Hellhound Warhammer Novels & Stories

There was also a very strong possibility that said piece of panel had a few rusty nails sticking out of it, so a tetanus shot might be in order after this assignment was complete. After a quick evaluation of her injuries, she concluded that it was just a scratch and there was nothing more she could do right now, but was highly away, however, that it had caused her to bleed so it was very likely that the wolf now knew she was here. The wolf they were here to get was a rogue that had recently moved into the area been sighted prowling and had reportedly already killed two people. Rogues were much different to wolves from a pack, and though Slayers still didn't like them, at least a pack wolf ha

"Do you remember Hexia wanted a pet from here because all the other animals in the Demon World aren't of her taste?" Saye rubs her chin. "I remember her whining to Shazar whenever he visited the human realm, and he came back with a weak animal. Hexia took the animal in her care and raised it." Then she gasped and grabbed her twin by the shirt. "You don't think it's...." "That monster is still alive." "Oh fucking great!" Saye shoved her twin and waved her hand. I took a step forward. "What's going on?" "The thing that attacked the human is no Hellhound," Arlo starts to explain as they solve the problem of the mystery. "All the Hellhounds are under Big Brother Jippies' command as they treat hi

I’d started to move toward Jack, thinking I could divide the scorpion’s attention while our warlock and shaman backup caught up to us, but Ian started shouting, and I spun to get a look at what the fuck was going on over there. “Nate, Arik, get your asses over here!” Ian stood about twenty feet away, half-screened by more trees, but my supernatural vision compensated. What the fuck turned out to be two more scorpions—only they were ignoring Ian completely, probably because he was part of the pack, and advancing in a pincer sort of formation on…Hendler, who stood frozen in what looked like abject terror between a huge fallen pine and a boulder. “Screw him!” I shouted back. “Get them to call o

He handed the small liquid bottle over to the hooded man. The hooded man gripped the bottle tightly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of desperation and malice. "Are you sure this will make him go all out?" he whispered fiercely, staring at the clear fluid. "This is our absolute last chance. We need to bring him down tomorrow. I am not letting him take that cup from us."

Leading the charge was a hulking Vanguard General carrying a dark-silver warhammer that hummed with anti-mana energy. "Kill the villains!" roared the General, his voice booming out of his iron helmet. The Primarch offers ten thousand gold pieces for the head of the Sun Queen! In an instant the courtyard turned into a bloody chaotic battlefield. Claws met black silver, shadow magic battled anti-mana fields, and the desperate roars of shifters bounced off the high granite walls.

From the black mire, things began to climb. Not wolves. Not beasts we knew. Things born in the crushing dark before the sun ever rose — colossal, scaled, circular jaws lined with rows of shark teeth, blind writhing tentacles sprouting from their ridged backs. They were the Spawn of the Black Tide — the hounds of the Forgotten Gods. Sensing my aura, they howled in unison — a scream of a thousand drowning voices — and my warhorses reared in terror. “FOR THE NEST! FOR THE EMPIRE!” I bellowed — and let the silver take me.

“It’s not mine.” “I know.” His jaw tightened. The dead wolf’s scent finally hit me full-force—iron and moonlight and severed bond. My stomach lurched violently. I stumbled back, only to be caught by Ronan’s grip on my arm. I yanked away instinctively. “Don’t touch me!” I shouted. The words echoed, sharp and raw. The hall erupted. “She dares—” “She murdered a Blackthorn warrior!” “The Council will demand blood!” I spun, panic clawing at my chest as voices crashed over me.

But they had to hurry- it wouldn't take them long to figure out what or rather who was under the hood. The person in the center took one last look at the retreating figures of the werewolves and breathed a sigh of relief. It had been easy to distract the hycwens with a sudden appearance, yet the hycwens were a notorious breed known for their bloodlust, though they were a bit dim-witted. 20 feet above the ground, the hycwens' mouths continued to bicker, "Is it dead? I wanted to play with it a bit.." The person whirled around and stood on their feet in one swift move, discarding the hood.

With a grim determination, they raised their hands, their bodies beginning to glow with a soft, ethereal light. The first wave of creatures charged, their movements jerky and erratic. Liam unleashed a burst of arcane energy, a shimmering blue wave that swept through the oncoming horde, disintegrating several in an instant. Xal'dar, his eyes burning with a cold fury, met the remaining creatures with a flurry of blows, his fists crackling with a faint blue light. The battle raged, a chaotic ballet of life and death. The forest floor was soon littered with fallen creatures, their corrupted forms a stark contrast to the vibrant greenery. But the horde seemed endless, new creatures emerging from

Silence pressed between us for an instant then howling broke it. Not a wolf's howl but something twisted and something wrong. Warriors stood frozen. Shadows shimmered at Lucian's toes, restless. My wolf burst against my fur, claws shredding to get out. "They're here" I said to him, low. The forest erupted. Shapes dropped from the tree line—giant beasts with eyes glowing and jaws too wide, too toothed and to belong to this world. Morgana's hounds were flesh warped by darkness and muscle bound up in sorcery as they rushed forward but their trajectory was purposeful and straight for us.