War writer in blood

Black Rock

The sound of drums echoed into the distance, as boots marched through the scorched terrain, shields on there backs swords in their sheaths, war band 'blood axe' had grown tired of marching, surrounded by a foul odour, a musk of burned flesh and rotting corpses, Fallen brothers littered all over the battlefields, Brocken war machines dotted around the fields, a single siege beast lay slain, spears and arrows protruding out of its black scaly hide, wings stiff and cold as ice, eyes white as snow, teeth sharper than steel, a terror  to behold in battle, the only creature that could match a mountain golem, also the only creature that could cripple entire armies where dragons, some are giant creatures that can become an unstoppable force, others are old and lazy beasts that have no wish to fight, but mountain golems are forged in the the hottest forges in the skies, and made from the souls of heroic champions, armed with giant metal fists that are used to clobber or crush,

Hours later... the war band stops to make camp, crackling fires surrounding tents made of red leather held up from wood they'd scavenged from recked war machines, and beds made from bear hide, the sound of chatter and laughter grew louder with each passing second, blood axe consisted of 500 men and  beasts, a thundering sound engulfed  the space around them, unsure of where the sound originated from, the war chief ordered the archers to be armed, sentries set up all around the camp, torch light dancing in the darkness, licking the wood stacked on the fire, only the sentries stood awake, like statues they stood motionless waiting for an enemy to reveal themselves. A crack of thunder rumbled above them, shocking the earth with harsh intensity, as the troops piled out of their tents to investigate only to be met with figures of light raining down upon their camp, what appeared to be a man hit the ground with a flash of light, it was only naw they realised that these men had white feathered wings coated with thick golden armour, welding a large hammer of silver, and gold plated runes that were emanating with power, a blue glow surrounding the head of the hammer, the strange man stood up from a kneel and began to swing his hammer, humming with energy the hammer let blasts of lightning out on contact, decimating the ranks of the war band, blood curdling screams flowing through the air, many retreated from the camp, only those ranked as blood letters where brave enough to stay and fight, Gruk the war chief began to grow impatient with the attackers, in a rage he stormed towards the winged man with the hammer, Gruk razed his axe and brought it crashing down, splitting his   head in two, the attackers seemed to freeze with fear, and began to retreat. Commanding us to stop them Gruk had us use chains with meat hooks attached to the ends of them, the dug into their wings and calfs, we pulled most of them out of the skies and the came crashing down. Knowing their demise was near, the beings fought to their last breath, thought day had begun to break upon the blood soaked terrain, the sight could not be grimmer, ranks upon ranks of comrades lay dead on the charred rocks,