#waste warband

[wyldblunt]

just the portrait on its own too ⚙

#charr #gw2 charr #gw2 #my art #my ocs #benji #waste warband

[circeius-invidioso]

I do not get why the Red Corsairs are not a popular choice.

Like.

Like here is the elevator pitch for the warband and then we can come to some justified conclusion.

What isn't there to love?

You want me to turn into an infomencial and make a top 3 reasons why the Red Corsairs are great?

Cause I can.

And I will.

The Diverse Working Enviroment

Here in the Red Corsairs we might have started as Ultramarines but the barrier for entry is on the floor. So anyone can join.

You are Night Lord with a bad rep and no ship.

Buckle up we got you covered.

You are a Fallen and have 20 Dark Angels all up in yo business? Trying to shoot down the boss babe you are?

Fear not, or in our case. Know no Fear. We are strapped and don't get clapped.

You are a traitor that likes their Legion but sadly you got in our way?

Tough luck buddy, you will join or die and your geene seed will join our cause. Nothing personal battle brother. Just business as usual.

Everyone is welcome as long as they follow Huron's guidelines and don't aggitate the topless sweaty Khorne worshipping Ultramarines in the basement.

Sustainability

Unlike the corrupt Imperium of man and the corpse Emperor our leader is powered by miracles (which is trully a miracle how he survived but that on the next section), and we use 0 psyckers to power our crap.

Our carbon footprint is also minimum as we use salvaged goods and don't indulge in toxic industries that destroy worlds.

The Red Corsair base of operation is in the Eye of Terror and from there we expand our scope. A place greatly known for its constant shifts, and horrible conditions but the tan our serfs have are spectacullar from all that cosmic radiation.

Finally we are commited to recycling. As in we take from our victims benefactors and put those stolen goods to some great use. Nothing goes to waste, neither mortal, nor static object. If something is not nailed on the floor we will take it.

In fact we might take the floor too and the nails used to set it in place.

Nothing goes to waste!

Unmatched Leadership

Last, but certainly not least.

The man.

The myth.

The Legend.

Huron Blackheart.

Aka Lufgt Huron.

Aka what would happen if we gave a compressed Guilliman a daemonic familiar and left him to ferment in a warp storm.

Not only the name is so edgy you might cut yourself by saying it out loud. But also it's complex enough that if you say it quickly three times without twisting your tongue theres is a chance furniture might start levitating.

The man has put his Ultramarine brain to use and amased enough influence and power to put the Black Legion to shame.

Huron went from 0 to 100 in no time, he is a self made Warmaster. With no daddy issues or troubles in the world, he goes into battle blasting Alestorm in the voxxcasters.

He does not care.

He probably wears this when he wants to relax.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

He has a biker gang specifically organized to hunt down those who have betrayed him.

They slap those things on their armors not for the usual biker reason

(which fun fact the meaning is, 99% of the bikers are law-abiding, where the 1% are not. That's where the 1% comes from. The more you know 🌈)

no they wear that 1% because that's how high are your chances of escaping from them are.

Is that a bit extreme?

Yes.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

The dude once gathered his buddies and decided...

to you know. Have a casual outing. Nothing too serious, it was a sunday afteral.

So they decided on.

Kidnapping Guilliman.

Which they almost did if not for a Fallen of all people getting in the way.

But still.

The mad lad took Macragge's Honour and went on a joyride/ mini civil war.

Who in the galaxy can turn and say.

Yeah, I stole Macragge's Honour, almost captured my old Primarch. Told a daemon prince they are irrelevant on my way there. Anyway after crushing a fool who thought he could take my crown as king of the space pirates, I went to the home planet of the White Scars and kidnapped and tortured their Chapter Master. What did you do this week? 💅

Who wouldn't want to be a part of that?

You tell me I can be an immortal, gorgeous chaos Ultramarine goth boy going on pirate adventures across the galaxy?

Where do I sign up?

I don't need ink for a signature.

I will use my own blood.

#warhammer #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #wh40k #shitpost #red corsairs #chaos ultramarines #chaos space marines #games workshop #black library #huron is the chaos ultramarines representation we deserve

[bleedingichorhearts]

Imagine trying to survive having that train of four absolute studs run on you.

That is to say, I think you'd need major aftercare after a gray knight and three alpha legion.

𝕽𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕬𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: You, you are something else. This my first attempt writing with multiple characters at once, let’s see how this goes. No official name for the warband/group yet.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: Having one on you was one thing, having four was another.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: Idk, I just write, lol.

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: If you are under the age of 18. Shoo! Go away! Skedaddle! Why you reading this in the first place? Be 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 for/of yourself. Has not been proofread.

TW // SMUT/NSFW, Filthy, Cursing.

Walking along the dirt trail, the smell of wet pine and dirt evaded my senses. Calming my tense nerves of today.

Everything seemed different today. Not just because of the dark clouds rolling in, but because of how different the Astarte's looked to be. They were more... uptight, cranky even if I wasn't around, it confused me. It wasn't like them for them to be so, abrasive.

Whatever they were conflicting about had got me on edge because I did not want to see another house torn down again, but who's to say something to an almost 7-foot tall, armored Astartes, who can possibly throw you more than 100 yards? No one really, well... maybe a mother or a crackhead.

Nevertheless, I didn't want to be there if a full out brawl happened at the house. I didn't want to be caught in the middle of it. So, I've managed to sneak pass their senses while they were too busy sizing each other up or at least, I thought I did.

Hydra wasn't even paying attention to the argument at hand. He was more focused on someone far more interesting than this petty argument. Someone who is trying to slip under their radar, undetected. This was his chance.

He moved forward, sneaking away from the warband, leaving his brethren to the Knight where he went to the tree line their little serpent disappeared to. Her scent clinging to the flora there, his instincts going haywire.

He didn’t hesitate to pursued her scent quickly with his mind yelling at him. Knowing if those dark clouds rolled in, they would cover her scent and he'll have to wait for it to pass and that's something he's not fond of.

The trees moved with the wind that came with the dark clouds. Tiny rain drops falling from the darkened sky, hitting my coat. The smell of the rain enhancing the smell of pine, it made the area feel nostalgic.

It was cold, but it felt nice to be away from the Astartes for a while, even in this weather. It might have not been a good idea, but you take what you can right? Since when was the last time, I had time by myself without the eyes of the Astartes?

Stopping underneath a tree, I looked up to the sky. Watching how the dark clouds moved slowly above, yet the branches were quick like the rain drops that hit my face. It wasn't pouring just yet, but it will be very soon as a rumbled shook within the clouds.

Snap!

I crouched down at the unexpected noise, barely feeling a gauntlet of an Astartes that touched the collar of my coat. My heart jumping in my chest at the suddenness.

The wind whipped in my ears when I turned to look at the Astartes. His form crouching and angry looking. His red visor glowing perfectly against the darkening sky. The rain becoming more quicker and harsher than it was.

My heart thumped in my ears louder than the thunder. Thoughts racing on my predicament. Were they angry at me for leaving them? Did they have pent up anger? What made them seem so angry?

Though, I was glad that I had a few run ins with Solor to be able to evade at least some of the basic moves they had, but this was an Alpha Legion, they had all sorts of tricks up their sleeves. They were unpredictable.

He rushed forward and I took off, not wasting any time to avoid the Astartes. Knowing just how fast they could be by personal experience.

I didn't know who it was chasing me. It could be any of the Hydras, but the sky had gotten darker with each minute, with each breath. It was getting harder to see, to identify who exactly it was. Which, in some way makes it thrilling.

There was something about it. Having an Astartes chasing you down within the forest while you know they are much bigger, better, and faster than you. That Astartes can track you down like no other human can. It brought a fluttery feeling to my stomach as I thought about it.

The sky rumbled as I took a sudden sharp turn. My body heating up despite the rain pelting down on me. I heard the Astartes behind me running into the tree for how fast they were. A loud snap echoed off through the sound of the rain. A low growl left their helmet, not expecting that move.

Zigzagging between the trees, slowing him down when he got too close for my nerves. I made sure to keep low to the ground. The soaked flora around me whipping against my own wet face.

Barely hearing a frustrated growl, I spotted a building up head through the heavy rain. It’s blocky shadow lit up from the streetlights just outside of it. Thinking if I made it there, I could get a moment of rest before going off again.

Heading for the building. I nearly made it, but slipped on the muddy ground as the Astartes gauntlets picked me up by the waist. Making me realize just how close he really was. I wouldn’t even have to time to rest there.

His body turned to take the impacting into the building, breaking the wall open. Both of us landing onto the ground with a loud crash. Some sparks going off between armor and cement.

Dazed, and breathless. I needed a moment to recover from the run while the blue Astartes switched spots. His armored form now hovering above me as I turned my body around, ready to crawl my way out from underneath the Alpha Legion.

A hiss sounded off, then multiple clunks of an object bounced off to my side. Looking over, it was the Astartes helmet.

“Hydra?” I questioned the Astartes behind me. Unsure if it was the right Legionnaire. His arms wrapping around my form and dragging me back flush underneath him. Body curling over mine just to whine into my shoulder.

Confusion wrapped my mind as I thought the Astartes were mad at me. They were staying far away from one another hissing, arguing in their own language. Sometimes trying to start fights with one another.

Another clunk sounded off. A gauntlet sliding down my waist before resting just above my core. A sudden heat, twitching beneath me.

Oh?

Oh.

The realization struck me, my stomach doing flips while I clenched around nothing. His gauntlet taking a part of my pants and ripping it off with ease. A pleased purr leaving him as he slowly dragged himself lower and lower.

“Wait, wait, I don’t think I can-” I gasped and clenched my teeth. A whine leaving me as I tried to move away from the painful stretch of him, but his arm; that wrapping around me kept me in place. A warm coo tickling my ear.

He would have eaten her out first. To taste what sweets she had to give, but she smelled so good. Her arousal and scent clouding his heightened senses strongly, getting him dazed off of her.

He wanted to push in more, but he knows just how small their little serpent is. Her walls already fluttering around him, gripping at him like a vice, making him groan.

He curled up as much as he could around his little serpent. His head nuzzling into her face, as his hips grinded down into her tight walls. Another whimper leaving her.

“Hydra.” She called his name. Her body quivering beneath him. Her hand coming forward to grab onto his gauntlet that held him above from crushing her. Pushing her body backwards in him, and just like that, he was a goner.

He rutted up into her, a cry leaving her as she clutched onto his gauntlet. Her walls clenching around him while he snarled out. Desperate to give her what she wanted. Desperate to breed her.

His other arm; still wrapped around her, kept her in place as his pace got faster, and faster. He could feel the bulge he created from just being inside of her. He could feel her submitting to him with each thrust, her body tensing up.

That’s it, little serpent. Cum for me.

She cried out underneath him, clawing at anything she can get a grip on. His armored chest rumbling against her back with his own moan. His teeth nibbling on her shoulder.

He felt her twitch beneath him as his seed stained her walls. His hips slowly gridding into her for a more hopeful effect. Slowly working himself up to pull another one.

“Little serpent?” The voice of Asclepius called out. Hydra snarling out until he realized it was just his brethren. Hips still grinding as he chittered to his brother. Telling him just how yielding their little serpent was being. They could have done this a long time ago.

“Brother, give her sometime to recover.” Asclepius reminded his brother. A whine coming out of him, then a chuff. “She won’t be able to.”

A whine left me as I felt Hydra move, feeling suddenly empty before I was gently pushed over on my back. The cold ground sending a shiver up my heated skin.

“There you are, Little serpent.” Asclepius purred. His armored form keeling down between my legs. His gauntlet slowly dragging against my thighs, slowly tearing off the rest of my clothes.

“A-Asclepius?” I called out. Confused on when he got here or maybe he was watching?

“Yes, little serpent? Think you can take another?” He asked, picking up my leg and throwing it over his shoulder. A groan coming out of his mouth as he exhaled. The scent of her driving him crazy. “Oh, I think you can, little serpent. You smell so good.”

He gave a singular lick to her thigh, tasting her, and hydras arousal on the inside of her thighs. Her cute little whimpers making him all to eager she shove her down on him as well while he lined himself up and slowly pushed himself in. The length of him brushing up in all the right places in side of her gummy walls.

“Hydra.” She called out to the Astartes in front of him, reaching out for his brother. Not bothering to acknowledge that he was pleasuring himself with his own hand as he came forward, kneeling in front of her.

She grabbed ahold of his armor, and tugged his form closer. A high pitched moan coming from her as she tensed up. Shuting herself up by giving Hydra a sloppy kiss. A rumbling purr going through him.

"Already? Come on my litter serpent, you can give me one more, please?" He groaned and begged. His form leaning over hers. His teeth nibbling on her neck as she moaned into Hydras’ mouth.

“I-I don’t kno-” She tried to speak, but got shushed by Hydra. His skillful tounge, and his thrusting inside of her not helping her thinking process at all.

“Come on, little serpent.” He said, his pace picking up at the thought of climaxing with her to ensure probability. His gauntlet squeezing her thigh.

A silent cry fell into Hydras mouth. Hydras seed staining the front side of her body while his recoated inside of her. His hips gridding into her just like Hydra did.

Nearly plopping to the ground, if it weren’t for Hydra to catch me. My legs were numb, and started to get sore as he lifted me up bridal style in his arms, and placed me on a nearby surface. Soft purring coming from both the hydras before it was replaced by a much deeper rumble.

“I believe, it is my turn then?” They asked. The two hydras backing off slightly, growling out in dissatisfaction.

“It’s only…fair.” Asclepius responded. A deep hum coming from the voice who I barely recognized as Solor.

"Oh, little maiden." He purred out. His gauntlets settling on my hips, practically covering them. “How far did you think you could go?”

I whined. Sh*t, f*ck. I don’t think I can handle him.

“No matter, I’ll always find you.” He cooed, taking off his codpiece. Lining himself up.

"You smell like them. I don't like that." He stated, getting some disapproving growls. "Let's change that, little maiden."

Her back arched up in shock. Mouth dropping open in a silent cry. Legs desperately trying to close around him in attempt to push him away.

Solor growled out, pushing himself in more. Winding her to the surface. Tears staining her cheeks as she managed to let out a whimper.

Solor cursed in his language. Thrusting deep, and hard inside of her. Each one giving her stars in her eyes.

“S-Solor, please.” She begged, receiving an angered growl in return.

“Who are you, to run from me?” He snarled. His hips snapping up, getting a loud cry. “To run off like that?”

Her body shook around him. Another cry coming from her mouth as her body twitched around him. Her vision fading black as worried coos echoing out around her.

“Yes, they we go my little maiden.”

-

Waking back up was not pleasant. Everything hurt. A single move I’ve made against the soft blankets of the bed made me ache. A pitiful whine leaving me.

Gentle hands pulled me into a chest. A chuff of hot breath on top of my head as deep purrs soothed my pulsing brain. His hands dragging up and down my numbed out legs.

Trying my best to return the much more soft gesture. I could only nuzzle myself underneath Leviathans chin; recognizing him from his longing purrs alone.

I whined at him feeling him gently as he could slid himself inside of me. His girth giving me a stretch, but his deep purrs were soothing.

"Please, be gentle." I whined at him, getting a soft coo in response. His hips slowly thrusting into mine. Soft moans heating up his neck while I nibbled a little. Earning a teasing, but slow thrust.

I softly called his name, feeling that build up once again. Arms trying to wrap around the giant in front of me in order to stabilize myself as I approached my high. Feeling how his seed filled me.

We didn’t move from one another. Simply basking in the afterglow the session had provided. His hands gently tracing all around my body. Avoiding specific areas that were bruised until eventually I feel back asleep.

-

Aftercare was a completely different session.

Leviathan took me to the bathroom. His arms settling me down softly into the bubble bath with him sliding right behind me. His purrs creating vibrations through it making me laugh at it. His head nuzzling the top of my head.

Asclepius took care of me afterwards, bandaging anything up they might have caused last night. Providing kisses here and there to sooth my pain when in reality he felt bad for causing such damage.

Hydra provided some food and water. Making sure I ate after the heavy sessions, but luckily enough he didn’t provide raw meat either.

Last was Solor. He came in at the end of the day. Slowly coming in through the bedroom door before crawling onto the bed. His forehead touching mine in a silent apology before he completely laid his head down on my chest, nuzzling into it. My hands slowly threading through his hair.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #yandere space marine #x reader #yandere #fanfic #fanfiction #oc: hydra #oc: leviathan #oc: asclepius #alpha legion #oc: solor #gray knight #tw: smut #to much pov switching? #mating press March #get fed lol #oneshot #adeptus astartes #astartes x reader #space marine #space marine x reader #ask

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: Ser Klatterbell the Unbidden

You’re not on his list, but he’ll scratch you out anyway

Strange winds blow as the solstice nears, and though folk take shelter by their hearths and in the company of loved ones, a new threat rises beneath the boughs of the old pine forest. A hobgoblin knight recently crossed over from fairlyland, doing the bidding of a terrible archfey of bleakest winter who takes umbridge with the local festivities.  Klatterbell is here to grinch things over, to steal presents and disrupt festivities,  to douse the hope that mortals need to get through the season, and he’s going to have fun doing it.  He and his rowdy goblin warband have the moral temperament of a stone packed into a snowball, callous sadism wrapped in the trappings of yuletide play.

Klatterbell has a list given to him by his master, the names of those causing a ruckous that threaten to disturb the winterfey’s sorrowful sleep. In the manner of most fairy-things, these transgressions are innocuous carried by the wind into the feywild :  The song a farmer hums as she feeds her chickens, a baby’s laugh playing peekaboo, children arguing about the rules of a game they just made up, the ticking of a new clock a merchant bought to decorate his office. 

The hob knight has been tasked with bringing silence to the mortal realm, specifically by finding the transgressors on his list and dragging them back to his master’s desolate dungeons. To this end, he has his minions skulking about eavesdropping, or ambushing folk on the road, demanding to know the locations of random strangers. 

For his part, the unbidden quite likes being able to thow his weight around in the mortal realm and wants to tarry there for as long as possible. He’s got a magical sack that he can stuff victims in, putting them into an enchanted slumber and making them easy to transport. While the disapearances mount Klatterbell styles himself a yuletide bandit lord, stockpiling the fine things of the season while putting off finishing his job. 

Adventure Hooks: 

Something’s a bit off at this year’s winter festival. People are avoiding their neighbours, stealing from the market stalls, getting extra raucous at the faire games, or gorging themselves in the feasting tents. The actual cause is that some of Klatterbell’s gobbish minions have disguised themselves as their victims and snuck away to the festivities, intending on indulging themselves in all the mortal world has to offer.

Theoretically Klatterbell could be something of a local boogyman, having been the cause of disappearances over years, or maybe decades as he forestalls his working vacation away from the feywild. Every winter his list gets longer and he expends the minimum effort to scratch off a few names to keep his masters happy.  What chaos then when the party finally confronts him and rescues his victims:  people who have been gone for years suddenly returned, while others more recently taken are still missing, sent off to the feywild to buy the hob time.  

In an act of utter villainy, Klatterbell and his followers have KIDNAPPED Yangle the Yulegoat, beloved feywild emissary of good cheer. Some of the kids on the edge of town saw it happen, after a group of hobs descended on their home, raided their larder, and used it as cover to ambush the visiting festive spirit. From what the children overheard, the hobs had intended to roast Yangle right then and there, but were so full up with stuffing themselves from the family’s winter provisions that they were going to have to drag the goat back to their old fortress in the darkest thicket of the snowy wood and save him for later. There’s no time to waste in raiding the goblin fortress, though perhaps if the party is clever they can disguise themselves as fey and slip in with some of the otherworldly guests invited by Klatterbell for the feast. 

Also feel free to check out the comments of this post for some holiday hijinx suggested by my followers. 

#winter #wintertide #villain #villain goblin #villain fey #rescue mission #festival #encounter town #encounter village #encounter forest #fey #goblins #feywild

[sefusneezed]

World Building Proposal: Let me know if this vibes with what you and your friends have got so far:

Archmagos Von Kuronos has set aside sections of Ineptus Anser's surface for "Development by Off-World Benefactors." These areas are FAR from his home in the capital hive city. They were also formerly the domains of some annoying challengers to the Archmagos authority. Now they are the homes to the following three groups:

A tau expeditionary group led by a water caste spy-mistress and her ethereal wife. Their relationship is forbidden but they don't care. The ethereal never wanted to be a leader, she was just born into the job, so she lets her wife call the shots. This has resulted in a lot of support for water caste projects while everyone else gets secondary priority. The other castes are getting a bit disgruntled by this favoritism but are too paranoid to act, because of the spies. Life for humans within their territory is almost utopian, with conditional access to food, shelter and health-care. The Tau pay their dues to the Archmagos by importing food to his hive.

Ork Mek-boy clan called "Da Scrappa 'Eads" that are more interested in tinkering with "Tekmologee" than doing a waaaaugh. Scrappa'Eads own several reclamation facilities, a squig-power plant, and an "Aka-dumb-me fer Runts!" Because of mandatory enrollment in the academy, the vast majority of the orks are Mek-Boys and Bionorks. Runts that attempt to escape their education, as well as rebellious human slaves, will get arrested and imprisoned by The Git-Catchers, a grot and squig police department. Speaking of squigs, the orks were able to breed the beasts to be able to convert toxic waste into high quality fuel. Which is what they use to pay rent to Kuronos.

Chaos warband consisting of a Iron Warrior Warpsmith, an Alpha Legion Biomancer, a thrice-bound Daemonhost known as The Guardian and The Host, and a Word Bearers Preacher. The four (five) of them had come into possession of thousands of mysterious artifacts from raiding a space hulk. They needed some place in the middle of nowhere to sort, test, and store their loot, and so they chose Ineptus Anser. Archmagos Von Kuronos has been very accommodating to the war band, only demanding that he paid in artifact testing data in exchange for use of facilities.

So this is what I've got. I understand if it's too much and you won't use any of it. But hopefully you enjoyed reading it.

Yeah this is definitely something these morons would do all sorts of things can go down on this planet 💀💀💀 maybe not von kuronar because he's racist and the most dogmatic of the gang but the other two (who i literally NEVER post about rip all the lore just sits in my brain and never sees the light of day) would definitely just outvote him and then do some silly chaos and xenos stuff.

#asks #oc #40k #ineptus mechanicus #archmagos von kuronar

[ratasum]

Oh do tell lore about Silas and Ahlma. How did they end up together?

So Silas and Ahlma didn't officially meet until after the timeline that would've contained the personal story. Initially, Silas had been with the Ash Legion as a Flame Legion "deserter," though since he had no real warband, Malice largely used him to keep an eye on the commander and figure out what Gaheron was up to.

Ahlma, on the other hand, spent that time with the Durmand Priory. She was never really happy there, even if it did let her see her cousins more often than she might not otherwise (Qirri and @wall-legion's Rissia). Still, her skill at identifying reagents was exemplary, so she served a purpose even if she wasn't thriving.

After Zhaitan's defeat, Silas left the High Legions to join the Order of Whispers... Ahlma herself, however, had left the Priory around Claw Island, and made a name for herself within the Order of Whispers instead. And when Silas joined up, he was partnered up with her to help teach him the ropes. And Ahlma was enamored physically from the word go. And who could blame her? He was quiet, thoughtful, and incredibly handsome for a charr.

Their early months together, however, did have a lot of speed bumps. It was during that time Silas learned she was a trans woman. He may have been nuFlame, but some of the more toxic ideals of the legion were embedded in him from when he was a cub, and the first thing he asked was "why would you want to be a female?"

Ahlma wasted absolutely no time making sure he knew why that was nowhere near an acceptable question.

But they worked through it. Silas learned, however slowly, more about Ahlma's lived experiences. It took another couple of years for them to really start getting close. Silas came to appreciate Ahlma's unique point of view, even if he worried about her glee in experimenting with potions (she is, mechanically, a Harbinger, but she largely got there on her own by accident). And Ahlma began to appreciate more about how Silas got where he was and what he was meant to be doing, and how hard it was to adjust to this life outside Efram's circle.

About two years into their relationship, they came across a small old Flame contingent, and while fighting them off Ahlma was cornered by a shaman intent on "teaching her to understand her true place." It was then she learned about something else: as a result of the experiments by his sire, @commanderhorncleaver's Oryen, Silas's mesmer magic is terrifyingly strong, allowing him to pull the deepest fear from someone's mind and render them as horrifically realistic illusions. After scaring off the contingent, he spent hours in their tent checking over Ahlma for injuries, and while she was trying to soothe him his head jerked up, staring at her for a moment before he asked a very different question.

Something like this:

They've been dating ever since.

#oc asks #necrologist ahlma #silas dreadpyre

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

This world's evil god sucks, I'LL SHOW YOU HOW IT'S DONE! (Chapter 5)

A Warhammer Fantasy Isekai

Chapter List

Varxus accepts a task given by Commander Rhys in hopes his warband has the chance to become true warriors.

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: Descriptions of Violence, confusion, and friendship.

Chapter 5 - Warriors in Progress

After a brief distraction of Lena and Mason purchasing a few books from a nearby stall, they joined Varxus who was waiting outside the Guard’s headquarters. He stood in front of the door frame, staring at one of the guards who were attempting to meet his eye. Their legs were quivering since he completely towered over them, and everyone knew he could kill them without much effort, but admirably attempted to do their job.

“Listen, you can’t just burst through the entrance like that tavern!” One of the guards said with a shaky voice.

“Then get him out here yourselves,” Varxus replied, what little patience he had left clearly thinning. “Or would you prefer we converse through a hole I can barely see through?”

“We’d prefer if you didn’t cause even more property damage!”

Varxus clenched his fist, clearly ready to begin causing human damage before Lena and Mason stepped in.

“W-We can get him!” Lena quickly interrupted.

The guard seemed relieved at their arrival, incorrectly assuming 

the two of them alone would be enough to halt his wrath indefinitely.

“I’ve had enough of following orders from mortals.” Varxus snapped. “Lena, Mason, stand back.”

“H-Hey! I’m warning you, don’t-” 

Varxus grabbed part of the stone frame and yanked it, ripping out a hole sizable enough for him to squeeze by and scaring everyone who witnessed it. Some of the guards froze completely while others attempted to aim their weapons. One glance from Varxus was all it took for them to stand down as Lena’s face sheepishly scrunched up. Mason’s face was hidden under his helmet still, but it was obvious from the way his body mimicked Lena’s actions that he felt the same. Staring at the guard who spoke to him directly, he dropped the stone almost at his feet, and walked in without a word. Lena and Mason followed behind him as his footsteps echoed throughout the entire building. 

Varxus examined the doors and found one at the far end that had far more ornate decorations than the others and assumed that was where Rhys was. As he approached it, he ran into the exact problem as before. Lena made motions to open it, but instead Varxus held her back, raising a clenched fist. He knocked on the door with three swings, almost resulting in the entire door frame coming off.

“Never charge through a door. Knock first. Remember that if we are fighting in a building.” Varxus told Lena and Mason.

 When the door opened a few moments later, Varxus could only see Rhys from the neck down. What Rhys saw outside his door was Lena with a new suit of armour and an apologetic expression, Mason who was still looking back at a newly broken door frame, and Varxus from the waist down. Rhys’ eyes glanced at the panicking guards, then back to the group.

“Well, I suppose I know who to thank for our new transom,” Rhys blankly remarked.

“Quit wasting my time and tell us what it is you want done,” Varxus bluntly stated.

Rhys paid no attention to his rudeness and looked at Lena and Mason.

“Now that you properly look equipped for battle, I’ll get to the point. Lindrow is about to come under invasion by undead.”

Lena and Mason looked at each other, confused. It was clear they had never seen or heard of undead. Varxus on the other hand completely straightened his back and his attention became razor sharp. Noticing that he had Varxus’s full attention, Rhys continued.

“At first it started with a wandering skeleton near our borders. Then it escalated to a group with a few zombies. Our guards were easily able to handle them at the beginning, but injuries are cropping up and we’re slowly getting surrounded.” Rhys crossed his arms, studying the group’s body language. “Each time we find a new group it’s a different location, and it’s been circling our territories.”

“They’re gauging you.” Varxus observed.

“Precisely. Who ever the bastard that’s planning this attack is, they’re crafty. We’ve held off attacks from bandits, the Dark Lord’s forces, and even other monsters before. Even managed to find each of the sources and destroy it without a single one of them entering town. But they’ve kept up the pressure without dedicating a full force, while we’re busy getting whittled down.”

Varxus mind raced back to all the times in his old world that he had battled the fanatical servants of the Great Necromancer Nagash, the cunning Vampire Counts, and the disciplined unending legions of the Tomb kings. No matter how many you killed, it’d be pointless if you did not cut the head off the army. He had even seen fellow Chosen brought down by being drowned in an ocean of skeletal bodies, hacking away at their armour. The very existence of the undead was an anathema to the powers of Chaos. Varxus had long ago learned not to underestimate them, and the same would still stay true now.

“Do you know their master?” Varxus asked, his tone of voice becoming less hostile and more thoughtful. If they were to take down the undead, he needed every scrap of information.

“I do not. However, there is a two hundred year old legend about an old witch.” Rhys replied.

Varxus narrowed his eyes, though his helmet’s visor hid that. He did not take Rhys for a man to put truth to legends, which meant he must have a lead.

“The legend says she was a simple woman who fell into the dark arts and lusted for power. She isolated herself from her home village and began raising the dead for her own amusement, and plotted revenge on the people who wronged her. I don’t have a clue if she actually is the one behind these attacks, but I sent some scouts to the location of the legend weeks ago. I’ve yet to hear from them. Your job is to find out if our mastermind is using that legend to their advantage.”

“What about the scouts?” Lena spoke up. “Shouldn’t we be looking for them, too?”

Rhys looked at Lena for a moment before the faintest hint of a smile grew on the corner of his lips.

“I hope for the best, but expect the worst, miss Lena. If you do manage to find them, or at the very least their remains, that would suffice.”

Mason then chimed in with his own question.

“And if we don’t happen to find the attacker?” 

Rhys’ face darkened.

“If that is the case, then Lindrow will hold out the best we can. I have sent a courier to Dalery, petitioning the queen’s aid. If you decide to stay for that duration, I don’t particularly care. Nor would your lord, I presume.”

“It seems that you would welcome former soldiers of the Dark Lord more than I, so I can kill two birds with one stone. I can train my soldiers here, and defend this town.”

“Because these former soldiers did not have a choice whether to serve the Dark Lord or not. Whatever hole you crawled out of, I assume you did.”

Varxus leaned forward, his fist clenching and the armour making an audible crunch.

“You will assume nothing of the realm I came from. This town would be lucky to have a single child unflayed if anyone other than me had arrived.”

The other Chosen he fought with would have revelled butchering the townspeople of Lindrow and Pran, even if it served them no purpose. And that was assuming they too cast aside the Chaos gods, not even considering their hunger for more power.

“So you say,” Rhys replied. “I will personally make contact with your soldiers then so that we can avoid a confrontation, and gather them to Lindrow.” 

Varxus carefully studied Rhys’ face. If he planned for betrayal, he hid it well. But from the way he was speaking, he did not appear the type to stab him in the back with treachery. Depending on the situation, Varxus might have acted upon the betrayal himself, but he’d be right back to square one if he did so. And if anything, it’d just be a minor inconvenience if it did happen. Varxus didn’t have terribly much to lose, and far more to gain.

“Very well. Tell them that is time to become true warriors, and they will follow. In the meantime, we will attempt to dispose of this undead master.”

Rhys nodded. He went back into his room to grab a map before returning and handing it over to Lena. 

“May the Goddess bless your path.” Rhys said, putting his fist over his heart. Varxus nodded in response. He gestured to Lena and Mason to follow, which they did so after bowing farewell to Rhys. Rhys watched them depart as the guards quickly got out of Varxus’s way as he ducked slightly under the hole and disappeared from sight.

…

It was about two hours later when they were beginning to approach the location marked on the map. It was deep into the wilderness, with the dirt path slowly getting devoured by the greenery. Varxus remained on high alert, his eyes constantly darting left to right and his ears perked up to hear the smallest of creatures. Though, what he had been hearing for a while was Lena and Mason speaking with one another.

Lindrow seemed to finally break the ice between the two, and spoke excitedly about the books they had purchased. One was an abbreviated history of the world, and the other was a children’s story, apparently. Varxus knew they had been speaking, but he paid no mind to the contents of their conversation. Varxus considered silencing the two so they could concentrate, but even to his own amazement, pushed the idea aside. After all, his fellow Chosen would not have fought together if they could not rely upon each other. A single weak link in a team can lead to disastrous results, especially with the prey they seeked. Perhaps if they found allies in each other, they’d be far more effective in combat. 

With that being said, Lena found it very easy to find conversation with her father’s killers. Likewise, Mason appeared to enjoy conversations that weren’t about torching the next village, or whatever asinine orders his previous leader had him commit to. Varxus kept this information in mind. It’d no doubt come in use later when they were in a better position to think about conquering the world. Now, Varxus’s mind wandered into his original goal. Gaining enough power to usurp the Chaos Gods.

“...With the pitiful displays I have seen, what power can this world offer me?” Varxus thought to himself. The more he thought about it, everyone he encountered would have been absolutely annihilated if they were to fight anyone from his world. The Empire, the undead, the forces of Chaos, not even mentioning the other lowlier races like his own Dwarves and Elves. All would laugh at how mundane this world is.

“...Is it this world that is outrageous in its simplicity, or is my own that is the outlier…?” Varxus had never even considered what other worlds were like. All he knew had been war, death, and servitude. Although this world had its own fair of strife, it did not seem to be in such a dire state like his own. He did not like the idea of being in a peaceful world, it just didn’t feel natural. 

As he continued walking, he could only hear the sounds of his armoured boots crushing the branches underneath…Why were Lena and Mason not speaking? He turned around to face them and realised they had stopped their conversation and looked around confused.

“Milord, did you not hear that?” Mason asked.

“Tch, this world has been dulling my awareness with these questions…!” Varxus cursed himself for allowing these thoughts to distract him. He listened closely and heard a very familiar sound. The sound of bones clattering.

Varxus reached for his Soul-Splitter and nodded at the two silently. They looked at each other confused before Lena’s eyes went wide, and they instantly reached for their weapons without another word. Some tiny bit of pride flickered in his chest for them. They were beginning to learn. It was a start at least. Finally letting his distractions die down, he then heard the skeletons emerge deep in the woods on their left.

“It appears it is now our turn to be gauged.” Varxus said calmly, his fingers clenching tightly around the rope bands of his grip.

Ten human skeletons with rusted weapons emerged from the shadows, all of them slow and out of sync with one another. Yet their gazes were all locked onto them. They were at best a minute away at their current speed. Varxus felt some form of relief the more he examined them. The skeletal soldiers under the command of the Vampire Counts moved in perfect synchronised harmony like puppets. If they were this disorganised, that meant their true masters weren’t nearby, and they weren’t too great a threat. And now, Lena and Mason’s skills could be put to the test.

“If I had known we’d be fighting the undead, I’d have made you buy a mace. No matter, it is time to show your worth to me as warriors.” 

Despite Lena and Mason’s urgency and attention focusing on the skeletons slowly approaching, Varxus calmly walked in front of them.

“They are only this disorganised due to their masters not being present. Do not expect this fight, or the next one to ever be simple. Stay on your guard.”

“Yes, milord!” They replied.

Varxus stepped behind them, mostly to watch their fighting, but also to make sure no one flanked them. He had no doubt there’d be more on the way.

“Use your shields to deflect their blows and anticipate when and where an attack is coming. If you cannot even stop mindless skeletons, then you are of no use to me alive.”

Lena and Mason glanced at each other before gripping their swords.

“Show me what the mortals of this world are capable of.”

Lena heard his words loud and clear, and she tried to steady her breathing. She recalled how he fought in the village. Calmly, and with intent. Lena remembered the adrenaline coursing through her body when she saw her father dead on the floor. She imagined the skeletons that had sprung out from her nightmares as her father’s killers to steel herself. Already, she began to feel that same anger that pushed aside her fear. She grit her teeth as Mason stepped forward, shield raised. She mimicked his actions and followed closely with her buckler. They ran towards them, to which some were raising their arms and ready to strike.

Mason used his shield to deflect the first strike, standing in place. He let the skeleton attack again, and the moment it bounced off, he used his sword’s hilt to smash it on the side of its head. It sent fragments of bone flying and it crumpled lazily onto the grass. Lena hesitated joining in before realising another skeleton was approaching his flank. 

“Mason, behind you!” Lena shouted.

She quickly ran behind him and blocked the attack as the skeleton swung downwards. Despite her attacker only being made of bone, the force almost completely pushed her back, almost tripping. Before it could attack again, she used her buckler to slam against its ribcage and shove it backwards.

“Duck!” Mason replied.

 Mason spun around and struck with his blade, knocking the weapon out of the skeleton's hand. 

Varxus watched with mild interest. Mason clearly appeared to be more competent than the other soldiers he served with. Not only that, Lena was taking advantage of her smaller stature and coordinating. Far more than what he had seen anyone do thus far. It pained him as a former Chosen to watch fighting mere feet away and not be part of it, but as a lord watching his minions fight, he began to swell with pride. They were finally learning.

Lena rushed in and kicked the skeleton’s legs, snapping it and making it fall face first. Before it could retaliate, Lena used the rim of her buckler to smash its head in repeatedly, to the point of overkill. Varxus shrugged at that. He couldn’t criticise since most marauders he knew did the same, especially the followers of Khorne. Mason on the otherhand had a startling amount of self restraint, his shield raised as he watched the remaining eight close in. They started to encircle them, to which Lena began to slightly panic. Varxus decided to finally step in, part of it to make sure his seemingly only competent fighters wouldn’t get killed. Though it was mostly because he had enough watching and wanted in on the admittedly mundane action.

His armoured gauntlet grabbed the skull of a skeleton before effortlessly raising it off the ground and smashing it into the one in front of Lena, snapping her out of it.

“Do you plan to avenge your father by standing there, cowering? Take their skulls, spill their guts on the floor! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!”

Lena now snapped out of her panic and now her face shifted into confusion.

“The what god?”

Varxus crushed the other skeleton under his armoured foot and shook his head with a tired sigh.

“Nothing. Force of habit.”

He turned expectedly at Lena who refocused her efforts on an incoming skeleton. She let the swing drop as she nimbly leapt to its right and slashed her sword against its body, bisecting it in half down the middle. The skeleton exploded into dust as she rushed over to help Mason. He let two of them get close as his shield deflected, both swinging directly one after the other, attacking side by side. Mason swung his shield wide when the one on his right attacked, making its sword arm hit the left skeleton. Taking advantage, he slashed at their necks, decapitating the skeletons. Lena rushed in from his side to engage the last three who were spaced out. Mason and Varxus quickly joined her.

Lena caught its attention and lured it away with her buckler raised. Varxus decided to take care of the other two by barreling straight into them, letting the weight and charge of his armour do the work by shattering them upon impact. Mason decided to help Lena by attacking from behind, using the hilt to smash the back of its head, with Lena leaping to its side then stabbing it several times on the head, the undead energies quickly dissipating. 

“A-Are we clear?” Mason asked, his panting audible through his helmet.

Both he and Lena were drenched in sweat already while Varxus had barely breathed the entire duration of the fight.

“Listen closely, and you’ll have your answer.” Varxus replied.

The two steadied their breaths as they tried to listen to the sounds of the forest around them. When everything was silent, they in fact heard more skeletons approaching from the opposite direction. Varxus grunted once he saw their reactions, which was surprise. This time it sounded like there were even more bones rattling than before.

“You two will become overrun if we are to linger. These are most likely scouts who are recognizing that you're a considerable threat and sending more.”

“If we go to the witch, will that mean they’re going to get stronger?!” Lena asked.

“Most likely. Assuming she is even there.”

Varxus suddenly froze in place as he heard something unnatural. It sounded like bones moving, but not like the other skeletons. This was faster, much faster.

“An enemy fast approaches, prepa-” Varxus didn’t even have time to finish before a skeletal wolf leapt from the darkness and in front of them. Unlike the other undead, this one had a purple energy radiating from its eye socket and was far more animated. It moved as if it were still flesh.

“T-That one is really fast!” Mason remarked, failing to hide his awe.

Varxus adopted a combat stance that indicated he took this threat far more seriously. If an undead moved this lively, then it can only mean one thing.

“The master is nearby!” Varxus shouted. He prepared to attack the wolf before seeing another human skeleton emerge, just as animated. It expressively flailed its limbs about, as if it were waving hello, and appeared to be unarmed. Before any of them could comment on its strange movements, the one pulling their strings revealed itself. 

Compared to most necromancers Varxus had seen, she was the strangest he’d seen. A fair skinned woman emerged from the darkness, dressed in black and adorned with gold trimmings. Her eyes and hands glowed with a dark purple aura, calmly walking towards them with a sinister smile. She wore gloves that went up to her shoulders and leggings that revealed part of her thighs. Most notable of all, was the condition of her appearance. Nothing had holes or even seemed ragged. All of it appeared brand new, and her long brown hair was smooth and accompanied by a small golden hair clip. Her left hand had a small gold ring on it, and was just as gaudy as the rest of her clothing. She waved hello before Varxus turned to Lena and Mason.

“KILL THE WITCH!” Varxus shouted. Without hesitation, he raised one hand and channelled the winds of magic into it. The woman was about to say something, no doubt a curse, before blue flames shot out of Varxus, blinding and searing reality. The grass in front of him ignited as the woman snapped her fingers and a wall of bones suddenly emerged from the floor, deflecting it.

Lena and Mason rushed the flanks and raised their shields as the wall came down. The woman still stood in place, though her smile seemed to be fading upon seeing the two. Her skeletal wolf pounced upon Mason, using its limbs to trap his arms onto the ground as the human skeleton grabbed Lena by her arms. Varxus ran for the necromancer with his Soul-Splitter raised and about to strike before she leapt backwards, barely dodging the attack as it slammed onto the ground. Skeletal hands erupted from the earth and grabbed the head of the hammer, to which Varxus left it on the floor and swung his fist at her.

This time, she was too slow to dodge and was struck in the face, making her fall to the floor. Before Varxus could finish the job, she quickly floated into the air, wiping off the blood from her mouth and relocating her jaw with a purple energy surrounding it. She looked down and saw that a good amount of blood had been splattered on her dress, making her seemingly good mood disappear entirely. So he wasn’t imagining it, that blow should have killed her. Looks like he’d find a worthy fight after-

His thoughts were interrupted as his feet were suddenly locked into place. The hands had dropped his hammer at least a dozen feet away and had him stay in place. He tried moving, but found he was unable to even lift it upwards. Whoever this necromancer was, she was clearly powerful. And he was about to take the brunt of it.

“Might I ask what an elf girl, a servant of the dark lord, and a stranger are doing attacking me when there is a legion of skeletons approaching us?” 

“I WILL HAVE YOUR SKULL ON MY BELT!!!” Varxus shouted out, trying to break the skeletal hands binding him with his fists. He saw Mason and Lena were struggling to break free from her familiar’s grips-...Why were they still alive? Shouldn’t they have just killed them and moved on to him?”

The necromancer floated back onto the floor, the purple aura slowly fading as she crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. She tapped her finger against her arm, waiting for an answer.

“Y-You’re attacking Lindrow, aren’t you?! We’re here to stop you!” Lena shouted out defiantly.

Varxus expected a mocking laugh in return or some kind of insult. Instead, the woman looked surprised. She remained still for a moment, unsure on how to respond. Instead, her human skeleton did so for her.

“Attacking Lindrow? Little lady, we’re mindin’ our own damn business!” the skeleton replied in a surprisingly human voice. It was deep and fast speaking, which seemed to catch Lena off guard. “Now we got a buncha nutjobs trying to kill us for trying to see what the commotions about!”

“M-Minding your business?” Mason asked, just as confused as Lena.

The wolf turned to its master, speaking in an elegant voice of a noblewoman.

“Are they perhaps after the guards? It has been several weeks, milady,” the wolf calmly stated. Now even Varxus was confused, relenting somewhat on trying to break free of his prison.

The woman was about to say something before finally looking up and noticing countless skeletons were approaching them. Her eyes turned towards the sky and realised the sun was preparing to set as well.

“Hm…I suppose we still have time,” the Necromancer shrugged as she nonchalantly approached Varxus. “Allow me to ask again. What are you doing here?”

“To kill you.”

“Clearly. Well, you mentioned Lindrow, so I can only assume the town has finally gathered courage to come and burn me at the stake.”

Something was not right. Varxus knew she clearly overpowered them, at least in magical prowess. Even as his hand’s energies dulled after being used for only a second, she barely used energies to hold her familiars together and bind him. In fact, the energy that let her repair the damages done seemed minimal as well. Why wasn’t she killing them?

“I’d rather you kill us than prattle on, witch.”

“Well, if you let this ‘witch’ prattle on for at least a few more seconds, maybe you can see that she doesn’t want to.”

Every thought process in Varxus’s head screeched to a halt. What madness has he gotten himself into? A necromancer who doesn’t want to kill? Then what in the seven hells is she doing?

“Milady? Should we not continue this conversation in the safety of home?” The wolf asked.

“Yeah, they’ll be on us in a couple minutes, boss!” The other skeleton exclaimed.

“Which is plenty of time, thank you for your concern.” She replied, dismissively waving a hand.

“We were told about a legend of a witch who lived up here, is that you?” Lena questioned, tilting her head over to make sure she was heard.

“Hah! I didn’t think anyone still believed I was up here.” The necromancer began to laugh, though not at Lena’s expense. “I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.” She looked at Varxus, and her smile began to come back.

“I do indeed raise the dead, but I doubt I’m the one you were hunting down.”

Varxus said nothing as his battle instincts raged on, screaming to crush her skull. Yet processing the words she was saying, some things were starting to align. If she wanted them and Lindrow dead, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation if some skeletal hands could hold the insane weight of hellforged armour in place. She offered her hand as a friendly gesture.

Varxus yanked her forearm to bring her in closer for an attack, only to rip the entire thing off unintentionally. Lena and Mason gasped in horror while Noura chuckled. He stared at the arm, then back to her. Her reaction finally seemed to make his adrenaline die down. Her familiars just sighed as if this were a common occurrence. What kind of Necromancer was she?!

“...Varxus.” He blankly stated. “Unbind me, and I will hand back your appendage.”

Noura motioned to her familiars to drop Lena and free Mason. Her remaining arm hovered over the bone socket that was bleeding profusely, a purple aura glowing over it. Her smile remained as Varxus finally felt his foot come free. He had half a mind to beat her to death with her own arm, but realised that’d probably be a fruitless effort, considering she was amused more than anything.

“D-Doesn’t that hurt?” Lena asked concerningly.

“Oh it’s going to hurt like hell, sweetie. But, I can worry about that when we get to my house.”

“Yeah, the boss doesn’t really care about that kinda thing anymore. You fleshies got names?” The skeleton asked, shrugging.

“...Lena.”

“I’m Mason.”

“Varxus, Lena, Mason. Pleasure to meet some new faces. My name is Noura. The wolf is Justine, and the other one is Castus.”

Justine elegantly bowed her head while Castus did a casual hand wave. Noura offered her other hand to Varxus again, still smiling. Varxus looked at her hand, her face, then her hand again. He reached his gauntlet forward, the hand being able to completely crush most of her arm in one grab with how big it was in comparison. He mindlessly shook it, moreso to finally get a move on before realising he didn’t hold back. When he let go, her other arm was completely folded into itself, bones and skin completely crushed. She laughed, confusing everyone, even her own familiars.

“It’s going to be lively with some new faces! Come now, I’ll make you all a fine meal.” Noura excitedly proclaimed, despite her one arm and stump flailing helplessly in the wind.

Lena looked as if she were about to throw up before receiving a reassuring skeletal pat by Castus.

“Eh, don’t worry, it looks worse than it actually is!” He casually brushed off.

“We need to get moving, milady.” Justine said again, impatience growing.

“Alright, everyone this way. The skeletons will lose interest since the sun is still out, so don’t worry about that.” Noura motioned for everyone to follow her with her stump, and her familiars promptly did so. Lena and Mason looked at each other and shrugged before tagging along. 

Varxus at first hated this world because it looked different. Then it was for the fact it's Dark Lord was evidently but a piss in the wind for the more advanced civilizations. And despite their notoriety, they were treated better than him? On top of that, the necromancer he met was more friendly than literally every person he’d known in his life combined? Even when he attempted to kill her, she just laughed. If it was solely a physical fight, he’d win no problem. But in a magical one, he’d get eviscerated without a second thought. It was the exact fear of the catgirl, come to fruition. 

“Why does nothing in this world make sense?” Varxus defeatedly asked.

Grabbing his Soul-Splitter, Varxus reluctantly joined them, his mind too broken to protest.

To be continued in Chapter 6

#original #fanfic #warhammer fanfic #crack fic #TWEGSISYHID

[meeeeeeese]

4, 5, and 13 for Sarvius 👁️👁️

4: How do they feel about their past/younger self? His overall sentiment is that he wasted a lot of his youth, with even happy memories being colored by the fact that he was trying to earn the affections of a sire who did not care about him. Now that he's a deserter he can't even look back on any friendships he had in flame fondly because, as far as he knows, they probably hate him now. He wishes he could go back and change something but he doesn't even really know what he could have done differently, he was bound to his fate the moment he awakened the power to call forth the void.

5: How do they feel about their family? Chosen and/or biological? Geez where to begin with Sarv's issues with his family. Obviously there's Oryen for whom he feels a complex bouquet of fear and resentment. He doesn't want to be in the same city as him, much less the same room. His feelings towards his large web of siblings and nephews/nieces are a lot more complex, he didn't really get to know any of them while he was in flame and now that he's out, he's too afraid to approach any of them. Right now, he doesn't think they know he exists and he doesn't want to risk the small life he's carved out for himself in Lion's Arch by walking up and saying hi. He still secretly thinks of his old flame warband as family, but he's not holding out hope that they feel the same way.

13: Is there anyone they'd like to be closer to than they are? I mentioned it a bit in the previous question but he does wish he could get to know Oryen's other wayward cubs. A lot of them have made pretty big names for themselves, be it as researchers or soldiers. And, they have the shared experience of having the world's shittiest sire! Unfortunately, he's too afraid to make the first move and besides, they don't generally spend much time in Lion's Arch and he definitely doesn't have the gold to spend on Asura Gate fees.

#sarvius longshade #moose oc posting #thanks for the ask!

[twistedapple]

A Tale of Brimstone and Storm

Wew it merely took me a month to finish that chapter, I need to be more consistent.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it, feedbacks are welcome! And worry not, Raphael will show up in chapter 2! Next chapter here.

BGM: 1, 2, 3. Full playlist here.

AO3 link here.

CW: General violence, blood, injuries...

Chapter 1 - In the Sand of Calimshan

The sun was yet to rise when five riders left the outskirts of Memnon, heading South-Southeast on the light steeds typical of the country. At this time of the year, it was easier to start any travel in the desert at the hour of the wolf, to cover more ground without suffering from the heat. The riders had left well-prepared as well, with saddle bags full enough to last a week, bivouac gear and outfits meant to protect from the burning sun and sharp wind.

They’d follow the Trade Way going all the way South to Calimport, but would head East to the Skyfire Waste one quarter of the way through. Travelling with a caravan could have made the ride simpler – safer, too – but the utmost discretion was required. They were on a secret mission ordered by Vizer Basri el Levni and Warlord Harun yn Ilhan el Mardin, the leaders of Memnon, each of them carefully selected to complete the order quickly and quietly. As they left the Scarlet City behind them, the group could be seen moving swiftly, their mantles and head scarves not letting much on about their respective identities – except for two pairs of twisting horns jutting from two scarves: Munir and Nasir, the twin tieflings. Nuria looked at their silhouettes while mentally reviewing the informations she had on them. They were hired swords, one favouring archery while the other had the classic scimitar and round shield fighting style of Calimshan. Even though they weren’t Calishites, they were definitely born and raised in the country –their name, behaviour and even the choices of weapons were typical. Then again, tieflings weren’t that uncommon in the region of Memnon. Fire genasi and Efreets had an affinity with them as fellows with a fiery disposition, and so they were easily accepted and a common sight as mercenaries. This sense of kinship could be seen in the friendly way they were interacting with the fire genasi, a certain Kartal yn Haberal – a wizard by trade, but an adventuring one who seemed to like putting his knowledge to the test by taking on missions, doubling it as a mean to climb the social ladder a bit as well. A clever way of doing things, Nuria admitted to herself. It was a decent mean to get good credentials and create a fine network to climb the social ladder – not the easiest feat, especially with the Calishite habit of staying in one’s lane. The last member of the party was Defne el Onur, the oddball of the group. Humans would usually be trapped into slavery, however this one was very much moving around freely. She was valued by Warlord Harun, most likely. After all, she was a Jhannivar nomad and a notoriously good ranger. The perfect person to act as a scout for warbands, especially in the desert she hailed from, and that status meant in turn that she could remain a free human, paid for her services at that. She was silently opening the way, her falcon circling above their heads as an added watch to her own vigilance.

Nuria herself was closing the march and keeping an eye out for any potential pursuer. The operation was based on a confidential cooperation between Vizer Basri of Memnon and Vizer Shahrokh of Calimport however, in the fashion of Calimshan, both of them were also secretly coveting the object of this collaboration for themselves, as it meant a potential for more power. For this reason, in a gesture of good will, Shahrokh had sent her as well to keep everything balanced. And now, she was currently known as Gamze, an Air Genasi mage in the personal service of Shahrokh – she hadn’t missed the telling looks when she had presented herself as such, but ignored them. It was, after all, very much true that she was in his service, no matter how they interpreted that. Basri accepted her almost immediately and Nuria found him a bit too eager at the idea of potentially holding a valuable hostage to pressure Shahrokh. Gamze, however, stayed silent on the topic. It wasn’t her place to comment on any of that, nor fully understand the scope of the situation – she was, after all, just a mage.

Now, they were crossing the desert and heat kept rising as the day went on. Their outfits protected them from the heat and the sun, but they still paced their rhythm to preserve the horses. Better be a bit slower and get back alive than find themselves stranded by foot in this hellscape, created millennia ago by the very genies that had later been imprisoned at its center – the same center they were targeting, as the location was near the now empty Spinning Keep that had held the Calimemnon Crystal up until about a century ago. The area was dangerous, both in its very nature and in the amount of armed bands skirmishing to maintain some form of territory. As for the place this little group was aiming for, well, it was in the Stone City of Mardun – “City” being quite generous considering the place, carved in a local mountainous basin about as barren as the larger general area, had been allegedly abandoned for gods know how long.

The first night was welcome, as they had spent the entire day riding – the heat made it difficult to stop for a break during the day, so they had eaten while still in the saddle. The horses weren’t suffering however, as they were of a sturdy breed meant for such climate and could even endure three days without water. Each took a turn to guard their small camp that night, although Gamze suspected it would be uneventful. She used the peace of her turn to focus intensely in the quiet of the night. Grains of sand rustled under the now cool wind, the nocturnal breeze almost like a whisper. Calim’s Breath was its name, and Gamze lent it her most attentive ear as she was starting to feel her suspicions being confirmed. But they wouldn’t be attacked now, it would be in poor timing.

The second day hadn’t been different from the first one, with the exception that they would be able to rest in Dashadjen, the only town in the area. It was an old city, its fortified walls of clay and sand almost camouflaging it in the middle of the desert if it hadn’t been for the perpetual agitation of the caravans and travellers of various flavours passing by for a quick stop. Gamze was fine with it, urban centers had always been her preferred terrain anyway, and now the night promised to provide more entertainement – at least for her. The small group left their horses to rest in the large stables close to the entrance of the town, before finding some decent beds to spend the night – although Munir and Kartal also had made a point of finding the local festhall to get themselves some bedwarmers and have a good time before things got more serious. This in turn had Nasir raise an eyebrow.

-Are you two serious? Don’t you think we have better to do right now?

-Well now, now? Not really, no.

-Gods brother, are you gonna be that type of person?

-We’ll be able to enjoy all of that once we’re done with that trip! Can’t you two keep it in your pants for a few more days?

-Well Mr. Sourpuss Downer, it’s our money and we’re doing what we want with it.

-Yep, and what if we spend a couple of bicenta here anyway? It’ll be fine, the place is secure! Besides... Defne, you will look out for anything suspicious, will you?

Defne, who was on her way to the roof to take care of her falcon, rolled her eyes before sharing a look with Gamze.

-I guess both Gamze and I will have to do that.

-It seems we will, aren’t you lucky, boys? You’ll owe us though.

-Wait you’re opening a tab on us? Aren’t we good friends already?

-A service is a service, love.

Gamze gave Munir her sweetest smile, all dimples and crinkling eyes – a pinkish shade dusted his blue-grey skin.

-Alright, alright. Next night you two will have a full sleep.

-Nasir, you coming with us?

For all of his protests, Nasir seemed to feel challenged by his brother’s insult and nodded to Kartal before following the two other men outside. So much for acting like a reasonable person. Gamze kept her thoughts to herself and made herself comfortable on her bed while Defne left to spend time with her falcon on the roof - she needed to rest, her own entertainment would happen when the moon was high; she had some mice to swat away.

She left the shared room only after Nasir, Munir and Kartal had come back and crashed in their respective bed, not in the freshest state but at least they hadn’t disappeared for the whole night. She used her natural ability to move swiftly and silently, sliding out of sight and earshot in a few seconds. Her goal was the stables – more specifically, the path leading to them, that she intended to watch from the Thieves’ Highway. With a ring allowing her to speak to animals, she gathered information from a local tabby cat, trotting swiftly nearby with its tail swishing in annoyance.

-Ah, for once the bipeds are exploring the rooftops!

-Rooftops are the most interesting places there is! I trust you know your way around here, to say such a thing.

-Indeed I do, and it seems we’re both on the prowl tonight...

-That we are, both for a mouse or two.

-Hm, they certainly are making things compelling near the stables, although not tonight – some of your kinds have been sniffing around and scared them away.

-How about I avenge your failed hunt, then? With a little service in exchange?

-Hmmm... A refreshing proposition, what would you like to know...

As the tabby cat accompanied her to the stables, it provided a quick description of what it had seen: a man and a woman both smelling like smoke, checking a bay and a black horse before looking at five other horses a bit further. This didn’t please Gamze, who followed the cat to investigate the stables. Her first target was her grey mare, Banu - her beloved personal horse. She took some time to inspect her, then check her saddle and bridle. Thankfully, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The tabby cat haughtily complained that she was also making mice run away by walking around the way she did. Gamze told it to go back to the roof of the tavern, she’d give it a bit of jerky and some water as a thanks once she’d be back. Then, she used the ring again to have a little chat with her mare – using the second of the three charges she had available on her ring. It wouldn’t be a waste of usage, however. Banu was prompt to complain in her usual moody manner, shaking her head while Gamze petted her neck.

-Took you long enough! I thought about causing some ruckus to attract your attention.

-The kitty told me about some suspicious happenings in there. Were any of you presented food? Did you eat it?

-Well I had to stop that foolish chestnut over there from eating things given by strangers, but otherwise, no.

The mare scratched the straw with a hoof, uncovering a visibly spat carrot. Gamze crouched to pick it up and inspect it. The center had been emptied, and there seemed to be some sort of powder filling it  - not necessarily to kill the horses, but at least to weaken them and strand her group in the desert. It certainly wasn’t a prospect that Gamze was looking forward to.

-If there’s one thing I dislike, it’s when humans think I’m a fool. I took it, but waited for them to go away before spitting it. Made sure none of the others ate it as either.

-As clever as ever, well done darling. The equipment hasn’t been tempered with? Hm let me check...

While she checked each saddle and bridle, Gamze picked the carrots, not willing to leave them lying around like that. Besides, there was an easy way to get back to these two thanks to their gross negligence. If they had been sent by Iskanda Farahmand, the fire genasi warlord vying for the control of Calimport against Vizer Shahrokh, Gamze found her choice of personnel rather disappointing.

-Banu... Have you seen these two handling their horses, by any chance? The cat mentioned a bay and a black one.

-Near the other entrance, 3rd and 4th stalls.

Gamze had a rather short night, but the little bit of peace her nocturnal outing bought the group was worth it. Besides, she could nap on her mare if needed; they were on their last leg of the voyage to Mardun and should arrive by the end of the afternoon if they kept their pace. In truth, they all had been various shades of foolish, Kartal was clearly nursing a hangover while the twins were also having naps on their horses. Defne’s falcon was still flying high, circling above them while she was opening the march yet again, now on full alert – they had left the relative security offered by the path to Dashadjen and were in the deeper parts of the desert now. A little trouble could easily turn into bigger ones.

The afternoon sun was baking the sand and stones when trouble indeed started. Nothing the group couldn’t handle, but keeping as much strength as possible for their tour of Mardun was essential. Still, it served as an efficient hangover cure for the twin tieflings and Kartal. Luckily for them, Defne’s alertness and her falcon’s keen eyesight saved the group from a bad surprise when the sand moved, six kruthiks violently bursting out of it, the spikes and chitin on their back and legs shining threateningly in the sun. Defne and Nasir quickly jumped off their horses and drew their weapons. Defne wasted no time and immediately cast a spell on the closest kruthik before jumping forward, one blade in each hand and aiming for the part of its neck that wasn’t covered by chitin. Blood spurted, but the hit had been too low for a clean kill. Nasir followed suit however and, with a swing of his scimitar that shone with a green flame, finished Defne’s work. The green flame immediately jumped and burned the closest kruthik, which let out an ear-piercing shriek that made Banu rear and side step. Gamze tightened her calves and held her back and shoulders, letting the mare know that she was in control of the situation. Holding her reins in one hand while she was trying to calm her mare down, she cast her spell, shaping it as three lightnings that flew straight into the burned kruthik. Two of them fell right at the articulation of one leg, however the kruthik moved as the third one was about to hit and the chitin got hit, leaving just a crack. Munir promptly followed suit however, well-sat in his saddle and aiming his arrows, visibly undisturbed by the movement around and under him – Gamze knew he was an archer, but hadn’t been made aware he was also a mounted one. Two arrows flew in quick succession; one got stuck in the crack made by Gamze’s spell, while the other lodged itself deep at the base of the neck, adding a new injury.

Banu hadn’t been the only spooked horse however, Kartal barely had time to cast a magical armour on himself before getting thrown off his horse and open to one of the kruthiks, who seemingly decided that the four others were too much trouble. As Kartal was getting back on his feet, the kruthik launched itself at him, its front legs ready to strike. The first stab missed, but Kartal lost his balance and got hit by the second, that left a gash in his left arm, blood running and staining the torn fabric of his kaftan. Wincing in pain, he still managed to cast a spell and the sound of a bell resonated in the desert. The kruthik immediately reared and shrieked, while a gloomy burn appeared on its chest.

Defne quickly assessed the situation. She could focus on the bigger group with Nasir, Kartal would need some assistance, Munir was mobile.

-Gamze, stay with Kartal, we’ll switch once we regroup! Munir, Nasir, keep these fuckers grouped and busy for a second!

The ranger’s falcon shrieked in turn and plunged, aiming for the eyes of the creature already injured by Gamze and Munir. Meanwhile, she started running towards the injured wizard and the threatening kruthik. Nasir and Munir quickly reorganised themselves.

-Finish the injured one, I’ll take of the one on the left!

Munir nodded to his brother, and Nasir jumped to block the passage of another kruthik, cutting its way to Kartal, Gamze and Defne.

-You’ll have to try me first!

The kruthik reared and went to stab Nasir, but he managed to parry with his round shield before striking once, twice at its open chest and legs. The stabbing front leg gave out and the creature fell, furiously trying to bite the tiefling in retaliation. At this exact moment, a thunderous sound came from the back and the isolated kruthik attacking Kartal got blown back momentarily while Gamze jumped down from her horse and helped the injured wizard back on his feet. The sound distracted the remaining kruthiks and Munir used that opportunity to aim once more, this time taking the already injured creature down.

-Two dead, three to go for us, brother!

While Defne rushed towards Kartal and Gamze, the kruthik standing between them shook its head and turned around, initially attempting to go back to its pack yet finding the ranger in its path. As it raised its front legs to attack, Defne’s falcon landed on its head and started pecking at its eyes, allowing its owner to strike again by using the opening the bird had created. One slash to open the chest at a visibly rotting point, then Defne plunged her other short blade in the opening, before jumping backward to avoid getting caught under the now dead kurthik’s body. Kartal joined her, pressing above the injury on his left arm in an attempt to reduce the blood flow. Leaving the fire genasi to Defne’s healing spell, Gamze joined the twins to help deal with the remaining creatures, jumping off Banu to keep her out of danger. One injured, two still in good shape. She didn’t have time to cast an armour spell to better protect herself, so she’d have to focus on her mobility and distance. Light on her feet and feeling the wind raise around her, she slid on the sand, firmly leaned on one leg and extended herself in a gracious movement, while an orb of concentrated lightning formed itself in the palm of her open hand. She blew on it, and the orb flew towards one of the uninjured kruthiks, which was trying to catch Nasir in a pincher attack while he was handling the injured one. The air cracked with electricity, then a bright explosion ensued. When the dusty blast caused by the explosion settled, Munir noticed the targeted kruthik down, with half of its legs torn off. Not missing the opportunity presented to him, he shot two more times, once while passing by the kruthik his brother had already injured, then to finish the one severely injured by Gamze.

Nasir, momentarily blinded by the dust, furiously yelled at Gamze while barely dodging one last attack from the injured creature.

-Seriously? A blast when we’re surrounded by san-

A golden bolt flew between Gamze and Nasir, before lodging itself in the head of the kruthik, which fell heavily. Kartal approached with Defne, a light scowl on his face and golden embers dancing around his fingers.

-You’d have been skewered by two of these bastards, stop complaining.

Defne didn’t waste any time and lunged towards the remaining kruthik, however it managed to escape her slashes and turned towards an approaching Munir, visibly annoyed by the mounted archer. His first arrow struck true, however the second shot missed as Munir’s horse suddenly side-stepped to avoid getting stabbed and made him lose his balance for a second. At that moment, three lightning-shaped bolts flew towards the creature, cracking its chitin and injuring a leg. As it fell, it almost bit into Munir’s horse, but Kartal hurled a firebolt that hit right at the base of its neck. Defne immediately followed through with her short blades, beheading the creature.

As the excitement caused by the fight fell, Munir jumped down his horse to salvage some of his arrows. Meanwhile, the others went to look for their own mount. The horses had gathered a bit further, out of danger. With the agitation caused by the kurthiks, no other creature seemed to get the idea of getting to them, and none of them seemed injured. As she petted Banu’s neck before getting back in her saddle, Gamze nodded at Kartal.

-How’s the arm?

-Eh, fine, it wasn’t that deep so Defne could heal it. I’m still displeased with that fall, it was quite a waste of time.

-Well, she barely had time to warn us, overall we did well and –

-And even while injured, you still threw spells left and right, wizard.

Defne tapped on Kartal’s shoulder amicably as she passed by him, returning to her position at the front of the group. With the agitation and the afternoon heat, the rest of the travel felt more sluggish, and while the arrival at Mardun had been estimated in the evening, another stop was judged safer to explore the place in a fresher state. Besides, something started worrying Defne when her falcon perched on her forearm after having circled further ahead, which agitated Nasir.

-I guess that was to be expected... But it seems we won’t be alone in Mardun. Forget letting us sleep, guys. We’ll have to set up a proper guard.

-Is it other people? Maybe, I don’t know, a group sent by Iskanda?

-I am not sure... We’ll have to investigate, at least to keep our camping site safe.

Buttes could be seen, gaining in elevation as the group got closer. There was Mardun, an ancient city carved in the stones, long abandoned for reasons lost to time, although Gamze suspected the Genie Wars of yore to be one of the causes – the incessant battles for control of the peninsula by either Memnon or Calim had been violent enough to permanently change its climate and alter its geography. She’d read up a bit about the place before leaving, to have a better picture of what she was being sent for. Her bet was that the city hadn’t been that abandoned, over the millennia. It was hard and dangerous to access, the perfect place to act in secrecy.

The sun was slowly ending its course when they entered the ruins. The silence was complete, except for the everblowing wind. Saying that the place had been carved was an understatement; sculpted would have been a much appropriate word.

-Imagine all the money that could be made if the path to this place was cleared and made safer...

Kartal’s voice rang across the stones, his marvel tinted with practical greed. This was the main reason why he’d been brought here, he had the academic background to offer guidance, as well as provide further notes about the place once they’d be back. Defne took some advance with her falcon to find a decent spot to spend the night, and quickly found an elevated area in a broken wall. They’d be properly shielded from the wind while still having vision on the area.

That evening, as they were having a light meal, they all studied the plans that had been given. According to Shahrokh’s personal researches, they had to seek a front carved with palms and passing lions. Not an easy task, with how weathered the stones were, but they’d have to manage with what they had. Besides, considering the size of the sculptures, their general shapes could likely still be guessed in the stone. From that point onward, Kartal would become the guide.

As they settled for the night, they established a guard tour for each of them in order to remain as safe as possible. The warm smell of kaeth enveloped the camp as everybody set for the night. When Gamze was awaken to take her guard duty, Munir let her know that nothing of note had happened so far, before crashing in his bedroll. The night was indeed quiet, aside from the breeze and the sound of insects. Gamze served herself a small cup of kaeth and drank slowly, letting the beverage warm and energise her for her turn. As the flames from the small camp fire were making her thoughts stray, a change in the surrounding noise got her attention. When danger was near, noise usually stopped, but it wasn’t the case this time. It took her a good minute to realise that there was more noise. It was very discreet, hidden among the insects and other nocturnal critters. It felt like a call, somewhere in the shadows, further away. She made sure her jambiya was well set at her belt and left her position to inspect the sound. Step after step, she reviewed the chapters she’d read detailing the various monsters that could be encountered in the desert. Only one sort of creature in the area could do that, and Gamze could very well attempt a high risk high reward gamble on the situation. So she kept going, a bit further, until she found what she suspected.

When the sun rose, Gamze offered Kartal to rest a bit while she took over his breakfast duty – he had been the last to guard the camp, after all. A simple meal composed of hard cheese, dry figs, flat bread and freshly brewed kaeth was served, everything being portioned carefully to manage the food. Then, the camp was cleared and the riders started their research of the entrance with the palms and lions.

They had to go deeper amidst the buttes to find what they were seeking. The entrance had been eroded by time, yet it remained impressive, twelve meters tall and carved in the reddish stone of the area. The palms and lions had been partially erased, but their silhouettes could still be read on the façade. All five of them jumped off their horses and readied themselves to enter, the mages casting a protective spell over themselves to compensate for their lack of armour. Nasir opened the way, his round shield up, accompanied by Defne. Munir and Gamze handled the back, and Kartal was kept in the middle. They entered a large room, its ceiling almost lost in the shadow. There was nothing of value in it, however some elaborate decorations made of bones had Defne swear under her breath.

-Shit, hags. Stay on your guard, don’t let them charm you.

They went deeper in what seemed to have been some sort of palace, once. With the lack of sun and wind inside, elaborate tiles and frescoes could be seen, representing pastoral scenes, certain historical events lost to time... A cackle stopped their contemplation of the place, as a tall shadow moved to meet them. As it approached, they realised her silhouette had hidden the fires from the next room the entire time – she had been waiting for them. Defne let out a shaky breath and steadied a hand on one of her short blades. The hag may have noticed the ranger’s perceptive comment and matching attitude, because she didn’t bother to hide herself behind an illusion. As she took a step to meet them, the fires behind her partially illuminated her emaciated physique, with a large but tattered mantle, long and wispy white hair, and hands that were too large and too long, nails as sharp as claws. When she spoke, it was in a saccharine tone that didn’t match the sharp crack of her voice.

-Sister Beren, look! We have visitors! It’s such a rare sight in these parts...

Her voice trailed in a chilling manner. Defne and Nasir immediately took position, hand on their weapons and ready to draw. Gamze felt Munir ready some arrows in his left hand, holding them in front of his bow – a technique typical of mounted archers, meant for quicker shots. A second ominous silhouette appeared, quite similar to the first.

-Well, Sister Afet, how about we give them a warm welcome! Life here is so terribly lonely, let us take a good look at you, will you?

With a snap of her fingers, the hag named Afet lit more fires in the room they were in. More sinister cackles resonated.

-Aren’t they lovely, Sister Beren! Now younglins, let us take a closer look!

The sand under their feet started moving, bringing them closer to the hags. Defne was the first to unsheathe one of her short swords, trying to use the opportunity to land a first attack. The movement of the sand under her feet was enough to mess with her balance and she missed the first hit, barely giving her time to duck a set of sharp claws trying to grab her, and then went for another strike. Nasir was prompt to follow suit, his scimitar out and his shield up to protect him against the reach of the hags. Munir launched a first arrow after having deftly jumped from the moving batch of sand, while Kartal quickly cast an almost blinding scorching ray that made one of the hags yelp from the pain. Gamze quickly pulled him to the side and pointed at the area behind the hags.

-Look, it’s there, we need to get there!

-You two, go! We’ll cover for you!

Munir’s voice resonated amidst the growing chaos, and Gamze didn’t hesitate. Pulling Kartal with one hand, she started rushing, running next to the on-going fight between the hags and their three comrades. While she pushed Kartal through the next chamber so he could be out of the hags' reach and unlock the door, she cast an orb full of lightning that exploded in the general area of the hags, before rushing to Kartal. He made a quick work of the door, detecting and dispelling the spell blocking it. They entered, and he immediately cast an arcane lock to block the access, if only momentarily.  

-The password to get out shall be... Bright fire, crisp wind. Alright, now where are we...

In the darkness, Gamze could distinguish Kartal’s silhouette, but the only light came from the ember shine of his hair, short beard and eyes. Soon after, a flame broke the dark, partially illuminating the rather wide room. With the flame swaying in the palm of his hand, Kartal made a round throughout the room, before finding two large braziers. Some old wood, partially consumed, was already present in them and allowed for more light. Gamze took a turn at inspecting the place, noticing the disturbed dust everywhere that left a cleaner trail leading her to the heavy set of bronze doors at the back of the room.

-It seems our ancient friends have been trying to open that before us...

-Yeah... Wait for the other three to deal with them before calling them “friends”. Let’s see these doors...

Kartal grimaced as he passed by her, before focusing on the millennia-old engravings, occasionally dusting them with a quick swat of his hand. Behind them, the faint sound of infighting could be heard, although the heavy door muffled it. Despite the early chaos, the fire genasi had been able to regain his composure with a swiftness that impressed her – it clearly wasn’t his first time, despite him not being the most apt at fighting. While he was busy, details in the floor attracted Gamze’s attention, swirling patterns partially hidden under the dust and sand. Using the movement of the soft breeze that seemed to perpetually surround her, she carefully cleared the patterns step by step and noticed an occasional shine. The maze-like pattern reminded her of something, but her train of thought was interrupted by Kartal, who took a step back from the bronze doors with his hands on his hips.

-Alright, this is a chant in Primordial. Come check it out.

Gamze approached him and read the ancient text, which was a praise of the wide sky and the warm flame. Suddenly, she gasped.

-Oh I know what the pattern on the floor is! Look how it’s organised. This is some old temple thing to encourage meditation or something like that.

-Hm... I think there’s something like that still visible in the oldest part of Saint Liwan’s Blessings. So we have to follow the maze... Maybe while reciting the text on the door?

-We’ll need to channel our magic a bit, I think. There’s was a shine when I used some of mine to clear the floor, and the text is about Air and Fire.

-Alright, let’s do it like that, it seems we must start in the corners opposite both to each other and the doors, it looks like the paths are slowly joining in front of it.

Both of them took place as suggested by Kartal and proceeded with the agreed method. It was not easy to synchronise both of their reciting of the text while moving at the same pace, but Gamze put her dancing abilities to good use in order to adapt her movements to Kartal’s. The labyrinthine pattern shone fully as they both reached its end, and the magic infused the doors, which opened with a heavy creak.

Kartal turned his head to the locked door behind them with a concerned look, before pinching his lips and take a first step inside the newly opened room, which lit up with magical fires.

-Let’s go, the faster we’re done here, the faster we’ll be able to help the others.

Gamze nodded quietly and followed him. At the center of the room stood a pedestal, fully carved in the rock just like the rest of what seemed to have been a temple. A dagger was floating over it, surrounded by a magical shine – a protective spell that secured and preserved the object, Gamze guessed.

With little hesitation, Kartal went to the pedestal and inspected the old spell, before figuring out how to dispel it. He reached out for the dagger, took it firmly and turned back towards Gamze. After having taken a few steps, he felt something warm running along his throat. Passing his fingers over it, he noticed blood and raised his horrified eyes to Gamze, who had approached him without a noise. He tried to speak, yet only blood got through his lips. As his knees failed him, Gamze accompanied his fall, letting his head rest on her laps while she gently cupped his cheek and offered him an almost maternal smile.

-Don’t worry love, it’ll be over soon. You did really well, you know? Calimport is grateful for your sacrifice.

Kartal’s last look was full of hatred as he tried to mutter a spell but choked on more blood, while Nuria retrieved the ritual dagger from his weakened hand.  

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 OC #bg3 OC nuria #nuria yr ashemmi el kacem #a tale of brimstone and storm #bg3 raphael #hellfire storm #chapter 2 is gonna be fun hehe #although full of politics and contracts lol #nuria is not a nice person #guess her class and subclass! #Banu means Princess btw she's literally A Mare Named Princess #Banu is beauty Banu is grace she will kick you in the face

[sayurifellfrost]

Prompt #11: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Character: Rehma Cenatroca

Age: 25

A deep breath was swiftly drawn and slowly expelled, the woman’s pale purple eyes burying themselves into the half-masked Keeper she had found lounging in her tent - waiting, nestled atop a pile of pillows she had torn from the bed.

“Livin’ mighty cosily, Rehma.” The Keeper uttered with a grin, tapping one of the pillows she rested upon. “Y’Matriarch gotta be fond o’ye’.”

“Luhxe.” Rehma spoke, quietly and somewhat bitterly - clearly not overly happy with the woman’s presence. “Why are y’here?”

“Saw somethin’ mighty interestin’, figured y’wanted t’know!”

Luhxe drove two fists into the pillowpile and shoved herself up on her feet - beginning to approach the Keeper who’s tent she had invaded. Rehma met her approach with a stern look, ears flat on her head and tail swaying behind her slowly.

“I will no’ pay ye’ for information.” She snapped.

“Pay? No, no.” Luhxe’s lips curled downwards - the lower half of her face being the only part of it visible. “‘S unfinished business, Rehma.”

The Keeper’s brow lofted, eyes narrowing into thin slits as Luhxe leaned closer, lowering her tone as she spoke to ensure no-one would overhear them.

“Saw a girl, mighty similar t’my old target, hm? Figured t’was just a coincidence, but Sihfa ‘n I followed her a bit..”

“Y’saw th’same I did, Luhxe.” Rehma frowned.

“Saw plenty o’ y’fire burnin’ th’woods, aye. Ain’ seen confirmation o’ her death.” Luhxe’s head tilted. “Same hair colour, same eye colour once she took her mask off t’inspect th’prey she hunted. T’was hard t’see her face beneath th’black cross tha’ covered it at first, but.. Same scar Covuh gave her over her eye, ‘n her face really ain’ lookin’ all tha’ different.”

Rehma paused, her narrowed eyes widening just a touch as her head turned to more fully stare at Luhxe.

“.. Black cross.” She repeated.

“.. Aye. ‘S a Karahli cross, she’s a part o’ their warband.” Luhxe’s head tilted further, as her raised brow couldn’t be seen. “Y’know I wouldn’ waste y’time, Rehma. ’M bloody certain ‘s her. ‘N if y’need more convincin’.. Her shoulder covered by a burn scar. Same place y’struck her for sure.”

The Keeper grit her teeth, a quiet hiss passing her lips at the information.

“..Let me get this straight.” Rehma growled. “.. Y’tellin’ me Zihre is fuckin’ alive, ‘n hidin’ with the bleedin’ Karahli?”

“Aye, ‘s exactly what ‘m tellin’ ye’.”

Rehma’s hands slowly balled up into fists, fangs gritting as dread she would’ve sworn was anger crept up on her. All this time she thought her secret had been safe, with none to be able to out the truth.. It had all been a lie.

In a matter of seconds, all she had built for herself was once again under the threat of crumbling down around her, should Zihre choose to pursue revenge.

She wasn’t even sure Zihre had the stomach for it, even when faced with the fact Rehma was trying to kill her - she didn’t want to fight her. Family was a thing she held high values in, even if Rehma didn’t.

Mutely, Rehma left Luhxe’s side - slowly beginning to pace around in her tent as her brows furrowed in thought, ears flat on her head as she considered her options despite already having decided she had to silence her, before she could speak out. Luhxe merely watched Rehma as she wandered back and forth, giving her the much needed silence for her thoughts.

Zihre having been taken in by the Karahli was certainly an unforeseen event she’d rather not have had happened, and her having joined their warband especially..? Rehma didn’t know much about their Warmaiden, other than the fact it was a woman she did not necessarily want to mess with.

“.. I need more time t’think.” Rehma muttered. “..In th’meantime, I want ye’ t’make sure it actually is her, I ain’ gonna pick a figh’ with th’Karahli over somethin’ tha’ ain’ confirmed.”

“.. All I told ye’, ‘n it ain’ enough?” Luhxe furrowed her brows.

Rehma came to a halt and turned to Luhxe, scowling.

“I want ye’ t’hear her fuckin’ name. Let her see ye’ just t’see wha’ her reaction is if y’bloody have t’.” She snapped. “Or, if it’s so bleedin’ difficult, brin’ me t’make m’own observation.”

Luhxe’s expression soured, as she was reminded of why she didn’t enjoy dealing with Rehma - even if she paid them well. But she had her own reasons to want to see the girl hunted down - to avenge Covuh, so she’d reluctantly work with her, as long as it saw her to the conclusion she wanted.

“.. As y’wish.”

She offered Rehma a mock-bow and wandered for the tent’s exit, slipping out once she had made sure none would see her - leaving Rehma to stew in her own rising anxiety that she swiftly turned into anger about the entire situation.

Once, she had wondered if she had truly gone about it the way she should’ve - feeling a tinge of unease for the choice she had made.. But now she had her answer, as her mind immediately wanted to ensure it was done properly, this time. But she had to be careful, if it truly was her.. Starting a war with the Karahli certainly would not be wise.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #Zihre Karahli #FFXIV #IC #Writing

[maddyaddy]

The Wake

New Albia has been invaded and temporarily occupied once, by the Tizcan Flame warband. It is this scar on the Greymanes' tapestry of victories that has shaped and created the Wake, the eighth and final fyrd. More than any of their brethren, they were purposefully created to ensure that ignominy never happens again. More than anything, they embody the axiomatic military strategy of the "Unyielding Shield".

Unusually for Astartes, the Wake (lit. "watch") are defensive specialists. Rarely leaving the Mavor sub-sector, they see to the ramparts of its walls. They are extensively trained and exhaustively educated in the finer points of both mobile defense and those attritional tactics that make use of depth. The broader strategies above these tactics use as their lynchpin a network of orbital stations and harbors, chapter garrisons on both New Albia and outlying worlds, and hidden, fortified warehouses of arms and materiel. In the course of this mission, they maintain close cooperation with their fellow Greymanes in the Hounds of Wayland, the Scaich, and the Sons of Vadi.

Put plainly, in the purest terms, they are not a propaganda piece to scare people away from New Albia or Mavor, nor a waste of manpower, and they are no joke.

When roused to fury, the Wake's more mobile assets sally out from their fortifications to counterattack or harry the foe. They also array their more static assets to wear the enemy down. Wave after wave of foes have broken against this hammer and anvil approach, as the dutiful guardians of New Albia march forth without fear, crushing and destroying all sent against them.

#greymanes #40k #warhammer 40000 #space wolf successors #space wolves #warhammer #homebrew lore

[sloolid]

WIP: A mysterious, possibly extraterrestrial, warband for Frostgrave.

2x Spellcasters, at the back.

4x Apothecaries

4x Thieves, without heads currently.

I'm planning on playing them as non-violently as possible - hence the weird lineup.

Lore Below:

The Necromancer's Account.

(A dusty book, bound in hide, in a collapsed basement.)

I believe I have found a new species in the ruins of Felstad - appearing human-like at first, one notices the vast variation in height. Some of them are barely teenaged in stature, while others must be nearly six cubits tall.

They seem to have three phenotypes, which I have named:

The Leaders: A pair of two, consisting of a Senior and a Junior. They lead the other phenotypes, and are notably taller. I've seen them make use of abilities analogous to common magic spells.

The Healers: So called because they converge upon wounded allies and cause a process that seems to heal them. I've yet to make sense of this process. This phenotype is the most humanoid, never showing abnormalities in height.

The Crawlers: A dimunitive phenotype, they have many abnormalities - the nature of which are detailed below. Their purpose seems to be as scouts? I rarely see them from my vantages, as they're both fast and small, thus preventing a good understanding of their role in the group.

Observations through a 'glass reveal further abnormalities: Limbs, those recognizably human, oft bend the wrong ways, or possess too many joints. And those are just the limbs similar to our own! A number, including every one of the smaller phenotype, posess grasping tentacles in place of hands. This adaptation gifts them great dexterity, that's wasted on them - I'll elaborate shortly.

These creatures have many unnatural physical elements, but my monitoring of them reveals they lack the noble desire to dispach foes. They display an aversion to violence that even the Grey Elves would be shocked at, risking both injury and dishonour to avoid harming other sentients.

They will fight if cornered, and do so with a kind of perfunctory precision and brutality not unlike a Dwarf's construct. Once the specimen believes itself able to escape from the foe, it does so posthaste - even if the opponent is vulnerable in extremis or damaged to the brink of their mortality.

I intend to capture one for experimentation, which I will document here.

(The book is blank after this point.)

#sculpting #scale models #handmade #miniatures #tabletopminiatures #tabletop games #fantasy #frostgrave #stargrave #Lore #Warhammer #Aliens #40k #necromancer #Felstad #Wizard #Warband #Tabletop gaming #Tabletop

[djpain619]

WIP WEDNESDAY

DA Kontra Kommandos ready their Counter Revolution Attack

Da Kontraboys iz gettin ready for theyz Long-Waaagh against;

"Da Sandy-Neatstahz" (Centurion Rangers, so called "Sandy" because their trenchcoats are often covered in sand and dust from being in the feild, and "Neatstahz" because when they lead the Rual Kanak Militias they enforce sophisticated order and dicipline universally, as opposed to the natual variance in Milita organization from warband to warband) [out of universe, I needed a name that sounded like "Sandinistas" to fight my Contras]

Kommando Boss Nob, Kommando Boy, Dakka Boy

Comms Boy, Ork Snipa, Breecha Boy

Burnna Boy, Knife Boy, Kommando Boy, Rokkit Boy, distraction grot

Distraction Grot close up

Bomb Sqiug

Here we have Kommando Boss Nob Kaptain Klaw

They're all far from done, but they're coming along nicely.

Anyways here's a loredump of their backstory:

<------------------------------------------------------>

Kernel KillaGore & Mad Makz were stormboys as Youffs. The Stormboy Nob they followed had started his service under a Stormboy Nob that was a Veteran of Warboss Zagstruk's own "Vulcha Squad". Thus he passed down several tricks and tactics used by the Vulcha's, including Arial insertion via Fightabomma. Both eventualy graduated from stormboys and joined up with the Kommandos. KillaGore, as a proper BloodAxe, stayed in the Kommandos but Makz, as an Evil Sunz with the Kult of speed in his heart, left to join the Spanners. After graduating his apprenticeship as a Proper Mek, he finally built his own warbuggy and joined the SpeedFreaks. Makz and his SpeedFreaks kult was later Recruited by KillaGore to join Admiral MegaKuttah's Freebooters.

After Admiral MegaKuttah's Freebooters crashland on Ørnverden the Admiral drafts the local Savage Orks and leads a Waaagh against the Rual Kanaks. After massacring a few Kanak Villages, KillaGore's Kontra Kommandos notice the Centurion Rangers rallying the Rual Kanaks into a Militia force large enough to threaten the Waaagh. KillaGore warns Admiral MegaKuttah but is ignored. Instead the Admiral plans to frontal Assault the Kanaks defenses. KillaGore then warns Makz and convinces him to abandon the Doomed Waaagh and find another fight along with His Kontraboyz. They sneak away, stealing a Fightabomma, and fly off to the Jungle the night before the big Assault.

With the Centurion Rangers to Rally them and lead their defenses, and the PDF garrison of the nearest hive city lending Air Support, the Rural Kanak Militia Slaughter the attacking offworld Orks. KillaGore's Kontraboys and Makz are the sole survivors.

After Crashing the Fightabomma in the Jungle, KillaGore and Makz cannibalise the wreckage to build a suitable Hideout, using it as their base of operations. Makz mainly stays in the secret base with his MadLads and support KillaGore's Kontraboys in their LONG-Waaagh to eventualy get Back to Ghazghkull's BIG Waaagh. At the base, Makz builds a Mekshop and starts producing Sluggas and Shootas for KillaGore and the Kontraboys to sell to the local Savage Ork Tribes. KillaGore and the Kontraboys spy on the Savage Ork Tribes in the area and KillaGore finds Savage Ork Warchiefs that are foolhardy and easy to manipulate. He then offers them his Kommandos services to scout for them and train their troops into a more effective fighting force. Selling them Sluggas and teaching them how thay work; Effectively upgrading them from simple Savage Orks to full on Beastsnagga Boyz.

Kernel KillaGore dies when one of these Operations goes FUBAR. After months of grooming a Savage Ork Tribe, training them up to be a legitimate threat, their fool of a Warchief gets them all killed by leading them into a Rural Kanak Militia's Trap. Wasting all the time, energy, and resources the Kommandos had invested in them. Simultaneously, while the Savage Orks were being massacred, a Combat Patrol of Aquillacan Carabineers Rough Riders attempted to run down the Kontra Kommandos, forcing them into a fighting retreat to an extraction point where the Kontra Kondors could bring in a ChinOrk Warchoppa for Evac. Cut off from his Kommandos by the Rough Riders, Kernel KillaGore is ambushed by a Centurion Rangers Killteam, he manages to slay all but one of his attackers but is finally dealt a death blow by the final Ranger after wounding them severely.

With the death of Kernel KillaGore, Command falls to his Top Kommando Nob; Kaptain Klaw. The Kontraboys take severe losses in this incident. To replace these losses the Kontraboys begin to recruit new Boyz from the Savage Ork Tribes. Kaptin Klaw initiates a new recruitment system where after training and fighting under Drill Sargent SkragBadd as Stormboys, Recruits can then join either Da Kontraboys, Da Kontra Kondors, or Makz's MadLads.

<------------------------------------------------------>

#warhammer 40k #homebrew #warhammer #40k #wip wednesday #art wip #miniature painting #40k Orks #orks #ork Kommando #ork Kommandos #kill team #Kontra Kommandos #Centurion Rangers #scale model

[mistfallengw2]

10, 16, 20, and 24 for burst warband?

@mystery-salad

Charr warband ask game

10. How many members are in the warband?

The original members of the warband were 5: Verge Flareburst (Legionnaire and later Centurion), Daunte Burstspell (Verge's mate and second-in-command), Dinky Foolburst, Euryale Sunburst, Maverick Skullburst. They used to have a sixth member, Atlas Burststone, but they died during their first months of active duty.

After Verge became Centurion, a few gladia joined over the years, but not all were okay with their methods and most left.

[Yes, this is where I stashed all the "canon" warband members other than Reeva, Clawspur and Howl lol]

-

16. Do all members follow orders exactly or are they a bunch of loose cannons?

Well, the Wing warband was basically their closest group of friends, with Ardea becoming Verge's mentor and go-to advisor soon after they met, so... it's up to interpretation :^) Having seen the superior's pushback against Wing for their actions regardless of results, Verge and Ardea were smart and more careful than she had been on her own, and for a while they played the part where he'd appear to be a good influence on her by toning down her worst ideas (read: she'd openly suggest something crazy and he'd pretend to find a compromise, which was the intended plan all along). As planned, he was soon rewarded for "putting a leash on the loose cannon and correcting her aim", rising to the rank of Centurion and having the Wing warband assigned to him. Jokes on the Legions, she was still the one with the best ideas, and that position was high enough to enable her to have more indirect control over orders.

-

20. Is there drama between members or are they tight-knit?

The only instances of serious drama happened way back when they were still cubs. Maverick and Atlas were among the bullies that gave a hard time to Verge and Daunte for their fire magic, but at some point they became friends and it was all water under the bridge by the time they left the fahrar. Losing Atlas due to an inconsiderate mistake of their superiors was a hard blow to all of them, and not only they became even more tight-knit as a result, but it also served as a catalyst for bonding so closely with the Wing warband and fully buying into their "no soldier left behind" ideas.

-

24. What's the warband's opinion on humans and the treaty?

They were mostly neutral towards humans, given they often spent their time off outside of Ascalon and occasionally took trips in Lion's Arch, and overall agreed that the siege of Ebonhawke was just a waste of resources that Iron could better use against Flame.

As for the treaty itself, most of them didn't live to see it become a thing, as all but Daunte died within the second year that followed the formation of the Brand, but they would have been in favor. When Daunte became a gladium, he left the Legions and later joined the Vigil, and he thought most of his human fellow soldiers were as all right as any charr.

#oc asks #Daunte Burstspell #Burst warband #(background characters that are canonically dead still get the full backstory treatment around these parts uwu)

[xkeyon]

Emperor's Children for 10th

Most likely the EC will be in 10th Edition, thus finishing the MONOGOD Chaos Space Marine factions. As for what could be brought out I see it being in 3 phases. Phase 1: The Warbands. This will be for EC fans while waiting for the army we will see something like that with the World Eaters did during the CSM 9th codex release where you used that & a White Dwarf magazine, though we replace Kharn with Lucius, and Khorne Berzerkers with Noise Marines. With the different Combat Patrol rulers I see the magazine issue giving a combat patrol for them. 1X Lucius the Eternal (95 pts) 3X Noise Marines 5 man squads (85 pts) 1X Helbrute (140 pts) Enhancement, Intoxicating Elixir. Both the Noise Marines & Lucius getting new models available before the true launch and there would be a story reason.

Eidolon is about ready to bring the 3rd Legion back into the Galaxy truly, but knows he can't use them all as they would be to useless to fight as a united Legion some being now shells of themselves they would be a waste of skill, while others are to strong and will try to usurp leadership in the new formation of the Legion. So have these Lords & Champions go out and take planets to weaken others in a specific part of the galaxy where a plan Eidolon needs to do something (I do have an idea it will be shared in another post). If they take these worlds it will be theirs & the 3rd will never try to force any orders of them, & when the 3rd comes they will be allowed to use some new weapons and soldiers that will come with the new Legion.

Phase 2: The Legion. Eidolon has brought the Emperor's Children he knows that will be able to help achieve a plan. The units that come with this phase would be Eidolon who could also be made as a generic EC Lord.

A more non-battle line unit would be the return of the Palatine Blades... kind of. Some of these new ones will have been the ancient ones from 30K while others will have proven themselves. But now they have fused with with their blades feeling whatever it touches. This is also not a Daemon Possession but more like that of the mutilators. This warp fusion also has mutated them where they now wear Death Masks of Fulgrim, a Chaos version of the Sanguinary Guard.

I don't think they will get unique Terminators and Helbrutes, but instead their units will get a unique weapon option for each of them, this is how Sonic Dreadnoughts be a thing.

I also think they will either get Helbrutes or Terminators in phase 2 (I would lean to the former) while the other will be out phase 3. Phase 3: The Primarch. Fulgrim is here with the rest of the army.

Along with their Primarch we will see the other unique Legion weapon unit, a Psyker for them, & a unit that takes after their Primarch's snake look mixing tech & warp mutation resembling the Laer.

Sorry this feels incomplete but there are 2 other parts that will bring it more all together.

#warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #emperor's children #fulgrim #lucius the eternal #lord commander eidolon #noise marines #lie setiawan #Alex Cristi #Álvaro Jiménez #David Haire #Piya Wannachaiwong #Andrew Davenport #for any artist not mentioned sorry I couldn't find if anyone knows please share #I can't find it but their vehicles are supposed to be able to have noise weapon options if true then that #was actually stumped on a cultist for them

[ainlifun]

In all actuality, the battle was a distraction. The Claws of Malal were considerable force, dangerous enough to take seriously by this strange huddle of daemons residing in the desert, but victory wasn’t the point. All they needed was the Sage. All he needed was the sage.

M’tau flew above the carnage, his massive Manticore sailing overhead as the Mal-ungors slammed into the blades of the Bloodletters. Meatshields. Sacrifices. Bodies to tie them up and slow them down. If it were up to the Lion-gor, he would’ve thrown every single one of them in the meat grinder to accomplish his task. 

The Chaos Giant, bound to him through fell magics, swung it’s great metal club and swept aside much of Khazaan’s front line, allowing enemies to spill into the land. It swung again and hit the Bloodthirster himself, missing the unmanned Manticore by a hair. It was a solid connection, one that sent the daemon crashing into the desert sands. The riderless manticore wasted no time and flung itself upon the winded Bloodthirster, joined by several other creatures of Chaos. Chaos Spawn. Furries. Hounds.

M’Tau grinned upon witnessing it, continuing his advance. The steady plod of the Chaos Giant thundered in his ears behind him. With so many daemons about, it was easy to detect the scent of mortal blood and easier still to smell the particular corruption heavy on each Sage of Khorne. Below him, Chaos Spawn shuddered along. Minotaurs ran with their axes, snorting and tossing their horned heads.

They sighted the massive Skull of the Wyrm, where the scent was strongest. There. He had been secreted away there. M’Tau’s lips peeled back in a snarl and he turned the Minotaur and his small warband in the direction of the fossil, the scent of Slaaneshi heavy about the place. His manticore glided along...cautious but determined.

@alphabitchnkari

#alphabitchnkari #hell yeah lets do this shit #warhammer fantasy #Champion: M'Tau Whitemane (Claws of Malal);