Lords of Darkness (WHF CK2-Ish Quest)

[Ebanu8]

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Forgot to reply to this, but I figure war rolls need it more.

 

[Ebanu8]

Concerto of Two World-Changers, Part VII


Chaos of Change

​

One had to wonder the consequences of killing one of the Four Chaos Gods themselves – consequences that rapidly made themselves known as the heavens churned like a pool of molten lava spewing from an erupting volcano.

From within the depths of the Warp the Chaos Gods stirred, alarmed at the death of one of their colleagues.

"The death of Tzeencth is completely unexpected," Said Khorne, "Not that I'll miss that conniving bastard."

"But the fact that a minor God and two newly ascended Gods did this is shocking," Said Nurgle, "Why, I'm almost tempted to have them share in my blessings and all."

"Not if I corrupt those two souls first," Said Slaneesh, a playful tone in her voice, "Tolcariath and Gunthilde… now their souls look positively delicious."

"I think we're all forgetting the crux of this matter," Said Khorne, "Exactly who else do you think will take advantage of this?"

"The Order Gods? Pfft, they can hardly come close to our realms," Said Slaanesh, "But, Malal and Hashut, along with that idiot Horned Rat, will surely act."

"I have to agree; those opportunists always love moving in for the kill once the enemy's weakened," Said Nurgle.

"You're forgetting one more party," Said Khorne.

"Wait, you can't mean…" Said Slaanesh.

"The Gods of Law," Said Khorne, "They won't sit idle."

"Damn, not them," Said Slaanesh, "We've only fought them a few times but their concepts are just beyond our understanding – and that of the Order Gods as well."

"They seem to like fighting for this 'absolute law' of theirs so much, they want everything to stagnate to a complete standstill!" Said Nurgle, "I remember some of my poor children suffering at their hands…"

"And they are by far one of the greatest threats to us – and the world, ironically enough." Said Khorne, "Even so, we should count ourselves fortunate on three things."

"The first being that Arianka's sleeping in her crystal coffin beneath Praag?" Said Slaanesh.

"That, and second being the fact that they'll have to face Malal, Hashut, the Horned Rat and the other Dark Elven Gods – in lieu of the Order Gods being unable to lift a finger against them," Said Khorne, "They are very powerful and formidable, but by no means invincible."

"Then what's the third?" Asked Nurgle.

"The fact that eventually, Tolcariath, Gunthilde and Dracul will find a way to kill them," Said Khorne.

"What? Those three?" Said Nurgle in surprise, "But they're just minor Gods right now! I could easily give them my special cold and they'd keel over in a single day!"

"That won't happen, and you know it," Said Khorne, "And besides, ironically enough, they're the best possible chance the world has of ending the Gods of Law."

"But how?" Asked Slaanesh, "I don't see how they can succeed where we failed."

"Their ambition stretches beyond the world, beyond the Heavens," Said Khorne, "What I know is that they are a raging fire that cannot be stopped once they have their sights set on a goal – the Gods of Law will be an obstacle they seek to crush."

"When you put it that way, it makes sense," Said Slaanesh, "Being a raging fire means they will burn away anything and everything that opposes them, be it Chaos or Order or even Law – especially Law."

"Now though, it seems we can only wait and see," Said Nurgle, who then chuckled, "I have to admit though, this is perhaps the most fun I've ever had just anticipating what comes next."

"Indeed," Said Khorne, "These changing times will be fun."

IIOII

​

Tolcariath leaned into his chair with a deep sigh, an unseen fatigue settling deeply into his bones and making him sink into the comfort of his plush chair.

"What the hell have we done…?"

"My love? Is something the matter?"

Tolcariath looked to see Gunthilde come into the room, offering him a cup of tea he gratefully accepted.

"I fear we've started a cataclysm in the Heavens that may prove worse than Chaos," Said Tolcariath, "Tell me, what do you know of the Gods of Law?"

"Oh, don't get me started on them," Said Gunthilde darkly, "I've had to deal with fanatics of Alluminas; their worship concepts are far too alien for my liking."

"There's more; I feel them stirring in the Heavens," Said Tolcariath, "Even now, they're preparing to fight Chaos now that the odds have been evened."

"Damn," Said Gunthilde, "I don't know much about the other two, but all I've studied about them are bad news. Solkan… I cannot trust him to have anyone else's best interest in mind, and his anger's too much to be controlled."

"And what's worse is what they aim for and what they embody," Said Tolcariath, "They embody absolute, perfect law, and will stop at nothing to achieve that."

"How convenient they choose now to act," Said Gunthilde.

"And the huge problem is that Gods of Order can do nothing against them – they're only equipped to fight against Chaos," Said Tolcariath, "Ironically enough, the Chaos Gods are the ones keeping them in check for the time being."

"Then what do we do about them?" Said Gunthilde, "Rampant change may be bad, but our change is for the good of the Empire! And we all know that change is a constant factor that can't be opposed. And what's more, if they have absolute control, they will force everything to stagnate and become part of the… the nightmarish world they envision! It's as if they don't care about our emotions and feelings and just want to act according to their cold logic, as if they want us to remain trapped forever in an eternal stagnation!"

Gunthilde took a deep breath, calming herself.

"I'm sorry, husband. I… I don't usually-"

"It's alright, Gunthilde," Said Tolcariath, "I know."

And husband hugged wife.

"Can we do anything about them?" Asked Gunthilde.

"There's… not much we can do about them for now," Said Tolcariath, "But look at the bright side; the Gods of Law cannot turn their attention to us with Chaos in the picture, and there are only two Gods we have to contend with. The Third One is asleep somewhere, though I cannot pinpoint her location."

"But we don't have anything to fear?" Asked Gunthilde.

"Not exactly, but we don't have to worry about them for the time being," Said Tolcariath, "If anything, they will have the hardest fight of their lives."

IIOII

​

It was now the year 2065 IC, and it was now time to bring Sylvania under Imperial rule once again.

Assembled at the head of the Prussian Legions was Tolcariath and Gunthilde, and the Phantom Fangs' newest general Oarad Grumblemark. A former conservative Dwarven Runelord, he was taken in for his talent and non-interference policy regarding the Radicals.

"So, we're finally getting rid of these damned Vampires…" Said Oarad, "Those Wazzocks have been a thorn in our side for far too long."

"All our preparations were made for this day…" Said Gunthilde, "About damned time, too."

The newly formed Imperial Legions were a monumental improvement over the Imperial State Armies of old; no longer were the Imperials divided by different uniforms of state and origin, they were a united, cohesive force that marched with the synchroneity and uniformity of well-oiled machines.

Their armour, vastly improved through new forging techniques and designs and the power of industrial mass-production, made them look like an army of steel statues, and their empowerment by the hands of Wizards and Warrior-Priests gave them a huge advantage over supernatural threats. Their weapons too, forged by the Sumar-Ethris – the Jewel-Smiths – comparable to those made by Elves and dwarves.

The Handgunners – now known as Grenadiers – marched proudly with their new armaments, their Mauser Rifles and hand grenades a huge step up from the flintlocks they used in the past. The mightiest Knights of the Empire, the Ula-Emdumiel (Sons of the Empire), stood menacingly at the vanguard, their imposing aura crushing the guts of lesser men by presence alone.

And dispersed within the Legions were the latest weapons developed by Prussian Engineers; Steam Tanks, great lumbering monstrosities capable of withstanding heavy punishment and acting as heavy shields for the infantry – the brainchild of Leonardo da Miragilano; Howitzers, artillery cannons far more accurate at longer distances with the size and shell power to match, capable of blowing up entire armies a mile away; new mortars, also made more accurate with specially-shaped shells for maximum damage.

Led by their own monarchs – respected and talented generals – the Prussian Legions were akin to an army of Demon Gods.

"The Undead don't seem to be assuming any sort of formation though," Said Oarad, sounding disappointed, "Is their leader an imbecile?"

"He is, as far as anyone is concerned," Said Tolcariath, "He's simple-minded and easily taken in – just the kind of man to easily fall prey to deception tactics."

"But the strength of his army is far greater than we anticipated," Said Gunthilde, "And he has many strong Vampires in his service; taking his head is no easy task."

"If it's brute force he wants, it's brute force he will get," Said Oarad.

"Well then, take your positions, people," Said Tolcariath, "After this battle, we'll celebrate all night long."

"Aye!" Said Gunthilde and Oarad smilingly.

From a distance, Konrad Von Carstein felt nervous for the first time in his life, his hand shaking with cold sweat.

"Hahaha… fear… it's such an alien concept," Said Konrad, "Surely there is no one who can challenge a Von Carstein's might like this? And yet…"

"My Lord, we need not fear those new-fangled machines or the might of their armies," Said a necromancer to his left, "Our forces are bolstered by every foe we slay, and the Greenskins have made a most generous donation."

Indeed, the Greenskin horde met its end at the hands of the Von Carsteins, Konrad himself killing their Warboss, and through a few months of breeding Greenskins to kill and reanimate, they had already replenished their numbers to levels not seen since the time of Vlad von Carstein.

"Indeed, we remain strong and unbent, despite having been delayed and annoyed by the Greenskins," Said Konrad smilingly, "And it seems… the Empire – Prussia – is truly worth devouring."

Konrad had felt an excitement boiling in his veins the moment he laid eyes on the invading Legions, and his mind instantly swirled with thoughts on how he would carve his name as one of the greatest Von Carstein Vampires in history.

That weakling Vlad… he did not have what it takes to be a Vampire; he always espoused ideas about 'ruling the land impartially and fairly', taking care of cattle and even wasting time building Sylvania into a rich nation, Thought Konrad, We are Von Carsteins! We are Vampires, the strongest and most perfect beings in the whole world! We do not need to lower ourselves to the level of inferiors! Our strength is all we need to carve our legacies in the whole world!

Raising his sword to the heavens, he shouted to his fellow Vampires and Necromancers, "Soldiers of Sylvania! This day, we drink deeply of their blood in this magnificent feast! Drink deeply until you can drink no more, and gorge yourselves on their flesh! Show them the might of the Von Carsteins!"

The Undead moaned loudly like a choir of ghosts, his fellow Von Carsteins and necromancers all roaring bloodthirsty oaths and cheers.

"All troops…" He began.

"Charge!"

"Cha-!?"

Konrad was enraged at the fact the Prussian Legions pulled a fast one on him, and he hastily ordered his own Legions to counter the Prussians' charge.

But it was for naught.

Thunderous explosions rang out from the Prussian ranks, followed by thunder and fire descending on the Undead ranks; flesh and bone were blasted to smithereens, charred and burnt to ash as fire washed over them like a tsunami.

Spells of all manner washed over the Undead tide, and the effects varied from thorny vines strangling necromancers and beasts to orbs and bolts piercing their Vargheists and taking them out of the sky.

Konrad grit his teeth in rage.

"You cowards, relying on your machines to do your work for you!"

Tolcariath merely turned to Oarad.

I'm counting on you, Thought Tolcariath, popping a vein.

Leave it to me! Thought Oarad back, doing the same.

Oarad's forces charged closer towards the Undead ranks, roaring oaths and yelling at the top of their voices as they closed the distance.

And Oarad's army was the first to punch through, carving a deep gouge in the enemy ranks and pushing deeply as artillery supported their advance. Grenadiers both mounted and on foot claimed many Undead and necromancers with their Mauser rifles and grenades – a complete lack of need to aim with how close and bundled up their enemies were.

Already, tens of thousands of Undead alone were claimed in a single clash, and even as the Undead continued to swarm towards the Prussians with their near-limitless numbers, Konrad saw his aerial forces being picked off from the sky, dropping like flies.

There's no good news at all, Thought Konrad, My forces are now being the ones annihilated and their machines are culling our numerical superiority.

He saw the Prussians carving ever deeper through his army's ranks, displaying an unnatural strength he was unused to seeing in Humans. Whatever magic his necromancers and fellow Von Carsteins used was either dispelled or repelled and countered with spells from the Prussians – like brute force cleaving apart his own army's magic.

And it seems… they have the absolute advantage as well, Thought Konrad, Here I thought I'd carve my name into history as the strongest Vampire to ever live, and instead I'll be remembered as a buffoon.

And Konrad gripped his swords tightly, cursing loudly as he charged towards the centre of the formation, where Tolcariath rode out to meet him.

"Like hell I will accept this!" Konrad roared, brandishing his sword.

He looked up, and suddenly felt like a small ant beneath Tolcariath's massive presence.

And in one strike, he was cloven in half at the waist, and his body was burned by a bright flame into ash that scattered to the Eight Winds, never again to be restored.

Almost immediately, his death was felt among the Undead ranks, hundreds upon hundreds of Undead crumbling to pieces without the magic to sustain them, and the dark clouds overhead became ever so dimmer and thinner.

The other Vampires tried beating a retreat, but they found their own path of retreat cut off by detachments that surrounded their flanks on all sides. Desperate to stay alive, they fought like daemons possessed.

But the Von Carstein Daemons were no match for the Prussian Daemons.

Surrounded with no way out, no Vampire or Necromancer was spared, and with liberal use of fire, all the reanimated corpses were cremated to ash.

"Sound the horn of victory!"

And all the men cheered this momentous day.

The Von Carsteins of Sylvania were gone for good; Necromancers scattered throughout the Empire refused to surrender, reanimating corpses and fighting back to their deaths, and the few Vampires that remained retreated west towards Wallachia to seek sanctuary with Dracul.

But a few deposits of Warpstone remained in Sylvania, and without them gone the people would continue to suffer from mutation and taint.

Hence, at the spot where Castle Drakenhof once stood, Tolcariath planted a new tree – a sapling from the Oak of Ages – and together with Gunthilde and all the priests of the Prussian Pantheon and other cults, they blessed it with divine power.

Instantly, that sapling grew into a titanic-sized tree, its bark an obsidian black, its leaves a canopy of purest white snow. The Warpstone that plagued the land was consumed by its roots, consumed and purified into energy that fed the tree's growth until all of it was gone.

The White-leafed tree towered above even the tallest of hills like a mountain shouldering the heavens, its light shining in the darkest of nights. All who dwelt beneath its leaves felt an unnatural calm settle in their hearts, their wounds and ailments a thing of the past, old age irrelevant in the face of sudden vigour.

"It's beautiful…"

Arch-Lector Arnfried Schrempf looked upon the tree with awe, the young man looking like a little boy.

"Truly, Sigmar has blessed us all, as have you and the other Gods," He said to Tolcariath, "And thanks to you, the Empire is truly reunited once and for all."

"Aye, but it's too soon to celebrate," Said Gunthilde, "Honestly, the Sylvanians are very distrustful of us; centuries of living under the Von Draks and the Von Carsteins have made them believe things were better under the Vampires' rule."

"I thought they'd hate the Vampires with what Konrad and his lackeys did," Said Oarad.

"According to them, Vlad Von Carstein was the greatest ruler Sylvania was ever graced with," Said Tolcariath, "Under his rule, the Von Draks and their lackeys were ended, and for a time Sylvania was the richest province in the entire Empire."

"…And to them, we are the unwanted conquerors," Said Oarad.

"Partly," Said Tolcariath, "They will be thankful for us removing Konrad and his lackeys, though the next half of the battle will be waged on the political and economical front."

"All too true," Said Gunthilde.

"So, what shall we name the Tree?" Asked Arnfried, "Surely it is deserving of a name for its miraculous feats?"

"It is a Ma'eon, a Life Tree," Said Tolcariath, "And this tree shall be named Amandil the Defiant."

IIOII

​

It was the year 2068 IC, and many political developments had taken place.

With the Von Carsteins gone, Sylvania was folded into the rule of Stirland along with the Moot, eliminating the political independence of the Halfling Families and putting them under the iron rule of an Elector Count – and by extension of the Prussian monarchy.

Many Halfling Elders violently resisted this move, some even raising armies in open revolt while others plotted assassinations. Only one of them, Nathandar Shortcrust, obeyed Imperial directives and killed every last single Elder who plotted rebellion, ending their rule and placing all Halflings under his sole dictatorship as the new Elector Count of Stirland.

With the disappearance of the Warpstone, Amandil the Defiant would impart its life-giving presence upon all the lands of old Sylvania, and the lands would become bountiful; crops grew to thick bushels and cattle were hardy and plentiful, such that its farmers would regularly bathe in strawberries and cream.

Perhaps the only complaint was from the lawn mowers, who had to regularly scythe grass with increasing frequency.

Three years were spent rebuilding the province of Sylvania, renovating its infrastructure and repopulating it with fresh migrants from other provinces and from faraway Ulthuan and Abyssinia – a nation in the Southlands.

It was part of a plan to slowly integrate the Sylvanian people back into the Prussian fold and influence their culture and mindset, a plan that was proving fruitful.

Plans were made to crush the Vampire Zacharias in the Forest of Shadow, but reports indicated signs of a fierce battle within, and the remains of Zaharias found in an ash pile – ash that will never again reanimate.

And with the Trident Line of Ostermark complete – a set of three mountain Hold-Fortresses in three artificially raised mountains – on the province's northeastern border, its security had increased leaps and bounds.

Allowing the Ostermarkian 4th​ Legion to handle Mordheim once and for all.

"I have to admit, it's taken us over two decades to take care of this problem, ever since His Majesty took power."

Countess Adelgunde Wiedemann stared at the ruined city of Mordheim – long a symbol of hubris and disgrace for Ostermark.

"Finally, we're cleaning out that rat-infested shithole for good," She said, "Took a damn long time, if you ask me."

"It couldn't be helped, Your Ladyship," Said General Volkbert Stricker, "Much of that time was spent politically unifying Ostermark and building the infrastructure to secure the rest of the province."

"As if anyone could forget that," Said Adelgunde, "In any case, will that new weapon work?"

They dragged a huge monstrosity of a machine – called the Nestkiller – through the ranks of the 4th​ Legion, brimming with magical power. A lump of steel and other intricate magical enchantments, the machine was a highly experimental weapon developed by Prussian Wizards and Engineers as the answer to Skaven-infested cities like Mordheim, designed to purify any and all Warpstone to dust and cleanse all Skaven in waves of fire.

By no means were they assured of its absolute success, but it was worth a try.

"Your Ladyship, the Skaven approach!"

Waves upon waves of chittering Skaven rapidly approached the Prussian Legions, Rat Ogres and Warpstone cannons and Grey Seers accompanying them.

"No time like the present… ready for battle!"

At Adelgunde's command, the artillery commenced firing the first salvo, crushing hordes of Skaven slaves and cannon fodder and dozens of Rat Ogres to dust.

The Battle for Mordheim had begun.

IIOII

​

It was not an easy thing, Dracul found, obtaining the souls of the Vampire bloodline progenitors.

Ushoran of the Strigoi, Neferata of the Lahmians, Vashanesh of the Von Carsteins, Abhorash of the Blood Dragons, and W'soran of the Necrarch.

All five souls were now in his grasp, mercilessly hunted down by his own hand. With their souls in his grasp, he would gain complete and utter control of all Vampires in his hand, freeing them of influence from Nagash and granting him far greater power than before.

"Finally… one more step to attaining the pinnacle," Said Dracul.

All five souls were consumed, and instantly Dracul began to feel a fundamental change within his soul.

He felt a connection to each and every Vampire in the entire world, a connection that allowed him to peer deeply into their souls. He could see their every thought, their motives, their grudges and hatreds, everything that motivated their every action.

And he smiled at this.

"Men have always feared the Vampires because of how uncontrolled they were in their rampages and quests for power," Said Dracul, "Like nations, they must be ruled and controlled by an iron fist."

Yet even as he relished the feeling of power in his veins, he instantly felt a foreboding presence nearing his dimension.

And it was not just Chaos coming for him.

"Alluminas… so he really wants to put us down for good?" Dracul wondered, "And it seems the other Chaos Gods want a piece of the action as well."

He grit his teeth, instantly feeling an entire army of Daemons invading his home dimension.

"Chances are that Prussia will take a brutal blow as well," Said Dracul, "They won't accept anyone who so challenges the world's status quo, after all."

He then sighed heavily.

"We can't weather this storm alone, but neither can we just keep our distance," Said Dracul.

In his palace, he then said, "Summon Agatha for me."

Agatha Lormoy, formerly a vagrant Necromancer from the province of Couronne, knelt before Dracul as she answered his summons. Dressed impeccably in the new Wallachian dress uniform, the blood red and black colours complemented each other nicely, and her tailored outfit gave her an elegant appearance.

"You must immediately go to the Empire of Prussia, Agatha, and quickly," Said Dracul, "Time is of the essence."

"I understand, My Lord, but may I ask why?" Said Agatha.

"Because if my instincts are correct, before long both Prussia and Wallachia will be heavily invaded by massive armies," Said Dracul, "And though Bretonnia of old and the Empire were always traditional on-and-off enemies, now's the time to forge a new alliance between new Empires to weather the times ahead. And perhaps, if possible, gain their help against this oncoming threat."

"Chaos, My Lord?" Asked Agatha.

"That, and more," Said Dracul, "Understand that time is of the essence."

"As you command," Said Agatha, "I shall take my leave."

Dracul looked to the skies, and immediately he felt eyes peering upon him. His powers easily obscured many meaningful details from those prying eyes, but he felt the hunger behind them – the hatred for him.

"Seems the world's only getting more and more heated up," Said Dracul.

A/N: The longest Omake I've ever done so far. Hope you guys enjoy.

 

[Whenyouseeyou]

Huh I thought Dracul would save Vlad because he's important to showing that vampires and humans can coexist somewhat like the blood banks where the humans would drop some blood there then the vampire would drink from it @Ebanu8 also I think chaos would fear Dracul more because he's becoming more advance then he already is

 

[RandomDwarf]

Huh I thought Dracul would save Vlad because he's important to showing that vampires and humans can coexist somewhat like the blood banks where the humans would drop some blood there then the vampire would drink from it @Ebanu8 also I think chaos would fear Dracul more because he's becoming more advance then he already is

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i really dont think Vlad is his own seperate entity anymore, this is full on AU from the main quest. Frankly speaking i have the personal theory that dracul and Vlad were already one entity...as in Dracul/Alexander Von Castien were a reincarnation.

add that in and frankly Dracul has already 1 of the partiarchs of the vampire lines already. otherwise the moderates in slyvania should have been able to escape in that AU questline.

 

[Ebanu8]

Huh I thought Dracul would save Vlad because he's important to showing that vampires and humans can coexist somewhat like the blood banks where the humans would drop some blood there then the vampire would drink from it @Ebanu8 also I think chaos would fear Dracul more because he's becoming more advance then he already is

Click to shrink...

i really dont think Vlad is his own seperate entity anymore, this is full on AU from the main quest. Frankly speaking i have the personal theory that dracul and Vlad were already one entity...as in Dracul/Alexander Von Castien were a reincarnation.

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Well, by this time in the canon quest timeline, I think Vlad's already gone, taken care of by the Imperials, so there's no Vlad to save for Dracul. And to be frank, I'm not sure if Dracul/Alexander can count as a reincarnation so soon after his death; keep in mind it happened in 2050 IC, and we began the quest in 2051 IC.

As for Vlad's soul, it's true that saving him would have benefits, but I think Dracul's the exact kind of person to want to control an entire Vampire lineage. Hence, I think it makes more sense if he consumed Vlad's (aka Vashanesh's) soul.

 

[Ancient One]

Omake: The Lost and Found

Maxwell, or just Max as he preferred to be called, was quite happy at the moment. Things had been looking up for him and others of his bloodline for some time now. In fact you could say that it had been a full reversal of their previous fortunes. They finally had a home where they could be safe. They had a lord who trusted and cared for them. There was no need for them to fear and hide as they had before. There were no hunters of any kind after them. At long last the Strigoi finally had a turn of luck.

He felt a broad smile spread across his face as he thought. It was a huge fang filled thing that was a bit too wide to be on a human face. Yes things had really taken a turn for the better for them. Being able to walk the streets in the open was a gift in it's own right. No longer having to feed off of corpses and dead meat was wonderful. They no longed needed to hide as they did before and their needs were sated by the blood tax or willing donors. The greatest gift however was the return of their sanity.

People, including their fellow vampires, often believed that the Strigoi were little more than feral beasts. Creatures that were dependent on their brute strength and monstrous forms to survive. That they were merely grave robbers with no higher intelligence. That was only partially true however. The cause for their kind's mental deterioration was through no defect of their's. It was a result of the life style they were forced to live that made them mad over time.

Vampires were creatures meant to feed on the fresh blood of mortals. Preferably straight from the source which is why they had fangs. They were not meant to feed off stale decaying blood from corpses long dead. Any one who bothered to reason it out could tell you that. All vampires needed and craved fresh blood. Going without it for too long drove them into a frenzy of hunger and destroyed their sense of reason. The Strigoi's state was a result of these conditions combined with their own abilities. Their bloodline possessed great physical power and control over ghouls and the like. That was not all there was however. The true power of the bloodline was to shapeshift. The ability to take on bestial features such as great claws and fangs. To shift from bipedal to quadruped with ease as needed. Even growing extra limbs such as wings and tails were within their ability. These were all controlled by their instincts and desires at the time.

This was why they always turned out to be so monstrous. Their diet of dead blood and rotten flesh had been screwing with their minds. The constant fear and paranoia hadn't helped either. While they were feeding technically, which kept them from going into the usual frenzy, it still caused their mental state to deteriorate. This in turn caused their blood gifts to spiral out of control. Their forms shifting and becoming more monstrous as a reflection of their degrading sanity. They weren't even the only example of this kind of thing. The Vargheists used by the Vampire Counts were an example. They were originally vampires who were sealed away in catacombs and starved of blood. This starvation combined with ambient dark magic and warp stone contamination caused explosive mutation in them. Which made them into the winged horrors they are now.

It could all be traced back to the days of ancient Nehekera. Specifically to that rotten bitch Neferata. Their progenitor Ushoran had been denied the Elixir of Immortality by the arrogant queen. This had been done out of petty pride on her part a need to feel superior. She had failed of course and Ushoran became a vampire anyway. This incensed the wretch as she viewed it as a personal insult. When the others fled he built a great kingdom to the north. Ushoran ruled well and wisely becoming beloved by his subjects and his children. Neferata seeing this became further incensed at the notion that he had surpassed her, which he had.

So the hag had schemed a way to bring about his downfall. When Ushoran reached out to his fellows she poisoned their minds against him. Armies were sent to destroy the new kingdom and under the onslaught as well as the attack by the greenskins it fell. The children of Ushoran were hunted by their cousins and mortals alike. Forcing them to hide away and reduced them to raiding graveyards to survive. If such as state could truly be called living. Which brought about the status quo that led to their deplorable state over the years. Until now that is.

Dracul had set things right for them. Given them a safe haven in the empire of Wallachia. It was this act that earned the god the title Father of the Night. Under his supervision those who could still reason herded their less stable kin into the new realm. Here they fed on fresh blood and slowly returned to themselves. The clouds that covered their minds receded and their forms changed. Regaining the human form that had been lost to them before. Finally being able to truly control their blood gifts after all this time.

For this the vampires of the bloodline of Ushoran had dedicated themselves to the service of their new lord. Acting in his name and offering prayer to him. In fact Max was doing that very thing right now. He was well aware of the current state of events. Their god was busy defending their lands from the Sea of Souls. His mortal servants marched to meet the blood tide in battle in the frozen land of Kislev. That left those who remained in Wallachia to tend to the homefront. Namely ensuring no problems cropped up in these lands.

He was currently hunting a band of cultists. These worshippers of the blood god had come to meet out here in the dark of the night. Max grinned again as he stalked towards them. It was true he thought that chaos followers are truly lacking in intelligence. His senses picked up voices ahead of him. He grinned hungrily it was time to kill and feed in Dracul's name. What better way to spite Chaos than by drinking the blood their gods so craved.

He called on the beast that lay within all vampires. He almost groaned at the feeling of the controlled transformation. Nails sharpened and grew into talons akin to daggers on great paw like hands. His face shifted into a great muzzle filled with blade like teeth. Ears shifted and became bat like. He shot up in height gaining several feet his skin darkening and taking on an armored appearance. Powerful muscle like steel cable shifted under the armor like skin. A long tail with razor spikes erupted from his lower back. Vast pitch black wings erupted from his shoulder blades with a sickening crack. An extra pair of arms erupted from the sides of his torso. A long bestial tongue licked over pale fangs as the transformation finished. He was ready to slaughter these fools.

He stalked forward with hungry anticipation. His foot steps silenced by years of practice and pads on his feet. His tail flicked behind him with eagerness. The cultists came within visual range. He lunged forward claws extended and ready.

Not a minute later horrific screaming of fear and pain filled the air. Accompanying it came a bass like laugh mixed with bestial growling. The sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone filled the woods. Another minute later all was silent save for a gulping sound.

@Alucard Vampiry
I will put this on any war roll that needs it.

 

[AlphaOmega]

Allowing the Ostermarkian 4th Legion

Click to shrink...

ranks of the 8th Legion

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The legions designation changes

Nefarata of the Lahmians

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It's Neferata

and W'soran of the Necharach

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It's Necrarch

As always great job! Also I just realised that Lahmian Vampires are named after Lamia a monster from Greek Mythology that would devour young men and children by luring them with her great beauty.

 

[Ebanu8]

As always great job! Also I just realised that Lahmian Vampires are named after Lamia a monster from Greek Mythology that would devour young men and children by luring them with her great beauty.

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Thanks for the pointers, fixed the mistakes. And yes, the name definitely fits them, considering what they do for a living.

 

[Ancient One]

@Alucard Vampiry

What is the word requirement for omakes again?

 

[Alucard Vampiry]

@Alucard Vampiry

What is the word requirement for omakes again?

Click to shrink...

500 words at minimum.

 

[Whenyouseeyou]

500 words at minimum.

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Hey there more omakes @Alucard Vampiry

 

[Alucard Vampiry]

*SNIP*

Click to shrink...

+10 to a action of your choosing.

 

[Ancient One]

Omake: The Enforcer

Agatha hummed to herself as she looked over her latest experiment. She had been making progress, but it was slow. The workings of it were complex and required a careful twist on common necromancy. It required an extensive knowledge of biology to be workable. Fortunately she had all of those things at her disposal. She did make a mental note to make sure to streamline the process.

Her current project was to find a way to create a command strain of undead. The idea had come to her when she pondered the current state of affairs. The mortal necromancers were only capable of commanding a small part of the dark army. This didn't even factor in the need to apply various boosts, counter magic, and resurrection. The necromancers without the support of Dracul and the various vampires were at a major disadvantage. They were only mortal after all and were much more limited in power. On the battlefield against probable daemonic forces they were in serious danger.

Which tied into the whole problem at the moment and the biggest weakness of the dark army. Their dependency on their leaders and the steady flow of magic to animate them. Under normal circumstances this wouldn't be an issue. They were all connected to a literal god with great multi tasking ability. However with the assault from the Sea of Souls Dracul was occupied defending their realm. The various dragons and vampires in his service could not go for political reasons. This left things to the comparatively limited power and mental abilities of the necromancers.

Hence why she was working on this project. Her current efforts were to create a capable command strain of undead for use in the dark army. The purpose of it was to provide low end necromantic energy and commands to the lesser undead. This was meant to lighten the burden on the necromancers by letting the new strain command the lesser hordes. This would allow the necromancers to focus their energy on fewer workings while still controlling the army. The problem was actually making the idea fully functional.

The current project had been inspired by the patchwork men of Sylvania. These creations were stitched together from pieces of multiple corpses and then reanimated. They unlike most undead retained a semblance of self due to the use of well-preserved brains in their creation. This process however had the issue of the creature going rampant and killing its creator. However if the creature could be controlled it could be used to command other lesser Undead in it's maker's absence. Naturally she wanted the latter without the former. Of course her pride dictated that she make it better as well.

Made to resemble a human, if an uncannily large one, the Enforcer was meant to be a powerful combatant on top of its other purpose. Leaders would use it to relay commands to other forces before having it unleash it's immense physical power. This strength and significant physical resilience was due to being made out of mostly bone and muscle which created a biological armor. It had actually taken three corpses all together melded carefully to create through careful application of magic. She had never seen the point of leaving in organs. They were no longer functional anyway. Why not use that material for something else. In this case creating strong bone armor and greater amounts of thick muscle. The brain was designed to be capable of basic planning, responding to commands, and basic combat skills. There was no actual sense of self of course. It existed solely to be of service. Beneath the muscle and bone where a heart would be sat an amethyst crystal that gleamed with dark magic.

The name came from it's role in the army. It would use it's great physical power to crush enemies at the command of its masters. At the same time it would project commands to lesser undead in battle. A physical powerhouse that could easily overwhelm most orks or ogres while bolstering their forces. She had to take care to ensure it would not rot as well. The right bit of spell work had covered that.

Glancing over her work she found everything to be as she desired. Now to reanimate it and test it. She gave orders to the black knights watching to be on guard just in case. She reached out with her magic. Slowly her creation twitched and began to rise. It stood to its full height of ten feet. Shoulders reaching wide and feet thudding against the ground. It stood there silently for a moment. Waiting for her commands just as desired. A broad smile spread across her lips.

@Alucard Vampiry
This goes on the war rolls as needed.

 

[Ebanu8]

+10 to a action of your choosing.

Click to shrink...

This will go to war rolls as well.

 

[Ebanu8]

A/N: Figured I should continue this series.

The Dragon's Mate, Part II

​

Qielnaeth was never more terrified her entire life when entering the palace of Mousilion.

The place was lavishly decorated and furnished, built by meticulous and scrupulous hands that ensured its structural durability for centuries. Silk curtains nicely decorated glass windows transparent as water, giving a clear and unobstructed view of the landscape from her high place in the palace.

Though where there would be clear blue skies with a brightly shining sun, there was instead a dark sky blackened by thick clouds akin to smog, creating the perfect nocturnal habitat for Vampires.

A servant poured tea for her and Dracul, the porcelain of local Mousilioni make – the technique obtained from passing Cathayan craftsmen.

"I hope you find the tea to your liking," Said Dracul.

Qienlaeth took a slow sip of the piping hot tea, and instantly she tasted its bittersweet flavour and its light fragrance. It was certainly not like some teas she enjoyed in her home of Athel Loren, but it was quite delectable.

"So tell me, what are you doing so far from home?" Asked Dracul, "From what I know of Asrai, they are very reclusive and tend to confine themselves to their forests."

Qielnaeth said, "I… ran away from home."

"Oh?" Asked Dracul.

"I… don't want to say anymore on this," Said Qielnaeth, "Please."

"Very well," Said Dracul, "So can I ask what are your plans now?"

"…I don't know," Said Qielnaeth.

"So you just ran on impulse, is it?" Asked Dracul.

Qielnaeth merely sighed, saying, "Laugh at me if you will; that's precisely what I did, and if I return now I will completely lose face."

"Whoever said I'm laughing at you?" Said Dracul.

"But others certainly will, especially some imbeciles I know of back home," Said Qielnaeth.

"Then all you need to do is make a name for yourself," Said Dracul, "It can be here, if you wish, or you could go to other nations instead and make a name as a mercenary."

"A mercenary?" Asked Qielnaeth, "Like, a soldier that plies his services for money alone?"

"Aye, and in this way, you can begin to obtain prestige that overshadows those who doubted you," Said Dracul, "Though to be frank, I don't think that's what you're after, either."

"No, it's not; I'd make a horrible mercenary, frankly," Said Qielnaeth, "And furthermore, I don't know where to go, either."

"Then tell you what," Said Dracul, "You can choose to stay here for the time being."

"You're just offering me shelter like that?" Asked Qielnaeth.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not doing this out of the kindness of my heart," Said Dracul, "What I'm saying is that if you wish to stay, I can offer you shelter and food, but in exchange you have to work for me in court."

After all, there was no true free lunch in this world – only a lunch paid for by others.

Qielnaeth said, "Well, I can't go back, and there's no guarantee anywhere else will take me in. Very well, I accept your offer."

Dracul smiled, saying, "Then I hope you enjoy your stay here. Tomorrow will be your first day of work."

"Thank you, Emperor Dracul," Said Qielnaeth.

IIOII

​

The first few months of Qielnaeth's new career in the Wallachian Imperial Court were perhaps both underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time.

In Athel Loren, Qielnaeth was used to masks worn upon masks in the courts of the Fey Court, words spoken in riddles and piles of indirect lines designed to avoid detection of their true meaning.

In Wallachia, however, blunt honesty was the name of the game; instead of using indirect words to try and bring across a hidden meaning, the intended meaning was given straight in the face, and the masks worn were far more honest than what she was used to.

Such bluntness had thrown her off her game, and given that she was used to it for an entire century, it took her some time to adjust.

And though she expected it with Dracul being a Vampire himself, she still could not accustom herself to the presence of hundreds of Vampires and Necromancers, chatting amicably on matters both important and mundane, or that of the tens of thousands Dragons circling around the Mousilion Imperial Palace.

Athel Loren had Forest Dragons, but she never beheld any Dragons of other flocks and breeds before, and certainly not so many – a few hundred thousand – in any one place.

If one were to ask her if it was too overwhelming, she would answer: "Yes, at first."

Qielnaeth yawned as she signed the last document for today, stretching her neck and arms stiff from hours of monotonous writing.

"At least I have something to do," She said, "Hardly a boring job."

She sighed as she got up, exiting her room to take a walk in the gardens outside.

For a garden cultivated under a nocturnal sky, the greenery thrived well with the use of magical lamps emitting artificial light, shining brightly like miniature suns. Meticulously manicured bushes blossomed with colourful, fragrant flowers, and the grass itself trimmed to resemble a smooth green blanket.

Were she a more traditional Asrai, she would frown at this artificial representation of nature, but to her, it was the closest she would get to nature before going outside the palace.

"It's a good night, isn't it?"

Qienaeth turned to face Dracul as he approached, and she bowed to him.

"Your Majesty," She said.

"At ease, Qielnaeth," Said Dracul, "Mind walking with me for a while?"

"Of course," Said Qielnaeth.

The architecture of Mousilion City was perhaps the greatest thing to behold, based heavily off ancient Tilean architecture with its signature arches, columns and domes but also coupled with the Gothic architecture of the Southern Empire, tall pointed arches and flying buttresses giving an air of bloated majesty and imposing stature.

It was alien to her, but now it also imparted a feeling of familiarity on her as she walked its corridors.

"So how do you find your stay here?" Asked Dracul.

"A little… rough, at first," Qielnaeth admitted, "I still haven't really adapted to my new home just yet."

"I suppose it's still a challenge, adapting to a land overcast with darkness and a far cry from your bountiful forests of Athel Loren," Said Dracul, "But tell me, what do you think of your kind's relationship with the Forest Spirits?"

"…Honestly, I think of it as a business arrangement," Said Qielnaeth, "It's like they're not an enemy, but neither an ally."

"Truly?" Said Dracul, "But in my case, they have proven to be nothing more than a nuisance."

"A nuisance?" Asked Qielnaeth.

"They were abducting, mutilating and murdering innocent people in Quenelles for centuries unhindered, and causing quite a lot of problems for security as well," Said Dracul, "If you ask me, I'd say good riddance to them; no more Forest Spirits means no more abductions."

"What!? But… you can't just destroy them like that!" Qielnaeth exclaimed, "The forest will be angry for this!"

"And I've yet to see them act," Said Dracul, "It's because there's a pressing threat at their backs, yes?"

"I-How did you know?" Asked Qielnaeth.

"The fact they did not act out of anger against me means they have more pressing matters at home," Said Dracul, "As one who holds the most powerful army on their border, they'd have to draw a huge majority of their strength from their home to fight me on my homeland, leaving their rear vulnerable. Am I wrong?"

"…No, you're not," Said Qielnaeth, "An entire glade of our forest is dedicated to housing feral, corrupted Forest Spirits who hate us with every fibre of their being, and who would gladly slaughter us if they break free."

"Then why didn't you simply put them out of their misery?" Asked Dracul, "If you did, you wouldn't have to waste centuries guarding their prison and risking them breaking out one day."

"…It is by the order of Queen Ariel," Said Qielnaeth.

Dracul sighed in exasperation.

"Then clearly, she's only let you keep a threat that will bite you back," Said Dracul, "And frankly, if a ruler lets such threats fester in their own heartland, then he's not worthy of his throne."

"You're saying Queen Ariel is unfit to rule over Athel Loren?" Asked Qielnaeth.

"Frankly, yes," Said Dracul, "She may be merciful to them, but there are limits to how merciful one can be before he regrets it."

Qielnaeth found it hard to refute his words.

 

[RandomDwarf]

This brings up a good point, god-damnit Ariel...theres a point of where corruption of chaos, ruin, and destruction is just better off cutting the sickly branch off and saving the tree, instead of trying to cure it.

theres a reason why if Arthel Loren tries any of its shit is to unleash the fire dragons and the lighting dragons to do fly-bys and cull it back.

 

[Ebanu8]

This brings up a good point, god-damnit Ariel...theres a point of where corruption of chaos, ruin, and destruction is just better off cutting the sickly branch off and saving the tree, instead of trying to cure it.

Click to shrink...

I find it a real motivation for when one embraces fire. I mean, that's also why in my Quest, Tolcariath ended up embracing being a fire that burns away old stagnation. A 'dead mountain' full of dead trees, so to speak. Nothing ever remains the same forever, especially not in Mother Nature herself.

 

[Ancient One]

Omake: The Schemer

A terrible sound echoed out across an unimaginably vast yet infinitesimally small place. It echoed far and wide in defiance of all physics. It was a horrific sound making creatures mad and causing flesh to twist into something vile. Indescribable monstrosities hid and cowered at the sound of it. Hiding from the attention of something far worse than themselves. Deep within the center of this impossible place was its source.

Within the center of this impossible realm sat a vast shifting multidimensional crystal maze. Crystal that defied conventional logic made up much. Prismatic fire that burned without fuel made up other parts. Snippets of conversations in forgotten and nonexistent languages formed a confounding cacophony. Colors that did not exist in nature shone off monuments of impossible shapes and dimensions. Twisting and shifting into configurations that were mathematically impossible. Rooms varied wildly in size seeming to shift when no one was looking. Corridors changed position and length disappearing with new ones appearing at random. Illusions indistinguishable from reality faded in and out of existence changing locations. Tomes of flayed skin whispered of glory and power to those who sought it out. In the center of this impossible mad place sat it's master.

Tzeentch laughed with nine hundred ninety-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine voices. Each came from it's own throat and was unique from the others. It was an awful cackling sound that melted the minds of mortals and lesser gods. It's daemonic servants dashed, flew, and slithered away in fright. Their master's joy was rarely a good sign. They did not wish to gain it's attention if they could avoid it. At the same time they reached out to sabotage their rivals in the hope it would doom them. Their master paid them no heed however.

The Changer was quite pleased/ saddened/ annoyed at the moment. It's investment in the little dragon god had paid off nicely. So much change was flowing into the realm of chaos. Everything was moving and shifting now. Countless plans and schemes had crumbled and new ones were made in their place. Nothing was certain anymore and the Architect of Fate reveled in it. It especially took satisfaction/despair/anger in it's rivals rage at the breaking of the status quo.

Dracul had been doing wonderfully in the mortal realm. His swift destruction of the rot tide had been amusing. The annihilation of the old stagnant order of Bretonnia had been wonderful. The following after shocks across the globe had been a delightful treat. Yes, the Changer was most pleased/ amused/ saddened/ angered by its new pet project.

Tzeentch was especially pleased by the humiliation and defeat of that elven brat. Honestly did that little harlot really think she could out scheme it. It WAS scheme personified it was impossible to do so. It had almost been as humorous as it was insulting. Her gall to try to claim one of it's domains was also annoying/ amusing. The changer was all too happy to watch her plans fall apart. Still it made a mental note to maybe send an attack on that precious island of hers potentially within a decade or maybe a century. That should teach her and even if it didn't it would still be amusing.

The Master of Mutation noted that the dragon had sent his servants to Kislev. A conniving/ false/ pleasant/ sincere grin may have stretched across one of it's faces. Those stupid blood soaked brutes were attempting to summon a greater daemon of the war god to their realm. The undead were marching to prevent such from happening. Well it had no love for the berserker or it's followers. Dracul had also been so kind to provide such a feast. Why not give him a reward for it? A twist here, a thread pulled like this, and a nudge there to move things along. It would not hand him a victory, but it would make the results if he won all the more explosive.

The echoing laughter started up again. If Khorne took issue with it the Changer already had plans in place. So the great game of things moved on. All just as planned.

@Alucard Vampiry

I will put this on the ritual if we get to it. If not use it for whatever needs a boost.

 

[Alucard Vampiry]

The Dragon's Mate, Part II

Click to shrink...

+10 to an action of your choosing.

News on the update I have already finished half of it, and thanks to poor first roll +60 in omake bonuses were already used.

 

[RandomDwarf]

Holy ducking shit!!!!

Thank god we made those peaked then, cause damn would that have sucked.

 

[Ancient One]

Omake: The Wolf Father

Ulric grumbled to himself as he stalked through the Sea of Souls. The grizzled elder god was bedecked in armor and furs carrying his Great War axe. His movements speaking of many centuries of experience hunting and fighting for survival. Behind him padded his loyal lupine companions. A thick veil of cold surrounded them as they made their way forward.

The Wolf Father was not pleased at the moment. In fact he was quite cross with the current situation. He idly smote a group of lesser daemons that made to attack his group. Their forms stiffening to a halt with intense cold before crumbling like shattered glass. Their energies faded back in to the other realm as the war god continued as his march. Their efforts barely worth a first glance. His grumbling continued in the old tongue of his youth.

He was quite cross that he had to come out here like this. He hated having to leave his usual stalking grounds in the northern empire at all, but this was especially bad. That bloody old ice witch had been giving him shit for centuries now. Now thanks to those insane bastards, especially that bloody hound, he had to trek up here in to her home turf. That had prompted a massive screaming fit that had rattled the surrounding lands. A few blizzards had spawned from it and thankfully hammered the blood tide.

Ulric cursed under his breath again. He truly hated that old hag by this point. Granted he knew he had been rather rough in his youth so it was partially his own fault. He was older and wiser now and could see that. Looking back he had to cringe at some of his old behaviors. Still that hag needed to learn to let it go. It had been centuries since those days. Learn to get with the times already. They were here to help her blast it all.

Of course she wanted to be stubborn and insisted they could handle it. Ursun at least had welcomed the aid. The big bear at least had a good head on his shoulders. Though it was clear that it grated on his pride. Those two prided themselves on being the first defense against chaos. Regardless of the fact they were constantly on the precipice of ruin because of it. When they weren't being outright overrun. He supposed he could understand that. Pride was always a serious matter especially for gods like them. It must feel like admitting weakness to them.

It didn't make it any less annoying though. Dammit all this was bigger than any of their pride. This was a major crisis that could endanger all of the old world. The blood tide if not stopped would overrun Kislev and pour south in a river of crazed bloodlust and fanaticism. Which is why he and the others had taken action and come north. He had come personally to help fight. There was a personal dispute between him and the blood god. As primary war god of the empire he also loathed to sit around when he could go out and fight himself. This was despite their own problems in their own lands.

The War God once again cursed those over zealous fools. Their petty religious disputes had helped bring about the division of the empire. Even now after the divine visions some hard heads were still raising a fuss. Those arrogant and slothful nobles certainly weren't helping either. Now there were the Skaven to deal with. The Dwarven Ancestor gods had been rather smug about being proven right. It was annoying having it rubbed in your face like that.

The Wolf Father quickly lashed out at a silhouette to his left. The greater daemon screamed in pain. Ice spreading from where his axe was buried in it's flesh. His companions quickly lunged forward. Tearing into it with tooth and claw. The creature released a few ragged wheezes before collapsing into base energy.

The old god grunted and cleaned off his weapon. He marched on grumbling about bastard daemons and their interrupting.

@Alucard Vampiry
I will put this on war rolls. Whatever needs a boost to succeed.

 

[Ebanu8]

+10 to an action of your choosing.

Click to shrink...

Once again, this goes to war rolls when needed.

 

[Ancient One]

Omake: The Dove of Mercy

Shallya grimaced as she looked over the frozen nation of Kislev. Things were certainly a mixed bag at the moment. The blood tide was all over the place and so was the fighting. Battles occurred at every hour of the day and the night. Weapons clashed and armor broke. Men and women tore at each other with lethal intent. Blood watered the earth and bodies fell to the ground. Her father Morr was certainly going to be busy after all this.

Still they needed to persevere in this fight. Retreating, surrendering, and negotiating were not options in this fight. Not against this particular enemy at least. These were the servants of the blood god they were dealing with. A fanatical group of crazed berserkers who thrived on senseless bloodshed. If not stopped these savages would tear apart the nation of Kislev inflicting unspeakable cruelty on anyone who did not join them. Then they would turn their attention south to their old enemy the empire.

The brutes would tear south in a river of destruction, bloodshed, rage, and madness. Corruption and ruin would spread wherever they went and make things even worse. Cults across the old world would be emboldened and would surge in response. Adding even greater chaos and death to the already disastrous mixture. Making it that much harder to defeat the ruinous powers. Yet more lives ruined by their callous madness. Therefore they must be destroyed here and now.

She couldn't repress another grimace at the thought. She was a goddess of healing and mercy. The thought of harming another went against her nature. Still she could not help a spark of bitter satisfaction at the thought. Khorne was not her enemy in the same way Nurgle, that wretched sack of puss and shit, was, but his appetite for carnage and destruction ruffled her feathers in a way few things could. It was no small feat to make Shallya of all beings hate you. Chaos was very good at earning hatred though. She certainly had reason to loathe them after all of these cycles.

Khorne made no secret of his dislike of her either. He had always disliked her and her followers work. The lessening of the flow of blood their healing caused angered him greatly. Then again there were few things that didn't anger the blood god. She took some small pleasure in spiting him or really any of the chaos gods. Any destruction and harm they caused she would work to mend.

Speaking of which she turned her attention back to her followers. Many of them had come north with the army. After all any good army has healers to tend to the wounded. Her healers were doing her proud she was pleased to note. They hurried about diligently from patient to patient. Treating injuries with all of their skill. Their white robes were soaked with blood and sweat, but they continued on none the less. Saving many lives with their efforts. She was doing her best to provide blessings and miracles to aid all of them.

Shallya found herself feeling grateful for the sudden increase in power in recent years. The sudden spike had been a big surprise to her. Albeit not for the reason some might think. Shallya was in fact the goddess of arguably the most wide spread faith in the empire. Not the most popular per say, but you would be hard pressed to find a settlement without at least a small shrine dedicated to her. She might not have the wide spread fervor Sigmar and Ulric held, but all of those shrines and temples dedicated to her had an effect all the same. So she had gotten used to having a sizable amount of power at her disposal. She might not have the most faith, but she was on the upper end of the scale for their pantheon. There was little change in that amount either.

So the sudden surge had startled her greatly. When she investigated she had been surprised again. The new influx was coming from Wallachia of all places. Apparently she had been quite popular among the common people there for a while. Well before Dracul took over, but due to the old nobles they were never able to express it. Apparently the dragon god had permitted construction of holy places to her. She had honestly expected him to try and gather all the faith for himself. This wasn't a judgement of his character. She did approve of his betterment of his people's lives, but she knew the greed of dragons. So she had been pleasantly surprised.

The goddess made a mental note to thank the new god after all this was over. She then returned returned her focus to her subjects.

@Alucard Vampiry
This goes to whatever war roll needs a boost.

 

[Ancient One]

Omake: The Trickster

Ranald grinned as he went about his work. His domains at the moment were running full blast. This was proving to be fairly amusing despite the circumstances. These brutish simpletons made easy game for his mischief. There he decided that should do it nicely. He quickly withdrew and watched attentively from a safe distance.

A large explosion boomed forth and rattled the area something fierce. Bodies were sent flying through the air and several damaged buildings crumbled to the ground. A few others both human and structure caught fire with the former scrambling around in a panic screaming in pain and fear. Their flailing only succeeded in spreading the flames. The building fires also spread due to the lack of preparation and order among the cultists. So the mayhem only grew worse and would take that much longer to be cleared up.

Ranald laughed as he beheld the chaos he had wrought. Really this was almost too easy. The dumb oafs made it so simple to toy with and manipulate them. He grinned wide as he watched them turn on each other. Several of the higher ranked had grouped together and were now arguing. They wanted to know what went wrong and who was to blame. True to their nature tempers quickly flared, accusations and insults were thrown followed by weapons being drawn. Blows quickly followed as they tore into each other in an idiotic bloody showing.

This small town had been the location of a ritual site for the blood tide. Key words there being had been. The order gods were fully aware of just how nasty these rituals could be if not dealt with. So Ranald had come personally to ensure it all fell apart with his trademark mischief. Rituals like these were quite finicky after all. It only took the right nudge for them to fail spectacularly. From there he knew without an obvious enemy to attack the cultists would turn on each other throwing blame. He wasn't just stopping their ritual efforts he was thinning out the ranks with infighting and the fallout at the same time. These savages and their usual behavior fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

Still the thief god felt his smile fall away as he considered the bigger picture. Things were a mess right now plain and simple. The blood tide for all it's stupidity was still very dangerous. It was swarming over a significant portion of Kislev causing death and destruction. The imperials fought fiercely to destroy them, but it was slow going. Khornates thrived on bloodshed and it seemed like there was no end to them in sight. Not to mention the damn corruption they spread had to be dealt with. There was going to be a lot of fire and burning before long.

This wasn't even mentioning the cultists other rituals. The gods of order were doing their best to get them, but there were a lot. Even the smallest could grow into a self sustaining cycle if not handled. Feeding off the bloodshed the cultists and daemons created. Not to mention it was entirely likely that the blood god was hiding at least one from them. Khorne was a brutish berserker, but he did have some sense of strategy.

This left the order gods no choice, but to go out and look for themselves. Ranald had volunteered to do so. His skills lent themselves well to the task. He was also as much as he hated to admit it the least suited of them for direct conflict save for maybe Shallya. He was arguably the weakest member of their pantheon. His skills were ill suited for it as well. He was a liar and a thief, not a warrior.

Ranald sighed and wrapped his cloak around himself again. Off to the next site he supposed.

@Alucard Vampiry
This goes to war rolls to achieve high success like the ritual.

 

[RandomDwarf]

Yeah first round needed a +60 bonus because of a bad roll, that's usually a indicator of stepping up the omake game so we don't get squashed by khorne going apeshit on the world.