Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I hope you liked the last chapter and that you like this one as well. As always I own nothing.
Karl and Wilhelmina moved through the streets of Altdorf, their progress hampered by their captive. The man struggled the whole way and while Karl was more than strong enough to hold the man, Karl was afraid that the man would attract attention from either his companions or the Watch. He had asked Wilhelmina if she had some spell or potion which could make him sleep, she had told him that was not an option as those would make him unable to answer any questions for hours, an unacceptable outcome. At last they found a manhole leading into the sewers and were able to continue with only the risk of being seen by the city's sewer jacks, men who could easily be bribed. Karl was unfamiliar with the part of the sewer that they were in, but Wilhelmina seemed to know where they were and took the lead until they came to an entrance and let themselves up into Marx's basement. They marched their captive to a small room that Karl had not been to before, a small room with only a single chair bolted to the floor.
"Keep him here," Wilhelmina told Karl. "I will go and fetch the master." With that she turned and was gone.
Karl did not have to wait long. Only a few minutes after she had left Wilhelmina returned and with her was Marx. Despite the hour he looked alert and fully awake and completely dressed, Karl was beginning to wonder if the man ever slept. Marx did not acknowledge Karl, instead focusing on the man held in Karl's arms. After a moment he turned his attention back to Karl.
"Secure him to the chair." He said to Karl.
At first Karl did not know what Marx was talking about, but then he got a closer look at the chair. On the legs and arms of the chair were manacles and a collar of iron on the back of the chair. He moved the man to the chair and forced him to sit in it. The man was still struggling but Karl got him onto the chair. Karl first locked the man's neck in the collar, once that was done Karl locked the man's hands and legs to the chair. Once that was done Karl stepped back and Marx approached the prisoner. He stared at him for a moment, his face bearing an expression which made Karl shiver, then he began to speak.
"I am so pleased that you accepted my servants' kind invitation to join us in my humble home. I am hoping that we can have a little chat." The man responded by spitting on Marx's shoe.
"I will tell you now, Chaos-loving spawn! Lord Sigmar is with me and he shall give me the strength to withstand any foul magics you can call from your demon masters?" Marx looked at his foot for a moment and then gave a weary sigh.
"I feared that it would come to this. I could indeed call on all the dread powers you mentioned. However; when one reaches a certain age, one finds such things to be rather a bother. So I think we shall skip to the end." He turned to Karl and snapped a command.
"Dog, fetch the creature from the cellar." Karl did not understand for a moment, but then realization dawn and he hastened to obey.
He went back down to the cellar and moved to where the cage containing the vampire was located. Helena was there and Karl noted that she was alone inside it. She was now clad in a black dress which, given her extremely pale complexion, gave her a rather sickly appearance. She appeared to have retired for the day, Karl supposed that there was really nothing else for it to do when Marx did not have something for it to do. He went up to the bars and slapped his hand against the bars.
"Rise and shine vampire. The master has need of you." Once his hand hit the bars the vampire's eyes flew open. Once they focused on him they narrowed and the vampire drew back with a hiss, fangs bared.
"You." It hissed at him. Karl responded with a grin.
"Me. Up, as I just said, our master has work for you to do." Ignoring its demands to know what was going on Karl grabbed it by the arm and dragged it up the stairs. Once they entered the room Karl saw that Marx and Wilhelmina were still there, as was the man, his shirt torn open to leave his throat bare. The man turned to look at Karl and the vampire his eyes blazing with hate.
"You think I will be cowed by more of your slaves, damned soul!" He roared at Marx, his voice straining with the venom it contained. Marx gave a sigh.
"I think you will find these to be very special, particually the female." He turned to the vampire and barked a command.
"Show him what you are!" The vampire cringed from him and then turned and hissed at the man, showing him her fangs. The man looked shocked for a moment and then gave a derisive laugh.
"So, in addition to worshiping demons, you also are a corpse-fondler!" He continued to laugh till Marx turned to him and smiled at him, a smile which lacked all warmth. After the man went silent Marx began to speak in a falsely cordial manner.
"Some would consider your words to be slightly insulting. But I; however, am a charitable man. In fact," he smiled as if a wonderful idea had just occurred to him; "I think I shall give you a gift, a gift that many men desire. The gift of immortality.
"Yes," he said at the man's horrified expression, his tone losing its false friendliness. "If you do not tell me which I do not wish to know I shall set the creature on you and have her spread her curse to you. You will have powers forever denied to mortals; though I must confess it will likely effect your standing with your precious Sigmar, if you should come to an end I doubt that the conversation with him will prove to be one which you will enjoy." The man's face had gone white with terror.
"You…you would not dare." The false smile and tone were back in an instant.
"My dear fellow, since arriving here you have accused me of being in league with the Dark Powers and consorting with the undead. I should rather think that turning an enemy into a monster is rather within my purview wouldn't you agree?" He turned to the vampire and snapped his fingers. The vampire looked hatefully at him, but nevertheless it advanced on the bound man. He struggled frantically, but was unable to break free of the chair. Just as it was reaching for him he turned to Marx.
"CALL IT OFF!" He shrieked.
"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW! JUST GET IT AWAY FROM ME!" Marx's head snapped to the vampire.
"Back vampire!" The vampire hissed but stopped and backed away. Once he was satisfied that his commands were being obeyed Marx turned back to the man.
"Start talking." The man hesitated for a moment and then began to speak.
"My name is Kurt Holfman. I am an agent of the Order of Seekers of Truth and Justice." The name meant nothing to Karl, but that was clearly not the case with his master and his apprentice. Wilhelmina sucked her breath through her teeth, creating a hissing sound. Marx gave no such outward signs of distress; indeed it seemed that he had anticipated such a reply.
"I suspected as much. Tell me, is your order behind the recent disappearances?" Unlike those which Karl had seen and helped interrogate before, who had all denied any wrongdoing, this man seemed eager, even proud to talk about what he had done.
"Aye, we took the demon-lovers!" This said with a triumphant smile on his face. Wilhelmina look as if she wanted to strike the man, but Marx held up his had to stop her.
"I will need some details, please try to be specific." His tone seemed to irritate the man. Nevertheless, he seemed to be eager to recount his and his associates' activities.
"We targeted the young sorcerer while he was alone in the wilderness. For all your kind's purported powers he put up very little fight."
"What happened to him?" Marx asked, his tone going soft and dangerous. The man either did not notice, or he did not care.
"He was burned, as all who dabble in magic should be."
"Did you have any proof that he was engaged in the practice of prohibited magic?" Marx asked, his tone going even colder.
"Oh, he confessed alright!" The man said with a laugh. "In fact, at the end, he was confessing to crimes we weren't even aware of?"
"He was not the only one was he?"
"Far from it. This city is full of the guilty who are in need of purging. His master came looking for his spawn. As we are engaged in the service of the Lord Sigmar we can only assume that any who object to our activities is opposed to Sigmar's holy work. We tried to take him into custody, but he forced us to kill him.
"This "holy work" of yours, it was not restricted to them was it?" The man laughed derisively.
"No! Our captain, Heinz Gustaf, has had us be very busy in recent times. We also seized a necromancer, proof of how the colleges are irredeemably corrupt. He too confessed after being pressed and was burned most satisfactorily.
"There was also the practitioner of the old religions who was trying to use his unholy powers to corrupt the faithful of Sigmar. When we tried to arrest him he lashed out at us, clear proof of is guilt. We failed to take him into custody as he escaped by his black arts, but he did not escape justice. We learned later that he died of his injuries."
"And the Celestial Wizard and the street performers?" Again the man gave a derisive snort.
"That whore! I swallowed my bile and I wrote those letters. To think that the little slut fell for that! The little fool didn't even realize that I was just repeating words from those heretical plays that people attend.
"One of our people told us about the sorcerer, hiding among the street charlatans. We went for the performer only to find out that he wasn't the one we were looking for."
"Doubtless an embarrassing mistake on your part." Marx said dryly."
"A mistake which was quickly rectified." The man said in an off-handed manner.
"Besides, any who willingly associates with dealings in magic deserve to be slain along with them." Marx looked at the man for a moment, then he began to speak again.
"Very well, where are your prisoners being held?" The man stared at him incredulously.
"What in the name of all the gods would make you think that I would betray my fellows?" He paused, as if he would say more and then stopped himself. Marx just looked at him for a moment then turned back to Helena and motioned to the man.
"Wait!" The man shrieked. "You said you would keep that thing away from me!"
"Dear me. I don't remember saying any such thing and since you said that you are unwilling to tell me where they are being held and I have no reason to disbelieve your sincerity, I fear that you have outlived your usefulness, at least as a human." As the vampire advanced the man struggled against his bonds, but despite his best efforts the bonds held. As the vampire reached him and seized his neck, fangs extended, he cried out again.
"WAIT! I'LL TELL! I'LL TELL!" Marx instantly turned to the vampire.
"Back creature!" For a moment it looked as if the vampire would disobey, but a stern look from Marx cowed it and it fell back while making a sound that was somewhere between a hiss and a whine. Satisfied, Marx turned back to the man.
"Please, do continue." The man paused for a moment and then he began to speak.
"They are in a warehouse in the Old Docks. The order bought a number of buildings so we can move about without attracting attention." Marx just looked at him for a moment and then asked how the warehouse could be identified.
"It's right on the water. There is a strip of faded red paint on both sides of the roof." Marx merely nodded.
"Thank you." He turned back to the others, his eyes focusing on Karl.
"You, take the vampire back to its cage and then return." He then turned his gaze to Wilhelmina.
"Send in Edward and then go call on Pfeiffer. Remind him that he owes me for that little matter I helped him with and that it is time to make that debt good." If Marx said more Karl did not hear it.
He hustled the vampire back down the stairs and shoved it in the cage. It turned to him, a whining expression on his face.
"I'm hungry!" Karl found that he had no sympathy for it.
"If you did not want to be hungry then you should have either not run, or eaten more while you were running." It hissed at him, but he paid it no mind and went back to the study.
When he got there the only ones there were Marx and the prisoner, of Wilhelmina and the Halfling servant there were no sign. Marx was staring at a piece of paper, though glaring might be a better word. He looked up when Karl entered and put down the paper. He gestured to a pile of clothing which lay on the floor. On closer inspection Karl discovered that they were both dirty and on the rank side.
"Put that on." Marx told him.
"Once you do that I want you to make your way to the Old Docks, find the warehouse he told us about and observe, only observe. I want you to see who comes, who goes and get a rough estimate of their numbers." Marx glanced over at a Dwarven-made clock on his desk.
"The sun will be up in an hour or so. Be back here two hours after the noon hour." He turned back to his papers, clearly having dismissed Karl from his mind.
Karl gathered up the items and, not wanting to strip right in front of the two men, left the room. He found a side room and quickly changed clothes. The new outfit consisted of a pair of pants, worn and torn. A shirt in similar condition and a pair of worn shoes, one missing the front so his toes stuck out. The whole thing stank, but he supposed that it would serve to keep him inconspicuous. After all, who looked, really looked at a beggar?
He left the house through the back door, talking with Edward long enough to learn where the Old Docks were and made his way there. Marx's house was not in the most affluent of the city's neighborhood, but it was still affluent enough that Karl was noticeable in his shabby attire and he made haste to be gone before the sun rose and his presence was noted by anyone. Fortunately, he was able to avoid the notice of anyone, including the Watch, and began making his way to the docks, it was some way from Marx's house and the sky was turning dawn pink by the time Karl found his way to docks.
He first found himself in the newer docks. Though the sun was just beginning to rise the area was already a flurry of activity, with men rushing about loading and unloading river craft. While most of them ignored Karl, some gave him suspicious looks. Karl could not understand why, he was not interacting with them. Still, he gave it little thought. He had work to do. He had to find that warehouse and gather the information that Marx required. While he did that he had things to mull over.
He had some feelings of discomfort about what was going on. Yes, in this case, it seemed that they were in the wrong and he himself had had a less than pleasant experience with them, the fact remained that these Seekers were Witch Hunters. He knew little of them, before what had happened to him none had ever come to his village and it was not a topic which the inhabitants talked about. Still, he knew that they were the guardians of the Empire, facing foes that the army could not. He had seen some of those foes and he could see the need for them. Yet here he was, helping wizards, the very people who he had always been told had more in common with the enemies to the north than with the other citizens of the Empire. Was he doing the right thing by helping them? He had seen wizards and other people be corrupted and turn to darkness, was he sure that it had not happened here? Why would they lie and attack the innocent? His thoughts were interrupted by two men coming up behind him.
There were two men, both large and heavily muscled, dressed in clothing that had clearly not been cleaned in some time. Of more interest to Karl were their arms. Both men had large, wicked looking, daggers thrust into their belts and each man had a heavy cudgel in his hand. Their faces and hands had numerous scars and both of their noses appeared to have been in a number of brawls in their lives. The one on the left had a patches of brown hair on an otherwise bald head, it looked as if he shaved his own head and did a poor job of it. The other man had black hair down to his shoulders, even at a distance Karl could smell the grease. He also had a scraggly beard of the same color. The man on the left, whom Karl thought of as Frizzy, came forward a few steps and barked at Karl.
"You, dung heap! What you doing here!" Karl looked about and saw neither other people about, nor any sign that he was on someone's property. Deciding to take the initiative.
"My business is my own." He replied gruffly. His reply clearly was not what the man was either expecting or wanting.
"Listen, horse dung for brains!" The other man, Greasy to Karl, said. "No one begs in this part of the city without the Guild's permission and guess what? You do not have that permission to beg on the docks, so clear off!" Karl was not sure what to do.
He had no money to pay them off, not that he was feeling inclined to do in any event. He could take them easily enough, even without shifting his form, but bodies might attract attention and if he only beat them up then they might come back with more of their confederates. There was only one thing to do, Karl did not want to do it, but he saw no other way to deal with the matter. He turned his back on the men and began to walk away.
"I go where I please." He said over his shoulder. As he knew they would they rushed after him and struck when they got close enough.
Fortunately they did not go for their knives, employing only their clubs. It seemed that, at least for now, they were content to merely give Karl a good beating to frighten him away rather than simply killing him. The blows rained down and Karl let out a genuine cry of pain as he felt one of his ribs crack. It would heal quickly but that did not make it hurt any less. The blows continued and Karl began to wonder if they meant to beat him to death when at last it stopped. He lay there as pain wracked his body, while above him the two may panted from their efforts. At last Frizzy spoke.
"Let this be a lesson to you, you don't come here without the Guild's say so. If we catch you here again we'll gut you and throw your worthless carcass into the river." With that the two men walked away, one of them staying behind just long enough to spit on Karl. Karl lay there for a while, both to let his body regenerate and to ensure that no one who might have witnessed the beating see Karl recover too quickly from it. Once he was satisfied that he had lain there long enough Karl rose and continued on his way.
He kept his eyes out for any more Guild, whatever it was, enforcers, but he did not see them and was able to make his way to the Old Docks without further assaults. It took him some time, there were a number of warehouses in the area, many abandoned and many with peeling paint on their roofs. At last Karl thought that he had found the one that he was looking for. While the warehouse in question looked as dilapidated as any of the ones around it, it had the stripe of paint that Holfman had spoken of and it appeared that the paint had been touched up in places to make it a solid line the whole way around.
Keeping to the shadows of the buildings around the building Karl walked around the warehouse, noting the entrances to the building. There was a pair of tall double doors at both the front and back and these appeared to be the only ways in and out of the warehouse. There also did not appear to be any windows on the sides of the building, which was good as it would allow Karl to observe the warehouse and the coming and going of its occupants without them observing him. He made his way to a nearby building, which appeared to have been abandoned for some time. Making his way to the second story of the building he positioned himself near a window, from which the glass had long since fallen out of and settled himself down to wait.
For an hour or two nothing happened after that; however, people began to come and go. They were all men and they all seemed to share the same general look as Holfman, plainly dressed and with the look of professional bullies about them. Karl counted about dozen or so, they all looked so alike that it was hard to tell if the ones coming and going were the same people. The only exception was near the end of his shift as he was preparing to leave. A carriage pulled up, though it lacked any insignia it was still too fine to be having any business in the Old Docks. It stopped in front of the warehouse and several men got out of it.
Two of the men were similar in appearance to those whom Karl had observed coming and going since his watch had begun, the third man was different. He was tall and had the look of a normally thin man who had begun to grow stout; however, that was not which was the most surprising thing about him. To Karl's surprise the man was dressed in the garb of a priest. This made it appear t that these Seekers had to have the backing of the Church of Sigmar. The sight of the man inflamed Karl's unease. If going against witch hunters seemed wrong, going against a priest seemed sacrilegious. His mood failed to improve on the walk back to Marx's house. When he reached his destination Edward opened the door for him, but when Karl tried to walk past him the Halfling stopped him.
"The master is waiting for you in the dining room with his other guests. If you would be so kind as to follow me."
Other guests? Karl wondered as he followed the Halfling to the dining room. Edward took Karl to a room that he had never been in before. It was an expensively appointed room whose main feature was a long, elaborately carved, table which could seat twenty people, though at present only seven people were seated. One was Marx and another was Wilhelmina. Karl did not recognize any of the others.
The one nearest him was a man so large that at first Karl thought that he was an ogre. He had a mop of unruly red hair and a beard to match. He was clad like a dock worker and had skin browned from working outside his whole life. The most interesting thing about him; however, were his tattoos. On his right forearm there was a tattoo of a fish and on his face, at least the parts that were not covered by the man's beard, were what appeared to be tattoos of fish scales done in green ink.
Seated next to the man was a Dwarf. Like all of his kind he was short, but broad and heavily muscled, a fact which his craftsman's garb failed to disguise, which seemed to clash with the steel helmet on his head. His long hair and beard were black as pitch and his face and hands were covered with scars and his eyes were hard, though not cold. When he moved about to get a drink Karl saw that the Dwarf had a pair of hand axes in loops on his belt. Across the table were three other men.
The man across from the Dwarf was garbed as a priest. Unlike the one Karl had seen earlier that day at the warehouse this one was not wearing elaborate robes. Instead this one was wearing simple red robes under a steel breastplate with the twin tail comet of Sigmar in the center of it. His head was shaved and he wore the traditional band around his head. Like the Dwarf his face and hands were covered with scars. Beside the priest's chair was a two-handed Warhammer, the hallmark weapon of Sigmar's warrior priests.
Next to the priest, on his left-hand side, sat a tall, thin man in the uniform of the Altdorf City Watch. On his belt were the short sword and the wooden club which were the standard weaponry for members of the Watch. He had sandy blond hair and appeared to be attempting to grow a beard, though to Karl it looked more like a mass of stubble than a beard. While he appeared to lack the scars of some of those at the table, his eyes were the eyes of a man who had seen things which many people never saw and which he most likely wished he had never seen.
The last man at the table was, to Karl, the most interesting. He was clearly a foreigner, which dark brown skin and thick black hair. He wore a red vest over a long-sleeved shirt which puffed sleeves and fringed with gold thread. His pants were black velvet and his boots were of good quality leather. In place of a belt a gold sash was wrapped around his waist and from it hung a sword. It was different than the blades Karl bore as it had a curved blade, not unlike some blades that the Greenskins had wielded. As Karl entered the room Marx looked up at him.
"Ah, the final member of tonight's adventure returns. Before we begin, allow me to make introductions." He first indicated the large man with the tattoos.
"This gentleman," there was a slight snort which Marx ignored; "Is named Lars. He has a good deal of knowledge of the area and the groups which operate within it." Marx then indicated the Dwarf.
"This is Master Silir IronHand, formerly of the World's Edge Mountains and current resident of our fair city and instructor at the Imperial College of Engineering." Marx then turned his attention to the men on the other side of the table, focusing first on the priest.
"This is Father Helmut, also stationed here in Altdorf. On his left is Sargent Oskar of the city watch." He then turned to the dark-skinned man on Father Helmut's right-hand side.
"Finally, this is Faaid al-Kaba. A gentleman of fortune from Araby, who has kindly offered his aid in tonight's events.
"Gentlemen, this is Karl. A useful creature in his own way whom I have had watching the target of your efforts. Do be a good boy and tell us what you saw." Karl felt himself bristle at Marx's words, but he forced himself to remain calm and begin to speak.
"The Seekers are there alright. I watched them for as long as you instructed me. It looked as if there is a dozen or so of them, though there could be more. I saw no sign of any of the prisoners, but I did see something else." He then reported the sighting of the priest and his companions. As he spoke Father Helmut, gritted his teeth but said no word. After Karl finished speaking Marx was silent for a moment or two. When he spoke again it was with a slightly unconcerned air, as if Karl had said something that Marx had been expecting to hear.
"It is as I expected and so the plan can proceed." He turned and focused his full attention on Karl.
"You will take these men and Wilhelmina to the warehouse and attack it. You will kill all who resist and rescue any prisoners that you find within." He turned his attention take in all of those seated at the table.
"Father Helmut will be in command if there are no questions that will be all. You will depart at sundown. Till then I invite you all to make use of my home." He turned his gaze back to Karl.
"You have had a long night and day, I suggest that you make use of one of the rooms to get some sleep. I fear that you shall have another long night ahead of you." Now that he heard the idea spoken aloud Karl found that he was indeed tired and found that the idea of taking advantage of the offer was very tempting indeed. Making his way up the stairs to the second story he found a room that did not appear to be in current use and contained a bed. It was as dusty and dingy as everything else in the room, but Karl did not care. Barely pausing long enough to take off his boots, Karl threw himself on the bed and was soon asleep.
He was awoken sometime later by Wilhelmina shaking him. She was clad in boots, trousers and a man's shirt and overcoat. On her face was an amused smile.
"Come," she said in an overly-sweet voice; "It's almost time to go and if puppy wants to eat before going for a walk it needs to get up." Karl growled half-heartedly at her, but never the less he got up and pulled on his boots. Wilhelmina had not waited for him but had headed back down the stairs. After he had his boots back on Karl followed her.
After descending the stairs Karl followed his ears and nose to the kitchen were the others were all gathered. They were seated at a table while a Halfling female that Karl had not seen before labored at the stove. Lars was tearing into a bowl of what appeared to be fish stew, a tankard of ale by his left hand. Near him Father Helmut was eating roast beef, as dignified as if he were dining in the Grand Cathedral. IronHand was industriously working his way through roast as well, though he ate his with far more gusto than the priest. Oskar, who was no longer wearing his uniform, was eating what looked like grilled lamb, as was al-Kaba, though like Father Helmut, he did so in a refined manner. All in all, Karl reflected, it was a very odd assortment to be eating together.
Going up to the stove he saw ham frying in a skillet. Helping himself to a large chunk of it and a hunk of bread he moved back to the table. He felt uncomfortable sitting so near a priest, both because of what he was and because he had always been taught to show deference to members of the clergy. He sat next to IronHand, which put him across from Lars. This was made deliberately, if unthinkingly. While all there were no doubt formidable, Karl doubted that they would be there if they were not, Lars was the only one there who was taller than Karl and far more muscular. The wolf recognized this and saw it as a threat and longed to challenge the tattooed man, to fight to determine which was the stronger. The man seemed to notice this and sent a glare in Karl's direction. Karl quickly turned back to his food, cursing internally. They had work to do and the ability to work together was imperative and he doubted anyone would thank him for letting his other half endanger that unity.
Fortunately Wilhelmina chose that moment to join them. She took little in the way of food, a bit of bread and some fruit, which she ate in a strangely dainty manner. Her presence heralded a change in the mood of the men eating at the table. Her arrival signaled that the time for starting on that night's activity had arrived. Karl sensed the now-familiar feeling of tense excitement that he always felt before a fight, but that was not the only feeling that he was having. The feeling of unease at the prospect of fighting members of Sigmar's church, which had temporarily lapsed as he slept and ate, returned with a vengeance. Not wanting to appear weak in front of the others, Karl kept these feelings to himself and tried to keep his face expressionless. After she finished eating, Wilhelmina, without speaking a word, signaled for the others to rise and head out.
As they filed out of the house, Karl in the lead, William silently joined them and IronHand hoisted a large pack onto his back. Karl led them down the same route that he had taken earlier that day. As they walked down the route Karl found himself wishing that they could meet those two men who had beaten him earlier and that they would be foolish enough to try something again. However; they met no one as they walked down the streets, it seemed that this part of the city became even more barren during the hours of darkness; there were not even any drunks or whores to be seen. They finally reached the warehouse they halted in the shadows of the buildings nearby. Though the windows were shuttered light could be seen under the doors, indicating that there were lights and, presumably, people within. For a moment Wilhelmina did nothing, merely stared at the building that they were going to assault, then she began to speak.
"Right, this is what we are going to do. They do not appear to expect an attack and it does not appear that they have any sentries posted."
"The doors will be locked," Oskar interjected; "It is a simple precaution and will ensure that they are not taken by surprise and give them time to prepare."
"I could pick the lock." Edward stated, but Wilhelmina shook her head.
"No. Those doors are likely bared, not locked, I doubt that your skills would be of any use there. Besides, I have a more direct approach in mind." She turned to look at the Dwarf.
"IronHand, I need you to set charges at both doors." She then turned to look at the other members of the group.
"We will divide into two groups, one will take the front doors and the other will take the back doors." She looked them over, a thoughtful expression on her face, before she began to speak again.
"Father Helmut, would you take the lead at the front door?" The man merely nodded. Satisfied, Wilhelmina turned to look at the others.
"Beast, you, Lars and Oskar will go with Helmut. al-Kaba, you Edward and I, along with IronHand once he sets his charges, will take the back. Once the doors are taken care of go in, you have your instructions as to what to do once we are in. If there are prisoners, free them, otherwise, kill everyone you find." This seemed a little strange to Karl and he felt compelled to voice his concerns.
"Should we not take at least one alive for interrogation?" Wilhelmina shook her head.
"The Master has stated that there is no need for that and he desires that there be no survivors." Not giving Karl time to respond, she turned to IronHand and motioned him forward.
The Dwarf moved from the shadows, being surprisingly stealthy for such a blocky individual. He moved to the front doors and took off his pack. From this pack he withdrew a small barrel and placed it against the doors. Once he placed it there he took a length of cord and stuffed it into one end of the barrel and began running it out. Once he stared doing this Wilhelmina motioned for Edward and al-Kaba to follow her. They began to move towards the back of the warehouse as IronHand made his way back to Karl and the others who remained where they were. Once the cord that he was unwinding ran out he moved back to them. From his pack he withdrew tinder and flint and handed it to Helmut.
"Wait two minutes and then ignite the fuse." With that he moved to join Wilhelmina and the others.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as they all stood in silence as Helmut mentally counted down the time. When he reached the end he struck to produce a spark which ignited the fuse. This burned with startling speed toward the barrel. When it reach it the barrel exploded with a blast that was repeated almost at the same time by a second blast at the back of the warehouse. For all their loud noises, the blasts were not as destructive as Karl had feared that they would be. The front doors were completely destroyed, as were the back doors Karl assumed and small fires burned at the edges of the doors, but the building still stood and it did not appear that the fire had spread to the rest of the warehouse, or any of the other buildings in the area. Karl had no time to think about any of this for as soon as the sound of the blast began to fade Helmut, weapon in hand, rose to his feet.
"Forward!" He yelled. Putting action to his words, Helmut surged forward, the others at his heels, Karl making sure to not put too much power into his movements so as to appear anything other than human. He was not sure how much about him Marx had told the others about him, if he had told them anything at all and now was not the time to bring the subject up, especially with regards to Helmut. Karl very much doubted that the priest would take kindly to what many would see as a mutant or worse.
Weapons drawn, the party surged through the newly created hole. The remains of two men lay on the ground, at least Karl thought that they were two of them, they had clearly been standing near the door when the blast had gone off and the bodies had been reduced to piles of pulped meat. They had not time to consider this. While two had fallen, there were more and there seemed to be closer to twenty than twelve. Fortunately, their foes were divided in their efforts between the two sets of attackers. Despite being taken by surprise and shaken by the blast the Seekers were men clearly used to lifetimes of violence and recovered quickly and moved to face their attackers. However; while they outnumbered their foes, the Seekers were forced to divide their forces to deal with attacks from two sides.
As the two forces closed Karl hung back and drew his pistol, taking aim he fired. In the light cast by the lights from the lamps, which cast numerous shadows, his first shot went wide, as did his second. His third; however, managed to take down one of his opponents. Not having time to reload Karl stuffed the weapon back in his belt. He reached for his swords, but paused. Despite its size the warehouse was still not as open as he would like. Additionally, the two sides were now pressed against each other so tightly that if Karl went with his usual style and used both weapons he would be just as likely to hit his allies as his enemies. So instead he drew only his short sword and moved in to join the fray.
Helmut, bellowing out prayers and insults in equal measure, had become slightly separated from the others and was fighting with three men. While he was clearly a skilled warrior his weapon was ill-suited for the environment in which they were fighting and he was being hard pressed to keep the three men at bay. Karl ran up and thrust his sword into the back of one of them. The man stiffened and slumped to the ground. The man next to him whirled, seeking the source of his companion's death. Just as his eyes locked with Karl's Karl thrust his sword into the man's throat. Without their support the third man fell to Helmut's efforts. The werewolf and the priest exchanged a brief nod and then they rushed to join the others.
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, sorry that it has been so long since I updated. What did you think of Marx's conduct? If Karl's feelings seem odd remember that not too long ago he was a mere peasant and taught to revere the Church and the Witch hunters as the most holy of his god's servants and wizards as traitors waiting to happen. Did I do a good job of portraying that? Till next time please pray for all who need it and I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. May Jesus bless you all.