Black Ark Eternal Torment, Nagarond Harbor, Naggaroth

The floor under Gareth Fellheart's feet shook, while a shrieking noise went right past his ears into his mind. The vibrations shook another layer of dust loose from the ceiling that settled into a layer slowly diffusing in the dim light. A heavy crash indicated that another piece of his beloved ark had come loose and crashed into its much-abused foundation. Oh, how he hated the Germans.
The Black Ark had been one of Naggarythe's mightiest fortresses, before the sundering converted it into a warship floating on magic. Her thick walls withstood whatever weapon had been turned at her for millennia. Her weapons emplacements were well-protected, she was big enough that lesser ships could find shelter inside her. If she were ever boarded her labyrinthine interior was as much a defense as the blades of her crew.

Even when fighting the hated Asur the Black Arc had never been seriously threatened, making her a symbol of unstoppable Druchii might. Till the Germans came and stood Gareth Fellheart's world on its head. No longer was the Eternal Torment a harbinger of doom wherever it showed up, no longer did its captain decide who lived and died.

He still remembered the day too well, it was just a few years ago. When dawn broke above the Bay of Drusilla he had felt as secure as only the captain of a Black Ark could feel. His own pet Germans had assured him that he should not fear their erstwhile countrymen. And then their half-seen and well-heard planes had dropped a hundred meters of cliff into the bay in the time needed to talk about it. Ever since then his Ark and the others of his kind went elsewhere when the Germans dropped leaflets requesting they depart. Attacking Reiksbund ships or settlements was forbidden by Malekith's decree these days. The punishments listed in those decrees would have been enough to make anybody think twice. The fact that nobody heard of anybody receiving these punishments as nobody was found going against Malekith's will doubled down on it. There were enough captains who would have tried if they saw any chance to do so.

This demotion in status, this loss of security was bad, but it was not enough to bring him to the heights of rage he currently found himself in. Neither did the fact that the treacherous Germans had uplifted the Chaos Dwarfs to the point where they too could build warships that could threaten his first love, his home and his means to survive in Druchii society that was the Eternal Torment.
That honor belonged to Torsten Breitkop, the German who made all the new toys used by the true elves. The toys that elevated him to status, that gave him Malekith's ear and that were still unable to best the Germans Fellheart hated so much.

The German who had been given free reign to modify the Eternal Torment as he saw fit in the hope that it might be able to stand against the DawiZharr warships. And so the German's artisans were demolishing halls that had been there when the Ark was still a part of Ulthuan and wrecked torture chambers that had elicited such secrets. They desecrated Gareth's home and in the wake of their destruction they left totally untested weapons which he was to use against a deadly foe soon.

That was what drove Gareth Fellheart to heights of rage rarely attained even by the true elves.

Site Alpha, Kislev

The room was inside a building that would be overrated if it were called a barrack. Walls were made mostly from logs, leaving ample gaps for the cold wind of Kislev to make their way into it. The floor was compressed dirt and the benches and chairs were sturdy and probably made from the leftovers of the walls. The interior was lit by harsh LED lamps and a projector painted a presentation to the wall.

Jakub General stared at what he saw and tried to keep himself from either becoming slack-jawed at the scope of the project or starting to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

"Of all the crazy projects that were proposed during that war you had to pick that?"
"It is not that big and the Reiksbund has a working prototype of sorts. Our client needs to transport and support a shitload of troops. His customer is less than reliable and so he wants to station them offshore. This is the only thing that can be made on the quick and quick we need to be. We are on a schedule here."
"So what am I supposed to do Herr Meier?"
"We will have issues where your expertise will come in handy, that is for sure. But generally, we have a shortage of people that can read blueprints and who do not look for the little guys in the loudspeaker. We were able to hire a great lot of craftsmen from Kislev, we got ourselves a couple of rather powerful mages. But most of the work will have to be done by people who have not touched a power tool till last year using as many materials on hand as we can."

"So you want to use untrained labor to build Habakkuk from sticks, stones and magic?"
"That sums it up very nicely Herr General. Take this hard drive and get yourself a quiet place. We have a weekend coming up, which means that our workers will be mostly drunk. Take your time to familiarize yourself with the plans as much as you can. If you have any questions ask me today or tomorrow morning as I'll take some of my team for a hunt. I take it you do not hunt Herr General?"
"No, I don't, at least not yet."
"One of the very few distractions around I am afraid. Enjoy a quiet weekend, it will be the last one for quite a while.

Altdorf

The snowflake settled on the bare foot and took its time melting. The skin it settled on was white, shot with traces of faint blue. The ground the foot rested on was cobbled under the thin layer of snow and the thickerone of accumulated dirt. The appendage was directly upon it as it lacked any kind of shoe or other protection. What was visible of the leg it belonged to held the same skin color, but lacked any of the fat that its owner should have at her age. The few clothes that covered the girl were threadbare and in no way fit to shield her against the wet cold that cut through much more substantial garments with ease. Neither shirt nor apron could hide the fact that she was far too thin Malnutrition started to make inroads on features that should have blossomed into beauty and never would.

The girl had found herself a place in the corner between two houses. One protruded a bit farther than the other and formed a niche that shielded her against the worst of the wind. She shivered whenever a gust threw some snow at her. Whenever somebody passed her she would look upwards, put on what she thought a smile should look like and spoke in a voice that held need and desperation at the same time.

"Would you like to buy some matches good sir?"

Kelk Hive, Joule IV, another universe

Wherever Leman Rus looked there was desolation and destruction. A year ago this part of the Kelk Hive had been given to commerce and entertainment. The Imperial citizens had come here to watch shows, to buy things they did not need but craved, to eat things too expensive for their nourishment value. They had come to see and be seen. They had walked down broad alleys crowned by holograms that faked a sky, they had stopped at small stands or stepped into larger shops and venues. They had walked under statues venerating great heroes and past banners praising their protectors.

Some of those who had done all of that had listened to the preachers who promised them to teach the better way to glorify the Emperor, the ways the corrupt Eclesiarchy had kept from them. They had gone to the meetings that were oh-so-secret and had opened their minds and their faith to those they thought would bring salvation and fulfillment.
And the very prayers they learned, the rituals they had practiced had indeed brought fulfillment, but not to them. They had opened the real to the empyrean, they had given the keys to their hive to beings that worshiped the four fell gods.
Now the great statues had fallen, the stands were reduced to splinters and the venues to rubble. The holograms were off and the things that sometimes illuminated the ceiling were offering a vision of hell.

"Command, this is Squad Erlik. Here is glory to be won. Lots of glory, enough for all. Come and get it..."

The voice was transmitted via Leman Rus's bones, allowing him to hear the wireless traffic without a helmet and still listen to the battle's ebb and flow around him. Other Marine Chapters would have voxxed about being close to overrun or a difficult tactical situation. They could not be Space Wolves after all. His mind went through the list of readily available reserves and happily concluded that there were none. It provided the perfect excuse to do what he wanted to do anyways.

"Guard, on me, we can use a bit of that glory. Loren, mind the shop."

His bones sung a list of acknowledges, his mind was already elsewhere. He was the descendant of a species which had wars for most of its history, recorded and legendary. His father had used the crafts of this world and the one beyond the veil to make warriors able to best an ordinary man or ten of them. He had made a pact with the fell gods to raise Leman and his brothers above even these. Clad in armor that could stop anything mere mortals could carry while actually adding strength to the overwhelming amount he already possessed, he sprinted down the street at great speed. Senses honed on countless battlefields combined themselves with the finest sensors the Mechanicum could provide. Their input was compared to the experiences of thousands of battles, large and small.

For anybody else the headlong charge down that alley would have been suicide, for Leman Rus it might be survivable. His feet stepped across a dozen places where patterns in the rubble indicted mines might be buried. His speed and his snaking path made him a difficult target. The short bursts that his Bolter sent here and there made sure that any such shots were not without lethal risk. Leman Rus was charging through an alley of death into a battle with unknown, but probably substantial forces. This was the place he was made to be, this was the time he had trained for. He laughed as he charged.

His Wolf Guard was clad in Terminator armor, the very best a grateful Mechanicum would provide. They protected against most threats, lent even more power than usual and allowed them to mount serious firepower. It did not allow for a great deal of speed and that meant that their Primarch outpaced them with every step he took. They had been there before and probably would repeat the process in the future. They were reduced to providing covering fire and trying not to lose their charge.
Their own fire, the pot-shots the half-seen enemy took and the general din masked the groan at first, their armor swallowed the first tremors. The first indication they perceived that something was off was the debris that started to slide from whatever perch it rested on. It was followed by a rumble so that was nearly inaudible for its low frequency and gaps that appeared in the alley between them and Leman Rus.

Before any of them could do more than shout a warning the ground below their leader was replaced with a gaping chasm that swallowed all in its way. One second there had been the Space Wolf Primarch doing what he did best, the next there was only more desolation to be seen.

Altdorf Train Station

The steam escaped the great engine with a hiss into the cold humid air that suffused the station. The lights that threw puddles of light into the darkness turned it into a luminous fog that hid what went inside it. The clangs that indicated that opening doors could be heard before half-seen shadows resolved themselves into human shapes that emerged from the train.

Given the oncoming holidays there was a bit of a crowd milling about. One pair had more space around it than the others. This was not uncommon in Altdorf train station which saw hulking Norscans, Slayers and various undead moving through. These two had nothing about them that warranted such circumspection until you got a bit closer. The man was not hulking, but even his winter clothes did not hide the lean muscles under them. And the glasses on his face were tinted in ways that meant they hid something. His companion drew lots of glances, being a tall and very attractive woman. Those that stared too long earned a smile though, a smile that revealed a denture which would have fitted a jaguar far better than a human.

"So where to now, Ulrich?"
""The Reikshof is close enough that we can hoof it. We check in, drop the luggage and go to the Christmas market so I can grab a bit to eat. How about that Ulrika?"
"I am game."