The Hero of Glymmsforge by Games Workshop LTD

Author:Games Workshop LTD
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Games Workshop LTD
Published: 2018-05-15T14:13:19+00:00

That night, in his flea-infested bunk, Captain Malendrek dreamed fitfully. He dreamed of screaming, skull-like faces in the sky, and of a vast, impossible pyramid suspended over a bottomless pit. A rustling, bone-dry voice whispered on the cold, cutting wind that rushed towards that abyss.

With the strange logic of dreams, he knew who was speaking to him, for he had spoken to him before, and likely would do again. His mother had told him about this whisperer, many times, when he was a child too curious about the world to go to sleep. It was the voice of Elder Bones, a wizard-king from the olden days of Shyish, who was famous before Lyria had even been named, let alone Glymmsforge. Despite the whisper being on the cusp of hearing, he could feel the voice resonating in his skull, every syllable seeping into his bones.

‘You deserve respect,’ the voice said. ‘You deserve to be obeyed. Just as I do. Obeyed without question.’

Part of Malendrek found itself in agreement.

‘A new order is coming,’ said the voice. ‘I have chosen you to lead, as well as to follow, in that new worldscape. Open the way. Dig out the purple salt from the arcanogram at the south gate mausoleum. Replace it with sand of the same hue, and leave.’

Malendrek frowned and muttered in his sleep, not quite understanding, but feeling some manner of kinship nonetheless.

‘I am no false god, no warrior elevated above his station. I am a king, and though my rightful domain has fallen, it will rise again. Hands such as yours will open the way, until Sigmar and his golden fools are put back in their place forever more.’

The slumbering captain knew, somehow, that Elder Bones understood what it felt like to be supplanted, to be overruled, to have what was rightfully his snatched away. Perhaps he wasn’t a figure of terror after all. Perhaps he was just a man, a lost soul, misunderstood and longing for what should have been his all along.

This one, he could follow. This one would give him his rightful due.

The old captain turned in his bunk, pulled his threadbare blanket across his back, and dreamed of finally getting the laurels he so richly deserved.

A new dawn would be here soon enough.

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