Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I hope that you liked the last chapter, as always I own nothing. Oh yes, 25,000+ views! Thanks everyone!
Heat on Karl's face brought him back to consciousness. He was still hot and feverish and his whole body ached and wounds sent searing spikes of pain through his body. He tried to rise but his muscles failed him and he fell back down. He was so weak that even that effort left him panting for breath and he doubted he would have the strength to try again in the near future.
That's fine. The thought, finding even concentrating sufficiently to form the thought draining. The ground is nice and soft, really soft.
He lay there for what seemed like forever, just staring up at the sky. As he stared at the sky he watched the clouds cross the sky. As he stared at one it seemed to take the form of Marx's face, as usual he had a look of disapproval on his face.
"Don't give me that look." He croaked out, his sickness and the belief that he might be dying making him more bold than he would usually be. "It was your brilliant idea to bring the bloody vampire in the first place." The wind shifted and the cloud blew away, its form altering as it went. "Don't you turn your back on me!" Karl yelled, or tried to. His throat was so dry and sore that only a slightly louder croaking came out. The wind brought in a new cloud, this one took the form of Helena. He tried to shake his fist at her but was still too weak.
"You, oh you back-stabbing little…" His voice trailed off for several minutes as he regained his strength. "When I find you… you really are going to be sorry when I find you. You'll wish that I had finished you off when we first met. If I am feeling generous I may give Marx enough of you to prove that it is you." That effort drained him and he slid back into the blackness.
He slid in and out of consciousness multiple times, each time he saw something different each time. Sometimes he saw Marx, sometimes it was the vampire, Wilhelmina and others he had met, even his grandfather and others from the village that he had grown up in. He body was wracked with shivers and dry heaves multiple times. Despite the pain any movement caused him he found himself curled into a ball, nearly crying at the misery he was feeling. He thought he heard horses approaching but he dismissed it. He heard someone approaching but he dismissed this as well. Then a shadow fell over him and he looked up into a hooded face.
"Are you Morr?" He croaked out.
"No," a feminine voice replied; "I am, in fact, rather the opposite." Karl could have sworn that he heard humor in the voice, but he wasn't sure and he passed out again before he could decide if he had or not. When he came to again the sun had set. Despite the absence of the sun he felt warmer than he had before.
A fire was burning nearby but that was not why he did not feel cold, his fever had broken. He still felt weak but he felt immeasurably better. Feeling something on his chest and belly he slid his hand down them and found that they were wrapped in linen bandages.
"Ah, you are awake. Good, I was worried." Slowly, painfully, Karl propped himself up on his elbows and looked around.
Off to the right a woman was sitting by a fire. She was slightly stout and appeared to be in her fifties with graying brown hair. She was clad in the robes of a Sister of Shallya. She had his swords on the ground in front of her and she was chanting while holding her hands over them, both her hands and the blades were emitting a slight glow. After a moment she finished and turned to face Karl. Rising, she came over to him and inspected his bandages. Apparently satisfied she fetched a pot from near the fire and began to spoon-feed him broth from it.
"I seem to owe you my life my lady." He croaked out.
"You owe me nothing and I am no lady. I am Bess, Sister of Shallya. I was travelling to Helmsburg when I sensed the presence of the Fly Lord's taint and I came to see if there was anything that I could do to help. I found no one but you. You were wounded, sick and to be honest, near death. I offered prayers and treated your wounds as best I could. I must admit, I find your mere survival, not to mention how fast you seem to be healing, to be nothing short of miraculous." Eager to deflect any suspicions that she might have Karl went for the first thing that came to his mind.
"It would seem that you have the goddess's favor." She snorted good-naturedly.
"Now don't you go flattering me young man. At my age I fancy myself quite immune to such things." Despite her words Karl thought she puffed up, just a little bit. Trying a different tactic he turned his attention to his swords.
"What are you doing to my swords?"
"I recognized that you had been in combat with the servants of the Unclean One and your blades were stained with their blood. That meant that they were in danger of becoming corrupted. So after I saw to your wounds I took them to perform a purifying rite on the weapons to ensure that they were cleansed before you used the again."
"Thank you. I thought those of your order were against violence?"
"We value life and seek to reduce suffering. However; we are not naïve, we know that were it not for weapons and those who employ them the world would know much more suffering." She gave a sad chuckle; "It is one of the greatest ironies of our world and one my Order is far too familiar with." Karl had no reply to that. Sister Bess sighed.
"Enough of this grim talk. Rest, by morning you should hopefully be well enough to travel." They spoke no more and Karl soon drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Karl felt almost fully recovered. The fever was completely gone and the wounds had almost completely regenerated. Though they were now superfluous he left the bandages on, not wanting to arouse Sister Bess's suspicion. The priestess herself was making a simple breakfast of bread and dried fruit. As he got to his feet he saw that the Carnival's cart and all of the bodies were gone. After they had eaten he went back up the hill and retrieved his pistol and returned to her. She was loading her belongings onto her mount, a gray mare, when he reached her.
"I am pleased to see that you are doing so well." She said as he came up to her.
"Thanks to you," he said; "Are you continuing on to Helmsburg? I must confess that I have never heard of the place."
"I am not surprised at that, it is a little place. The convent at which I reside received a letter from our sister there that she was in need of help so I was sent."
"Is it far from here?"
"No, hopefully I shall be there by sunset." Karl thought for a moment and then began spoke.
"In that case I shall accompany you, these woods are dangerous and I would not feel right leaving to travel on alone." From his point of view he owed the priestess and he could not live with himself if he allowed something to happen to her. The Carnival was destroyed, or at least scattered. If he returned to Marx all that would happen would be the man would likely tell him to wait for another assignment or send him after the vampire, which he intended to do anyway. Besides, Marx would likely blame him for letting the vampire get away from him and he was not in the mood for a lecture from the wizard right now.
"That is very kind of you to offer," Sister Bess said; "But I could not ask that of you. Besides, you are still injured and in need of rest. To be honest, I feel a little guilty leaving you but the letter said that the matter is urgent."
"Oh, it is quite alright," he assured her. In truth he was sure he was completely healed, or would be by noon, though he made sure to give the impression that this was not the case. "I have no pressing business and, as I said, I would feel guilty if I were to allow something to happen to you, I owe you that much."
"You owe me nothing, it is the duty of our order to aid all of those in need." She paused for a moment and then spoke again. "But, I will admit that the road can be lonely, I would be grateful for the company." So saying they continued on. She had offered him the use of the horse several times but he refused and she at last gave up the effort. Despite his concerns the day passed quietly and they saw no one, neither did he smell anything. To help pass the time he asked her about how she had become a priestess. He had seen them before of course, but he had never really thought about what drew them to that life, having usually been distracted by other things.
"Oh, it is not a very interesting story," she told him. "I was the third daughter of a minor shopkeeper in the capitol. As such I did not have a large number of prospects, when Mother became ill it was a Sister who nursed her back to health when the doctors would not come unless Father paid them upfront. That's when I decided that I wanted to join the Sisterhood, I think Father was relieved, knowing I had few marriage proposals. "
"Have you been happy?" Karl asked.
"Indeed it has." She replied, her voice taking on a tone of contentment. "It has given my life purpose and meaning. I have never had children myself but, in my own way, I have been a mother to hundreds of children. I have brought health and healing to many, most of whom were overlooked by the great and powerful. I have never been a warrior and I would never have been even if I had not entered the Sisterhood, but I do like to think that I have done my part to hold back the darkness. What of you of you?"
Karl had to think about that. He thought about the sudden and dramatic turns his life had taken. His transformation into a werewolf, the destruction of his village, meeting Marx and being bound to his service, the places he had been, the things that he had endured and the people he had met.
"My life has taken some strange turns. If you had told me what was going to happen to me two years ago I would have told you that you were mad. I wake up some days and I do not know what is going to happen to me that day or even if I am going to be alive by the time the day ends." She gave him a look which was both sad and confused.
"I have never understood why people chose such a life. Why do you do it, why do you inflict such suffering on yourself and others?"
"You might say that the life chose me rather than the other way around." She was silent for a moment and then asked another question.
"Are you happy with what fate has given you?" That gave him pause.
Was he happy, essentially condemned to a life bound to the will of another? Even if he never returned to the wizard that did not mean he was free. If he did not report in he was sure that eventually Marx or another of his people would come looking for him and they had clearly shown an ability to find him in the past. Even if he gave them the slip he would spent the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, jumping at every sound, wondering if they had found him at last. And was something else, a fact which stood above all else. He was still werewolf, a monster in a world which would hate and fear him if the truth was ever to be known. So he would never be entirely free no matter what he did.
But did that mean that he was unhappy? If he had not become a werewolf he would have died when the Orks attacked his village. Since he had become what he had become he had traveled farther than he had once thought possible, he had met interesting people, solved crimes, fought vampires and evil men and other monsters. Like Sister Bess he had helped to hold back the darkness, each in their own way. So, while there were things he most certainly would have changed there were others which he would not. As for not being free, Marx was right, no one was truly free. He looked up at Bess.
"Like you I am content." Nothing more was continued and they went on their way in comfortable silence.
Sister Bess's prediction proved to be accurate and they reached the village shortly before nightfall. As she had said, it was a small place, Karl guessed that it had less than two hundred people in it. It was little more than a collection of small huts clustered around a temple to Sigmar, the only building made of stone, though these were poorly cut and set. Indeed, the only construction which appeared to be sturdily built was the wooden stockade which encircled the town. There road led directly to a gate which, despite the relatively early hour for it, were already closed. As they approached a challenge was cried out.
"Who goes there?!"
"I am Sister Bess of the Sisters of Shallya. I am expected by Sister Margareta."
"Yes," the guard replied; "You are expected. But who is that with you?"
"I came upon this man and he agreed to be my escort. I vouch for him."
"Very well Sister." The man called back. After a moment or two, with a great groaning of hinges, the gates swung open and they entered into the town.
Inside the town seemed a dreary place, the people who watched them from the doorways of their houses had distant hopeless looks in their eyes. Even if he had not been able to smell it Karl could tell that the people of Helmsburg were afraid. Sister Bess seemed to be aware of it as well, though one would have to be blind not to see it. They continued on till they came to a slightly larger log building, a carved dove on the front above the door. They first went to a small stable and unsaddled the horse and then they went into the church.
Inside there was neither a pulpit nor pews. Instead there were two rows of straw pallets, on many of which were people. Even at the door the stench of sickness hit Karl like a mallet. Near the back of the room was another Sister of Shallya, this one was older, she had to be close on seventy if she were a day. She was short and worn but still hardy, as if all of the excess softness had been worn away and only the toughness underneath remained. Her eyes were as gray as her hair and though there was still kindness there, there was also hard-won wisdom and the cynicism which came with it. As she approached them she gave them a tired smile.
"Hello Bess, it has been far too long since we last saw each other." She smiled, looking even more tired than before. "I must confess that I do not think that I could last much longer without your help, though I fear that it may already be too late."
"Whatever do you mean?" Sister Bess asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"As I said in my letter, it all began a month or so ago. Some nearby farmers fell ill with a sickness, the likes of which I have never seen before." She paused and shuddered. "Shallya help us, it was as if their bodies were decaying while they still lived." This last was delivered in a horrified whisper. Sister Bess paled and Karl felt uneasy, this did not sound like any natural sickness and he was all too familiar with unnatural sicknesses and was not eager to experience it again. The sound of Sister Margareta speaking brought his mind back to the present.
"It claimed two whole families and much of a third. Fortunately, I was close enough to the farm of the third, the Schmidt family, and I managed to save their twins, though the rest perished. Then the disappearances began. People have simply been vanishing in the night, first more from around the village which we thought were more victims of the plague but there were no bodies. People began abandoning their farms and fled here, then people began to vanish from within the village. People would go to bed at sundown and then be gone in the morning.
"The people are near out of their minds with fear, we have sent messages for help but no one has come. People fear to leave their homes even though these have proven to offer no protection. Some have suggested abandoning the village but the children, sick and old who may not make it. Not to mention the possibility of being attacked on the way by…whatever has been doing this."
Karl had been listening in silence as Sister Margareta told her tale. He was tired, from the journey, his wounds and from constantly dealing with horror and death, things he had had more than his fill of. But he knew he could not not help. This was the life he had chosen, be it in service to Marx or no, to find the things which threatened humans and dealing with them. So he would seek out what this threat was and deal with it…whatever it was. He cleared his throat to interrupt Sister Margareta.
"Pardon me, but I would like to offer my services in this matter." In answer to their curious looks he replied; "I once was involved with a monk of Verena and I know something of seeking out mysteries and I would like to help if I could." Though Sister Bess tried to talk him out of it he assured her he was fine. Sister Margareta gave him directions to the home of the last people to disappear and he went there to begin his investigation.
It did not appear any different than any of the other houses so the attacks appeared to be random. The villagers had forced the door so Karl had no trouble entering the home. At first he found nothing to be out of the ordinary but that changed when he came to where they had slept. There were clear signs of a struggle, it was clear the family had been asleep but had awoken and put of some sort of struggle. But why had no one heard it? Karl was still pondering this when the smell hit him. He had not smelled it for some time but he would never forget it, the stench of skaven.
Author's Notes: Well, what did you think? I have been told things would be better if the chapters were longer and I am going to give it a try. The next will be longer, I am aiming around 7000 words. Would you all like that even though it will be longer between chapters? Please let me know in the reviews. Till next time please pray that justice be done in the case of Lindsay Sandiford the woman under death sentence in Indonesia, the Nepal victims the Americans held in Iran and all who need prayers, bye and may Jesus bless you.