Morning folks! Or afternoon. Or evening. You get the jist.
First of all, quick apology - been busy with multiple school camping trips along with end of year exams, here's to hoping for some faster chapter updates.
Anyway, as per usual I'll respond to reviews at the bottom of the chapter under the dialogue snippet, I'll clearly mark it. As for the previous chapter - that was centred around exploration of my own methodology and way of thinking. I tend to throw myself at an issue without any real goals except "get better at everything." This chapter should be similar, and because it's obvious it's an exploration of another mentality which Tristan uses - dissecting everything to the core and working your way up. Clean, consistent and disciplined compared to my controlled chaos. But there's a little bit more to it, if you want to look for it ;P
Now, onto the story! Yay!
Stepping out of the room, Tristan gently shut the door behind him - wary of waking up his slumbering friend. An overwhelming tension filled the air once the door closed; the elf and human looked towards each other, neither party speaking. They looked at each other, searching their eyes for any clues as to their intent.
"Okay Kerillian, what do you want to talk about?" Tristan's voice was tired, yet still respectful as he addressed the elf.
Her response lacked the usual bite it possessed. Her mind was in turmoil as it tried to process the fractured information she heard. "Look, I'm going to get to the point. The weave shines brightly around both of you, and it's clear you know a lot more than you are letting on. Tell me what's going on."
'Of course it's the weave, why did I ever think she was going to apologise?.'
He stood up straight, clasping his hands together whilst he spoke. "Okay, basically the world is going to end at the rate things are going at. We know what will happen because where we come from, this reality is nothing more than a game. Every major event that has occurred and will happen in the future has been written."
Patiently waiting for her to process the information, he did not judge as she began to pace. It took a few moments for the elf to process her entire life had been scripted in a way she did not anticipate, having understood the situation she nodded in assent, taking a deep breath as she did so. "Unexpected yet nonetheless reasonable so far. Please continue."
"Right, so since we know what will happen - and the result of everything that does -
Nico thinks we are able to cause enough change to stop some of the major catastrophes. He's hoping we can figure something out soon, so we can have the biggest impact and prevent the end of the world."
She noted his emphasis on Nico rather than himself. "Just to check, you both think you can do something to stop this?" It was difficult for her to visualise two young men, though being amongst some of the most skilled protegés she'd ever seen including those in the ranks of the elves, having any significant impact on the greater scheme of the world.
A hint of indecisiveness projected through his voice, "Honestly? I don't think we can. Fact is we're nobody special, and we can't actually do anything about it as hard as we try." Tristan sat down on the stairway, gently inviting Kerillian to join him to which she politely declined.
"What about a group like us then?" Kerillian began to piece together the more in depth information she overheard, linking it directly with what Tristan revealed.
A pause developed between the two as Tristan thought about his response. He didn't know what to think about the capability of the 5 heroes, nor how they would or could affect the rest of the world. That was something he usually left Nico to do, his friend being far more prone to daydreaming and random thoughts or questions.
In the meanwhile, Kerillian thought about the information she managed to gather from eavesdropping on their conversation. She recognised several of the names they spoke of, but couldn't make out exactly what they would do or how the piece together. It didn't help that the boys didn't elaborate on the specifics, and had left out crucial information as they both already knew what they were discussing. She decided to settle on what she had, and leave it at that - when she acted on her certain thoughts, she almost led athel-loren to ruin single handedly. A mistake she was not willing to repeat.
Eventually Tristan broke the silence, having settled on his answer. "It still would be a challenge to say the least." He quipped, quickly realising the potential insults within, causing him to back-track in slight panic. "Uh, not to say you guys aren't skilled. It's just a big world - there's lots of skilled people out there."
Luckily, Kerillian took no offense, "What about a large, specialised army? If you managed to mobilise an entire force you'd be more able to prevent things from happening. As much as I loathe to admit, One-eye is right that we need more numbers. "
"The way I see it, we need to take out the key figures. An army is too large, too easy to see coming," Seeing her pause to contemplate his words, he continued. "There's also the fact that you guys have the skills needed for us to make it anywhere in the world, I think you missed it but Nico told me how Salt tried to kill him earlier, and he knows we're legit. Imagine what The Empire, high-elves, dwarves or even wood-elves would do, let alone react"
"I suppose you have a point. What are you going to do then?" Kerillian couldn't imagine humans reacting well; most of them killed or mutilated anything they couldn't understand or rather didn't want to. The high-elves of Ulthuan would mock the boys before killing them, or not even listen in the first place. Her sisters back in Athel Loren would likely pretend to listen, before executing them in horrific manners for rituals or enslave them both after intensive brainwashing.
"Well, as things stand. We'll stick around: me probably until I die or we succeed but Nico until he finds an opportunity to do something more. Either way, he was being reasonable when he pointed out that we can't try to kill a few vermin."
"You're not as hopeless as you think you are. This world is grim, I'll admit, things are way worse than they should be." Guilt began bubbling in her chest at the thought of Ubersreik and the fall of Helmgart. "But you two show potential and promise. I've lived for quite a long time. I think I can shape you up into a decent assassin, if maybe not quite as good as us elves." Kerillian paused to let him think it over, continuing when he gave her the signal to do so. "The war-camp in Norsca is still at large, even if we culled quite a bit of the rot-helms. Unfortunately, Saltzypre is right once again in saying we need an army to wipe them out."
He ceded the point, supplying his own thoughts to the conversation. "The nest is still active. You're training him to be more of a duelist and fighter right? It might be good for him to deal with any out-right threats whilst we take out the key figures. Thanks for the idea"
"You're welcome. But be aware, if you steal my kills you'll end up replacing whoever it was." He took the playful bite at the end as an invitation to begin lightening the conversation.
"I should say the same to you. You know what they say. The student often becomes the master."
"Good thing I'm not your master then." This sparked a request in Tristan's mind, which he immediately pursued.
"This is a personal request here, one you are more than free to deny. But could you please watch over Nico? He tends to be reckless and I can't always back him up. If he runs off to command an army which he probably will at some point, I fear he's going to get himself killed as he bites off too much, too soon."
She shrugged, not giving his request much deliberation. "No. It's not worth my time; if you're right - I will not spend the potential last years of my life watching over a stupid mayfly."
The pangs in her chest grew as Tristan deflated a little, despite nodding in acceptance. Despite his earlier dismissal of Nico's vain attempts to keep him close, he admitted he didn't want to entertain the thought of his only remaining friend dying a gruesome death. Something he realised was a likely inevitability in this world. "Fair enough, you're free to do as you want."
'Of course, I forgot. Elves are the most arrogant pieces of shit in existence. She almost killed him already and hasn't apologised. Why would she do such a thing anyway.'
Her next response caught him off-guard. "What I can do instead, is turn him into a self-sufficient fighting machine. That way, if he dies it's on him and neither of us."
Seeing she was making a considerable concession, he decided to thank her. "Cheers Kerillian. Means a lot, he's my only friend left right now."
She waved away his thanks."Yeah, yeah. Don't flatter me. I'm still not sure why I'm doing this."
'Probably for the same reason you're with Saltzpyre and the rest: you're guilty'.
"Us mayflies would know jackshit about the complex mind of an elf. Would we now?" Tristan flipped one of her favourite insults back onto her, to which she agreed.
Seeing as their serious discussion was at an end, they began to converse into the night. The occasional light-hearted comment or joke between the two working to break-down the otherwise stone-cold exterior Kerillian maintained as she tried to keep her distance from attachments. As the night progressed towards the early hours of the morning they began to discuss her previous feats.
She snorted in the most undignified manner, something no human would expect to see from an elf. "You think taking down a chaos champion is an easy feat?"
She gave him the most unimpressed look he'd seen from her yet.
"No, but clearly Hoggars bridge was. 'Dozens I claimed.'' He mocked her voiceline from Vermintide, smirking as she groaned loud enough to fully rouse the waking Nico from inside the room.
"Wait Hoggars bridge? Two Nuln regiments vanished at Hoggars bridge... Elf? ELF?" He kicked the door angrily, the hinges nearly popping under the strain. "Shut the fuck up and let me sleep." Nico yelled from behind the door, livid from being forcefully awakened by the sound of their continuous conversation.
Tristan leaned his head back against the nearby wall. "I forgot he was sleeping."
Kerillian simply chuckled, "You mayflies have the shortest memory. I will talk to you another time. I will admit I thoroughly enjoyed this chat."
"I did too. We should talk again some other time."
"Maybe we shall mayfly. Maybe we shall."
She began the short walk towards her tree tent, stopping abruptly just a few steps from where she originally stood. Her voice was soft as she spoke. "And for what it's worth… tell him I'm sorry."
"See ya around." He bid her goodnight, turning towards the room lazily swinging the door open, only for a hay-pillow bigger than him to knock him out of the door frame and onto the ground.
"Serves you right. Dipshit," said the wielder.
"I still hate that meme."
"And I hate you. Come on improvised floof; it's bed-time." Nico hauled the pillow from Tristan, mock-glaring at him before breaking out into soft laughter, extending a hand to which Tristan smacked away.
"My legs are still fully intact, unlike yours," he joked.
"Suit yourself." They turned to get a few hours rest before dawn broke, or in Tristan's case - proceed to sleep-in until midday.
Roaring flames sparked from the forge as the furnace ignited, scattering nearby birds as Bardin observed Nico making rudimentary components for his multi-stage electrical generator. In their haste to flee, the startled flock knocked over several training dummies in the field, sharp grinding of metal against stone rousing Tristan from his deep slumber.
He found himself unable to fall back asleep as voices arose from beyond the flames. Clambering out of bed, he arose to investigate the cause of the noise. It appeared that Bardin was interrogating-arguing with Nico on something he was working on, whilst Sienna watched on and helped him out.
"Care to explain what you're intent on creating? Looks like new-fangled umgak to me. And prey tell, why is Sienna here? Not that it's unappreciated of course." Majority of Bardin's questions went unanswered; Nico being too preoccupied on forming components for a project he roughly drafted earlier that morning. "I need melted copper coils, and the forge is too cold for that. Sienna is here to heat things up."
The dwarf's eye visibly twitched. "Are you calling my forge inadequate boy? Not only do you drag me out to help you - you completely ignore everything I say."
Nico gleaned back entirely unimpressed. "No, I just come from a place and time of technology you haven't dreamed of. Don't get me wrong - I respect you as a smith and a warrior and that this is indeed your forge. But I have to get things done in a way you don't understand." Returning to his work, he instructed Sienna to concentrate beams of fire towards metal within the furnace of the forge, pushing the temperature high enough to melt it. He ignored the irritated complaints of the dwarf.
"Dwarven engineering surpasses that of humans and always will. Also you shouldn't have dragged poor old Zharrin into this without proper protection. She'll get burnt by the sparks. There's nothing there that I can't understand."
"Oh hush darling, I'm a fire wizard - and I'm having a good damn time too. It's fun to watch metal melt. Shame there's no one inside it." The witch subsequently zoned out, mesmerised by the melting of metal, only temporarily snapping back to reality when a fresh batch of copper replaced the melted pile. True to her flame based nature, she quickly lost herself in the process yet again.
"If this one doesn't tell me what he's doing I'll throw him into the fire for you." Nico sharply inhaled at the mocking-threat, annoyed by the consistent pestering.
"Fine. You want answers? You're a blacksmith. Take a glance at the blueprints."
"They're scattered notes, with poorly annotated notes and no evaluation. At best this seems like a half-concocted goblin draft." Bardin's frustration matched Nicos in equal measure.
Chancing a look towards the notes, Tristan arrived at his friend's rescue. "It looks like he's planning on making an electrical generator - it's one of the key staples in our world that forms the backbone of everything. I don't quite understand the designs myself, but he's got an idea. Just leave him be until he's finished, because otherwise he'll forget something." A fresh wave of superheated magical wind washed over the ensembled group as Tristan spoke. It sparked a flash of heat throughout his body, the feeling reminding him of a dying flame being kindled into a roaring fire.
He pushed the feeling aside.
Bardin grumbled unsatisfied, "This is shoddy workmanship nonetheless. A smith would be ridiculed and forced to take upon a slayer's oath for something twice as good."
"It's not meant for combat." Tristan explained, "Basically, it is a source of power you can use to create light and heat. We use it to cook food and some of the most recent uses involve using it for transport. Besides, Nico tends to keep the majority of his ideas in his head and change things on the go; he does this with everything."
Bardin nodded in understanding. "That's bad practice but I guess it makes sense, waste of parchment that way and the designs become outdated too quickly. Shame you're not a dwarf, wouldn't need to adapt things if you were. Anyhow, not to pry lad - but don't you have training with Kruber to do?"
He tilted his head slightly, "In a few minutes, he's still doing some writing practice I told him to do yesterday. I think at least, I'll find out soon enough."
The duo watched as Nico frantically danced around the forge, trying to keep on top of all the things he was doing at once. Something he was failing miserably due to his injured arm and constant influx of new ideas. Seeing himself fall behind on his main tasks, he cursed in Spanish before asking Bardin to help him bend the recently formed coils into a shape he prepared a crude sand cast for.
Bardin withheld his help, feeling vindictive towards the young boy. "You have insulted my forge, my honour, my species. Any dawi would've struck you down for less."
Nico swore as he dropped a coil, the impact bending it irreversibly out of shape meaning he'd have to re-melt and recast it. Tristan grabbed a spare cloth before picking it up, the scorching heat almost burning his skin despite the barrier cloth. He had no idea how Nico wasn't burnt despite not wearing protection. "Come on dude. Can't you see I'm struggling here?"
Bardin's pointed look shattered the remainder of Nico's pride. "Alright, alright - The water wheel you've got here will turn a few magnets around coils of wire, which will create a basic electrical voltage. If I lay a few coils around a tank of water which collects the water, I can create a shower."
Tristan laughed, "I knew it. You care more about being cold than having the most advanced technology in this world. And you were trying to tell me it was going to be a charger."
"Lohner and Bardin both won't let me live in the forge." Nico pouted at the dwarf. "Please?"
The glare the dwarf held intensified. "Most definitely not. Especially when you're holding the tongs wrong. I told you before."
"And I told you before that this position gives me better leverage."
"You won't hold a grip onto anything though." The master began bickering with the arrogant apprentice, both too stubborn to back down. Sienna watched on in mild interest whilst Tristan picked up a pencil and started adding more detail to the plans, filling in the blanks where he could, pointing out potential pit-falls or questioning the purposes of specific parts.
From his peripheral vision, Tristan spotted Markus descending from his room high up in the keep, holding a variety of weapons. His ears heard a faint apology for being slightly late. A cacophony of metal slamming into each other signalled the knight tripped out on the courtyard. Distantly, he heard Kerillian mock Kruber's sense of direction, before she disappeared for the day. "That's my cue - try not to forget anything important Nico."
Nico's eyes lit up in glee. "I've gotten multiple designs bouncing around up here." He tapped his head. Inclining the tongs he was holding, he promptly dropped an iron block onto his foot, yelling in pain and recoiling, only to bump into the weapons shelf behind him which proceeded to fall on top of him. The trio laughed joyously at his misfortune.
"I would like it to be known that you all suck." Nico slowly crawled out of the wreckage, navigating between the equipment that miraculously didn't impale him.
Bardin's foul mood dissipated as karma struck Nico. "This is what happens when you don't listen to the dawi. Next time listen to the experienced smith."
"Yeah, yeah, okay. I got the message. Now stop laughing at me please." Wisely deciding to try and pacify the dwarf, he promised to listen to any lessons in the future.
Seeing that Sienna and Tristan were both laughing at him still he tried to fake glare at them, failing to hide his amused smirk as he spoke. "I mean it. Stop laughing before I break your staff," he pointed at Sienna, before pointing towards Tristan. "And take your left kidney." Nico jokingly threatened.
Retorting back Tristan sarcastically commented, "I knew you were suicidal, but not to this extent. Next you'll tell me you're going to hug Kerillian. Aren't you?"
Seeing a mischievous smile break onto Nico's face, Tristan's stomach dropped. "Don't you fucking dare." The smile broke out into a grin. "Jesus Christ man."
Shaking his head in fond disappointment, Tristan left to the image of Nico bowing his head in apology, attentively listening to the dwarf's lecture, which primarily consisted of critiques to his incorrect usage of procedures and techniques, along with citation to multiple accidents that claimed lives within the dwarven mines and forges. He just hoped that his friend took the lessons being imparted to heart, rather than try to find his own way of doing the same thing. The last thing he heard was Sienna mutter under her breath whether hugging the elf was actually possible for anyone, or rather if it was possible for anyone to survive.
Markus gave a wave to Tristan who'd just left the forge. "Afternoon lad, time for some proper training. All that extra time practicing drills has paid off. I think you're ready for some action." He tossed an arming sword to Tristan who caught it with ease. "Alright, get into your fighting stance."
Sword arm outstretched and ready, Tristan stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, back foot angled at 45'. He pressed down on his backfoot, prepared to drive forward on the offensive.
Kruber was noticeably impressed at how solid his stance was. "Okay so you seem to know this already mate, but just a reminder. Having a flat backfoot will give you more power on the defense, but you'll be slower to move. You won't get knocked around like a dwarf against a giant though. An angled foot however, will give you an advantage on the force."
Relaxing from his stance slightly, Tristan spoke. "That's an... interesting analogy."
Somehow he knew Bardin overheard the comparison and would later knock Kruber around in a demonstration of "Dawi Fortitude."
"Yeah I thought so too, but I went for it and then it was past the point of no return. Anyway, keep your body side-on to your opponent, you want to minimise the area your opponent can hit." Kruber continued his instruction.
"Yup, sounds good to me."
"Cool, so we'll spar a little bit and see how things go. Remember to use your drills and don't do anything fancy, I wouldn't want to hurt you." Kruber picked up a sword of his own. Dawning his helmet to match Tristan's own he asked, "Ready?"
"Waiting on you." Tristan said.
"Alrighty then." Kruber took up the exact same stance opposite of Tristan. "Go."
Immediately stepping forward, he thrust the blade towards Tristan's midsection. Stepping to the side, he parried the blow before counterattacking with his own. Redirecting the sword to the floor, Kruber pushed forward again, using his superior weight to press the offensive. "Not bad. Not bad at all."
Falling back to his practiced routines, Tristan pushed Kruber to the side, knocking the Knight to a knee. In return, the Knight delivered a swift blow towards his legs forcing a defensive block.
Taking a calculated risk, Tristan twisted his blade, forcing Kruber to match him in a blade lock. Hilts rested against blades as they struggled to overpower each other. Despite the leverage advantage, Kruber's endurance and experience proved superior to that of Tristan's; years of throwing around rats the size of children had forced Kruber's body to acclimate, building up large amounts of lean, yet powerful muscles. Entwined blades inched closer towards Tristan's midsection, the force breaking the ground under Tristan's feet, further weakening his guard.
Determining any risky maneuvers to be out of the question, he forewent the opportunity to feint a withdrawal, and dive for an attack. Back-pedalling a few steps to recover his own guard and footing, he unwittingly provided Kruber the space to return to his feet. Once secured once again, he lunged left with an overhead strike, aiming for his opponent's hand.
Kruber's crossguard caught Tristan's blade, leaving him open for an attack. More than comfortable going on the offence, Kruber threw a brutal slash across his chest, the chainmail clinking in protest as it absorbed the attack. A second soon followed, a third coming not too long after. Each blow knocked the teen further and further off balance, every strike coming too fast for him to defend from the defensive.
Every connecting attack, clanked with the teen's chainmail armor. None of the attacks delivered a critical blow needed to end the fight, yet with every passing second he was thrown further and further away from his comfort zone. The offense was too strong and well-timed for him to devote any time to his surroundings or own stance.
With every stride back, he became less certain of where he was going and began to panic as things failed to go according to his plans. His footing became spotty and miss-timed. His defense became nearly non-existent as panic set in.
Eventually, he tripped backwards, the uneven stone ground proving too difficult to navigate for an extended period of time. Kruber sheathed his sword and extended his hand.
"Nicely done lad, couldn't have done better myself when I was your age." Tristan grasped his teacher's hand and hauled himself to his feet. Leaning back and looking towards the sky he took a deep breath, temporarily opening the helmet's visor.
"I've still a lot to work on. Towards the end there I was too sloppy. I definitely need more drill practice"
Kruber's mustache twitched upwards. "All you need to do is trust in your training mate. You've more or less perfected the drills I've given you. Only thing I'd really say is that if you see an opportunity arise - you take it. I know you could've hit me had you taken the chance, you just have to believe in your abilities."
"I'll do my best. Thanks for the kind words friend." He brushed off the dirt from his trousers, picking up his sword once again, surprising Kruber as he swung unexpectedly. A faint call for blood rang at the back of his mind, going unnoticed as the knight stepped to the side, dodging out of the blade's path, and unsheathing his own sword in one swift motion.
"Sneaky that was. Someone's been watching the elf too much." They exchanged blades, locked together once again, this time neither weapon moving an inch. "Anyway what was that about Nico being suicidal earlier?" The knight dropped his blade removing the pressure, ducking under the slice upwards and swiping at Tristan's legs.
Tristan jumped backwards onto a ledge and stepped on the blade that now reached his knees. The blade nearly snapped as it collided with the floor. "He wants to give Kerillian a hug." He winced at the thought behind the helmet's visor. "My fault if he gets hurt from that, I may have given him the idea."
Kruber let go of his longsword, clutching his stomach as he let out boisterous laughter. "Bloody brilliant that is. Finally crack her cold exterior eh?"
Removing his helmet, Tristan shook his head. "That's going to be a solid no. She'll just stab him, if not outright kill him."
"That's a fair point. She threatened to behead me the other day when I asked her to train you two, having said that - I'd wager he'd succeed and survive a few minutes at most. She's efficient at slaughter when she gets mad."
"Let's be honest, probably a few seconds. The idiot got his leg broken the first day he sparred with her. Managed to fuck up his arm too. I don't know how he's still functional." They both chuckled. "It's a miracle he hasn't pissed anyone off yet."
Kruber paused, exhaling slightly. "Didn't he say Salt tried to kill him? I wonder how he managed to wiggle his way out of that one. Taal knows I couldn't."
"Haven't got a clue, not in the slightest." Still bothered by the heat Tristan stretched his arms out, rotating his shoulders gently, stretching them out as he attempted to cool off. Unnoticed by both, he now matched the knight for his size who was also looking uncomfortable in the heat, standing slightly taller with the boost in confidence. "It gets hella hot in this. Feels like I've been in the forge for the last few hours."
"Yeah… you kinda just have to get used to it." Kruber replied. "I will say though, that was a bit sneaky of you. Throwing your sword around like that. It's almost like you actually wanted to kill me. Slice my throat right open, that'd be a pretty sight wouldn't it?"
A brief image flashed across the forefront of his mind. The knight, dead by his feet with a sword through the throat. One slash was all it would take, his sword was broken and guard lowered.
He chalked down to the heat. He'd never harm another person. Each skill acquired would be to save lives, and not end them. One of his beliefs was that death should always be a last resort. For some reason, his stomach still churned at the thought.
"Well" he reasoned, "I might start assassination training with Kerillian, so I thought it might be useful considering that's what you guys do. We're going to need the extra man-power to take on the big threats." The image of Kruber's death returned, red liquid flowing towards his boots, making his skin crawl. It felt as if a thousand insects were scampering, and clawing their way out - feeding on his innards. Against himself, he knew that he saw an opportunity and went for it, but not for practice as he just lied. Some part of him, deep in his mind, wanted him to succeed.
"How'd you even manage to get her to take you on? I've known her for years and she still hates me."
At Kruber's love life's innocence, his stomach began wailing, butterflies slamming into the lining, struggling to break free from its scalding confines. He felt guilty for the part of him that wanted to kill such a kind-hearted man.
Despite his internal strife, his response was still relatively light-hearted, "It's more like tough love I reckon. If she wanted you dead she'd have done it already. That - or she's got a crush on you."
"I certainly know a few people that would find that entertaining. Nico you degenerate."
A sad tone underlined Kruber's voice. "Funny way of showing it then. Alright well - back to topic. Killing is a messy business, and even though we're training you - I'd rather you guys avoid the battlefield for a good while. Death scars a man like no other. I still miss my boys from Ostland."
A sullen battlefield appeared before him, he saw a young Kruber being thrown out of the way from a wind of death by one of his students, a necromancer laughed maniacally from the distance as skeletons and men were torn asunder by the spell. He joined Kruber, as he watched in pain, unable to help as good soldiers died horrific deaths.
"Must be the heat causing me to hallucinate. I will admit I've wondered about what it would've looked like, but I need to cool off."
Before he could initiate any form of motion, Rivulets of blood began seeping from the Necromancer's eyes, the face withering slowly away, the skin peeling away to reveal pulsing flesh, which in time it soon away grew necrose, turning black. The veins too joined it as it melted, a thick black, repulsive substance flowing away. All that then remained was a skeleton that soon withered to dust. All that remained was a skull that dropped solemnly next to a beating heart.
"You alright mate? Looking like you've seen something." Tristan blinked away the image, the Foot Knight stood in front of him, looking worried.
"Sorry, lost in thought for a second." He lied.
"Worried about Nico I take it? He'll be fine. Tough lad, that much I can tell from looking at him."
He didn't have the heart to correct him and talk about what he'd just seen. "Yeah, I guess so. Still feel like he'll do something stupid." Kruber appeared visibly relieved.
"Probably, ah well, maybe we'll find out if elves actually have hearts." An empty laugh found his way through his lips, the images of being unable to help dying men having killed his sense of humour.
The knight suddenly froze in place. Intrigued, Tristan tried to question, once again finding himself unable to - his mouth frozen as his vision swam once again.
Kruber was no longer standing - or lying - in front of him. Instead, in the middle of the courtyard the image of the heart had returned; this time bigger, and beating harder. Each pulse sprayed out droplets that quickly formed into puddles. These puddles grew until they themselves grew into streams of streams. His surroundings slowly turned red as blood began to trickle down his periphery. A few drops quickly became a torrent that transformed into an unending tide. Trying to banish the thoughts he commanded them to stop, but to no avail. He tried to look for an escape, only for him to realise he was trapped and unable to leave. All the exits had been sealed, and locked.
His foot unwillingly began to fidget, arms shaking with his hand hovering over his sheathed blade. The sound of chains clanking together intensified as he shook, rising to supernatural levels until accompanied by the clanging of swords and the screams of dying men. Dwarves, orcs and elves soon joined in, a cacophony of screaming voices. Turning he saw a huge battle before him, the great vortex appeared - he recognised heroes of old and new fighting against an unceasing tide. Both sides waged against the other, gaining and losing ground - although it was clear the unified heroes were being pushed back. Great swathes of land were lost and burned, with entire legions reduced to nothing but dust.
From the edge of defeat, spear-leading a desperate counter-charge, appeared one's side's last hope, a figure adorned in black directed an elite strike force against what seemed to be a khornate tide. Explosions ensued from the carnage that followed. Yet more blood dripped onto the floor from the resulting wreckage - each droplet a symbolic payment for the banishment of a daemon. He could not see their goal, but it was clear they were searching for the opposing champion. Soon, even the elite men began falling, each step paid with the cost of several lives. Eventually, from amongst the daemonic tide he saw the commander, raising an infernal blade towards the sky, raising up a cry that raged through his soul. Rivulets of power seeped from the vortex onto the blade, before the scene erupted in a wave of fire that scorched the core of the planet itself.
All that remained were magical fires, towering towards the heavens like majestic pillars, burning in mesmerising colours he could never hope to describe.
They burned so bright that they began singing away at the edges of his mind. He stood in the centre of them all, tendrils extended towards him. The fires croaked as they scavenged for fuel, attempting but failing to consume him.
Darkness returned, encompassing his vision again, he was still motionless, unable to move even as his eyes failed. The fires fizzled out, the scene fading and presence receding. One last disembodied voice echoed out from the darkness. "This is your fate. Give in to your true inner self."
Kruber's voice broke his thoughts, the vision subsided immediately, Markus reanimating and motioning towards the forge. "Ah well, that's beyond me. Now, I've got to get another training sword as this one's broken. Wait here a minute. Feel free to take your armour off - You look like you're cooking alive.
He wasn't sweating from the heat. The vision and crawling skin had seen to that. Taking a huge gulp and trying to hold himself back he coughed out a short reply, "Yeah… thanks."
"Don't think much of it - you've earned your keep." Tristan nodded numbly in response.
With the lack of distraction from the knight's departure, Tristan occupied himself with his armor. Unclasping the locks keeping his armor secured, it soon came undone. He chucked them aside for the time being, opening up his underlying jacket to not only let the cool air soothe his scorching skin, but to also try and relieve himself of the filth he felt. However, the feeling still clung to him.
Deciding to torment itself, his mind attempted to bring back some of the images he witnessed, perturbed by the situation, Tristan tried to shake his head free of them, instead taking the time to look around, no longer trapped inside the prison of his own mind.
The metallic panging that had accompanied his training session no longer resounded from the forge, meaning Bardin and Nico had probably finished up their crafting.
As if on cue, the forge released one last glorious sparkle out of the window, demonstrating clear signs of Bardin showing Nico how to clean up the workstation. Whilst they conversed in the background. Sienna walked out of the entrance, making her way over to him. A pyromaniac's grin adorned her features, her eyes and hair blazing ferociously in the wind, embers visibly marring the worn brick-work on the walls.
Debating on whether to ask her about what he'd seen, he decided that she wouldn't be able to help much, if at all. He'd need to speak to Kerillian, Saltzpyre or Nico but wasn't sure which one. The latter couldn't help him much beyond some deciphering, and Saltzpyre's superstition and hatred of anything unorthodox or supernatural would almost guarantee his own death. Unfortunately, that left him with Kerillian, who's reaction could not be predicted. He'd have to think more about it and return to the decision later. Sienna was about to talk to him.
If possible, her grin widened as she spoke. "Looks like you've seen a ghost dear; you're ashen pale currently, and quite red in the face. Was training with dear ol' Kruber that bad?"
"Wasn't as bad as I expected to be honest. I was expecting to get completely demolished." Stray blazing embers began building up on his clothes, Sienna's hair flickering in the wind. He tried to brush them off before they could damage them, only for more to take their place. "You mind turning that off? We've got a limited amount of these y'know."
He was dismissed by a wave of her staff. "Ah that happens to mine all the time, you get used to it. I'll fix it for you."
"What are you, my mother?"
"If you want me to be sure." She winked. "Certainly easier to control you than these lot. I've given up trying. Fortunately, Victor's taken on the role of the stern father. Certainly acts like one."
Tristan smirked. "That means Kruber and Bardin are the mischievous twin partners in crime. Kerillian also fits right in as the older, edgy teenage sister."
Sparks continued to fly, completely singing Tristan's clothes as Sienna continued to laugh. "Well then, you haven't completely told me about how Kruber's treated you."
"If I'm completely honest, it had its ups and downs. There was lots of theory before today. Non-stop instructions, parry an overhead strike like this," Tristan demonstrated the position, his blade swung over his shoulder, hilt facing towards his imaginary opponent, "and then counter like this." Simply extending his elbows, his sword descended towards the side of his opponent's neck in what would be a fatal blow. "Drilling for hours on end is taxing and I have to remember everything about every movement, from foot to arm. I do enjoy it though, much more peace of mind than the hectic life I used to have. Temperature isn't great though, I could walk around shirtless but now I'm scorching." He sheathed his sword.
"Well much more enjoyable than studying archaic tomes and listening to monotone professors drone on endlessly." Sienna said.
"Actually," Tristan replied. "I really enjoy studying biology. It's absolutely fascinating; I would spend hours reading about the body. Before being dragged here I was preparing to become a doctor."
"A scholar are you? Didn't take you for one."
He raised an eyebrow. "Funnily enough, there's a stereotype back home that anyone belonging to my race has to become a doctor. I could tell many jokes about how I have to get straight A's and go to medical school or be disowned."
"Sounds more fun than training to be a wizard. Go here, fetch this. Do that, all to be told some useless information that I could've figured out on my own in half the time."
Sienna's fire dimmed slightly, as did her smile. Tristan winced internally, although for some inexplicable reason he felt the urge to ask her about how her magic works. "Damn shame. I'd hope that you would be a little more informative if either of us turned out to be magicians. Speaking of which, mind demonstrating how you actually use magic? I'm curious."
"Not right now. Look over there, Saltzpyre looks like he's looking for an excuse to execute someone." Sienna pointed towards one of the entrances, where Victor stood, largely obscured by shadows. True to her word, a sinister look adjourned his face.
"Yo Salt dude, if there's anything you want to ask, feel free." Nico's voice appeared from the forge. He politely nodded to the man still standing in the entryway, Bardin too raised a greeting as they emerged, attracted by the noise.
"Afternoon Grimgi."
Seeing as his presence was realised. Saltzpyre decided to chime in, asking a question towards the teen. "Much to my shame, it eludes me as to why the Elf numbers her kills. It appears to be repentance of some kind, much like the flagellants that patrol… uncivilised towns."
"Yup. That she does." Nico nodded.
Saltzpyre asked. "May you impart any reasons or indicators as to why?"
"Sir, I don't think that's something we should find out." Kruber tried to intervene only to be ignored.
Nico placed a hand over his chin and began stroking the growing stubble. "Nah, don't worry about it. There's a simple explanation: it's because she-" Lunging for him, Tristan grabbed his friend forcing him to the ground, hand secured over his mouth.
A vicious whisper found its way past his lips, too quiet for the others to hear. "Nico you fucking idiot. Don't say shit."
His friend wriggled out of his grip, hooking a leg out from underneath whilst simultaneously grabbing at his arm. Before Tristan could react, he found himself on his back, ticked off from being unexpectedly forced to the ground. Sienna stared at them slightly confused, whilst Kruber and Bardin both perked, being both interested in what they had to say. Ever true to his routine, Saltzpyre eyed them both with caution and suspicion in copiously high amounts. From above the roof tiles of Bardin's room, a small silhouette appeared, the shadows reflecting the form of an elf with her bow drawn. Despite looking for her, he could not spot Kerillian.
"Right so as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted." An elbow mysteriously found its way into Nico's mid-riff, knocking the wind out of him. "Oi you dick! You jumped on me. I'm fully justified in saying that." This time Tristan trampled on his foot discreetly, grinding down in silent judgement.
Confused as to why he was constantly interrupting him, Nico looked towards Tristan's face, only to see him fixated on the rooftop and the shadows accompanying it. Understanding gleamed in his eye, eyebrows becoming poised slightly higher than normal. The silent exchange conveyed all the information needed. Kerillian didn't appreciate her secrets being spilled, especially with the connotations surrounding them.
Nico took a deep breath. "Basically she just enjoys it. Elves are prideful about their skills, she's no exception. Think about it - Hoggers, bridge - she's talked about killing dozens. You're not going to try to wrestle me again are you Tristan? I'll kick your ass if you do."
"Clearly there's more to her than her sarcastic exterior. She's proud of the fact she killed so many, but hates herself for causing Ubersreik to fall."
A disappointed sigh signalled the annoyance of the dwarf. "Bah, I could've told you that."
"No one likes having their secrets spilled dude. I've told you this before, this is social respect 101. Also, I took it easy on you so shut the fuck up." Tristan eyed the position of the silhouette once again, only to find it missing. Seems like she'd settled for the half-truth. He still wasn't certain if she'd kill them later.
"Yeah well, I guess that makes sense. I sometimes like counting how many swings it takes to cut down a tree." Kruber said.
"Just like I do with how many punches I land on this fucker's face." Nico joked, jabbing Tristan's shoulder.
"And how many times I bail you out. Remember that one game of Into the Nest?" Tristan remarked, an extremely annoyed undertone hidden beneath his voice.
Aware of the hidden message Nico frowned. "Yeah, I should probably do something about that. Cheers dude, appreciate everything you do for me. You definitely carried that mission though. Anyway, we'll catch up later - I still have some stuff to make, others to clear up."
"Ah bugger me, I've forgotten the sword. I'll be a second." Kruber made to leave before being called over by the witch hunter.
"Hold it Kruber, I need your help with some disturbing content. There's something going on and I'd like your input."
"Roger that sir." They returned to the courtyard discussing a possible incursion in a nearby town.
Having said their pieces and with the conversation dying down, Nico and Bardin returned to the forge, the flames reigniting not too long after. Thick smoke puffed out of the chimney, signifying the next stage of his plans.
"Anyway uh, mind demonstrating your fire then?" Sienna snapped out of her thoughts, the air cracking as she whipped her head towards him.
"Can't believe I've forgotten about it. Here you go." She began bouncing in her spot, hair blazing slightly as she summoned the winds of Aqysh. A curtain of fire expelled from the wizard, engulfing the surrounding area in a blanket of flame. Wisely, he stepped away from her immediate vicinity.
"So how does it work?" Tristan asked.
"Not quite sure really, it's like a sixth sense or something. It feels like I'm drawing water from a river in the air. Channel it a bit and boom! Fire!" A ball of flame conjured into her hand, a perfect sphere of fire, something she began to play with, chucking it from hand to hand, juggling it a round before dissipating it.
"We don't have any magic where we come from. Would be sick if we could use it though, but that would probably end really badly." Images of insane battle-wizards accompanying the Nazis found its way into his mind. He shuddered at the thought.
"It is a double edged sword, it's devastatingly powerful, the best of the wizards at the imperial college can lay entire armies to waste with their spells, but at the same time you can be consumed by it and end up transformed, mutated, missing a limb or dying or my favourite - exploding in a glory of flame."
"...At least no one can say you're not passionate about it." he mused.
"Well it's my specialty." Sienna replied with a grin.
"Fair enough. Y'know what? Let's see if I have what it takes."
"I reckon you could be a decent impressionist darling, copy this."
Sienna began a simple series of hand gestures, waving her wrist and circling her fingers around in the air, forming her little fireball once again. Tristan studied the motion, before copying perfectly. As he wove his fingers in the air, it began to circulate around his extended hand at an increasing speed. Through the thick layers of his gloves, he could feel the currents circle around. It continued to speed up, his gloves warming up in parallel.
"Uh, I think somethings wrong -" He began, cutting off short. Something was wrong with him. Hunching over, his muscles tightened, feeling as if they were carrying the weight of the sky. His core activated in painful contractions, a feeling he never before experienced. Heat built until it expelled itself up through his torso. A torrent of flame manifested in his hand, burning wild and sporadically, the fire more closely resembled an ellipsoid than sphere."Holy shit! Sienna! What the fuck!"
Frantically he started waving the ball around. Much to his dismay, it followed his hand, becoming more fragmented and uncontrolled with each passing motion. "Wait.. What?!" Sienna exclaimed. "Uh… Calm down?" Her tone suggested it sounded more like a question than a command.
"I have a fucking fireball in my hands and you're telling me to calm down?" Tristan began panicking. "I can't get rid of it. Do something!" He reached out to grab it with his second hand, only for it to double the size of the flame. Immediately, his stomach seized violently, leaving him unstable on his feet as his mind tried to balance itself. All of his senses were screaming for him to get rid of the ball otherwise it'd envelope him whole.
"Just chuck it anywhere not flammable. Or do, more fun that way." Sienna regained her senses and instructed him.
Summoning the mental strength to overcome the pain, Tristan turned to face the stone forge. Winding his arm like a baseball pitcher, he prepared to throw the fireball.
"Can y'all keep your shouting to a minimum? I'm trying to explain chemistry to~ Oh that's not fucking fair." To his misfortune Nico appeared at the doorway just as Tristan lobbed the fireball. "No! What? Eh?" Nico spluttered before being hit full-force by the incantation. The force of the blow staggered him backwards, tripping over equipment on the floor and landing out of sight with a mighty thud. "Ow."
Bardin immediately proceeded to laugh at his luck. "Bahahaha, serves you right manling."
"Dude why do you keep appearing at the worst times." Tristan grumbled, shaking himself free of the lingering pain, and forced himself to his friend, who was still lying motionless on the floor. "It's like you want to get hurt."
"Kinky." Nico snickered on the ground.
"Not the fucking time." Ignoring his friend's protests that he's fine, Tristan forcefully stripped him of his soot-covered shirt, checking the underlying skin for burns.
Nico smacked his hand away. "I don't have a broken leg this time. I think I can tell when I'm burning alive or not. Well, unless it's third degree because you can't feel it then. Weakling nerves get fried."
"How are you not aflame darling?" Sienna asked.
"Hell if I know, probably just a weak flame that didn't catch light, I'm covered in metal dust so that'll interfere with oxidative rates."
Tristan groaned, "Dude. They don't understand that." Reluctantly, he returned the shirt to his friend, still noticeably annoyed.
"Ah right, Metal. Dust. Make. No. Fire." Nico mocked a neanderthal's accent.
"Well, you could also have a native magic resistance just like the dwarves. You're almost as tall as them you know." Tristan smirked as Nico slowly turned his head towards him, wide-eyed with a maniacal grin on his face.
"Okay you egg, I'll show you who's tall." Nico sprung to his feet and tackled his friend to the floor, playfully punching him a few times as they rolled around.
"Someone's overcompensating for their height." Pinning him to the ground with one arm, Tristan raised his hand and repeated the motion. A smaller fireball that was much more controlled began forming in his hand. He raised it threateningly over Nico's head, his own adjourned with a malicious scowl. "Want to continue?"
"I'm good, thanks." Nico said, paling considerably at the threatening tone.
Tristan chucked away the conjuration without thought. A shattering sound resounded through the area as the ball exploded an empty glass bottle that had been lying around. Shards splintered around, one nicking him in the side of the cheek. An irritated growl left his lips. He raised an fist, preparing to strike.
An angry, nasally voice interrupted their squabble. "What is going on here?" Everybody froze as Saltzypre re-entered the courtyard.
"Nothing." Tristan roughly shoved himself off of his smaller friend, who sprang to his feet, slightly concerned.
"We're just messing around Salt, no worries my dude." Nico attempted to defuse his temperament, to no avail.
"Flaming artifice is not messing around. Witch. Master Dwarf. Step away from the boys. They will answer to me." A commanding tone left no room for discourse. Sienna and Bardin both moved aside as Victor approached them head-on.
"Sir, that might be a bit hasty." Kruber attempted to lay a hand on his superior, only to be cut off with a vicious snarl.
"Lest you wish to join them, I suggest you step back and remember your place sergeant. For your information, they are not at penalty of death. Yet." He added, looking at them expectantly. "Now, explain what I just witnessed."
Victor eyed Nico warily, being more suspicious of the outspoken teen. Raising his hands in innocent protest, he nodded towards Tristan, not being entirely filled in on the situation. "I genuinely have no clue."
"Succinctly put, I asked Sienna to demonstrate then copied her. It was meant to be a joke but uh, now I'm a magician."
"Yeah, it's magical how you think saying that won't get you killed."
Tristan threw his head back and sighed. "Oh fuck off, I wouldn't trust you to sit the right way on a toilet seat."
"Is that a reference to Atkinson?"
"Perhaps."
Nico nodded in satisfaction. "I approve."
"Ahem." Saltzpyre cut them off.
They whipped their heads around. "Si papi?" Nico broke the silence, staring straight into the witch hunter's eye. Neither of them broke eye contact, silently challenging each other. "You have my attention, what would you like?"
Saltzpyre brushed his jacket to the side, dual repeater pistols shining visibly through the inside of his jacket. "There are matters of import to discuss in my quarters. This discovery is concerning... along with several plans I've seen from you. I trust that you will be present."
"Don't worry Salty, I'll be there." Nico said.
He was elbowed again by Tristan who gave him a scathing side-look. "We're well aware of the dangers that come from those learning magic, ailments both magical and mental in nature." Tristan bowed deep in front of the witch hunter. "I'll be on top of my game. You have my word."
"Hmph. That remains to be seen. For now you have my trust, don't lose it." Saltzypre turned and left for his quarters. "Kruber! With me." He snapped. The foot knight left in tow.
"It's not a good idea to rouse dear old Victor, darling." Sienna turned to scold the smaller of the two teens. "You'll end up getting yourself punished, or killed."
She gazed into his eyes, only to see a fierce resistance within. "Look, just leave it. I know what I'm doing, and I'm not one to be cowed by authority. He's scared me once, and I'm not letting that happen again."
"Dawri, being scared doesn't justify being a complete wazzock. You should apologise to the poor man. Family is important." Bardin tried his hand at counselling the boy, only to meet with the same fate.
Tristan watched him physically cringe. "They're not wrong you know, I get sticking to your beliefs, but bro you gotta remember they're adults and know more about this world than we do."
He regarded him cynically. "The moment you start thinking that you're not in control, you begin to lose it." He regarded the dwarf. "We're not family yet. Besides, even if we were, I would say the same thing. I'm honest like that."
"What is that even supposed to mean?"
"It means that I'm speaking from the heart, and I've got something to show you. I'll see you guys later." He gave a two finger salute. "Tristan, meet me by the waystone. Peace." Nico walked off.
"He's going to end up alone, if not dead acting like that." Bardin looked at Tristan with concern. "What are you going to do?"
Tristan sighed. "I really don't know. He means well and will probably come apologise later. He's prideful in a way that he'll accept you're right but not to your face, at least not for a little while." He felt the beginning of a headache coming along. "I'm too tired to deal with this right now. I'll talk to him, and hopefully you'll see us coming out of Salt's room. Either way, got to go."
Shortly after bidding them farewell, Tristan arrived to see Nico sitting on the edge of the cliff, headphones in and bobbing his head to music. He seemed at peace once again, and when he spoke it was clear all animosity was gone. "Wassup." He pulled off his headphones.
The fatigue was clear on Tristan's face. He massaged his temples to try alleviate the pain. "Dude I told you, you still have a limited battery."
"You need to relax and let me take care of things. I also have a solar battery pack."
"Yeah, like almost getting us killed." The bitter reply caused Nico to frown.
"You good?"
"I am now. Sorry. I really don't know what came over me. I'm just really tired right now."
"I somehow really doubt that. You know you can talk to me right?"
"Yeah I do. Cheers dude. But we really need to talk about you."
"I know, they were right, I need to give Salt a bit more respect." Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Okay everyone." He raised the other in a knowing look. "Okay everyone except Kerillian."
"Not only that. What else do you have to do?"
Nico pouted. "Apologise to Bardin and Sienna for being so cold."
"No." Tristan shook his head disapprovingly. "You need to learn from your mistakes. You can't push people away all the time man, I know you mean well," he paused to think about what to say next. To say Nico was right would ultimately lead him to making the same mistakes, as his ego goes through the roof. But if he critiqued him too much he'll fall down a self-deprecating spiral where he doubts his ability which would impair their chances of success, whilst also potentially leading to more screwups down the line. "But you have to give credit where it's due. These guys are going to help us, but only if we work with them. They're not mindless slaves from our games - now they're real people. You kinda have to start treating them as such."
Nico lowered his head in acceptance. "Yeah I guess you're right. I'll go apologise after I speak to Salt."
Tristan blinked. "You mean we right?"
"No. I mean I, you're going to take a shower."
"Dude that's the exact opposite of what I just suggested, we work together not alone."
"You're in no condition to do any planning. That's my forte anyway, I'm not the best with people but I can tell somethings wrong with you."
"I just have a headache."
He let out a defeated sigh. "I still feel like you're lying but fine. I won't press." He took a calming breath. "For what I wanted to show you - Go down just below the waterfall." He pointed to a nearby edge. "Near that weird spot you can drop down. I've installed a shower, just be careful to not slip off."
Tristan snorted. "Please, you're more likely to do that. How have you even finished it so quickly?"
"Bardin helped, and most of the stuff was lying around. Just needed to carve a showerhead and connect it to a tank with heated coals, and add a few valves. Took a couple hours, sure but it's been most of the day." Nico blinked. "Oh and controlled explosives. That was fun."
Tristan looked at him, disbelief plastered on his face. "Explosives? I haven't heard anything all day."
"You're a heavy sleeper." he deadpanned.
"Ah, that makes sense." Tristan said.
"Yup. Anyway you smell. So." He paused for dramatic effect. "I'll talk to Salt about finding other people like us" He paused again sniffing the air. "And you will go and take a shower." Having deliberated his piece, he bade Tristan his farewell, ("Hasta luego!") before marching towards where he last saw Saltzpyre, bobbing his head along to some unheard tune. Just as Tristan was about to depart, Nico swivelled around abruptly, a serious tone in his voice. "By the way, the soap stays between us." Without further explanation, he turned back around and continued his journey.
Chalking it down to his friend's sometimes strange sense of humour, Tristan dismissed the comment, searching for the drop-down as he was directed. Contrary to the game, he found a small hidden staircase, recently carved leading towards the waterfall.
Carefully sliding down the narrow path, Tristan kept an eye out for the shower Nico had allegedly created. He followed along the ragged jut formed by explosions. Soot still covered most of the path, as did loose pebbles that fell for as far as he could see when he kicked them away. Hidden beneath the waterfall, was a simple wooden shower-head, with two more wooden valves, crudely marked with a H and C.
On the right side of the valves, was a well-concealed panel, which once opened revealed several full bottles of modern soap along with deodorant.
On the left side, along with tape-measure and a few pencils and a towel, lay a little rack that hung next to a fire, which burned Tristan's hand when he touched it.
Applying a generous amount of conditioner to his hair, Tristan pondered on why Nico had such a random assortment of items in his bag before being transported. On further reflection, he did recall something being said about the gym which would explain the towel and change of clothes.
What it didn't explain was the note that was pinned to it, reading: "Women frequently ask men why we only use one towel, noting that we have to use it for our dick. This is because women typically have two towels, one for hair and one for the body. The explanation about men however, having one is quite simple. We start at the face and hair, and work our way down. The towel forgets in the morning."
Nor the 18 space marine plushies that lined his bed. What the fuck.
Meanwhile, in Saltzpyre' quarters, Nico arrived, taking an investigative skim-read of the unrolled scrolls of parchments. On each, lay multiple blue-prints and plans, with key points. "Oh right, these plans." Templated on them were a selection of drafted weaponry. A rough sketch of an MA41 Carbine, various tanks ranging from Panzer III to M1 Abrams. There was even a half-drawn helicopter and fighter jet. "Yeah these are stuff I threw away, they're not do-able. Don't have the expertise, manpower or resources. It'll take years to even begin gathering materials so these are out of the equation."
Kruber and Saltzpyre looked at each other. "That's not what we're worried about." They unrolled another parchment, in it were detailed descriptions of each of the keep's residents, along with strengths and weaknesses. "It seems like you're spying on us."
Nico bluntly replied. "No, those are just notes I wrote down to memorise what you guys are like."
Kruber folded his arms, a rare stern look on his face. "I somehow highly doubt that. Did Tristan have a hand in this? Speaking of, where is he?"
"I told him to take a shower, basically a bath but more advanced." Nico hastily explained before they could question what a shower was.
Saltzpyre looked taken aback. "You actually bathe? Unthinkable."
"If we don't, our chances of dying become astronomical. Our immune systems aren't adapted to the viruses and bacterias of the world yet, it's a miracle we've not become ill yet."
A faint chuckle and warm breeze echoed through the room unbeknownst to all. Several candles spontaneously ignited, brightening up the dark interior. "Maybe."
"And here I thought it was just to keep you clean." Scratched his moustache. "And smell nice."
"Whilst that's also true, there's a lot of science to it. Ask Tristan to explain when you see him, he'll explain."
"Heretics the lot of you." Despite his words, Saltzpyre didn't sound like he was serious.
"Alright if that is all I need to find the Elf. I think Kerillian's cuddly." Nico shouted the last part, hoping to be heard. He looked towards the door, and strained his ears hoping to hear any movement, only to find nothing. He deflated in disappointment
"What?" Saltzpyre and Kruber both gawked in horror at him.
Nico looked at them innocently, successfully pulling off a childish pout. "I said I think she's deadly." Their stares only intensified.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed? You'll turn her against you." Kruber slammed his palm into his forehead, only now realising the mistake of entertaining Nico's antics.
"Actually speaking of turning allies against me. I may as well show you this."
One final scroll was unearthed. Within, lay plans for the end of the world.
A/N - Hahahahah evil cliffhanger part 2! Just kidding. Here ya go.
On the scroll, lay another perfect replica of the Warhammer Fantasy world. Extra detail existed on this copy compared to the original Tristan and Nico had first created. Faction colours and borders were written down, with extra resources and standing armies.
The scroll was titled. "The Final Death March."
Countless invasion markers strung together with army counts and time stamps, which in turn synergised with resources and races. Dwarven holds would be raided and exploited for extensive quantities of high-quality steels, metals and rare ores that would be used to fund a growing military. Several Elector counts would be targeted and assassinated, their armies ruined or converted, with the workforce pushed to the brink, mass-producing armaments and defenses to prepare for the coming tide.
Whilst the vampires were purged, the Bretonnians would be swiftly crushed, the wood elves soon to follow. Details revolved around mass production of napalm, used to scorch the earth whilst upgraded tanks annihilated any resistance. All forces were relocated to the northern and southern front, fortifications erected in main-passes to prevent majority of greenskin incursions, whilst mobile militaries hunted down beastmen hordes and skaven undercities. A reserve force was signalled along the Bretonnian shores and near the world edge mountain's, preventing any elf or ogre expeditions.
It wasn't enough.
The conflict would rage on for several years, if not decades longer than anticipated, but all the same humanity would be pushed back. Armies would be lost faster than they could be replenished, and strongholds would become isolated and fall under decade-long sieges. Chaos would adapt, the Skaven unite and overrun the surface world. Morrslieb would still fall, and the orks would rise to match humanities' weaponry in brutal tides of WAAAAAAAAAGHS.
Despite being seasoned veterans of conflict and hardened individuals. Both Kruber and Saltzpyre could only stare as every move was calculated and tolled. The death counts spiralled higher and higher as time progressed until it reached the hundreds of thousands.
"This is humanity's last stand." Nico sat down, a sincere and somber look on his face. His voice was low, and sobre."If everything fails, if we can't stop everything. This is what will happen."
"You must be wrong. Sigmar would never let this come to pass. Our enemies will fall in righteous slaughter." Saltzpyre declared, completely dismissive of what he had just seen.
Nico slammed his fist into the table. "Sigmar is nothing more than a folly of a god." He glared at Saltzpyre out of frustration more than hate. "I respect you, I really do. But your god is weak. Franz becomes Sigmar's incarnation, and he fails to save the world. I cannot sit here and let you deny reality. I ask you for your help because I recognise this cannot be done alone." By the end of his monologue, he saw Saltzpyre visibly seething at the insults to his patron, but calm enough to let him continue. Barely.
"What are we supposed to do then mate? Watch the world burn?" Kruber vented his frustration at feeling powerless, being reminded far too much of his past mistakes.
"That may be the only option." Kruber raised a fist and punched clean through one of the wooden pillars. Nico internally winced. "The only way we have a fighting chance is if I can reach a position of power soon enough, whilst you guys find and train an assassination team to take out major threats yourself. I've spent most nights of the few weeks we've been here talking about this with Tristan. I quite literally cannot see, or think or even imagine another way."
"What are you suggesting?" Saltzypre spat out through his teeth.
Nico leaned back into his chair. In his eyes Saltzpyre and Kruber saw a reflection of themself, someone hardened by conflict, unwilling to back down. In some ways, he was far beyond his years, yet simultaneously behind in others. "I need you guys to help me gain a foothold somewhere in the empire's military." He lowered his head, raising a hand. "I know, I know, it's a tall order since I've recently met you, I'm some strange guy who's from another world and you can't fully trust and yadda, yadda, yadda. All I ask is that you give it some thought. For your sake just as much as mine."
"Fine. When is the next major event?" Kruber asked.
Nico referred to the map. "If I'm to guess, we're probably around turn 2, and if each turn is about a two weeks to a month, then in a sixth months to a year or so the Ork warboss Craktoof will attack helmgart. Either it holds, or Reikland's in trouble."
"Supplant yourself somewhere notable, and we'll take care of the rest. With any luck you may be placed as a Sergeant."
Nico gave one last deep sigh, "Thanks guys. I owe you one." He suddenly perked up, his weary look replaced by one of youth. "By the way, Kerillian." he turned to where the Elf was hiding in the shadows. "Can we train again this evening?" She looked slightly alarmed at his direct eye-sight.
"Absolutely not mayfly."
"But then you owe me a hug." Somehow, she knew that he'd one day collect that debt, to her severe misfortune, and she would not be able to evade it lest she make good on his alternative.
"...Same place as yesterday, half an hour. Don't be late." She disappeared again into the shadows, presumably to prepare. How she left the room without exiting through the door, no one knew.
"Yay!" Kruber and Saltzpyre both stared at the teen who had just let out the highest pitch squeal they've ever heard, something they would expect from an excited 6 year old rather than a nearly-fully grown man. "Bye guys!" Nico sauntered off towards his rendezvous point, head held high.
"He actually did it. The madlad."
"How did he know she was here?"
Kruber shrugged, "I don't know."
Brief summary:
Whew, that took quite a long time to write. 4 months, I feel kinda bad for you guys now. I know how much it sucks for a good fanfic to just go months without updating. I'm going to start making myself write consistently for short periods of time instead of the huge bursts which I'm currently doing.
That aside - quite a bit of plot development going on here. Tristan and Nico are still training, but their flaws and shortcomings are beginning to show through. Nico in particular is a lot more vocal and obvious with his, being unafraid and unrelenting when it comes to his opinions and being heard. Poor fella still means well though. Tristan likewise is struggling, bouncing back and forth between states as his mind is quite frayed from being thrown into a fictional world unexpectedly, and dealing with unwanted thoughts. He still hasn't quite processed everything yet. Regardless, the plot should begin moving from here whilst most things so far have been exposition. So stay tuned!
Daily Dose of banter volume 4:
Today's episode: Nico being a simp.
T: Why don't you play any other characters?
N: I don't like Salt or Sienna.
T: How come?
N: I find Salt annoying with his hate, absolute and blind devotion, it gets on my nerves because I don't like people without balance. Sienna is the same but just addicted to fire which I can kinda get.
T: And Kerillian definitely has balance.
N: *Tries to rationalise any decent argument, including self evaluation and comparison to character traits.*
T: You just like Kerillian because she's a girl.
N: Yeah okay, I'll admit it. She's still a cool character though
T: You're not wrong, but you've been debunked.
N: I'm a simp confirmed. Myth busted.
Snippet of a discord conversation:
N: Enjoyed my short tenure as a gardener, did some work for a few hours
T: Mhm, sounds relaxing
N: You know what else?
Cuddling body pillows
Hehehehe
T: Two smh
N: Yup
T: You got a haram of body pillows
N: Harem*
T: Frick
N: E for exquisite
T: Haram is something else, can't be bothered to remember
N: My body pillow count is haram. Illegal. Banned.
T: 2 is illegal right
N: Morally or socially?
T: Economically :(
N: *Dies of absolute laughter*
Nico - P.S My body pillows ***DO NOT*** have anime on them. No waifus allowed. Only cute eldar ones. Namely Howling Banshees. Speaking of, I do have one as my desktop wallpaper which has been the topic of several fun discussions in my college. She's still hella cute though. Reviews:
GETH Prime: Thank you again for reviewing! Sorry, it's been so long - I had this half written and kept changing ideas halfway through. Ak47's are cool, but I'm much more partial to M4A1's or M16's, I like the sleek look as I'm more of an advanced sci-fi kinda guy. Also Trollhammers to RPG's eh? That might be fun. I wonder how compatible the design is though…
SOUL SURVIVOR: Yaay! I try my best to keep this high quality for y'all, I'm sure Tristan would slap me if I wrote anything dodgy. That's why I leave it for here which he doesn't check. *Maniacal laughter*