Paris, France, Earth 2023

Pierre and Jeanette Begois were young parents in the French capital, but this evening they had for themselves. The kids had been happily picked up by Jeanette´s parents, giving the pair time for themselves.
After dinner in their favorite restaurant a cinema visit was on the plan. During the walk to the cinema, Pierre and Jeanette discussed which movie they should see.

Pierre would never say it aloud, but he was very happy that his wife liked Science-Fiction as much as "chick flicks". So the two soon reached a consensus about going to a new sci-fi or fantasy movie.
When they reached the cinema, with the program posted on big posters, the decision became more complicated. Awaited eagerly by a partly costumed crowd, the french version of Star Wars 10 "Descendants of the Force" would hit the French cinemas this evening. A movie Pierre and Jeanette would really like to see, but an equally large group of cineasts awaited the premiere of the German movie "Skavenblight - Against the Horned Rat", the third film of the Skavenblight trilogy.

One of the great ironies of movie history was the big comeback of the German cinema, with Germany actually missing from Earth. While contact with Germany was still not as regular as some scientists thought possible, it was regular enough to exchange transmittable stuff, like movies.

Despite and to a large part even because Germany was on a different planet, the exchanged movies and TV-shows flooded the Science-Fiction and Fantasy market. In part, even the horror sector, as was the case for example with the second Skavenblight movie, which showed the terrors of the breeding pits and the brutal, vertical Stalingrad-esque battle in the Skaven capital.

Some nations even banned part of the movie and TV productions from Germany. The German Sesame Street post-Weltensprung and other children's shows like Löwenzahn (Dandelion) or Sendung mit der Maus (The Show with the mouse) are heavily censored i.e. in the US or outright banned in the Near East.
Teaching children how to spot likely Chaos taint, to evade certain animals or to defend yourself against smaller mutant beasties was not something Earth children should see as soon as German kids had to.

Directors like Petersen or von Donnersmarck were now even more known than before. Detlev Sierk was the foremost playwright of the empire. While the Earthers knew some of his works, on Warhammer he was regarded as on par with Shakespeare and Goethe.
But it was not only movies and TV shows which sold, German documentaries on the nations and the planet Warhammer itself could sweep the streets clean on Earth, with very high viewing rates.

Not all movie stuff from the other world sold well. While rather rare, some shows were unchanged from before the Weltensprung, they did not sell on Earth beyond as they did before the "Great Change", as Earth began to name the Weltensprung more and more.

Athel Loren, Border of Cythral, the Wildwood

Athel Loren was a life-threatening place for anybody but the Asrai. Some parts were too dangerous even to them. Some of the Forest Spirits, some of the Treekin and the treemen had been on the losing side when Athel Loren decided to take in the Elf. They had been direly needed, otherwise Dawi axes or Beastmen would have murdered the entity that was Athel Loren long ago. Still many still resented that choice, others had dispositions that did not allow them to be around anything else but their own.

These had been relegated to a corner of Athel Loren called Cythral, the Wildwood. Enclosed by many Waystones the barrier kept the rest of the Warhammer World from another batch of crazy killers and murdering colossi. Even this magic was insufficient to keep Athel Loren safe, that needed the aid of the Wildwood Rangers, led by Lady Draya. There were no more stand-fast Asrai than the Rangers, their steadiness unsettling even to other Wood Elves.

They had not expected any new attacks by the crazed Spirits during the winter, the cold subdued even them. These expectations had been wrong, something had stirred the beings within to a ferocious attack. The Wildwood Rangers had left their winter quarters in time and now stood at the barrier. A dark purple screen stretched all through the forest, projected by the ancient Waystones. Something on the other side was attacking it with a vengeance, causing lightning to spark off the screen. In other places it became nearly black or went to the other extreme and became transparent, revealing the horrors on the other sides.

Towering treemen threw themselves against the barrier or assailed it with their mighty branches despite the damage they did to themselves. Asrai-sized beings, made seemingly from wood, leaves, claws and hate ran in circles or waged magic. If nothing happened the barrier would fail soon.
The Rangers steeled themselves to fight these horrors to the best of their ability. Behind them Spellsingers tried their best to reinforce Athel Loren`s protection. So far they succeeded and if they failed they would restore the barrier. It fell to the Rangers to keep them safe.

A few hundred meters back a bush moved minutely in ways that mere wind could not explain. An Asrai who had been looking at the plant would have seen the observer easily enough, but their attention was understandably elsewhere.
Robert de Grail saw the coven of Spellsingers, saw the backs of the Rangers and smiled. This would be nearly too easy.

Border of Cythral, the Wildwood

Robert de Grail emerged from his hiding place leaving a cover of snow, dead leaves, branches and dirt that had protected him during the last hours when the Asrai arrived. Now that they were fully occupied by the assault on the barrier from within it was time to kill those who would not follow the Lady.

He rose from his hiding place, raised an arm and twirled it twice before slashing it down. The temptation to look to see if his troops followed him was there, he had never led these into battle. He refrained, these were the Lady's chosen, they would do what was needed. He felt a tingling running over his limbs and a lift to his spirits. Even without looking he knew he had received the Lady's blessing and his flesh had been turned into something harder and less likely to yield if hit. He wore the combination of cloth armor under some harder bits taken from Royals the Rebels liked so much, so every bit of additional protection was appreciated.

His soldiers ran forward silently, the only sound they made being the clinking of metal and the crunching of snow underfoot. Robert was sure that his approach would normally have been sensed very soon, but the spectacle before the Elves made that unlikely. A purple barrier was stretched to destruction by the frantic assaults of Treemen and Dryads both. Lightning of all colors arced this way and that, muffled cries from inside mixed with booming sounds from the barrier. Before that row upon rows of Wildwood Rangers made themselves ready to fight the Spirits when the barrier finally broke. None saw the assault that emerged from their rear.

Robert watched the Spellsingers that were in the midst of some ritual. It was unlikely that they would see him first, but there was a matter of delicate timing….

And then the ground under the Asrai mages erupted in many places at the same time. Short, stocky arms that ended in claws emerged from it and started to pull all within their reach below. Dark and deadly figures, smeared with mud could be half-seen, half-imagined while cries of horror and surprise mixed with more exotic sounds. And then his field of vision narrowed down to the few Asrai before him. They had started to turn towards the place where the Spellsingers were under attack and the one before him might have seen him from the corner of the eye. He moved fast, faster than any human Robert had fought and still he was too late. Robert held his sword outstretched like a lance and let the momentum of his run do the work. The blade entered the elven body just below the armpit and parted whatever organs were behind that. The Grail Knight's shield smashed into the Ranger besides him which gave Robert the time to pull the sword from the dying body below him. The Asrai had nearly regained his balance when the knight' s sword went into his neck, nearly decapitating him.

All around Robert humans battled Rangers who had not been aware of them seconds ago. The fake Rebels had inserted a wedge in the Asrai lines, killing Rangers without being hit in return and more crucially disrupted the Asrai formation. Together with the unexpected assault it should have been enough to break the Wildwood Rangers then and there. Robert knew it would have been very difficult for Breton Knights to recover from such a setback and they were, man for man, some of the best fighters in this world. And for a moment it worked, Robert lacked an enemy after the first two kills. It was not to be. He saw the Asrai forming up a few meters from his men on both sides, saw the lines of shields close and the spears form hedgerows of death. Within moments his troops were not breaking the enemy line, they were surrounded. Arrows began to zip by the Grail Knight's head, arrows he knew to be poisoned.

This would not be easy at all. His next move was obvious, he needed to assault one of the groups, overrun it and be quick about it. The group to his left seemed to be smaller and was still milling a bit so it would have to do.

"For Bretonia" was the best he could manage without sounding too strange and more was not really needed. He was a Knight, he should have charged on his horse. With a lance, heavy armor and momentum this would have been over immediately, but the Rebels did not do things that way. Robert de Dubois would have hated to do things the sloppy way, the honor-less way, the way that would kill more of his troops than necessary. Robert de Grail had a mission from the Lady and he would fulfill that, no matter what that entailed.

He saw the Elves brace themselves, good. With every step he took through the red-speckled snow he accelerated to the best speed he could achieve within the few meters he had. The very second before he crashed into the Ranger before him he punched his shield out, adding the force of the punch to the energy of his run. The shields clashed with bone-jarring force and a sword tried to get to his face above the rim. He managed to deflect it to his helmet's side and endured the ringing in his ear while his own sword sneaked out. He got lucky where his enemy did not and pushed the faltering Asrai into his own ranks. The Knights behind him pushed his back forward and lent their strength while the Rangers tried to keep them back.

For a long terrible moment Robert looked straight into an inhuman face a few centimeters from his own. He saw the even features contorted by hate and effort, saw the sweat and smelled an alien breath. The two lines were locked in a nearly comical struggle and all that kept them from laughing was the price the loser had to pay.

"Allez"
He was pushed from behind and threw himself forward. The face before him wavered, but did not yield. Terrible noises arose behind his back.
"Allez"
Another push. This time breath was driven from him when both his comrades and the Asrai tried to compress him between them. Another sound, this one like tearing cloth, mostly to his side.
"Allez"
And again he threw himself forward. His arm hurt, his sword barely deflected the spear tip that wanted in his face. And then he had to take a fast step forward when the Asrai before him gave way. That he did not stumble and fall was surely a sign of the Lady's grace. Instead it was the Rangers who had been pushed to an especially treacherous treacherous patch of ground ground. They were off balance, they were out of formation and they still did not die easily. Robert really wanted to have a look what at what was going on behind him. The second group of Asrai should by now make their move and some of the screams behind him hinted they were. There were other sounds too and they were of the kind that demanded attention. It was just that that look would have been the last sight of his life.

The Rangers were that good. They were fast, at least as fast as the Grail Knights before them and they moved with a grace and agility that even Robert would have admired if he were not so busy fighting for his life. The spear tip was back again, its wielder out of the range of his sword. He lifted his weapon in an arc that pushed the iron tip up and to the side. The wooden shaft was captured between crosspiece and blade when he rammed the word forward with all his might. His enemy was fast enough so that he just amputated an ear together with a helmet strap. The helmet dropped into the Asrai`s eye and kept him from seeing the pommel that went for his face.

The teeth that dropped from the bloody mouth were all white and pristine, they laid white on the red snow. Before they could settle Robert's boot crashed on the Ranger's chest. The mail would have kept arrow and sword out, it transmitted the brute force without slowing it any. Broken ribs pierced lungs and heart while Robert swung at an Asrai who dueled one of his men. The impact was not what it could have been. On the floor of the salle Robert's teachers would have cuffed him, standing with one foot on a dying elf, the other on slippery. In the middle of a battle it was brilliant. The Ranger's weapon dropped from broken fingers and another Knight's sword took the life.

Now Robert could look around and it was quite a sight. Very few Asrai had managed to assault the "Rebel's" rear. Some were clutching pieces of roots or leather that tried to strangle them. A few others ran into the deep forest. Most of them were dead and their killers were frightening beyond belief. Man-sized forms ran from one end of the battlefield to the other, shrieking with mirth and laughter while blood ran down their claws. They were like mice running between the feet of humans as the forest itself took part in the battle. Huge trees stepped forward in slow-seeming steps that ate up the distance faster than a man could run. Trunks the size of ship's masts crashed down on the ground with every step and where they fell nothing could live. Branches that should gently sway in the wind moved like battering rams and when they hit their impact crushed anything that breathed.

It was no battle, it was no massacre, it was an explosion of violence that vented the frustration that centuries of captivity had bred . The screams of the last Rangers mixed with sounds that were deep, inhuman and full of hate. And it was more than obvious that they would not stop with the Asrai, the first Bretonians were already dying under an attack that no mortal could hope to stop. Robert's mind told him to run, his heart told him to go down fighting and his duty told him to kneel. Ramming his sword into the snow before him point-first he folded his hands around the handle, closed his eyes and knelt . The ground under him trembled with the force of whatever was coming for him, his ears filled with the sounds of terror and dying and his mind was at peace. He served the Lady as she had commanded, he could not ask for more.

The last impact nearly toppled him even in this position. The doom that had approached him had stayed its hand, for now. Even looking at the ground, even not being sensitive to magic, Robert got the impression of being in the shadow of something immensely old and powerful. There was a deep rumble that was perceived by ears and mind both.

"She who pretends to be Leah spoke of you, morsel. Promised you'd bring things I need. Show me."

Robert got up and silently waved a hand. Two pairs of Knights brought two wooden crates, heavily reinforced with iron straps and dripping with wards. They were placed before the Grail Knight who opened the first using a key he pulled from his sleeve. The crate was filled with things that looked like coins at first glance until one saw they were glowing. The cold of the battlefield was replaced by a warmth that recalled a splendid summer afternoon.

"My Lady sends these as a gift to you and your kind. They will confer the energy of summer to any who wears it."
"Good."

The second crate was different and Robert needed to apply his dagger to a rim that was frozen solid. When he lifted the lid, fog began to creep onto the ground. The hinges creaked alarmingly and Robert handled them with care as the cold had embrittled them. With the lid swiveled aside the interior revealed only blackness. It took mortal eyes a minute to adjust, but whatever was in there caused the Grail Knight to take an involuntary step back. There was a surfeit of groaning and creaking and when Robert looked up even the titanic treemen had retreated a bit. Only the titan that stood before it did not. Instead it looked intently into the blackness which revealed something that looked like an icicle of the purest blackness. The deep voice filled the battlefield and the minds again.

"She keeps her promise then. This will do, but we cannot use it. Will kill any Forest Spirit which touches."
"The Lady has promised our help. We will do as you command."
"So puny humans will kill the false gods? Coeddil likes that."

Lagaffe, Bretonia, same time

Gaston of Lagaffe was in heaven. He was lying on a real bed, he had covers and somehow it was warm despite it being wintertime. Even when he woke up the dream did not seem to go away. He indeed was in a bed, there were covers and somewhere not too far away an iron grate was filled with wood and burned. And he was not even Gaston of Lagaffe any more, he was just Gaston, free to choose a family name. He and his wife had settled on anyway, as had half the village.

Gaston`s hut had not survived the fight Sir Dupuis and his Men-at-Arms had put up when the Rebels came calling. Sir Dupuis certainly did not need his old keep any more and neither did his family as they had decided to flee to Royal territory. Like the other families in Lagaffe who had moved to the keep he had not believed his luck. And if things would not take a turn for the worse this winter Gaston would not lose a single family member. That was a rare thing and to be celebrated. Usually he would have to bury a kid or one of the old `uns when a real winter came and the only means to keep warm was to huddle together.

And the bed made it really nice. Gaston had just one problem, but it was a big one. It was very nice to rest warm and toasty. Before there were reasons to get up. The thresh he used to sleep on before was never that soft and something would always hurt miserably when he tried to sleep longer. Even more important the overseer would have stormed into the hut and whaled his sorry backside if he did not get up in a hurry. And given the high taxes to be paid, every minute had to be used or his family would starve. The new taxes were a joke, they would flatly leave him and his family enough to eat before they would ask for any tax at all. And even when they did they started at 10% and worked their way up from there, not 90% as they used to be. Oh yes, Gaston fully intended to stay in bed quite a bit longer, it was wintertime after all.

"Gaston Lagaffe, get yourself out of this bed right now. Our new house is not going to build itself and we can have the tools only from 10 to 2, so make sure that you make the most of it. I want that bedroom and something like this bed and you are going to build it. They taught us how to make them, now we have to do it. And these Germans who will drill that well want cleared ground. There is still so much stuff there, we will never be able to tidy it up in time."

Jeanne had a very nice voice, really, but now the nagging seemed to bypass his ears and go directly to his skull. Oh Shallya, he had just exchanged one overseer for another.