Valaya´s Gate

And then the last enemy dropped to the ground and started to smolder, the Paladins went past the next tunnel bend and were greeted by somebody who wanted to become death personified.

Arkhan the Black had served Nagash when he was still alive and he had not ceased doing so just as the two of them had died. He had grown from a shallow useless noble scion into one of the more powerful necromants to walk the face of the Warhammer World under Nagash`s often harsh tutelage and despite setbacks tried to continue the relationship.
Nagash had spent the last years growing in many ways by exploiting the many treasures still buried in Khemri, from the relics found in well-hidden graves to the powers once wielded by the cursed countries gods.
Arkhan could only gaze in awe at the tower of bones, willpower, ambition and might that rose before him, dwarfing him and the puny mortals that stepped before the Necromancer.

The huge head on top of the pillar of bones moved slowly like the turret on an immense battleship and Nagash`s gaze fell on the motely group of humans before him. Arkhan watched the his Master`s magics form up into an irresistible wave that would turn the offenders to corpses that would do Nagash`s bidding. Even he was nearly overwhelmed by the power behind the spells that shaped up around the Necromant and he nearly missed the light.

The tunnel that had before been lit by flickering pyres and the green warpfire that surrounded Nagash was lit by a deep orange glow as one might expect from molten steel. It emanated from the hammer wielded by the human that had stepped to the fore.
The wave of darkness that represented Nagash`s spells was threatened by the light, diffused and banished into the void.
Compared to the tower of death and magic that was Nagash the warrior seemed insignificant, a small toddler that stood before his elders. Yet that was just the view presented to the mundane world. When one looked at other planes of existence things were very different.
Nagash`s mortal eyes were long gone, replaced by flickering green fires inside the skull`s sockets. They saw far more than mere visible light and measured the puny human before him.

He had existed for a very long time now and some of the millennia he had spent on the wrong side of death, clouding his memory even more that the mere passage of years allowed for. Many details were lost, places unremembered and former allies forgotten.
Yet he would never forget the hammer that was before him, the hammer that had claimed him once already, neither would he forget his wielder.
What he saw before him was deeply disturbing, a sight occluded in some ways, crystal clear in others. Still, one thing was very sure, the man before him was dangerous, he would be hard to kill inside his strange armor and his weapon had the potential to end him even in his present state.

The power that he craved was so close, would be so easy to take but there was something between it and him that frightened even the great Nagash.
Man and monster regarded each other for seconds that both felt like ages before a decision was made.

Arkhan the Black watched incredulously the bones that made the physical form of his master drop to the ground while the words of his master reverberated through his skull.
"DIE WELL MY SERVANT"
He had not started to move when the hammer`s head connected with his head, ending a millennia-long existence with a crunch and burning bones.

Berlit was exhausted to a degree she could not remember having ever experienced. She had done great feats of healing during the last hour, having mended injuries that should have ended lives or left cripples behind in mere moments.
She knew very well that her own powers would never allow her to perform such feats, that she was used as a conduit for the powers and goals of another. Yet even that was utterly exhausting and she wondered for how long she might continue.

And then there was the sound, like an enormous pane of glass breaking in her mind and a landslide of bones rolled into one. She was still trying to come to terms with it when the undead started to crumble wherever they were, even those who had yet to come to the human`s attention.
It was a wondrous sight for all of the hard-pressed defenders and yet she saw none of it. Berlit was on her knees with eyes that were as white as bleached bone for the moment and all she saw was what her goddess wanted to show her.

Space Center Neupapenburg, Lustria

With the Warhammer world being as large as it was, launching space going vessels from as close to the equator as possible had many benefits, even more than on Earth. Due to these physical advantages, from the beginning of the German Space Program plans had been made to acquire an area close to the equator, but territories with the exact combination of needed specific attributes were rare. Most equatorial land on Warhammer was deep wilderness, that was a so-called no-brainer, anything would have to be erected on-site. While this was obvious from the start equally important were good sea lanes with acceptable weather and few "natural obstacles", said with similar requirements for dry land.

One of the best points the survey ships and explorers found over time and not too far away by Warhammer standards, was a stretch of rainforest and Savannah in north-eastern Lustria. Since most of Lustria was in the hands of the Slann at first it looked like a big problem in getting hold of that piece of land. But then Berlin and Itza came to an agreement and a part of the Lustrian coast was sold to Germany.

Now, two years later, a small town of 5000 souls resided at a natural harbour bay shaped by Lord Mazdamundi to German specifications. Neupapenburg was not beautiful, most buildings were pre-fabricated and government-ugly to boot. Several renown architects were busy planning a town with nicer houses for when Neupapenburg was better established.
At the moment, erecting and expanding the launch site and the workshops had priority over pleasant dwellings. There was another reason, the tight budget Germany operated under since arriving on Warhammer. Germany´s general situation got better year by year, but money did not grow on trees for now.
Neupapenburg was defended by 2 Army battalions and a squadron of FAS from the Navy. While not the strongest defence forces possible, for the typical threats it was more than enough and strong enough to hold out until reinforcements from Germany could arrive.

Chief coordinator of Neupapaenburg was Frank Welter. And it was hard work for him to get the hardy colonists, often quirky engineers from the Rocketry installations and the armed forces working smoothly, since their expectations and outlooks were quite different on many things.

But the thing that nagged Frank Welter most was something totally different. For the left-leaning among the German population, like the Greens or Left party, any kind of colony was not acceptable, no matter that the region had been unpopulated before and specifically bought for the Space Program. So officially Neupapenburg was not a colony, no matter that anybody with at least some brains knew that it was so. Fortunately, the vastly different general situation compared to Earth had shut up most of the left. How Cloudcuckoolanders could shelf their Sunday speeches when their lives were on the line, was something Frank Welter was glad about.

The right-leaning among the Germans, like parts of the Freisinnigen and the Kaiserlichen, disliked the name of Neupapenburg and pushed, unsuccessfully for now, for Neuschwabenland. Their arguments stated correctly that the old expedition from 1938/39 had just scientific goals until conspiracy theorists came up with fairy tales.

Due to the old stories, the officials in Neupapenburg took off signs made by jokers every week. The signs, looking like normal town ones, stated in black on yellow: Flugscheibenbasis Neuschwabenland. (Flying Saucer Base Neuschwabenland)
What baffled Frank Welter was how the pranksters got their raw signs. Blank Town signs were not something that came with the food and resources shipments. It stayed a mystery.

And that mystery had to wait, since today was the day another TV team arrived to follow the progress of the new Space center. Frank sometimes thought he mimicked Basil Fawlty in how he had to remind the people of Neupapenburg about what to say to the reporters.

"...OK, guys, that is it for now. And I know you are as fed up with it as I am, but this not a colony and don´t mention Neuschwabenland!"
"But Boss, we have a flying saucer in Bereich 51. And to be blunt, many reporter teams report what the station wants, not what is really the case. Neuschwabenland is quite right!"
"Yes, but that is a saucer from the damned Chaos Shorties we research in Bereich 51, and we are not in Antarctica."

Close to Nagenhof, 2 Brunntag Jahrdrang

On Earth the supercarrier had been the symbol US global reach, of its ability to exert its might nearly everywhere it so choose. The Bear bomber had mirrored that to a certain extend for the USSR, both symbols for a status missing from lesser nations.
The Zeppelin was quickly taking this role for Germany on the Warhammer World. The newest iterations of "Enterprise" could drop a humungous payload nearly everywhere on the Warhammer World and support whatever forces it had deployed there for as long as it took. If one worked below them they blocked the sky in ways usually only clouds could and their near-silent presence was hard to deny.

Even Ulrich Stoiber, whose mind was no longer bound by many of the strictures that his fellow Germans considered unbreakable and who had seen more than a few grand sights could not help but be impressed by the sight of no less than three airships which offloaded their cargo at the same time. Currently his tank stood watch over the valley in the rather unlikely case that the enemy would penetrate so far into the Empire. The very fact that two weeks ago an attack by fricking flying saucers would have been considered equally unlikely helped keeping everybody on their respective toes and had influenced force composition considerably.
Wolf 2 with its 35 mm AA gun was not the only anti-air unit about, as they were accompanied by several Wiesel weapons carriers bearing missiles and two Gepard tanks. And while he could neither see nor hear them with his own senses the virtual IFIS monitor that was projected into his helmet showed several Typhoons that flew racetrack patterns between Nagenhof and the Red River Valley.
They had encountered the "Flugscheiben" only once, there had not been any repeats. They were hot enough to show up in the seeker heads of IRIS missiles which took care of them rather nicely.
So far Ulrich could settle down for a lot of boredom for the next week or so as even via Zeppelin it took a while to assemble a force sufficient to deal with the Chaos stumpies kitted out as they currently were.

He was back to the lager several hours later and just made his way towards the cantina when he found his hand on his pistol and himself facing some shrubs before the situation had been properly analyzed by the rest of his brain that had not been touched by the War God. Something small and green emerged from the brushwork and looked very non-threatening.
"Hey humie, want to have a fancy mushroom? You can trust old Scratchbelley, yes you can only the finest mushrooms for mighty warrior, yes yes."
The growl was back in force and made the Goblin disappear even faster than it had arrived.

Babelsberg, Potsdam 3 Markttag Jahrdrang

Werner Herzog still had a shock of hair for somebody of his age, was no stranger to disputes with strong-willed and/or vain actors but what hair he had was definitely in danger of being torn out in frustrations. When the financing had been secured it sounded like a dream project, a chance of a lifetime and something worthy of an Oscar or two if it ever made its way to Hollywood via the link the mages provided at times.
It had even sounded easy up front, with a much reduced budget for special effects, with actors who did not cost an arm and a leg and a well-established plot. If he ever made it happen it would be a box-office-hit for sure and another classic very likely. But from where he stood now that he would be able to make it was a rather big "if".

First a clutch of his Asurian actors had done something unspeakable, had to undergo a purification rite and had cut their hair short in between shooting. Then the Dwarf he had pegged to play Albarich asked for even more money as he claimed playing that role would lower his status with all Dawi. And now this. The voice of his latest and in several ways biggest problem was so deep and so strong that he felt it as much as heard it. Falrauch was a great Dragon, older than the Empire, had worked as a Rent-a-Dragon Ride for a while and had easily agreed to play the role of Fafnir. That was until he had read the script and now he had qualms of some sort. Oh if he had never hatched the plan to film the "Ring des Nibelungen" with real Elves, Dragons and Dawi, he would be a happier man.

"No bathing in Dragon blood. Kill man anyway, does not make anybody invulnerable."
"Falrauch, this is just a story."
"Give people wrong ideas. Too many Dragon die these days. Never so many in so short time, need to be careful."
"This is just a story about Earth, not this world."
"Make beautiful pictures stupid people believe. Why would this ..Sigfried want to bathe in Dragon Blood anyway? Is he Blood Knight?"
"This is an old Saga and no he is not a Blood Knight."
"You sure, he behave like Blood Knight? Kills 12 giants and 700 men in one go, knows no fear, always wants to fight?"
"Of course he is no Blood Knight he is, now wait, that might be an idea….Falrauch, I`ll get back to you shortly..

Saratosa, Königstag, 6 Jahrdrang

Guilia de Allexandro had been the Pirate Queen of Saratosa till the Germans came. They wanted safe sea lanes for their war with the Skaven and had asked her pirates to leave the island. The fact that they had used 30 tons of Napalm in a demonstration to underline their demands had lent credence to their wishes and nil they will they the pirates left Saratosa. There had been good money to be earned as mercenaries for a while when the city states lent their regular soldiers to the campaign but when the war ended so did the demand for her crews as nobody trusted them enough with modern weapons.
Taking up her old business of pirating had been a losing preposition either. While she was clever enough to leave Imperial and German ships alone the once-easy picking of Tilean merchantman evaporated with better armaments and the Bretons organized heavily-armed convoys in the areas her ships operated in.

She had done her best to find employ for her crews, yet it was hard going and the present contract was a new low in many ways. Evidence for that was the horror before her. The being that moved at a slow shamble had many names with the pirates but basically it was an undead in the employ of the Vampire Captains. It was covered by tattered remains of a uniform, had bones poking from desiccated flesh in many places and its face had the permanent leer caused by the absence of lips.
The teenager in its way did not react to the danger at all, just pointed at it and made some noises and like in a nightmare she could not move at all to end the travesty.
It was a horror, it was a shame, it was disgusting and it was stupid. It also paid the bills.
Working as security for the "Pirates" Theme Park was safe, paid moderately well and filled the belly. It also showed her her demise so clearly that her teeth ground against each other in an effort not to scream.

Red River Valley same time

Lord Hrothgar lifted the weapon of the table in front of him. It did not look like he imagined a mighty weapon would, but the experiences of the last year had already taught him that this could be wildly deceiving. The rifles his warriors used looked positively anemic compared to the Blunderbusses of old and how much more powerful were they.

This thing was even smaller, was made of strange materials, looked and handled with surprising lightness and it would have been easy to dismiss if he had not seen its effects all too clearly during the battle with the humans.
He pulled the butt stock to his shoulder and all of a sudden the convoluted arrangement of tubes on top of the handle made sense. One tube gave a magnified view that probably allowed shooting distant targets better, the other projected a red dot that seemed to hover in his sight. He experimentally aimed for several of his assistants who tried their best not to flinch. Yes, this would make aiming easier than the iron sights affixed to the rifles used by his men. The clear magazine was nice but he was not sure what would happen if one mashed it into a rock. But the best thing he was about to try for himself.

A number of empty barrels and general flotsam had been put against the far wall of the cave. He pulled the handle back as he had been shown by the captive and pushed the small lever down till it aligned with the picture of a single round. He pulled the trigger, saw splinters jump off the barrel he had shot and pulled the trigger again and again with similar results. Another push on the lever and pulling the trigger resulted in a burst not unlike the machine gun he had recently handled himself. Nice, very very nice. Only as long as the ammunition captured would last, but nice. And the rounds did not look so differently from those fired by his warriors, just a bit smaller. They could make their own and then they could equip an assault company or two. Not that these would make up for the losses from the battle with the humans that tried to interfere with rounding up the feral Greenskins, but if they could copy the weapons and issue them it would do good things to him and Lord Gholam for sure. He just had to find a different name for the weapon, what did G-36 mean anyways.

Red River Valley, different place same time

Bignose was drooling from both sides of his mouth, which was remarkable given how few water the Goblin had been able to drink during the last week. Bignose had spent the first day of that week running away from the stumpies. He had not even tried to fight them as the warriors did. He was just a cobbler and he knew that he had to run if the enemy came calling. He had run to the valley`s side, he had done his best to clamber up the sheers rocks there and had to retract his way when the stumpies shot any green body that ascended above a certain level. He then had pressed his body to the rocks, had probed every small crag and crevice getting more frantic with every minute. Finally he had found sanctuary inside a lovely tunnel that went into the rock. Dark and small it had been most inviting, promising safety. Alas it had just been a dead end, becoming far too small even for him. In the end huge hounds had been used to find him and others.
The stumpies had beaten him on general principles when they had dragged him out, chained his neck together with 20 others and started to move them back the valley they had come. The little food he had carried on him had been taken by the slavers and ever since then he had barely received enough water, never mind much food.

It had been a nasty march, comprising ever-growing groups of Goblins that were rounded up whenever the stumpies and their bloodhounds had rounded up more of them. There had been no food on the first two days and even water had been in very short supply. The dying had begun on the second day and increased on the third when the more frail Goblins had collapsed. Any of them who had not gotten up again after the second application of the whip had been killed on the spot. Bignose did not remember much of the other days, he had been in a nightmare of hurt, thirst and hunger. A hunger that filled his every thoughts for a while, had given him fantasies of mushrooms, greens and even meat. He supposed that his stomach had gotten quiet during the time that he had spent in the fugue that mercifully clouded the last parts of the march.
He had become more conscious when he had been put into a huge cave together with a few hundred other Goblins and been given some brackish water. His stomach made itself felt again when he had been led to the trough together with ten others who shared his chain. The trough had been filled with a brownish glop they could feed on. Then his belly had started to burn, started to demand immediate satisfaction, had excluded any other thought from his mind but the terrible hunger.

The mush they were fed had a strange metallic taste to it, seemed to be mostly vegetables that had been half-boiled and half rotted into their current stage. Between these sinews, cartilages and a few fibers of meat gave a substance to the slop that surprised Bignose who could only wolf down the precious food as quickly as possible before his comrades in misery ate too big a share. The fact that none of them could use their chained limbs probably prevented a nasty fight among the Greenskins. Something struck in Bignose`s mouth, sharp and tasteless. It refused even his grinding teeth and with regret he spit the offending piece back into the through. He had eaten so much of the slop by now that the piece was still visible when it settled. Bignose needed a second to make sense of what he saw and primeval ice ran down his spine when his brain provided the conclusion.
The bit before him was a fingernail, a Goblin finger nail. That was when his mind refused to go on and his stomach redoubled its demands

Falcon&Hammer, Altdorf

Mathias Gertmann threaded his way through the busy tavern floor. It was a busy Koenigstag evening with lots of Germans and Imperials using the evening of the last working day before the weekend to relax. The Falcon&Hammer had been extensively rebuild after the Skaven attack on Altdorf. Electric lighting fell on ancient wooden paneling, fans took the edge off sweat and kitchen smells and several modern cooking implements had improved cuisine.
The rather favorable review that several medics had posted after they had been treated well and for free had made Master Weyland`s tavern a hot spot for Germans who looked for a good watering spot abroad.

One of the Taverns corners had been filled by a wraparound bench, a long table and sturdy chairs. They were about three-quarters occupied by a half dozen of middle-aged men whose garb made them Germans and younger women who wore mixture of traditional Imperial and German clothing. He was spotted before he had closed the distance completely and two of the men waved him over. He knocked on the table by the way of greeting.
"Good evening folks. Sorry to be late, snag in the production line."
"Glad you could make it at all. Grab that chair, we have ordered a mixed plate anyway."
Hermann Joost who had invited Mathias to the informal meeting indicated a chair next to him and the woman at his side made her way towards the bar to gather a huge stein of Kochbock.
"So how are things, settled down a bit more?"
"Still have some unpacked cartons if that is what you mean. But I got the letter this morning"
"THE letter?"
"Yes, the letter. The days of the bitch are gone."
"Don`t you tell me. You know that this squeaks like mad?"
"Yup, I know. You have any special lubricant in mind?"
"Bärenfang?"
"Bärenfang!"

A bit of hand waiving and shouting later the gorgeous waitress that worked the table brought a tray of shot glasses containing an amber liquid which were quickly distributed. Hermann rose from the bench, lifting his glass and gestured everybody to join.
"Listen up people, I want to introduce Mathias Gertmann to you , he has taken over the Eterna plant. I would like to include him into our small circle and toast his good news at the same time. As of this morning out Mathias is a free man again as his divorce came through. So Mathias, nice to have you and congrats. Auf Ex."
The honey-flavored spirit went down the gullets, the Vodka that gave the liqueur its kick warming the stomachs. There were cheers and catcalls, Mathias shook the hands of everybody present before the crowd sat down again. While they waited for the first course to appear he bent over to Hermann.
"You did not tell a tall story here, looks like everybody is in the same spot than me."
"What did you expect-our companies have invested heavily here so they have a source of cheap labor. They are not going to have their hundred-plus million Mark investment overseen by a snotty kid fresh from university or some Imperial who thinks that your looms are powered by magic. So they look for people like us, people with experience who look for a change. Takes three days from here to Hamburg or Berlin if everything works, so going home for the weekend is out. Getting the family to Altdorf is still roughing it or expensive, so best take somebody with no family. So whom does that leave-us the divorced idiots who will pay till kingdom come. Here at least you can live like a king on next to no money if you can stand Imperial food and one of their houses. And there are lots of things to make up for the hardship."

A small turn of Hermann`s head indicated the blonde besides him who was talking animatedly with a brunette that accompanied another German.
"How come, they are after the money or what?"
"That we have lots of money by their standard helps for sure, but there are the other things."
"Things like?"
"Things like that we bathe regularly, that we brush our teeth, that we do not beat them. It helps that we do not care for dowry, virginity or past and respect them as humans and not just beasts of burden one can bed when one feels like it. And that is a quote from Magda here."
"We´ll see what happens. How are things with you?"
"Good, the second factory in Nuln is running smoothly now so I do not have to go there every other week."
"Good to hear. I think I am getting a hold myself. We are expanding again next year and I have to get a grip of the current lines before we get new ones."
"Hu, do shirts sell so well?"
"Pretty much so. It is not only that many of our people find that their old clothes from before the Weltensprung have to be replaced. The Imperials buy roughly one tenth of what we make and the Tileans and Kiselvites have started as well. And while us Germans complain that T-Shirts no longer cost five Marks for three pieces the others think an Eterna shirt for 30 Marks is dirt cheap."
"Ask me about it. Now that the Imperial post is working, advertising leaflets and newspapers are an item everybody wants a letterbox made from stainless steel, not to mention one of the other items. And in part we are responsible for all that turnover as we employ so many people and pay them more than the usual wage around here. We currently build up both the supply and the demand side and all of that just because we wanted some Imperials to work at the factories we no longer have in Bangladesh and China. And don`t ask Jan at the other end of the table, he could tell you how much is left of the Imperial banks which is not very much. We simply had so much more money than the Imperials and a much better idea how to use it. Yesterday I heard something funny from Alex from the Chamber of Commerce."
"What?"

"We, the German financed companies in the Empire, are probably 40 to 45 % of their GNP already and that percentage is rising. Their economy is running hot and we are in the driver`s seat."
"So much in so few years?"
"We build like mad that is for sure, but the bigger part is how poor in comparison the Imperials were when we came. A little bit goes a long while here."
"And the Imperials have no problems with that?"
"Most of the Empire`s nobility is only interested in the income you can generate with farming, we don`t bother them too much in that regard. The craftsmen are getting some pacifier or another by the Chamber of Crafts and are quiet for now. The few who know better like Karl Friedrich von Altdorf or the Countess of Nuln are earning more money than ever before, so they are quiet or even enthusiastic. In ten years or so thing might get interesting though.
"Interesting?"
"For several values of interesting, that is for sure. But I do believe you have something else to do my friend."
"What.."
It was the smell of perfume and the proximity of a body that made him turn around which availed him a very close-up look into an impressive cleavage.
"I have not seen you here before stranger. Where are you from?"

Mouth of Red River Valley

Lord Gholam watched the logs disappear under a layer of dirt. It was the second layer of logs and dirt in top of the low-slung strongpoint that watched over the western end of the Red River valley. The position had a good field of fire and so he choose to emplace two of his precious autocannons and several machine guns inside. There were two supporting positions in the works that would cover the flanks and back of this one with rifles and machine guns so that sneaking up on any would be an invitation to a carnage. All positions were connected by tunnels of course and there was another one that led to the caverns inside the valley`s side. Something green stuck up from the loam that covered the logs, on closer inspection a Goblin`s arm. Gholam disapproved, the body would rot leaving a cavity and that would not do.
A remark to his aide sent people running while he again went back to inspect the construction effort.

His mind started to wander when all he saw for a moment were the ant-like movements of warriors and slaves alike. As usual he thought about his current position in the DawiZharr society and the threats to that position. He had conquered a vast valley that would allow to raise food for thousands upon thousands of DawiZharr. He had captured lots of slaves, among them some seemed to have valuable knowledge they spilled when they were questioned harshly. He had captured weapons of great might which might be copied and used by the DawiZharr. He had killed a great lot of feral Greenskins and Humans for the glory of Hashut and ZharrNaggrund.
He should feel good, he should feel a conquering hero. He did not.

The battle, glorious as it was had been bought with losses, near crippling ones to some of his units. He had surprised the enemy and flanked a good part of them from the start and still he had lost so many DawiZharr. He had employed the Golems which had been so effective in breaking Greenskin resistance again and again and more than a few of them had been brought low by fliers and cars that looked like gnats compared to his war machines.
He had sent out the flying disks who were sure to mow down all opposition and they had been handled roughly.
He had a good commander blocking the human`s escape route and they had still made good their escape.

All of that had been noted at ZharrNaggrund together with his greatest failure. He had been warned not to engage the humans who were said to be mighty foes. Lord Astragoth did not want too many enemies at a time. His human advisers had told him that would be far too dangerous, that the humans had entered an alliance that would bring overwhelming force and threaten the DawiZharr.
He was pretty sure that he still had command as Astragoth needed somebody to take the fall if things got to a head, but he did not think they would. His Warsmiths had managed to reforge several Golems and disks and reinforcements had arrived. From what his scouts and the maps told him there were no great roads or rivers that led to this place, so whoever wanted to send a great army would have a hard time supporting it.
And while the humans had fought well and had employed weapons even better than his own they had not been overwhelming. If they dallied more he would have them attack prepared positions and he very much doubted that they would enjoy the experience. When he turned to make his way back to headquarters something caught his eye. He needed a second to realize what he had noticed and even then he could not make place what he saw. A fast growing cloud of the purest white high up in the sky, very straight and with a small dot at its start.