Age of Sigmar: Omnibus

You are disturbed, Yvael thought.

Perhaps we should tell them, Felyndael replied. Let them know what must happen. Let them know why we must do this thing.

It would serve no purpose, even if they could understand, Caradrael interjected. He slid to a stop and turned. We should use them as the noble one uses his sword — plunge them in and watch them bleed our foes.

And leave them there, I suppose, Felyndael thought. Caradrael looked away.

They are not our kin. Caradrael’s thought was shrouded in sullen resentment, but the sentiment was shared. Felyndael could feel the agreement of others — not all, but some. Alarielle’s rage burned brightly within them. How capricious, how inconstant they must appear to their allies, driven as they were by the war-song.

The wide dome of the great basilica came into view. The air throbbed like an open wound, and he felt his insides twist in revulsion. But beneath that maddening knell came the whisper of the soulpods. Still alive, still safe, but not for much longer.

No, Felyndael thought, looking down at the Stormcasts. They are not our kin. But they aid us regardless.

Aetius slowed. The tree-revenants had stopped. He raised his hammer. They had come to a narrow alleyway, which wound between two tall, windowless buildings. Liberators moved forwards, blocking the centre of the alley with their shields.

A great bawling rolled between the buildings, trapped in the curves and angles of the alley. The smell of rot was thick on the air, and the sky above was black with smoke. ‘What is that din?’ Aetius said. The sound crashed over the Stormcasts like the roar of the sea, impossibly loud in the narrow space.

‘Come up,’ Felyndael called down, looking at them from the edge of the roof. ‘I will show you.’ He rose and slipped up the incline, moving swiftly. Aetius exchanged glances with the closest Liberators, who sidled backwards. Aetius sighed, hung his hammer from his belt and slipped his shield over his back. Then, digging his fingers into the packed reed-wall, he began to climb. The reeds bent beneath him, providing natural handholds. It wasn’t easy, but the climb wasn’t long. Few of the buildings in the city were more than three times the height of a Stormcast, and that was no real exertion for one of Sigmar’s chosen.

‘Still… sometimes… I wish… Sigmar had seen fit to give me wings. This… would be… much easier if I could fly,’ Aetius grunted as he hauled himself onto the roof of flattened reeds. He rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky. He lay for a moment, watching the distant stars flicker in the jade firmament. ‘Azyr…’ he murmured.

‘The realms weave together like the roots of a great forest. It is hard to say where one ends and another begins,’ Felyndael said, looking down at him. He extended his hand.

‘Or even how big the forest is,’ Aetius said, grabbing the proffered hand, though he needed no aid. Felyndael easily pulled him to his feet, and Aetius was surprised by the tree-revenant’s strength. Carefully, they crept to the edge of the roof. The rest of Felyndael’s warriors crouched nearby, scattered across the rooftops which overlooked the great plaza beyond. Aetius looked down. ‘More of them than I was expecting,’ he murmured.

While crossing the Plains of Vo, the Steel Souls had encountered only scattered warbands. But here, below him, was a true warhorde in the making. Arrayed before the steps of the Basilica of Reeds, the gathering had the exuberance of a carnival. Great fires burned in pits scooped from the reeds. Dozens of pestilent standards rose over the mighty throng of monsters spread through the vast plaza. Chieftains gurgled greetings to one another, warriors bellowed prayers to the fly-infested sky, and gales of phlegm-choked laughter echoed across the open space.

Felyndael peered towards the basilica, and the hordes gathered there. ‘There are too many. Even if we slip past them, they will soon know where we are.’ He looked at Aetius, his expression inscrutable.

‘Unless they’re already looking somewhere else,’ Aetius said, in instant understanding. ‘The servants of the Ruinous Powers are strong but fragile… They are still mortal, for all their monstrousness. Kill enough of them and they will lose heart. Kill their chieftains and they will flee.’

‘How will we know which are the chieftains?’ Felyndael said.

‘They’ll be the ones trying to get to us first,’ Aetius said.

‘Ah. Those,’ Felyndael said. ‘We can kill those.’