Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I am glad that you liked the last chapter and I hope you like this one, I own nothing. WARNING: scenes of torture.
Karl quickly found himself hard pressed by his opponents. He had expected his superior strength to allow him to simply overwhelm his opponents, but he soon found that was not the case. He could not use his full strength without giving himself away and he was using his short sword as his primary weapon, rather than as the secondary weapon which he usually did. Additionally, the men he fought were far different than many of his previous opponents. Most human opponents which he had fought in the past had been brutes who relied more on their muscle than anything else, an arena in which Karl could easily outclass them. These men were a different matter altogether, they were clearly skilled in the use of swords and clearly had more experience in fighting in close quarters. Furthermore, they were clearly trained to work together, something which could not be said for Karl and those with whom he was fighting.
Karl and the priest soon found themselves facing against four opponents. They quickly took advantage of their superior numbers to surround them and attack from multiple angles. When Karl blocked the thrust of one man one of the others thrust in and nicked Karl's leg, it would have been far worse if Karl had not moved just before the blow would have done serious damage. As it was he was still temporarily hobbled as his wound regenerated. This caused Karl to stumble as he swung at the retreating attacker. The man easily evaded the strike and launch an attack of his own that pierced Karl's shoulder. Cursing from the pain, Karl turned to the priest to see if he could be of any assistance. A quick glance showed this was a forlorn hope.
Helmut appeared to be in even worse shape than Karl was. While his armor provide good protection against his attackers' weapons, his two-handed hammer was an even worse weapon for close-quarter combat than Karl's longsword. However; he was clearly a veteran of many a battle and was used to being in such situations and had developed techniques of overcoming said limitations. Techniques that he was at that time putting to good use.
Instead of attempting a wide swing he thrust forward and rammed the head of his weapon into the stomach of one of his attackers. The man grunted and doubled over. Using his weapon as a quarterstaff Helmut brought the haft of his hammer up and cracked it into the man's face. The man fell to the ground and did not get up again. The other man aimed a thrust at Helmut, but the priest twisted to the side and dropped down, which caused the man's blade to slide harmlessly off the priest's pauldron. Karl did not have the opportunity to see how the fight ended, as he was too busy dealing with his own opponents.
The men facing Karl employed the tag-team approach, when one attacked the other would fall back, circling around and when Karl gave chase to whichever one he would open himself up an attack from the other man. Seeing that he was getting nowhere, Karl decided that he would have to try something desperate. He could only hope that what he was about to do would go unnoticed by the others, it would hurt, but it was the only thing he could think of at the moment.
The next time one of his attackers lunged at him Karl lunged forward and thrust his left hand, palm up, towards the man's blade. He cried out in pain as it pierced his hand and came out the other side. The pain was intense, but Karl had become somewhat used to pain and fortunately the blade was steel, not silver. Forcing his hand forward, thereby driving the blade farther through his hand and moved towards the wielder. By driving the blade through his hand it both allowed Karl to simultaneously get closer to his attacker while also trapping the man's weapon. At least he trapped it until the man let go of the blade and drew a long-bladed knife. Karl, now finding his blade, more hindrance than help, instinctively tried to shake the blade loose, an act which caused him more pain and left the blade firmly in place. It was also enough to throw his balance off slightly and enabled the man to get a cut in with his knife.
The man's partner was quick to take advantage of the situation to lose an attack of his own and Karl was only able to counter by wildly flailing his blade about in clumsy arcs. While this move blocked the attack, the blade stuck in his hand somehow got between his legs, causing him to trip and fall down. The only good thing that came of it was that he was able to take out one of his attackers. The man had been caught off guard by Karl's fall and was unable to get out of the way in time. The two crashed onto the ground, with Karl on top of the man.
The man let go of his sword and tried to pull his knife, but Karl was trapping it between their bodies and the man could not reach it. The man's companion rushed forward to aid his companion while Karl kicked frantically at him in an effort to keep him away. Seeing that the situation could not go on forever, Karl quickly came up with a course of action. The blade in his hand left it all but useless in the struggle, so he used his body to keep the man pinned. This freed up his right hand, which he used to grab the man's head by his hair, lift it up and bring it slamming down on the ground. The man grunted in pain, but continued to struggle. Karl barely managed to fend off the other attacker again and brought the man's head up and down again. This time the desired effect was had, the man's eyes rolled up in his head and he lay still, dead or unconscious Karl was not sure and it did not matter. He was out of the fight for the moment and that was good enough for Karl.
He began to get up when he saw a small, elaborately embossed, pistol thrust into the man's belt and reached for it. Distracted, he did not see his other attacker closing in. The man took advantage of this to rush forward, knife in hand. Karl had just pulled the pistol free and was turning to face the man when the man struck. The blade of the knife sliced through the skin of Karl's shoulder all the way to the bone and dragged across it. Karl howled in pain and fired the pistol. The bullet took the man in the throat and he fell to the ground, gasping and gurgling. Finally free to do so Karl took the sword and pulled it from his hand. It was agonizingly slow, accompanied by a wet, sucking sound. Karl was whimpering by the end, but at last it came free and he through it aside. He cradled his hand for a moment until the regeneration began and then he rose to take in the rest of the battle.
The others appeared to have been having a better time of it than he was. Father Helmut had dealt his two opponents and though he was bleeding he was far less injured than Karl was. Oskar had dealt with his opponent as well. Most impressive was Lars, who had dispatched three men with a long knife and what appeared to be large hook. Further back it seemed that the other half of their group were doing equally well.
IronHand, an axe in both of his hands, was battling two men while a third lay dead on the ground. Edward, displaying an agility which Karl had never thought possible, was dancing about with two men furiously thrusting down at him. Just as one man pulled his sword back Edward produced a knife and sent it flying into the throat of the man. Then Karl saw al-Kaba. The man was simply a master with a blade, his sword seemed to dance in his hand. By comparison the three men seemed slow and clumsy. With seemingly nothing but a flick of his wrist he opened one man's throat and then thrust it into the chest of another of the men. Karl Lars, Oskar and Helmut rushed to aid the others. With their help the remaining foes were swiftly cut down. As they all caught their breath Wilhelmina came up to them. She looked slightly abashed and Karl saw that her lip was bleeding.
"Search the place." She ordered. "If any of those we seek are here find them." All of them, save for Father Helmut, spread out and began to search. It did not take long, though the warehouse was large it was open and had little in the way of places to conceal things. Karl did not smell anyone besides themselves, though he did not say so to any of the others. Edward and IronHand went over the floor intently and determined there were no trapdoors hidden in the floor. At last they all came together to report their failure to discover anything.
"Not even any papers." Oskar said.
"Nor any trace of their prisoners." Lars said. Wilhelmina sighed.
"It would appear that this was nothing but a staging area for their operations." She said in a weary tone of voice. Father Helmut made a disgusted sound in his throat.
"So, we just revealed that they have someone who is aware of their operations and is moving against them and we have nothing significant to show for it! Wonderful!"
"It gets worse." IronHand said as he stomped up.
"How?" Karl asked, though in truth he did not really want to know.
"I think one of the men got away." He turned to look at Wilhelmina.
"He got past you, nocked you aside and bolted into the street before I could get him." Wilhelmina did not deny it, in fact, she seemed rather pleased with the fact.
"Yes, I rather think that I did."
"What in the name of all the gods did you do that for?!" Oskar demanded. Helmut looked displeased at his remark, but the man gave no notice.
"Because that is Marx wanted." She took in all of the confused faces and seemed pleased to know something that eluded everyone else.
"He suspected that this place was only a staging area that they had no prisoners here, or any one of importance to their own organization for that matter. No, he instructed us to attack this place in order to accomplish exactly what we achieved."
"And what was that exactly?" Helmut asked.
"Several things actually. First, it weakened them by killing a number of their people and more importantly we now can now learn where they are." At their confused looks she gave an exasperated sigh.
"The one I let escape is terrified." She turned to look at Karl.
"Where does an animal to when it is frightened? It runs back to its den. Marx is following him now, which is why I was ordered to ensure that one of them escaped. However; it could not look staged or the survivor might have become suspicious so it was necessary for you all to be truly trying to kill everyone we found." Some looked upset at being used, but Karl had worked with Marx and Wilhelmina long enough to be used to being used and manipulated by them, so instead he focused on the future.
"So what do we do now he asked?"
"We wait. Marx should have the information soon and he will send for us." With nothing else to say they settled in to wait.
While none of them seemed bothered by the presence of dead bodies, what did bother them was the fact that there did not appear to be anything to eat or drink. It appeared that the previous inhabitants had used the warehouse merely as a staging area for their operations and had not stocked the place with any supplies. Nor was there any food or drink to be found on the bodies. This last discovery prompted a remark from al-Kaba.
"By Ormazd, why do all you religious northerners seem to think that deny yourselves any source of comfort or pleasure somehow makes you more virtuous? Wasn't your god a mortal once? From what I know of your people back then I find it highly unlikely he lived a particularly saintly life." Karl was shocked. While he had become used to things he could never have imagined in his life before, he was still stunned that anyone would speak of the god Sigmar in anything but a respectful manner. Before he could say anything Father Helmut did.
"Beware al-Kaba. Your sword-arm is valued, but I shall not tolerate your mockery of our lord Sigmar." As he spoke Helmut tightened his grip on his hammer. For a moment Karl feared that there could be violence between the two men, but then al-Kaba laughed.
"Very well, good priest, stay your wrath, I promise to more respectful. After all, there should be no fighting during this night of battle." That earned a snort from several of those present. Not finding anything to eat or drink, they instead settled in to rest and soon IronHand, Oskar and Lars were soon asleep.
Karl sat down and leaned against one of the support beam, closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He did this both to rest and to attempt to banish uneasy thoughts which threatened to surface now that the fighting had ended. Earlier he had been troubled by the prospect of taking up arms against men who represented Sigmar's holy church. Yet, when the battle had begun, he had killed them and felt no different from fighting any other foe and he found that that troubled him more than if he had felt guilt or hesitated while the fighting had been going on.
He remembered the stories which Brome used to tell in the tavern back home about fighting the enemies of the Empire. The ones which had made Karl uneasy had been the ones about fighting the enemy from the North. It was not their size or strength which unnerved Karl, because he was sure that those had to be exaggerations by Brome to make the stories more exciting. Rather it had been the other part, the part about the traitors who marched alongside the northern invaders. Karl had always assumed that they were evil men who had simply been born that way and that was why they would betray their fellow men, but now he was not so sure.
Perhaps they had started off as normal men and had, through a series of wrong decisions, become corrupted. If that were the case, could it not be said that he was on that path? Though not of his choosing he had become a monster and had even grown to like it. He was bound to a wizard, and many people said that wizards were secretly servants of the darkness. He had allied with a vampire and other undead instead of destroying them, as all servants of Sigmar were required to do. He had lain with a woman from the North, a self-professed enemy of his people and a follower of the dark gods. He tried to tell himself that he had not betrayed either the Empire or the gods, that all he had done he had done for the good of the Empire and the destruction of its enemies. Yet even in his own mind it sounded hollow.
Though the village had been too poor to have a priest, there had been times when a traveling priest or monk would visit and when they did they would preach. They warned that to use the methods of the enemy, even if it was to defeat them, was to invite damnation and was what was happening now not proof of that? Had he not helped kill witch hunters, the most blessed and pious of Sigmar's servants? And was he not planning to kill more in order to rescue magic-users? Would not many people say that those were all signs of corruption by Chaos? Worse, there was no one he could talk to about the issue. Olga accepted him for what he was, but he did not wish to burden her with all of his problems Clare likely would be horrified if she ever found out the truth about him and he had no desire to learn how well he could regenerate from fire; nor did he wish to lose his relationship with her even if she did not attack him. He wished that he could talk to Father Helmut, who was both a priest and clearly possessed an open mind as far as magic users were concerned. However; he was not sure if the priest's tolerance extended to skin-changing monsters and was not willing to risk it. The thought of talking to Marx or Wilhelmina was laughable. Marx would just stare at him and Wilhelmina would laugh. If they were feeling charitable they would tell him that everything was fine and he was in Sigmar's good graces, but they would say that regardless and they would be primarily interested in getting him back into action and they would say whatever they thought he needed to hear whether or not it was the truth. Also, had not Wilhelmina said that their kind took a less pious view of the gods? How far was such an attitude truly from serving other, darker, gods? Still struggling with these disturbing thoughts he gradually drifted off to sleep.
He was awoken sometime later to the sound of the others rising to their feet and a familiar smell told him that Marx had come. Rising to his feet he saw that his master had indeed joined them. He was standing near the hole that they had blasted clad in swirling robes of gray, the first time that Karl had seen him wear the color. They had the effect of making it seem that he was fading in and out of the shadows, the smell of magic told him that the man was using magic to augment his ability to blend into the shadows. The man was talking to his apprentice and the others were all moving towards them and Karl joined them.
"I followed the man and the results were much more than I had hoped. The man did not go to their headquarters, but rather to mansion in the more affluent parts of the city." At his words al-Kaba smiled an oily smile in the direction of Helmut and gave a little chuckle.
"It seems that members of this particular order of your faith do not share your opinion on the virtue of poverty. I must say I approve of that aspect of them, if nothing else." Helmut only responded with a weary sigh, clearly not in the mood to go over an argument which they had had before. Fortunately, Wilhelmina spoke up and brought the conversation back to the matter at hand.
"Why would they go there and not to their headquarters?"
"I have a theory on that, I believe that they suspected that we were on to them before tonight. By operating from somewhere other than their headquarters they might have been attempting to throw us off of their tracks and since they chose to operate somewhere other than their headquarters that area would be the best choice."
"Why?" Lars asked, inadvertently giving voice to Karl's own confusion. Marx gave Lars a look which was clearly a sign for the large man to be silent and then continued to speak.
"As I was about to say, before I was interrupted, the reasons for them choosing this area to stage their operations is threefold. First, if they think that they are being watched they would assume that anyone who knew about them would go to the Seekers headquarters and so they could operate elsewhere to throw anyone off of their trails. Second, this section of the city is in habited primarily by members of the nobility, high-ranking officers and members of the Court. People in this area expect privacy and the City Watch treads lightly in this part of the city, if they tread there at all." Oskar shuffled his feet and looked unhappy, but said nothing as Marx continued to speak.
"Third, these estates are large, with grounds, a large building and numerous other buildings. This makes it a perfect place to stage an ambush in the event that they are found."
"Meaning that a direct assault is likely out of the question." Helmut said. Marx nodded in reply, apparently priests were excused from glares for interrupting wizards while they were talking.
"Indeed, that also means that whatever cause of action we take we will not be taking it tonight. They will be alert and ready for us. No, we shall depart and give the enemy the impression that we assumed that we have crippled them. I will summon you when I have determined a course of action. I thank you all for your efforts," he paused and looked at several of them; "I shall arrange for your fees to be sent to you." There did not seem to be any more for there to be said, the men all broke up and, departing the warehouse, all went their separate ways. Karl was not familiar with that part of the city and did not know a shorter way home than to accompany Marx, Wilhelmina and Edward back to Marx's home and from there make his way back to his house via the sewers.
Fortunately Olga was asleep, Karl could hear her snores from the kitchen. Karl found that he was hungry, but he did not want to risk waking Olga up, so he made his way upstairs to his room. He did not bother to undress completely, instead pulling his boots and shirt off. He then through himself on the bed and was asleep as soon as he landed on it.
He woke up this morning and decided that he was on the brink of going mad from hunger, a condition which was not improved by the smell of food cooking below. He quickly dressed, making sure that there was no dried blood from the night before and made his way down the stairs where he found Olga taking a loaf of bread out of the oven. On the table there was bacon and several baked apples. As Karl entered the room Olga looked up and smiled.
"Good morning Master. I hope you slept well." Karl smiled in return but made no statement in response. Instead he turned to the food that lay on the table. The bread was still too hot to eat, so he turned his attention to the bacon. It was just the way he like it, thick, not too crispy and greasy.
"Very good." At his compliment she beamed at the compliment and Karl got the impression that she had not received many compliments in her lifetime. As Karl continued to eat he saw that she seemed nervous and looked as if she wished to say something and then stopped, apparently losing her nerve. So Karl decided to make a move.
"Is there something on your mind?" She flushed, but after a moment she began to speak.
"Yes, there is." She paused, seemed to gather her courage and then continued.
"Yesterday, when I was in the market, there were people there announcing that a troupe of players are producing a production of The triumph of Magnus at the Palace of Delight. I have never been to a play before and I would very much like to see it."
"While by all means go." Karl said. He too had never seen a play and he had no desire to deny her the pleasure of seeing one. She smiled, but still looked nervous.
"Is there something wrong?" Karl asked her. She flushed and looked nervous, but at last spoke again.
"The problem is, Master, is that they are charging an entrance fee, five pennies and I don't have any money of my own and…" her voice trailed off.
Karl stopped in mid-chew and felt the urge to hit himself. Of course! How could he have been so stupid?! He had been planning to pay her, but the matter had completely slipped his mind. Cursing mentally he hurried up the stairs to his room. Opening his money chest he found that he had no idea how much to pay Olga. So instead he simply grabbed a handful of silver and copper coins and headed back down. He found a small leather bag and poured the coins into it and handed the bag to Olga. She looked into it and her eyes bulged from her head.
"This is too much, far too much. I can't accept this." She tried to pass the bag back to Karl, but he even more firmly pushed it back to her.
"No," he said in a firm voice; "I insist. When you go to the play take the whole day off and enjoy yourself. That is an order." The last bit was said in a tone of mock sternness and brought a slight, shy smile to her face.
"Well, if you order me to do so, I have no choice." That pleased Karl, the fact that she seemed to be coming out of the shell that she had always seemed to inhabit when he first met her.
After he finished eating he decided he would spend the day exploring the city. Marx had not said when they would act, but Karl assumed that it would not be for at least a few days, at least he hoped so as that would give him some time to relax and enjoy himself. He went upstairs and put more coins in his money-belt and left the house. Not knowing much about the area and having any specific destination in mind, he merely set off walking.
He found that the neighborhood was not very interesting so he made his way northward. As he had been focused on murders and kidnappings he found it strange at first that the events in question seemed to have had no effect on the people of the city, who all seemed to be going about their day as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. He supposed, for them, nothing out of the ordinary was going on. The affairs of wizards and witch hunters meant nothing to them and they probably preferred it that way. It almost seemed like there were two Altdorfs, the one where people went about their days as if nothing unusual was going on, while the other was a shadowy place where it seemed death and danger never ended and people were always at risk.
And here am I, stuck in the middle. Karl thought. He wondered which one he truly belonged to.
If he were to be honest he supposed that he belonged to the Altdorf of the shadows. It was dark and dangerous and he would likely die in a less than pleasant manner, but Ulric and Sigmar save him he enjoyed it. The more he thought about it the more he realized that it was the truth and he felt his mood from earlier lighten. Looking around he realized that if he were to go back to living a normal life he would find it to be unbearably boring. He would still be back in the no-name village that he had grown up in; still likely hiding from his grandfather's wrath. Assuming of course he was not killed with the rest of the village during the Ork attack.
He found himself distracted by the sounds of a crowd gathering and moved over to see what all the commotion was about. A barrel had been set up and a young man, he appeared to be a year or two younger than Karl was, was standing on it juggling. However; he was not juggling anything normal like balls, instead he was juggling torches. Standing between the juggler and the crowd was a second youth, who appeared to be about the same age and it was clear that the two were brothers. He held several more torches in his hands and, at the crowds' urgings, threw them at the juggler, aiming for his face, chest and legs. No matter where he aimed the juggler caught them and incorporated them into the ones he was already juggling.
Karl cheered and clapped along with the rest and dropped a few coins into the hand of the second boy when he moved around the crowd. When the first boy extinguished the torches the show was clearly over and the crowd began to disperse. Karl was going to join them when something caught his eye. A pair of men were eyeing the boys with a look which could only be considered predatory. As the boys went on their way the men waited for a few moments and then began to follow them. Karl, not liking the way the men were looking at the boys, decided to follow, using his sense of smell to keep at a distance and still track them.
The boys were clearly not new to the streets of Altdorf and soon displayed signs that they knew that they were being followed. Without any warning they bolted, with one running along the route that they had been going and the other bolting down a side alleyway. Karl was not sure why, but both men ignored the first and followed the second down the alley. Karl was forced to speed up to keep pace, causing him to shove several people out of the way, which earned him several curses which he paid no mind to. After several tense seconds he caught sight of them again.
The men had caught up with the youth and trapped him against the wall of the alleyway. One of the men had one on the boy's throat while he held a knife in the other. His partner had found the money that the boys had made from the show and was pouring the money into his own money belt. Without thinking, Karl advanced on them, moving faster than he ever had as a human. Even so, he could not move quickly enough for him to avoid attracting the attention of the footpads. The one holding the knife cursed and, dropping the boy, turned to face Karl while his companion produced a club studded with iron spikes.
The men were clearly used to working together to take down opponents. The one with the knife reversed his grip on it and moved to Karl's right while the second man moved to Karl's left. Both men were making feigned attacks to distract Karl and force him to attempt to defend against one while the other moved in. Against people that they were attempting to rob this method might be successful, but Karl had not only experienced combat against far more dangerous opponents and was also far faster and stronger than any of their previous victims had been.
He dashed forward and grabbed the one man's club and, rotating his hips, he threw the man, who had been too stunned to let go of his weapon, into his companion. As they lay sprawled on the ground Karl walked up to them. One was trying to rise, but before he could Karl delivered a kick to the man's head. The blow resounded with a resounding crack, the man's eyes rolled up in his head and he fell to the ground. The other man was reaching for the knife and Karl responded by stamping down on the man's wrist, which broke with a loud snapping sound. As the man curled up around his broken wrist, wailing in agony, Karl turned back to the boy. He had been trying to gather up his money while the fight was going on and now turned his frightened eyes to Karl.
Despite the fear that was clearly visible, there was also defiance. The youth clearly expected Karl to take the money and that his only reason for interfering was so that he could be the one who ended up with the loot instead. Karl suspected that any effort on his part to convince the youth otherwise would be unsuccessful, the human had the look of one who had lived his entire life on the streets and that life had bred a streak of cynicism which was both long and deep. That being the case Karl decided that actions would speak louder than anything that he could say. Thus he merely nodded and turned and walked back the way he had come, pausing at the mouth of the alleyway only long enough to turn back and wish the boy and his brother well and then he was gone. As he walked along the street he found himself pondering on what had just happened.
If he had not been there the boy would have been robbed, as well as likely being beaten and murdered. Like as not nothing would have been done about it, the Watch would likely spend very little effort to find the killers, who would like as not have vanished with their loot to one of the more unfriendly parts of the city. There they would have spent their loot and then gone hunting for their next victim. All of that would have happened if Karl had not been there. As he thought about it he nodded to himself. It might not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but he had helped two boys and made the city a little safer, at least temporarily and it was all thanks to him being a werewolf.
Had he still been human he might not have had the courage to intervene and even if he had there was no guarantee that he would have been able to overcome the two men without being injured or even killed. He reflected on how no was sure where werewolves came from and his own fears that he was indeed a creature of evil. Thinking about what he had just done he wondered if he was indeed a creature of evil and being a werewolf was a curse could he not use it for good? In all of the stories it seemed that the monsters were always stronger and preyed on the weak. Was it so wrong that for once the ones fighting to defend others were strong as well? Once, a traveling priest had delivered a sermon on the nature of the duty which all the people of the Empire owed to their patron god Sigmar. He had told the villagers that Sigmar was a god of war and actions and that even the vilest of men could find redemption if they fought the enemies of Sigmar and his people. Karl was not sure the priest had werewolves in mind, but he chose to take comfort from the thought anyway. Deciding that he was once again hungry and not wanting to spend more money at a tavern, he made his way back to his house.
As he walked through the front door he detected a familiar smell. Sighing in annoyance he followed it into the kitchen. There he found Wilhelmina, again in her guise as a page, sitting at the table while Olga placed bread and fruit in front of her. As Karl entered the room both of them looked up at him.
"Master." Olga said, as she executed a clumsy curtsy.
"He came in not very long ago and said that he had an important message from his master and would wait for you. He seemed hungry and I offered him some refreshment." Wilhelmina started to rise, but something seized Karl and before he could stop himself he found himself speaking up.
"No, no. Finishing eating first boy. Your practically skin and bones." Wilhelmina could not say anything, but her eyes promised that she would make Karl pay for his remark later. Never the less, she finished eating. Once she was done she rose and looked to Karl.
"My master has a message for you. One he said had to be delivered in private." Karl nodded and they made their way up the stairs to his room. Once the door was closed Wilhelmina turned on him, eyes flashing.
"Dogs should not speak with such disrespect to their masters!" She paused and then spoke again.
"And I will have you know, I am not skin and bones!" She looked offended and flushed with embarrassment that Karl had to struggle not to laugh. However; he saw her expression go to one of extreme seriousness and he felt his humor bleed away.
"Has Marx found where our friend went?" She nodded.
"So will we be getting your collection of friends together?" She shook her head.
"They will not be joining us this time. Marx wants this place leveled, no survivors. Additionally, if they were to find evidence of human involvement they would start to scour the city and might uncover our associates and strangers stand out in neighborhoods like this. So it will just Marx, myself and you and you will be going in your wolven form." Karl nodded in understanding.
"And as your associates don't know about me, it would be better if they did not see me like that."
"Exactly." Her face assumed its condescending look.
"Puppy can be quite clever when they are not mocking their owners." She paused and licked her fingers.
"Though your servant is a good cook. Perhaps I should come and fetch you more often at mealtime." With a final smirk she left the room.
"Where are you going?"
"Didn't you hear? I am all skin and bones. I am still hungry. I'll fetch you when the time comes for action."
The day passed slowly as Karl awaited Wilhelmina's return. As he did so he found some of his old fears returning. He had killed before but it was always in the heat of battle and it had usually been against Orks or Beastmen. What if one of them surrendered? Wilhelmina had specifically said no survivors. These thoughts and others made him uneasy and slightly irritable and so he stayed up in his room to avoid taking it out on Olga and spent the day pacing back and forth in his room. Strangely he found that it was almost a relief when night fell and Wilhelmina came for him.
She led them along the streets and he would soon have been lost had not had his superior sense of smell to find his way back the way they had come. She led him down streets lined with houses which gradually became more and more ostentations till they began to resemble small palaces. Despite that he knew that Marx would be joining them Karl was still surprised when the man was suddenly beside them, he had not even smelled him or heard him coming, he was just there. He pointed to a mansion at the end of street.
"There, that is our target. Their disdain for magic means that they have no wards in place." He looked directly at Karl.
"Beast. You will take the front door in your wolven form. There are a number of parties going on so there should be no people about but us and our targets. Wilhelmina will come into the sides while they are distracted by your entrance." There did not appear to be anything more to say so Karl moved toward the building, undoing his clothing as he went. He had not brought his weapons as he had been told that he would not be needing them as he would be fighting in his wolven form. Hiding his clothing in an alleyway he shifted into his wolven form. Despite the power that it gave him he felt exposed. He could be seen by anyone and the whole city could be raised against him. The wolf growled in agreement, the city was no place for one of its kind. Forcing such worries aside he walked towards the door of the building.
Since it seemed that subtlety would be wasted he merely walked up to the double doors and broke it down with a single swipe. The sound did not go unheard and as he made his way through the doorway two men came into the hallway. They gave cries of alarm and produced weapons and charged. Karl lunged forward and swiped at them with his claws. His blows took the first man's face off, but the second man proved to be savvier and ducked under the blow while thrusting forward with his sword. As it bit into his skin Karl yelped in pain. Silver! Their weapons were edged with silver! He instinctively jerked back in an effort to get away from the burning metal and the man took advantage of this stepped forward to strike again.
As he lunged Karl leaned forward and grabbed the blade. He wailed in pain as the blade sliced his palm and fingers. Despite the pain he held on to the weapon a pulled the man in close punched him in the head as hard as he could. The man's head snapped back and there was a loud crack and when the man hit the ground his head lay at an odd angle. Though his wounds still hurt, Karl knew that he did not have time to wait for them to heal and he started off again.
As he along he could smell people everywhere, but he did not see any of them for several minutes. Then, as he was heading through a room, he detected a faint smell of magic. Strangely, it seemed to be coming from below him. He made his way down to the cellar, looked and smelled around for several minutes he found a trapdoor covered by a woven rug. He took the carpet off and pulled the trapdoor open. It was too small for him to fit through in his wolven form and so he shifted into his human form and dropped down.
It did not seem like any basement of cellar that one would see in a normal domicile. It was a long corridor which, like the trapdoor, was too narrow and low for him to shift back into his wolven form and so he proceeded along in his human form till he came to a door at the end of the passageway. He tested it and, to his complete lack of surprise, found that it was locked. The door was of heavy oak and resisted his efforts to break it down by throwing himself against it. He was considering shifting only an arm when he picked up sounds on the other side of the door, it took a moment to determine that the sounds were those of several pairs of booted feet running towards the door. As the door had no portal whomever was coming would not be able to see him till the door was opened so he crouched down and waited, he did not have to wait long before he heard the sounds of a bolt being drawn back. As the door began to open Karl threw himself forward, throwing his full weight against the door. The door flew back, striking the man who was opening it and Karl nearly lost his own footing.
As he recovered himself he quickly took in the room. It was a large room which was illuminated by several lanterns hanging from support beams. These facts were of less importance than the men in the room with him. There were seven of them, dressed in similar fashion to the men that they had seen in the warehouse. Several of them had fallen to the floor, but were quickly getting back to their feet and they and the others were drawing their weapons, all had swords and daggers and several had pistols.
"Die abomination!" One of the men screamed as he took aim. Then Karl smelled magic and it seemed that the very shadows seemed to come alive and from them Marx stepped into the room. Marx was different than Karl had ever seen him. He was hard to make out, seeming to blend in and out of the shadows and when Karl tried to smell him the wizard smelled partially of himself and partially of magic, it was as if the man had merged himself with the magic he used, making almost wraith-like. The half-specter raised his right arm and gestured towards the men, uttered a word and the shadows heeded his command.
The shadows formed tentacles and shot out towards the men. They reached the men and shot up to twist and wrap around the men. The men cursed and uttered prayers while they fought to free themselves from the shadows. They failed. Karl watched in horrified awe as some were smothered and others literally ripped apart by the shadows. Once it was clear that all the men were dead the shadows withdrew to where they had come from and Marx became fully himself again. Karl found himself and the wolf both warry of the man and Karl kept his distance. As if sensing his fear Marx turned his gaze on him and Karl shrank back further.
"Come wolf! We have no time for this." With that Marx began striding across the room towards whatever was beyond. Karl hastily resumed his wolven form and followed after him.
They came to another door and this time Karl was able to rip the door down. As he entered he was hit by the smells of burned flesh and dried blood. While the room was more poorly lit than the previous one Karl could see what it was, a torture chamber. Everywhere he looked Karl saw tools for the infliction of pain. It was not these; however, which seized Karl's attention. It was the woman attached to the rack.
She was stretched out longer than was natural and it appeared that both her arms had been pulled from their sockets. Her head had been shaved and the twin-tailed comet of Sigmar burned onto her forehead. Her naked body displayed a number of bruises and burns and it looked as if all her finger had been broken and her fingernails ripped out. As Marx approached her she open eyes nearly swollen shut from beatings.
"I…confess. I say…whatever you want! Please! No more pain!" Before Marx could reply another door burst open and men, including one in the robes of a priest, entered the room.
"See brothers!" The priest cried, pointing at Marx and Karl.
"The witch reveals her guilt! Her sorcerous and Chaos-touched allies come to her aid!" Marx moved to prepare his magic, but Karl was quicker.
His earlier fear and unease about the situation were gone. She had been foolish, but Agatha Gruben had been innocent, Karl had smelled no corruption on her and these people had kidnapped and tortured her. He thought of Clare being where Gruben was and he found himself both unable and unwilling to control his rage. Howling his rage he lunged forward heedless of the danger the men posed. He would make them pay for what they had done. He would kill them and he would make they experience the fear and pay that they had inflicted on others. The wolf howled in agreement, anticipating the blood to come.
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, sorry that it had been so long since I last updated, I kept being distracted by the modern equivalents of "Oh shiny!" I hope that this makes it up to you. I will try to get the next out sooner. I will not give it away, but I will give a clue. I like to include groups and individuals who do not get mentioned much in the Black Library books. Care to guess who or what it will be? Till next time please pray for the victims of the shootings of the Congress men in Virginia and in California. Also the victims of the fire in London, those threatened for their faith and all who need prayer. Bye and may Jesus bless you.