Beyond the Rift (WHF/FFXIV)
- Thread starter Maugan Ra
- Start date
- Crossover Mature
Nothing in what you just quoted shows any one shooting at her and some thrown together barricades are not much when it comes to fortifications.
She literally is jumping across the roofs and when she gets to where the Barricades have been setup see what happen she because of the berserker rage she's in start casting a spell. The post even says that if the guys on the barricades had even looked up to where Elzira was then would not have even seen her, but that they had no time for such things because the time between Elzira seeing what happening and acting was instant.
Queshire
Wants a pink flamingo for their lawn.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
You can click on the quoted section in order to expand it.
Your right and I was about to edit my post however the two situations we were talking about were different I was referring to in my first post about the stuff with the Skaven and he thought I was talking about the Tallbastion stuff. Although considering that she use magic to Harden her Skin that is not much different than a Life Wizard Casting Flesh to Stone or other spells that increase Armor saves and thus not outside of the Abliity of a bunch of Characters in Warhammer. That's leaving aside the fact that Volkmar and the At-Ulric have Ward saves as baseline that are always active and Gotrek has Grimnir's axe which has been slowly changing him to be less like a regular Dwarf and more like the Ancestor God himself.
So using magic to tank a volley of bullets is impressive it not that impressive when if come to named Characters in Warhammer Fantasy.
- Location
- Drachyench on Discord
Fun fact: If you take the Time of Legends novels as the definitive canon, this is how Nagash was beaten the first time.
Nagash was trolling on the last major city to resist them, had just broke down their wards, and was about to claim victory leading from the front when some Lamians returning from Cathay decided to introduce him to a fancy invention they'd brought home with them called gonnes. Nagash, put simply, does not fare well.
What I'm saying is if you try to apply Warhammer Fantasy game mechanics 1:1 to Warhammer Fantasy Lore you're going to have a bad time. Statistically twelve Empire Swordsmen with a Standard Bearer will not beat an Ushabti in melee [four attacks, two hits, maybe one wound; three attacks, two hit, two wounds; 2 Ranks Standard Outnumber + Maybe 1 Wound v 1 Likely 2 Wounds = Crumble]. You'll get twelve dead Empire Swordsmen and an Ushabti that needs a thorough scrubbing by some mummified aides.
- Location
- Massuchusetts
A few chapters before the watchmen were shooting down refugees with cannons simply because they were at a risk of being infected. So the nobles having them shooting down civilians to prevent the ratman from taking control of the city make sense.
Since this is going by Terror in Talebheim campaign the necromancer is most likely Gugula Skell. She is a noblewoman who sponsers artists, but secretly works for the skaven in return for access to dead bodies and a copy of the Liber Mortis.
- Location
- London, England
Can we please stop spoiling exact plot details on a whim? Yes I'm adapting a specific adventure from the rpg for this arc (though we've already gone pretty far off the rails) but that doesn't mean I or the other readers want every single detail of what is to come spelled out randomly in the thread ahead of time.
I hope we get to see Yavinder in action. Decked out in his personal Elf armor with a cool blade. Probably to defend his store and he ain't getting future customers if the Skaven have their way.
XVIII - The Dead and the Dying
- Location
- London, England
Chapter Eighteen – Dead and Dying
In Elriza's experience, undead came in two broad categories; the material kind who served as vessels for all manner of foreign and oft malevolent spirits, and the immaterial variety formed as echoes in the local aether after a particularly violent or ruinous death. The creature in the street ahead appeared to fit into neither of these boxes, for while it was unquestionably a corpse – one yet wrapped in its burial shroud, no less – there was none of the cold intellect or cruel hunger in its movements she might have expected. Instead it simply shambled down the street towards them, raising its three arms in hungry embrace, and collapsed as Thancred's blade removed its head in a single perfect strike.
"Not just undead, but mutants as well," General Stallmaier exclaimed in a disgusted voice, shaking his head as he peered down at the corpse. All around them were the priests and officers fresh from the meeting, none of whom had apparently even considered the notion of doing less than riding out to face this new threat in person. "Truly, the gods are testing us."
"Perhaps not," G'raha mused, squatting by the still-twitching corpse and running a thoughtful finger across the seam between torso and arm, "Look, see here? Stitches, skin transplants, bloodless growth – this poor fellow was modified post-mortem, though for what purpose I cannot begin to fathom."
Distantly, someone screamed. It was a shrill sound, pained and fearful, and it echoed shrilly through the narrow streets until it seemed to come from all directions at once. A moment later a second joined it, then a third, each overlapping in frantic symphony until one suddenly fell to silence. The assembled crowd shifted, brandishing weapons and peering into the gloom, but without clear source or target they could do little save look to their leaders for direction.
"Confusion, misdirection, the champions of peace and order in disarray," Urianger pronounced solemnly, consulting the cards that floated on glowing trails through the air before him. Several of those present edged away, unnerved by the words as much as the obvious display of magic, but more frowned and listened closer. "Yet… no great threat emerges, nor players to take the stage. 'tis as though a cruel accident has arisen to bedevil the people on this lonely eve."
"No accident. This is a distraction," Stallmaier growled, one hand balling into a fist, "With undead scattered through the city, we either pull forces off the front or commit our reserves to rooting them out instead of preparing for a counterattack… Sir Mirell! I have need of your templars."
"By your will, General," the knight said, an eager smile on her face, "The Knights of the Verdant Field stand ready."
"Mount up, and ride for every command post in the quarter," Stallmaier said, drawing his bow and setting the string firmly in place, "I want enemy concentrations identified, with evacuation routes and safe harbours set as a priority. We'll need to flush them out one district at a time."
Whatever she might have thought of the man's politics or attitudes, Elriza could not deny that Stallmaier knew his trade. A more conventional soldier would have regarded monstrous foes in a dense urban environment to be the cruellest kind of nightmare, but to a ranger of the Hunter's Council it seemed one prey was much the same as any other. Sightings were called in by breathless runners, grim-faced volunteers baited them into open positions, and strike teams of heavily armoured knights rode them down in turn. Block by block, district by district they went, until at last they reached the greatest concentration of them all.
The Taalgarten was one part shrine to two parts public park, a green and verdant space left undeveloped in the very heart of the temple district for the benefits of those devotees unable to escape the city for the primal wilderness beyond. It made for a natural rallying and muster point, and consequently a focus for a great majority of the shambling dead, and by the time Elriza arrived with her companions the fighting had spread to encompass the whole swathe of greenery from one end to another. Here a muscular man in armour emblazoned with the twin-tailed comet bludgeoned a scuttling spider-thing to pieces with a hammer, there three initiates of Taal harried a lumbering beast with long spears, but for all the horrors on display it was clear at even the briefest glance that the bulk of the violence was already done.
Along the slopes of a gentle knoll at the edge of the park stood a pile of twisted corpses some ten foot high, and looking over it with a possessive eye was a squat, muscular humanoid with a mighty axe and a great crest of bright orange hair.
"Fine work, Master Dwarf," Stallmaier called, approaching the stranger with a smile. Elriza went with him, one wary eye on their surroundings, though it seemed largely unnecessary. What few undead remained were even now being dragged down by the general's knights, she and her comrades left almost superfluous by comparison. It was a strange feeling, but not unwelcome. "If this was your work, then you have saved a great many lives here this night. It is not a debt that will soon be forgotten."
"Bah. Barely worth the effort," the dwarf grumbled, shaking his head and spitting on the nearest of the corpses. Elaborate tattoos rippled and shifted across ruddy flesh as he rolled his shoulders and flexed his pillar-thick arms, and Elriza could only wonder at the sheer quantity of scars he seemed to bear on every inch of exposed flesh. Did he not believe in armour at all? "Still alive, manling?"
"The night was not without a close call or two, but yes," replied a nearby human, picking his way across the battlefield to join them. The man's dirty blond hair was pulled back in a loose tail, and he wore a long cloak of red wool stained with all manner of dirt and undead gore, but he seemed cheerful enough. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Elriza and G'raha, focusing on the latter's ears for a long and uncomfortable moment, then he seemed to remember himself and offered the group a polite bow. "Felix Jaeger, late of Altdorf, at your service. My companion is Gotrek Gurnisson. Might I have the honour of an introduction?"
"Christoph Stallmaier, Taalbaston Guard," the general replied, leaving Elriza to close her mouth with a brief grimace. "We were in council regarding the attacks when news came of the undead. It seems Talabheim has no end of enemies this season."
"Call me when any of them are worth fighting," The dwarf, Gotrek, snorted as he turned to walk away, "Or don't. We'll find it ourselves, sooner or later."
Stallmaier frowned at that, evidently put out, and while Felix winced and offered an apologetic bow he seemed no keener to linger here than his companion. Elriza watched them for a moment, then glancing down at the pile of corpses the dwarf had left behind. He was a mighty warrior, it seemed, and besides which there was the matter of his axe. She couldn't say what it was, but something about the weapon called to her, tugging at the very edges of her spirit.
"Would a Grey Seer suffice?"
The dwarf turned, facing them for the first time to reveal an empty pit where one eye should be and the gleam of raw fury in the other. "You! Who taught you Khazalid?"
Elriza blinked, taken aback, but before she could reply Felix stepped up and took a position almost but not exactly between the two.
"Peace, Gotrek, they're clearly not to know," he said smoothly, offering a politely strained smile to Elriza, "Kindly forgive my companion. It is not the custom of the Dwarves to share their language with outsiders, and for every honourable exception we encounter three scavengers or would-be thieves."
"Ah," Elriza nodded, switching back to Reikspeil. She couldn't fairly claim to understand why a people would guard their language so carefully, but good manners hardly required her to. "Apologies. Nobody taught me; I speak every language on this star."
"Hmph. More magic," Gotrek grumbled, but to his credit he seemed mollified, waving off the earlier anger and removing the hand from his axe, "Speaking of – tell me of this rat mage."
Stallmaier seemed about to speak, perhaps to deny or equivocate that such a being existed, and Elriza took some small pleasure in cutting him off and speaking first. "There's a second host of skaven coming, led by Asorak Steeleye. The… my contact called him a Grey Seer, claimed he was responsible for all of this."
"Hm. A wizard-priest, at the head of an army…" Gotrek mused, a gleam of interest in his eye that made Felix sigh with resignation, "A mighty doom indeed."
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Elriza snorted, shaking her head. Gotrek glared at her, his one eye glittering with malice, but she just shrugged. "I've got someone looking for him now. When the attack begins, I'm going to find him and kill him. You want in?"
Gotrek frowned, his brow furrowing like the great ravines of Corethas, but he said nothing. It fell to his human companion to reply for the both of them.
"Perhaps we might discuss this elsewhere? Over a drink at camp, perhaps?"
-/-
Camp turned out to be a quite literal term, the pair claiming one tent among many donated to the sprawling masses of Talabheim's displaced refugees. They'd chosen to set up in the corner of a small garden, alongside at least a dozen other displaced families being fed and watered by the generosity of the local landholders. Judging by the sparse pile of bags and belongings, it seemed likely they meant to be moving on soon in any case.
"We were in the Tallows district when the first attack came," Felix Jaeger explained briefly, settling himself down besides the fire pit and kindling the flame back to life with a wince, "Or so Gotrek assures me. No man ever born has matched a dwarf's sense of space when venturing beneath the earth."
Elriza nodded, settling herself down by the fire in turn, pulling G'raha down by her side a moment later. He did not protest, simply yawning tiredly and snuggling into her side, while Thancred and Urianger opted to remain standing at the edge of the firelight.
"Old Market, ourselves," she said, choosing not to ask how the pair opposite had managed to cross the barricades and internal walls to leave the Tallows behind. Perhaps the tunnels she'd passed through with the smuggler extended under the city proper? "Held off the first waves, then pulled back here."
Gotrek leaned forwards at that, his one eye shining brightly in the firelight. When she'd first heard of his kind she'd assumed them to be another variety of Lallafel, perhaps distinguished from the halflings in the same manner that the plainsfolk and dunesfolk of her homeland had grown distinct over the centuries, but that was clearly incorrect. Without a shirt or armour to bar her gaze she could clearly see that Gotrek's musculature was entirely different to that of a human or halfling, to say nothing of the way the ambient aether seemed to draw back from his presence.
"I heard that a berserker fought there, slaying ratmen by the hundreds. That was you?" he asked, and when she nodded Gotrek just shook his head and spat to one side in disgust. "Disappointing."
Elriza blinked, taken aback, but again Felix spoke up before confusion could become offense.
"Gotrek has sworn an oath to Grimnir, one of his people's ancestor gods, to seek out the mightiest foe in any battle," he explained, his words smooth in the way of one speaking something oft repeated, "I venture he was hoping you might qualify. As a foe, I mean – doubtless you are a skilled warrior, and I should not doubt your courage, but there would be nothing honourable in seeking battle against an ally when there are yet Skaven upon the field."
"I see," Elriza mused, considering the human in turn. He seemed the less remarkable of the two by far, but she was not blind to how he kept stepping in to smooth over ruffled pride, nor how ready Gotrek was to allow it. A diplomat and leader, then, as Alphinaud so often was to her? "And you, Herr Jaeger?"
"Ah… my oath is rather more personal," the blond man said with a slightly awkward shrug, "Sufficed to say that I owe Gotrek my life and have chosen to pay the debt by serving as his comrade and chronicler. I've some talent as a poet and storyteller, and when at last he meets a foe equal to his deeds, I hope to make a suitable tribute. Perhaps you have heard of – ah, but what am I saying. You are not from these lands, I take it?"
"What gave it away?" Elriza said dryly, reaching up to scratch her lover behind the ears. G'raha murmured sleepily in protest but made no move to pull away. He'd clearly been working far too hard today. "We are travellers, from the land of Eorzea."
"Hm. I flatter myself as an educated man, and well-travelled compared to more learned scholars, yet I cannot say I know the name," Felix mused, his dark eyes alight with interest, "How did you come to be here?"
Elriza hesitated at that, glancing back at her companions. She'd told Yavinder the truth, but that had been almost unavoidable, given his reaction to the presence of an Elezen. Would it be wise to reveal the truth once more, or play coy with the details? Urianger caught her questioning gaze and nodded, while Thancred just shrugged. She supposed that was as good an answer as she was likely to get.
"I'd be surprised if you did," she said with a shrug, "Eorzea lies on another star. We came hence via sorcery, a path across the void."
She'd been expected incredulity, disbelief, perhaps some measure of awe, but to her surprise Felix simply nodded.
"We've travelled by such means ourselves in the past, though only so far as Albion's misty shores," he said, as if it were a common thing, "Our companion at the time, an elven mage by the name of Teclis, did claim that the paths extended into the void and hence to other stars… though whether even he has ventured so far I could not say."
"He hasn't," Gotrek grunted, scratching at the bald edges of his scalp with calloused fingers, "If he had, he'd have found some way to boast of it. Elgi are like that, and that one worse than most."
"Well, that sounds like quite a story," Elriza grinned, leaning forwards, "Tell me more."
"Perhaps we might trade?" Felix replied with a smile of his own, "Stories of your travels, for stories of ours? I know few better ways to spend an otherwise cold and lonely night."
Elriza nodded and was about to reply when the linkpearl in her ear chimed softly. She paused, mouthing a brief apology to the chronicler, and pressed her hand to the small stone to receive the incoming transmission. "Speak."
"Tomorrow, as the sun sets," the wet, foetid voice of Nelrich the Suppurater made her skin crawl, but she pushed past the discomfort to listen closely, "Three strikes. One through trade-nest, to crush and devour. One to temple-priests, to taint and despoil. One to leader-lair, to seize and demoralise."
Elriza grimaced. A three-prong attack… effective, and entirely beyond her ability to stop. No matter how powerful she was, she could still only be in one place at one time, and that was a lesson she had learned at bitter cost more than once. Well, no use dwelling on it. She would do what she could, and let the rest fall where it may. "And Asorak?"
"He lead-guides the first, near-close to where we spoke," Nelrich said with a wet chuckle, "Listen-seek the bells."
His voice faded, and with a frown Elriza lowered her hand. In theory this was everything she needed, but she was not blind to the many ways it could go wrong. Even if she killed Asorak, the flanking forces would not hear about it before they could do serious damage, and that was assuming she found him. If Nelrich was lying about which thrust the Grey Seer intended to accompany, or simply wrong… well, nothing to be done about it now.
"I'll tell the General," Thancred murmured, disappearing into the night a moment later. The two locals watched him go, curiosity and suspicion briefly visible on their faces, but Elriza just shook her head. She'd fallen short of even getting the officers to accept the notion of working with the information she had, best not to waste time selling a couple of wandering adventurers on the topic.
"Have you ever fought a dragon?" she said instead, and when they nodded she smiled. "Then let me tell you of the first wyrm I ever fought; a great poison-spewing beast named Aiatar. It began, of all things, with cheese…"
Tomorrow the attack would begin, and she would fight with everything she had to kill this Grey Seer and anyone who stood in her way… but tonight they would have peace, and such a gift was far too precious to squander on what-ifs and maybes.
In Elriza's experience, undead came in two broad categories; the material kind who served as vessels for all manner of foreign and oft malevolent spirits, and the immaterial variety formed as echoes in the local aether after a particularly violent or ruinous death. The creature in the street ahead appeared to fit into neither of these boxes, for while it was unquestionably a corpse – one yet wrapped in its burial shroud, no less – there was none of the cold intellect or cruel hunger in its movements she might have expected. Instead it simply shambled down the street towards them, raising its three arms in hungry embrace, and collapsed as Thancred's blade removed its head in a single perfect strike.
"Not just undead, but mutants as well," General Stallmaier exclaimed in a disgusted voice, shaking his head as he peered down at the corpse. All around them were the priests and officers fresh from the meeting, none of whom had apparently even considered the notion of doing less than riding out to face this new threat in person. "Truly, the gods are testing us."
"Perhaps not," G'raha mused, squatting by the still-twitching corpse and running a thoughtful finger across the seam between torso and arm, "Look, see here? Stitches, skin transplants, bloodless growth – this poor fellow was modified post-mortem, though for what purpose I cannot begin to fathom."
Distantly, someone screamed. It was a shrill sound, pained and fearful, and it echoed shrilly through the narrow streets until it seemed to come from all directions at once. A moment later a second joined it, then a third, each overlapping in frantic symphony until one suddenly fell to silence. The assembled crowd shifted, brandishing weapons and peering into the gloom, but without clear source or target they could do little save look to their leaders for direction.
"Confusion, misdirection, the champions of peace and order in disarray," Urianger pronounced solemnly, consulting the cards that floated on glowing trails through the air before him. Several of those present edged away, unnerved by the words as much as the obvious display of magic, but more frowned and listened closer. "Yet… no great threat emerges, nor players to take the stage. 'tis as though a cruel accident has arisen to bedevil the people on this lonely eve."
"No accident. This is a distraction," Stallmaier growled, one hand balling into a fist, "With undead scattered through the city, we either pull forces off the front or commit our reserves to rooting them out instead of preparing for a counterattack… Sir Mirell! I have need of your templars."
"By your will, General," the knight said, an eager smile on her face, "The Knights of the Verdant Field stand ready."
"Mount up, and ride for every command post in the quarter," Stallmaier said, drawing his bow and setting the string firmly in place, "I want enemy concentrations identified, with evacuation routes and safe harbours set as a priority. We'll need to flush them out one district at a time."
Whatever she might have thought of the man's politics or attitudes, Elriza could not deny that Stallmaier knew his trade. A more conventional soldier would have regarded monstrous foes in a dense urban environment to be the cruellest kind of nightmare, but to a ranger of the Hunter's Council it seemed one prey was much the same as any other. Sightings were called in by breathless runners, grim-faced volunteers baited them into open positions, and strike teams of heavily armoured knights rode them down in turn. Block by block, district by district they went, until at last they reached the greatest concentration of them all.
The Taalgarten was one part shrine to two parts public park, a green and verdant space left undeveloped in the very heart of the temple district for the benefits of those devotees unable to escape the city for the primal wilderness beyond. It made for a natural rallying and muster point, and consequently a focus for a great majority of the shambling dead, and by the time Elriza arrived with her companions the fighting had spread to encompass the whole swathe of greenery from one end to another. Here a muscular man in armour emblazoned with the twin-tailed comet bludgeoned a scuttling spider-thing to pieces with a hammer, there three initiates of Taal harried a lumbering beast with long spears, but for all the horrors on display it was clear at even the briefest glance that the bulk of the violence was already done.
Along the slopes of a gentle knoll at the edge of the park stood a pile of twisted corpses some ten foot high, and looking over it with a possessive eye was a squat, muscular humanoid with a mighty axe and a great crest of bright orange hair.
"Fine work, Master Dwarf," Stallmaier called, approaching the stranger with a smile. Elriza went with him, one wary eye on their surroundings, though it seemed largely unnecessary. What few undead remained were even now being dragged down by the general's knights, she and her comrades left almost superfluous by comparison. It was a strange feeling, but not unwelcome. "If this was your work, then you have saved a great many lives here this night. It is not a debt that will soon be forgotten."
"Bah. Barely worth the effort," the dwarf grumbled, shaking his head and spitting on the nearest of the corpses. Elaborate tattoos rippled and shifted across ruddy flesh as he rolled his shoulders and flexed his pillar-thick arms, and Elriza could only wonder at the sheer quantity of scars he seemed to bear on every inch of exposed flesh. Did he not believe in armour at all? "Still alive, manling?"
"The night was not without a close call or two, but yes," replied a nearby human, picking his way across the battlefield to join them. The man's dirty blond hair was pulled back in a loose tail, and he wore a long cloak of red wool stained with all manner of dirt and undead gore, but he seemed cheerful enough. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Elriza and G'raha, focusing on the latter's ears for a long and uncomfortable moment, then he seemed to remember himself and offered the group a polite bow. "Felix Jaeger, late of Altdorf, at your service. My companion is Gotrek Gurnisson. Might I have the honour of an introduction?"
"Christoph Stallmaier, Taalbaston Guard," the general replied, leaving Elriza to close her mouth with a brief grimace. "We were in council regarding the attacks when news came of the undead. It seems Talabheim has no end of enemies this season."
"Call me when any of them are worth fighting," The dwarf, Gotrek, snorted as he turned to walk away, "Or don't. We'll find it ourselves, sooner or later."
Stallmaier frowned at that, evidently put out, and while Felix winced and offered an apologetic bow he seemed no keener to linger here than his companion. Elriza watched them for a moment, then glancing down at the pile of corpses the dwarf had left behind. He was a mighty warrior, it seemed, and besides which there was the matter of his axe. She couldn't say what it was, but something about the weapon called to her, tugging at the very edges of her spirit.
"Would a Grey Seer suffice?"
The dwarf turned, facing them for the first time to reveal an empty pit where one eye should be and the gleam of raw fury in the other. "You! Who taught you Khazalid?"
Elriza blinked, taken aback, but before she could reply Felix stepped up and took a position almost but not exactly between the two.
"Peace, Gotrek, they're clearly not to know," he said smoothly, offering a politely strained smile to Elriza, "Kindly forgive my companion. It is not the custom of the Dwarves to share their language with outsiders, and for every honourable exception we encounter three scavengers or would-be thieves."
"Ah," Elriza nodded, switching back to Reikspeil. She couldn't fairly claim to understand why a people would guard their language so carefully, but good manners hardly required her to. "Apologies. Nobody taught me; I speak every language on this star."
"Hmph. More magic," Gotrek grumbled, but to his credit he seemed mollified, waving off the earlier anger and removing the hand from his axe, "Speaking of – tell me of this rat mage."
Stallmaier seemed about to speak, perhaps to deny or equivocate that such a being existed, and Elriza took some small pleasure in cutting him off and speaking first. "There's a second host of skaven coming, led by Asorak Steeleye. The… my contact called him a Grey Seer, claimed he was responsible for all of this."
"Hm. A wizard-priest, at the head of an army…" Gotrek mused, a gleam of interest in his eye that made Felix sigh with resignation, "A mighty doom indeed."
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Elriza snorted, shaking her head. Gotrek glared at her, his one eye glittering with malice, but she just shrugged. "I've got someone looking for him now. When the attack begins, I'm going to find him and kill him. You want in?"
Gotrek frowned, his brow furrowing like the great ravines of Corethas, but he said nothing. It fell to his human companion to reply for the both of them.
"Perhaps we might discuss this elsewhere? Over a drink at camp, perhaps?"
-/-
Camp turned out to be a quite literal term, the pair claiming one tent among many donated to the sprawling masses of Talabheim's displaced refugees. They'd chosen to set up in the corner of a small garden, alongside at least a dozen other displaced families being fed and watered by the generosity of the local landholders. Judging by the sparse pile of bags and belongings, it seemed likely they meant to be moving on soon in any case.
"We were in the Tallows district when the first attack came," Felix Jaeger explained briefly, settling himself down besides the fire pit and kindling the flame back to life with a wince, "Or so Gotrek assures me. No man ever born has matched a dwarf's sense of space when venturing beneath the earth."
Elriza nodded, settling herself down by the fire in turn, pulling G'raha down by her side a moment later. He did not protest, simply yawning tiredly and snuggling into her side, while Thancred and Urianger opted to remain standing at the edge of the firelight.
"Old Market, ourselves," she said, choosing not to ask how the pair opposite had managed to cross the barricades and internal walls to leave the Tallows behind. Perhaps the tunnels she'd passed through with the smuggler extended under the city proper? "Held off the first waves, then pulled back here."
Gotrek leaned forwards at that, his one eye shining brightly in the firelight. When she'd first heard of his kind she'd assumed them to be another variety of Lallafel, perhaps distinguished from the halflings in the same manner that the plainsfolk and dunesfolk of her homeland had grown distinct over the centuries, but that was clearly incorrect. Without a shirt or armour to bar her gaze she could clearly see that Gotrek's musculature was entirely different to that of a human or halfling, to say nothing of the way the ambient aether seemed to draw back from his presence.
"I heard that a berserker fought there, slaying ratmen by the hundreds. That was you?" he asked, and when she nodded Gotrek just shook his head and spat to one side in disgust. "Disappointing."
Elriza blinked, taken aback, but again Felix spoke up before confusion could become offense.
"Gotrek has sworn an oath to Grimnir, one of his people's ancestor gods, to seek out the mightiest foe in any battle," he explained, his words smooth in the way of one speaking something oft repeated, "I venture he was hoping you might qualify. As a foe, I mean – doubtless you are a skilled warrior, and I should not doubt your courage, but there would be nothing honourable in seeking battle against an ally when there are yet Skaven upon the field."
"I see," Elriza mused, considering the human in turn. He seemed the less remarkable of the two by far, but she was not blind to how he kept stepping in to smooth over ruffled pride, nor how ready Gotrek was to allow it. A diplomat and leader, then, as Alphinaud so often was to her? "And you, Herr Jaeger?"
"Ah… my oath is rather more personal," the blond man said with a slightly awkward shrug, "Sufficed to say that I owe Gotrek my life and have chosen to pay the debt by serving as his comrade and chronicler. I've some talent as a poet and storyteller, and when at last he meets a foe equal to his deeds, I hope to make a suitable tribute. Perhaps you have heard of – ah, but what am I saying. You are not from these lands, I take it?"
"What gave it away?" Elriza said dryly, reaching up to scratch her lover behind the ears. G'raha murmured sleepily in protest but made no move to pull away. He'd clearly been working far too hard today. "We are travellers, from the land of Eorzea."
"Hm. I flatter myself as an educated man, and well-travelled compared to more learned scholars, yet I cannot say I know the name," Felix mused, his dark eyes alight with interest, "How did you come to be here?"
Elriza hesitated at that, glancing back at her companions. She'd told Yavinder the truth, but that had been almost unavoidable, given his reaction to the presence of an Elezen. Would it be wise to reveal the truth once more, or play coy with the details? Urianger caught her questioning gaze and nodded, while Thancred just shrugged. She supposed that was as good an answer as she was likely to get.
"I'd be surprised if you did," she said with a shrug, "Eorzea lies on another star. We came hence via sorcery, a path across the void."
She'd been expected incredulity, disbelief, perhaps some measure of awe, but to her surprise Felix simply nodded.
"We've travelled by such means ourselves in the past, though only so far as Albion's misty shores," he said, as if it were a common thing, "Our companion at the time, an elven mage by the name of Teclis, did claim that the paths extended into the void and hence to other stars… though whether even he has ventured so far I could not say."
"He hasn't," Gotrek grunted, scratching at the bald edges of his scalp with calloused fingers, "If he had, he'd have found some way to boast of it. Elgi are like that, and that one worse than most."
"Well, that sounds like quite a story," Elriza grinned, leaning forwards, "Tell me more."
"Perhaps we might trade?" Felix replied with a smile of his own, "Stories of your travels, for stories of ours? I know few better ways to spend an otherwise cold and lonely night."
Elriza nodded and was about to reply when the linkpearl in her ear chimed softly. She paused, mouthing a brief apology to the chronicler, and pressed her hand to the small stone to receive the incoming transmission. "Speak."
"Tomorrow, as the sun sets," the wet, foetid voice of Nelrich the Suppurater made her skin crawl, but she pushed past the discomfort to listen closely, "Three strikes. One through trade-nest, to crush and devour. One to temple-priests, to taint and despoil. One to leader-lair, to seize and demoralise."
Elriza grimaced. A three-prong attack… effective, and entirely beyond her ability to stop. No matter how powerful she was, she could still only be in one place at one time, and that was a lesson she had learned at bitter cost more than once. Well, no use dwelling on it. She would do what she could, and let the rest fall where it may. "And Asorak?"
"He lead-guides the first, near-close to where we spoke," Nelrich said with a wet chuckle, "Listen-seek the bells."
His voice faded, and with a frown Elriza lowered her hand. In theory this was everything she needed, but she was not blind to the many ways it could go wrong. Even if she killed Asorak, the flanking forces would not hear about it before they could do serious damage, and that was assuming she found him. If Nelrich was lying about which thrust the Grey Seer intended to accompany, or simply wrong… well, nothing to be done about it now.
"I'll tell the General," Thancred murmured, disappearing into the night a moment later. The two locals watched him go, curiosity and suspicion briefly visible on their faces, but Elriza just shook her head. She'd fallen short of even getting the officers to accept the notion of working with the information she had, best not to waste time selling a couple of wandering adventurers on the topic.
"Have you ever fought a dragon?" she said instead, and when they nodded she smiled. "Then let me tell you of the first wyrm I ever fought; a great poison-spewing beast named Aiatar. It began, of all things, with cheese…"
Tomorrow the attack would begin, and she would fight with everything she had to kill this Grey Seer and anyone who stood in her way… but tonight they would have peace, and such a gift was far too precious to squander on what-ifs and maybes.
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Warhammers finest have arrived!
Elriza and her companions teaming up with Gotrek and Felix and it's gonna be a glorious walk on the Skaven.
This is where the fun begins.
This is where the fun begins.
bookwyrm
Doom of Public Libraries
- Location
- Wichita, Kansas
It's very funny to me to imagine Gotrek and Elriza eventually developing plenty of professional respect of each other as warriors, but still never coming to like each other- not out of any of the grand philosophical differences of seeking doom against a worthy foe against seeking to make a stand to bring hope, but just because of petty personal grievances and each lowkey finding the other annoying and off-putting.
- Location
- A Pit Of My Own Making
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Lads lads las!
Not my favourite characters, but pretty nice to see. I guess they didn't appear in the original adventure.
Also Frankinsiten undead are fun
To be fair, this is Elriza's first time meeting a Dwarf and didn't expect that hostility for speaking his race's language compared to her meeting with Yavandir who was polite to her and cordial after learning she speaks his race's language.
I find it funny since this was what her dwarfs look like.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0DqPA_VI3A
Dawi is gonna look at their counterparts with disgust, which they share in common with the Elves who are also turned off by their counterparts as well.
Remember Yavinder when he encountered Elriza's Elf companion and saw through the illusion?
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Alcoholics with a failed society?
FaeGlade Plural
Semper Legens
- Location
- Land of Bureaucracy
- Pronouns
- Plural/They
Appreciation of a good Lali-Ho!
Baron Ouroboros
Emerald Leaves and Crimson Petals
- Location
- Vancouver
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The First's dwarves and the dawi would get along well past initial misunderstandings since they both like alcohol and horned helmets
They both do drink booze until they're blind drunk.
MiskWisk
Hoot
- Location
- Somewhere devoid of wit
- Pronouns
- He
Should be Coerthas.
Felix and Gotrek would definitely wind up being longer term allies of the Scions.
Wonder if Gotrek would want to visit Eorzea to seek his Doom? On the one hand there are a lot of things there that'd give a decent fight, on the other Elriza has killed a lot of the threats already.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
So I'm guessing the Old World expansion's new job is Slayer, then...
Would that be a DPS or a blue DPS?
Would that be a DPS or a blue DPS?
- Location
- Third planet from the star named Sol
- Pronouns
- He/They
Blue DPS, but you're not allowed to switch out to any new jobs once you take it. If you do, all dwarf npcs turn hostile and attack you on sight.