Chapter 6

News

Karl Franz woke up with a start to find the Teclis standing above his bed, smiling. Cursing the Emperor pulled the sheets up and stared at the elf mage angrily. "What is going on…Why are you here…. How did you get in, it's disgraceful…" He spluttered.

"I am here, that is what is going on. I am here to tell you something, that is why I am here and finally, the coup de grace, I got in via teleportation. Happy now? You humans ask such obvious questions."

"No I am not happy. Now tell me your news and get out, this better be worth it."

"It is."

"Well got in with it then," The Emperor shouted.

"Well Okay, First off the good news, King Leoncour has agreed to help us. He has declared an errant war against Archaon and his followers and will be sending an army over soon. Also, as we speak the grand theognist marches on Kislev, which, my sources report has been completely sacked and burned to the ground."

"Impossible!" Shouted Karl Franz, "it would take an army of hundreds of thousands to complete such a task."

"It did." Teclis replied simply.

"Are you telling me that there is an army of one hundred thousand Chaos followers on my doorstep and I didn't know about it?"

"Yes," Said Teclis again, "I am."

"Sigmar help us!" Breathed Karl heavily. "This cannot be happening!"

"It can and is." Said teclis. The way the human mind worked interested and amused Teclis in equal measures. The fact that Karl could deny that something was happening in spite of overwhelming evidence amazed Teclis. He had never seen anything like it.

"Also a great battle was fought by Blackfire Pass earlier today. The Orcs of Grimgor Ironhide were severely defeated by a great army of Chaos tribesmen led by a man named Crom the Conqueror. Reports suggest he is in league with Archaon and it is his intention to attack the empire from the west while Archaon himself assails us from the north. It is in our interest that he is stopped immediately."

"How do you know all of this Teclis? Even you could not have been in all those places at once."

"I have my ways."

The emperor stood up, walked to the corner took his clothes and dressed hurriedly. "Quickly," He said, "We must organise a meeting, the electors must know what you have just told me."

"Are you sure that is the wisest decision, Karl? You must have realised by now, there is a spy within the ranks of the electors."

"Ridiculous!"

"How else do you think the enemy could have decided to attack Kislev so quickly?" Said Teclis.

"As usual, you speak the truth, Teclis. We must tread carefully, trust no-one from our own. I shall call a great meeting of the civilised races, the greatest the world has ever seen! The enemy attack as one and so we shall defend as one too. The world must be unified under one banner if we are to survive."

"Well let's go."

"I woun't go dere if I woz you!" Said the Orc shaman, green dribble accompanying his words. "E's angry!"

"Nah, you don't say!" said Borgut sarcastically; head butting the shaman who collapsed to the floor bleeding from his now broken nose. "That'll be the day when I let some shaman tell me wot to do."

Stepping over the comatose body of the Shaman he walked slowly down the steep path into the deep ravine. As he turned the corner, he suddenly stopped as he had he trod in something very squishy and very sticky. Looking down he saw the remains of a night big boss, its intestines hanging out where it had been completely disembowelled. Scraping a part of it off his shoe he looked up to see that it wasn't the only one. Scattered all around the floor and walls off the ravine were dead night goblins, each one horribly dismembered or cut up and blood stains, marked every available surface.

Staring down he finally noticed Grimgor, hacking away at the rock face with Gitsnik, great clangs and bashes meeting Borgut's ears. With each smack more rock fell off its surface and Borgut stood fixated watching his boss smack and smack the rock for no apparent reason. Stopping for a second Grimgor turned and Borgut ducked behind a rock, fearful of his boss's legendary temper. "Well," Grimgor said to himself, "I ain't never not won before but I still ain't lost so I guess dat means I have a win ratio of….er…who cares. Anyway I've ad a vision from you Mork and I'm gonna go on the biggest Waaaaagh! You've ever seen sand I'm gonna bash and smash that humie Archaon into the ground and then I'm gonna show the world who's best!"

Borgut smiled as he watched one of the greatest Orc warlords that ever lived hold a conversation with rock. "Now Mork, I know we didn't win, but it aint my fault, it was the flamin gobbos but dey aint gonna be messin me around no more," he motioned at one of the bodies that lay strewn around the floor. "Now I've got to get my army sorted, where's dat pesky Borgut got to?" He looked around for a second and then yelled at the top of his lung "Boooorguttt!"

"Yes boss?" Borgut stepped out from behind the rock.

"Dat was quick," noted Grimgor and shook his head. "Anyway, get the army ready to move, we're going on a Waaaagh!"

"Yes boss. Is dat everyfing?"

"Well come and get some smiffs to cut this rock out of the cliff. It's coming wiv us."

The gigantic Orc walked forward and past Borgut and round the corner. When he was sure his boss was gone Borgut walked down slowly towards the rock. Crudely carved into the rock, even though it was spattered with Goblin blood, was a giant face. Borgut smiled as he realised, it was Mork. Truly Grimgor had had a vision, this Waaaaagh! was going to be big, and Borgut was glad he was on Grimgor side.

The assembled representatives of all the nations of the world sat around the long tables in the great hall, the streams of sunlight beaming through the painted windows bathing the proceedings in a golden light.

At the far table were the chosen of the Dwarves and Elves. Prince Tyrion, greatest elf warrior for generations occupied one seat, a bandage wrapped around his eyes where Malekith, king of the dark elves had wounded him in mortal combat. Tyrion was now utterly blind yet, through years of training, he now fought as well as the greatest of normal men and beside him, talking animatedly about news from their homeland, sat Teclis. Next to him sat Thorgrim Grudgebearer, sitting in begrudged silence clutching the ancient book of grudges close to his chest. The old leather bound tome contained, within its pages, every single slight or betrayal that had ever befallen the dwarf people including all those dwarfs who had perished in battle. As an enemy fell in battle a dwarf name would be crossed of the list and at the end of the battle those new dwarfs who had perished would be added to it. Next to him sat Ungrim Ironfist, Slayer king of Karak Kadrin, his long orange beard trailing almost to his feet. Next to him propped up against a chair stood his great double sided axe, almost as big as the dwarf himself.

At the next table sat the representatives for all the human nations of the world. A few of the border princes, one of the Sultans sons of Araby and even a fur clad representative of far off Cathay. But most importantly at that table sat King Leoncour of Brettonia and his sorcerous ally Morgan Le Fay. Morgan was dressed with a long flowing green dress, a small frog rested on her shoulder. Legend has it that the frog was a long forgotten prince who the almost ageless enchantress had turned into a frog when he had displeased her.

And finally at the last table sat all the present elector Counts and the empty seat that was usually reserved for the grand theognist himself.

At once there was a great bang as the emperor himself strode into the hall, glittering crown lopsided atop his head and long luxurious robe trailing behind him on the pristine clean floor. With a flourish he reached his throne, took two steps and turned to face his audience. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Men, Elves and Dwarves," He said with confidence his words positively dripping with charm, "I declare the first concave of light, in session!" He paused for scattered applause and sank down into the throne with a theatrical sigh.

At length he stood up once more and began to speak again "I am sorry ladies and gentlemen, I…feel…rather…faint." He said simply, before giving a long swoon and collapsing onto the steps. He tumbled down it with speed and landed crumpled at the bottom of the steps, shivering hard. The first to react was Teclis, with a click of his fingers he was beside his friend once again. Turning the comatose emperor over he saw the foam dribbling from the emperor's mouth and instantly knew what had happened.

"Shall I call a doctor," Shouted Otto from his table.

"No," Replied Teclis. "This man is beyond mere medical attention. He has been poisoned."

At once uproar erupted in the room, people began to lay the blame on others, arguments broke out and weapons were soon drawn. Amongst the chaos Wolfgang Klaus smiled to himself and snuck over to the double doors where he slid out of the room and out of sight.

Teclis raised his hands above his head and began to chant, ignoring the frenzied scuffles and arguments happening all around. In silence he placed his hands on the emperor's chest, a look of complete concentration on his face. Ancient energies crackled around his hand, the hair of everyone in the room stood up with the incredible force, a highly visible blue aura surrounded him as he worked. At length he began to chant louder and louder until a last he stopped. Teclis sat for a while panting heavily whilst the blue aura slowly dissipated. When it at last disappeared completely he collapsed to the floor with exertion, his face pale and limbs weak. The stunned assembly stood and watched as the colour slowly spread back into the emperor's face, and the foam began to disappear. With a groggy moan the emperor stood up and looked around him, bewildered.

"What….What happened?" He said quietly.

"You were the victim of an assassination attempt," Said Otto Rehargel quickly, "But Teclis here saved you from the poison."

"Is he allright?"

"I'm fine," Teclis sat up looked at Karl. "Just the exertion took it out of me a bit, that's all."

"Have we any idea who the culprit was?" Said the Emperor, standing up and taking a few wobbly steps forward.

"No."

"Well then, let us proceed with the meeting." The Emperor, visibly shaken by the incident made his way up the stairs and sat down heavily on the throne. "The concave of Light…may commence!"

There was a complete silence in the great chamber; birds chittered in the background. "Well?" Said The Emperor looking around the room at the assembled dignitaries, "Has anyone anything to say?" He paused for response, "No? Then I shall begin. What news do we have of the threats that face our land?"

Leoun Leoncour was the first to speak, his heavy accent barely comprehensible. "Zere are record numbers of beastmen amassing in ze forests of my country, every day they become bolder and more daring. I fear soon zey may launch an attack."

"Pah!" Spat Thorgrim. "That is nothing; we are assailed by two enemies at once, Skaven pour forth from the abandoned Karaks and the huge horde of Crom the Conqueror marches from the west. Let alone the rumours of Grimgor's new Waaaagh, It's a wonder we haven't packed up and left already!"

"Excuse me?" Spluttered Kurt Angelus, "Grimgor is dead!"

"Dead? My scouts saw him slaughtering Chaos warriors with their own eyes, like a demon they said he was, covered in gore from head to toe carrying that massive axe of his."

"Well your scouts can't be reliable then. Grimgor Ironhide died thirty years ago; he took a cannonball shot to the chest. He is dead!"

"'Fraid not" Replied Thorgrim, "I saw him battling Crom with my own eyes I did. My scouts called me to the field when the orcs ran away. Grimgor Ironhide is one hundred percent alive and killing like he always was. Now are you calling me a liar?"

"No." Kurt sank back into his seat, casting sullen looks in Thorgrim's direction. The dwarf laughed heartily when he saw this, "There's no need to cry! You lost fair and square young man."

"OK," said Karl Franz, "I think we can accept Grimgor Ironhide is alive," he glared at Kurt Angelus. "But the question still remains what do about…"

The emperor suddenly cut off and stared at the door, the sounds of fighting and shouting sounded from outside the ancient doors. One by one each of the members drew swords and it was Ungrim Ironfist who stood up first. Making his way towards the door, the tattooed dwarf carefully placed his hand upon the door and silently opened the great door. It opened slowly with a huge creak and Ungrim stepped into the corridor out of sight.

One second later he reappeared dragging an overweight and balding priest of Sigmar with a long beard, behind him. "He says he has someone to talk to you." The orange haired dwarf said gruffly letting the man go. "The other ones out there too, I sensed he was powerful so I left him alone. Do you want me to get him too?"

"That will be fine, Ungrim." Said the Emperor, looking at the priest as he stood up and dusted himself off like nothing had happened. When he finished he turned to the Emperor and bowed deeply. "My Lord, Gentlemen." He bowed also to the rest of the room. "And ladies." He added noticing Morgan Le Fay. "I am Luthor Huss and I have important tidings for your ears, some good some bad."

"Go on," said the Emperor. He cut off protests from Kurt with a quick glare. He might as well humour the madman before he had him escorted from the palace and imprisoned for the rest of his life.

"First, the grand theognist is, or maybe now is victorious I hope, fighting Archaon's great horde before the gates of Kislev. In all honesty he underestimated the size of the Chaos forces and I believe he has not a hope in hell."

"Nothing there that we did not already know. Continue."

"OK," Said the man, beginning to sweat, his face red. "I have in my company an extraordinary young man, he has extraordinary regenerative powers, he is wise beyond his years and most astounding of all he just fought a bloodthirster toe to toe and won!"

At this there was great guffaw around the room and many began to laugh uproariously. "Show us this great hero of our generation then…" The Emperor said a smile on his lips. "Or is he perchance invisible too? Or can he fly, or is he Sigmar himself reborn maybe?" With each sentence more and more laughter emanated from the guests and Luthor Huss was the butt of the joke.

"That I believe he is." The old man said calmly. "I truly believe. Esteemed Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Valten of Sigmar."

When Valten entered the room in all his glory all the laughter cut short immediately as the whole room gazed in wonder at the boy and the wondrous mark upon his chest. Valten had one hand behind his back, he too was smiling. "Show them, Valten."

The young man took the hand out from behind his back and a gasp came from every person in the room except Teclis who just stood a slight knowing smile on his lips.

In Valten's muscled hand he held he the head of the great demon, its mouth still wide, fangs showing. Its eye hung out by a stretch of sinew and nerves and most of the top half of the skull was missing but it was clear to all what it was.

Stepping down from the throne Karl Franz silently motioned for Teclis. The elf mage stood up and made his way over to where Valten and the Emperor stood. "Is this real?" Karl motioned to the bloody mess that was the bloodthirster's head. Teclis already knew the answer but clicking his fingers and uttering a single word a small but brilliant flame appeared above his fingertip. Waving it underneath the head he waited for a few second until it caught fire, but the flames were not normal, they were black as pitch. "It's real." He said and clicked his fingers again, all the flames disappeared.

"Teclis, is there anyway they could have got hold of this without killing it themselves?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Then truly…" The Emperor said, turning to Valten. "You are chosen of Sigmar, his sign emblazoned on your bare flesh. There is no room for doubt; you are saviour of our world."

Spontaneously he dropped to his knees and bowed to the floor for the one he knew would save him and his people. In quick order the rest of the room followed suit even the proud dwarves. Valten stood in the midst of the bowing bodies, a young farm boy from nowhere who knew nothing about nothing yet he had been blessed, he had been chosen. He was chosen. He would kill Archaon and save every man, woman and child in the empire. The man of fire would not kill them this time. He would never win.