by Warhammer
‘The strange thing is that I believe I have seen the wizard before,’ said Felix Jaeger.
‘Yes?’
‘At Praag, during the siege. He was one of those who summoned daemons, but was also doing other worse things.’
‘Worse things?’
‘Max Schreiber claimed the Chaos wizards were drawing the powers of dark magic down from the North.’
‘Max Schreiber? Who is he?’
‘A wizard of our acquaintance.’
‘He knows what he is talking about. If daemons were summoned at Praag, something would have to increase the level of ambient magical energy for them to be able to manifest.’
‘Max said something similar. He knows more about such things than I.’
‘You already know as much as many wizards, Felix Jaeger.’
‘And much good it has done me.’
Teclis considered this. These men had been at Praag, and so had the wizard they pursued. He considered Praag and its ancient hidden secret, and the way the forces of Chaos attacked the place so constantly and the rulers of Kislev constantly rebuilt it again. Oblivious to his dark thoughts, the man continued to speak, recounting their adventures within the great extra-dimensional labyrinth. Teclis nodded and encouraged him as they neared what he sensed was the exit.
He paused before the stone archway and studied the runes, then uttered the spell of opening. They emerged into what appeared to be another stone corridor running upwards and moved onwards in silence towards the light. Up ahead was another sealed doorway. He opened it with a spell. A moment later he was hit in the face with a gust of cold wet air and a flurry of driving rain. He stepped through into a puddle and looked around, pursing his lips in distaste.
The wind drove a lock of his hair into his eyes, and he pushed it back into place. In the distance he could smell marsh. The skies overhead were leaden, and full of clouds. All around were dark gloomy trees. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled and the brief intense flash of lightning flickered across the sky. There was something odd about the way the winds of magic blew here. Their energies flowed turbulently through the sky. He would need to be careful with his spell casting. Still, it helped him evaluate where they were.
‘As I suspected,’ he said. ‘We are in Albion.’
Felix groaned at the elf’s words. ‘That’s not possible,’ he said.
‘You have just come through the Paths of the Old Ones, fought with daemons and witnessed the creation of a bubble reality, and you are telling me that this is impossible?’ said Teclis sardonically.
‘But Albion is a thousand leagues to the north of the Old World, a place of mists and giants and fog…’ Felix looked around him. The place was certainly cold and wet enough to be Albion.
‘Albion is perhaps a hundred leagues at most north of your land, Felix Jaeger,’ said Teclis. ‘Elf ships pass its coast all the time.’
‘Elf ships!’ The words burst explosively from Gotrek’s mouth. They had all the ring of an obscenity. Given how the Slayer felt about elves and ships, Felix supposed that was understandable. He was still surprised that the Slayer had not buried his axe in the wizard’s skull.
‘But Albion…’ he said. Suddenly he realised how far he was from home. Even if what the elf said was correct, they had been in Sylvania – scores, if not hundreds of leagues from the coast. In what seemed like a matter of a day at most, they had crossed a huge chunk of the continent and passed over the sea. This was magic to stun the mind. He looked around again, searching the forests for monsters. Nothing seemed inclined to emerge, but that might change at any moment.
Felix shook his head, and pulled up the hood of his cloak against the rain. Guiltily he realised that he had no idea what had happened to Snorri or Max, or if they were even still alive. Now there would be no way of finding out for months, if they could even find a way back home. Felix was not at all keen on the idea of re-entering the Paths of the Old Ones. Once had been quite enough for this lifetime.
‘How are we going to get home?’ he asked. The portal was already closed. Briefly, very briefly, he considered asking the elf to open the way and stepping back through it, then dismissed the thought out of hand. He would rather swim home than return the way they had come.
‘We have other things to do first,’ said the elf.
‘We?’ said Felix. He felt indebted to the elf but he was not sure he liked the assumption that he would automatically do his bidding. He liked even less the thought of the wizard implying such a thing to Gotrek. Dwarfs were a proud race, and touchy as impoverished noblemen with a string of debts. To his surprise, the Slayer said nothing. He merely shrugged and said; ‘What would you have us do? I am in a hurry to pay off my debt.’
‘It will take some time to explain,’ said the elf. ‘And first we should get away from this place. Who knows what might stumble through those portals.’
‘I do not care,’ said Gotrek.
‘Alas, I do. It is difficult to explain such things as the Paths of the Old Ones while you are trying to beat off the onslaught of daemons. I do not think it likely they will find a way through, but I am loath to take the chance.’
‘I see your point,’ said Felix, who was, if anything, even less keen than the elf to confront any monsters that might materialise. ‘Let’s see if we can find some place to shelter. You can explain things to us as we walk.’
They strode downhill away from the stone ring. The rain fell harder. The lightning flashed closer. The thunder rumbled louder.
To his surprise, Teclis found that his two companions grasped his explanation of events on Ulthuan quickly. Whatever else they might be, Felix Jaeger and Gotrek Gurnisson were not stupid. They listened and they absorbed what he said.
‘You are telling me that if we do nothing Ulthuan will fall beneath the waves,’ said the dwarf. ‘I don’t see the problem.’
‘I might expect a dwarf to say something like that,’ said Teclis, unexpectedly touchy. The dwarf’s surliness was getting on his nerves, and he was not used to having to be cautious around anyone.
‘All of elvenkind would be destroyed,’ said Felix Jaeger.
‘Not all, but most,’ said Teclis.
‘I still don’t see the problem.’
‘Then perhaps I can explain,’ said Teclis trying to keep the sneer from his voice, and not entirely succeeding. ‘What do you know of the Old Ones?’
‘They are a legend,’ said Gotrek Gurnisson. ‘A race of gods older than the gods. Some claim they created this world. Others that they never existed at all.’
‘They existed.’
‘If you say so, elf.’
‘I have consulted the Book of Isha within the Library of the Phoenix Kings. It was written in the time before Aenarion. A record of the golden age when elves and dwarfs were at peace, and the Old Ones still watched over the world. I have read the Book of Valaya…’
‘You have what?’ sputtered the dwarf.
‘I have read the Book of Valaya.’
‘An elf has read one of the sacred books…’
‘There is a copy of the book in the Library at Hoeth.’
‘The world has changed. Now only the Priestesses of Valaya consult those iron-bound tomes.’ Another thought seemed to occur to the Slayer.
‘You have read a book written in the High Tongue of the dwarfs?’
‘Elves and dwarfs were not always enemies, Gotrek Gurnisson. In times gone past there were grammars and dictionaries written. Old Dwarfish is not a language much studied now among the elves, but I have an interest in such things…’
The dwarf glared at Teclis but did not speak further. He seemed on the verge of exploding.
‘Both books claim the same thing. The Old Ones possessed powers greater even than our gods in many ways. They not only altered our world’s climate, they did so by moving its position in space. They altered the seasons and the shape of the continents themselves. They raised Ulthuan up out of the sea, and made it a home for the elves.’
&
nbsp; ‘Spare me the lessons in elvish mythology,’ sneered the dwarf.
‘These are not myths, they are truths. They used magic that almost beggars imagination to fix the continents in place and to keep Ulthuan above the waves. They span a web of magic from pole to pole, a lattice of forces that encircles the planet. The Paths of the Old Ones are part of that.’
‘Why?’ asked the man. He seemed to have no trouble believing this, but he possessed a very human curiosity.
‘I do not know. Who can guess the motives of such beings? Not I!’ Teclis wondered if he should avoid telling them his suspicions. All of the events of the past few hours tended to confirm his theories. He decided that he needed these two on his side. They were his only allies here, and they were potentially very powerful ones. ‘It may be that the whole project, the shifting of the planet, the raising of continents, the lifting of both our peoples out of the mire of barbarism, was nothing more than a tiny part of some great cosmic scheme, the purpose of which I do not know.
‘I do know that when the Old Ones left our world, Chaos came. The two things are connected, I am sure. The Old Ones built this whole system so that it connected with a mighty portal at the Northern Pole, a gateway on a size and scale that makes the portals we have passed through seem like a child’s plaything. I suspect the Old Ones may have used it to pass to another world unimaginably remote. Perhaps they were like sailors shipwrecked here and what they built was a beacon or a lifeboat.
‘Whatever its purpose, as they departed they worked some mighty ritual and it failed at least in part. Something went wrong with the portal. It opened a way to somewhere else. The dark powers of Chaos used it to enter our world and almost overran it. To this day, it remains there in the north, mostly quiescent but sometimes erupting like a volcano.’
‘The god Grimnir passed into the North in search of it, and to find a way to close it. So much is written in the Book of Stone and Pain, in the time when the skies rained fire and the world was changed forever,’ said Gotrek. It sounded like the words were torn out of him unwillingly.
‘Then our myths agree on something, Gotrek Gurnisson, for so it is written in the Book of Isha as well.’
‘I still do not see what this has to do with the Paths of the Old Ones.’
‘All of these things are interlinked. Before I can tell you more I must have your word that you will tell no one of this.’
Felix nodded. Gotrek considered, as if wondering if the words contained some sort of snare, and then said, ‘You have it.’
‘Ages ago, evil mages attempted to destroy Ulthuan. They did so by unravelling the network of energies used to keep it above the sea. The attempt failed thanks to the effort of many heroic elven mages who gave their lives to prevent it. They stabilised the system and rewove the great net as best they could but they discovered that the work of the Old Ones was more damaged than they had imagined. Chaos was using the Paths of the Old Ones as a way to invade our world, and as a source of corruption. The places where they touched the earth became tainted places. My ancestors needed the power within the paths to stabilise Ulthuan. I suspect they got it by draining energy from the paths.’
‘And now someone has opened the paths again,’ said the man.
‘The magical energy needed to maintain my homeland is being bled off and if something is not done soon, it will be destroyed.’
Gotrek Gurnisson cursed. He turned to a tree, lifted his axe. There was an awful crack as with one blow he sheared through it. Splinters flew everywhere. The tree began to topple. Teclis gasped; it was the most awesome feat of strength he had ever seen. The oak had been almost as thick through as his body, and solid. The tree’s branches made a terrible noise as they impacted on those of other trees as it fell. The sound was like a mastodon stampeding through the forest.
‘I hate trees almost as much as I hate elves,’ said Gotrek Gurnisson.
‘What has got into you, dwarf?’ said Teclis.
‘You have just given me the means to avenge the Beard,’ said the Slayer.
‘The what?’ said Felix.
‘It is an old tale,’ said Teclis, ‘and one best not dwelt on. An elven king insulted a dwarf ambassador in a shameful way. Suffice to say that because of it, the elves and dwarfs fought the bloodiest war in history. It’s an insult the dwarfs still wish to avenge to this day.’
‘You mean to say you would let a continent full of people be slain to avenge a beard?’ Felix Jaeger asked the dwarf. He sounded incredulous.
‘A land full of elves,’ said the dwarf, in a grating voice. ‘And not merely to avenge the clipping of the beard, but to right the many wrongs that are set to the elven account in the Great Book of Grudges.’
‘Well, that’s different, then,’ said Felix Jaeger sarcastically. Teclis was pleased to see that the man was on his side, for it occurred to him that the simplest way for Gotrek Gurnisson to ensure the doom of Ulthuan was for him to use the axe and take Teclis’s head. After that there would be no one capable of stopping the impending catastrophe in time. Perhaps, thought Teclis, now would be the time to use his most destructive spells. Best to slay the dwarf before the dwarf slew him. Still, he had one last throw of the dice.
‘You swore to aid me,’ he said.
‘If it was not dishonourable,’ said Gotrek Gurnisson. ‘And you left that decision up to me.’
Teclis cursed inwardly. ‘It is said dwarfs would haggle over a contract while the world burned.’
‘It is said the words of an elf are as slippery as machine oil.’
‘This is foolish,’ said the man. ‘You two stand and argue while the lives of a nation are at stake.’
‘More than a nation,’ said Teclis. ‘If that will make any difference.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘The old ley lines do not just underpin Ulthuan. They run through other places – the Worlds Edge Mountains, for instance.’
‘I do not believe you,’ said the dwarf.
‘Was there not a time when the mountains shook and many dwarfish cities suffered? Did not the skaven emerge to take one of your holds?’
‘Karag Eight Peaks,’ said the man.
‘The skaven once experimented with machines that tapped the power of the ley lines. I do not know if they did this deliberately or unknowing. I would guess the latter, knowing the ratmen. In any case, the devices proved too deadly even for them…’
‘Unless they are the ones behind our present troubles,’ said the man.
‘How would you know what the skaven do? Unless you consort with rats, which is not a thing I would put past elves.’
‘We intervened when we sensed their sorceries, and sent a force of mages and warriors to destroy them. A few returned to tell us of the battle.’
‘It must be a famous one, to be so well renowned,’ sneered Gotrek Gurnisson.
‘Not all who fight seek glory,’ said Teclis, feeling his patience coming to an end. ‘Nor do their names live forever afterwards. Some give their lives willingly so others might live on, and ask no reward.’
‘And you would be one of those, would you, elf?’
Teclis smiled nastily. ‘I have no intention of dying at all if I can help it,’ he said.
‘Sensible man,’ he heard the human mutter under his breath.
‘Are you with me? Or do you wish to go back on your word? Surely not even a dwarf can see something dishonourable in staving off a disaster that might engulf the mountain halls themselves.’
‘Aye, if what you say is true.’
‘If I am lying to you, kill me,’ said Teclis.
‘That goes without saying,’ said the dwarf.
‘What do you want us to do?’ asked the human. He was visibly reluctant, caution and a desire for self-preservation obviously warring with the urge to help.
‘Whatever I am doing, two such mighty warriors could be of help,’ said Teclis. ‘I fear I shall need swords and axes before this all ends.’
‘I thought as much,’ s
aid the man. ‘What I meant was – what do you want us to do now?’
‘We need to find the source of the trouble and eliminate it. I must locate the Oracle of the Truthsayers, whoever she is. If we cannot now… well, we are on Albion, and perhaps close to our goal, for the records say that this is where the greatest temples of the Old Ones were in the ancient times. The main nexus of the ley lines is here, the grand confluence of all their magical energies. We must find it, and from there we must find a way to close the paths.’
‘You are the wizard,’ said Felix Jaeger. ‘You know more of these things than us. Lead us to the temple and we will help you get in. After that, it’s up to you.’
The man looked at the dwarf as if expecting disagreement, and was obviously surprised to find none.
‘Very well,’ said Teclis. ‘But first we must rest and there are rituals that need to be performed.’
‘Rituals?’ said the man.
‘First we must make sure the daemons cannot take you once more.’
‘That sounds like a good idea to me. How will you ensure that?’
‘There are spells I can perform that will secure your soul and your body, and break any links that might remain.’
‘Links? You’re telling me that those things in that weird other world might be able to find me again?’
‘Unless I do something, it’s almost certain. They will come to you in your dreams… at first.’
The man fell silent. He looked thoughtful and scared. The dwarf just looked angry, but that seemed to be the natural state of things.
‘Best cast your spells then,’ said the man.
‘This will hurt somewhat,’ said the elf.
‘I suspected as much,’ said the man. ‘Let’s get it over with.’
Teclis led the way along the forest path, hoping that the two would follow him. He was impressed by the human’s courage. He had endured the spells of exorcism with very little complaint and Teclis knew how painful they could be. The process had left its mark, though. The man’s fingers constantly sought out the amulet Teclis had given him. Teclis considered the wisdom of that decision. It was worth parting with some of his own protections in order to ensure that his companion was not possessed. He was fairly certain that his spells had been successful, but with the strange flow of magic in Albion, it was best to take no chances. And there were other reasons for giving the human the talisman. If the dwarf turned against him, it would be as well to have an ally, willing or unwilling.