Gatehammer Fantasy Battles (Warhammer Fantasy Battles/Gate- Thus the JSDF Fought There)

The Southern Road to Alnus Hill

“We must go faster, we must go faster, we must go faster-” Yao chanted to herself as she loosed a series of arrows into the swarm of bats chasing them.

”We are going as fast as we can!” the normally stoic Lelei shouted as she steered the horses, “Those monster bats can fly faster than the horses can run though!”

Running alongside the wagon, and from the back of her horse, Tuka loosed one of her arrows, and hit a bat dead on.

“I’ve never seen bats like these before!” Tuka commented, “Why are they chasing you?”

“They have chased me for many days and nights!” Yao shouted back, “I promise that I shall speak more of it should we all survive this!”

A bat dived at Yao, who used her bow to hit it in the head and send it to the ground. She then reached for another arrow from her quiver, but grabbed only air.

“Damn, I’m out!” she cursed before once again using her bow as a bludgeoning tool.

“Do you know how to control a wagon?” Lelei asked over the screaming bats.

“Yes-” Yao started only for Lelei to cut her off.

“Then take the reins, I’ll use magic to hold them off until we can get to the Fort!”

“How long until we reach this fort?” Yao asked as she slid next to Lelei and took the reins from the young mage.

“We’re ten miles out from the fort, but there’s an outpost that guards this road half a mile through these hills, guarded by soldiers! If we make it there, they can help us fight!”

Lelei then picked up her staff from the back of the wagon, and raised it into the air; it began to glow with arcane power, and she closed her eyes and began to chant.

Then, eyes opening, she fired bolts of elemental magic from her staff’s crystal, knocking several bats out of the sky with each blast.

“Your magic is a great boon.” Yao stated as she held onto the reins for dear life, “You would not happen to have more potent spells that are capable of taking out the whole swarm though, do you?”

“I’m afraid not.” Lelei replied as he fired another magic bolt.

“I thought as much.”

===

Southern Outpost

“Sigmar dammit!” Klaus cursed as he watched the outcome of the dice, “Today is not my day.”

“It’s never your day when it comes to gambling.” One of his fellow soldiers replied mirthfully as he collected the money, “But you’re too stupid to stop; which is fortunate for me. Truly, these winnings prove that Sigmar smiles upon me.”

“Piss off Rutger.” Klaus grumbled.

Garrisoning the southern outpost, little more than two sentry towers on either side of the road, was not the most glorious of jobs in the Alnus March. Long hours of monotony, broken up by encounters with the locals, who for the most part were harmless. It was far more preferable than manning a fort in the beastmen infested woods of the Reikwald.

“I’ll be thanking you both to not take the Ur-Emperor’s name in vain.” The sergeant, a short, heavy set man with a long beard, snapped as he walked up to the two soldiers, who immediately stood to attention, “Bad enough that we’re in a land surrounded by heathens and mutants. DO I make myself clear?”

” Yes sergeant!” both Klaus and Rutger shouted simultaneously.

“You should both be glad that the Lector of Father Wilhelm were not here to hear you blaspheme. They’d-”

The sergeant’s next words were cut off as he looked at something behind the two soldiers. Klaus and Rutger looked at each other, and then behind them.

“Isn’t that the mage girl and the elf?” Klaus asked as he saw Lelei’s wagon and Tuka’s horse turn a corner and come racing down the road, “What in the name of Sigmar is their hurry?”

“Shut up!” the sergeant snapped, “What’s that noise?”

It was then that the soldiers saw the swarm of bats bearing down on the girls.

“Oh hell- everyone we’re under attack!” the sergeant shouted, and all the idle soldiers rushed to their positions, “Handgunners and crossbowmen, aim for the sky! Halberdiers, form ranks, and watch your heads! And for Sigmar’s sake, someone set the smoke signals and let the Fort know we’re about to be attacked!”

As the men formed ranks, the wagon and the horse came to abrupt stops in front of them.

“Mage!” the sergeant shouted as he walked up to Lelei, who standing in the wagon, “What did you bring upon our heads?”

“Not I; her.” Lelei responded in heavily accented Reikspiel, as she pointed to Yao, “These bats are chasing this dark elf.”

“A dark elf- never mind. Those aren’t natural bats.” He stated.

“Clearly, they are under the direction of a mage- “

“You don’t understand girl; I’ve done a tour in Sylvania.” He stated, “If I’m right, then those bats are under the control of something far worse than just a simple mage! You need to get back to Fort Griffon, and tell the Prince to send help! We’ve already set the smoke signal, but the Prince needs to know just what it is that we’re up against. We’ll hold them off for as long as we can!”

Lelei nodded uttered a few Saderan words to Yao, who nodded and snapped on the reins; the horses and wagon began to race towards Fort Griffon, Tuka close behind.

“Men of Reikland, steel yourselves!” the sergeant shouted, “We face unholy monsters this day! Keep your wits about you, or else we’re all as good as dead! These things can fly, but a well-aimed thrust can kill em easy! Handgunners and crossbowmen, pick your targets carefully! Halberdiers, don’t let yourselves get swarmed! Do all this, and mayhap we can survive until the Prince gets here with reinforcements! For SIgmar! For Reikland! For the Empire and for Karl Franz!”

A mere second after the men repeated the battle cries, the first of the bats swooped down upon them.

All the men were focused on fighting off the bats, unaware of the stealthy undead slipping through the chaos of the battle, chasing after the wagon.

===

Fort Griffon

“My Prince!” a Reiksguard Knight exclaimed as he barged into the room.

“What has happened?” Erhardt asked as he stood up from his dinner table. He had been dining with his closest advisors as well as Princess Pina; for a Reiksguard to disturb his meal meant that something urgent had occurred.

“The distress smoke from the southern outpost has been sighted. They’re under attack.”

“The we’ve no time to waste.” Erhardt stated, “Round up the pistoliers and the knights! We’ll need to reinforce them fast.”

“Prince Erhardt.” Pina said as she too stood up, “I request that I be allowed to accompany you.”

“The more the merrier.” Erhardt replied with a nod, “More people who know how to use a sword won’t hurt.”

“You are a diplomatic envoy from Sadera.” Natter, speaking Saderan with a heavy Reikspiel accent, pointed out as he rose from his seat, “Should anything happen to you, then this treaty will be dead in the womb.”

“With all due respect, Lector, that outcome is just as probable should your Prince fall in combat.” Pina said, “I will go with him to ensure that doesn’t happen, and to prove the commitment of Sadera for this treaty.”

Natter sighed, “Well then, Prince Erhardt, if that is the case then the Knights of the Ruby Cross and I will join you as well.”

“I thank you Lector. I look forward to seeing the Knights of the Ruby Cross in action.”

 

Southern Outpost

He watched as his bats swarmed the mortals; attacking with teeth and claws, the beating of their leathery wings mixing with the pitiful screams of men. Such beautiful music…

His name was Quintus, and for twenty-five long years, he was a servant of Elbe. His talents were overlooked by a foolish king, and all he could do was watch while others, wastes of human sperm, obtained the high offices and glories that were rightfully his! He was not the only one, oh no! Many in Elbe’s government were passed over by those less worthy, simply because their family lines were not as old or ‘prestigious.’

Then Lord Mannfred came… and he offered the gift of eternal life. All he asked for in return was their undying loyalty.

Prince Remus and a handful of others, Quintus included, took Mannfred’s offer, being immortal, and all powerful. With the absence and later the deaths of King Duran and his council at both Alnus and Italica, Remus took power, and the Elban vampires took their rightful places within the Elban government. What followed was the consolidation of their power, and the subversion of all who opposed them. Soon, Lord Mannfred would be poised to take control of the entire peninsula, and then, the continent, and each of the vampires had their parts to play.

Quintus’ role was to hunt down the dark elves who had escaped Remus. After days of searching all he could find was the one harlot; but she would lead him to the rest, making her capture his primary goal.

He was not expecting her to run into the Outlanders, nor for his bat swarm to fight them. This was a delay that he could not afford… but the smell of blood… that ruby red liquid… it was overpowering.

Reason was slowly slipping away for Quintus. He had to find the elf harlot, make her talk-

A bat had just sunk its fangs into a man’s neck, spraying blood into the air.

Quintus leapt off his horse and ran down the hill towards the battle, drawing his sword and letting loose a war cry. Faster than any human, he waded into the melee, decapitating a man with a single swing of his blade, before licking his blood-soaked sword.

“Yes!” he shouted to the heavens, “This is the ultimate pleasure!”

Cackling, Quintus threw himself into the battle, slashing and biting any who came close, whether they be human, or his own bats.

===

Southern Road - Five miles to Alnus Hill

“We have escaped them!” Yao shouted as she scanned the sky.

“It appears that the human soldiers are keeping the bats occupied.” Lelei observed as took back control of the reins, “Good for us; we only need to focus on getting back to the fort now- “

Two arrows flew from the darkness and embedded themselves in the skulls of the horses pulling the wagon, killing them instantly.

With no time to spare, Yao grabbed Lelei and leapt off the wagon before the death of the horses caused it to overturn and crash. The dark elf and mage rolled when they hit the ground, and Yao felt several of her ribs crack.

“Lelei!” Tuka shouted as she turned her horse around and raced back towards her fallen friend.

Yao let go of Lelei, and both women slowly stood up. Yao looked around, searching for the archer who killed the horses, and her eyes widened when she saw something run towards her, holding a blade in each hand.

Quickly, and ignoring the pain in her body, Yao drew her own sword just in time to parry her assailant’s strikes.

Yao looked at her opponent, and almost dropped her sword in shock; though his face was sunken in, she recognized that it was Kaon.

“How- “she started to ask before bringing up her sword to parry her undead opponent’s quick stab to her throat. With her injuries from the fall, it was a struggle for Yao to keep up with the undead’s strikes.

The undead Kaon pressed its attack, leaping forward with both blades outstretched, aimed for Yao’s heart and face. Lelei, who had finally shaken off the disorientation from the fall, chanted under her breath and let loose a fire spell, which hit Kaon’s left side, setting it alight and sending the thing to the ground.

“You seemed surprised when it attacked us.” Lelei observed as she walked over to Yao, “Why?”

“He was an old friend.” Yao said as she turned her back on Kaon’s burning corpse, “He died several weeks ago, -”

“Died?” Lelei asked, “You mean you thought he died.”

“No, he did actually die.”

“If he died, then how is he here now- “

“Lelei watch out!” Tuka cried.

Lelei turned around and saw the corpse of Kaon, still alight from her magical fire, stand and advance on her, still holding both of its swords.

“Dear La.” Lelei uttered wide eyed.

The burning Kaon took a step towards both girl and elf. Then an arrow embedded itself in the corpse’s skull.

With an unnatural motion, it turned its neck to gaze upon Tuka, who had her bow out and was drawing another arrow upon the back of her horse.

The undead ran towards Tuka, who loosed arrow after arrow into it, slowing it down but not stopping it. When it got close enough, it leapt into the air to stab the young elf.

Faster than any human, Tuka had already thrown aside her bow and instead drew a longsword from the sheath strapped to her saddle. With a single swift arc, Tuka’s sword separated the undead Kaon’s horse from its neck.

The loss of its head did not stop the undead’s momentum, and while it dropped the blades in its hands, the body still crashed into Tuka, sending both elf and corpse tumbling to the ground.

“Tuka!” Lelei shouted as she ran over to her friend, followed by a limping Yao.

“I-I’m fine.” Tuka said slowly. She was on the ground, while the undead dark elf was sprawled over her. Gingerly, Tuka sat up, pushing the dead body off her before resting her head in her hand, “I think I may have hit my head on the ground though… Everything’s spinning… alright, I definitely hit my head.”

“That could be serious.” Lelei stated as she knelt down beside Tuka, “We’ll get you to the Sisters of Shallya back at the Fort, they’ll take a look at you. Here, give me your shoulder. Dark elf-”

“My name is Yao Haa Dushi.” Yao said.

“Yao then; I know you are injured as well, but can you help me move Tuka back to her horse?”

“I can.” Yao answered as she slowly walked over to the other two women, “I am used to working through pain.”

“Thank you Lelei.” Tuka whispered as she complied with the mage girl’s request, wrapping her left arm around Lelei’s shoulder, and her right arm around Yao.

“I didn’t know you knew how to use a sword.” Lelei said as the trio began to move towards Tuka’s horse, which had wandered a few yards away after its rider had been knocked to the ground, “I thought the sword was just for show.”

“I have spent a lot of time watching Vanon and his fellow warriors undergo weapon drills back in Ulthuan.” Tuka explained, “It was only natural that I picked up a few things.”

“I beg pardon, but what is Ulthuan?” Yao asked, “Is it an Outlander Kingdom?”

“It is.” Tuka answered with a whisper, “I can speak more of it later when my head is not throbbing.”

“Of course, I apolo- hold.” The three women stopped, “A large band of riders is coming from the north.”

“It must be the Imperial troops.” Lelei said, “They must have seen the outpost’s signal fire and sent reinforcements.”

Sure enough, dozens of armored knights and pistoliers came down the road, armed to the teeth. Among the banners that were being carried, Lelei and Tuka recognized the griffon banner of Prince Erhardt in the front of the company, curiously enough, along with the rose banner of Princess Pina Co Lada’s order.

“Lady Tuka, Lady Lelei?” Prince Erhardt, accompanied by Lector Natter, Sir Siegfried, and Princess Pina, asked in his heavily accented common tongue, as his horse came to a stop in front of the trio. He held up his hand to halt the rest of the horsemen and knights, “You look as if you were in a fight; what happened?”

“Your Highness, we were being chased by a swarm of large bats, and then set upon by an undying monster.” Lelei explained in Reikspiel, “Tuka had to take its head before it died.”

“Did she say an undying foe?” a grim faced bearded man asked as he rode up to Erhardt, “And large bats as well?”

“I did, Sir…” Lelei started, unsure of the stranger’s name.

“I am Commander Morgan Bernhardt.” He replied, “And it seems, Prince Erhardt, that even this land is cursed by the living dead.”

“The live dead? Outrageous.” Princess Pina stated in her own limited understanding of Reikspiel, “No such creatures exist in Falmart.”

“No, but they do in our world.” Bernhardt replied, “If the Princess is correct, then it seems that men of the Empire aren’t the only immigrants to Falmart, Prince.”

“What are they saying?” Yao asked in the common tongue, “What did you tell them?”

“I told them about the creatures we just fought.” Lelei explained, “The bats and your undying friend.”

“If you’re telling them that, then also tell them about the thing that leads them; a pale skinned monster that drinks blood.”

“A pale monster?” Lelei asked, “How do you know it drinks blood?”

“I did not set out on my journey alone.” Yao said, “I saw it drain several old friends of their blood.”

“What did you say?” Erhardt interjected, moving his horse closer to a surprised Yao, “Did you say that a blood sucking monster leads these beasts?”

“I- yes.” Yao said with a nod, “It was monsters such as these that drove me people from their homes.”

“Vampire.” Erhardt stated in Reikspiel, “We face a Sigmar-damned vampire.”

Erhardt motioned for several pf his Reiksguard to come over before addressing the trio again.

“These knights will escort you three back to the fort. Lady Tuka, your head injury looks serious, and no offense to you, Lady Lelei, but you and your new companion do not look much better.”

“I understand.” Lelei nodded, “Good luck to you Your Highness.”

Erhardt watched as the two knights helped Tuka back onto her horse, and then leading the trio back to the Fort.

“A vampire.” He muttered again, “And here I was thinking that the ruinous powers were the worse of it.”

“Steel yourself Prince Erhardt.” Natter said from Erhardt’s left, “For it seems that we must do Sigmar’s work this night.”

The Lector reached to his side and pulled out a deadly flail, whose head was inscribed with runes and holy symbols of the twin tailed comet. He then turned his horse around and faced the men.

“Men of the Empire!” Natter shouted, “Tonight we face the blasphemous forces of the undead, led by an unholy vampire! Harden your resolve, for though some of us may die tonight, we die doing Sigmar’s bidding! For few foes are as worthy of his destruction as the vampire and its minions! Now forward, and send the dead back to their graves!”

The knights and other horsemen let loose a cheer at Natter’s rousing words.

“A word of advice Prince.” Natter said as he faced Erhardt again, flail out, “Never let your men see your fear; if they think you are afraid, then the battle is already lost, let alone the war.”

“You think there will be war Lector?”

“Perhaps. I’ve experience with vampire. Call it a gut feeling, but I think we may be dealing with more than one vampire in the future.”

Erhardt nodded grimly. He tried to hide it, but in that moment, he was terrified; he knew the tales of the Von Carsteins, and how they almost tore down the Empire and turned it into an undead kingdom. Chaos cultist were one thing, but a vampire…

“Prince Erhardt,” Pina began, “Forgive me, but what is a Vampire?”

“An inhuman monster Princess.” Erhardt answered, “Stronger, faster, and deadlier than any man. Those cursed things drink the blood of mortals to remain ageless and powerful. I implore you; should you come face to face with one of the field, run.”

 

Beyond the mortal planes...

===

Nothing on earth existed like the Azyrheim, the hall of Sigmar. To one on the outside, it's exterior was akin to that of a gargantuan cathedral; Gothic and foreboding, and decorated with grim faced angels armed with all manner of weapons.

The interior, on the other hand, had more in common with the halls of the barbarian kings of old than any temple. Filled with carousing men and women, who sat at long tables stretched on for miles, and plates of meat and fruit and barrels of mead refilled themselves when they were emptied, this hall was a place of joy. From the ceiling flew winged figures, who darted between the huge chandeliers made of antlers and bones, and at every entrance stood warriors garbed in armor painted gold and blue, and who wore helmets forged in the shape of a human face.

In the center of it all, was a huge throne made of stone; undecorated and unfurnished, it looked ordinary among all the golden splendor of the hall. Upon it sat the warrior-god, Sigmar Heldenhammer, the lord of this hall. Though taller and mightier than any mortal king, his bearded face was grinning a jovial smile, making him look more human than divine as he scanned his blue eyes over the hall.

His sight settled on an approaching woman, garbed in ornate plate armor. She was beautiful beyond words, not soft however, but striking and terrible all the while her piercing green eyes blazed with a keen intellect. This was Myrmidia, Goddess of War, and, currently, Sigmar's collaborator for tonight's events. For while he was playing host, this whole venture was hers.

"I've just received word." she said as she leaned in and whispered into Sigmar's ear, "At least two of their number comes tonight."

"Do we know which two?" he replied.

"We do. Hardy, the Queen of the Underworld, and Deldort, their God of Covenants."

"At the very least they send a diplomat." Sigmar sighed, "Is he any good?"

"I don't know. I've never met him. He'll have to be though, considering this merry band that I have brought under your roof tonight."

Sigmar grunted in agreement as he looked out over his guests. All the gods and goddesses of the Old World were gathered here this night; from gloomy Morr, mercurial Manann, kind Shallya, to jovial Dazh and gruff Ulric. Even clever Ranald was here, though he was for once an invited guest rather than uninvited.

The gods of men were not the only ones in attendance however. The Cadai, gods of the elves, and the Ancestor Gods of the dwarfs, had sent their own representatives for this night, though they both stood on other ends of the hall. Too much had passed between their two races. At least they could act civil with one another.

“I would like to thank you again for agreeing to use your hall for tonight’s summit.” Myrmidia said, “I doubt the Ancestor Gods would have agreed to be under the same roof as the Cadai without your word.”

“Think nothing of it. I am equally impressed that you somehow managed to gather all the members of our pantheon here.”

“All except for one. A pity that the Lady could not be here.” Myrmidia said in a low voice, and both her and Sigmar cast their gaze at Lileath, the Cadai’s representative.

“Hmm.” Sigmar grunted, before changing the subject “What can you tell me of our guests? Is this Hardy a dour monarch, like your father Morr-“

“She is nothing like my father.” Myrmidia said, perhaps a bit too quickly, “At first appearance, she’s quite personable, but that just hides her… carefree nature.”

“A god of the dead, carefree?” Sigmar asked, perplexed.

“You shall see when you meet her tonight.”

“Hmph. What of this Deldort? Though you have yet to meet, do you know anything of his character?”

“Most of my interactions are with Hardy, I’m afraid. I’ve yet to meet any of the others.”

Before Sigmar could say anything else, a winged warrior clad in blue-gold armor landed in front of the two deities.

“My Lord Sigmar.” The warrior said as he brought his fist to his heart, “The Envoys from the other world are here.”

“Very well then Steward, send them.” Sigmar ordered with a nod. The warrior bowed his head and then flew off.

“Well, it seems I now do my part in this.” Sigmar whispered to his compatriot as he stood up. He held out his right hand, and lighting sprung to life from his palm. The electricity elongated, and then it transformed into a huge Warhammer.

Sigmar gently tapped the bottom of the Warhammer against the dais his throne rested upon. While it started softly, the noise the taps made grew in volume until they became loud booms, which every soul in the hall heard. All eyes were then upon Sigmar.

“Friends!” Sigmar began, “Brothers, sisters, and honored guests! I hope that my food and drink has satisfied you!”

The hearty cheer that rose up from the hall was all the answer Sigmar needed.

“Well, to my brave warriors, continue to feast! For my fellow gods and myself, however, we have business to attend to! Steward! Let our guests of honor through!”

The winged warrior landed in front of a huge gate. He nodded to two guards, who then pulled open the great doors.

It was then that the New Gods stepped through.

Hardy came through the doors first, and she was a sight to behold. Tall, with long golden hair, and garbed in a low-cut gossamer dress that left very little to the imagination, she walked into the halls of Azyrheim with a sultry smile, and as if she were the most powerful being in the world.

Deldort, God of Covenants, devoid of a single hair upon his bronzed skin, was dressed in a simple golden toga, but he carried himself with the confidence and pride that was likened to the elven deities.

While the god came alone, Hardy, Queen of the Underworld, seemed to have brought her whole court with her; humans, dark skinned elves, and humanoid creatures with draconic wings, claws, and scales. All women, and all copying their goddess’ style of dress.

“Hail Hardy, Goddess of the Underworld, and hail Deldort, God of Convenants! I welcome you to my home, Azyrheim! Though our talk is grim, it can wait for a while. For now, eat, drink, and be merry!”

===

“I thank you for allowing us into your home Lord Sigmar.” Hardy said as she took her seat at the great golden table, “I will have to repay you, sometime in the future.”

“Enough of the pleasantries!” Grimnir, representative of the Dwarfen Ancestor Gods, “Heldenhammer, you’ve told us that these newcomers have something of importance to say, did you not? Then out with it! We haven’t got all night!”

“Though he speaks harsher than I, my sentiments mirror that of the honorable dawi.” Lileath said, “Perhaps it is best that we skip the pleasantries and move to the reason of why we are all here. Myrmidia?”

The war-goddess sighed and stood up from her seat.

“Hardy, would you start from the beginning please?”

“The beginning? Very well then. My first memory as a young girl involved a pony that I so desperately-“the teasing goddess began before breaking off into a short chuckle, “I jest, I jest. To lighten the mood is all.”

“Perhaps I should start.” Deldort said, before continuing, “We hail from a world with no name, with a single continent that is called Falmart. It was an empty land, devoid of thinking creatures.”

“So, to liven things up a bit, I created the Gate.” Hardy interrupted, earning a glare from Doldert, “Whenever the planes between worlds were at their thinnest, that was when I would forge a gate, and through it would come all manner of peoples. Humans, elves, dwarves, among countless others! Ah such were the days. The Gate would never stay open for very long mind you; extended periods would cause our world to rip itself a part you see. No, the Gate would stay open long enough for a sizeable breeding population of a species to come through. So it had been, and so it should have been.”

“You speak as if that is no longer the case.” Morr said, in his typical deep voice.

“No, it is not.” Deldort said, “Over a year ago, the planes of our world and your own came into alignment, and were ripped open. Not by Hardy however. By another god, and originating from your world.”

“Our guests speak, of course, of the Gods of Chaos.” Myrmidia said, “Shortly afterwards, Hardy passed through the barriers between worlds, and was discovered by Lady Lileath, who in turn contacted me.

“Even as we speak, an invasion in underway. The Four and their daemonic servants prepare to lay siege upon the domains of the gods, and their mortal servants gather in the north under one of their barbarian warrior kings. Though mighty themselves, Hardy and Deldort’s fellow gods, and their mortal servants do not know the enemy they face. They are not prepared. If we do not act, then an entire world may become lost to Chaos.”

“As if we have not already a host of troubles to deal with!” Ulric roared, “While my heart sympathizes with these gods, just what is it do you suggest that we do, Myrmidia?”

“You need do nothing, except allow me to open more Gates.” Hardy said with a smile, “Gates in the heartlands of your people’s kingdoms. Myrmidia has told me much of your patron peoples, and of their prowess as warriors. I will open the Gates, and your peoples will come through, and do what is that they do best; they will make war upon our shared foes, and drive they from Falmart. While they do this, it is the hope of my pantheon that you, the gods and goddesses of this world, will join us in battle against the Four, drive them from our world, and close their own dark gate.”

“You ask much from us.” Lileath stated, “What do you offer in return?”

“Despite their power, the infestation of Chaos is new. Our world is unspoiled by its corrupting influences.” Deldort said, “Help us, and the purity of our world will help yours. Think of it; your peoples can grow, expand, and forge great legacies there.”

“Does not kingdoms and empires already exist upon your world? Would they not take offense to our peoples?” Sigmar asked, warily.

“Oh, the Empire that rules Falmart could do with a lesson in humility. Still though, we will speak to them through our Apostles. They will explain that the visitors from another world are here to help. Disagreements over lands can come later. In any case, so long as the world is intact, and our worship secured, I don’t really care who rules Falmart.

“So, in exchange for your help, the peoples whom you act as patrons for will receive the chance to live in a world free of Chaos.” Hardy leaned back in her chair, “Do we have a deal?”

===

In the end, the gods agreed to Hardy’s terms. Gates would open in Ulthuan and the Empire, allowing armies from both the realms of Asur and Men to march through, and fight the dark forces that were invading. The Ancestor Gods refused to have a Gate be opened so close to the mountains of their people, nor would they have anything to do with this venture, not trusting either the newcomers, or the Cadai. Grimnir said as much before he stormed out, much to Sigmar’s disappointment.

As the days went by, and Hardy’s preparations to open multiple Gates progressed, an unforeseen event threw an obstacle into the god’s plan.

Somehow divining their strategy, the Ruinous Powers, Tzeentch most likely, cast a spell of great power, severing the links between the new gods and their apostles and priests.

They could no longer inform the mortals of Falmart that reinforcements were on their way… and it was then that the daemon armies of Khorne, Nurgle, Tzeentch, and Slaanesh struck.

Two wars were waging; one on the mortal plane of Falmart, and one in the heavens.

Should Chaos emerge triumphant in either theater of war, a world would fall into the screaming void of darkness, and the Four would become stronger for it.

 

Erhardt groaned in pain as he dragged himself across the mud. His army was smashed into pieces during the battle; men of Reikland completely overwhelmed by ribs were cracked, and his leg was broken. With their defeat, Fort Griffon was now wide open to attack. He had failed his duty…

Everyone was dead… Siegfried, Natter, Father Wilhelm… where had it all gone so wrong? They had come to fight the vampires, and victory was almost upon them when the real enemy emerged.

Erhardt saw his sword a few feet in front of him. If he could only each it! If he was to die, then at the very least he would die fighting, like a man of Altdorf!

He dragged himself towards it, hopefully before the foe saw him. Almost there, almost there… it was so close he could reach out and touch it-

His fingers were mere inches from the sword when a huge metal boot planted itself on top of the blade. Erhardt looked up, and came face to face with the blood red eyes of the monster that killed all his men.

It was the last thing he ever saw, for a moment later, the monster planted it’s great battleaxe into the Prince’s skull, cleaving it in two.

Erhardt’s killer pulled his weapon from the dead prince, and held it aloft in the air, before letting loose a great roar!

“GRIMGOR IS DA BEST! Dees puny humies are jus the start boys! Next, we’s a gonna krump those shiny gits, and then those other humies in that sparkling city! Then we’s gonna krump this whole world! WAAAGH!!!!”

Grimgor Ironhide’s roar was answered by every one of his boys, from the puny goblins, the the biggest of his Immortalz. Tens of thousands of individuals, all crying out with one voice;

“WWWWWAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!”

===

Upon receiving news of the death of his son, Karl Franz was enraged, and led an army through the Gate to take revenge upon Grimgor, only to find that the black orc had already left. In any event, Franz had no time to pursue his revenge, for a great many things were all happening at once.

Archaon had invaded Kislev.

Nagash returned from the dead (again).

Malekith turned out to be the True Phoenix King.

The lIzardmen got on a spaceship and left.

The Skaven blew up the moon.

Franz himself died and was used as a meat puppet by Sigmar.

And Mannfred became extremely petty, and was responsible for letting the world get blown up, killing everybody.

Spoiler

*Paid for by Games Workshop

Buy Age of Sigmar!

 

“Steel your hearts men of Reikland!” Erhardt commanded, “For battle is upon us!”

Erhardt’s band of riders had finally arrived at the Outpost, only to find it swarmed with large bats, who were overwhelming the garrison through sheer numbers.

Immediately, the pistoliers and outriders began firing into the air, bringing down as many of the flying monsters as they could, while the knights rode forth, swords swinging in an almost mechanical precision, hacking and slashing any of the bats that got close, and driving them away from the stricken garrison.

Erhardt looked across the Outpost, trying to find the vampire responsible for leading this swarm. His eyes finally caught a man dressed in the armor of the locals, armed with one of their short, stabbing swords, carve his way into a group of state troops like they were standing still. Most disturbingly of all, fresh blood was dripping down from the corners of the man’s mouth.

“There it is!” Erhardt shouted to several of his pistoliers while pointing at the vampire, “There’s the vampire! Shoot it! Shoot it now!”

The men followed their prince’s command, took aim, and fired into the vampire. Several shots managed to hit the undead monster, with one managing to hit it in the chest.

The vampire, now enraged, looked for whatever had hurt it, eyes settling on the pistoliers beside Erhardt. With a bestial snarl, it leapt into the air, landed next to one of the pistoliers, grabbed his leg, and ripped him off his horse. The vampire then sunk his teeth into the screaming man’s neck, intent on draining all of his blood.

Forcing his fear down, Erhardt drew his sword and lashed out at the vampire, intent on cutting off its head. The vampire was too fast though, and managed to side step the blade, which only managed to scratch its cheek. It was forced to let go of the pistoliers, who got up and ran away from the vampire.

“Monster!” Erhardt shouted, “Your fight is with me, beast!”

Under normal circumstances, Erhardt knew that he was no match for a vampire. These weren’t normal circumstances, however. He had already cut the cheek of this monster, something that should be impossible.

Was this animal a newborn? Not yet grown into its power? If that was the case, then there was a chance that Erhardt could kill it himself.

“A fight? Oh no, Outlander, this is not a fight...” it replied, licking the dripping blood from his mouth, “This is hunting for my next meal. I think you’ll do nicely.”

The vampire charged Erhardt, striking out with his blade faster than any mortal man, and it was all the Reiklander Prince could do to parry the blows. Oh, what a fool he had been! A fledgling this unholy creature may be, but a vampire was still a vampire. Unless he did something soon, it would kill him.

Erhardt reached behind his back with his left hand, and pulled out a pistol, aiming it right in the vampire’s face. In response, the vampire bared its fangs and lunged at the prince. As quick as he could, he pulled the trigger.

The bullet entered the Vampire’s open mouth, and exited through the back of its head, blowing off its jaw and creating a huge hole just above the base of the neck.

Unlike a mortal man, this did not kill the monster. It was a testament to the vampire’s unholy durability that it still ‘lived.’ Instead of dying, the vampire dropped to its knees, grabbing its injured jaw, and trying to howl in bestial rage and pain.

This was the opening he had been waiting for. Erhardt thrust his sword forward, and impaled the monster between its eyes before quickly removing it. Its lifeless body fell to the ground, its eyes filled not with pain, but with surprise.

The death of the vampire was felt instantly across the battlefield. The bats began to scatter, taking off into the night. The men all cheered at this turn of events, and those with guns began to fire them with the intent to bring down a few more bats.

“Well done my Prince.” Natter said as he rode up to Erhardt, “You’ve managed to not only survive an encounter with a vampire, but you managed to kill it as well.”

The Lector’s mace was bloodied, but aside from that, Natter did not look like a man who had partaken in battle.

“I think it was a young vampire, Lector.” Erhardt admitted, “If it was older, more experienced, I believe it would have been I lying dead tonight, instead of it.”

“Then let us thank Sigmar that it was just a fledgling.” Natter replied, “In any case, that vampire was clearly a local.”

“What are you getting at Lector?”

“A vampire from our side of the Gate turned this man into an abomination of undeath. We killed the fledgling, but the master still remains at large.

“This is not over Prince.” Natter said as he turned his horse around, “I suggest that we return to the Fort, and see what the dark-skinned elf has to say for herself.”

===

Fort Griffon

“… after we had managed to find a temporary sanctuary, I volunteered to come here,” Yao Haa Dushi explained to the assembled Imperials, “To ask permission to settle for our old and young to here in the safety of your fort, and for your assistance in driving out the Elbans.”

“So, the King of Elbe is a vampire.” Erhardt repeated, “And he raised an undead force to drive your people, the… dark elves… from your home. He also sent the vampire that attacked our outpost to hunt you down. That is at least two newborn vampires on this side of the Gate… not counting their sire of course.”

“That’s the least of our problems.” Morgan Bernhardt interrupted, “Vampires are capable of raising large numbers of undead. This land has no Gardens of Morr, no defense against Necromancy.”

Erhardt’s eyes widened. He knew the implications that Bernhardt was making.

“Princess Pina,” Erhardt addressed his guest, “How long have people lived in Elbe?”

“Over a thousand years.” She answered, “If the elf and Commander Bernhardt speak true, then your vampire has the potential to raise an undead host in the tens, if not hundreds of thousands.”

Immediately, the entire room erupted into a chorus of noise. An undead horde? Hundreds of thousands strong? They’d be overrun!

“My Lords- “Natter spoke in order to get everyone’s attention, but to no avail.

Bernhardt slammed his fist into the table, creating a loud noise. That got everyone’s attention.

“Thank you Commander.” Natter said with a nod, “Be not afraid of the undead. Our ancestors defeated the likes of Vlad and Mannfred. Surely, we will overcome here as well. We must act fast though.”

“Indeed.” Erhardt agreed, “I will send a message to my father, the Emperor, asking him for reinforcements. In the meantime, we must gather the men, and make ready to march south, to Elbe. This is a threat that we cannot ignore.”

“Prince Erhardt.” Pina said as she stood, “Allow my Rose Order to join you in this campaign. If the vampires are as great a threat as you say, then one day will threaten my people.”

“I graciously accept your help.” Erhardt replied, before turning to Yao, “As for you Lady Yao, I accept your petition of sanctuary. Your people will be allowed to settle here until the crisis has passed.”

“I thank you Prince.” She replied.

===

That night, the Fort was abuzz with activity as the army, it’s numbers now bolstered with mercenaries, began to prepare for the long march south.

“When I came here, I wasn’t expecting to fight vampires.” Erhardt admitted to Natter.

“None of us were. Still, this provides us with an opportunity.”

“How so?”

“Once we defeat the undead, Elbe will be in a state of turmoil. It will be a perfect opportunity for us to add more lands to this March.”

“How opportunistic of you Lector.”

“I take that as a compliment. I wish you luck in your war, but for now, I must leave the fort.”

“Leave? Now, of all times? Where are you going?”

“Italica. I saw the map of the lands the Empire was going to sign over to us; Italica is not among them. Located at the crossroads of two highways, whomever controls Italica will control the flow of goods from east to west. I intend to bring the Countess into our camp.”

“I see… I wish you luck then. When you are finished, however, join the army. We will need a Lector of you experience when the time comes to face the master vampire.”

“Of course my Prince.”

===

Elbe

Mannfred looked out over the balcony of the tallest tower in the city, gazing up at the moon.

“Nearly full…” he whispered, “Nearly full…”

 

Several days after the Skirmish on the Southern Road

Elbe

“My Lord,” Remus said as he walked through the door leading to the tower’s balcony, “I’ve returned from the Forest. The elves have been driven from-”

“Quiet.” Mannfred, dressed in his black armor, with a red cape draped over his shoulders, ordered as the elder vampire gazed at the moon, “Trouble me not with minor details of your campaign. Tonight, is the fruition of all mine own plans”

“Of course, My Lord.” Remus replied with a bow, “I shall leave you.”

“Didst I sayeth leave?” Mannfred asked with a dangerous tone. Remus said nothing, but nervously stepped forward.

“Look upon the moon, Remus,” Mannfred said as he pointed at the celestial body in question, “What can thee tell me of it?”

“It is full this night, My Lord.”

“Forsooth. Tis what I has't been waiting for almost a year.”

“The full moon?”

“Not just any full moon Remus… bid me, what doth thee knoweth of mine own world?”

“It is a place of great power, and the birthplace of our gift of immortality. Beyond that, I am afraid my knowledge is lacking.”

“Aye, we shalt has't to correct yond one day.” Mannfred admitted before continuing, “I prepareth for the ritual yond shall raiseth our mighty host. I has't hath found a land full of dead, waiting to riseth and doth their master’s bidding…”

Remus saw that Mannfred then reached into his cape, and pulled out a large, dusty tome, bound with a strange leather, with strange writing inscribed upon it’s bindings.

“I has't did search far and wide, high and base, for this grimoire, a Book of Nagash, the father of our magical arts.” He continued, before returning the book to his cape.

He then gestured to the great sarcophagus, full of warpstone.

“I has't did secure a chest of warpstone, taken from the ratmen at most wondrous did cost, but well worth the expense.

“I hath gathered all the components I need for this ritual, to recreate the act yond mine own sire, Vlad von Carstein, didst in days of yore… but there was one, crucial component missing. One thing remains that I require to truly accomplish a spell of this magnitude… the moon. It must be full this night.”

“I don’t understand Lord, there have been full moons in the past. Why must it be full now?”

“Oh, young Remus, it hast nothing to do with thy moon… and everything to do with the moon of mine own world. For you see, our worlds are connected, with the Gates serving as bridges between the two. On this night, however… oh, this night. ”Mannfred was growing excited now, almost shaking with anticipation.

“A revelation wast revealed to me Remus… tonight, our two worlds shall be closer than ever, and in a few short minutes, the planes of reality on which those worlds reside shall merge, and the final piece of the ritual shall cometh to us! Only an hour shall it lasts, but t shalt be all that I require to chargeth mine own spell! In thy world, tonight is but any other night! It is nothing. In mine own world, it is everything! In mine own world, Morrsleib, the Chaos Moon, is full!

“In mine own world, tonight, it is Geheimnisnacht!”

It was then, that something began to eclipse the moonlight. Remus looked into the sky, and was shocked by what he saw. Slowly but surely, there was another moon in the sky. It was nothing like his native one though; it glowed with a sickly green color, and upon its surface, it bore a great resemblance to a skull.

“Behold Morrsleib, the Chaos moon!” Mannfred shouted, his arms outstretched, “Tonight on Geheimnisnacht, it is full, and though the merging of the planes this night, it hovers over both two worlds! Mine, and yours! On this night, magic is at its greatest! It will give me the power to summon the greatest undead legion in the history of the world! Never before has this world seen such a host, nor will it ever again!”

With that, Mannfred took out the Book of Nagash, and began to read from it. Remus could not understand the language, but even he could feel the power of the spell that Mannfred was casting.

‘Such power,’ the King of Elbe thought to himself, ‘One day, it will be mine…’

===

Reading from the book of Nagash, and empowered by both the warpstone, and by the Chaos Moon, Mannfred’s power grew, and grew, and his spell swept across the land. From the city of Elbe, it’s neighboring kingdoms, and all the way to Italica, the dead began to rise.

In every graveyard and masaleum, the dead rose from their resting places. From the newly dead, to the ancient, they rose to their feet, clawing their way out of wooden coffins and dirt, pushing off stone slabs, or simply raising themselves from the ground where they fell. It did not matter how they died, or where they were buried; all rose, and all began to march.

Ignoring the living, and compelled to arm themselves with whatever they could lay their cold hands upon, the dead marched towards Elbe, where their master was. They would gather together in the largest undead horde since the heydays of the Von Carsteins, during the Vampire Wars. Three times the Von Carsteins rose up to claim the Empire that was rightfully theirs, and three times, they were denied by small minded men.

Not this time however. This time, Mannfred would claim a new continent, a new world, and all the souls that dwelled there for himself.

This would be the Age of the Vampire!

===

All across the continent, beyond Elbe, the appearance of the Chaos Moon affected all who stood under its sickly light.

In isolated towns and villages, mutations grew and appeared upon the bodies of the common folk of the Empire, human and demihuman alike.

In the forests, animals stood up on two legs, and brayed at the moon.

There were only two places where men who truly understood what was happening dwelled. One was Alnus Hill, and the other Sadera…

===

Alnus Hill

“Spirits!” a soldier cried out as apparitions began to swarm in the sky, “This hill is haunted!”

All over Alnus, apparitions appeared in the night sky, emerging when the chaos Moon suddenly appeared. The spirits of the dead, slain in the bloody battles over the Gate, letting loose screams of terror, striking fear into the hearts of all.

“What is happening!” Pina asked as she and Erhardt stood in the center of the fort, terrified soldiers running around them, “How is this possible?”

“Morrsleib…” Erhardt whispered “The Chaos Moon is full in the sky. This is impossible. It may be Geheimnisnacht, but this should be impossible!”

“Enough!” a strong voice shouted.

Erhardt, Pina, and many others turned around and saw Father Wilhelm approach, in full armor, followed closely behind by the College Mages.

“This is the work of dark magic!” the warrior priest shouted, “Terrible they may be, but they are still nothing before the power of Sigmar! Behold!”

Wilhelm raised his hammer and shouted at the sky.

“Evil spirits! I do not fear you! Come at me! Come and taste the might of Sigmar, who will banish you to Morr’s realm once more!”

As if responding to his challenge, the spirits descended upon the warrior priest. Erhardt moved forward to assist the priest, hand on his blade, but stopped when he saw what happened next.

Wilhelm was glowing gold, and the ghosts were repulsed from him, disappearing into the air in the face of his holy might.

“See!” Wilhelm shouted for all to hear, “See how they shrink away to nothingness before the righteous! Fear not these spirits oh Sons of Sigmar! For they are nothing before the Ur-Emperor’s strength!”

The mages behind Wilhelm all began to cast their own spells, banishing the spirits will arcane might. As if the madness and terror had been banished with them, the men all stopped their panic, and instead looked to the warrior priest, with a mixture of awe and respect.

“Men of the Empire!” Wilhelm continued, “This blasphemous act was done by the accursed vampires, who rise in the south! We march for war against these abominations! Mighty though they are, they will fall before you, oh brave Sons of Sigmar! Do not let fear claim your hearts! Instead, tear down the walking dead, and in case death has made them forget, teach them the meaning of fear instead! Sigmar Vult!”

“Sigmar Vult!” all the soldiers cried out, Erhardt among them. While the fear was still there, it would not keep them from doing their duty for both Sigmar and Empire.

===

Sadera

“It appears the vampire has done it.” The Councilor said as he looked up at the moon.

The white raven upon his shoulder cawed in response.

“Indeed,” the old man replied, “All goes according to plan… All hail the Great Deceiver.”

 

The forests of northeastern Falmart, One Week after Geheimnisnact

“Oi, Wizard!” a dwarf yelled as he pulled open the tent flaps, “Dinner’s ready! Come and get it while it’s still hot!”

“Yes Dron, in a moment.” Cato, Elder Sage and current guide to the dwarfs, said as he furiously wrote down notes beside the sketch he had made earlier of a gyrocoptor in flight, “I just need to finish this, and then I’ll join everyone.”

“Bah.” Dron grunted as he closed the tent flaps “Suit yerself. Don ye come crying to me when it’s cold though!”

“Deal!” Cato called out as he dipped his quill into the ink bowl once more.

Truly, this trip he had taken was most fascinating! In all his long years of living as a traveling Elder Sage, Cato had never interacted with this dwarves for this long before! True, these dwarves were from another world, but still! They were always such a secretive race, kept to themselves, and always on the move. One could go their whole life without ever meeting a dwarf. For whatever reason, those stout nomads kept to the northern forests and mountains, and save for a handful of individuals, they never ventured outside their range and into Saderan Territory.

So many unanswered questions… and now, he was on the trail to discovering the answers!

Of course, he was not alone in this. In fact, he was merely along for the ride, serving as a dual guide/adviser to Thane Kregan, the leader of this band of Outlander dwarves. While few could truly call themselves ‘experts’ on the nomad dwarves, even with his scarce knowledge, Cato knew that the outlanders were nothing like the ones of his world. For starters, their armor and weapons were of greater quality and greater design than even the Reiklanders! Cannons with multiple guns, flying machines, the most advanced catapults he had ever seen, and the most expertly crafted weapons and armor that, should a Senator buy a set, it would cost a hefty fortune.

There was also their mistrust of magic… if Erhardt’s people were uneasy around mages, then the dwarves were outright disdainful of them. To them, magic was untrustworthy, dangerous, and more than one dwarf acted as if he was going to explode at any moment.

Cato was used to being treated differently by people; whether it was as a respected scholar of the arcane arts, or as a mostly harmless eccentric varied from person to person.

Cato had never been feared before… Not like this. Adversaries being wary of his magical power was one thing, but to be treated like an inhuman monster? He didn’t know how to feel about that, and neither did young Lelei.

Cato grimaced at the memory of his young apprentice. He felt slightly guilty about leaving her behind, but she was old enough handle herself. Plus, she was safe at Fort Griffon. For all of Prince Erhardt’s many flaws as a ruler, Cato was sure that the Outlander prince wouldn’t let that witch hunter harm Lelei.

While the glares from the dwarves were disheartening at first, Cato found that he enjoyed their company. They were an honest, straightforward lot. They let you know exactly where you stood with them, and after over a month of traveling with them, serving as both guide and translator, Cato was glad to have formed a sort of rapport with several individuals, Dron, what the dwarves called a ‘longbeard’ in particular. While the dwarf would probably be forever uneasy around his magic, Dron was starting to act friendly around Cato, albeit in the brusque, rough sort of way that Cato found was universal among their stout race.

Cato liked to think the longbeard was accepting him because Dron appreciated his use as a translator and a guide. When he asked him about it, he was surprised by the answer.

“It’s cause you have a fine beard!” Dron had explained, “Anyone with a beard that long and well-groomed can’t be all bad, even if he is manling, and a mage at that!”

Cato laughed at that memory.

Yes, despite all the initial bumps in the road, Cato did not regret accompanying the dwarves on their journey. To commemorate this, he had begun to keep a log of the trip; writing down the day’s events, and sketching individuals, as well as their fantastical war machines. One day, he hoped to share his experiences with the rest of the world, to show just how unique and different dwarves were from humankind.

“There.” Cato said as he set down his quill, “That should do it.”

With that, the wizard stood up, grabbed his staff, and left the tent, making his way to one of the many campfires. Eventually, he found Dron sitting at one, surrounded by several youngbeards. No doubt the old dwarf was regaling a tale from his past.

“Hello Dron.” Cato said as he sat down next to the longbeard, “I hope that dinner has not become cold in my absence.”

“Just in time Wizard.” Dron said as he passed Cato a bowl of stew, “Snorri and his rangers caught us some rabbits earlier today. Nice and tender, meat fell right off the bone.”

“Thank you.” Cato replied as he took the bowl and began eating, only pausing to look around the campfire, “Speaking of Snorri, where is he? He’s usually back from patrol by now.”

“That was before the Chaos Moon appeared in the sky.” Dron said as he spat upon the ground, “Now Thane Kregan has doubled the patrols, lest some band of mutants attack us unawares!”

“It’s only been a week though since the green moon. Could a band of these… what do you call them?” Cato asked, “Beastmen. That’s what you called them. Could a band of those monsters really have formed in such a time?”

“Tis possible.” Dron answered, “Those monsters are drawn together that moths to a flame. I didn’t think it was possible for the Chaos Moon to appear in your sky, but there it was, spreading it’s evil. No doubt about it; Ar’Uzkul has no doubt brought the scourge of civilization to your world.”

“How do you think it happened?” Cato asked.

“Well, I’m no wizard, so I couldn’t begin to speculate on such things. Only thing that makes sense is that, somehow, those gates brought it here.”

Cato ‘hmm’d’ and went back to his stew. Finding out what had happened that night, one week ago, was on his list of priorities. Somehow, one of the other world’s moons had appeared in the sky, and according to his traveling companions, it somehow spread evil all across Falmart; mutating animals and men alike, and empowering evil wizards.

Cato had yet to see any of these mutants, but he had no reason to doubt the dwarves on this. He would have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

“Enough talk of the Chaos Moon.” Dron exclaimed, “Let me tell you a story from my youth; bout when I was barely an adult and I came face to face with a giant lizard riding another, even larger lizard-”

‘I hope Snorri gets here soon.’ Cato thought as he listened intently to Dron’s story with fascination, ‘It would be a shame if he missed this.’

===

Snorri Goldshirt, ranger for Thane Kregan’s throng, slowly opened his eyes as he regained consciousness. He had a splitting headache, and he was just starting to become aware that his hands were bound together behind his back.

Also, two pairs of hands were gripping his arms and dragging him across the ground.

“What’s the meaning of this!” he shouted in the language of the locals, as his blurry vision barely made out the shapes of the two figures who were dragging him,” Where are me men? Where are ya taking me? Who are ya? Speak, or else I’ll see to it that yer put in the Book!”

Instead of an answer, he was thrown to the ground. He grunted and snarled at that, though that served to make him more angry than hurt.

‘Oh, they’re definitely getting a grudge for that if nothin else!’ he thought. On the plus side, his vision was rapidly improving, as he could now see that he was in a tent of some kind.

“Well now, it seems that the stunted little freak can speak our language. That will make this easier.”

Snorri looked up and saw the speaker.

He was an umgi, one of the locals at that, judging from his dress and how naturally he spoke the language. He was blonde, and had a cruel and arrogant smirk on his face. From the way he dressed, and from how he slouched on his gold chair, Snorri guessed that this man was rich by the standards of his kind, which meant he was poor by dawi standards. Snorri could also see that he was flanked on either side by two female mutants, with rabbit ears and furry arms and legs. All in all, the manling looked like an elf, a weakling.

Still though, he was Snorri’s captor, and as soon as the bound ranger learned the manling’s name, he would stop at nothing to see to it that it would be written down in Dammaz Kron.

“I don’t know who you are manling.” Snorri snarled, “But you’ve just made an enemy of my entire people today!”

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” the man said mockingly, “The short little trogs will come after me! I am Zorzal El Caesar, Crown Prince of the Saderan Empire; your kind don’t scare me. You can help me though in dealing with the rest of your party of hairy gremlins. I need information about your camp’s patrols, how many warriors you have, and, most importantly, what sort of engines of war do you possess.”

“I’ll never help you little-”

“Your consent is not required. We have ways of making you talk.” Zorzal said as he snapped his fingers.

As if on cue, someone grabbed Snorri by the back of his shirt, punched him in the face, shoved something into his mouth, and began to pour a foul, thick liquid down his throat.

Snorri tried to struggle, to close his mouth, anything, but it was no use. The vile liquid kept coming.

Zorzal laughed at the dwarf.

“In a few minutes, you’ll be telling us everything you little freak. Please, spare no details.”

 

Saderan Camp

“Well?” Zorzal asked the interrogator, a large man with crooked teeth, “Is the little freak finally talking?”

“He is Your Highness. Though it took us almost all of the potion you provided.”

“Damn.” Zorzal cursed, cupping his chin with his hand, “That was expensive stuff. Still though, he’s talking, so it is not a total loss. Tell me, what did he have to say?”

“They made their encampment in a clearing some ten miles out from here. There are at least two thousand more of the short ones there.” The interrogator explained, “They’re all disciplined warriors, equipped with heavy armor and master forged weapons, to say nothing of the lethality of their ranged instruments, or their cannons. The outskirts of their camp are also patrolled by rangers, highly skilled scouts. They’ll know that we’ll be coming before we actually get there.”

“Hmm… well, it seems that no matter how we proceed, we won’t be able to sneak up on them. Not unless we can somehow take out their rangers.”

“Easier said than done My Lord.” Tyuule, Zorzal’s warrior rabbit slave, and the leader of his special ‘auxiliaries’ said, “It took my best scouts all skill to sneak up and pacify the one ranger without alerting his fellows. It is impossible for us to silence them all. At least one will make it back to camp; if they haven’t already taken note of the absence of the dwarf we have captured.”

“Well now, that does not leave us with many options… If we cannot sneak up on them, then I suppose we shall have to let them know we are coming.”

“My Prince?” Tyuule asked, surprised.

“A full-on assault on their camp with my legion. Yes, yes! That will work. Alert the dragon riders; tell them to saddle up.”

“What do you want done with the prisoner?” the Interrogator asked.

“He’s useless now. Kill him, but before you do, shave off that ridiculous beard, and then put his head on a pike.”

===

“Still no sign of Snorri.” A ranger said to his fellow. The two rangers were looking for Snorri, who had been missing for two hours. They had already sent a third of their number back to camp to inform Lord Kregan, while they continued the search.

Unfortunately, they had yet to turn up any sign of their brother ranger.

“I don’t like this, Grunj.” The other ranger replied, “If some beast grabbed him, then there should have been signs of a struggle. None of that though; just the imprint on the earth where he fell, and a set of bare footprints.”

“Hear me out on this Largos,” Grunj began, stroking his beard, “I’m thinking that whatever took Snorri, instead of walking on the ground, they instead carried him into the trees, to avoid leaving a trail.”

“Would have to be strong to carry a full-grown dwarf. Clever too, to think of it in the first place. If you’re right, then this is no beast that nabbed him.”

“Aye. Something that can think took our brother.”

Silence. Then Largos spoke again.

“We should return to the camp, an tell the Thane what we know, and what we suspect-”

“Shh!” Grunj hissed, “Do ye hear that?”

Both rangers fell silent, and listened. Something large was flying overhead, above the treeline, and flying quickly at that.

“What in the-” Largos began, but then Grunj held up his hand for more silence.

Something else was flew over them. Then another, and another, and another. Two dozen in all.

“They’re heading towards the camp.” Grunj exclaimed, “We need to get back fast!”

Largos nodded, turned in the direction of camp, but then stopped. Suddenly, he turned around ,raised his rifle, and firing a shot into the darkness.

“We have company!” he shouted as he reloaded as quickly as he could.

Out of the darkness came over a dozen figures, who would have been human if not for the rabbit ears and their furry arms and legs. They were unmistakably Falmart demihumans, and each one was armed with two cured shortswords, and decorated with fierce warpaint.

“Go!” Largos shouted as he fired again, before tossing aside his gun and pulling out an axe, “Warn the camp that the enemy is here! I’ll hold em off for as long as I can!”

Grunj said nothing, but took off into the darkness towards the camp, while Largos charged headfirst into the attacking warrior rabbits.

“Come on now you harlots!” the ranger shouted, “Come and die! And when you get to whatever afterlife yer destined for, ya tell em that Largos of Karaz-A-Karak sent ya!”

===

“-and when it was all over, the lizard and I parted ways, having killed over three dozen rats, and the grey seer.” Dron said as he finished his tale.”

“My, my, that was quite a story.” Cato said as the younger dwarfs let loose a cheer.

“Aye, and twas all true! Plus, killing that grey seer managed to strike out a grudge from the book, so, as you umgi say, I killed two birds with one stone!”

Cato was about to say something, before he miraculously, over the sounds of two thousand very loud dwarves, heard something on the wind.

“Ah, what’s wrong wizard?” Dron asked as he noticed Cato looking at the sky.

“I hear something coming.”

“What? What do ye hear?”

“I can’t tell yet… leather wings…”

Suddenly, a giant beast emerged from the treeline and descended on the camp, landing next to one of the campfires near Cato and Dron.

It was one of the Saderan Empire’s famed dragon riders, and both knight dragon was dressed for war. The dragon’s neck lunged forward, and it took a dwarf into its snapping jaws and swallowed him whole. Meanwhile, the rider threw a javelin at another dwarf, impaling him threw the chest.

Suddenly, another dragon landed in the camp, followed by a third, and then a fourth. Though each dragon was nothing compared to the flame dragon that destroyed his home, Cato knew that even a lesser dragon that was used in armies the world over was capable of tearing apart a company of men.

“Sons of Grungni!” a loud booming voice shouted, and Cato saw Thane Kregan, in full armor, run at one of the dragons, his axe and hammer in each hand, “Rouse yerselves and grab a weapon! We be under attack! Show em how attacking the Dawi is going to be the last mistake that they’ll ever make!”

To prove his words, Kregan jumped into the air, and landed on the back of one of the lesser dragons, next to the rider. Faster than lightning, Kregan smashed his hammer into the man’s skull, pulverizing it in one blow. Then the dwarf Thane leaped onto the dragon’s neck, and brought his axe into the monster’s skull, killing it outright.

He raised both weapons, and then shouted for all to hear;

“Khazukan Kazakit-ha!”

 

Dwarfen Camp

“Khazukan Kazakit-ha!” Kregan shouted as he smashed his hammer into the side of a dragon’s skull.

“Khazukan Kazakit-ha!” came the response from the dwarfed warriors, as they all tried to fight off the dragon riders’ assault.

Easier said than done; after Kregan had killed his first rider, the rest had taken to the air, and began swooping down on the dwarfs, killing several with each pass and making themselves harder to hit.

That didn’t stop them from trying.

From guns to crossbows, the dwarfs grabbed as many ranged weapons as they could and opened fire on the dragons. Though most missed, a lucky few hit their target, bringing down a rider; the dragon was still alive, however, and attacked the dwarfs with wild abandon.

“Ha ha!” Kregan shouted triumphantly as brought down his hammer on top of the dragon, shattering its skull and pulverizing its brains, “Come on umgi! Is this the best you can do?”

No sooner had he said that than a javelin struck him in the shoulder. Kregan’s armor was strong, and the tip never made it through, but the force of the throw knocked the dwarf off his feet and onto his back.

“Damn!” he shouted as he tried to get back onto his feet, “That one hurt!”

While Kregan tried to get his bearings, another dwarf, dressed in the garb of a ranger, ran up next to the Thane, and helped the former to his feet.

“My Thane!” he said, “I bring grave news!”

“Graver than us being attacked by dragons?” Kregan asked sarcastically.

“Yes.” The ranger replied solemnly, “A band of mutants is coming this way. They’re well-armed, and there’s a lot of them, several dozen at least. They will arrive in minutes, and I fear they’re only the vanguard of a larger force.”

“Of course.” Kregan growled as he gripped his warhammers, “It makes sense now. These dragons were sent to hit us at our weakest, keep us disorganized, and then they send in their main force to attack us while we’re busy fighting these overgrown lizards. Which direction are they coming from?”

“From the south, same as I.”

“Hmph. Smart, except for one mistake;

“They’ve never fought the dawi before!”

Kregan roared at the top of his lungs.

“Hear me you Sons of Grungni! We’re about to have more company! Everyone, grab your weapons and armor and prepare for battle! We have mutants on the way, and Ancestors only know what else! They seek to overrun us! To bury us in bodies! I say that they are fools, and walking corpses! Now, let us send them to meet their ancestors!”

With that, Kregan gathered several dawi around him, and they prepared for the wave of foes that was coming to meet them.

As the battle continued, the first of the warrior rabbits emerged from the tree line. Moving faster than any human, and curved short swords in each hand, they descended upon the dwarfs, prepared to slaughter them to the last.

They were immediately faced with a haphazard line of several hundred dwarven warriors, led by their Thane; though there was no time to put on their thick armor, they gripped their prized weapons in their hands, and with an oath upon their lips, charged to meet the rabbits.

A bloody melee ensued, as dwarfs cleaved limbs and heads from the attacker’s bodies, and rabbit blades found their way to dawi necks and hearts.

“Come on then ye harlots!” Kregan roared as he sent a rabbit flying with a swing of his left hammer, “Come and die! Yer blood will soak the ground a ’fore the sun rises!”

Despite Kregan’s confidence, he knew that his forces were in a precarious situation. If they were properly prepared, fully armed and armored, and with the cannons set up in the light of day, he knew that he could overcome these foes, no matter what numbers they brought before him.

Now, however… it was night, and only a handful of his men were dressed for battle. The guns were sitting where the engineers had stored them for the night; useless in their current state, and the disciplined and unbreakable dawi lines were nonexistent; a mess of dwarfs fighting the mutants, and the dragons.

“My Thane!” Dron, the longbeard, called out as he dispatched a rabbit, Cato the Elder Sage close behind him, “Umgi warriors come from the forest!”

Sure enough, dozens of human soldiers emerged from the tree line, carrying their rectangle shields and short swords. Kregan recognized them; they were legionaries of the Saderan Empire, the dominant force in this world, whom the Empire umgi had been fighting.

Questions such as ‘why are they attacking?’ and ‘what do they want?’ entered Kregan’s mind, but ultimately, he paid them no mind. Right now, there was no time for questions; right now, the time was for action. He could discern the motives of these umgi later.

For now, he would simply kill them.

“Come Sons of Grungni!” he shouted, “Umgi appear before us! They think us easy prey no doubt! Let us show them why they’re wrong! Don’t give em an inch, and whatever ya do, don’t let em close ranks! Khazukan Kazakit-ha!”

Kregan shoved a rabbit out of his way, and charged at the legionaries. While on this long journey, Kregan had learned of how the legionnaires preferred to fight; namely, in organized formations. Such discipline was their strength, and how they had managed to conquer the continent.

While the tree line would make it hard for the dawi to tell how many more legionnaires were coming, it also prevented the Saderans from closing ranks and making use of their formations.

Divide and conquer then; keep the legionnaires separated, and kill them quick.

Kregan roared and charged, several of his warriors following close behind as they waded into the legionaries, hacking limbs and smashing shields.

Keeping them divided was easier said than done however; there were more and more humans emerging from the woods. Kregan and his line of warriors were being forced back, and the dragons were still attacking from above.

Then a horn was blown, and the dwarf thane knew that whatever it signified was nothing good for him and his kinsmen.

===

One minute ago

Tyuule watched as the Saderans pushed the dwarfs back. All was going as planned it seemed. Now it was the time to give that little prick Zorzal the signal.

“It seems that it is time for the next stage of our assault.” She said bitterly, and she snapped her fingers.

One of the other warrior rabbits took an ornate horn from her belt, and handed it to Tyuule. The former queen than took a deep breath, and blew into it, letting loose a loud blast.

From the other side of the clearing, Zorzal smiled from the back of his horse.

“That’s the signal men!” he shouted, and then drew his sword, “The anvil has been set in place! Time for us to be the hammer! Let’s go kill those stunted freaks, and claim our prize!”

Zorzal charged, and was followed by a thousand mounted lancers, charging into the middle of the dwarf camp.

The dawi were stuck in between the ever-increasing number of legionaries on one side, and charging horsemen on the other. This battle was far from over, but it was not looking good for the Sons of Grungni.

All the while, a pair of hazel eyes watched from the tree tops. She was dressed in worn leathers, and had a longbow in her hands. She watched the dawi, and wondered to herself;

‘Are these my people?’

 

Kregan roared and brought his hammers down upon a defeated legionary’s head, crushing it to a pulpy mess, before he turned his attention to the charging horsemen, snarling throughout it all.

The dwarf lord charged towards the enemy cavalry, raising both hammers and lashing out whenever a horseman came too close. His blows would shatter the leg bones of the horses, sending both mount and rider crashing to the earth.

The battle was not going well; they were surrounded on all sides, with foot soldiers occupying his warrior’s attention, and the cavalry smashing into them from behind. A classic hammer and anvil maneuver, and Kregan cursed himself for not building fortifications around his camp as soon as they settled in the clearing earlier that day.

A spear came too close to his face, and only the Thane’s centuries of experience allowed him to react fast enough to dodge the tip. There was no time to worry about what he should have done now. Right now, he needed to end this battle quickly, before his entire Throng was wiped out.

Kregan needed to find the leader, and kill him. Now, which of these umgi was in charge? He wasn’t as familiar with these umgi, but if they were anything like the men of the Empire, then their chief would dress himself as a peacock; those always stood out. Of course, they were Umgi after all; their leaders had no stomach for a real fight, preferring to lead from the rear.

The sounds of approaching hooves coming from the right drew his attention, and he saw an approaching horseman, with a lance aimed at Kregan’s chest, only a few heartbeats away, and closing the distance between them quickly.

Kregan tried to turn to meet this threat, but he was too slow; the lance hit him square in the chest, and while his fine armor prevented the lance from skewering him, the force behind it, that of a charging destrier, sent the dwarf Thane off his feet, and fell with a crash to the ground, all breath knocked out of him, letting go of both his weapons, and hitting his head on the dirt.

Kregan groaned from the pain. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and though his vision was blurry, he saw that the horse and rider had turned around, and was trotting back towards him.

As he struggled to stand up again, two pairs of hands grabbed both of Kregan’s arms, and forced him to his knees. He looked to his left, and then to his right, and saw that two of the enemy were holding him in place, cruel grins on their faces.

The horse stopped in front of him, and the rider dismounted, before kneeling down to get to eye level with Kregan, while a dozen other umgi first surrounded, and then made a shield wall around them. Though his clearing up vision, the thane took in the rider’s face; he was handsome, for an umgi, but it was marred with an expression that was arrogant to the nth degree, and eyes that radiated cruelty.

“So, you’re the leader?” the human said in a condescending tone, “You don’t look like much, but I suppose when you are a race of stunted freaks, you make do with what little you have.”

“Who are ye, and why have you attacked the Sons of Grungni?” Kregan asked.

“Who am I? I’m insulted!’ the umgi said in faux outrage, “Though, being a barbaric demihuman such as yourself, from a less civilized world at that, I really shouldn’t expect you to know who I am in the first place.”

Kregan’s eyes narrowed at the pompous human’s every insult. By the ancestor gods, he’d kill this whelp sooner or later.

“Consider yourself lucky then, for I shall tell you exactly who I am.” he said, smirking all the while, “I am Zorzal, and as of right now, you, and all your… people, are my slaves, and your marvelous war machines are my property.”

“You’re hear for our cannons?” Kregan asked, “That’s why you’ve attacked? That’s why you’ve slain so many of my kin?”

“More or less.” Zorzal admitted casually, “You see, it’s come to my attention that, your weapons of war are actually stronger than those of the Outlanders. I wish to test that theory.”

“The Outlanders…” realization dawned on Kregan’s face, “You’re a Saderan, are ye not?”

“I am more than just a mere Saderan runt.” Zorzal boasted, “I am the Crown Prince of the greatest empire the world, mine or yours, has ever known!”

“Ha!” Kregan laughed, “The greatest Empire in either world was that of my kind, the Dawi! Your society is nothing compared to ours!”

“Empty boasts from a defeated… I was going to say man, but a stunted freak like you? Well, you’re clearly no man.”

“Nay.” Kregan said, “I am a proud dawi, and the blood of mighty warriors flow threw my veins! Mere brackish water flows through yours!”

Zorzal responded by punching Kregan in the face, hard.

“Silence freak!” Zorzal snapped, then he pulled out his knife and pointed the tip at Kregan’s nose, “I will not be talked down to by some demihuman! Now, watch your mouth, lest I order my men to shave that ridiculous beard off your face, like your scout. Then they shall peel the skin from your bones, and mount your head upon a pike!”

Zorzal kept making threats, but Kregan had ceased to listen. Instead, he was slowly becoming furious, as what Zorzal had told him was sinking in.

“You… shaved one of my kin?” he asked, his voice calm.

“That’s what makes you upset?” Zorzal asked, perplexed, “Not the threats of torture and death, but shaving off your dead scout’s beard? Tch, typical demihuman. Your primitive brain cannot comprehend danger.”

“You shaved his beard.” Kregan said again, more statement than question.

“Oh, in the name of the gods- Yes! I shaved his beard!” Zorzal shouted, “I drugged him, made him tell me everything he knew, and then I shaved him, and put his head on a pike!” The Prince explained all this, jabbing the tip of his knife into Kregan’s nose.

Kregan closed his eyes, and then let the anger wash over him.

“That’s what I’m going to do to you as well.” Zorzal explained “And to the rest of your stunted freaks-”

Zorzal never finished his sentence, for it was then that Kregan lifted his head, and spat a glob into Zorzal’s eye. The Prince recoiled, and brought up his free hand to his face.

It was then that Kregan put his plan into action.

His head lunged forward, and he grabbed the blade of Zorzal’s dagger in-between his teeth, yanking it out of the Saderan’s hands and then let it drop. With all his strength, he pulled his left arm out of the soldier’s grip, and using his now free hand, grabbed the falling blade by the handle, flipped it so he was holding it upside down, and then stabbed the man whose grip he had just broken free of in the throat, before quickly pulling it out and then jamming it into the eye socket of the other soldier, driving it deep into his brain, and killing him instantly.

“You shaved his beard!” Kregan roared as Zorzal quickly tried to scurry away, “YOU SHAVED A DAWI’S BEARD!”

“Don’t just stand there!” Zorzal shouted at his men, “Kill him quickly!”

As the prince tried to shove his way past his men, Kregan threw the dagger, and it imbedded itself right between Zorzal’s shoulder blades. With a scream of blood chilling agony, Zorzal dropped to the ground. His soldiers bodily put themselves between Kregan and Zorzal, but the dwarf thane would not let them stand between him, and vengeance.

Quickly, Kregan grabbed the short swords that the humans carried, one in each hand, and charged forward. The dwarf became a whirlwind of death, cutting down every soldier who got in-between him and Zorzal.

In his peripheral vision, Kregan saw several human archers take aim at him with crossbows. When they loosed the bolts, however, a gust of wind blew the missiles away before they had a chance to hit Kregan. Then a stronger gust of wind knocked them off their feet.

Turning around, Kregan saw the Elder Sage, Cato, who gave the thane a knowing nod before returning to the fray. Kregan merely grunted as he returned his own attention to Zorzal.

“Saved by a wizard.” He mumbled, “I’ll never hear the end of it should that get out.”

Zorzal tried to crawl away from Kregan, but to no avail. When he reached the prince, Kregan flipped Zorzal over, straddled the human’s chest, and began to punch Zorzal with his armored fists.

“YOU! SHAVED! HIS! BEARD!” Kregan shouted, his words punctuating his every punch.

“Please! Please!” Zorzal pleaded through broken teeth as Kregan let up, his face now a bloody mess, “Spare me! Spare me and I’ll give you anything!”

“Anything?” Kregan asked as he got off Zorzal.

“Yes! Anything! Just name it!”

“Anything eh?” Kregan then picked up one of the short swords and put it to Zorzal’s throat.

“Can you bring my kin back to life?”

“I-I-” Zorzal stuttered.

“If ye can’t…” Kregan began as he gripped the hilt of the sword with both hands, “Then what good are ye!”

Kregan then brought the sword down and stabbed Zorzal through the throat, and then began hacking at Zorzal’s neck until he finally beheaded the prince.

Picking up Zorzal’s head by his blond hair, Kregan raised it into the air, and let loose a loud battle cry.

“Khazukan Kazakit-ha!” he roared, “Dawi! My brothers and my kinsmen! Their leader is dead! And soon, they will all follow! Drive them back, and send them all to hell!”

The dawi let out a cheer, and began counterattacking with wild abandon. Axes, hammers, and swords crashed against the Saderans, and the human soldiers were unable to withstand the ferocity of the dawi. The hammer of the cavalry, and the anvil of the infantry, had failed to break the dwarfs, and now, they were paying in blood for their attack.

In addition, it was not just the dwarfs who now knew of Zorzal’s death. Many legionaries and horsemen saw Kregan holding their prince’s head. Their morale sunk, and their fear grew. Many began to break and run, and the dawi took advantage of this, driving them back into the woods.

Tyuule saw all this as well, and despite the glee she felt at Zorzal’s passing, she knew she needed to get her warriors out of there.

“Alice!” she shouted to one of her officers. The grey furred rabbit approached the former queen, dropping to one knee.

“Yes mistress?”

“Zorzal is dead; now is the time to retreat. Find General Aurelias, the next in command, and get him out of here.”

“My mistress, why should we be concerned about the Saderan’s now? With Zorzal dead, we can-”

“The Emperor still has the leverage over us. We are still chained to his will, and unless at least one general survives this, then our sister’s lives are forfeit; now go!”

“Yes mistress!”

Alice left, and before she herself fled into the woods, Tyuule spared one last look at the dwarf leader.

“I hope that one day, I can properly thank you.” She said, “One day… but not today.”

With that, she fled, and soon afterwards, the rest of the Saderans followed.

===

“How many did we lose?” Kregan asked as he knelt down to a corpse of one of his throng.

“A thousand dwarfs.” Dron explained, as he stood next to his Thane, Cato to the longboard’s right, “And several hundred are wounded.”

“Damn.” Kregan cursed, “We won’t survive another assault when they return. They wanted our cannons, to use against the Men of the Empire. What of our cannons Dron? Did they survive the night?”

“They survived the fight Thane Kregan, along with the ammunition and black powder.”

“Good. We’ll use them tomorrow, when the enemy comes again. If they want them so badly, then they’ll have them! We may die, but we’ll send the bastards to hell first!”

“You don’t have to die.” A soft voice said, “I know an escape route.”

The two dwarfs and a mage turned around, and were greeted with a shocking sight. Standing before them, dressed in animal skin leathers, was a female dwarf, with long red hair, and leaf green eyes. At her waist were two hatchets, and slung across her back was a bow and quiver full of arrows. This dwarf was accustomed to living in the woods, and she carried herself with a confidence born of experience. Behind her was a crowd of the curious warriors of Kregan’s Throng.

As for Kregan himself, his mouth was hanging open at the sight of the dwarf woman, and for once he could find no words to say.

“My name is Dolvona, of the Storm Ram Tribe.” She said, “And I hear, Thane Kregan, that you are looking for what the Saderans call ‘the Nomad Dwarves.’ Is that right?”

She then smiled and shrugged.

“Well then, Thane Kregan, I guess you found me.”