10000 meter AGL, Silvania, Markttag, at night 3. Erntezeit
The plane flew through the cold dark nighttime air above Silvania at great speed, yet it would be next to inaudible on the ground far below as it was ten kilometers above any potential listener.
Only very few lights could be seen below, the most prominent one being some kind of castle on a hill many kilometers ahead. Inside the cavernous cargo room of the plane bulky, power suited figures uncoupled themselves from umbicals and walked to the ramp at the aft end of the plane. Joakim Vos checked the pack on his partner back, turned to allow him to do the same and then pulled a specialist toward his armored chest to attach her harness to his.
The loadmaster signaled the same thing as the lamps, the ramp opened and the temperature inside the plane dropped from cool to arctic in seconds, accompanied by shrieking wind noises.
Joakim triggered the jump function of his suite`s legs when the lights went from yellow to green and was catapulted from the plane. Two stubby wings deployed from the backpack and allowed him to stabilize and steer his fall. In this mode the right thumb of his glove was restricted in movement and Joakim`s finger input was interpreted as if he were moving an invisible joystick. By moving his legs and the wings he managed to keep his flight path within a funnel-shaped space that was projected inside his visor. "Ulrika-all ok?"
The scream that filled his ears was part human, part hawk and all predator. The Lieutenant was pretty sure this meant that all was good and continued with the flying.
Jens Neugebauer heard a chime in his earphones and saw the "go" message appear in the lower left corner of his visor. He had been on the hilltop a kilometer from the castle since yesterday and had been in this position for eight hours. The scope on his rifle projected several silhouettes on the tower and walls and he had the first one in the crosshairs. Checking that the computer had indeed digested the latest data on crosswind and temperature he settled the crosshairs on the one nearest to the approaching gliders. Pulling the trigger sent the first projectile downrange that was followed by six more in the next 30 seconds. All blobs changed their position and then stopped moving.
Thumbing through the available messages in the menu he sent an "all clear" to all parties.
"Driver-advance. Drone operator-scan the road in front. Wolfpack two, follow our lead." Ulrich Stoiber led his two-tank force from the small copse of woods where they had spent the last two days on the winding road that led to the castle a couple of kilometers away. The tanks did not use lights as not to attract too much attention. The drivers had excellent night-vision optics to navigate by-not that they needed them anymore. The tanks were loud enough to raise the dead, but by the time somebody on the castle could determine what was happening they would have bigger fish to fry. The tanks had already advanced by two kilometers when Ulrich`s optics projected a series of red circles across the path they were to take.
"Skipper, Drones here. Drone shows something magically active clad in metal buried below the roadbed."
"Skipper here, acknowledged. Driver, Wolf 2-halt till further orders."
The tank commander studied the picture in his helmet mounted display and added a bird`s eye view. Of course the little assholes in the castle had mined the only place around where he could hardly detour. The hills on both sides of the road were too steep. None of his tanks had a mine plow and time was of an essence.
"Skipper here, Drones paint the probables with the laser. Wolf 2-can you pick up the markers?"
"Wolf 2-yes, we see it."
"Fire a burst of AP at each."
"Wolf 2-we have a fire mission."
The 35mm gun on the second tank put a three-round burst of armor-piercing ammo at each target and was rewarded by small puffs of smoke.
"Skipper here-Drones talk to me"
"Drones here-magical activity is much lower now."
"Driver, advance. Wolf 2 follow once we have passed the mines."
"Wolf 2 acknowledges."
Ulrich tried not to cringe when the tracks of his tanks passed the shallow craters in the road, but nothing happened.
Joakim Vos triggered the servos that reigned in the two wings and deployed the parachute a few hundred meters above the castle. The parachute harness made sure that he now hung upright instead of flying head-first, he now steered by pulling on the risers to his left and right. As soon as he had established his course he looked at the status board. So far it looked like everybody had made the jump and would more or less arrive at his assigned place and time. A small miracle, but one strongly aided by the controlled decent provided by their new drop systems.
His chosen landing spot was the top of one of the castle`s walls which allowed him sufficient place to stop his momentum and offered several potential points of entry. The landing was less awkward than he feared and Ulrika was out of her harness in a flash.
"Thanks for the ride soldier-boy. Where do we go now?"
"I check on the drones, and then we take the watch tower there, from there down to the first hall. Take overwatch for 30."
The status board that was projected inside his helmet indicated that his team had landed successfully and everybody was able to perform their part of the mission.
Switching to a different display mode his helmet display split into several smaller pictures coming from several Spider drones that Neugebauer had infiltrated into the castle during the last days.
As expected there were several groups of undead converging in halls and chambers throughout the fortress and a major ritual was performed in a cave under the castles inner bailey.
"Paladin one and two-go for the western tower, we meet at the hall on second floor. Paladin three-go to the corridor west, secure it and the bailey. Five and six-get through the hall on the western side, we meet in front of the cave. Get to it."
Switching back to normal view he signaled Ulrika to follow and ran towards the door at the lower end of the tower in front of him. Joakim found it barred from the inside which did not surprise him.
"Ulrika, one flashbang, one frag. Go on three."
Positioning the suits legs just right Joakim extended a metal bar from his suits right arm past his hand. On the count of three he triggered another function and punched the door with far more force than he could have managed without the actuators. The punch took out the lock of the door and allowed him to push it inwards.
He had barely opened it wide enough when two grenades sailed by him and he ripped the door back shut before taking a step back. Several extremely loud bangs nearly overwhelmed his suits protection and intense light was seen through every gap in the wood.
He ripped the door back open and entered it with his assault rifle extended, yet was greeted by a whole lot of nothing.
The pair made their way down the spiraling stairs that terminated in another door. This one opened more easily just to reveal dozens of weapon-wielding skeletons. Joakim pulled the second trigger on his rifle and the underbarrel launcher released a cloud of white smoke that covered a large part of the undead horde. When the smoke cleared most of the skeletons were either lying on the ground on standing motionless.
Shouting "Secure left" he stepped into the room and turned right. There was nothing, but the burst of fire behind his back told of some enemy who had tried to ambush them from behind the door.
Turning back into the room he shot a burst at each of the still-mobile undead, the last of them being hit from him and Ulrika both. Stopping briefly to check on the rest of his team who made acceptable progress so far.
Going down the hallway revealed no new surprises but when they neared the next set of stairs Ulrika had to guide them around some sort of trap. Beyond that was another set of stairs and another bunch of skeletons that moved too much.
"Grenades" sent a brace of round objects down the stairs while the two retreated a few steps. When they stepped forward again they found the undead in many pieces-and the wooden stairs had mostly disintegrated.
"Fuck Fuck Fuck"
"You can jump down yes?"
"Yes, I can-but not with you attached."
"So-go ahead, I`ll follow"
Joakim, still feeling like an idiot, found a fitting ledge on the other side, painted it with a laser and engaged the suit`s "jump" function. Turning around he saw Ulrika crawl down the wall, head down and using every nook and cranny the stone wall offered. She had her boots attached to her belt and her toes revealed alarmingly long nails that seemed to stand the abuse well.
He took the second jump that brought him to the floor and offered an arm to stabilize the Vampire who donned her boots again.
"Lieut-we have to hurry-it feels the ritual is getting close to completion."
"Understood. All Paladins-make haste, we have a party to attend."
Ulrich Stoiber saw the turret of Wolf two turn rapidly, the autocannon belched fire, the turret turned again and the process repeated itself. The datalink showed that the flying bogies were much less than a minute ago and rapidly retreated and put his attention elsewhere.
"Gunner-target is castle´s gate-one round HE."
"HE up"
"On the way"
Even the massive tank rocked when the 140 mm gun fired. When the twin dust clouds of shot and impacts settled the optics revealed the entrance into the castle instead of the sturdy wooden edifice that had been there before. Ulrich could not drive the tank there-it was too big. But he could do something else.
"Gunner, load grudge and target the ground in the middle of the yard. Shoot anything comes through that."
"Gunner acknowledges"
"Drones-put out a perimeter."
"Acknowledged"
In the back of the tank two more quadcopters rose from their storage and started to patrol the open space occupied by the tank.
Now he could do nothing but wait.
Joakim arrived at the cave`s entrance just to find that the rest of the team had beat him to it. They did not have any time for gloating as an unending stream of things that should lie below the ground emerged from two tunnels.
Their machine gunner was firing into one group practically without pause, trusting the stellite barrel of his machine gun to take the heat while the other shot their assault rifles alternatively to stop the others. This tunnel led to the cave where the ritual they had been ordered to stop was held and time was running out.
"Four and Ulrika-on me. The rest keeps the exit clear."
Joakim was tempted to use another flame cartridge for his underbarrel launcher to clear the tunnel in front of him, but the phosphorus in them would burn too long. Short bursts took care of the first undead, Ulrika and Paladin 4 did their best-and yet there were always more of the buggers. Only one thing to do.
Lowering a shoulder like he were on a rugby field Joakim simply ran into the mass, trusting momentum, power and armor to take care of things. Whether the undead were able to feel surprised was an open question, that they were pushed aside and often dropped as a pile of bones clear. He had saved the contents of the next magazine for what was a last-ditch effort. From where he was he could see glimpses of robed figures dancing around some symbols on the ground. Firing the rifle at full auto was not really efficient but gave him the space needed to get a satchel from his belt, pull a cord and throw it over the heads of the undead in front of him into the cave beyond.
"Fire in the hole-get back, get back" went together with turning around and seeing that Ulrika and Paladin 4 had demolished the skeletons he had left behind, in Ulrika`s case literally.
He was on the way back to the entrance when a soft "Whump" could be heard and white smoke emitted from the cave in his back.
He arrived at the entrance just in time to see a well-groomed, immaculately clad man step from an alcove and clap his hands.
"Well done lads, Ulrika I am proud of you."
It went together with an "Endex" that was transmitted through all earphones and channels.
There was a brief postmortem half an hour later in one of the halls that had not been demolished.
Oberst Grube took the lectern and looked at a pile of notes before beginning.
"First off-thanks again Count von Carstein to give us this Castle and opposing forces for this exercise, it is hard to imagine a more realistic training environment. I am also mostly happy with everybody`s performance but for a couple of glitches, which we should discuss as long as everybody remembers committing them…"
Charite`, Berlin, Bäckertag 3. Erntezeit
Heinz Albers ran his fingers across his face again. He felt the skins heat, felt every bump and every hair on it. When he closed his hand a little he sensed it both in the fingertips and on his balding head. Incredible, simply incredible.
The surgeons had amputated his right arm after the battle for Skavenblight and by all accounts it had been nearly too late. A Skaven assassin had wounded him with a poisoned dagger and only the tourniquet that a fast-thinking medic applied had saved him from an early death. While the doctors were able to stabilize him enough to survive nothing but removal could be done about his right arm. He had been rather depressed about it for a while till he had heard about an experimental program run by the Charite` and had signed up to it.
"It is a miracle, a bl..wonderful miracle Mother Serena. It moves just like my old arm-and I can feel with it. How on earth did you do that?"
The woman in the grey robe on the bed`s side smiled.
"Brother Ralf would be the better person to answer that Herr Albers, but this is mostly a technological miracle. If I remember correctly the then the prosthesis has an artificial skin of three layers. One to give you a feel about the bending and flexing, one for pressure and one for temperature. The mechanics have been developed from ones used in powered armor.
Our task was to make sure that your nerve ending bonded to the right receptors in the electronics. From what you say the prosthesis seems to work fine which is a blessed thing Herr Albers."
"Very much so Mother superior."
When the blaster watched the Sister of Shallya go he asked himself if she had always been this good looking.
Weijin, Markttag, 1. Brauzeit
The room around Areta was a mixture of what she knew and some things that were quite different. The rice-straw mat for sleeping was not so different from what she was used to, the furniture with very slender legs and details close to Druchii aesthetics but the colors and ornaments were totally different. Flowing and round where she was used to angular and sharp, red and wood-colored where she had been brought up with black and grey took some time to get used to. On the other hand having a room for her own while deployed ranked as high luxury anyway. Currently she was sitting in front of a sheaf of paper and copied the handbook she had been given. She had been told that this was a tradition in the German army and supposedly helped her to memorize its contents. In fact it gave her another job that she could do half-asleep. The handbook was brand-new and assembled by some of the Germans that ran the first officers training course for Druchii that the mercenaries ever had.
She was by now quite happy to have followed advice and had bought a ball pen when "Britta" had made the last supply run. It had cost her about the same as a weekend with a good whore but the ease and speed of writing now made up for it. The trader had told her that the "Bic" pens were especially good and she dreaded the time when its cartridge would run dry. Yet until then she could copy the text in front of her.
For a mission-focused command to succeed, it is crucial that subordinate leaders:
understand the intent of their orders
are given proper guidance and
are trained to act independently.
The obverse of this is the implicit requirement imposed on superior commanders:
to give their subordinates no more orders than are essential (every order given is regarded as an additional constraint upon its recipient), and:
to be extremely rigorous, absolutely clear, and very succinct in the expression of their commands.
The success of the doctrine rests upon the recipient of orders understanding the intent of whoever issues the orders and acting to achieve the goal even if their actions violate other guidance or orders they have received. Mission-type tactics assume the possibility of violating other, previously expressed limitations as a step to achieving a mission and are a concept most easily sustained in a decentralized command culture. This is quite alien to any organization in which, at every level, a subordinate commander is only expected (and, therefore, trained) to follow detailed orders.
This has significant implications for any army considering the adoption of Auftragstaktik. To clarify, this approach calls for every commander to be trained to function effectively at two levels of command above his appointment.
She stopped when she read the last. Two levels above her current job would mean she would take command from Wolfgang Böhler-no way in hell she was that good.
Forbidden City, Weijin, same time
Wolfgang Böhler was feeling overwhelmed and a fool at the same time. Overwhelmed by the forbidden city which was an area of several kilometers absolutely covered by the buildings of the Imperial Government. There was not a single huge building but very many of them, some bigger, some smaller and all connected by covered passageways. A lot of it was yellow-wall drapings, upholstery, clothing-nearly everything. Yellow was the color of royalty. Despite its size it was chock-full with people of all callings, but mostly the eunuchs that made up the top rank of bureaucracy. He felt a fool as he had been decked out in the formal garb of a Mandarin which was supposedly a high honor but made him feel hot, restricted and stupid. His current position was not doing anything to improve that as he knelt in front of the throne with his brow on the floor and his ass as the highest point. Which meant he could not see the Emperor, only hear the high-pitched voice.
"You may rise Tidu Wolfgang."
Rise of course meant lift his upper body, not get on his feet and face the "Light of Heaven" at the same height.
The emperor was sitting in a gorgeous throne which looked like it had grown into its very shape. The symbols on its back proclaimed this place as the center of the universe and its inhabitant as its ruler. The Emperor was clad in a huge swath of the finest silk and nearly drowned in it as it was to be expected from a ten-year old.
"Tidu Böhler, I have wondered much about that silly name you gave your fine soldiers. What a name is "Wild Geese"? If we employ you like this I would be taken as a farmer. As long as you are in my service you will be the cháng shèng jūn-the Ever Victorious Army, as you have earned that name.
Altdorf, Evening, Festtag 6. Brauzeit
Aurelius of the House of Ethelorne, Asurian Ambassador to the Reiksbund should not spend his time on such a matter, really. Yet even an ambassador has some spare time and he found it difficult to sleep after having to eat terribly heavy food at the latest reception of the Reiksbund.
Some German busybody thought it a good idea to make the buffet "Bavarian" and that meant "Weisswurst", Meat Loaf and Pork Knuckle. If Aurelius was really honest with himself he would agree that he liked some of that but in the end it had been too much of a good thing. So now he sat in front of his Siemens Laptop, nursed an herbal tea that supposedly would aide digestion and surfed the net again.
One of the many sites he had found in his quest for knowledge had intrigued him despite the fact that it was only about fiction. It was called "Die andere Geschichte" (Alternate History) and while there was nothing factual to learn it told him a lot on how the Germans perceived the history of their old world and this one, including the forces that moved them. Sometimes he was amused at the naiveté displayed, often impressed by the depth of research that obviously had gone in some of the timelines. As several parts of the forum would have been unavailable without an account he had gotten himself one, but normally spend his time lurking.
Today was different, what he had read had enraged him so much that he found it necessary to make a post by his own. One Mathias Muendel had written a timeline on how the Warhammer world would have developed if the German would not have shown up.
"I have to applaud the amount of detail that went into your timeline, but there are so many things which are so unrealistic that they would need Old One involvement to work.
For starters, I admire Emperor Karl-Franz immensely, he is a great human ruler and destined to even greater things. But to think that upon his heroic death he would ascend to a higher plane of being and scour Altdorf of all unclean things is a bit much. I have told him about this in tonight's reception and he had a good laugh.
I have met Balthasar Gelt on several occasions. While he is a powerful mage in his own right he would never get the idea he erect a wall around whole realms of the Empire. He seems rather level-headed to me and this stinks of megalomania. If it would be that easy the Old Ones would have erected a wall around the Chaos Gates and be done with it.
My connections to the Asrai is not the best, but that Ariele would not realize that the Oak of Ages is filled with maggots and if she does not realize this then Orion should as he regenerates in there. This is hard to swallow.
All Ulthuan nobles are strong and independent personalities and the rulers of the Elven Kingdoms enjoy considerable independence in the ruling of their realms. Yet to think that Imrik, Price of Caledor would rebel against the Phoenix King is ridiculous. If our Civil War has done any good , then that we Asur are united in the face of the world. The idea that Teclis himself would undo the void and let Ulthuan sink beneath the waves is-well words fail me to describe how unlikely that is.
But the really unbelievable part is that proud Asur would accept Malekith as their Everking. This, really, is too much. Malekith may have been great once, but now he is a murderer and torturer driven by hate, a slaver by choice and taste and a traitor to boot. No Asur would follow him, let alone all of us.
I do like your ideas about Nagash though; here you seem to have gotten it right…
Peenemünde Nord, Bezahltag 27. Brauzeit
The rocket that was on the pad consisted of 2 liquid stages, two solid-fuelled boosters and a payload shroud that was slightly bigger than the stages below it. Its kind had been launched several times during the last year, but this one was watched with suspicion by a lot of the DLR`s "old guard". First off because it had been built around a Rune of Flying which was still regarded as heresy against the rules of physics by many, but also for its payload. The engineers who had worked for ESA longer regarded the development time for it as ridiculously short and the result therefore prone to failure. DASA had taken the old ATV and converted it into a man-rated spaceship. This was only possible for three new factors. One was that they no longer had to divide the workload by political and financial lines that made no technical sense and asked for a shitload of additional work. Then there was the fact that such projects had been discussed for quite some time before the Weltensprung, allowing the engineers to use prior work. Last but certainly not least was the increased mass budget they had gotten from the Rune, this allowed them to cut some corners where material was concerned. Germany would get around to building satellites from space-rated carbon-fiber, but presently aluminum, ceramics and titanium had to do.
Nathan Alpers watched the take-off from a console in the control room with great interest. He would monitor the life-support systems in the unmanned capsule. This was the test flight of his future ride and it would really suck if that thing did not work as advertised. The launch was enough to shake even the bunker that housed the control room, but nothing out of the ordinary. The launch went right until about 110 seconds in it when telemetry indicated that engine no. 3 overheated severely. Command shut it down together with no. 1 and sent the command to the rocket that engaged a different profile, making the remaining engines burn longer with the fuel that would otherwise have fed their shut-down companions.
Luckily the second stage worked as it should and its trajectory was modified so that it matched the original flight path. There was no third stage on this mission, the spaceship that emerged when the payload shroud used maneuvering jets to separate itself from the rocket. The control room crew waited with baited breath until the handshake between the spaceships computers, the communication satellites and the ground were established. The DLR did not have the money to establish a system of stations around the world, and so used the satellites that had been deployed to establish worldwide digital communications.
When the connections were established the spaceship ignited its maneuvering engine to establish an orbit around the Warhammer World. Once properly settled there it deployed two solar panels that unfolded from their containers and oriented them so they would catch as much sunlight as possible.
The next days saw a series of tests that would establish whether the spaceship was indeed ready to use for real. Based on the unmanned ATV transport that had been used by ESA to resupply the International Space Station it was about the same size and weight than an Apollo capsule of old. It could carry a crew of three into orbit and allow them to stay there for about 14 days. There were plans for a larger version, but these would have to wait for an established need and the validation of their smaller brother.
Nathan was busy with monitoring the life support. As the capsule received sunshine on one side and nothing on the other there was a temperature gradient of several hundred degree between the sides of the small spaceship. The insulation and temperature management were therefore crucial but worked to everybody`s satisfaction. The three dummies placed in the acceleration couches monitored the forces exerted on them and gave off an appropriate amount of methane and Carbon Dioxide which was promptly scrubbed from the air inside.
During the next day the spaceship changed orientation and orbit several times, establishing that these systems worked reasonably well. The star tracker checked out, allowing the spacecraft independent navigation up to a point as did the computer systems and other sensors.
After three days in orbit the spacecraft pivoted and pointed its engine into the orbit, engaging in a final burn that dropped the spacecraft`s speed below what was needed to keep it in orbit. When the new flightpath was verified the section containing the engine, the solar cells and most of the consumables were jettisoned. The remaining capsule looked like a cone with a rounded bottom that was oriented forwards as it contained the heat shield. Soon the underside started to glow cherry red as friction with the upper fringed of the atmosphere produced immense heat. Before long the DLR control center lost communication with the capsule as the heat converted the air around the spaceship into a plasma impenetrable for radio. Only after terse minutes did communication resume to the relief of all who were watching.
When the capsule had reached a height that was attainable by air-breathing planes it first deployed a stabilizing parachute that was followed by a brace of much larger ones minutes later. The craft managed to come down within a kilometer of its intended landing point, a lot of north German fields as nobody wanted to pay for the costs of a water recovery. When a hundred meters above ground a small radar altimeter told a computer to fire retro rockets. A couple of garbled lines of code swallowed the command and the capsule crashed into the ground at more than 50 kilometers per hour. Afterwards Nathan had to assure Ermine several times that he would have survived a similar mishap with few injuries if any. It was just that the capsule was damaged to the point where the planned reuse was economically senseless. The museum in Sinsheim was very happy to gain the exhibit.
California, Old Earth, 23.12.2015
The old man switched off the light and hoped that sleep would come easily. With every passing year the little pains and strains accumulated into a background choir that got ever harder to ignore. On top of that he had ripped apart the expose of his latest project, the more he thought about it the less sense it made. Now he could wrack his mind for more inspiration, just wonderful. And yet sleep did come unexpectedly and fast, faster and deeper than he had hoped for.
The dream started like so many-he found himself in the middle of a place and a crowd he had never seen before. Well, that was not totally true-he had seen such a place before. All around him were small stalls made from wood lit by old-fashioned lightbulbs. Snow covered the roofs of the stalls and the gaps between them, it had been cleared of the alley or trampled into light-colored mud. The flakes in the air would normally lent everything a moist smell but today it no chance. The smell of small cakes, cookies, candied fruits and spiced wine covered it totally. All around him a crowd in old fashioned clothes tried their best to keep control of their children who tried to take in every stall there was at the same time. He went by a nicely appointed nativity scene. Carved from wood it was obviously old and very very well made.
It took him a while to realize that the language spoken by all around him was German, if heavily accented one. He also felt the jostling whenever the crowd pushed somebody against him. Together with the bright colors, the cold that seeped through his clothes and the smells it made for the most realistic dream he could remember. The movements of the many visitors pushed him in front of another stall. His rusted in-German needed a minute to translate the words "Spende für das Winterhilfswerk 1935" (Donate towards the Winter Charity) but the picture of the eagle clutching the swastika below it needed no translation whatsoever.
He froze in the place he stood in mute horror and was still there when two men in police uniforms and swastika armbands approached him. When they laid their hands on his arm he was gone without a trace.
He emerged in darkness. Not total darkness, but after the bright lights of the Christmas Market his eyes needed time to adjust and when they did he found himself in an open space in the middle if a city without many lights. There were lights, but only in the many smaller and bigger houses that bordered the plaza he was on, no light was directed at the streets. The small of manure and night soil, the flickering light of oil lamps and candles, the absence of any cars or other machinery made it quite clear that he was in a medieval city, even if he could not place it. It was equally clear that this was the same time than the Christmas Market that he had just been to, but how he got that tidbit of information he could not say.
The moonlight seemed off somehow and when he had walked a few meters he found out why. Moving into the middle of the plaza made a second moon emerge behind some roofs, giving off a sickly green light.
Now he knew where he was, at least in very general terms. Anybody who had been in front of a TV in the last two years had known the Warhammer World and its two moons as this was the place Germany had been displaced to. But if his feeling about the time was correct then the Germans were not yet here. A beam of light briefly shone on him and drew his attention to the huge building that occupied one side of the plaza all by its impressive lonesome. By now his night sight had improved to the point where he could see its outline against the starry night. It reminded him a bit of the Hagia Sophia but some elements were different. Deciding that a peek inside would not hurt he walked up to the entrance to find it guarded by armored men presenting halberds. He doubted that they would let him pass and restricted himself to listening to the sounds emerging from inside and the glimpses that his position allowed.
Endless rows of pews were occupied by richly-clad people, broken up by blocks of armored soldiers. The music that accompanied whatever ceremony was held inside reminded him of nothing but of a march and no religion he knew would use such. Feeling cold and at unease he resumed his aimless wandering through the cold and dark alleys that made up this town. Looking inside windows might not be overly polite but this was a dream after all, wasn`t it.
Not that there was much to see-the rooms were as dark as the way he was on and interior lighting was ever more sparse. What was obvious even so was that the rooms were as cold as they were dark and the old man shivered at the thought to spend any time in such a humid cold environment. He was still lost in that thought when he stumbled about something unseen.
"What is that? Finally it gets a bit warm in this bloody place and I can sleep a bit-and now somebody kicks me?"
The mumbling voice and the rise and fall in volume did not bode well for the health of the voice`s owner. Bending down the old man found the man he had stumbled about lying half inside a houses entrance with what remained of his legs sticking out into the alley.
"I am sorry man, I did not see you in the dark. I hope I have not hurt you?"
"Don`t fash yourself, I had no feeling in my legs since that Chariots rode over them in..oh Sigmar so long ago."
"Are you well?"
"Not-not too bad. Shallya`s sisters gave us some soup just yesterday. But I did not get a place in their home today, Ulf never showed up to carry me there."
"Can I help you?"
"Have an alm for an old soldier?"
There was some loose change in the old man`s trousers and he placed them in the ice-cold hand of the man before him.
"You are freezing man, we have to get you somewhere warm."
"Thank you kindly. Why do..do you say so? It is finally a bit warm in..in this place. I just want to sleep a bit…"
The old man stayed for a few more minutes and listened to the ever quieting breathing of the veteran in front of him. The man was in the last stages of hypothermia that was for sure and needed help right now. But where to get it? Placing his coat on top of the invalid he made his way to somewhere else, anywhere else.
That was when he woke up shivering.
Labyrintis Noctis, Mars, another universe
They had not seen the sun for a day now, not that it would have warmed them much as it was far away. Not that the beings that trekked through the valley needed much warmth or light, at least by human standards. That the beings were related humans were obvious to any observer, they had the figure, the faces and the hate of humans. And yet they had strayed from that fold, quite a lot actually. Neither the armor and furs they wore would not conceal their powerful build, far exceeding the human norm. Nor would the wild beards that could be seen in those faces that were not hidden by helmets hide the long fangs that protruded from mouths or the eyes that were so much closer to a wolf`s than a human`s.
And while the humans marched to whatever goal they had they did not do so alone. Rumbling transports clanked among them, emitted black soot from their exhausts. Bipedal walkers, double the height of the towering near-humans formed a vanguard, backed up by multibarreled tanks. Wolves the size of ponies ran between the warriors lines, sometimes big enough to carry them.
Behind the Vanguard a tarpaulin-covered payload rested on a hovering sled that was incongruously pulled along by a brace of wolves. In front of the sled a huge figure took in his surroundings, trying to spot any danger to his warriors before it was too late. A long mane of white disappeared under a wolf pelt cloak, a white beard hung over the chest armor, divided by a smile. The space Wolves were going to battle again and Leman Russ would never feel more alive than in the onset of combat.
The canyon terminated in a cliff face that was nearly featureless except for a silver-lined hole that led into a dark interior. Steam emitted from the cave`s entrance in regular intervals, like the breath of an immense dragon.
