Hexentag, 2401
The light crept up over the edge of the World's Edge mountains far away to the east as I rubbed the sleep away from my eyes for the seventh time in the last few minutes. The entirety of our war host, a few hundred men at arms and knights, was arrayed before me along the bridge crossing the River Reik near Leydenhoven. I tugged on the warm winter clothing I wore to protect me from the icy chill of the Wasteland breezes. I looked down over the ridge onto the partial legion of troops under the command of my master, the Inquisitor Enric Helsinc.
"You see that, boy?" a gruff voice came from behind me. I jumped, startled, and turned around. A mighty warhorse stood a dozen or so feet behind me, Helsinc astride the beast in heavy armour. He reminded me of images I'd seen of him in old tomes: a valiant warrior of horse back with long raven black hair streaming out from the back of his hair, a mighty sword in hand and gleaming armour on his back. But things were slightly different now; his hair was of salt and pepper, and his armour was battered from years of valiant service to the Emperor. He held no sword now instead wearing a brace of pistols, magically enchanted to store the souls of two demons stolen through his work, and one of his eyes had been replaced years ago with an magical substitute after it was lost battling a heretic. Even then, he was still a sight to behold on the back of the mighty charger.
"Yes, Master Helsinc," I said, glancing back over the battallion. I coughed, "There are quite a few people, it seems, that trust your judgement over that of the Emperor." We had been over this enough times as it was, and I didn't intend to get into this discussion again; my master had gathered these troops together against the permission of the Emperor, against the very will of our patron Sigmar, to fight against a force that no one had any proof even existed.
The old man dismounted from his horse and laughed, "You still don't believe me, do you child?" He looked out over the Wasteland, his magical eye scanning every square inch of terrain, "Even so, you will, child. You will believe me when his troops march over that far rise." He could clearly guess that even his years of experience fighting the hellspawn of chaos throughout the lands didn't have me convinced, and continued, "Just remember child - when the Emperor finally realizes I was right after our victory here today, he will recognize what we have done. You see, young child, if the forces of chaos are unchallenged here, they will surround the Emperor in his battle against the greenskins in the south..."
I nodded briefly, "I understand, Master Helsinc. It's just..." Coughing, I tugged on the fur that wrapped me, pulling them even tighter around myself. The old man looked at me with a face that was urging me to finish my comment. Slowly, I answered, "Master Helsinc, if you're wrong, we'll all be executed for heresy."
"If I'm wrong, boy?" the old man laughed at the thought. He clamped his hand on my shoulder, "If I'm wrong, child, then our Old World is doomed. If I'm wrong, and our enemy has chosen to appear elsewhere, there will be no stopping the hordes of chaos." He waved towards the horizon, "For you see..."
There was a sudden clatter of shields and armour as the front line reorganized. A group of three soldiers, only one bearing a rider, came shattering through the line, arrows piercing the flanks of the horses and the back of the solitary rider. I could see the look of shock on my master's face as he stopped midsentence and rushed back to his horse, charging it down from the rise and towards the rider. I chased after him, the sound of my footsteps breaking against the snowy fields. This was a dangerous sign.
I skidded to a halt, nearly sliding into the back of one of the soldiers who crowded around the young scout as he fell from the back of his horse. I pushed my way through the crowd to the side of my master, the place I belonged on the verge of a coming battle; glancing worriedly at the scout, I noticed for the first time how serious his wounds were.
A trio of arrows punctured the man's side, gathered around the site of a vital organ. Thin trickles of blood ran down from his forehead which was covered with shallow cuts. But these were nothing compared to the gaping slash across his chest; green puss oozed from the gouge, which ran the length of his stomach. Blood poured freely from the open wound, staining the edges of his clothing and armour. The edges of the wound seemed to burn red under the puss. It was a sickening sight; I turned quickly, pushing my way back out of the circle and tossed my weak breakfast into the scarce vegetation.
As I regained my composure, I saw my master's head appear in the middle of the crowd; apparently, he had learned all he believed he could from the man. The crowd began to break up as my master turned and took a few steps from the scout, "May Sigmar guide you safely into the afterlife, child..." Helsinc drew a single pistol and turned, firing a shot square into the chest of the dying man; there was a flash of light and a chilling howl as the demon's soul, imbued within both the pistol and the lead shots, fed upon the lifeforce of the young soldier and was satisified. A purplish haze floated away from the body, now reduced to a simmering pile of ash that was blown away in the early morning winds.
My jaw dropped in horror as I watched the ash fade into the wind, and Helsinc clamped his hand onto my shoulder, "That blade was from the sword of a demon of Chaos, a bloodletter of Khorne. There was nothing I could do for him, child, so I ended his misery." I looked at him, stammering to find words; I had never seen Master Helsinc simply kill like that, and especially never a human. He usually reserved the demon-bound pistols for his quarry; to use such a device for such a cause... He nodded as he saw my confusion, "Had I let the flesh carry on, he would've become another follower of the demon gods. I would rather kill a man any day than let him fall to that terrible fate." I could see the dark hatred in his eyes as he spoke of the demon gods, the four great gods of Chaos that resided in a realm that was forcing itself upon our own world.
Slowly, he released my shoulder and began shouting to the troops, "Our departed friend has told me that the armies of our enemy lie just beyond the ridge across the river. They'll be upon us before the sun rises a quarter of the way into the sky. Break out the ballista, and align them to fire directly across the bridge!" He remounted his horse, marching it down the lines of troops as they assembled, "Our enemy knows we are waiting for him, and I shall not dissappoint him! He shall meet the full force of our Imperial forces!" I turned my head back towards our camp where a shot of steam rose into the air and a quiet rumbling slowly began to permeate.
Helsinc let out a laugh, "We will show him that nothing, not even the dark gods themselves, can topple the Empire of Sigmar!" He thrust his fist into the air, and the troops followed suit, letting out a rallying cry. The rumbling continued, growing louder. My master, looking more youthful than he had in years, nodded and called out, "For the time of our enemy is running out! For no man, no matter what manner of foul creature possesses his body, has ever withstood the might of Enric Helsinc!" There was another massive rallying cry as the source of the rumbling came into view: a massive metal contraption of hissing, hot steam and rattling joints. It was a symbol of the might of the Empire: a steam tank.
Riding over to me, my master signalled me to mount my horse. He turned back to his soldiers once more, "My comrades! We fight for the Emperor and for our homelands! Know this – if we fail here, the entire Empire will feel the tragic reprecussions of our defeat. No man, nor woman, nor child will wake again after this day without knowing the results of our battle here! Warriors of the Emperor – we fight for our futures!" For a third time, a mighty roar came from the assembled troops, through far louder than the others.
I watched as Helsinc turned to me, "Lift that cursed sword of yours, child. It's time for you to prove that you're more than that whelp your parents left me with." He let out a hearty laugh and rode off to the head of the column. Helsinc was a far different man now from the introverted, crusty old Inquisitor I had been inducted into the service of seven months ago. A lot had happened since then, it was true. I wasn't even sure if I was the same person anymore. Drawing the heavy blade from my side, I followed after Master Helsinc.
The light crept up over the edge of the World's Edge mountains far away to the east as I rubbed the sleep away from my eyes for the seventh time in the last few minutes. The entirety of our war host, a few hundred men at arms and knights, was arrayed before me along the bridge crossing the River Reik near Leydenhoven. I tugged on the warm winter clothing I wore to protect me from the icy chill of the Wasteland breezes. I looked down over the ridge onto the partial legion of troops under the command of my master, the Inquisitor Enric Helsinc.
"You see that, boy?" a gruff voice came from behind me. I jumped, startled, and turned around. A mighty warhorse stood a dozen or so feet behind me, Helsinc astride the beast in heavy armour. He reminded me of images I'd seen of him in old tomes: a valiant warrior of horse back with long raven black hair streaming out from the back of his hair, a mighty sword in hand and gleaming armour on his back. But things were slightly different now; his hair was of salt and pepper, and his armour was battered from years of valiant service to the Emperor. He held no sword now instead wearing a brace of pistols, magically enchanted to store the souls of two demons stolen through his work, and one of his eyes had been replaced years ago with an magical substitute after it was lost battling a heretic. Even then, he was still a sight to behold on the back of the mighty charger.
"Yes, Master Helsinc," I said, glancing back over the battallion. I coughed, "There are quite a few people, it seems, that trust your judgement over that of the Emperor." We had been over this enough times as it was, and I didn't intend to get into this discussion again; my master had gathered these troops together against the permission of the Emperor, against the very will of our patron Sigmar, to fight against a force that no one had any proof even existed.
The old man dismounted from his horse and laughed, "You still don't believe me, do you child?" He looked out over the Wasteland, his magical eye scanning every square inch of terrain, "Even so, you will, child. You will believe me when his troops march over that far rise." He could clearly guess that even his years of experience fighting the hellspawn of chaos throughout the lands didn't have me convinced, and continued, "Just remember child - when the Emperor finally realizes I was right after our victory here today, he will recognize what we have done. You see, young child, if the forces of chaos are unchallenged here, they will surround the Emperor in his battle against the greenskins in the south..."
I nodded briefly, "I understand, Master Helsinc. It's just..." Coughing, I tugged on the fur that wrapped me, pulling them even tighter around myself. The old man looked at me with a face that was urging me to finish my comment. Slowly, I answered, "Master Helsinc, if you're wrong, we'll all be executed for heresy."
"If I'm wrong, boy?" the old man laughed at the thought. He clamped his hand on my shoulder, "If I'm wrong, child, then our Old World is doomed. If I'm wrong, and our enemy has chosen to appear elsewhere, there will be no stopping the hordes of chaos." He waved towards the horizon, "For you see..."
There was a sudden clatter of shields and armour as the front line reorganized. A group of three soldiers, only one bearing a rider, came shattering through the line, arrows piercing the flanks of the horses and the back of the solitary rider. I could see the look of shock on my master's face as he stopped midsentence and rushed back to his horse, charging it down from the rise and towards the rider. I chased after him, the sound of my footsteps breaking against the snowy fields. This was a dangerous sign.
I skidded to a halt, nearly sliding into the back of one of the soldiers who crowded around the young scout as he fell from the back of his horse. I pushed my way through the crowd to the side of my master, the place I belonged on the verge of a coming battle; glancing worriedly at the scout, I noticed for the first time how serious his wounds were.
A trio of arrows punctured the man's side, gathered around the site of a vital organ. Thin trickles of blood ran down from his forehead which was covered with shallow cuts. But these were nothing compared to the gaping slash across his chest; green puss oozed from the gouge, which ran the length of his stomach. Blood poured freely from the open wound, staining the edges of his clothing and armour. The edges of the wound seemed to burn red under the puss. It was a sickening sight; I turned quickly, pushing my way back out of the circle and tossed my weak breakfast into the scarce vegetation.
As I regained my composure, I saw my master's head appear in the middle of the crowd; apparently, he had learned all he believed he could from the man. The crowd began to break up as my master turned and took a few steps from the scout, "May Sigmar guide you safely into the afterlife, child..." Helsinc drew a single pistol and turned, firing a shot square into the chest of the dying man; there was a flash of light and a chilling howl as the demon's soul, imbued within both the pistol and the lead shots, fed upon the lifeforce of the young soldier and was satisified. A purplish haze floated away from the body, now reduced to a simmering pile of ash that was blown away in the early morning winds.
My jaw dropped in horror as I watched the ash fade into the wind, and Helsinc clamped his hand onto my shoulder, "That blade was from the sword of a demon of Chaos, a bloodletter of Khorne. There was nothing I could do for him, child, so I ended his misery." I looked at him, stammering to find words; I had never seen Master Helsinc simply kill like that, and especially never a human. He usually reserved the demon-bound pistols for his quarry; to use such a device for such a cause... He nodded as he saw my confusion, "Had I let the flesh carry on, he would've become another follower of the demon gods. I would rather kill a man any day than let him fall to that terrible fate." I could see the dark hatred in his eyes as he spoke of the demon gods, the four great gods of Chaos that resided in a realm that was forcing itself upon our own world.
Slowly, he released my shoulder and began shouting to the troops, "Our departed friend has told me that the armies of our enemy lie just beyond the ridge across the river. They'll be upon us before the sun rises a quarter of the way into the sky. Break out the ballista, and align them to fire directly across the bridge!" He remounted his horse, marching it down the lines of troops as they assembled, "Our enemy knows we are waiting for him, and I shall not dissappoint him! He shall meet the full force of our Imperial forces!" I turned my head back towards our camp where a shot of steam rose into the air and a quiet rumbling slowly began to permeate.
Helsinc let out a laugh, "We will show him that nothing, not even the dark gods themselves, can topple the Empire of Sigmar!" He thrust his fist into the air, and the troops followed suit, letting out a rallying cry. The rumbling continued, growing louder. My master, looking more youthful than he had in years, nodded and called out, "For the time of our enemy is running out! For no man, no matter what manner of foul creature possesses his body, has ever withstood the might of Enric Helsinc!" There was another massive rallying cry as the source of the rumbling came into view: a massive metal contraption of hissing, hot steam and rattling joints. It was a symbol of the might of the Empire: a steam tank.
Riding over to me, my master signalled me to mount my horse. He turned back to his soldiers once more, "My comrades! We fight for the Emperor and for our homelands! Know this – if we fail here, the entire Empire will feel the tragic reprecussions of our defeat. No man, nor woman, nor child will wake again after this day without knowing the results of our battle here! Warriors of the Emperor – we fight for our futures!" For a third time, a mighty roar came from the assembled troops, through far louder than the others.
I watched as Helsinc turned to me, "Lift that cursed sword of yours, child. It's time for you to prove that you're more than that whelp your parents left me with." He let out a hearty laugh and rode off to the head of the column. Helsinc was a far different man now from the introverted, crusty old Inquisitor I had been inducted into the service of seven months ago. A lot had happened since then, it was true. I wasn't even sure if I was the same person anymore. Drawing the heavy blade from my side, I followed after Master Helsinc.