Galleon Erasmus, same time
Pieter van Ries watched his escorts being boarded with horror. Until this very day he had thought himself so lucky as his wife and two daughters had accompanied him on the trip that took him from Marienburg at the worst time possible. They had been an important support for him when times were bleak and were a joy to share the happy moments with.
Now he wished with his heart of hearts that they would have remained at Marienburg when it departed to an uncertain fate and if he could not have that they might be better off dead.
In his horror he never saw the small speck circling the battle high above in the air.
Escort Altdorf, 50 kilometers from the battle, same time
Henrik Gerber watched the merchantmen that kept a line on Altdorf`s starboard side through his binoculars. Their station keeping was still questionable after what had to be years of experience of traveling as part of convoys. He had to admit that it did not matter so much, they kept enough distance that collisions were unlikely and it was not that he would have the convoy zig-zagging to make a submarines life difficult any time soon. Still, it irked him and he was more irritable than usual as he had to wait for a situation report.
He still did only turn when the midshipman stomped on the steel deck as Imperial naval traditions demanded and addressed him.
"Compliments of Lieutenant Herz Captain. Freiherr von Herbst has reached the search area and reports that Araby pirates are capturing a group of becalmed merchantmen. He says they will most likely be overwhelmed."
"Thank you Friedrich. Give Lieutenant Herz my compliments and he should ask the Freiherr to keep station as long as possible before returning. I need acount of the enemy vessels and merchantmen before he returns. Ask the Lieutenant to mark his position via direction finding and send me the Lieutenants van Meert and Oels."
"Yes Sir."
The short break that ensued allowed "Altdorf`s" captain to make up his mind. Fortunately his personal desires and his standing orders converged as far as this situation was concerned. When the heavyset navigator and the lanky First Officer approached he took them to the bridge`s wing.
"Gentlemen, our aviation element has reported from the area indicated by the "Magic Detector." Looks like one of the local pirate fleets is boarding a couple of merchantmen. As per our orders we will stop them from doing so and try to save as many ships as possible.
Pier, I need a course for that battle immediately, we take in Altdorf at best speed. Hans, contact Captain Neuendorf, he and Schneider have to protect the convoy for the time being. Make sure to contact Saratosa station, they can keep something on the runway in case they run into any real problems.
Tell Dr. Koch he is going to have lots of customers later today."
"Aye Sir."
A bit later the escort turned from the convoy and accelerated to the 25 knots that she was capable of. Henrik Gerber stood behind the small bridge crew, watching seamen run a fairly modern ship who thought a galley a potent warship a few years back and did his best to hide his doubts when he thought about the upcoming action.
By his judgment this was the moment-too soon and the men would get exhausted, too late and they would not be ready.
Lifting the microphone from its cradle and pushing the button below the recording of a bosuns pipe was played throughout the ship.
"All hands, this is the captain. About 20 miles from here Araby pirates are trying to capture several merchantmen. In accordance with the orders given to us by the Emperor itself we will stop them. This will be our first action. Trust the training you have received, trust your officers, trust Altdorf and yourself. Do as well as you did the last months and we will do us proud.
All hands, action stations, repeat action stations."
Escort „Altdorf" , 300 Kilometers from Saratosa
The ship vibrated under Henrik Gerber`s feet as her diesel engines tried to gain the best possible speed from the small warship. By now he had donned flash gloves and mask, a steel helmet and a kapok vest that combined lifesaving with stopping splinters and miserable sweating. Everybody around him was clad the same and small talk was absent. He had stepped out from the confines of the bridge to have a personal look and match the radar plot with real life. As radar had shown he could see two groups of ships. One groups was made up from eight galleys, low to the water which made their way mostly towards his ship. The other group was composed of several galleons that made their way to the Araby shore, using a favorable wind that had appeared some 20 minutes ago. His binoculars were good enough to show the pirates in clear detail, their gaudy clothes, the varied assortment of arms and their victims.
Even without the more somber clothes the way they held their heads and looked at the pirates marked them as the crews of the captured ships.
"What do you make of it Hans?"
"Galleys are pirates, they left prize crews on the merchantmen."
"Jup, that`s how I see this as well. Let`s see if they stop and desist if we call them, otherwise this is going to be bloody."
"So do we sink the pirates and go for the merchantmen?"
"A bit difficult before they open…" Boom"-so much for that. Tell Lieutenant Schneider he may open fire on all galleys, closest ones first."
"Aye Captain."
The forecastle of the closest galleys birthed red flames inside ugly black-brown clouds. Most of the shots dropped harmlessly into the water a hundred meters or more from "Altdorf", a few managed to skip over the waves to gain extra range and one even reached the Imperial warship. Having lost most of its energy it simply bounced off a bow that was reinforced for a bit of icebreaking. By that time Gerber had stepped inside the bridge and addressed the Navigator.
"Pier, new course 090, I want some distance from these assholes."
"Yes Sir, new course 090. Helmsman, steer for new course."
The twin 105`s mounted forward hammered the bridge with their muzzle blasts before course could be changed and their projectiles sped for their targets. They needed less than a second and hit the foremost galley squarely in the bow. One shell converted the forecastle into an ugly mass of splinters, blood and gore while the second tore into the bow, ripping a hole through which a man might have stepped. The galleys hard-working rowers forced the ship forward and the sea entered that hole as quickly as it would go. When "Altdorf" maneuvered hard to starboard the next salvo went wide, one shot ditching into the sea while the other grazed the deck until it exploded at the collapsed main mast, clearing the deck of human life. It did not make any difference to the few survivors who were dragged into their watery grave by the ship.
Adalbert von Schneider waited until Altdorf had settled on her new course before reopening fire. This time the aft turret could bear on the targets as well and all four guns went to work. The galleys were lightly built from birch and fir as every kilogram of more sturdy woods would have prevented them from being efficiently rowed. The ships flexed considerably when they encountered anything but a millpond sea and lasted only a few years. The weapons that assailed them now had been scavenged from Leopard 1 tanks and had been built to kill the toughest vehicles humanity had devised for surface travel. The High Explosive rounds detonated whenever they found something substantial, be it mast, spar, cannon or equipment. When they did they threw out a shockwave that assaulted everybody in its vicinity like baseball bats that hit every square centimeter of their bodies at once and by razor sharp fragments that flew faster than the speed of sound.
They were not incendiary by design but the sheer violence the spawned nearly always caused something to burn sooner or later and the crew that could have extinguished the nascent inferno was either dead, wounded or shocked insensible. Both turrets shifted their aim after firing a dozen rounds into each ship and this part of the battle ended.
Altdorf`s "Kriegstagebuch", the log, would note that the action lasted for less than four minutes and that it left all eight galleys burning or sinking.
There was few to no cheering in the Imperial warship, the sailors who could see the pirate ships were stunned themselves by the carnage they had wrought. The ships they saw were not so different from the ones they had crewed so few years before and they were gone like nothing. This did not feel like a grand victory, this left a taste like ashes in their mouths. It would not last.
"Hans, mark the Galleons as "Target 1 through 9" according to distance. We will have to recapture them before they can haul the crews to god know there. Set course to Target 1 and assemble the boarding crew. Let`s hope these assholes strike their colors and not put up a fight."
"Aye Sir. Sir-we might have a small problem with these Marienburgers."
"What problem 1O?"
"I have been in one a couple of times Sir and they have no solid subdivisions below deck sir, just a lot of canvass walls. If we have to go down there and hunt thepirates between the crew this will be a big problem. We never received frangible ammo and we have nearly no tear gas grenades."
"I see-how very wonderful. Any suggestions?"
"Yes Sir, the old way, we give them the cold steel."
"Gets better by the minute."
"Not so bad Sir, we are used to it and the prize crews will be small. I think we can keep losses to a minimum. Anything else and we will be worse on the poor fraggers in there than the bloody pirates."
Silence
Henrik Gerbers shoulders sagged and he exhaled audibly. He had to decide between unpalatable choices. That was his job and nobody would take it from him. In the end there was only one course of action that was possible and honorable.
"Make it so 1O and Sigmar protect you."
"Bring us close Captain, we will do the rest."
"Pier, bring us a hundred meters starboard of Target 1."
"Yes Sir."
Altdorf changed course again while Hans Oels assembled his assault party on the deck behind the Bridge. Henrik could hear him while he tried to keep an eye on everything.
"I know you all go Mannan`s temple whenever you are in harbor, and all of you give a small donation to the fund that buys back the sailors that these Araby pirates take as slaves. Good thing I say. Now I suggest that we all make a very big donation to that cause and we will pay with this."
Gerber saw the sword that Oels had received upon graduation rise and he heard the men cheer. Oh god, these fools were looking forward to this.
He used the ship`s loudspeakers to get the pirates to give up, he had one of the Araby speakers of the crew to attempt the same and while he did not understand the language too well the gestures that accompanied the replies were universal enough.
Khemri
James Corradi awoke in a room that was as dark and quiet as a grave. That did not mean that there were no sensations to be had yet none gave him much to work with. The air around him was bone-dry, had a musky smell and did not have a hint of draft. The bier on which he rested was of well-polished stone and amplified the shivers that ran through his nearly naked body. The leather belts that held him fast to the stone were cracked with age and chafed against his skin when he tested them but withstood whatever force he applied. His throat was parched from first and the grumblings of an empty stomach told the story of many hours that had passed while he was unconscious.
The legionary debated with himself whether he should shout for help when the light took his mind to a different place.
It started small, like the flame at the tip of a match, was of a yellow warmth yet did not waver. The ember grew into the size of a pumpkin and rose to the ceiling where it lit of the room in a warm light. It revealed a room that was empty save for a few vases, several empty biers like the one that held him and impressive hieroglyphs on the walls. Some of them seemed to move, others managed to give the impression to be more than just two-dimensional or to be painted behind the masonry somehow.
James had eyes for none of that as his mind was riveted to the two figures that sat silently on slender wooden chairs. Both were slender and probably female, yet that was the point where the similarities ended. One was raven-haired and a great beauty in a slightly oriental, slender was clad in a seemingly simple white robe that still managed to revel her in enticing ways. The other was clad in the traditional garb of a Khemri king. Her skin was hidden by bandages while her face was behind a mask depicting the face of a maiden. Only when the head turned slightly it revealed a cutout that provided a view of death. Whatever remained of the flesh had shriveled to a brown sinewy mass, revealing bones and teeth. That they eye within the socket was perfectly beautiful made it even more horrible.
James` breath stopped even before the voices entered his mind. However they did it, the voices were perfectly audible once they arrived there. How they bypassed language barriers and got heard without making sound waves was a riddle that passed unnoticed by the legionary. Neither figure moved their lips in tune with the voices yet there wasn`t the slightest doubt which voice belonged to whom.
Both were very human and the timbre and tilt unmistakably female. One was full of age, of pain and wisdom gathered at a terrible price, of death dealt, experienced and overcome. The other kindled a desire that the legionary knew was not requited, could only lead to disastrous results and full of deathly promise. She incited the greater horror as he found that he would follow her if she so much asked while knowing all the while that it was wrong.
"It is a long time that the living graced us with their presence."
"Speak for yourself; I have no lack of them. And yet this is such a virile visitor, I like that."
"Reign yourself in, he is not for your tastes."
"I do know, he is just such an enticing morsel. Too bad we need a messenger."
"Yes we need one, we can hardly go ourselves."
"Speak for yourself, but the consequences would be too interesting, even for me."
"Indeed. Now young James Andrea Corradi, do you want to live, grow old feeble and die or do you want to be forever?"
It took him three times to clear his throat sufficiently and at least as long to get his mind to work in the face of such forces.
"I want to live."
It would have sounded more convincing if his dry throat would not have produced sounds that would not have been out of place with the undead.
"And so you will. I would gladly add you into my ranks and you would suit her tastes well. But there are forces at work that are greater than our wishes. Forces that exceed even my hate and her desires, forces that threaten us all."
"Threaten even you and your countrymen who feel so arrogantly invulnerable."
"And still they are the only ones who could keep this future from happening."
"So you hope."
"So I know. And so that they know we must send a messenger, one whose words they trust. So neither you or me can claim him, we need to send him as he is."
"A terrible waste."
"Compared to what approaches it is nothing."
"Less than that. So young James, are you willing to hear the message?"
"Yes."
"Well then. So know then and bring the news to those that need to hear them. He is back and he wants to grow in power. This must not be or all, living and undead, will pay the price. Even the gods themselves might not escape his wrath."
"Who…"
"The murderer."
"The traitor."
"The defiler of our beloved country."
"The Heretic."
"The one who died so many times, but never rests for long."
"The one who thinks he will be the end of all things."
"He who broke the compact with our ancient Gods and condemned us all."
"Nagash"
The room around the three was not that cold, but James Corradi shivered. There had been rumors and legends, Games Workshop lore and even more base lies, but at their core there was an ancient evil that frightened anybody with a reasonable mind.
"We know not where he is and if you can kill him at all."
"But we know where he has sent his forces and we know what he wants."
"And what he must never achieve lest he remakes us all in his image."
"His troops make for Valaya`s gate and of they reach it he will come himself."
"Come and consume her so he gains her power."
"That must be avoided."
"At all costs."
"Err, Ladies-consume who?"
"Valaya, the goddess of the dwarfs."
"She is alive, yet sleeping."
"Her power is still there."
"And he wants it."
"Nagash."
"The Germans must stop him, we cannot."
"Even if we dared we could not, but we would finally be destroyed."
"So you must. Carry the news to your superiors, your General Nanson. You must contact Karak Azul."
"The Dawi must protect the Gate and you must help them."
"Or we all become as he wills it."
Fort Zinderneuf, close to Zuwarrah, Araby
James Corradi`s skin was still covered by bandages here and there, he had been sunburned to a great extent on his trip back to the Legions compound. He could never have walked so far, even the Legion`s famous penchant for marching would not have carried that far. The scorpion that had carried him on his back had disintegrated into the bones it was made off when it got into visual distance of a Legion checkpoint.
He had reported his experience no less than six times by now and was sick and tired of it. Still he hardly dared to voice that as he doubted that Brigadier Nanson would take kindly to that.
"Fascinating report Sergeant, it really is. You do not happen any proof of that?"
"I was told to present this to you Sir."
He placed the ring on the table between him and the General. It bore a Scarab beautifully carved from lapis lazuli and was intensely detailed. It lay motionless for a second on the table before the insects likeness started to move. Legs unfolded, gained traction and separated it from the ring. It made a few centimeters from the jewelry before rising on its hind legs and looking at the humans towering above it.
The voice was the same James had heard before, this time perceived by all.
"I speak Queen Khalida`s words, hear and obey…."
Space
While the movers and shakers on the Warhammer World deemed themselves important and mighty forces so titanic they defied human understanding beyond mathematics tore at each other inside the system`s sun. Vast magnetic fields many time the size of Earth and of a power that would power worlds realgned themselves forcefully, releasing energies that mocked human achievements.
This energy needed an outlet and found it in a group of sun spots which released a stream of high-energy ions, protons and electrons which had inherited the energy released. They moved into space at a speed which would allw them to reach the Warhammer World in mere hours.
When they arrived they would compress the world`s magnetosphere and interact with the higher levels of the athmosphere, generating beautiful polar lights even in latitudes which normally never experienced them.
They would reach "Nordstern" only 15 minutes later and would be utterly lethal to anybody inside a craft made from thin titanium and flexible plastics.
DLR spotted the outbreak soon after it happened, realized what it was within the hour and sent a warning to the speeding spacecraft.
That was all they could do for the crew.
Nordstern, about a million kilometers from the Warhammer World
Once Nathan Alpers` crew had received the news about the approaching solar storm they had done what every astronaut and every good airline pilot in history did when faces with disaster: Read a book. Well, actually not any book, but the one that detailed the procedures developed for any likely (and some very unlikely) emergencies. This one had been anticipated and analyzed but never experienced before, so there were procedures, yet they were untested. Whether they were worth the work put into them would be quite clear in a few hours.
By now the centrifuge containing the living quarters had been stopped, many sensors shut down, reserve computers were cut from their power supply and suits were donned. While most of the crew had been busy doing all that and securing anything not tied down before slowing the centrifuge Bashurr had brought his beloved tungsten cores from standby to a low percentage of their power. Even so the radiators around "Nordstern" glowed in a cherry-red color radiating away the heat so that the onboard generators could deliver several megawatts of power.
"Reactor is at 80 percent, shield is at standby Nathan."
"Raise shields Bashurr"
Most of the power provided by the generators was shunted into a series of superconducting coils. All around the German spacecraft a rather strong magnetic field was projected.
"Field is stable Nathan."
"Begin plasma injection"
"Plasma injection initiated."
There was no visible clue that anything had happened, even when their instruments told them it was so. They simply had to trust the DASA engineers who had come up with another miracle. The set the systems in the command capsule to "remote" before retreating towards their shelter. It was at the point where the pressured lab met the unpressurised payload section. Nathan had maneuvered Nordstern so that the tungsten cores and the well-filled central propellant tank was between them and direct radiation. More equipment around them doubled as shielding and a final layer of old-fashioned lead tried to best to shield the four astronauts from the approaching doom.
The space in the shelter was very limited and wearing the suits for long periods uncomfortable under any circumstances, yet this was where their best hope for survival was. The four waited, waited some more and were actually a bit relieved when their Geiger counter started to chatter. And that was it-it chattered as it would do during a high-attitude flight, never got to the point where it sounded like a sewing machine making corpse bags or the wail that would announce that 20 years had been deducted of their lifespans.
The astronauts paid few notice to it after a few moments, the pads they held before them displayed picture too impressive otherwise. The plasma held by the magnetic field around "Nordstern" was excited to the point where it gave of intense light in several colors and the spaceship was surrounded by a halo of light, especially sunwards.
"Shield status Bashurr?"
"Shield is stable, aft sector is deformed inwards by particles but still three meters away from the hull at average."
"Very good, inform me of any changes immediately."
In the end they waited for several hours before DLR and the astronauts decided it was safe to leave the shelter, the storm abated a day later.
Yangukian War Junk "Wondeo", The Far Sea
Phan tamruat (Captain) Bak was proud of his ship. The Wondeo and her five sister ships were the mightiest ships sailing the Far Ocean. Not only were they sturdy vessels, the two rocket launchers each ship had in addition to 6 cannons made them rather formidable. While they were most dangerous on short range, the Yangukian rockets had the longest range of all weapons used in their corner of the world. Few had the guts to tangle with the Yangukian Navy. Well, the new bleachy long-noses who were called Jöögirin (Germans) would be an exception, but they came to Khoresh rarely and then only for trading. In theory, the Empires of Cathay and Nippon could be dangerous too, but it would be costly in ships for them to bring down the Yangukian fleet. So both nations teeth-grindingly accepted the "sea lane toll" Yanguk enforced before their shores, because it was cheaper than to replace the lost ships.
The Kingdom of Yanguk was an exception itself. Their ancestors came from the Jegukian Empire many days of sea travel to the North. During the heights of Jeguk, the Empire created Yanguk as a colony and outpost in the "Deep South". Sitting at a crossroad of regional and even international trade, Yanguk flowered and grew. It was the jewel of all colonies Tikseong, the capital of Jeguk, governed over. For many generations Yanguk was the visible sign of Jegukian power in the southern part of the Far Sea.
Then suddenly, in what the Imperial Bleachskins counted as the year 2204, contact with Tikseong ceased. According to what Captain Bak had learned, a Civil War broke out after the largest Hung Nomads invasion in centuries. Jeguk survived this dark time, but came under the suzerainty of Kathay. While growing back to a strong nation, there would be no more expansion of the Empire of Jeguk any longer.
More than a century passed by until contact was reinstated. But by that time, Yanguk had come into it´s own. Yanguk was now a people of their own, a mixture of Jegukian and Khoreshian culture. For the following centuries to this day, the Kingdom of Yanguk became one of the major powers in all of the Khoreshian Peninsular. And the strong, innovative Navy was a cornerstone of that power.
It still galled Captain Bak that the Germans, these newly arrived strangers, could oppose the Jagukian Navy. He had not been the one who made first contact, but the retelling of it knew every Fleet Captain by heart, if not because it went "so well".
One day several years ago, Phan Tamruat Nguyen and his escorts encountered a German trade convoy. While impressed by the sheer size of the German ships, like a real Yangukian officer should do, Nguyen did his duty. It was a most memorable parley between the Phan Tamruat and the German Kapitän. The talks had been amiable until at the end the Sea Lanes toll was mentioned.
Nguyen later retold the German´s answer verbatim: "My dear Captain, we Germans want to trade and your Yangukian Kingdom has some interesting good to sell. But your main harbor, by extrapolating what you told us about it, is not really suited for our ships. So let´s say Germany will invest into an upgrade of a part of your main harbor. A storage area for containers, a better mole so MoKo-ships or other bigger vessels can safely anchor there. Some basic upgrades to your light house and several buoys for treacherous sandbanks. The particulars ofsuch a treaty treaty will be the task of the diplomats.
But never mention or try to collect this naughty 'Sea Lanes toll' ever again when your fleet meet ships flying Black-Red-Gold, the Imperial Cross or the Rising Sun. Such piracy in international waters would give you more trouble than being bound before a ships cannon."
Nguyen was very impressed by the huge steel ships the Germans possessed and did never attack them. After his return the captain had an unpleasant time. While the government´s initial hostility turned into admiration for opening negotiations with the powerful strangers, a headstrong minority of the high naval officers scorned Nguyen for his "cowardice". How could he neglect to uphold the supremacy of the Jangukian Navy?
Half a year later, Captain Kim, one of the most vocal hawks among the officers met a returning convoy of the Germans. He had three ships-of-the-line and several escorts with him. When the parley went south due to the try to collect the Sea Lanes toll, Kim attacked the Germans. It was an unmitigated disaster. The Germans wiped the bilge with Kim and his ships. Not a single one returned to port, only two lifeboats.
After this incident any doubt about the capabilities of the Germans was history. The only silver lining at the maritime horizon was that the Jöögirin and now to a certain extend the Imperials as well, were such a powerful outside context. Other Navies in the Far Ocean could never hope to copy that feat and neither the Germans nor the Imperials had much presence there outside their trade convoys. So the balance of power near the Khoresh region was kept safe.
The only problematic development concerned the Nipponese. While the Germans counted them obviously among their friends, Jöögirin naval presence was rare in the Far Ocean beside their convoys. So the capital had ordered its fleet commanders to keep collecting the Sea Lanes toll from civilian Nipponese vessels, counting on the great pride of the Nipponese to not run to the Germans for help.
It worked, but Bak considered it a dangerous mistake of the government around the King. The Nipponese might be too proud to ask the Germans for help directly, but the Jangukian captain saw the changes in their shipbuilding. A development becoming more pronounced each year. The Nipponese clearly had help from the Germans and for Bak it was a foregone conclusion that it would not be long until the Nipponese would be a too hard piece of work as well.
And considering how Janguk had treated the Nipponese, he doubted that Sumeto would let that slide. Therefor he had sacrificed a lot of his quite massive prestige in a try to convince the top brass to stop and negotiate with the Nipponese. He hoped it was enough. Janguk was in a good position, but riling up a superior power like Germany or her friends was a recipe for trouble. Maybe not now, but soon. It still was time to solve the problem before becoming a danger. if decisive orders would be made.
Earth 24.12.2017
The hallway was narrow, lined with countless niches, lit only by the lamps brought and deep shadows that could hide any number of attackers to ambush the two soldiers walking point at any time from short range. There could hardly be any worse circumstances for those soldiers and hardly any better choice than Gotrek in Power Armor to assume that position. The displays on the inside of his helmet gave him a picture of his surroundings that was far superior to what his comrades had, the armor he wore proof against nearly everything that the enemy could bring up and his axe capable to end anything thrown his way. These were important factors but more importantly he was willing to do this, this was his natural habitat, the place and time where he belonged and the thing he wanted to do.
The instincts honed on countless battlefields had turned him a bit already when the nuances in the shadows began to move, when the dark blue in his helmet visor replaced by oranges and yellows, when teeth, claws and rusty arms reached out to maim him. The utter lack of space around him negated any possible finesse, not that he would have need of it. Punching his axe forward with all the force hate-driven muscles and electrically powered actuators provided the axe head crushed teeth, bones and brains with equal ease. His left vambrace deflected the serrated blade of a spear, guiding it between elbow and flank. His amplified strength was sufficient to break the rotten shaft cleanly and another thrust ended that attempt. On his other side a stream of fire walked the length of the hallway and punched through rusty armor, fur and organs before desecrated millennia-old graves.
The attack stopped as soon as it had begun and the squad made its way forward through the darkness. There was no enemy to be seen, neither with their lamps nor the infrared vision that two of the squad members had, but the slithering and the clicking of claws could be heard from many a nook and cranny, from the area before them and from behind. Still there was no question whether to push or not in anybody`s mind. They had come with a mission and that definitively preceded anybody`s wishes.
Gotrek was a bit disappointed at the attackers, he had faced far worse than these in Skavenblight and while it would have been nice to have the Armored Infantry covering his back the French soldiers were very good indeed. The slithering and clicking rose to a crescendo when the squad moved into a larger room that reminded the former Slayer of a human church. The high-vaulted room seemed empty of the enemy for the moment and Gotrek tried to keep every nook and cranny in his view while he led his squad deeper into it. He knew he should not do that, knew that he could trust his teammates to watch their sectors and still could not shake the habits of a long lifetime spent fighting with few comrades.
The soldiers had gained the middle of the room when the creaking and groaning around them reached a crescendo, followed by several crashes. In at least three points parts of the walls collapsed, revealing only blackness while stones and bricks dropped on the floor. The darkness birthed several kinds of horrors: There were things that looked like rats that grew to near-human size clutching rusting spears, swords and cudgels. They were sickly-looking even for their kind with pus-filled lesions revealed by mangy fur, with eyes the color of cooked eggs and boils the size of oranges. Others were bigger and more healthy-looking, wielding bits and pieces of armor and a feverish hate that would have been lethal if the soldiers would have allowed. The last and most insidious threat was much more mundane, an unending flood of great rats that emerged from a hole in the ground where the basilica`s altar used to be. They had no weapons, weighted less than a dachshund and were obviously not sentient. They also seems completely capable to drown the humans with their bodies alone.
The former Slayer had been there and had done that, had been in Skavenblight so much that even he had occasional nightmares about it and while he had earned some new scars there so he had new skills.
"CS, CS, CS" boomed from the speakers of his helmet and both him and two others dropped a brace of grenades in the direction of the enemy. All of them spewed a thick white smoke into the room that dispersed into a grey-white mist. It would have been more than a little painful on humans, causing an unending stream of tears, pain in the eyes and respiratory difficulties. For the Skaven it was hell as their sensitive eyes and noses amplified the effects many times to the point where even their berserk fury was reduced to wailing panic.
Especially the giant rats were in a frenzy of panic, of trying to flee blindly and of killing anything in its way. Most of them were killed by the swelling of their air ways, but not before they did not tear their teeth into something. The very tough armor on the humans did withstand the attacks pretty well, the same could not be said about the mangy Skaven that were counting on the rats support just seconds ago.
Gotrek had not waited to see the effects of the tear gas grenades, he charged into the fray as always. His axe was powered by his mighty arms, by his armor and the remains of the Dawi god residing in it. The figure-eights that the axe head described went through limbs and bodies with horrible ease and left only ruin in his way. Gotrek did not watch his back, he had not done so as a Slayer and he had not started yet. That had not killed him yet had the same reason for many years-Felix Jäger had his back. These days he was much more dangerous than ever before as his armor gave him the strength he had lacked before and the ancient, rune-enhanced G3 rifle gave him a reach he had lacked before.
The rounds from the rifle penetrated any piece of dirty fur that showed up in his visor and death followed the path of his ammo. Between the duo and the rest of the squad the Skaven were killed in numbers. When it was over the air was full of the last gasps of a few thousand rats and the swearing of two soldiers who had been bitten despite the best their armor could do. While the rest guarded the old Basilica the two applied liberal doses of disinfectant before swallowing broadband antibiotics.
The squad had prevailed but the net effect was had to see as the room seemed like a dead end but for the three holes left by the Skaven. While the first aid was still going on Gotrek opened his visor and walked the length of the room, punching at the walls, stomping on the ground and placing his gloved hand on the walls next to the access points left by the Skaven.
Before Gotrek became a power-armored unstoppable force on the battlefield, before he died and fulfilled his oath, before he became a Slayer he was and always remained Dawi. Tunnels were his specialty and the rock around him spoke to him.
"This way, this will lead us where we need to be."
The squad made their way down a tunnel that was obviously not part of the original human construction. No brickwork to shore it up, even walls, floor and ceiling and several places where water intruded bore testimony of shoddy construction even by Skaven standards. At one point a spear came from the walls and tried to pierce the former Slayer, at another a flagstone tilted to expose punji sticks that were defeated by the titan foil inside Gotrek`s boot. And then they went into a very different room. The center of the warren was a comparatively huge room filled by sickly green light, ill maintained furniture and equipment and more Skaven than you could shake a stick at. At its center a huge figure swayed on crooked legs and hooves while his horns threatened to brush the ceiling.
Even the former Slayer knew by now that the most clever thing was not to rush the enemy right now. Instead he ducked while behind him a couple of muted "bangs" announced the firing of grenade launchers. Sailing into the rats midst the fragments hurt most of the Skaven terribly and frightened the rest. More grenades mixed with the fire by Felix rifle to create a panic that was hard to stop by the few unharmed leaders. Gotrek was about to muse whether he would be needed at all when two huge beasts rounded one of the pillars that supported the roof. They seemed like a toy made by a willful child that sewed the remains of others together to create a mismatched new. Huge with claws that rivalled Felix`s sword and teeth that could pierce a man right through moved in a drunken fashion. They were still too fast and would probably fall on the shooters which were making themselves felt so much in the pandemonium below. Now these were opponents worthy of the former Slayer and Gotrek attacked them with all the abandon of his erstwhile status. He has to cleave apart a few rats o his way, a few rounds from an old German rifle whipped past him and caused a Ogre to scream and then he was between the two.
Claws tried to cleave him, feet to stomp him flat and hungry open mouths were trying to gain their next meal. His Axe went for the hamstrings of one, parting it and the attendant muscles easily just to get struck in the bone behind it. Gotrek had to move quickly as the Rat Ogre he had hit started to drop while the other wanted to claim him. An armored fist met an open mouth and teeth sailed clean through the warren. Shaking its small head to regain whatever went for clarity in it the enemy allowed Gotrek to remove his axe by stamping down with his leg, breaking the shin bone and loping the head of the first one off. He barely managed to make a header below the second Ogre, hearing the screech of claws on his back armor before he turned on his stomach and removed a brace of toes with two quick strikes. Punching up and a near horizontal strike above his head opened the belly of the second Ogre and drenched the dwarf in entails.
Felix pulled him out seconds later and both watched the shambling run of the horned Avatar of a God no longer there run through yet another tunnel. Humans and Dawi both ran in hot pursuit chopping or shooting at anything that stepped into their way. They ran through another Skaven-made tunnel, barely saw their prey go through an intersection and heard an almighty crash. They found another hole in a wall , yet the rooms beyond that hole were very different. They were human-made, that was for sure but they were modern, well-maintained an full of bookshelves, endless rows of them. Fearing another ambush the squad moved cautiously until a few of the shelves started to tumble. Thankfully they did not drop in their direction, they moved each other like oversized dominos and fel on something that screamed like a pierced steam vessel.
Gotrek stepped in front of the Avatar that was trapped under shelves and books and bought his axe down in a stroke that parted skull and brain both.
When he turned he faced another group of armed humans who aimed their rifles to a point only very few centimeters from him. One of them addressed him in French which he recognized but not understood and then in something close enough to Reispiel.
"I am Kommandant Graf of the Swiss Guard-drop your weapons."
