Warhammer - Gotrek & Felix 05 - Beastslayer.pdf - Gotrek i Felix - seithe

BEASTSLAYER

Gotrek & Felix - 05

William King

“Our battle with the dragon Skjalandir left me incapacitated for many days. The events

of the particular few weeks that follow it are mercifully vague. I know we brought word of the

arrival of the Chaos horde to the Tzarina of Kislev. I know we flew on to the city of Praag

where my companion and his dwarf compatriots thought they would meet their dooms. I know

we were welcomed in the City of Heroes by the duke himself, who turned out to be a distant

cousin of my fair companion, Ulrika. Of the detail of these matters, however, I remember very

little, possibly because they are overwhelmed in my memory by the apocalyptic events that

were to follow them.

“What happened in those following weeks caused me to plumb new depths of horror and

despair. In my entire long and sorry career as the Trollslayer’s amanuensis, I have found

myself in few more desperate places. Even today, I shudder when I recall the madness and

turmoil of those dreadful days…”

—From My Travels With Gotrek, Vol IV

by Herr Felix Jaeger (Altdorf Press, 2505)

ONE

Felix Jaeger looked northwards from the gate tower high above the outer wall of Praag. As if

for reassurance, his hands rested atop the carved head of one of the huge sculptures that gave the

Gate of Gargoyles its name. From his high vantage point, he had a perfectly clear view for leagues.

Only the long snaky curve of the river looping off to the west broke the monotony of the endless

plains surrounding the city.

In the distance he could see the smoke of burning villages. It was war coming closer and it

would reach the city in less than a day. He shivered and drew his tattered red cloak around his tall,

lean form although it was not cold yet. If truth be told it was unnaturally hot. These last days of

autumn had been warmer in Kislev than many a summer in his homeland, the Empire.

It was the first time in his life he had ever prayed for the onset of snow. Winter was deadly

here, an untiring ally who slaughtered the foes of Kislev, or so the locals claimed. Lord Winter was

their greatest general, worth a legion of armed men. He wondered whether he would live to see

winter’s arrival. Even Lord Winter might prove powerless against the Chaos warriors and their evil

magic.

The warriors of the advancing army out there were not mere mortals, but worshippers of Chaos

fresh from the Northern Wastes.

Of all the foolish things he had done in his career as Gotrek Gurnisson’s henchman, putting

himself in the way of the armies of the Dark Powers was conceivably the most foolish.

Felix had barely recovered from wounds taken in the battle with the dragon Skjalandir, and the

orcish armies that had tried to take the dragon’s treasure. The wizard Max Schreiber had healed him

and had done the work well, but still Felix was not sure that he felt as strong as he had before. He

hoped he could wield his sword with his customary skill when the Chaos warriors came. He would

need to. If he could not, he would die. Most likely he would die anyway. The black-armoured riders

and their brutal followers were not famous for their mercy. They were unrelentingly savage and

lived only to kill and conquer in the name of the daemonic powers they worshipped. Even the

massively thick walls of Praag would not hold them back for long. If those wicked warriors failed,

then the dark magic of their sorcerous allies would surely succeed.

Not for the first time, Felix wondered exactly what he was doing here, standing on the chilly

walls of a fortified city, hundreds of leagues from home. He could be in Altdorf right now, sitting in

the offices of the family business, haggling with wool traders and counting gold. Instead he was

readying himself to face the greatest invasion the world had seen in two hundred years, since the

time when Magnus the Pious had driven back the legions of the damned, and reunited the Empire.

He glanced over at his companion.

As ever it was impossible to tell what the Slayer was thinking. The dwarf looked even more

brutish and sullen than usual. He was short, the tip of the crest of red-dyed hair that rose above his

tattooed and shaven head barely reached Felix’s chest, but he was more than twice as broad as the

man. In one hand he held an axe that Felix would have struggled to lift with both his hands, and

Felix was a strong man. The Slayer shook his head, and the gold chain that ran from ear to nostril

jingled. He knuckled the patch that covered his empty eye socket, and spat over the wall.

“They will be here by nightfall, manling,” said Gotrek. “Or my father was an orc.”

“You think so? The scouts say they are burning the villages as they come. Surely so great a

horde could not move so quickly?”

Felix had a better idea of the size of the horde than almost any man in Kislev. He had flown

over it in the airship, Spirit of Grungni, when he and the Slayer and their dwarf companions had

returned from the lost city of Karag Dum. It seemed half a lifetime ago but was scant months in the

past. Felix shook his head, amazed at how much his life had changed in that month, more than at

any time since he had sworn his oath to follow the Slayer and record his doom in an epic poem.

In that time, he had ridden in a flying ship, visited a buried dwarf city in the blighted wastes of

Chaos, fought with daemons, and dragons and ores and beastmen. He had fallen in love and pursued

a troubled affair with the Kislevite noblewoman Ulrika Magdova. He had almost died of wounds.

He had journeyed to the court of the Ice Queen, the Tzarina Katarin, bringing word of the enemy

army to that fearsome ruler, and then he had come here with Gotrek and the others to help resist the

invasion. It seemed as if he had barely time to catch his breath, and now he was caught up in a full-

scale war with the assembled powers of Darkness.

He wondered again at his reasons for being here. Certainly he still held to his oath to Gotrek.

And Ulrika was here, waiting to see if her father and his men would make it to Praag before the

Chaos horde. Felix knew she was going to be disappointed there.

He brushed a lock of long blond hair from his eyes, then shielded them with his hand. In the

distance he thought he could make out flashes of eerie red and gold light. Sorcery, he thought. The

daemon worshippers are using their forbidden magic. He shivered again, thinking that perhaps it

would be better to be in the counting house back in Altdorf.

He could not quite bring himself to believe it though. He knew he had become accustomed to a

life of adventure. Even before his travels with Gotrek, life in the capital had seemed unbearably dull.

He knew that no matter how often he thought a little dullness might improve his life, he could not go

back to being what he had once been. Not that there was much chance of that anyway. He was in

disgrace for killing a fellow student at the university in a duel. And he and Gotrek were wanted by

the law for their part in the window tax riots.

“Do you think that the Kislevites are the only ones who have scouts, manling?” Gotrek asked.

The Chaos warriors will have outriders too. Not even they are mad enough to ride without them.

They will be here soon.”

Felix did not like to speculate on what the followers of the Dark Powers were mad enough to

do. To him it seemed madness enough to want to worship daemons anyway. Who could tell what

else they were capable of? On the other hand, when it came to making war, it did not matter how

crazed they were. They were as deadly as any other army, far more so than most. In this, the Slayer

was most likely right. He said so. Gotrek sucked his blackened teeth.

“Tis late in the year for an army to be marching,” he said. The warlords must be confident they

can take Praag before winter sets in. Either that or they don’t care.”

“Thanks,” said Felix sourly. “Always look at the bright side, don’t you?”

Gotrek cocked his head to one side, and spat over the wall. “They must be planning some

trick.”

“Maybe they have magic. Maybe the prophets of doom back there in the city are right. Maybe

winter will not come this year. It is unseasonably warm.”

The words came out quickly and with less calm than he would have liked. He knew he was

half hoping the Slayer would contradict him. After all, the dwarf had more experience of this than

he did.

Gotrek grinned, showing the blackened stumps of most of his teeth. “Now who is looking on

the bright side, manling?”

Sombre silence fell between them. Felix scanned the horizon. Dust and smoke clouds

continued to rise. Way off in the distance, he could swear he heard the sound of horns, the clash of

weapons, the screams of dying men. Only your imagination, he told himself.

Down below them, workers slaved away driving more sharpened stakes into the great pit that

now lined the base of the walls. Behind them, more labourers reinforced the outer wall of the city

Warhammer - Gotrek & Felix 05 - Beastslayer.pdf

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