The next two days pass in relative peace. The Cathayan caravans have started moving to their destination in turns. As from what Yangtian said, his father wants to maximize his profit before the existence of the gate can finally be known. So the caravans are sent in turns, first to Middenheim, then to Marienburg, and finally Altdorf. All charging the usual premium prices as the prices of Cathayan imports will undoubtedly start to be cheaper once more and more caravans can trade more frequently using my gate. So yes, things are at peace. At least on the surface. Down below Laurelorn, the Skaven’s fortification is steadily taking shape. My shadow divers have done what they can to sabotage and stall their fortification works. Though their effectiveness is starting to be severely diminished as the skavens start bringing some kind of warpfire braziers based on the shadow divers report. It somehow disturbs the flow of magic, even in the shadow realm and makes it harder for them to infiltrate into the fortification. They can still dive deeper into the shadows, through the cavern walls and circle around the fortification through the walls, but the problem is that they would be swimming through the walls blind and limited to how long they can hold their breaths. I imagine it should be like you can move through the walls but you can only see what is directly in front of your eyes and nothing more and without additional senses to make sense where you are and directions, it would be close to a suicidal effort if done recklessly. So I forbid them from doing that. The only thing worth noting now is that they have also reported the sounds of something huge growling from within the fortifications. So the skavens are starting to bring rat ogres, which is not exactly good. My beastmen, while so much bigger than regular beastmen, are still smaller than ogres. The shadow divers in particular are not designed for prolonged combat as they rely on holding their breaths to stay in the shadows so prolonged exertion will significantly reduce their combat effectiveness.
Lak meanwhile has returned from her stay in the black ark. Except that now she looks more like an elf with goat horns than a beastmen. Wearing a very deliberately cut high elven dress to reveal and accentuate her body and beauty than conceal. It is clear that she is emulating me which is cute in a way.
“This is new. What happens?” I ask with curiosity. There are spells to disguise oneself as another. But mostly it was an illusion and Kadon’s spells are more to transform into a monster than a monster into a man or an elf. From my probing, it is not an illusion either. But something closer to my own Facsimile concept.
“I… found some spell in the black ark.” She explains. Do dark elves have that kind of spell? What for? They don’t exactly need that as they can pose as a high elf no problem without such advanced spells.
“That so? Alright then. Do be careful though. Dark elven spells usually have restrictions imposed on the caster or even the spell is deliberately made to trap the caster or make them dependent on the spell.” I caution her. At least that is what I remember from what Hellebron got from Morathi. Though I did not delve further on the specific. To my word, she visibly frowned in concern.
“There are spells like that?” She asks. Did she try out some spells without caution?
“Yes, those from dark magic can especially do this and dark elves specialize in dark magic. Magical artifacts also are almost always warded or have traps to deter anyone that try to tamper or claim owned artifacts for themselves. So do be more careful next time.” I advised her. This is a problem. When the war finally came, there might be an abundance of magical artifacts and my own beastmen might recklessly use them. Which is not good as many can be chaos tainted and my beastmen taken away to Chaos from this oversight will be very disastrous. As for how this came to be, my beastmen herd doesn’t exactly have proper shamans as we are already drifting away from Chaos early on, so no one exactly teaches them how to use magic other than me and the Eonir’s spellsingers though I don’t know the extent of their teachings. Judging by how Lak doesn’t exactly exercise caution, they must not really teach them about this or they might expect that I already taught them that much. The artifacts that I made and the spell slots I have are also very accessible in general which compound to the oversight. So I kind of forgot to teach them about this.
“Hmmm, very well then. Come with me Lak, it seems like I am neglecting your magical education. Fortunately, I have a new book that can teach us plenty of things. Oh, and call Mal too. She needs to learn this too so she can teach the rest of the shamans.” Good thing Teclis left his book then. Now to upgrade the magical education of my beastmen.
—
“TZEEN!” The Norscan roars, competing with the unending storm far above. Rowing above their vast fleet of hundreds of black ships as the sea churns. Waves upon waves, as high as a mountain, as wide as the horizon rocks their ships. Drums. Drums. Beating slowly, barely audible over the ceaseless thunder. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Eight.
“KHAR!” Again roars the Norscan. Louder than before as Followers of Khorne proclaim their devotion. Lightning flashes overhead before stopping. Dark returns as the sun cannot pierce the storm. It struck. In an instant. Half a score of ships evaporated as mighty thunder struck. Illuminating the world, revealing things under the sea. Stalking, waiting for the feast to come. Manann, the God of the Sea, claimed the first blood in this conflict against Chaos. But still the drums beats. Even as the thunder divided their fleet. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Eight.
“NURGH!” The Norscan roars. Not as loud, but deeper. They row harder than before, as if chanting the grandfather’s name soothes their aching muscles. Thunder strucks. Revealing a mighty wave along with dark things within it as more thunder struck behind the wave. The drum beats as they row. Row. Row. And row. Ships at the further back that climbed the wave too late flipped as the wave made an almost vertical wall of water. Sea serpents, striking from within the wave, overturning more of the black ships as they climb the wave. S~eaʀᴄh the NovelZone.fun website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
“SLAAaaaA!” Roared the Norscan with intonation as they rowed for the final climb against the wave. Cheers erupt as they climb the peak of the wave. A feat worthy of legends on its own. But only if they survive. And Manann is not done. The black ships accelerate wildly as their ships flow down from the back of the mighty wave. Perilous is the sea as Manann unleashes his wrath. Even more so during winter. The drums continue to beat. Much fainter than before. And as lightning flashes, floating icebergs, carried from the south by the wave come to sight. The black ships try to change course, but the speed makes it impossible without crashing into other ships as few of the ships did. Those at the very front crash to the icebergs, their ships breaking along with the ice. While the ships behind them can do nothing but ram through the broken ships and ice until their ships eventually break and those behind them do the same. The Norscan that jumped from the ship immediately feasted by things from the depths. By the time the fleet passes the worst of the storm, less than half of the ships remain.
“I told you to not sail immediately and wait for the storm to pass.” A Tzeentchian sorcerer Rebuked Drumand. His figure was veiled by his oversized yellow robe and cloak. On the frontmost ship of the black fleet carrying the symbol of the Sarl on its sail. The sorcerer has pledged his fealty to him just after Khorne blesses him with the Bloodthirster spikes and the hellblade. But so far, the sorcerer has been testing his patience nonstop. Don’t do this, don’t do that, wait for the ritual to be answered. He figures the sorcerer will say that the stars are not right yet but he sets sail before the sorcerer can say it. The only reason he accepts a fealty from a cowardly sorcerer is only because his tribe has no sorcerer or shaman to guide the tribe. But he regretted it already.
“I didn’t ask for the rest of the tribes to follow me!” Drumand shouts back though his eyes are focused somewhere else. Some ships are still harrowed by sea serpents.
“But you know they will follow you regardless.” A man from another ship strips before jumping to the sea towards the serpent with his weapon. He is immediately swallowed.
“Good, they are not cowards!”
“Now there are less than half of us. How do you think we will fare against the southerners!?” To this, Drumand grabs the sorcerer by the collar. He just won’t shut up.
“Do you think the cowardly southerners will dare to set sail in storms like this like we do!? Besides, now there will be more glory for the rest of us!” To this his tribesmen, mostly followers of Khorne, cheered. Including those on other ships follows.
“Have you learned nothing from the folly of Arek Daemonclaw?” Drumand furrows his brow, trying to remember who that is. He doesn't know the name. Must be not important. (Arek Daemonclaw is a Chaos Champion leading the siege of Praag in Kislev, a few years prior. Then he met Gotrek and Felix.)
Just like the sorcerer whose name he doesn’t remember.
“How do you think I got my name?” Drumand asks the sorcerer. His name is Drumand the Rash. Then he kicks the sorcerer off from the ship before the sorcerer can answer. A smaller sea serpent immediately swallows the sorcerer even before the body touches water.
“HAHAHAHAHA!” Drumand laughs as the sorcerer gets eaten. His tribe follows laughing. Knowing followers of Tzeentch, the sorcerer must think his name might have some other connotation than reckless or something like that.
Then a sea serpent burst from the water. The norscan readies their javelins before the serpent belches its viscous blood. Before the sound of another roar from the serpent's head. Not from the serpent nor from any man. Then a blade erupts from the serpent’s skull. The roar comes from the blade as it rips through the skull, the naked man that was immediately swallowed jumps out from the skull. Standing triumphantly on the serpent’s head. His chainsword gleamed red from the serpent’s blood.
“AEWUUULF!” The man roars his name. Lightning flashes on the clouds above him as if answering his roar. Those of his tribe roars his name too in recognition. Then he jumped into the sea again and swam south to the shore on his own.
—
“She did what?” I ask for confirmation with the artifact I made to contact the Shadow Divers I sent to Altdorf to keep an eye on my half-sister. Again the shadow divers confirm that she and her entourage have left Altdorf to Middenheim. Wasn't she sent as an emissary to the dwarves? Why didn’t she go through Averland? Why take the roundabout way? Or is she planning to tour the Empire first before going south? She can’t be coming here right? Then what about the thing with Nagash and the rest? Things have started to become confusing already. Not to mention I still haven’t made up my mind on what to do with her. On one hand, if memory serves, she is to be sacrificed for resurrecting Nagash. In another, is that Teclis is the one that planned this. I do not know if this is out of his character or not based on my very brief experience with him. It still could be, with him gifting his book to Valariel as an attempt to reduce guilt. But End Times can be unreliable too as there are too many characters behaving out of character or twists that are revealed without much setup which I cannot rely on here. Regardless, I command the Shadow Divers to continue following and observe for now. What I will decide then, to save her or let her be sacrificed, will be decided when the time comes.