Grudgebearer (Warhammer) by Gav Thorpe

Author:Gav Thorpe [Thorpe, Gav]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 33541645
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

58

“I don’t intend to walk all the way to Karak Hirn, only to find there’s no sign of him,” said Barundin, shouldering his pack.

Dran tapped his nose. “I make my money doing this, your highness,” said the Reckoner. “I know how to find folk, and Wanazaki’s no different. Mark my words, he doesn’t know much, but he’s clever enough to stick to the old North Road.”

“It’s been nearly twenty years since I last saw him,” said Barundin as Dran waved to the other rangers to assemble. “He could be in Nuln by now.”

“Well, you’ve got a choice then, haven’t you?” said Dran. “Turn back now before we’ve walked too far, and forget about Dukankor Grobkaz-a-Gazan and Vessal, or we can get going.”

“Lead on,” said the king.

The gates of Karak Varn were a pitiable sight. Gaping into the darkness beyond, the great portal was thrown open, half sunk in the water. The ancient faces of the kings of Karak Varn carved into the stone had been worn away, leaving only the faintest of marks, which could barely be seen from the shore.

The entire lakeside around the area was littered with the spoor of grobi and other creatures, though none of it recent by the estimate of Dran. Just like most living things, even greenskins preferred not to venture too far abroad in the winter, and they would be in the dark places of the fallen hold away from the harsh light.

The dwarfs turned away from the depressing view, skirting the hold to the west, looking down upon the foothills of the World’s Edge Mountains. To the west these rugged, rock-strewn hills gave way to the meadows and pastures of the Empire, and on the edge of vision at the horizon the dark swathe of the forests that swept across most of the manling realm.

South and west they travelled, leaving behind the bleak shores of Blackwater, passing the desolate, ruined towers that had once been the outlying settlements of Karak Varn. Now they were overgrown and barely visible; they were the dens of wolves and bears, and other, more wicked, creatures.

The mountains shallowed as they neared the Black Fire Pass, though their route took them across steep ridges and amongst the broad shoulders of the World’s Edge Mountains, as if cutting across the grain of the mountain range. Dran led them on without pause or doubt, finding caves and hollows when the weather turned foul, which it did often. Usually they pressed on even into the last flurries of snow and the gales that howled up the valleys from the Border Princes and Badlands to the south.

On the seventeenth day after leaving Zhufbar, having covered some two hundred and twenty miles as the crow flies, they came upon the mountainside of Karag Kazak. Below them, the slope fell steeply to the floor of the pass, dotted with pines and large boulders. Though it was just before noon and there were many hours left in the day, Dran made camp. By the light of the noon sun, he led them a short way from the dell where their packs were left.

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