Chapter II

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Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Unknown time, Unknown location-but freezing cold.

Vance awoke slowly.
He felt as weak as the fifth-rate recaf he'd had on board the Deliverance before the 50th infantry had made it to Helhiem
From the feel of the wind, it was icy cold.
Then he realised he couldn't have been vaporised by the Inquisition's bombardment.
Somehow the knowledge held nothing for him, and he blacked out.


Another day on the ice. Thought Incandiasa bitterly.
She was a fire dragon, and yet she was being forced to eek out an existence in the frozen mountains near the Mountain of Malefor.
The unfortunate truth was that with the coming of the Black Dragon Cynder, it was now decidedly unhealthy for a dragon to live anywhere even remotely accessible, meaning they'd been forced to part ways and find refuge in the most inaccessible bolt-holes they could.
With a huff, Incandiasa walked out of her sheltered cave before taking to the wing.
If she was going to find something worth eating, she'd have to fly a long way.


Slowly, Vance returned to consciousness again.
This time, he felt the biting cold through his partial carapace plate, even though his armour had rudimentary climate control.
He knew his situation was dire.
Something had happened to cast him wherever he was…something most likely chaos-related, but he couldn't feel any tentacles or deviation.
Be that as it was he knew if he didn't find shelter soon he was going to freeze to death.
With a strangled groan, Vance picked himself up.
His lasgun was still slung over his shoulder, the hot-shot's power pack was undamaged, while the gun itself was next to him, and thankfully its power cables were undamaged as well.
The power-sword was a bit further afield, stabbed point first into the ground.
Vance pulled it from the permafrost before sheathing it at his waist.
The charge packs for his lasgun were spent and languishing in the bottom of his rucksack, along with a translation of a pre-dark age fantasy novel the commissar definitely would've disapproved of, an unread guardsman's primer and some rations.
With all his equipment and effects accounted for, Vance looked around at his surroundings.

He was on a snowfield halfway up a mountain, with the only cover visible being a small cave that had Emperor-only-knew-what living in it.
Vance cursed quietly, before setting about constructing a bivouac.
This took him the better part of a half-hour, and involved a lot of hard work, which Vance was grateful for, as it staved off the cold.
In the end, the bivouac consisted of a dugout and a windbreak.
Left with nothing else to do, Vance Pulled his sleeping bag from his pack before crawling inside it and taking cover in the dugout, falling asleep with a combat knife ready in his hand.
He never saw his captors coming until one of them kicked him in the side of the head, making sure he wasn't about to wake up.


Incandiasa flew for two hours to the snow plain.
A hungry she-dragon might reasonably expect to find an old oxen or some such wandering the icy barrens.
But then, there was also a greater risk of-

Wild cries from below told Incandiasa that she'd been spotted, and the first arrows whistling past her confirmed it.
Looking down she saw a war-band of apes clustered around what looked like something's burrow.
Without further thought Incandiasa locked her wings and dove, avoiding arrows as she came, before snatching one of the apes up in her jaws and swooping away again.
The ape struggled wildly against Incandiasa until she threw it higher into the air, then slammed it with her tail, sending it flying into the distance.
One down, twenty-something-more to go.
With this in mind, Incandiasa dived again, this time readying to rain flaming death and ruin on the servants of the Dark Master.


Vance came around with a splitting headache, and immediately thought he was back on Helhiem.
Then he realised the screams weren't human, but were too animal to be daemon.
He didn't know how the screams weren't daemon, and frankly he didn't want too.

He glanced up and saw some sort of strange, primitive, simian-like creature wielding a cleaver standing over him with an ursid pelt draped across it's huge shoulders.
It wasn't an ork, but that hardly mattered, as it noticed Vance was awake, and raised its cleaver for a killing blow.
Vance was already half-out of his sleeping bag and stabbing his combat knife into the xenos' gut.
The simian roared in pain, and kicked Vance flying out of his dugout and sleeping bag, leaving the knife firmly embedded in the thing's belly.
Now Vance was cut off from his hot-shot lasgun as well.
Fortunately, he'd been in the Guard long enough to pick up on a few things: like ALWAYS wear your armour and weapons to sleep.
Of course, this was impossible to do with a hot-shot lasgun, but a power-sword was a different matter.

Looking around, Vance caught sight of a horde of smaller simian-creatures and a single one even bigger than the one that had tried to kill him.
Then some of the small ones caught sight of him and charged.
Vance drew the power-sword and thumbed the activator.
He was no sword-master by any stretch of the imagination, but he'd still managed to win most of his chainsword training bouts on the journey from Eternia to Helhiem.
As the first simian reached him he swung wildly at it.
The blade of the power-sword cut through the ape's flesh like…a power-sword through flesh.
The only problem was he'd only taken off a slice of blubber off it's shoulders, narrowly missing it's head.
One of the apes crash tackled him to the ground, before the rest piled in and began pummelling him.
And not even a grenade to martyr myself with… thought Vance bitterly.

Suddenly, in an instant he was back aboard the Deliverance.

He was on the training deck with the rest of the squad laying on his back, pouring sweat, gasping for breath and aching all over.
He was only grateful the company commissar was nowhere in sight.
Then sergeant Norris was looming over him.
'Private, tell me something,' began the veteran sergeant in his drawling accent, 'if you go down like this during an engagement, do you think the bugs, or the 'skins, or the pointy-ears, or the heretics are gonna give you a chance to lie down?' He asked. 'Hell no they won't, so get up and kick some ass private!' He finished, shouting.

Back in the present, Vance did exactly that.

Lashing out with the still active power-sword, he stabbed one of the apes in the chest, causing it to stagger back, then keel over writhing.
Then, deactivating the weapon, Vance rolled over, coming to his feet and activating the disruptor field on the sword again as he did so, before decapitating one of his aggressors and spitting the second.
Then something hit him in the back with tremendous force, sending him sailing through the air, and making him drop the power-sword as he did so.
He hit the ground, then slid an extra two metres, coming to rest on his back.
His assailant was the Really Big simian he'd noticed earlier.
He hadn't noticed the small buckler or the war hammer though.
Now the brute raised the hammer, and Vance felt a build up of icy energy.

And in a fleeting instant, as his original assailant and another like it approached as well, with murder in their eyes, Vance Jenkins knew he was about to die.


Incandiasa gave a startled flutter of her wings when she saw that most of the war-band's grunt troops had been killed, and even more surprised to see a weird looking creature sprawled on the ice with two pack-leaders moving on it and a chieftain preparing to blast it.
Giving up on the dive, Incandiasa spat a trio of fireballs at the two pack-leaders, setting their bear-pelt clothes on fire, and knocking them over.
Then as she got closer, Incandiasa summoned a halo of fire around herself, and horn-dived into one of the pack-leaders, goring it badly and burning it into the bargain.
The ape roared in pain as it fell to the ground, then laid still as it bled out, leaving a patch of steaming crimson on the ice.

Incandiasa whipped around to the second pack-leader, which had cast off it's burning cloak and scorched buckler in favour of taking it's cleaver in two hands.
Incandiasa simply bathed it in fire, then summoned another flaming halo around herself and charged it, and flicking it into the air, where she proceeded to flame it again, then take it in her fore-paws and dash it's head against the ice, breaking it's neck with a loud crack.
Then the chieftain clubbed her in the back of the head, and she crumpled in a dazed heap.


Vance didn't know if it was the luckiest, the craziest, or the he-had-no-idea-what, day of his life, but he did know that if he ever made it back to the Guard, the commissars would probably shoot him.
He watched in mute wonder as the vermillion-and-maroon dragon inadvertently saved his life by killing the two cleaver-wielding simians with fire and claw and horn in a manner that would thaw the heart of the coldest commissar.
Then the Really Big simian clubbed the dragon in the back of the head with its war-hammer, and went to dash it's brains out against the ice.

Vance had been drilled in the Guard heavily, but he'd more or less retained his personality, only pretending to go along with the indoctrination of the commissariat as far as his own beliefs went.
And part of his beliefs had been influenced by the peculiar respect paid to the legendary dragons in the Messiah Sector.

Where another soldier from another sector would've seen two xenos fighting to the death, Vance,- a citizen of Eternia and the Messiah Sector his entire life,- saw some great ape about to kill a living example of one of the legendary creatures revered on his homeworld.
With a wild cry, Vance jack-knifed to his feet,-no clear plan in mind but: prevent the beast from killing the dragon.

The sight of the ape attempting to kill the dragon kindled a burning anger in Vance.
As he got close and leapt at the Really Big simian, he swung a roundhouse punch at the brute's long face.
His fist was wreathed in flame an instant before it made impact, and when it did, the ape bellowed in pain, before swatting Vance aside with it's buckler.
Vance hit the snow again, and looked at his fire-wreathed hands in undisguised shock, horror and awe.
Then the simian was charging at him.

Vance had once seen one of the regiment's sanctioned psykers casting warp fire.
He didn't pretend to be an expert in the subject, but he'd been able to entertain his squad mates with a fairly accurate impression in a game of charades before they'd deployed.

Now, Vance thrust his open hand at the ape, sending a fireball at the thing, hitting it in the shoulder, making it stagger back, giving Vance enough time to scramble to his feet and run for his bivouac.
As he ran, he frantically threw more fire over his shoulder, hoping he was doing something more than just looking ridiculous.
The rough curses and yelps of pain seemed to indicate he was.

As he reached the dugout, he yanked the hot-shot lasgun out of the snow, before flicking the safety off, the setting to 'maximum' and the fire-rate to 'full-auto'.
Then he depressed the trigger, as the ape loomed up in front of him.
It staggered back as the first couple of rounds punched through it; then it began doing the dance macabre.
When the hot-shot's failsafe kicked in due to overheating, the ape was well and truly dead.
Vance noted that the flames on his hands had gone out as well, and that the only damage done to the lasgun was soot-blackening to the casing.
Deciding not to dwell on what his new-found pyromantic ability meant, Vance retrieved the power-sword, before pulling the rest of his gear together.
As he pulled his rucksack over the hot-shot's power-pack the dragon stirred, then pulled itself to it's feet, then looked around and saw him.


Incandiasa stared curiously.
By rights she should be dead after the chieftain had hit her, but there it lay with dozens of steaming holes in it's back, and there stood the strange creature, pulling a sack over it's shoulder.
It stopped as it saw her looking at him.
Incandiasa took a wary step towards it, causing it to draw what appeared to be a spear from across it's back.
'There's no need for that, I'm not going to hurt you,' said Incandiasa clearly.
The creature hesitated a moment, then lowered it's spear fractionally, but didn't put it back over it's shoulder.
'What are you?' Asked the creature, speaking uncertainly, as if it didn't know how it could speak, there was a tense undercurrent to it's voice, as well as some sort of conflict.
'You've never seen a dragon before?' Asked Incandiasa curiously.
The stranger shook it's head.
'I have heard of your kind, but I thought the tales only myths,' it replied.
'Do you have a name, stranger? Incandiasa asked.
The creature nodded slowly, never taking it's eyes off of her.
'Vance Jenkins, I am of a race that calls ourselves human.' Vance replied, deciding to omit the Imperium of Man and everything associated. He had a funny feeling the dragon wouldn't approve.
'Do you have a name by any chance?' Asked Vance in reply.
'My name is Incandiasa, and I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving my life.' She replied, approaching Vance not worrying about his strange spear anymore.

Vance, for his part shouldered his lasgun.
He was still wary, but he felt that this long talking with the dragon without hostility breaking out was a good sign.
The commissar indoctrination was screaming 'KILL THE XENOS!' at the top of it's metaphorical voice, but it was also getting kicked repeatedly in the head by engrained beliefs held over a lifetime.

'What are you doing out here?' asked Vance, suddenly suspicious again, he was suddenly very aware of how barren the surrounding landscape was.
'I was hunting for food.' Replied Incandiasa dismissively. 'Not that I'd consider eating you,' she added hastily as Vance went to draw his strange weapon again.
'Why would you be up here anyway? There isn't anything for klicks around.' Asked Vance.
'Why are you up here?' Countered Incandiasa.
'Couldn't say, to tell the truth,' replied Vance, 'last thing I remember was making a jump out of a viewing platform and landing on the rear loading ramp of a Valkyrie gunship, before getting hit with a killer migraine, then rolling down the side of a hive before blacking out, next thing I know I'm waking up wherever 'here' is.' He explained, and got a confused look in reply.
Or, at least he assumed Incandiasa was confused, her features weren't even close to humanoid, so it was difficult to tell.
'Uhm…okay, well the reason I'm up here is because the Dark Master's armies have driven my kind into hiding; we were winning our war against them until the black dragon Cynder appeared; after she appeared my kind went into hiding wherever we could to evade her and her armies.' Said Incandiasa.
'Dark armies? Do you mean like servants of the ruinous powers?' Asked Vance in alarm.
'I don't even know what the 'ruinous powers' are, I was always told that the Dark Master was a purple dragon that became drunk on his power and tried to take over the world,' said Incandiasa.
Vance looked slightly relieved.
'Oh, thank the Emperor, I've fought enough heretics to last me a lifetime.' He said in relief.
'Emperor?' Asked Incandiasa in confusion, 'just where are you from? I've never heard of any Emperor in any of the realms,' she asked.

Vance frowned, a possibly heretical idea forming in his mind.
But then, as he'd developed psychic powers out of the blue, and the company commissar would conceivably have shot him for it, he decided to say 'Frak you' to the ecclesiarchy and administratum, and follow his own heart, and notions of obedience to the Emperor.

'Incandiasa, have you ever seen any other being like me before?' Asked Vance carefully.
'Nope, never.' She replied, 'you're the first 'human' I've ever seen, I've never heard of your kind before, and I've never heard of this 'Emperor' of yours, nor these 'ruinous powers'. She said it succinctly and casually, as if there was nothing secret, blasphemous or world-shattering about it.
It rocked Vance to his core.

'Have your people ever had contact with beings who came from the stars?' Quizzed Vance.
'Not to my knowledge, but that isn't saying much, I haven't seen all that much of the world, just Warfang, the Dragon Temple, the areas around the Silver River and the valley of Avalar, oh and these damn snow fields, where few people come.' Incandiasa replied.
'Do you know anyone who might be able to help me?' Asked Vance.
'Well…you could ask the guardians…but they've gone into hiding, and with Cynder abroad it mightn't be the best idea to go looking for people.' Replied Incandiasa hesitantly. 'Look, it's getting late, and it gets even colder at night; I'll let you stay with me in my cave tonight if you let me have any food you've got, deal?' Incandiasa asked.

Vance didn't take long in answering, as his options were limited, and he didn't really fancy suicide.
'Deal.' Replied Vance, extending a hand, then realising the gesture was rather superfluous, considering Incandiasa had four-clawed paws instead of hands.
'Usually us humans seal a deal by shaking hands, but that's kind of tricky here,' explained Vance apologetically.
Instead of answering, Incandiasa placed her paw flat against Vance's hand.
'That works I guess,' he said, shrugging.
Incandiasa gave a snort of laughter.
'I guess it does, well hop on my back and hang on, you don't want to fall off, we can talk about our backgrounds later.' She said, spreading her wings out from her sides so Vance could climb onto her back.
'You're heavy.' She said in surprise.
'That's just the carapace armour.' Replied Vance.
'Sure.' Incandiasa said, then sprang into the air, pumping her wings hard.
Vance shouted in surprise, and nearly fell off, before flattening himself against Incandiasa's back, as she angled northwest.