Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! Here!
So this is my first crossover fanfiction, so I may get a few things wrong
(Please don't burn me at the stake if I get some lore things wrong.)
Also, first time properly using breaks. Amazing right?
Anyways, I hope you enjoy.
The planet of Mystikos Prime. A thriving agri world, that happily paid the annual tithe to the imperium. Its main exports were fruits and vegetables, vast fields of crops, farmers working happily. Heresy levels were so low, they were practically nonexistent. A shining example of the finest of the Imperium, and systems for light years away tried to replicate the seemingly utopia of Mystikos Prime, but they all failed.
But it all changed, when the Black Legion came.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a warband of Black Legion sorcerers, berserkers, cultists, and monstrous chaos space marines attacked the system, and Mystikos prime. The Black Legion struck, dealing a devastating blow to the PDF, and soon seized control, only for a distress signal to be sent. The shining example of Mystikos Prime had fallen to the ruinous powers. The Imperium responded, by sending not only the closest Imperial Guard Regiment, but the most feared.
The Death Korps of Krieg.
Grenadier 652733-172948 'Klaus' of the 5th Death Korps of Krieg Siege Regiment, charged forward with the rest of his squadron, flanking the setup havoc team, which cackled, as heavy bolters scythed through guardsmen. They rushed out of the building next to the havocs, lighting up the chaos havoc team. The havoc carrying the heavy bolter turned around, and dozens of las beams obliterated the power armor, leaving the corpse inside a charred ruin. The two attendant chaos space marines turned around, firing their bolters. A few grenadiers flew back, the bolters making fist sized holes in their chests, but Klaus did not hesitate, as he fired the hellgun again. The bolt got lucky, hitting the space marine right in the breathing grill, as it fell, completely silent, the las bolt burning a hole through its mouth and neck. The final space marine dove into cover, along with the rest of the grenadiers. Klaus pulled a pin off of his grenade, and chucked it. The chaos marine rolled out of cover, only to be incinerated by a melta. The Grenadiers said no word of solace to their dead comrades, as more Krieg Guardsmen rushed forward, no longer pinned down by the havoc squad. The commissar only nodded to Klaus, and he saluted, clicking his heels, before the squadron once again disappeared through the ruins of the capital city.
Klaus and the grenadiers came across a door, and on the other side, they could hear enemy activity. Klaus held up his hand, showing all five of his gloved fingers. He put his helmet against the wooden door, listening intently.
"Here come the loyalists! Prepared to die, like lambs to the slaughter! Come brothers, let us give them what they wish for!" A voice cackled. Klaus's fingers formed back into a fist, and a grenadier kicked the door down, lighting up the hallway with lasfire. Several cultists screamed, the las fire incinerating their robes, the holes in their heads and vital organs cauterising instantly. A leman russ rolled down the road from the window, only for it to explode, as a lascannon bolt seared through the pilot's cockpit. Klaus only frowned. They should have waited for infantry reinforcement. Klaus then waved the grenadiers forward, as they jumped out of a window, falling five feet to the ground. They knew their mission. A chaos sorcerer and his lackeys were doing foul sorceries, and it was up to the grenadiers to stop them. They crept through the ruins of the city, passing corpses of guardsmen, heretics and civilians alike, silently stabbing the mutants operating the lascannons, as a few squads worth of Guardsmen engaged a squad of chaos space marines. They left the Guardsmen to clean up the rest of the heretics, as the grenadiers breached the lightly guarded church, whistling artillery destroying the streets. A grenadier fell, as shrapnel obliterated his armor, but Klaus did not even glance at his fallen comrade, as they breached the door, killing the chaos space marines that guarded the door. Soon, only Klaus and five of the original twenty grenadiers remained, as they encountered the heretics. The sorcerer and the cultists turned, but the sorcerer only chuckled.
"Keep chanting." The sorcerer barked, and the cultists obeyed, bowing to the dark gods. Klaus pointed at the chanting cultists, and the grenadiers open fired, the cultists squealing as they died. The sorcerer growled.
"Enough of this. If you wish to die, then so be it." He growled, as doombolts flung out of his hand, killing the grenadiers, flesh running like gruel off of their shattered bones. Klaus rolled out of the way, the doombolts obliterating his comrades. Klaus was the only one who had survived, but the sorcerer ignored this, thinking he was on the verge of death. A heavy, almost crushing weight fell upon Klaus, who grasped his bleeding leg. Luckily, his other, prosthetic leg was the one closer to the barrage, and it survived nearly unscathed, although Klaus knew he would have to pray later. The sorcerer began chanting, and a rift from the warp cut through realspace like paper. Klaus growled. A portal. That was what the sorcerer was doing. Klaus slowly creeped forward, ignoring the searing pain in his leg, the seemingly random pressure trying to push him down. But he would not comply. For he was Krieg, and Krieg never surrendered. They would rather die. He threw down his now useless hellgun, taking a lasgun from a fallen grenadier, creeping forward. He was within striking distance, but the gun would not fire. Finally, the foolish sorcerer turned around and squealed.
"FOOL! If you kill me, then we will all be swallowed by the warp!" The sorcerer squealed, for now he knew he was trapped. If he tried to even for a split second, take his attention off the portal, it would explode, killing them all.
"DON'T DO IT!" The sorcerer yelped, as Klaus came closer and closer. Finally, he plunged the bayonet into the sorcerer's stomach.
"ARROGANT LOYALIST! WE WILL ALL DIE FOR YOUR INSOLENCE!" The sorcerer sputtered, the rift squealing, the sound like forks on china plates, but Klaus leaned into the filthy heretic, digging the bayonet deeper, digging into the heretics spinal cord, before he ripped the lasgun out, putting the strap over his back.
"Then so be it." Klaus whispered, as the rift imploded, sucking them both into the warp rift.
Klaus drifted through the warp. He did not dare to open his eyes, as he felt daemons touch him, slavering over him, even though he was fully dressed in greatcoat and carapace armor, Klaus shivered at their touch. They whispered things into his ears. Like wolves set on a babe, they circled around him, snapping at his body. Any lesser man would have been insane at this point, but Klaus would give the foul daemons no satisfaction. He floated through nothingness, almost like in the vacuum of space. Klaus started to recite prayers to the emperor. The daemons squealed and snarled at him as he prayed. Klaus on the inside was smiling. Let the foul daemons squirm. If they wanted to devour him, then he would die with holy prayers on his lips, praying that he would be at the emperor's side when he died. He knew that he would die. Not only was he in the warp, but he was a grenadier. A grenadier's life was to die, it was his duty, his mission, to die for the emperor, and for mankind, fighting back the mutants, xenos, and heretics that laid siege to the Imperium of Man. Suddenly, he felt something tug at him, but it was no daemon. The daemons howled, and for once in his life, Klaus was confused. Daemons were not known to spare their victims. Perhaps a bigger daemon had taken him, or worse yet, the foul, dark, gods? Then he had been knocked unconscious, the last feeling he felt was the impact of solid ground.
The merchant caravan was crawling along rather slowly. Haylee Brandon let out a sigh, idly looking through a spellbook. They had found an ancient tomb, and after pilfering it of artifacts, they were returning to Theramore, the human stronghold of Kalimdor. Surely, the artifacts would prove to be of interest to plenty of merchants. The caravan of ten humans, dwarves, and high elves sat idly, the mules taking their sweet ass time (Eyy, that's pretty good. Don't kill me.)
"Whatcha lookin at laddie?" Irondus Dirgeore said, sitting next to her. She sighed. Dwarves could be so nosey sometimes, although she knew Gnomes were even worse.
"It's goddamn boring around here." She sighed, Irondus let out a little chuckle, gesturing that he wanted to look at the spellbook. She obliged, handing the spellbook to him. He flipped through the pages, grinning.
"What's so funny?" She demanded, slightly blushing. The dwarf gave her a toothy grin, before looking back at the spellbook, casually flipping through the pages.
"You better watch out. These days, they ain't just conscripting men to fight the horde and legion these days. Maybe things will be less boring, when yer cleaving an orcs head off." He chuckled, before a particular page spiked his interest. He peered at it hard, Haylee looking down at the dwarf.
"What is it?" She asked casually, Irondus stroking his red beard, who he kept in prestigious condition, filled with braids and beads.
"Look at this." He said, showing the page in the spellbook. She looked at the symbol, which looked like a double headed eagle, along with it, was an eight pointed star.
"What's so interesting?" She said, Irondus sighed, looking at the symbol, trying to decipher the words underneath.
"I've been looting these ancient temples for ten years. I have never seen a symbol like this before." He replied. Now Haylee was thinking about it. Surely a dwarf with such amounts of experience would have seen something like it, but why, out out of all things, would have it been in a spellbook? The spellbook itself was filled with rather boring spells, the usual, but this caught her off guard.
"Does it say anything underneath it?" She asked. Irondus nodded, before he started saying something.
"Ut veniat tempus advenerit, et in suam. Purgandos immundus et profanus ut ardeam, proditores occidendum. Utriusque partis Azeroth sit amet, sub vexillo una. Vexillo iustitiae. Surge, iuvenes, quia venit tempus. Surge, et ducunt." He repeated, a look of confusion on his face.. Suddenly, the air got heavier and colder, the sky darker. The mules screeched, coming to a sudden halt. Something was definitely amiss here.
"What have you done?" Haylee squealed, as aside the caravan, a gaping maw to a realm unknown opened, squealing horribly. A creature fell out of the rift, the portal sealing shut behind it. Irondus raised his axe, and the rest of the caravan took out their weapons, all looking at the thing. The thing did not rise, and it didn't even look like it was moving. Irondus leaped out of the cart, and came closer and closer, brandishing the axe.
"Wait! Don't kill it!" Haylee demanded, as she came to Irondus's side. The merchants and traders looked down at the fallen figure, before Haylee prodded it with her shoe. It didn't even move.
"Why dun we lift em up?" Irondus said, as the merchants carefully lifted the thing up, setting it down on a pile of hay.
"What… what is that?" Kevin Browning asked, and they all murmured in agreement. A skull face mask glared back at them, still not moving. It was dressed in a thick black trench coat, armor plating on its chest, knees and shoulders. Gold tinted lenses stared idly back at the merchants, a thick tube coming out of the mask, snaking along its shoulder and down its back. A small backpack was attached to its back, and a strange looking weapon was carried on its back. Haylee pushed back the greatcoats sleeve, and the undergarments, putting her fingers on its pale wrist.
"Well whatever it is, it's alive." She declared, this got the group even more anxious.
"Unconscious?" Irondus asked her. She shrugged, looking at the masked creature.
"That's what I would think." Haylee responded. The merchants looked amongst each other, trying to figure out what to do. The sky returned to its normal color, and slowly, the heavy and cold air lightened up, and became hotter once more.
"We kill it?" Kevin asked, but they weren't too sure.
"Maybe we turn hand it over to a mage, or something. Maybe they would know what this thing is?" Irondus suggested. Most of the merchants could agree with this, and lowered their weapons. The only one who didn't was Kevin, still holding his ornate spear at the things throat.
"Lets take off its mask before we do anything. I wouldn't want to spare anything that I don't know what it is." Kevin suggested. At this, the merchants agreed with this as well. Haylee sighed, slipping her fingers over the helmet, carefully taking it off. They were greeted with jet black hair, with several grey patches. Haylee kept going lower, as she played with the straps that held the mask against its face, until finally, the straps loosened up, and slipped off. They gasped. What greeted them was a teenager, still asleep.
"A lil boy?" Irondus said in wonder, the merchants still gaping. They had expected a demon of some sorts, or maybe a spirit or something, but not a… teenager…
"Well… Get the caravan moving. I say we give him to proudmoore, and see maybe she would see what to do." Kevin suggested. Jaina Proudmoore was one of the most wisest mages in the entire alliance. Perhaps she had seen this strange… thing… before.
Klaus opened his eyes groggily. By the emperor himself, did he feel awful. He just felt like he got run over by a baneblade, and then shot with a demolisher cannon. He rubbed his eyes, and then he realised that he was rubbing his eyes, and not the lenses of his gasmask. He took a quick breath, and instead of the familiar, and comfortable metallic tinge to the air, he gulped in fresh, clean air. A rare occurrence to encounter in the Imperium. He slowly rose, looking at the area around him. He glanced at beautiful forests, small tranquil rivers running through the ground. Beautiful flowers gleamed at him, begging for him to play with them. Woodland critters glanced at him, before moving on. A stag in particular was bold and got close, but Klaus only stared at it with his bland glance, and it walked away.
"He's awake!" A voice said, and then Klaus realised that not only was he moving, but he was in a cart, moving along slowly. He looked around, the sunlight blinding him. He shielded his eyes, before he saw who was talking to him. A fair woman glanced at him, dressed in civilian clothing. She smiled at him, but he did not return it to him. Then he realised that others were behind him, also humans, but then one thing caught his glance. A foul xeno! It looked like an eldar, mischievous pointed ear humanoids who did nothing but deceive and trick people, all for their own cause. But the key word was looked. It bore no clothing and armor that an eldar would, and its ears weren't as short as an eldars. So he was dealing with heretics, who consorted with xenos. His hand went to his lasgun, when he realized it wasn't there. He went to his combat knife, shovel, anything. They weren't there either.
"Looking for this?" A squat looking abhuman said, lifting his lasgun and satchel. His face remained impassive, but inside, he was seething. How dare these filthy xenos, heretics, and mutants go through his bag! His! He would engage, but he realized that not only was he outnumbered, but they had weapons as well. His training tried to tell him to ignore that fact. He should be killing them, now! So what if he died? It was for the emperor! But logic told him to stay his hand. No doubt his captors would try to interrogate him, and not only that, but he was on an unidentified world. He had no idea what allegiance they were under, although he expected tau. But that was quickly crossed out. The tau would not stand for using wooden carts for transportation.
"What's your name?" The woman asked him. He sighed. He had a plan. For now, he would play along with their game, but when their backs were turned, he would run and escape! Then, he would contact the inquisition, and they would declare exterminatus on these foul traitors. He smiled on the inside, as he would ask to press the BLAM! Button himself.
"I am Grenadier 652733-172948 'Klaus', of the 5th Death Korps of Krieg Siege Regiment" He responded. The assorted heretics looked confused, looking among each other.
"Laddie. We asked for a name, not a number." The squat said.
"Your point being?" Klaus responded, his icy stare catching the squat by surprise. Maybe now, he would shut the frak up.
"How old are you, Klaus?" The woman asked him. Personal information was not as important as Designation Information. If they started asking about his mission, or how he got here, he would not answer.
"Eighteen." He replied calmly, the merchants now gaping, like fish out of the water. This slightly confused Klaus. The Death Korps of Krieg were legend, used to scare children not to do bad things, otherwise, the Death Korps would swoop you up! How had the heretics not heard of him, and more demanding, why weren't they scared of him? He decided they were lacking intelligence.
"And… how did you get here?" She asked. Ah hah! Now his opponent's intentions were revealed! They wanted information out of him! Well he would not answer! Nothing they could do would make him! He gave them that impassive look, hoping that they would frak off. But they didn't. It was like this for ten minutes, until finally, the silence was interrupted.
"We're here!" A merchant yelled, and most of them got out of his line of sight, the woman still sizing him up. Klaus wanted to laugh. The woman had tried to make herself seem intimidating, but she instead looked pathetic. The stupid heretic, but he quickly realized as the caravan was pushed through the gates, that she was staring at him on purpose. She thought that the first chance he could get, he would run off! Well she wasn't wrong, that was his intention. For the first time, he looked around, and realized with escalating horror something was VERY VERY WRONG.
XENOS! XENOS, as far as he could see! HERETICS! MUTANTS! They were everywhere! They lived among each other like they didn't mind! Klaus held off the bile rising to his throat, swallowing it down. He would press that BLAM button until nothing remained of this warp damned planet!
"Alright Heretic! I have had enough of these games! You will tell me where I am, and where the nearest Imperial outpost is, or by the golden throne itself, I will strangle you, along with every xeno and heretic here!" Klaus threatened. The woman didn't even seem shocked! Klaus's face slightly twitched, along with his hands, which were balled into fists. This heretic was either the most bravest, or stupidest heretic he had ever seen! He bit his lips, until blood started dripping from his mouth freely.
"Your uh… Your bleeding." The woman said, but Klaus never even acknowledged her comment, staring at her with pure hatred. His cold blue eyes followed the filthy heretic, as she got off, and… and… offered her hand? Klaus spat in his glove while she wasn't looking, and she took it. The woman seemed slightly repulsed when she felt the saliva all over her filthy hand, as she lowered Klaus to the ground. Klaus wanted to kill her. No, killing her would be too quick. He would TORTURE HER.
Haylee was rather unnerved by the cold and furious glance that Klaus gave her, but she didn't cave in. She still had a duty to do.
"Aye! Kevin told Proudmoore that we had something to show her. I got his satchel. You have the spellbook?" Irondus asked her. Haylee waved it in her hand, and Klaus merely glanced at the spellbook. Irondus looked up to Klaus, and in return, Klaus looked down upon the dwarf.
"Filthy Mutant…" Klaus growled, moving forward, following Haylee. Irondus sighed. Culture Shock at its finest. The three walked along, but Irondus grasped the handle of his axe, more tighter than usual. Sure, their were your average thieves around here, but even then, Klaus didn't seem trustworthy. Although his face was plain, and calm, he could read his emotions like a book. Klaus was angry. Furious. Seething. Irondus hoped that he could defuse the situation, before it got out of hand. They soon reached the fort of the center of the island. The two guards outside halted them.
"We are here to see Jaina Proudmoore." Haylee said simply. When they asked for proof, she handed them a document from Irondus, who had gotten it from Kevin. The two guards glanced at Klaus, clinking their shields, and in return, Klaus slowly gave them that same icy stare. They waved them forward, eager not to see the strange person again.
Jaina reread the reports once again. It seemed nearly impossible, but it happened, no? Apparently, a caravan of merchants, who had "uncovered" a few artifacts from a tomb, were on their way to theramore, when one of them accidentally opened to a portal to an unknown realm, summoned some eighteen year old boy in military gear, and had been silent ever since? Jaina sighed, rubbing her forehead, which was throbbing at this point. Things got weirder and weirder as time moved on.
"Miss Proudmoore. The merchants are here to see you." A guard said, coming up to her throne. She sighed.
"Let them in. I want to get this done already." She sighed. The doors to the throne room creaked open, and the small band of merchants came in, followed by the mysterious boy. She took a good long look at him, his icy blue eyes staring impassively at Jaina.
"And who may you be?" Jaina asked politely, looking at him, with a little smirk on her face. The figure did not move, or even blink, still glancing at her. Jaina sighed. So it was going to be one of these days huh? She stepped down from her throne, walking up to him slowly, her staff clicking on the floor, as she came face to face with him.
"So you are a psyker?" He asked her, and Jaina was confused? Psyker? What the hell did that mean?
"You mean… sorcerer?" She offered helpfully, and he only snorted. Jaina had to give credit where it was due. This guy was the most rudest person she knew, and she knew orcs.
"Typical of psykers. Trying to hide their mutation under a different name. Like it or not, you are a psyker. If you intend to get information from me, then you will fail. Miserably." He growled, almost reading her mind. A small group of guards surrounded them, sensing the oncoming fight.
"Torture will not affect me. Your foul warpcraft will not affect me. Try as you might, but I am a Krieg. Kriegs would rather die than give information to heretics, especially of your kind." He snarled, and then to prove his point, let out a gob of spit at Jaina's face. She wiped it slowly off of her face, furious. It was often hard to get Jaina mad. Very few have. This individual had done it in less than ten seconds flat. Not only did he insult her, and call her a psyker, whatever that meant anyway. He also spit in her face, and called her a heretic. That was it.
"Alright, listen up. I am no heretic, and I am no ps-" She said, before he interrupted her yet again.
"You are a heretic. You willingly consort with xenos, and mutants. The god emperor of mankind decrees that all heretics, xenos, and mutants must be purged, crushed underneath the heel of mankind. You are also a psyker, for this mutant" he said, pointing at the dwarf "Told me that you are the most powerful human sorceress of this wretched land you call Azeroth. I do not care for your title or rank, for you are a heretic. I demand knowledge of the nearest Imperial outpost, so we can properly cleanse you of heresy with the only way that we know. With fire and guile." He finished, before leaning in, and whispering so quietly that she could barely hear her.
"And one last thing. Your apparel for being a psyker is rather revealing. Do you invite other heretics to look at your form?" He whispered, before pulling back. Jaina was enraged, and confused at the same time. People respected Jaina, because she was calm, and understanding. None of these traits arose. She wanted to kill him. She really did. But at the same time, he could have possible information about other realms worth investigating, and with a quick glance of his gear, he seemed to be rather smart, and indispensable.
"There is no Imperium of Man… care to elaborate?" Jaina asked. He twitched at this. She hit a nerve.
"The Imperium of Man is an empire of holy righteousness that spans for thousands of miles across. Trillions of soldiers ready to give everything up for the betterment of mankind. From the lowly PDF to the legendary god like, Adeptus Astartes, the Imperium of Man is the one true ruler of the stars." He elaborated, still with that damn blank face on, that showed no hint of emotion. Suddenly, he asked something she had never expected.
"What year is it?" He said plainly. Jaina frowned at this
"626..." She said cautiously. (AUTHORS NOTE: The timeline of Warcraft is very… loose… The story takes place in Wrath of the Lich King, but because the timeline is unofficial, I had to use the world of warcraft wiki timeline. I profusely apologize if I get time line things wrong.)*
He froze. Jaina looked at him. If she hit a nerve before, she must have severed one now.
"What millenia is it?" He asked again, only for Jaina to sigh.
"Less than a millennia." She responded. He twitched, his steadfast expression disappearing for a few moments, but a few moments was enough. Jaina saw something. Fear.
"Impossible. You… You lie!" He roared, raising a gloved fist, as the guards from the circle seized him, holding him down to the ground. He struggled, screaming more curses then Jaina knew. And she knew orcs.
"Enough! Guards! Take him to the dungeon. I will oversee his… interrogation." Jaina ordered. The calm, yet stubborn figure she had been talking to for the past few moments melted away, turning into a snarling, cornered beast.
"YOU FILTHY HERETIC! I WILL PERSONALLY STRANGLE EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU HERETICS, XENOS, AND MUTANTS, BEFORE I PERSONALLY BURN THIS CITY TO ASH! YOU HEAR ME!" He roared, as he was dragged away, struggling with the guards who tried their best to drag him away, but he was proving too strong.
"Knock em out." One of the guards snarled, and one of them started beating him, and Jaina winced. The guards of theramore had a lot of anger bottled up. Now they got to use it.