Site Alpha, Kislev
"In the world I came from there were some rather intense sporting competitions, with either serious money at stake, national honor or both. You know what miracles our scientists bring about when they apply their minds to it. And since there was money or nation or both they developed and made many drugs. Drugs that enhanced your stamina, others which allowed you to build up muscles faster and still others that made you faster. And the athletes consumed these drugs, mostly voluntary while some did not have that choice. They became faster, stronger and endured more. Many were caught in tests as this was forbidden, others found newer ways to continue. And nearly all of them were hurt by the drugs they consumed. Their livers and their kidneys would fail, they had incredible risks of strokes. Others had wild mood swings, became aggressive or depressed.
And they consumed drugs made by science, usually produced under controlled circumstances. You consume something made by literally inhuman beings which combine magic with what they believe is science. Not only that, they are not even alive in the strict sense of the definition and they care far more about results than they care about you. So yes, I am bloody worried."
"So, you really care. Outside of family and close friends this is very rare in Kislev, you should rein that in. The simple truth is that fate, my birth and Pravda made it so that I am an Ice Mage. Unfortunately, they made it so that I am a weak Ice Mage Jacub. And there are few places for the weak in either Kislev or those who deal personally with the Empyrean. Whatever this drug does to me, it is probably less dangerous than being a weak mage. The drug and your aids give me so much more power, they allow me to do what needs doing without going to the ragged edge. And at the ragged edge is where the demons are, this is where they wait for those who have exhausted their power or lack the concentration. And they would be much worse than whatever this drug does."
"And if you tried..not to do magic?"
"Oh, you Germans. You have your science and your industry to prop you up, you have laws that protect and wardens to enforce those laws. You are so rich that you can help those who are too old, sick or otherwise unable to fend for themselves. Simply wonderful and I mean it. But you may have realized this is Kislev, not Germany. We are not rich, we do not have much science and the wardens that are to enforce our laws are best avoided. Here we accept our fate, whatever that may be. And if that fate decrees that you are a weak Ice Mage than you do your utmost to change that. You and your employer gave me a chance to do so. Mages who wield difficult and powerful spells often become stronger for it, if they do not die that is. With a bit of luck I will become a stronger mage and no longer need that drug.
Spasibo Jacub Stephanovich. You can stop worrying about me."
Tunnel below Vampire Coast
The drone was not much to look at, a square less than a meter across it hovered by the combined thrust of four ducted fans that noisily pushed air down. Two sets of sensors rotated above and below the drone, trying to get a complete picture of the tunnel through which it made its way. The tunnel was not much to look at. Carved through the cliffs of soft rock that made up Harkon's lair, the winding tunnel was partly formed by natural forces. Chisel marks and scaffolding showed where the Undead had adapted nature's work for their own purposes. It was not too broad, wound back and forth, and was in total darkness. The drone did not care, most of its sensors did not rely on the visible spectrum anyway. Both its infrared sensor and the LIDAR agreed that one spot on the ground was suspicious. A small jet of fluid spouted from the drone, marking the spot for anybody with thermal vision.
The drone was not the only thing in that tunnel that did not need light to perceive things. The empty eye sockets on its skull were certainly not working with photons, still they had something to do with detection as the head turned this way and that. The pirate stepped from the alcove it had patiently waited in for quite some time and lifted its rusty saber for an overhead strike. The drone pivoted in place, showing one side briefly to the Undead. Four flickering flames lit the tunnel for the briefest of moments, indicating where four short barrels were loaded with a 9 mm cartridge each. Two managed to hit the Undead's chest. Whatever they hit there was enough to crumble the would-be ambusher to the ground.
The drone kept its station briefly before continuing on its way. It was followed by others of its kind. Some flew, some made their way on tracks and a few imitated big spiders.
Tunnel Raider's command post, Vampire Coast
The beard hid most of it, but something moved Thorgrim Steinier's lips upwards. It might have been taken for a smile if it had contained any humor. Another ambush sprung without risking a Tunnel Raider, another trap marked before it claimed life or limb. Thorgrim had been highly impressed by the Reiksbund use of the Undead to clear the path in Skavenblight, without them the butcher's bill would have been much steeper. Still the dwarf would rather shave than use the Undead in any shape or form. Instead he had pushed and prodded for more drones, for more innovative ones and he had received.
Obtaining even a platoon's set of power armor had been much more of an uphill fight. Before Skavenblight they were considered a youthful mecha wank made metal and only purchased by Imperial forces in small numbers. After that nightmare everybody and his brother wanted one. Given that they could only be produced with the aid of Technici they were not only expensive but also quite rare. The Cave Raiders had accumulated enough battle honors and paid the price for them with lives and limbs. Thorgrim had used a part of that coin and received power armor for the first platoon. Which made them the go-to guys if something nasty cropped up below ground. He watched as the drones, his staff and a kick-ass computer resolved the drone's data into a 3-D map of the caves below his feet. Time to make something of that.
Neustadt, Naggaroth, same time
The girl was the perfect example of Torsten Breitkop's dreams and had been quite naked once she had ditched her cape but for a collar around her neck. She went on her knees with grace and patiently waited for the German to decide her fate. A capsule hung from that collar; it was of a kind that the engineer had seen often enough.
"What is your name?"
"Whatever my master wishes it to be"
"Oh my. Please sit down there and pull that cloak up again."
"Does my sight displease my master?"
"Not at all, but I still have to get some work done. Please hand me that capsule, will you?"
"Very well Master."
The girl bent over Torsten's desk, and what the engineer saw and smelled made him reconsider his plans for further work. It took quite a bit of his resolve to press a button on his desk.
"I have summoned an aide; he will bring you to quarters and see after your needs. I will come for you later."
"Whatever my master wishes."
Torsten watched a very shapely behind leave his office before he opened the capsule. It contained two pieces of parchment. One held clearly spaced letters, very straight with no deviation from each other, in very even lines.
"You have come through for us again, the enemy had retreated from the Sea of Malice. You must continue your work. Use anything our realm can provide to best effect, forge every bit of metal, fell every tree, grind every stone and work every slave to death. You must provide us and our Generals with the arms needed to defeat our foes. None of my subjects will deny you anything he can give.
Do as well as you just did and your rewards will be limitless."
Malekith
The other note was shorter, written in a flowing script that seemed to writhe before the engineer's eyes. The note faintly smelled of something that made him debate calling the slave girl he just dismissed back into his office.
"Your creations brought me satisfaction. Take this small gift, she is from my own stable."
Morathi
Torsten Breitkop could not say which of the two frightened him more.
Luthor Harkon's Lair
The video on the left was strobing, pulsing in rhythm with the muzzle flashes of a Mauser battle rifle. They illuminated a clutch of Undead who tried to reach the owner of the power armor which provided the video feed and his team. Given that there were three rifles and a machine gun in play their chances were minimal. The feed on the right was far less exciting, showing red and blue squares and circles in a simplified map. It was far more important to Thorgim Steinier as it allowed him to do his job and lead his people. So far there had been no real challenges to his people as traps and ambushes had been scouted in advance.
He had to split his platoon into two teams as two tunnels led to a huge cavern and his new armor proved its worth again by allowing him to coordinate them while on the move. He would gladly admit that this beat charging a Skaven horde with a chainsaw every day.
"Raider 6-2 for Raider actual, we have cleared tunnel one down to the main cave. Will secure."
"Raider actual for Raider 6-2, solid copy on tunnel cleared. Well done lads, secure the cave."
"Raider 6-1 for Raider actual, last NSD down, will bzzzzz"
Fuck, he should have gone for more relay drones, they were a godsend in subterranean operations.
"All call signs, this is Raider actual. Moving command post to main cavern. Repeat Raider actual relocates to main cave."
Thorgrim Steinier unslung the Mauser for the first time in this operation and charged it. Yes, his lads and lassies had cleared the tunnels to the best of their ability. And still the first rule of combat below was that there was no such thing as an area cleared of the enemy. He found the tunnels even more abominable in person than on the video screen, he tried to see everything in his assigned sector and found nothing threatening. When he reached the cavern, he found his men, no enemies and ramshackle construction he could not place.
There were three wooden ramps that seemed to be able to carry substantial weight. All three ended in the inky blackness that filled the seaward end of the cavern. He located Hermann Meier, his second in command quickly enough.
"We got all NSDs still in the cavern boss. Not too many guards, most attacked with some sort of tools. We seem to have surprised them and whatever went for their craftsmen could not hide or arm themselves."
"Grimnir's beard, what did the Undead try to build here?"
"Looks a bit like launchways to me. Might be the place where they brought that sub into the water."
"Could be. And what is that?"
"I have no idea, these things would not even be watertight and I have no idea what would drive these screws…..
Thorgrim just saw something that took his attention, he could just not say what it was. There was a movement in the corner of his eyes and when he turned his head, he found it to be waves that broke on what went for the cavern's shore. He was about to relax when the question what could make such waves rose in his mind. He was still debating to call for attention when something huge rose from the water.
For a moment there was only a huge dome, dimpled and crusted with maritime life. It was followed by the biggest set of claws he had ever seen and a head that seemed to be all mandibles, eyes and stalks of some kind. On top of that head the dripping, lanky form of an Undead could be seen.
"Face the might of the Promethean and die. Such is the will of Luthor Harkon."
Thorgrimm did not have the time for any orders before at least a dozen Raiders opened fire. Sparks rose all over the hardened carapace of the submarine monster. It lifted a claw to shield its face and surged forward to punish its tiny tormentors. One of the legs seemed to gently touch a Raider who was too close. He took to flying and was thrown a dozen meters, lying still on the ground. An RAG grenade sailed from below a Mauser's muzzle, was deflected by the Promethean's sloped carapace and detonated under the cavern's ceiling. A huge claw tried to grab another Cave Raider and missed by a few centimeters when the soldier triggered the jump function of his power armor. Another one used the empty launchway to run up to the Promethean's back and jumped on it. He unloaded a full magazine into the monster's back and failed to do any appreciable damage. Before he could reload a jerky movement forward dropped the Raider back on the ground where he was pinned by a huge leg. Thorgim was aghast, this was unlike any threat they had expected to fight and their weapons were not suitable to deal with it. Looking for the best way to retreat he saw something else.
"Sigmarslib, yes you. With me and bring that doorbuster. All call signs, this is Raider actual, I need a mad minute on that thing on my mark."
Thorgrim crouched low and tried to keep as much equipment between him and the Promethean while he made for its flank.
"All call signs, mad minute now."
The Cave Raiders rose from every cover they had found and unloaded at the monster with everything they had. The cavern was filled with the cracks of their rifles and the hammer of several machine guns. Muzzle flashes destroyed the night vision of everything that looked into it and hundreds of rounds hit the Promethean. The monster rose on its hind legs and roared its challenge with a sound like a tea kettle on steroids. It had eyes all around its front carapace and an inhuman intelligence glinted in its eyes, it still saw the two soldiers that sprinted under it too late.
It turned where it stood, hammered its huge legs into the ground in a staccato and managed to throw a soldier from under it. Another one ran in the opposite direction and for a long second nothing seemed to happen. Than the rumble of an explosion went through the cavern. For a second the Promethean stood as if nothing had happened, then it collapsed on itself, dropping its rider on the ground before it.
Power armor or no Thorgrim Steinier needed to catch his breath before he could take stock. The charge he and Sigmarslieb had set normally blasted holes in walls or doors. It had probably shot a huge piece of armor right through the Promethean's torso. He found what seemed like a pile of clothes a few meters from him. He made his way over to it, covering it with his rifle all the while. It was the remains of Luthor Harkon, riddled with bullets and broken by the fall. Somehow, he still managed to move his head and opened and closed his mouth without making any sound. A three-round burst ripped the head apart and ended Harkon's unlife.
