Since I have no time this Saturday to update, I post this weeks update earlier. Have fun!

Intermezzo: Can you recognize luck?

"I welcome you all that found time for this humble meeting and feel honored to see many familiar faces.
Today´s story speaks about luck and how it is all in the eye of the beholder:

We are on a marketplace somewhere in this world.
Somehow, a single golden coin had found its way to the uneven pavement.
Two nearby men noticed it at the same moment.
Both of them immediately tried to unconsciously hurry over to pick it up.
The closer one suddenly tripped and fell to the ground, giving the other one enough time to reach the coin and take it.

So, who had luck and who had none?
I can see in your eyes that you think this question is too easy.
Let me tell you what happened after this:

The man with the coin wanted to celebrate his luck and visited a tavern.
To share his happiness, he bought drinks for everyone.
In the evening this man was then assaulted by men he had drunk together with only hours before.
They thought he had to have much more money if he could effort to buy drinks for all of them.
When they found nothing, not believing his remarks about how he had found the money he had used, they killed him in rage.

The man that had fallen had now a rip in his trousers he wanted to have mended.
So he visited a nearby tailor shop he would never had entered otherwise.
He encountered the young daughter helping out in the shop.
It was mutual love on the first sight.
In due time, they married, had three wonderful children, and would die peacefully in their sleep many decades later.

So, who had luck and who had none?

Western Kislev

As early as a few weeks after the Weltensprung, German engineers had been busy extending the railroad network into the Empire.
In the past years, they, being accompanied by a growing number of experienced Imperial workers and engineers, had learned to handle all possible environments and reactions of the local population when they reached new regions.
Sometimes they were welcomed as the beginning of a glorious future, sometimes landowners wanted to haggle so much for passage and build rights that Imperial envoys had to be called in to negotiate.
It had all been a single big mess, but the network continued to grow nonetheless.

Now that the foundation had been erected, the experiences made, the biggest obstacles overcome, competitors appeared that wanted to exploit the situation.
It had taken several months until the first wave of surveyor had received the clearance to begin a survey of Kislevite territory for future lines.
But suddenly, Kislev had cancelled their cooperation with the German companies, preferring the wanna-be crusaders of the Army of Light.
Without anyone noticing, many Imperial workers and engineers had already been headhunted, supplying them with the knowledge the Germans had painstakingly accumulated through the years.

The German companies were furious.
Not because they had been betrayed, as the Army of Light and the Kislevites had made sure to not break any treaty or law.
But because they knew how lucrative railroads connecting Germany, Empire and Kislev—maybe someday even extending as far as the World´s Edge Mountain in the East and the Frozen Sea in the North—would be.

Informational paper distributed to all atamans throughout Kislev

To Our loyal servants in the Kingdom of Kislev:
After many discussions and considerations, with the consent of Our advisors and in close cooperation with Our allies of the Reiksbund, we will introduce a mandatory conscription for all capable men and women aged between eighteen and twenty.

All conscripts will serve to better the Kingdom of Kislev for one year.
Housing, catering and medical attendance for the conscripts will be supplied by the Kingdom of Kislev.
Families requiring the help of conscripted family members will be compensated by the Kingdom of Kislev.

Conscripts will receive education conveying basic knowledge in writing, reading, mathematics, first aid, self defense, history and politics.
Capable conscripts may receive additional education in individual subjects to improve their skills.
Subsequently, the conscripts will be used to extend and maintain infrastructure, survey and patrol the country, assist in logistics or in learned professional fields of work.

After finishing their service time, conscripts will automatically become reserve members of the to be established royal auxiliary.
Conscripts may apply for continued service in the auxiliary.
Reserve members of the auxiliary are to return to duty for three months in intervals of five years, participating in refresher courses and field maneuvers.

It is Our goal and hope that this decision will help to make the Kingdom of Kislev into a better country.
The appearance of Germany and the establishment of the Reiksbund brought stability, safety and hope to our continent.
It is now our turn to do our part in upholding and enlarging this hope.

To the local ataman:
More and more rumors about an imminent war with Troll Country are emerging these days.
The rumors are true, We will once again fight against Our Northern enemies.
This time not just to stop their incursions, but to once and for all eradicate them and to take the lands that rightfully belong to Us.

The conscription is a part to prepare Our country for this war.
However, the conscripts will not fight at the front lines, but will support the soldiers with their duties from the rear.
They will make sure that the country will continue to flourish while Our soldiers slay Our enemies.
They will keep the streets open, the factories working, the supplies flowing, and many more things.
We have learned from past wars, and will make sure that you and the soldiers you will lead against the enemy in due time will have everything you need to succeed.

It will take time to adequately prepare for this final war.
Until the end of Troll Country begins, We await that you continue your loyal service and to prepare for the things to come.

Signed
Tzarina Katarin

Dark Lands, 12.000 meters AGL

Mike Koslowski had flown daylight missions more often than not, both in this world and the last one. Still, the bright sunlight that streamed through the cockpit windows made him feel exposed, especially as he was lacking any kind of escort.
He could tell himself a hundred times that nothing within a thousand miles could hurt him as long as he kept at this kind attitude, it still went against every training and instinct that he had.
That the weather made for long feathery contrails simply enhanced his unease, as if a long finger pointed to his plane and told Murphy where to strike.

There was few choice but execute the mission now as for the next days the constellation of GPS satellites that would allow his bombs to strike would only happen during daylight. He watched the ground on one of the MFDs, the picture being provided by a high resolution camera coupled to a gimballed telescope. The small group of bombers had already passed the IP, the point where the final course to target was laid in and no deviations were allowed, but had not yet reached the "basket", the 3-dimensional space where they could release the bombs and they had enough momentum to steer themselves into their targets. He saw "it" at the same time that his navigator and could not believe it for a long second. He had trained for such events again and again, had even pushed the new crews of his flight through this training but had never expected anything like this to happen for many years hence. Something that looked bigger than a fricking telephone pole lifted on a pillar of flames, how had the bleeding stumpies acquired SAMs?"

Quickfingers had trouble breathing as somehow he weighed more than ever before in his life. He did not hear very much as all around him a deep rumble drowned everything, he was shaken as a rat in the mouth of a terrier and somehow an Orc seemed to sit on his chest.
Apart from that he was free of pain, which was a miracle as the last weeks had been an unending procession of pains. He had been in pain so much that anything, quite literally anything that made the apin go away was good and anything that increased it was bad.

As during the last weeks he was free of pain only when he kept the black dot centered in the middle of the tube he was looking through. When the dot wandered he had to pull the levers until it was in the center of the tube again, otherwise the pain would start. He now saw the dot at the tip of the strange white cloud that followed it and watched it grow larger while he diligently moved the levers so that it was always centered.

The small Goblin was sitting on top a huge rocket that was hurled into the sky on a flame that spoke of nearly modern propellant. The Dawizharr had built rockets for centuries, mixing spectacular failures with even more spectacular destruction in places which were usually not the designated target. Mathias Hartig had given the Chaos Dwarfs double-based propellants which burned predictably and stable while having lots of energy, others had added things like casting these in a star profile so a huge initial push was followed by a longer lower sustained thrust. While all of that was fine and dandy for the unguided missiles that the Germans had developed for their stumpie sponsors there was only very few things they could do for guidance. Accuracy was dismal at long ranges and hitting a moving target was out of the question.
That was until one of the Demonsmiths mentioned the Kamikaze Catapults that the Greenskins sometimes used and the fertile mind of Johann Prossy saw opportunities where others only saw hilarity and madness.
And so a rocket powered by four solid-fueled thrusters was guided to its target by levers, movable fins and a Goblin who was all too happy to be by his own and free of pain in the last minutes of his life.

Mike Koslowski pushed the button that connected him to all planes of his flight.
"All Bald Eagles, multiple SAM at 092, repeat SAM at 092. Break and evade."
He barely heard the "acknowledged" while he pushed the throttle levers forward and pressed the button that fed water into the engines for more thrust. A very short check revealed that his wingman had already started into increase distance so he was free to put his bomber into a series of "S" turns.
"Talk to me Nav."
"SAM is at 4000 meters, still tracking, now 3500, tracking, 3000, I have burnout, 2500…"

Quickfingers world had just changed considerably. No longer were his great ears assaulted by near-intolerable noise and the vibrations had lessened considerably. The Ork on his chest was gone and he could breathe easily and the forces needed to pull on the levers reduced itself with every passing second. The dot was something different now, something like a huge metal bird that flew through the sky without waggling its wings and he wondered briefly what would have happen when he would finally meet it. Presently it grew by the second and now it even turned towards him-did it want to mate with his rocket?
And then it was suddenly gone. Well not without a trace, he had seen that the bird had moved to the right quite abruptly and so he pulled the levers with all his might. Doing so turned the rocket and allowed him the sight of his target again, but it also exposed the sides and control surfaces to the slipstream, slowing him down considerably with each second. As his engines had consumed their fuel he was flying on momentum and borrowed time and after a few seconds the bird that showed his tail now became smaller, not bigger any more. No matter what lever he pulled nothing could bring him closer.
To his utter astonishment there was no pain, even when he lost sight of the bird and there would be none till his ride terminated in the Dark Lands below a minute later. The 100 kilogram warhead made sure that his death was fast and painless as well. By that time the German bombers were under attack again from a very different source.

Mordred sat cross-legged on the same balcony that had allowed him to watch the last attack, but his eyes were closed now and his senses were attuned to a reality closed to most mortals. He did not look for reflected light to find his targets, he looked for souls. There were so many of them around him, a vast sea of light and sound yet the ones he was looking for were the only ones high above the ground and hurling through the frigid air at a speed barely below the speed of sound. The souls were warded well, they were inside chariots which were protected by mighty seals crafted by powerful mages. There were many of them and they were backed up by practitioners of the art which monitored them and who could undoubtedly reinforce these defenses if he tried to breach them.
To most mages this would have been a near-impossible task but he was certainly not most mages. Working with subtlety instead of brute force he pushed his mind between the chinks of the wards, used so little force that the defenses never registered him and when he was in he had a look at the minds before him.

Interesting minds, very structured, very much given to abstract thought and highly trained. Boring as they were not given to the excesses of joy that the Price of Pleasure valued so much. Well, it would be easier that way.
He found the mind that controlled the giant plane and went inside. It was such an interesting place, this man had seen and experienced what was totally alien to him, yet he was not here to sight-see. It would have been a great thing to suborn this one, to make him do his and the Prince`s bidding but that was not to be in the short time that he had before more destruction would rain on him and his people.
It was so easy-here the sight entered the mind, here the inner ear gathered information. And now just a little change, just a slow tilt that would make the pilot think that he was flying with one wing hanging and he would have to correct…

Felix Berggarten was worried sick. This was the second attack against a capable enemy and it was during daytime so surprise was out of the question. The DawiZharr were known to posses magic but what kind was unknown and their patron deity was close by if there was a "close by" where such beings were concerned. It was entirely possible that they would mount an attack from the Empyrean on the small flight and he would be the first line of defense against it-and the final one if it came to it.

He knew himself to be good, but whether he was good enough in the face of a city full of mages possessing an unknown lore was an open question. His comrades might not trust him fully but he was not going to let them down. Checking and rechecking the wards that protected the plane he was about to put his sight to the Empyrean again when the plane started to tilt to the right at an alarming rate. And even he knew that this was not in the plan, but if he were ignorant of that the astonished shouts of the crew would alarm him.

When he saw the other realm everything was as it should be, there was nothing out the ordinary, or was it. Searching frantically for something, anything that could be a clue he missed the fine thread two times until it moved a tiny bit between two scans. He concentrated on it and found that the thread had managed to pass through chinks that he and any other human mage would have considered to small. It seemed small and insignificant, unable to bear much power yet when his mental feelers tried to probe it something burned him as if he had touched a live wire. The power that he had touched so carelessly was totally out of his league and the chance to keep his crew from harm that way was simply nil.
He tried to let go of this tendril of power but found himself well and truly struck. He pushed with increasing despair and felt himself grow weaker with every passing second. The mental probe he had extended was the pathway by which pain and destruction was channeled into him.
There was only one way to end that and he needed to be quick about it. Instead of trying to protect his ephemeral limb from destruction he channeled his few remaining reserves of power into more destruction, and with the same determination and pain that an animal that chewed its way out of a trap he left a part of himself at the mercy of whatever force assailed the crew he had sworn to protect.

He saw the chaos inside the bomber through teary eyes that refused to open fully. They barely registered the small items that flew through a 300-ton plane that tried to do barrel rolls while its pilot was fighting off other crew-members. He cared for none of it as he had one task to fulfill before he could succumb to an unconsciousness that was about to swallow him whole.
He managed to get his left arm up but missed the button twice. Only then was he able to remove the cover and press the button down all the way.
He was already out of it when two rows under the plane started to belch fire and smoke. Canisters were ejected from the spinning bomber and gained a few dozen meters distance before explosions ripped them apart and covered a part of the sky with green-tinted smoke that started to burn intensely when exposed to the air.
Felic Berggarten had just deployed the Warpstone anti-mage defense for the first time in combat. The results were a resounding success.

Mike Koslowski woke up with the suddenness that is normally associated with fire alarms or drill sergeants. His plane was far past the vertical in at least two axes, far closer to stall than he liked and his crew were shouting at him like he were mad.
More thrust and some deft stickwork took care of the first two problems and reduced shouting. He was about to ask for position and course for the bombing run when his gunner chimed in.
"Skipper, something happened to Felix-he is unconscious and there is blood from his mouth and nose-Jesus he is bleeding from his eyes..."
"Guns, keep his airways free, we will see what we can do later. Nav, I need a course for IP again, we need to get rid of some bombs."

Jasla was puking again and the false colors that tinted her vision promised a migraine that would make the splitting headaches that wrecked her brain seem benign in comparison when it was fully developed. Mordred had his head in his hands and made sounds that should not come from a true elven throat.
Losing control of a spell was never a good idea, but here something had produced such a nasty spike of raw magical energies that every mage in quite some distance had to feel it the worst way.

She was still massaging her temples when the first bombs exploded in ZharrNaggrund.

B1 Bomber, Dark Lands, 12000 meters AGL

Darkness shrouded the speeding German planes while they made their way to the enemy again. There was a tension in the cockpit of the bomber that had escaped destruction twice on their last minute and a close shave it had been.
They were about to attack an enemy that had demonstrated the ability to detect them, to shoot SAM and to attack with spells that somehow managed to go past the many wards that protected them and had barely been turned by their resident mage.
The mage who was not with them on this mission, having been replaced by a wizened old man whom they had to talk out of his many robes so that he could wear the suit that would maybe save his life when they had to eject.

Mike Koslowski was the bomber`s pilot which meant that his Co-pilot was flying most of the way till things got really dicey. As "Indian country" was still a way off and tanking was done he found a bit of time to talk to the crewmember who had joined the team less than a day before.
Switching the intercom to private channel he turned till he faced the old man.

"MWO, this is Captain...ah Primarch Valerian, this is the Captain."
"Yes Captain Koslowski, what can I do for the commander of such a marvel?"
"Well, I never got around to ask why you volunteered for this mission. Felix wanted to fly very badly, but he seemed to be an exception."
"He is certainly an exceptional young mage, not only as he longed to fly so much. He is also one of the most gifted initiates the Light Order recruited in quite some time. He is missed in the Temple as he had a lot to offer. Some say he would have gone very far within it."
"He never told us about that."
"Felix was always very modest and actually a bit shy. His decision to postpone his studies and to leave the order for such an enterprise astonished all and angered not a few. It is a small surprise that he would not talk with you about it."

"He cannot go back to your order?"
"That will very much depend on whether he heals well. His mind was harmed as least as much as his body, if not more so during the fight. We all hope that he will make a fully recovery, but nobody can say if his gift is restored to what it once was."
"So if you folks are angry at him why are you here?"
"He was my student and so I feel the responsibility to continue his mission when he can do so no longer. He was so sure that this was an important undertaking and that is enough for me."
"We all hope he will make a full recovery. He will be welcome back to the crew at any time."
"I will tell him when we are back, I do believe it will make him happier."
"Then tell him one more thing: If he cannot be a mage any longer, he will still fly. We will teach him."
"That is generous of you I am sure. So what do you expect me to do and when?"
"We will start our descent in..two hours and will approach the target at low attitude this time, we have to. We have about five minutes of Warpfire, so our security before and after that is in your hand."
"I will see what I can do about that."

ZharrNaggrund

A different balcony this time and different beings on it. Lord Astragoth had brought his entourage, Jasla`s slave Petra was there and a few of her other Germans and several demonsmiths had been ordered to join in. The mood was tense with nearly all parties looking like they would kill somebody at the slightest provocation. The only exception was Mordred who had been open, friendly and seemed to be full of innocent curiosity. The impression lost a bit of its shine whenever he eyed Petra who shuddered whenever his gaze fell upon her while Mordred`s smile resembled that of a cat on the edge of a Goldfish bowl.

Lord Astragoth`s voice was even deeper than usual and the pain in it worse. A pain that implied the threat that he would make others suffer worse suffused every word.
"So for what time did your Germans announce this "demonstration" Johann Prossy."
"They stated that it would start in about 15 minutes highness."
"So what will they do and what do they think this why do they do this."
"I have to speculate on both accounts highness."
"Amuse me then."
"They will want to demonstrate that they can penetrate our defenses even when we know they are coming and they will want to show us what they are capable of without doing it."
"And why do you think they will just "demonstrate" and not just do as much damage as they can?"
"They will tell their people that it is to spare the life of slaves and civilians highness. They will also think that they would like to negotiate with a ruler who knows their capabilities but who is still alive."

"Do you believe I am easily cowed Prossy?"
"No Highness I do not."
"You should never give that impression Prossy. You can never be useful enough to survive that."
"I beg for mercy highness."
"Granted, for now. How much that remains so depends on how well your contraptions do tonight."
"Highness they are new and untested…."
"And should do well Prossy, it would be better."

A few minutes later several flickering lights dispelled the darkness around Zharr-Naggrund and barely-seen things rose on pillars of flame, arching from the vertical pretty soon. Jasla and Mordred suddenly stopped moving and both displayed eyes of the purest white to the world.

B1 Bomber, 2000 meters AGL, close to ZharrNaggrund

The huge plane was descending from the dark heavens above to a hell below. Before Mike Koslowski`s cockpit windows scattered buildings that looked like a steampunk version of Babylon done on acid sat in a landscape of darkness dotted with the orange glow of lava eruptions. Several kilometers in front of his group a Ziggurat rose to the sky, set in a huge city lit by fire and veiled in smoke that rose from many chimneys.

"Guns, is that thing still with us."
"Yes, it is, still 500 meters behind. Uh what-Captain it just starts to glow a bit more."
The four descending bombers were flying in a loose formation of two pairs, joined by an ethereal pyramid that followed them for the last 15 minutes or so. If Valerian would not have announced it before he summoned what he called Pha`s Protection to help warding off hostile magic it would have disturbed the crew even more than it already did.

A slightly strained voice filtered through the earphones.
"Captain Koslowski, we have come under attack and a very intense one. I hope we can engage your other defenses soon, this is taking a toll./span
"Two more minutes Primarch, we just have cartridges for five…"
"Vampire Vampire Vampire. Captain, I have launches at one and two o`clock, two more at nine and five."
"Captain, guns-I am on Vampire one and two."
"Acknowledged. Nav, keep an eye on the other bogeys, guns I`ll keep course for now."
"All Bald Eagles, we have incoming Vampires. Take them down, we do not want to go around."

The last time the Germans had been attacked by stumpie SAMs they had been at very high attitude which gave them plenty of time and space to evade. As they were flying much lower this time around this was not an option so other ways to deal with the threat were needed. Fortunately the slow speed of the missiles allowed for another solution.
The rising missiles were built from steel, wood and explosives, they had lots of angles and edges and showed up well on the radar in the bombers bow. David Grun, "Guns", the officer in charge of the bomber`s defenses marked two of the slow weapons on the screen and pushed a button when the two contacts on the TFT before him changed color and started to pulse.
"Fox 4, Fox 4"

The plane`s designers had been told that the bombers would have to fly some missions unescorted and that adequate defenses were required. They had copied the 27mm gun installation that had replaced the Gatling in the "Grey Lady" to the tail of the huge warplane and had taken a page from the British Nimrods. Under each wing a small fairing held two IRIS missiles, ready to attack any airborne target in the bomber`s frontal arc. The missile seekers were supercooled by liquid nitrogen for hours now and easily able to spot the hot missiles against the colder background. Slaved to the warplane`s radar they did not have to search for long. When they got the signal the two missiles sped from their racks and accelerated until they were nearly three times as fast as their designated targets.

Both missiles were sufficiently clever to keep the SAM in their sights when their targets` boosters burned out and the profile changed drastically.
It did not make any difference for the Goblin pilots who managed to keep the bombers in their sights except for shortening their lives by about 30 seconds. In less than a minute three explosions lit the night, the closest a kilometer from the Germans. When their light faded it was replaced by the greenish strobing of warpstone canisters fired every few seconds.
The ethereal pyramid that had accompanied the planes so far faded from view, the DawiZharr mages tried their very best disengage themselves from their spells before things really went south. A few even made it.

"One degree left, steady steady..bomb bay opening, bomb bays open, bombs away, bombs away"
Mike Koslowski had to adjust attitude a bit when more than 30 tons of steel and explosives left his plane in very few seconds. Bald Eagle 2 dropped a similar payload, the two planes following were loaded differently and followed about a minute behind.
Below the bombers the sprawling construction site of a new manufacturing district had a mixture of sturdy walls, riveted steel supports and wooden construction. The nighttime attack meant that far fewer beings toiled on the site than usual which made it the ideal target in the minds of the Germans who hoped their final message might stop things before they got seriously out of hand.

The dumb bombs released by the first two planes were comparatively thin-walled metal cylinders, just enough to get their payload of explosives into the place they needed to be. Exploding after hitting the first solid thing that slowed them sufficiently they sent out pressure waves that flattened everything in their wake until they met the shockwaves thrown up by their peers. Then they merged and became that much more destructive. A silvery wall of explosions walked through the target toppling walls, crushing supports and opening all rooms before throwing their contents all over creation.

Mile Koslowski`s attack prepared a pyre, the following planes ignited it. The construction site and then some was covered in a viscous burning fluid that burned everything in its path. Napalm B had a terrible reputation in two worlds by now and it was fully justified. During the ten minutes that it kept the target area above a thousand degree it reduced any living being to fine ashes, melted steel and iron into useless slag, burned wood so well that mere shadows indicated where it might have been and bricks were splintered into shards.
The site needed more than a day to cool down to the point where Lord Astragoth could inspect the carnage. A message had been sent, received and understood just too well.

ZharrNaggrund, three days later

The room was the same than before, the participants had all been here before and yet everything was different. Where before everybody had been on their toes now they were terrified for their lives. Where before Lord Astragoth had projected a facade of professionalism and cool leadership stretched over boiling hate now his inner beast had been fully released. Where before quiet menace had ruled the air now a scream that was half Dawizharr, half steam engine and all madness threatened all eardrums.
A table that had taken some of the DawiZharr`s best craftsmen many years to cut from solid rock had been shattered into a thousand pieces by the hammers that had replaced the Lord`s hands. Mixed with the splinters were the ragged remains of a slave, a former General and a hapless German.
The most incongruous change was the red flower in the small pot held by Mordred who seemed to be the only being in the room who was unperturbed at the outbreak amongst their midst.

"You promised me powerful weapons. You promised me lands to farm, food to heal my warriors and glory for Hashut to bask in. You did none of this, your weapons are unable to defend us, your troops unable to defeat even the Greenskins and Hashut is displeased that his holy soil is under attack."

The screamed accusations were punctuated by more hammer blows that shattered more priceless artifacts, threatened more beings and unsettled them to the point where a thoughtful response or giving sound advice was nearly impossible. Not that Lord Astragoth felt any need for such thoughts and such advice presently. His capacity for rational thought was rather diminished presently, overshadowed by the rage he displayed openly and the deep fear that he hid behind it. Even if it were his aides and assistants who had failed so badly, in the eyes of the other DawiZharr he would appear weak. And the weak did not survive for long in ZharrNaggrund.

"So you do believe that it is acceptable that we will be allowed to buy our food from this this Reiksbund and pay with raw materials." The head of another statue caromed through the attendants, propelled to near-cannon speed by Astragoths hammers.
"So you think that you Germans would better live as prisoners of your countrymen then work hard here." The rest of the statue exploded into many fragments which whizzed around the room.
"So you do believe we do not need the valleys in the World`s Edge mountains so we can grow our own food." Cracks appeared in the floor when one hammer missed Mordred by a few centimeters.
"So you think it is acceptable that this this Reiksbund will gain an embassy here to better spy on us." Another swing missed the young Druchii and the potted plant that was still residing under his right arm.

"So.." A hand gripped the still-fleshy part of his right arm, pale, slender and seemingly far too weak to stop Lord Astragoth`s mighty swings and yet it froze the DawiZharr in his tracks. The half-mechanical legs were rooted to the spot, the thick arms were frozen in mid-swing and the wide-open mouth was silent but for heavy breathing. None of the onlookers could believe it, yet after a few seconds the features set into a grimace of hate seemed to soften a bit while small beads appeared on all visible skin looking for all the world like sweat.
"You are anger is mighty my Lord as befits one of your station who is wronged and insulted by those far below him. Even in my youth and utter lack of experience I see that these humans raise impossible demands and sully your honor. And yet it seems to me that we should play along for a while, buy their food, entertain their ambassadors and return our troops from the World`s Edge mountains all the while we make ourselves independent from the shackles by which they think they can control us.
Please let me show you what I can do to aid you in these arduous times."

The eyes of Lord Astragoth widened, his breathing became slower but more hoarse and sounded.. different than just minutes ago.
"As you can see it should not be too much of a problem to pull a veil around the senses of those who want to watch us when I can foil even the eyes of the mighty Lord before me. My genitor is the Price of Pleasure after all, Master of all we sense and enjoy. Now watch this little flower please, it is not just beautiful to watch and grows very quickly, I was also able to remake it in such a way that it will pull the heavy metals from the ground that will only bear poison at present. It will take a few years during which we will need to heed the human demands and buy food from them, but we will be able to eat well in a couple of years."
By not Lord Astragoth had relaxed the tiny bit that he was allowed for and started to mouth something.

"Oh that sweat that rolls of your mighty brow? Consider this a small gift from my Master to you. Like all DawiZharr you use the magic given to you by Hashut you slowly turn to stone. What a sad fate for such a ferocious warrior and fierce ruler, unable to control your own limbs and to partake in the pleasures of the flesh. We need you, Lord Astragoth, you and your vassals strong so there is a cure to this sickness."
Finally a jaw unclenched, the lips under the beard moved and a slightly strangled sound escaped the DawiZharr ruler.
"What do you want?"
"Oh, I just want to help, helping me in furthering my genitor`s goals by helping you. I will help you to curb the march of these Germans, help you to become really powerful and when you are powerful and independent again you will help me to claim by birthright. You need more space and slaves: I will give you the keys to a place that has both in abundance and that the Germans do not give a bit of attention to whom owns it."
"And what about them?"
"Oh you mean our pet Germans that their erstwhile countrymen want back? Do we really need all of them or just…