Charite`Berlin, a couple of days later

The Doktor who sat down besides Joakim Vos bed looked through the docs fixed to his clipboard. There were simply too many patients these days to keep things straight without reading things up again when you came to the patient.
Other doctors had been here before, looking after the diverse fractures Joakim sported. This doctor was not looking after the Landwehr Sergeant`s body-he was after the mind.
"You look much better these days now that they took out the external lever."
"Feels much better that way too Dr. Reich. From what I hear I still have enough metal inside me to make scanners go beep for quite a while. And when that ankle is back together for real nobody can tell me."

"That is not my expertise either. We both know why I am here, I think."
"Yes"
"Well, what about your nightmares then?"
"Slowly getting better, even now that I no longer get Adumbran."
"Good, that fits. How about the association test?"
"You mean the crying baby sounds I had to listen to? That was nasty, but no, I did not freeze, it just set up my teeth on edge."
"Yes, that jibes with the functional MRT. Whoever gave you Diphenhydramin after the OP in Altdorf knew what he was doing. Good news is-I think we can rule out PTSD, you display no symptoms. But what you certainly have is a good dose of survivor`s guilt and you are, in rather unmedical terms, simply clapped out.
It will simply take some time for you to realize that you are not bad or did not do your part as you are alive when others are not. From what I hear your superiors speak in glowing terms of you and like the rest of us you cannot control the fates that decide who lives and who dies up from a certain point. You cannot see that yet, but sooner or later you will wrap your head around it.

So, I could prescribe you several somethings to make you smile, but I think the best way to get you out of the funk is physical rehab-you were used to a lot of workouts and are missing on the endorphins from them. Now that the braces are away I can promise you that rehab will be stressful enough to bring that back. Now that you can move better, get out and enjoy yourself with some friends. Get plastered-and forget I said that. Just do not do it too often."
The Doctors visit left Joakim relived and depressed at the same time. Relived as PTBS had been a nagging worry-depressed as most of his friends were in Altdorf. He simply did not have very many friends in Germany-or even knew so very many people. But workout at the rehab gym seemed like a very good idea, so he heaved himself out of the bed, suppressed a groan from many small aches and got dressed. And if time allowed he wanted to do some shopping.

Peenemünde Nord, same time

The group of older men and women sat around a huge conference table which was littered with folders. The many empty small bottles of juice and the rumpled state of dress made it obvious that they had been in there for quite some time and that they wanted to come to a finish soon-and yet two groups were arguing and could not find common ground enough.
One of them went to a window leaned half out and started an illicit smoke. His position made sure that nobody would take him up for it.
"Ok folks, let`s get one thing settled-if one candidate can function under 9.5 G and the other under 9.6 makes no difference in their qualification and neither does an allergy against some grasses that only grow in some greenhouses any more. It simply does not matter and it comes down to this: Who has the right character for the job? We have three candidates, all are experienced pilots and have flown Combat Missions, so we know they keep cool under stress. Two have an impressive list of kills, showing anything from Greater Demons to Dragons. One has nothing of the kind as he flies an unarmed plane. But guess what-the problem he will face cannot be solved with pulling a trigger. He still flew the missions and that makes him my favorite. So?"
"So…let us say you accept Haessig for Systems Integration Engineer."
"Suppose I do?"
"Then we would agree."
"Done. Mrs. Mertens, please write a mail to Lieutenant Alpers and invite him to Astronaut training if he is still interested. And somebody get hold of Herrn Haessig and tells him he just got a whole different workload.

Frankonia Shop, Friedrichstr., Berlin, Evening of the same day

Manfred Schwarz saw the customer walk into his showroom. Younger than most of his customers, brown haired and of normal height he used a cane to support himself and pulled a leg who`s ankle was in some kind of cast. He was wearing uniform, one he did not recognize right away.
"Good evening Sir, how can I help you."
"Good evening. I am looking for a pistol as a backup gun."
"Personal protection or for hunting?"
"Personal-I am a member of the 1St Landwehr and recently learned that I could use such a thing. Any recommendations?"
"Oh, 1st Landwehr-I heard about your unit. Did you get winged in Altdorf?"
"Yes, and that showed me a backup gun might be a good idea."
"I could make it easy on myself and recommend the HK USP in 9mm-but I would guess that you have something different in mind, right?"
"When you have seen a rat the size of a boar and a spider the size of a rhino-yes, a little more omp wouldn`t go amiss."

"Understandable. If we leave the Spider aside-I have nothing that could tackle that you could describe as back-up-then I recommend something in 10mm Auto. That round is getting quite popular, especially with Soldiers these days."
"Sure that this is enough?"
"Let me show you this" The gunsmith pulled a picture file on his Siemens pad, then pushed it across to Joakim. The picture displayed a boar with an impressive part of its head missing. "A customer of mine used such a gun as his backup for hunting. Looks like it worked just fine to me. Don`t forget we have some nice deforming rounds these days. The deforming jacketed ones will feed reliably and dump most their energy into the target. I do not think that a bigger round will kill much more reliably, from here it is shot placement. And that brings me to my recommended gun."
"Aha, which is?"
"Heckler and Koch are making the P7 again. It is dead safe as long as you do not hold it in your hand-it is simply not cocked. But once you grip it and pull the strap in front of the handle back it is cocked and the trigger pull is the same as single action. And that IS going to help with shot placement. Also like all H&K guns they paid attention to recoil reduction-and for this series they insulated the trigger guard just fine, the old ones heated up there."
"How many rounds does it have?"
"7 or 13 if your hand is big enough-and I would say it is."
"Sounds interesting-any way I can shoot a few rounds?"
"Certainly, please follow me to the cellar. Did I already tell you about our discount for members of the armed forces?"
An hour later Joakim Vos hobbled from the store again, having set his account back by quite an amount but still happy. He was about to get his bearing when a red-haired women shouted at him from the side "Puppykiller"

Before Frankonia Shop, Friedrichstr., Berlin, Evening of the same day

The Landwehrman was totally surprised by the sudden announcement that made so little sense and that came quite literally from the left field. Turning to face the redhead he was assailed by further accusations. "You massacre the Beastmen in their Forest and drown the Skaven when they have done nothing-you are a murderer.."
Normally Joakim Vos would have shrugged this bullshit off or even gotten a laugh out of it. Yet the mention of the Skaven shoved the normally well-buried guilt to the surface and pictures of a tunnel with two bands of dust launched by an enormous explosion, an overturned crib and a carpet of bodies in a street occupied his mind more than the present.
Standing stock-still and pale his passivity goaded his accusers into more action.
Behind the worked-up a small group offered moral support "Go back to Boot Camp and learn to kill better murderer" and "Do you just kill Babies or do you eat them too?"

The latter was so ridiculous on the one side and rubbed Joakim so wrong on the other that he finally found his voice again. He did not shout-he did not need to. Being used to issue commands above din of the Battlefield he was able to raise his voice to a level that overcame the babble by the idiots in front of him easily without restoring to something as base as shouting.
"You morons have no idea what you are talking about. You have neither met Beastmen nor Skaven, nor have you seen the wasteland they produce but you talk as if you know it all. You are brave when you face no danger but you do not go where you would have to act on your beliefs. You accuse people whom you do not know of crimes they do not commit. Excuse me, but this has no use for me."

Stiffly he turned and used crutch, his good leg and a lot of determination to walk away from the idiots at a decent pace. The adrenaline and determination left him as quickly as they had come and he needed a place to sit down urgently. A convenient pub offered such an opportunity and some refreshment besides so he went into the small pub and sat down by his lonesome.
Having ordered a local beer and schnapps he had a bout of what happened to him occasionally-he felt very very much alone. It was not a good feeling and when combined with his doubts about his last mission it was potent enough to make breathing hard. He was in the middle of feeling sorry for himself when the tinkling of the doorbell announced the entry of another guest into the pub. Joakim did not even look up so when the slender figure stepped to his table he was surprised enough to say nothing immediately.
The redhead in front of him did not look at his face directly but below that and found it hard to start.

"I have come…come to apologize"
"What….sorry that went wrong. I do not understand."
"What I said to you was wrong and I am sorry. I just found that I insulted an injured man-that cannot be right. Whatever happened in Altdorf or the Great Forest-you were certainly not responsible for that and going at an injured man like I did is inexcusable, I am sorry."
"Ah, you might be wrong on the responsible part, but thanks for the apology anyway. And I can understand that the pictures and news coming from the Empire are disturbing, probably better than most. Will this not put you in the hot water with your friends?"
"No friends of mine, just people who gave me a place to sleep for a while. But they managed to scramble my head it seems."
"Looks like it. Fair enough, apology accepted."
"You said you were understanding things there better than most, why?"
"Pull a chair Lady and I will tell you if you are willing to listen to my ramblings. Joakim Vos, by the way, and you might be?"
"Sophie Wagenstein, may I?"

Frankfurt, next morning

The Villa had been a fine house when it was built during the 1870`s, when newly founded Germany was flush with money from the war against France. It may have suffered during WW2, but none of that could be seen. These seemed to be harder times-while nothing was dirty or untidy-quite the opposite was true-but the furniture was older and while the interior had a feminine touch there was only a 50-something man about.
He was lanky, showed lots of small movements and his refusal to meet Ibrahim Dürr`s eyes indicated he had was highly nervous about something. Together with his assistant, Silvia Meins, he had gotten the job of following up complaints about the doings in the house of the Schmalfelds.

"Herr Schmalfeld, we are not here because your neighbors have complained-this would be a matter for the local police force then as you should be aware from their previous visits. We are here because the magic detector we use gives a strong and consistent reading from your premises."
"I do not practice any magic here and I protest your intrusion into my privacy and my freedom of religion…"
"Herr Schmalfeld, you have invited us in here and of course you can also ask us to leave at any time. In that case I will be back with a warrant within the hour and then turn the house upside down. I think we should both spare us the indignities. No, I will not force you into any nonexistent camp for humans with magical abilities. But what would like is some information on your mother. Your neighbors have indeed complained about her-which confused us somewhat as she is dead."
"You cannot believe the things they say about Mother-she has never done such ….such atrocities. My brother was depressed and killed himself and…
"Chef, the magic indicator just gave a spike-big one. Something is going on that…"
"Can you pinpoint that Sandra?"
The impact shook the room they were in-and all minds as it was so unexpected. Something kicked the wooden boards that made up the living room floor hard and had already succeeded kicking some of them from their nails.
"Don`t bother, I think I know already."

Repeated blows that sounded like coming from a sledge hammer lifted more and more boards from the floor were pushed aside. The first thing to emerge was a pale translucent hand holding a roofing hammer attached to a withered arm. While it was slender and one could see tendons and bones as well as the boards behind the arms faintly through the limb it had more than enough power. Ibrahim Dürr pushed his assistant behind him and changed magazines on his P229.
When the head of an old crone with a face warped into a hateful visage emerged from the hole the screams "Get back Mother, get back" mingled with Dürr`s "run you fool run" while the rest of the Banshee made her way through the floor of the living room.
The Banshee looked around until she focused on her son who alternated between pleading her to return and shouted assurances that none of this was his doing. Turning her head at an angle that would have been impossible in life the pale apparition inhaled-and then she screamed.

Whatever she had been before and no matter how she got into this state but she was a creature mostly of magic now. When she screamed events she caused were not restricted to the physical realm. Glass broke, eardrums bleed and nothing could be heard but for the sound of the scream. But most of the scream was magical in nature and as such it circumvented eardrums and nerves to transmit sound and discern meaning from the sound wave-it went directly for the soul.
Like any noise loud enough it cancelled any thought, any feeling, anything but the scream itself-making the body forget what to do and the mind which body it belonged to. Peer Steinfeld was directly in the path of his Mothers hateful sound and whatever made him up left that very moment. His autopsy would give a simple "he died" as his body would be virtually flawless-and dead.

Silvia Meins was behind the big Commissar and on the opposite side of the scream, still she fainted right away. Inside Ibrahim Dürr`s head the sound waves and whatever other forces made up the scream and the waves crashed together and emptied all they found but for the nail-hard core of his personality. No matter how much hate and confusion was forced into him he refused to give up Ibrahim Dürr.
The trigger of his pistol needed to be pulled with less than 4 kilogram and the Commissar was a strong man. Still it felt as he were pulling on his service car and that no movement were forthcoming. When the shot finally broke it came as a relief as the impossibly loud shot in the closed room cancelled a part of the Banshee`s call, yet this was the only consequence of the shot besides a few flakes of plaster that were ejected from the impact crater. While the bullet had made a clear path right through the remains of Mrs. Schmalfeld chest no appreciable harm could be seen. The purely mundane projectile was simply not able to reach into the parts of reality where the Banshee resided.
Ibrahim saw the turning of his opponent´s ugly head like in slow motion, saw the hate in the monsters eyes and the intent for more murder. Pulling on the trigger again the pistol fired the first round that came with the changed magazine. Speeding at its target at 320 meters/second the bullet went into the Banshee`s open mouth and removed the vocal apparatus together with parts of the spine. The 3 shots the Commissar fired in rapid succession relived him greatly but the Banshee was already pushed into the realm where it had refused to move on its own.

The imperial Gold Order was comprised of those mages that would be called Alchemists in another world left behind by Germany. As the Alchemists of Old Earth`s past one of their main goals was transmuting lead into gold. Unlike Earth`s Alchemists the Gold Order sometimes succeeded, but very often did not. Usually the fails were imbued with the magical energies which left them useless for mundane purposes. When German engineers had contacted the Gold Order about the turbines that went into the new tanks they discovered the stash of this material and hashed out a use for them during a couple of beers. The resudial magic in the lead was enough to give projectiles made from it a presence in the warp besides its existance in the physical-and that meant it could reach out and touch someone who was on partitially "here"
By now munition from these "leftovers" were limited issue for anybody who might encounter targets that could only be reliably fought by magical weapons.
Lowering his gun Ibrahim checked his surroundings for more threats and while moving his assistant into the recovery position silently swore at the huge stack of paperwork he had just inherited.

Malekiths Tower, Naggarond, a few days later

Elric Starker was a Dark Elf with no important family connections, no huge household, no personal troops, no magic and no impressive magical weapons. He had never fought important battles or slain important enemies, his talent at subterfuge and intrigue was seen as low.
He did arrange the meetings in Malekith`s throne room as majordomo since 444 years and that made him a very powerful Druchi. Currently he was adjusting the straps of his brand-new sleeve holster that held his equally new Derringer.

"And that is a good weapon Herr Breitkop?"
"You should ask Wolfgang he is the undisputed expert on firearms here. But what I can tell you is that this is a weapon I made from stainless steel and that you have real drawn-brass ammo. You could sink this baby in the harbor for a day and it will still fire reliably. About what it will do to its target, Wolfgang, what do you say?"
"That ammo has about twice the energy-err power-that is needed to kill a Druchii or human for that matter. It will kill out to 5 meters easily. But you really have to practice with that thing a bit."
"I will do that, you promised some training, yes."
"Tomorrow afternoon if that is all right with you"

The third human in the room piped in "That he can only do if we are still alive tomorrow-how can you help with that?"
"Oh, you worry too much Claus, Son of Tolles. The great victories your General Böhler have pleased the King mightily and the technical innovations you present have caught his eye. You just have to expect questions about this "share company thing".
"What-how can this be a problem. They seem quite popular."
"Yes-they are. But several Nobles and Lords have lost a couple of fortunes with these shares while trading with each other and therefore strife has increased at a time when we could least afford it."
"Oh fuck."
"Yes. It will be most important that you show the High King that you did not intend to foster such dissent to increase the sales of these weapons."
"How do I do that for Go..Khaine`s sake?"
"I suggest that you…"

Throne Room, Malekiths Tower, Naggarond, a few hours later

"Your suggestion is wise Claus, Son of Tolles. If we put this "Stock Exchange" under the control of the Iron Fortress we can make sure that the rules are followed to the latter and my Nobles find less reason to kill each other. Some of this is a good thing but currently the level of feuds is exceeding its useful bounds. There are enough enemies to fight presently."
"I take it that I contact Elric Straker for details of the transaction Sire?"
"Yes, you may"
"Then this is settled. Which brings me to the next subject: Your services. I am well pleased by the Victories that you helped Lord Silverhawk to achieve. He signs your praises like I have not heard him for a long time. He also states that the Auxilia that you trained and equipped has performed beyond expectations.

Therefore I have decided the following:
You are expected to increase the size of your Auxilia to 2000 true Elves. The crown will reimburse the costs you have in this.
The Plain of Swords will be added to your domain to be governed in my name.
The ore from the Spike Mountain mine is yours-provided that you can indeed pump it out.
Wolfgang Böhler-I grant you a prize rarely given to humans-you will be granted a Ritual of Blood. This will ensure that we can rely on your services for a long time to come."
"Thank you your highness. I am not sure if I am worthy of this honor May I think on this?"
"No, you might not"

"Now I did not invite you here to make Elric Straker even richer or dish out rewards. There is another opportunity for you to shine. We keep sending reinforcements and supplies to the campaign in Ulthuan but too few arrive. It seems that Admiral Aisilin is a bit too good at intercepting our convoys and much too good at sinking our ships. As the German navy was able to enter my domain with ease-can you help here?"
"I am sure that we could improve your weapons and communications Sire if we were allowed to work with your shipwrights and Seamen Sir."
"Are you sure Thorsten Breitkopf"
"Yes Sire, I am"
"Then take this."
A hand that resembled a claw more than a limb of Druchii or humans thrust a parchment roll at Elrik Straker who brought it to the prostate engineer. It contained only a short sentence in the Druchii script. The majordomo`s voice was just loud enough that Thorsten Breitkopf could hear it.
"This says "Deny this human nothing" and bears the sigil of our King. Use it wisely Herr Breitkopf."
"I do not know what to say your majesty"
"Then don`t-be about your tasks then."

Rostok, Sea of Claws, roughly the same time

The strange tandem hulled craft emitted a grumbling noise while twin Propellers at its end accelerated it from the beach. It has an airplanes fuselage attached to twin deep but impossibly short wings that were connected by end plates. These end plated rose at the end to house both a vertical tail each as well as a pod with engines and a huge propeller each. There were no elevators and the wings did not sport any controls.
While the craft was gathering speed wakes between the wings could be seen to mount and the fuselage was lifted of the waters by hydroplanes attached to the end plates. When the fuselage and wings had cleared the water by roughly a meter and the speed had reached a little more than 100 kilometers per hour the craft rapidly rose to roughly 6 meters height were it stabilized. The craft accelerated smoothly to 350 kilometers and headed for open waters.

Inside the nicely appointed cabin an incongruous group was addressed by the elderly Dr. Jörg who had pioneered tandem wing WIG craft. Several Germans in business clothing were mixed with some leather-clad Norscans, gaudily clad Tileans and some imperial traders in their bulky robes.
"As you can hear we have now throttled the engines down to 50% as we have reached cruise speed and attitude. This is possible as we choose the new 500 hp Diesel engines from Audi for propulsion as they are still operating at good efficiency. Any turbine would now be producing mostly heat and eat fuel like there is no tomorrow. Actually this craft can transport 40 passengers and cargo at 350 kilometers per hour at 80 liters of Diesel per hour-unmatched fuel consumption per passenger.
The requirements for the crew are low compared to the requirements of normal flight crew as they only need to mind course and throttle setting. Most accidents that can befall ordinary planes are simply not applicable to a WIG and it can fly with two engines out. In the unlikely event of a total engine failure it is perfectly able to make a controlled water landing.
This craft has, compared to planes of similar power, superior range and payload as well as markedly reduced costs of ownership. Do you have any questions so far?"

Hetkunning Olaf Urnulfson lifted himself higher. "This is as high as this craft will go?"
"Yes Hetkunning"
"So what do you do when there is wind and the waves rise?"
"This craft hoovers on a cushion of air between the wings and the water. If the waves rise so does this craft. Still we recommend not flying when sea state exceeds 6 or 7."
"Fair enough. So this thing can fly me and my crew from Jotunheim to Lübeck and back in a day?"
"Yes Hetkunning"
"How about repairs-I do not think my smiths could work on this?"
"The leasing contract that we propose includes a comprehensive maintenance packagage that will allow for this."
"And you think you can teach me and my people how to fly this thing?"
"One moment please-Hans, please give your seat to the Hetkunning. Now Hetkunning it is your turn. Captain Hermann will just watch. Now-this is the throttle, please just move them between this setting and maximum. This is the rudder, you may change course with it-gently please."
When Olaf had settled himself in the Co-Pilots seat he was greeted by one of the most frightening and exhilarating views of his life. The sea that he knew so we rushed under him without touching his craft in any way at breakneck speed. He had flown in planes before, but the great attitude at which they travelled never gave the true feeling of their tremendous speed. Frozen for a second he overcame the rush of emotions with a cry that stopped any activity in the WIG for a few seconds.
A short while later the WIG made a couple of circles above the Sea of Claws and Dr. Jörg a couple of sales.

Transall Transport Plane, above the Sea of Claws, roughly same time

Paul Müller could have seen the antics of the WIG below his plane but he would not be interested in it at all. He was far too occupied with accepting that his life had irrevocably changed into a course where he had not the slightest inkling how it would turn out.
Ever since last Baekertag he knew that he was about to become a father.
He had been so flattened by this news that the dressing-down he received from his superiors mostly passed by him. He was aware of his surroundings again when von der Marwitz started talking about "Chances" and "Special Role". At first what was proposed seemed highly outlandish and not much had changed about his appraisal of the idea, but he had agreed to give it a try.
He had fought Spitzohren, Orcs and Chaos Warriors so far including two combat drops, but he was not sure if the next meeting with Sliv would not be more dangerous than all of the engagements before. Thinking of engagements made him hold his head in his hands…

Battle Barge Holmgang, a different Universe and for sure a different time

The table in the middle of the conference room had a plate of adamatium. This was not because of aesthetic reasons, it was just that the beings that used the Table sometimes had bouts of temperament and their strength made using a highly resistant tabletop with sturdy foundations a wise design decision.
Said beings came in two flavors presently: there were the members of the spacecraft's crew which were mostly normal humans with a various amount of aftermarket enhancements and prosthetics tacked on. Towering above them were the Space Wolves. Much bigger than any normal human, clad in bulky furs and partial armor, sporting fangs that seemed to rival a saber tooth and generally projecting a barbarous air that hid high intelligence.
The biggest of them had a sheaf of papers and a dataslate in front of him and shook his head repeatedly when he read through the summary.

"It looks like Father did not trust me totally, hardly surprising after the Heresy. He had a cache of Colossus combat robots hidden on the Ragnarök if something "untoward" were to happen. The Storm Bolters and Assault Cannon the Terminators used were not issued yet when this ship launched on is last mission and our genetics have moved during the last Millenia. Therefore the Robots did classify Squad Eric as "Enemy" till I could intercede. From their records it seems that roughly 105 years after our disembarkation they decided that we were not going to bring the prize to Terra and tried to do it on their own. As they cannot move this ship through the warp they took one of the Stormbird and accepted a century-if not millennia-long trip. Captain Ulfgar, you seem to have an idea where they went."

Above the conference table a holographic representation sprung up showing the surrounding star systems. "Based on the technical data we have on the Stormbird we can assume a range of roughly 5 light years before important technical system degrade to the point of making the craft incapable of controlled operations. Fortunately there are only three star systems in range. Unfortunately the most likely is the Hurikan system which has habitable planets and that had a Space Fleet base until M32.
All participants around the table drew in their breath, at least one proved why choosing an adamantium tabletop was a good idea when his fist collided with it with crushing force. Only one remained calm, as could be expected. Leman Rus looked questioningly at the Captain. "I take it that this is a bad thing-why"
"Because in M35.551 the Iron Warriors took this system and have made it into one of their main strongholds ever since. The planet is literally covered in fortifications and strong points and the orbits are full of Orbital Fortress. I have no doubt that if you find your way to the surface you would prevail-but getting there is not assured by any means."
"Well, I promised you the Wolftime, and here it is."

The silence following this announcement was so thick you could probably cut it. The assembled Space Wolves were psyching themselves up to a roaring approval when the communicator interrupted.
"Command here"
"This is Techmarine Hangulf-I found something that you have to see Primarch"
The picture that appeared in the holoprojector showed a machine of smooth curves, its white and gleaming chrome partially masked by a layer of dust. The angle at which the picture was taken seemed odd until one realized that the Techmarine was probably keeling before it.
"It is a marvel Patriarch it is….I have no words for it"
"What of it, it was surely useful when we needed spare parts and such but…" The Patriarch was stopped by the looks that everybody around the table gave him.

Astropathic message from Leman Rus, Battle Barge Holmgang to Manufactor Principalis, Mars
STC ALPHA-K-137-A RHO
Astropathic message from Manufactor Principalis to Leman Rus Battle, Barge Holmgang
EVEN YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO SPEAK HERESIES
Astropathic message from Leman Rus, Battle Barge Holmgang to Manufactor Principalis, Mars
WE DO NOT KNOW ABOUT HERESIES AGAINST THE OMNISIAH, WE ARE READING TYPE PLATE

Wiesbaden, next morning

Ibrahim Dürr maneuvered his unmarked police car through Wiesbaden while the "Deutschlandfunk" brought the news into his car. Ibrahim listened more closely as usual as the Parliaments Committee on Magical Affairs was presenting its latest findings. The head of the committee, one Sebastian Edathy, was said to be one of the up-and-coming members of the Social Democrats.
Getting into his booth at the parking lot he connected the car to the plug. Like a lot of the newer cars it was a plug-in hybrid with LNG engine as electricity and natural gas were two things Germany had nearly enough of.
Getting to his office he was headed of by Gregor Koch. Clad in jeans that which owned their faded colors not to a stone-wash, a T-shirt proclaiming "I am root, obey me, the somewhat unflattering combination of thinning hair and a pony tail and reeked of a missed shower. The red-rimmed eyes explained the latter part; the resident computer guru had probably worked for most of the night and slept a few hours in his chair.

"Morning Boss, I need some of your time as I think I have something interesting."
"I still have a ton of paperwork, how long can it wait"
"It is about that Jasla case, as she is officially presumed dead it can wait for a while I suppose."
"My office, 5 minutes"
Switching on his computer and grabbing two mugs of tea bridged the 5 minutes nicely-the Jasla case had taken an inordinate place in his head whether it belonged there or not. He was aware of it but did not even try to combat this tendency.
"So what exiting news do you have for me?"
"Well, do you remember you asked me to look for this Claus Tolles guy?"
"Yes, of course"
"Well, he was a member of a Telekom News group about Jasla. Looks like a group for perverts-besides discussing whether she should really be in Jail it is mostly pictures-99% of them false-and kinky stories about her."
"So"
"Well, remember the lawyer that started the damages lawsuit against her which made us haul Jasla to Papenburg?"
"Yes"
"Was also a member of that group-and also disappeared, roughly at the same time."
"Interesting"
"Yes. And even more interesting is that a lot of the members of these groups are no longer active in that group. I found some on the missing persons list, some not, but I have not matched every username against real identities."
"How did you do that-did the website company cooperate"
The funny look that he got was answer enough.

"Well, certainly good work, atta boy. Now you go home and take a shower and sleep. While you do it I talk to our tame judge and get us some warrants and then we look deeper into this. You job will be communication-if you are right, and my gut feeling says so, then these guys communicated. That should be interesting."
"Ok Boss."
"Again, good job."

River close to Naggarond, Naggaroth, 3 days later

The boat that made its way upriver was unremarkable-as unremarkable as a launch as might serve Hamburg Harbor by the dozens could be unremarkable in Naggaroth. The launch had been built from mostly wood in Naggaroth, the Germans had supplied a small diesel engine and the prop.
Sitting cross-legged on the roof of the small deckhouse was Wolfgang Böhler, clutching his Mauser rifle in both hands with white knuckles. He was staring straight ahead but it was obvious that his attention was at nothing in his field of view.
Nothing had changed about this picture since yesterday and it started to worry both crew and passengers. Deciding that enough was enough Claus Tolles approached his most able commander and resident sniper. Neither his approach nor his "Hello Wolfgang, we need to talk" got any perceptible reaction from the sitting figure.

"Wolfgang, I do not know if you hear me or not, but I really need to know what happened and if you are capable of carrying on with your duties. If you are not able now that is fine, but I need to know if you can snap out of it in the foreseeable future. If not I really have to look for a replacement."
None of this got any reaction. "Wolfgang? Earth to Wolfgang, please come in….oh Fuck, well maybe it will be better tonight." The Mercenary turned and was on the way to the Cabin when a very quiet voice that barely carried above the engines din stopped him.

"6 humans were slaughtered because of me Claus. Systematically tortured till they did not want to live any more, and then the essence of their life which wanted out of these bodies so badly was forced into me Claus. As uch as I wanted-I could not stop that-I was tied down all the time. All of that so I can live to 200 in good health. And I did not just get their lives-I got their memories and their hopes and fears-quite a lot of fears. It was hard to see which memories are mine and which are theirs-whatever theirs mean as they became part of me now. That is why I am holding this rifle so much-that is me Claus. Now their memories fade and I do not know whether I should try to hold on to them as this is the only thing left of them or let them go so I can be me again.
I will "snap out of this" as you so aptly put it, give it a few weeks. But I will never undergo this "Ritual of Blood" again, I will kill myself and whoever tries to make me so first"

"Nobody will try that Wolfgang, rest assured. Get yourself something to drink of you can`t eat, dehydrating will not help. I`ll bring you a bottle."
He got only silence in reply and when he made his way to the cabin already tried to work out how to get such a ritual for himself.