Errant Error
Borek dropped to his knees, mouth agape, eyes fixed on the awesome sight. Gotrek and Snorri's reactions were less dramatic, but with no less surprise evident in their manner. Satisfaction at a successful surprise warred with your own apprehension at the event which you had unwittingly set in motion, tinged with exhaustion. It had been a busy week for you, a week in which the Expedition had been cooling its heels in Praag awaiting your arrival.
Eventually Borek manages to push through his shock to speak. "How?" he asks, voice somehow sounding weak and lost and awed all at the same time. Looking at him from the corner of your eyes, you're shocked by the tears beading down the dwarf noble's face.
"Well, it all began when I sought to recruit some Bretonnians..."
Four months ago, Bretonnian Embassy, Altdorf
"What exactly do you mean by you can't help me?" you ask, leaning back in to your chair. "Is it a matter of jurisdiction?"
Across the elegant table from you, Eleanor the Fair, resident Damsel of the Bretonnian Embassy, nods her had sadly. "I'm afraid I represent Bretonnia as a whole, not any single Duchy, least of all Carcassonne." The Damsel, whom you vaguely recognize from your lecture on the Waaagh, pauses to drink some tea before continuing. "If you wish to seek the aid of its Knights, you must petition the Duke himself. For a Damsel, you must speak with my Lady Morgiana."
You sigh. You'd expected such, but had thought to stop by the Embassy just in case. You polish off the last of your tea, before rising from your seat. "I thank you for your time," you say, bowing slightly in her direction. Before you can turn to leave though, she speaks up once more.
"While I cannot aid you directly in this matter, I can at least give you some small assistance to ease your way." Eleanor waves an empty hand in a peculiar motion, before plucking a piece of paper from thin air which she then hands to you. "This is a letter of recommendation addressed to Duke Philippe. With this, he will give your petition the weight it deserves." She looks at you, face unreadable except for a mysterious twinkling in her eyes.
You regard the letter in your hands. Damsels are rumored to have some sort of prophetic powers, so... "You knew I was coming, didn't you?" The Damsel says silent, but the slight smile that forms on her lips is answer enough. "Why bother with the tea then?"
Eleanor takes up her empty teacup, studying the dregs almost intently. "I wished to take your measure. Your quest will be quite difficult, and I wanted to ensure you were up to the task." She places her cup back on the table before continuing. "That, and you were quite enchanting in our previous meeting during your lecture, though we never spoke face to face," she says softly.
"What?" you choke out.
"It is a pity," she continues, an elegant finger playing along the rim of her cup, bringing to mind some of the more salacious scenes from some of your romance books. "That you are already spoken for." She looks up at you from beneath her long lashes. "Unless...?"
You very pointedly do
not flee from the room with nary a farewell, Eleanor's melodious laughter ringing out behind you.
Four days later, Castle Carcassonne
"So, let me sum up the situation," you say, not quite able to keep the irritation from your voice.
"Very well," replies the Steward of Carcassonne, Jacques d'Carcassonne.
"The Royarch is dead, gored by a Minotaur."
"That is correct, may he rest at the side of the Lady."
"Yes, yes. And the Duke is in the previous Royarch's capital of Couronne to decide the next Royarch, since the previous one left no chosen successor."
"That is true."
"Only he can command the Knights of Carcassonne to assist me, so I have to bring my petition to him directly."
"Correct."
"The Lady Morgiana is also in Couronne, so I won't be able to enlist any Damsels yet as well."
"You speak the truth."
You spend a moment glaring at the Steward's placid face, before giving him your thanks, turning on your heel, and walking away.
Another four days later, Castle Couronne
You'd thought your mission to speak with Duke Philippe would have gotten more difficult when he became King Philippe V of Bretonnia. It seems though, that you had been expected. You are rushed right into the castle by a pair of Knights despite your gyrocopter having barely just landed, leaving your guards grumbling behind you.
"We apologize for the haste, my lady," one of the knights says. "The Fay Enchantress has given us strict instructions to usher you in as soon as you had arrived. You pass by many empty halls, signs of the royal court preparing to move to Carcassonne, until at last stopping before an ornate set of doors flanked by half a dozen guards. With trepidation filling your entire body, you enter...
And are met with a wall of stares, as what seems to be the entire royal court turns to look at the new arrival. At the head of the room, standing by a gilded throne, is an crowned and armored man you assume to be Duke, no, King Philippe. Beside him is beautiful woman dressed in an elegant gown, no doubt the Fay Enchantress.
The silence of your arrival continues, but before you can bring yourself to speak despite all the attention upon you, you are saved by King Philippe gesturing in your direction. "Here she is now," he booms, voice echoing in the silence of the throne room, "the Lady of Shadow, Servant of the Silver Peaks, as foretold by the Fay Enchantress' prophecy. Tell us, O Wizard of the Empire, where shall the Errantry War head?"
Wait, what? Before your brain can quite catch up to the weight of that pronouncement, your mouth runs ahead of the rest of you. "Karag Dum?" you hear yourself say, voice weak.
Silence is your answer, one that stretches out seemingly into eternity. Just as you begin to hope that no one heard you answer the question, your hope is dashed as the whole court roars as out in celebration.
"The Wizard has spoken!" King Philippe roars out over the cheering court. "The Errantry War shall head to Karag Dum to aid the Dwarfs against the depredations of Chaos!"
Caught between the cheering court of Bretonnians and the smug and knowing smile of the Fay Enchantress surveying the scene, you do the only thing that comes to mind.
You fled...
Back to the present
"Of course, that wasn't quite the end of it," you tell Borek, still kneeling on the ramparts of Praag, tears streaming down his face as he watches the vanguard of the Errantry War set up camp around the smaller encampments of the Expedition, themselves surrounding the landships. Vast numbers of men and horses mill about, while overhead a flock of pegasi and their knightly riders wheeled about.
"There were quite the number of agreements to be made," you continue, idly watching Snorri and Gotrek numbly exchanging coins. A bet of some kind? "The Empire needed some compensation to allow the passage of the Errantry War, so the bulk of the Knights are still there, murdering their way through Beastmen and Greenskins. The Ice Witches too needed to be alerted that the window of clear weather required extending, plus the Tzar needed to give his approval as well. All of which and more are why I was late."
"My people, they can be saved!" Borek cries out, openly weeping now. He turns to you, wild-eyed. "Thank you Loremaster Weber! Thank you!"
You smile at the weeping dwarf. "You're welcome, but there's the one who most deserves your thanks," you reply, waving your hand behind him.
He turns, to find himself face to face, so to speak, with King Philippe, who smiles as well. "Do not weep, good dwarf," he says. "Instead rejoice, for we, the Knights of Bretonnia, will be your shield."
As Borek begins to pour forth a profusion of gratitude to the Bretonnian monarch and gold changes hands between Snorri and Gotrek again, you sigh and cradle your face in your hands. If you never had to hear those words again it would still be too soon.
I had a dream a lot like this last night, though that was less loopy and more melancholy and dramatic. It was from Borek's perspective, I think, but I'm too loopy from sleepiness myself at the moment to write that so you get this instead. My apologies and good night.