Aldeena Montalba sat at the edge of the battlements, overlooking the valley passing by. The fortress swayed back and fro, to the rhythm of the Voidfang’s lumbering gait. Despondently, she stared into the distance, where the Chaos Monolith lumbered on, the jungle around it a commotion from the advance of the chaos fanatics’ armed procession.
Aldeena’s tears had long dried up. She couldn’t tell if it was resignation or a terrible sense of hope. This was not how she thought her journey would go.
“Where is he???” Show me my son, I know you have him in there!” demanded Aldeena.
The orruks guarding the ruins stood there with a bored stare, picking at their noses. Their plate armor and colorful tabards made them look very un-orruk-like, if not for their manners.
“Answer me! The witch said this is the place. The Furyoth Dell, in the land of Rhondol, five days edgeward from the Mountains of Maraz.” she gesticulated furiously pointing at the ground. “I’ve been trekking this blasted jungle for months! I am here now. I don’t know who you are, but you are going to take me to your leader!”
One of the orruks puffs his cheeks and rolls his eyes, exhaling in a dismissive manner.
Loud rumblings came from within the ancient structure, and the ground shook. That had been happening for some time.
Aldeena stood there, angry, trying to figure out what to do. Should she leave and try to sneak in around the back? What other guards does this place have, other than these odd orruks decked in plate armor? More of these roving knights? There are too many to try and fight. She can make at least one surprise strike, but that’d bring the whole place down on her.
The ancient place was overgrown and swallowed by the jungle as well as rock formations, at unnatural angles as if the whole region had been fractured by earthquakes, and parts of it had been shuffled upwards and others downwards, and other sideways even. Whoever holds court here cares little for splendor or architectural stability really, but appears to enjoy staying out of sight in such a forsaken place. But this is the place, clearly. Exactly where she was told, in the direction she was told. The mustori’s navigation was flawless. The witch of Izalend shared the location willingly, for she is bound never to lie, but this time she didn’t even try to talk around it. “That cursed woman” Aldeena thought, “brokering deals that tear apart the lives of her own allies. Pretending she did not know what they would take in return.”
“She is with me.” said a voice suddenly. A voice that Aldeena knew oh so well. But it did not come from inside the ruins. It came from behind her.
Aldeena turned slowly, dread spreading in a cold chill up her body. To see her son standing just a few feet away, his clothes pristine and a knowing smile spread across his face. But this was not Darmo. It was the creature.
Its smile, its fake smile, was unsettling. It became a monstrous grin now, widening ear to ear in an unnatural fashion, as the creature no longer bothered to hide its nature. “I told you I’d protect you.” its voice said, echoing unnaturally in her mind. “You arrived safe and sound. I’m happy you let me guide you here.”
Aldeena’s mind was racing. This was a trap, of course. Is the real Darmo even here? Did the witch lie? Why is this creature protecting her? “It’s just a mind game!!” she thought, grinding her teeth, seething in anger. She drew her greatblade from its holster, and held it in a defensive stance.
“Fine. Who iz she, den?” shouted one of the orruks.
The fake-Darmo cleared his throat. “Please let the Enchantress know that I have delivered her crusading huntress, unharmed and healthy. A bit ahead of schedule.” False-Darmo bowed exaggeratedly, a sly smile on its face.
The orruks pause for a bit, then one if them went inside. “See, “mother”? I told you I’d take care of you.” the creature said, with a sarcastic tone.
“Where in the underworlds is Darmo??” Aldeena was breaking down now. She had reached the end of the line of her desperate quest, and now the truth, whatever it was, was finally unfolding. She did not know anymore which direction to walk, which enemy to fight, who to run away from. And now even the witch’s words led her to more manipulation. Gnawing despair was eating at her, that Darmo was no longer here, that she would not find him at all anymore, that this had all been a long game. So long, that it’s becoming hard to decide on what is true. What do they want with her?!?
She had been running on the hope he was alive, it was the nugget of hope left, after finding the “child” she had raised was an abomination. Now, even that hope was cracking.
“I hate you.” She said with a cold spiteful stare. “You disgust me. All those years, you manipulative piece of dung. You ruined our lives. What do you even want from me? Haven’t you taken enough??? I want nothing to do with your turf wars, and your daemons and your digging, whatever it is the hell it is you are doing here!” Aldeena spits at the false-Darmo, who just stood there, arms crossed, a grin across his face.
“Oh, mother. Be a bit more believing. This has all been for a good cause. We are not daemons, and we most definitely want to help you cleanse the taint of Chaos from the Realms.”
“Another lie.” Aldeena thought to herself.
“You accepted the deal, mother. How many people did not fall to the orruks for those many years you spent reclaiming the land? Cut off from reinforcements? And a realmgate opening straight to your hometown right where you were stationed? Coincidence?” The creature cocks and eyebrow, and its features shifted ever so slightly, as if a ripple spread across its skin, its face looking very different for a split second as if someone looked at a reflection on the water surface. A featureless face on a indistinct body, its eyes windows into another world, just staring at them caused nausea, dread and a sense of falling forever into a void of endless light and shadows.
“You agreed to service and a favor returned, and you know the Medium can’t lie. It was your choice to call upon your province’s great shaman, and someone answered. And delivered.” Its eyes become somber, a finger pointing accusingly at Aldeena. “We just wished you did better on of your part of the bargain. I’d have been a model son and made you happy… until we finally needed you. But you had to keep digging, didn’t you. Look at all the years we missed, where we could’ve been happy. I would have loved to live carefree for a bit longer, while I was there. The food was good and the people were nice. You had a nice thing going. And then your meddling got their homes destroyed.” its features return to those of Darmo, its head shaking in disappointment. “You had to ruin our arrangement. You were supposed to stay there for a good while longer. We had things we wanted you to look into. It’s all rather difficult now, after you burned your own home down” it shrugged, disappointed.
“I don’t care!!! Where. Is. Darmo???” Aldeena hissed, her patience stretched and considering ever more desperate plans at this point.
At this point, the loud noise of metal on metal was becaming louder and louder from the inside of the ruins. A couple dozen of fully armored knights, clad in polished plate armor and wearing colorful insignias, march out of the archway. They are decorated with all sorts of beast trophies and wearing cloaks of hide: Aldeena could even tell what kind of beasts some came from. And that frightened her: these were deadly creatures, difficult to hunt. These knights of the Chalice, whatever they were, were expert monster hunters.
With them came a throng of hooded servants, the so-called slag-haulers who have digging all over the valley. Those in the center carried a covered litter, ten times their size, enveloped in draping translucent layers of cloth around a swirling metal frame, such that its shape was spiraled and indistinct. Dozens of little winged sprite creatures flit around it, on shadowy wings.
Despite her anger and increasing despair at what else she could do, Aldeena tried to process what was happening. Why were there orruks guarding this place, and working with these knights? Who were they? Why was she brought here? Is this their leader?
She was probably going to die, but a dread feeling that they wouldn’t allow her to, kept her pushing against fate, just to find the truth.
The humiliating feeling of being manipulated, not understanding what was real, for so long, was crushing her heart and hope, but she hadn’t given up yet.
“Where is my son? Darmo, whom you stole from me. You know him. Answer me.” Her voice was more composed and cold now. Her eyes were slits of hate, and her hands slid to her pack, where her little bit of leverage awaited.
An all-encompasing, ethereal female voice came from within the litter, musical yet somehow booming all around at the same time. “Aldeena Montalba, welcome to the Furyoth Dell. Your son… is safe. He is here with us. And let’s get it out of the way, he does not know you, nor does he care to.”
Aldeena blinked, at first not knowing what to do with the information. What does she mean does not want to? What had she told him?? Brainwashed? Raising her child instead of her. Lies for years.
“Show him to me.” Aldeena said coldly, stepping forward. The knights had their hands on their weapons, but otherwise remained still.
The person within the litter chuckled, and it echoed across the vale. “My dear, you are not in a position to negotiate. You think you are, but you are not. Your son has been well taken care of, and is now part of our glorious army.”
“Let me speak with him!” Aldeena demanded, holding her greatsword forward in challenge.
The Enchantress laughed, an unnatural lilting sound, clearly mocking the huntress. “My Dear, he is already here. Not that he knows himself by that name, nor that he cares one jot about some long lost mother. He is one of my champions, my favoured knights.”
“Brainwashed, then.” Aldeena concluded with dread. It could have been worse. He could’ve been a prisoner, a slave, or tortured endlessly for the pleasure of entertainment or some dark ritual. There are worse things.
There is still hope, then.
As long as she can save him from dying for these creatures’ cause.
“All of you, knights!” Aldeena shouted. “You have been lied to. This…” she chose her words carefully. “…entity here has stolen you from your real people, your parents, your loved ones. You have been living a lie all your life. My son is among you, and like you, he has missed an entire life of love away from his parents and siblings!”
The Enchantress laughed loudly and mockingly at these words. “You mean a life of “love” in the mud, fighting orruks and cultists, building houses on cursed ground, and fearing being eaten every day by monsters? All because someone said a man with a hammer told them you should?”
The Enchantress lifted the veils of her litter, and peeked outside, stepping out with one leg. This woman was fully twelve feet tall, draped in a cloak and veil of feathers, falling from an elaborate wide headdress, her features dazzling and beautiful to the point of being indistinct. Her mocking yet friendly smile was disarming and warm, but imposing and commanding at the same time. Fear gripped Aldeena, despite her having accepted her life was forfeit long before, during this quest. She could feel her will buckle just by looking at this woman.
“Break a fang, you won’t get into my head!” Aldeena grunted, averting her eyes. “First Sargeant Montalba did not get to survive a war against the Crimson Horde without mind training. I have faced the madness and illusions of Chaos, I can certainly face you.”
“I commend your skills, First Sargeant. But child, we are not daemons.” The Enchantress said seriously. “I am older than the foundations of these realms, and I have seen the ups and downs of the endless fight against Chaos. I’ve seen the price those who are willing to shed blood to fight it are always paying. An open fight, a ruthless mindless battle, an empty pride sending children to the slaughter. Righteous combat.” She says with disdain. “Ohoh. And Chaos always wins eventually, because it is patient, and because it plans. It does not fight fair. Neither should anyone else.”
The Enchantress glides slowly towards Aldeena, and crouches down to her eye level. “If you follow a God, child, you need to understand that you are both a toy, a pet and a tool, depending on the times. In times of war, you will be discarded when your task is done, because they don’t care about you as an individual. They care about your people as a whole, making it through, in some way. To serve them in the future. They thing big, but they don’t care about people. They are willing to discard any of their tools for their lofty dreams.”
The Enchantress stands up, to her full height, her sillouette seemingly engulfing the entire periphery of Aldeena’s vision. Her headdress opens up revealing itself as a pair of wings spreading from her temples, her hair a flowing cape of feathers falling down her back.
“I want you to work for us. And if you do, you can be with your son, your real son.
We will liberate the realms, we, their first inhabitants. We remember what came before, and we have seen the mistakes of the gods. We are not the only ones who want them out of our lives. But we do have a weapon others do not: you have seen it.” She gestures towards one of the lumbering monsters ridden by one of the knights. “The blood of Drakatoa, the living Avalanche. Yes, it was real, and it did really contain and pacify Gorkamorka. We witnessed it. Even shattered to pieces, the remains of the godbeast retain its potency. The people of this valley knew this well. I’m sure you understand the change we can bring. The power to control Ghur itself is ours.” The enchantress leans down to eye level with Aldeena. “I want you to be our eyes and ears, and help us with recruitment.”
Something snapped within Aldeena, at this outrageous ridiculous proposition, and this kicked her combat instincts into gear. Reaching into her pack, she grabbed the device she had been hiding for so long, and with one swift motion, she stepped backwards, clicked a switch and threw the contraption at the so-called enchantress. The device was a spherical ball of brass six inches wide, of crude but intricate construction, and as it activated it let through a shining sickly green glow from its innards. The Enchantress’ eyes grew wide. The glow increased and then turned into a dark yawning void, and the world seemingly bent into itself as if a hole had been punched out of reality. It grew hungrily, devouring the air around it with a screech, swelling to fully forty feet in diameter. But another individual had stepped in front of the enchantress, having pushed her aside. How did he move that fast? A brave knight stepped in front of the oncoming void, and the screeching sound of bending metal was mixed with a suffering scream, as its form was twisted in a swirling pattern, before being cut abruptly short as the void disappeared in a blink.
Only the mangled form of the knights’ left side remained, the rest of it a bloody mess of tangled armor.
“Hunting bastard.” Aldeena cursed under her breath. The glove on the hand she grabbed the orb with was burst into scraps, the skin of her palm burned and her pinky finger elongated into a boneless prehensile tentacle, twitching with its own will. Handling the cursed device directly took its toll.
The false Darmo giggled. “Never one for half measures, are you?”
The enchantress slowly rose, her face an inscrutable serene mask. Then her grin widened unsettlingly. “I like your resourcefulness, Sargeant Montalba. This is why we want you. You don’t stop until you reach your goal. The future holds great things for you, we have seen it.”
Aldeena had played her hand: it had been her best chance, but it seems she can’t even beat the reflexes of these knights. She won’t get another shot at her enemy, who has tormented her for so long.
The Enchantress folded her arms and exhaled. “I apologize, I’ve spent too much time being overly dramatic. Let’s get down to business. Ser Albaine!” One of the knights, dressed in a bright blue tabard, marched next to them. “My lady.”
“Remove your helmet, please.” The knight did as he was told, and the enchantress gestured towards him, staring at Aldeena. The young man looked very much like the fake face her son’s impersonator had worn all these years, but broad and more rugged. He had a scar on his left cheek, and his nose was crooked. His eyes, however, were vivid and sharp, almost shining with an inner light. He looked older than twenty winters though, likely due to a lot of hardship.
“Work for us, Sargeant Montalba, and you can spend more time with your son. We need you back in Aqshy.” offered the Enchantress.
Aldeena froze, taken aback, suspecting another deception. The tears wouldn’t even come. She narrowed her eyes. “How do I know this is even my son? What have you put him through?”
The Enchantress smirked. “You do not. Take my offer or don’t. Your son has a grander purpose, and his bravery is honored by all here and beyond.”
Aldeena eyed the man, who remained impassive, studying her as well. “Are you Darmo? Do you remember me?”
” I am Ser Albaine. I was raised by the Great Enchantress’s damsels and knights. I have been told you are my birth mother.” the man said, letting a slight trace of apprehension cross his features. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope you join us in our glorious quest.” He bowed to her, and at this point her feelings finally burst. Tears ran down her face, a mix of relief, nostalgia, dread, sadness, and a deep anger all mixed into one. Aldeena just stood there, biting her lip, frustrated, her hand still holding her greatsword in a fighting stance. She had no idea what to do next: all she had left and fought for in her entire world right now was, if they could be believed, standing in front of her. She has sacrificed her whole life to find him.
She cried quietly and angrily for a minute, her eyes locked with the knight, the words not finding their way to her mind. The Enchantress waited patiently, with a smirk on her face.
“Why do you want to leave me alive?” Aldeena hissed at the tall Fae woman. “I’ll never forgive you, you know you I will kill you in your sleep at every chance I get.” she threatened spitefully.
“Your resourcefulness almost makes me worry.” said the Enchantress with a chuckle. “Go ahead and try. But remember the position you are in. Ser Albaine, would you die for me?”
“Of course, my lady. Two times over.” The knight bowed his head in dedication.
The Enchantress turns her gaze to Aldeena, and the smile disappeared from her face. “Your son lives or dies by my wishes. I hope you understand the position you are in. Please make the right choice.”
Former First Sargeant Montalba collected her thoughts and stepped away from the crenellations of the fortress. The ruined structure swayed softly, floating somehow just above the back of the giant creature they called Voidfang. The feats these creatures are capable of are terrifying. And now they march, out of the Furyoth Dell, in a living mobile fortress, surrounded by an army of tamed monsters.
She was exhausted and despondent, and nothing in her life made sense anymore. The crusade, the teachings of Sigmar, her honor as a freeguild soldier…. All gone, in favor of solving her own personal grudge. So many years. Avenging her own family’s tragedy, abandoning an entire life. It was all to save her son…
Now that a “resolution” had been reached, she found what had happened, having an answer… she was not sure anymore. She had not thought much of it before, but now that she finally managed to stop, stopped running, resigned to a decision… the doubts came.
She felt like a spider caught in a web, the blackmail and her own feelings towards her estranged son the invisible silken threads, and the Enchantress and her Fae allies the fat spiders at the center. She felt a strange sense of confusion, unsure of whether she was safe or not, after being on the run alone for more than a year.
She will take it one day at a time. Maybe build a relationship with Darmo slowly. Maybe things can change. Maybe she can find a way to kill the Enchantress. Maybe someone else can kill her.
Maybe if she bides her time, she might turn this around.
