Gotrek & Felix- the Third Omnibus - William King & Nathan Long

by Warhammer

  ‘What is it?’ he asked. The elf continued to stare at the tabletop.

  ‘Unless I am much mistaken, and I doubt I am, this is a map.’

  The lines graved on the stone certainly looked that way. ‘What of?’ Felix asked.

  ‘The world.’

  Felix laughed, realising what had looked familiar. Parts of the pattern resembled the maps his father possessed of the Old World. Only parts, though.

  ‘It can’t be. There is no land so close to the coast of Estalia,’ he said. ‘If there was our mariners would have found it.’

  Teclis traced part of the pattern with his finger. It was a ring of islands surrounding a central sea. ‘This looks like Ulthuan,’ he said, ‘but it is not. Quite.’

  He moved his hand again. ‘This is the coastline of Northern Lustria, but it’s in the wrong place. And this is the cold hell of Naggaroth but its relationship to the area that should be Ulthuan is wrong.’

  ‘Maybe the mapmaker did not have eyes quite like ours,’ suggested Gotrek. Felix was not entirely sure he was being sarcastic.

  ‘Possibly,’ said Teclis. ‘Or maybe it was a map of the world in a different time. When the continents were different. It is said the Old Ones shifted the lands and pinned them in new places as part of their great design.’

  ‘Or maybe,’ suggested Felix, ‘it’s a map of the world as it was intended to be.’

  ‘That, Felix Jaeger, is a terrifying thought,’ said Teclis.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because perhaps someone still intends to make it so?’

  Felix looked at the elf, not quite knowing how to respond. Teclis seemed lost in thought.

  ‘Perhaps the Old Ones’ plans were never completed. Perhaps they were interrupted. Perhaps the opening of the paths is a sign that other things have reactivated.’

  ‘That is insane,’ said Felix, unable to contain his thoughts.

  ‘Is it, Felix Jaeger? We are dealing with the work of beings as far beyond you and I as we are above an insect. How would we qualify to judge what is sane or not for them? We might as well judge the sanity of gods.’

  ‘The Chaos Gods are insane,’ said Gotrek.

  ‘Perhaps not from their point of view, Gotrek Gurnisson.’

  ‘Only an elf could say something like that.’

  ‘Perhaps because we are not as rigid in our thinking as dwarfs.’

  ‘Or your morals.’

  ‘Only an elf and a dwarf would argue about such things while they discussed the end of the world,’ said Felix. Both of them looked at him dangerously. ‘If the continents are intended to shift like carpets, our people and our cities will be so much dust.’

  ‘If,’ said Gotrek. ‘So far all we have heard are some long-winded speculations from a pointy-eared, tree-loving, spellsinging–’

  ‘If there is even the possibility he is correct, something must be done,’ said Felix quickly before the argument could erupt in its full glory. ‘The earth would shake, the mountains would rain fire, foul warpstone dust would fall from the skies…’

  Even as he said the words, Felix realised that he was describing events from the legendary age before Sigmar and the rise of the Empire. He could see that the thought had struck the elf too. ‘Perhaps all of this has happened before,’ said Teclis. ‘During the Dawn Ages, before even the War of the Beard, when elf and dwarf were allies against a common foe.’

  ‘It was not the dwarfs who betrayed their sworn oaths,’ said Gotrek testily.

  ‘Quite,’ said the elf. ‘But putting that predictable interruption to one side for a moment, I believe Felix Jaeger is right. If there is even the remotest possibility of something like this happening, then our ancient animosities must be put aside… until a better time, for I know how unlikely it is that a dwarf will ever lay down a grudge.’

  ‘It seems to me that you are engaging in a mighty load of speculation on the basis of one old map. Who says this has anything to do with the Old Ones and their works?’ asked Murdo. There was something odd in the old man’s manner, Felix thought. He wondered if the others had noticed this.

  ‘All of Albion is connected with them,’ said Teclis. ‘It is the nexus of their work. It formed some mighty part in their great scheme of things, no less so than Ulthuan. This fortress is part of some greater design, I am sure of it.’

  Murdo looked troubled, as if the elf was touching on matters that he felt were best left unspoken.

  How much does Murdo really know about such things, Felix wondered? He is more familiar with these ancient secrets than he lets on.

  ‘Perhaps we should be getting back now,’ said Felix.

  ‘Not yet,’ said the mage. ‘We are close to the mouth of another portal. I can sense it. We must investigate it before we leave. We must get closer to the heart of this structure.’

  ‘I was afraid you were going to say something like that,’ said Felix. The elf laughed as if he were joking.

  The mists closed in as they left the hall. Somehow they were coming through the walls. Luminescent insects drifted among them. Their buzzing whines keened in Felix’s ears. Their bites blotched his skin. He noticed that not one of them ever seemed to close with the elf, even though the others were all troubled by them. Infuriating, Felix thought. The elf led them deeper into the ancient structure, through a labyrinth of stonework that made Felix’s head spin. Sometimes they came to dead ends and were forced to retrace their steps. At others, the passageways would take ninety-degree turns for no foreseeable reason. The elf did not seem discouraged. He merely nodded his head, as if this confirmed something.

  He strode over to Gotrek, who was far more at home in such places than he could ever be.

  ‘Can you find your way out of here?’ he asked in a whisper.

  ‘Aye, manling, no dwarf ever got lost in such a simple maze as this. I could find my way out blindfolded if need be.’

  ‘I don’t think that will be necessary. Impressive as it would be.’

  ‘There is something odd about this place.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This maze is laid out seemingly without rhyme or reason. Look to your left and you will see a dead end. To the right if we went that way, I have no doubt that once that corridor turns it too would reach a dead end.’

  ‘Why are you so certain?’

  ‘There is a pattern here. It’s obvious.’

  ‘Not to me,’ said Felix.

  ‘You are not a dwarf brought up in the endless corridors of Karaz-a-Karak.’

  ‘True. What is this pattern you see?’

  ‘Unless I miss my guess, it is the same as one of the ones we have seen on the stones in the Paths of the Old Ones, and inscribed on the rock walls of the barrow in Sylvania, and on the walls of this place. Similar even to the ones tattooed on the faces of our friends.’

  ‘You can remember all of these?’ said Felix, amazed.

  ‘Dwarfs have a good memory for more things than grudges.’ Felix thought about this and decided that it was most likely true. He had never known the Slayer to lie. But if it were, then somehow this was all part of a vast puzzle, one that Felix did not quite understand. And if the elf was right, he most likely never would. His mind was not equipped to grasp what creatures that were close to gods might have been about when creating such a thing.

  The maze continued until they found themselves standing in a huge chamber, gazing down into a vast pit. The ceiling had collapsed above and tons of rock had fallen downward, crushing whatever was below. Massive webs formed a new roof overhead and blocked out part of the moonlight. Rain dripped through and the wet droplets made Felix shiver.

  ‘We are in the centre of this place. The entrance to the paths is directly below us,’ said Teclis.

  Gotrek’s bitter mad laughter rang out. ‘Then you will go no further. Give me a hundred dwarfish miners and a month and we might get through those rocks. Might. Unless you can use magic there is no way through.’

  ‘The stones here are still partially protected by
runework,’ said Teclis. ‘With ten mages and ten days we might clear this, but now is not the time.’

  ‘So what now?’ Felix asked.

  ‘We go back and seek another way to our goal,’ said Teclis, looking at Gotrek as if daring him to say something.

  The dwarf stiffened and glanced around, head cocked as if listening. His stance bespoke the utmost wariness and preparation to do violence.

  ‘Something is approaching,’ said Gotrek, raising his axe. ‘And I doubt it’s friendly.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ‘What is it?’ Felix asked.

  ‘Nothing natural,’ said the Slayer. The humans had already readied their weapons. Dugal and Murdo stood with spears raised. Culum had produced a huge hammer with a stone head. Teclis had his hand on his sword. Quicksilver runes flowed along the blade.

  The things emerging from the other entrances were not entirely spider-like. They pranced along the edge of the great pit on only six long spidery legs for one thing – it was funny how you could notice such details at a time like this, Felix thought – and they had faces that looked sinisterly human mounted high on their abdomens. Their eyes burned with an intelligence that no spider had ever possessed. Luminous fungus blotched their sides. A wild ululating wail emerged from their mouths. There were perhaps a dozen of them. Felix noticed that they had two smaller manipulative arms at the front of their bodies. Perhaps they were the ones who had crunched the bones after all. Several of them scuttled up and along the walls, magically attached. Behind the spiders came a host of human mutants. Twisted beings marked by the stigmata of Chaos who looked on the spiders with a mixture of fear and reverence emerged from every entrance to the huge hall. They were armed with spears and slings and clubs.

  ‘Perhaps we should leave here,’ said Felix. Gotrek charged along the pit edge towards the leading spider thing. Teclis raised his arms and sent a wave of golden fire lancing towards the humans. A few cast spears which ignited as they arced towards him, shrivelling to black ash in flight. Screams echoed around the ancient walls as flesh melted and ran like wax. Through it all, the spiders kept coming. When the magical flames touched them the blotched patterns on their sides blazed brighter and they seemed to move faster. Are they immune to spells, Felix wondered?

  Teclis strode into the air, taking up a position above the centre of the great pit, and gestured. Lightning lashed from his hands, whipping the stone. Sparks arced up from the puddles of water. Felix saw a reptile-faced mutant flung into the air on a pillar of lightning. The spiders ignored it and kept on coming.

  ‘They are ancient guardian daemons,’ shouted Murdo. ‘Save your spells.’

  Gotrek meanwhile had met the leading spider. His axe thunked into its armoured side. Instead of cleaving straight through as it normally would, it bit deep into the chitin and stuck. Felix shuddered to think at how resistant the creatures must be to withstand the appalling force of the Slayer’s blows. Was it possible that their end was in sight, here in this god-forsaken pesthole in the backwaters of Albion?

  He had no more time for such thoughts. A flicker of movement caught from the corner of his eye caused him to duck. A slingstone shattered against the rock walls behind him. He cursed and kept moving, looking for cover, wondering if he dared ditch the torch that made him such an obvious target. There was enough light here to see by but he had to get back through the stone corridors. If any of the others were present there would be no problem but if they were separated…

  Above him he saw a huge daemon spider moving along the walls. A spray of webbing spurted from its bulbous rear and hit the ground near Felix. He leapt back to avoid the sticky stuff and saw another spider closing the ground between them with appalling speed. It sprang down from the wall and landed amid the men of Albion, scattering them. With unerring instinct it came straight at Felix.

  ‘Do not let them take you alive!’ shouted Murdo. ‘They will implant their eggs within you, make you into one of them.’

  Now that is a disgusting idea, thought Felix, whirling the torch so that it flared brighter. As the creature neared him, he struck it in the face with his torch, hoping to blind it. Moments later his blade bit into the tough chitin of its leg. He aimed for the weakest point, shearing through the joint. The thing squealed with pain as its leg separated. Black stuff oozed from the wound, sealing it. Another leg flicked forward. It hit Felix with the force of a hammer blow, knocking him onto his back. The torch left his numbed fingers. He only just managed to keep his grip on his sword.

  He rolled aside as the thing moved its bulk above him, and brought its foreleg down again. He could see there were hooks on it that could slash skin to the bone. He barely managed to evade it, but it snagged his cloak pinning him to the ground. Using his left hand, Felix desperately attempted to free the clasp of the cloak, while stabbing upward with his sword. The blade pierced the thing’s underbelly, and dark stuff dropped from the wounds. It burned where it touched his skin. Perhaps that was not such a good idea, he thought, noticing the legs of the approaching mutants as they came ever closer.

  The stench was near overpowering, of rot and mould and something old and fusty, mingled with a smell like rotten eggs and curdled milk. It made him want to gag. Instead he gritted his teeth and grabbed the hilt with both hands, twisted the sword, and proceeded to saw into the wound. The burning blood boiled over his hands. The spider-thing screamed louder. Felix felt like joining in, but did not.

  Lightning flashed and flames danced. Whirlwinds of golden fire swept across the room. Felix found himself being dragged along beneath the spider as it headed up the wall once more. He tucked his head into his chest to avoid having it bumping on the stone. The strain made his neck ache and the muscles bulge until they felt like taut wire beneath his skin. Slowly his blade was dragged from the wound. He glanced down and saw that most of the mutants were in retreat, unable to cope with the blazing energies that the elf wizard sent ravening across the chamber. Felix pulled his blade clear and dropped to the floor. Overhead the thing he had wounded seemed to be deflating like a punctured sac of bile as it limped and scurried upwards towards the shadows.

  Elsewhere things were not going well for his party. Gotrek had overcome his beast by the simple expedient of chopping it to pieces. No matter how tough the spiders were, they were not tough enough to withstand that terrible axe for long. However, even as Felix watched, three more of the creatures began to surround the Slayer, spurting sticky web stuff from their abdomens that was slowing the dwarf down. Two more pressed on the men of Crannog Mere. If there were any more to be dealt with, they were hidden from view.

  Felix raced over towards Gotrek. A flying leap took him onto the back of the spider. His fingers caught on the fine mesh of hair that covered its back and he pulled himself up. The thing roared as it realised what he was about. It tried to reach back with its small forearms to get him but they were not long enough, and its other legs were not positioned to enable it to dislodge him. He gritted his teeth and brought his sword down onto the back of the thing’s humanoid face. His fingers were numb now from the poison that had spilled on them earlier, and he was desperate to do damage before they froze completely.

  As the blade bit home, the face screamed, a sound oddly like a human child. The daemon spider began to buck and shake itself from side to side, hoping to throw its burden clear. Felix held grimly on and kept stabbing away, and the thing’s struggles eventually grew weaker and weaker. As the spider jigged backwards and forwards he caught glimpses of the others.

  Culum had partially pulped one of the spiders with his massive hammer and Murdo was jabbing his spear into its vulnerable eyes. Dugal, though, shrieked as he was lifted up by a set of fiendish mandibles. The spider carrying him backed away towards the exit. Felix wanted to help but there was nothing he could do.

  A wave of fire descended from the elf wizard and engulfed Gotrek. What treachery was this, Felix wondered? Was Teclis mad to strike down their mightiest warrior in the midst of this desperat
e affray? Or had he been in league with these foul daemons all along? Had his mind been poisoned by some evil magic? Felix felt a wave of despair pass through his numbed and pain-wracked frame. If the elf was against them all hope was gone.

  Heartbeats later, though, the method behind the wizard’s madness became clear. The flames flickered around Gotrek shrivelling away the sticky webs that threatened to immobilise him. A second later, a mighty blow from the axe chopped through the thorax of one of the creatures. Both halves kept moving for a moment before collapsing to the floor. The struggles of the thing beneath Felix were subsiding, which was just as well since his numbed fingers were finding it increasingly difficult to maintain their grip. He stabbed one last time for good measure and then let go, rolling to absorb the impact as he hit the floor.

  Swiftly he pulled himself to his feet and went to aid Dugal. Thinking he spied a weakness in the things, he aimed at the place where the leg merged with body and the armour seemed less substantial. It was a difficult strike to place and his first blow went awry. His second bit home and he was rewarded. The blade found a weak spot in the armour and slid home easily. Once more he twisted it. The thing bucked and writhed in agony, dropping Dugal. A moment later, Culum and Murdo were on it hammering and stabbing with a vengeance. It swiftly retreated backwards into the gloom, leaving them alone to watch Gotrek dismember his foe.

  Felix inspected Dugal. The screaming had stopped. He lay still and cold as a corpse. Felix could see there were punctures in his tunic. He took out his knife and cut it away. The flesh beneath was bruised and bled slowly where the mandibles had penetrated flesh. He could tell by the look of horror in the man’s eyes that he was still conscious and aware of what was happening to him.