Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here.
So as you know, it is December.
Which means their will be a Christmas special.
Also, some interesting things will be going down next chapter.
Hope you can enjoy.
Klaus sighed, a sound full with disappointment, shock, and utter disbelief. He turned around, looking at Bluddflagg and Lofn, who both gave him wildly different glances. One was full of sorrow and empathy, though he could sense something in that glare that hinted at other means, while the other was filled with pure anger, rage, and a bit of confusion.
"I don't understand. I look away for a minute. One. Just one, singular unit of time, that lasts up to sixty seconds, or sixty thousand milliseconds. And the next thing I know, Bluddflagg gets fire in his other eye, and can see again, and proceeds to nearly sink the ship in a temper tantrum worth legend." He mumbled, as he rubbed his gasmask, feeling the cold metal press against his skin. One thing that he reminded himself to do is perhaps pad it.
It was two weeks since they had first left Theramore, and now they had arrived in the continent of Northrend, otherwise known as the roof of the world.
And roof of the world it was, as Klaus was having trouble keeping himself warm. The other two didn't seem to have any problems whatsoever, even though Bluddflagg was probably half naked. Klaus wondered what material Lofn's robes were made of that kept her noticeably warm. Heretical the thought was, but it was a minor sin, in his eyes.
"I am completely baffled in how independable you two are." He continued, putting his arms across his chest, the metal plates that were sewn into his greatcoat moving with the action.
"Ta be honest, it aint me fault." Bluddflagg said in defence.
"He has a point. What happened was completely unpredictable." Lofn said, jumping to his defence. Klaus raised an eyebrow. He learned something new about her every day, it seemed.
"Even if it wasn't his fault, you cannot possibly defend the fact that he nearly sunk the damn ship." Klaus retorted, waving back to the ship, that was now being tended to in the harbor, Huge gashes in the upper section of the ship's hull were visible, of where Bluddflagg usually hung out. The two turned around to look where he was pointing at, and Lofn sheepishly turned away, her face turning a bright red, while Bluddflagg growled angrily, snorting, sending a puff of breath into the air, quickly turning into fog.
"Yer lukky dat da damn fing didnt even sink. Uvvawoise, you would have had ta swim." Bluddflagg grumbled.
"And you're lucky that I have developed somewhat of a restraint, otherwise, I would have gunned you down without a moment's notice." Klaus snarled. Bluddflagg growled, taking a few steps forward, standing up to his full height, nearly eight or nine feet tall.
"Watch yer mouth humie. One day, da Twig aint gunna hold me back." Bluddflagg growled.
"I'll be looking forward for it." Klaus replied. They continued to stare each other down, a pair of fingers itching towards a bolter, while another pair was reaching for a Shoota. However, before they tried to kill each other, Lofn squeezed herself between the two, forcing them back.
"Enough infighting from you two." Lofn demanded fiercely, clearly not intimidated by either of them. However, it didn't seem to work.
"Step aside twig. Gunna show ya wot happens when sumbody screws with me." Bluddflagg growled, his voice filled with sinister intent and malice.
"Please do. I am… eager to see your methods." Klaus said, before he glanced at Lofn, and she could practically see him smile. She silently mouthed something to him. Don't do it.
Too late.
"If you can even pull it off with a brain like your own." He said calmly, as his fingers grabbed the grip of the bolter. Bluddflagg roared in anger, the green fire in his eye turning into a pillar of flame, that jutted out of his skull like a horn.
"DATS IT HUMIE!" He snalred, as he swung his Powa Klaw. Klaus dodged the blow, jumping back, but he realised it wasn't even necessary.
Lofn sweeped her hand with so much force that Bluddflagg was sent flying back through the harbor, nearly ten feet away from their location. He smashed through a wooden pier, and tumbled into the dark waters. The horn of fire had returned to a small little pip of flame. It appeared that his new eye could reflect his masters emotions. Interesting.
"Awwww... Twig! Yoo got me suit all wet!" Bluddflagg moaned in dissatisfaction, looking at his now soaked dress uniform. Lofn stifled a giggle, while Klaus merely smiled slightly. They turned, as a man walked up to them. Dressed in Purple Robes along with a bejeweled black staff, it screamed psyker. Klaus took a few cautious steps back, making sure that his finger was still on the trigger. Though killing other humans wasn't exactly forbidden in the Korp (as long as you had a reason) the laws of the land here were different. However, that would not save any psyker that would try to manipulate him. Lofn was an exception, as for some reason, he could never really be purely angry at her. He tried, no doubt, but he could not do it. He had to investigate further into this. The man in the purple robes smiled, holding his hands in a placating gesture, as Bluddflagg clawed his way out of the ocean, as he could not swim, but was still tall enough to walk out.
"Greetings. I am The Magnificent Merleaux, but you may call me Merleaux. The man said, holding his hand out in a friendly gesture. Lofn quickly took it, shaking it with genuine happiness. Klaus was much more cautious. He reached out slowly, getting a confused look from both Lofn and Merleaux.
"Go on. I'm not going to bite your hand off." Merleaux said, chuckling softly.
"Don't even try it." Klaus growled, as he edged it forward a tad bit more, giving himself a mental push. Lofn sighed, as she grasped his hand, and yanked it forward. Klaus snapped her a look, as Merleaux gently shook it. Bluddflagg shook himself clean of water like a hound, and Klaus couldn't help but notice a few drops got on his shoulder pads. He wiped the drops of seawater (and possibly sweat) off, as Merleaux gazed at Bluddflagg for a good ten seconds. Bluddflagg shot Klaus a look full of poison, as he glanced back at the purple psyker.
"Nice hat." He mumbled. Merleaux laughed nervously, before looking back at Lofn.
"Miss Proudmoore told me all about you three, and I am excited to guide you to Dalaran. She would have met you . After we reach Dalaran though, it is up to you to get to the Argent Tournament." Merleaux replied. Klaus sighed. Great. Another long voyage of walking, stopping, and peeing.
"So we are walking?" Klaus asked, just to confirm his worst suspicions. Merleaux shook his head slightly.
"No." He said, smiling slightly, as he took out a great purple book from his sack. He opened it, and flipped several pages, before he stopped, and began to read. Familiar sigils formed around them, and Klaus realised too late what would happen.
"Not aga-"
/
Off the shore Sholazar Basin, was a small boat, that slowly sailed forward from the dreary mist. It was battle worn and torn, with many rips in its sails, and many holes in its hull. It was a miracle that it somehow managed to stay afloat. But it wasn't a miracle. Rather, it was a nightmare.
The boat slowly rocked forward, before it slowly pushed itself against the shore. The wood creaked and groaned, as several occupants leaped out. Two of the three were rather strange, and frightening. Standing nearly seven feet tall, these hunchbacked, red creatures were absolute monsters. Black tongues darted out from their twisted teeth like a serpent, while their claws grasped hellish flaming swords, with dozens of runes made from congealed blood and bone were embedded in the blades themselves. Brass rings were found along their black horns, and their fiery red eyes darted to the third figure. The third figure was a human, with such torn and ruined clothing that it could be considered indecent exposure at best, and full frontal nudity at worse. The human bent down, holding a tome in his hand. He opened it, and threw the book on the ground. It never touched the ground though, as it slowly rose up into the air, lifted by purple and red tendrils of energy. The man looked up, his once soft eyes now merely tiny specks in a sea of madness, grief, and insanity.
"Take me." He whispered, his voice trembling with conviction and greed. The tendrils of energy slammed into the human, and he exploded gloriously. Pieces of red and white meat were sent flying, and the red daemons licked their teeth hungrily at the sight of such carnage. However, as a new figure formed in the gore and flesh, they hissed in anger, swiping their swords in the air, leaving crackling waves of fire. A pink mess of flesh and bone appeared, holding a jeweled staff in one of its three hands, a large book in the other. The same, book. The daemon looked at the other daemons and smiled, it's crooked and fanged teeth turning into a nightmarish grin.
"You are no longer needed." The daemon merely said, as the bloodletters screamed. Red hooks appeared from a rift that had formed behind them, and they reached out, and dragged the roaring Bloodletters back into the rift.
"Come now U'zuhl… our masters have bonded us in this mission together… and you will answer my call…" Vo'ndrath whispered, as it continued to pool his energy through the rift. Soon, a figure approached. It stretched its neck and it's arms, as the rift closed. Standing eight feet tall, U'zuhl, one of the few exalted heralds of Khorne, was a sight to be reckoned. Wearing a black cape with the symbol of Khorne embroidered in brass, the back of the cape was covered with skulls of countless foes. A nightmarish, black serrated sword was held in one hand, while the other held a flaming skull. Two tusks sprouted out from the daemons head, nearly a foot in length, with brass rings on each of them. Two horns sprouted out from the top of the daemons head as well, with two skulls pierced on the tip. The daemons blood red eyes lit up with warpfire, and it grinned.
"LEAD ME TO SLAUGHTER…" Skulltaker, Executioner of Khorne grinned wildly. Vo'ndrath nodded, as the two daemons began to walk together down the coastline.
"I will lead you to slaughter U'zuhl. But first, we must acquire an army." It said. U'zuhl growled, staring back at Vo'ndrath.
"I WILL KILL ANY WHO OPPOSE US. THIS BURNING LEGION WILL TASTE MY BLADE, AND I SHALL HARVEST THEIR SKULLS FOR KHORNE, VO'NDRATH." He snarled back. Vo'ndrath winced when the daemon said it's true name. It was a show of trust, that each daemon knew their true name. It appeared that Khorne had finally realised how his rule could be threatened here.
"That we shall. But we cannot do this together." He said calmly. Skulltaker hissed, glancing at Vo'ndrath.
"AND WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN MIND, LIBRARIAN…" Skulltaker said mockingly. Vo'ndrath smiled slightly.
"The natives are weak minded, and can easily be led astray. We will have an army, and you will have your skulls."
/
As the sigils faded away, Klaus had to hold hold in his breakfast of hardtack and biscuits, as he fell to his knees, groaning. If this was the main transportation in Azeroth, he was going to have to get used to it. Or you know, find a different, less gut wrenching method. His two (one really) companions gasped, looking at the sight around him. Klaus rose himself up, smoothing out his uniform, as he looked around. Though he was impressed, it still lacked good old gothic architecture. The city was massive, with it spreading from as far as the eye could see. With its style of painting being a beige like color and a bright, and rather obnoxious purple, Klaus took a few moments to study the city. Many of the buildings were domed, and in the roads of the city and on some of the buildings were mysterious purple crystals. Another thing he noticed, as he took off his gasmask to take a quick breath test, was that it was rather thin, and cold. It was as if they were in a highly elevated position. Perhaps on a mountain, plateau, or steppe. Merleaux the Magnificent (he must love saying that) smiled, obviously pleased by their reactions.
"I welcome you, my friends, to Dalaran." He merely said, as he stepped aside, allowing Klaus to take in a better view, as he had blocked a rather tall building. Klaus snorted.
"Not nearly as impressive as the bunkers on Krieg, but I guess it's something." he mumbled, as he put his gasmask back on, tightening the straps. Merleaux clearly seemed intrigued by what he said. Klaus decided he would rather not have an information parasite leeching off what he had to say.
"I have already planned for housing. You will be spending several days here in Dalaran, and then you may leave." Merleaux said, adjusting his hat. Bluddflagg was staring greedily at it, almost like a lion looking at a piece of meat. It would have made even more sense if the animal licked his chops, though Bluddflagg did not do that.
"However, there are a few… requests, I ask of you to carry out." Merleaux asked sincerely, almost like he meant it. Klaus put his arms across his chest, already considering what he could do. Perhaps he could check out the markets again. He still had quite a lot of money (As it turned out, he was rather good at gambling, and many at Theramore were still rather mad at him)
"I ask that your… friend is to be supervised at all times. Though the Kirin Tor are Neutral, it won't take much to provoke them. So I ask you to keep him in control." Merleaux whispered to Lofn and Klaus, nudging his head at Bluddflagg's direction, who took out a tiny cigar, and put it in his fiery eye hole, perhaps seeing if he could light it. Klaus sighed, and was tempted to simply take the greenskins cigar and light it himself.
"And another thing, perhaps you could visit the Violet Citadel some time soon, and perhaps tell us, or show us of the places beyond." Merleaux asked, somewhat excited.
"What do you mean by that?" Lofn asked. Merleaux licked his lips, glancing at her.
"Well, Ms. Proudmoore told me that you two were… not of this realm. I would have called her mad, if I haven't seen you for myself." He explained. They were interrupted, as they heard a squealing noise. They turned to see Bluddflagg, rolling on the ground, his finger coated with green fire. Lofn immediately went to help, while Klaus considered doing a sketch of the scene that unfolded. Certainly would give him a good chuckle.
"You have some rather interesting friends. Tell me, how did you meet?" Merleaux asked, who appeared to be amused as he was, as Bluddflagg was rolling around in the grass, squealing like a pig in pain, as the green fire now consumed his hand. It didn't seem to actually burn or scorch his skin like promethium, but perhaps just hurt him. Klaus sighed, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.
"Trust me, it's a long… long story." He mumbled. Merleaux nodded, perhaps aware to tread lightly with such information. At least he had a form of decency when it came to privacy. Unlike someone he knew…
"Are you engaged with the girl?" Merleaux asked casually, obviously not expecting what would happen next. Klaus turned on his heel, snatching the psyker by the coattails, and picking him up without too much trouble.
"No. We are not engaged." He said sternly, putting the psyker back on the ground, giving him a clear warning to which he greedily took. Don't mention it again. He glanced back at Bluddflagg, who was now being somewhat pacified by Lofn, even though she didn't do much really. Anything, actually. But it had a visible effect on Bluddflagg, who was slowly calming down, looking at his hand, which was completely unmarked by the green fire. Klaus then noticed something. The horned skull on the rack. It was looking at him. Directly, at him. While the other heads on the trophy rack were looking straight forward, the horned skull of Varimathras was looking directly at him. He narrowed his eyes, as he moved several steps to the left, and then to the right. The skull was following his every movement. Something was gravely wrong with that trophy of his, and Klaus would get to the bottom of it. However, as Bluddflagg got up, the skull swiveled on the spike it had been mounted on, turning straight forward, though Klaus couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched by it. He turned away from Bluddflagg, as Merleaux invited them to a tour of Dalaran itself. Klaus kept a hand firm on the handle of his sword, gripping it so tight that underneath his gloves, his fingers turned white. Something bad was going to happen, and he knew it.
/
So instead of spying on Bluddflagg constantly (which felt creepy in his opinion) Klaus decided to explore Dalaran a bit more. The tour was over, and the sun was slowly setting, giving a mesmerizing blend of colors across the sky, which filled many others with a sense of calamity and ease. However, Klaus was far from ease.
To begin with, the reason why the air was so cold, and so thin, was that the city was floating. Floating. As in, not touching the ground. He was astounded when he heard that, but then Merleaux hit him with an even larger sock to the head. That a rather large percentage of the city were psykers and spellcasters. Somewhere around the sixtieth percentile, if he remembered.
Unacceptable. Absolutely, one hundred percent, unacceptable. Such a high concentration of psykers in one place was very, very dangerous. So he kept in mind what many spellcasters looked like around here. While other psykers tried to hide, or at least stay hidden, the psykers here really tried to show it off. They usually wore robes and carried staffs, though perhaps their appearance could differentiate.
"Damn psykers… why the hell can't they look the same…" He mumbled to himself, as he glanced at a group of people that walked down the same road he was on. He could tell several of them had arcane staffs, having jewels twirl around the tip of their staffs, somehow defying gravity. Klaus took several steps to the side, giving a wide berth of space between him and the group of sorcerers. They looked at him strangely, though it seemed to be less on him, and more on the gilded bolter, which peeked out from his cloak every now and then. It was still cold too, though at least it wasn't snowing. It was simple. He couldn't trust them. Anyone of them, as a matter of fact. Perhaps he was being paranoid, or worried over nothing, but Klaus, like many other humans in the Imperium had been taught from birth, to fear the psyker, to burn the heretic, and to kill the xeno. These things would never leave his mind, as he glanced back at the group of wizards, who were still rather far away. Klaus took a deep breath, sighing, as he began to continue striding forward.
"You're worrying over nothing. They are just psykers. Perhaps not even psykers. Maybe… individuals with rare talents and abilities? Well, they aren't blanks, thats for sure. I could use a blank as a companion. Would be useful…" he mumbled to himself, as he finally stopped walking, and took a deep breath. He was thirsty, cold, and hungry. He hadn't eaten anything since morning, and it was nearly sunset… Maybe he could just…
"No. It could be run by psykers too. Cooking food with their witchcraft." He mumbled. He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice a certain nosy intruder sneak up behind him. Almost.
Grabbing the bolter from its holster, he whipped around, pointing the bolter straight at the intruder. Lofn didn't even flinch.
"Pulling a gun on me, or are you just excited to see me?" She asked playfully, as he put away the bolter.
"Both." He merely replied. They stared at each other for a few moments, before Klaus turned around, and began to walk away.
"Where are you going?" She asked, as she caught up to him disturbingly quickly.
"I'm going to find somewhere to have dinner." He merely said.
"I see. Well, you know where to go at Nightfall, right?" She asked, her playful tone gone. She really took this 'responsibility' of keeping him safe seriously. Something that he respected, and was worried about at the same time.
"Yes. 'A Hero's Welcome' in the Silver Enclave." He mumbled. She nodded, and as she began to turn away, Klaus got an idea from literally nowhere. He scratched his head unconsciously, though in reality, his gloves merely rasped on his helmet. It began to itch. Again.
"Would you like to dine with me?" He asked, completely unaware of what he said. She froze. So did he. His eyes widened in surprise at what he had said, and before he could even try to retract his statement, she turned around, smiling coyly, her face turning a bright pink.
"I would be delighted too." She said, giving him that damn smile. Sometimes he wished he could slap it off, though for some reason, it never came into his mind. Klaus wanted to say something, but it disappeared from his mind. Instead, he merely sighed quietly. Look what you got yourself in now… he thought to himself, as they walked to the inn, both wondering how this had happened.
/
Mista Nailbrain heaved with one last pull, as he desperately tried to drag the Necron's body through the snow. The explosion that Spookums had set off was devastating, nearly collapsing every tunnel leading to the Old Kingdom. It was only luck, and luck alone that he had managed to escape, but the explosion seemed to have knocked a screw or two loose in the Necron's body, and now it refused to work. And now, he was stuck out in a blizzard, in the middle of the open.
And he knew, that if he did not find shelter soon, he wasn't going to last very long.
"Damn ya tin kan. First ya killed Spookums, now yer dyin on me too…" Mista Nailbrain mumbled, as he pulled on the Necrons body one more time, just to see if perhaps, he could pull him out anymore. It didn't work. He sighed, and pulled as hard as he could. However, the slick black metal slipped from his grasp, and he was sent flying into the snow, dousing himself with white powder. He hissed, shaking his hands free of snow, and snarled in anger. He took out his Kustom Shoota, and lit the fuse on the Burna Attachment.
"DIS IS YER FAULT!" He roared in anger, as he pulled the trigger down on his Burna. A jet of red and orange flame coated the Necrons body, burning away at the robes that adorned its body. It scorched, crackled, and popped, as he continued to burn the metal body in rage, screaming out in anger and desperation as he did it. He kept pulling the trigger, yelling obscene curses and insults, until one last puff of flame erupted from the Burna, before it stopped. Mista Nailbrain shook it. It was out of juice. Mista Nailbrain growled, as he started to walk away. If he couldn't get the Necron up, then he was going to leave him behind. He didn't need that tin kan for protection. He could do it himself, likitysplit. No worries, no worries whatsoever. It was starting to turn dark too, and he couldn't have that.
"Shulda saved some juice…" He mumbled, when he had an idea. He dropped his tool kit, and rummaged through it, tossing aside loose rivets and screws. So busy going through his stuff, he barely heard footsteps. His eyes shot up, scanning the cold environment. He saw nothing. He glanced down, as he took out his welda. He screwed it open, taking out the fuel canister. He put it to his mouth, and sucked on it a little. The corrosive liquid burned at his tongue, and he spat the vile thing out, as be pushed the nozzle of the canister to the open cap on his Burna. It quickly began to fill up, until it started to overflow. He took the fuel canister out, and screwed the cap back onto the Burna. He shoved the fuel canister back into the Welda, and shoved his tool kit back into his sack, as he trudged through the snow.
"Gotta find the kapn… gotta find the kapn… gotta find the kapn…" He mumbled, as he reached into his pack, reaching for the majik talkie, when a whistling noise was heard. Before he could react, a searing pain erupted from his ankle, and he roared in pain. He fell to the ground, hissing in anger. He looked down at his foot. An arrow was wedged into the side of his left foot, and it was in deep. He grabbed the shaft of the arrow, and began to pull. The pain grew worse, and he snarled in pain, as he yanked it out. Looking at the arrowhead, he realised that it was not only twisted, but barbed, and perhaps by the strange sheen, it was also poisoned, but most likely it was diluted. Whoever shot this, intended for their target to be as immobilized as orkly possible.
Mista Nailbrain only had seconds to absorb this information, before he was smacked on by the back of the head with a black club. Several teeth were dislodged from his mouth, as he was sent face first into the snow. He groaned, slowly rising up, before another hit sent him back down.
"He's the one." A rather familiar voice said. Mista Nailbrain spat out a glob of mucus and blood, as he tried to remember who's voice that belong to. Another hit in the back of the head.
"What of the other one?" Another voice asked. Another hit in the back of the head. Their voices were airy, and light, yet filled with malice and dark intent. Another hit in the back of the head.
"Leave it. This one, is the one she wants the most." The first voice replied. Mista Nailbrain felt a finger go under his chin, and felt it gently lift his head. He gasped in realization at who it was. It was Clea. The Dark Ranger. She hadn't changed much, with her menacing visage of blood red eyes and rather non decayed skin. She made a frown of some sort, with her lips puckered up, as she leaned in, and whispered in his ear.
"I'm sorry." She merely whispered, as another hit from the black club knocked him in the noggin so hard, he was barely conscious. He felt several people grab his legs, as he was slowly dragged away. He weakly reached out, trying to go for his shoota, to the Necron, to anything really. However, it would not save him. Nothing could anymore.
