New World
Flames danced and crackled in Gertrude's eyes as they devoured huts made of wood and mud. The sound was comforting, almost a lullaby, at this point. A battle cry of a greenskin broke the comfort that she had almost built for herself. Spinning on her heel she faced the beast. It was almost half again her height. Beady little eyes reflected the fire's light as they focused on her and hands tensed around the wooden clubs it held in its hands. A bolt of liquid fire to the ork's throat solved both of Gertrude's problems at once. It stopped screaming and she no longer had to look at it's ulgy face. With a quiet huff Gertrude spun back to the burning village and watched for anymore stragglers.
Two more orcs fell to her magic before she heard the call to head back to the rendezvous point. Gertrude took one more look at the camp she had helped burn down and then looked at the goblin shaman that lay at her feet. Its face was frozen in a rictus of horror and its chest had burst from magic handled poorly. Gertrude kicked some dirt over the foul thing and then headed back to the road. Weaving between the hills and forest reaching the road caused her to relax a little bit. Then she groaned when she saw the flickering light of a campfire at the top of the tallest hill. Why did the captain have to choose that as the campsite? Grumbling in her head Gertrude began the short hike up.
A roaring campfire greeted her when Gertrude crested the top of the hill. Below her a few more soldiers were working there way up, but on top of the hill the camp was in full swing. Twenty or so tents had been set up with another three on the way. With quick glances around the camp Gertrude tried to make out how well everyone else had done. How many injuries she wasn't good enough to prevent. Then she noticed she was being waved down. With a sigh Gertrude headed towards the campfire.
"Reporting in Captain." Gertrude said as she sat next to the man and the fire.
The captain just laughed. His thick mustache quivering with the joy he was expressing. "How many times do I have to ask? Just call me by my name. Please I insist!" The captain said as he finished up laughing.
Gertrude gritted her teeth. It was against regulation, but the man had asked her five times now. Was the breach socially acceptable now? Would refusing be worse?
"Very well, Henrick." Gertude said between gritted teeth.
Henrick just laughed more. "Finally got you a little bit out of your shell Gertrude!"
Gertrude managed to bite her tongue before her request to be refered to as journeywomen Wagner escaped. This wasn't the time for that. The captain was happy. Happy captain meant a good report and timely payment. If she kept repeating that maybe she could finish this assignment before snapping at the man.
Gertrude jumped a little in her skin as a voice entered the conversation from behind her. "It seems that you're in a good mood, Captain Henrick. Has everything gone well?"
Gertrude twisted her head a little and saw the vice captain as he made her way over. Catching her eyes he tilted his head slightly which she returned. Then he sat down next to her and cracked his neck.
"Everything went swimmingly Charles! Even though there was a small snag with that horrible shaman. That brute though didn't even get a chance to cast a single spell before blowing himself up. Splendid!"
"How are the injuries among the men?" Asked Gertrude.
Henrick shrugged. "No one died. Any good man will come back stronger than ever from any injuries they got."
The look on the vice captain's face helped her bite back her retort. It seemed she had at least one person who knew reality. An injury didn't have to kill to ruin a life.
The vice captain coughed before steering the conversation away. "We did get off lightly considering that there was a shaman involved. I would also like to thank you personally Journeyman Wagner for your help. It made cleaning up far easier than it would have been."
Gertrude glanced at the fire before responding. "I certainly didn't expect the technique I used on the shaman to be so effective but it did end up making everything easier."
At this Henrick looked interested. "I didn't see you do anything to the shaman. I remember doing this sweep two years back and the journeymen couldn't do anything when a shaman popped up. Made me look quite bad with all the deaths that run. What did you do?"
Even the Vice Captain looked interested, looking up from the stew a soldier had handed him.
Gertrude shrugged. "It's a new theory. The first paper on it came out about a year ago. I was lucky enough to get to sit in on the original lectures and had discussions about it with my master right before I started my journeying. Most of it flew above my head but I understood the basics. Essentially the idea is that by using imperial magic in certain ways wizards can force orc or goblin shamans to kill themselves."
Henrick laughed again. "It certainly seemed effective!"
Gertrude twisted her head to look at the fire burning down in the woods they just cleaned out. "It can be. It's a new theory though and there is a lot of debate about the exact limits possible. I was trying to weaken the spell the shaman was going to cast. The really crazy stuff you can apparently do needs skill and knowledge in magic beyond my current level. We just got lucky that the shaman got mad with what I was doing and tried some really stupid, stupid even for a goblin, things to try and get his spell back to full strength. Dying so quickly and painlessly was probably the best thing that could have happened to him with how badly he managed his magic."
Silence descended around the campfire while her conversation partners ate some of the stew and digested her words. It was the Vice Captain that broke the silence.
"What are some of the crazy things that could happen with magic against the orks?" He asked.
Gertrude tapped her chin in thought. "Well, Master was really interested in the prospect of steering an ork's spell around. There is also the idea that you can destroy an entire waaagh by messing with their magic."
Henrick gauffed at that. "Destroying an entire waaagh? I doubt that. What use would armies be then?"
A soldier across the fire cleared his throat. "Pardon the interruption but I saw that exact thing happen. I didn't see the spell cast but one moment bodies are piling up like logs, the next the orcs look like they saw their own death. Turn and run they did. Cut into each other to get away."
Henrick turned to glare at the man but Gertrude managed to get her question in before the rant. "You were at Karak Eight Peaks?"
The man nodded. "Eye. Used the money to get ma family out of Stirland and set up three towns down the road from here. Got bored. Joined up with the militia."
"Do you have any stories you could share?" Gertrude asked.
"Sure." The soldier said.
The rest of the evening was filled with stories of a hot southern sun. Of dust billowing across the horizon. Of deep tunnels and flickering, feeble, light. Of gleaming mountain peaks and the spilt blood of man, dwarf, and orc. Of a desperate stand with the courage of mountains. Of storms of lightning that tore the earth asunder. Of watching fire consume an entire valley. Of tearful goodbyes and enough riches to drown in.
When Gertrude finally stumbled into her tent and let sleep claim her she dreamed of legends and songs. Dreamed of forging a new world.
A.N
@BoneyM Omake for the Omake throne.
