2nd Week of the Siege
Imperial Palace, Sadera
Diabo El Caesar paced back and forth in the Emperor's study, anxiously awaiting the return of the Emperor. He had stormed off so angry, gathering his guards to arrest the the adviser. Under normal circumstances, this should have been a simple task, but the prince suspected that nothing about this situation was normal.
It was then that the door opened, and Molt entered the room with his bodyguards.
"Father, what happened?" Diabo asked, "What has become of Bruno?"
"I... overreacted." Molt said, "Bruno has convinced me that he had nothing to do with the theft of my seal. We will have to investigate elsewhere. For now, it is time to sleep."
"Are you certain father?"
"I am. This has been a long day, made longer by my little excursion. Now, we all need sleep. We will continue our discussions in the morning."
"Of course father. Goodnight."
"Goodnight Diabo."
With that, Diabo left his father's chambers, smiling to himself as he traveled down the halls.
After a few minutes, he reached his room, and sat down in one of his luxurious chairs, leaning back in it and sighing.
"Was he convincing?" a voice rang out, and Zorzal, clad in full armor, stepped out from behind a corner of the room.
"He admitted to making a mistake." Diabo replied, "You might want to tell the Old Man that he needs to stop him from making a habit of that in the future, otherwise the little men of the Senate will become suspicious."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Zorzal replied, leaning against the wall, "Thank you again for sending him our way brother; removing him from the board allows us more freedom than ever before."
"I graciously accept your thanks. So, did you enjoy it? Whatever it is that Bruno did to him?" Diabo asked.
"I enjoyed beating him more than whatever that old snake could possibly do to him." Zorzal answered, "Though, I admit that this way means fewer questions. People would become suspicious should Molt Sol Augustus sudden;y die in the villa of a foreigner."
"It was the right move Zorzal, and I am glad that you recognized that."
"Do not patronize me little brother; remember, I only acted the fool."
"Apologies; it will take some getting used to."
"Then I consider myself an accomplished actor. Perhaps I should apply for the role of Sader in "Fall of Aelec?"
Diabo laughed.
"That may not be a poor idea brother; would give you something to do while others plot, though I recommend you find a disguise; it would not do for the people to see a supposedly dead prince in the theater."
"Naturally, though you would have to admit, that would be quite a sight though."
Diabo smiled again, but then turned serious.
"Have you any regrets brother?"
"What brought this on?"
"We are moving into the endgame, after years of planning. Call it sentiment, but I wish to know all the same."
"... I miss my old body. True, this one is twice as strong, but I do miss sex. What of you? What are your regrets?"
"My regret... is that we did not bring Pina into our circle."
"Bah, that girl." Zorzal scoffed, "Sister she may be, but she would never have joined us; she was loyal to father. She did not know Septimus like we did... though perhaps if she is intelligent enough, she will join us when the time comes."
Fort Griffin, 2nd Week of the Siege
"Argh..." Erhardt grunted as he removed his shirt, flinching as his shoulder protested in pain.
"Still not better yet?" Pina asked as she sat at the bed, brushing her red hair.
"No." he replied bitterly, "I'll have to see the Sisters tomorrow, see to getting it healed."
"When we go to your homeland, remind me to bring back with me to open a hospital in Sadera; the Dove's healing arts will certainly be welcome here."
"As my lady commands."
Erhardt threw his shirt to the floor and walked over to the bed, laying down slowly, wincing all the while. Pina then set down her brush, and settled down next to him.
"You know, I recall you saying that we should stop doing this." Erhrdt pointed out as wrapped an arm around her.
"Yes, well, that was before it became so convenient. Besides, it is not as if anything has happened."
"Still, you know we won't be able to do this once we enter my homeland."
"I am well aware... that does not man that I have to like it; I don't want to loose my favorite pillow."
Erhardt chuckled at that.
"You'll live somehow."
"Of course I will; I am a Princess of Sadera after all. Though tell me, truthfully... how likely is your father to accept our plans?"
"The truth? I do not know. Father is pragmatic, and unless we bring him proof that we can succeed... or if we offer him something in return."
"Fair enough." Pina said, "I know this is a long shot... but I am not completely without things to offer."
Erhardt grunted in agreement, before his expression turned thoughtful.
"I have to ask... how do you feel about turning on your people?"
"I don't think I am. I know it seems as if I am acting like scorned woman, taking vengeance on those who insulted her, but my father is not acting the way he once was. He could be strict, harsh even, but he did not send our men into the grinder, nor involve the Empire in fights when diplomacy was still an option. I'm not worried about your people destroying us... but I am worried that if this continues, the vassals and the ambitious will tear the Empire apart, and the Age of Blood will return. So, I will harden my heart, and turn my sword on my own family if I must. I suppose I should be thankful that my mother has passed... that way, she won't have to see me do this."
"Do you have any other family that you care about?"
"I used to care about my father before... before he lost his way. I was never close to any of my brothers though. Zorzal and Diabo were always too busy, and they say my interest in knights as a joke, at best. While it will be a trial to fight Diabo, I will not hesitate when the time comes."
As Tuka Luna Marceau slept beside her lover, comfortably warm, even in the middle of a siege, she dreamed. This was nothing new, but as of late, her dreams had become more and more pleasant. She dreamed of the past, of her village, her family and friends before the dragon came.
Those were good dreams, even if they made her sad as much as they did happy. She did not have that dream tonight though.
Instead, she dreamed of the future.
An elf child was born, though at the cost of a life. Whose, she could not say.
He grows quickly, but he is different from others, in more ways than one. His features are light, lighter than even Prince Erhardt's after his transformation, but his eyes are bright, like hers.
Like his father, he becomes a warrior, skilled in the sword. Like his mother, he learns skills by sight, and as quickly as an arrow flies. Unlike either of them though, he learns at the feet of master mages, honing his arcane might.
Clad in armor of midnight black, blood and death fill his life, and he carves his way through a host of foes. War follows him like a dark specter, inescapable and unrelenting.
He finds a sword of legend... a dark sword, whispering into the ears of its wielder, telling them to kill, and kill again. It will lead him into either glory, or ruin.
There is a throne of gems, waiting for someone to claim it. Does he take it for himself, or does he cast it down forever more?
It was then that she awoke with a gasp, eyes wide open.
What was it she saw? A dream, brought on by worry? If it was, then why did she see the things she did, things she had never seen before in her life. Why did she feel so much dread? What god had sent those images to her while she slept?
Out of everything she did not know, there was but one thing she was certain of; the elf in the dream was her son. If this dream was a premonition, a vision of things to come, then that meant her son would survive his birth! Only then to face a life of hardships and trials, bloody handed, and hounded by foes.
What was worse, was not what she saw, but what she did not see... she did not see herself, nor Vanon, anywhere at all.
She placed a hand over her womb, and offered a silent prayer to her patron, Luunaryur, and then one to Vanon's gods, asking them to protect her unborn son.
For weeks now, Vanon's fear was of her not surviving the pregnancy and birth.
For Tuka, her fear was of what came after.
The beaches of the Aesling controled island, midnight
"It's weird to see you out of your Apostle clothes." Giselle said as she watched Rory covered her body in black clothes, "I thought yo prefered to simply charge in, kill everyone, and get your answers from the survivors... before killing them too."
"That is my preferred way of doing things." Rory replied, "But Emroy is the God of War; and there's more to war than just killing. Spies are an important part of battle; gain information on your enemy, without even knowing that they're there."
"Huh. I never would have expected this side of you."
"You should see me set up a supply train; no army I ever marched with went hungry so long as they let me into the command tent while they talked strategy."
Rory then threw a hood over her head, then grabbed a knife and hastened it to her waist. She turned to Giselle and pointed at her axe.
"Do not let anything happen to it. Keep it out of the spray of seawater, and don't let any birds relieve themselves on it. That weapon is older than you, some gods, and most of the Western Vassal Kingdoms."
"I'll keep that in mind." Giselle said with a nod, "Good luck Reaper; don't get caught."
"Thank you, but if I get caught, then even with a dagger I'm still perfectly capable of killing everyone there."
With that, Rory took off towards the settlement, blending into the shadows.
Rory Mercury, Rory the Reaper to her friends, gritted her teeth in frustration every time she sneaked her way by one of this settlement's inhabitants, and had to resist the urge to stab them.
Oh, how she longed to throw herself into an orgy of violence!... But she had a job to do, and the best way to do it was to ensure that none of them knew that she was here.
Rory and Giselle had been tracking the one responsible for the daemon at Italica for months now. The old man, as the defeated bandits had described him, was a crafty bastard, and had managed to stay more than two steps ahead of them. Eventually, they lost his trail, and any hope of finding the source of their gods' silence.
It was rumors that had led them to this island... tales of strange lights, and how no ship sailing there had ever returned. With little else to go on, other than the fact that the Old Man had first appeared in the north, the two apostles had charted a boat, and started sailing. To be honest, neither demigod expected to find anything, driven skeptical by the many months of false leads and near misses.
So, to actually find a settlement dedicated to the "Chaos Gods," as they were apparently called, was the break that they needed. They could have gone in, killing everything, but that was not a good way to get information, and who knows? Perhaps there were more of those daemons like Jhuin in this camp. Best to be sure, than to make a mistake.
Thankfully, there were few people here; a surprise really, considering the size of the settlement. She was reminded of towns after the men had gone of to war; they were like this, mostly empty, leaving those unfit for battle behind.
So far, she was undetected. None of the handful of warriors, nor the women and children, knew that she was here. Still silent, Rory had made her way to the largest building in the settlement; that was usually where the men in charge gathered.
Unfortunately, where she got there, it had turned out to be a glorified dining hall, with some rooms in the back where a number of children were sleeping.
Interestingly enough, quite a few of the children were warrior-rabbits. They were far from home indeed.
Whatever the explanation behind the children was, Rory could find nothing in the way of documents; no scrolls, letters, or books of any kind. Perhaps they were not literate.
Discouraged, Rory had left the long hall, only to then catch sight of something very interesting.
The entire settlement had been built at the foot of a mountain, with the longhall within spitting distance of a wall of stone... and a cavemouth, guarded by several men, and illuminated by torches.
It was the only thing on this island that was deliberately guarded... which meant they were hiding something of great importance there., which in turn meant that she was going in, though she'd have to deal with the guards first.
Rory smiled as she drew her knife. It looked as if tonight was not going to be a waste after all...
Keeping her hand against the wall, Rory walked down the path. She had been walking for around ten minutes, her eyes adjusting to the dark. Killing the guards and hiding the bodies was not as fun as she thought it was going to be; alas, such was the nature of scouting.
She froze as she began to hear noise; voices, though she could not make out what they were saying. She could also make out oddly colored lights further down. She was definately on the right track. As quiet as a breeze, she continued on her way. As she got close and closer, the voices were becoming louder, and the glow of the light was brighter. Eventually she turned a corner... and gasped at what she saw.
It was a massive underground cavern, filled with rickety wooden structures, connected by walkways and bridges that even Rory, lithe as she was, was skeptical that it could hold her weight. Green fires burned everywhere, and strange contraptions lined the walls, all meeting together in the center of a raised platform, upon which stood the last thing she ever expected to see;
A Gate.
It was a twisted mockery of the Gate that opened on Alnus, with the massive doorway constructed out of what appeared to be human bones, and instead of the bright blue that the Alnus Gate was colored, this one was a deep green. It also looked incredibly unstable, from the way that the machines that were connected to it were vibrating, and making worrying noises.
Unlike the Gate on Alnus, or the Gate controlled by the Asur Elves, this portal was created by a different power, one that made its malice and hatred felt through to her bones.
On the platform before the Gate was a group of people, though she could not make out their figures well. Seeking a better look, she made her way up another path, one that overlooked the platform, staying careful to remain out of sight.
When she reached a good height, she hid behind an outcrop of stone, and looked down at the platform, finally getting a good look at whomever these people were.
One was short, probably some sort of dwarf, though he looked nothing like the nomads she had seen before, for he wore red and black armor, and had on a ridiculous hat that was perhaps about as tall as the entirety of it's owner's body. He, and it was a he if that long, black beard was anything to go by, was flanked on either side by two similarly sized humanoids clad in thick black late, and armed with weapons similar to the Outlander's rifles, except theirs also had axe blades on their muzzles.
The dwarf was arguing with someone, and when she took a closer look, she saw that it was not human either, but a demihuman... specifically, a rat demihuman. It wore tattered grey robes, a loose leather mask, and had horns growing out of the back of its head. Behind it were two more rat demis, clad in rusty armor, but holding vicious looking spears. The lead rat was pointing an accusing finger at the dwarf, and yelling at the top of its lungs.
"- which is why I-we need need more warpstone! Good-best way of powering Gate yes-yes!" the rat said in a surprisingly squeaky voice.
"In case you have not noticed you disgusting creature, but we do not have any more spare warpstone!" the dwarf shouted, "Which is why we need to use slaves instead! Their life-force will power the Gate, and allow us to open it whenever we wish!"
"Bah! Fire dwarf-thing not know what he speak-shout about!" the rat said with a dismissive wave of its hand "Too busy making rifle-guns for Saderan man-things, yes-yes! No understand how Gate work-work!"
"If I recall correctly Skaven, I was the one who built half of the machines here! I daresay I know more in a single digit than you do in your entire diseased body!"
"Fire dwarf-thing be careful, lest it insult Grey Seer for last-last time!" the rat said threatingly, "Will kill fire dwarf-thing myself!"
"Enough." a third voice said, but while the dwarf was gruff, and the rat squeaky, this one was clear as water.
A portal, but much smaller than the Gate, about he size of the man, appeared, and through it stepped a man, dressed in black robes, and walking with a staff. Rory became excited for a second; was this her quarry, at long lost?
Her spirits soon fell as she caught a better look at him; his face was obscured by bandages, and then further hidden by the hood of his cloak, but Rory could tell that this was a young man, and not her elderly prey.
"You bicker like children." the newcomer said, "Save it for another day; need I remind you that tonight is a full moon?"
"Charlatan, I am merely trying to explain to this rat that we cannot use warpstone that we do not have, but he refuses to understand that simple fact!"
"Grey-Seer no idiot-fool! Grey Seer know of how to get more warpstone!"
"And how? We wait for the Gate to open again in a month?"
"No-no! We reclaim warpstone given to dead-things!"
"And how do we do that? Last I checked, von Carstein has a whole army between us and him!"
"Dead bloodsucker is distracted by war with man-things and elf-things yes-yes! Have agents near there! Take warpstone while battle if fought! Return it here, power machine!"
"It is too risky, transporting warpstone across open countryside, in enemy territory." the dwarf said, "They'd never make it back here. Now, by sacrificing slaves, we can achieve the same effect through ritual. All we need is enough slaves to offer up to the Father of Darkness, and we can have the Gate open in a matter of weeks, instead of months!"
"We have not so many slaves that we can sacrifice them all to empower the Gate." the third man said, "Most of them are already working in your forge, are they not?"
"Then get more slaves! Hashut knows this land has enough of them!"
"Then we risk unfriendly eyes casting their gaze upon us! People will wonder whom it is that buys so many chattel slaves, and where they go once they are bought. Even then, there is no guarantee that your sacrifices to Hashut will be enough."
"Do not tell me you back the warpstone plan, Charlatan!"
"I do Belrik. Reclaiming the warpstone given to the traitor Mannfred is already a priority, and now we have an opportunity to take back what is ours, and to put it to use. Grey Seer, you have my support in this matter; take back the warpstone."
"Yes-yes! Consider it already done-finished!"
"In the meantime Belrik, I will return you to your forge in Sadera. Finish construction there, and then begin to craft."
"Grrr... fine. Do not come mewling to me when the Thaggoraki's plan blows up in his face like what happened to-"
"Compare me not to him, fire dwarf-thing!" the ratman shouted, "Or else I will kill... kill..."
The rat began to sniff the air.
"What is it?" the dwarf, Belrik, asked, "Finally smelling yourself rat?"
"I sniff-smell blood!" he exclaimed, "Old-old blood! Beneath that though is... man-thing, coming from..."
The rat quickly snapped hits arm in the direction of Rory's hiding spot, and from a grabby paw, unleashed a bolt of blackish-green lightning. Rory barely ducked her head back behind the rock as the lightning shot past her and hit the wall, sending debris everywhere.
"There-there! Intruder! Sneak-Spy! Man-Thing!" it shouted, "Clanrats! Slave Rats! All Rats, find-kill bloody man-thing intruder! Forth Clan Fester, bring me her head!"
Suddenly, the entire cavern came alive, and out from every structure came scores of ratmen, stampeding up walkways, and climbing up the stone walls, with each rat's beady red eyes glowing in the darkness. In response, Rory immediately darted down the path, running towards the tunnel that she had come through.
Rory was not afraid., but she was not stupid either. She could kill dozens of rats, even with her knife, but they could still swarm her, and take her down that way, and she was not looking forward to spending Emroy only knows how many hours of them trying to kill her and failing.
Rory could not die, but you could be amazed at what she could live through, and her gut told her that these rats were the creative type.
So, new plan; get back to the boat, grab her axe and Giselle, and come back here to kill them all. It was simple, but complicated by the fact that there would be scores of rat demihumans between her and her axe.
"Drawing her dagger, Rory stabbed an encroaching rat inbetween the eyes, then grabbed it's rusty sword out of its hands before it touched the ground, and began to carve her way threw to the boat, and he freedom to slaughter as many rats as she could.
"She's getting away!" Belrik, exiled daemonsmith shouted, "The thaggoraki won't be enough to bring her back!"
"I no-see your servant-lackeys chase-killing!" Rasknitt, Grey Seer of Clan Fester bellowed at the Chaos Dwarf, "Norscan man-things fault! Let sneak-spy through! Skaven fix man-thing's mistakes!"
"Enough arguing!" the third man, Charlatan, said, "We need to capture the intruder, at once! Did you see the way that she slaughtered those rats? She is not a mere human, but an Apostle, though of which god, I cannot say."
"An Apostle, here?" Belrik asked, "Just what we need; if half the tales the lesser races that reside in these lands are true, then she could ruin everything we have accomplished here!"
"Stay here and guard the Gate, Belrik." Charlatan said "I shall go with the clanrats and find her-"
Suddenly a booming noise came from the gate, and all who stood upon the platform turned around.
"Someone is coming through." Charlatan stated.
Slowly emerging from the Gate came a dozen warriors, clad in exotic armor, painted in the color of royal purple. After them came a single man, wearing armor much like the ones before but thicker, and more ornate, and he also wore a mask carved in the likeness of a foreign monster, and painted with a stylized version of the symbol of the Dark Prince.
"Daimyo, we were not expecting you." Charlatan said.
"The Three Eyed King has sent me." Daimyo stated with a thick accent, "I am to appraise your progress, and report back to him when next the Gate opens."
"I would be happy to share with you our current strategy, but we currently have an intruder that we must deal with. She has infiltrated the island, and has seen the Gate. What is more, we believe that she is one of the rumored Apostles of this land."
"An Apostle you say... immortal warriors of the gods. I will assist you in killing her." he replied, "But only so that the glory will be mine."
"What good will more man-things do in the chase-kill!" Rasknitt sneered, "Leave to Fester! Fester will claim sneak-spy!"
"You doubt my capabilities? If we did not have an arrangement with your Clan, I would have your horned head for that. Regardless, I was not asking for you permission, rodent." Daimyo snarled, "While my men stay here, we will hunt the intruder."
"We? Someone will be joining you? One of us?" Belrik asked.
"None of you." Daimyo answered, stepping aside so he did not block the Gate, "I refer to him."
It was at that moment, one step at a time, that a monster came threw the Gate, eager for blood.
This was no mere beast, but a creature of ages past, awakened to do battle once more in the name of the Dark Gods.
It was a dragon ogre, and in its hands was an axe older than the Empire.
"Do you doubt me now, vermin?" Daimyo asked, "Now, excuse me, I have an Apostle to slay."
Running as fast as her legs could carry her, Rory lashed out with her stolen sword every time one of the rats came close to her. She needed to get to the beach; to Giselle, and to her axe. Then she could kill everything on this damn island, and tear down that heretical gate.
If she was out in the open, she could have easily built up enough speed to outrun them, but the confines of the tunnel, and its many twists and turns, meant that the rats were able to keep pace with her.
Another rat leaped out of the shadows, tackling her to the ground. Using her superior strength, Rory grabbed the creature by the head and snapped it's neck in a single motion. She then kicked the foul corpse off of her and immediately started running again, picking up her fallen weapons, mindful that the horde was even closer behind her now than it was a second ago.
She could hear more of them up ahead; it would seem that she was going to have to go threw them if she wanted to get out of this damn hole in the ground.
She felt one of the rats land on her back, but Rory quickly reached back, stabbed it in the eye with her knife, then grabbed it by the scruff of it's neck and held it in front of her like a human-er, ratman shield. When she finally came head to head with the mob of rats in front of her, she simply barreled through them, using the rat corpse as a battering ram, sending the walking vermin flying in every direction.
She would be lying if she said that she did not take pleasure in hearing their frightened squeaks of confusion of being barreled over by their comrade's body.
The hint of moonlight caught her eye; she was getting closer to the exit, she just needed to keep go-
A loud screech shook the air as Rory heard footsteps, which were so heavy that they managed to drown out the dozens that were already chasing her. Looking over her shoulder, Rory saw a giant, muscular, rat, grotesquely shaped, and more than twice the size of the others, charging through the other rodents, uncaring if any were crushed beneath its feet.
As if she needed any more motivation to get out of this damn tunnel.
Lucky for her, the entrance was just up ahead.
Throwing aside the rat she was carrying, she sprinted the last stretch, finally making it outside... and headlong into the humans who were living here, all armed with fierce looking axes.
"Drepa Sinn!" she heard one of them shout, and then they threw a dozen axes were thrown at her, two striking her in the chest, sinking into her flesh, and almost knocked her over.
"Thanks for giving me some better weapons." she said with a grin as she grabbed the axes by the handles and ripped them out of her body, allowing her divine healing to repair the damage, "Allow me to return the favor!"
Rory then charged into the mass of humans, carving into them with the axes, hacking into faces, splintering shields, and liberating hands from arms as she cut a path through them.
Cries of foreign words filled the air, but were quickly drowned out when the rats arrived. Rory was reluctant to end her fun so soon, but she knew what her priorities were. So, with a single powerful jump, she leaped onto the roof of a building, away from the mob below, and ran towards the beach, jumping from rooftop to rooftop as needed, before jumping off the last one, and making a beeline to the beach, Giselle, and her axe.
After a minute of running, she came to the edge of the hill of sand, and saw her fellow apostle, her was currently practicing with her scythe.
"Giselle!" Rory shouted as she leaped down next to her, "Get ready to fight!"
"What are we up against?" Giselle asked as she reached into the boat and took out Rory's axe, throwing the large weapon to her, "As bad as we expected?"
"Worse." Rory admitted, dropping her knife and borrowed sword, and grabbing her axe, "They have their own gate in a cave."
"A gate? How is that possible? Only My Lady can open and close those."
"Well, they had to have come to this world somehow but right now it doesn't matter. What does matter is that I'm being chased by dozens of rat demihumans, and they should be showing up right-"
She was cut off when the rats began swarming over the hill, all shrieking together as a single horrible voice, led by the large mutant.
Rory and Giselle shared a nod, and then leaped into action, each apostle, both armed with their weapon of choice, slaying several rats with each swing. Scores of them fell in seconds to the combined onslaught of the demigods.
When the mutant charged Rory, reaching out with both of its grotesque, muscular arms, she simply jumped into the air, and cleaved it in two with a single swing.
With the death of their large friend, the other rats seemed to have lost their nerve, and some began to retreat, pushing past each other, and crunching some of the smaller ones underfoot.
"They're retreating." Giselle pointed out, bisecting six rats at once, "Should we go after them?"
"We have more important things to do." Rory replied, "We need to get off this island!"
"I don't think our rowboat boat will outrun those ships we saw earlier." Giselle pointed out, "Luckily for us, that's why I brought some friends."
"Friends? What are you-"
A louder roar pierced the air, and from behind the sand hill, a dozen rats were sent flying into the air, landing in heaps across the beach.
Emerging over the hill came an enormous monster; it was like a centaur, but it's lower body had scales and claws, and its upper body only bore a passing resemblance to a man, having more in common with a beast of the wilds. In its hands, it held aloft a giant waraxe, which dwarfed even Rory's weapon.
Without a word, it crashed through the ratmen mob, and slammed its axe down on Rory. The apostle used her speed to dodge out of the way, but just barely, and she barely had enough time to get out of the way again when the monster turned towards her again, axe swinging out to bisect her.
Giselle leaped towards it, aiming for its head with her scythe, but the monster had good reflexes, it quickly swung out with its left arm, and struck Giselle in midair, sending her flying to the ground, then returning its attention to Rory.
"Finally!" Rory shouted, "I didn't think I'd get a real challenge today!"
"Cowards!" Rasknitt, Grey Seer of Clan Fester, bellowed at the retreating clanrats as he overlooked the skirmish below, "Cease your panic-flee! Kill-kill sneak-spies now, or else I will have you all flay yourselves with a rusty carve-knife, yes-yes!"
"Typical Skaven." the Daimyo said as he watched the dragon ogre fight the apostles, "Put a real foe before them, and they piss themselves in fear, and turn tail."
Rasknitt snarled at the Nipponese man before casting a bolt of warp lightning on the fleeing skaven, killing many in a single spell.
"Fight-kill them or die-die to me!" he shouted, "Make choice now!"
Needless to say, when faced between dying at the hands of two demigods, or at the paws of a Grey Seer, the clanrats wisely turned their attentions back to the apostles.
"Amazing..." the Charlatan said as he watched the dragon ogre fight Rory, "You have a dragon ogre under your command... how is that possible?"
"With this." the Daimyo said as he held aloft an orb made of purple glass, "The Shihai Suru Kyu, or Sphere of Domination in your barbarian tongues. I discovered this upon the Cursed Isle, in my homeland... the island where I found him. This artifact, a sacred relic of the Dark Prince, allows me to control over the dragon ogre's mind, making it a slave to my will; I control its every action, and to share our sight, so for as long as my gaze remains on the battle, nothing may take it by surprise."
As if to prove his point, the dragon like apostle leaped at the dragon ogre, only to be backhanded into the ground wit ha single swing of its left arm.
"Of the two, the one with the axe is the more dangerous." the Charlatan said, "Kill her first."
"I do not need you to dictate strategy to me sorcerer." the Daimyo exclaimed, "Do so again as I will take your head."
The Charlatan said nothing, but continued to watch the battle taking place; between the dragon ogre, the Skaven, and the encircling Northmen, soon the two Apostles would be surrounded.
Then they could find out just how immortal they really were.
Rory was enjoying herself; she was fighting a worthy opponent, something that could actually give her a challenge, and which took her centuries of experience to keep pace with. She dodged and parried the monster's blows, while striking out at its forelegs with her axe; while she had landed some good hits, the monster's scales were like armor, and none of her attacks had managed to draw blood... so far.
They were, however, causing damage behind the scales; her axe was causing to, damage to the legs, just none that was visible. As of now, it was starting to favor its left leg, the one she had hit the most.
A cruel grin crept across her face; she had her next target.
Quickly dodging the next attack, Rory dashed towards the left leg, and put all the power she had into her swing, bringing it crashing against the leg, and she felt the bone break the instant she made contact with it. This in turn caused it to howl in pain, drop its axe, and then stumble and fall forward, forcing Rory to jump backwards or else be crushed to death. Once she cleared the body falling on the ground, she leaped into the air, and brought her axe down on its right shoulder, digging her axe deep into the monster's flesh.
Rory did not have long to savor her triumph however; the monster, fighting through the pain she had inflicted upon it, lashed out with its left arm, and grabbed her in its massive hand, trapping her, and then squeezed.
With a single lough crunch, it broke Rory Mercury's spine.
Any satisfaction it might have had however was undone as Giselle leaped onto its head from behind, and drove her scythe's blade into the monster's left eye, once more causing to it cry out in pain, and forcing it to drop Rory.
Giselle jumped down, grabbed Rory's still embedded axe on the way, and landed next to her fellow, now broken, Apostle.
"How are you doing Mercury?" Giselle asked with a smug tone.
"My spine has been broken." Rory sneered, "How the hell do you think I am doing!"
"As much as I would love to rub the fact that I just saved you in your face, our ride is here to get us off this forsaken island."
"Ride?" Rory asked.
As if answering her, the sound of wings heralded the arrival of two dragons, descending from the darkness of the night's sky, and each one breathing streams of fire down upon the rats,and on the monster.
"You have dragons?" Rory asked, incredulous, "Since when did you have dragons?"
"Since before we joined forces." Giselle said as she picked up Rory, "I wanted something in reserve in case we started fighting; a trump card if you will. They're only juveniles, but they're also flame dragons, much stronger than your average drake. As a bonus, they can get us off this island faster than that dinky rowboat ever could."
One of the dragons landed in front of the two apostles and lowered its head, as if it was bowing to Giselle.
"How do you expect me to ride one of those things as I am now?" Rory asked, "In case you've forgotten, I'm currently paralyzed from the neck down, and it'll take a few minutes to heal; I can't hold one like this, unless you want to tie me to its back."
"Well, I don't have any rope, so that plan is a no." Giselle said, "And he's just a baby, so he might drop you if he tried to hold you in his claws... which thankfully, leaves us with one full proof option.
"Open up." she ordered, and the dragon obeyed, opening it's jaws wide.
"You have to be joking." Rory said, completely unamused.
"No, but it will make me laugh later on." Giselle admitted, and placed Rory's body n the dragon's open mouth, "Don't worry, I'll carry your axe for you; just focus on healing."
"Giselle, I swear to all the gods, if you leave me in this dragon's mouth-"
The dragon in question closed its jaws, drowning out Rory. Giselle then patted it on the nose.
"Don't swallow her." she ordered, before then leaping onto its back.
"Fly!"
With that, it took off, followed by its sibling dragon, leaving the beach and its burning rats behind.
"Well, this is a setback." the Daimyo said, watching the dragons fly away.
"So much for your dragon-ogre." Rasknitt sneered, "It no match for actual dragon!"
"Be quiet vermin." he replied, "Your skaven were of no help whatsoever-"
"If you two are done, then we must prepare to counter this." The Charlatan said, "The words of two apostles carry great weight in the Empire. They could rally an army against this island, before we are ready."
"Then we must hunt them down." the Daimyo stated, "With all the means at our disposal."
"I was thinking using more... subtle methods." the Charlatan said, "After all, they cannot rally an empire against us... if there is no empire to rally..."