At first, things had been dull. After the initial assault by the first large group of mutants, everything seemed to just stop. He had marshalled his forces, found a base to work out of, and even worked with his generals to devise a plan of attack. The more time passed, though, the longer they were without an enemy to battle. When there was no battle, the daemons got anxious, and anxious daemons made terrible company.

The Warrior and his forces were not content unless their blades and fangs were sinking into mortal flesh. By contrast, the Sorcerer and his minions were perfectly fine just sitting and waiting for their plans to unfold. That is, until the stillness eroded their calm in favor of a craving for change. It wasn't long before the two groups started bickering and fighting with each other.

Luckily, the infighting didn't last long enough to come to more than a few light blows. Unfortunately, what interrupted it was a far greater concern. As the Sorcerer had predicted, the walls between the materium and the warp had been weakened too much by the entrance of the other daemons. The calm of the area was suddenly, and violently, interrupted.

Out of a tear in reality emerged an insurgence of shrieking daemonettes. Brandishing their large claws, they charged forward, eager to engage any possible enemy. Urgrugg's own daemonic forces, as starved for battle as they had been, were only too ready to meet the Slannesian forces halfway. The Warrior and his riders smashed into the wall of screeching daemonettes, while the hounds came at them from the flank. True to plan, the shriekers flew over the enemy, turning to harass them from the rear. The flamers followed behind, throwing dancing, blue flames into the rift to prevent more forces from immediately engaging.

By this point, Urgrugg had lost all control of anything happening in the battle. Even the Sorcerer, usually willing to at least accept the ork's aid, had begun working towards his own goal. Ordering his horrors to channel their power into him, he had begun a complex and powerful ritual. It would take time to complete, but its effects were immediately apparent. The hole into the warp was already beginning to close, though slowly.

Then, just as the battle seemed to be turning in their favor, Urgrugg turned, hearing something coming from above. It sounded like something tapping on metal, then several somethings. Suddenly, more of the mutants came jumping out of the huge piles of scrap. Apparently, the had hidden some entrances into the large room inside of the wreckage. Whether it was natural, or created for this purpose, he would never know, and did not care to find out. As the mutants fell onto his daemon allies from the rear, the ork knew it was only a matter of time before the three forces destroyed each other.

With little choice left, enemies surrounding him to all sides, Urgrugg once more reached for his power. Deep inside himself, he took from hidden reserves, stores of energy he called upon only during the most desperate times. Tapping this power, he grabbed for a spell he had not used in a long time, a means of escape not taught to him, but instead that he had inherited by birth as an ork shaman. Letting out a fierce battle cry, he began running towards the horde of battle before him. At the last moment, he leapt into the air, and unleashed the spell.

Suddenly, he was passing through the warp. Unsure of where he would end up, he could only hope his arrival back to the materium was a safe one. Finishing the spell, he forced himself back into the real world. His entrance was not as bad as it could have been, but it was far from perfect. Most notably, his entrance had caused some kind of disruption in the warp, some part of the process forcing the warp and the materium to try and align in a way they were not meant to.

The forced alignment had a powerful result. It sent the power of the warp bursting from the area, the original blast wave leaving dents in the metal walls around him. Worse, though, all the warp energy present within nearly ten yards of him had been shunted away, leaving the ork in the equivalent of a null-field, at least for a few minutes. It left him vulnerable, though, if only for a short time.

Though it took him about ten seconds to register it, something else had gone wrong. Letting out a loud, bellowing roar of a scream, Urgrugg realized what the forced alignment had allowed. His wrist had entered the warp in the same space as a sheet of inch-thick adamantium. The process had effectively welded the two together, leaving the ork basically attached to the chunk of scrap metal by his arm.

Finally, there was one other, very unexpected, result. He had entered near something, some sort of creature. Whatever it was, he could tell it was a psyker. Mostly because it had been using some kind of spell to move around, and the sudden presence of what was basically a null-field had snuffed said spell. Whatever it was, Urgrugg had never seen one before, and being an ork, that gave him a powerful urge to attack.

Even as he turned to swing his weapon, though, he realized it had been in the wrong hand. His staff was on the other side of the large sheet of metal, tightly grasped in his off hand. That was not ideal, but in any event, one thing needed to be done. With another loud roar, this time in anger, he summoned his orkish strength and slammed his taloned finger tips down on his wrist. Tearing through the flesh and smashing the bone, he freed himself, though with a bloody stump for a hand to show for it. Turning to face the strange being, he held his forearm tightly, doing his best to stop the flow of blood as he waited for whatever it was to act.