Black Birds

[Evz22]

Fritz was thrust upon his knees. They stung as they connected to the wooden deck. Before him was a chieftain of marauders. He stood heads taller than Fritz, the dark gods had truly blessed this monster. Vata looked up at his men. "You may leave us. Go hunting. I sent you out to collect meat and game for our army, and you bring me a Azyrite?"

"I'm sorry my king..." Vad said with a grunt. "We thought he may be important to you. He's survived the poisoned knives, thrown by Afkol."

"Speaking of whom, where is Afkol?"

"This dog killed him," he took the sheathed greatsword from Trel, who then left with the others back onto the shore, now covered in a blanket of white. "Killed him with this, along with everyone else." he offered the weapon to Vata who took it quickly, unsheathing it. The silver blade glinted in the light.

"Ah, so you're a witch hunter, aye?" he looked down to Fritz as the warband left the ship again, leaving them with a few guards. Fritz looked over his shoulder to the large barbarian camp. The marauders were shoving spiked logs into the earth to keep out the locals.

"Aye..." he said, looking back. at the chieftain. "Not quite. I do not hunt heretics and witches. I hunt the beasts that threaten the downtrodden amongst my peoples."

"I am King Vata, of Chamon. What is your name?"

"Fritz."

"That is quite the Azyrite name. Where are you from warrior?"

"Middenfryd..." he whispered, "Ghur. An ancient fortress built by the Fyreslayers." He was not truly from the ruined fortress, though it was the last place he called home.

"And you hunt monsters instead of heretics? This is a relief..." Vata chuckled. "For a moment I thought you would slay me." He handed the hunter his sword back. Fritz accepted it. "I am an honorable king. This is something rare among us... slaves to the dark gods." he sighed, sitting upon a barrel. "Your God-King..." he shuddered at saying the phrase. "He left my ancestors to die. And now we are here, and I am king. We have recently pulled away from a successful siege and are resting. We were going to return to our village, but alas it is said that a warqueen has gathered clans together to enter Shyish. I am still deciding whether to return home, or remain here and go to her aid. What do you think?"

Fritz was dumbfounded, of course. He was having a conversation with their arch-enemy. By all rights, a monster. Fritz looked up to meet the king's gaze. He was smiling warmly, curiosity in his eyes. This was no conqueror, but rather an explorer. He tilted his head, confused. The chieftain then said finally, breaking the awkward silence. "Do not worry, I do not seek to kill you. I mean, not yet anyways. I enjoy the company of Azyrites. We've many slaves. I enjoy hearing their tales. I invite you to come with us. We've lost many warriors in the siege. Would you care to? Would you? You murdered Afkol, that is such a feat not even my champion could accomplish!" he laughed, pointing to the large, hunchbacked armored warrior to his left. The champion remained silent.. So did Fritz.

"Well, if you do not wish to speak..." he nodded to his champion, who took a step forwards, grabbing the man by his collar and heaving him to his feet. "Take his weapons, his armor. Toss him into our brig, aye? I shall visit him later. After a feast." The champion dragged him away after another marauder confiscated his gear that was piled on the deck. The warrior brought Fritz into the main camp. Men shouted at him, one man punched him in the face, bloodying his nose. A woman wiggled her body at him in a teasing manner, the warriors around her laughing their heads off. Fritz could feel the eyes of not just the barbarians, but of the dark gods. He could feel them looking into his soul through these heathens. Someone came out of the crowd and snapped a whip at him, tearing through his shirt and bleeding his back. Another warrior tore his shirt off with a hearty chuckle. Another pulled his pants down. The rope around his neck was yanked and he fell forwards into the snow. More laughter as the woman who flashed him pulled his trousers off and held them up high and the mob cheered for her. He was dragged through the snow, trailing a line of red behind him. Another whip crack. Another. He felt blood seeping from the wounds on his back. He looked up through his unswollen eye at duardin and human skeletons framed upon large wooden crosses in the shape of eight-pointed stars. A person threw a splash of thick blood at him with a bucket. He became covered in red gore. The hunter was finally pulled up, standing weakly on both feet. It was here where a woman kicked him in the knee, hard. He felt it snap and he fell over backwards, into a tent. He hit the cold, dirty ground. And then he fell asleep.

[Evz22]

A week and two days had passed by. Fritz remained awake through most of it, the barbarians rushing in to kick him before the champion chased them off. One man was beheaded the fourth day when the champion actually managed to catch him. Three times Vata had traveled from his ship to talk to Fritz, who was hardly able to speak due to the beatings. The king always left disappointed. Fritz sat upright, cross-legged, and still red. His hands were tied behind his back, and his body was numb from the cold. At dusk, he saw movement outside of the tent, and prepared to receive another set of beatings. Instead, a man stepped in draped in a heavy dark cloak, dressed in armor of black leather. He yanked down his hood. Fritz had no idea who he was. An assassin sent to murder him? An angry marauder? He waited for the steel to kiss his throat and end it all. "I am Iyvik." The warrior smiled. Fritz did not, nor could he at the moment. The stranger's smile melted into a frown. "You mean to sign you do not remember me? I am Iyvik! I am a Black Bird!" A pause. "We are a mercenary group of Freeguildsmen. We are your tribe, or what is left of it, before you were sent away to Middenfryd. It was years ago." Another pause. "A duardin named Varig has met up with us. He mentioned he was following you and noticed a group of marauders ambushed you. We were marching from Anvilfort to Mystower in the south when we ran into him. He was frantic, asking for aid. When he mentioned it was you, and that you were a hunter of Middenfryd... I had no idea we would find the man who was sent to the hunter fort so long ago. This is a not a mere coincidence, it is a sign from the God-King himself!" He kneeled down, cutting the binds and lifting Fritz over his shoulder. A shout came from somewhere outside. The sound of fire catching. Then followed by the clashing of steel. A battle. "After the orruks destroyed our homes, we became mercenaries. Oh, that would be our diversion!" he chuckled, stumbling outside the tent. Fritz's eyesight adjusted to the light just as Ulgu brought about the shadows of night. A line of handgunners were blasting from the trees as a group of marauders while a regiment of swordsmen built a wall of shields of which the marauders soon crashed upon.  Iyvik ran as fast as he could, carrying Fritz as though he were a full potato sack, through the burning camp. Fire arrows dashed by overhead, hitting the makeshift dwellings and setting them alight. 

The mercenary finally reached the treeline where a group of soldiers stood, awaiting them. Among them was a bald warrior, sporting a long brown, graying beard and an eyepatch. "Fritz!" he crossed his arms as the thunder of battle roared. "So very very good to see you again!"

[Evz22]

He woke with a start, covered in sweat. he put his weak hand to his face. Blood and sweat. He could see only from his right eye. Fritz lay broken upon a fur pelt, his legs mangled from beatings. It was a dream, nay a nightmare. It had been a week and some days. Vata had often visited his tent. There was no battle, no Freeguild. Just him. He looked up, seeing a woman smoking a rolled-up herb. A pink smoke filled the tent. "You are welcome to some, you look as though you would be in dire need of such thing." Fritz let out a strange rasp. Half-sigh, half-laugh. "This is my final offer, Sigmar-pup." She held it out to him. Wheezing, he leaned forwards and breathed in whatever was in the roll. It instantly put him to ease, and his broken body felt broken less. He smiled weakly, causing her to laugh. He weakly curled his body into a parody of an upright position, as upright as he could be with a broken leg. "We have moved twice in the time you have slept last night, pup." She took another puff. "We move closer to the so-called Free Lands of Shyish. it's a disgusting land. I know not why anyone would want to live here. The dead walk, the spirits drift, there are bones and bodies all over. I am not a civilized person, I worship the Dark Gods who have taken me under their dreaded wings and even I do not like this place." She turned to him, a serious look upon her face. "I am Haen, warrior of Vata's tribe. You are... obviously a pitiful dog." he smiled, still under the drug's effect, leaning back against the makeshift table  built into the room. The tent flap opened and Vata entered.

"Haen," he nodded. "Entertaining yourself I see?" he strode inside.

"Aye, my king. I thought the poor fool could use some company."

"That is good of you, my friend." he sat beside Fritz, who was drifting more and more out of it. "My foreign friend," he began. "I see you've finally come to your senses after all this time... It is good to see you awake and smiling. Were you not in such a broken heap, I would say I have never seen a man more alive in this Realm." Haen laughed at this. "Do you wish to talk?" Fritz nodded, weakly of course. "Good... Haen, please," he pointed to the flap and she stood and left. "The snows have receded. Mostly. We cannot tell if it is snow or ash, honestly. I came here to tell you I have killed the people who did this to you. I never intended for this to happen, I really did not. I am reasonable. Alas, there are people among my group who are less than reasonable. They only live to plunder and kill, they do not realize that by making... friends of would-be enemies, then there would be no reason to plunder and kill. Aye? Am I right in this?"

Fritz was confused, having never met a sane worshipper of the Dark Gods before. His vision was also tinted slightly pink. He couldn't tell if it was due to the smoke. "Yes. Yes you are right..." he breathed, laying down on his side and curling up.

"Heh, I am glad. I have thoughts like this every night. And the Gods know it. They know it all too well. I believe it was them that drove my people to torture you. You, though, probably know this. These are the politics of the barbarians. Those who Sigmar has forgotten..." he shivered involuntarily. "I've decided not to follow the Warqueen. I do not desire to stay in this place. I hate it. We hate it. We are warriors, we like seeing meat on other people's bones, eh?" he laughed, and picked Fritz up. "We leave by ship in some hours. Haen's medicine should put you to sleep, aye? You will be home before you know it."

Home? Fritz asked, though he could not move his lips. He was drifting off to sleep.

[Evz22]

He awoke, and found that he could stand. He was not cold, nor was he feverishly warm. He felt calm and content. No pain wracked his body. Was he dead? No, he felt the wood beneath him. The furs that covered him melted off as he climbed to his feet. He wobbled, feeling high. The marauders had dressed him in a linen tunic and trousers. No shoes covered his feet, and he lacked bandages. And wounds.

He felt the ship rock that he was aboard, and moved towards the small door, squatting to walk through. He was horrified. The giant longboat traveled down a large river, and on either side was a vast forest of crucified bodies and skeletons. Human, duardin, aelf, halfling, elk, deer, canine, feline, dragonic. It was horrifying. He even spotted the battered armor of Stormcast Eternals thrown into the spikes of the crosses.

"This is the Forest of skeletons." Vata walked up alongside him. The edge of Vurra's kingdom. In Chamon. We are returning from a raid in Shyish. You accompanied us. It has been several months."

"Months...?" Fritz asked, confused.

"Aye, months. We return home now. We've been camping along the shorelines, and though I did not follow the Warqueen in her conquests, I did fight the forces of Death and raid manling villages along the coast. We now return home." Fritz stared into the crimson waters, refusing to look at the forest of death.

[Evz22]

The place that King Vata called home was an ancient Duardin fortress built along a stretch of beach by a vast lake, the opposite side shrouded in dense mist the color of rust. The fleet docked. Men and women embraced. Long time friends barked in laughter. Children greeted mothers and fathers. It would be heartwarming were these people not Fritz's enemies, or if he was not a prisoner of war. He was led by a rope by the champion, followed by the apothecary. Fritz had no idea what the apothecary had done, but he did not feel weak at all. He felt at peace. He also had all of his muscles intact, nothing had withered. He was sustained over the trip, or maybe stasis?

Vata led him up into the fortress' enormous gates, forever blasted open by some abominable warmachine. They crossed through halls full of barbarian peasants, running taverns, inns, subterranean gardens and farmland. They wandered over a vast narrow bridge over a black chasm and after an hour reached a wide open underground chamber. The entirety of the ceiling had been removed, letting in the pale sunlight of Hysh warm them. Vata presented the many tents and huts that filled the chamber. "This is where we mainly live. Well, those who are not fishermen." He nodded in the direction of an ancient duardin castle in the far corner. "My home, my fort. Come, manling." Fritz was silent as they crossed the village center, the champion growling menacingly at any man who tried to touch the monster slayer.

The inside of the castle was warm. And were it not for the symbol of Khorne carved upon a wooden table at the far end of the entrance chamber, Fritz would have taken it for a regular human castle. He was brought into a large room full of pillows and blankets, the other seemed to be a tavern, where Vata leaned against a bartop and drank from a tankard of mead. "Would you like a drink? It's been a while."

"What am I doing here?" he asked.

"You're a warrior. You belong with us. You've also taken down my strongest man, next to well," he nodded over at his champion, who slowly disappeared backwards through the curtains blanketing the entrance of the room. "I wanna watch you fight!" This man, taller than Fritz, way more muscular as his body seemed to have been bulging with taint of the dark gods, seemed to light up like a child. 'I want to see you fight monsters we have captured on this journey for our arena. Not to mention my champion! The arena is on the beach, bloody hell, the people would love it. You will become one of us, you will fight for me! On the fields of battle! The Hound will beset you with gifts!" The curtain parted and a woman in a linen dress entered, scowling.

"You are gone for nearly half a year and you return with a starved man and you cannot even say hello to your queen? Is Blood-Sky that much better?"

"No, my love. No. Not at all. I apologize. I was giving Fritz the tour..."

"Why did you keep him?"

"To watch him fight, he has slain Afkol. Afkol!"

"What...?" she looked down, her eyes glassed over. Tears began to fall. Vata smashed the tankard upon the stone floor.

"By the TEETH of Khorne, you LIAR! I knew it. I knew it for so bloody long. You have known him. I have heard my spies-"

"He is dead Vata, what does this matter?? What does it matter? I go through the entire village when you are off on your godly 'conquests'. Vurra is at least conquering distant lands and expanding his empire!"

"Leave woman before I spill your stomach!!"

"You would not spill your sixth child!"

"I have five others who would succeed me. Leave!" he pointed. The champion was in once again, breathing softly. The woman sniffed and followed the armored hunchback out into the hall. Vata poured himself another and sucked it down. He then poured another three. The next he finally offered to Fritz, who took it. Looking into the reflection he noticed how long his beard had gotten. He needed a shave. He sighed. 

[Evz22]

Fritz sat alone in his cell. Every single day he was tossed into a pit. He fought men, troggoths, grots, orruks, skaven, beasts, things he did not even know the name of. Even a floating turtle that chilled his bones as soon as it appeared from its cage. He sat alone, his hair long and matted, his beard thick and frazzled. His muscles were working, alas he was in a purgatory between malnutrition and healthiness. How long had he been at this settlement? At this conquered fortress? The cell door opened and there stood a warrior, a conical helmet upon their skull. They wore silver mail and a long blue cloak flowed behind them. They waved to the man.

"I am Zenazi" the warrior said, their voice seemed like a whisper.

"Are you an aelf?" he asked, muttering. His throat was sore from all the screaming. The shadow warrior pulled off her helmet, revealing the beautiful features of her race. Her eyes were black as the shadow of the room.

"I have been sent to rescue you. Come!" she picked him up and tossed him over her shoulder, surprisingly strong. She then slithered out of the room and down a hallway, into the ruined guardhouse. "You stay!" she dropped him, slumping him against the wall, and left him in the shadows. After a moment she returned with an old tunic, trousers, and his silver sword and pistol. "Here are your things. Put them on, be swift!" As he began to dress, she slipped back into the darkness. Three warriors wandered down the hallway. As soon as they came within five feet of Fritz, three arrows were in their throats and they fell quietly. Fritz stood, dressed. "Come come!" she whispered, and he followed. They took the stairs up to the broken roof, where sunlight of Hysh began to crest the faraway horizon. The sky was a mixture of pink and blue. And it was peaceful until the explosion rocked the foundations of the fortress. Down upon the beach he saw a Freeguild cogfort laying siege to the shoreline defenses, aided by several gyrocopters and Khahadron Overlord vessels giving support. Batteries of cannons smashed the defenses. And the marauders were quickly retreating. Only the mad Bloodbound warriors charged. Alas, they charged headlong into a wall of bullets and arrows as the cogfort's cargo of warriors rushed along the shore to take it. The Chaos warriors and marauders fell and a group of swordsmen and spearmen rushed in front of the gunners and archers. "This is where we leave this place!" Zenazi ushered him on, then after they clambered down the wall of the tower, she threw him over her shoulder again and carried him like a sack. He heard the silent screams and gasps of the warriors she fell along the way to the beach. He was rushed by warriors dressed in red and black battle gear, slapping swords and axes against shields as the aelf bounded up the boarding ramp of the cogfort. Finally, he was placed before the central tower. An explosion rocked the mobile fortress. A warrior wandered over, dressed in chainmail and furs.

"I am Iyvik." The warrior smiled. Fritz did not, nor could he at the moment. The stranger's smile melted into a frown. "You mean to sign you do not remember me? I am Iyvik! I am a Black Bird!" A pause. "We are a mercenary group of Freeguildsmen. We are your tribe, or what is left of it, before you were sent away to Middenfryd. It was years ago." Another pause. "A duardin named Varig has met up with us. He mentioned he was following you and noticed a group of marauders ambushed you. We were marching from Anvilfort to Mystower in the south when we ran into him. He was frantic, asking for aid. When he mentioned it was you, and that you were a hunter of Middenfryd... I had no idea we would find the man who was sent to the hunter fort so long ago. This is a not a mere coincidence, it is a sign from the God-King himself!" He kneeled down, inspecting the wounds and bruises on Fritz's face. A shout came from somewhere upon the beach. The sound of fire catching. Then followed by the clashing of steel. A battle. "After the orruks destroyed our homes, we became mercenaries." Fire arrows dashed by overhead, hitting the makeshift dwellings along the beach and setting them alight. 

The mercenary stood up, making way for a group of soldiers to approach. Among them was a bald warrior, sporting a long brown, graying beard and an eyepatch. "Fritz!" he crossed his arms as the thunder of battle roared. "So very very good to see you again!"

"Kurt...?" he asked, trying to sit up.

"Do not struggle." he turned to Zenazi. "Thank you, my lady. Do take him into the medical ward." she nodded, tossing him over her plated shoulder once more. He was so used to it now, he could fall asleep. "Pull back!!" shouted General Kurt Vanhel. "Pull back into the fort! All flyers return to the docks and pull back!" That was all Fritz saw before passing out from exhaustion.

From his spire at the peak of the ancient duardin hold, Vata watched the Freeguild forces of Order begin to retreat. His ships were no where near fast enough to catch them. He growled under his breath. "Send a messenger downriver."

"Aye lord," grunted a man behind him.