And Happy New Year to you all!
While this may be the shortest chapter I've written, I did keep my promise that I'll return with a new chapter. Sadly, there's not much to bring on the table except for reactions and some repitition.
However, I have been meaning to introduce characters like Malus bit by bit to give a little tease for future chapters. Next chapter, however, will be the main draw as I prepare myself for the Naggaroth arc.
At the same time, I'm also returning to college to apply myself for a writing career. Meaning progress will slow down while I focus on schoolwork.
But for now, enjoy this short chapter while prep myself for the long game ahead of me.
Faded Silence
Doom Slayer exited the deck where he was met with a sombre scene of a victorious battle. The Sea Guard was able to suppress the pirates to submission, with many of them now at the mercy of the Asur; their hands tied to their backs.
Several of the guards gave leeway for him as he carried the Bretonnian towards safe shores. The defeated pirates - or what's left of them - looked at the Slayer with fear in their eyes; some averting their gaze when he stared back. The Asur, meanwhile, gave a look of admiration and respect from their faces as he passed by; showing their gratitude to him when he turned the tides. Of course, there was the occasional sneer and disdain from certain individuals, but the Slayer's work outweighed the petty feelings.
Hayden activated the portal in front of Doom Slayer; leading only to the shoreline. There, he was greeted by Alarielle and her handmaidens approaching.
"Oh no..." Alarielle muttered with worry as she saw the woman he carried; quickly pacing towards him. Worry soon turned to horror as she examined the extensive injuries that were found upon the girl's body.
Alarielle looked back up at Doom Slayer's face, which now revealed sullen but still angry eyes behind his visor.
"There are more back on the ship." Hayden chimed in. "We will be heading back to town now. I take it that there are healers established over there?"
"Y-Yes, Hayden." She answered with composure. "We have set up tents and resting areas for the wounded. But we'll take her from here."
Doom Slayer nodded. Carefully, he took her off his hands slowly; allowing her to stand up a bit. The girl understood the gesture but kept her hands on him as she pulled herself together and took some steps in. She kept her hand on Doom Slayer's even as she was capable of standing up for herself before she hesitantly let go and was soon embraced by the Everqueen. Alarielle greeted her first with a warm smile.
"It's alright, little one." She assured the Bretonnian. "Here, you will suffer no more."
The girl nodded before Alarielle looked back to some of her guards.
"I will need volunteers to retrieve any survivors from the boat. Any willing to take up the task?"
A couple of them had stepped forward with duty in mind.
"See to it, then," Alarielle ordered. The few handmaidens detached, while the others remained to their Everqueen's side. Alarielle gently caressed a hand on the girl's cheek. The girl shuddered at the touch but remained passive knowing Alarielle was no Druchii.
"What is your name, little one?" Alarielle asked. The girl was straining to form the words in her mouth, but Alarielle remained patient for her.
"... G-...G-Gwenivar... Gwenivar Sanguine." The girl answered.
"A Bretonnian, then." Alarielle remarked.
"Well, Lady Sanguine, you will be in good hands. Until the day comes when you are ready to leave, you will be under my care." Alarielle comforted. Gwen nodded again. This time, she dawned a small but faint smile on her lips. Alarielle laid her eyes back towards Doom Slayer, who never took off his on Gwenivar.
"I thank you for defending our home, Slayer." She thanked. "Is there anything I can do to further help you?"
Doom Slayer shook his head. He then proceeded to check the ammo count on his guns. The ammunition was running low at the moment, save for the BFG and the Unmaykr. Had the dark elves been demons, he wouldn't have worried too much about running out of ammo and just enjoy turning demons into resource pinĂ£tas. Fortunately, he had made modifications to increase the count once the fortress came back.
With little to do here other than allow the elves to clean up, Hayden opened up a portal again. This time, back to the fortress.
"Thank you, Everqueen. We'll take our leave now." Hayden said.
"Have a good evening, Hayden." Alarielle replied. Doom Slayer soon departed, but not before taking one last glance back at Gwenivar, who soon took notice and a sense of longing had been reflected on her expressions. Eventually, he entered and the portal closed behind him; disappearing without a trace.
This left Alarielle, Gwenivar, and the Handmaidens on the beach. The Everqueen looked back at the fragile Bretonnian with concern.
"Come," Alarielle suggested. "We'll see to your wounds."
Gwenivar nodded and complied, both now walking back to town followed by Handmaidens.
The Tower of Cold
In the Land of Chill, neither blade nor arrow could match the penetrating power to pierce the souls of the weak-willed than the Witch King's gaze.
And his gaze set themselves upon the laughable skirmish that occurred on a small town in Ulthuan. The daemon inside Malus was quite descriptive and informal, albeit agitated, when prodded about for information on this mythical warrior.
And what he received from the daemon matched the very description of the so-called "Doom Slayer" just as Malekith watched the knight cut through the corsairs with ease through his witch-sight. The warrior was certainly no pushover. The damage he inflicted was devastating to those wastes of skin, but what caught Malekith's attention the most were the bizarre weapons that the Slayer wielded in battle.
No doubt they were guns as he recalled, but the fact that they could hold so much "ammunition" without the need to stand idle and refill in one sitting was a testament to both dwarfen and human advancements in technology.
And even without the guns, the warrior's battle prowess was unmistakable and far more brutal than even those Norscans that attempted to raid his kingdom from time to time. The fighting style reminded the Witch-King of his youth. When he was still a son of Ulthuan; dedicated to eradicating the hordes of Chaos from his ancestral home.
The sheer bloodlust and scent of copper in the air was all too fresh in his memory. The ferocity on the battlefield was thrilling; in some ways, esctastic even. Not of the accursed slaaneshi variety, but a rewarding feeling no less. Now, while by no means rusty - still in prime shape thanks to millennias of Dhar magic coursing through his veins - the strain in keeping the druchii on a tight leash and defending his seat from both outside and inside his domain gave him little time to practice his swordsmanship. However, the sheer magnitude of violence that was shown rekindled the flame that was long buried and forgotten inside him. Now, it was stirring and roaring with cries for blood and combat.
The blood of Aenarion had reawoken. And Malekith would relish it when the barbarians come crashing through his doors. All thanks to this knight.
However, his ever careful-pragmatism sought to keep his excitement in check and remind him of the present danger. For all of his admiration for the Doom Slayer, he also had to be wary of the threat he posed. On the one hand, the provided evidence he had witnessed could potentially be used against the daemons of Chaos. Based on Tz'arkan's reaction and madness, this warrior would prove himself valuable to the Witch-King's army.
On the other hand, it was clear that the Doom Slayer was no friend to the Druchii. What's worse was that he made himself clear that he already made himself a clear cut ally to the Asur, much to Malekith's disdain. This would prove difficult to have the Slayer switch allegiance to Malekith's side. And if the daemon's words to go buy, no amount of riches nor woman will sway him to the Witch-King's cause.
Which meant that he'll have to resort complete domination over the mythical knight. Whether through strength or magic.
Malekith could only stroke the chin of his mask as he watched the aftermath of Doom Slayer's rampage. Such anger and hate in his movement would nonetheless be useful provided that he could tame him. For every beast captured would come to break and submit to his will... eventually.
For all of his carnage, there was an odd sense of compassion for the weak-willed races. It seemed as if the Slayer had some sort of connection with a freed slave, even. Curious, but trivial.
He soon took his eyes off from his witch-sight as the sound of his doors opening to his chambers brought his attention. Standing before him was Malus, now recovering from his daemon's brief possession. Beside him was Kouran and three other guards; all of whom keeping a trained eye on Darkblade, who was harmlessly pinching the bridge of his nose by this point.
"Milord", Kouran started, "the sorceresses were able to quell the daemon inside Darkblade. What are your orders?"
"You may take your leave." Malekith waved off. "I will deal with Malus from here."
Kouran bowed with his usual stoicism, though Malekith could see him faintly attempt to protest but knew better than to question his lord. The rest of the guardsmen followed suit and left. Only Malus remained in Malekith's presence; visibly strained from the possession but attempting to shake it off.
"How is your head, Malus?" Malekith asked, showing no hint of concern except only for loyalty. Malus continued to clutch his head but responded well.
"Feels as though I had been rammed through a wall more times than it is reasonable, right after getting pissed with black wine." Malus responded, followed by a short apology. Malekith could care less about verbal vulgarity (except when it's too far) and ignored it completely.
"Good. At least I don't have to replace you with a less-than-desired candidate. I can only imagine the number of successors I have to keep replacing before I fully absorb Hag Graef to my own." Malekith commented; hiding little in his condescending attitude towards the Dreadlord. Malus could only grumble, but remained tight-lipped about it.
"Forgive me, my liege." Malus apologized, albeit half-hearted. "This is not the first time the daemon wrestled for control and won. But I have never had this complication before compared to other times."
Malekith could only let a slow breathe escape his mouth.
"Don't torment yourself over such." Malekith replied. "I don't expect you to be rid of the daemon so quick. You've managed it before, and you'll manage it again. What I do expect, however, is to make this be the last incident that involves callous missteps. Remember that, Malus."
"As you will it, my king." Malus replied. Malekith turned away and walked to the balcony.
"You are dismissed." Malekith said. Malus soon departed immediately, not wanting to be the target of his king's ire. Malekith was now by himself. His mother already teleported back to her tower, while Hellebron returned to Har Ganeth along with her followers by mundane transportation.
Good, he thought. For he needed the time to calculate the probabilities of his inevitable fate with the knight. There will be no distractions, this time. Especially with Morathi gone.
(WARNING: Morathi being Morathi as usual)
Tower of Prophecy
"Oh goooooods!"
Morathi was spent from the constant rubbing from her fingers. She was now sweating from self-indulgence and heaved her exposed chest with swelled satisfaction as she watched Doom Slayer slaughter the corsairs like cattle on her bed.
Against all odds, the musclebound warrior somehow managed to be a force of reckoning despite being alone against an entire ship's worth of raiders. And that was before the traitors jumped in and cut down the rest. But even then, the Slayer handled those worthless worms effortlessly.
He was cunning, brutal, and very crafty with his mayhem. His weapons too alien to the eyes but dangerous nonethless.
This was further demonstrated when he invaded the ship. Gods, the speed and reflexes he had were supernatural. The more she kept watching the fight, the hotter and sensitive she felt down her loins. She unconsciously rubbed vigorously until she finally came right around the same time a sorcerous exploded into bloody galore; juices flowing and spraying all over the mirror's reflection. The whole event exhausted her, and her interest in him became infatuation.
"The wonders you could do to me! You will make good use in my harem!" She thought aloud. She was alone in her room with a mirror facing towards her.
Just the thought of him aroused her again with interest; both from a strategic value and for other... purposes.
That said, it would be foolish of her to believe he will be swayed by her beauty alone. A man like him whose sole purpose was war and battle would make a terrible lover.
And what better way than to cast binding wards and seals to make room for such delightful activities?
However, time will tell if he'll be within her clutches. Perhaps he'll come knocking on her doorsteps, even.
"What is mine, I have. What is not, I'll have it. And that includes you, my dear Slayer. No matter how..."
The Faded Silence
The ship, formerly owned by druchii corsairs, was now being manned by the asur, drifting towards the nearby docks to be emptied of its content. Both for supplies and its crew.
"P-Please, we've already surrendered! You can't do this!" A druchii pleaded.
"Let the dead be the judge of that." Replied the Shadow King as his archers executed the pirates with their arrows. Alith walked forward then after as the last of the scoundrels fell beneath his feet; looking on with complete disgust by their existence. He turned his attention towards the Princes.
"There," Alith said. "The matter has been settled."
"For the time being." Tyrion spoke up. "This won't be the last time the druchii will land on our shores."
"Indeed," Alith agreed. "I'll have to increase surveillence immediately."
"My thanks, Alith. Your aid was of much needed respite."
"I am honored, Prince Tyrion. But it was Doom Slayer and Hayden who sent warnings to you." Alith corrected. "Were it not for them, we might have been too late to save this town."
"Which thankfully has been averted." Teclis jumped in. "Besides the damages on the town's infrastructure and Sea Guard casualties, we were able to save the people here from a grisly end. I could only imagine what the cost of our failure would be had we not foreseen this."
"Right, him..." Tyrion trailed off. Teclis could only roll his eyes at his brother's response.
"Brother, you could at least give them the honorifics. It was they who-"
"I know that, Teclis." Tyrion interrupted. "It was admirable of them to hold the line before we arrived. However, my doubts about them have change for the worse."
"Worse? How so?" Teclis asked. Tyrion could only shake his head.
"Don't be so dim, Teclis. Do you not remember how he killed the captain? How horrific he had taken his time to make the druchii suffer under pain of death? It was as if he enjoyed mutilating the enemy before sending them off to the Pale Queen's realm."
Tyrion looked back at Alith. "You saw it as well. Surely, of the times you've hunted in Naggaroth, this was something even you could not stomach!"
Both Asur looked at the prince; not saying a response as they contemplate at what happened earlier. Despite the smooth alliance, they knew what Tyrion meant about the Doom Slayer. For all his help, Doom Slayer was a man of violence. He relished the thirst of combat to an almost excessive degree. Such traits would be too similar to the savage worshippers of the Blood God.
Alith was the first to respond.
"As much as I hate to admit, Teclis, your brother does make a point. Despite being of great help, Doom Slayer seems to possess an uncanny resemblance to the Norscan Bersekers..."
Teclis tried to speak up, but Alith raised a hand.
"However, he still has done more good for us and seems to be more than a simple minded brute. I would even say that he has a sense of... "humanity"... as far as human sayings go, to know the difference between the innocent and the truly wicked."
Alith looked straight into Tyrion's eyes without hesitation.
"In other words, Doom Slayer is a friend to Ulthuan."
Teclis could only sigh in relief at Alith's speech. Tyrion, meanwhile, still expressed his doubts but remained respectful of the Shadow King's opinion.
"Very well, if that is what you believe I will not stop you."
"Thank you, Tyrion." Alith replied. Soon after, Tyrion's squire, Eldyra, approached the three princes.
"Milord, a couple of the Everqueen's handmaidens have arrived to rescue the slaves. They would like permission to come aboard."
"Permission granted. Allow them entry." Tyrion ordered. Eldyra bowed and quickly made her way back to the handmaidens. Suddenly, a bright blue portal appeared before the three. Doom Slayer returned, reloading one of his weapons on the left side before cocking it with the grip. The weapon disappeared after, leaving Doom Slayer empty-handed, but much more than ready for his next mission.
"Greetings, Princes."
"Greetings, Hayden. Doom Slayer." Teclis replied. "I presume everything is in order?"
"Correct." Hayden answered. "When shall we be leaving? My companion is rather eager to get things going."
"We are still deciding." Alith answered. "We are currently prioritizing the supplies and rebuilding. The slaves onboard need to be taken care of, and we need preparations for voyage."
"A sound plan," Hayden remarked. "But time is of the essence. While I do understand the focus on civilians, Doom Slayer is not one for idle hands. The quicker we are to resolve the problems, the faster we set course."
"Dr. Hayden," Teclis started. "I can see where you're going but precautions must be made before you set off to Naggaroth. It is by no means a safe journey. You could wind up dealing with pirates or worse, a hydra or kharybdis." He explained.
"Then teleportation will do. I can set coordinates and we'll be there in no time." Hayden concluded. This only elicit a headshake from the loremaster.
"As convenient as that would be, Naggaroth's magical defenses are nigh impenetrable. Even if you do succeed, there's the likelyhood of raising the alarms."
"I can back Teclis with that claim." Alith answered. "In my years spent infiltrating and routing druchii forces, I can tell you that the magic they possess is a bigger threat to you alone. The sorceress here was one example. Although, everyone else is most likely fair game."
Doom Slayer's only response was to straighten his back while crossing his arms. Alith smirked.
"Buuut I take it this will not be the first dance you've had before." Alith remarked. Doom Slayer shaked his head, much to Alith's amusement.
"Regardless of his flings, I will leave this to you three your own time." Tyrion said. "I will take my leave now. The men will need my guidance. Farewell."
"Take care, brother." Teclis said as Tyrion departed, leaving Doom Slayer, Alith and Teclis to themselves to discuss their plans; moving towards the now vacant captain's quarters.
Unberknownst to them, a handmaiden attempts to listen in on their conversation. Feliceth volunteered in an attempt to gather intel for her mistress. Of course, such a risk may blow her cover and she may have bitten off more than she could chew by this. Worse considering the Shadow King and his warriors were here; making it impossible for her to be in the clear.
Thankfully, she jumped at the opportunity of bringing the thralls back to town under the guise of compassionate qualities.
Foolish for the inexperience, but not for her.
If she could just remain inconspicuous and avoid suspicion, she'll be able to scrounge what she could find.
Meanwhile, another assailant watched intrinisically of the three men conversing; remaining hidden in darkness. The Doom Slayer made quite a buzz for himself now that he managed to not only stop a dark elf raid, but also go toe-to-toe with a sorceress and win. This would certainly impress the Lahmian Queen back home. She always had an appetite for brave and heroic knights.
Of course, gathering the details was difficult when trapped in a crossfire just as the cannons began blasting the town to dust. That proved to be a death sentence for all, but she was lucky to have survived and continued on with her job.
Now, she had to pry for information by herself. With no signs of life-threatening circumstances, at least.
Curiously, it seems that she wasn't the only spy onboard, judging by the way one handmaiden looked at the three entering the quarters. Which was too good to not siphon information. It was like killing two birds with one stone, by this point.
The greater the rewards she thought.
Hag Graef...
The First Dreadlord of the Black Crag sat on his throne in dour mood as he listened to the riots outside of his home. Many of the denizens cried for his blood in response to his madness, only stopped by the guards protecting his home. Bitterness lingered inside Malus' head. The sudden possession and the ensuing massacre left quite a dent in the drachau's infamy.
He already hated the dark passenger in his head, but this incident left him on an even more sour note. Malus' greatest desire was to be rid of Tz'arkan once and for all so he can live the rest of his life without bother. And he needed it badly.
"I know what you're thinking." Tz'arkan spoke. Malus could only growl as the daemon continued to pester him once more.
"Not hear a single word from your vile tongue, Tz'arkan." Malus snarled.
"I said I was sorry! It's not like I was going to have a panic attack in the middle of your bloody paperwork!"
Malus tried his best to ignore the daemon, but Tz'arkan continued to pester him not unlike a spurning lover.
"You can't seriously think you can just ignore me while impending DOOM is upon us? You are in danger! I am in danger!"
"Oh cry me a river!" Malus snapped. "Even if we are in danger, I can for once feel grateful to have finally be rid of you!"
"You are not grasping the dire situation we are about to be embroiled!" The daemon retorted."The Hellwalker is here and we need to leave this frozen hellhole, far away as possible!"
Malus snorted at such cowardly compulsions. He'll never admit it, but it was unlike Tz'arkan to suddenly be so afraid of some unheard nobody. Rather than be fearful, though, Malus couldn't help but feel amused by Tz'arkan's ramblings.
"Don't you even dare think of laughing while I am warning you of our safety!"
"Pah! 'Safety', you say? When has 'safety' ever been your favourite word?" Malus mockingly questioned. Tz'arkan's mood shifted from laughable cowardice to grim tidings.
"Let me show you..." Instantly, Malus was hit with a premonition. Fire and blood filled his vision, and the screams of a billion souls were singing in his ears.
But his ears did not pick up the screams of inferior races, but that of a Tz'arkan's foul brethren.
All of the most abhorrent beings to have existed unified as one. Each of the four corners of the servants of Chaos gathered in an endless horde. But there was something wrong with this picture. Many of their faces did not reveal malevolence and wicked delight. Instead, they expressed a sense of... fear.
This was a first for the Dreadlord. None of the daemons he had faced - saved for Tz'arkan - could express such primordial fears. The visions soon shifted to something else entirely. It was only then did the truth unfold in the next vision.
Standing opposite of them was not an army, but a man.
A warrior. Alone and surrounded by a uncountable daemons, with nothing but a sword and armor on his back. He wore a dark green armor that was completely unidentifiable by design, and carried a blade made of what could be described as solid fire made manifest. Yet, this same man exude the sense of dread that even a bloodthirster wouldn't dare cross paths.
In moments, the horde began rallying themselves to a fearsome battlecry before charging towards the man with malice. The man, in turn, did as well; charging in what would surely be his foolish demise. Instead, a spray of limbs and blood came. Not from the man, but the daemons.
One dead daemon turn into ten. Then a hundred. A thousand. And not long after, a million dead. By the time the battle ended, a sea of corpses had covered the lands; not leaving a single inch uncovered without mutilated guts. And standing above the red sea was the lone warrior himself.
Covered not in his blood, but his enemy's. And behind him glowed a blood red symbol. One full of rage and hate. An insignia of destruction.
No one in recorded history save for Aenarion could stand against Chaos unless united as an army.
None but him.
The visions soon stopped. Malus felt his head was about to explode as he suffered one hell of a migraine just going by looking into the visions. He almost lost his footing once he was back to reality, but kept his balance on a nearby wall. His blood was running down one passage of his nose before wiping it off with his own gauntlet.
"Now do I have your attention?" The daemon rhetorically asked.
"Clearly," Malus responded. "But so what? Any brave fool could stand against your cousins with such iron will."
"Not JUST any brave fool." Tz'arkan spoke with emphasis. "This man is responsible for untold eons of torment for the realm of Chaos. Long before even you and your kin existed. And before that, he had slain trillions of other daemons outside of Chaos. Far more than you could EVER imagine!"
"And I am supposed to be riddled with fear? Those visions mean nothing. If anything, this man is more than likely one of several misguided worms that crawl upon this wretched realm. And if we ever were to cross paths, I will cut him down with the Warpsword of Khaine with hate. And with hate-"
"All things are possibleblahblahblah." Tz'arkan interrupted with a mocking imitation of his vessel's creed - much to Malus' ire - before sighing with bored annoyance.
"Really, Malus? Do you really you have to keep repeating that? Come on, now. And by the way, your "hate" is but a adolescence's hormonal phase to the likes of the Hellwalker's rage. See how that goes when you're alone in a room with him. I'll wait."
Malus' skin went from pale to slight red in outrage. However, there was no way he would be able to lash out at the daemon, physically. So he simply resorted to his most common comeback.
"S-Shut up, daemon!"
"When has that ever stop me?" Tz'arkan proudly retorted. Malus had gotten up from his seat and made his way down the halls to where the riots were being held. Tz'arkan sighed with sincere defeat at being ignore.
*sigh* "Malus, the Doom Slayer is not someone you could easily trifle with on any battlefield. Chaos had the misfortune of dealing with him, and look at what's happened to us? We are but a fraction of our power and stuck on this backwater realm!"
"Tragic," Malus sarcastically replied. "And what would you suggest? Have me run off to some foreign land; holding my tail between my legs?"
"Better you did than die a fool's death. Besides, it's probably better than pleading for your life. I've seen several dimwits try to negotiate with promises of power and pleasure. Even controlling him is a total death wish. I pity the fool who tries to ever think of using him for their own ends.
Malus snorted with disdain, passing by a couple of guards who paid little attention to him just as he continued his way. He climbed down the steps of his home and prepared himself.
"I grow bored of these old wives' tales." Malus complained. "Perhaps quelling the mob should mend my mind for a bit."
"If you think that helps, be my guest."
Malus soon exited his home, where a mob had formed in front of the entrance with outrage in mind. But the Dreadlord did not seem to mind it. Whether words or blade guided him, Malus remained confident in his abilities.
Or as the saying goes..
With hate, all things are possible!
Captain's Quarters
The three men put all of their focus on their approach to apprehending Malekith. After some time arguing and navigating through the dangers of Naggaroth, they finally settled with counter defences and alternate routes. Doom Slayer was leaning against a chest directly placed behind a wall near the windows; Alith was hovering over a table with a map displayed on it, while Teclis sat in a chair.
This scene would be fine were it not for the fact that the entire room looked like it was straight out of Hellraiser, Doom Slayer thought.
"So it's decided," Hayden concluded. "We will set course in the early morning."
"Correct, Hayden." Teclis agreed. "Tonight's event has thrust us to push forward for Naggaroth. Plus, with the ship still in good conditions despite the damages - which can easily be fixed with a bit of magic - I'd say this will be very convenient for your travels, Slayer."
"Plus, I'll have to send messengers to alert the Shadow Warriors on the front to rendezvous with us," Alith added. Doom Slayer, out of nowhere, grabbed a piece of parchment, a feather, and ink and began writing something down, before showing it to the two.
Gather all of your men. We'll need some extra help. He wrote. That raised a lot of confusion in the room.
"Help? That... doesn't sound like something you need. Unless it's sorceresses you're dealing with." Teclis remarked. Doom Slayer shook his head and continued writing it.
Not for me. For slaves.
"For slaves...?" Teclis asked before realization kicked in. "You desire to rescue them."
"I don't know if I can send every single one of my men to rescue all of them. And the number of slaves vastly outnumber us. Not to mention, we don't have enough room to take all of them by boat. If so, then we need to rob a Black Ark and be hopeful that there's enough room for them." Alith countered.
Then we use the portals to transport them to safety. Island may get overcrowded so we'll resort to bringing them to Earth. He wrote. Alith huffed.
"We've already explained this: the portals will be difficult under heavy Dhar influence and I'd rather not risk your world to be in the hands of Malekith. I will not allow it." Alith continued.
That's why I need your men in the first place. They find shelter while the Shadows defend their positions. Slayer wrote back. Alith scratched his left cheek as he analyzed the strategy in his stretch. For about ten seconds, he fully relented.
"Very well. Though, I'm uncertain on whether you could actually counter their magic. But I'll bring at least a third of my men." Alith replied.
"Then leave the portals to me," Hayden added. "With the Fortress now relocated, I can access its communications and send a direct call back on Earth. My people will be notified and be prepared for extraction."
"I can work with that." Alith agreed. "But that still leaves us with the Dhar magic problem."
"I'll work on it," Hayden assured. "But not until the main objective has been complete can extraction begin."
"Fine by me," Alith added. "Would you like to add anything, Loremaster?"
"None that could express further provisions."
Agreed. Doom Slayer wrote. Morning, then?
"Morning." Both Asur replied. The three stood up and left the quarters. They were greeted by the sight of Sea Guard and Shadow Warriors patrolling the ship while making additional repairs to it, as well as adding provisions onboard. Former slaves were being herded off the boat, carefully.
Feliceth left just in time as the slaves were being dragged out. It was a close call just as security was getting tight. Thankfully, her blessings allowed her to slip away and get her intel closely with simple scrying magic placed above her; from where the room was located. All she had to do was act inconspicuous and stand in the spot while pretending to monitor the slaves' exit.
She kept walking alongside the thralls to the false queen's encampment; avoiding eye contact with the targets just as she passed by them. Exiting the boat, she sighed in relief and relaxed her shoulders knowing her mission was successful.
As long as she kept to herself without interference, Feliceth was in the clear.
Some time passed, and after arriving at the encampment, she and her fellow handmaiden released the slaves into the Everqueen's care.
"It has been done, Everqueen." She announced in Alarielle's presence, who warmly smiled in return.
"Thank you, Fayeth. And you as well, Neia. Both of you are dismissed."
"Yes, Everqueen." Both women saluted and departed. Feliceth left, walking away from the pained howls and murmurs; while still staying alert around her.
"Pffft. Only a fool would think to message secrets on the job." Feliceth mused. She kept at a normal pace, keeping herself aloof to her comrades as usual. Roaming around the town, the only interactions being that of asur patrolling the empty streets littered with debris, who responded only with a simple nod. Besides that, the destroyed town other than the encampment was void of any life.
She kept strolling until she came across a stray animal. A cat. Black in colour but big and beautiful yellow eyes. It sat in the middle of the street and licked its paw. The little creature must've been owned either by a townsman who left in a hurry and had forgotten it. Whoever its owner was, the cat was certainly lucky to have survived the raid.
"I guess it's true what they say about cats: they do have nine lives." Feliceth thought. The cat soon closed in on her and brushed against her leg. Admittedly, she thought it was adorable but before Feliceth could pet it, the cat moved away and wandered off further away, only to stop in the middle of the street. The handmaiden thought about her duties, but she figured since she was dismissed, nothing was holding her to not retrieve the lost pet. She pursued it at a slow pace, seeing no need to be in a hurry.
The cat walked and turn around corners, with Feliceth not far behind. It was surprisingly slow enough to allow the handmaiden more time to keep track of it; leaving clues to where she would follow. Spending a couple of minutes tracking the cat whilst passing by the Sea Guard inconspicuously, Feliceth located the cat reaching an empty house in surprisingly good condition. It was big in comparison to the rest. At least two stories, it more than likely housed a merchant family living off on trade.
The cat entered through the window. Feliceth felt something foreboding about entering the house. She felt as if something was crawling under her skin. However, Feliceth was not some poor useless maiden. She was a druchii, a warrior of Naggaroth. Not like her pathetic cousins of this Khaine-damned island. She carried a weapon on her always, and there was always her magic she could go back, despite only using it for small utility.
And not being the most proficient with it as well.
Preparing herself with a new frame of mind, Feliceth approached the house with confidence.
The front door was thankfully unlocked, giving her leeway to enter. Inside, it was relatively dark and empty. Feliceth cast a small blue fire from the palm of her hand. The place was now just empty.
There was some food left on a large table, most likely when a family was in the middle of lunch before Tiranoc called for an evacuation. By now, it had gotten cold and was collecting dust by the time she came in. Feliceth continued her search for the cat.
"Pssst! Here kitty, kitty!" Feliceth quietly called out. The only path leads upstairs. A meow was heard, and the handmaiden soon followed the noise. Slowly ascending, and minding the tight halls, Feliceth kept her eyes open to find unusual movement. The hallways had four rooms divided into two on each side; the furthest being on the one end facing the shore.
"Best guess is the cat must've entered the farthest room." Feliceth deduced. She quietly strode forward through the halls. Everything was eerily silent save for her own footsteps. Even though she steeled herself, Feliceth could feel her heart pounding to ridiculous levels. She may not be the most superstitious, but there's no telling if she would be ambushed by one of her own people.
Step by step, she made her way towards the end. She did inspect the first three rooms, though, found no signs of life as she predicted. She approached the final room and strained to hear the cat. A faint purr could be heard, and Feliceth slowly entered. The door was left open, leaving no barrier for her. The room was perhaps the biggest, more than likely made for a couple.
The light emanating from her flame was too dim to visibly engulf the room but partially enough for Feliceth. She scanned the room with the intent of finding the cat, which probably gave her no shortage of patience as she scoured. After a couple of minutes of searching every nook and cranny, it seemed like this game of cat and mice was starting to grow irritating for the Handmaiden. She decided to give up and leave.
*HISSSSS!*
Feliceth jumped back and scream as she saw a blur of shadow jump in front of her. Her flame dissipated as she lost her focus while raising her spear. Moments later, she cast the flame again and searched for whatever thing landed across her. She cast towards to her left flank, only to find the culprit to be rather a mischievous cat sitting on top of a dresser, licking its paw. Feliceth could only groan in annoyance.
"Stupid cat..." She said, spitefully. The cat simply meowed back at her; seemingly not aware of frightening the druchii.
"Ugh, why did I even bother finding you? All of this suspense was for nothing..." Feliceth bemoaned. She quickly turned her back and made her exit.
But before she could, the door slam shut on her just as she walked a few steps out. Feliceth jumped back in shock and now felt her heart ready to jump out of her chest. This time, her fire did not go out and held her spear at bay with only one hand. Eyes scoured the room; looking for possible threats. An inhuman giggle was heard, putting Feliceth on guard.
"Show yourself, wretch!" Feliceth roared defiantly. By now, her voice could be heard from outside, but there's no telling if anyone was nearby. The laughing continued.
"Oh, my dear..." it replied with feminine mockery. "There's no need to pretend. No one will hear you curse."
Feliceth greeted her teeth. She kept looking around to find the source of her tormentor. Right now, it was just her and the ca-
"Wait." Feliceth realized suddenly. "The cat!"
She turned back to the creature only to find it vanish from its original spot. Feliceth tensed up, realizing that she had fallen into a trap.
"My, my, you've grown quite careless. To think someone like you could be so complacent in her duties. But then I suppose a spy wouldn't make such a great handmaiden." The voice continued, much to Feliceth's shock. But the words soothed strangely to her ears followed by a sickeningly sweet smell of berries and crushed flowers. The scent repulsed her, yet clouded her thoughts. It disoriented her. The handmaiden was losing her grip on reality, as well as her spear. But she proved unwilling to the corrupting influence, despite the aroma overwhelming her senses. Her knees were feeling weak with every second passing; her arms grew heavy from the weight of the spear, and her concentration fading as her eyelids become heavy. The world around her began to spin uncontrollably despite her resistance, the scent drowning her other senses with no barrier to block them. Feliceth was so caught up in the strange smell, she failed to realize that she was face-to-face with her captor. Glowing red eyes filled her vision; leaving her in a trance state.
"There. Was that so hard to cooperate?" It rhetorically asked.
At that moment, Feliceth's legs finally gave in; allowing gravity to take centre stage. However, she felt hands carrying her back from further falling. A low hum was heard as if lulling Feliceth to sleep.
"Hush, my dear," It spoke. "Asya is here to take care of you. All you have to do is tell me what you know about our knight, and then I'll let you off without issue."
Suddenly, Feliceth felt a hand cup one of her breasts; fondling tenderly. A moan escaped from her lips, arousing Asya with interests.
"Perhaps I can extend this with a more... personal touch."
From that moment, the world faded around her, and Feliceth's final moments were now in Asya's hands.
Morning
Doom Slayer spent his time waiting for the repairs on the boat by lifting the rubble around the town. The ship's gunnery caused significant damage to the surrounding infrastructures and blocked the streets because of it. The townsfolk returned only to find their homes in total disrepair. However, many of them were grateful for Tyrion's actions and gave thanks to him. He remained and coordinated relief efforts to the Everqueen's camp with Eldyra at his side. Alarielle and her healers made quick work to help wounded soldiers and the newly-freed slaves at the medical camps while Korhil and his white lions searched for survivors trapped underneath the rubble. A few dwarfen engineers that volunteered worked to rebuild the infrastructures and rescue their kin when the news was brought to light. Doom Slayer, however, made the headlines when he began lifting the heaviest of rubble without hindrance. Spectators watched in awe as he began pulling and dragging concrete blocks and wooden beams to the side of the road unencumbered. He worked tirelessly and pulled through, allowing other Asur to rescue what's left of their comrades underneath the destroyed town.
"Damn, Slayer," Korhil admitted. "Seems you're full of surprises."
"The first of many you'll see should we stay longer." Hayden added, eliciting a smirk under the Slayer's helm. Korhil chuckled at the boast.
"Well, try not to make us look useless." Korhil jested. "Can't hog all the women to yourself, y'know?"
Doom Slayer shrugged. Teclis approached the two men.
"Good morning, gentlemen." Teclis greeted. "The ship has been repaired. Alith is awaiting your appearance, Slayer."
Doom Slayer looked back at the White Lion. "It's alright. We can handle ourselves here. Besides, you've done enough lifting around here. Time you went off."
Doom Slayer dropped whatever was in his hands and began his leave. Teclis walked alongside him.
"Wait!" Both men stopped in their tracks and look back to see Korhil catch up to them with an axe in one hand.
"Since you're going there, you might need something handy to deal with," Korhil said as he passed the axe to Doom Slayer. "It might not look like much, but it may come in if you're feeling desperate. Plus, consider this as thanks for saving the people here."
Doom Slayer took the weapon off his hand and inspected it closely. For one thing, it was beautifully crafted. It was the "shorter" axe of Korhil's dual weapons. The axe head was pretty damn large but possibly had enough force when swung, he thought. He hadn't use melee weapons for a long time save for the Crucible and Doomblade. And even then, he always relied on his guns and fists to get the job done. However, he felt appreciative of the gesture. He nodded back.
"'My thanks', he says." Hayden read out his response.
"Anytime", Korhil replied. "And don't worry about me, I have a spare back at the armory." Doom Slayer nodded and both he and the Loremaster departed again.
"Enough time has been wasted and we will have you sailing on course. The time has come for Malekith to be put on... trial..."
Teclis trailed off at the last word. Doom Slayer recognized the hint and knew full well of the disgust in his tone. He hated it as much but Teclis seemed to struggle with his conscience.
"I assure you, Teclis." Hayden spoke up. "We will make the best of the situation. However, the chances of a peaceful negotiation will be slim, and I'm afraid that brutal companion will have to bring the king by force should this meeting go south."
"I pray that will be your final option." Teclis replied with discontent. Both continued forward, paying little attention to the town. It took around five minutes until they arrived at the ship. It still had the colours of its previous owner, much to the Slayer's displeasure, but he supposed it was necessary for the stealth mission.
For Alith and his men, at least. As soon as they reached land, he's going to make some noise for everyone to hear.
The Shadow King stood aboard the main deck, patiently waiting for Doom Slayer.
"We will be sailing shortly. A couple of more supplies and we will be on our way. Any goodbyes before we leave?"
"We do, in fact." Doom Slayer looked back at Teclis and pulled out a small device from one of his pockets.
"This is an earbud, Teclis," Hayden explained. "This device will allow me to communicate from a long distance. Meaning I can call you from Naggaroth all the way back to the island."
Doom Slayer placed the device on Teclis' hand. The loremaster with curiosity and wonder at the earbud.
"How does it work?" He asked.
"Simply place it on your ear. The soft layer will be lodged in your ear canal." Hayden instructed. Of course, the loremaster was having difficulties and applied the earbud rather awkwardly. Doom Slayer stepped in and helped the Asur readjust the device.
"Better?" Hayden asked.
"Much better." Teclis answered. "My thanks, Slayer."
Doom Slayer simply raised a thumbs up in kind.
"As I was saying," Hayden continued. "I can communicate with you no matter where. Should you ever make an urgent call, press the button on the side of it. Let go of it after to allow me to speak. Rinse and repeat."
"Thank you, Hayden, for the instructions." Teclis replied, gratefully. "And you as well, Slayer."
Doom Slayer nodded. Out of the corner of his eyes, he soon noticed a strange hooded figure hiding behind a pack of crates looking towards the two. Doom Slayer took initiative and immediately strode past Teclis and made his way towards them. The stranger took notice of his approach and quickly attempted to escape through the busy crowd. Doom Slayer, however, was faster and grabbed them by the shoulder before they could make a run. A yelp came out and the Slayer realized it was a girl's voice. He pulled the hood out and realized it was Aliathra. She looked at him with a mix of fear and embarrassment and reacted as if she were a tortoise hiding under her shell. Doom Slayer let go and calmed down, easing tensions between one another immediately. Teclis caught up with the two and immediately recognized the Everchild.
"Aliathra? What are you doing here?" He sternly questioned. Aliathra winced at the lowered tone she received.
"I... heard about the attack and decided that I volunteer to help with the survivors." She answered. Of course, that was a lie and both adults looked unimpressed with her. Doom Slayer crossed his arms while Teclis shook his head in disappointment.
"Right," Teclis said. "Then I suppose the guards have turned the other way while you 'freely' walk around without supervision, correct?"
"Yes!" Ali responded. "More or less!"
Teclis pinched the bridge of his nose with an air of annoyance.
"Ali. You know you're not a child anymore, yes? You are expected to uphold your duties as the next Everqueen right after your mother. No more lies. The truth, Ali."
Aliathra pouted but sighed in resignation.
"Alright, I snuck over here right after hearing about a Slayer striking back at the pirates. I wanted to see the aftermath of what happened."
"And?" Teclis drew out. Aliathra rubbed her arm.
"...And I heard about Slayer leaving today. Wanted to say goodbye before he left. I wish we got to know each other."
Doom Slayer rolled his eyes but relaxed his shoulder. Damn kids, he thought. Teclis, meanwhile, sighed.
"Then I'm afraid there isn't much to see. Rather fortunate, really. And while it is kind of you to say goodbye, you should at least come here with proper security." He lectured. "Come, we'll have to return you to Lothern before your mother finds out."
"That won't be necessary, Teclis," A voice spoke, grabbing the three's attention. "I have already been informed."
Doom Slayer and Teclis turned back to see Alarielle - alongside her Handmaidens - and Tyrion standing behind them. Although, this time, the Everqueen was the one to speak while Tyrion remained uncharacteristically quiet. Alarielle approached with a stone-cold expression. While nowhere near as menacing as the Slayer's hateful gaze, he knew better than to go between a parent and her child. Aliathra stood there sheepishly, twiddling her fingers as her mother neared. Suddenly, Alarielle pinched her daughter by the ear before dragging her out.
"Owowow! Mother!" Aliathra whined. "I can explain!"
"Nonsense. I already know enough." Her mother replied. "You left home without any supervision. Thus, causing a stir among the maidens. Then you decided to come here despite the hazards around here, as we have still yet found all the remaining pirates."
"Actually, we've found all the pirates." Tyrion corrected, earning him a hard glare from the Everqueen.
"...But I'll double the patrols to keep searching in case." He sheepishly said. Doom Slayer found that to be odd considering his bombastic attitude. Alarielle smiled.
"Good, now where was I?" Alarielle continued. "Ah, yes. Thirdly, you've decided to snoop around under false pretenses that you were here to help. What do you have to say to yourself, young lady?"
Aliathra whinnied a bit under the pinch. "I-I'm sorry, m-mother!"
"Will this be the last you'll ever try that again?"
"Y-Yes!"
"Good." Alarielle released her grip, letting Aliathra rub her ears, tears almost swelling in her eyes. The Everqueen looked back at Doom Slayer with a bright demeanour.
"Apologies for the scene. I was told you were to leave soon. I am here to give my farewells."
"Thank you, Alarielle," Hayden answered. "It was a pleasure to discuss your people's culture and magic. As it was with Teclis."
"Oh, likewise, Hayden!" She replied. However, she soon dropped the smile. "However, I fear that the voyage will not go accordingly. While you are indeed capable of protecting yourself, I do worry Naggaroth may cause you trouble."
"Worry not, Everqueen," Hayden assured. "Trouble happens to be the Slayer's... approach."
Alarielle smiled brightly. "How assertive! Best of luck!"
"Goodbye, Everqueen. Everchild. Tyrion.
Doom Slayer nodded. As he was about to leave, he took one last look at Aliathra, still cupping her ear. He reached out a hand and gently patted her head, much to the shock of everyone. Tyrion and the Handmaidens were about to pull out their swords but Alarielle raised a hand to stop them, strangely amused by the scene. Aliathra was turning a little red in embarrassment, while Teclis could only stare in stunned silence. Doom Slayer wasn't sure what came of him to make the gesture, but he did somewhat felt sympathy for the girl. He took his hand off and left with Teclis without much fanfare. The rest stared long until both were out of sight.
Walking a bit further from earshot, Teclis spoke up.
"I hope that'll be the last time you'll ever do such a thing. The Everchild is not to be touched. Or given head pats." He warned. The Slayer simply shrugged.
They returned to the ship, Alith standing expectantly near the side port.
"Had your goodbyes yet?" Alith asked.
"Affirmative." Hayden answered. Doom Slayer nodded in turn.
"Good," Alith said. "The last of our supplies has been boarded. We'll be sailing shortly.'
"Thank you, Alith. I must speak a few words with the Slayer and Hayden." Said Teclis.
"As you wish." Alith walked back to the ship, leaving the Loremaster and Slayer.
"Well then, Slayer, Hayden. I believe it's time we separate."
"Indeed. It was a pleasure doing business. If you have further questions, use the earbud. Until then, we will bring news of Naggaroth. Until next time." Said Hayden.
"Likewise." Teclis replied. Doom Slayer outstretched his hand, allowing Teclis to shake in return. "I look forward to our future endeavours."
"As am I, Teclis. So long." Doom Slayer walked up the ship just as Hayden finished his words. The board was removed, and the ship began unfurling its sails. Teclis was not the only one, however, to watch the ship leave. Tyrion and his family watched while Alarielle and their daughter waved goodbye to the Slayer. The ship continued drifting towards the ocean, before disappearing further from the island.
"May the Winds of Magic guide you, Slayer."
The Tower of Cold
Malekith gazed upon the north with neverending vigilance. Chaos was drawing near, and the Witch-King had made preparations for the assault. Many times have they besieged Naggaroth and many times they have failed to ravage the lands of the Druchii. For these lands were under the watchful eyes of not only the Witch-King but the True Son of Aenarion. And Malekith will see to it that the Dark Gods will be crushed beneath his feet.
The barbarians' futile attempts will just be another failed conquest.
Malekith sighed in a sombre mood. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
Once, a proud son not only to his father but to Ulthuan itself. He wanted to live up to his father's legacy and protect his home from the vile daemons. He was even willing to lead his people as the next Phoenix King just so he could march north and end the blight once and for all. All to safeguard his home.
But the Princes, damn those fools, gave the crown instead to Bel Shanaar. To his admission, Malekith took the replacement with stride and for a time, he had instead taken to venturing the outside world, where he had made vast discoveries over there. But time erodes, and with Malekith, his noble heart turned to envy and arrogance. And in his arrogance, Malekith took to poisoning Bel Shanaar... and step into the Fire of the Phoenix.
But the Spirit of Asuryan rejected him. Unworthy of his deeds, Malekith was forever scarred from the flame - skin permanently burned and charred despite ages past - and banished along with his mother and followers, where they would spend thousands of years residing in their icy kingdom of Naggaroth. Forever plotting against the traitors who cast them out from their home.
Now, all Malekith could do was reflect on his past. How things could have been different had been the Phoenix King. Alone.
"My son... why let this grief consume you?"
Malekith froze. He turned to face the voice only to find nothing.
"Why take your anger on your own people... when the fault lies upon you?"
"Who said that?" Malekith snarled. "Show yourself! And face me with whatever dignity you have left!"
No answer was given. Only silence.
As Malekith tempered the fire in his blood, a dim glow was made present.
"Would you dare raise your sword against the one who breathed life into you? Your own blood?"
Facing the intruder again, Malekith turned with magic in hand, only to stare in shock at what greeted him.
"...Father...?"
"Hello, Malekith." Said Aenarion. "It has been a long time since I... since I have left in your mother's care."
His form - still in his prime, wearing the armor he had worn in his war against the forces of Chaos - stood not proudly, but solemnly. His eyes, however, were heavy with guilt and regret as he looked upon Malekith - his son - in his twisted form. Malekith, meanwhile, composed himself and made eye to eye with him. Though, he strained to look into his father's eyes with all of his wills, while also hiding his shame behind his mask.
"Indeed." Replied Malekith. "Why have you come here? Of all times?"
Aenarion sighed before speaking. "Is it wrong for a father to see his own child? Let alone see what he has become?"
Malekith was seething. The first words that were brought in this reunion were shame? It deeply wounded him to hear them.
"I am a king, father," He said with conviction. "I have brought order and discipline to my people. This kingdom follows my word... as I have with yours."
"What you have brought... is nothing but suffering and pain. To them, to the rest of the world, and yourself. Your words deceive them... as it has to you." Aenarion deflected as if a dark imitation of his son's words. Malekith's lips tightened.
"What reason has given you to visit your son? If not to scorn me, then what else?" He asked, keeping an eye on the north. Aenarion thought carefully of the next words to come out of his mouth.
"I... have come here to warn of the apocalypse that draws near. You and everyone in this kingdom will not survive."
"Heheheh..." Malekith laughed grimly. "That's the second time I've been told of it. Mother said the same earlier. I worry not, for it will be just another failed raid."
"But you should," Aenarion warned. "This is no meagre raid. It is an invasion. No one will survive this torrent. Not you. Your mother. No one... unless you unite Ulthuan as one."
Malekith snarled at the name. "And what would you have me do? Bow and prostrate myself to the princes? Where they will show mercy by separating my head from my shoulders? It is a foolish endeavour."
"But it is the only way that the world may yet survive a terrible fate." Aenarion continued. "Finubar is dead. And Ulthuan is without a king to lead them."
"I know." Replied Malekith, already made aware of the king's death in Ulthuan through his spy network. "And I say good riddance. It will make conquest all the more smooth knowing that they are headless and squabbling amongst themselves."
"You will not raise your sword against our people!" Aenarion chided. "They do not need a tyrant at the helm! They need a leader to look to!"
"Yet I was the one that protected them from the creeping darkness that plagued them thousands of years ago. While Ulthuan grows bloated with their own petty squabbles and poetry, I remain here tirelessly vanquishing the Enemy to preserve what is rightfully mine through conquest!"
"And what of the innocent? Of those who you send armies in retaliation when they could not defend themselves? Why shed the blood of our kinsmen?" Aenarion questioned.
"Because they denied me!" Malekith lashed out. "They denied me as their rightful ruler! The Son of Aenarion himself! Who was there to defend them when the Defender himself vanished?! Who protected them when Chaos returned and ravaged their home?! IT WAS I! MALEKITH! THE TRUE KING! I WAS THE ONE THE COURT SHOULD HAVE CHOSEN! THE ONE WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN EMBRACED BY ASURYAN HIMSELF!"
"They denied you because you killed their king!" Aenarion retaliated. "Poisoned him when he was to be the next in line! Asuryan rejected you because of this monstrous act alone!"
"You think of me as a monster...?" Malekith replied, wounded by his father's words. "I did all of this... to make you proud...! To live up to your name!"
Before his father could speak up, Malekith ripped off his mask in rage. And whatever anger Aenarion felt was washed away as he could only look on in horror at what was left of his son's face. Skin blackened by the fires; crumbling and oozing with painful blisters. Half of his nose was missing and the lips were almost gone, leaving a near-permanent grin behind.
The only ones that barely changed were his eyes. Eyes as green as emerald that burned brightly with hate and torment. And through it all, Aenarion could see the heavy burden and pain his son had gone through all these years.
"Tell me, father..." Malekith started, his voice almost cracking. "Do you still consider me a monster..? For trying to measure up to you? For believing that I alone could protect my homeland?"
Aenarion was speechless. He closed his eyes, pained by the sight of his son's scars. This only angered Malekith further.
"...TELL ME!" Yelled Malekith. Aenarion slowly opened his eyes. No longer did anger consume him. Only remorse.
"...I taught you in the way of the sword so that you may one day protect not just yourself... but of our most sacred home. Your mother... despite the darkness in her heart... taught you magic because she believed that you were gifted with the blood running through your veins. But what we-... what I... should have done... was to raise you as my son."
All of the anger inside Malekith vanished. But the bitterness yet remained. He cast his eyes away from his father.
"Leave now." He simply said. "We are done here."
Aenarion remained still until he found his voice.
"...A harbinger will come... and he will give you an offer. Accept it... for there is no other choice but oblivion..."
"I said... leave."
In the midst of it, the door to his throne swung open and approaching was his loyal guard Kouran. Blackhand stopped in his footsteps, initially confused by his lord's order. Malekith was facing directly to the north and stood still. It unnerved the Black Guard but there was an urgency that needed to be addressed.
"Sire? Were you speaking to someone?" Asked Kouran. "I have urgent news, but I can return another time."
"No. It is nothing... I was simply alone with my thoughts." Malekith responded. "What news do you bring?"
Kouran gulped but cleared his throat.
"Sire, I have received news from the shades that the watchtowers from the north have been destroyed. The warriors who've attacked them bear the symbol of the Blood God. They outnumber us, my lord. Shall I raise the alarms?"
"Hmm..." His king hummed. Malekith placed his mask back on and turned to Kouran. "You have my consent. Have every soldier armed and ready. And alert the other towers. Tonight, war comes to us."
Kouran nodded and bowed respectfully before. Malekith called upon the Destroyer and made his way out.
"On this night, I will show Khaine that I am worthy, and sing to him with the screams of my enemies."
Blodfest - Danheim
North of Naggarond
A darkshard screams in agony as the spear, Slaupnir, is pushed further into his guts. Valkia could only look in disgust at the wretched elf beneath her.
"Ugh! A skull unworthy to Kharnath! How meagre of a gift to send." She said before wrenching the spear out and taking a wide arc to the neck. The scream ceased and the head went flying off elsewhere on the snow. The bloody skirmish around her was dying down now. What few dark elves there were made a run for the trees.
Cowards, they were. She would have sent her most precious hounds to go after them, but she quickly reconsidered it to be a waste of time. Besides, this was a much-needed exercise for the berserkers. The time spent chasing across the south has made her army restless and hungry for combat. And with the cowards retreating, that meant an even bigger battle, meaning more worthy skulls to gift to the Lord of Brass. Valkia smiled at the prospects. The End Times draw and the world will drown in the blood of the weak.
She surveyed the battlefield. The latest watchtower was engulfed in flames, while marauders and berserkers continuously search for bodies to sink their axes into, screaming for the glory of Khorne himself. However, rather than join the revelry, the Gorequeen set her sights on the Black Towers beyond the treelines.
The tallest could be seen several miles from where she was; the tip almost piercing the heavens above. However, she knew fully that it was a mere illusion of the distance they were in. In truth, they were still a long way to go arriving at the gates. Valkia was ever annoyed with the reality of the distance between them and glory!
At the very least, her shield shut up for once.
"Brothers of slaughter!" A voice rang out. Valkia turned to see Wulfrik gathering the attention of every warrior in the midst of slaughter.
"We draw close to filling the Hound's cup with blood! And within it, the blood of the elves shall sake Khorne's thirst! Those weak milk-drinkers hide behind their thick walls for comfort! But no wall will stop us... for Khorne has given blessings to our cause! Praise to the Blood God!"
The warriors cheered on with reckless abandonment. Valkia snorted sharply at his speech. Although, to her admission, he sure knew how to boost morale from time to time. And a party as well.
Suddenly, a shadow loomed over her from behind. She looked up to see one of Khorne's most prized champion and fellow butcher.
Arbaal the Undefeated.
He sat still on top of his mount, a prized flesh hound bred by none other than the Brass God himself, and looked down on the Gorequeen.
"Do you not wish to join the slaughter, Valkia?" He asked. Not out of concern, but more questioning in her odd behavior. It pissed her off to no end that he was staring down at her from his position.
"Arbaal," She greeted first; barely hiding the contempt in her voice. "Still surprised that you would join my army. I figured you would be in Ind like Wulfrik."
"With the rest of the North still in disarray, such opportunities are now limited." He answered, to which Valkia agreed.
"Hmm. Agreed." She said. "And to answer your question, this 'slaughter' is not fulfilling enough. Each watchtower we go, we have so little blood to shed in His name. The prize is not within our reach, just yet."
"I can agree to that. Hmmph." He hummed. "The elves, despite the Wanderer's claims, are worthy tributes to Khorne's name. But I am eyeing something for Khorne's attention."
"Oh? And what would that be?" She asked accusingly. Despite the helmet being in the way, a smirk resonated behind it.
"You know what lurks beyond the dark elves. In the realm of Alfheim. You're not the only one seeking it."
She grimaced. "Then you understand the threat, haven't you?"
A dark chuckle was heard. "Has the Gorequeen herself suddenly feel so easily frightened by superstition?"
"Careful with those words, Arbaal!" She snarled, her spear now aimed at his throat. "Unless you would like to be unseated and be fed to your own hound, then I advise you to be extremely cautious of the next words that come out of your tongue!"
He looked impassively at her but his hound made the lowest of growls at the perceived threat.
"I meant no offence, Gorequeen." He said with barely an apology. "I meant it in healthy competition. We both wish to please our master. And I intend to give the greatest of prizes in His Name."
"And I intend to make sure that you do not insult me again." She threatened. "Piss me off for the final time, and your skull will be His ashtray."
"I understand." He concluded, before riding off elsewhere. Valkia was irritated by the conversation but eased herself with another stab on the corpse.
"Gorequeen!" A voice called. This time, it was Wulfrik again. She could only grumble again at the witless warrior.
"What do you want, World-Walker?" Asked Valkia.
"No reason but to give thanks, of course!" He proudly said. "With you at our side, our army shall see glory when you lead at the front!"
"An honor, I suppose." She faintly thanked. "Any other reasons to bother me?"
"Saw the argument from afar." He said indignantly. "Not getting along, I take it?"
"What business do you have invading other people's privacy?"
"Seems there's a bit of rivalry going on between you and the Undefeated. I take it has something to do with 'you-know-who'?" He answered, indignantly. This did not impress her one bit.
"Leave such matters to me. We will keep marching until we are at the gates of the Witch-King!" She commanded. "This skirmish is only a taste of what comes next."
Valkia soon ascended towards the sky, her wings spreading in their crimson beauty. She could see every face looking directly at her as she took to the skies. Even the Undefeated could not help but stare directly at her from above, which left no shortage of superiority for her.
"NORSCANS! You have all heard the World-Walker's speech, and I can say that to be true for Khorne's followers. But we are not even close to fulfilling Khorne's horn. Naggaroth still stands, and I still see the eyesore that is the Black Towers! Tonight, the rivers of Khorne shall flow endlessly with the blood of elves! And we will be the ones to shed them in His Name! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"
The warriors roared in anticipation. Wulfrik joined in on the revelry while Arbaal remained silent even as his hound howled with the crowd. Valkia could feel no shortage of pride and bloodlust.
"FORWARD!" Valkia ordered as she aimed her spear to the south. The warriors ran forward with bloody fervent and tirelessly marched down south.
No longer did she plague herself with worries. Only did the love of Khorne fill her mind.
"The world calls... ripe for our taking!"
Edit (02/06/2021): So, by now, as most of you know, I've actually decided to combine both part 1 and 2 together.
However, all of this below is just leftovers from part 2. No way I'm gonna waste them so I'm just gonna keep them as they are.
But first, I would like to make a quick and special announcement:
KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV! KISLEV!
AAAAAAAAAHHHHH! THE MAD LADS FINALLY DID IT! THE WINGED HUSSARS ARRIVED! Step aside, Wood Elves! The Khan Queen is here!
*cue Naestra crying while Arahan screeches*
Ahem. Jokes aside, I'm glad CA is finally giving the attention they deserve! I never thought I'd be excited for a game that I am incapable of playing due to my lack of strategic and political maneuvering. Still, I can't wait for Grand Cathay and Ind to get their own roster (if Ind ever does...), and hopefully, we can avert the End Times!
But back to the story, I can only say that this is the final chapter...
Of the first arc. Next time, we are heading straight to Naggaroth, where the Druchii clash with the armies of Khorne!
However, this will be just filler and stuff that I wanted to conclude until the Naggaroth arc ends. But hopefully, this will be the last time we'll see the Asur.
Questions will be answered as usual. However, I also have something to rant about in response to certain reviews (no childish insults, of course, but something that I need to get out of the way).
But for now, enjoy this ending!
Edit: I completely forgot to put an end with boldened words. No changes but the text I'm writing. Anyways, I wanna thank everyone for their responses as usual. I do apologize for the rant below. Honestly, it threw me out of the loop and I needed to blow off some steam.
Also quick announcement: I'm thinking of changing the story title. As much as it was, I want to change it to something short and catchy. However, I'll be doing a poll and leave you the options. If any of them are not to your liking then leave a comment as always. Thanks!
Please leave a review as always. Goodnight.
