Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the last chapter and will enjoy this one as well, I own nothing, it belongs to their owners. WARNING: GORE AND OTHER DISTURBING IMAGES.
Afterwards Karl could never quite recall what happened next few minutes. Thinking back all he could remember were images of flashing claws and teeth, the thunder of firearms and the shocks of pain as blades and bullets struck him and above it all was the smell of blood, human and his own. It was everywhere, on him, on the men and on the ground and walls. The smell drove him wild, the Wolf reveled in it even as his human side savored the justice of what he was doing and they both enjoyed the smell of fear that came from the men. That was just; they thrived on pain and reveled in the fear which they elicited in other, let them feel some as well, but that was not the greatest pleasure, there was something else.
He suddenly became aware of something with a highly pleasing taste in his mouth. He swallowed and went looking for more of it when he became aware of a sound. It was distracting and irritating and Karl attempted to ignore it, trying to find more of the pleasant taste, but the sound would not stop. With a growl he turned towards the sound, determined to silence it. He found it and, to the wolf's annoyance, it was familiar in some way. The wolf knew that in some way the voice had power over him, but the wolf was enjoying itself and did not want to heed the voice. It found more of the pleasing substance and swallowed, determined to shut out the voice. The voice would not go away; however, and continued to sound in the wolf's mind. Gradually it wore away Karl's and the wolf's rage and Karl's consciousness rose to the surface and he returned to human form. He looked around and found himself in a scene horrifically similar to the one he had awoken to in his grandfather's home.
The men, or rather the chunks of bloody meat which had once been men, lay all around him and Karl himself was covered with blood. Worse, it struck him as to what the pleasing flavor was. His suspicion was confirmed by the full feeling in his stomach. He had not just been killing them, he had been eating them. Horror flooding him he rushed to the corner and was violently sick. After he finished he slowly got to his feet and discovered that Wilhelmina had joined them and was untying Gruben. She was staring at Karl in a way which she had never done before, it was mixture of uneasiness and revulsion. Monster her look seemed to say.
Karl felt disgust welled up within himself and he just wanted to curl up in a corner and have it all go away. But that was not an option, he forced himself to his feet, trying his best to ignore the fullness of his stomach and the blood coating his body. He walked up to Marx and awaited instructions. As he did so he noted that the wizard showed neither fear nor loathing, as if he was not at all surprised at Karl's actions. He stared at Karl for a moment and then he turned back to speak to Wilhelmina, who had turned her full attention back undoing the bonds holding Gruben.
"Finish getting her out of those bonds take her to the safe house." Not waiting for a reply he turned his attention to Karl.
"Beast, you may return to your dwelling until I have further need of you." Part of Karl truly did wish to flee the place, but he found himself arguing with his master.
"Do you not still need me here?" The wizard made an impatient sound in the back of his throat.
"If I still needed you I would have said so." He stated in a tone of strained patience.
"No, you have dealt with all who are here I think and even if one or two were missed I will be able to deal with them. You have done what I required of you here and the rest requires abilities which you lack. Now go." This last was said in a tone which booked no argument. Karl nodded and departed, going out of his way not to look at Wilhelmina as he passed.
Not wanting to be seen walking through the streets naked he shifted into the form of a wolf and hoped that if anyone saw him they would mistake him for a large dog. The blood clung to his fur, continuing to make him feel unclean and causing him to determine that the first thing that he would do when he got home would be to bath. He kept to the walls of buildings as much as possible, paused whenever he heard or smelled people coming near him, certain that at any moment someone would raise a cry of alarm and he would be running from the Watch or an ad hoc mob. However; no such alarm was raised and he at last found himself at his home. Unwilling to risk being seen at the last moment he went to the alleyway behind the house and nudged a kitchen window open and slid inside.
Olga had gone to bed, but there was a bucket of water on the floor. Karl took a rag, dipped it in the bucket and began to wash himself off. He did this for several minutes until he was sure that he had gotten the worst of the blood off of himself, though he could not be entirely certain in the dark. He took the bucket to the door and threw it out into the alley. He was going to refill the bucket for Olga, but realized that he did not know where Olga got the water. He hated to do it, but he was just going to have to leave the bucket for her to fill in the morning. Feeling tired and drained he headed up to his room. Not wanting to risk getting anything on the sheets he lay on the floor and was soon asleep.
He awoke the next day to the feeling the sun shining down on him. His stomach hurt and now in the light of day he saw that he had not managed to get all blood off the night before and that the blood had become partially dry and somewhat sticky. Disgusted, he went to the nightstand, where Olga had thoughtfully left for him a pitcher of water. He washed himself thoroughly once again and when finished he threw the water out the window. This done, he put on clean clothing and was about to go downstairs when he stopped himself. He was still feeling upset by what had happened last night and if he went downstairs immediately then he might let some of what he was feeling show and that would upset Olga and he did not want to have that happen. So he sat down and tried to bring his feelings under control.
It was not the killing that had upset him, he had become used to killing since leaving his village and many of those whom he had killed had not only been non-human, but had also been enemies of the Empire and its people. The men he had killed the night before had also been enemies; enemies which had tortured and killed innocent people. No, it was not the killing itself which bothered him, it was the fact that he had been eating their flesh afterwards. He had not meant to do so, it had been an instinctual thing and he had not even realized what he was doing till Marx called him out from the wolf's conrol. The thought of what he had done sickened him, the act made him no better than the monsters from the forests. Then another thought struck him, one which made his whole body feel as if his blood had been replaced with ice-water. What if Clare were ever to find out?
No, that could not happen! The mere thought of it, of her face becoming like Wilhelmina's had been last night made it hard for Karl to breath. Though he had not spoken with her often he found the thought of her hating him, or worse, fearing him because to her he seemed like some relative to the creatures of the wild which she hated so much. Karl moaned as he thought of Wilhelmina. Though they had not started off very well and he doubted that even now their relationship could be considered normal he found that he would be sad if she were to think of him as a monster, as it seemed that she now did.
The question was what he was going to do to prevent it from happening again in the future. The mere knowledge that he could lose control any time that he gave into his anger, as he did last night, sickened him. It also disheartened him. Part of the way he had dealt with becoming a werewolf was the belief that he had remained pure, that while his body may be monstrous, his soul was not. Last night's events seemed to have put the lie to that belief. Perhaps those who had called him monster had been right to do so, as was the distain which it seemed Wilhelmina now held him in. Karl felt an overwhelming urge to either scream or cry, maybe both.
It was not fair! He had not asked for any of this! While he may not have been the most pious of individuals he had managed a few prayers now and then. There had been several people in the village, including his grandfather, who were far worse than he was. Why had the gods cursed him like this? Why had they made him a monster? It was all just too much for him to take! He covered his mouth with his pillow and made a loud but incoherent sound into it. He remained still for a moment, allowing calmness to settle over him. During this pause and subsequent calmness he was able to look at his current situation in a different, more optimistic manner.
He may be a monster, but that did not mean that he had to remain one, if people could become worse, as the priests warned, did that not mean that people could become better? If he had not become what he had become he would have died with the rest of his village and since becoming a werewolf had he not done what his gods demanded that he do? He had fought for the Empire, killed vampires, Bestmen and more, including saving Clare. Would his grandfather have done that? The thought made him snort, if the man had used being a werewolf for anything other than being an even greater bully than he already had been Karl would have been surprised.
In the end there was nothing that could be done about what had happened to him and Karl would just have to make the best of things and if Clare came to hate him then at least she would be alive to hate him. Feeling sorry for himself would accomplish nothing, he had done the best he could with the hand that he had been dealt and hope that that was enough to satisfy the gods. Feeling somewhat better Karl straightened himself and went downstairs, finding that his appetite had returned and he was ready and eager for breakfast and he was now ready to face Olga.
As he descended the stairs he could smell bacon and sausages frying, as well as fresh bread. These smells brought a smile to his face, it was far better fare than he had ever enjoyed living with his grandfather. The old man had been a miser about everything but his drinking funds and often they only had meat on feast days and not always then.
Yes, I just have to make the best of things and not all of it is bad. Karl thought to himself.
He arrived in the kitchen to find that Olga had already set the table for breakfast and Karl lost no time in digging in. At first all of his attention was on the food and satisfying his newly-discovered apatite to really notice anything else. After he had wolfed down about half his breakfast he noticed an unfamiliar sound, after a moment of listening to it he realized that Olga was humming, something that he had never heard her do before.
"I see that you enjoyed the play." Karl said with a smile. At his words she stopped humming, her face flushing with embarrassment.
"No…I mean, yes. Yes I had a very good time master." Karl arched an eyebrow and her flush deepened.
"Did something happen?" She looked nervous and Karl was about to drop the subject when Olga began to speak again.
"Well…during the play there were vendors selling drinks and snacks. I was just about to purchase one, when a man stepped in and insisted on paying for me.
"I was suspicious at first, but he did not ask for anything for his kindness. We got to talking after the play. He was very nice and said that he had seen much of the world and he told me all kinds of stories about the places which he has been to." Her face took on an expression of both nervousness and excitement.
"In fact, he said that he wants to meet again tomorrow."
As she spoke Karl felt his suspicions rise. It was not that he was jealous; rather he was concerned for her. Despite her upbringing Olga could be far more trusting than one would expect and Karl did not want to see her hurt or worse. From the look of things Olga seemed to be infatuated with him and Karl determined to find out what he could about the man. He would have to be careful as he did not want to ruin things if her mysterious suitor turned out to innocent of any nefarious purposes as he really did want Olga to be happy.
"And what is the name of this love-sick swain?" He ask, schooling his face into a look of disinterested amusement.
"His name is Faaid al-Kaba. He said he is from the country of Araby, he is very handsome and so exotic." As she continued to speak Karl just sat in silence.
Faaid al-Kaba of Araby, one of the men employed by Marx. What did this mean? Was Marx using him to keep tabs on Karl? Karl did not see why Marx would use such a roundabout way of keeping an eye on him. Never the less, he resolved that he would ask Marx about it the next time he saw him and if the wizard would not give him an answer, then he would confront Kaba himself and get an answer out of him. The decision made, he returned his attention to his breakfast. As he ate he found himself hoping that Kaba's intentions were honorable. Olga had had a hard life and she deserved to have some happiness. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Olga went to answer it and returned a moment later with Edward in tow. As the Halfling entered the room he gave a quick bow.
"Greetings. The Master has a message for you. He instructs you to come with me to meet him at once." Karl stifled a groan. He had not slept nearly enough in his opinion and he had been planning to spend the day taking it easy. Now it seemed that that was not to be the case. For a moment he considered telling Edward that he could not go, but decided against it. Marx would likely not take his refusal well and Karl did not to test him right now. Marx had not seemed either surprised or upset by what Karl had done, but he may have been hiding how he truly felt.
"Very well; let us be off." He rose from the table and nodded to Olga.
"Thank you, that was delicious as always." She nodded back, the mention of his master clearly making her nervous. With that, Karl and Edward left the house.
This time they did not make use of the sewers, instead walking through the streets. Despite the early hour there were already a number of people on the streets and all the shops that Karl saw were open. Edward navigated the crowd with ease, slipping through gaps and twisting to avoid being knocked over by the other people on the street, most of whom were significantly taller than he was. Karl, on the other hand, lacked that skill and had to make do with being taller and stronger than most of those around him to force his way through the growing press of people.
As they moved along Karl realized that they were not heading to Marx's house. He was about to ask where they were going, but decided against it. The Halfling looked as if he could be quite tight-lipped if he wanted and would likely refuse to answer any questions. Karl would just have to wait and see where they were going when they got there. He doubted that Marx was planning to have him murdered, at least he hoped so. His fears were further reduced when they arrived at a tavern, it was not Marx's style to act in such a public place.
They found him sitting in a booth clad in an outfit similar to the one that he had been wearing when Karl first met him. Karl gave a quick look around and saw that there was no sign of Wilhelmina anywhere, he was not sure if he was upset or relieved that she was not present. As they approached and the smile that he had had before blossomed on his face. Karl wondered briefly how long the wizard on how to practice that before he could do so and make it look natural.
"My dear boy! It is wonderful to see you again! It has been far too long since we last saw each other!" Despite this all being said in a loud voice it attracted very little attention from those around them. A few men looked up and then went back to whatever they had been doing prior to the outcry from Marx. Once there presence was acknowledged Edward turned and departed without a word.
Figuring what he was supposed to do, Karl walked up to Marx and sat down across from the wizard. A barmaid came up and placed a glass of wine in front of Marx while Karl ordered a beer. Once she had gone they stared at each other for a moment. Karl did not know what was going on and did not want to start the conversation and the wizard was driving the point home. At last Marx seemed to decide that the point had been made and began to speak.
"I am meeting someone else here soon and so we do not have much time. I wish that I could give you some time to rest, but matters have come to a head and I need you to act immediately.
"You will no doubt remember Freda Kasarea, the abbess of Shallya, whom you were so kind as to help us acquire." Karl, remembering that night, suppressed a shudder as he remembered the feelings that he had experienced that night. Fortunately the barmaid returned with his beer at that moment. He drank deeply and merely nodded his agreement with Marx, who waited till the woman had left before he began to speak again.
"She proved most stubborn, her kind are usually highly resistant to traditional forms of interrogation, if anything they seem to enjoy it. However; we at last were able to get her to talk. The information indicates that another cult is operating in Darstonburg, a village a week's ride from here.
"Freda claims that something is planned by the group there to honor the coming of winter. The Celestial Wizards state that this winter will be long and hard, making travel near impossible. I need you to go and disrupt whatever it is that they are planning it is a large event and could have far-reaching consequences.
"If it is as large a threat as she claims it is, then it if is allowed to manifest itself then it could take an entire army to deal with it and as the weather will greatly increase the difficulty of executing such an operation. No, far better for the matter to be dealt with quickly and quietly and right now you are the only one that I can send capable of dealing with it on your own." He reached into his clothing and took out a pouch of coins and tossed it to Karl.
"There is a horse waited for you in the stable with supplies in the saddlebags. This money should be enough to see to any expenses. There is also a map with Darstonburg marked on it. I will have Edward inform your servant that you have left." With that he stopped speaking, Karl clearly dismissed. Karl rose and was about to go, when he stopped.
Marx's mention of Olga reminded him of the matter of Kaba. He did not want to leave until he had spoken of the matter, even if his master only lied to him. He cleared his throat to get Marx's attention and after a moment the wizard looked up, clearly annoyed that Karl was still there. Intimidated by the look, but determined to say what was on his mind.
"With regards Olga, she mentioned today that Faaid al-Kaba is courting her. Did you send him to use her to keep an eye on me?" Marx, clearly wishing for Karl to be gone, gave an exasperated sigh.
"If I wanted you watched I wouldn't need to employ such tactics. In fact, if I wanted you watched you would never even suspect that I was doing so. Now, if that is all, I believe that you have a task to perform." He turned his attention away from Karl and Karl did not dare tarry any longer and took his leave.
The stable boy pointed him to his horse, a gray gelding, which was indeed already saddled and ready to go. Karl mounted and rode the horse from the stable and towards the gates. Fortunately the gate was near and guards did not give him a second glance as he rode past. Once out of the city Karl took the road north and set off. He kept the horse at a steady pace all day and when he made camp that night he was well beyond the city.
Winter was indeed fast approaching and the night was cold and wind colder still. Not daring to shift forms lest he be seen Karl built a fire and shivered in his blanket. When he awoke the next morning there was a light layer of frost on the ground and while it soon vanished as the morning Karl took it as a bad sign that it was still autumn and he was not in the northern parts of the Empire. It seemed that the wizards were correct, the winter was indeed going to be a hard one. That would be hard on the peasants and poor townspeople in the cities. There was nothing that Karl could do about that, but he could deal with the threat from the cultists. That thought filled him with resolve, the people of the Empire suffered enough, they did not need more suffering on top all the suffering which the cultists and the…things…that they served.
The further north he rode the colder it became, additionally his path took him off the main road, which further slowed his progress and caused him to curse cultists and their inability to hatch their plots in places which did not require one to tramp through the wilderness in order to kill them. However; as he neared the village of Darstonburg the wind shifted which brought the smell to him, one which he was all too familiar with, the smell of blood and magic. He dismounted and, tying the horse to a tree, continued forward on foot. As he drew closer he could hear the crackling of flames and the sounds of buildings collapsing under the flames. What he did not hear; however, were any sounds of life. No one yelling or screaming, no sounds of anyone attempting to fight the fires which were clearly consuming the village. He at last reached the tree line which separated him from the village. He took a deep breath, drew his sword and pistol and broke from the trees to behold a nightmare.
The whole village had been laid to waste, with seeming all the buildings either burning or collapsed. Items were scattered all over the ground. Karl guessed that the attackers, whomever they were and Karl could make a good guess as to who was responsible, had dragged the contents of the buildings out into the streets, took what they wanted and left the rest. These were not the things which drew Karl attention and which made him want to either find those responsible and tear them to pieces and/ or fall to the ground and empty the contents of his stomach. What did make him want to do those things were the bodies and the symbols.
Everywhere Karl looked there were bodies, men, women of all ages and while it looked as if some had tried to fight, most seemed to have been trying to flee. Hardest to look at were the mothers who had fallen with babies in their arms. Nor had they mere been killed, their bodies had been hacked to pieces and the parts thrown hither, thither and yon till it seemed that they had all been slain by demented butcher. All of this mutilation hid something from Karl at first, but gradually it came to him. There were too few bodies and all those present were adults. Where were the children?
Not seeing any point in hiding it anymore, Karl replaced his weapons and shifted into his wolven form. Rising to his full height and sniffed the air. All the smells combined together and threatened to overwhelm him and it was impossible to separate one smell from another. Giving up and that he tried to think. That proved to be difficult as in his current form the wolf was dominate and it wanted to fight, to hunt and do to whomever had done this what he had done back in Altdorf. While pleasing, these thoughts were distracting and made it hard for Karl to think clearly. With an effort he forced his mind back to the present and tried to consider the situation the way Brother Werner would. Where would the cultists take the children? They were devotees of Chaos, they hated Sigmar above all things. They would want to desecrate anything associated with the god. Karl turned and lopped towards the temple of Sigmar which stood, as all temples usually were, in the center of the village.
The doors of the temple hung open as Karl approached, which struck Karl as odd. Temples of Sigmar were usually the strongest building in smaller villages and the residents usually took refuge within during times of danger. Indeed, it had looked as if some of the villagers had been attempting to flee to the temple when they were overtaken and killed. Suspecting and dreading what he would find, but needing to confirm it, he steeled himself and entered the temple. It was even worse than outside.
The temple, as he suspected had been desecrated. The hammer had been cast from the alter and symbols which Karl did not want to look at scrawled across it. More bodies filled the pews, seated as if they were congregants in some macabre service. More symbols had been dabbed on the walls, but the worst of all was the priest. He had been hung by his wrists from a rope tied to a beam. He had been tortured and mutilated, even worse than the others. His eyes were gone, pieces of flesh had been cut from his body, his genitals mutilated and his intestines torn out and either hanging down or wrapped around the beams. From the expression on what was left of his face the man had been alive for most, if not all of it. Yet still, there was no sign of the children. Feelings of revulsion and sickness overwhelming even his anger, Karl rushed from the temple and falling onto his hands and knees he was violently sick.
He was not certain how long he remained there. He tried to rise several times, but each time he tried to do so the feelings of sickness overwhelmed him and forced him back to his hands and knees. At last he was able to stand again. The cult was gone, but his duty was still the same, to find and kill them. The horrors which they had perpetrated on the citizens of Darstonburg could not be allowed to go unpunished. He shifted back to his human form and looked to the sky.
"I swear to you, Sigmar of the Hammer and to you, Ulric, the White Wolf! I shall find the ones who did this and they shall feel the wrath of your vengeance!" With that his stomach seemed to at last settle sufficiently for him to rise to his feet again.
If he was going to find the cultists he had to first find their trail and catch up to them. Hopefully they would be on foot and he could catch up to them on horseback. First; however, he had to pick up their scent so that he could follow it. He went out of the village and began sniffing around in an effort to pick up their trail. It was difficult at first as he kept confusing the smells from the village with the trail of the cultists. At last he picked up a scent which was clearly leading away from the village. He shifted back to his human form, gathered up his possessions and returned to his horse, mounted and set off.
Following the trail was difficult at times, the presence of the horse prevented him from changing into his wolven form and thus limited his ability to smell. He considered abandoning the animal, but decided against it. From the carnage that he had seen it was clear that there were a number of cultists and he needed to conserve his energy for the battle to come. Fortunately the enemy left more than their stench behind. They did, in fact, leave a number of other pieces of evidence of their passage. The branches of a number of tree were snapped and broken and the grass was trampled down. There were also items here and there that had clearly been looted from the village and dropped by the cultists when they left the village. It was clear that they did not expect anyone to follow them and so they made no effort to conceal the rout that they were taken. Despite their carelessness, or perhaps because of it, they appeared to be moving with considerable speed and Karl rode all that day and saw no sign of them.
He pushed the horse through the night for as long as he could, but at last he was forced to stop for the night in order to allow the horse to rest. He did not dare light a fire for fear that they might see it and so he huddled in his blanket and studied the map that Marx had given him. He hoped that by studying the map he might determine where they were going and what they might be planning to do once they arrived there. Unfortunately, the map was of little help. Whatever cartographer had drawn the map had either had little knowledge of the countryside, or had not considered it important. Even the location of the village of Darstonburg was only marked on the map because Marx had done so to aid Karl in his efforts.
Therefore, Karl found himself staring at the part of the map that he thought he was in and seeing only a blank space. No towns, no villages, no rivers, mountains or roads. There appeared to be literally nothing of any value at their location or anywhere along the cultists' path for some considerable distance. That was disturbing. Cults sought to corrupt the world around them, something that they could not do if there were no other people around them, at least as far as Karl knew, he was hardly an expert on such matters and he had no desire to be one. Regardless, if the cultists were going out of their way to avoid detection then it seemed that whatever the ceremony that Marx believed the cultists were planning was going to be something big. Whatever it was Karl knew that it did not bode well for the Empire and needed to be stopped.
The hunt continued all the next day, with the cultists still ahead of him and moving relatively swiftly, but with Karl closing the distance steadily. When the sun rose on the third day of the chase Karl sensed a disturbing change. The wind was coming from the direction of the cultists and it brought with it the smell of magic. It seemed that they had reached a point which, for whatever reason, seemed to have some significance to the cultists and were preparing their ritual. While that was a bad thing for the Empire, it was actually beneficial for Karl. It meant that they had, at last, stopped moving and Karl had more than adequate time to catch up with them and prepare an ambush. He could only hope that the cultists behaved somewhat like the Beastmen that he had rescued Clare and the other children from. It would be very convenient and helpful for Karl if they all got drunk and started fighting amongst themselves.
Unfortunately, Karl had a feeling that he would not be that fortunate. What caused him the greatest unease were the children that they had taken from the village. Whatever the cultists were planning to do would undoubtedly involve them, otherwise they would simply have killed them with the rest of the village. If they did something to the child then Karl would have no choice but to attack whether the cultists were incapacitated in some way or not. Well, there was only one way to find out. Karl mounted his horse, while muttering a quick pray to Sigmar and Ulric and was on his way.
The ride to the camp took longer than he had expected; due to the fact that he could smell the magic so clearly he had thought that he was closer to the cultists than he actually was, whatever the ritual was it was clearly one of great power. Thus it was almost noon by the time he drew close to his prey. As he drew near he began to smell the cultists themselves and hear them as well. The smells and magic in the air began to disturb the horse so Karl dismounted and proceeded the rest of the way on foot. It appeared that the cultists were so certain of the impossibility of their being detected that they had failed to place any sentries and Karl was able to move right up to their camp. The camp was set up in a wide clearing and Karl stopped just at the edge of the tree line and stared out at the camp.
The camp was set up in a manner that bore little to no resemblance to the Imperial army camp which Karl had seen before the battle with the Beastmen. Tents of purple and pink silk were set up in no particular order. Karl could see no supply wagons anywhere, with food and other goods seemingly just piled up seemingly wherever the cultists had been when they stopped. The only exception to the general air of disorder was the center of the camp, where it appeared that some form of ceremony was to be conducted.
It was a wide area which had been cleared of plant life. A group of cultists were digging a pit in the center of the clearing. They clearly wanted it deep as the pit already up to their waists and they showed no sign of slowing their efforts. While they continued their effort, another group of cultists moved around the pit, keeping far enough out that they did not risk having dirt thrown on them. At various points they paused and placed a small alter covered with obscene symbols and images while they chanted over them. When they were finished they had six of the alters all evenly spaced apart from one another. Karl did not know what purpose the alters served, but he was pretty sure that he did not want to know, though he had a feeling that he was going to find out before his business with the cultists was done.
Of more concern from Karl was the fact that he could not see the children no matter where he looked. They must have them in one or more of the various tents which they had set up. He smelled the air, trying to locate them, but he was not able to. The corrupt smell of the cultists and the other smells of the camp masked their scent. He wished that Wilhelmina was with him, he was sure that she would have some spell or other that would tell them where the children were, or at least make it so that Karl could get close enough that he could smell them out without fear of him being detected.
While they did not appear that they had taken any precautions, such as placing sentries, that did not mean that it would be a simple matter to sneak into the camp. For all that he knew they might have placed wards and all the other smells were masking them. Which meant that Karl might not be able to smell them until he was close enough to them to activate them. While the cultists did not look overly formidable, appearances could be deceiving. There could be mages among them, or they might be great warriors. After all, Elves did not look dangerous, until they were cutting your heart out.
Just then a flock of birds near him took to the air. Karl shot his head around, sniffing the air in an effort to trace the source of the disturbance. He shifted his nose to smell better and inhaled deeply. There was definitely someone nearby, but they did not smell like the cultists. Indeed, the individual, it only smelled as if there was one person, smelled differently than anyone that Karl had smelled before. His earlier assumption was somewhat incorrect, the person did smell somewhat like the cultists, but also very different at the same time. His thoughts were interrupted when the source of the smell appeared before him. At first Karl thought the individual was an ogre, but he then realized that it was a man, a giant of a man. He stood easily taller than Karl and looked as if even in his wolven form Karl would not be that much taller than the…man. He appeared to be extremely burly as well; though how much of this was the man's own physique and how much of it was due to the man's armor.
He was clad head to foot in plate armor in colors of white, black and gold with a leering skull in the center of the breastplate. He bore a shield of the same colors and bore a massive sword in his hand. It was larger than the one which Karl bore; it was both longer and thicker, with one side being cruelly serrated. He seemed surprised to see Karl and immediately brought his sword up and crouched down into an attack stance. Karl mimicked he man's action, pulling out his swords rather than his pistol. While a sword fight still had a chance of attracting the attention of the cultists, a pistol shot surly would. He braced for the attack, planning to let the other attack first in the hopes that the man would be made overconfident by his armor and would attack carelessly. But the man did not attack, he just stood there and stared at Karl. Though Karl could not explain it, it seemed that the man was smelling him in turn. Not with his nose, but smelling was the closest word which Karl could think of. After a moment the man's demeanor changed. He sheathed his blade and raised his hand, palm facing Karl, in the traditional sign of a man wishing to parley. Karl, not certain what was going, but wishing to avoid a fight if possible, copied the gesture. After a moment, the man spoke.
"I detect not the stench of the Prince of Pleasure about you. I count you not among his devotees." Karl was not used to someone speaking in such a manner, but the man's meaning was clear.
"No, I am not." He considered it for a moment and then decided to take a chance and spoke further.
"Indeed, I seek their destruction." The man nodded, clearly expecting such an answer. The man in his turn seemed to think for a moment. He too then came to a decision.
"Our goals then are the same, for I seek their destruction as well at the command of my god. As our goals are compatible I propose an alliance, combined those reaches and their masters shall prove to be no match for our combined strength. For though I see that, whatever else you may be, I see that you are no mere man." Karl was surprised by this turn of events, they had gone from enemies to possible allies in the time one could hold their breathe. Karl had several questions for the stranger, but he chose to focus on the most the most important at the moment before he made a decision.
"Who are you? Are you a Templar of Sigmar?" The man did not look like any Templar that Karl had ever seen, not that he was on expert on the matter. The man, for his part, snored and then drew himself up and spoke in a proud voice.
"I am Neidhard Grabner of the Doomed Ones. I serve not the boy-god Sigmar. I speak of the Outcast God. The Lost God. The Renegade God who shall destroy the Four. I speak of Malal."
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, how was it? I wanted to show him coming to grips with the more savage aspects of his new condition. How was it? Did he recover too fast? How about the introduction of Malal? I read about him and found the concept interesting and Karl does not necessarily know Malal is a Chaos god, having never heard of him and will only see him as a god who fights Chaos. Till next time, please pray for the victims of the flooding in Texas and all who need prayer. Bye and may Jesus bless you.