AN1: Warhammer Fantasy AU: Greenskins have females and less savage as in canon.

AN2: I have 10.000+ words for the third chapter of Heralds of the new Age, but I stil have at least 2000 to write for it and rewrite the dialogues.

AN3: Constructive rewrites are welcome, but flames and screams for shaming the 'Fluff' aren't welcome!

Chapter I:

A new world

Eric Strock, once a proud member of the Gold Order, the alchemists of the Empire of Man stared at the man in front of him. This wasn't what supposed to happen. He carefully prepared for the ritual, slowly manipulating the arcane point.

The arcane point was one of the largest reason he came here. Arcane points were invisible points in the material world where the magical power concentrated. If one was able to use even a portion of those points he or she would able to use magic well beyond his or her initial abilities.

The reason of him seeking out such area was a duel with the apprentice of his rival in the Gold Order. The young man, who barely passed his twentieth nameday overheard Eric speaking ill of his master. In the following argument the older wizard lost his cool and agreed to a duel with the youth, only to be defeated by his hands in less than five minutes.

Not being able to endure the humiliation of losing a magical duel to a far younger wizard he left Altdorf to what once was Solland. There he tried to gain more power and knowledge for the sake of restoring his position within the Order.

Solland was nearly destroyed more than five centuries ago by a Chaos Incursion. When the fight ended most of Solland was given to the orc tribes helping the Empire, save for the Imperial city of Meissen. Those still alive being resettled in Wissenland, making it one of the most heavily populated area in the Empire.

Eric always thought it was folly to give the those barbarians land, ancient land belonging to the Empire since its foundation. But now, nearly a year after he came to these lands he had to admit it was far easier for him to conduct his experiments with the orcs ruling it. He only had to give them a few pounds of fine steel, one thing he had talent for, and the orcs gladly left him to his own designs in the abandoned Cathedral of Sigmar in the ruin of what was once one of the smaller towns in the region.

Only a few moons passed and his fortune seemed to turn around. It happened when a lady, so gorgeous he couldn't tore his gaze away from her form, arrived asking for lodging. He readily agreed and on the first night the lady came to his room to 'repay his kindness'.

In a short time she became everything to him. Nothing mattered but her. Sixty-two years passed since he came to this world, nearly fifty of those in the Gold Order, yet it was nary but a shadow in the past.

So when she asked him to worship the Chaos Gods he agreed after only a moment of hesitation. But seeing the hurt on her face as he hesitated for that moment caused more pain than the humiliation by the apprentice of his arch rival nearly a year ago.

After the first daemon was summoned everything became clear. Maria, the woman he loved with all his heart was the Masque of Slaanesh, once a favored daemonette of the Dark Mistress who was now in the service Tzeencth. Eric didn't care at this point truth be told. Maria gave him more pleasure and changed his life more than anything.

In short order the two set up a small portal to the realm of Chaos allowing numerous imps and dozens of lesser demons to gather in the Cathedral and the fort it resided in. Only two moons later hundreds of black orcs, the corrupted forms of orcs, arrived with a few chaos warriors leading them with the order to make a portal large and powerful enough for one of the greater daemons of Tzeencth to be summoned.

The preparations were large and time consuming even with him working on it hours in the night upon Maria's insistence. It was no easy task to summon a Lord of Change into the material world, let alone without alerting the nearby orc tribes or those in Altdorf. The arcane powers released by it could very well reveal them in the instant the daemon arrived. In fact it was a bit of a surprise that the orc shamans didn't felt the lesser demons. But again, those savages could never hope to reach the level of a wizard of mankind, let alone one who served the Raven God.

The problems started the day before. A few of the black orcs and imps went out to scout the nearby area and stumbled upon a female orc on the hunt. They captured her at the cost of a dozen of their own, a small price to pay in Eric opinion. After all the black orcs were nothing but slaves to Chaos. But the tribes will learn of their existence and with the largest tribe this side of the World Edge Mountain, the tribe of Gorrad Bloodaxe only a day of march away he didn't had much time left.

So he left the orcess in the 'tender' care of Maria while he conducted the ritual. His partner didn't know he advanced the time for the summoning, but the daemonette wanted them to be absolutely sure of its success. Eric however was sure of his abilities. With the power and knowledge given by the Raven God he couldn't fall!

Yet, when the summoning ended in the place of one of the most powerful servants of his god stood a tall man with emerald eyes flashing dangerously as he leveled his gaze on the sight before him.

Harry James Potter scowled at his surrounding. It was a chamber easily large enough to house thousands of people. It greatly resembled a cathedral with large frescos, sculptures of men and woman. Behind Harry where he couldn't see stood a statue of a warrior-king twice as large as a man.

The entire place was in ruin. Most of the walls have parts missing, from a few bricks to the size of a door. The floor also had several holes and craters as far as he could see. The wind on the back of his neck told him that at least one window was broken aside the one made out of stained glass on his right.

What had him scowling was the fact that the human wizard who summoned him out of the daemonic realm was surrounded by dozens of lesser demons, maybe even a hundred and two knights in black plate armor with blue trim had dark magic rolling off them in waves. Harry had no mercy in his heart for those who sold his (or her) soul to daemons. And this man before him obviously did.

The demon summoner wore a lavish black robe made out of velvet, a steel staff with a lead ball at the end in his hand. On his finger was a golden ring. His once brown eyes, now a medley of brown, green and blue usually alight with greed, widened in surprise.

Not allowing enough time to the warlock to regain his wits Harry struck immediately. His sword slashed across the other man throat ripping it open. The man let out a horrible gurgle even as he fell to the floor, while his blood flown into a large puddle around him.

Harry always wanted to learn more about swords after his second year, but thanks to his 'adventures' he never had any time to delve deeper in the subject until he finished his magical education (well, at least the institutional one). His study in runes and their applications in medieval warfare lead him back to swords and martial arts in general. Both area which he thrown himself into.

The two warrior of chaos reacted immediately one was armed with a large, two handed sword while the other with two battleaxes. The one with the greatsword leaped forward bringing down the sword where Harry stood with speed belied by his large frame. Harry quickly leaped back while conjuring a spear of rock and hurling it at the armor wearing giant. The spear however didn't pierce the chest of his enemy as he thought it would only causing it to step back.

Admittedly it wasn't of the best material and neither was he at full power, but it showed one of the problems with conjuration. No matter how good you were at it the quality will always fall short of the real thing unless you put an extremely large amount of magic into the spells. Only after truly starting to use them in battle did he learn it and finding a much deeper respect for McGonagall whom dueled mainly using those and transfiguration.

He quickly conjured half a dozen lions to distract the enemy along with sending a blasting curse at the imps nearing him, causing them to disappeared in a ball of fire. It seemed the lesser daemons didn't had the same protection the two warrior had.

"It's most likely the armor they wear. Either magical protection or reinforcements. Magical protection more likely as the reinforcement needed would be too heavy to be useful unless they are way more powerful than I believe them to be." Harry deduced with a grimace. He wasn't in the best shape before he was even summoned and didn't look forward to the battle.

He sent another blasting curse at the imps on his left side while conjuring another dozen wolves and a warrior standing ten feet tall made out of rock, wielding an obsidian sword to deal with the remaining imps. The wolves will engage them while the the golem will slowly kill them all. Harry very much doubted that the imps would be able to do anything against it.

The warriors meanwhile still fought with the lions. The one with the greatsword had one on his back , but the other was just about to kill the another one remaining with a swing of his left hand. Harry sent a cutting curse at the hand which barely made made any damage in the armored gloves the warrior wore. With a mental command Harry had the lion joining the other in harassing the second warrior.

Harry now tried another approach: a silver arrow shaped spell to the chest. The warrior seemed surprised for some reason or another at the spell, but he cared not of it. The spell worked far better than the spear as it clearly destroyed the plate armor and the flesh behind. To be fair the spell was powered enough to blast through a boar, yet only managed to pierce his enemy removing a hefty chunk of flesh from his torso. The warrior tried to stay standing but Harry would have none of it. With three quick step he was in front of the man, grasping his rune sword in two hands and thrusting it into his heart.

He had to quickly pull the sword out as an imp charged at him. The daemon did try to evade his sword but it was pitiful at best. A mere moment later it was dead at Harry's feet. Looking around he could see that most of the wolves he made disappeared, though most of the imps seemed to realize that they weren't enough to bring down either him or his golem.

That was when the other warrior attacked him. Only his quick reflex saved him as he locked blades with the imposing man. His earlier thoughts were proven true about their armor as he was able to mach the strength behind the blow, even if barely. The next blow was defended even easier as the warrior started to get angrier and angrier at being unable to kill the wizard in front of him.

That was when he stepped into a puddle of water on the floor a sign of the rain yesterday and the hole in the roof. Harry didn't waste any time: he froze the water causing the warrior to lose his footing. The man went down with a curse in a language Harry didn't know, but he understood the gits of it. Without mercy or a thought of fair fight he decapitated the man. He was fairly sure that the man before him wasn't very familiar either conception. Beside...

"Only a fool would miss an opportunity like this." Harry learned the hard way that most of the times you had to forget anything about being fair while on the battlefield. Mercy and honor were two things he valued greatly, but wouldn't except from those in the room. Daemons were notoriously dishonorable and daemon worshipers weren't any better in his experience.

Now he was alone in the room with only the golem standing in the doorway. On the floor laid the wizard who summoned him, the two warriors and at least fifty imps. Thanks to the battle the already worn down building gained a few dozen new battle scars.

Now that the battle was down Harry could think about where he was. If he didn't know any better he would think he was somewhere in Europe. The cathedral was near identical to those on the continent even if larger than most. Looking behind himself he came across the statue of the warrior-king in front of the broken stained glass window dominating the back of the building. He was in full plate armor with a mighty hammer in his hand. Harry was sure that no temple had anything like this statue in them in Europe.

Glancing back at the ritual circle he destroyed nearly two moons worth of work. He had no desire to see any more daemon than necessary. He turned to the doorway reading himself for battle. Placing a hand on the golem he allowed his magic to flow into it, repairing and strengthening what he could. He cursed at the his lack of potions as he could use some of them against fatigue.

Allowing himself to rest for a minute or two he stepped out the door with the golem at his side. The sun was high in the sky allowing him too see clearly. He stood on a hill, in a small fort or something. The cathedral itself was on a slope of the hill along with the keep on its right. The walls of the fort had several holes in them and the building inside the fort didn't looked much better. The only exception was the keep itself, which still seemed mostly habitable. Outside the walls laid a small, deserted town in the same or even worse state than the keep itself. Tens of steps lead down to a large square with half a statue in the middle.

A square which was a rallying point of the daemons and their servants. Another ten warrior in plate armor, hundreds of lesser daemons and black humanoids. Harry would call them orc, but from what he knew orcs should be green. Their skin was pure ebony, most stood as tall as a man with blood red eyes and large tusk jutting out of their mouth. They wore crude black armor, nowhere near the quality of the warriors, with most wielding a slightly curved one edge sword.

After a moment of silence one of the black orcs bellowed and the horde started to climb the steps towards Harry. The wizard looked on the approaching mass with disdain as he sent one blasting curse after the other. When the first opponent reached him at least half of his attackers were dead including two of the warriors.

Harry stepped back conjuring a great steel ball, as tall as he was and sent it down the steps. Some were able to get out of the way, but most were too surprised to do anything but scream even as the ball crushed them. Two other warrior died to the ball and another as he tried to destroy the golem in face to face battle.

The remaining thirty or so imps and orcs was cut down mercilessly as they tried to retreat to the square where the reserve waited watching the death of their comrade indifferently. They didn't move either to advance or to retreat.

Harry and the golem slowly walked down the steps allowing Harry to rest a bit. Truth be told the conjuration of the ball and the golem took an effort even from him.

When he came across the enemy about fifteen yard away the warrior in the middle spoke up, the first time one tried to speak with him.

"Wizard, I'm the servant of Tzeencth, the Raven God. Our lord would gladly welcome one such as you in his service." His voice was deep and rumbling as he and the others watched Harry carefully, who shrugged in response.

"Sorry, but it has been years since I followed anyone and I don't see why I should start again now."

Before the warrior or any of them tried to offer him this or that the black orcs surged forward roaring out battle cries. Harry cast two cutting curse at them reducing their number greatly as the spell severed limbs, carved through armor and sliced into flesh. With a mental command the golem marched towards the five warrior. The imps stayed behind a group of twenty or so pink skinned daemons. They had great jaws, three or four arms and powerful legs. As their own wave met with the golem Harry noticed that the imps seemed to breathe fire, but paid little to no mind after seeing it had no effect whatsoever on the golem.

Harry focus turned to the warrior who avoided the golem going to the side and straight at him. At least this one was smart enough to use a shield not that it mattered much. A blasting curse to the feet toppled him and silver arrow finished him off.

As the others were busy with his golem, deciding, for some reason or another, that it was more dangerous than the wizard who summoned it was. Harry quickly cast a spell to tell if there were more enemies. The spell worked like a sonar for most part and thankfully was both widespread and powerful enough while didn't add too much of his magical fatigue. A dozen or so orcs, a fairly powerful daemon and a few lesser resided in the dungeons below the main hold to his right, but aside of them it seemed their entire force assembled in the courtyard. With a simple gesture of his left hand the golem disappeared causing the thirty or so remaining enemies to turn towards Harry.

"Igni Draconis!" Or in English: dragonfire. One of the strongest fire-based spell in Harry's repertoire. It was a jet of flame, hot enough to melt steel sustained by his magic. Most of his enemy died near instantly. Only the two chaos warriors lived through but a pair of overpowered cutting curses ended them as well.

Harry sighed. If only he was truly rested! Now however he had to go to the keep clean it out, place an anti demon rune over the cathedral where he appeared, even if only a minor one and then most likely had to sleep for a long time after he finished.

Casting again the magical sonar he was surprised that those in the keep didn't move. It was as if they either didn't heard the battle, thought it was just a scuffle within their own force or decided to barricade themselves deep down.

He slowly walked into the keep, the large oak door slightly ajar, not that it was in the condition to stop him. The inside of the keep was only a little bit better than the outside. A few chairs and table was up but more were in pieces. The door leading to the dungeon was easily found to the right to the entrance.

Taking the torch out of the cresset he went down the narrow steps leading down. He could use the lumos spell but decided to save as much of his magical energy as he could. Reaching the bottom of the stair he looked around. He was in a wide, dark hallway, at least compared to the stairs where only one man could go at a time. On both sides there were cells one after another, each able to contain five-six men at once without trouble. He had no doubt that there was time when dozen men was throw into each of them.

So he was truly in the dungeons. Lovely. He slowly walked forward with only his torch providing light. The hallway ended in a set of heavy doors not thirty yards away from the stairs. Deciding against using magic to open the door he opted to use his right hand. To his minor surprise the door opened without trouble even if it let out a little creak.

It was a larger circular chamber alight with torches on the wall a few feet apart. On the far side there was a table and a brazier beside each other. There were a dozen and half of black orcs and the lesser daemons at the walls looking at the middle of the chamber before Harry opened the door. In the middle a daemonette stood over a prisoner who had her feet chained to the ground while her arms were puled angularly to the walls with another set of chains. The prisoner was bared to the world, her clothes and equipment on the table, save for a fang on a leather cord.

Harry was surprised because the female definitely was an orc. She skin tone however was entirely different compared to the rest he had seen: she was emerald green instead of the ebony black. Even with her on her knees he could see that she was tall and extremely fit. Her entire body was filled with sleek muscles. Her long legs leading to a generous hip and a fabulous booty. A strip of black hair above the petals of her womanhood. Her abs could be clearly seen, all six packs well defined. Her breasts were only a little more than handful tipped with a shade or two darker nipples. Her face was delicate, framed by her silky, long, black hair which reached the small of her back. Her nose small, just as her tusks, which poked only an inch or so out her plump lips. Her hazel eyes looked at him in open wonder.

The daemonette behind her was also beautiful, in fact for most she was most likely more appealing than the orcess. She greatly resembled Fleur Delacour with blonde hair, pale skin and blue eyes. Even her haughty expression wasn't unfamiliar on her face. Yet, her eyes was anything, but Fleur's: this woman was consumed by lust and greed. She was clad in leather dominatrix clothes, high boots and whip and all that thing.

Only a moment passed as Harry took in the room before the black ors on either side of the door attacked him. Harry quickly sidestepped the one on his right and thrust the torch in his hand into the orc's mouth muffling the war cry it bellowed. The attack was blocked with his sword as he quickly drew it. The orc clearly expected the human unable to mach his strength. With a simple twist of his wrist Harry redirected the orc's sword and with a quick slash following from down to up he opened its belly.

He sent a fireball to a group of two of the pink daemons, an imp and three orcs consuming them before they had time to do anything. Next he conjured a shield to intercept a swing from another orc with a mace. The orc was thrown back with a loud ringing sound. A moment later Harry's sword flashed and the orc's head flew apart the body. Harry sent a cutting curse at the pink daemon charging at him nearly bisecting it. With a wave of his hand he sent a blasting curse at one of the remaining two orcs hitting it squarely in the chest. The upper half of its body blew back painting the wall beside them into blood, bones and wame. The other orc tried to make a run for it but Harry sent a cutting curse at his back. He had no mercy for that thing.

The daemonette looked on as the very handsome human wizard destroyed her underlings in a matter of seconds. Eric started to grow out his usefulness and this man would be much better for her plans. Not only was he far more powerful than her newest toy, but far more handsome and young.

"Welcome young wizard." She purred to him. "I can see your power. The Raven God..."

"Sorry." Harry interrupted in a voice that clearly showed how unapologetic he truly was. "The guys upstairs tried that one already."

"Upstairs?" The daemonette repeated, deciding to look over the sheer gall of this mortal to interrupt her. "What do you mean?"

"You know the army of daemons and orcs, I guess, on the fort." Harry shrugged. "They weren't very welcoming let me tell you. I had to correct that."

Maria, as Eric know her narrowed her eyes. She thought he was alone and came under stealth to rescue the orc as a favor for one of the tribes, but he spoke like he battled the army in the fort.

"Are you saying that you defeated my army? All alone?" She asked causing the man to shrug his shoulder.

"Yes, they weren't that good at strategy, charging at me like that to overpower me. And as you can see... " He gestured to the door and the hallway beyond it. "I am alone."

"Of course they did that." Maria thought as she quickly tried to formulate a plan to survive the day. "Against a lone wizard it is the best you can do. They can't just keep casting spells one after another, even the best of the high elves need time to rest a bit now and them. That army wasn't the largest or the most diverse, but to fight and defeat it alone is a great accomplishment none the less." The army was there to fight the orcs in the land and not a wizard. "Should I try to seduce him to my side?" She had no doubt that she was much more qualified to do so than those he spoke before. But again surviving was her top priority.

"Look stranger, we don't need to fight, right? I will leave the orc here for you, alright?" Seeing that Harry blank face she upped the ante. "And if you want I can provide with some... comfort shall we say?" It wouldn't be the first time she fucked someone for survival or duty, the last being Eric, and at least this one was handsome.

Harry glanced down the prisoner who's eyes were wide with fear. Looking at the daemonette his face hardened. At least this one wasn't stupid: at the sight of his face she leapt back at once, her whip striking at him. The problem was that it wasn't one made for being used in battle. It was pure leather without even a steel hook at the end. Harry's rune sword easily cut through it leaving the daemonette defenseless.

With surprising speed she dashed to the door only to be caught by the roots growing from the ground. She looked at the wizard in front of her hatefully, her face transforming into something terrible. Her tongue elongated her eyes turned purple and horns started to grow on her head. With a single motion the roots turned into spikes piercing her body. The daemonette barely had time to scream before she died.

Slowly turning towards the prisoner Harry could see her hopeful expression. Then in a soft voice she said one word.

"Help."

Shaerra Stormborn cursed herself every minute since the moment she woke up finding herself in a cell, bare as the day she was born, chained to the floor and walls. After testing their strength a few times she knew that escape won't be possible on her own. And as she lived far from her clan for nearly five moons she doubted anyone would look for her in the near future.

She was out hunting her meal when the black orcs attacked. The memories were foggy but she was sure that at least some of them won't hurt anyone again.

At first she panicked. She heard tales of what became of those females captured by those fool creatures. Breeders, raped constantly until they got heavy with their spawns and after they were big enough to live without their bearer the circle continued.

She sent a silent thankful prayer to Rhya, the Earth Mother, that she wasn't violated in her deep sleep. Her relief however was short lived as a daemonette stepped inside her cell with more than a dozen black orcs and lesser daemons at her heel. It was clear why wasn't she raped: the daemonette wanted the honor of breaking her. She sent a defiant glare at the thing which seemed to amuse it greatly.

At first the daemonette just walked around her, describing in great length how will the torture go. Shaerra couldn't keep her pride on leash as she kept talking back to the daemonette. She knew she only made her torture that more painful, daemons particularly liked strong willed victims, but couldn't help herself.

The loathsome daemon only just grabbed her whip for some light 'fun' as she called it before the door opened. At first Shaerra thought that the human was the sorcerer she heard the daemonette mention earlier.

He was tall for a human, about the same height of the average male of her race, even if much less bulky. He wore well made, but strange clothes. His handsome face was a frozen mask as he regarded the creatures around him. When his emerald eyes looked at her Shaerra felt herself blush a little. It felt like that gaze reached the deepest parts of her soul. His gaze quickly run over her bare body and she was proud of the small flicker of lust that lighted up in them. She didn't mind being nude in front of him, though she knew that mankind for most part had very different view on it than her own people.

After the moment their eyes met the battle began. She felt her loins heat up at the sight of him single handedly destroying her captors. Strength and power were always a turn-on for orcs. And other races as well apparently as she heard the daemonette's deep breaths.

When the daemonette made her offer she felt a brief surge of panic. But the man stayed true, by the Beyond he didn't seem even tempted to take up the daemonette offer! Shaerra felt a new kind of respect for the man. Killing half and a dozen black orcs and lesser daemons was one thing. A male refusing when a daemonette offered herself up? That was another thing entirely. Daemonettes were known to be able to transfix, but those with the most powerful of wills.

When the daemonette was dealt with Shaerra could feel her hope rising, though she tired to rein it in. She knew that aside of those in Meissen most men in the Empire consider her people to be simple barbarians.

"Help." She herself was a bit surprised at her voice. She didn't mean to plea with her rescuer! But the man cared little of her show of weakness as he waved his arms at her chains and they, one after another let loose.

When the last one fell she tried to stand only to her legs give out under her. The man's arm sneaked around her waist steadying her while her body leaned over his. After a few moments she regained her ability to stand straight and the man immediately let go of her.

She looked at the man in surprise as he took off his cloak and gave it to her. It seemed that he was embarrassed seeing her without anything to cover her skin, despite the fact that he have seen most of it already. Not that it mattered to her, but she put it around her shoulder for his sake.

Stepping to the the table she let out a snarl. Those idiotic savages ruined most of her clothes! It was obvious that they wouldn't care of it as she was to be raped for the rest of her life. Her leather trousers were in tatters, mostly at the hip as they literally cut it off of her. Her fur coat was a bit better but overall in similar condition even if with luck she could salvage something out of it unlike with the trousers. The only two clothes undamaged were her undergarments, and that was only because their string gave away before it could be ripped apart, and her fur boots.

At least her hunting knife and bow along with the quiver and the sheath of the knife were there without anything missing. She would thought they took them away, but again black orcs loathed anything but melee combat and her knife would be akin to a toothpick in their mind.

She quickly slipped into her undergarments, her knife held by the strings of her undergarments and flung the quiver across her back after taking three arrow in her right hand along with the bow.

"Don't worry, there aren't any enemies around." He looked straight into her eyes, in spite of his cloak doing a poor job covering her in her undergarments, his hand out for a shake. Shaerra looked at the arm for a moment before clasping his forearm after taking her bow and the three arrows into her left, pleased that the man realized that she was a warrior as well.

"I Shaerra Stormborn." She wasn't fluent in what men from the Empire called the 'Common' language, but she at least could hold a conservation even if the others in it had to have a very good knowledge of it to understand what she wanted.

"Harry Potter." Harry was glad that the female in front of him spoke English. He had a feeling that it was widely used after both the chaos warrior and the daemonette spoke it. Her forearm shake was a surprise but he shook it off soon enough. "Maybe I can try something about your clothes?"

Shaerra shruged as she stepped to the side as with a flash Harry cast a spell at her clothing only to nothing to happen. The female orc raised an eyebrow at it.

"What should it do?"

"Its name is reparo. It repair things if every single part of the object is in the vicinity."

"Ahh." Shaerra nodded along. "It matterz not. I have other home." She started going towards the hallway with a sudden urgency.

"Hey! Wait!" Harry had to jog a bit to catch up to her. "Why the hurry?"

"Aya'tok." She replied without slowing down a bit. "Whitefang. My direwolf. She is great friend."

Harry stayed silent following her up the stairs, never mentioning the fact that he seen nothing looking even vaguely as a wolf. Stepping outside Shaerra eyes widened at the sheer number of dead bodies across the square, but she had more pressing matter to attend.

"Aya'tok!" Her shout could be heard through the small town. And a wolf howled in response from the other side of the keep. Shaerra broke into running as Harry tried to keep up with her. She was only a few inches shorter than him, her long legs carrying her fast and she had a head start.

Coming around the corner he could feel his eyes widening. He was glad that Shaerra was busy with the wolf as he stood there motionless with his jaws near the ground. When Shaerra said direwolf he thought of a wolf that was slightly larger than your regular, run of the hill wolf. What was in a cage was a wolf that was at least as large as a bear if not larger. Her fur was healthy, silverish white, her fangs bone white making him assume the she-orc cleaned the wolf regularly. Her brown, near black eyes looked at her mistress as she whined while pushing her head against the bars.

Slowly he stepped closer drawing the attention of the wolf to him. The beast let out a loud growl as her eyes looked at distrustfully. Shaerra gently stroked her head while saying something to it in another language, Orcish Harry assumed. It was interesting, most word seemed to be made up by two or three syllables and it had a weird, but musical beat to it. After Shaerre motioned that he could come closer he stepped next looking at the lock at the cage. Waving his arm at it the same happened as when he freed Shaerra: with a loud click the gate was unlocked and the wolf was free.

Harry smiled slightly as Shaerra hugged Aya'tok's head, while the wolf nuzzled her. After a moment as they relished that this nightmare was over the two broke apart and looked at the wizard. Harry looked unsure as Shaerra closed the space between them in two steps and hugged him tightly.

"Thankz you!"

"There is nothing to thank me for, Shaerra. I'm glad both of you are alright." Harry replied as he slowly stepped back looking at Aya'tok, whos eyes looked at him with the same gratefulness Shaerra did. "Not a simple wolf at all." Harry thought, before turning back to the orc.

"I want to see if I can set up some wards around the arcane point."

"Wards?"

"Magic protecting an area."

"You are strange wizard, Harry." Shaerra said regarding him with speculative eyes.

"Why would you say that."

"Wizards only have one magic." Shaerra replied simply.

"Truly?" He asked over his shoulder as he went back to the square. It was an interesting information even if he wasn't sure what did she meant exactly. He doubted she meant that a wizard could only use one spell. They had to be way more versatile, so maybe one type of magic? Maybe white and black magic and something in between? That was a possible, but that would mean they categorized magic in a very different way than the wizards on Earth did.

Shaerra's eyes went wide as she truly beheld the massacre that took place here not even twenty minutes ago. She could feel her loins heat up. Magical or not, power was power and females loved powerful males.

"You did this alone?" Now she understood the daemonette's surprise. Seeing Harry nod in response she asked. "How in Taal name do you do this?"

"It wasn't that hard." Harry shrugged. "They just rushed at me as if they could simply overpower me."

"That how you fight mage." Shaerra replied unsurely. That was one of the simplest and most common tactic against wizard that she was taught. Get close, as most didn't know shit about melee combat or overwhelm them with number and kill them when they become tired. The other tactic for regular troops was to have one of them sneak up on the wizards and back stab him or her.

"Maybe others." Harry allowed. He knew nothing how wizards here fought. "But against me it's just stupid." He left it unsaid that it nearly worked. He was exhausted and could only hope that Shaerra was honorable enough to give him shelter.

Stepping into the cathedral Harry went straight where he was summoned. He assumed that the warlock was smart enough to find the center of the arcane point. Looking at the double circle of runes he scowled because while some looked like norse runes most were so different he couldn't know their meaning for sure. He could guess or translate it, but wasn't foolish enough to the former and had no time for the latter.

"What happen here?" Shaerra asked looking around until her eyes rested on the ten feet wide circles of runes. "Is that a summoning circle?"

"Yes. From the size, the double circle and the fact that there is an arcane point I assume they wanted to summon one of the stronger daemons. Unluckily for them they got me instead." Harry murmured the last part, but Shaerra heard it anyway.

"You are summoned?" Her voice wavered a little. The orcess stepped back and her right hand griped her hunting knife so tightly her knuckles turned forest green.

"Yes." Harry sent a reassuring smile over his shoulder. "But you don't have to worry I'm no daemon whatsoever."

"How do I know you not lie?" She asked back looking as he studied the circle. "What do you do?"

"I don't think I can say anything that could convince you. " Harry replied turning back to her. Looking straight in her eyes. "I only ask you to assess me by my actions. I always thought they spoke much clearer than words only."

"True enough I suppose." Shaerra nodded. It was how orcs did it after all. Harry did nothing to cause her to doubt him. Still, he admitted of being summoned. "How could they summon you then?"

"I was trapped on or rather in their plane of existence. " Harry replied with a shrug. Seeing that she had more questions he lifted his hand to stop her. "I will tell you more later if you want but I need to finish this."

"What do you do?" Shaerra asked again stepping closer to him to see his work.

"First I will try to feel out the magic of this place then I will do everything I can so nobody will be able to summon a daemon here."

Harry didn't wait for an answer which was a bit rude, but he wanted to get out of these ruins as fast as possible. He tried to reach out to the arcane point, a place where magic converged, to feel the nature of the magic here. Someone like Dumbledore who had more experience with (and frankly more talent for) magical auras most likely wouldn't even need an arcane point for it.

What Harry found was strange in itself. The magical energies were wild, untamed and uncontrollable compared to what he was accustomed to. He could feel a couple of different types, but he pulled back before anything happened. For all he knew his own magic could react to these: well, winds would be the closest analogy he could come up.

This was similar to what was on Earth eons ago according to some ancient tales. Magic was wild, as dangerous to the wizards using it as to everyone else. Then the shamans from all around the globe cast a spell that fundamentally changed the very nature of magic. It became disciplined, easier to learn, to master, to create. No longer had the wizard have to be careful while looking into a fireplace and trying to get his afternoon tea: his wand won't let out a stream of fire. Thousands upon thousands of new spells were created near literally overnight. Well, that was what legends said.

Harry started to understood why was Shaerra and his enemy that surprised seeing him using all kind of spells. If there was someone who can use different types of magic he had to be much older than him unless the wizard didn't had a death wish. You needed to master any of this kind of magic if you wanted to safely use it.

"Of course that's only my assumptions." Harry reminded himself. "If they somehow found a way to control the flow of magic better than my people it is very possible that there are some wizard using every types of magic." He looked at the metal staff near the warlock.

"Shaerra." He softly called for the orcess who was looking around without stepping too far away from him, causing her to look at him.

"Yes?"

"How much do you know about magic?" Harry asked. He knew that there was a low chance of her knowing anything he didn't already know, but he had to ask.

"Not much." The female warrior admitted with a grimace, before her face lit up and exclaimed with a grin. "But shaman Chaka will know!"

"Shaman Chaka?" Harry asked back blankly. In his head he fist pumped with a clone of himself. While there was little chance of her knowing anything note whorty, she knowing someone who was better learned in the arcane arts was possibility.

"My clan'... former clan's shaman." Shaerra paused for a moment at the mention of her clan. A hint of dark look passed through her face, but it disappeared before Harry could blink. "He is old. Very old and wise. He will know answers."

"I see." Harry didn't press about her clan even if he was curious about it. It was clearly not something she would want to speak about and it wasn't the best time for him to meddle into someone's affairs. "I would like to ask you a favor Shaerra."

"Yes?" The orcess looked at him with a sincere, if small smile. "You save me. I will help!"

"Thank you." Harry returned her smile with one of his own. He was glad that he had someone who would help him. "I'm exhausted. After I finish this..." He gestured to the runic array. "... can I spend a night or two at your place?"

"Is that it?" Shaerra looked at him genuinely surprised. "You are friend! You can come the time you want!"

"Thank you." Harry repeated. It seems she wasn't as wary of the fact that he was summoned as he thought. Or she just wanted to watch over him. Of course her being grateful for saving her life was just as likely.

"I truly need to stop looking for hidden meanings all the time." He thought for himself. He could think about the reasons of why did she allow him spend days in her home later. Now, he needed to focus on the runic array.

Runes were a very interesting types of magic. Basically you wrote instructions down with symbols and when you flood it with magic the procedure you wrote would start. As some runes had different meanings the user intent was a key factor to the usage. As well as the imagination, which the warlock sorely lacked.

Summoning a daemon was forbidden in the wizarding world for a reason.

Even Voldemort and Bellatrix weren't insane enough to attempt it. There just too many ways you can go wrong with it. For one you need to bind the daemon if you want to be sure not to be betrayed at the first turn. Two, you need to stabilize a portal strong and long enough to the daemon to appear in this plane of existence. Three, you need a way to deal with the chaotic magic of the daemons. Granted the second and third point weren't an issue with an arcane point, but those three were just what Harry (a novice in demonology) could name from the top of his head.

But there was no time for him to think about any of it. With a burst of magic he destroyed the runes in the circle. Another burst made a large rune appear in the middle of the former circle. It was in the shape ofa nordic cross, about two feet wide and long. One of the most basic ward, but it had to do. Harry didn't know if he was able to cast any spell without a blackout.

"I really should have thought out my battle plan before going nearly all out against them." He thought with a grimace.

"I'm done. It will hold for the time being."

Shaerra nodded as the two turned to the gate of the cathedral. She could see sweat gathering at his brow and him taking deep breaths.

After taking the steps down to the square Aya'tok crouched down allowing Shaerra to get on her. After getting comfortable the orcess looked at Harry. After a moment of hesitation the man accepted Shaerra's arm and flung up beside her.

Harry at first didn't know where to place his hands. He knew how distracting and uncomfortable was when someone placed their hands on their shoulder, but also didn't want to encircle her waist. Shaerra looked over her shoulder impatiently causing him to gingerly place his hands on her hips. The female in front of him rolled her eyes as she grabbed the hands and placed them around her waist, drawing the man to herself until she could fell his chest against her back. Before Harry could form any objection Shaerra said a few words to her wolf causing it to trot from the square.

At the gate of the fort (both wing being broken in,) Harry could clearly see the surrounding area as the fort itself was on a hill. At the foot of the hill was the empty town. To the East he could see a large mountain range going from North-east to South-west, standing only ten or so miles away. In the South the mountains turned to North-west, but that was a couple of dozens miles away. The hills between the two mountain ranges were small and had gently upgrade. There were forests doting the land, but most of it was grassland with groups of trees on them. In the far distance to the West, at the end of his sight, he could barely make out a huge forest. Looking to the north he could see the terrain remaining the same even as it was divided by a great river.

By the time he finished looking at the lands around them Aya'tok took them down on the narrow path leading down from the fort to the empty town.

The town itself was fairly small as far as Harry was concerned. Most houses were either one or two storey high and as far as he could seen apart from the main road the streets were narrow. He couldn't imagine more than five thousands living here.

Aya'tok increased her speed from trotting to running. Only a few minutes later they passed the town gate and the wolf turned to North North-east. Slowly the firs changed to oaks as they got far away from the mountains. After about five miles they had to cross a river at a ford.

Half an hour later they arrived at Shaerra's hut. The walls were made out of wood and the rooftop of reed. To the left side there was a lean-to shed for Aya'tok. A pair of hare fur was strung on a cord between the shed and a tree.

When the wolf stopped Harry slowly slipped down on her side. Seeing how tried he was Shaerra stepped next to him, helping him into the hut. Harry was half asleep by the time he was laid on a bed of furs. Shaerra lifted his head to allow him to drink from the water-skin she get from somewhere on the side. After a few sips he was gently laid back down.

His last memory was Shaerra turning towards the door of the hut before he blacked out.