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The Call of the WAAAGH!!!

Jun 4, 2022

Thomas Bouric

Aengellania shares a fire with Nuklib, the Weirdnob Shaman that had made sure the Ironjaws welcomed her into their tribe. She likes him, she had eventually decided. He was good company to be in, a far more engaging teacher of Waaagh! magic than any of her Zaitrec tutors had been. But this time she wasnโ€™t practising orruk magic with him. They had spent the last ten minutes talking about the Ironjawsโ€™ next destination, a town called Titanflint-Upon-Ghur, and what theyโ€™ll do when they arrive.

 

โ€œYou canโ€™t just attack Titanflint, Nuklib.โ€

 

The weathered old orruk, still physically powerful enough to break Aengellania with one hand, looks down at her curiously.

 

โ€œAnโ€™ why not?โ€

 

Aengellaniaโ€™s hands flutter upwards, trying to communicate her desperation.

 

โ€œBecause think of the chance you have right in front of you! You wonโ€™t need to keep travelling to survive, if you ally with them and live with them youโ€™ll have a safe haven to be in.โ€

 

โ€œAnโ€™ why do we want dat?โ€

 

Aengellaniaโ€™s jaw hangs open for a second. Nuklib chuckles at her surprise and shakes his head, reminding her of the tutors that she had given painfully incorrect answers to.

 

โ€œYooโ€™ve been finkinโ€™ about us wrong, Anjy.โ€

 

Nuklib grins down at her, displaying his broken fangs.

 

โ€œYouโ€™ve been finkinโ€™ about us like weโ€™z โ€˜umies, or pointy-ears or stunties. Weโ€™z ainโ€™t. Weโ€™z orruks. We fight, we kill, we Waaagh!.โ€

 

Even whispered, the Orruk battlecry echoes in the dark, as if a hundred other throats spoke it in sympathy.

 

โ€œDatโ€™s life. Fight, kill, Waaagh!. We Orruks know it best, cuz weโ€™z best at it. But uvvas can figure it out too.โ€

 

He lifts up his staff and pokes the end of it into the fire. A cloud of ash blossoms out of the embers, abruptly expanding at the end to form a symbol that makes Aengellaniaโ€™s eyes widen.

 

Nuklib turns his red eyes back to her, still grinning as Ghal Maraz hangs in the air.

 

โ€œSigmar, โ€˜e almost knows da troof of it. Eโ€™ dunโ€™t like ta admit it evva since โ€˜e put on dat shiny hat of โ€˜is, but in โ€˜is โ€˜eart โ€˜e knows โ€˜e just wants ta krump โ€˜ard, wevver itโ€™s Godbeasts or da spikey lads, or all da gits dat turned der backs on โ€˜im jusโ€™ when โ€˜e needed dem most. Datโ€™s why Gorkamorka likes Sigmar best of all da uvva gods.โ€

 

โ€œDonโ€™t y-you mean liked? I thought they fell apart just before the Age of Cha-โ€

 

Aengellaniaโ€™s nervous interruption is cut off by howling laughter from Nuklib. He stamps his staff on the ground as he rocks back and forth on his seat.

 

โ€œDere ya go again, finkinโ€™ dat jusโ€™ because deyโ€™ve been fightinโ€™ means that dey โ€˜ate each other, like deyโ€™z some โ€˜umies!โ€

 

Finally his laughter dies down to a low chuckle, rumbling through the air. Somehow it disturbed her more than his full-throated laughter.

 

โ€œGorkamorka luvs Sigmar. Not ya poncey love wiv da flowers anโ€™ stuff, โ€˜e luvs Sigmar like a choppa luvs a basha. Dey โ€˜unted Godbeasts tagevva, ate up da land tagevva, even fought each uvva. Sigmar wuz one of da few gods dat could give Gorkamorka a challenge, anโ€™ dereโ€™s nuffinโ€™ โ€˜e luvs more den a challenge.โ€

 

Nuklib looks back up at the ashen hammer, and grins all the wider.

 

โ€œDa โ€˜umies, pointy-ears anโ€™ stunties forgot dat evva since Sigmar started kallinโ€™ โ€˜imself da God-King. But we orruks remember when โ€˜e wuz da God-Barbarian. Gorkamorka remembers, an โ€˜e misses โ€˜is mate.โ€

 

He stirs the fire once again, and the flames rise up to devour the hammer.

 

โ€œBut โ€˜eโ€™ll tear inta Azyr wun day, and โ€˜eโ€™ll make Sigmar remember too. Deyโ€™ll get inta da biggest Waaagh! da Realms โ€˜ave evva seen, wiv da uvver gods, wiv da Chaos lads, anโ€™ wiv each uvva. Jusโ€™ as it shud be.โ€

 

Aengellania has long ago broke into a cold, trembling sweat listening to the Weirdnob Shaman. The intensity in his voice scares her, imposing its will upon the world until she feels that what Nuklib spoke of was the absolute truth that she couldnโ€™t ignore. Seeming to sense her fear, Nuklib leans over and pounds her on her back in a friendly manner, for Orruks. She already knows that itโ€™ll leave more bruises on her skin.

 

โ€œBut yoo dunโ€™t โ€˜ave ta worry about dat yet. Yooโ€™ve still got sum time yet ta decide.โ€

 

โ€œD-decide on what?โ€ she asks, massaging her back.

 

The red glint in Nuklibโ€™s eyes deepens and grows as Nuklib stares down at her.

 

โ€œWevva ya want ta join da Waaagh!.โ€

 

Silence deafens Aengellania, only interrupted by the crackling of the fire and the ambience of an Orruk camp at rest.

 

โ€œS-Surely though I canโ€™t. Iโ€™m an ae-aelf and a Lumineth one bes-โ€

 

Nuklibโ€™s chuckling reverberates through her chest again.

 

โ€œAnjy, yoo ainโ€™t been lisseninโ€™ again. Da Waaagh!โ€™s fer a lot more den Orruks. Eโ€™en grotsโ€™ve got a place. Itโ€™s fer all dose dat wanna give up da fings dat dey โ€˜old themselves back wiv.โ€

 

He taps a gnarly claw against her chest.

 

โ€œAn yooโ€™ve got a lot datโ€™s โ€˜oldinโ€™ ya back. Unlike yoo, Iโ€™ve been lisseninโ€™ ta ya. All ya stories yooโ€™ve been sharinโ€™, of all da times ya stopped anโ€™ โ€˜elped out wiv sumwun elseโ€™s problems.โ€

 

Aengellania looks up at the Orruk looming over her, fear of the shaman she thought of as a friend paralysing her.

 

โ€œW-what do you mean?โ€

 

His lips ripple out into an even more inhumanly wide grin.

 

โ€œYooโ€™s afraid.โ€

 

โ€œI-isnโ€™t that a little o-obvious?โ€ Aengellania manages to say, after summoning up a little courage that she hadnโ€™t thought she possessed.

 

Nuklib throws his head back and guffaws aloud.

 

โ€œHa! Course yoo are!โ€

 

He settles down again, but his stare doesnโ€™t relent.

 

โ€œBut yooโ€™s not just scared of me. Yoos scared of gettinโ€™ โ€˜ome, ainโ€™t ya? Scared of gettinโ€™ back ta Hysh and seeinโ€™ what โ€˜appened ta it while yoo were gone.โ€

 

โ€œโ€ฆ A little.โ€ Aengellania admits, remembering the stories sheโ€™s heard of this โ€˜Spirefallโ€™. Just the thought of them makes her cast her eyes down and hug her legs close to her chest.

 

โ€œAn dat ainโ€™t it, either.โ€

 

The young aelf looks back up at him, surprised.

 

โ€œWhat else are you talking about?โ€

 

The old orruk grins and begins beating the end of his staff against the ground in a slow rhythm.

 

โ€œYooโ€™s scared of sumfinโ€™ inside of ya.โ€

 

The pounding gets taken up somewhere else in the encampment, likely by a Warchanter. Aengellania almost asks Nuklib what he meant, when she hears her own heartbeat.

 

It pounds in her chest, in a way thatโ€™s alien to her. Before she had heard it beat when she was afraid, or when Ylthe had kissed her, but like thisโ€ฆ

 

โ€œYooโ€™s afraid of lisseninโ€™ ta da drums. Yooโ€™s afraid of wut yoo might do if ya did.โ€

 

Aengellania blinks, and she sees her Binding dead in front of her, lying together in a way she knew they hadnโ€™t fallen. But it sets her blood alight regardless.

 

โ€œWh-whatโ€™s going on?โ€

 

More images flash past her eyes, of those sheโ€™d encountered during her exodus through the Realms trying to get back to Hysh. The village predated on by those sea-aelves, the tribe of Twinform Wolfpacks she had spent an entire generation with, the Ghyranite resistance to the Maggotkin scatteredโ€ฆ All people she cared about, all in danger.

 

Her hand curls up into a claw, desperate for a weapon.

 

Nuklib nods approvingly at her.

 

โ€œYoo dunโ€™t need ta be scared of it. Yoo can let it out, let it Waaagh!โ€

 

In her mindโ€™s ear the battlecry is taken up by the entire camp around her, swallowing her whole and making it a part of her. She wants nothing more than to scream with them.

 

A booted foot begins erratically beating out the rhythm surrounding her on its own accord.

 

Aengellania looks up at Nuklib. She wants to hit him, she realises. Smiling knowingly at her but saying nothing, as if she canโ€™t tell that heโ€™s manipulating her heart. Somehow she summons up enough control to bring the winds of Hysh and Ulgu to her hands.

 

Nuklibโ€™s smile just keeps widening and widening, until it seems that itโ€™s all thatโ€™s left of him.

 

Aengellania lifts up her hands towards himโ€ฆ

 

And stops.

 

In her memoryโ€™s eye she can see Tyriana Bladebroken reach out to her, the Cathallar moving with a quiet strength and dignity that belies her years. Her hand touches Aengellaniaโ€™s cheek, smoothing down with Hyshian magic a cut she had gotten from a fight, centuries prior to this moment.

 

โ€œWhat happens when we lash out without thought or care?โ€ The old aelf asks her student, her voice gentle and understanding.

 

โ€œWe succumb to anger.โ€ Aengellania whispers to her mentor.

 

Tyriana smiles and nods, pride for Aengellania beaming out like Hysh itself.

 

โ€œAnd what happens when we succumb to anger?โ€

 

Aengellania hesitates, and lets out a deep breath.

 

โ€œWe stumble into Cathartia.โ€

 

She focuses on Tyrianaโ€™s smile, blocking out Nuklibโ€™s. Tyriana, who had been the first to see any worth in her.


โ€œWhy did you choose me to become a Cathallar?โ€

 

Tyrianaโ€™s fingers lightly tuck away an errant hair behind Aengellaniaโ€™s ear.

 

โ€œBecause you love those around you more than they know, Heartmender.โ€

 

Her teacher leans forward and gives Aengellania a soft kiss on her forehead that spreads across her like a soothing balm, fading away as she does so. But her memory remains. The knowledge that she is somewhere in Hysh, waiting for Aengellania to return, remains.

 

Aengellania forces down the roar of rage building within her, even if it requires all of her Cathallar training to do so. Agonising seconds pass as her heart slows down, but she masters it nonetheless. She owes Tyriana nothing less.

 

Nuklib comes back into view. His staff is at rest again, and this time he idly examines Aengellania rather than pierces her with a penetrating stare. He nods at her when he sees her eyes focus on him again.

 

โ€œYeh, I can see why ya scared oโ€™ lettinโ€™ it out.โ€

 

Aengellania lowers her hands, letting the magic in them dissipate.

 

โ€œI canโ€™t stay with your tribe, Nuklib. Iโ€™m sorry.โ€

 

Nuklib grunts a laugh.

 

โ€œYa dunโ€™t need ta be sorry. Sโ€™not for everywun.โ€

 

He tilts his head to the side slightly.

 

โ€œSo ya goinโ€™ on ta Hysh den?โ€

 

Aengellania nods.

 

โ€œYes. Iโ€ฆ I need to return to someone there.โ€

 

โ€œFair enuf.โ€

 

Nuklib idly scratches at on scar, his knowing smile returning.

 

โ€œYa know, I โ€˜eard dat dem Titanflint โ€˜umies know where ta find a Realmgate ta Hysh.โ€

 

The casual ease that he delivers this information is counterpointed by Aengellaniaโ€™s burst of excitement, the object of over a century of travelling suddenly seeming so close to her.

 

โ€œThey do?!โ€

 

Nuklib nods, but lifts a hand up before she can speak again.

 

โ€œBut da boyz wunโ€™t be happy ta let dem live. Ya gunna need ta find a way fer us ta convince dem.โ€

 

โ€œUs?โ€

 

Nuklib nods again.

 

โ€œWut, ya fink deyโ€™ll listen ta a grotty fing like yoo? Dey like ya lots, but yoo ainโ€™t der shaman, Anjy.โ€

 

The grin splits his face once more.

 

โ€œOh, deyโ€™ll lissen ta der shaman alright.โ€

 

Aengellania feels gratitude flood through her. That she had come so close to attacking him was the only cold shadow in her heartโ€ฆ

 

โ€œThank you, Nuklib.โ€

 

โ€œAinโ€™t nuffinโ€™, Anjy.โ€

 

Her mind begins to wander, to plan. An idea pops into her head as her eyes catch on Grunta dung, surrounded by fliesโ€ฆ

 

But before she loses herself to the plotting, a question lodges itself in her mind.

 

She looks up at Nuklib again, curiosity overtaking her.

 

โ€œHow are you so wise, Nuklib? You just seem so moreโ€ฆ Worldly than the other Orruks.โ€

 

โ€œWut, ya fink weโ€™re all fikk?โ€

 

He waves down her embarrassed apologies with a laugh.

 

โ€œNah, I get watcha mean.โ€

 

His red eyes glow in the dark, and Aengellania realises for the first time that theyโ€™re not reflecting the fire before him.

 

Nuklibโ€™s grin widens further as he sees the realisation spread on her expression. His low chuckling reverberates across the camp, like the echoes of the footsteps of a god, while his eyes burn with inner fires.

 

โ€œYa ainโ€™t da only wun dat got a yellinโ€™ from Gorkamorka.โ€

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 A slave for the first 17 years of his life, this crafty serpent-man found favor and fortune as a courier and information broker in Carngrad. After successfully emancipating the cityโ€™s slaves (in favor of an exploitative profit system), he was chosen to lead the armies of Carngrad in the Prime Dominion War. Now he is a war hero and inter-realm crime lord on the Path to Glory.

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More of the Weave:

Khvath Slaveborn

Khvath Slaveborn

 A slave for the first 17 years of his life, this crafty serpent-man found favor and fortune as a courier and information broker in Carngrad. After successfully emancipating the cityโ€™s slaves (in favor of an exploitative profit system), he was chosen to lead the armies of Carngrad in the Prime Dominion War. Now he is a war hero and inter-realm crime lord on the Path to Glory.

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