of the massive chamber.

Archaon continued his walk through the darkness, whispers and voices calling out to him from the darkness. He ignored them, eyes sweeping across the shadows in front of him. He stopped suddenly, using his ears to hear the sound of another being walking through the water, seemingly towards him. He continued at his original pace, the sound of other feet swishing through the water getting closer and closer. When Archaon felt like there was something in front of him, he slashed out with the Slayer of Kings, fire igniting briefly to reveal a figure dodging his strike.

He only caught a glimpse, but he still got enough information. Black armor, with a large axe gripped in its hand. Grinning underneath his mask, he roared out into the shadows a challenge.

”Morkar! First of the Everchosen! I know your spirit still haunts thy Armor, but I am here to take it! I am Archaon, the Fifth Everchosen of Chaos, and the Bringer of the End Times! You, Morkar, are long dead! Surrender thy armor to me, so that I may bring the destruction the Dark Gods desire!” Archaon raised his blade, the Slayer of Kings burning brightly, vanishing the shadows around them.

The massive axe of Morkar came flying down, and Archaon narrowly avoided it, leaping out of the way as it smashed into the solid stone floor, smashing it into pieces.

”Everchosen...prove thy worth to me, he who claims to be Everchosen. Show me thy are worthy of leading the Armies of Chaos...as I did so long ago!” The voice of Morkar replied, sounding far away and distorted. A face appeared within the helmet, old and disfigured. Two black eyes pierced into Archaon, searching through his soul.

Archaon wasted no time, charging straight towards the Haunted Armor, leaping out of the way of Morkar’s strike, before slashing into the side of the First Everchosen. It had no effect, and the Slayer of Kings bounced off the unholy armor. Archaon jumped back, narrowly avoiding a swing from Morkar’s axe that would have cut him in two.

”You, who haunts your armor like a child refusing to relent their toy! You may have been the First Everchosen, but you're nothing compared to me!” Archaon growled, unleashing a large fireball straight into the approaching armor. The tall figure was engulfed in flames, and Archaon grinned. Until an armored hand flew through the fire and latched onto his throat.

”You believe such paltry magic can defeat me, who fought Sigmar?!” The armored ghost growled, tossing Archaon through a pillar. ”You are nothing compared to him, a speck on my foot. What makes you think you are worthy to lead the Legions of Chaos?”

”I know my fate! My fate is to bring ruin to this world! The Gods themselves have decreed it!” Archaon growled, slashing at Morkar as he approached. ”You are a forgotten relic, the remains of a great Champion of Chaos! But I will do better! I will succeed where you failed! I will bring the Chaos to this world, and bring about the End Times! I am Archaon, and something so pitiful as a ghost refusing to let go of his armor will never defeat me!” He charged forward, crying out in a language he himself didn't know.

Morkar paused, almost recoiling from the words as Archaon’s blade slipped into a softer spot in the armor, unleashing its Daemonic power. The spirit of Morkar flickered, before slumping over Archaon.

”Y-you...you, who is the Bringer of the End Times….”He coughed, flickering in and out of existence. ”You have shown me the truth of the Dark Gods….I accept you as the Everchosen...wield my armor with the fury of Khorne himself!”the ghost dissipated, and the armor collapsed to the ground, empty. Archaon glared down at the armor.

”Don't tell me what to do, old timer.” He growled, taking the armor for himself.

Author's Note

And now Archaon has the Armor of Morkar! Now he has plot armor tougher than everything except Sigmar and above!
Hahaah, in all seriousness, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I left a few references around here and there, can you find them?

If you enjoy the story so far, please leave an upvote and start tracking it! It brings me great joy to see the Upvote V. Downvote Ratio is better for the upvote side!

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Ability in writing, and for coming up with more ideas!

Chapter Six: Battle for Griffish Isle, Part Three

Archaon staggered slightly as he exited the cavern, the Armor of Morkar surrounding his body. Outside, the battle against the Griffons continued, though now the battle seemed less ferocious, as the Griffons had begun to retreat once again. Archaon snorted angrily, gripping a fleeing griffon that passed him, squeezing the life out of it through it’s neck. There was the sound of his neck breaking under the pressure from Archaon’s grip, and the Everchosen tossed the corpse to the ground, the head falling off as the ruined and bleeding throat of the griffon could no longer support it, the head breaking off with a sickening tearing sound.

“Warriors who serve me!” Archaon roared, his body already healing from the battles fought with Wingstrong and Morkar’s Spirit. ”The Armor of Morkar is mine! And the foolish Sorcerer who dared to defy me has fallen under my heel. Such is the fate of so cowardly a traitorous worm!” He pointed the Slayer of Kings towards the town of Everstone, the castle only just visible above the tree line. ”In celebration, we shall ransack what remains of the Griffon cowards on this pathetic rock! Once we have taken their gold, we will raze this pathetic island!”

The cheers of his Warriors greeted this proclamation, and Archaon took the lead, his army marching behind him, reforming under the trees. The ranks ready, the Legion marched for the city, lowly sorcerers staying behind to summon forth Daemonic weapons for the coming battle.

The Daemon summoned by the griffons sensed the march of the tides of Chaos, and surrounded Everstone in a mass of wooden vines and branches, in an attempt to increase the fortifications of the city. That done, she used her powers of the Warp, which had been soaking into the trees and plants of the entire island, to harass and weaken Archaon’s army as much as possible.

Archaon was soon very irritated as yet another of his Warriors was taken by the trees, which had come to life through unknown means. Archaon could most definitely sense the powers of the Dark Gods at work here, and he growled angrily.

“The Dark Gods seek to put us to the test, even though I have proven time and time again that we are worthy to bring the End Times! We claimed the Slayer of Kings, we brought ruin to the land we marched across! We claimed the Armor of Morkar, and yet still the Gods seek to test us!” Archaon stomped the ground, and flames burst from his iron boot, scorching the grass and blackening the dirt beneath. ”They believe we are not yet ready to bring about the End Times! What say you to this?!” He roared to his army, and his roar was met with the cry of blood from every warrior, calling for the wholesale slaughter to come.

”We will show the Dark Gods that we are more than capable of clearing their tests with ease! We shall make these griffons, who use the very plant life around their city, while they stay in their town, an example of our wrath! With our blades and axes, we shall make this town bathe in the blood of it’s people! It will make a fine example, and a tribute to the Blood God!” Archaon yelled, and the trees in front of him burst into flame, the daemonic flames spreading across the trees between Archaon’s horde and the city of Everstone. Soon, a blackened path of ash and burned ground beckoned the Legion of the Dark Gods forth, and to the walls surrounding Everstone, while frightened guards got their first sight of their enemy.

Archaon raised his blade high, uttering a cry so horrible the closest of the remaining trees wilted at such a shrill and daemonic roar. His Legion was invigorated by the declaration, rushing forth as Archaon marched slowly towards the Griffon city. The Griffons, after recoiling from the sound Archaon had wrought upon their ears, let fly a tide of arrows to strike at the horde of abominations rushing towards them, cries baying for fresh blood spewing even as arrows found their mark, striking dead some of the more eager and bloodthirsty berserkers, while the rest, having some medium of self-control, raised their shields up to block the oncoming cloud, their mutated limbs allowing them to stand on two legs, while grotesque claws without fur held shield and axe.

Archaon himself cared little for the arrows blunting against his unholy armor, finding no purchase to his flesh. He began chanting a dark, and unholy phrase, drawing upon the Magic Tides that were so strong in this world. Yelling with rage, his voice brought forth the powers of Chaos into reality, materializing as a massive ball of flames, which sailed over the heads of his army, and crashing straight into the wooden barricades, vaporizing them even as the daemonic flames leaped across the Griffon lines, roasting a good amount of the bird-like soldiers, the flames reaching into the unarmored parts of their body to latch onto the feathers beneath. The unfortunate griffons soon found themselves screaming in agony as flames licked up their limbs, searing their flesh and cooking them inside their armor.

As the first of Archaon’s Horde reached the city walls, they began using what little was left of the wooden vines to climb to the top, even as the rest of the horde brought ladders to climb the walls. The first of the mutated equines leapt up onto the walls, and landed on a very unlucky griffon, the monster’s toothy and unnatural jaw extending, before closing violently around the guard’s neck, biting through the leather meant to defend the poor soldier, and sinking into his feathered flesh, blood pooling around the fangs, even as the monster pulled back, a horrendous tearing sound rushing alongside the monster’s fangs as it ripped open the griffon’s neck, blood rushing out of the open wound like a small, red waterfall as the unfortunate griffon attempted to bring air to his lungs, even as he watched the pony daemon roar in triumph, only to find a spear ripping through the beast’s mouth, before violently rushing back out. The monster fell to the cobblestone floor dead, even as more of the monsters rushed onto the wall. The dying Griffon was lucky enough to be the first death.

“Let not even a single one of the abominations pass beyond this wall!” A captain cried, using his wings to wield two swords even as they separated the heads of two more creatures. “For only in death does our duty end!” The other guards yelled in reply, brandishing their swords and spears even as more of their brethren died to the claws of the grotesque nightmares. The steel of their blades met mutated and festering flesh, ripping apart flesh and bone even as Archaon arrived at the wall.

The Everchosen of Chaos scaled the ladders among his Legion, jumping into the fray as Chaos Spawn, the most horrifically mutated of the ponies he had brought under his banner, lumbered towards the main gate, their claws and other limbs bashing against the large, wooden doors. Archaon waded through the forces on the walls, the Slayer of Kings blazing even as it ripped through the Griffon that had attempted to bring his sword to bear against the Bringer of The End Times. A spear broke against the Armor of Morkar, the wooden shaft splintering against the impenetrable wall of unholy metal.

The Captain of the Guard leapt towards Archaon, his twin swords rushing for Archaon’s head as the Griffon roared fiercely. Archaon smashed his shield against the Captain’s beak, caving the poor fool’s face in as the beak sank back into his skull, pushing straight through his spinal cord with a sharp crack. The lifeless captain fell, toppling off the wall and slamming into the cobblestone street below headfirst, splattering blood, shards of bone, and brain matter across the stone. Archaon felt the newly released souls being pulled from the Tides of Magic and towards the palace in the center of the town.

As what little remained of the Griffon Guard fled from their walls and into the city, the Chaos Spawn brought their claws into the gate for the final time, splintering the wooden gate into pieces as the Spawn roared in triumph, and the flood of chaos ponies rushed into the new opening, charging into the streets. Archaon watched them rush in, pleased with the fervor they showed as they cried for more sacrifices to the Dark Gods.

”My Minions!” Archaon roared from the walls, causing all the mutated ponies to stop and stare at him in fear. ”Round up what little resistance remains here, and bring the prisoners to me! And once all resistance has died out, deprive of this city all its riches!” The monsters that had once been ponies cheered, spreading out into the city to hunt down whatever remained.

Meanwhile, in the Palace

As the last of the surviving griffons trickled in, Officer Quick Slash growled in contempt. Barely even fifty of the guards tasked with holding the Walls had returned, the cowards having abandoned their posts while the enemy roamed throughout their great city, contaminating what was once a shining beacon of a city with their unholy existence.

”You are right, the pathetic cowards were better off dying on the walls.” a feminine voice slithered into his ears, and he turned to find the Holy Protector, Mazarish, hovering next to him. He immediately bowed, but with a wave of her hand, green vines sprouted to raise the Officer back to his feet. ”No need to bow, Warrior of the Griffish Isles,” She said, a light smile on her beak, which had twigs growing out of it. ”True Warriors such as yourself shouldn't kneel before me.”

“I-I thank you for your praise, your Holy Majesty.” Quick Slash stuttered. “To what do I owe your attention?” Mazarish smiled softly, like that of a mother greeting her child.

”I wish for you to lead the defense of this palace.” She said softly, her purple eyes staring down at him with hidden amusement. ”I entrust you, one who has fought Archaon and survived, to defend our last bastion of hope. I am not quite ready to fight, so you must hold the enemy back, even if it means sacrificing the lives of your comrades. Doing this will earn you my favor, and my gifts.” The Nature-infused Protector lifted his gaze to meet hers. ”Will you accept this holiest of tasks?”

“Of course, Your Holiness!” Quick Slash replied, his eyes wide with pride. Mazarish grinned as her powers brought forth a black blade, which hissed with untapped power as it entered the material realm. Quick Slash, receiving a nod from the Protector, gripped the blade in his claws, feeling power begin to course through him. “This...feels….incredible!” The Griffon yelped as mutations wracked across his body. Roots sprouted from his forelegs, covered in blood as they wrapped around the Griffon, jabbing back into his claws, which soon glowed a dark emerald, black claws ripping out of his wrists to form spikes.

His face suffered from the mutations as well. His jaw broke, extending downward as fangs grew out from his beak, dripping with his own blood as they extended. His eyes blackened, losing their sight even as his ears grew, giving him the hearing of a bat. His chest erupted in thorns and vines, black blood pooling around the Griffon as the vines crushed his ribs, soon replacing them with tree-like wooden replacements, his body expanding with muscles. His wings creaked and cracked, soon becoming bone-like blades, which glistened with blood as his feathers fell away all at once. His hind legs snapped as they reorganized themselves, allowing Quick Slash to stand on two legs even as more claw-like protrusions ripped their way through his legs, gripping onto the floor to the point the marble cracked where the claws met it.

Soon, the transformation was complete, and Quick Slash, now a horrific monster, roared, boasting a challenge to all who heard it. The griffons roared along with him, his cry filling them with unnatural energy, while all but the strong-willed of Archaon’s horde backed away from the palace, which echoed with the power of his roar. Archaon, marching through the town to the palace, paused for but a moment, listening to the animalistic and brutal roar. His guards all flinched, but immediately continued their march, and Archaon chuckled as the cry subsided.

”Come then, Mutant scum!” Archaon roared to the empty streets,

The Slayer of Kings flaring momentarily in response to the unknown creature’s cry. ”If you wish to fight me for your pathetic Protector, then I shall bring your death with my blade!”

Author's Note

And as another chapter of Archaon's path of wholesale slaughter ends, so continues the march of the End Times!

I hope you all enjoyed, and sorry for taking so long with this. Lately I've been lacking motivation to write anything, and I've also been reading the Count of Monte Cristo, so that's taken up most of my time.

I'll see you in the next one!

Chapter Seven: The Battle For Griffish Isle, End Chapter

Archaon marched through the streets of the Griffin city, his sword blazing hungrily for more blood, the flames reflecting against the Everchosen’s black armor. The cries of pain and suffering echoed across the empty street, giving proof of his Legion’s activities as they found more victims. However, the Everchosen cared little about the spoils of his slaves. His blazing orange eyes were focused solely upon the palace, towering over the rest of the city. Arrows flew from it’s windows, striking down any of the horrific mutants that got too close to the palace walls, covered in the roots of a massive tree growing from the palace’s roof, slowly generating a wooden dome around the city.

“Master, the cowardly griffins have their palace well defended. How do you plan to conquer their last pathetic stronghold?” One of Archaon’s Chosen growled, the eight warriors marching behind their master, the mutations wreaked upon them having changed them from pathetic ponies into bipedal, humanoid monstrosities, several horns sprouting out of one of their heads, while another had massive, bat-like wings, spikes tearing out of his arms. Each of the Chosen carried a massive, two handed battle axe, it’s blade glowing orange from the daemonic powers filling each of the Great Weapons forged with Chaos Magic.

“One of their own has dared to challenge me to a duel! If he dares to bar those gates to me, then he is nothing more than a coward who’s bark is worse than his bite. You shall gather our Legion together, and while I fight the weakling who dares to challenge me, you will march our forces to the doors, and break them!” Archaon declared, raising his sword high.

“My lord, what if you fall to this challenger, or he is dishonorable and they instead all descend upon you?” The captain of the Chosen asked, only to find the Slayer of Kings at his throat.

Do you doubt the power of me, the Everchosen of Chaos?!” Archaon growled angrily, and the Captain staggered back from the force of his voice. “Such pathetic creatures as these Griffins could never defeat me! Now, gather our forces, as I have ordered, or you shall find your blood feeding the Slayer of Kings for your insolence!”

The Captain nodded quickly, and the Chosen dispersed to spread the word. Archaon snorted angrily, lowering his flaming blade and continuing his walk towards the palace.

Everstone Palace

The creature once known as Quick Slash growled impatiently, observing the paths leading to the palace like a hawk. The rest of the guards either manned their stations, shooting down any of Archaon’s forces that drew near, or knelt and prayed around Quick Slash, his holy gifts from their Protector seen as a symbol of hope. As they prayed, a griffin messenger flew up to Quick Slash, kneeling before him before he spoke.

“Champion of Her Holiness, the bastard son known as Archaon approaches the palace gates from the North. Shall our archers fell this abomination that has brought ruin to our proud people?” The messenger asked, and Quick Slash’s daemonic maw shifted into a grin.

“No, messenger. Tell them to open the gates, and to clear out the main courtyard. I shall personally slaughter Archaon, as a sign of my devotion to our Protector!” He declared, and the griffins around him cheered, their prayers soon continued.

“Very well, Champion, I shall go deliver your Holy Word.” The Messenger bowed again, before taking off, his wings carrying him away. Quick Slash left his post at the window, his grotesquely mutated legs cracking the ground beneath them as he walked towards the courtyard.

The Palace Gates

Archaon walked across the bridge to the palace, the grip on his sword tightening. He found the gates opening slowly before him, revealing the main courtyard beyond, and the monstrous mutant that awaited him.

“So, you are the pathetic worm that dares challenge me, the Everchosen of Chaos?” Archaon growled as he drew closer. “Suffice to say, I am not impressed.”

“How dare you speak in such a tone to the Champion?!” A griffin called down from above. “Blasphemer!”

The monster before Archaon let loose a wet growl. It took Archaon a moment to realize it was laughing. His eyes narrowed.

“It is obvious as to why you cannot recognize me, Archaon!” The monster laughed, it's claws clutching it’s sides. “I have ascended to become our Protector’s Champion! I am Quick Slash, the Griffin you fought on our beaches!”

“The only Griffin I remember fighting was Wingstrong, you pathetic worm. You are nothing to me, and soon shall be another meal for the Slayer of Kings!” Archaon replied, placing his shield in front of him. “If you wish to be a warrior I can remember, then prove yourself to me! I shall slaughter you regardless, but perhaps you may fight well enough!”

“As you wish, Destroyer!” Quick Slash growled, leaping towards Archaon, his speed unusual for a creature of his mass. The Everchosen leapt to the side, bringing the Slayer of Kings forward in a sideways slash. The Daemon moved to the side in an attempt to dodge, but not far enough, as the tip of the flaming blade cut across his skin, drawing out his blackened blood as the daemonic flames scorched the skin around it, making Quick Slash howl in pain as he leapt back.

“The Slayer of Kings finds your blood distasteful, daemon.” Archaon growled, the black blood on his sword burning up in the flames that surrounded it. “This means you are not a true Daemon, nor a Daemon Prince...meaning you are nothing to me in the slightest.” He pointed the Slayer of Kings at Quick Slash. “Come, hurry up and face your end, so the Slayer of Kings does not have to taste your foul blood any further!”

Quick Slash roared angrily, the blade-wings on his back stretching out. He leapt up into the air, attempting to bring his mass down upon the Everchosen, his claws and blades ready to tear through Archaon’s armor to get at his flesh below.

The Everchosen spread out his arms, roaring out an ancient incantation. A moment later, a large ball of fire erupted between the two combatants, screaming as it flew towards Quick Slash. The Daemon, unable to stop his descent, took the ball head on, scorching his skin and burning patches of flesh away, revealing blackened wood in place of bones. Archaon leapt out of the way of the burning daemon’s fall, watching with satisfaction as the beast crashed to the ground, smoke curling off his blackened hide.

Before it could rise again, Archaon rushed forward, plunging his blade deep into Quick Slash’s side, the flames licking across the blade catching his wooden bones alight.

“You are pathetic and weak, barely worth my notice.” Archaon growled, pulling his sword out as he stepped towards the beast’s head. “And yet, you dared to challenge me? You are a toddler attempting to rise to adulthood, no matter how futile your mission is.” The creature roared, standing up and towering over the Everchosen, spraying him with it’s blood and saliva. “Now, die, and see how your Protector abandons you!” Archaon roared, his blade cutting clean through Quick Slash’s neck, the mutated griffin’s head falling to the floor, followed soon by the rest of his body.

The silence in the courtyard was absolute, as every griffin stared in horror at the corpse of their Champion. Soon, however, the silence was broken by the sound of hundreds of metal boots clanking across the bridge, signaling the approach of Archaon’s army.

“Children of the Griffish Isle, the enemy is at our door!” The voice of Mazarish slithered around the courtyard, reaching the ears of every griffin. “Stop them, before they can enter! I shall deal with the Destroyer myself!”

The guards seemed to snap into motion, rushing to the gates to attempt to fight off the approaching tide. Archaon stood in the center of the courtyard, his eyes catching sight of the Daemon that had tricked the griffins into serving her. She seemed to be taunting him, motioning for him to follow, before floating further into the palace.

Archaon growled with rage, smashing aside a griffin that had attempted to fly around him, breaking the guard’s bones as he fell to the floor, dead, his ribcage having pierced his heart.

“If you wish to die by my hand, vermin, then I shall send you back to your masters in pieces!” Archaon roared, chasing after Mazarish. He soon found himself in a large, cathedral-like chamber, overrun with large tree roots covering the walls and floor.

“I suppose I should thank you, Everchosen Archaon…” Mazarish’s voice purred, coming from all directions. “Were it not for your invasion, my arrival in this realm would not have occurred for another few centuries. You have aided my rise in this land, so I suppose you deserve a reward…” The figure of the Daemon appeared on the other side of the chamber, her hand extended towards the Everchosen. “Bow before me, and pledge your loyalty to me, and I shall grant you powers beyond that which you already possess…”

The Everchosen’s reply was a massive fireball, screaming towards Mazarish and burning away the roots it passed over. She vanished into the ground, letting the flames impact the wall behind her, before reforming where she had stood.

“Do you really think I, Archaon, The Everchosen of Chaos, would ever serve a pathetic Daemon, sworn to no God of it’s own?!” Archaon roared, The Slayer of Kings blazing in tune with the Everchosen’s rage. “You are a fool to think as such! For your insolence, I shall tear you apart, presenting the pieces to whatever will be left of your followers before I use you as food for my warriors!”

“A shame, Archaon. You would have been better off serving me…” Mazarish sighed. “Of course, it's not like you are the true Archaon…”

The Everchosen roared with fury, charging forwards to make good on his words. Massive roots sprung from the floor to either impede or attack the armored Everchosen, but they were cut apart by The Slayer of Kings, and any roots that did reach Archaon merely pushed him back, finding no purchase in the Armor of Morkar. As he drew close, Mazarish suddenly let loose a surge of Chaos Magic, the power of the Realm of Chaos made manifest as black spikes made out of an unknown material shot towards Archaon, impaling the Everchosen’s arm as they stabbed into the less defended joints of the armor. Archaon roared in pain, the power concealed within the spikes blazing across his arm, filling him with agonizing pain. Mazarish chuckled maliciously, slamming a root across Archaon’s chest, throwing him back to the other side of the Cathedral.

Archaon soon stood back up, his arm hanging weakly at his side. Growling, he tossed away his shield, switching The Slayer of Kings to his other hand.

“Oh please, Archaon, you have no chance of defeating me.” Mazarish sighed, watching with pity as the Everchosen pulled out the spikes. “Every soul that dies on the Isle goes straight to me, filling me with more power. Your warriors have been giving me a fine feast.”

Archaon growled, his mind trying to find a way to defeat the Daemon. The Slayer of Kings roared in his hand, the Daemon U’zuhl’s rage flowing across Archaon. The Everchosen heard it’s whispers in his mind, offering its power to destroy Mazarish.

Archaon knew the risks of unleashing such a Daemon, but he weighed his options, and found he had no choice. As Mazarish had said, she was gaining more power the more soldiers died, and would soon be able to outmatch the Everchosen. She controlled the area, and Archaon wouldn't be able to win. Rising to his feet, the Everchosen accepted U’zhul’s offer. Rage and power flowed through his blackened veins, unnatural energies burning away all thoughts, except for slaughtering his foes.

Mazarish winced from the unleashed energies, moving back slightly as Archaon channeled the fury of U’zhul the Skulltaker, the greatest of Khorne’s chosen Bloodletters. His damaged arm rose, fully healed as Archaon returned the Slayer of Kings to it, his shield returning to his side. The fiery blade blazing hotter than the lava in the planet’s core. The flames spread across Archaon’s body, burning away the roots within five feet of the enraged Everchosen.

“Impossible…” Mazarish breathed, before Archaon rushed forward, destroying everything that rose between him and Mazarish. The Daemon summoned a sword, hoping to defend herself, but Archaon’s blade smashed it away, before plunging into her chest.

“Blood for the Blood God!” Archaon roared, his blade ripping its way up her chest, freeing itself after cutting through her head. Blackened blood burst from her head, oozing onto the ground. The Daemon reformed itself, roots extending from the two sides to pull them back together.

“I shall not be defeated by you!” She screeched, sending thousands of needles to break upon Archaon’s armor, or burned away by the flames covering the Everchosen. Those flames expanded, taking on the form of a Bloodthirster, though not as large. The flames on the Slayer of Kings expanded on the end, appearing more like that of an axe.

Archaon swung his sword again, the axe blade made of fire cutting away at her limbs, setting them on fire as it did, keeping her wounds from healing as he cut her to pieces.

“N...no….” Mazarish gargled, her throat filling with blood. The Slayer of Kings swung for a final time, separating her head from her neck. The remains of her body turned to dust, dispersing to the winds as Archaon’s flames receded, returning to the Slayer of Kings. Before Archaon could utter a word, he collapsed to the ground, every fiber of his being screaming in pain as the backlash of using the power of the Slayer of Kings ripped through his body. He felt as though flames continued to wrap around his body inside the Armor of Morkar, burning his skin and inflicting unending agony upon the Everchosen.

The Everchosen’s cry of pain cracked the ground and shattered the windows of the entire city, causing what was left of the Griffin populace drop to their hind legs, clutching their bleeding ears in pain, the noise shaking them to their very souls, and even destroying the weaker ones, causing the Griffins to drop to the ground, empty eyes staring endlessly into the distance. Archaon’s forces, the horribly mutated creatures, were merely staggered, their will power far stronger than that of the griffins.

Eventually, the roars of agony subsided from the Everchosen, the flames of his agony slowly fading away, back into the Slayer of Kings. Archaon stood, finding several of his Chosen surrounding him. Some of them wielded swords, their great weapons lost in the battle. The leader of them stepped forward, observing the scene before him.

“Everchosen…Archaon…” The Chosen growled, his helmet masking his features. “You vanquished the Daemon?”

“Did...you doubt...my prowess...worm?!” Archaon growled, staggering to his feet. His grip on the Slayer of Kings tightened when he noticed the other Chosen stepping closer.

“No, my lord.” The Chosen Leader spat, his own grip around his Great Axe strengthening. “It appears, however, that you are weak. I think it is time for a new Everchosen!” He charged forward, his great axe cutting through the air, racing towards Archaon’s head.

The Everchosen moved to the side, the axe blade scraping against his left shoulderpad, the Slayer of Kings finding it’s place through the Chosen’s chestplate. Archaon gave a shallow breath, glaring with exhausted rage at the Leader of the Chosen.

“You...dare...raise your blades against me?!” He growled, twisting the blade and ripping it out through his side, sending the dying warrior tumbling to the ground. The other Chosen rushed forward, weapons raised in unison to kill their former master. Archaon bashed his shield into one of them, sending him reeling as he narrowly ducked under a swipe from one of the Chosen’s greatswords, his blade rushing into that warrior’s pelvis, eliciting a cry of pain as the Everchosen twisted the blade, bringing it out through the Chosen’s head and brought the flaming blade behind him, blocking an attempted slash into his backside.

Archaon felt a burst of pain as one Chosen scored a lucky strike, their blade slicing through a weaker spot in his right leg armor. The Everchosen roared in pure rage as he shoved the Chosen behind him backwards with the Slayer of Kings, quickly turning around and, with a wide arc of his blade, cut through the Chosen’s neck, sending his head whistling into the air.

“I… am Everchosen!” Archaon gasped out, his blade cutting a Chosen’s Great Axe in two, using the bottom of his shield as a blunt weapon as it bashed against the Chosen’s helmet, leaving the warrior to fall to the floor, a large dent in his helmet giving proof to the fact that the blow had broken his skull and turned his brain into pulp.

The last of the Chosen backed up in fear as Archaon’s sword tore out of the backside of a warrior’s head, black blood splattering his armor as the Everchosen’s eyes fell upon his trembling form.

“Pl-please, Master Archaon!” The Chosen cried, falling to his knees as he feebly bowed before the Everchosen. “Th-the others threatened me with death unless I helped them betray you! I-I would never do so of my own free will! Forgive me!”

“How many others are part of this attempted coup?!” Archaon growled, kicking the Chosen in the gut.

“A-a cabal of your Sorcerers, m-my master! And several g-groups of your Chaos Warriors!” The Chosen replied, gasping as he clutched his gut.

“I see. You have given me what I require of you. You haven proven your true loyalty today.” Archaon replied, and the Chosen looked up at Archaon in awe.

“I-I have, master?” He asked, just before the Slayer of Kings stabbed through the top of his head, creating sparks as it dug into the stone floor beneath the now dead Chosen’s head.

“Yes, you worm. It is only to yourself.” Archaon growled, wiping the blood off of his helmet. “I detest a traitor, but I loathe a cowardly traitor who would abandon his fellows so easily!” The Everchosen clutched the shoulder that the first Chosen had hit, feeling that the brute force of the swing had managed to dislocate his shoulder.

“All who defy...the Everchosen...shall fall!” Archaon roared, stumbling towards the exit.

Author's Note

Sorry for the long wait! I got too hopped up on...a single story. And crossovers relating to that story.

Anyways, hope you all enjoyed! I think I'm getting better with these fight scenes!

Also, I think this will be the last chapter where Archaon uses bold for his speaking lines. The stupid Chaos Damned upload thing is still bugged with that.

Anyways, I look forward to some feedback, and look forward to writing the next chapter!

Chapter Eight: The Hunt Begins, Part I

Two Months Later

Archaon growled, his hands crushing the sides of the table underneath his enraged grip. ”The bastard traitors are most likely hiding in this area, near Griffinstone. I demand that you send several scouting hosts to identify what forces they have left. Once they report back, we shall send in the full might of our Legion and crush them!” The Everchosen pointed at the mountain that held the Griffin Capital on the map before him, spread out along the wooden table.

The new Chosen Leader standing before Archaon whimpered slightly, the creature that had once been a Griffin made a Chosen by Archaon after the attempted assassination. “My Lord, we do not have enough forces to investigate this site. You have our Scouts spread out across the rest of the Griffin Kingdom, and they are still struggling with their recruiting missions.” The Chosen gulped at his master’s glare. “Th-the Griffon’s seem to be resistant to the temptation of serving the Dark Gods, and we have been losing forces more quickly than we have been gaining them. These creatures are clearly stronger than the ponies of Equestria, and we would need to muster a full War Host if we wanted to gain more converts, likely with you leading them, and-”

”Enough of your excuses, you insignificant worm!” Archaon growled, interrupting the Chosen as he slammed his fist into the table, breaking it in two. ”I refuse to let these traitorous vermin, who dare to defy my right to bring about the End Times, live any longer! If we cannot muster a scout host, then we will simply march to Griffonstone, and slaughter everything in our path!”

“O-of course, my lord,” The Chosen replied, shifting on his new legs, covered in armor. “I shall muster the Legion in but a moment.” He began walking towards the exit of the tent.

”Also, Chosen, what name do you use? It would be irritating to call my Chosen simply that.” Archaon asked, causing the Chosen Leader to stutter with surprise.

“U-um, my name is T-Talius Mortarus, my lord.” The Chosen Leader stated quickly, before exiting the tent. Archaon considered the name, before growling as he returned to the broken table and map. To think, these traitors had led them on a chase for two months now… the very notion of it infuriated the Everchosen, and with but a thought, the table burned as he stalked out of the tent.

The Void

The being known as Ahriman sighed, looking over the current progress of his latest creation.

“Nothing in the world before my coming could possibly stand up against Archaon. He is simply too powerful for mere ponies and Griffons.” The Void Dweller muttered, running the factors through his mind. “If I want him to truly be an Everchosen, I need to create something that would truly test his skills…” He turned to consider his options. “A simple hero would be too much trouble, and would likely disrupt the current timeline far too much for my liking. No, whatever I challenge him with, it cannot be human. No, I need something with simple, basic commands. Something easily manipulated…” Ahriman’s gaze lingered on one of the many endless possibilities. Following it's source, the Void Dweller found a game. A game of four hunters and a beast. A metaphorical grin spread across his face.

“I need… a monster.”

Three Days Later, near Griffinstone

“My lord, the probing forces found what appears to be a massive subterranean cave system beneath the mountain. They also noted a number of tracks, which are not of equine or griffon origin, leading into the cave. We believe the traitors have hidden themselves inside the cave system, possibly to prepare to take Griffonstone. What would you have us do, my lord?”

”These fools think that this cave will save them? Ignorant fools! They have cornered themselves, and we shall hunt them down and slaughter them all!” Archaon roared, and the army behind him cheered in reply. The Traitors had left Archaon’s horde a shattered mess, but the remaining Warriors were still more than capable of slaughtering hundreds before they fell. The Everchosen held his hand in the air, and the cries for blood silenced. ”We shall enter the cave system, and kill everything inside! Hunt down these Traitors, and bring the wrath of Khorne down upon them! Charge!”

The Everchosen drew the Slayer of Kings, before rushing into the cave, followed by his ten Chosen. The rest of the army followed soon after, the mutated ponies and griffons baying for the blood of traitors.

Deep within the shadowy embrace of the caves beneath Griffonstone, something stirred once again. The cries of Archaon’s horde echoed through the cavern, though the distance had turned the fierce and terrifying cries of pure rage into a soft whisper of things to come.

It was these whispers that had acquired the attention of the denizens of the cave.

The unnatural creature shifted, uncurling from its resting spot and pushing aside the remains of the traitors that Archaon sought, their corpses making for a simple meal for the beast. It's eyeless head lifted itself up, sniffing the cool air of the cavern as its upper arms, which ended in meter-long, scythe-like talons, dug into the rocky surface of the cavern floor. It's other arms, which ended in four black, blade-like fingers, contrasting with its grey, leathery skin as it hissed.

The creature’s back curled downward, stretching the large spines on it’s back as it moved, hovering slightly off the ground as several tendril-like appendages dragged along the cavern floor.

It didn't know why it was here, or why it defended the altar in the back of the cavern, which bore a small, eternally burning eight-pointed star, which had been the only source of light in its home. All it knew was that there were new intruders in it’s home, and new meals to feast upon.

Several of Archaon’s forces moved deeper into the cave. After the army had encountered a three-way split into the cave, Archaon had ordered that the Horde would be divided into three, so the traitors wouldn't have an escape route. These mutated creatures were a vanguard for one of said divisions, and their lanterns lit their way further into the cave, disfigured hooves and talons clinking along the rough stone.

“You would think that Lord Archaon would have come up with a better plan than this.” One of the corrupted ponies muttered, tightening his grip on the lantern in his claws, which extended outward from his hoof at odd angles, bony joints cracking with every move. “I mean, we are pretty much charging in blindly, splitting up our forces, and hoping for the best.”

“Lord Archaon is angry that those traitors have eluded us for so long. They’ve put his plans on hold, for the most part.” The second of the group, a mutilated and bright purple Pegasus replied, his toothy jaw creaking audibly. “But he is right in hunting them down. Letting even one of those bastards escape to acquire a new army would be a massive mistake, and could cost us dearly.”

“And what even are Lord Archaon's plans? All we have been doing is marching across the lands, burning everything in our way for trinkets and armor for the Everchosen. I've been part of his Horde for a while, and I've seen nothing but personal glory for him.” The first spoke again, and the third growled.

“That sounds dangerously like traitor-speak, pony.” The Griffin growled, his claws scratching against the sword he held in his bloodied claws. “Lord Archaon gave us all the blessings of the Dark Gods, and I'll cut down all who speak ill of his name.” The pony back away slightly, eyes frightful. “He is the Bringer of the End Times, as he has promised. But to bring the End Times of the entire world, not only must one be powerful on their own, they must have a mighty army behind their blade, an unstoppable force of Chaos and destruction.”

“Seems like someone believes in the cause.” The pegasus joked. “Are you saying that these crusades throughout the lands, searching for these artifacts, is him culling our weak?”

“Yes.” The Griffin nodded, relaxing slightly. “All who died were not fit to serve under Lord Archaon. Only those who survive can truly be one of those chosen who bring the End Times behind Lord Archaon!” His voice echoed throughout the tunnel, and unbeknownst to the group, bounced off something not native to the cave.

“Anyways, we should report back to the group pretty soon. Which one of you will-” The first mutated pony paused as his clawed hoof stepped on something softer and squishy than hard stone, with the sound of bones breaking underneath his mass. He lifted his hoof and backed away, letting the lantern illuminate whatever he stepped on.

Bright red flesh greeted his eyes, disfigured and blackened bones tearing through the bloody gore as a empty skull stared into his eyes, its bloodied jaws seeming to scream in silent agony. Pools of blood surrounded the remains, and the group discovered that the pools surrounded similar sights. The Griffin picked up a scrap of torn armor, and was mildly surprised to find the mark of Chaos etched into the metal.

“These… these are the traitors we are looking for.” He muttered, dropping the scrap, which met the ground with an audible clang. “We need to get back to the group right now!”

“But why? Just because something killed the traitors for us? Perhaps they turned on one another and killed themselves for us?” The Pegasus asked, shrugging.

“You ignorant fool!” The Griffin hissed, grabbing him by his fleshy neck. “Not even the traitors can do something like this!” He pointed to the remains of the traitors. “There is something down here that can slaughter an army. And we are walking right into its jaws!”

Before the group could move an inch, a massive creature chose this time to strike. It leapt out of the shadows, pale light flowing behind it as it hissed, it’s massive blade-like appendages grabbing the first pony before they could blink. And when they did blink, it was gone, as was the pony in its grip, the only proof of their existence being the fading light of its passage, and the cries of the pony in it’s clutches.

“By the Skull Throne!” The Griffin yelped in surprise, before turning around and fleeing the way they came, wings propelling his escape. “Run! We must reach the group! We need to warn them!”

“But what about-” the Pegasus started, but upon hearing the sounds of the pony’s screams get cut off with a sickening sound of a body being cut in half, he soon found himself flying right behind the Griffin. The horrific screech of whatever was behind them reached his ears, and he could hear some sort of slithering noise behind them.

Archaon’s detachment

The Everchosen paused, waving his shield to signal for his force to stop. The corrupted warriors paused in their march, letting the faint echoes of a creature screeching reach Archaon’s superhuman ears.

”It would appear as if our scouts from another detachment have discovered something.” Archaon growled, unsheathing the Slayer of Kings. ”We continue, but slowly! The Traitors may yet have a few surprises for us, and we shall not be lead into a trap!” The warriors behind him cheered, their cries echoing loudly throughout the entire cave system. Before the group continued, Archaon paused. He felt…something almost calling to him, deeper in the cave. He moved forward, eyes blazing with a fiery light.

The creature paused in its chase, its spines flicking up into the air as the echoes of Archaon’s detachment met its ears. It hissed, turning towards the fleeing Griffin and Pegasus it had been chasing, before growling and breaking off, its attention required elsewhere. It must defend the burning stone. Nothing else matters.

Author's Note

Another chapter complete! Sorry it took so long, I have been busy as of late!

I had been kinda wanting to write more, but I felt that this was a good stopping point. I hope you all enjoyed, and I will see you all in the next chapter!

(The creature is the Wraith from Evolve, if no one got that. I was inspired to do something like this after reading a neat Wraith Displaced fic, and so yeah.)

Chapter Nine: The Hunt Ends, and the Slaughter continues

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