HEINRICH II

Heinrich was not by any means a cruel man. He had slain many a foe, both man and abomination, true, but that was done in the name of the Empire, and there could be no higher cause than that. He was no Grail Knight, but he believed that he did the work of Almighty Sigmar. All the same, the terror and fear that would be inspired in the natives by a mighty and holy griffon brought him some minor grim satisfaction.

He exited the tower, having watched the entire ploy play out from the beginning from a window on the second floor. He was fully armed and armored, just in case Klutzer's confidence in his own ability to intimidate was misplaced. Of course, it was not.

They had known for some days now that the locals were closing in on their location, for Heinrich himself had spotted them on the back of Victory. He remembered having thanked Sigmar profusely for having sent the great beast through the Veil with them. When he had stumbled dazed out of the tower into sunlight and bird calls, sunlight and bird calls, in the Drakwald?, they were greeted by Victory's relieved squawk, as the griffon sauntered over to him. Johann the mage had explained to them that they had indeed pierced the Veil, and that the world they inhabited now was not the one they had left behind. Naturally, Klutzer did not believe the word of a sorcerer, and thus planned his little ambush for the ignorant natives. If they were folk of the Empire, the sight of a witch hunter giving them the evil eye would make them soak their underclothes. However, these "Stark" folk had proven ignorant of the danger that a witch hunter posed to one's health.

Lucky lot they were, these people.

In more ways than that, too. One of the first things that they were struck by in this new world was just how, well, safe it was. This forest was not half as threatening as the Drakwald, was downright bright and cheery if a little cold.

When they were brought into the tower for an explanation, sat around a creaky old table in the library of the fourth floor, Heinrich took the time to assume his most imposing posture as he stood by the door, the sort he only assumed when he was on parade or if he was guarding the life of His Imperial Majesty himself. He could tell it worked, for the two younger boys constantly eyed him despite their attempts to appear like they weren't, no doubt impressed and intimidated by his elaborate armour. Neither appeared to be older than fourteen, with the one having dark hair and grey eyes, and the other (the one that Klutzer had threatened, Sigmar help the poor lad) with auburn hair and bright blue eyes like the witch hunter's, except on this boy they were more like a midday sky than the pale ice of Klutzer. If they had not been introduced by the older man as his sons, Heinrich would never have guessed that they were kin. If anything, the older boy, boy, he's barely younger than I am, seemed more likely to be brother to the auburn-haired boy. The older man, who asked to be referred to as Lord Stark, for supposedly he was master of these lands, though he owed fealty to a King. From that he gathered that these foreigner's political system was a primitive feudal one, much like that of Bretonnia.

For all his observations and presence he was silent, allowing Klutzer to do all the talking. And talk he did, for hours and hours until the sun rose high in the sky. Lord Stark requested to be allowed to send the older boy back to his main group, so they would not be missed sorely, but otherwise sat and beared through the "negotiations". Heinrich certainly had no great love for Klutzer, but by the Comet could the man interrogate. He dodged and needled, gaining valuable information about their circumstance, learning of Lord Stark's position, some of his history, that the two brothers were Robb Stark and Jon Snow (Snow being a name that bastards here received in place of their fathers names, apparently) while the older boy was named Rodrik Forrester. In return Stark knew only that Klutzer was named Klutzer, and that the formidable figure by the door was Heinrich. As they had prior agreed, (or rather had been informed would happen by the witch hunter) they would not reveal they had wizards in their party, in case these folk were given to slaying magic-users on sight.

Even now, Johann the Celestial Mage plied through his magical scrying in the sanctum upstairs and his observations of the heavens hoping to chart a path to the future, while Jakob the Jade Wizard waited outside in the forest, ready to lend a hand if the natives proved hostile. Heinrich thought it unlikely they could meet anyone who detested mages as much as a witch hunter, but kept his silence, as a Reiksguard often must.

Finally, Klutzer ceased his verbal onslaught and leaned back, pulling his pipe down from the leather band of his hat, and meticulously filling the handsomely carved piece with strong-smelling tobacco from a pouch secreted somewhere in his coat. Heinrich saw confusion cross the Stark's faces, and then surprise as Klutzer lit his pipe and took a long pull, lazily expelling smoke from his nostrils like a lounging dragon. Clearly these people had never seen tobacco before. Klutzer wouldn't be happy about that, whereas Klaus would likely be irate. Heinrich personally found it a dirty habit, preferring to keep his body untainted by such things. When he informed the Greatsword of that, the man had laughed and slapped him on the back, the dirty ruffian.

As if remembering his manners, Klutzer wordlessly offered the pipe to Lord Stark, who stared at it for a few seconds before giving a small wave of dismissal. Klutzer shrugged and simply took another, even longer pull, staring intently at Lord Stark all the while. Witch hunters were very good at menacing stares, it seemed. The two Stark boys shared a look, rather discomforted at the whole situation, and Heinrich did not blame them. He was certain that silence now hung in the room as heavily as the blue-tinted smoke that filled the air did.

Or at least it did until the Dwarf showed up.

Previously having kept himself busy in the small forge he had set up in the armory, now the big creature strode in, his hammer slung across his back and his face coated with grime and soot.

He boomed a greeting, speaking far more loud than Heinrich thought appropriate in such a small area. "Ah, so these are the manlings ye' been harassing, eh Klutzer? He brought his beardlings too, the Riki!" From the wince that appeared on the native's faces, he could tell they thought so as well.

Klutzer grimaced, and indicated towards Gorgi with a wave. "Ah, gentlemen, this character here is Gorgi Okrisson, Dwarfen smith, and warrior in service to High King of Keraz Ankor, Thorgrim Grudgebearer"

Gorgi cleared his throat. "Dwarfen Runemaster, I'll have ye' know. Of the Clan Morgrim."

Klutzer rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dwarfen Runemast…" His eyes widened, and a look of shock threatened to overcome his features, but he quickly schooled them back into a mask of casual disinterest.

As for Heinrich, he was glad his face was covered with a visor, because his mouth was hanging open and his eyes must be bulging from his head. A Runemaster? By the Hammer, the Comet, and the Fury of Sigmar…. A Runesmith. A Dwarfen bloody Runesmith. For the Dwarfs, the Runesmith was the closest thing to a magic-user, except even more so. It was they who forged the greatest weapons, weapons imbued with the titular runes that made them beyond mere killing tools into objects of legend. And a Runemaster, well that was the greatest of them. When a Runesmith became a Runemaster, they rarely left the confines of a Dwarfen hold ever again, except on missions of great importance.

No wonder he had been so tight-lipped about his mission here. They would need to have a talk with the Dwarf, by the gods. Now Gorgi was content to sit his sizable rear in a hopefully sturdy chair in the corner of the room, and watch the exchange from afar.

For his part, Lord Stark clearly noticed the reaction of his hosts, one dark eyebrow quirking in confusion, but he merely nodded and gave his cordial regards back to Gorgi. It also seemed he was more savvy than he looked, for he quickly took advantage of Klutzer's stumble to begin pressing him for questions.

"So, Ser...Klutzer? Might I ask what exactly it is that you are doing here, on Stark land, having built a new holdfast? And without knowing anything about this land, as though you were a foreigner, and yet you speak our language? You must excuse me, but that sounds rather suspicious."

Klutzer frowned at that, remaining stubbornly quiet a few seconds more, but finally relented. "Well, Lord Stark, I must admit that we are...lost, I suppose. Also, I am no knight, merely a Templar of His Most Holy Orders, charged with keeping the Empire...untainted. Heinrich Alweis there has the privilege of being a knight of the mighty Reiksguard, temporarily assigned to...assist me in a manner that his particular skills have great use. But rest assured Lord Stark, we wish you no harm. We are merely pious and humble servants of the Emperor."

"As you have said. But when we first met, you threatened my own son with death. I don't know very much about this 'Empire' you hail from, but here that is not the way to begin a relationship built on respect." Stark looked unconvinced, frowning right back, but his eyes softened just the slightest.

"However, I realize that you are ignorant of this land, and that you perhaps thought us to be bandits, so I shall forgive this slight. Know, however, that if you ever raise a blade against my family, by the Old Gods and the New again you shall not live to see the next day."

As if to lend credence to his threat, his two sons drew themselves up considerably in their chairs, blue and grey eyes glimmering with defiance

Heinrich had to bite back a laugh. If Klutzer determined it necessary, the witch hunter would absolutely massacre this foreigner's family without a second thought, and sleep soundly the next night, with false heathen gods of this land being able to do exactly nothing about it (After all, Sigmar was with Klutzer, just as he was with all of his righteous servants, and no god could stand against Him). Of course, that would only be if he determined their line to be tainted, in which case there would be no innocents among them, no men or women or children. Only the impure.

Tolerate not the impure to live.

But Klutzer did not make such a determination, and smiled indulgently at the Stark.

"Of course, we would not dream of such, my lord. I am pleased we could make an accord. Now then, I would be remiss as a host if I did not offer the usage of my...our humble abode for you to rest tonight, for I have no doubt that you are quite exhausted after your long trek."

Lord Stark looked towards his sons then once more, and turned back.

"No, I suspect that my sons wish to return to our home castle, Winterfell, as soon as possible, and I agree with them. Besides, my men will grow restless, not knowing how I fare. However I would say that you and any of your fellows will be welcome in Winterfell, so that we might...talk further regarding your 'situation'."

Situation indeed.

Klutzer nodded, and then drew himself up to leave, straightening his coat as he did. He opened the door for the Stark party, and waved them through, following behind. He leaned in to Heinrich.

"You and the Celestial Mage are coming with me to this 'Winterfell', go and fetch him. I'll inform Klaus and Golgi that they'll remain here, keep anyone from getting too curious. That Jade Wizard will stay, too. Under no circumstances will you reveal that he has magical ability. To them, he should merely be a well dressed scholar, until I say so."

"Yes, my lord. Right away"

Heinrich left his master then, hurrying up the stairs towards the inner sanctum. He passed through the empty passageway, the door remaining torn off the frame. Where once had stood the portal now stood only the cold stone edifice, the infernal device a twisted ruin beside it. No bright light poured forth from the opening, and the only light of the room came from the blown out windows and the torches lit on the walls. Johann stood nearby the portal, staring intently into a blue crystal that glowed with unearthly celestial energies. By him were scrolls and scrolls of charts, coated with stars and planets and graphs of their movements and bearings. He spoke without looking up.

"Sir Heinrich. What might I do for you?"

"Lord Klutzer wants us to move out, we're to accompany the natives back to their home castle. Your brother will remain. We leave now."

Johann rolled his eyes, but got moving anyway, pulling a leather satchel off of a hook. He then went about grabbing what scrolls he could, as well as a few spare under-robes to wear, stuffing them all messily in his pack. Heinrich's inner soldier screamed at the untidy nature of it all, and a grimace passed his face, but he said nothing.

After a few minutes the wizard turned back to him.

"I am ready. Let us embark on our adventure, then."

When they came outside, the main Stark group had already formed up all around, apparently having been led to the tower by the older boy, Rodrik. They all looked rather on edge, and were visibly relieved when they saw their liege emerge from the tower unharmed. Lord Stark's sons mounted up and assumed a position beside each other, now talking animatedly with one another, having finally escaped from the analytical eye of Klutzer, who lacking a horse was given a spare by the Stark's. He clambered atop the beast with a smooth flourish, taking the reins with practiced ease. As for Heinrich himself...

Lord Stark turned to him then, motioning to his men for another spare horse to be brought.

"Ser Heinrich, our offer of a horse extends to you as well."

Heinrich smiled at that, and removed his helm, revealing his mane of black hair and his tanned face.

"No need my lord, I have a mount already."

Heinrich turned towards the treeline and put his hand to his mouth, letting out a piercing whistle. For some moments, there was silence. Lord Stark look quizzical, and raised his eyebrow at Heinrich.

A screech cut the air, a hundred times more piercing than his whistle. All around horses reared and screamed, threatening to buck, as their riders brought them to a safe distance. A figure swept down from the clouds, a blur of fury and wrath given flesh. Rapidly the shape could be discerned, brown feathers with black and gold tint on wide wings that beat the air. Talons flashed, and two shining eagle-eyes in a head full of razor teeth came to regard the party with keen interest. More gentle than one might expect for such a big creature, Victory landed, tilting towards the new people, inquisitive clicks emerging from his golden beak. Quickly Heinrich pulled down Victory's head to him, stroking him below the ear the way he knew the griffon liked. He felt the beast calm, and finally grabbed the strap of the saddle, pulling himself upon the beast with a single motion, plate armor and all. It was something he had done a hundred times before. Now he looked towards the stunned and amazed foreign party. Lord Stark and his two boys joined the rest of the men in gaping at the mighty animal, some ducking their heads and murmuring prayers to whatever gods were listening. More than a few of the men had pissed themselves, he could tell even from here, dark spots appearing at the crotch of their breeches. Klutzer alone looked rather unfazed, perhaps faintly amused. Heinrich shot their group a winning grin, one usually reserved for adoring maidens and wide-eyed children at military parades.

"What's the matter, gentlemen? Never seen an Imperial griffon?"

No one laughed at the jest.