Amador - More campaign fluff

Amador fought a battle against a Bretonnian army to take control of the Shrine that Gaizka had been defeated trying to capture from its then Skaven owners. Amador won the battle but was taken as a casualty when a unit of Grail Knights charged into the front of his warrior bodyguard and a unit of Knights Errant managed to clip the units rear with its overrun. The Warriors broke with Amador (despite the carnage that Amador unleashed in a challenge with the Knight Errant champion). Anyway, I wrote this short bit of fluff.

Amador cuffed one of the tribesmen aside furiously. His victory should have been glorious but it had been sullied and now he was raging. He’d returned to the shrine that had seen Gaizka’s defeat to find the ratmen had been routed by a band of Bretonnian Knights, and the witch that led them. During the course of the battle his bodyguard had been outmanoeuvred by the cavaliers and in the carnage that followed he’d been unhorsed. Not before taking the head of some young Knight who fancied himself a hero though. Amador had pulled himself from the dead to see his men cutting down the last of the Knights.
“Did we take any prisoners?” He demanded of no one in particular. A chieftain dared to face his lord’s anger.
“Just the witch,” he answered unsure if that news would be perceived as good or bad.
In an instant Amador’s demeanour changed, his anger cooling to an icy malice.
“Bring her to me,” Amador replied his voice little more than a whisper and he walked off towards the shrine.

The altar of the shrine was all that remained now, the stone that had protected it from the elements had been taken away, presumably by the ratmen. The marble slab was smooth except for a gold filled carving of Loesh the Serpent along its top. Some amongst the tribes knew Loesh as Shornaal and others as Slaanesh but they all paid homage to the same god, though they were servants of Elazar primarily.

Amador turned as two tribesmen approached, dragging a woman along the ground by her arms. The tribesmen wore fierce scowls. Clearly, it had been they who had captured her so in truth she belonged to them but they’d be fools to challenge Amador’s will here. They threw the woman down in front of Amador and turned to walk away. Amador stepped after them, drawing his sword as he did so. Their snub had been petty and subtle but Amador would not let it go unpunished. He’d behead one before either had noticed he followed them. The second spun low to avoid a swipe of Amador’s sword but was too slow to avoid the boot that connected with his face, shattering bone into his skull and killing him in an instant.

Amador turned is attention back to the Bretonnian witch who’d pulled herself up onto her arms but she was too battered and bruised to make it up onto her feet.
Amador circled around her and she stared up at him defiantly. Underneath the bruises and cuts she was probably quite attractive but her auburn hair was matted with blood and strewn with grass and she looked more like a wild creature.
Amador cruelly kicked her arms out from under her and the leering smile on his skull helm matched the one of his scarred face beneath.
“Chain her to my standard,” Amador ordered with a roar. “She will make a fine gift to Loesh!”

*

Amador leapt atop the altar, the standard had been raised there and the witch was chained to the circle and crescent cross. She’d been stripped of her clothing and her dignity but still she stared back at Amador with defiant eyes.
“Blessed Loesh, accept this witch as my gift to you!” he roared to the skies as he pulled a knife from his belt. “May her flesh and her soul sate your hunger!”
He dragged the blade across her neck cutting deep into the flesh and then stepped down from the altar. Her flowing blood quickly filled the recessed carving of the serpent upon the altar. Amador knew that with this offering, his army would be blessed in the battles to come.