Watch captain Grathend Tübleck surveys the oncoming dust plume inexorably growing larger across the horizon, dread sinking whatever good humour the unabated Chaos raiders hadn’t already beaten out of him. In that cloud he can see Ironjaw orruks mounted on gruntas, a foe he knew Titantflint-Upon-Ghur couldn’t withstand. The Age of Chaos had already leached so much of their strength, and now Ghur seemed to see fit to deliver the fatal blow with an entire Warclan. Grathend tightens his grip on his spear and prepares himself to bellow orders to fire upon the horde, knowing that it would be too little to save them.
To his utter amazement, the orruks stopped short just outside of range of the ballistae. Though they continued to bellow battle cries and stir fretfully, they were no longer charging. Grathend never thought he’d see such a sight.
Except for one. This grunta is visibly smaller than the rest, and now he sees that it didn’t bear an orruk, but a much slimmer humanoid figure,their entire body clinging to the grunta’s back as they hang on for dear life. He assumes that they must be an envoy, but what kind of Ironjaw uses an envoy?
It only takes a few minutes for Grathend to have exited Titanflint-Upon-Ghur to greet the arrival, but by then the grunta is already a bare few dozen metres away from the wall. Just when Grathend wonders if the mysterious envoy means to charge him the grunta abruptly stops, flinging the rider off its back. They land hard on the ground, provoking raucous laughter from the orruks, but quickly pick themselves up in a way that makes Grathend think they’re used to this sort of treatment.
As he approaches them they stand up straight. Though a tall man, he has to crane his neck up to look up at them. Grathend’s eyes widen as he realises what this person is, under the filth, messy and crudely cut blonde hair, and patched-up clothing that looks like it’s been stitched together from diverse fabrics.
“You’re an aelf?!”
She smiles at him as she brushes herself down.
“Was it the ears? It’s always the ears.”
The aelf steps forward and takes his hand, shaking it delicately with slim fingers.
“I don’t think you’ll believe how happy I am to see you! My companions are excellent company when you get used to them, but they’ve been uninterested in directing me to a Realmgate to Hysh, and I thought you might help me in that matter.”
Through his stunned fugue Grathend manages to croak a few words.
“Your companions…?”
The aelf waves a hand backwards and smiles fondly at the jeering orruks.
“Well, they are a little hard to miss. You don’t need to worry about them attacking you, I managed to convince them to restrain themselves for the moment.”
“You…”
Grathend stares dumbfounded at the Ironjaws, then back up at the aelf.
“How?”
“I convinced them that leaving you alone would attract bigger fights than if they destroyed your town. I’ll admit, it took me a few attempts, but in the end they understood the rough gist of it.”
The aelf’s smile becomes embarrassed.
“I, um, might have used a few colourful analogies involving dung, but I assure you I meant no insult by it.”
Grathend falls silent, utterly at a loss with how to deal with this utterly bizarre woman.
Enjoying the company of orruks, able to convince them not to attack a sitting target, yet still retaining awkward self-consciousness over the meagerest of offences. What manner of aelf is she?
Grathend gives up trying to solve this puzzle, deciding that whatever she is, it would be best not to anger her. He weakly points back to his town.
“I offer you the hospitality of Titanflint-Upon-Ghur. I… I hope we are able to accommodate you and your…”
He casts an uneasy eye in the direction of the orruks.
“Your companions.”
The aelf grins widely at him and speaks in a reassuring tone, evidently sensing his discomfort.
“You don’t have to worry about my friends entering Titanflint, they’re perfectly happy to wander around outside of your walls. Just don’t provoke them and hopefully you’ll be able to coexist together.”
She looks up at the town, and her smile wavers slightly.
“But I wouldn’t mind spending a few nights in your town.”
She pauses, before speaking in a hushed, nervous tone that is bewildering in how averse to asking her question it makes her sound.
“I hope this isn’t too much of an imposition, but could I possibly borrow some fresh clothes? I’m afraid I lost my money some while ago.”
Grathend nods, still baffled by her behaviour.
“Is there anything else?”
“Um, yes.”
She looks back down at him and asks a question she seems to have been holding within her for a long time, only now daring to hope that it would be answered.
“Do you have any baths available for me?”
When Grathend nodded again the aelf looked like she was about to cry from joy. She collects herself, fighting down her onrush of relief.
“Thank you.”
She seems to realise something, and bashfully offers a hand to shake.
“Especially after I’d been so rude as to forget to ask you your name.”
He slowly takes her hand and shakes it.
“I am Grathend Tübleck, ma’am.”
She smiles at him.
“I am very pleased to meet you, Grathend. I am called Aengellania Heartmender, but please, call me Aenge.”
Many generations later…
Outrider Odra Tübleck continued her patrol on horseback, nervously fidgeting with her revolving rifle as she rides past a fist of Ironjaws loudly guffawing among themselves.
Growing up in Titanflint-Upon-Ghur had inured her to the sight of Ironjaw orruks, thinking of them as boisterous neighbours that only sometimes caused trouble. But the unleashing of Simgar’s Storm upon the Realms in the Stormcast Eternals had stirred trouble in her community. Some spoke out against the Ironjaws, declaring that they didn’t need their protection anymore if the Stormcast came to aid them, while others worry that Titanflint would be tainted by association if the Ironjaws decided to attack Sigmar’s champions, or vice versa.
For Odra’s part she privately wishes that the Ironjaws would be allowed to stay. They didn’t interfere with Titanflint much, and they were an oddly comforting sight to see while on patrol, if you didn’t bother them or focus too hard on their trophies…
One of the Ironjaws, a smaller orruk swathed in robes and clutching a glowing staff that Odra knows marks him out as a weirdnob shaman, suddenly turns and cocks an ear, listening intently. With a grunt he mounts his boar and sets off in the direction he had looked towards, quickly followed by the other Orruks. Odra decides to accompany them, wondering what could have caught their attention so.
Odra finds her answer as she spots a figure walking towards Titanflint-Upon-Ghur, unmistakably an aelf woman wearing deep blue travelling robes, and with long honey-blonde hair tied in a braid. Odra asks herself who would be so confident to travel alone in Ghur, when she notices that the orruks are speeding up.
To her dawning horror, she realises that they’re charging the aelf at full tilt. Odra fumbles with her rifle, not knowing if she’d have the courage to anger the orruks by firing on them. But could she sit by while an innocent traveller is slaughtered before her eyes? In her mind Odra urges the traveller to run, or defend herself, but strangely she didn’t seem to be perturbed at all by her assailants.
Just a few feet away the Orruk shaman leaps off his grunta and rushes the aelf bellowing loudly with laughter. Odra winces as he wraps his arms around the aelf’s thin body, guessing that he means to crush her. So it is to her great surprise when she hears the aelf laugh with him, if a little reedily.
Eventually he lets go of her. The traveller turns to the other Orruks and greets them warmly, as if they were old friends of hers. Whatever she said brought even louder laughter out of them. The shaman laughed the loudest and thumped her on the back, provoking another wince from Odra. But the aelf took it in stride, and laughed with them.
Eventually she seems to notice Odra for the first time, and exchanges a few words with the shaman. The orruk fist parts, letting the aelf walk out from among them and towards Odra. The outrider waits in her saddle, still not entirely sure how to process the strange display she had just witnessed.
The aelf stops a few feet away and gives Odra a smile. Though a small smile, Odra can feel the sincerity behind it. It gives her the comforting impression that, whatever great burdens the aelf carries, Odra and even the least of her troubles are the sole focus of her attention. When she speaks there is a care to her voice that only reinforces that impression.
“Greetings, soldier. Am I correct in guessing that you’re from Titanflint-Upon-Ghur?”
Odra nods down at her.
“You are. I was born there, and I’ve lived in Titanflint my entire life.”
The aelf’s smile widens slightly.
“I was hoping you were. Nuklib brought me up to speed on how his warclan has been doing, but I’m afraid he’s been rather ignorant of your affairs beyond the battles you’ve shared with him. Might I ask if you could fill in the gaps for me while you escort me to Titanflint?”
Odra nods again, then turns her horse to point back home.
“I’ll do my best, but why are you so interested in Titanflint?”
The aelf waves farewell to the Orruks, then answers Odra as they begin the journey back home.
“I was in the area when I heard of the rising tensions in your town, and so I decided to visit to see if I can do anything to quieten them.”
Her voice lowers to a conspiratorial whisper, as if there was anything else around them than dust and gnarled vegetation.
“Strictly speaking I’m not exactly supposed to be here, but I trust that we can keep that secret between ourselves.”
Odra finds herself smiling back at the aelf and her earnest friendliness.
“My lips are sealed.”
She leans down to offer a hand to her new companion.
“I’m Odra Tübleck.”
The aelf’s face lights up when Odra gives her name.
“Tübleck? What a coincidence.”
Chuckling to herself, she takes Odra’s hand and shakes it.
“I am called Aengellania Tearworn. But please, call me Aenge.”
