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Writer: Tiberius
Date Thu Sep 17 16:35:22 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: Cargo pt. 3
The cart came to a halt after nightfall. The prisoners were given water
and stale flatbread before being chained beneath it for the night, sheltered
more by the wagon bed than from any kindness on the part of their captors.
Once the guards had settled, the older prisoner whispered across the
darkness.
"You keep watching them."
Tiberius opened his eyes. The man lay an arm's length away, facing the
opposite direction. In the darkness, his lips barely moved. Tiber waited
until the nearest guard's breathing settled.
"So do you."
"I stopped looking for a way out six days ago."
"I wasn't looking for one."
The man's head turned slightly. "Then what?"
"Learning."
A pause. "Learning what?"
Tiber glanced toward the sleeping guards. "Everything they'll teach me."
The older man studied him for a moment. "They're slavers."
"I gathered that."
"Then what else matters?"
Tiber answered with a question of his own. "How long have you been here?"
That seemed to catch the man off guard. "Eight days. Maybe nine."
"Same men?"
A hesitation. "No."
"Same cart?"
Another pause. "No."
"How many times?"
The man considered. "...Men? Twice. Cart once."
Tiber nodded faintly.
"Why?"
"Because now I know."
The older prisoner stared at him. "Know what?"
"More than I did a moment ago."
For the first time, the man's expression almost softened. Almost. "What's your name?"
"Tiberius."
A moment passed before the response came. "Corren."
One of the guards shifted nearby. Both men went still. No further words
passed between them that night, and by morning Corren had returned to
staring at the floorboards.
But when another cart met them shortly after midday and two unfamiliar men
approached to speak with the driver, Corren looked first to Tiberius.
Caine was already watching.
Writer: Tiberius
Date Fri Sep 18 20:42:31 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: The Road West pt. 1
The first exchange came the following afternoon.
Another cart appeared ahead, approaching from the west along the same barren
track. It carried no prisoners.
A grey-bearded man rode beside the driver with a leather-bound ledger across
his knees, looking more merchant than slaver. Both wagons slowed as they drew
abreast.
The guards spoke rapidly in Thalosian. Tiberius understood none of it, but
watched the exchange closely. One of his captors climbed down and retrieved a
wrapped bundle from beneath the driver's bench. The grey-bearded man opened
it: Tiberius recognized his waterskin first. His axe lay beneath it.
There were other things as well: purses, rings, a woman's comb, and several
objects he couldn't identify. The grey-bearded man sorted through them one by
one, setting some aside while returning the rest to the cloth. Tiber's
waterskin went back into the bundle. His axe did not.
The merchant folded the bundle closed and passed it to the other cart,
leaving Tiber's axe and several other items with his captors. He counted coins
into the guard's hand, made an entry in his ledger, then looked into the cart:
not at the "prisoners" - at the "cargo."
His gaze passed over Tiber, Corren, the dwarf, and finally the boy. One by
one, the merchant compared them against the entries in his ledger, making
small symbols beside the writing as he went. Whatever the marks signified,
Tiber couldn't tell.
A small coffer changed hands, as did a folded piece of parchment. Both
remained with his captors. Before the other wagon pulled away, Tiber took
stock: his waterskin was bound east. His axe remained with his captors.
No dagger.
By dusk the other wagon was long gone. They stopped beside a dry wash where
the prisoners were given water, another piece of flatbread, and a few minutes
to relieve themselves one at a time under guard. Afterward, they were chained
beneath the cart as they had been the previous night.
Corren waited until darkness settled. "Those were your things."
"Some of them."
"The axe?"
"Mine."
A brief pause. "Something missing?"
Tiber turned his head slightly. "Yes."
"Important?"
His hand settled near the empty place along his sash. "Very..."
Corren asked nothing more.
Writer: Tiberius
Date Fri Sep 18 20:47:45 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: The Road West pt. 2
Corren watched after that. He had spent the better part of their first
days staring at the floorboards. Now, when something changed hands, he
counted. When unfamiliar men approached the cart, he listened.
The next exchange came at a barn standing alone among fields of dry grass.
This time the prisoners remained in the cart while their captors met four
men inside. Tiberius could hear voices beyond the open doors, but little
else.
Corren shifted beside him. "Two in. Three out."
Tiber glanced toward him. Corren kept his eyes forward. Tiber said
nothing, though a trace of approval crossed his features.
Over the following days, the pattern repeated. Carts changed. Guards
changed. Sometimes goods moved with them, sometimes in the opposite
direction. Coins passed between hands, entries were made in ledgers, and
folded parchments appeared and disappeared. The roads remained narrow and
sparsely traveled.
Tiber began recognizing sounds. Not the language - not yet - but words
repeated often enough to acquire meaning from what happened around them.
Numbers came first, then names. A phrase spoken before shackles were
checked. Another before a cart changed hands. Corren learned some of them
as well, and when one man missed something, the other occasionally caught
it.
Neither spoke of escape.
On the fourth day, they reached a holding yard enclosed by a high wooden
fence. For the first time since Tiber had awakened in chains, he saw more
prisoners than guards. Men and women sat beneath crude shelters or stood
shackled along the fence.
Their captors opened the cart. The dwarf was taken first.
He resisted only long enough to earn a blow across the shoulders before
disappearing through a gate at the rear of the yard. The boy followed. At
the sight of the waiting men, he planted his feet.
"No." A guard jerked the chain. "No! Where are you taking me?!"
No one answered.
The boy twisted around, searching the cart until he found Tiberius. For one
terrible moment, expectation appeared on his face. Tiberius didn't move.
There were six armed men in the yard, and more beyond the gate. Tiber's
wrists and ankles were chained, and the boy's leash was already in a guard's
fist. Charging them would accomplish nothing but earning a beating and
giving the guards reason to tighten their hold on everyone else. The boy
was dragged away.
Corren remained quiet until the gate closed behind him. "They didn't mark him."
Tiber turned his head in silent question.
"On the road - the man with the ledger. He marked us - not him."
Tiberius recalled the grey-bearded merchant and his ledger. "You were watching."
Corren's eyes shifted toward him. "This time."
Before Tiber could answer, someone called from the table. A heavyset man
pointed at them.
Tiberius and Corren remained together.
By now, Tiber knew better than to mistake that for chance.
Writer: Tiberius
Date Fri Sep 18 20:53:12 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: The Road West pt. 3
The following morning, Tiberius and Corren left the holding yard in a larger
wagon with four strangers. The dwarf was gone. So was the boy. Among the
newcomers was a half-elf who sat with his back against the boards and offered
neither name nor conversation. Tiber didn't ask.
The country changed as they traveled west. Barren earth gave way to scrub,
then scattered fields and stretches of low grass. Their captors grew more
cautious as the roads became busier. Twice, the wagon left the track entirely
while other travelers passed. Another time, a guard threw a rough canvas over
the prisoners and left them beneath it until the sound of horses had faded.
Tiber remembered each occasion.
By then, familiar sounds had begun to stand out whenever their captors spoke.
Some had acquired meaning through repetition. Others remained guesses. Corren
caught one before Tiber did.
"That one again."
Tiber looked toward him.
"They say it before we move."
"Maybe."
Corren frowned. "You've heard it too."
"I've heard the same sound."
"That's what I said."
"You decided what it means."
Corren gave him a long look, then returned his attention to the guards.
"Fine."
They heard it again before the next departure. Corren glanced sideways. Tiber
waited until the wagon began moving. "Now you can say it."
The faintest satisfaction touched Corren's face. Neither understood much.
Together, they understood more.
Their next stop came at an old mill beside a sluggish stream. Sacks were
unloaded from one wagon and transferred to another while two men argued
beside the wheelhouse. The prisoners remained shackled in the cart.
Corren counted beneath his breath. "Eight."
"Nine."
His brow furrowed. Tiber nodded toward a sack already resting beneath the
driver's bench. Corren found it, then gave him a sour look. "Show-off."
A quiet breath escaped Tiber's nose, nearly a laugh.
That night they were chained beneath yet another wagon. The others settled
around them, exhausted enough that conversation died quickly. Corren waited
until the guards had withdrawn toward their fire.
"You said you weren't looking for a way out."
"I wasn't."
"Still aren't?"
Tiber considered the question. "...Not yet."
Corren turned his head. "Then why All this? The guards, the carts, their words. Who carries what. You watch everything."
Tiber rested his head against the wheel. "I've worn chains before."
Corren was quiet for several seconds. "Where?"
"Tropica."
"You escaped?"
"Eventually."
"How?"
Tiber's eyes remained on the guards beyond the wagon. "Someone else found the opportunity first."
Corren seemed to consider that. "And this time?"
"This time, I'm waiting to learn where they're taking us."
"And then?"
"Then I'll know where they took us."
Corren stared at him through the darkness. "You always answer questions like that?"
Tiber's hand shifted unconsciously toward the empty place along his sash.
"Recently."
Corren didn't understand the answer. That was probably for the best.
The next morning brought cooler air. By afternoon, gulls had replaced the
desert birds, their pale forms riding the coastal drafts far inland.
Tiberius followed one until it disappeared toward the west. When he
looked back, Corren was watching them too.
Writer: Tiberius
Date Sun Sep 20 12:11:05 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: Passage pt. 1
By evening, Tiberius could smell the sea.
Salt carried inland on the wind, mingling with damp earth and the lingering
dust of the road. The gulls had multiplied as the day wore on, and the land
itself had begun to change. Low hills broke the country ahead, their seaward
faces thick with scrub bent beneath years of coastal weather.
Corren noticed him testing the air. "Close?"
"Getting closer."
"You've done this before."
Tiber glanced toward him. "Smelled the sea?"
"You know what I mean."
A faint trace of amusement crossed Tiber's features. "I've sailed."
Corren seemed about to ask more, but the wagon turned sharply and gave him
something else to consider.
The road ahead had widened over the past several miles. Stone walls divided
cultivated fields, carts appeared with greater frequency, and smoke rose
beyond a cluster of distant roofs. For the first time in days, they were
approaching country where travelers might reasonably notice a wagon full of
chained prisoners.
Their captors wanted none of it.
At the next fork they abandoned the road entirely, taking a narrow track
between two low hills. One rider went ahead while another remained behind,
repeatedly checking the way they'd come. Conversation diminished. Even the
driver seemed reluctant to let the wheels make more noise than necessary.
Tiber watched the precautions with growing interest. They weren't merely
avoiding a town - they were avoiding being seen anywhere even near it.
Close to sunset, the wagon stopped beneath a stand of wind-bent trees. The
prisoners were ordered down, given water, then linked together by a longer
chain. Their ankle shackles remained.
After that, they waited. Darkness had fully settled before the guards moved
them again.
The path descended toward the coast on foot. Loose stone shifted beneath
their boots, and the steady break of waves grew louder with every turn.
Tiber could occasionally glimpse moonlight upon the water through gaps in
the hills, but his attention remained on the path ahead and the men leading
them.
When the descent finally opened onto the shore, he understood the secrecy:
There was no harbor.
No lantern-lined quay, customs house, or cluster of warehouses stood along
the water. Instead, a narrow inlet cut between arms of dark rock, sheltered
from the open ocean and largely concealed from the surrounding country.
Several low buildings huddled beneath the cliff beside a rough timber
landing. Hooded lamps provided just enough light for the men waiting there
to work.
A longboat rocked alongside the pilings. Tiberius looked beyond it.
Farther out, a larger vessel rode at anchor. Its hull was difficult to
distinguish against the night, but its masts caught the moonlight as they
rose and fell gently with the swell.
Corren stopped beside him. "That's ours, then."
Tiber studied the men at the landing. One was already checking the longboat
while another spoke with the lead guard.
"Looks that way."
"You sound disappointed."
"I was hoping for a tavern."
Corren stared at him for a moment before something very nearly resembling a
smile appeared.
The chain pulled them onward.
As they descended the last stretch, Tiber counted the men waiting below and
noted where their weapons hung. He studied the longboat next: its size, the
number of oars, how many prisoners could be carried at once. Then his
attention returned to the ship offshore.
Whatever destination awaited them, this wasn't it.
Days of carts, ledgers, exchanges, and hidden roads had only delivered them
to another kind of road.
This one crossed the sea.
Writer: Tiberius
Date Sun Sep 20 12:15:10 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: Passage pt. 2
The prisoners were divided into two groups.
Tiberius and Corren went first, along with the silent half-elf and three
others. At the landing, the longer chain joining them was removed, though
the shackles remained at their wrists and ankles. One by one they were sent
down into the waiting longboat.
Tiber stepped carefully. A chained man could drown just as easily between a
boat and the pilings as he could in open water.
Corren lowered himself beside him. "Anything useful?"
Tiber tested the reach of his shackles. "Plenty. None of it helpful."
"That's becoming a habit."
"So is captivity."
The boatman called from the stern. Oars dipped, and the landing began to
recede.
The ship resolved itself from the darkness as they approached. She was broad
through the hull and sat low enough in the water to be carrying considerable
weight. Her sails had been furled for the night, and the few lanterns burning
above were positioned more for the crew than anyone watching from shore.
No colors flew from the mast.
The longboat came alongside and a rope ladder dropped from above.
Corren stared at it, then at his shackled ankles. "Thoughtful."
A sailor leaning over the rail laughed, though whether he'd understood or
merely appreciated Corren's expression was impossible to tell.
They went up one at a time. Tiber waited for the rise of the swell before
climbing. He had nearly cleared the rail when a hand closed around his
forearm.
It was large enough to nearly encircle it.
The half-ogre attached to it hauled Tiber the remaining distance aboard with
considerably less effort than he would have expected. The ogrekin stood a
head above most of the crew, with enough breadth through his shoulders to
make the difference seem greater. A heavy lash hung coiled from his belt.
"Much obliged."
The half-ogre looked down at him. "Move."
Corren came over the rail next, landing awkwardly enough that one knee struck
the deck. A nearby sailor caught him by the collar and gave him a shove
before he could regain his feet.
The half-ogre's arm intercepted the sailor. "He was already moving."
The sailor muttered something and withdrew his hand. No kindness followed.
The half-ogre caught Corren by the arm, hauled him upright, and directed him
away from the rail with a firm shove.
Someone farther aft called, "Branik!"
The half-ogre turned immediately.
A sailor gestured toward the longboat. "More coming."
Branik looked over the prisoners already aboard, counting them with a
practiced sweep of his eyes. "Get them forward."
Writer: Tiberius
Date Sun Sep 20 12:18:50 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: Passage pt. 3
Tiber and Corren were driven toward the mainmast while the others came aboard
behind them. Tiberius used the movement to study the ship. Humans made up
most of the crew, but not All of it. Their dress varied, as did their weapons.
Lines and tackle had been kept in good order, the deck worn by long use
rather than neglect.
Whatever else this vessel carried, she was no improvised slaver.
Corren settled beside him. "Friendly."
Tiber glanced toward Branik, who had already returned to the rail to receive
the next prisoner.
"Efficient."
"That's what I said."
Before Tiber could answer, something changed among the crew. Voices lowered.
A sailor stepped away from the passage leading beneath the sterncastle, while
another stopped what he was doing and straightened. Branik turned toward the
passage as well.
A dark elf emerged onto the deck.
No announcement accompanied him. None was necessary. Men who had barely
spared the prisoners a glance now watched him without appearing to do so.
Branik made room near the rail, though there was no deference in the gesture
beyond what rank required.
The dark elf surveyed the new arrivals before speaking briefly with one of
the sailors. Tiber couldn't make out the words - he didn't need them to
recognize command when he saw it:
This was the man who owned the deck beneath their feet.
His attention passed over the prisoners without lingering, then he turned
toward the men who had accompanied them from shore.
One carried a wooden case beneath his arm. He set it near the rail, while
another handed the dark elf a folded slip of parchment. A few quiet words
passed between them before the case was opened.
From beside the mainmast, Tiberius studied the contents. Coins, jewelry,
weapons, and other valuables lay within. Among them was something familiar:
his axe.
It had followed him west.
Writer: Tiberius
Date Sun Sep 20 12:29:28 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: Passage pt. 4
The wooden case was carried to a table beneath one of the sterncastle
lanterns. Another man joined the dark elf there with a ledger while the
prisoners were arranged along the mainmast.
Corren noticed where Tiber's attention had gone. "Found it?"
"Found some of it."
The dark elf worked through the contents without hurry. He lifted Tiber's
axe, tested its balance once, then laid it aside. Several smaller objects
followed, some familiar from the exchange on the road and many not.
Then came the dagger.
Only when the dark hilt emerged beneath the lantern did Tiberius realize how
intently he'd been watching for it. His hand shifted against the shackle.
Nothing.
The dark elf examined the weapon without drawing it. His thumb passed across
the fittings before he turned it over and studied the gem inlaid in the
pommel.
Tiber waited. Still nothing.
"That?" Corren murmured.
Tiber kept his focus on the table. "Yes."
"It's a dagger."
"Very observant."
Corren gave him a sideways look. "I'm learning."
That nearly earned a smile.
The dark elf said something to the man beside him. The ledger opened. After
a brief exchange, the other man nodded and returned the remaining possessions
to the case.
The dagger stayed on the table. Tiber's jaw tightened.
A commotion near the rail drew his attention. One of the newly arrived
prisoners had balked at being moved forward. A sailor seized the man's chain
and jerked him hard enough to bring him to his knees.
Branik crossed the deck. The prisoner swung first.
It was a poor decision.
Branik caught the man's wrist, twisted it behind his back, and drove him
facedown against the planks. When the prisoner continued struggling, the
half-ogre drew the lash from his belt. The first stroke silenced the
surrounding captives. The second ended the prisoner's resistance. Branik
raised his arm again.
"Enough."
The command wasn't loud. Branik stopped immediately.
The dark elf hadn't moved from the table. He regarded the prisoner for
another moment before turning to Branik. "Can he walk?"
Branik looked down. "Yes."
"Then I said enough."
The lash returned to Branik's belt. He hauled the prisoner upright and
shoved him toward the others. No apology followed, nor did anyone appear to
expect one.
Writer: Tiberius
Date Sun Sep 20 12:36:23 2026
Subject The Long Road Home: Passage pt. 5
Corren watched the exchange. "Efficient."
Tiber glanced at him. Corren's face remained perfectly serious. A faint huff
of amusement escaped Tiber before his gaze returned to the dark elf.
The man's clothing bore no insignia Tiber recognized, though its cut and
condition retained traces of something more formal. The same was true of the
ship. Orders were answered quickly, lines were kept properly, and men stepped
where they were expected before being told twice.
Whatever trade occupied the vessel now, its captain had learned command
somewhere else.
Corren leaned closer. "Captain?"
"I'd wager on it."
As though summoned by the word, Branik approached the dark elf.
"Captain Sarn."
The name settled another piece into place.
Branik made a quiet report, too low for Tiber to make out. Sarn listened
without interrupting, asked a single question, then nodded. Whatever answer
Branik gave was apparently sufficient. There was an ease to the exchange
that suggested neither man needed to establish his place with the other.
Branik departed to oversee the remaining prisoners while Sarn reached for
the dagger.
This time he drew it. Steel caught the lantern light as he inspected the
blade from hilt to point - nothing in his features betrayed recognition.
After a moment, he sheathed it again.
Instead of returning it to the case, Sarn slipped the dagger beneath his
belt.
Tiberius watched it disappear against Sarn's coat. Corren followed his eyes.
"Problem?"
"...Not yet."
Writer: Justian
Date Sun Sep 20 17:24:32 2026
Subject The Tree Made of Horn: Those Who Would Come
Justian had given the first blood alone. Guiding others to gather what
came next required a measured approach.
Waaaghs declaration carried the authority of a Chaos Lord. Justian could
repeat the command, name a place, and wait for hunters to gather. Such a
call might bring them to the Tree, but it would reveal little about why they
had come.
Chaos had not freed them from the order of the gods merely to place a
different chain around their throats.
Those who joined the hunt should do so knowingly. They did not need to
share Justians understanding of the Tree or speak the Verities as he did.
Malachives favor, Waaaghs command, the promise of violence, or curiosity
about what might awaken could each draw a willing hand. Justian did not
require one reason from them all. He required only that the reason truly
belonged to them.
The blood they gathered would belong to the work.
Justian prepared a message for those within Chaos and the Warp:
Waaagh has called upon us to feed the tree made of horn with blood carrying
potent energies. I have given what was mine to give. Now I intend to seek
more among the creatures dwelling within the wound left by the Red Moon.
Soon, I will travel to the ruins near Fort Ironclad. There we will hunt
what the Moon changed, gather the blood that remains, and carry it back to
the Warp. Come because Waaagh has called. Come for Malachive, for Chaos,
for the Tree, or for reasons you keep as your own. I ask only that you
understand the purpose before taking up the task. The blood is not the End.
It is strength gathered for the road toward it. Those who would come should
make themselves known.
He read the words once more before placing the message where those within
the Warp would find it.
There was no promise of reward within it. No claim that the Tree would
answer. Justian offered no blessing to those who joined and threatened no
judgment against those who did not.
He had refused to call another to bleed before accepting the wound himself.
Now he called.
The choice of who would come belonged to Chaos.
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