Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I am glad that you liked the last chapter and I hope you like this one as well, as always I own nothing but what springs from my head.
Karl and the others made it back to camp shortly after the sun went down. They were challenged by the sentries which had been posted on the palisade, but were quickly let in once they guards saw who they were. Karl and Lescheva went in search of their companions. They found Gundolf and Delaune after a short search. The two were sitting by a fire and were passing a flask between. When they saw Karl and Lescheva approaching they rose to greet them.
"Well, I see that you two made it as well." Delaune said with a grin as he handed Lescheva the flask. Lescheva took the flask and grinned in return.
"Of course, I am far too manly to die from little Green Ones and I decided to bring this little Empire man along with me when I left." Here he slapped Karl on the back with enough force to cause Karl to stumble. Lescheva then took a swig from the flask and then immediately spat it out.
"What is this?!" He demanded of Delaune.
"Bretonnian wine," the other man replied; "The finest wine in the world."
"Bah!" Lescheva spat in disgust. "Sour-flavored water! Come to Kislev and have some vodka! That is a real drink!" As the Bretonnian looked on the verge of taking offence, Karl moved to change the subject.
"I see that you two have apparently put your differences behind you."
"Aye,"Gundolf said with a slight smirk; "It seems having half my face cut off has convinced Delaune that I am not such a bad person after all."
"Careful," Delaune warned, though his voice held humor rather than rancor. "Or you may lose all the goodwill that that little cut got you. When you get home you had better have your servants shave you."
"I think I will." Gundolf said with a laugh.
"Well," Karl said as he took a seat; "We all survived and we are all rich."
"Don't count your horses till their born Empire Man." Lescheva warned him. "We escaped the Goblin lair but that does not mean that we are safe. They are vindictive creatures and may very well pursue us as we attempt to return to the lands of men."
"Will they really chase us?" Gundolf asked.
"They may." Said one of the more lightly armored Dwarves, coming up to sit beside them and then began to speak again.
"The Grobi are as spiteful and malicious as they are cowardly. The may not show it but they value strength, or at least ruthlessness. If their leaders appear to let someone invade what they have stolen then those leaders would appear weak they would find themselves challenged. The leaders may have no choice but to pursue us. They care not for gold but they may seek to take it from us if only to spite us and to use of a trophy of their strength."
"So they will follow us?" Karl asked, the Dwarf shrugged.
"They might. If we hurt them enough they may not have the heart to give chase."
"Even if they do, Lescheva interjected; "We shall show them why they should have stayed in their holes." At that the Dwarf snorted again and shook his head.
"Manlings, just like beardlings, always eager to fight. We killed a bunch of those…" Here he slipped into something in his own language. He then caught himself and when he spoke again it was in Reikspiel, the language of the Empire.
"Aye, we killed a lot of them but there are a lot more of them, there are always more of them. If they come after us, trust me you will regret it."
"Do you think that we can move fast enough to get away here before they give chase? Gundolf asked. The Dwarf stroked his chin for a moment before replying.
"I don't think so, especially if they send wolf or spider riders after us. We have the wounded and the wagons slowing us down. Not to mention the gold." Indeed Karl thought. Each man was carrying their own loot with them as none of them seemed to trust anyone else to carry their share. Even Karl found that he kept the bags that held his gold close to him.
Karl and the others were going to go get some sleep when they and everyone else were called up to begin breaking down the camp, it seemed that Freitaler and IronHeart were determined to get the party as far from the reach of the Goblins as possible before the sun set. There was a fair bit of grumbling from the men but the Dwarves seemed to merely take it all in stride. Loaded as they were with the gold and wounded, the column moved much slower than it had before. It was also much reduced, including the wounded between a third and a half of their party were casualties and Karl feared that the Goblins would find them easy prey.
It seemed that Freitaler and IronHeart appeared to share his fears as they drove the column hard and sent out a number of scouts ahead, behind and on the side of their rout of march. Despite the number of injured in the column Freitaler and IronHeart drove them hard all through the day. They made camp just before sunset and even though they were all tired orders were for them to erect the barricade and set a heavy watch. When it was Karl's turn he stared out into the darkness but neither saw or heard anything. The camp was roused before dawn, broke down the camp and set off. They pushed themselves hard all through the day but again there was no sign of any pursuers and men began to talk that the fear of pursuit was unfounded and that they were home free. An hour before sunset; however, the scouts on the right flank reported that they had spotted wolf-riders moving in. Freitaler and IronHeart ordered the column halted and the fortifications set up. They worked at a frantic pace but there was no sign of the Goblins.
"Where are they?" Karl growled at a Dwarf who was working near him.
"Patience Manling." The Dwarf told him. "The Goblins may be cowardly, but they are also cunning. They know that they will have the edge once the sun sets. We shan't see them till after dark." The Dwarf's words proved to be prophetic, it was not till after the sun had set that Karl heard the braying of Goblin horns.
The darkness was creeping in but Karl could easily make out the Goblins in the gloom. He could not count them all but it was clear that there were dozens, possibly hundreds of them. They did not appear to have any order or formation to them, content merely to charge the camp in waves and attempt to overwhelm the defenders through sheer weight of numbers. They rode around the barricade that the defenders had set up, clearly looking for an opening to exploit. Not finding one they fell back a little ways and regrouped. Once this was done they rushed the barricade. As they did so they launched a series of ragged volleys into the defenders, neither Karl nor anyone near him were hit but he heard that cries of those who were. Having learned his lesson from the last time Goblins attacked the camp Karl waited till the creatures were close before firing. While this did not give him enough time to reload it did allow him to take down a Goblin with each shot.
Once he had fired his last shot he dropped his pistol and drew his swords. They had just cleared their sheaths when the first wave hit the barricade, which quickly proved to not be tall enough. The wolves sprang and many were able to latch their front paws on the top and pull themselves over while their riders thrust at the defenders with crude spears and blades in an effort to drive the defenders away. One landed right in front of Karl and started to pull itself up while its rider thrust at Karl with a spear. With his left sword Karl knocked the spear aside while thrusting into the wolf's neck. Its cry of pain ended in a gurgle as blood filled its throat and it fell from the wall.
Another Goblin sprang from its mount and before Karl could react it thrust its spear into Karl. It was too short to reach all the way to Karl's organs and the spearhead entered just above by his belt. As Karl was twisting away when he was struck the blade did not go in deeply so it caused more pain than damage. Cursing in rage Karl kicked the creature and sent it flying into the darkness. Another Goblin tried to take advantage of Karl's distraction by attacking him from behind, but before it could reach him it was impaled by an arrow of metal conjured by the wizard. Unfortunately for the wizard the Goblin's had a wizard as well and it had just topped the wall and it fired a bolt of green fire which struck the wizard before he could react. His robes burst into flame and the man had barely time to scream before he fell to the ground and was still.
The Goblin screamed in triumph but was cut short when Freitaler appeared and fired at pistol at the Goblin. It shrieked in pain and crumpled to the ground. Karl wanted to cheer but more and more of the Goblins were coming over the wall and there was no time. Everywhere Karl looked he say leering Goblins and thrusting weapons and all Karl could do was hack, slash and thrust at any that came too close and all around him others were in the same situation. Gundolf crashed into him, blood seeping from wounds on arms and legs.
"This is getting ridiculous." Gundolf muttered in a moment of calm. "One scar makes you dashing a whole patchwork of them ruins the effect."
"I think your crowd is too picky." Karl said as he stepped to the side in order to simultaneously dodge a Goblin's blade and thrust one of his own into the creature's belly.
"No, you merely lack proper tastes in aesthetics." The man replied with a laugh. His laughter turned to a groan.
"Oh just what we didn't need." Karl looked to see what Gundolf was looking at and he too felt a groan building inside him.
A party of Goblins had just cleared the wall and were advancing into the camp. This group was different from the others, it seemed slightly more organized and wore better armor, which appeared to be a hodgepodge mixture of what appeared to be salvaged Dwarven armor. Leading them was a Goblin which was slightly taller than the others and was clearly in charge, screeching orders in its own foul language. It and its companions moved towards where the Dwarves had set up their own line of defense. This had held despite the Goblins' best efforts to break through it and a pile of green bodies lay before the Dwarves. As another wave of Goblins kept the Dwarves occupied the large chieftain and its companions charged forward. As they neared the struggling mass they sprang over the front ranks of the Goblins and crashed into the Dwarf lines.
At this point Karl was attacked again and his attention was drawn back to his own situation. He received several more wounds and while none of them were fatal in and of themselves, collectively they could have caused Karl to bleed to death eventually if Karl had not had the ability to regenerate. Still, Karl's ability was not shared by those around him and men were falling in increasing numbers. Just then a triumphant cry went up from the Dwarven line and a cry of despair from the Goblins. Finding himself in a moment of calm, Karl looked over to see what had happened.
Ironheart was standing over the bodies of the Goblin leader and it mount, the head of Ironheart's weapon smeared with blood. The sight of their leader's death seemed to take the heart out of the Goblins while simultaneously emboldening the defenders. At a call from Freitaler the defenders pushed forward into the confused Goblin mass. This proved to be too much for the Greenskins, with terrified howls they broke and fled. The wall that they had spent so much time trying to get over now proved to be an impediment to their escape and they started to claw, kick and bite at one another in their efforts to escape. This left their backs exposed and Karl and the others. They defenders turned attackers took full advantage of this and poured into the mass of Goblins, stabbing, hacking and slashing at the creatures. Some turned to fight but in the mass they were not able to do so effectively. Despite the best efforts of the defenders many of the Goblins made their way over the wall and fled into the darkness, the defenders were too few and had too many wounded to give chase. Feeling drained by both the fighting and the effort of regenerating his wounds Karl slumped against the wall and sought to catch his breath. Looking up he saw Gundolf approaching him.
"I see that you still live." Karl said; "And without too many scars I trust?"
"Yes I live, not sure about the scars though. Oh, please do me a favor Karl."
"What is it?" Karl asked.
"If you ever feel the need to complain about the absence of Goblins, please keep it to yourself." The joke may not have been particularly funny but both found themselves laughing uproariously. Though they had won loses were heavy, with well over half the expedition now either dead or wounded. Even Karl's group had not escaped unscathed. In addition to Gundolf's injuries Lescheva had lost an eye. Fortunately he was too relieved to still be alive to be overly upset over it. If the Goblins attacked again Karl was not sure that they would have been able to beat them back again. Their defeat; however, seemed to have taken the fight out of them and the camp saw no more of them and one of the Dwarves scouts assured them that the Goblins were heading back towards their holdings.
"Killing their chieftain took the fight out them." He said confidently; "They fled and they won't be back." Fortunately his words proved to be accurate, they saw no more of the Goblins and before long the mountains gave way to the plains of the Empire. As before they saw signs that they were being shadowed but even in their reduced state they were numerous to be easily tangled with and they received no further trouble.
Karl's heart leaped with joy when they at last saw the spires of Altdorf. They made a far less impressive sight entering than they had leaving but Karl did not care, even though they thought themselves safe from the Goblins the column had still been pushed hard and Karl was as exhausted as everyone else and found the prospect of resting, even at Marx's with the accompanying remarks, was growing more enticing by the moment. As they made their way into the city the wagons bearing the wound made their way towards a nearby temple of Shallya while the rest of the expedition made their way back to the tavern where it all began. Once there Freitaler made a short speech praising their courage and then the loot of those who had died was divided up among the survivors, which added another bag of gold to Karl's share and then the expedition broke up. Karl found himself with Gundolf, Lescheva and Delaune. Though they had not known one another for long they found themselves reluctant to part. After a moment Gundolf spoke.
"Well, this is it I suppose. Best of luck to all of you. If my father sees fit to take me back feel free to visit at any time." Here he looked over at Delaune and smirked. "You may have to use the servants' entrance." Delaune replied with a rude gesture but he had a smirk on his face and then he spoke.
"Perhaps I'll take you up on that offer, if only to embarrass you in front of the rest of the snobby nobles. For now I am off to find myself pretty girl."
"The coin in your purse should make that easier." Lescheva said with a laugh. "For me, I think I shall go home. I have coin enough for my horses and if I push myself I should have time to get the mares set to foal by Spring time."
"Farewell and the blessings of the gods on you all." Karl said, finding his breath catching in his throat. There was nothing more to be said and after an awkward moment they all turned and went their separate ways.
Karl made his way through the streets to Marx's home where the door was opened by Edward, the Halfling servant.
"Is the master at home?" Karl asked.
"The master is attending a party given by the Baron Von Wolfsten but will return later this evening. The master said that if you should come while he was out you are to remain here till he returns." Since Karl had wanted to speak with him anyway he merely nodded.
"Is Wilhelmina here?"
"The Lady Wilhelmina is gone from the city at present." Karl grunted and entered the house.
He first went to the room that he had been staying in and dropped his pack and bundles on the floor and went to the kitchens to find something to eat. As he made his way there he passed the door which led down to the cellars but he had no desire to see the vampire. After he had eaten a simple meal of bread and sausages he returned to his room and was asleep. He was awoken some time later by Edward gently but firmly shaking him.
"Apologies, but the master has returned and wishes to speak with you." Grumbling Karl rose from the bed, splashed some water on his face in an effort to wake himself up fully and then followed Edward to Marx's office. The man was seated behind his desk and clad in the latest fashion. As Karl entered he looked up and placed his folded hands on the desk.
"Back I see." He said simply.
"Yes." Karl replied.
"Successful I trust?" Marx asked. Karl replied with a nod.
"Well, I am sure that you are eager to run around the city spending your gains on all of the pleasures and frivolities that young men are inclined to indulge in. Unfortunately, I have a task for you which cannot wait." At that Karl loosed a slight groan. This caused Marx to raise an eyebrow in an annoyed manner.
"You have only yourself to blame. I did not make you go running off looking for treasure instead of resting. I am already slightly annoyed with you over the amount of time it took you to accomplish the mission which I sent you on last time and I am in no mood for your complaining." Seeing that this was not the time to test the wizard's patience. So instead he decided to move the conversation back to the matter at hand.
"You said that there is a job for me?" To his relief the wizard merely nodded.
"Yes, do you remember the crime lord Pfeiffer, whom I had you aid?" Karl nodded, remembering the man and the battle with his fellow werewolf. Marx continued to speak.
"Well, it seems that Pfeiffer was sufficiently grateful for you actions on his behalf to restart our relationship and he has been providing me with information whenever I ask for it. Recently I have been seeking a book and the man who possessed it."
"What book is that?" Karl asked. Marx looked at him for a moment, as if deciding how much to tell him. After a moment he seemed to make up his mind and began to speak again.
"Do you remember the necromancer that you and Wilhelmina dealt with some time again?" Karl nodded, flinching as he remembered the claws of the ghouls.
"Good, now in addition to dealing with him, his former order and I have both sought to deal with any traces of him that he may have left behind. Recently it has come to my attention that before he was uncovered as a necromancy he had been researching the subject and recording his findings. The book was left by him here in Altdorf in the keeping of an associate. I tracked down this associate and learned that he, once he discovered the fate of the necromancer, panicked and decided to get rid of the book. He sold it to man with a reputation for finding objects which cannot be legally obtained.
"I located the man and sent another of my agents to acquire the book, but when the agent got there the man was dead, his throat cut. I had no further word on the matter for some time till Pfeiffer informed me that the book had been sold to a smuggler from Altdorf who is even as we speak heading towards Averheim. Unfortunately, as you chose to dally getting back from your little trip to the mountains, it is unlikely that you will catch up with the smuggler before he reaches Averheim.
"You are to go there and get the book from him before he sells it. The book is reportedly thick with black leather. I know that you cannot read but you should be able to detect the residue of magic on it. If you fail in that, you are to get the book from whomever he sells it to. As anyone who buys such a book is already up to no good, dispose of whoever has bought the book from him." The last thing Karl wanted to do was engage in another long journey but it was clear that Marx was not going to take no for an answer. Also, if Karl did well on this assignment Marx would hopefully get over how long the last assignment had been and be less likely to ask awkward questions about why it had taken so long.
"The name of the man?" He asked.
"Henil Saltz." Marx replied. "Is in his late thirties of average height and slim of build. His hair is blond and thinning, his eyes are blue and his face is scared by the pox. He is fond of dressing in what appears to be fine clothing but really are cast-offs. Which reminds me," He reached into something on the other side of his desk and drew out a leather glove and threw it at Karl.
"This is one of his, get his scent from it." Karl took the glove and inhaled deeply. He could smell Marx but there was also another scent. It was rather unpleasant, it smelled of unwashed flesh, oil, garlic and cheap wine. Unpleasant but memorable, he would recognize the owner the second he smelled him. Just to be sure he put the glove in his shirt so that he could smell it again later if needed to refresh his memory.
"When am I to leave?"
"First thing in the morning I have a horse in the stable ready for you. Time is of the essences so push it hard. If you need to change horses do so."
"How am I to pay for that?" Karl asked, though he feared that he already knew the answer. The look that Marx gave him answered his question even before the wizard spoke.
"I do believe that you have recently come into a rather large sum of money. Money, I believe, is meant to be spent." With that he turned his attention to some papers on his desk, clearly done with the conversation. Karl was annoyed that he was being made to spend his own money on an assignment but it was clear that arguing would accomplish nothing. He only sighed and turned to go. Just as he reached the doorway Marx spoke again, not bothering to look up from the paper he was writing on.
"One more thing, I believe that there is an individual he goes by the name of Marco who controls a significant amount of the crime in the city. It might be a wise move to seek information on Saltz from him. But do remember to be discreet if you do so."
Karl rose before dawn the next day and headed out to the stables and saddled the horse. He had packed the saddle bags with food and his purse with as much money as it could hold. He mounted the horse and rode out. The gates had just opened and Karl was able to ride out of the city without incident and begin the ride south.
Karl, as ordered, pushed his horse as hard as he could and swapped out as needed. It hurt his purse somewhat, especially because the horse traders could see that he was in a hurry and took advantage of the fact but by selling the horse that he was riding at the time he was able to keep the loses down somewhat. Other than that he met little difficulty on the road, there was an almost unusual lack of bandits on the road. Also he drove himself hard so it made time go by quicker and before he knew it he found himself looking on the city of Averheim. He remembered that the last time he had been there and he hoped that he was as successful as last time and hopefully with less frustration and fewer bodies.
Upon entering the city he decided that the best way thing to do was to seek out Marco, the city was too large for him to spend time searching and this time he did not have any connections with city officials to make use of. All that he needed was a cover story as to why he was looking for Saltz which would not give away anything or arouse Marco's suspicions. Even as he thought that an answer came to him and he smiled. Not knowing where to find Marco he decided to try the direct approach. He entered one of the seedier taverns and strode up to the bar. The barman was fat bald man, whose arms bulged almost as must as his belly. Karl was banking on Marco either owning the bar or at least being known here.
"What can I get you?" The barman asked in a less than friendly manner. Karl looked the man full in the face.
"Marco." Karl said simply. The man started and then glared at him.
"Boy, you don't look like someone Marco would be interested in talking to. And if you're not someone who Marco wants to talk to then you would be wasting his time. Trust me, he does not like it when people who waste his time." This was not going the way Karl wanted it to but he was not prepared to give up so easily.
"I am sure that Marco is a very busy man and the last thing that I would wish to do would be to waste his time. However; the matter is one of some urgency and the matter which I need to speak to him is one which concerns him greatly." The barman gave him a hard look and seemed to be deciding if he believed Karl or not. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision and jerked his head towards a table.
"Sit down, I send a message and see if Marco wants to talk to you. If does you will see him, if not you won't and Sigmar help you if he decides you are wasting his time." Karl did as instructed and sat down at the table. As he did so he saw the barman send a boy running out of door. A few minutes later the barman came over and put a plate of sausage on the table in front of him.
"If Marco doesn't like what you have to say you should have a last meal." Karl did not like the sound of that but he merely ate the offered food as he was not going to turn down free food. He had barely finished eating when the door opened and a man walked in the common room. As soon as the man walked in the room went quiet as those who were clearly regulars gave him wary looks. The man was as tall as Karl, thinner but moved with the grace of a predator. His pale gray eyes were likewise like those of a predator. The man looked to the barman who nodded towards Karl. The man's eyes locked with Karl's and within Karl the wolf howled in challenge. For a moment the two starred at one another for a moment and then the turn and headed towards the door.
"Come with me." He said, in a tone which booked no arguments and it was clear he was used to his orders being obeyed. Karl rose and headed after the man.
In the street outside was a carriage, the man climbed in and gestured for Karl to join him. As soon as Karl closed the door behind him the carriage started to move. He sat down opposite from the man. The man did not speak and neither did Karl but they both subtly moved to positions from which they would be able to strike if the need arose. The carriage drove for some time and came to a halt in what appeared to be a counting house or something of the sort. The man gestured for Karl to exit first and then followed him, ensuring that Karl's back was always to him. Taking directions from the man Karl walked past rows of men of working at desks to a door at the room. The door opened up onto a set of stairs and at a command from the man behind him Karl went up the stairs. At the top of the stairs was another door and when Karl reached it he was told to go in.
Beyond the door was a medium-sized room, whose main feature was a large desk at the back of room. Seated behind the desk was a man of about forty. From the way people had spoken of Marco Karl had been half expecting an ogre but in reality, Marco seemed rather plain. He appeared to be of average height, slightly plum. His features were slightly swarthy, a sign of Tilean blood possibly. His hair was curly, black with flecks of silver here and there. His clothing was not flashy, indeed, if anything his outfit was practically somber, consisting mostly of black with a little gold thread. Then he looked up at Karl and Karl jerk at the sight. The man's eyes were ice blue and held even less warmth than Marx's. The way he looked at Karl made it clear he considered Karl's life to be of no more value than that of an insect and if he had nothing of value for Marco the man would think nothing about ordering Karl's death. They stared at one another for a moment and then Karl lowered his gaze out of respect, then Marco began to speak.
"I have been informed that you have information that could be of interest to me." His voice was low and cultured yet the menace could not be missed.
"That I do sir." Karl replied careful to keep his voice respectful, which wasn't easy as the wolf was longing to attack the man, whom it saw as a threat.
"Then perhaps you would care to elaborate." Marco said, in a tone which suggested that Karl should get to the point as quickly as possible.
"Of course sir." Karl said. "As you no doubt know already a man has recently arrived in Averheim. A man by the name of Henil Saltz. He has come here to conduct the kind of commerce which he would need your approval in order to conduct. I am eager to find him and I would be very grateful for any held that you can give me." Marco arched an eyebrow and his eyes got even harder as his mouth thinned.
"I can see how this helps you, but I fail to see how this helps me."
"Having Saltz in your city is not good for your business. He is dealing in more than stolen goods, he is dealing with something which could draw the attention of…people whose attention you do not want." Here he drew his Simgar hammer medallion from his shirt and held it up for Marco to see.
"Your man followed me the last time that I was here so you know the kind of people that I work with." He could see that Marco was not happy with the way that the conversation was going and Karl could not blame him. No one in their right minds would want the attention of the Temple of Sigmar, which meant witch hunters. Quite apart from any damage that would do to Marco's business there was the very real possibility that Marco could find himself attached to a burning stake. It was time to turn the conversation positive.
"On the other hand, it does not have to be that way. The people I am working with would rather this remain as quiet as possible. All I need is to know where he is and I shall take care of the rest, there is no need for you to concern yourself with the matter or for your name to even be mentioned. It would also profit you in other ways as well." Here he placed a small pouch on the table. Within it he had placed a number of the coins that he had found, they were not Imperial coins but they were gold and Karl was sure that Marco would have very little difficulty in converting them to usable currency. Marco took the bag and examined the contents for a moment and then shrugged.
"Fair enough, not like the man means anything to me. He came here and paid the dues needed for an outsider to do business in my territory." He turned his head to look at the man standing behind Karl.
"Henrik, you know who he dealt with."
"Yes," the man replied in voice which was flat and completely without emotion. "He went to Straffer." Seeing Karl's confusion he elaborated. "Straffer is a dealer in rare objects, a bit unsavory. We stay away from him because he always would likely bring just the kind of attention he seems to have if you are here. He has a house near the cattle market where he does his business."
"Well then," Marco interjected; "I believe that concludes our part of the bargain and I do not expect that our paths will cross again while you are in my city. Henrik, show our guest out." With that he turned back to papers on his desk.
After escorting Karl out of the building Henrik shut the door behind him, leaving Karl to find his own way. Remembering the cattle market from the last time that he was in Averheim he made his way there and began his search for Straffer, with luck Saltz would be there or if not then Straffer would know where Saltz would be. Fortunately, Straffer was known and Karl found the house he was looking for without any great difficulty. Karl cautiously approached and when he heard someone within he banged on the door. From within he heard the sound of someone trying to crawl through a window. Karl dashed around and grabbed a small rat-faced man as he tried to go through a window. Karl picked him up with one hand and slammed him into the wall.
"Going somewhere?" He growled at the man.
"Let me go!" The man yelped, though his voice sounded more like a squeak.
"I might, if I like what you tell me. I am looking for a man by the name of Saltz, I hear that he came to you looking to sell something."
"Not me!" The man protested frantically. "He wanted me to buy the book but it looked too hot for me. I know a man though who might be interested." Karl shook his head in frustration, it seemed that every step forward he took resulted in two steps back.
"WHO?!" He demanded, slamming the man into the wall again.
"Heincle, Fredrick Heincle. He has a warehouse that he does business out of." Karl got directions from him to the warehouse and then released the man and started towards it.
On the way there he passed a tavern and caught a familiar scent. Entering the tavern he was both surprised and pleased to see Saltz himself. The man was in high spirits, drinking though it was clear that he was already clearly drunk. Not wanting to cause a scene Karl went in and stole up to the man and flung an arm around him.
"Saltz!" He cried in a cheery voice for all to hear. "I cannot believe it is you! Sigmar's breath how long has it been? You must come and see Father, he will be delighted to see you again!" With that he hustled the man out. Saltz offered some protests but Karl was far stronger and kept going on about old times so that no one in the tavern heard his protests. Once outside Karl hustled him into an alleyway and became a good deal less friendly.
"Alright Saltz, where is the book?"
"What you talking about?" Saltz demanded, his fear doing marvels to sober him up.
"You don't want to try my patience," Karl growled at him. "I have just come from Straffer and he told me you were planning on selling it to Heincle. Now, did you sell the book to him?" The last was said in a low growl and it made Saltz shudder.
"Yes! Yes I did sell it to him! At his warehouse, not an hour ago!"
"Take me there." Karl demanded.
The warehouse in question was big, a fact made even clearer by the fact that it was empty of both people and wares. It was clear though that there had been people there recently. There were runts from wagons and the smell of people was everywhere. Karl snarled in frustration and turned to Saltz.
"Where are they?!" He snapped at the man.
"Gone!" The man cried most unhelpfully. "He was loading his cargo when I came and left as soon as we finished our business."
"What cargo?" Karl demanded. If he knew what the man was shipping he might be able to track the man if he had already left the city.
"Mostly slaves." Slatz said. Karl froze and turned back to the man.
"Slaves?" He said in a soft voice.
"Slaves," Saltz repeated; "Lots of people buy them. He said merchants who travel the Silver Road often buy them to give to Orcs and Goblins and such to leave them alone when the merchants pass through their territory."
Rage filled Karl. He remembered the hold of the Dark Elf ship, the pain and despair on the faces of those within and the pain that welcomed them. The thought that humans would willingly subject others to such a fate and at the hands of Orcs…With a roar his right arm grew claws and before the Slatz could react Karl tore his throat out. As the body hit the floor Karl dismissed it from his mind and he dropped to the floor to get the smell. He would find the wagons, he would get the book back and he would kill every last on the slavers. The wolf howled in delight.
Author's Notes: Hello everyone, I hope that you liked this chapter. Wrapped up the treasure hunting and now into this, was going to get him a lair but that will have to wait till he gets back to Altdorf, where I also have some other things in the works. Though this story is fiction there is unfortunately a great deal of actual human trafficking in the world, including here in the US. Please pray for them. I also heard today that Father Uzhunnalil, a Christian priest reportedly taken by ISIS, is being tortured by them and will be crucified on Good Friday, please pray for him and all who need it. Thanks and may Jesus bless you.