In Warhammer Fantasy as my ERP Character
Author: Valarion
121
Come on. I can give birth to Dorn easily, I can give birth to a dragon. Though the encouragement fell flat immediately as I felt my own magic and stamina being devoured relentlessly. Even the surrounding magic is flowing towards me to be devoured. I grunt as I lie on the pile of fur. Struggling to push the dragon out. The elven Valariel stays by my side and her much smaller hands hold mine to provide comfort, though it is clear that she is more anxious than me. Not knowing what else to do or what to say. Pretty sure this is her first time witnessing me giving birth.
“Don’t worry. Usually it wasn’t this hard. But this one is a bit special.” I ended up comforting her instead.
I groaned again in pain as I could feel something sharp moving inside me, a horn or a spike or something. Okay, this might be harder than usual. In hindsight, maybe I should have laid an egg instead. With Lak busy preparing the shadow divers to put the explosives, there are only the elven Valariel, Mal, and few other female beastmen to help me give birth. I pushed again and I felt more of the sharp things inside me. That is definitely the horns. This continues for a while, each push sapping my magic and stamina. Until finally I heard multiple sharp cries as I delivered one final push. My body drenched in sweat and my limbs heavy with exhaustion. Alright, should I decide to breed with a dragon again, I will lay an egg next time.
“A dragon!? You lay with a dragon?” Come a question in disbelief from beside me.
“Yes, did I not tell you?” I did tell the other me about this right?
“No.” Came her straight answer.
“Well, now you know.”
Then we heard the pained hiss from Mal. The right head of the three headed golden dragon is already biting her arms. The dragon I give birth to is precisely like I designed. Three heads on their long necks, the middle head already have a bigger branched horn than the other two heads, four limbs, then the pair of wings, and twin tails. I force myself to sit and flick my finger at the biting right head which immediately cries and tries to bite me. Only stopped by the middle head as it pulls the right head’s horn with its mouth.
“Looks like they are feisty already. Bring fresh meat for him and make sure we always have food available for it.” I command Mal who relays this to the other female beastmen. They went out to bring the meat and made sure the beastmen overseeing the herdstone’s food stock knew my command.
I pick the three headed dragon from Mal’s hand. The newborn is already about half the size of an adult man. The middle head has branched horns like a stag, while the right head has two pairs of horns curving backwards and upwards. These must be the painful ones. The left head similarly has two pairs of horns that curved into a spiral with their ends pointing to the front and down. The middle head seems the calmest, patiently inspecting me and keep making eye contact with me. The right head seems the rowdiest, it keeps trying to bite and eat anything. While the left head seems the most inquisitive, it keeps looking everywhere, or it has poor attention span. Though looking at me and the elven Valariel back and forth as if noting our similarities suggest the former.
“What are you going to name them?” Valariel asks.
“I don’t know. I have never named a dragon before and haven’t thought much about it. You want to try naming them?” I offer. The middle head moved his head to look at her as if understanding our words.
“Are you sure?” She hesitantly confirms. “I read that only those with personal bonds can name a dragon.”
“That’s a thing? Like, elves of Caledor do that?” This is new to me.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not anymore. I only read about it.”
“Well, any recommendations then? Else it might take a long time to name each of the heads.”
“If you insist, I think I have one.” Valariel answered, still hesitant.
“Well, what is it then? I can’t know if it will fit or not.” I push her again.
“It's Bel-Ardarion.” She finally answers.
“Ha!” I let out a short laugh as I instantly knew what it meant. The Great Golden Lord. A very pompous elvish name indeed. Then I looked at the middle head, who is now staring at me intensely. Its eyes glowing bright as if begging to be named as such.
“Very well, Bel-Ardraion it is, for you.” I named the middle head who immediately craned his neck above the two others in smug satisfaction.
“As for the other two heads, I will need to think more.” I decided to postpone naming the left and right heads as I didn’t prepare any good elven names for them. Immediately the two other heads throw a tantrum. The right one’s head flails all around in tantrum while the left one just starts crying loudly. The dragon understands our words, there’s no doubt about it now. I made some distance from the tantruming dragon in my hands and the left one started crying even louder.
“Alright, fine. Shut up. I will name the both of you.”
I relent as it is better to resolve this than later. Not to mention it will be troublesome to have two of the three heads unnamed. The middle one doesn’t even try to collar the other two heads. Either he is not yet able to do so or he is allowing the two other heads to throw tantrums to also get their names. Nothing much if it is the former but if it is the latter, then perhaps this dragon will be much more mischievous or shrewder than I anticipated. I thought about the names and the only good elven names that I can think of is from an elven language from another setting. Oh well, so be it. Valariel is already a name that originated from Quenya, why not more.
“Hmmm. If we go by my naming then I will need to give you a name that fits along with the other two.” I address the middle one.
“Your other name will be Malantur. The meaning is still the same.”
“Your name will be Ancalimon. The Brightest. I hope you will be smarter than the other two like your name.” I named the left head.
Then I looked at the right head and thought twice. I want to give him a name about power but the only word I can think of is Melkor and ain’t no way I will name him that. So I will settle for the next best thing I can think of.
“As for you, it will be Turcano. The Powerful Commander.”
As I finished naming the heads, the three heads started looking at each other before some sort of agreement was reached and they calmed down. As one of the female beastmen enters the tent carrying food, the eyes from all three heads immediately open wide and the dragon zooms towards the basket full of meat like a cat hearing the sound of its automatic feeder.
“I am not taking care of that.” Come Mal’s voice from beside me as the three headed dragons devour its meal. The arm where Turcano bites already stops bleeding. But the scales on her arm are clearly ruined.
“Fine.”
“What language is that? It's not elven right?” Came the question from Valariel
“It is, just not from here.”
“What do you mean?”
“It's something I read.” Then an earthquake shook the place.
“I will tell you about it later.” I leave the tent to find Lak.
—
A few moments ago, deep underground.
“Set.” The oldest shadow divers shortly reported with a whisper. The ratmen have dug seven tunnels northward. He and the rest of the shadow divers have set four of the explosive barrels between the seven tunnels, leaving the middle tunnel where the giant rats are still out of control and two other tunnels in between not having any explosives.
“Roll the other two towards the ratmen’s fortification. Then use one of the warpstone to throw a fireball at the barrel when it reaches their fortification.”
Came an instruction from Lak, The Golden Mother’s second oldest child from the artifact in his ear. The oldest one took a deep breath from his spine extensions. Taking in as much air as possible to calm his nerves. Transporting the barrels with the warpstones inside already gives the other shadow divers headaches and vertigo and the spell slot plate in his hand even more so to himself. Something from the warpstone as soon as they carry it through the shadows.
He commands the rest of the shadow divers to resurface now and the other two as soon as they roll the barrels. The extent of the explosion is not yet known and the primary command from the Golden Mother to avoid danger if possible still stands. A cautious decision and also a warning from Lak as she also enchants the warpstones in the barrel with the same fireball spell he is about to cast. Something about trying out what she just learned from the high elven’s book. After waiting for a while. He gave the command to roll the barrel through the artifact. The sound of barrel rolling sounds out of place in the echoing tunnel and the sound of giant ratmen fighting each other. He grips the spell slot plate in his hand, ready to cast fireball as soon as the barrel near the fortification.
His ear flapped as the sound of the rolling barrel from the tunnel to his right was getting nearer. He approaches the opening of his tunnel cautiously. From the corner of his eyes, the barrel appears.
A gunshot rang from the ratmen’s fortification. Then everything turned green in a flash. Hitting the barrel and triggering a massive explosion of green fire. With the barrel exploding just beyond the tunnel entrance, the fire from the explosion reaches back to the end of the tunnel where another barrel rests. Setting off another explosion. The other rolling barrel also explodes as soon as it reaches the opening of the tunnel, setting off another chain of explosions.
The sheer force of the explosion collapses the tunnels. Even demolishing most of the hastily built skaven fortification. With the tunnel collapsing the sickly green warpfire spreads to the only direction available which is towards the ruined fortification. Most of which are made with locally sourced wood for the hasty construction. Spreading the warpfire all over the skaven encampment. Most of the skavens roasted alive from the heat even before the fire reaches them. Then the main tunnel itself, only supported with rudimentary support pillars as it is not the place where the skaven will put their undercity slowly collapsing as the pillars give out one by one. From weathering the force of the explosion then the warpfire burning any support structure underneath it.
The earth shook as the tunnel collapsed. And up above in the surface, just south beside the Great North Road, within Schadensumpf swamp, the ground sinks to the ground. Exposing the skaven’s great underwork in a great roar of shaken earth and green flame.
“Don’t worry. Usually it wasn’t this hard. But this one is a bit special.” I ended up comforting her instead.
I groaned again in pain as I could feel something sharp moving inside me, a horn or a spike or something. Okay, this might be harder than usual. In hindsight, maybe I should have laid an egg instead. With Lak busy preparing the shadow divers to put the explosives, there are only the elven Valariel, Mal, and few other female beastmen to help me give birth. I pushed again and I felt more of the sharp things inside me. That is definitely the horns. This continues for a while, each push sapping my magic and stamina. Until finally I heard multiple sharp cries as I delivered one final push. My body drenched in sweat and my limbs heavy with exhaustion. Alright, should I decide to breed with a dragon again, I will lay an egg next time.
“A dragon!? You lay with a dragon?” Come a question in disbelief from beside me.
“Yes, did I not tell you?” I did tell the other me about this right?
“No.” Came her straight answer.
“Well, now you know.”
Then we heard the pained hiss from Mal. The right head of the three headed golden dragon is already biting her arms. The dragon I give birth to is precisely like I designed. Three heads on their long necks, the middle head already have a bigger branched horn than the other two heads, four limbs, then the pair of wings, and twin tails. I force myself to sit and flick my finger at the biting right head which immediately cries and tries to bite me. Only stopped by the middle head as it pulls the right head’s horn with its mouth.
“Looks like they are feisty already. Bring fresh meat for him and make sure we always have food available for it.” I command Mal who relays this to the other female beastmen. They went out to bring the meat and made sure the beastmen overseeing the herdstone’s food stock knew my command.
I pick the three headed dragon from Mal’s hand. The newborn is already about half the size of an adult man. The middle head has branched horns like a stag, while the right head has two pairs of horns curving backwards and upwards. These must be the painful ones. The left head similarly has two pairs of horns that curved into a spiral with their ends pointing to the front and down. The middle head seems the calmest, patiently inspecting me and keep making eye contact with me. The right head seems the rowdiest, it keeps trying to bite and eat anything. While the left head seems the most inquisitive, it keeps looking everywhere, or it has poor attention span. Though looking at me and the elven Valariel back and forth as if noting our similarities suggest the former.
“What are you going to name them?” Valariel asks.
“I don’t know. I have never named a dragon before and haven’t thought much about it. You want to try naming them?” I offer. The middle head moved his head to look at her as if understanding our words.
“Are you sure?” She hesitantly confirms. “I read that only those with personal bonds can name a dragon.”
“That’s a thing? Like, elves of Caledor do that?” This is new to me.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not anymore. I only read about it.”
“Well, any recommendations then? Else it might take a long time to name each of the heads.”
“If you insist, I think I have one.” Valariel answered, still hesitant.
“Well, what is it then? I can’t know if it will fit or not.” I push her again.
“It's Bel-Ardarion.” She finally answers.
“Ha!” I let out a short laugh as I instantly knew what it meant. The Great Golden Lord. A very pompous elvish name indeed. Then I looked at the middle head, who is now staring at me intensely. Its eyes glowing bright as if begging to be named as such.
“Very well, Bel-Ardraion it is, for you.” I named the middle head who immediately craned his neck above the two others in smug satisfaction.
“As for the other two heads, I will need to think more.” I decided to postpone naming the left and right heads as I didn’t prepare any good elven names for them. Immediately the two other heads throw a tantrum. The right one’s head flails all around in tantrum while the left one just starts crying loudly. The dragon understands our words, there’s no doubt about it now. I made some distance from the tantruming dragon in my hands and the left one started crying even louder.
“Alright, fine. Shut up. I will name the both of you.”
I relent as it is better to resolve this than later. Not to mention it will be troublesome to have two of the three heads unnamed. The middle one doesn’t even try to collar the other two heads. Either he is not yet able to do so or he is allowing the two other heads to throw tantrums to also get their names. Nothing much if it is the former but if it is the latter, then perhaps this dragon will be much more mischievous or shrewder than I anticipated. I thought about the names and the only good elven names that I can think of is from an elven language from another setting. Oh well, so be it. Valariel is already a name that originated from Quenya, why not more.
“Hmmm. If we go by my naming then I will need to give you a name that fits along with the other two.” I address the middle one.
“Your other name will be Malantur. The meaning is still the same.”
“Your name will be Ancalimon. The Brightest. I hope you will be smarter than the other two like your name.” I named the left head.
Then I looked at the right head and thought twice. I want to give him a name about power but the only word I can think of is Melkor and ain’t no way I will name him that. So I will settle for the next best thing I can think of.
“As for you, it will be Turcano. The Powerful Commander.”
As I finished naming the heads, the three heads started looking at each other before some sort of agreement was reached and they calmed down. As one of the female beastmen enters the tent carrying food, the eyes from all three heads immediately open wide and the dragon zooms towards the basket full of meat like a cat hearing the sound of its automatic feeder.
“I am not taking care of that.” Come Mal’s voice from beside me as the three headed dragons devour its meal. The arm where Turcano bites already stops bleeding. But the scales on her arm are clearly ruined.
“Fine.”
“What language is that? It's not elven right?” Came the question from Valariel
“It is, just not from here.”
“What do you mean?”
“It's something I read.” Then an earthquake shook the place.
“I will tell you about it later.” I leave the tent to find Lak.
—
A few moments ago, deep underground.
“Set.” The oldest shadow divers shortly reported with a whisper. The ratmen have dug seven tunnels northward. He and the rest of the shadow divers have set four of the explosive barrels between the seven tunnels, leaving the middle tunnel where the giant rats are still out of control and two other tunnels in between not having any explosives.
“Roll the other two towards the ratmen’s fortification. Then use one of the warpstone to throw a fireball at the barrel when it reaches their fortification.”
Came an instruction from Lak, The Golden Mother’s second oldest child from the artifact in his ear. The oldest one took a deep breath from his spine extensions. Taking in as much air as possible to calm his nerves. Transporting the barrels with the warpstones inside already gives the other shadow divers headaches and vertigo and the spell slot plate in his hand even more so to himself. Something from the warpstone as soon as they carry it through the shadows.
He commands the rest of the shadow divers to resurface now and the other two as soon as they roll the barrels. The extent of the explosion is not yet known and the primary command from the Golden Mother to avoid danger if possible still stands. A cautious decision and also a warning from Lak as she also enchants the warpstones in the barrel with the same fireball spell he is about to cast. Something about trying out what she just learned from the high elven’s book. After waiting for a while. He gave the command to roll the barrel through the artifact. The sound of barrel rolling sounds out of place in the echoing tunnel and the sound of giant ratmen fighting each other. He grips the spell slot plate in his hand, ready to cast fireball as soon as the barrel near the fortification.
His ear flapped as the sound of the rolling barrel from the tunnel to his right was getting nearer. He approaches the opening of his tunnel cautiously. From the corner of his eyes, the barrel appears.
A gunshot rang from the ratmen’s fortification. Then everything turned green in a flash. Hitting the barrel and triggering a massive explosion of green fire. With the barrel exploding just beyond the tunnel entrance, the fire from the explosion reaches back to the end of the tunnel where another barrel rests. Setting off another explosion. The other rolling barrel also explodes as soon as it reaches the opening of the tunnel, setting off another chain of explosions.
The sheer force of the explosion collapses the tunnels. Even demolishing most of the hastily built skaven fortification. With the tunnel collapsing the sickly green warpfire spreads to the only direction available which is towards the ruined fortification. Most of which are made with locally sourced wood for the hasty construction. Spreading the warpfire all over the skaven encampment. Most of the skavens roasted alive from the heat even before the fire reaches them. Then the main tunnel itself, only supported with rudimentary support pillars as it is not the place where the skaven will put their undercity slowly collapsing as the pillars give out one by one. From weathering the force of the explosion then the warpfire burning any support structure underneath it.
The earth shook as the tunnel collapsed. And up above in the surface, just south beside the Great North Road, within Schadensumpf swamp, the ground sinks to the ground. Exposing the skaven’s great underwork in a great roar of shaken earth and green flame.