Lifting the tankard to his lips and angling the container so its contents would pour into his mouth. The beer was flat and almost tasteless, might as well just be colored water thought Logri Boulderfist with distaste, typical manling swill. Setting the mug down and giving out a loud belch, the dwarf contemptuously looked around the pitiable excuse of a tavern as the gazes of several humans quickly averted their attention from him.
The taproom would be quite dim by the weak-sighted standards of the umgi, but for one of the deep dwelling Dawi, it might as well be bright as day, the place smelled of cheap burning tobacco, old sweat, vomit and even the fain smell of blood. Around Logri, there were several scruffy and ragged looking groups of humans with many keeping a hand close to their weapons. Normally, such would be a wise thing for in the Border Princes where men, just like anywhere else really, fought amongst each other as much as they did with the greenskins.
Many of the humans looked to Logri in a predatory manner; they likely thought that the dwarf was carrying a lot of gold on him, especially with the heavy sack of camping gear which lay beside his chair. It would not be the first time others would make the mistake, nor would it be the last. What made the humans think twice was the loaded heavy crossbow and great rune axe Grobmaraz, which lay beside his helmet upon the wooden table.
Taking another gulp of his foul drink, Logri looked to the humans, his eyes daring them to try robbing him, when none of them rose to the bait, the dwarf snorted with satisfaction. The Longbeard disliked being in such a seedy den of cut throats and renegades who would murder each other for a few pfennigs.
The only reason why he was here was because some lordling here in the Border Princes actually sent a request for aid to his clan at Khazid-Zon. And the only reason why Logri's clan bothered to even send a reply was because the human lord had invoked an Oath which was sworn to one of the man's ancestors, an Oath which was sworn by Logri himself nearly two centuries ago in the years following the Great War.
Typical manlings he thought with disdain, they actually bother to remembers oaths and promises when it benefited them (not that he actually forgot it). But the moment it becomes an inconvenience, they are quick to forget that such a thing even existed and would even try to worm their way out of it. Still, a promise is a promise and it would be unbecoming of one of the Dawi to not honour their Oaths, especially one he made.
At the moment, Logri was waiting for some flunkies of the lordling who were supposed to escort the dwarf. Currently, they were late and for all he knew, they could have been eaten by grobi already. With a snort of disdain Logri raised his tankard up to his lips and he finished his drink, setting the mug down, he was about to order another tankard of the poor beer before sunlight suddenly began to fill the taproom and the bell at the front door rang.
Looking towards the front door, Logri and several of the humans who were reaching for their weapons saw a trio of men at the door way. Two of the men had a scarred and grizzled look as they were clad in well maintained suits of chain armor, red tabards depicting a golden crown with a hammer and sword behind it, the same seal which had been stamped upon the letter to his clan. Each man wore a Bretonnian-styled sallet helmet; both were armed with Tilean Pikes which looked to be quite deadly.
The last man was overdressed fop wearing a gilded breastplate which as clearly for show. The man had big red hat with a white bird's feather on top, similar to the ones used by the Imperial Greatswords. The man's garments were of the Imperial striped pattern with the colors of cream and red and he had pitiable excuse of a beard which was just a thin strip under his lip and over the chin.
The third man looked about the tavern with disdain; he used his right hand to pull out a white handkerchief from one of his pockets and covered his nose and mouth. Eventually he saw Logri and he waved to the dwarf, must be his escort then he thought. Grabbing his crossbow and axe, he hopped off of the chair which was clearly made for human use, Logri landed upon the straw filled wooden boards with a groan from the wood and a loud clatter from his plate mail armor.
Putting on his helmet and lifting up the sack, he made his way passed the humans who still looked like they wanted to rob Morik, the dwarf tightened his grip upon his axe. The foppish looking human kept his gaze upon the dwarf as he still covered part of his face with the white handkerchief. Soon arriving at the front door, Morik heard the human speak.
'Guttentag herr dwarf' the man said as he lowered his handkerchief and raised his left hand towards Morik in greeting. While Reikspiel was not really Logri's first language, he knew it well enough and he raised his right hand and grasped the human's own.
With a firm shake to which made the man wince, the dwarf nodded 'Greetings human.' As Logri let go of the man's hand, the human then straightened and looked as if he were about to give a speech.
'I am Prince Eckhart Engelmann I, son of Emperor Wilhelm Engelmann of the Grand Empire of Engelschlosse!' said the human quite proudly while addressing not only Morik but also the men around the tavern.
'Logri Boulderfist of Khazid-Zon' nodded the dwarf curtly while trying to hide his disdain for he was surely dealing with another bloody typical Border Prince with an over inflated opinion of himself.
The human's lips curled slightly in distaste, he then continued in polite but rather sycophantic tone 'may we perhaps continue this outside, Herr Boulderfist?'
With a shrug Morik replied 'sure lets go manling.'
Stepping outside of the tavern, it would have been nice to breathe the fresh open air if it weren't for the smell of animal shit from the stables nearby. The late morning sun was already high in the cloudless sky; the weather was a bit too warm for Logri who began to sweat a little under his armor. The ground outside the tavern was enclosed by a shoddy stone wall of human-make which the dwarf supposed would be defensible enough against a few greenskins, but against a troll though, the inhabitants would pretty much doomed.
The two bodyguards had made way for the dwarf and the human who had proclaimed himself as a "Prince". Outside there were four more men of whom were also wearing suits of chainmail armor and tabard of red while armed with pikes. A strong looking horse waited patiently ahead of them as it pawed the cobbled earth most likely the human leader's mount.
'Shall we await for the rest of you war band Herr Boulderfist?' asked the human leader as he walked towards his horse with Logri behind the man.
'Just me manling' replied Morik to which the human quickly turned about with a look of surprise on his face.
'Just you!?' he asked with disbelief 'surely your clan had read my father's letter!? Couldn't they have sent more of you?'
'It was my Oath manling' Logri replied once more with a serious tone 'so it is my duty to fulfill that Oath.'
'I see…' muttered the human leader uneasily as he turned back towards his horse while the pike men formed a defensive formation.
Logri knew well enough about the letter the lordling's father had sent. It seemed that this "Emperor" had recently lost some valuable heirloom which was stolen by another Border Prince. While he wouldn't be surprised if this heirloom turned out to be some piece of junk, Logri was honour bound to retrieve this item, no matter the cost.
It was not like Logri had not come unprepared though. Having fought amongst the Throngs of his people amongst the regiments of Warriors, Rangers and more recently the Longbeards, Logri was a veteran of more than two centuries of battle and war.
The group of men and the dwarf traveled on with little words passing amongst them as each one warily eyed the surrounding grasslands for any possible greenskins. In the dangerous lands of the Border Princes, the hateful grobi and their wolf riders were among the many common threats, there was also the possibility of packs of squigs and swarms of snotlings which could also prove to be dangerous to the unwary. Eventually, after four hours of travelling and seeing nothing but grass, sky, the occasional tree and farmstead, the party finally arrived in the "Grand Capital" of Engelschlosse.
Around the "Capital" were the many rotted stumps of trees which had once certainly formed a forest around these parts, past the stumps were the fields of crops with vegetables and grain which did not look too healthy. From a distance, the "Capital" itself was from what Logri could see, the usual fortified town with a stone and wood palisade around it. At the center of the town upon a hill, there was a cheap looking stronghold of human craftsmanship which looked to mostly be made of stone.
Drawing closer upon Engelschlosse, Logri saw someone lifting up a banner and waving it around, he then heard the scrape as the princeling's sword was removed from its scabbard. The human lord then raised his sword up in salute and the gates soon began to open. Emerging from the gates were several more human soldiers who were armed and armored in a similar manner as the ones around him.
The halberd armed men formed two lines with enough space between them for eight men to walk abreast. Saluting their prince with their left hands raised in a perfectly diagonal line while their right hands grasped the shafts of their weapons. Hardly impressed by this display, Logri was quickly assailed by the usual stink which wafted from human settlements.
Entering the settlement along with the princeling's guards, the Longbeard was not surprised on what he found. Like many principalities within the Border Princes, Engelschlosse was a dirt strewn series of flimsy hovels and huts with roofs of mud and thatch with a single castle (if it can even be called such) at the center. He saw several skinny looking children (or at least what passed for skinny amongst humans) dressed in rags and playing around barefoot in the dirt as they chased rats, pigs, chickens and other animals which ran freely on the streets.
The eyes of many of the humans fell upon Logri as if they have never even seen a dwarf before. Many had a lean and hungry looks which reminded the dwarf of the unbelievably poverty stricken peasantry in Bretonnia. Judging by the clothes of the princeling and the quality of the war gear for the principality's soldiery, Logri had a good guess where most of this place's money goes.
Glancing up at the princeling, he noted the disdain in the man's eyes as he covered his mouth and nose again with the handkerchief as he rode by. Several peasants seemed to be giving the human respectful greetings and gestures which looked more than a bit forced. He would not be surprised as well if the lord of this place ruled with an iron fist.
Finally escorted to the castle walls which at the least had a semblance of a crude stone road, Logri supposed the place seemed barely sturdy despite seeing the gates of wood and iron which had a number of spots which seemed out of place. He noted the old and weathered quality of the stone and he could clearly tell that this castle must have been here for a while. There must have been a siege or two in the past for he could see the slapdash nature of the repairs which were made.
Passing through the gate and moving up the hill, Logri saw a party of five human soldiers equipped with gleaming steel plate armor and armed with great swords standing at the ready in front of the keep's gates. The five men saluted the princeling as well with one of them, a broad and bearded human wearing the puffy sleeves and trousers of red and cream. The man hailed to them in the kind of respectful tone that money buys 'Welcome back Prince Eckhart'.
'It is good to be home Captain Halson' replied the princeling in an imperious tone 'does my father await our guest?'
'Indeed my lord' nodded the captain 'his majesty awaits in his throne room'
Seated upon a throne on a raised dais, the lord of Engelshclosse "Emperor" Wilhelm Engelmann I regarded Logri with a somewhat curious look as he smoked from an Arabyan hookah. The human lord's throne room was garishly decorated with tapestries and rugs of a Bretonnian or Tilean origin, his brightly colored clothes were just as ostentatious.
Around the hall, there were over a dozen other courtiers as well a multiple armed guards. Many among the former were casting calculating looking towards Logri, he guessed many of them would be wondering how they could use his presence to their advantage. No Border Prince's court would be complete without a nest of vipers he wagered.
Judging by the human lord's girth as well, Logri also had a good idea where most of the principality's food went.
'Welcome to my humble abode!' spoke the "Emperor" as he swept up his hands while trying to sound regal 'I hope your sojourn is most fortuitous herr dwarf?'
'Fine as it could be I suppose' shrugged Logri who then asked 'so what's this trinket you need help getting back, manling?'
Hearing gasps of shock from his rather blunt manner in addressing their liege, Logri noted the way a number of the guards raised their weapons with more than a few taking a step forward. Looking back to the human lord who raised his hand, he signaled for his guards to stand down. There was a look of annoyance on the lordling's face who then continued while trying to sound rather authoritative and regal at the same time.
'The heirloom, yes…' the man said 'a month ago, a once valued member of my court had betrayed our glorious empire and had not only deserted us, but the coward had also stolen something of great value to me'
'And what would this item be?' asked Logri.
'It is an idol herr Boulderfist' replied the lord 'an idol which had brought great fortune to our empire and without it, we will surely have some hard times ahead.'
'Right, so where is it?' asked the dwarf who was somewhat expecting this idol to now be in some forgotten ruins which would be infested by monsters.
'It is to the south of the capital' said the "Emperor" 'within an ancient ruin surrounded by great statues of beastmen'
'Sounds Nehekharan' replied Logri whose words drew expressions of surprise from the courtiers.
'Impossible!' shouted one man amongst the court 'Nehekhara is just a fable! A story told to frighten children! Even if it did exist, it would be far away from here!'
Typical manlings thought Logri with disdain, they thought they knew everything about the world and what they do not know, they dismiss as merely stories or impossibilities. Hardly do they bother to ask those whose memories span the millennia, those whose empire once ruled over this land.
'That's enough out of you Karl' commanded the human lord towards the man who spoke out, the man bowed in apology.
'I mean no offense my lord, and to you herr dwarf' said the man in a none-too honest apology.
Looking back to the human lord, Logri asked 'if you know where this idol was, why didn't you send your men to get it back then?'
'Err well there is a complication with that you see' replied the "Emperor" a bit uncomfortably 'the thief who stole it was my… court wizard'
'So? It's just one mageling, what are you all scared of?' spoke Logri a bit mockingly for he had killed quite a few mages in the past, specifically of the greenskin, ogre, undead, ratkin, chaotic and once even of the elf variety.
A look of further annoyance was etched on "Emperor" Wilhelm's and the guards once more readied their weapons and took a step forwards. Tightening his grip upon the rune axe and getting ready to move shift into defensive stance, Logri heard the voice of the human lord call out to his subjects and ordered them to stand down. It was clear from the man's tone though that the command was given with much hesitation.
'I shall be blunt then herr Boulderfist' said the "Emperor" while trying to mask his annoyance 'we need someone who is not afraid of the traitorous witch's magic.'
'Ah so you need someone who can resist magic then' said Logri for his people had a natural resistance against sorcery.
'Yes that is mainly just it' nodded the human lord who, his next words though were spoken with great reluctance 'you will be compensated for you efforts though, a fifty gold crowns upon the return of the idol'
At the mention of gold, Logri tried to suppress the grin on his face. His annoyance at this quest had quickly evaporated and immediately he was eager to get the job done. This idol that was stolen must be very valuable thought Logri to be paid so much… or perhaps that the human lord would attempt to arrange for an "accident" to happen to the dwarf.
The last thought quickly turned his eagerness sour for such treachery would not be unusual within the Border Princes. He supposed that he could hide the idol someplace, get the money, tell them where to find it and get out if it came to betrayal from the human's part. With a nod to the human lord, Logri agreed to the man's quest.
The following morning, Logri Boulderfist left the capital with a map and some general directions on where he needed to go. Keeping his eyes and ears open for any greenskins while his axe was rested upon his right shoulder, the dwarf made good progress in his journey. Eventually when night fell, the dwarf made camp alone on the grassy plains.
Puffing a ring of smoke as he supped on a polished squig-bone pipe which was fashioned into a small drakk, Logri looked to the campfire in front of him. The small inferno bathed the dwarf in a comforting glow of warmth and light. Upon his lap, he had unfolded a clean piece of cloth with a sandwich of goat cheese and cured ham in it.
There was also the leather skin of good dwarf beer in it so all in all; Logri had all he could want during a hike. As he continued to smoke and stare into the fires, he remembered the Oath he had made to Wilhelm's ancestor. The fires reminded him of that battle centuries ago, he remembered the warcries of the northern savages, their fearsome visages and the many atrocities they would commit in honor of the Dark Gods.
Looking to Grobmaraz which was etched with mighty runes, he remembered the day of that Oath and to the man he had sworn it to.
'Khazuk!' roared Logri Durakson as he ripped open the belly of a Kurgan with his war axe. 'Khazuk! He roared once more as he blocked as maruader's sword with his shield as he completely severed the northman's right bare right leg from thigh. Spattered from head to toe in gore and surrounded by several dead northmen, the dwarf warrior looked towards his remaining foes with grudge-born fury.
Alongside the dwarf, there were several Imperial White Wolves who fought with nearly the same berserk fury as the Kurgans, their warcries were wordless howls likes those of wolves. While most of the Middenheimers were armed with mauls, their leader wielded a double bladed rune-axe of dwarf craftsmanship. An axe forged and imbued by one of Logri's ancestors during the Time of Woes and lost in the years after the Vampire Wars, an axe Logri Durakson was sworn to reclaim, an axe named Grobmaraz.
Stomping his hobnailed boot over the head of a northman and crushing it like an overripe melon, the dwarf knew the battle was going well. For years he had been searching for leads in regards to its location, he had heard many tales from the impressive to the outright impossible about heroes who wielded it to slay evil. Eventually, he had learned that the axe came into the possession of the Knights of the White Wolves, and that a knight by the name of Mathias Engelmann was now its current owner, a knight who was currently now fighting for his life.
So close to his goal now, Logri would be damned if he died now. Grunting in pain as a northman axe struck his left pauldron, the dwarf felt pain shoot across his shoulder as the bone jarring force struck it. With a counterattack of his own, the dwarf swung his axe up between the kurgan's legs and the blade perfectly cleaved the northman's tender parts and eliciting a comically high pitched shriek from the tainted human.
It was by luck really that the dwarf had bumped into the knights who were on patrol, hunting for the remnants of Asavar Kul's army. Logri had been on his way to the Kislevite city of Erengrad before this attack happened. The battle had long and bloody and the Kurgan outnumbered them two to one, but the White Wolves fought with a perfect balance of savagery and discipline which allowed them to overcome the marauders.
Blocking the mace of the Aspiring Champion that led this band of marauders, Logri buried his axe into the kurgan's exposed gut which was ripped with muscles underneath the flesh. With a swift tug, the dwarf tore the chaos worshipper's belly open , blood and entrails spilled out and yet still the man fought on. Entering a state of berserk fury, the Aspiring Champion swung his mace down towards Logri who managed to block it again but not before the kurgan's sword slashed across the dwarf's mailed chest.
Several links of chain mail armor were broken off by the sheer impact; it was testament to good dwarf craftsmanship that the blade did not cut into his flesh. Still though, the force of the strike made it feel like Logri had been punched by an orc. Knocked back by the attack, Logri quickly recovered in time to smash his shield into the kurgan with enough force to stagger the larger man.
Quickly on the assault, Logri delivered an overhead chop towards the kurgan's tattooed left chest. Dwarf-forged steel cut into corrupted flesh and the blade cleaved through the Aspiring Champion's heart. The kurgan was instantly killed and he fell upon his back with the axe still lodged in his chest.
Breathing heavily and surveying the area around him, Logri saw the last of the marauder's fall to the White Wolves. A good fight thought the dwarf, but now on to his task. Pulling his axe out of the dead chaos warrior as the White Wolves tended to their wounded, it took the dwarf a few good tugs before he finally freed his weapons.
Moving towards the lead knight, the man looked to Logri and spoke while still trying to catch his breath 'Well fought brother dwarf!'
'Aye, a good fight it was manling' replied Logri 'unfortunately, that axe of yours belongs to my clan and I need to take it back.'
His words drew many surprised looks from the Wolf Knights. The axe according to what Logri had learned, was now considered a revered to the Order of the White Wolves, they were unlikely to hand it over willingly.
'You clan?' asked the human knight in confusion 'Winterscorn has belonged to our Order for centuries! We cant just give away one of our sacred relics.' Words of agreement followed the men and soon it seemed that the humans would turn their weapons upon Logri.
'I can prove it' replied the dwarf who then took a step forwards and the lead knight ordered his battle brothers to stand down. Reverently intoning a prayer to Grimnir, Logri spoke several runic words which had been passed down for generations amongst his clan. The runes upon Grobmaraz began to brilliantly shine in a white light, eliciting a series of surprised gasps from the human warriors, all except for the leader who stared at the axe.
'It wishes to return to its makers' the man said a bit sadly as he handed shaft towards Logri 'it is yours then brother dwarf.'
Shocked by the human's willingness to give up such a weapon, Logri began to feel almost ashamed to reclaim it. Gently taking the weapon, Logri then looked to the man and spoke with gravitas and solemn reverence.
'My gratitude to you then, human' said the dwarf 'know that I Logri Boulderfist of the Sky Hearth Clan swear upon this day that call you Dawongi, dwarf-friend. Upon this day I swear that in recompense for this deed, I or one of my descendants will be Oath-bound to retrieve for you or one of your bloodline, a single item of great value.'
'I shall hold you then to that Oath friend' replied the human knight as he placed his right fist over his heart, a gesture of respect towards the dwarf.
Logri had been a young and impressionable beardling in those days. In the two centuries that followed, he had seen the generations of Men come and go. His opinion of the manlings had fallen since then as he spent some time traveling around the Old World and finding how easily Men fell to darkness.
He had seen Men fall to the lures of Chaos in the dark cults which hid within the "civilized" realms. He had seen Men cavort with other evils such blood drinkers and the ratkin in a bid for power. He had seen the petty cruelties and infighting Men displayed towards one another when no common enemy could be found.
He had seen their foolishness as they turned to fanaticism and madness when fighting against the Ruinous powers. He had seen their willful ignorance and denials towards the existence of the skaven. It amazed him really how their race had managed to survive for so long.
Taking another deep breath of smoke as the tobacco in his pipe continued to burn, Logri Boulderfist continued to stare into the fires in deep thought until he had finally managed to get some sleep.
Looking up to the giant statues which depicted men with the heads of animals, Logri nodded and knew that it was Nehekharan for sure. He saw one weathered statue of a man with the head of a jackal, another with the head of a hawk, a vulture, and a woman with the head of a snake. He wondered if this place had once been an outpost of their people because a number of such places were scattered across the Border Princes.
The statues stood in silent vigil upon the four corners of as a crumbling square shaped structure which looked even worse for wear. Hardly impressed by the size of the statues, Logri had seen many grander such as in Karak Kadrin or Karaz-a-Karak. Still, he supposed by the standards of manlings, such a feat of architecture would be impressive.
Despite the hot noon day sun, there was an unnatural chill in the air which Logri could feel, sorcery he knew by instinct. The former court wizard must be performing some sort of spell he reckoned. Best use his crossbow and give the bugger a bolt in the gut before he can start spout some hocus pocus.
Cautiously advancing with Grobmaraz upon his back and the crossbow in both hands, the dwarf easily found the entrance to the structure of which was strewn with rubble. With a deep breath, Logri advanced into the halls of the structure, his steps echoed across the corridors as his plate armor clattered. So much for surprise he thought.
While most of the halls were dark, there were a few beams of sunlight shining through the cracks on the ceiling here and there. Not that Logri actually needed it though for like all dwarfs, he was quite accustomed to seeing in the dark. The air grew even colder inside the seemingly abandoned structure, amidst the silence; he heard whispers at the edge of his hearing.
Many voices spoke words in a tongue Logri knew not of, he could not tell if they were words of warning, threats, pleading or cursing. Ignoring the whispering voices with grunt, Logri carried on for he had experience in dealing with such things in battle against the servants of Chaos. It did not take long for the dwarf to eventually find the sorcerer and the idol he sought.
Inside a wide chamber within the center of the structure, Logri saw the back of a dark skinned human woman dressed in a tattered and filthy dress as she held up her arms which were covered in golden bracelets and chanted in a strange arcane tongue. The idol which he sought was placed upon a stone pedestal which was carved with images like in a mural; a golden orb of light surrounded the idol. With a quiet prayer to Valaya, Logri stepped into the chamber with his weapon at the ready.
'Oi! Witch!' shouted Logri as he kept his right finger by the trigger. For a moment, the witch continued before she slowly lowered her hands and ceased her spell. The human then slowly turned around to face Logri, the witch's eyes were darkly rimmed and there was a look of exhaustion upon her.
'You seek the idol dwarf?' asked the witch in a calm manner which was tinged with weariness.
'Don't you try any of that funny magic stuff on me witch' hissed Logri in a threatening manner 'I am just here to get that there trinket, no one needs to die today'
The witch's studied Logri with tired eyes, the human did not seem to register or care for the crossbow that was pointed at her. 'Take it then, dwarf' she said wearily as she lifted her left arm towards the idol which looked to be made from gold 'justice shall be done, one way or another.'
Curious at this, Logri knew that the witch had likely done something to the object he sought 'you put a hex on it, didn't you?' questioned the dwarf.
Shaking her head, the witch replied 'No curse has been put upon it dwarf, I had only… fixed it.'
Quite unsure of the human's words, Logri didn't quite believe the witch, he then asked with skepticism 'So what? No being eaten by beetles or exploding inside out if I touch it?'
'I swear by Phakth that no such harm will fall upon you if you touch it' spoke the witch who gently wrapped slim fingers upon. Lightly lifting the idol which seemed to be of little weight in the witch's hands she then tossed it towards Logri. Letting his left hand go of the crossbow, the dwarf perfectly caught the idol in his gauntleted left hand.
Looking to the witch with suspicion, the woman simply gave a bow to the dwarf. Quite unsure as of what was going on, Logri decided to take the idol back to Engelschlosse. Casting another suspicious look towards the witch, the dwarf stepped away back into the darkened halls.
Looking upon the idol which was certainly made from pure gold, Logri knew that by now he should be in the throes of Goldfever. And yet, there was something which just seemed… wrong about it, something which set off alarms at the back of his mind and it made him think twice about returning it. As he stepped out of the entrance and into the sunlight, Logri's eyes were still focused upon the idol before he heard a familiar voice call out.
'Halt right there herr Boulderfist!' commanded the voice of the princeling as he sat upon the back of a horse. Surrounding the princeling, there were a dozen human soldiers armed with pikes and crossbows, all pointed at Logri. Bugrit thought the dwarf who knew that he should have seen this coming.
'Hand me the idol and you may live, dwarf' said "prince" Eckhart.
'Treacherous umgi' muttered Logri with disgust, he then roared 'you want it!? Fine! Take it! My Oath is fulfilled anyway!'
Throwing the idol towards the princeling, he heard the man shout orders to his men in alarm to grab it. The soldiers quickly dropped their weapons and began scrambling to get it, all while Logri stomped off back north towards Khazid-Zon. Although angry at the human, he knew that he should put a grudge on the bastard and his line.
But there was something though which made Logri think that the manling was going to his comeuppance soon. Snorting with disdain, he made his way back to the mountains of his home.
Breathing heavily as blood smeared his once fine garments, Eckhart looked down in triumph as his father sat upon the throne, his eyes wide with fear as the tip of the prince's sword gently pricked the Tyrant's throat. The capital was his now thought Eckhart triumphantly as his bloody coup reached its end.
All of his years of scheming and plotting, the blackmail, bribes and assassinations all of it had finally borne fruit. Now he was the Emperor of Engelschlosse, a new age would begin for their glorious Empire! He never knew what happened to the dwarf who had managed to reclaim the idol. He had also never been able to find that witch Hakim, shame though; he would have liked to have kept that Arabyan around for more than just her magic.
With the idol's power, he would conquer The Border Princes and with it, he would begin an invasion into the Empire. But why stop there? Bretonnia, Tilea, Kislev, even the distant lands of Ulthuan and Cathay would become his. Visions of glory began to fill his mind as an eternal army would sweep across the land and conquer in his name!
A new age would begin, an age where he! Eckhart Engelmann! Would become the Immortal God Emperor of the very world!
Looking upon the pitiful excuse of a city with empty eyes, a lone figure clad in armor of gold and iron stood upon a gilded chariot. Freed of that vile… thing's influence, the creature which had once been a great lord in ancient times was now filled with anger in vengeance. The creature then look to its right to see the one who had freed him, were it still alive it likely would have been quite interested with the sorceress.
Turning its silent gaze back to the city, the creature raised a curved golden sword towards the place. Its mouth opened widely and a loud dry warcry emerged from a throat which had long withered away. Its voice was followed by the dry and silent roars of a great legion clad in gold and iron.
In unison the army marched towards the city, a silent doom which would punish those who in their arrogance, sought to control the ancient king and his undying legion.