(Set roughly three months prior to the events of #lorefight 156)

Having been rescued by the noble loremaster Ba’bu’shar, Eltharion the Warden of Yvresse and his saviour mounted his griffon and flew back to the Star Tower on the Volcanic Isles.

Upon landing Eltharion was instantly greeted by his peers from Yvresse, veterans of his conflict with the Greenskins who’d helped him seal the malfunctioning waystone long ago. Upon coming into contact with them Eltharion felt overjoyed, throwing his helm aside and embracing them before heading off to tell them of his adventures around a campfire. He didn’t understand why he felt so happy if truth be told, it’s not as if he hadn’t seem them the last time he left of course, yet nevertheless Eltharion savoured a rare taste of joy in that moment.

As Eltharion headed off to recuperate and share time with his compatriots, Loremaster Ba’bu’shar was thanked by Teclis personally for his initiative before being told that the time for rest would come later. For now, he and the High Loremaster had a mission of their own. Teclis tapped his staff on the floor tiles below thrice and a magical gulf enveloped both of them before the two vanished.

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Once they re-materialised the two loremasters found themselves suddenly halfway up a vast set of ancient stone steps, steps they recognised as being part of a Lizardmen temple city.

Ba’bu’shar drew his blade as scores of temple guards neared and surrounded them while Teclis remained calm, simply uttering “You know who I am. You know of my power. Take us to Mazdamundi.”

The Temple Guards snarled under impatient breath as they lifted their halberds. The loremaster Ba’bu’shar instinctively responded by drawing his own blade. He eyed the closest guard, wondering who would be the first to blink.

However, the stand-off was interrupted by the sight of a skink priest bounding down the steps to communicate with them, using a salamander as its mount to descend the temple walls with haste.

The skink, which could translate between Eltharin and Saurian, introduced itself to the two Loremasters before commanding the temple guards to stand down and inviting the two elves to the upper floors of the pyramid. Once they reached the summit, they were told to wait outside the Slann Lord’s chamber as the Lord of Hexoatl was already engaged in consultation before the elves arrived. The elves waited…and they waited… and they waited.

By the time half an hour had passed, even these elves with all their inner tranquility couldn’t help but grow impatient. Thus, Teclis began banging his staff on the ground below him once more. The Skink Priest saw what he was doing but just as it tried to intervene, Teclis vanished once again.

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When Teclis next opened his eyes he found himself inside the Temple itself. The Archmage stood within a cavernous sanctuary, covered in ancient hieroglyphs and wall-paintings where ever he looked while before him lay a long walkway lit by braziers that culminated in a set of stairs leading to the master of this place. Mazdamundi, Lord of Hexoatl and greatest of the living Slann Mage-Priests, sat ahead surrounded by pillars and archways, deep in contemplation as it communicated with a celestial projection of another of its kind – the Ruler of Xlanhuapec, Lord Huinitenuchli.

The High Loremaster advanced towards the Slann, only to be halted and kept in place after taking only a single step as the great Mazdamundi caught the elf in its sight. Teclis could scarcely move, though he kept trying, but for every step he tried to take to get closer to the Slann, so too did the winds of magic tighten around him, applying pressure on his vulnerable body despite the Slann never even needing to cast a spell to summon them. Teclis continued to struggle and very soon he wondered whether he had made a mistake coming here at all, for not even in his duel with the Witch King on the Finuval Plain had the High Loremaster felt he was in the presence of something that so effortlessly dwarfed his magical talents.

Teclis stood there motionless and exposed, forced to maintain eye contact with the Master of the Slann until the doors to the great chamber swung open behind him. In ran the skink priest from before, followed by Loremaster Ba’Bu’Shar and a handful of Temple Guards. The Skink galavanted right past Teclis, eager to explain the situation to its masters as Ba’Bu’Shar approached the frozen High Loremaster. The winds broke and Teclis fell to his knees, gasping for breath.“I don’t think that was particularly wise, My Lord.” Ba’Bu’Shar noted as Teclis replied that he needed to catch their attention somehow.

“Social interaction will now cease!” the Skink yelped, as it turned back to the elves. “Their excellencies are most displeased that you disrupted their meditation. Nevertheless, the Lords of the Cities of Mist and Sun will now hear what you have to say. Speak quickly and may Uxmac bless your words with gifts of wisdom.” The Skink motioned for the High Loremaster to take to the floor.

Teclis anchored himself on his staff, hoisting himself onto his feet before trudging forward. “Your excellencies. I regret any offense that was incurred by my intrusion, just as I regret any unfair blood that has been shed between our peoples. However, this could not wait. The Vermintide reared its head once more. Already they have taken both an entire battalion on our side as well as a city on yours. It cannot be denied that they are a threat, a threat which I believe we must face together should we stand any chance of survival.”

The Skink interrupted the elf. “With respects my Lord, the Children of the Old Ones have ample experience in combatting the Skaven threat. We will not die. With over 17,000 years of Saurian history resting upon our shoulders and a Great Plan that charts all our destinies, we will not readily let that go to waste. My Masters know well of self-important warmbloods who attempt to claim that they know more than we do. We have our own countermeasures that could be employed, whether it’s an increase in spawnings or the revival of our ancient champions. We could awaken the Prophet of Sotek, whose scourge would unleash 4,000 years of the Old Ones’ justice on the ratmen and drive them into the sea, only to then turn that fury onto you.”

“You could. There is no denying that your warriors are legendary. But why waste your weapons on us when we are the closest aligned to your interests? By now it is known that our conflict began on the basis of a lie. The elf and his human peers who invaded Itza had no ties to my expedition, nor did they bear loyalties to Ulthuan. If I could go back I would seek to prevent the Battle at the Star Tower from ever happening. I took no pleasure from slaying your brother but as a new Everchosen rises in the North and the Vermin ascend from the South, we must choose our allies wisely. Should total war break out, no matter who lights that flame, it seems evident to me that our two civilisations will always be the primary targets of such malice. For what other empire can boast that they exert as much influence on this world as we do? It is an ironic yet poignant fact that as the two strongest powers, we are therefore also the two who face the most risk of devastation, for any damage done to our kind threatens not just our material power, but the influence we can exert. If a god is seen drawing blood, his serfs will stop grovelling at his feet and will reach up to claw out his throat. Because every culture wishes they had attained what we have. All we have built, all our people have worked for could be destroyed by the most unlikely of foes should we weaken our resolve, shatter our ties and turn on each other further. And so, I offer a different bargain. Lay down our weapons, make amends and unite to bolster both our forces against the shadow. We are all Children of the Old Ones, let us respect that common ancestry, mourn for those we have lost and work together to build a more secure future. Thank you for listening.”

Teclis bowed before the two Slann before taking a few steps back, allowing them the space to converse between themselves.

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A few minutes later the Slann called the skink priest and the elves back in to receive their verdict.

“Their excellencies the Lord of the Solar City and the Master of the City of Mists have come to a decision. They will accept your request for a cease to hostilities and a return to cooperation in opposition to the verminous threat but only in return for two concessions of your own; first they demand full burial rites for the Oldblood Kroq Gar and the Slann mage priest Tepec-Inzi.”

“I agree to your terms. What else?” Teclis asked.
“They demand a game of Blood Bowl.”
“Blood Bowl?” Ba’bu’shar inquired.

“His excellency Huinitenuchli, Lord of Xlanhuapec, needs reassurance that your people will not rush to violence once more when the Skaven threat is dealt with. Lasting peace in Lustria requires cooperation and acceptance of each other’s cultures as you claim you are capable of appreciating. To this end, the Lord of Xlanhuapec’s favourite team the Gwaka’moli Crater Gators stand unbeaten in our last season. If one of your Ulthuani teams can play a full game against them without any violence breaking out between the teams’ fans or our soldiers, Huinitenuchli will agree to a ceasefire.”
“And what of the great Lord of the Solar City?” Ba’bu’shar prompted.

“His reverence Mazdamundi, Lord of Hexoatl sees much folly in this arrangement. However, he also respects his brother’s judgement. If this game of Blood Bowl goes ahead and peace is maintained throughout the match, Mazdamundi will agree to peace.”

Ba’bu’shar turned to Teclis. “This is absurd! Since when do we negotiate matters of state over sporting events?”
Teclis raised his hand to his cheek, motioning for his friend to remain still. “If the mighty Rulers of Lustria need sports to assure them of our good will, then we shall oblige. When the sun returns and the sky shines brightest, we will have our game of Blood Bowl.”