Chapter 23

Malekiths Tower, Naggarond, later at the same day

The fingers which rapped on the armrests of the throne made sounds which one would
normally expect from pieces of old oak capped with iron claws. Having lived for
such a long time and having wielded the powers of the warp on such a scale had
changed Malekith`s body and mind in ways which would give a German scientist reason
to question his minds capabilities.
The rap of the fingers would with anybody else be an unconscious sign of unease or
unrest-with the Witch King it was one carefully used tool of many to influence his
opponents. It sent shivers down the spines of his advisors and guards who watched
the negotiations their liege was conducting with this strange and arrogant German.

It was a sign of the interesting new days that the mercenary was still able to
kneel in front of their lord without being rendered to parts.
Claus Tolles had never been able to feel empathy with any human-this trait made him
so effective as a leader and as a sociopath. His current opponent was different-so
full of pent up emotions of hatred, disgust and the need to kill accumulated over
so many milenia-all held in check by an indomitable willower-that these emotions
made it across whatever barrier normally shielded Claus from others feelings.
That he was perfectly aware that he was walking a tightrope, always in the danger
of being killed or worse may have helped with that but at the same time he felt as
alive and aware as never before. Malekith the Witch King was the most interesting,
frightening and intense being that he had ever met and this meeting brought the
magnitude and the danger of the enterprise he had embarked upon into sharp focus.

"To sum it up your highness: We offer you the services of a technical and science
team to lift up your capabilities. We can help you to mine raw materials
inaccessible to you presently, help you to transport goods faster and more
efficiently. We can build up your manufactories and produce weapons of great power.
We can help you raise and equip new kinds of troops and when combined with our
heavy weapons company they will make a powerful tool to smash your enemies."
"Can you help us to defend against your countrymen as well?" This question made
Claus freeze-the answer might we unleash all the pent up emotions in his direction
with terrible results. Still with somebody who for such a long time had ruled the
most competitive society on this world only something close to the truth would do.
"Your highness, the gap in technology, science and industry is so great that even
with our help I cannot see the Druchii in a position to challenge Germany for a 100
years or more."
Everybody in the room waited with baited breath for the explosion which was sure to
come after such a blatant statement of Elf incompetence. The silence was so
absolute that Claus could hear the beating of his heart like a drum.
Makekiths voice was low and hoarse with the effort of control. "Are you sure about
that"

"Yes my Lord, I can show you proof of that later which will…"
"Yes, I am sure you would…So a hundred years you say…at least"

"Yes my Lord"
"That is …..acceptable" The rest of the room learned to breathe again.

"Putting Germany in it`s place is a task for the future-we have more pressing
concerns now. Your erstwhile countryman in their arrogance have changed the balance
of power of this world in many ways like children who throw their toys about in a
tantrum. When they showed the Norsca that raiding Germany is not a good idea, and
when they even kept them from the Empire they made them look for new targets. Some
of the Hung feel the pressure too. And the Druchii which inhabit the countryside
have come to feel the leash of their leaders more strongly now that we have ceased
the internal battles between the Druchii cities and resent it. On top of that Chaos
warriors search for an altar that their "Everchosen" has visited some time before."

"So as you can see there is enough to do for an army-or two or three. I have these
armies-but I have other goals for them in mind. So young Claus, son of Tolles here
is something where you can prove yourself. There is a horde of Hung to the west of
Naggarond which gives my Guard a hard time. Help them to annihilate the Slanesh-
lovers and you will prove the worth of your services."
"Yes your highness"
"One more thing-I hear that you have brought a true elven captive from Germany"
"Yes my lord, one Jasla. She has agreed to work with us for the time being."
"That is agreeable to me-but she will have to talk to one of my aides before you go
off to prove yourself."
"I will arrange for that Highness"
"Good. And now I believe you wanted to show me some proof of the German
"invincibility"
"Yes my Lord. If you allow me to start my computer I can show you some videos which
might be of interest."

An hour later Malekith needed every shred of self-control he had learned in 5

Millennia to suppress the shivers which would indicate the unpardonable weakness of
fear to the other true Elves in the room. He just watched the "End Credits" of
magically moving pictures about something called "The Manhattan Project".

Great Forest, between Middenheim and Quarry

Garek Brightfur was purposefully striding forward, leading his retinue in their
march through the forest. As his warherd had increased in size beyond his fondest
dreams and now even sported members of Chaos armies it had gone far above the
abilities of any single piece of forest to feed and house his Children of Chaos. It
had become necessary to move to less hunted stretches of wood periodically-nothing
new to the Beastmen for whom this was their way of life. It was one of the things
which made them so hard to fight-you could not storm their castles, burn their
crops or kill their farmers as there were none. Against the Children of Chaos
humans could only hope not to loose-but never aspire to win in the long run.

Garek was taken up with the rhythm of a long march so he was a little surprised
when the scouts he had sent ahead wanted his attention. What they had to tell him
was so outlandish that he could not believe it but they kept telling the same thing
again even while he savored the bone marrow of the first liar. At last he took the
risk of looking like a fool and went himself.
His huge strides took him to the place which had so impressed his scouts quickly
enough and he found they had been right from the start. A part of the forest where
months ago had been a fertile valley with age old trees now a strange clearing
divided the eternal woods. Nearly 200 meters across it showed only grassland and a
low long mound in the middle which had two metal rails and lots of wooden supports
in the middle.
Garek needed no analysis or environmental impact statement to know whatever had
caused this was a direct threat to him and his people like nothing before.
His scream could be heard for miles and promised bloody death to anybody and
anything connected to this deed.

Great Forest, Clearing close to the rail line, late at night

The Homunculi which held up the magic mirror in front of Garek should have been
immune to fear-but even they quailed at the sheer anger which radiated off the
Doombull.
"What do you mean you know off this outrage-why did you not tell me about it. And
what is more-what do we do about it."
Harbinger, the General of Chaos who`s likeness was shown in the mirror projected a
far cooler air "The outrage that you mean is called a railroad by the humans. They
use them to bring humans and goods to far places quickly. As they have no bearing
on our current plans we did not tell you about this-there was no need for you to
know."
"You arrogant cur-if the humans make more of these railroads they reduce the space
for my herds more and more. Soon we will be running around like animals in a cage.
And if the humans can bring people around with this quickly it gets even worse-this
could be the end of my kind in the Great Forest-it will be the end of the Great
Forest as we know it"
"Be that as this may-your target-our target is Middenheim. This city must fall and
the eternal flame must be extinguished – that will bring an end to the Empire of
Sigmar and will usher the Age of Chaos. It has been written in the Stars and so it
shall be"
"So you believe Sorcerer-and so you want me to believe. But what if you are wrong
and it is just one more city you lay siege to and devastate. What if this is
another City the humans build up time after time and it does NOT bring the end
times-then what? My herd will be exhausted by the battle but our refuge will become
smaller and smaller every year and what will you do about THAT?"
"I think I just heard wrong-I thought you wanted to deny my orders and challenge
the plans of Archaron"
"Help me to lay waste to this "Railroad" and those who build and run it-that will
help the Siege of Middenheim as well"
"You stupid animal –you want to change the Plans of Archaron the Everchosen
himself. He is the anointed of all 4 Chaos Gods-and you want to tell him "I do not
like your plans-I have a much better one?" You want to tell him "Thanks for the
gift of weapons and the services of your advisors, the training which lifted some
of mine a little bit from the lower levels of ignorance but now I want to do a
different thing because I think it I better for me, surely you will understand dear
Archaron? You do not even know to which height of arrogance you have raised
yourself and not the slightest inkling of the punishments which await you if…."

The mirror went into many colorful shards when Gareks Axe met it. The Sorcerer who
had maintained the spell screamed in pain upon this destruction and without thought
aimed his staff at the Doombull. The black lightning which emerged might have
struck Garek to the ground but was deflected in midair. The mage looked around in
confusion until he saw Arok, the herd´s shaman. Just a few weeks ago he would not
have been able to do anything like this, and certainly not with such apparent ease.
The Shaman looked at him and just smiled, making sparse gestures with a mauled
hand.
At first the mage could not find any effect but smelled the odor of burned meat.
His already burned nerves took too long to tell him the story-he was fully aflame
already when he realized what had been done to him far too late to do anything
about it.

Castle Wolfenfels, several days later

Lt. Hermann genuinely liked the view from the Donjon of the Castle-it showed miles
and miles of rolling Forrest, fields and the occasional bare Mountaintop. It was
high and windy enough to shield him from the eternal smells of manure and urine, of
offal and unwashed humanity which suffused most of the castle. As the Donjon was
off-limits to most denizens of the castle he could also enjoy a little bit of
privacy. He had brought up his trusty e-book reader in order to read a little more
in the book he had meant to finish since quite some time now. Finding a less windy
corner he realized that he was not alone but in the company of Ermine.

This did not give him pause-he had met her up here often enough-but the paperback
Ermine had on her knees together with a page she kept writing notes on did. It was
definitively some German book he could not place.
"Greetings Damsel, I am blessed to be in your company."
"Likewise Lieutenant, a nice day for reading, isn´t it?"
"Yes it is. May I inquire what you are studying there?" "
Ah, this-this was given to me by Nathan-I mean Lieutenant Alpers. He is such a nice
guy and knows so many books. He brought me some when he stayed last Bäckertag. This
one is "A short history of nearly everything"-he meant that would give me a
condensed view on how you look at the world. It is very hard to understand but
rewarding-in your eyes the world is such a different place."
"Err yes, I would imagine so. You picked a real challenge there-if you need any
help please give me a note."
"If the necessity arises I will avail myself of your services, Lieutenant."
Ernst picked a bench not far from the heiress but away enough to signal that
nothing inappropriate was happening before switching on his reader. "Nathan he is
already? Better keep an eye on that" read the mental note the soldier made to
himself before losing himself in fiction about a world which was gone from him
forever.

Great Forrest, Herdstone, 2 Weeks Later Sigmarstag

Garek watched another "hunt" by Arok. The Shaman had promised him the best magical
help he could wish for-as long as Garek provided Arok with the means. As he had
less magical helpers now-a few of the Chaos sorcerers Harbinger had provided had
preferred continued service to Garek over being digested but were not trusted-Garek
had few choice but to agree.
The Shaman had led the ritual of summoning the Great herd in a way never seen
before with the smoke of the scared herbs brunt in the fire rising in a green
lighted column which could be seen for miles and miles. Ever since then herd after
herd arrived and had added their numbers to Gareks forces into a warherd like the
world had never seen. Garek knew no word for the number of Beastmen which had
arrived and still continued-but it was enormous.
Simply to keep some semblance was a major work and he knew that he had to move
soon, otherwise the horde he had concentrated would be unable to find food-but that
fit in his plans very well. Arok had informed him that his former liege was on the
march to meet him-and he doubted that Harbinger had a friendly chat in mind.

The newcomers had knelt down in supplication to him and waited for him to continue
but they would have to wait for a while longer. Two of Aroks helpers we making the
rounds, holding strings with what seemed to be mummified fingers at their ends.
These devices from time to time pointed at some Beastmen, and the aides pulled
these Children of Chaos out of the ranks. When asked what they did they stated
there were sniffing out the witches-which did not give any real information to
anybody. What was sure that nobody ever saw the Beastmen again which had been
"sniffed out". As Garek was sure that the Shaman was among other things eliminating
potential troublemakers he did not plan to interfere.

The Steppe west of Naggarond, 2 weeks later, Koenigstag

Khan Ogulai woke up from the need to relieve himself of the results of yesterday`s
wine, Kumis and drugs. Scratching his nether regions he went to the tent which had
been erected next to his own. Donning his padding, light armor and weapons before
anything else without any conscious thought he stepped out into the daylight. The
business about the relief done he watched the slaves arranging a breakfast for
himself and his entourage. Taking a look around to pass the time till then he
stepped around some tents to have a look at the latest captives his horde had
managed to gather.

The small group of Druchii warriors and hags and been arranged in contraptions
combining the functions of sitting stocks with short stakes driven into the lower
parts of the captives anatomies. Long experience with such things had allowed the
Hung to place the stakes so that the maximum length of suffering could be achieved.
Taking a second look the Khan found his personal theory validated: All Hags had
already passed. While rather tough in combat they folded once the drugs they used
went out of the system. The rest of the Druchii would probably last till the
evening, then sepsis and shock should finish them. If not his warriors would do as
the Horde had to move again-staying still in enemy territory only asked for
problems.

The sight of the Hordes victims pushed his thoughts into another track: How lucky
he was to raid in the Lands of Naggaroth. The Empire´s eastern provinces were no
longer the ripe fruit to pick it once was, and the thought to go into "Deutschland"
gave him shivers. Not that it would have been easy to traverse the Empire first.
Ogulai scoffed at the Clans which had begun to trade with the nations of the Old
World. Deutschland and the Empire maybe were too hard a nut, but nations like
Kislev or the border Princes were still tasty and easy. But that was something for
the Clans there. He, Ogulai, was happy where he raided. Naggaroth was an old
stomping ground for the Hung and their method of warfare suited this environment
just fine.

While they could not attack their cities directly they could raid the farms and
mines, the convoys, caravans, messengers and whatever else suited their fancy. They
could not directly withstand an attack by a strong Druchii cavalry force or
infantry but they could outride the infantry. And the oh-so-noble Elf horses could
not live on the sparse grasses of the Naggaroth Steppes nor their riders on the
foot you can carry on the hoof, so with good scouting one could outdistance them as
well.
So whenever the Druchii amassed their forces they faded away, attacking isolated
outposts and supply caravans, when the Elves split up or became tired they
attacked. As long as Ogulai made no terrible mistake he could not really loose and
just living like this counted as win for him. The damn Spitzohren had taken Hung
slaves long enough-let them see how the boot would fit on the other foot.

Ogulai`s musings were interrupted by a strange sound-a little bit like the crack of
a whip. It seemed muted, like coming off a distance. Pushing through the crowd to
see what may cause the disturbance he could see the several riders which were
pushing their ponies at full gallop to the Hung camp. While he was looking for the
cause of their wild ride another of the cracking sounds could be heard and a rider
dropped from his mount like a puppet bereft of its strings.
The Khan needed no more prompting to have the host assembled. He was finally on his
horse and surrounded by his guard when the last of the rider was killed. From
approximately the same direction the killed patrol had taken a cloud of smoke moved
towards the Hung encampment. Leaving a guard the Khan moved his riders out of the
camp into several broad groups of riders between whatever was closing on them and
the camp. Lifting a viewing glass he had traded from some Araby caravan he had a
closer look.

The cloud resolved itself into 3 vehicles of a kind nobody had ever seen before,
all driving quickly enough that they trailed long dust clouds behind them. The
Vehicles had 4 wheels, had an enclosed front and an open-topped boarded enclosure
in the back. They had no horses to draw them nor any other visible means of drive-
must be something magic. In the backside enclosure men were holding on to keep
inside their strange chariots during the fast drive. Suddenly all vehicles stopped
and turned their backs towards the camp at a distance of 800 meters. The crew in
the back of the vehicles gathered about slim looking cannons which were in the
middle of the enclosures.
When the vehicles stopped he heard some strange noise over the sounds they made
when they drove-he could not remember hearing anything like that ever before-could
it be music?
When he was still thinking how to attack these apparitions lights started to blink
at the muzzles of the weapons and men started to drop from the saddles-no choice
now, the only way was a full out attack.

Unimog Truck, Battlefield west of Naggarond, same day

Claus Tolles just knew that he should not man a heavy machine gun and shoot at
barbarians but stand back and keep the big picture in mind-it was too much fun not
to do. The NSV machine gun he used had quite a kick and Rate of Fire so he had to
keep firing to short bursts. He mostly managed to keep his enthusiasm at bay long
enough to do so.
The results were satisfying enough-the Russian 0,50" NSV machine gun did not just
kill its targets-the energy transferred was usually great enough to blow off limbs
and disintegrate heads. The rounds penetrated the Hung Ponies the long way and
bullets that "just" hit a human torso often enough took more lives before their
flight path terminated. Still the pauses between bursts and the need to keep the
machine guns supplied with ammo meant that the losses were not overwhelming to the
Hung-for now.

In the other Unimog and the Mercedes "G" Model that accompanied him lighter machine
guns also fired on the approaching horde. Claus was happy to see that the Hung were
not retreating, that would have taken his targets away. Wolfgang Böhler who besides
him worked his magic tapped his shoulder in one of the breaks between bursts. "500
meters Boss"
"You are right-time to skedaddle." A short command by wireless made all 3 light
trucks drive back the way they came, building up the distance to the approaching
horde again. His trucks could drive 60-80 km/h on this kind of Steppe, far faster
than the Hung could follow. After roughly 2 Kilometers of a jarring ride the Hung
had fallen back enough that another stop-and-shoot was possible.

Wolfgang Böhler was having a professional dream come true-as many targets as he
ever wished, a willing foe that was not too dangerous and all the excitement one
could stand. For this job he had exchanged his trusty Mauser rifle with a Dragunov.
At the distances this battle was going it was good enough and with so many targets
he appreciated the self-loading mechanism which allowed him to keep his targets in
sight between shots.
He was not even the slightest distracted by the music that shrilled out of totally
overloaded speakers on all 3 trucks-he actually liked it. It reminded him of a lot
of evenings in front of the TV. He could not remember any text, but the intro music
of "The A-Team" was distinctive enough without that.
Not that he took any target-the machine gunners could kill more quickly than he
did-but he was looking for special victims and eliminated them as fast as possible.
The fun lasted only for a little more than a minute before he had to stow the rifle
again and hold on for dear life. Another dash brought them more time for shooting
and Wolfgang started to admire the Hung for tenacity-not necessarily for brains.
When that "mad minute" was over the retreat resumed, but now the terrain was a
rougher, so the speed was lower and the bounces became worse. After a particularly
nasty bounce Wolfgang heared a "bang", smoke issued from the back of his truck and
the speed reduced markedly. The jarring ride was so bad that he hardly could
formulate the thought "What-so soon?"

Khan Ogulai was at a loss-never had he fought a battle such as this. He was hunting
a fleeting foe which was always a little bit too fast to be caught. And while the
hunt was exciting-there are few more exhilarating experiences than riding a horse
at full gallop in a large group-it was costly. Whenever these cursed chariots
stopped they rained death on his warriors. He wanted these attackers alive so he
could use them to teach a lesson-they would beg just to be impaled. He wanted these
Chariots-if he could make them work it would increase the might of his horde, he
was tempted to use one for his personal use. And most of all he wanted the weapons
that were used on his Clansmen with such effect. He wanted it so much that he could
taste it-and he needed it. If he did not obtain at least some of these his tribe
might wonder why the battle did cost so much for so little gain.

He was already wondering if the enemy was going to run forever when luck finally
favored him. One of the chariots went over a bolder with a mighty crash. After that
it started to emit smoke from the back end and it ran a lot slower and more
erratically. Its fellow Chariots ran straight ahead, abandoning the stricken one to
the mercy of the mighty Hung. He bent a little lower in the saddle and kicked his
pony to an even higher speed when a thought hit him like a spear: He was being
goaded. The enemy was using one of the favorite tactics of the Hung against him.
His people were experts in feigned retreats which lured the enemy into traps-and
here he was being led by his nose like a rookie. He looked around for his
messengers-his tribe relied a lot on flag and horn signals for command in the
field-just to find to his utter horror that a lot of the banner bearers and
officers had already been killed. If he gave the order now only a part of the horde
would comply-the rest going into whatever trap the enemy laid piecemeal.

With sinking stomach he realized that there were no good solutions for this
problems, only bad ones when he saw something on the little hill that his rider
were just passing. Before he could make sense of that several places on that Hill
erupted into flame and dust, with beads of fast moving light reaching out to his
flank. Wherever they hit riders toppled from their mounts, horses collapsed in bad
ways-and it happened so fast. Whoever had his lair in this hill was wrecking a
fearful slaughter in an incredibly short time. No choice left now, the host to
evade. He gave the signal to go left-away from the hill which so suddenly became
deadly and away from the truck. As he had feared some units got the order and tried
to comply-some did not. Even under the best circumstances this would have been the
start of a major clusterfuck-under fire it was worse.
Just to add insult to the injury the chariot he had been following dropped
something smoking from his back and sped off to join its comrades who were circling
closer. And behind his warriors a black line moving toward him spoke of a different
kind of doom to catch up with him.

Silvar Bloodcrest did not pray much-he knew that Khaine valued deeds, not words.
But when he prayed he prayed for this-a gaggle of disorganized light cavalry in
front of him, him on his favorite horse with a good lance in his hand and in
command of a good unit of heavy cavalry-and here he was. He screamed with the joy
running through his veins and signaled for his unit to go for full gallop. His
horses were the finest that true elvenkind could provide: fast, aggressive to a
fault and still able to carry a warrior in full armor and partial armor for itself.
Even without the armor they weighted half again or more than the puny rides of the
Hung and still at a sprint they were at least as fast as they were. His men had
long lances which could reach easily past the sabers and other melee weapons the
Clansmen wielded and heavy armor which would turn most hits the enemy might still
land. The only problem for heavy cavalry normally was to catch their lighter
opponents and here they were neatly served on a platter.

On the last meters before the crash all thoughts of commanding his units faded and
only his small part of the battle counted. He tasted metal in his mouth and his
vision concentrated until only the nomad he picked as his target remained in it.
Time seemed to slow to a trickle and he had as much of it as he needed to aim his
lance squarely at the chest of his enemy while he bent forward even more to prepare
for the impact. The lance, driven by the nearly half-ton of him and his horse at
more than 30 km/h penetrated the armor and chest of the Hung with ease and his pony
was pushed aside by his steed with such force that it collapsed. Releasing his
struck lance he pulled his sword but was through the enemy before he could make
much use. He slowed his horse long enough so that other Druchii warriors could join
him before charging in again. There were enemies to slay, glory to be won and a god
to please-forward.
Half an hour later he was getting his breath back and cleaning off his sword when
one of these horseless chariots the humans used was approaching. It showed the
black flag the Germans sported-why the leader showed nothing more flamboyant was
beyond him.
From the chariot rose the German "Claus" who wore what could only be described as a
shit eating grin.
"Hail Silvar Bloodcrest-your chief bait is reporting back." The Elf bit back a
stinging reply-mercenaries had a very low rung on the totem pole as far as Druchii
were concerned-but this one seemed to have the ear of Malekith himself. How else
could the Witch King agree to a totally amateurish plan which relied so much on the
enemy behaving just like you wanted him to behave. Much too complicated and relying
too much on coordinated movements by different units involved in the attack.
Granted, the talking machines the Germans had provided helped with the latter part,
but nothing ever went totally right on the battlefield. That it mostly had this
time would make the Mercenary even more insufferable-but so much deeper would be
his fall.
"Welcome back Claus, Son of Tolles. Seems that you avoided the usual fate of bait-
congratulations."
"We did a little more than survive and run-you will see on the way to the Hung
camp."
"Are you ready to move?"
"Ready and willing"
"Then move-we will be on our way as well"

On the way to the camp Silvar Bloodcrest wondered at first what this Claus meant,
until he found the first gaggle of slain Hung. From there several fields full of
fallen enemy attested that the Germans had fought a battle of their own-and killed
much more than their fair share of the Hung. Silvar Bloodcrest became the second
leader on that day who desired the German weapons with an intensity he could taste.

Close to Hung Camp, west of Naggarond, later in the evening

Jasla looked over the rim of her hastily dug hole to the Hung camp. Her view showed
the same dead Hung from the last two sallies who found that you cannot storm
machine guns and the smoke from the camp from the shells the Germans had lobbed
inside. Nothing of importance had changed during the last hour she had spent
watching the winds of magic for another attack by the surviving Hung shamans.
She needed to take a short rest before resuming her meditation. Having nothing
better to do then drink some vinegar-laced water and chew on some jerky allowed her
mind to wander back to the time she spent in Naggarond.

It had been during her third hour of the interrogation by some of Malekiths
military and magic advisors that he had entered the room unannounced.
At first he had not addressed her in any way, just walked around her without any
word, looking at her-looking inside her. His presence was such that she was no
longer aware of the room she was in or the other Druchii in it-her perception was
totally dominated by the Witch King. She knew from the start that Malekith could
sense her connections with Slanesh. Such things were more acceptable in Hag Graef-
but this was the Witch Kings personal domain. Even on the Battlefield she had never
felt deaths cold breath more than then.

"Eyes and Ears Jasla-this is what you are to me-my eyes and ears. For the time
being serve the Germans to the best of your abilities-all of your abilities. And
report to me about their doings, their plans, their motivation, their knowledge-
everything. Do this well and I might accept your existence a little longer"
"My Lord I…."
"Hush little one who thinks so little of my edicts-there is no need to speak any
more-I teach in different ways" The exceedingly sharp claws which posed at his
fingernails had pierced the skin at her neck with such ease and had touched the
nerves just outside her spine-even some inside it- which connected her brain with
her body. The sensations he had send down these nerves were so excruciating as
nothing else she had ever felt in her life. Unbearable pain, overwhelming nausea
and forced lust without relief had been artfully composed into an overwhelming
whole which had burned the task Malekith had given her into her mind in indelible
ways. He went from the chamber without ever addressing her again-it was not
necessary as he knew she would comply with his orders-she had literally no other
choice now as his orders were as much a part of her as her heart.

Jasla pulled back from this memory with a conscious effort-it was no use to dwell
on this and would only add to the harm done to her. A much nicer topic for her
thoughts would be Petra, her new pet. Educating the former student was so much fun.
At first the German had thought she had known what proper submission would mean-
until she had shown her for real. She could have broken Petra`s newfound resistance
much quicker-but doing it slowly and by degrees was so much more exciting.
And one of the Germans had lent her such interesting new tools-all he wanted was to
watch. Of course being exposed in such a way had added to the slave's education and
had given her some traction with the German chemist. Feeling much better from these
memories she allowed herself another glimpse over the rim of her cover-nothing had
changed again, just the stored heat of the soil was causing more of a heat
distortion…..what.

A view through the empyrean at the same spot revealed the truth of the matter-the
Hung shamans had woven together a clever disguise for their advancing troops. "Got
you, you bleeders-and now you pay" Luckily for her unraveling such a spell was far
easier than maintaining it-a quick attack on one of the shamans destroyed the
harmony between them that the spell needed. Suddenly exposed to the sights of
Druchii and Germans the Hung warriors accelerated their advance to their besiegers.
She was about to shout a warning when several machine guns opened fire. By the time
the few remnants of this assault reached the Druchii lines there was no question of
it ever succeeding.

Castle Ringo-jo, Ringomori, Nanseitochi

Ringomori, roughly translated as Apple Forest, was one of the cities closest to the
German border in the Nipponese splinter. German territory was actually in sightline
from the Castle towers and that closeness was both a boon and a burden. Being so
near to Germany brought new things, ideas and tech fast and early, but at the same
time the city now had lots of transit traffic deeper into Nanseitochi.
Tourism, commerce and new connections had made the city swell in numbers and size.
With 200,000 inhabitants Ringomori was now the largest city in the region, the next
larger German city was the 70 kilometres distant Karlsruhe. Ringomori was not the
only city growing, two other important ones were Kagoshima and Ryodate, but as
said, in the northwestern part Ringomori was the largest.
Alto and Kasumi Hegiwara were the Daimyo couple. By Warhammer standards, they were
good overlords, but the situation since the Weltensprung was anything but easy for
them. Old recipes did not work well on such unusual problems this new time brought.
It was simple chance, that two of the "Warhammer experts" of the German government
were born and raised not that far away, in the Kaiserslautern region. Both experts
saw the potential of the relative nearness of a big Nipponese city. Kaiserslautern
and several small cities and towns were positioned on the most important railway
line in the region. On advice by the two experts, city and district of
Kaiserslautern championed a new direct railway to Ringomori. Outpacing other
districts, Kaiserslautern dixtrict had bought up enough land to the border to make
a new railway possible. And despite the anger of some districts, the new line was
already under construction. Normally this would not have been the case, since there
were existing tracks which could have been lengthened, but political and economical
calculations had helped here.
And to give their homedistrict an advantage, the two experts Koch and Ruhdorfer,
went to Ringomori often to build up a functioning relationship of the city and area
not so much with the directly bordering districts, but their home. On their advice,
Daimyo Hegiwara began to build up a larger tourism infrastructure and strengthening
the local artisans and small manufactories.
Both the Daimyo and his wife were really talented for drawing, which led the two
german provisory advisors to propose a bold idea. In addition to their traditional
paintings, caligraphy and other things, would they like to try out Manga?
Germany had lost the source of most Mangas in the Weltensprung, but with the
distant cousins of the Japanese available...
At first, Markus and Günter, had to do some convincing, but they succeeded. The
Hegiwaras tried it out and found it pleasing. Now, more than one and a half year
after the Weltensprung, Ringomori was the first Manga hotspot on the WH-world.
Ringo-jo was a big castle, so in one of the many buildings, 27 drawers and painters
produced the first Warhammer world Mangas. At times, the Hegiwaras would make some
of their own together with the other artisans. New science-fiction mangas were
still a time away, but traditional stories and stories about the world after the
Weltensprung became a hit.