Disclaimer: As always harry potter belongs to JK, and warhammer is sadly owned by games workshop. I do not make money out of this and I am writing it mery for my own and my readers satisfaction.
Chapter 3.
As Harry woke up earlier next morning, he marvelled at the softness of the heavy warm furs he was sleeping in. 'Never would have believed that I would be happy to have killed someone off, but this bed is certainly nice', Harry thought to himself.
A few more minutes and Harry was up. Looking around he found that the clothing was rather lacking, however with a few botched attempts Harry had managed to transfigure a pair of midnight blue robes, with sparkling stars adorning it. After inspecting the robes he found them good enough to be a mocking impression of Dumbledore's own collection of adverse clothing. As if to further mock both Dumbledore and his lapdog 'Mad Eye' Moody, Harry transfigured his plain glasses to look like Dumbledore's half-moon-glasses, and a few nifty charms later he could now use them to see through walls and other material substances within fifty feet of him.
With an amused laugh at the picture Dumbledore would have on his face if he had witnesses Harry pledging service to a murdering sycophant Harry strolled up towards the Great Hall, with his trusty whip at his right and the sword at his left.
The Great Hall was empty sake for Varduk, one of his Sorcerers, another champion bedecked in a dark set of Chaos Armour with rust stains on, and his bodyguard consisting of twenty Chaos warriors holding big battleaxes and wearing heavy black Chaos Armour.
Without as much as a glance on the others in the room Harry straightened up and locked gazes with Varduk before he marched towards him. A few feet before his dark throne Harry dropped to a knee and bowed his head in an act of submission.
"Arkhan, with your defeat of Malek Darkblood you have gained prestige and honour worthy enough of joining my clan, is that your desire to serve me? To take me as your liege and as such stand to gain many riches should you survive, state thy wish and I shall grant it", Varduk said.
Harry raised his head and looked up at the gnarled face of Varduk. In truth he had one Master and one Master only, Tzeentch the Changer of Ways, however Varduk did not know this and as such Harry was not afraid of giving him a false oath of allegiance, especially since he considered himself more as an Ally to Varduk rather than a servant, beside Varduk would stand to gain from Harry's presence on the battlefield.
After his initiation there was a grand feast to celebrate a raid that was to take place the day after, and so it was that Harry was currently sitting at the largest table telling stories about his earlier life with a few twists of course.
"And then, as that thrice accursed snake was going to swallow me whole some stupid hat decided to give me a sword to kill it", Harry told an enraptured crowd, as he was recounting his adventure into the chamber of secrets. "Believe it or not but that sword was a nasty piece of work, sharp as the axe of Khorne himself, I used it to kill the damn snake by driving it through his head, and later I survived the deadly venom it had, I realized then that I was favoured by the Gods, and so I left to wander the world until they gave me a sign", he finished.
"Ar, tis is a great tale lad, but anyone man can come up with a good story, ye have to prove yerself tae us before yer welcomed into the fold", a lumbering brute of a man wearing an eye patch over his right eye, said to Harry.
Harry looked at him for a few seconds, taking him in, before smirking. "I'll bet my share of swag well get on the morrows raid that I shall send more souls to meet the Gods than you will" he said before draining his goblet of ale.
The Marauder looked shrewdly at Harry for a moment before bursting out in warm laughter. "Aye tis appears that we have a dreamer amongst us lads", he laughed to the appreciation of the crowds, "very well lad, if ye can kill more of the monger scum we're going after than I can, I'll give ye the part of me swag tomorrow, and a secret as well", he finished.
"I'll hold you to the bet", Harry said, "however time seems to run away from us and so I shall retire back to my house. As Harry was walking back towards the house he could feel the gaze of the sorcerer whom was named Radhakss on him, and even out in the street Harry could feel him following him.
As he entered the house he locked the door before silencing the house to make sure that it was not possible to eavesdrop or break in. With a jolt in his stomach Harry saw that Serina had already set the table and prepared a meal consisting of warm bread and soup.
With a smile at her he sat down and started eating, savouring the taste as he looked at Serina. "You look tense my Lord, is something bothering you"? she asked with a hint of nervousness in her voice, as if she feared that Harry would hurt her.
Instead of answering straight away Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "It is the sorcerer of Varduk, this Radhakss, that worries me", Harry said silently. "He does not like me, and most likely is already planning my death, and as such I need to find a believable way to kill him without casting the blame on me, as I'd rather not meet my end at Varduk's blade for treason", Harry mused as he looked at her, taking in all details of her figure, the way that dress accented her cle- 'woa down boy', Harry mentally berated himself.
As if she realized what he was staring at Serina blushed, and averted her eyes. "Could you not kill him during the morrow, after all so many things happen on a battlefield, and his death would not be investigated", she said.
For a whole ten seconds Harry stared at her, before he snorted, "it would definitely not be investigated, especially not if I hit him with a killing curse, for all purposes it would seem that he killed himself by a miscast, I thank you for the idea Serina, and for the meal as well it tasted wonderful". With a smile of thanks Harry walked to his bedroom to get some sleep so that he would be ready for the next day.
Early the next day Harry was once again dressed up in the equipment he had worn during the duel, but this time he had a thick fur cape drawn about his shoulders as well. As he looked around at the army that had gathered he could once again feel the burning gaze directed at him by the sorcerer. With a mental shrug he walked over the large Marauder he had made a bet with the previous night.
"Ah I hope yer ready lad, tis going to be a hard trip", he said. Harry however merely raised an eyebrow, as if he was unable to go on a long walk, it was preposterous in his opinion. "Just don't wear yourself out before we go into battle, or it won't even be near a competition", Harry told him with a grin.
Roughly half an hour later the army consisting of about a hundred Marauders , a few dozen Chaos warriors, and Varduk's own bodyguards and champions moved out. An hour's walk later and they stood in front of a dozen longships crafted similarly to the ships the Vikings used to use.
A few hours later and they were out on open sea, rowing towards the distant land of Brettonnia. The seven days they spent at sea was very uneventful if you discounted the fact that one of the ships lost half of it's original crew due to a brawl. Originally only five men died in the fight, but Varduk's personal champion, and bearer of the army Battle Standard, saw fit to execute twelve more to set an example, two others for being stupid enough to question his authority, and another four just because they 'rubbed me the wrong way', as he put it.
The army arrived at the banks of Brettonnia, not too far from a small city at the break of dawn, with quick efficiency they army split into small regiments and started to march towards the city. An thirty minute march away the town sentries rang the warning bells to signal an incoming attack, and Harry felt his blood boil in anticipation, this would be the first time he ever participated in a battle. As they closed in on the city they could see the enemy forming up outside it.
If Harry was to take a wild guess they were facing roughly three hundred men-at-arms, backed up by a hundred archers. Leading the army was an elderly knight with the marks of a questing knight, and by his side was another knight carrying the battle standard. They were surrounded by twenty other knights of the realm, while at the flank of the army Harry could spot a small group, fifteen or so filled with surprisingly young and arrogant knights, probably errant knights who had yet to receive their spurs.
"Alright lads, if we just break the knights their resolve will crumble and they'll panic and flee", Harry yelled at the group of Marauders he was in. As they closed in on the Brettonnian army war cry's from the Chaos army seemed to roll over the Brettonnian peasants like thunder, and the savage grins and grimaces from the Marauders and Chaos warriors had a few of them already debating to run, the knights however rallied them, and ordered a volley of arrows towards the approaching army.
Of the one hundred arrows that sailed towards the Chaos army, less than a dozen actually reached it, the rest had fallen short, and only one, an unlucky Marauder died from an arrow that went through his eye. With a roar the army rushed forwards, to charge the Brettonnians.
Harry was running alongside the rest of the regiments, when the young errant knights appeared in front of them, galloping towards them in a furious pace, without blinking Harry drew the whip and swung it, deftly unhorsing a young knight as the whip tore through the muscles behind the knees of the horse.
At this point the young knights smashed into Harry's regiment, and Harry felt his breath get blown out as a lance was shattered against his breastplate. Harry managed to rise up again, and drew his sword, with a cry of anger he drove it into the back of an unsuspecting knight, skewering his heart as he did so. With little effort he dragged it out of the dead knight, just in time to parry the strike of his comrade, with a grunt Harry swiped the sword away, and lashed out with the whip in his right hand, tearing his enemy's throat out.
Harry spun around, and snapped the whip towards a cluster of three knights, and as if by some stroke of luck, it wrapped itself around the enemy's swords. With a feral smile Harry dragged the swords out of their hands, and watched in grim satisfaction as they were dragged from their horses and killed.
Seeing as there were no enemies around Harry, he started to look around for the sorcerer that he was going to kill, and he spotted him as he was preparing a spell, and he had a clear shot as well. With a feral smile on his face Harry took out his wand aimed it and muttered two words. 'Avada Kedavra', out of his wand a green light flew towards the sorcerer with a rushing sound.
The sorcerer turned towards the green light of death coming towards him, and his eyes widened in terror as he lost control of his spell the moment the fatal curse hit him. Harry on the other hand watched in fascination as the combined energies of the killing curse and whatever spell the sorcerer had been attempting clashed together. With a disgusting sound of tearing flesh, the sorcerer exploded outwards, as a multitude of green beams was scattered about the place striking down Chaos warriors and Brettonnian knights alike.
With a roaring cry Harry and a dozen other bloodstained marauders crashed into the Brettonnian men-at-arms. His arms were moving on their own accord, his sword disembowelling and gutting his foes in droves, while his whip arched, snapped and swished about the place, tearing off heads and limbs while setting their corpses into flames.
After a few more kills, Harry was close to the remaining knights, who had formed up in a circle cluttered around the banner desperately trying to penetrate the heavy Chaos Armour that their foes were using.
Once again Harry put his whip in his belt before drawing his wand, and he aimed it at the closest knight. "Ossus Fractum", the deadly spell would force the bones in his body to implode on themselves, causing major internal bleeding and organ damage, the knight that was hit barely recognised that something was flying towards him before his skull collapsed, crushing his brain into goo.
The spell was followed by an entrail expelling curse and five overpowered cutting curses that sent four more knights to an early grave. With a grim smile Harry leaped up onto the closest horse, before he started moving towards the leader of the army, dispatching another knight with a stray killing curse.
Suddenly the Brettonnian leader was before him, sword raised in a challenge which Harry gladly accepted. They circled each other for a minute, trying to find a weakness to exploit. Harry knew that it would be a tough fight, especially on horseback where his enemy had the advantage so he needed to unhorse him.
A killing curse launched at his horse took care of the problem, and Harry leaped down from his own stolen horse to be ready for the fight to come. Wiping sweat from his forehead Harry raised his sword to be ready, that last curse had taken a lot out of him, and he was now breathing heavily from magical exhaustion.
With a cry the Brettonni Paladin threw himself at Harry, swinging his sword in to decapitate him, instead of using precious strength to block it Harry sidestepped and swept the sword away from him, essentially making it glide further along its path, and with a quick reversal strike Harry made a thin line of blood along his enemy's arm, the honour of first blood belonged to Harry.
With a snarl of anger his enemy swung around again, and as before Harry swept it aside drawing a thin line of blood on the reverse stroke. After that Harry turned on the offensive, his sword stabbed and slashed, chopped and swung, trying to penetrate the defences of his enemy. Ten minutes later both Harry and his opponent stood facing each other, breathing heavily from exhaustion, and bleeding from a score of small wounds.
As if by some predestined signal both attacked again, while his enemy thrust forward hoping to gut him, Harry sidestepped to the left, while bringing the sword down from an overhead chop that smashed his opponents sword from his grasp. Quick as lightning Harry ripped his opponents helm off, eager to see his face.
The man was nothing special, a middle aged man with a big moustache and a small beard accompanied by unfocused hazel eyes. With slow deliberation Harry picked up his opponents sword, a nice sword that would probably have fitted one of the rich lords that took part in the crusades in Harry's own world. The blade was a good three and a half feet long, with a crossguard formed much like a templar cross in black and a pummel that was studded with a small sapphire Harry decided that he had a new weapon. Hefting his new sword in his right while holding his other sword in his left Harry crossed them before his opponents throat, before cutting his head off.
For a whole three seconds silence reigned over the battlefield before the Chaos army roared out cries of victory, but Harry was cursing like a pissed off sailor. The Brettonnian knights had deemed it important to kill him now that he had killed their leader, so now they were all riding towards him.
Swearing again Harry threw the sword in his left hand towards the knights, skewering one through the throat. The Chaos warriors led by Varduk charged forward, intending to gain honour by killing more of the knights. With a flourish Harry had his wand out again, staying away from killing curses Harry decided to send a nice cutting curse that had been assigned by the greasy git himself actually. Only three knights was left now, and the rest of the Brettonnian army was fleeing or cut down while they were fleeing. With a cry of victory Harry smashed the Brettonnian Battle Standard Bearer to the ground, before driving his sword through his chest.
Seeing as the battle was won, Harry opened the bag he had charmed, it was enlarged from the inside, giving it enough room to hold and overly large car. The first thing Harry decided to pick up was the battle standard that he had captured, and then he followed the rest Into the city. Instead of raiding houses and the like Harry headed straight to the castle, filling up his bag with all manner of expensive silverware, bottles of fine wine, a number of tapestries. A fine throne made out of oak with strange carvings on, most likely an old relic from when the Elves still ruled the lands. He took all the gold he could find, which was about four large chests of it. In the bedroom he took a number of fine clothing.
Seeing nothing more that interested him, Harry put the place to the torch, before he ventured outside, to see if there was something left. Apparently there was nothing left, except the stables where Harry found a very big and strong warhorse completely black. After a small struggle of wills Harry won, and he led it out by the reins.
The rest of the city was already burning, and A small number of slaves had been herded into a circle where they were begging for their lives. With a shake of his head Harry followed the Chaos forces that were already moving towards the ships, receiving a nod of appreciation from Varduk.
As they moved onto the ships, the large Marauder that Harry had a bet with came up to him. "It appears that I was wrong abou' ye lad. Me name's Leif, and I'll give ye me swag when we get back, and I'll drop by yer house tae tell ye abou' the secret I mentioned", with a smile Harry grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. "Arkhan at your service Leif, I shall be expecting you".
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AN: Okay so that's the next part of the story. Please everyone who read this fic, vote in my poll at the top of my bio, I'll keep the poll open till the end of February. Thanks for the rewievs guys, I appreciate them.