OG: Chapter 34

Almost immediately, the Stone Troll lunged for me as a Priority, forcing me to engage my various implants in order to avoid the surprise attack by the Troll. In a flash, my blade was out and parrying a claw strike to the side. Ruggiero wasn't quite so lucky. The raking claw of the Troll's left arm struck him in the helmet, causing sparks to fly as the vile, filth-encrusted talons, hardened by Chaotic Radiation, scratched the helm up something fierce, leaving gouges in the metal and ringing Ruggiero's bell as he was knocked backward from the sheer force of the blow. As that happened, the Troll leaned in with its fangs to try and take a bite out of my shoulder. My armor, thankfully, held, but if not for the enchantments, alchemical treatment, and construction, I would likely be looking at at least a wrecked-up pauldron.

Suddenly, I realized that Stone Trolls were squad-killers, even among the more well-equipped and drilled troops of the Imperial State Armies, for a reason. They could take apart an armored man with a well-placed bite or a few quick rakes of their talons. I shuddered to think how dangerous this thing would have been if it had been wielding a stone club or something. Now, however, it was my turn to strike, and as I swung upward with my blade, the enchantments and alchemical treatments allowed my sword to slice deep into the belly of the troll, though at nearly ten feet tall, I was cutting up a fair bit. The Troll let out a bellow of pain as my blade opened its guts, pouring out a steaming, hissing bunch of acrid fluid and viscera.

Thankfully, I had alchemically treated my armor to be resistant to acid damage, otherwise, this would have hurt. I skipped back away from the Troll as it clawed at me with one, meaty arm, even as it reached to stuff its guts back into its chest with the other. The claw struck me in the side, though my armor held, and sent me skidding sideways toward the wall. Unfortunately, the thrown dagger that Martine flung its way didn't do anything, spanging off the Cardiophylax and rebounding into one of the moth-eaten banners, tearing a new hole into the thing. Anders tried casting again, another lightning bolt was conjured using the Druidic tongue, but as it struck out with a crack and a whiff of ozone, the Troll barely paused in its onslaught, clubbing Ruggiero to the floor with its free claw.

"The Armor it's wearing is boosting its innate magic resistance! I will be of little help here!" Warned Anders.

Radamenes, having taken the opportunity to sneak around the fighting troll as it pressed toward us, punched, lashing out with dagger-like teeth to sever the Troll's Achilles tendon from behind. The Troll roared in pain, toppling to one knee, but managing to strike Radamenes with an outstretched arm. My Good boy was sent careening into the wall of the Tomb with a cracking noise, yowling in pain as the Troll broke some of his ribs and two of his legs with that attack, wounded badly, but alive. I would be able to heal him up, but only if we finished this quickly. Fortunately, Radamenes gave me the opening I needed with his sacrifice.

"Pour on the damage! If we can outpace its regenerative abilities enough to keep it on the floor, I have something that might just finish it!" I ordered.

"Right, as if it's that simple!" Scoffed Martine, drawing her fighting blade and circling around the downed Troll to stab it in the back. She was immediately forced to backpedal away from a flailing claw strike, however.

"Less nagging, more fighting!" Snarled Ruggiero as he lashed out with his own enchanted blade, cutting deep into the back of the Troll's knee. Unfortunately, as he did so, he caught an elbow strike from the Troll that caused the metal of his breastplate to groan in protest as he was slammed aside, at least two of his ribs were clearly broken from the attack, from the way he clutched his side as he steadied himself. Unfortunately, the attack had left his blade lodged in the Troll's knee.

"Just kill it, I can heal you with potions when this is over!" Insisted Anders.

"That should be good enough anyway, I'll take it from here! Get to the other end of the hall!" I growled out a warning.

As the others hastened to gather near where Radamenes had wound up on the other side of the rather large entrance hall, I reached into my satchel and pulled out a flask. As I did so, I uncorked the clay bottle and put in a pinch of alchemical dust. A hissing noise started to echo from the bottle, just as the Troll managed to drag the enchanted, alchemically-treated steel of Ruggiero's blade out of its leg. As I prepared to throw the Clay bottle, I looked the Troll dead in its pupil-less, yellow eyes.

"You messed with the wrong fluffy boy!" I snarled as I hurled the mixture at the Troll.

The clay bottle flew true, shattering against the cardiophylax and the Stone Troll's own, pebbly, rocky skin. The mixture inside was composed of two substances that normally never went anywhere near each other in an alchemical formula. The reason for that was largely because of exactly what was happening now. The resulting compound was, effectively, an alchemical version of White Phosphorus. It ignited on contact with air and burned hot enough to burn through cloth, leather, and metal, though oddly enough, ceramics seemed to be immune to the effect by some quirk of the alchemical processes involved. With this Troll, though, it quickly set it alight, burning hot as the beast bellowed in pain. The armor it wore, which had been keeping magic bound inside it, was similarly trashed, and that forced me to duck and cover, as the combination of the Alchemical Willy Pete and the unraveling of the Magic that was bound up in the Troll's Armor caused an explosion that shook the entry hall.

Sizzling globs of quickly burning troll flesh splattered all over the Entry Hall in an area of roughly seven square meters, or seventy square feet in American Measurements, centered on the Troll as the explosion caused by the collapsing enchantment on the Troll's Armor reacting with the Alchemical Willy Pete splattered bits of burning and dissolving Troll all over the goddamn place. Fortunately, the Entry Hall to the tomb was pretty large. About eighty square meters, or roughly eight-hundred-seventy-one square feet in American Measurements. Most of us were able to duck and cover, even though the explosion shook dust loose from the ceiling. I was struck by a blackened, flaming rib bone in the side at pistol shot speeds that stuck into my armor, wrecking the breastplate and chain in parts, as well as bruising my ribs beneath my armor. The others were completely out of the line of fire, thankfully, as was Radamenes.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for some of the regimental banners. Notably, the Banner of what seemed to be a regiment of Ungol Horse Archers, one of the few that would have been in Prince Vaclav's Army, was completely shredded and burned up, as was the banner of a Kossovite Dervish Regiment. The banners of the two light cavalry regiments had both simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, unfortunately, and were caught in the blast. It was a blow to history, of course, but if I was being honest, there wasn't really any way that those banners would have survived being taken out of these relatively dry caves anyway. They weren't magic, after all, and were a thousand-some-odd years old. That they had even managed to survive this long was a minor miracle in and of itself.

"Is everyone all right?" I questioned once I was sure we were out of danger.

"My ribs hurt." Grumbled Ruggiero.

"Yeah, join the club." I scoffed.

"What was that?" Queried Martine.

"Part of it was the destruction of the Troll's Armor, causing a magical backlash. I have to ask what sort of concoction was in that bottle? I've never seen or heard of anything like it." Asked Anders.

"It was an alchemical incendiary I learned how to make in Grand Cathay." I lied. He didn't need to know I had used out-of-context magics for that, after all.

"Remind me not to mess with the Cathayans, then." Huffed Ruggiero.

"I've never heard of any Cathayan Alchemy quite like that. Who did you study under?" Questioned Martine.

"Do we really have time for this?" I queried.

"That's a good point. We can discuss Alchemy later. For now, we need to heal up and do what we came for. I can't imagine that anything that might live in these ruins or tunnels wouldn't have heard something like that. Speaking of which, here, drink this." Nodded Anders before he began handing out more vials of greenish liquid.

I took one myself as we didn't have time for my Perpetual Healing to deal with my bruised ribs and shoulder. After all, there may be more enemies down here to deal with, as Anders pointed out. I felt the liquid do its work, healing me up even as I administered an Accelerate Healing Pill to Radamenes. I had to help my poor Fluffy Boy chew and swallow the pill, but in the end, he managed it, and his legs and ribs began to knit themselves back together. Before too long, Radamenes, Myself, and Ruggiero were as good as new, wound-wise anyway. Ruggiero's blade had been bent into a piece of blasted, twisted metal in the explosion that had finished off the Troll. He had his daggers, of course, as well as his original blade, but those wouldn't be anywhere close to as effective.

"Here. You can take my sword. I get the feeling that I'll be getting an upgrade shortly." I offered.

"My thanks." Nodded Ruggiero.

"I wonder, though. Just what was that pill you fed Radamenes?" Asked Anders.

"It's another bit of Cathayan Alchemy, a sort of super-healing pill, unfortunately, the ingredients are found only in Grand Cathay, Lustria, Parts of Distant Nippon, and parts of the Kingdoms of Ind. As such, they're extremely expensive and I don't have a whole lot of those." I sighed.

That was only partly a lie. The ingredients for the Accelerate Healing Pills could be found on Mundus in those places. After all, they were Khadira Stem, Ginkgo Root, and Coca Leaves, all of which could be found, just not in the Old World. That alone made them expensive, and I'd only managed to purchase enough ingredients for a handful of pills before my money ran out. It certainly lent credence to the idea that Piers Van Rijn was hooked into the De Roelef Trade Network somehow. I couldn't imagine him being able to acquire those specific ingredients, even at the outrageous markup that he had priced them at, without having the ability to get goods from a Directorate Trade Network.

"I see. It was unusually effective, but I suppose there must be some drawbacks to such Alchemy." Mused Martine.

"We'll just have to get by on what we have. How many of those vials do you have, Anders?" Questioned Ruggiero.

"I prepared a Cauldron before we set out, so we should have enough for a few more fights. How many of those Cathayan Pills are left?" Queried Anders.

"Three." I answered.

"Perhaps we should save them for emergencies?" Asked Martine.

"That isn't a bad plan, actually. For now, though, we should head into the tomb proper and see what we can find." I intoned.

And with that, we exited the entry Hall and entered the Tomb of Vaclav the Crusader Proper. In here was a large stone sarcophagus sat in the middle of a room with frescoes of combat against Arabyan Forces in Estalia and the Border Princes, before showing the final, climactic, battle of Prince Vaclav's life, near what looked like the Tana Dante River. He had apparently been slain by an Arabyan Fakir of some description, apparently in vengeance for the death of a High-Ranking General, likely the Grand Vizier of El-Khabbath, during the battle for the City. The Name of the City was also spelled out, Zarwai, just like the hills that still bore that name to this day. Of course, those weren't the only, or even the most interesting things on display.

The Sarcophagus was surrounded by plinths that displayed the panoply of the dead and defeated Prince. A sleeved mail coat of fine steel links, leather leggings with bronze fittings, a scale breastplate, a silvery metal helm with a blue plume, and a pair of engraved plate greaves all sat on various plinths around the sarcophagus. However, that wasn't all. The most interesting and eye-catching item was the one-handed sword of silvery metal, with a golden crossguard and pommel, as well as a hilt wrapped in rich, dark brown leather. Runes were inscribed along the blade, a Rune of Might, one of Fire, and the Most Powerful, the Master Rune of Alaric the Mad, inscribed in the center of the hilt.

This, then, was the Runeblade of Dazh's Fury, as it had been called. Prince Vaclav, if I recalled the history lessons that Konstantin had been forced to sit through correctly, was an adherent of Dazh's. The Kislevite god of Fire, the Sun, and the Forge had been his Patron, and he had asked for his blessing before going on crusade, a blessing the High Priest of Dazh had given gladly. Of course, the Runeblade had more to do with Dwarven capabilities than anything involving Dazh, but if Alaric the Mad had complained about the name, he had never said anything, or rather, he had never been recorded as saying anything about it.

Of the other items, I could identify most. The mail coat was the Coat of Physical Prowess, which bore enchantments to increase speed, strength, and toughness. The Breastplate was a Breastplate from Steel and Flame, granting protection from all non-magical weapons, as well as from fire. The leggings were Leggings of Leaping, allowing the wearer to leap up to twice their normal ability, while the Greaves were Plate Greaves of Speed, allowing the bearer to move at twice their normal rate. Finally, the Helm was the Helm of the Charismatic Commander, a helm that had been commissioned for Prince Vaclav the Crusader by his younger brother, Prince Mstislav the Wry, from an Ungol Hag-Witch, who was all too eager to see Vaclav take forces away from the ongoing Unification Wars with the Ungols and Roppsmenn. It provided mystical boosts to the Wearer's Charisma and Leadership Capabilities. And of course, all of these items were more protective than standard for their type of armor.

"According to these frescoes, there should be three other such persons of import in the City. This High-Ranking General, this Magister, and this Thief-Looking Person here." Mused Martine as she looked over the Frescoes.

"Let Kostek have his Countryman's Items. I will take the General's." Offered Ruggiero.

"Indeed, which would leave the Magister's Items to me. I've never dealt with Arabyan Magic before, so this should be interesting, at least." Mused Anders.

"Those would be the Grand Vizier of El-Khabbath, Suilieman the Stout, as well as his Court Fakir, Abdul Ibn Salaf, the Butcher of Valraux. The Thief is probably Ali Al-Sariq, the King of Thieves of El-Khabbath. He served as Sulieman's Spymaster during El-Khabbath's invasion of the Border Princes and Southern Bretonnia during the Crusades." I pointed out.

"And how would you know that?" Questioned Anders.

"The benefits of having the best education that a Boyar can afford, I suppose." I shrugged.

"Invasion of Southern Bretonnia?" Queried Ruggiero.

"The Arabyans managed to get as far as Southern Carcassonne before being driven back by King Louis' counterattack, though if you ask anyone from Carcassonne, or worse, Savoie, about it, be prepared for a tirade." Scoffed Martine.

"Come to that, didn't they also sack Kreutzhofen in Solland as well?" I asked.

"It's possible. Of course, Kreutzhofen gets sacked so regularly that I doubt it even merited any notice at all in Pfeildorf." Shrugged Anders.

"I wouldn't go that far. The Empire sent a force to the Crusade under Prince Friedrich Weiss of Wissenburg. They had to cross Bretonnian Territory, and it caused a minor scandal when King Louis let them through. Of course, the Battle of the Banks of Brienne helped the King's Popularity, and the fall of Juan Carlos the First of Magritta to an attack by the Arabyans in Tobaro lent some level of Urgency to things, especially after the newly crowned Esteban the First of Magritta became King of All Estalia. There had been a real fear that if Estalia could speak with a single voice, it would agree to peace terms with Araby, now that it had no further Arabyan Occupiers. It had been agreed that reinforcements were needed to bolster Estalia and keep them in the war." Offered Martine.

"And how would you know any of that? Kostek I get, he's high nobility, but as far as I know, you're just some adventurer from Bretonnia. How would you learn about any of that in detail?" Questioned Ruggiero.

"Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think?" Queried Martine.

"I'd like to know as well. It's a very curious fact, after all. How do you know all that? I don't believe that Bretonnia teaches such things to non-nobles, do they?" Asked Anders.

"The answer to that is simple. Martine is Nobility, though in disguise. Why she's in disguise is her business, but I picked up on it right away." I shrugged.

Martine looked at me curiously, as did Ruggiero and Anders, but I shook my head and merely pointed out that we had more of the city to search and potentially more opponents to face off against. That seemed to mollify them somewhat, and soon enough, I was donning Prince Vaclav's armor and buckling on an honest-to-gods runeblade at my waist. By the time I was done, it felt like a good half an hour had passed. It had been long enough for Radamenes to lie down in the corner of the tomb for a nap, anyway. I shook my Fluffy boy awake, and he glared at me and flicked his tail in annoyance, but when I just stared back at him, he chuffed a breath out of his nose and stood up, stretching himself out before making to follow me.

"I trust you'll tell us more about your background than you did previously when we return to Alynda?" Questioned Anders, looking over at Martine.

"Aye, Kostek seems sound enough, if a bit tricksy with his Cathayan Alchemy, but I mislike the thought of potentially being misled by someone. Especially given the things that are out there in the world." Scowled Ruggiero.

"Are you accusing me of being an agent of the Ruinous Powers?" Queried Martine.

"Leave it be, Martine. If you didn't want to invite questions, you shouldn't have tried to hide your identity the way you did." I sighed.

"Very well, I will tell you what you want to know when we return." Huffed Martine.

"Fantastic. Now, which way to head next?" Asked Ruggiero.

"The Alcazar seems the most logical place. If we're looking for artifacts or treasures, we could do worse than heading for where the Grand Vizier lived and ruled from." Suggested Anders.

"Agreed, though that would also be the most likely spot for more opposition." I pointed out.

Still, though, it wasn't as if we had any other real choices. Not without exploring the city further, at any rate. As we picked our way through streets clogged with the fallen and dessicated bodies of both Early Kislevite and Arabyan troops, we set our sights on the Alcazar. It was far away from here, in the very rear of the City of Zarwai, essentially in a minor cavern of its own. The only reason we even know that was based on the thickness of the layer of piled-up bodies in the streets and the odd bit of signage that still existed that pointed us in the direction we wanted to go. Fortunately, Arabyan was one of the languages I apparently spoke, and I found myself able to speak not just that, either.

Kislevarin was my first language, but aside from that and Arabyan, I also spoke Reikspiel, Wastelander, Tilean, Estalian, Breton, Estalian, Standard Cathayan, Northern Ind, Pigbarter Pidgin, and Shifting Mangrove Coast Creole. No Norscan, Albionic, Nipponese, Pygmy, Amazonian, Strigany, or any of the other Cathayan, Southlands, or Ind Dialects, nor did I speak any of the Non-Human Languages like Mootish, Khazalid, Saurian, Queekish, Zharralid, Grumbarth, or any of the numerous Elven Dialects. I also spoke Classical, though that was the only Language out of the Dead and Magical Languages I spoke, which meant no High Nehekaran, Druidic, Filuan, or standard Magick Tongue. I also didn't know any of the secret languages that were out there, either, things like Thieves' Tongue, Battle Tongue, or the numerous Secret Signs used by various organizations. Finally, though this might have been obvious, I spoke neither the Anoqeyan of Gods and Spirits, nor the Dark Tongue of Chaos Daemons.

At any rate, my ability to speak Arabyan led us to the rear of the City of Zarwai, where the fighting had been thickest. Interestingly, as we passed through the Siq, a narrow space in the rear of the cavern that formed a natural choke point and acted as the Gates to the Alcazar, the Kislevite bodies began to thin out, leaving just the Arabyan ones by the time we had passed through into the secondary cavern containing the Alcazar. These bodies were horrifically mangled in a way that none of the ones in the City Proper were, some with limbs ripped off, or their skulls crushed or rib cages staved in, some had been gored right through the chest, armor and all, as if they'd been hit flush in the torso with a cannonball.

The Alcazar itself, however, was a sight to behold. Made in the Arabian fashion with arches and domes, lit by magical witchlights that haven't gone out even after a thousand years, with ironwork and glass for windows, the Alcazar was as much a Palace as it was a fortress, though there was still some attention paid to defense even here, aside from the Siq. The flanking towers that were carved into the living rock of the cavern showed positions where bowmen could fire down on a force attacking through the Courtyard with impunity and the tall, gilded, tower rising up from the rear of the Palace where the Fakir's residence was overlooked the courtyard as more than just a golden monument to Arabyan Opulance. It also provided a fine vantage point from which the Fakir could cast elemental magics down onto the rest of the palace grounds.

All in all, while there was certainly the sort of Arabyan opulence that stories were made of, the fact that there were all these defensive structures meant that attacking it from the outside should have been a nightmare. The question then was how these mangled bodies had gotten here in the first place. If attacking this place from the outside would be impossible by a conventional force without leaving the sort of bodies that weren't on display here, that left only a few options. The most plausible ones weren't something that boded well for us. Namely, an attack by an unconventional force with enough power that they could utterly demolish someone with a single strike, regardless of whether they wore armor or not.

"What is all this? This is a massacre! Who could have done something like this?" Questioned Ruggiero, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Whatever did this, it was strong. Freakishly so, even." Frowned Martine.

"I can think of a few things that could do this, and since I doubt there are any large beasts or cannons around, the remaining options aren't very pleasant." I intoned, giving voice to my thoughts.

"You're not thinking Daemons, are you?" Queried Anders.

"Or undead, possibly." I nodded.

"Undead?" Asked Martine.

"It wouldn't be the first time that someone disturbed a tomb with a battle." I shrugged.

"Aye, nor would it be the first massacre that the undead have perpetrated. I think we've all heard the stories of villages and forts mysteriously slaughtered." Sighed Ruggiero.

"Luckily, the Undead have a weakness to silvered weapons, such as that dagger you picked up from the Greenskin's camp." Opined Anders.

"Fire works well against them, too. How many of those alchemical incendiaries do you have left?" Questioned Martine.

"Not enough to deal with a force that could do this. We may be able to cheat that a bit, though." I mused.

"How so?" Queried Ruggiero.

"The Runeblade I picked up from the Tomb of Prince Vaclav the Crusader bears a Rune of Fire. It will be slower going, but I should be capable of hitting the undead with fire with each swing of the blade, provided I survive long enough for that." I offered.

"And if needed, I do have a fellstave carved for this very purpose." Added Anders.

"But not one for use against trolls?" Asked Martine.

"It didn't come up enough for me to have one." Shrugged Anders.

As he said that, however, Radamenes let out a low growl, snarling at one of the entranceways to the main building of the Alcazar. I turned to look at where he was snarling, and my optics picked out a hint of movement in the shadowed corridor beyond. I wasn't the only one to take note of Radamenes' Agitation either, as Ruggiero frowned at the sudden display of aggression. He turned to us and gestured at my Fluffy Boy.

"The last time your tamed Sabretusk did that, we got attacked. I suggest we all prepare for a repeat of that particular situation." Warned Ruggiero.

I couldn't help but agree, drawing my new Runeblade and one of my pistols. Martine prepared to fight as well, drawing her fighting blade, even as Ruggiero drew his silvered dagger and my former blade that I had given him. At the same time, Anders reached into his satchel and drew out a foot-long baton, carved with sigils that clearly were meant to protect against Undead, that Fellstave he had spoken about. Unfortunately for him, the foes that emerged from out of the Alcazar's Corridor were not undead.

They were all beastial, with digitigrade legs and hands that were more paws than proper hands, clad in ragtag armor of leather and chain with wicked, jagged-looking blades. They were furred, with animalistic ears and mouths filled with sharp, biting teeth. They were led by a larger specimen of their same kind, clad in armor of brass and lead that hummed with fell power. He carried a spear on him with a jagged blade that glowed green with chaotic energies. To anyone who didn't know any better, they would think these were an unusual form of beastmen. I did know better, however, and knew that there were no Rat-Style Beastmen on Mundus. No, these were Skaven, proven by the sudden, intelligible yet still somehow squeaky commands that the leader gave.

"Kill-Slay these Man-Things! For the Master-Boss!" Squeaked out the Leader.

Then, in a chorus of affirmative squeaks in what had to be Queekish, the language of Skaven, the group of Skaven formed up into ranks. There were roughly twenty-five of them, not counting the Leader. Judging by their size, these were Stormvermin, which meant that whoever this Master was that the Leader was squeaking about, they had to be strong enough to keep a Fangleader from a notoriously backstab-prone Faction, who had the backing of his Fang of Stormvermin, under control. That pretty much sank any question of this not being a Daemon or Undead of some sort, and if it was an undead, it was a powerful one, maybe even a Vampire or Tomb King of some kind.

Then, the wall of Skaven let out a squeaky battle cry and began advancing, drawing me out of my thoughts and back into the here and now, where battle was about to ensue. I couldn't afford to get lost in thought about the Master of these Skaven. He would either show himself or he wouldn't, and there was no point worrying about it now.

After all, we had another battle to fight, and I needed to keep my mind on the task at hand if we wanted to come out victorious. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here's the next chapter. We get to see a little of the History of Zarwai and a bit more about the History of the Crusades while the MC gets to tool up with new gear. At the same time, the plot thickens with the New Master of Zarwai and exactly who he, she, or it is. Strong enough to pulp bodies even within armor, and either powerful enough or cunning enough to keep Skaven under control. It's either a Daemon or something like a Vampire. I won't spoil which it is, but you'll find out in the next chapter.

A note on the equipment of Prince Vaclav the Crusader. I did roll for it all using the rules for random magical item generation from WHFB. The big find here was the Runeblade. Ironically, I rolled a twenty-one on the number of special abilities chart, which was within the range for it to only have a single roll on the special abilities chart, then rolled a ninety-two on the Special Abilities Chart which meant suddenly that one special ability was that it was a Rune Weapon with a D-Six worth of Dwarven Runes on it. Shit was wacky.

At any rate, the next chapter will be the Skaven fight and the confrontation with the New Master of Zarwai. I'll also have some more images and a character sheet update out before then as well.

Stay tuned. . .