Chapter Two – Homeward Bound

Strange noises echoed around the hovels and badly damaged buildings that made up much of what once had been the poor quarter as they headed east, deeper into the domain of the Shadowlord – the daemonic entity that claimed Mordheim as its own very own realm.

Small fragments of Wyrdstone embedded were in the earth and broken cobbles, they glistened and tempted, the goal of many who came to the city in search of wealth and power for the stones could provide both. That they could also twist and corrupt both body and soul was for most, more than worth the risk.

Viktor had his blade drawn now, his movements were cautious rather than rapid, and his voice never more than a whisper as they headed towards the tallest building in the city, the still intact Clock Tower. Gizela could still feel the warmth of his blood coursing through her, banishing her wounds and pains as she followed him through the moonlit streets and alleys.

One of the resplendent wonders of the city that was, the Clock Tower could be seen by those approaching from many miles away. At its gilded summit was not only the Great Lady, a vast brass bell created in tribute to the honour of the Countess Steinhardt, but also a telescope where astronomers might gaze up at the heavens. They had seen the comet as it approached but had not understood that it spelled their doom.

The tower complex still stood on solid dwarf crafted foundations but now as it rose towards the moons it was twisted and entwined with great fleshy growths and undulating tendrils that on some nights bloomed with a multitude of vast flowers, drawing in turn swarms of the uncanny insects that now plagued the ruins.

It did however still provide a useful landmark to those who ventured into the city, standing near the south-eastern walls. Occasionally the mighty bell would sound out across the city and beyond, but only the insane could see any pattern or reason to the mournful intonations.

As the two travellers approached they could see that lights burned on various floors of the overgrown building, flickering lamps or fires looking to entice the unwary with promises of warmth. Occasionally grim shadows passed in front of the light, jerky inhuman movements and unnatural protuberances betraying their corrupted nature. As a further warning impaled on posts outside the huge building were skeletons and still decaying corpses - the remnants of previous interlopers.

As the two fugitives paused within a shattered building a heavily built and partially clad figure shambled out of the shadows, dragging a mutilated torso by one already gnawed upon leg and heading for the tower. The creature had a heavy club in in its other massive hand which like its arm and upper body was covered in a mass of barbed thorns.

Then it stopped, its nostrils flared as its malformed head swung round to face where the couple were hiding, snorting loudly. A low rumbling growl issued from its barrel like chest and it dropped the corpse remnant as it raised its club now in both hands.

Viktor did not hesitate or attempt to conceal himself further but rather stepped into full view, his sword to one side in a proscribed ready position. Gizela kept the crumbling wall between her and the monster as she watched her lover square up to it.

"Well my friend, you shouldn't worry, we are not here to steal your meal."

A heavy snort and a pace forwards was all he received in response.

"You can be on your way now." The vampire gestured towards the massive building, although his eyes remained focussed on the creature.

It stared at him for a long moment, assessing the confident stance, the moonlight glittering off the length of his blade and the scent of both of the potential prey. The female stank of blood, sweat and fear but the male, although equally clad in a sanguine odour was evidently without fear and something of the grave clung to his armoured form. It knew that scent and knew that it would be in for a hard fight.

So it retrieved its food and with a final warning snarl it continued on its way.

Viktor smiled and bowed to his companion, "You see…..even monsters can choose wisely it seems."

She nodded but did not return the smile, "…..but maybe we should leave in case he has hungry friends…."

A hearty laugh and he was reaching for her hand – "You do speak wisely my dear, let us depart."

Xx

The door creaked heavily on its worn and rusty hinges as Dieter entered the once proud great hall, the sole guard, in life a fine swordsman, moaned softly as he shuffled to face him, sword in hand, his hollow eye sockets glowing slightly as the walking corpse recognised its master.

"Hello Borys," Dieter patted him on the head as he went past.

Most of the furniture had been long since stolen or burnt as fuel but a battered table had been dragged in, scratching the filthy marble floor rather badly and it now served as a desk for the hunchback who had various unfurled scrolls in front of him, dimly lit by several ill smelling candles. A few worn chairs squatted nearby, their once fine crimson covers torn and stained.

Claudi had looked up from the documents as the gaunt necromancer entered and stalked towards him and now forced a polite smile onto his face.

"Good morning, Dieter."

"Claudi." Barely a nod in recognition. "Where is Viktor?"

"Urghh, you as well."

"Explain?"

"The Baroness Katherina von Dernsbach has only recently left, she was hoping to meet the young master."

He returned his gaze to the fire damaged scroll, squinting in the half-light. "She left disappointed."

"I take it he has not returned since then?"

Claudi paused but did not bother raising his eyes to his visitor as he drawled, "Not that I am aware of, no."

Ignoring the scowl in response, he continued, "So did you obtain what you needed?"

An irritated wave of the hand, "Of course!"

Not receiving any further response, Dieter seated himself with a heavy sigh, placed his staff on the floor and began to clean and trim his nails with a gleaming bone handled pocket knife.

"Do you know what Viktor was actually doing in Black Pit?"

"The young Master does as he pleases, we are not here to question him but rather to facilitate and assist as required."

"I see - were you required to learn that by rote?"

Claudi did not respond.

"Five slavers, about a dozen mercenary scum, three or four others – it was a bloodbath."

"Hmm, indeed – was that so very surprising to you – he is a vampire?"

"Over a Woman!"

"The young Master likes women." A slight smile, "This woman in particular."

"We are not here to indulge him in such matters."

Now the hunchback leaned back in the chair with only a small wince of pain. "Careful Dieter, I have found that our lords are seldom receptive to mere mortals dictating such things."

"I am not talking to Viktor."

"Ah, you believe I will not communicate your words to him, that we are such good friends?" He shook his head, "how curious….."

"My talents are not easily replaced, tell him whatever you wish, I will not be slow in expressing my own concerns to him directly."

"Your funeral…."

"A poor choice of words I think." Dieter rose to his feet and continued as he walked.

"I do not have time for this, I have rituals to complete." He strode from the room.

Xx

Mordheim had stood as the capital of the state of Ostermark and in its vanity competed with Marienburg, Nuln and Middenheim to be the second city of the Empire. The great wealth of the city had drawn avaricious eyes, not only from the rampaging Orcs of the World's Edge Mountains but also the rulers of the other states of the Empire.

Consequently like most cities within the Empire (and indeed the world) Mordheim had been surrounded by tall, hefty walls and was defended further by formidable gate fortresses and defiant turrets dotted along its length. Although many Dwarves found a home in the city away from the wars in their home holds, the wall was almost exclusively the work of human engineers and workers.

When the Hammer of Sigmar struck the city these bastions generally held firm despite some being battered and burned, the curtain wall also remained intact for the most part but small sections collapsed during or shortly after the event. These damaged sections provided yet another way into the ruined city for those who would dare its dangers and they also allowed others to escape its horror's with the treasure they sought.

However some did not themselves venture into the city, instead they preferred to lurk at such egress points ready to relieve the unwary or injured of their good and often their lives.

Xx

Viktor glanced up at the cloud laden sky, conscious that the morning could not be more than a few hours away and they still had far to go before they could rest in safety. Ahead of them was a break in the city wall, the great blocks of masonry tumbled asunder as they had collapsed along with most of a once proud tower.

"There are, I think, four dangerous men lurking in the rubble near the wall – but this is not a threat, but rather an opportunity."

Gizela looked at him askance.

He drew her close, whispering softly, conspiratorially in her ear. "You will need their blood, my dear."

The woman's eyes went wide, then her features were transformed by a feral grin and he knew he had chosen well.

"This is a hunt and I need a lure…" He looked deep into her eyes and saw she understood.

Slowly she stepped back and deliberately, provocatively, ripped her already ragged dress, fully exposing one pert pale breast and met his eyes through a curtain of her hair.

Her voice was soft. "Are you sure I will serve, my lord….?"

Viktor actually growled as his gaze dropped down and then swept back up to lock with her now amused eyes. He suddenly stepped intimately close to her again, his right hand slowly, oh so slowly tracing down her cheek, over her jaw and down her throat, feeling the rapid pulse of her blood.

"We are going to do such wonderful things together." He breathed before pushing her away and slapping her rump lightly with the flat of his blade.

"Off with you now."

She laughed and emerging from the ruined alehouse in which they had sheltered began to pick her way towards the mound of rubble, her movements becoming purposefully less assured as she got closer. Viktor watched her appreciatively then began to move himself, swiftly and almost silently as he gave the breech a wide berth before approaching the still solid walls to its left.

He leapt upwards with a barely suppressed snarl, his blood afire with lust and anticipation of the blood feast to come.

Xx

Following an extensive rummage around his left nostril, Wilhelm had been examining the results with great diligence before he yawned and wiped the digit relatively clean on his trouser leg and returned his gaze back to the gap in the wall.

It remained the same as it had been for the last few hours, empty save for the tumbled stone, scraps of discoloured and faded material and the odd cracked skull or length of well gnawed bone. Still at least they were not stalking through the deadly ruins of the city beyond, there were far too many ways to die in that accursed place.

He glanced over at the other members of the warband, Karl was apparently asleep but given his explosive temper it was unlikely anyone would take him to task any time soon and certainly Wilhelm was not going to exert himself to do so.

Oleg and Hans were engrossed in some quiet debate, seemingly about the relative merits of bow and crossbow from the gesticulations towards the appropriate weapons that each had in their hands. Reluctantly Wilhelm shifted to a slightly more comfortable seating position and lazily refocused on the gap he was supposed to be watching.

Then he saw her and immediately sat up straight, drinking in the vision of dishevelled beauty that was staggering into view, apparently unaware or uncaring about who was nearby. He let out a low whistle to alert his compatriots and stood up.

Quickly he began moving forward towards her, eager to stake his claim.

Xx

Gizela bit her lip as she stubbed her toe again on an unyielding slap of fallen stone, and she sat down on a larger piece of debris and began to massage it when she heard the men moving towards her. She ignored them, she had no wish to see the lust and brutality in their eyes having already experienced similar when she had been dragged off by the slavers men.

Approaching twenty years of age, she had been aware of her beauty for nearly half a decade. She had enjoyed some of the attention, but when her father gleefully proclaimed it like any other good or asset he was trying to sell, she had been less impressed. Especially when she saw the sort of buyer he had in mind for her!

Dragging her away from the city to accompany him on his latest trading expedition to the east had been equally unwelcome, but her mother and her elder sister had both warned her repeatedly about the admittedly unwise affair she had begun with a gallant young cavalry officer.

"Wait until your safely married before you start that sort of thing you little idiot!" had been expressed in a variety of ways. She had been quite shocked at some of the words her mother had used in their last conversation about it.

Distressed but conscious that her quality of life was still dictated by her father, she had acquiesced to his orders and they had travelled to the devastated city. They were not alone, where thousands had perished or fled the aftermath of the comets impact – so now multitudes were equally drawn by the tales of magical rocks that could be found there – wyrdstone – it could turn lead into gold, grant immortality or bring back the dead. Or so the stories went.

Not all who found their way to the city would venture inside to search for the wrydstone themselves, there was need not only for intrepid hunters of the unnatural stones but also those who would provide food, weapons, clothing and even luxuries to those encamped around the outskirts.

Furthermore those who saw the devastation as a direct intervention by their god, Sigmar also made their way in large numbers – eager to experience this manifestation of his power and also to atone themselves by cleansing the ruins of all the unbelievers, heretics and mutants.

Several small settlements quickly arose, dangerous and unstable places without formal rulers or lawgivers except for those with the most power – be they heavily armed mercenaries or fanatical witch hunters and priests of Sigmar. The Empire was still torn between the various contenders for the throne and none of them had the resources or will to police the area, although of course all three sent their own forces to try and claim the wrydstone from themselves.

Protection for providers was limited to their own sword arm or those they could hire and keep. Mercenaries quickly found that robbing unarmed merchants could be just as lucrative as and significantly less dangerous than actually guarding them.

At first distressed by being dragged away from the city (and her lover), Gizela's mood was not improved by the increasing danger, the squalor of the encampment and the prospect that at some point her father would marry her off to one of the most disgusting of his clients…..

…and it was then that Viktor had strode into her life.

Xx

Below him the four men were advancing on Gizela. They swaggering towards her, weapons mostly sheathed or held loosely. At the front was a thin dishevelled swordsman, his relatively handsome face transformed by an anticipatory leer, followed by a pair of slightly overweight men who obviously considered themselves marksmen from their chosen weapons.

The Vampires eyes narrowed as he assessed the man bringing up the rear, apparently unconcerned but his own eyes were sweeping the terrain and his grip on his gleaming axe was firm but not tense. On his left arm he had hefted a large shield – again well maintained. He at least was anticipating trouble.

In truth, Viktor had no actual need for her to act as bait, but it did give him another opportunity to impress.

xx

"Hello darling, you looking for us?" Wilhelm drawled, provoking harsh laughter from two of his companions as the girl looked up at the men.

She slowly got to her feet and backed away a little as she stammered out an enquiry.

"What do you want?"

The inevitable reply was forestalled as a heavy form landed behind him and the screaming began.

Xx

Viktor rammed his sword through the throat of one man, simply in order to get the blood flowing, withdrawing and pivoting smoothly to flick the resultant ichor on his blade into the eyes of the turning swordsman, whose own hand was only just reaching for the hilt of his sword.

He turned again and stepped forward and with a precise strike took both hands off the crossbowman, enjoying the hot blood fountaining across his face and armour, the screaming that erupted as quickly as the blood from the mortal wounds.

The bowman dropped to his knees trying to stem the flow of his lifeblood from his throat, eyes bulging out as he failed and suddenly there was only a single man that stood ready to fight. He roared with anger and came in swinging high, his shield held firmly before him.

Impulsively the vampire laughed and caught the axe hand on the down swing and began to squeeze. Still bellowing Karl rammed his shield into his armoured opponent who barely staggered under the impact and merely increased the pressure on the wrist until the bone cracked, blood and flesh beginning to seep out of the wound. With disdain and unnatural strength Karl was then flung aside landing hard face first onto a large pile of debris, the stone lacerating his face, shattering teeth and crushing his nose as he impacted.

He groaned and tried to rise again but a heavy foot slammed him down again hard, knocking the wind from him. Before he could react, he was lifted up by the scruff of the neck and his head yanked backwards, exposing his neck.

The last thing he felt was sharp teeth at his throat as his strength drained away with his lifeblood.

xx

Wilhelm was still wiping the blood from his eyes when he felt hands spin him round and sharp nails raked across his face as a screaming banshee began to assault him with slaps, kicks and vicious slashes with her nails.

Disorientated he flailed back at her, trying to push her away long enough to clear his vision and get his sword out. She was cursing and swearing at him, something about her father, he was not sure, at this point he really did not care. As he stepped backwards and raised his fist to strike her something hard and metal clad slammed into his leg and he was falling, still suffering under the onslaught of the madwoman.

Xx

Gizela had never felt anything like it, she let lose all her anger, her disappointments, her recent loss and terror in wave of fury. She screamed foul words at the man, words that she had learned recently from her captors and old curses she and her friends had whispered and giggled about in the darkness.

The man fell back and she did not hesitate, following him down and punching, tearing, slapping at him until she began to feel exhaustion overtake her. Panting, his face coated with his own and his friend's blood he managed to throw her off him, only to find a blood slick sword blade at his throat.

Viktor glanced down at the battered man at his feet and leaned a little closer, his crimson eyes boring into him.

"Be still, be silent and you will live a little longer."