Once upon a time, there was a steadfast Castellan of the dread Infernal Guard. Hardened was he by war, and by years of warcraft had he become wise, strong and unfaltering. One day, the Infernal Castellan led the Guard on a distant battlefield against a coalition of Night Goblin tribes, when suddenly there burst a whirling Fanatic from out of the Greenskin ranks.
His underlings stepped aside from the Night Goblin Fanatic's most likely trajectory, yet their leader stood his ground, unflinching and hard-bitten.
"Cowards! I spit on you! Hold your positions!" yelled the Infernal Castellan to his warriors.
Moments later, the Night Goblin Fanatic's heavy iron ball crashed into the Infernal Castellan with such force his Blackshard armour buckled and crushed his innards. The Night Goblin Fanatic sped on, leaving the Infernal Castellan dying slowly by haemorrage in a pathetic puddle on the ground. A Deathmask stepped up to his dying superior and remarked:
"It is neither brave nor devout to stand your ground needlessly in face of certain death, unless your master commands it."
- The Infernal Castellan and the Night Goblin Fanatic, by Despot Zhargonidus Doombeard, the renowned Chaos Dwarf author of fable stories, of our present time