Exercise Ground close to Neustadt, Naggaroth

Areta Bane stood at parade rest and watched the mock Bayonet combat between their drill Sergeant Bo Swaggart and a loudmouth from 2nd platoon. That she was able to see the combat so clearly was a miracle for which the price was still due. She had trained most of her lifetime to fight with a repeating crossbow and had been pretty good with it. Then, over the course of several years her eyesight waned. Up close she could still see fine, but everything at a distance was just a blur to her. Her old unit had realized this of course during training and since there was no remedy she was about to be kicked out of the host when her Captain had told her that she had to volunteer for an experimental unit. As she knew that without being part of an army unit she would not have survived the daily struggle of the Druchii society for long she did.

To her total disgust she found that she had volunteered for an auxillia trained, equipped and led by humans in the support of mercenaries. She had not known before that Druchii could be ranked that low as for Dark Elves mercenaries were already the scum of the earth and now she was supposed to support scum?
To her total amazement and delight she found that the humans checked her out and when her eye problem came up no matter how hard she tried to hide it they simply tested a number on "lenses" on her and then issued her with "glasses". Now this must be an invention blessed by the gods-she had been useless and a candidate for some grisly sacrifice one minute and useful warrior again the next.
She learned that nearly all the members of the auxillia she met had similar problems. Some had bad eyes like her, others had problems with family connections (or the lack thereof) and the social skills of some were bad. None of this mattered to the Germans. They gave glasses to those who could hardly see, did not care about anybody`s families and had their own program to do something about the social disabilities.
Every Druchii in her unit knew that this was a "Last Chance" outfit-if they could not make it here they would be thrown into the gutter with no support-the rest of their lives likely would be very short and would still seem to be too long for them.

So even if they knew something much better than the German instructors they did not throw it into their faces, but obeyed and tried to do as instructed-mostly.
While they obviously had to learn how to shoot the new "rifles"-not that they had received them yet-was a given. That the Germans knew more about how to employ the firearms on a tactical level was grudgingly accepted. But teach the Druchii about the ways of Cold Steel-stupid wasn`t it? They had trained with spears and swords longer than these Germans were alive, they were true elves with the speed and reflexes granted to her race-what was there to learn about that?
Thankfully there had been one idiot who had been loud enough that the Drill sergeant had picked him for a lesson. The way the Germans trained Bayonet drill seemed wimpy-both had leather protectors on face, upper body and legs and the steel blade had been replaced by whalebone. But of course the instructors did not want to get injured didn`t they?

Areta had relaxed into the "at ease" position that had been drummed into her the first days and now watched the mock-fight of recruit and instructor.
Both had wooden dummies instead of real rifles which were weighted down with iron and stood in front of each other. Urser Melthis, the recruit from Hag Graef attacked with a thrust to the instructors chest at blinding speed just to have his thrust averted by the huge sergeant. The second attack was just a feint to the stomach that was turned into the real target, the legs at the last second just to be parried by the front of the instructors "rifle" once again. The attacks by Urser were fast, accurate-and went nowhere. The Sergeant had a different position that him-half turned instead of full-front which gave him additional reach and offered less of a target at the price of lesser force and killed swings which could be so devastating with the broad-bladed spears of Naggaroth.

Fending off the attacks by the recruit again and again while rapping him on the knuckles till they bled enraged the dark elf so much that he attacked with less finesse and more strength. For anybody else it was obvious what happened-the recruit was goaded-but the suddenness with which the instructor reversed the roles was still a shock. Scraping the rifle out of Ursers hands he followed with a nasty jab to the chest that threw the recruit on the ground. Reversing the rifle Swaggert jabbed the chest with his bayonet with every word. "Will..you..fools..listen now… This is no spear (jab) this is a rifle with bayonet (jab). You cannot fight it like a spear (jab) you fight it like a rifle with bayonet (jab). You will be too close in the ranks to fight this like a spear (jab) , it handles different from a spear (jab) and it kills differently from your spears (jab) . So (jab) you (jab) fools (jab) listen (jab) and learn(jab).
By now the answer was automatic. "Sir, yes, sir"
"I cannot hear you"
"SIR, YES SIR"
"Better. Fall in and get some chow. Roll call is 18:00. And now get your brides Ladies and Gentlemen"'

By now there was nearly no groaning. Each 10-Druchii squad had their own heavy log they had to carry everywhere at all times and when not expressly told otherwise they were expected to have one hand on the log at ALL times. Punishments for non-compliance were handed out evenly, harshly and quickly and by now everybody had gotten with the program, no matter how hard it was for the individual. There was nearly nothing they could do, including eating and personal hygiene that did not require teamwork by at least two squad members. This was so much against the solitary nature of the Dark Elves that nearly 10% of the recruits were washed out by that so far, but the rest was getting used to it bit by bit.
When Areta`s squad was making its way across the ground she looked at her Dunna who walked before her. "Dunna you bleeder, get that belt tight and sit the cap right. I want at least some meat in my gruel tonight". Her sqadmate would have bitten her head off just a week ago, but by now simply asked for help. Punishments and rewards were handed out by squad and woes betide any squad that did not arrange itself somehow.

ondon, Great Britain, one week later

The room that had used to be a workshop was now dimly lit my many candles, the windows hung by cheap black and red velvet and the ground covered by numerous drawings of symbols and circles drawn by chalk. The air was thick with the small of candles, burning incense and semi-washed humanity.
Several humans all clad in face-and figure hiding robes watched a ritual performed by 3 men in more elaborate robes on one wrapped in a body`s shroud, wrappings that bound hand and foot and covered mouth and eyes.
The officer approached, now that the coffin had been carried into the darkened temple. He stopped with a napkin dipped in the consecrated water the nostrils of the candidate.

Then he started a chant: "Hail thou God Temu, grant unto me the sweet breath that dwelleth in thy nostrils!" and removed the cover from the nostrils of the Candidate, and breathed from his nostrils upon them.
"Homage to thee, O thou Lord of Brightness, at the head of the great House, prince of the night of thick darkness, I am come forth as a pure Khu. My two hands are behind me and my lot is as that of my forefathers! O grant thou me thy mouth, that I may speak therewith, and guide thou to me mine heart in the hour of cloud and darkness!"
Fancy robe removed the mouth wrapping, and kissed the candidate upon the mouth.

"Homage to thee, O Ra, who in thy setting art Tum-Heru-Khut, of thou divine one, O Thou who hast formulated Thy Father and made fertile thy mother! Thou primeval orb, whence all things arise! When thou appearest in the back of thy Bark men shout for joy at thee, thou maker of the gods! Thou didst stretch out the heaven wherein thy two eyes might travel, thou didst make the Earth to be a vast chamber for thy Khus, so that every man might know his fellow. The Sektet boat is glad, and the Matet Boat rejoiceth, and they greet thee with exaltation as thou journeyest along. The God Nu is content and thy mariners are satisfied. The Uraeus hath overthrown thine enemies as thou hast carried off the legs of Apep!"

Unbinding the legs of the Candidate he continued:
"Thou art beautiful O Ra, each day; and thy mother Nuit embraceth thee; thou settest in beauty and thy heart is glad when thou in the horizon of Manu the mountain of the West; and the Holy ones thereof rejoice. The hearts of the Lords of the Tuat are glad when thou sendest forth thy light in Amentet; Their two eyes are directed towards thee!"
The "officer" remove the eye-bandage, made a flash of light, and gazed deeply into the eyes of the candidate, as saying
"They press forward to see thee; their hearts rejoice when they see thee at the end!"Thou hearkeneth unto the cries of them that are in the funeral Chest; thou dost away with their helplessness and drivest away the evils that are about them."

Releasing the bonds that held the hands he grabbed them and pressed the hands of the candidate.
"I am thy father that lifteth thee up!"
Raising the upper body of the candidate he chanted:"Thou givest breath to their nostrils, and they take hold of the bows of thy Bark in the horizon of Manu. Thou art beautiful every day, O Ra! May thy mother Nuit embrace - victorious!"
The officer loosened the shroud, and embraced the Candidate.
Leaving him he walked around the temple 11 times, chanting .

When he finally approached the coffin with the sitting candidate again he finally addressed the Candidate again "Repeat after me: I who am nothing deny all that I was; I who am nothing affirm all that I shall be. I swear that as Nuit is about me, as Hadit is within me, so am I Ra-Hoor-Khuit! And blessing and worship to the Beast, the prophet of the Lovely Star!"

The figure in the coffin had repeated the words faithfully and then opened his mouth in a silent scream. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again they glowed red.
"You losers are so fucked"
The screaming that followed was quite impressive but the former workshop had been selected for its remote location.

Sylvania, one Week later

Ulrich Stoiber watched the valley in front of him through his Binox. The Valley was between two Karst hillsides and was rather beautiful-or had been. Now it had been devastated by two armies who had battled it out in this valley for most of the Campaign season and had killed practically every living being besides themselves, had destroyed every man-made structure and defiled every bit of the landscape they possibly could.
Ulrich 183th Tank Battalion had been moved to Sylvania together with other German units as a Chaos Army led by Crom the Conqueror had not heard the news that the Storm of Chaos should be over and the danger had passed. Instead of retreating back to the Chaos wastes he was still fighting through Slyvania.
Manfred from Carstein had officially asked for aid under the Reiksbund treaty as was his right as a Empire Count and as the Marauders came close to the new Oil Fields his requests were actually heeded.
Deploying the Bundeswehr was much less of a problem to Sylvania than to Middenheim as Sylvania had received railroads early to transport the oil to Germany. Sylvania itself was more of a problem once they had left the railhead. Any road or other infrastructure seemed to be run down, the humans badly fed, clothed and dirty. Parasites and epidemics were s serious problem, but none of that compared to the armed forces that Ulrich and the other Germans were now supporting.

Ulrich thought he had seen everything so far and not much could rattle him but these "allies" were unlike anything he had dreamed to fight with before. He could imagine fighting with Knights, footmen, mages or Dragon riders. And rescuing a princess or two was no longer a boyhood dream but a low-probability possibility.
Yet fighting with undead, animated skeletons and Vampires had not been within the range of Ulrich`s expectations but here he was. It filled him with unease and he would have strongly preferred to be somewhere else but the Khornates were threatening about 40% of Germany`s oil supply. That made the tankers superiors much less squeamish about whom they fought with.
Disgusting as the undead might be, but they offered tactical possibilities that were usually not available. Presently they offered two shambling lines of decaying defense clear across the valley. They were not very deep lines-they could not be-but none could pass them without a fight.

Behind the line of Skeletons and other beings that seemed more at home in a haunted house there was a different army. Barbarians with scant clothing and a surfeit of muscles presented melee weapons and shields. Red-skinned hounds the size of horses were slavering at their mouths, and rides the size of a minivan carried plate-armored Champions that wielded weapons of great reknown. Other, more conventional cavalry of all stripes arranged themselves into blocks. The army was considerably bigger than the undead arranged before them and was psyching itself up for the assault. Swords banged rhythmically on shields, undulating cries carried over the battlefield and chants were making ears bleed literally if one listened too closely.
A more normal human army would have been overwhelmed by this display before any combat would have taken place and Ulrich was not too sure what a line of Bundeswehr regular infantry would have done of this display would have been close to their lines.

But the army of undead could not care less, and the Germans were more distant and mostly vehicle-mounted. Also he was propped by up to 1.6 meters of armor, magic wards, potent weapons and a history of kicking ass bigtime on demand. The chants reminded him of the ceremony performed by the Priests of Ulrik before they left Middenheim for his tank platoon. Despite the barbaric splendor of the fur-clad priest performing a ritual that should have been ridiculous had been deeply moving.
He had been told that the Priesthood of Ulric was very serious about if and the rite that his platoon had been subjected to happened about every 100 years on average. It should have been no surprise that in a world so steeped in war the War God would be ancient and powerful.
The chants and speeches of the priest had struck a chord in the tankers hearts-no matter whether you were driving a 70-ton Monster tank or marched to battle, no matter whether you fired an assault rifle or wielded a hammer some things remained the same. The fear to be overcome, the discipline to follow the plan and the orders, the comradeship that held the unit together and which gave far more motivation for the fight than the flag-these things remained.

He had been deeply in thought after the rites and everybody was quite proud of their flag, the small representations of it on the tanks sides, the snarling Wolf head painted on the muzzles of their guns and the name bestowed on them-Wolfpack. Fanged wolf heads that went around the muzzles should have been tacky and managed to look impressive. A flag that should have been more at home in a tabletop game for juveniles instilled pride and confidence-as well as protection. And some of that pride had stayed the quiet confidence that no target was too big and the nearly feral bond of the tankers crews remained.
But now it was time for another battle.

Crom the Conqueror had a fierce reputation as a barbarian warrior who preferred to slay his enemies in personal combat, but he was also no dummy as a General. Presented with a long, thin line of defenders he formed his army in a deep block of far more depth than the line in front of him. Light cavalry went out a couple of times, riding close to the skeleton lines and loosing volleys of arrows from their powerful composite bows. While this may now have been pleasant to Khorne it would reveal weak points in the line where to place the "Schwerpunkt" the point of the main attack. Crom was an ardent follower of the Blood God but even he saw the necessity to balance his demands against the requirements for victory.
When the horsemen volleyed the arrows at the undead the answer was a weak one-some arrows were lobbed back and at the center of the line Skeletons in the frayed livery of the Sylvania Militia answered with crossbow fire. As the undead were indifferent marksmen the results were not encouraging. A human army under similar circumstances would have severe morale problems by now-being under fire without the possibility of fighting back is bad enough as it is, but the undead could care less and continued to close ranks whenever some of them fell. Amazingly no fighters from the last two lines stepped forward and so the gaps between the skeletons in the left flank became so big as to threaten formation.

That seemed to be enough of an opening for the Chaos Warlord as Ulrich`s Binox reveled the cantering lines of heavy cavalry that committed to the attack closely followed by endless blocks of diverse infantry who showed their nearly inhuman stamina by double-timing towards the enemy under whatever armor they wore. The Cavalry accelerated into a gallop roughly 200 meters from the undead lines. Ulrik had participated in some battles on this world already and read about many more so he could guess at the Enemy`s plans-the Cavalry was to breach the lines and after reforming attack the defenders in the rear while the infantry slammed into the front ranks. That would work better against humans than against the undead but still would be devastating enough.
The Skeletons in the first line lowered the butts of their spears to the ground and fixed them with their feet, the second rank pushed their weapons through the gaps of the first and faced the approaching Juggernaut with no perceptible feeling.
They were a thin line of bones tipped with steel faced with an assault they could not stop and did not waiver a centimeter. In humans this would have indicated fanatical courage, in them it was simply a lack of fear or feeling.
The long lances of the heavy cavalry outranged the spears of the undead and even the most steadfast warriors could hardly stop the momentum of nearly half a ton of rider and steed. Making a sound like an accident in a wooden furniture factory the cavalry broke into the defenders ranks with ease. A breakthrough and the subsequent attack of the defenders rears were inevitable-until the attackers found that not all was as it seemed.

There was a gap between the undead lines that was not the result of sloppy formation-it hid a full line of S-Wire which viciously waited for victims strung all over the valley. Anchored very well it slowed or tripped all but the mightiest rides and caused a pile-up of epic proportions. Slowed down and unable to ride past their stalled brethren some Champions searched for the undead leaders to slay them in glorious melee combat. Ripping through the skeletons that shielded the bigger and better equipped undead they took the losses that seemed so necessary and pushed on regardless. To their delight even these works of necromancy went down like ninepins. The first ones were considered unremarkable in the fury of battle but when this continued the Chaos Warriors took notice. They were about to realize that something was definitively off when the infantry arrived and added their pressure into the attack. This was enough to force the defenders lines in several placed and the infantry started to attack the vulnerable flanks of the thin lines. A human army would have retreated, either orderly or as a rout but the skeletons were destroyed where they stood.

Whoever gave the orders to then undead had the unengaged defenders wheel inward and attack the Chaos Army`s flanks, causing additional confusion. The Chaos Champions were still trying to take stock and reorganize the melee when Attackers and defenders alike were locked up in a huge, dense clusterfuck that did not move either way.

Ulrich Stoiber watched all of this with professional interest, favoring neither side as he found both repugnant. Yet he started to worry about timing as this seemed like the right moment to interfere. He was debating with himself whether he should call his superiors about it when the Battalion net came alive with the calls of "Braun 1-out"
Sylvania had received very good railroads soon as the country held numerous easily accessible oil fields. In some cases the drills had barely bitten into the ground when fountains of dirty fluid indicated that another well had been found. By now a virtual herd of hammer pumps dotted the landscape and kilometer longs trains brought their bounty to oil-starved Germany.
This railroad network had easily handled the transport if the "A-Team" as the armored combat group that had handled the beastmen so decisively a little while ago. Some units had changed from their last battle, but this was the flower of the German "Panzertruppe" and they were about to do something about the remnants of the Chaos Crusade for good.

The melee combat that covered such a substantial part of the valleys floor was an artilleryman`s dream-lots of unmoving infantry in the open at a predetermined place. One of the most important rules of German armored tactics was "Klotzen-nicht kleckern"-don`t do things by halves. And what was about to happen was a showpiece of this motto.
No less than 12 MLRS launchers adjusted their elevation and bearing minutely according to the latest wind data and disgorged 12 missiles each. Leaving white contrails like lightning going in the wrong direction death was moving downrange at speed. Rotating for added stabilization the missiles seemed to disintegrate at attitude when the dispensed their payloads and a deadly hail of more than 90000 Bomblets descended on the heavily fought-for battlefield obliterating friend and foe alike.
A ripple of small explosions washed over the valley`s floor with too many simultaneous explosions to be differentiated by ear, giving a sound like the surf to end the world. Wherever they fell the bomblets caused incredible destruction. Flesh was rent from bones by fragments and overpressure, organs pierced, belly and breasts opened to the air and blood spilled in amounts usually counted in cubic meters. Two armies were under the iron flail wielded by the German artillery and both were devastated-mostly.

No ordinary infantry was spared, the huge blocks of heavy cavalry would ride no more and the undead found a final rest. Yet not all of the Chaos army was bound by the rules that mere mortals considered ironclad. What seemed like flesh and armor which should have succumbed to the effects of all the explosives was literally a different matter in very few cases. Flesh that would not yield bunched and blood that did not flow burned with hate. Powerful mages collapsed the fields of magical energy that had protected them from the trap the Germans had sprung. The cries of the survivors reverberated over the battlefield and the truly dangerous denizens of Chaos clamored for bloody revenge.
Neither did the skeletons escape the destruction-practically without exception they were rendered into unrecognizable splinters granting a final end to the undead.

The tanker who had watched it all dropped back into the hatch which closed above him. "Ok, the arty has weeded the chaff out-let`s take care of the worthies that are left. Platoon-get ready for an assault. Our targets are the survivors on the east side, we move out by even numbers.
The Wolf howling that went over the Platoon net was not good communication practice but fit the mood of the tankers perfectly-the Wolfpack was on the hunt.
While the tanks advanced to contact Ulrich could see glances of other engagements through his monitors-a pair of Gepard tanks ripped into a couple of Bloodthirsters who had taken flight to close with them. The Air-Defense vehicles were built to take care of supersonic planes and had no problems at all tracing the comparatively slow demons. When their elderly computers had solutions twin 35 mm guns spat out long lines of tracers and cartridges falling in a stream from both sides of the tanks bore testimony of 550 rounds per minute per barrel which tore into the Demons.
The rounds themselves would not immediately kill the huge and tough targets but they took out eyes, ripped up wing membranes and brought incredible pain. Hurt and confused the normally mighty demons Bloodthirsters were reduced to pitiful targets.

A pair of huge armored figures on Juggernauts were sprinting forward to close for melee combat and were hit by 120 mm rounds fired by other platoons-but now their targets got into range.

Resembling nothing so much like the picture of a devil made flesh the Bloodthirsters towered over the battlefield screaming their range. As Ulriks tank platoon had learned to their chagrin their axes could damage a MBT and the axe`s wielders could keep pace with their vehicles. Having had several sessions discussing tactics the key to defeating them was distance and movement-do not let the fraggers close with you and keep them under fire as quickly and as accurately as possible. Keep changing course like in the old times when duels between tanks were anticipated so the demons could not plot an intercept course and fire on the move. Keep close to some anti-air units as the assholes could fly short distances. Fire and movement tactics were still valid but movement was more important as the stopped tanks were vulnerable. For the demon 500 meters was beyond his range but for the tank a hit even when shot on the move was easy.
Time to see whether their thoughts were worthy.

The Bloodthirster that dropped in front of Ulriks tank had barely avoided the Gepard`s fire and seemed to appear from nowhere. Still several hundred meters out the German tankers had enough time to acquire the target and to shoot an APDFS projectile at the threat.
When the Tungsten-Carbide dart was accelerated down the gun tube it was an object of great kinetic energy that was about as likely to hurt the demons warp-borne flesh as not. When it passed the wolf`s head rendering close to the muzzle it picked up some of the war gods indignation and hate at the followers of Chaos. Now the inanimate matter that was hurled at several times the speed of sound was represented in the warp as well and when it hit the sternum of the hulking Bloodthirster it smashed the bone into tiny pieces and fragments of hot metal cascaded through the unearthly chest.
The Demon faded out of reality before it stained the ground below it. Another Bloodthirster was hit at least two times simultaneously and did not even scream before it went into its realm. A group of Champions mounted on Juggernauts assaulted the tank platoon, even if it was unclear what damage they wanted to cause. Ulrich stopped his tanks for better shooting at the agile targets when one of the Gepard tanks providing overwatch let loose. Build to engage much faster targets they had no problems at all going after the half-mechanical steeds and the all-maniac riders.

Bursting hydraulic lines pumping blood and ripping through organs intertwined with hot brass the Anti-Air tank stopped most of the assault within a minute. The rest of the targets were not doing anything that Ulrichs old instructors in their simulators had not also done. They tried to close the distance with a zig-zag course that was designed to throw the aim of the gunners off for long enough. As they could not shoot back the Germans could stop for improved targeting and that showed immediately.
The gunner in Ulrich`s tank calmly laid his crosshairs over his assigned target. When the improved laser range finder gave reasonable results the speed by which he had to turn the turret gave the fire control computer an idea of where to put the gun tube so that shell and Juggernaut would arrive at the same time and place. Putting the crosshair where the targeting indicated the gunner loosened a shot which rocked even the heavy tank. Before the recoil stopped rocking the tank the Juggernaut had disintegrated into its parts-and Ulrich had assigned his gunner the next target.

On the hills surrounding the valley some Fleshhounds were tearing into a dismounted heavy weapons squad that had not gotten away in time. When they consumed the sparse remains the 30 mm autocannons of the Puma IFV that had been kept from firing by the proximity of the German soldiers exacted revenge on Khorne`s hounds.
Ulrich was scanning the battlefield for other threats when the only remaining one was a solitary figure on the biggest Juggernaut they had so far spotted. Practically standing on the back of his steed he presented two huge axes and screamed a challenge that could be heard even over the tanks rumbling engines. He was shot at by so many main guns, autocannons and machine guns that it was impossible to say who got him, but there was no dispute at all in that he went down-and to pieces.
The worst danger remaining on this battlefield were the unexploded bomblets from the MLRS salvo.

Starbucks, County Hall, London, same date

"Here is your Latte grande, Sir."
"Thanks dear." The man handled over a five and three single pound notes. The waitress was too interested in the guest to be miffed at the low tip. Somewhere in his 30`s with a rail thin figure he was bald as an egg and sported a goatee as well as a Van-Dyke beard. The most remarkable thing about him where the eyes. She could not put it, but the eyes were different and startling. With Iris so blue that they seemed to glow and pupils that seemed too deep like they were tunnels into deep space-a space full of tiny stars.
Realizing that she had stared far too long at the customer she jerked back just to find that the man had looked right back and had a slight smile on his lips-but the smile did not reach his eyes and the smile would look at place at a cat that was looking at a mouse between her paws.
"Thanks hon, that would be all"
Going backwards slowly as one might from a great danger or the object of unattainable desire the waitress made her way backwards until, she turned around and went off slightly too fast.

"Come on then, drink that coffee Markus. I savor the sensation" Ml`kan, lesser Servant of Tzeench sounded like a slightly petulant child.
"Nobody told you that delayed pleasure is best? Besides that the coffee is too hot to drink, we have to wait a minute before we can drink."
"You can spend that time than by explaining the "bloody inflation" to me, why is that making you so angry."
"If you can see my thoughts so well, why do you not take the answer from my mind as well?"
"How many more times now do I have to explain to you that I can read only the top layer of your thoughts, your consciousness, anything else is closed to me till you smoke that blessed weed again."
"As if I would, the last time was quite enough, thank you"
"Without me you would have never made it out of that room alive."
"Without you there would not have been any need for your strength and aggression. Read my lips: This was not a human sacrifice; it was the attempt by some useful idiots to invoke magic now that we know that magic can work in this word. I never believed that any of them could so much as boil an egg with magic but some would have been useful to network with. Jesus, two of them worked for Goldman Sachs-do you have any idea what an associate there earns?

"You brought it on yourself-dabbling with magic is full of opportunity and danger. But in this world the winds of magic are so weak that they might not even be there. Otherwise I would never be bound to such a weak vessel that…"
"Still I am more than happy that you are not at the helm at present old boy. Do not think that more bloodbaths would be conductive to our wellbeing at present. You still want to participate in that coffee?"
"AAAh-yes. But now explain."

"Ok, here goes. You remember that I had paid 8 quid for that little coffee? This is what inflation means-you pay more money for the same thing than last year. Well before the bleeding Euros got really mad that would have cost about half that. But then Germany went away and just left us this blasted swampland with a city full of medical traders and weirdoes. In the panic that went after that Greece-that is a state southeast from here-went bankrupt and didn`t that send lovely waves through the entire financial world? Before a couple of other states went under the ECB-the central bank-did what we all told them to do before the Event anyway. They bought up all the state bonds of the Eurozone that anybody was willing to sell at nominal value. That injected a LOT of cash into the system-the banks could lend money again at very low rates. The states that had excessive debt were bailed out in a rather painless way-at first. The USA can do that pretty easily-most US Dollars circulate outside the US anyway and with that many around they can print some more without the value dropping too the Eurozone is a different matter. It also meant that there was more money for the same amount of available merchandize-actually less as one of the bigger suppliers was just gone. On top of that the confidence in the Eurozone dropped a lot when their biggest economy went away-plus they got into problems with missing infrastructure.
All of that meant that the value of the Euro against Pound and Dollar dropped like a stone. So anything the Euros buy from outside their zone-be it oil, Hollywood films or airplanes costs way more"

"So-you do not pay with the Euro don`t you?"
"No, we don`t. But if we would have let this slide we could not have sold anything to the bloody Euros-so we had to make sure the pound did not rise through the roof-so we got the same disease, nill-they, will they. And the Japanese were not looking at Peugeots and Fiats costing half of what a Toyota or Mazda cost in the US or in South America. So now everybody has it more or less."
At first that seemed to work fine-lots of money spend meant that the economy was looking up and the states were able to invest more. But when the price for Petrol, Bread and whatnot climbed people realized that their pension or their dole or their low level income did not rise at the same rate. People with property were well off-that remained, but the rest…"

"Sounds not so clever."
"I do not think there were painless ways, but this one was probably one of the more stupid ones. Nice one…"
"Nice one what?"
"The Jaguar that just went by. They are all the rage now, everybody wants to have one. Before the Plutocrat barges were all Daimler, BMW and Audi. Now that they are gone Jaguar is all the rage and brands like Lexus finally get going over here. Mind you, there are still new Audis to be had, but they are all build in China with no German supervision now-it`s not the same thing anymore.
"Ah. Why do you cave such a car?"
"It is faster, It looks and handles better…"
"It looks like the top speed here is about 20 mph-are they faster."
"No this is the city dummy. But you are right-even a souped-up Vauxhall is fast-these cars are a symbol of wealth and power and convey status to others, just like clothing or the right apartment."
"Ah-status, that I understand."
"Thought so."
"So how about…"
"Your invoice Sir."
"I don`t…sorry dear, thank you. I do appreciate that."
"I hoped you would sir"
"What was that about?"
"I did not ask for an invoice so I was surprised. But the mobile no on the invoice`s back means you are about to sample sensations you did not dream about…"