by William King
‘It took me years to perfect the Spell of Transmutation, years,’ Kruger hissed. ‘You have no idea how many experiments I did. Hundreds! I laboured like a man possessed but at last I have the secret. Soon you will know it too.’ The sorcerer tittered. ‘Alas, it will do you no good, for you will not be clever enough to speak. Still, you’ll provide fine company for Oleg.’
The glowing tip of the man’s staff came ever closer to Felix’s face. He could see strange lights in its depth. Its surface seemed to shimmer and swirl like oil dropped on water. He could sense the terrible mutating power emerging from it. It radiated out of the warpstone like heat from a glowing coal.
‘I don’t suppose begging for mercy would help?’ Felix asked breezily. He was proud that he managed to keep his voice even.
Kruger shook his head. ‘It’s too late for that. Soon you will be even more of a witless dullard than you are now.’
‘In that case, I have to tell you something.’
Gotrek’s muscles bulged as he made one last superhuman effort, throwing himself forward like a swimmer diving headlong off a cliff.
‘What’s that, Jaeger?’ Kruger leaned close to Felix’s mouth.
‘I never liked you either, you madman!’
Kruger looked like he was going to strike Felix with the staff, but instead he just smiled, revealing his feral teeth.
‘Soon, Jaeger, you will learn the true meaning of madness. Every time you look in the mirror.’
Kruger began to chant in a strange, liquid-sounding tongue. It was not elvish but something even older and considerably more sinister sounding. Felix had heard it before, at other times when he and Gotrek had interfered with rites being performed by the followers of Chaos. Well, it looked as though this time the forces of Darkness were going to have the last laugh. He and the Trollslayer would soon be joining their ranks, however unwillingly.
With every word Kruger chanted, the warpstone glowed ever brighter. Its greenish glow drove back the gloom of the chamber and washed everything in its eerie light. Ectoplasmic tendrils emerged from the warpstone. At first they resembled glowing mist, then congealed into something more solid. There was about them the suggestion of something loathsome and diseased. As Kruger brandished his staff, its ectoplasmic emissions trailed behind it like the tail of a comet. He waved it around with grand sweeping gestures, as if with every wave the evil device gathered power.
His chanting now resembled insane shrieking. Sweat beaded the Chaos sorcerer’s forehead and dripped down his glasses. Oleg, the mutated monster, howled in unison with his master’s chanting, his bass rumbling providing an eerie counterpoint to the spell.
Felix felt his hair begin to stand on end, when the chanting stopped and an eerie silence blanketed the dungeon.
For a moment, everything was still. Felix could hardly see, so dazzled was he by the light of the Chaos staff. He could hear his own heartbeat and Kruger’s frantic breathing as he gasped for breath after completing his invocation. There was a strange metallic creaking, and a grinding of metal on stone. He opened his eyes to see one of Gotrek’s chains whip free from the wall, then the Trollslayer tumbled forward with a curse, ending up dangling above the flagstones.
Kruger turned at the sound. The monster opened his mouth and let out an enormous bellow.
Felix groaned. He had hoped the Slayer would be able to make a run for his axe. With his weapon in his hand, Felix would have backed the Trollslayer against any monster. However, Gotrek still hung from one of the chains. All he could do was dangle there, while the monster ripped him limb from limb.
Kruger seemed to realise this at the same time as Felix. ‘Get him!’ he yelled to his monster.
Oleg surged forward and Gotrek lashed out with his chain. The heavy metal links whipped towards the huge mutant’s eyes. Oleg howled with pain as the chain hit his face, then reeled backwards, crashing into Kruger. There was a snapping sound as Gotrek used his moment’s grace to break his other chain free from the wall. Kruger’s face went white. He lurched to his feet and scuttled for the stairs. The last Felix saw of him was his departing backside.
‘Now there will be a reckoning!’ Gotrek pronounced, his flinty voice guttural with rage.
The monster surged forward to meet the Trollslayer, reaching out with one ham-sized hand. Gotrek brought the chain flashing forward and down, hammering the metal into the creature’s hand. Once more it backed off. Gotrek’s one good eye squinted sideways as though measuring the distance between himself and his axe. Felix could almost read his mind. The distance was too far. If he turned his back and ran for his weapon, the monster’s longer stride would enable it to overhaul him.
Perhaps he could back towards it. As always, Felix misread the strength of the dwarf’s lust for combat. Instead of backing off, he ran forward, swinging his chain in an eye-blurring arc. It smashed into the monster’s chest, then a moment later Gotrek caught Oleg across the face with the second chain.
This time Oleg expected the pain. Instead of retreating, he advanced on towards the Trollslayer, scooping him up in a bear hug. Felix winced as he watched the giant mutant’s arms constrict. Oleg’s flexed biceps looked the size of ale-barrels. Felix feared that the Trollslayer’s ribs would snap like rotten twigs.
Gotrek brought his head forward, butting Oleg in the face. There was a sickening crunch as Oleg’s nose broke. Red blood spurted over Gotrek. Oleg howled with pain and cast the dwarf across the room with one thrust of his huge arms. Gotrek smacked into the wall and fell to the ground with a clattering of chains. After a few seconds, the Trollslayer staggered unsteadily to his feet.
‘Get your axe!’ Felix shouted.
The dazed dwarf was in no condition to take his advice. Besides, Gotrek was out for blood. He staggered towards Oleg. The giant stood there, howling and clutching his nose. Then, hearing the dwarf’s reeling footsteps, he looked up and gave a mighty bellow of rage and pain. He rushed forward, hunkered down, arms outstretched, once more intending to catch the Trollslayer in his death grip. Gotrek stood on swaying legs as the monster thundered towards him, irresistible as a runaway wagon. Felix did not want to look – the mutant was big enough to crush the Slayer beneath his elephantine feet. Horror compelled him to watch.
Oleg reached for Gotrek, his enormous arms closing, but at the last second the Slayer ducked and dived between his legs, turned and lashed out with the chain. It wound around the monster’s ankle. Gotrek heaved. Oleg tripped and sprawled, and the chain unwound like a serpent.
Gotrek looped a length of chain around the mutant’s throat. Oleg pushed himself to his feet, pulling Gotrek with him. The Trollslayer’s weight tightened the grip of the chain around his neck. Using it to hold himself in place, Gotrek pulled himself up to behind Oleg’s neck and continued to tighten the chain. The flesh turned white around the mutant’s windpipe as the metal links bit into flesh. Felix could see that Gotrek intended to strangle the monster.
Slowly the thought percolated into the mutant’s dim mind, and he reached up with both hands to try and loosen the grip of the metal noose that was killing him. He grasped at the chain and tried to work his fingers into the links but they were too big and the chain was gripped too tight. Then he tried to reach behind his head to grasp Gotrek. The Trollslayer ducked his head and pulled himself in tight. He pulled the chain backwards and forward like a saw now. Felix could see droplets of blood emerging where the links had bit.
Now Oleg’s hand fastened in Gotrek’s crest of hair. It held fast for a moment as Oleg tugged, then his fingers slipped loose on the bear fat ointment that held the crest together. Felix could see fear and frustration begin to appear in the monster’s eyes. He could tell that the mutant was weakening. Now Oleg panicked, throwing himself backward at the wall, slamming Gotrek into the stone with sickening force. Nothing could loosen the Slayer’s grip. Felix doubted that death itself would make the dwarf loose his hold now. He c
ould see that a fixed glazed look had entered Gotrek’s eyes, and his mouth was half-open in a terrifying snarl.
Slowly Oleg weakened as his strength drained from him. He tumbled forward onto his hands and knees. A ghastly rattle emerged from his throat and he sank to the ground and was still. Gotrek tightened the noose one last time to make sure of his prey and then stood up, gasping and panting.
‘Easy,’ he muttered. ‘Hardly worth the killing.’
‘Get me down from here,’ Felix complained.
Gotrek fetched his weapon. In four strokes of the axe, Felix was free. He raced over and retrieved his sword. From up above, he heard the sound of windlasses turning, great metal doors being raised, and the howling of a bloodthirsty horde. Felix and Gotrek had just time to brace themselves before the door to the laboratory was thrown open and a tide of frenzied mutants swept down the stairs. Felix thought he recognised some of the creatures from the earlier battle. This was the place where the mutants came from.
One dived from the landing, its reptilian eyes glazed with bloodlust. Felix used a stop-thrust to take it through the chest, and then let his arm slump forward under the weight so that its corpse slid free from his blade. The tide of mutants flowed on, inexorably, pressed forward by their own bloodlust and the weight of those behind them. Felix found himself at the centre of a howling maelstrom of violence, where he and the Trollslayer fought back to back against the chaos-spawn.
Gotrek frothed at the mouth and lashed out in a great figure-of-eight with his blood-stained axe. Nothing could stand in his way. With the chains still hanging from his wrists, he carved a path of red ruin through the howling mob. Felix waded along in his wake, dispatching the fallen with single thrusts, stabbing the few mutants who got past the flailing axe.
On the landing above, Felix could see Kruger. The sorcerer had caught up his staff once more. A greenish glow played around his face, and illuminated the whole scene with an infernal light. Kruger chanted a spell and suddenly viridian lightning lashed out. It arced downwards and narrowly missed Felix.
The mutant standing in front of Felix was not so lucky. Its fur singed and eyeballs popped. For a moment it danced on stilts of pure sorcerous power and then fell to earth, a twisted, blackened corpse. Felix dived to one side, not wanting to be the target of another such bolt. Gotrek surged forwards, cleaving a mutant in two as he hacked his way to the foot of the stairs.
The lightning lashed out, aiming for Gotrek this time. He was not so lucky as Felix had been. The green bolt hit him head-on. Felix expected to see the Trollslayer meet his long-threatened doom at last. Gotrek’s hair stood even more on end than usual. The runes on his axe blade glowed crimson. He howled what might have been a final curse at his gods, then something strange happened. The green glow passed right through his body and along the length of the iron chain still attached to his wrist. It hit the ground in a shower of green sparks and dissipated harmlessly.
Felix almost laughed out loud. He had heard of such a thing before in his natural philosophy classes. It was called earthing: the same thing that let a metal lightning rod conduct the force of a thunderbolt harmlessly into the ground had saved Gotrek. He gave himself a moment to consider this, then flipped his hidden dagger from its sheath and cast it at Kruger.
It was a good throw. It aimed straight and true and buried itself in the foul sorcerer’s chest. It hung there for a moment, quivering, and Kruger stopped his chanting to peer down at it. Kruger dropped his staff and clutched the wound. Greenish blood oozed from the gash and stained the wizard’s fingers. He glared down at Felix in hatred – then turned and fled.
Felix gave his attention back to the melee but it was all over. The small mutants had again proved no match for the Slayer’s axe. Gotrek stood triumphant, his muscular form covered in blood and ichor. A faint glow faded from his axe. Bear fat sizzled and spluttered on his hair.
Felix raced past him up the stairs and out into the corridor. A trail of greenish blood led off down the passage. It wound past a mass of open, empty cages. Felix guessed that it was from these that the mutants had come. They had been the products of Kruger’s foul experiments.
‘Let’s free the children and get out of here.’ Felix said.
‘I want that sorcerer’s skull for my drinking cup!’ Gotrek spat.
Felix winced. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘It’s just an expression, manling.’
From the look on Gotrek’s face, Felix wasn’t so sure about that.
They advanced down the corridor towards their goal. The thought of saving the children gave Felix some comfort. At least he and the Slayer would be able to do some good here, and return the young ones to their parents. For once, they would actually manage to act like real heroes. Felix could already picture the tear-stained faces of the relieved villagers as they were reunited with their offspring.
The rattling of the chain on Gotrek’s wrist began to get on Felix’s nerves. They turned the corner and came to a door. A single sweep of Gotrek’s axe reduced it to so much kindling. They entered a chamber which had obviously once been Kruger’s study.
The massive silver moon shone in through its single huge window. The Chaos-corrupted sorcerer lay slumped over his desk, his greenish blood staining the open pages of a massive leather-bound grimoire. His hands still moved feebly as if he were trying to cast a spell that might save him.
Felix grabbed his hair from behind and pulled Kruger upright. He looked down into eyes from which the greenish glow was fading. Felix felt a surge of triumph. ‘Where are the hostages?’
‘What hostages?’
‘The villagers’ children!’ Felix spat.
‘You mean my experimental subjects?’
Cold horror filled Felix. He could see where this was leading. His lips almost refused to frame his next question. ‘You experimented on children?’
Kruger gave Felix a twisted smile. ‘Yes, they’re easier to transmute than adults and they soon grow to full size. They were going to be my conquering army – but you killed them all.’
‘We killed… them all.’ Felix stood stunned. His visions of being feted by joyful villagers evaporated. He looked down at the blood that stained his hands and his tunic.
Suddenly blind rage, hot as the fires of hell, overwhelmed Felix. This maniac had transformed the village children into mutants, and he, Felix Jaeger, had taken a hand in slaughtering them. In a way that made him as guilty as Kruger. He considered this for a moment, then dragged Kruger over to the window. It looked down onto the sleeping village, a drop of several hundred feet down a sheer cliff face.
He gave Kruger a moment to consider what was about to happen and then gave him a good hard shove. The glass shattered as the sorcerer tumbled out into the chill night air. His arms flailed. His shriek echoed out through the darkness and took a long time to fade.
The Trollslayer looked up at Felix. There was a malevolent glitter in his one good eye. ‘That was well done, manling. Now we’ll have a few words with the innkeeper. I have a score to settle with him.’
‘First, let’s torch the castle,’ Felix said grimly. He stalked off to turn the accursed place into a giant funeral pyre.
ULRIC’S CHILDREN
‘In spite of all our efforts, yet somehow unsurprisingly, we failed to reach Nuln before winter set in. Worse yet, lacking a compass, or any other means of navigating in the deep forest, we were soon lost once more. I can think of few circumstances more frightening or hazardous to the traveller than to be lost in the woods in the winter snows. Unfortunately, by some quirk of the dark destiny that dogged our steps, it seemed we were just about to encounter one of those “few circumstances”…’
— From My Travels with Gotrek, Vol. II,
by Herr Felix Jaeger (Altdorf Press, 2505)
The howling of the wolves echoed through the forest like the wailing of damned souls in torment. Felix Jaeger p
ulled his threadbare red Sudenland wool cloak tight and trudged on through the snow.
Over the past two days he had seen their pursuers twice, catching glimpses of them in the shadows beneath the endless pines. They were long, lean shapes, tongues lolling, eyes blazing with ravenous hunger. Twice the wolves had come almost within striking distance and twice they had withdrawn, as if summoned, by the howling of some distant leader, a creature so frightful that it had to be obeyed.
When he thought of that long wailing call, Felix shuddered. There had been a note of horror and intelligence in its cry that brought to mind the old tales of the darkened woods with which his nurse had frightened him as a child.
He tried to dismiss his evil thoughts.
He told himself he had merely heard the howling of the pack leader, a creature larger and more fearsome than the others. And, by Sigmar, the howling of wolves was a dismal enough sound without letting his mind populate the forest with monsters.
The snow crunched below his feet. Chilly wetness seeped through his cracked leather boots and into the thick woollen socks he wore beneath them. This was another bad sign. He had heard of woodsmen whose feet had been frozen solid within their boots who had to have their toes pared off with knives before gangrene set in.
He was not really surprised at finding himself lost deep in the heart of the Reikwald just as winter was setting in.
Not for the first time, Felix cursed the day he ever encountered the dwarf, Gotrek Gurnisson, and sworn to follow him and record his doom in an epic poem.
They had been following the tracks of a large monster that Gotrek swore was a troll when the snow had started to fall. They had lost the trail in the whiteout and were now completely lost.
Felix fought down a surge of panic. It was all too possible that they would trudge around in circles until they died of exhaustion or starvation. It had happened to other travellers lost in the woods in winter.