Valten Champion of Sigmar

Valten Champion of Sigmar
By: Edward Robins
This story was originally submitted to Mythic!

Black ash smoldered all around the grey wreckage of what was once a town. The only thing that broke the dull, miserable silence of this ghost town was the sound of two pairs of feet, marching through the burnt town. A young boy of no more then eighteen with long blonde hair and a muscular structure marched through the ruined town. And beside him was a warrior priest by the looks of him. Gleaming armor and a warhammer, a holy book and a shield hung by his side. The young boy stopped suddenly and started looking to the east, squinting to recognize the object behind the noise.

“What is it, Valten?” Said the warrior priest in a hushed voice.

“To the east.” Valten replied. “Chaos spawn in the form of beastmen, Brother Barnabas.” From the look on Barnabus’s face Valten judged that Barnabus could not see what he had seen. Valten undid his shirt a bit to reveal the famous birthmark on his chest. It was in the shape of the twin tailed comet of Sigmar. Barnaul saw the mark and was instantly aware of a sort of aura around Valten. A sort of mystical presence. As he thought on this he became aware of multiple footsteps coming from the east. Valten gave a smug smile and unslung his twin hammers. Barnabus quickly unslung his as well. Valten held one of his hammers up to the sky and what little light there was was concentrated into a beam so powerful that the approaching beastmen gave snorts of pain as the light was aimed at them.

“Leave none alive.” Valten said to Barnabus as he charged forward hammers at the ready. Barnabus quickly followed suit. Valten let out an almighty war cry before he made contact with the beast men. The beastmen: tall, black, fierce spawns of chaos stood their ground and drew their blood stained weapons. Valten’s hammer made contact with one of the beastmen’s skulls, and with an almighty crunch broke the beast’s head in half. Brother Barnabus charged in muttering a prayer to Sigmar. His hammer punched a hole into one of the beastmen’s chests and with a snort of pain it fell to the floor limp and lifeless.

Valten was powering through the chaos warband and soon found himself right in the heart of the chaos ranks. One after the other the beasts fell, and then Valten came upon the war chief: a much bigger, stronger, and more powerful beast than the rest. Without thinking, Valten charged at the beast, hammers swinging wildly in the air with such force that the other beasts backed away. Valten jumped and let fly with one of his hammers. There was an almighty crunch of bone and the war chief stumbled backwards, but appeared to be unscathed by the blow. Valten looked on in disbelief, and so again he charged, but this time the war chief swung his sword at the young warrior. Valten blocked the blow and there was a loud sound of clashing metal across the battle field. Valten and the war chief were locked in combat, blow after blow deflected by them both. Then, the unthinkable happened. Valten was struck across the head by the war chief’s sword. Blood gushed from the wound and it reduced Valten to his knees.

The war chief gave a snort of triumph and was about to deliver the final blow. As his sword came down Valten raised his hammer and blocked the blow with such force that it broke the war chief’s sword clean in half. Valten rose to his feet bruised and bloody and delivered blow after blow to the stunned war chief. Many blows later the war chief fell to the floor writhing in pain. Valten executed the final blow to the war chief and the beast was no more. The rest of the beastmen fled in terror, through the rush of beastmen Valten saw Brother Barnabus clutching his Warhammer and drenched in blood. Valten let out a sigh and slung up his warhammers. There were still a lot of beastmen out there, and Valten wouldn’t rest until they were all gone.