Festag 8th Ulriczeit 2522
Breathe. Calm yourself.
Sweat beads then drenches my skin, a chill of nerves like ice. My heart is only now slowing. My breathing is ragged. The images from my dreams still hang in the air like shadows I wish to banish. I can smell their heavy musk, stink of sweat, animal breath, fresh and rotting blood. My stomach lurches but luckily I hold it down. I can hear them, see them as they steam in the frigid air. Great horns and muscles scarred with battle wounds. Terrifying weapons crusted from those who’ve fallen. Cloven feet churning the hard mud. Huge creatures that tower above me. Wild eyed.
Beastmen walk my nightmares. Even worse than my imaginings and the wives tales from my childhood. I never thought back then that I would see one in my life, never mind come face to face in battle and kill them.
The twilight battle of yesterday almost cost us dearly. At one point we thought the children of chaos had us routed but we chose to stand firm and won by the will of Sigmar.
I feel calmer now. Writing is an earthly task and brings my wits back to where they should be. The Blue Bird is chasing up the Talabec river and in a few days time we shall be in Talabheim itself.
I do not wish to get out of my bunk yet as my face is swollen painfully from my broken nose. Thankfully Stefan worked his priestly touch so I won’t look like a thug once the swelling goes down. I am sure I must be a pretty sight. The rest of me aches but I’ll mend.
Grunnd is at the other end of the cabin. I can see him past the other bunks and shadows in the candle light. He is quite the unwilling patient as Stefan tends to the wounds he cannot reach himself. I am sure whatever he is saying is not dwarven pleasantries. He is certainly not one to enjoy being mollycoddled. He’ll sleep soon once the administrations are done. They almost cost him his life, and if it were not for Grunnd we would all be dead.
I do not wish to go into the particulars. I am tired both in mind and body, though I am not sure I wish to sleep more considering where I might go.
Last night we drew-up along the banks of the Talabec to berth for the evening. While standing around the fire with the captain and the crew a man burst out of the forest gasping a story of beastmen, his wife, an inn and carnage. Chaos at work. We left the safety of the camp to the crew and dove headlong into the wilds with him.
The inn we found like a knackers yard. Dismembered and disemboweled corpses littered the floors. The back yard was filled with dead horses. No beastmen were to be found but the broken earth tracked their path into the forest.
When we caught up with them we killed those we found. So easy to write but nothing could be further from the truth. Behind them were cultists and a woman tied to an altar.
By the end the man had fled, never to be found. We untied the woman who turned out not to be the mans wife but was a fellow traveller from the inn. We have her here on the boat where we will reunite her with her uncle in Talabheim.
It sounds like we are stopping for the day. Maybe I shall go stretch my legs after all. I only hope our camp is not disturbed by more mad men or agents of chaos. May Sigmar hear my wishes. May Morr be kind to me as I sleep.
Mäuschen
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