[center][color=00CED1][h3]The Iceborn[/h3][/color][/center]

[hr]

There was no time to see the mystical flames race up the stick and consume his flesh, just as there was no time to see lightning before it struck. There was only agony.

Everything went dark and for a moment Sigdar was sure that he had died. He heard voices calling to him from beyond the physical world.

And then he was awake once more, and some sort of living lightning did strike him. Amidst the deluge he was beaten down onto the ground and hammered into something new, like a lump of molten iron as it was shaped into an axe. But when Sigdar rose back to his feet, he had been made into a weapon more deadly than any axe. He suddenly knew what to do.

With inhuman speed he raced through the forests, the wild storm proving to be not even the slightest hindrance. What trees he did not weave around were battered down as he charged back towards Dagshall, every leaping bound covering the distance of ten strides from a normal man.

When he arrived back at Dagshall, he wasn't even out of breath. This trial of his might had only just begun. He looked out across the muddied fields beyond the village's palisade and saw the monsters, just as he knew he would. He would not rest so long as a single one of the vile beasts drew breath, but how to kill them all?

He suddenly became cognizant of the great axe in his hand. He hadn't even realized that he had picked it up near the runestone, and in the time since then it had felt so natural in his grip that it may as well have been another arm. But now that he knew that he had the axe, the weapon would have its bloodlust sated.

With a roar the resonated like thunder, Sigdar First-Chosen leaped into battle. In a trance-like state, he fought with both a savage fury and an inhuman mastery of combat; combined with his gigantic stature, his foes were broken like earth beneath a till. He waded through their ranks and in his wake there was left nothing but gore and the shrieks of death.

[hr]

As the tribe's defenders formed their shieldwalls at the palisade gates and were met with the Deep Ones' wild charge, all hell broke loose. So deafening was the thunder and so hard the rain that it was difficult to even see, much less coordinate. But they all stood their ground shield to shield, striking at the monsters as they threw themselves at the shieldwall with suicidal abandon. The corpses of the fish-men began to fall into the muddy ground and pile up, but even then the waves of them did not relent. Through gaps in the shieldwalls shot briny swords and spears, and while they paid a great price in their own blood for every Iceborn warrior that they slayed, they were steadily breaking their enemies' morale and weakening the defense. It looked like it was only going to be a matter of time before Dagshall fell, assuming the ceaseless deluge didn't wash away the entire town before that.

But then there was deliverance. From out of the storm leaped a gigantic champion; though Dag had managed to recognize his son, with such poor visibility in the rain most men saw only Sigdar's gigantic stature and glowing eyes, so recognized him not as the chieftain's son but as Kjorn himself, their god of war. Perhaps their assessment was more accurate than Dag's.

But it hardly mattered. A wild cheer erupted when Sigdar leaped over the ramparts, landed amidst the horde of fishmen whilst crushing two or three beneath his feet, and then cleaved his way through their ranks. Despite being engulfed in the horde of monsters and surrounded on all sides, his rampage was unstoppable. Even through the rain they saw the shine of his great axe as it severed too many limbs to count. Perhaps it was just the wind and rain washing the weapon clean, but there was no blood that they could see upon Sigdar's axe; it was as if the weapon itself thirsted for blood and drank it all.

Sigdar waded through the ranks of fishmen, slowly making his way back towards the palisade. Suddenly aware of the enemy behind them, those Deep Ones locked in close combat with the Iceborn shieldwall began to fight even more savagely if such a thing was possible, desperately trying to break through the defenses and make it into the village before they were trapped between the shieldwall and Sigdar. But the Iceborn remained steadfast, and within moments Sigdar was there. With one great horizontal swing of his axe, he bisected a half dozen of the fishmen at the waist. Blood spattered into the air and rained down upon the awed Iceborn. Then Sigdar turned back around, roared with deafening power, and charged back into the fishmen's ranks. The Iceborn followed at his heels, and just like that the tides of battle had changed.

Where before the Iceborn were in a defensive position and slowly crumbling as their enemy endlessly pressed forward, now it was the Iceborn who were on the offensive as they sallied out of Dagshall's pallisade. Chaos broke out in the fishmen's ranks as those closest to the village saw the tides change and tried to flee, whilst others in the back of the fishmen's army still pressed forward. It quickly turned into a massacre with the Deep Ones being forced back to the shores.

[hider=Iceborn]
-Narration of the battle as Sigdar goes on a rampage.
-Let's say that the gilbins are all cowering in the longhalls because they aren't trusted and probably are less than eager to fight anyways.
[/hider]