Wulfrik (Warhammer Novels)

Wulfrik (Warhammer Novels)

C. L. Werner

Language: English

Pages: 416

ISBN: 184416893X

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Emerging from the mists, Wulfrik the Wanderer brings destruction and death everywhere he treads. Cursed by the Ruinous Powers, the champion must seek prizes to appease the forces of Chaos. His unholy quest takes him to distant lands and pits him against foes no mortal man could defeat, but his blade is inescapable and his determination unrelenting. With the gift of tongues, he challenges any who stand in his way, an invitation to battle that cannot be refused. But now dark forces plot against Wulfrik, and he must discover the enemy within or else his soul will be lost to the Dark Gods forever.

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to me. It is within my power to break the doom the gods have placed upon you.’ ‘Then do so,’ Wulfrik snarled impatiently. He did not believe the Kurgan’s claims, but he could not quell the stirrings of hope rising within him. The shaman spread his hands in a helpless gesture. ‘It is not so easy. There are things I must have to perform the ritual that will free you. Things, I fear, only you can provide me.’ ‘He’s trying to play you for a fool,’ Sigvatr warned Wulfrik. ‘He wants you to steal

Njarvord threw himself into the gap, laying about him with his blade. Broendulf rushed to the berserker’s side, guarding him with his shield as the hairy Baersonling hacked down his enemies. The craven hobgoblins, horrified by the bloodthirsty madness of the berserker, quailed before the assault. Savagely they kicked and slapped their bestial steeds, cursing and pleading with them to break off the attack. Suddenly the night was banished by a brilliant, flaming light. Wolves yelped in pain and

sputtered out and it became still. Wulfrik glared at the weird weapon, then at the towers above the causeway. He could see the dwarfs feeding more of the strange rockets into their artillery. ‘Kurgan!’ Wulfrik shouted. He raged across the courtyard, looking for the shaman. He smiled grimly when he saw Tjorvi leading Zarnath through the shattered gates. ‘I need your magic again!’ Wulfrik snarled at the shaman. He pointed his bloody sword at the distant towers. ‘Stop them before they shoot at us

it into dust. He was raising his sword to chop at stone ankles before he realised what he was doing. Angrily, Wulfrik lifted his sword high and shouted at his men. There was some subtle sorcery woven into the statues, some insidious magic that antagonised any who trespassed within their influence. The statues protected the ziggurat by provoking fear in the minds of their enemies. Lesser men would have fled screaming from the stronghold. Norscans were made of sterner stuff. Instead of running,

the room. The hero watched him go, laughing at the man’s back. ‘I’ve watched ratkin retreat with more dignity,’ he laughed. Wulfrik turned as he heard Hjordis come up behind him. He felt a sting of pain as he saw the anguish on the woman’s face, the fright in her eyes. ‘He will try to kill you, whatever my father says,’ Hjordis warned. She could feel Wulfrik wince as she laid her hands on his shoulders. ‘Don’t trust them. Either of them.’ ‘I am not such a fool,’ Wulfrik said. He shrugged from

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