Warhammer: After the Storm IC - Fantasy | Sufficient Velocity [https://w0.peakpx.com/wallpaper/671/416/HD-wallpaper-epic-castle-siege-warriors-fantasy-medieval-siege-abstract-castle.jpg]

https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/warhammer-after-the-storm.116262/

…Waking up to the strange sound of silence, Walter blinked his eyes open, and found himself in an empty room. Its stone walls were bare of any ornaments, he could see a chair beside him, and on the floor was a pallet made up of hay.

Rocked by aches and pains from the past few days, he took a moment to breathe in through gritted teeth, until finally the pain receded. It was then that he sat up suddenly as everything that had occurred crashed down on him. His father had been a soldier in Lamar’s army. The sorcerer had summoned an army of undead to besiege the castle, and he had joined Lord Huxelberry’s guard. The last of which filled him with immense shame at how he must have looked being carried in by his father.

With that thought in mind, he wondered where his Pa was, when he heard footsteps outside the doorway. Slowly creaking open, he felt his despair lift as he saw his mother in the doorway. Dressed in a long white gown with a wimple to cover her hair. She had wrinkles around her light blue eyes, wore a necklace with a chalice around her neck, and had long brown hair that she tucked away.

Smiling with relief when she saw that Walter was awake, she rushed over to his side, and laid down the tray she had been carrying. “Walter, you foolish boy, you’re finally awake! Your father and I have been sick with worry.” Her lips then formed into a frown. “Your father has told me you joined Huxelberry’s guard. What were you thinking, boy? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

Relieved as well at seeing that she was alive and well, Walter endured her fussing over him, before he asked, “Where are we?”

Her eyes lighting up, Larissa spoke in a hushed voice as if unable to believe it herself. “By the grace of Lord Huxelberry he has invited us to stay here in the inner keep.”

Half shocked as he realized that he must be in the servant’s quarters, he had no time to think about this sudden turn of events, when the sounds of battle erupted once more. The cacophony of cannons that let loose on the battlements, interspersed with guns firing, and voices barking out orders as Walter tried to stand up on wobbly feet.

Helped up by his mother, he limped over towards the window, and looked out to see the entire stronghold carpeted by thousands upon thousands of undead warriors in cobbled together pieces of armor. Carrying more of those strange red banners, he couldn’t help but shiver as he saw the smoking ruins of his home. Saints, how long had he been asleep? And what were they supposed to do now?

Jolted from his thoughts by the sound of more footsteps, he looked back to see Frederick.

A little worse for wear with rumples in his uniform, he immediately smiled at seeing Walter. “Walter, you’re finally awake! That's great news! Come on, I was supposed to bring you to the Sergeant once you were on your feet again.”

But before Walter could say anything, his mother rounded on the young man, her face flushed red with anger as she thrust her hands on her hips. “Oh no, my boy is done fighting! Can’t you see he nearly died out there! And what kind of man sends out a poor recruit to take on that fiend Robar! You and he should be ashamed of yourselves!--”

Blanching at the tirade of words that continued to come at him, Frederick looked over to Walter for aid, but even he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Eventually however his mother calmed down, and Walter asked, “Where’s Pa?”

Her expression somewhat somber now, she couldn’t seem to meet Walter’s gaze as she peered out the window. “He left to go search for survivors.” But then as her eyes suddenly narrowed with understanding, she continued, “No, Walter, you are staying right here. I won’t let you be brought back in a casket.”

Meeting her stubborn gaze with one of his own, he replied, “I can’t stay here, mother. Please, I must help.” And as her gaze softened, she wiped an eyelash from his cheek, and laughed softly, “Why did you have to grow up to be so much like him? Very well, you may go, but you must promise me that you’ll be safe. I can’t bear the thought of losing either one of you.”

“You won’t, ma,” And as tears appeared in the corners of her eyes, Walter hugged her, and walked outside to join Frederick. Still looking chagrined by his mother’s harangue, he quickly led Walter away down a corridor, and towards a stairwell.

More at peace than he ever imagined he would be, he silently followed Frederick out into another corridor, before it opened up onto the ramparts. Overwhelmed by the sound of thundering canons, he watched as crews re-loaded the heavy weapons with gigantic steel balls before they took a step back. The explosions that shook the walls were soon followed by gouts of flame from their mouths, while dozens of soldiers that lined the walls fired their rifles.

Barely able to hear anything as Frederick pointed towards a bastion opposite them, Walter saw Sergeant Durgan alongside Lord Huxelberry and his daughter discussing something over a map. Studying the waves of undead below them, they seemed utterly oblivious to the danger. Whereas Walter couldn’t help but look down and see the endless ranks of undead that surged against the walls. More organized than he had ever seen them, he observed as entire battalions equipped in polished armor prepared ladders for a charge at the wall, and a single log that had been sharpened to a point and covered in hides.

Hands nervously clenching and unclenching, he hurried towards the opposing bastion trying to not look down, and saw Lady Irlena watching him. Her gaze narrowed as she studied him, Walter couldn’t help but feel exposed, when the huge sergeant turned to face him. His stern face twisted into a pleased smile, he slapped Walter on the back, and barked, “excellent work, soldier. The report you provided, helped us to save most of the townsfolk. If not for you, everyone would not have been able to make it into the stronghold in time.”

Eyebrows raised in confusion, Walter wondered what in the saints he was talking about? Fingering the map in his pocket, he opened his mouth to speak, when the voice in his head whispered, “keep silent and say nothing.”

More than a little annoyed by the strange command, he again opened his mouth to speak, when Lord Huxelberry gave him a stern smile. “I’m glad that you made it back safely. It seems the sergeant was indeed right to choose you. But it seems now we have more pressing problems. This sorcerer, whoever he is, has given Robar an army. And without an aviary to contact the Capital, we are stranded here alone. By chance, were you able to discover anything. Even the smallest detail will help us to better prepare.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Very much aware that they were all staring at him, Walter replied, “I did see orcs riding alongside Robar when he left camp.”

Eyes widened at that, Lord Huxelberry growled, “why was this not mentioned in your report?! Orcs this far south. That can only mean one thing.”

Leveling him with a dark scowl, Lady Irlena shook her head, and laughed, “I’m sure the boy must be dazed from his travels. Orcs know that to cross the border would mean war with Preternia, and we are not at war, father.”

“Hush, girl, and do not speak of things that you do not understand. If the Empire of Preternia has sent this sorcerer then it is war that they desire, and we would do well to send word to the Commissary before it is too late.”

Lost in the whirl storm of words, Walter couldn't really understand what was happening. He knew the Empire of Preternia employed mages and their foul ilk, but what did that have to do with orcs acting as bodyguards for Lord Robar.

Seeing his confusion, Frederick leaned over to whisper in his ear, “orcs make up the bulk of the justicars, the empire's elite warriors. They are under the direct command of the Emperor, and would not risk being seen south of the border. Not unless they are preparing for war.”

Daunted by the thought, Walter was beginning to see what that meant, when a voice boomed from below the gates. “I am Parganon! Master of the underworld! And I have come for my vengeance!” Emerging out of the crowd of undead was a dark cowled man in black robes, his fingertips blazing with blue fire as he spoke, “You who turned your backs on me! Betrayed me! You all shall be the first to return to Preternia!”

The words that reverberated in his skull bounced around his head, but as was the dawning shock that he recognized that voice. Looking down to examine the man at the gates, Walter almost fell off the walls as he stared down at Harken.

His beautiful face now disfigured by scars, his skin had become a sallow yellow, his teeth crooked and sharp, and his eyes burned with a feverish light that made them glow red. His heart sinking in his chest, Walter wanted to call out to his friend, but as those eyes examined Lord Huxelberry’s entourage, his gaze met Walter’s and in that moment of recognition his tongue dried up. Hypnotized by those burning red eyes, he barely heard the words that pounded into his mind. “Walter, I see you have joined with my enemies. I had thought you of all people would understand why this must be done.”

Confused and more than a little startled by the intrusion, he thought back, “what have they done to you, Harken?”

…Drawn into memories that were not his own, he saw Harken in the woods. Bow in hand, he chased after a stag that had been wounded, when he heard a loud cry and turned back to see Penny and Walter. Fear seizing his lungs as he saw his friend tangling with a wild boar bare handed, he raced back towards them, and without understanding, set fire to a nearby tree.

Terrified of the flames, the beast fled, while Harken fell to his knees before Walter. Calling out to Penny to get help, he saw that the girl had passed out through sheer terror, and with his friend bleeding heavily on the ground, he pulled onto something deep within him.

Skin slowly knitting itself as though threaded by a perfect hand, he couldn’t help but feel a touch of wonder, when another voice roared with anger. Looking up to see the thunderous expression of Walter’s father, the powerful blacksmith hauled him up by his arm, and tossed him aside. “Get back you devil! Your kind is not welcome here! Take your foul magic and go!”

Too stunned to understand what was happening, he saw more men from the village join Walter’s father and as Grimwald explained to them what he had seen, stones began to fly towards him. “Leave! We don’t need any of your cursed kind here!”

Struck in the head by a rock that shook him out of his stupor, he stood up, and without a word began to flee…

Head shaking from the vivid memory, Walter could see the scar on his friend’s face where he had been struck, and couldn’t help but feel a swelling of rage in his belly. His friend had saved his life and they had repaid him by hurling insults, attacking him, and exiling him from the village. More horrific was the thought that this was all because of his father.

Seeing the understanding in his eyes, Harken spoke again in his mind, “Join me, Walter, together you and I can bring justice to those that have harmed us. Open the gates, and I promise an end to the bloodshed. There is no need for anyone else to die.”

His gaze shifting to the winch that would open the gates, Walter could feel Harken’s mind pressing against his, urging him to kill those with him. Lips peeled back in a half snarl at the pain building at the back of his skull, Walter could see Irlena staring at him in curiosity, while Sergeant Durgan and Lord Huxelberry stood distracted staring down at the sorcerer.

Unable to resist the pull as his fingers reached out for Durgan’s dagger, he tried to fight through the pain, and nearly swooned as he saw black spots in his line of vision. Not sure he was able to believe what had happened to his friend, he heard a second voice in his mind. “You can fight it, Walter. The Harken you knew is dead.”

Shocked that she could see what was happening to him, he asked, “what happened to Harken, is it true? Did my father drive him out of the village?”

And to his dismay, she replied simply, “yes. But it is not what you believe. Harken was the one who summoned the wild boar to attack Penny. Once he saw you however, he changed his mind, and saved your life. Believe me when I say his mind has been shadowed by darkness for some time, and I believe that you know that.”

Caught in a vortex of emotions he couldn’t rightly understand, a part of Walter knew that she was right, that Harken was indeed petty. Like the time he set fire to the bakery because the baker's wife refused to give him a free pastry. And yet what if she was lying to him as well, it seemed that all this time, things had been going on through the village, and he hadn't a clue about any of them.

Fists clenched at his side, he released the pent up ball of anger in his belly, and finally forced himself to look away. No matter what had happened, he couldn’t allow Harken or whoever he was now to hurt the people inside the stronghold.

Moving on instinct towards one of the cannons that had stopped firing for some reason, he angled the barrel downward, and lit the wick. Then after a brief glance towards an appalled Harken who stood there frozen in place, the cannon rocked back, and released a mighty blast that exploded before the mage’s feet.

With his death, the horde of undead crumpled to the ground, and as the stunned soldiers looked on, they saw Lord Robar and his men turn tail to flee. Too close to the walls however, Lord Huxelberry’s guards wasted no time and released a hailstorm of bullets to cut them down. The last survivor, an orc cried out, “Long live Preternia!” Before he too collapsed from dozens of wounds.

The battle over as quickly as it had begun, Walter stared down at the blackened pathway where his friend had once been, and felt his stomach grow sick. All this death, all this bloodshed? What had it all been for?

Too numb to really care anymore, he climbed down the ladder, and walked towards the gates. Slowly grinding open as soldiers advanced forward, he ignored their looks of astonishment as he strode past them.

Nearing the spot where his friend had been torn to pieces, he looked down at the burnt remains, before he continued past. He decided he finally was done with this place, done with its horrors, and kept marching north. He didn’t know where. All he knew was that he could no longer stay here…

~*~

Barely halfway to the Commissary’s Embassy, Talvos was yet again going over what he would say, when the streets became a hive of activity. Voices raised up in panic, he watched as squads of soldiers raced past him, before the sudden booms of thunder.

Exchanging looks of worry with Verana, he quickly grabbed hold of a man rushing past, and asked, “what is going on?” The middle aged man who was sweating profusely, wiped a hand across his forehead as he gazed back in dread. “It is war, Sir Knight, the Empire of Preternia has come.”

The End