A/R:

Aymen El Kadouri: MAKE BRETONNIA GREAT AGAIN!

Remus Torchwik: Sadly, it won't be brought to light anytime soon with how experienced nobles are at keeping their peasants ignorant, the direct servants of the Lady like Morgiana. It may come to light one day, but not immediately

Urus Osium: I wouldn't say that it's at 1 or 2 but it definitely took a hit. Ultimately Repanse and her men wouldn't directly go against Morgiana right away because they understand why she did what she did, plus the Fay Enchantress speaks for the Lady. The problem is they don't like it. And if it happens at continuous intervals it could drop to 1 or 2 with time.

Annoying POW Marine: The Ponyo movie wasn't the direct inspiration, but I can see why you would think so. And though I'm not using the Eldar Farseer as a direct correlation, I can definitely see why you would notice those similarities, especially given the elven roots of the Fay Enchantress. And the funny thing, is Lyle's political maneuvering isn't wholly intentional since genuinely wants to help people, it's just that Morgiana doesn't have the time or patience to completely counter the goodwill the Lichemaster is building up with the peasantry and swiftly dealt with the problem as quickly as she could so that she could immediately deal with Lyle directly. After all, the longer he stays in power, the more peasants he can turn to his side.

Haldir 639: Hey with how some knights within Repanse's army holding sympathies toward people like her, ya never know. Also I gotta admit you brought up a lot of good points about Grom I didn't initially consider, especially the big green boy's sex appeal, I mean the masculinity he emits is second to none. For that I grant him more screen-time!

Immage: Alright, I have to admit, the reference is kinda slipping past me. Are you referring to the Emprah?

Nagash44: Oftentimes our attempts to escape doom and destruction only seem to hasten our descent to it with both Lyle and Alvin whisked away from the Lady. As for your other question, other chaos champions would see Alvin as either a potential ally or a competitor, especially since other schools of Chaos tend to squabble with one another. That being said they would also chomp at the bit of conquering earth in the name of their ill-begotten Gods. As far as the Chaos Gods themselves in relation to Be'lakor would be nothing short of hostile, since they had no intention of allowing him to return to his previous power, especially since if you recall in Warhammer III he had intentions of becoming a God himself.

: correction. ChAnGE is good! And it's never easy to choose between your Goddess and your nation. Especially when that Goddess has given you the power to save your nation to begin with.

100 fires: Damn that line goes hard. Being a fan of Napoleon himself, with both the guy and the game, it'd be criminal for me to not use this! Thanks!

zerkil: You're not wrong about Lyle. As you know he's never cared for religion and he more or less embodies someone in our generation who turns his nose up at it, even if it offends other people. And yes, Morgiana actions were short-sighted, but she's hoping that she can put an end to Lyle before it becomes a longterm issue. Also thanks for your insight about Grom, it only makes me appreciate the guy more, even with how much I already know about him. I can only hope I do him justice in this chapter and the chapters ahead.

rc48177: Shoot thanks for that insight. I'll be correcting that expeditiously. Also I'm not gonna lie, all you guys singing these praises for Grom is starting to seriously tempt me into playing his campaign again, especially since it IS so damned fun with all of the recipes and buffs he can bring with the right ingredients.

Jajo Camello: It's not that Lyle has the ability to destroy souls, it's moreso that he can manipulate them to a certain extent. See Demons don't have souls, because they're pieces or rather shards of Chaos Gods which are manifestations of the Warp. So in a way Lyle was cleansing Rudy's soul by excising the demonic influence that was tainting it. Also thanks, and you have a good day too!

dadg12346: I. Cast. GUN!

Focus of the future: Appreciate the compliment my man! Glad I could impress!

Cannon fire rang out from the dwarven canons that had been brought to the Barrow Legion, making quick work of the straw dummies that were in the distance from the castle battlements. Lyle grinned. It was a few hours ago of practice cannon fire that the cannoneers in question weren't all too coordinated with their shots. With a few adjustments, some experience, and some debate on how best to use them, their hit rate climbed over seventy-five percent.

Indeed. In a way, it was quite frightening how the Crypt Horrors were effective at quickly carrying cannons and loading and firing the dwarven-made weapons. The green hulking mass of muscle and bone could handle this job singlehandedly for what would normally take three or four skeletons or humans to handle, which freed up a lot of manpower for what was to come.

"My only concern with the crypt horrors being used in this fashion is the argument that they're more valuable in the frontline. Terrifying our superstitious foes up close and personal with these monstrosities can be a great boon to us-

"In normal situations, you'd be right, Tobias." Lyle nodded to the spectacled necromancer as they observed the foul, quite frankly horrifying, and monstrous undead amalgamations that were reloading their canons. Four of them, with each one on a canon, could reload each canon with ease due to the absurd strength their experimented condition granted them. "But, the thing is that we're gonna be in a siege. We're gonna be in Castle Bastonne to try and make sure that we can outlast whatever those bastards can throw at us. What's even better is that these big bastards can move around the canons to wherever we need them to be on short notice. Ya know, in case our enemy changes position in front of the castle. With how fast those beast bastards can be, we just might need it.

"Hm. Having more cannons constantly focusing down targets instead of just simply being spread out. Risky…but possibly effective if put into practice." Tobias hummed in thought, surprised by the bout of ingenuity. "Though my only concern would be ammunition since we would have to carry around the piles usually gathered near the stationary canons in question."

"Simple, my man. Just get our big boys here a wooden or iron cart to carry the canons with. Even if they run into some stairs, if we have these crypt horrors work together, they can easily carry a bucket load of cannonballs if they can carry the canons themselves."

"I… hadn't thought of that." Tobias hummed, sounding more disappointed in himself for not coming up with that himself. "Though I must say that there will be those who will be disappointed that our crypt horrors are not crushing and pulverizing our foes up close."

"Well, then, I guess they'll have to settle for being obliterated by cannonball at a distance, won't they?"

"Hm…I suppose so." Tobias wasn't about to argue the point any more than he already had, especially since it was difficult to counter the points made by their Lichemaster. It was just another one of the many changes made throughout the Legion.

Tobias didn't have any problem, so long as he managed to delve further into the secrets and potential of necromancy through the many tomes they crafted, along with the other winds of magic. It was why so many of the more studious wing of the Barrow Legion often followed his lead since he would spearhead the research into the secrets of magic itself.

Which brought up another interesting point. "And just to ensure I heard you correctly from before Master Spoletta, I must inquire…how did you banish that demon from the peasant bo-

"Rudy. His name is Rudy.

"Of course, Master. What form of magic did you use to purge chaos from his body and soul? It could not have been easy, and though it can be done with Dhar, it can lead to lasting damage."

"Like I told ya…or at least what that Shallyan Priest told me. New magic."

"New magic that was derived from Dhar or something else entirely?"

Lyle shrugged, observing the green-hulking crypt horrors as he continued to put them through the paces. "Dunno. Just came naturally to me, is all. Saw some weird shit n' and all of a sudden, I was putting a hurtin' on that demon. You shoulda heard how much a whiny lil' baby he sounded like when I gave him these hands." Lyle snickered, holding up his hands to have them flicker a blue flame emanating from his fingertips."

"Fascinating." Tobias muttered, adjusting his spectacles as he looked closely at the flames. "Utterly fascinating. One could mistake it for the wind of magic often associated with flame magic, yet it also holds a similar color to different winds. Possibly a combination of magic similar to Elven High magic or our own Dhar, perhaps?"

Again, Lyle shrugged helplessly. "I know this much. I know that the dhar that I make goes into this magic. Don't know about the others, which makes it kind of a pain. Again, it comes naturally, but… I'unno feels incomplete ya know what I'm sayin'? Plus, using it is kind of a pain."

"Oh? In what way?"

"Well..think of it like this. Dhar combines several winds of magic that use necromancy, right? Well, this magic-" Lyle said, pointing at one of his flaming hands. "Uses the same philosophy, using dhar and other magic. But it's like putting a hat on a hat since I'm using a combination of magic to create another combination of magic. It feels like I'm trying to stare and focus on two different things simultaneously. I mean, don't get me wrong. I can do it-

"But, it's hardly easy." Tobias muttered, taking out a notebook and writing furiously in it. "It must be doable for you because of the magical gift and affinity granted to you with your summoning, yet the specifics still elude you and us. Utterly fascinating if not frustrating." Yet, despite it being frustrating, Tobias hardly looked annoyed. If anything, he seemed downright excited if his expression was anything to go off of.

Before the bookworm could grill Lyle for any further details, he heard Wendel's voice call out from behind him. "Master Lyle! I-if I could trouble you for a few minutes!"

"Sure, my man! I got a few minutes to spare!" He then turned to Tobias meaningfully. "You got this, Tobias?"

"Yes, yes, of course." The studious necromancer nodded. "I'll test the other acolytes and necromancers to see how they fair and ensure our undead can complete these firing drills. As you are, Master Spoletta."

As Lyle approached Wendel, who moved away from him and urged him to follow, Lyle kept up the pace until he reached the one-eyed necromancer. "Sheesh, what's got ya worked up, my man? Lemme guess, Deni given' you hell? She not givin' you too much shit to do, is she?"

"N-no, yes, I mean, it's nothing that I cannot handle. R-regardless, it's not me she's giving hell to as you say. It's Rucnor."

"The goblin? Oh, dammit, seriously?" Lyle sighed. "Thought I squashed it?"

"You did…it just…well to use your terminology, it re-inflated."

"Of course it did. Awright show me the way. If this is about the damned spiders ag-

"It is."

Lyle just sighed, pinching his nose and following his blonde-haired compatriot. Through the many winding corridors of Castle Bastonne, many bodies, alive and unalive, were hard at work. Canons were being brought up to the battlements by the undead. Supplies were being carried out and coordinated by acolytes. Skeleton warriors patrolled the halls, their glowing blue eyes shifting around like lifeless sentinels, observing for anything that seemed even slightly out of place until Wendel and Lyle finally reached the ground floor outside, where they finally reached their destination.

There, they saw what seemed like a one-sided argument being hard-carried by one side. A group of tribalistic goblins on one side was led by the old and wizened Rucnor, who was shouting and hurling obscenities. On the other was the tall, pale, and imposing Deni, who had a bunch of her thralls standing behind her. All of them kept a hand on their weapons, while the goblins had hands on their own.

"-n't just take silk wheneva' ya want it ya pale humie! Firstly, we need some o' that silk too! Helps with our war bows n' structures n-

"We have a deal meated out with the Lichemaster, the same Lichemaster who was kind of to allow savages like yourself to squat on his land." Deni tutted, cooling herself with an ornate-looking fan and staring down at the goblin in every sense of the word. "You are lucky to even be alive with easily those Bretonnians reportedly cut many of your kind down."

"Luck had nothin' to do with it, ya git! We got here cause o' my cunnin'! Sure' you could say dat about other gobbos but not me! Not when ya last as long as Oi have!"

"Oh? As the leader of an uninspiring and little-known tribe in Artois, that was one of many? I suppose that's something to be proud of." Shen then looked back at her thralls. "From a certain point of view."

If the goblin shaman could cause the undead creature before him to combust, he most certainly would. Instead, he turned his large green nose up at her. "Big talk from a humie hussy whose only here cause her sista's wanted to get rid of her!"

Now Deni's mask of superiority cracked ever so slightly. Her eye twitched, and her lips turned upward in a sharper motion. "Where oh' where did you hear such nonse-

"Awright, back up, kids, back up." Lyle sighed, getting between the two parties and rolling his eyes. "Lay it on me. What's the problem this time? I thought we were over this?"

"We was! Den' she wants to keep takin' what we got till' we got nothin' left!" Rucnor growled and pointed a gnarled finger. "We said we'd give ya half! HALF of da silk we got! We need da rest for our weapons, especially for da battle dat's comin'!"

"And I have concerns of my own. Your silk is more…stringy and stretchy than we though it would be, and we require more to yield it to a viable form-

"Dat wasn't part o' the deal, pale-skin!"

"The deal was contingent on your silk being what we need. We need more to see if it's compatible-

"Dat's your problem! Not mine and not the problem of my boyz-

"Oi!" Lyle roared out, his eyes flashing blue as his voice echoed through the field, getting even the attention of a few stragglers who were on the periphery of this. Inhaling and exhaling, Lyle smiled and looked at both leaders of this discussion, flashing his teeth. "Need I remind both of you that many, many people that are gonna want us dead are almost here? And you're whining like a recently divorced married couple at the worst possible time. Look, there's a time and a place and, mercifully, a straightforward solution to this.

As if to prove this point, Lyle gave a strained smile to the Goblin shaman. Listen Rucnoc. You're right that Deni shouldn't be changing the deal on you, but eventually, you'll have to give her the silk she needs. But, if you really need it for your weapons, why not just help yourself to the armory we got in Bastonne? Even better, once the battle is over and we kick everybody's asses, I'll even let you guys get first pickings of the battle equipment that these schmucks are gonna leave for us."

Now that had gotten the goblin's attention. "For reals?" The shaman said with wide eyes. "F-first pickins of da loot, after all da gits are dead?"

"Anything your tribe can get its hands on, it'll be all yours! I'm not gonna need it all!"

Seeing that the goblin was being placated by such lofty promises, Lyle turned to look up at Deni. "And Deni. C'mon now, you know it's a dick move to just up and change a deal on someone cause of your convenience, especially now of all time? Look, you can get all the silk you need after the battle ends and when we have space to breathe. Think about it! Once we clear things out over here, I'll even see about throwin' some gold your way to get the tools necessary for you to use the silk in whatever ya need!"

The thick, french-accented vampire put a finger to her lips before shrugging. "I suppose this is not unreasonable. It is certainly more reasonable and efficient than what this stunt-

"Deni…"

"Yes, yes, of course, forgive me." The woman tittterd, fanning herself once again. "It's simply the chaos of these past few days they have been most…exciting to say the least." As she continued to fan herself, she raised her eyebrows in realization before smiling devilishly. "Oh, and Lord Lyle? Speaking of the battle to come, you can be relieved to know that our enemies will be frothing at the mouth to maim and slight one another than you in the coming days."

Blinking owlishly, Lyle was about to ask why when he remembered what she was referring to. "So, wait? Your mole is doing their work already?"

"Moles as in plural, my dear. And they do their best work." Shrugging her shoulders and showing off her fangs, the woman batted her eyelashes. "You'd be surprised how fervently some men and even some women will act to gain the favor of my sisterhood. From Imperial nobles to the nobles of Bretonnia, I've ensured that the King is encouraged to butcher the beastmen and the goblins of Grom the Paunch. He's seen a special danger in the goblins in particular, and thanks to my spies, I'll ensure it stays that way." The woman then turned up her nose, beaming in pride. "Dare I say, we've even had success in sewing discontent between the beastmen and the goblins as well, with soon both to blame each other for their misfortunes."

Lyle wasn't the only one impressed. Rucnor looked surprised and then suspiciously at the vampire. "Schemin' schemes? How you makin' dis, happen?"

"It's as I said before, but I'll repeat it to help you along, my dear Rucnor." Deni shrugged. "Many are fervent to acquire the favor of my sisterhood."

Before even Lyle himself could inquire the specifics of her successes, he heard yet another person call his name, making his shoulders sag. The voice of Fredericka. "Master Lyle! There's been an incident with Schmitz."

"Oh, fo-what is it?"

"He's wondering why the crypt horrors are being used on the battlements to fire canons instead of-

Lyle stomped away, marching toward said battlements to see how long he could keep himself from biting someone's head off.

Flopping into the bed of Duke Bohemond's bed face-first, Lyle sighed deeply into the covers, covered in sweat from all the marching up and down the castle, answering this, that, or the other over such tedious disagreements that the earth-native had impressed himself with his level of restraint. He'd managed to go a whole day without cussing anyone out! A new record considering the circumstances if he said-so himself! Where was his damn medal for such a momentous accomplishment!?

Turning over on his back, Lyle let out an easing breath, trying to reign in how mentally frayed he was, looking up at the ceiling of the noble who once ruled here.

Oh, he put on quite a face in front of those who depended on him and constantly looked to him with decision. It wasn't all too different from being QB of his football team… it's just that the stakes were so damned high.

Lyle wiped the sweat that was building on his brow, blearily blinking his eyes. He had no illusions of what could happen if he lost what was to be the make or break moment for him and his little revolution. Sure, he put on a brave face, but once again, the earth native found himself wearing a weight that he knew he could put on his shoulders, but it weighed all the same.

It was all just exhausting is all. So, so exhausting.

He knew he could do it. He had to do it. There were no ifs or buts about, and there was no room for doubt. If he could save Rudy from a damned demon possessing him like this was a scene from the exorcist, then he could ward off three armies if he played his cards right.

IF he played his cards r-

No. No need for those kind of thoughs, they wouldn't do him much good. It was gonna take more than a whole day of people bitching about nonsensical nonsense for his will to break. He'd been through worse and would probably go through worse still, but it would all be worth it in the end. It had to be.

Even aft-

*Knock* *Knock*

"I'm busy." Lyle grumbled, not wanting to deal with any more nonsense for today.

*Knock* *Knock*

"Seriously, piss off."

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

"Grave guard tell whoever's at the door to piss off, would ya?"

"The Lichemaster has instructed me to inform you to pis-

"Spoletta, I know ye can't lose these sturdy boneheads right now. Don't give me a reason, would ya?"

Widening his eyes with the weight of the world suddenly lighter on his shoulders, Lyle sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Nalga?"

"Nah, the uppity cold-blood with her hangerons, what do ya think?"

Suddenly realizing how sloppily dressed he was, Lyle scrambled about, trying to get something that looked something halfway decent, only to realize how stupid that was. All that he knew of was that the clothes inside the Duke's were far too large for him to put on, and what was even worse was that he was unaware of any of the tunics that looked due to the old medieval style being utterly alien to him.

Rolling his eyes and deciding to throw caution into the wind, Rick tried to pat down his hair and make himself look presentable, only to half stumble to the door. Opening it and looking down, Lyle saw the red-haired dwarf looking up at him questioningly with some boots and a leather apron, exposing her arms. "Ya look like ye got raided by some hobgoblins."

Lyle snorted. "My subordinates might as well have hobgoblins with how I've had to run around and deal with their bitching in moaning."

"I can imagine. You can imagine how dwarves can be when ya throw a bunch of 'em' in a room together without any beer to cool their tempers."

"To cool their tempers? I've seen people get enough of it, it explodes into brawls."

"Aye, it can get to that point." Nalga shrugged, smiling knowingly. "But, that can often be a better alternative to constantly hearing longbeards grumble endlessly. Better to let it all out, sometimes."

"That's why you came here?" Lyle asked cockily, leaning against a door. "To help me blow off some steam?"

"Oh, get off your personal high, Spoletta. As if I'd want to get tangled up in those long, gangly limbs of yours." The dwarf snickered, shaking her head. "Just thought I'd work on something on the contraption that the Bretonnian Umgis here call a forge."

"So what're ya buggin' me for? Unless you need directions from lil' ol' me?" Lyle jabbed with a smirk.

"As if. Can't reach some o' the shite that these Umgi's set up and I need a set of hands." She turned around and showed him her back. "If ye don't wanna come and laze about ye can do that. Invitations there, if ya can be bothered to keep up."

Staring at the dwarf's backside as she bustled her way toward the forge in question, Lyle suddenly found himself greatly motivated to follow suit, the earlier exhaustion and weariness he'd been feeling suddenly nonexistent.

"One bloody week? That's it? You crumpin' me?" Grom glared down at the elven woman, sharing his large war cart, half in anger and half in disbelief. "Da raids been takin' dat big of o' toll?"

The elven woman in question had short black hair, sun-kissed skin, and calculating grey eyes. Around her neck was a silver collar, gained from the Elven home of Ulthuan, ironically enough, which rested snugly just above her collar bones. Strangely, despite being a slave, she wore noble-leveled elven clothing from Tor Yvresse, showing off the province's white and blue colors as she held a clipboard and parchment while scrutinizing the numbers, not showing much if any, fear in the face of Grom's wrath.

Eventually, she looked up at the fat goblin with a sigh. "Afraid so your Immensity. The beastmen raids against your rear have sapped a great deal of your food and supplies, which will only make your next battle all the more crucial. Unless you order your me-err boyz, to go foraging, which obviously wouldn't be wise with the beastmen situation, you have one week until your warband begins to collectively starve."

Grom wanted to open his mouth and shout and reject such notions, but even he couldn't refute what he'd been seeing these past few days. After those first few initial beastmen raids, he'd been having his boyz fight fire with fire, bringing the heads of those horned humies with a vengeance. Sadly, all this seemed to do was urge further retaliation from the children of chaos who were all too skilled at hit-and-run tactics, smashing their wagons and caravans, in some cases, not even bothering to take the food or prisoners, bent on making their lives miserable.

"Ohhhhhh, if Oi, get me hands dem' horny humies…" Grom spat, gnashing his teeth together.

"Eventually, yes, your immensity. But, remember, if we can't take the castle-

"Yeah, yeah, Oi've ear'd from a lot more smarter boyz dan you, pointy ear!" Grom huffed. Speaking of smarter. "Zulz! How much further!?"

The night-goblin mascot, who'd been hanging off his banner, looked through a pillaged telescope, sticking a tongue in focus to see what was beyond the trees and hills they traveled through. "Not far now, boss! Just a bit more marchin', and we'll be right on em'!"

"Finally! We've ridin' for so hard we barely got to stop for some grub n' a rest! N' what a crime dat woulda been! Can't go killin' humies on an empty stomach after all! 'Specially the dead ones! Even afta' ya take off dere' heads n' mount em' on a pointy stick dey still might come afta ya!"

"But boss! Dat just means dat da scraps gets to be longer doesn't it! And the boyz are ichin' for one instead of all this hit n' run crap wit da horny humies!"

"Normally, Oi'd agree wit ya, but ya clearly got some shroom cheese in ya ears ya git!" Grom grumbled, looking around his army as it continued to march forward around him, eager to finally get a castle to hold up in. "We don't got much grub n' gubbins to last off of, n' if dis' turns into a scrap we lose den' green meat's gonna go back on da menu!"

Zulz gulped audibly, with even a few other goblins warily looking at their boss, not seeming too eager to contribute to said green meat, motivating them further for the coming battle. "U-understood boss! Quick scrap it is!"

"Speed will be of the essense, Grom." The elven woman noted. "With how frequent the raids have been as of late, the main beastmen tribe can't be too far from our position, and if we tarry too long, they'll be more than willing to come in and finish the job."

"Tell me somethin', Oi, don't know!" Yet her words rang true all the same. Grom couldn't deny that he was between a rock and a hard place, but he'd been in tougher scraps than this! He didn't make it from Ulthuan and survived having constantly regenerating troll flesh in his gut, only to die from some horned humies! No! He had some tricks up his sleeves, after all.

But the reminder of how much of a pain those beastmen had been in his side only brought another question to the Goblin Boss's mind. "Say, Simmire? Just how many times have those humie gits hit our boyz?"

"The amount of raids? One moment if you would." Simmire, the high elf, requested, flipping through some of the pages on her clipboards before her grey eyes rested on a number, her lips thinning considerably. "Twenty-three times."

For a moment, Grom said nothing, which made the boyz around him nervous and the enslaved high-elf himself, his fat fingers thumping against his war cart before he barked out a name. "Rix!"

"Y-yeah, boss?" A goblin who was riding near the moving black pot that human and elven slaves were constantly working on was being pulled via a moving platform and boars. Rix the goblin was wearing a chef hat and dirty apron, wringing his hands together nervously. "Wh-what can I do for ya?"

"Look through moi, big book o' recipes n' see what Oi got cooked up for beastmen." Grom then licked his teeth and his lips in short order, his beady eyes glaring straight ahead. "I'm thinkin' some mutton chops topped off with shroom cheese. See about rummagin' around if we got da ingredients for dat."

"A-and if we don't?"

"Den, get creative! You're one of moi sous chefs, ye tellin' me ya ain't up for da job!?"

"Y-yes, boss! Absolutely your Immensity!" The goblin stammered, scampering off to one of the human slaves. "D-don't just stand there, humie! Help me get da book. Do ya got any idea how big it is!?" As Rix badgered the cooking slaves to peruse through the recipe book, Grom was about sighin' annoyance, his hackles raised by the nuisance these beastmen had proven to be.

Oh, the delicacies that he would make out of their hides alone. If it wasn't for them, he wouldn't even be worried about the coming ba-

"We're here, boss! We're here!"

"Wait, wot? Dat fast?"

"Like I said, boss! Real quick!" Zulz cackled, gesticulating on the flag with a big grin. The news of it traveled fast down the ranks of the goblins, and Grom leaned forward, squinting his beady red eyes, and sure enough, just past some more hills, he saw it. A massive and fortified castle with that was just asking to be sacked! But in this, Grom would settle for making it his new base of operations and maybe callin' himself Duke Grom in the process since humies in these lands were so fond of the title.

Grom grinned savagely, his belly rumbling for a meal and a reprieve. And it just so happened that he could get all in one fell swoop once he got done with these undead humies!

"-nsity…Warboss Grom."

Realizing that the Simmire was talking to himself, Grom rolled his eyes and glared at his logistical slave. "Wot, ya point ear!? Can't ya see I'm da moment here!"

"One of your wolf-rider scouts was trying to talk to you over the commotion. They sighted more beastme-

"Oh, for da love of Gork n' Mork, when will dose horned, furry git's just gonna-GAH! Where'd they raid dis time!?"

"They're not raiding, your immensity!" Simmire said forcefully. "They're on the opposite side of us! Lining up near the castle just like we are!"

The warboss felt his big maw go agape. Surely, that couldn't be true. A bunch of beast humies outrunning him? The great Paunch!? Were they sneaky stealin' his ideas now!? What would Mork think that some chaos-tainted humies were acting more cunningly brutal than him!?

Grinding his razor-sharp teeth together, eventually, they completely broke the treeline, and what Grom saw made him howl with indignation.

Thousands upon thousands of beastmen teaming out of the trees opposite of him, slightly quicker on the initiative even after taking time out of their day to give him and his boyz hell. Where was the justice of it all!?

Glaring at the beastmen and the castle they were now facing, Grom grabbed his fabled ax, Elf-Biter, and hefted it over his shoulder. "Oi, Knife-ear. Ya might wanna bugger off n' head towards the back. Moment I give the order, I'm collectin' heads AND the pound of flesh these gits owe me." He then turned around and faced the rest of his mighty tribe, raising Elf-Biter in the air. "N' whateva' is left of any of em', is goin' straight into me pot!"

Now faced with an enemy that was no longer skulking in the woods and picking them off, the goblins and other greenskin creatures that were along for the ride bellowed and cheered, letting out a mighty Waaagh as they screamed for bloody violence that they could dine on in earnest.

"Don't stand that close to the water, ya damned umgi! You'll get burnt from the steam!"

"I ain't that close!"

"You're close enough, that's for damn sure!" Nalga grumbled forcibly, pulling Lyle backward with a strength that surprised the earth-native after they dropped the heated metal into the water to cool it rapidly. She nonetheless smiled and chuckled. "Did ya see the way you were holdin' it all wide-eyed and panicky? It's like you were tryin' to speak with the hammer, pleadin' with it, 'Oh please, my mighty hammer! Don't burn me after all the trouble I went through, smackin' ya into shape now! That'd be a mighty shame!' If this is how all you umgi use smithies, then it's a wonder you've all lasted this long!"

"Hey now! I'll have you know that I think I've acquitted myself pretty damn well, considering I ain't even been in a forge up until now!"

"Seriously? Never?"

"Never."

"An' they don't got any back at your world?"

"Well…not like this? And I've never needed to be in one, that's for damn sure."

"Damn, sure? More like damn shame!" Nalga shook her head as she waited for the steam to ease itself in the water before peering down at the hunk of metal to see it cool. "Can't call yourself anyone if ye haven't been in a forge before and handled the smithy! Sure, couldn't call yourself a dwarf!"

"Well, I'm glad we don't have to risk that kind of confusion then, especially the extra inches I got on ya."

"For all the good that does ya." Nalga sniped back. "Bigger target, more metal ya got waste on makin' armor."

"Hey, now. If things start to go south, at least I can make bigger strides of running away."

"Pah! Figures ye even entertain the idea of runnin'!"

"Well, it's not the idea that I'm running from a fight now! I'm just running toward future victory! It's how I turned things around against Bohemond, after all!"

"Didn't he wind up catchin' ya anyways?" The dwarf asked, flashing her teeth before elbowing him in the ribs.

"But, I won in the end. That's the important part."

"Ye seem to have a knack for that, yeah." Seeing that the metal had cooled, Nalga pulled it out and set it on the worktable. With the metal clearly still warm but obviously cooler than before, the female dwarf clicked her tongue, admiring the hammerhead that was being forged to perfection, at least in her eyes. "Almost done wit' it. Just need to get the proper steel shaft and disk so that it can be swung around by those big and long gangly arms o' yours."

"...I appreciate the help, Nalga. Really do."

"Well, if you go n' get yourself killed, then I'll have to pray to my ancestors that your successor cares even half as much about my hold's safety as you do. Just lookin' out for me and my people, really."

"Yeah, sure." Lyle shrugged, not sounding too convinced.

"Sure? Sure. What ya mean sure, I have been around plenty o' grudge bearers to know sass when I hear it, Umgi!"

Changing the subject, Lyle side-eyed her as he poked the hammerhead, feeling the warmth of it with fascination. "You confident in the boys n' girls I asked you train up? You think they can handle themselves?"

"Oh, aye! They can handle themselves so long as they got plenty o' distance between themselves n' anythin' that can tear them limb from limb! Some of em' can even fire in unison without hurting themselves miraculously enough! Even convinced some not to look down the barrel of their guns, as if they were Grobi hopped up on shrooms!"

Lyle cringed. "Well…at least you're making progress."

"Oh, I never said I wasn't makin' progress. Just depends on how much you want to interpret what I did as such! You can eventually get a malfunctionin' gyrocopter to start workin' right by bashin' the engine with a wrench a few times, but it's hardly the smoothest way to do it." The dwarf rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Just make sure you got somethin' between them and all the people they'll be shootin'. Give em' a reason and they might accidently pump led into eachother before they intentionally do it to any Grobi or Umgi knights."

"Noted."

"Well, even if you wouldn't necessarily give the flying colors, I appreciate you giving them the ol' College crash course. It'll make a huge difference."

"Ya better hope so." She then pointed upward, jabbing a thick and gloved finger into his stomach. "Ya better not die so easily, Spoletta. My pa still has a grudge he's gotta settle with ya, and if he can't iron it out with you, he'll do with your kin."

"Psh. I wish him luck, then. My family might as well be in a different plane of existence."

"Haven't ya heard? We dwarves are more stubborn than any stone we dwell within. We see what we want, we're gonna get it, even if it kills us."

"Speaking of killing, when are ya gonna book it? These guys are gonna be here any day now, and I'd hate to see ya catch any crossfire."

Nalga blinked. "What do ye mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" Lyle chuckled. "I mean, you did what you could. You helped train my beleaguered peasants, and you lent a helping hand. Ya did what I asked for, and that's all I can ask for." He then gestured for the door. "To be honest, you might wanna hoof it out while ya can. Meant what I said about your dwarves not having the best strides, you're gonna need a head start before the welcoming party gets here."

To his surprise, Nalga not only went silent momentarily but actually looked affronted, her brows furrowing. "What? Ye think that I can't handle myself?"

"Eh?" Utterly thrown, Lyle blinked. "What? No, I mean you did what I asked you to do, I never asked for you to stay down and fight, all boots on the ground. That's not what you even came here for, to begin with!"

"Well, of course not, it's just." She paused, as if tyring to pull a reason out from her chest. "I just don't care for ya callin' me coward is all! You're bein' assailed by Grobi and Beastly Umgi! Beastly Umgi that could very well be the remnants of the same herd that tried to sack my hold! Ye think I'm gonna run away from a chance to settle a grudge born from them? What would my ancestors think?"

"I think your ancestors would like it if you limited the chance of you holding off a personal visit with them just."

"Oh, so now ye speak for em' now?"

"No, but I think they'd prefer it if you don't go runnin' out to a battlefield like a dumbass."

"Dumb-what now!?"

"Yeah, you heard me!" Lyle near-yelled at the dwarf, feeling his hackles rise. "Seriously? What's your deal? I'm giving you an out here, it's like you wanna just go out there and throw your life away like an idiot!"

"Oh, as opposed to what? I heard about that battle ye had at Riffen and how you barely survived fightin' orc Warboss!" The dwarven woman fired back heatedly. "And don't say ye didn't have a choice! Ye coulda cut n' run, but ye didn't!"

"Yeah, and!? I'm trying to help these people not leave them high and dry-

"They aren't your people, though! You're literally from another world, Lyle!"

"So you'd prefer if I not give a shit about my fellow man!?"

"I'm pointin' out how much of an Umgi-damned hypocrite ye are to you're face-

"Just cause I'm not a hypocrite doesn't mean that I'm wrong, you stubborn ass!"

"An arse? An arse, am I?" She then laughed, looking around herself as if she couldn't believe it. "You…you have some nerve ta call me that when ye can't be bothered to look in a mirror."

Bending over to look at her in the face, Lyle frowned. "And I'll say it again until you get off your high horse and hop on in that mini-copter of yours and piss off. This ain't your fight, and you know it."

"And this wasn't your fight either until ye forced yourself into all of this!"

"My situation and yours have nothing to do with one another!"

"Oh, shove off, Spoletta! What, are ye scared you're gonna lose the fight, and I'm gonna get defiled by those sheep-shaggin' goat-

"YES!" Nalga almost staggered backward, when Lyle grabbed her shoulder and glared what felt like into her soul as his eyes flashed blue for a moment. "I already had someone pay a price for me comin' up short, you think I wanna go through that again!?"

For the first time since the two started trading barbs, Nalga found herself short on words. The fight had been smothered out of her lungs while Lyle heaved and breathed, his eyes returning to normal as he continued to grip her shoulders tightly, looking down at her.

Having been told the tale of what happened to Ave, Nalga suddenly felt a wave of guilt hit her as she stared into Lyle's furious yet concerned eyes. This was followed by a bout of warmth, and she felt his breathing hit her face as he tried to right himself.

Once he got control of himself and a bout of dizziness passed through his mind, he sagged, trying to right his breathing. "I…I can't go through that again; I just can't, Nalga, I can't. Sh-she was so bloody and messy when I found her." Lyle stammered, kneeling from how weak he found his legs to be. "Every time I see her now, I just know I gotta make it right. Make all of it right, Make it…this IS my fight." Looking into Nalga's eyes, there was no give in his look. "You can say this isn't my fight, and these aren't my people all you want. But, if you go down too, especially when you're own people need you, I dunno if I can sleep a-

The earth-native now found himself short on words as something warm and soft was now pressed against his lips. Nalga's lips had hit him with such force that he stumbled backward from his knees, landing on his rump and then his back in short order. The force of it caused the sudden kiss to be broken with her now on top of him, her face looking heated and searching. Both human and dwarf stared at one another again, Lyle taken so off-guards that gargles and half-minded mutterings were all he could garble out.

Nalga looked to be of the same mind before she let out a huff of hot air and looked downright furious. "You…ye damned fool." No sooner after, when she said, her lips came crashing down on his mouth, and this time, Lyle's instincts, experiencing a sudden rushing of blood, took over as he could feel his heart thumping his mind. Nalga was rough and firm, both in body and in movement, as her hands tried to wrestle his hands down, and she actually had a puncher's chance of doing so, showing off a surprising amount of strength that he wasn't prepared for.

But, after he felt her mouth start to bite lightly on his lips and her tongue start to demand entrance, he freed his hands long enough to grab the back of her head with one hand and grasp her lower back with the other, hungry for closer contact and the heat that was growing heat between them.

It was almost as if the two of them weren't in a moment of passionate embrace but more of a passionate wrestling match. While Nalga had the top position and leverage, she was unaware that Lyle had experience in wrestling in intense matches, granted not of this nature but experience nonetheless.

As Nalga mashed her lips against him, Lyle wrapped his legs around hers, which actually was harder than he thought, given how short and stocky they were, but it was more than enough for him to turn the dwarf over and now to be on top, which only lasted for a moment, before Nalga used one of her stocky arms and the shifting momentum to shift back on top, this time holding both of his arms down above his head as she panted hard above him.

Resting her waist on his chest, Lyle suddenly found any of the previous worries locked behind the vault of the back of his mind where they belonged, not at all feeling put off by how determined Nalga was to assert her dominance. She was about to lower her face back down to his.

When the FUckInG DoRE OPEnEd! "Master Lyle! Our scouts have spotted the Orks and the Beastmen!" Fredericka shouted, striding into the room. "I heard how you were working on some project down here, bu-" the necromancer who summoned him to this world coughed and sputtered at the position she found both Lichemaster and dwarf regent in. Nalga looked as though she wanted to tear the poor woman's head off at the interruption, only for the information she belted out to settle.

"They're here? Now?"

Taking a moment to get over just what it was she was seeing, Fredericka nodded slowly, her face going red. "Y-yes. Th-they've just been spotted breaking the treeline."

Suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation, Michael lightly shoved Nalga off, stood up, and patted down his pants. "Sooner than we thought, but it is what it is. Everyone in position?"

"More…or less. We await your orders and directives, Master Lyle."

The Lichemaster nodded. "I'll be up in a moment. Just…give us one?"

Nodding wordlessly, Fredericka seemed almost grateful for the chance to leave the scene before, acting as though she didn't know how to address it or avoid doing so altogether.

After coughing a bit to herself, Nalga flapped her smithing apron, trying to cool herself down as Lyle stared at her wordlessly after getting to his feet.

"I-uh… we'll talk later."

"Aye, we'd better." Nalga's comment sounded more like a demand, giving Lyle a light glare that strangely excited him more than anything. "I'll see ya out there?"

Wanting to argue the point, Lyle sighed, pinching his nose instead. "Only if you don't leave the castle. Don't make me order my undead to make that happen, and we're good."

"I'll get my rifles then." She said with a tone of finality. She seemed as if she wanted to say more, but her brows furrowed instead, and the female dwarf reminded herself of the gravity of what was to come. "Good thing we ain't too far from the top o' the castle." She then moved forward, tossing aside her smithing apron, and headed toward the door, and Lyle was about to follow suit when he felt a firm hand smack his ass, making him widen his eyes and nearly causing him to lose his footing.

"Keep up long-legs! Ye said this is your fight after all!" Nalga moved as fast as her legs would carry her, exiting the room and heading upstairs as Lyle rubbed his behind, feeling his cheeks heat up again.

Putting his 'long legs' to use, the earth-native found a new source of inspiration, adding a bout of energy to his limbs as he moved to the biggest and most crucial fight he was about to encounter up until now.

The fate of Bretonnia hung on by a thread for the events that were about to proceed.

A/N:

And so we finally arrive at the biggest battle thus far within my humble story. A multi-way battle with a Bretonnian castle as the prize, with thousands upon thousands of lives hanging in the ballance.

That being said though, I mean damn! I think this might be the most reviews I've gotten in a single chapter, plus with so much being said that it's been beyond insightful! I appreciate the turn-out from the usual suspects, as well as some standouts from newcomers! I appreciate the feedback, especially at this stage of the story where things are heating up! It's gotten to the point where I'm surprised at how much I'm putting into my reviews.

Also on side-note, for any of my Total War fans out there I highly recommend this channel I stumbled onto by pure coincidence, called More Warpstone, which comprises of a bunch of YouTubers having multiplayer campaigns with memes and narration galore to keep you all entertained, kind of like an After Action Report. Great stuff, especially since they just had a campaign between three American and Three British YouTubers fighting it out on Lustria.

Finally, thanks for all the Grom feedback, since It's now convinced me to use him in a larger portion of this story. I'll see you all next time for the battle for Bastonne to finally commence! Leave those reviews and I'll see ya next time!