Jump to content

Kingdoms


Evz22

Recommended Posts

The warrior crested the hill, surrounded by few of his surviving men. They were, like him, bound in wet cloaks of wool. Rain hammered upon their concealed forms as they looked down at the small, warm hamlet. It was safe from the freezing cold of the region: Farfang was a mining town. A town coated in frost and snow. The windows shimmered like gold from within. Chimneys belched out black pillars of smoke. Minecart tracks snaked around the spiraling timber-framed buildings. The lead warrior sneered and began to limp down a track of the mountainside into the valley that led into the town. His men followed, gripping their cloaks tighter about them. This was a harsh land for such a comforting bit of civilization. Their leader, the tallest of them, cracked into the tavern. Not a single soul within looked to the newcomer save the few burly mercenaries by the door. His fellows stepped in after him.

Vata pulled down his soaked hood as he approached the bar. The man rose an eyebrow at the impressively tall folk. His retinue did the same. They were marauders of Chaos, all. Here in the lands of the Free Peoples. Lightning flashed outside. "Give me three flagons of your strongest wine, and then beer for my men. We shall pay you in meteor, man." The bartender, sweating, rushed to work. Vata leaned upon the countertop. His men chose a table.

"M-may I ask what brings you to these parts?" Asked the bartender, shaken. He saw the axes, the broadswords these wild men carried. A few of the others in the tavern had caught on. There was likely to be bloodshed, as in the past four towns they had passed on their journey.

"My king has sought to kill me in my weakened state. As Sigmar's dogs rushed my city to free their own people, my king decided he wanted my land. He charged in and slaughtered all. My tribe, the Fyreslayer mercenaries, the Aelf warriors. The human soldiers sent to divert my attention. He slaughtered them all. They came in boats of bone and metal, and my beach was covered in fire and craters and blood. None survived. Not even a child of mine." He sucked down the first flagon. "I travel now as a mercenary and hunter. I will build a force with which to slay my ex-king, and murder him for what he has wrought." The man was quiet, and the entire room fell to silence. They had all heard his story, and blades were sheathed. He returned to his table. That was when a rough, bearded man in an oilcloak and feathered hat approached.

"Oi, you looking for work?" he asked.

"I am looking for revenge as you might have heard..." Vata grunted, sucking down his second flagon.

"I know a guy who knows a guy. Could take ye to em."

"Sit."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...

PART I: SPIRES OF HALLOWHEART

 

Fritz found himself in a canteen, drinking warm ale and eating a cold hunk of bread. Varig was elsewhere in the camp, possibly either selling off his wares or procuring new ones, or watching their equipment. The crickets sang outside the large tent and a warm breeze blew in through the tent. The aelf girl whom had carried him out sat at the far end of the table, drinking wine and speaking with other Shadow Warriors of her cadre. The group had been following the Black Birds for sometime, though whether they did it for money, honor or whatever, Fritz didn't know. He stared down at his ale. He was happy to be warm again, and in a civilized land among civilized company. Other Freeguildsmen sat in the canteen, most playing dice and drinking. Though Fritz was alone. None sat to sup with him. It was not due to superstition "he had been with the enemy for far too long to remain untainted," no. It was because though these were his people, they were not his people whom he grew up with. His village, as he had been told by the General, was wiped out by Orruk tribes rampaging in the Ghur mountains, as was the fate of many other tribes and villages around the time. Though they were extended family. He had met cousins, uncles. But many he hardly knew.

A cloaked figure sat before him, passing him a second ale. He peeked upward at the hunter, who raised a brow in suspicion. He did not recognize the figure's chin, nor nose nor eyes.

"Hello," whispered the person, hardly audible over the various drunks and crickets and music surrounding them. "Ever been to Aqshy?"

"Yes- why though? Who is asking?"

"A collective..." he replied quickly.

"A what?"

"A collective is being formed. In Aqshy, we meet at an abandoned mining camp, three miles off from the Shimmering Abyss. It is located in an abandoned quarry.  Much prize is in it for you."

"How do you know me?" he asked, curiously. He was glad this person was straight to the point, at least.

"I don't know anything about you, I obey my master. That is all. I need to leave. The second ale is on me, by the way. Not the master. I trust I have a return message?"

"Yes, when? When and where exactly is this meeting?"

"The quarry is located southwest of the Shimmering Abyss, and will be held in two day's time. I trust this is enough time for you to leave camp? I have received word that the Black Birds company are entrenched here for the coming few months, protecting the border from what little remains of Chaos warbands and beastmen. Aye?"

"Aye..." he chugged half his ale away and wiped his lips with his sleeve. "Aye, I shall be there."

"Come alone, or don't it's up to you but it would be better to be alone."

"You speak in circles, but yes yes. I shall do my best to not drag the duardin along." The cloaked figure nodded and left without another word. Fritz looked at his drink. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

The local Witch Hunter with the camp follower retinue entered the cabin that served as Fritz's quarters. He crossed his arms. Bolk was a heavyset man for a witch hunter. He had to duck to enter the shed. "You are leaving?" he asked.

"Aye. I was given a job, my first in maybe a year now. I don't even remember."

"You are not to leave. I was given orders from the General, and my officers from the Order, to watch you. You were among the archenemy for too long. I see taint, I see the symptoms of the ague. The stuff of Chaos!"

"I will be fine, Bolk. I do not need your help, or you babysitting me. I have been across the Mortal Realms since I have left Middenfryd. I've seen beastmen ravage homes, I've seen daemons, I've seen an orruk tear a man limb from limb. I've even seen children of certain Freeguild regiments forced to watch rabid gryph-hounds maul forest critters to smithereens in order to train them to be good soldiers. The night terrors will probably be haunting them later..."

"You are sick, Fritz." the witch hunter seemed adamant. "I'm not allowing you to leave."

"I already left, too late." he slung his pack and silvered blade over his shoulder and stepped out the other door into Ghyran's shining light of the morning. Then he disappeared into the shade of a tree. Bolk sneered, turned and pushed his way through the camp into the makeshift town that formed in every single camp follower baggage train. He found the gambling den and pulled a shape out. This was Viper, captain of the Blackheart Rangers.

"What is it, Bolk?" he threw the witch hunter off him. The man did not stink of ale, nor did he look the least bit off his game. He was bald, a scar ran across his face and as always, he kept a knife at his hip. "I was trying to get my people out of that den. I'm tired of this."

"I shall break it up, but you shall do something for me." Viper raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You will trail Fritz, the monster hunter who joined us months ago. He is sick, with a seed of Chaos within him. I know this. I-"

"Don't speak in Order talk. I'm from Greywater, I don't care. Speak in street, please."

"Frtiz is sick, he's in my care. He is running away on some job, I need you to trail him, find out where he's going, and make sure he is safe."

"Why me?"

"You're silent and as good a huntsman as any. Get your things, the least amount as you can. Go. This is an order from me." Viper coughed and turned off to leave. This was going to be a hectic week.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

Viper followed the hunter for about three miles outside of their warcamp, and the trail had disappeared at a run-down old cabin built into some ancient Age of Myth ruins. A horse waited outside, eating the grass. He wandered in, pulling out his shortsword, just in case. He pushed aside the door. There were dust particles in the air, shimmering in the beams of light. Someone was in here, dust had been kicked up. But there was no person. Just a mirror. He grunted, sighed, and returned to base.

* * *

Fritz fell from the mirror into another cabin. The shadow wizard who had dragged him through grumbled, picking him up. "Is this your first time using a damn portal, mate?" It was a short trip from the camp, and the hunter came upon the wizard believing him to be a simple vagabond. The wizard had called him by name to the hut and forced him into the mirror. Fritz shook his head, more to bring himself back into reality. "Not too much different from a bloody Realmgate. We're here, follow. Shut up."

Fritz sighed and followed closely as they left the cabin, more like a hut in a run-down dusty clearing. In the distance rose Hallowheart like the spire it was, into the skies of Aqshy. The clearing was full of huts, and outside of one sat a group of marauders. He recognized not one, but they all recognized him, though he was well-fed, and less haggard. The warriors of Vata stood. One charged him, axe raised. The wizard waved his hand and the man's neck snapped entirely backwards. The others backed off. They entered the cabin, within were few others. A duardin, a man, both simple-looking people. Another man, more shady stood in the corner, away. He seemed twitchy, like he was in withdrawals. Another emerged from the shadows. Vata himself. Fritz spat, drawing steel. A trap. Of course.

"Put it away," said a voice from behind a door. It opened, revealing the cloaked man from the canteen. Others emerged too. "You are all gathered to help us in a job. It will be done. Are there any here uninvited?"

"Aye," said the wizard.

"Then take care of them." The wizard nodded curtly and stepped outside. Fritz heard bodies dropping. Vata pushed the hunter aside and opened the door to see his men dead.

"Why... why have you done this?" he muttered. His kingdom was dead. His surviving people, his huscarls, all dead. 

"No witnesses," shrugged the cloaked man. "The task is simple," he was getting to the point immediately. "There is a noble with a vast treasury in the spires of Hallowheart. We are to rob him, blind. Guards have been bribed, equipment gathered. An entire plot was conceived, this was years in the making. You will be paid in whatever you can carry from the vaults. The choice to back out is unfortunately, a lethal one. As I have previously stated." he eyed Vata. "You shall enter the city via the subterranean river networks beneath the city, ascend into the Temple District, and from there reach the noble's manor from one of the Sigmarite churches. Are there any questions?"

The cramped room was silent.  Fritz wanted out, though he feared these people in his heart. He had no idea the job would be one of those jobs. The five of them checked their gear, under supervision from the robed men and wizard. When they stepped out into the Aqshy sunlight, a man in black leathers joined them. "Well met my companions," he grunted, hands on his hips. He carried nothing but a rope and a dagger. "I see you have all saw fit to join me on this venture, good. Excellent." he carefully stepped over the corpses littering the front of the cabin. "It is not good real estate, an old mining town from before the city was founded. But good for hiding." He nodded to the hooded men to take away the bodies. He was younger than Fritz, with hair as black as his clothing, and a long mustache.

"What shall become of them?" Vata growled angrily.

"They shall be buried. Do not worry, your highness."

"With all due respect, sir..." Fritz said quietly as they made their way down a long rocky path towards the ravine that the clearing shadowed. "Why would you need a monster slayer? I had no idea I would be signing up to pull a heist. To what end? Why this noble specifically?"

"Too many questions, Fritz. With hope, we will not need a monster slayer. Unless my intelligence was incorrect," he chuckled as they picked their way to the river. Vata eyed Fritz and the man with contempt. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

Edgar followed closely behind the group. Stroking his beard anxiously, watching his feet move across the large pebbles by the riverside. Edgar knew of the secret entrance into the vault, he had been looking into it for months. It was only a hunch before the mysterious leader of their party offered him whatever he could carry with him out. 

However, he had no idea that a duardin would also be hired. His fists clenched tightly, anxiously. He looked up, at the back of the stunted monster's wooly head. The creatures, they moved into Hollowheart, and they stole the operations. They took mining jobs, smithing jobs. It was their fault that Edgar had become a thief and hired sword in the city's underbelly. He snarled under his breath, coughing. The cough was back. He heaved, nearly collapsing, but shook his head and walked it off. The six men made it to the end of the ancient path, dwarfed by a great cliff where, far above, wild magmadroths grazed in the light of Hysh. 

"Right then!" announced their leader, hopping into the river, which went up to his knees. "This will lead us into the guts of the city, care to take point, Fritz?" Fritz looked to Vata, who angrily stared at the water. Fritz drew his steel sword and stepped into the water, his hose soaked through. Vata moved in next followed by the duardin and human miners, followed by Edgar. The twitchy man could not take his eyes from the duardin. He was angry now. He felt betrayed. Their leader knew he disliked the short folk.

The party moved along the river, into a tunnel. Their leader forbade them use torchlight, so they had to move in utter darkness, feeling their way through. The only light was that shed from the mouth of the cavern from which they had entered. Water was up to their waists. Fritz pushed along through the rolling water, now slightly more rapid. The cold foam splashed his body and made his hair stick to his face. He wished to shave his head, or cut his hair, he may do just that. Suddenly he found himself moving upwards. The rocks beneath his feet became slippery. He tumbled forwards in a somersault and crashed into the water. Rising up he found Vata shoving their leader back as a river troggoth emerged and shook off the water from its face, blinking. Fritz grunted and swung his blade at its spine. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

(was sick lol)

The beast had been dropped after a long winded fight. The duardin and Edgar disappeared during the skirmish. Their leader heaved himself upon a ledge where Vata sat nude, wringing out his gryphskin loincloth. Fritz clambered up himself before Vata stood, stooped over in the dark cavern and fixed his "clothes". Fritz and the leader aided the other man in getting up. As Fritz had learned, the man Greg and his duardin companion were simple miners in the slums of Hallowheart, looking for a way out of their dark, mineral-stained lives. He couldn't say he didn't blame them. "We met five years ago, been livin' together in the same hovel. It's been rough. This mate had found us and promised us a job. Said it'd pay and we could move to bloody Azyr or Ghyran. Never been to another Realm before. Would like to see Azyr at least. I'd rather work in a quarry to be honest." He may have been a civilian, but the man was huge, strong, muscular. Almost as tall as Vata, with arms to match. He carried with him a pickaxe like it was a toy. Edgar emerged from a side passageway.

"I've found the crystal cavern entrances, lord." He said, almost a whisper.

"Where's Ogun?" their leader asked. "And never call me lord." He was serious, and near-angry. 

"Why, he must have gotten lost in the fighting. Maybe got trampled."

"I did not see him, and I have very good perception..." Fritz said, flicking water from his blade before sheathing it. Edgar grumbled.

"I don't KNOW. I did not SEE the damned squat. Are we going? His folk are good at digging like moles, he will likely catch up!" he stomped off down the way he had come. Fritz looked to Vata. Vata's eyes were the same as his, he could see through the weakling. They all could. Greg was sneering.

The crystal caverns were a web of tunnels deep under the city full to the brim of crystals, giving off a purplish glow. Like walking through a geode. Their leader dropped a bag from his back and opened it. "In here you will find rags, pilgrim clothing. Get changed and take whatever you can with you. We will be wandering into the sewers of the Temple District up this passage and through another cavern. It's best we be prepared. Seeing as this place is dry and uninhabited, leave your equipment here. Unless you can take it with you hidden under the disguises-"

"You want me to wear that?" Vata interrupted, pulling up a ragged cloak. "Not even any fur. How does this keep you warm? And the material... how does it protect?"

"It is for pilgrims, Vata." Fritz explained. "They usually wander unarmed en-masse to temple districts to pay tribute."

"I heard it is for pilgrims, fool. Unarmed pilgrims? You people are weak." He wrapped the cloak around himself, his armored shoulders hidden but still bulky. He grunted, dropping his axe and sword but slid his knife so it was more hidden. Fritz shook his head and draped his own robe around his shoulders.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

×
×
  • Create New...