A Coward's Reward

Fear was clawing at him, like a hungry wolf clawed at the door. Marinus Brutus was the first to admit he was no hero. He enlisted in the Steelhelms because it was a nice extra pay at the end of the month and an excuse to get out of a shift out of the mines. He never expected to see battle. And yet here he was, on the silver fields miles away from the safe city walls of Deatholme. He shivered as a cold wind ran through him like a dagger, he wore a leather cuirass beneath his silver breastplate and still it did nothing for the cold. His purple cloak waved behind like the banner above his head. He saw the bronze dragon head roaring on a purple field, as if in defiance to all those who would dare oppose the great city. If it was meant to inspire courage, it failed its duty. At least in Marinus' case.

For the fifteenth time he wished he was back home, back in bed with his wife Nadja or Helga.

By Sigmar he didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to Nadja that morning when he got dragged out from the street...

The ground shook beneath his feet like a rampaging gargant was raging beneath them.

"Finally." the veteran-sergeant spat on the floor. She was a hard woman, tall and pale like most of the other in the regiment with short silver hair, she could almost pass for human were it not for her pointy aelven ears. Her face had a dark beauty to it, hardened by war. Still, he would never attempt to bed her, he knew she was not the type to like his flowery words that seduced others so easily. Moira Valencia Dimetria was a half-aelf and a veteran of many wars. She led battles against the ratmen, nighthaunt and even the odd greenskin raid. She had fought it all and won. The same could not be said of her regiment which always seemed to suffer the harshest of casualties. The Poor Bastards, they were called. Always placed in the vanguard of any engagement.

She picked up her helmet that hung from the pommel of her blade that was embedded on the ground and placed it on her head." Was wondering when the duardin would do their job. Alright boys and girls, get ready. We got ratmen coming for us in three minutes, make your prayers to whomever quick, we got work to do." She gave a nod to the trumpeter who quickly blew out the ready tune. A tune that was picked up too the other regiments besides them.

"Oh shit, it's real now..." Tristan said. His friend breathed a long sigh, a long lanky fellow with sunken eyes. "No going back now. Why did you drag me into this?"

"We could use the pay." Marinius said.

"You use half of that pay to bribe me to lie to Nadja about where you go at night shifts. Does she even know you've enlisted?"

"No and you haven't stopped taking my bribes so don't act like you're a Sigmarite priest." he glared.

Tristan snorted and did not reply, letting the matter be. This was his first battle as well and it showed. He tried to control the shaking but failed. A few soldiers in their regiments likewise showed similar mannerisms.

"Ready arms!" Moira cried.

Marinus saw his own regiment ready their swords and shields, some muttering a prayer to Sigmar, others to Lauchon the Soulseeker while most stood ready with grim determination. Their regiment was quiet compared to their neighbours. The duardin were singing in their native tongue of khazalid, their armour completely silver save for their short purple cloaks and golden bands which hung in their beards. They all had massive warhammers which were nearly their size. Before them walked a younger-looking duardin with a copper-like beard. He wore armour like his compatriots save for the small banner that seemed to extend from his back which showed a similar symbol of the bronze dragon surrounded with khazalid text. He was speaking out loud, his visage hidden behind a horned helmet. Prince Hadgar Durnison, the youngest son of the Duardin King and the only member of the royal family willing to fight alongside their human and aelven allies.

Marinus managed to pick up a few words he learnt of Helga and other duardin women he bedded.

"Brothers of the deep! Children of rock and stone!" Prince Hadgar cried as he walked past his line. He began to thumb his chest with his free hand as his right held his own smaller warhammer over his shoulder.

"Uzkular! Uzkular!" the duardin warriors cried.

"Hammers in the dark! Breakers of earth!" He began to thumb his chest harder, a motion some of the duardin warriors began to enact as well.

"Uzkular! Uzkular!" they cried.

"The raki have come to die!" He turned to face his men; his thumbs became full of punches on his own plated chest." WHAT WILL BE THE LAST THING THEY HEAR?!"

"UZKULAR! UZKULAR! UZKULAR!" A sound of fury and steel answered their prince.

"Duardin..." Tristan next to Marinus shook his head." Always so loud..."

"You're telling me..." Marinus said, his mind going to Helga.

*******************************************************

It was early in the morning when he awoke next to her, his duardin lover. Or rather she woke him by giving him a shove. She was a boxom beauty, long bronze hair, breasts the size of water-melons that tasted like the sweetest of fruits and had the curviest of hips. Freckles were beneath her blue eyes that glistened like diamonds. She looked at him with need.

"My husband will be back in an hour from his shift; you need to shove off quick."

"Alright, alright..." Marinus yawned." Morning to you as well..." He stretched, unwilling to leave the warm bed not quite yet. It was bigger than his own bed back on the surface, as was the house. Joys of being a mining overseer in the Death Hole. The house was located on the top circle of the inhabited side of the pit, only one lift ride away from the surface.

"I'm not joking, Marinus. You got to go, now." Helga said." He will kill you if he finds you here."

"In a moment." Marinus said." First breakfast." Before Helga could reply he dove beneath the burgundy covers. Like a bone-kestrel who dove for prey, so too did Marinius lunge for between Helga's legs. The duardin woman sighed with pleasure as his tongue found her diamond and began to lick it. She moaned, placing her hands on the back of his head and pulled him closer, tugging at his black hair. His hands went to her hips and held on to them, a nice warmth in a realm surrounded by cold and death. She saw nothing but the vague shape of a head beneath her cover.

"Ah, yes... Valaya's teats yes!" Helga arched her back as he continued his ministrations, her chest heaving with the sudden onset of pleasure. She closed her eyes, her breath coming faster and faster. His right hand left her hip on that side and moved to her teat. There, his thumb began to knead her nipple. He squeezed gently, moved it around as he remained focused on her diamond. Her arrival came close now, like a rampaging cavalier charge. Her screaming echoed through the thankfully soundproof walls. For her size she sounded like a gargant or the Denthir that lived deep beneath the pit.

"Mari... i'm coming... i'm... COMING!" She cried as she reached her pleasure that ran down her body like hot lava. Like a volcano it exploded and washed her human's lover's beard and face with her juices. She sighed heavily, a happy smile on her face. Her lover rose up, the cover slid off his head and back, his erect manhood aimed at her entrance. Sweat covered both their bodies, a scent mix of warmth and sex hung in the air. He placed his hands on opposites sides of her head, careful not to stand on her frazzled coppery long hair.

"Grugni's hammer, I love that thing..." she smiled and nodded at Marinius. He did not wait long; he had a deadline after all. He plunged.

Helga gasped as her human lover entered her fully, his entrance aided by his previous ministrations. He would normally start slow and build up but he had no time for that. She had her pleasure, now was his. With each thud of flesh on flesh, Helga gasped and moaned. Each undulation a praise to one of the ancestor gods.

"Oh Grimnir, Oh Grugni, Oh Velaya! Yes Mari, YES!!!" she cried with each thrust. He kept thrusting inside her, grunting louder and louder as his own arrival was on the horizon. Her teats swing with each thrust, a mesmerizing sight that he had seen multiple times before but never could get enough of. Even his own wife's breasts couldn't hold his attention like Helga's could. He did not feel any guilt for the betrayal; it had been months since they shared a bed together like this in fear of harming the babe that grew inside of her. Utter nonsense of course but he would not pursue the issue, he did love Nadja enough not to argue with her. Instead Marinius would find his pleasures elsewhere, be it with a human or aelf or in this case, a duardin housewife whose husband did not spend enough time with. When the babe was born and Nadja was willing to sleep with him again, he could stop pretending to go on night shifts and sleep with his overseer's wife.

The bed creaked beneath them with each thud, a constant banging on the wall. Her cries filled the house's walls again.

With a last grunt he lunged one last time and unleashed his essence inside her. Ropes of his seed filled her womb in several spurts. He gave a few more thrusts to make sure he was fully emptied before he rolled off his lover.

"Praise Sigmar..." he panted." That was good."

"Aye..." she placed her arm over her forehead, her chest heaved." You... came in me again. If I have a wee one and he knows it's not his..."

"It's fine..." Marinius said." Worse come, I'll do the right thing..."

As far as she knew, Marinus had no spouse. She never asked, he wouldn't tell. The moment his child was born he'd be the dotting husband and Helga would be cast aside. She had more to lose than him. Until then, he'd enjoy her.

She turned to face him." You will?"

He smirked." Of course, I always rise to the occasion. They don't accept cowards in the Steelhelm regiment."

Helga laughed." My soldier hero..."

He pulled her on top of him and kissed her deeply, making use of the last thirty minutes. He'd taste her teats, ssuckle on them like a babe and when he's stuff again, let her ride him like a cavalier on a steed. There was time left and he'd use every single second of it.

Tristan would cover for him until then.

***********************************************************************

The scruffy ratman lunged at him with a rusty blade. Marinius wailed as he smacked the blade thrust aside with his own and tried to stab at it. He could not run as he was but one body in a sea of bodies. The ground in front of the lines had exploded as hordes of ratmen climbed out of their tunnels to escape the horrors the duardin miners had unleashed to drive them out. The Deatholme forces lunged forward and began killing the ratmen en mass, but there were so many rats. Soo damn many. The Poor Bastards, as always, were the first in the fray along with Prince Hadgar's honour guard and the Silver Blades. Deatholme steel met the ratmen infestation. Battle cries filled the air as blood sprayed, and limbs and heads flew. The Poor Bastards fought in the legion formation, being relieved every minute and moved to the pack of the regiment or replaced if killed. Like Tristan who got a sword in his gut and got it pulled out with the blade now pointed at his face. It had been only his turn for ten seconds.

"Die-die, manthing! DIE-DIE!" the creature who killed Tristan cried.

Marinius had no witty retort or a heroic reply, he just screamed and wished he could run. He was a miner for Sigmar's sake! Basic training didn't say how big they were! Or how awful they smelt! "You scream-cry like-like pig-swine!" the skaven swung at him with a rabid vigour. It was all bites and claws and feral nastiness. He tried to stab at the creature, forgetting all his training. The skaven blocked the strike and pushed it aside, Marinius' sword flew out of his hand.

"Sigmar no!" Marinius cried and tried to flee but instead backed up against someone. He looked back and saw it was another steelhelm like him who frowned at his panic. He pushed him aside and tried to rush past the others behind him.

"Brutus!" He heard Moira cry out." Get back in formation! BRUTUS YOU COWARD!" But it was to late.

The hole he left behind was eagerly taken advantage off. Like a dam it began with one hole as a skaven filled in and slew the man behind Marinius. Then three more piled in, breaking apart the shield wall. His fellow soldiers no longer attempted to stop Marinius as he ran past them as they attempted to stop the wall from breaking completely.

Marinius broke past his regiment and ran, the scene before him complete chaos.

Cavaliers on horseback charged past him into a rat swarm that began to pile over the steel wall. Steel and horse muscle clashed into rathide and badly made armour as they hacked and stomped into it. The line began to fall back in an attempt to regroup as the bannerman began to wave to rally. He heard the trumpet call which called for the rally but he kept running. He couldn't die, not like Tristan! He had to get back home to his wife! Back to Nadja!

*******************************************************

He had just arrived home. The lift from the pit to the surface always scared him. When he was in the mines, you couldn't see the pitch blackness of the pity that seemed to stretch forever and ever. A large hole that could fit a whole city, a gaping blackness that would swallow everyone whole. And yet the duardin made their homes here, having carved their homes, shops, mines and even fungi farms inside the aperture that surrounded the hole. Inside the duardin homes and even the mines where Marinius worked it wasn't too bad as the hole was nowhere to be seen but on the major promenade if you glanced over the safety wall, or the lift upwards to the surface... it was the stuff of nightmares.

It was a world of difference once he reached the surface along with other commuters, from the nicely carved streets, braziers alit and statues of the aperture to the city outside of the hole. Deatholme was like any other city of Sigmar he was told. As he stepped out of the elevator threshold he was greeted by the sounds of pedestrians going about their business, a distant bell chime from the church of Sigmar and the sounds of the common tongue, aelfish and khazalid. Humans, aelfs and duardin walked and talked amongst themselves in a city that was about two centuries old.

Paved roads which were hastily made, buildings that ranged from decent to ramshackle the further you moved away from the hole. Marinius lived far away from the hole. It took him a good hour before he arrived at his home, a large apartment building of which one space of three rooms was his and Nadja's.

He walked up three flights of stairs before he reached his floor. He reached for his key and opened it.

"Marinius, is that you?!" a voice cried out for him.

"Yes, it is, Nadja!" he replied as he entered their little space in the city. It was a cozy home, almost pauper compared to the richly lavished home he had spent the night. Nadja was in the kitchen, her long black hair tied back as she wore an apron. He could smell bacon and eggs. She had a darker shade of colour to his, she was of Aqshy the realm of fire. How and why she ended up in Shyish was beyond Marinius and it was the one thing she forbade him to ask her about. She was like a candle in a dark room. Small but warm, bringing light to a bleak and cold world. When she turned and smiled at him, he couldn't help but smile back.

He moved in and kissed her deeply, kissing her with the same lips he had used to make love to another woman. He wrapped him arms around her, enjoying the moment.

"How was your shift?" she asked after they had let go and began serving the food unto two plates.

"Same as usual. Boring..." he lied and sat down in the chair.

"I wish you would stop taking those extra shifts, Marinius. You're working a lot of hours for little money." she dished out the scrambled eggs with bacon." It's not like we're struggling."

"Just building a bit of capital, love." he smiled." And it won't be for long. When the little one is here, I'll be around more often."

"I suppose..." Nadja replied and sat down on her end of the small table. They ate in silence for a moment; nothing was heard but the sound of cutlery on plates... and the sound of that damn bell still. It wasn't the alarm bell, this one was duller, heavier.

"So... I spoke with Nerisa last night." she began. Marinius' heart stopped for a moment. His mind went back to two years prior when the Ghyran woman was his lover. He often took her like a hound in heat in this very appartment. The sound of her sqeals with every thrust, his pelvis hitting her tanned buttocks and the unleashing of his seed inside her. He never did quite understand why she broke up with him and went with that son of an orruk, Titus.

"What about her?" Marinius sighed.

"She said you punched Titus again last night, Marinius." she glared.

"He was insulting you, Nadja!" he placed his cutlery down." He called you a mudblood! I couldn't let that stand! You know how these outsiders are!"

"Outsiders?" she raised her brow.

"Nadja-"

"I am an outsider, Marinius. It's not because we're married, I stopped being from Hammerhall as well." she used that name uneasily, like it was a realm of dread. Who would trade a realm of fire for one where the sky was gray or pitch black and filled with dead stars? The bell was still chiming.

"We agreed not to talk about that at all, so why does it matter if I beat up this bastard who has it coming?"

"Because he is a bastard who doesn't deserve the time of day and you should be able to ignore him."

"I don't know how things were done in Hammerhall but over here if someone disrespects you or your woman, you beat the snot out of them!" The bell still chimed. "Why is that bell still going?!"

"Don't bullshit me Marinius Brutus, that is a lie! If you beat someone up, the guard get called in! What will our wee one think about his father being in jail?!"

"Why is it every time we have an argument you bring the wee one into this! It's like your shield!"

"Because at this point, I have to do the thinking for the three of us!" she snapped. The bell STILL kept going.

"What in the name of Sigmar is going on with that bell?!"

"What bell?!" Nadja cried frustrated.

There was a knock on the door. Marinius blinked as did Nadja, both their anger replaced with confusion.

"Are we expecting anyone?" he asked.

"No, we paid up for the month and Marla from next door left for Lethis yesterday." Nadja replied. Another banging on the door.

Marinius stood up and walked to the door. He opened it and was greeted by two city guards, a pale human woman and an dark skinned aelf male. "Marinius Brutus?" the aelf asked.

"Yes?"

"Didn't you hear the bell? You've been called." He said as he took a neutral stance.

He blinked." What? Call for what?"

The female guard 's face was impassiv, as if she had faced this scenario several times already today. Probably did. " When you signed up for the Freeguild you signed that when the bell was called you would muster to the Freeguild Barracks. It's been ringing for two hours. If you refuse to come with us we will have to arrest, you."

"Marinius? What is she talking about?" Nadja asked.

"N-nothing, just a misunderstanding..." he lied." I'll go sort this out in the barracks. Back in a minute."

The last thing he heard was Nadja calling his name as he closed the door behind him.

****************************************************************************

The ground met him as he tripped over the corpse of a felow steelhelm, cut in half from the navel. Cold mud and silver dirt smashed in his face. He spat out the dust as he crawled back up to his knees. The ground thundered beneath him as more men rushed past. Everywhere he looked his own side and ratmen fought and died. A group of aelven knights on purple skinned lizard-like creatures charged towards him, swords and jousts aimed before them. Marinius stared at the creatures running towards him. They had dark purple skin aside from some blue scales dotted across their hides. Despite their bipedal nature they ran as fast as any steed, their front paws crouched and ready to strike like vipers, rows of sharp teeth greeted him as the beasts foamed at the mouth, their blue cold eyes hungered for blood. In the distant part of his brain he recognised what these things were. The offspring of the Denthir, tamed by the darkling aelves. Funny, he thought they'd be bronze like their sire instead of purple.

He could not move; fear had claimed his mind. He could not even open his mouth to scream when they ran towards him.

He was knocked down as one beast tackled him in the shoulder as they ran past, seen as nothing more as an obstacle, not even an obstacle he humbly thought as he was swatted aside like a corpse fly. He rolled around as he kept his eyes on the knights.

They ran towards a small group of skaven that tried to run tail and run from them. Their flight was cut short as the knights crashed into them, swords and jousts made quick work of the ratmen who tried to resist... but the bloodiest work was done by their mounts. The lizard creatures bite and tore through the skaven, tearing them apart like uncooked chickens. They tore through them, ripped off pieces of arms and organs and gulped them down like ravenous beasts.

A regiment of duardin warriors that struggled to hold back the vermintide suddenly gained the upper hand as the skaven saw what happened to their fellows. Their morale broke like mist come the dawn. Duardins hatred for the ratmen ran generations deep, they followed the raki back to their tunnels if they could. When they ran, the bearded warriors followed.

One of the larger Skaven, a large creature the size of a gatehouse, ruled by bloodlust rather than fear, charged at the incoming duardin. The faster smaller skaven ran around it, the slower ones got trampled by it. The duardin did not fear the incoming boulder and again roared to meet it head on. The impact was akin to a thunderstrike, some duardin were turned into bloodstains in impacted silver armour where others flew. And yet more duardin slammed their axes into the thing.

Crossbow bolts began to strike it from afar as huntsmen fired their weapons at the beast from afar. Their hunting hounds much like the lizard creatures from before ran after the smaller skaven, one hound tackling one down and tearing into the ratman.

"Cut them down, cut them down, cut them down!" the lead hunter cried. Another hunter quickly pitched up an arbalist and had it aimed at the larger skaven. The bolt flew true and hit the creature straight in the back, by the time it fell it was like a porcupine. Covered in bolts from all sides, slain by them and axe blows. A loud cry went up as a bloodied Prince Hadgar slew another skaven, his warhammer covered in brain and bone. He aimed it at the fleeing enemy." GET THE BLIGHTERS BEFORE THEY GET BACK TO THE TUNNELS! UZKULAR!"

"UZKULAR!" the duardin cried as they charged, as did even a few human huntsmen.

A loud screech blasted over the battlefield. Marinius held his hands over his ears but it did nothing to stop the sound from coming through, He looked up and saw the source fly past and wish he hadn't. A large skull with a trail of smaller ghosts that clung to it like a cloak flew overhead like a deathly comet, atop its brow was a large purple crown. He recognised the literal face of death from all the stories. The stories meant to warn, to frighten, to horrify. Nagash. His heart grew cold, his breathe shuddered. The head turned to another swarm of rats. The ghosts beneath it began to swarm as it seemed to inhale for the better lack of a term. When it screamed, half the swarm dropped dead on the spot.

"Sigmar, save me..." Marinius whimpered.

"Oh, he's not here. I am." a dark, sultry voice said. He turned to the voice... and all went black.

*********************************************************************

When he stirred from darkness, it was as if being awakened from a warm sleep. A nice sensation was around his manhood, a nice sucking motion. Even with his eyes closed he could feel the warm mouth around his cock. He willed his eyes to open to see. When he awoke, it was in a warm bed. He was naked as the day he was born... and an aelf was tending to his member. She had dark skin like most of her kin, as dark as the pit. Her hair was long and silver, like a streaking comet. Her features were fair, very fair. The aelf's fine, black skin highlighted her high cheekbones, tapered jaws and full bloodred lips that were engulfed around his already erect cock.

She was an expert, he could tell. He couldn't help but groan as he began to feel his arrival come. The sucking stopped the moment he groaned. She moved her head away.

"Good, you are awake." the aelf said. She wore nothing but a faint metalic armour that covered her breasts and a large belt shaped like a spider in front of her waist which held up long flowing purple robes.

"Who... where..?" Marinius tried to speak.

"Don't talk." she commanded with an sultry yet authorative voice. She moved her hands behind her back and undid her breastplate. The armour fell to the ground with a soft clang, showing her petite but firm breasts, straighter than Nadja's and Helga's. He eyes went wide open, any tiredness washed aside by lust.

"All you need to know is I know who you are Marinius Brutus." she undid her belt and dropped her robes likewise to the floor, her nether lips naked and already glistening." And that you have been chosen." Without much ceremony, she embedded herself on his pole.

She moved like water in a glass, gliding down before swelling. She rolled and broke against his hips before she flowed right back. She made little sighs as each undulation fell into his manhood. Her long, silver hair wove around her like sand in a storm. "That's it, Marinius..." she moaned." You may use your hands to touch me..."

He held her narrow waist with both hands and began to move with her, his thoughts turned to lust.

Gradually she moved against him, her lithe shape rising and falling in a sensuous rhythm. Marinius praised Sigmar for this heaven he was given and like a dog followed her tempo as it increased. He began to moan as it went faster, thrusting deeper and deeper.

"Wh-what... ah... name?" he asked in between thrusts.

"Morena, ah! You, ah, may call me, ah, Morena!" she replied.

"Morena!" he cried as he fully began pumping into her. Morena, as the aelven goddess above him called herself, tossed back her hair. He felt his arrival coming, at any moment he would unload his seed inside her. She rode him harder, like one of the aelven knights did to the lizard spawn of Denith. With a loud cry, he climaxed as he unloaded his seed inside her womb.

"MORENAAA!" he cried.

"KHAAAAINE!" she cried as she reached her own climax. He closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasure and bliss. This was the best lay he had ever had. Better than Nadja. Better than Helga. Better than any one of his previous lovers.

When he opened his eyes and wanted to thank Morena, he was greeted by a dagger. Before he could speak the dagger descended into his chest. His screams died quickly as did his heart when with expert, delicate fingers the aelven sorceress cut it out of his chest.

She raised the still beating heart in the air before it expired and drank the life blood from it. She squeezed it like an orange, draining the vitae dry from it with every drop. Some of the blood fell on her neck ad breasts, a scarlet crimson on a pitch black skin.

She sighed a slake of relief. She felt herself rejuvenate, both her youth and her magic.

The illusion around her disappeared, the warm bed transformed into a stone slab on a stone circle, surrounded by aelven runes. She stood up, her former lover's manhood gone limp as it slipped out of her, the last of his legacy oozing out of her or running to her womb.

She smirked to herself as she descended from the slab and sauntered to a bellcord that hung in the room. The Bleakswords entered the room mere moments after it was pulled, undisturbed by the sight of their naked sorceress or the slain human, their eyes blank." Remove the body, toss it in the pit with the others. I think Denthir earned a snack." she ordered. A guard walked over to her as he held a jar, lid open. She deposited the heart within it, like a meal to be saved for later.

The Bleaksword guards undid the binds of the corpse and carried it out, ignoring the sorceress as she licked the blood clean from her fingers. As they carted the body out, another sorceress came in, a younger aelf who ignored the late Marinius.

"You called, mother?" she asked, her arms folded behind her arms.

"Sareesa! Do we have any more?" Morena asked.

"We got a few more cowards yes, as always our allies believe they were slain during the battle." Her daughter helped dress her mother, one article of clothing at a time.

"Excellent..." she paused." I might let this one grow in my belly, we need more half casts."

Her daughter bowed." As you say, mother... oh, Moira has survived the battle as well. Most of her regiment died again as per the usual but it did complete their objective."

Moira was an valuable agent she had planted within the Freeguild. She would be given the best and the worst men the city had to offer to fight her for. The best she got the keep, the worst who'd run or disobey would serve Deatholme in another way, like Marinius did.

"Good, Khaine be praised. Send her an ample award, give it twenty years and she'll join us at the Triumvirate."

Her daughter smiled at that." Deatholme will be ours soon enough, mother. Praise Khaine."

"Praise Khaine."