Of Beasts, Men, and Gods - Hohenzollern Interlude
Concurrent With Spikes, Horns, and Stone 22
Magnus walked wearily on his way back into Castle Wulfenburg, pausing only for one of the Jade Wizards to reach out with the waters within a nearby basin to wash him clean. It was not particularly pleasant, especially with how sodden it would leave the layers of linen and leather beneath the battered plate, but there was no chance that he would bring the tainted blood of his enemies one foot into his lifelong home. Behind him, other attendants moved to aid the squawking and mutinously sullen gryphon he had flown in on. It was unsure how much Octaine really understood about what had happened with his mother, on a wider level. The Amber Wizards had been able to communicate with him through their mastery of Ghur, but he was young yet compared to Oskana. It showed in the fighting, his reaction to Magnus' orders as they flew out to fight.
"Brother," Arthur greeted him at the doors still dressed himself in obsidian colored plate armor, normal priestly vestments still put aside even now.
His once upon a time triplet, now fraternal twin, had once upon a time been afflicted by stepping too deeply into Morr's Realm during his holy pursuits. But Magnus could tell that the greying which afflicted his brother now was beyond what Morr had done to him. It was not the grey of the grave, or at least, not quite the expected hue. He was strained, Arthur, and tired. That wasn't particularly surprising. No Hohenzollern alive at the moment save perhaps the children and grandchildren were sleeping much these past few weeks. Even then, it was so damned difficult for any of them to hide their concerns. Their worries. It filtered down, no matter how big the smiles they kept on their faces. Unlike Magnus, Arthur was not currently carrying his oversized enchanted blade, but he was ready to ride out at any time. On the opposite side of the stables that a belligerent Octaine was being led towards, the steeds reserved for the usage of the Hohenzollerns themselves were eating heartily from their oats, barding and saddles ready to be set upon them at a moment's notice.
"Arthur," Magnus nodded back. "Anything happen while I was gone?"
Both began to move through the hallways, a mixture of Black Guard of Morr and Greatswords following them from behind. There was no point in taking off his armor, not when there was a likelihood that either of them would be riding or flying out again soon enough. That did not mean that Magnus turned down the frothing mug of ale that was offered up to each of them as they passed by a waiting servant.
"Nothing that wasn't happening before you left," Arthur informed him after they both finished drinking and put the mugs back. "We're still getting reports from all over. Messages by bird or courier."
"Has the militia been fully called up?" Magnus asked as they ascended the stairs heading towards the office of their father.
Magnus refused to call it 'his' office. So long as the Yhanna Sunweaver claimed that his father was alive, he had to believe her. He had to. Even as he thought such things, the old familiar recriminations started to bubble to the surface. He was used to the servants and Greatswords that filled Castle Wulfenburg offering him some measure of deference. He was the heir of his father, a Hohenzollern besides, so it was largely expected. But he had to fight back the urge to grab some of them by the shoulders and force them to raise themselves upright, for the degrees of their bows were far too low. They should not bow to him. Not like that. He was a Prince of Ostland, he was
not the Grand Prince, and he would not be for many years yet. But too many of them could not accept the mutterings of the Eonir as they spoke of trees and intermingling essences and concepts that they could not even begin to conceptualize without the touch of magic and nature that the Eonir possessed. Too many of them thought they were granting him kindness and respect for these dark times, for a son that had lost his father. But all Magnus could see in the grief on their faces, the depth of their bows, the deference in their words, was an acceptance that he could not accept within himself. Not about his father, and not about his mother.
"Called up? Yes. Fully assembled? No," Arthur clucked his tongue. "We're dividing them out to the various noble families, the larger ones. Hard point assemblies, castles, and so on. Then they get divided back out again, to protect the most vulnerable settlements."
"Good, good," Magnus nodded, rubbing at his chin as they went before finally reaching the office.
The doors opened up to show all of his father's advisors that should be there, save for Anna who was still in Salkalten and even then Helga served ably enough without her, all of whom made to stand before Magnus waved them back down again. His mother…no, he didn't allow the thought to continue. Sabine was there instead, and she gave him a firm and reassuring nod as he glanced at her. Stephan von Raukov was getting on in years at this point, but the old former mercenary was solid as stone, just like the rest of his family. Though his beard and mustache were beginning to grey at astonishing rates. Next to him was Morgan von Bernhardt. The woman was practically spitting furious, constantly bouncing between grief and fury over what had happened to Salkalten, her precious magnum opus, as well as what had happened to the man and woman who had allowed her so much going missing upon the Ark. Helga was present, though not her daughter, and seemed much more focused on scribbling on some parchment than doing much else. All of the engineers were in a total frenzy, far more than usual, which was only to be expected. But there was one person missing, and one that did not have the same explanation as Anna wanting to poke around on the ships of Barak Varr. Something about an aerial device she'd never seen before and that King Grundadrakk was not willing to refuse her access to after their failure in fulfilling their oath to fight the Druchii alongside his father.
"Where is he," Magnus growled, glancing between the Priest of Sigmar Jorgan Albrecht and Lady Rosa of the Cult of Morr, and upon seeing their expressions turned his gaze go Hagrid Baggins and the Witch Hunter Marlisa.
"Still at the Flame, Prince," Hagrid said, the hefty halfling completely serious and lacking in his usually jovial aspect, eyes flinty and narrowed.
Emil Beltz had been an advisor to his father for many years. But now that they were in a crisis, and his father was not present, the old hoary Ulrican had completely refused to return to Wulfenburg. Magnus knew that his father had refused his efforts to try and spread the Iceborne Flame, but it was not as if the priest had actually been formally exiled or anything of the sort. But he had left all the same. Now, he was refusing a request from Magnus to return. He was not even returning their messages, even though Magnus was assured that he was alive and active at the Flame. The Ulrican pilgrims and other refugees that had fled to a place of great consecration were being whipped up into a fury, at the very least, frantically throwing up their defenses and arming and training themselves. But it was still disconcerting that he remained where he was.
"Then we'll do this without him," Magnus grunted, making to move again before pausing right before the Witch Hunter. "You," he said, making her raise an eyebrow beneath that large wide-brimmed hat she wore. "Something that I've noticed while working so far," he looked her up and down. "Are you, or are you not, the Witch Hunter Captain of Ostland?"
She stiffened where she stood, lips thinning and firming, her jaw working in her silence.
"I am aware that your mother previously held the position," he said before closing his eyes, sighing, and then opening them again with a much quieter voice. "But we are no longer in a position where we can simply rely on things going well in our organizational purposes. Who is the Captain?"
"…thus far the Cult has not-," she began slowly.
"They've sent out the orders, you have simply not fulfilled them," he interrupted her gently, and watched as her eyes flicked to a sympathetic looking Jorgan who had a hand clutched around his hammer necklace, then towards the completely flat expression of Hagrid. "Witch Hunter
Captain Marlisa Liesedotte, we will be relying upon the Order of the Silver Hammer in these trying times. Will you fulfill your duty properly?"
Marlisa's eyes flared, but eventually the Witch Hunter swallowed down whatever bile was trying to come out.
"The Order serves the soul of the people of the Empire, Prince Hohenzollern," she answered through gritted teeth.
"So they do," Magnus nodded before finally moving past her and around the side of his father's desk before sitting down in his father's chair, glancing from the papers and then back up at all of them. "Now then. The Army of the Range has survived the assaults that came for them after we put that ancient horror to rest. My sister is rebuilding the Salkalten Guard and Salkalten at this very moment with the aid of the dwarfs of Barak Varr. The Army of the Forest has been separated out to help ward off the enemy surges wherever they can be found. The Army of Ostland…?" He glanced over to Von Raukov.
"Took casualties in the fighting at the coast, sir, but we've no shortage of volunteers at the moment. Equipping them won't be the hardest thing, but the training…," the veteran grimaced. "There's only so much you can do compared to actual experience."
"Helga?" Magnus asked, turning his head.
The increasingly elderly engineer worked her hands in her lap, a deep frown on her face lengthening the lines that were already there.
"Lost a lot of good folks up there," she finally said, looking into her lap. "Not all of 'em, thank the Gods, but a lot of 'em."
Magnus' grimace softened as he bowed his head for a moment as well.
"…I know. Such is war, unfortunately. They will never be forgotten."
"We can set up the ranks, but we'll be running thin on the ground," she informed him. "Not as many to run the foundries, so repairs and replacements on our war machines is going to slow down the more of them we put out into the field."
Magnus frowned, rubbing at his chin.
"Damn. There's no way to train more quickly, either. It will have to do," he said, nodding to Helga who just nodded back.
Magnus then slowly inhaled and exhaled, eyes closing briefly as he did it.
"Few wish to admit it, but the Empire is at war," he said, the ensuring silence a choking and deafening thing.
An array of grim and worried faces looked back at him.
"Many thought the beastmen defeated. Scoured from the land, beaten back into their holes and huddled around their stones," he began, rising from his father's chair as he did it and leaning forward with both hands on the desk. "And now they have returned, putting such hopes and dreams into the grave."
The map of the Empire that Arthur had placed on the desk for him in anticipation of this conversation now found Magnus' finger pressed heavily atop it.
"With half of all our nation's armies send south to Karaz-a-Karak, we are more vulnerable than ever before. Kislev has fallen into civil war, and cannot be relied upon to help. The dwarfs holds are besieged from without and within by their own enemies. Even now," he tapped his finger down on the map. "We are receiving reports and missives of warherds bursting forth from the deep forests. Middenheim is under siege and with their forces lost previously cannot manage a breakout," he ground the tip of his armored finger in that point of the map. "There are beastmen rushing north from the Drakwald into Nordland, though the Eonir and Count Kessel are fighting them off. Others are tearing their way out of the Middle Mountains, but the Army of the Range is containing them. For
now," he stressed the word.
Then he moved his finger east.
"The Iron Woman of Ostermark battles the beastmen as well, they emerge from the forests and from the mountains both, and she is committed to battling them, and cannot send aid to anyone else at this time."
On his finger slid south.
"More emerge from the forests and mountains near Stirland. Averland and Wissenland fight their own warherds as best they can, even with the forces of our nation so winnowed by duty and oaths elsewhere."
"What of Reikland, Prince Hohenzollern?" Von Raukov spoke up, looking much more troubled now.
"The Wizards, as near as we can tell, are being contested by a great multitude of beastmen shamans," Magnus shook his head. "And, if the rumors are true, even some daemons. We cannot expect them to be able to aid others anytime soon. Sabine?" He glanced at his wife.
"Reports coming out of Westerland are not as bad as Middenland or Nordland," she offered immediately. "They have some beastmen rampaging out of the swamps and forests, some fimir, but nothing so bad as their neighbors. And, since they sold their armies away to Averland...well, there are surely still plenty of mercenaries able to defend the city proper, but outside?" She chewed at her lip. "Much less secure."
Hagrid raised a hand even as he was fishing an apple out of a pocket and taking a large bite out of it.
"Wasn't there something else you were telling me about before the meeting?" He asked after swallowing.
Sabine sucked some air through her teeth, a look of bemused amazement on her face.
"The Sword of Justice appears to have gone on a rather large arrest spree. She's declared martial law as well, and while her Owls are comparatively few, she's apparently taken control of most of the city for one reason or another. Something with the docks, and something about Elftown as well. That's all I know from the Cult of Handrich," she shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry."
"If nothing else, with Evangeline there at least
someone with a strong sword arm is there," Magnus snorted. "And Master Baggins. Any news of the Mootland?"
Hagrid's expression soured slightly before he viciously polished off the entire apple in a mere two more bites.
"News from home isn't as good as I'd hoped. They've got plenty of ungors and a few outlying centigors nibbling at the edges. Last I heard, the Elder's called up the militia, such as they are...but if anything heavier hits them, they'll be in trouble," he admitted slowly. "For now, though, it seems the beastmen are focused on harder targets. Presumably so they can reward themselves later with some easy kills," he grumbled.
"If there's anything we of Ostland have learned of your kind, Master Baggins, is that you are
not to be underestimated," Magnus said firmly. "And whatever our problems with Starbrook, I've little doubt he'll do whatever is necessary to protect the Moot."
Hagrid snorted.
"At the very least, he ought to, aye."
"Prince Hohenzollern," Marlisa finally spoke up again, her voice a gravelly rasp now. "What of the elves? That great flame bird of theirs caused quite a fright to many citizens in the city when it came flying up."
"Are they to fight with us as well?" Jorgen asked, eyes narrowed and hand once more going to his hammer necklace. "Their tales...I can scarcely believe them."
"They speak much, but show little," Marlisa added suspiciously.
"Arthur?" Magnus glanced at his brother.
"The grounds around the compound are ruined, that part is true," Arthur spoke up, frowning. "The very area was terribly scarred by the Winds, or so the Wizards tell me, they know more than I. Suffice to say that they suffered greatly in whatever it was that nearly slew them. Still, Loremaster Aurelion assures me that once they have sufficiently recovered, and have rebuilt their defenses somewhat, she plans on dedicating at least some of her garrison to aiding the Army of the Forest against our foes."
"One or two elves, pfah," Jorgen rolled his eyes.
"Sisters of Avelorn and Shadow Warriors, some of the very best of their kind, actually," Arthur chided gently. "They alone could prove immensely useful it utilized correctly."
"Nevertheless," Magnus called the room's attention back to himself. "Our enemies abound."
"They're everywhere," Jorgan murmured, the Priest of Sigmar muttering a soft prayer under his breath. "As payment for our sins and arrogance, they come."
"They come because they see that we are vulnerable," Magnus cut in, eyes narrowed. "Beastmen and beasts they are, but even the least of beasts knows prey when it is not at its strongest," he growled, shaking his head and looking back to the map. "And that is the problem. They have surged outwards, and in those provinces that sent their armies south, aid is required. Hochland still fights, but their forces are…," he sighed. "General Briggs is doing his best, but the factions of that province appear to still abhor cooperation between them."
"Fools," Liesdotte scowled. "Squabbling for power at a time like this?"
"There is never a better time to try and gather power over another than when they are terribly vulnerable," Sabine spoke up, hands over the small swelling of her belly. "They know it. It is the time of Magus the Pious," she looked at Magnus in the eye, a sad smile on her face. "The time of Count Hohenzollern. Of so many others. They do not see the threat, the danger, because this is the time of the Empire's greatness."
"And that is the problem," Magnus said, willing Sabine to feel the love for her he felt through his eyes before looking back to the map. "The Cult of Taal abhors the beastmen like nothing else, for it is they who despoil their sacred places, are a blight upon the natural world they steward. Talabecland sent out detachments of its forces all across the Empire to try and aid their fellow man."
"What?" Von Raukov sputtered. "But why?"
"I can only presume," Magnus murmured, "That they believed that Taal was protecting the province, for there were no major warherds that they could not run roughshod over on their way elsewhere. That the Lord of the Beasts was warding them off."
"Oh, fuck," the old mercenary groaned.
"Beastmen and beasts they are, but they are
not stupid," Magnus nodded, watching as almost everyone else in the room took on an ever grimmer cast to their faces.
Only Arthur and Lady Rosa seemed more self-contained, but that was to be expected when it came to the priests of the God of Death.
"Talabecland calls for aid. After their forces had left their borders, the beastmen struck. From…seemingly almost everywhere in the province at once. There are worries that the enemy is heading for Talabheim itself, and that the emergency militia and pressganged troops that they can bring to the fore will not be enough."
"What of their other troops?" Sabine asked, looking down at the map. "Can they not try and return?"
"They are trying," Magnus pushed off from the desk and straightened, arms folding behind the small of his back. "But it is no small feat to cut their way
back through the warherds rampaging across the province. Especially as separated out as they are."
"They're calling for aid," Arthur said, one eyebrow raised. "Really? From
us?"
"From everyone," Magnus corrected. "We just happen to be…possibly the only province that has an army to
spare at the moment."
Arthur closed his eyes, and squeezed the bridge of his nose.
"By the Black Rose…,"
"We might be seeing a lot more of those planted by the end of this," Magnus sighed. "There are still beastmen aplenty in Ostland, we cannot leave them be, so we cannot bring the Army of the Forest. We…," Magnus trailed off, and blinked rapidly at the shadow that fell across one of the windows of his father's office.
Then Anna was there, slamming into the glass and window frame with just shy enough speed of breaking it, nearly slipping backwards and falling to her potential death before she froze her hand to the window. In her other hand was a thick rope. Utterly without expression, she turned her face to a nearby shocked Arthur and then looked pointedly at the window latch. She did noting more than wait for Arthur to open the window, even as the rope she was holding onto seemed to wiggle and writhe in her grip. All of them also became aware of a strange thumping, almost chopping sound which they could distantly hear through the roof and walls. Then the window was opened, and they could hear it more clearly, as Anna walked into the room, not even dusting herself off while letting go of the rope.
"Set down outside the city!" She yelled out the window in that flat tone before looking back at Magnus.
"Anna…?" Magnus said slowly. "Would you care to explain?"
"War Dirigible," she said tonelessly. "Dwarf scouting aerial vehicle only installed on their dreadnoughts. Got loaned one to get here faster. Fueling issues this far inland will be…significant, so liable to need to send it right back to Salkalten."
Everyone in the room blinked slowly.
"Bombed a few beastmen on the way here," she added. "What's going on?"
"Talabecland needs help, beastmen are cropping up in every province, we're readying to deploy the Army of Ostland," Arthur informed her.
Anna paused, mouth closing shut as she thought with the slightest furrowing of her brow.
"Understood," she declared, then turned to look at Magnus. "When do we leave?"
Maybe I write one of my own, though I doubt that since I'm trying to put together a Master planquest of some sort right now while trying to also revive my review thread.
