WAR Fiction - A Fistful of Choppas: Chapter 3

<br><br><br><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://mythicmktg.fileburst.com/war/us/herald/images/community/choppaheader3.jpg" alt="" alignment="" style="" border="0" vspace="" hspace=""></div><br><br>Wait! Read <a href="http://herald.warhammeronline.com/warherald/NewsArticle.war?id=736">Chapter Two</a> first!<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The pounding of Ghurlak’s flat feet along the canyon floor sounded like the beat of a war-drum as the runty Orc came thundering down the mountain towards Bagrash Runtchucka’s cave. The choppas he’d looted after the fight with the stuntie war party felt good in his gnarled hands; Ghurlak slashed at the air as he ran, exulting at the hungry, whickering sound they made. He hacked at the scraggly trees growing from the canyon walls, just to feel the solid thunk of impact and hear the splintering of wood as the crude weapons sheared through trunk and limb. When the rock walls pressed close he swiped at them as well, striking arcs of orange sparks from the stone. By the time he reached the fire-lit cavern at the feet of Black Crag, the edges of the iron blades were jagged and bright.<br><br>

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