The Van Tanncred Sword [Warhammer] Day of the Comet

Wellentag 17th Ulriczeit 2522

Talabheim is thrumming with talk of what happened this day. The clash of the great Temple of Sigmar with the True Church upstarts. The battle between the two orders, heretics and established faith. The battle that took place. 

I am unsure of what to make of what my eyes seen. Do I trust and what do I make of it all?

We made our way quickly to the Temple this morning to offer our services as protection. We were given clean white tabards and vestments to mark us as part of the main train, between the Templars and the common priests at the back. 

After following the traditional pilgrim trail we neared the end - the square in front of the temple itself. The high priest walked at the head of the ceremonial train and up to the lectern on the main steps. He was followed by the censor carriers who had been chanting prayers from the Book of Sigmar throughout the walk. The Templars formed a protective circle between the high priest and the rest of the audience, formality and practicality in one, a space left clear for those who would come forward for his blessings. The City Watch were stretched and observant on every street, supported by the mercenaries brought in for the celebration two days ago.

As the high priest began his speech a commotion of shouting began far at the back of the crowd. 

“Lies! Lies! LIES!” Screamed a single voice tearing the air that had quietened for the blessing. 

I was shocked to see it was one from the other crowds of monks who had thrown the first interruption. More voices began to lift from the lower priests surrounding him. With little else to do we joined in voicing our support for the high priest and the Temple of Sigmar. Urging the high priest to continue and the dissidents to be quiet. Stefan began encouraging a crowd of city commoners to turn on the nay sayers. The others followed suit.

Soon the True Church heretics revealed themselves, the speaker from last night and an incredibly tall priest in robes beside him, both hooded. “Sigmar walks among us!” his voice boomed.

The high priest abandoned his traditional blessings to take up the clarion call of the true way of Sigmar to speak to the people of town and city, all gathered, to listen to the words of truth not treason.  With the rousing of the crowd, and discord rising all around, the holy words were in danger of being drowned by the rabble. Commoners tongue and heretical denouncements. “Chaos I say! Heretic! Unnatural!” Stefan continued to appeal to the better sense of the people. All voices battled in the bright cold air until the hooded speaker of the True Church threw his hood back, “See! See Sigmar and know him!”

At that the tall hooded priest standing by his side dropped his hood to reveal the very embodiment of the spirit of Sigmar. He stood in breathing life for what every description, depiction and statue of Sigmar had ever shown - a head taller than anyone else, muscular and strong with burnished shining gold hair, wielding the hammer Ghal-Maraz, Skull-Splitter. A god among us.

The wind of favor stilled to change, we only had a moment to draw it our way again.

“He looks like he’s wearing makeup! He’s using hair dye! Liar! Liar!” Stefan took the pause to turn to the crowd. "That's just a boy!"

In the sudden break I heard Grunnd pause and exhale. He swore. “Actually looks like him.” I was unsure what was going to happen. My dwarven friend was after all a true follower, he was Sigmar’s hammer, his servant Grunnd. Did Grunnd believe the heretics? Would he turn?

Stefan continued to harangue the crowd as did the others, Danielle the best of them.  Just as my attention was drawn by a taunt from Danielle,  Grunnd stepped forward and laid down a challenge. 

“If you are truly Sigmar then you cannot die. Prove it! Sigmar does not bleed. If you be him you have nothing to fear from me for I am Sigmar’s true servant.”

Stefan lent his support in blessing Grunnd while the crowd quietened to gaze at the events unfolding before them. The head speaker of the heretics whispered something quickly into the tall Sigmar-man’s ear. The tall ones face turned sour and angry, he pushed his companion aside, charging forward to meet with his challenger. Grunnd charged forward too at the speed that always takes me by surprise for such a short fellow. His hammer swung round in a thunderous blow just as the tall one leapt to avoid the weapons path, catching him on the leg at the last moment. The Sigmar man’s hammer swung back in retort hitting Grunnd in punishment for his troubles. 

I noticed as the tall man came to a rest he was not putting all his weight on the leg Stormbreaker had caught in a blow that would have smashed a lesser being’s leg. “You’re dead!” Growled Grunnd, furious at his lack of effect and his wounds received.

The crowd stood in silence, utterly captivated by the spectacle. 

The black mustachioed dwarf grinned and gritted his teeth for the next assault, I prayed to whoever would hear my plea that my friend come out alive. In another flurry he shot forward and smacked a mighty blow clean into the man’s frame, a blow that should have pulped the man into so much ground meat. I could not believe what I was witnessing.

“How’s it feeling Sigmar?” Grunnd swung round to ready for the retaliation. “Not enough of a hindrance to defeat you.” came the reply. “We’ll see.” Grunnd grinned another evil determined smile. 

The tall blonde opponent readied and charged forward for another blow, I closed my eyes, not wishing to see the aftermath. A gasp whispered round the crowd. I opened my eyes to see Sigmar barreling forward to a shaky stop and Grunnd still alive. The wounds were taking their toll, the man had missed!

Danielle let out a fishwives' cackle “I thought Sigmar never misses!” A nervous laugh chittered round those that heard her.

This looked like it could be it. Both dwarve and human turned and faced one another, hammers ready for the final blows. Charging across the muddy cobbles of the square they connected with each other in the same breath. I stared, eyes wide in disbelief, I had to see what would happen. Tears stung and my throat swelled with emotion, my face flushing. 

Both skidded past one another from the crunch of the hammer blows. Both staggering and in obvious pain, both looked in a bad way. 

Just as they turned, time slowed as my heart did, everyone was still. Only breathing could be heard.

Sigmar groaned in pain. All heard the whisper. 

“Well done Master Dwarf, you have undone me.” 

The mans’ skin began to glow as though a torch had lit him from within. His bones and the details of his insides shone through showing up what is normally unseen. Then without a sound he disappeared in a bright blinding flash of light leaving only dust on the breeze and motes in our eyes.

We had won.

Grunnd stood alive and held Stormbreaker aloft in salutation and victory. 

“A true champion of Sigmar!” The high priest’s voice could be heard easily now as not a word was spoken by any. The heretics were shocked to see their god defeated and began to retreat backwards into the crowd as they recovered their senses. 

Time began to move in the usual way once more and life returned to all watching. “Seize them!” roared Grunnd pointing to the moving figures. “Templars seize them!” motioned the high priest. 

As events swung into motion we helped Grunnd to the temple. Danielle brought Stefan’s bag of healing unguents. Soon the high priest joined us. “We’ve certainly had a memorable celebration today.” He nodded his head in part disbelief and part gratitude.

Grunnd did not seem to hear. He was grim through pain and thoughts. He looked up “...there’s no blood.” He looked at his faithful weapon, smoothing the business end. “He didn’t bleed.” He looked back up at us, serious.

Stefan shook his head, “Demons don’t bleed my friend.” 

“Neither do illusions.”, added Danielle.

The high priest nodded “Don’t worry Master Dwarf, I’m sure he was aided by heretical magic.”

“If he really was Sigmar you would be dead.” replied the priest of Morr. Danielle again added her tuppance worth “And if he really were Sigmar he wouldn’t have missed.” She smiled encouragingly. “Twenty by his right hand and twenty by his left.”, Stefan quoted the old story. “You are a brave man Grunnd, but no priest.”

At that Grunnd shook his head and grinned despite his now obvious discomfort, “Aye, but can you just say it was.”

I laughed and so did the others, Grunnd was ok. 

“Ego! All I seem to do is bandage you!” Danielle shook her head in mock displeasure and  wagged a finger at him. Stefan slapped him heartily on the back at seeing the dwarves good humour return, then immediately recoiled in horror at his actions “Shit! You’re stitches!” 

Grunnd growled.

All was as it should be.

As it is the ‘false Sigmar’ stands defeated and the Day of the Comet is drawing to a close. Talabheim is noisy with the news of today. Word has come from the Temple that the Templars have arrested many of the heretical brethren found fleeing from the square. We are told their confessions have lead back to the well known Van Garret house who had been trying to garner more power in the city, especially with the elector count at war in the North. 

The last we heard from the Sigmarites high priest is that the finances of the Van Garret’s will be seized to rectify all damages caused to the families affected by recent events. Templars were sent to aid troops pledged by the Van Keslar household who were marching to seize all persons and property of the Van Garret house. 

The word on the street is that Van Keslar himself has killed Van Garret in the fray. Politics and power continues the traditional jostle.

As I said before I am unsure what to make of what happened. I am also unsure what we are to do now as the trail on the Van Tanncred Sword has gone cold. Our informant being dead and his letter burnt to a cinder. I only hope that as winter howls in from the North we find we are not too late. The Empire's existence depends on us.

How strange to think that just over a month ago the only thing dependant on me was menial tasks in my family home back in Marienburg. Nothing of world shattering import. 

I wonder if I may get some respite from my father's search for me until the spring? One thousand gold crownes is a king's ransom however so it is highly unlikely. I hope we pick up the trail of the sword soon lest I find myself imprisoned again in the gilded cage by the sea. The Eisenjaeger's young wayward daughter returned safe and sound to her families' bosom. 

What would Verstohlen make of that? What would be worse? A cold pistol or my step mother's caress?

We shall see.

Mäuschen

[Next entry - 2013!]

[Previous entry - True Church Heretics]

[First entry - Ranald's Luck]

The Van Tanncred Sword [Warhammer] True Church Heretics

Wellentag 17th Ulriczeit 2522

I am whole and well, though tired from our late night foray. We found ourselves deep beneath a warehouse in the docks for the meeting of the True Church of Sigmar's heretics. Behind a concealed entrance, and down a dank twisting narrow corridor, we entered a dark room with fire-filled braziers hanging from the ceiling and two sat on a raised platform. As my eyes adjusted to the flickering shadows and shapes it formed into a fairly large space with four strong pillars and two rows of pews for the heretical audience to sit upon. There were not too many people in attendance, a crowd of city-folk in the common-dress looking neither fervent nor frightened. They had come to hear what the ‘True Church’ had to say for themselves. An audience of forced participation. 

Hanging above the platform was the symbol of this order that we have found scrawled over doors and windows, down alleys and walls all through the city. The twin crossed hammers surmounted by the twin tailed comet. 

There were ‘brothers’ of the order in each of the corners and centers of the walls, another four on the platform as well, all armed and all with hoods drawn over their faces. The few torches held were doused, deepening the darkness. A door beneath the hammers and comet opened to reveal a man holding a great long handled warhammer, his head was unhooded. He walked forward and began to speak. 

We did listen to what he had to say for a while but it was not long before Grunnd had heard enough. He challenged their reasonings and ways, the thuggish tactics used on Talabheim’s people. He asked for proof that Sigmar had come again. 

The short end of last night’s tale is that none of the audience were killed and some of the priests were arrested when the witchhunters came to intervene. The main speaker managed to slip free into the night but we are sure we will meet him again today in the open daylight of the holy day. This ‘True Church’ of Sigmar are determined to make their stand today on the Day of the Comet. 


Let us see what this brings.

Mäuschen

[Next entry - Day of the Comet]

[Previous entry - Dreams and Portents]

[First entry - Ranald's Luck]

The Van Tanncred Sword [Warhammer] Dreams and Portents

Festag 16th Ulriczeit 2522

It is evening and we await the strike of the clock tower before leaving for the heretics meeting down by the wharf-side. Today has been a strange one of little progress as yet. Stefan surprised us with a visit this morn as we were finishing our first meal. He looked even paler than usual, with dark smudges beneath his tired heavy eyes. A dream had come to him in the night which had driven him into action. Images of heretics overrunning the Temple of Sigmar. This news reaffirmed Grunnd’s decision to seek guidance and assistance at the temple over what we had learned yesterday.

On arrival we found the temple busy in preparation for Talabheim’s great holy day tomorrow - the Day of the Comet. The day the comet struck this land is celebrated as the portent of Sigmar’s birth. People travel from miles around on pilgrimage. Though aware of the presence of heretics in the city the temple was only able to offer two witchhunters to assist in tonights meeting. They will not accompany us inside but wait in the shadows for our signal to help if need be. I only hope this information gathering exercise does not turn deadly. We need all our strength for the Day of the Comet if the heretics are indeed going to try overturn the Temple of Sigmar to their ways. 

I must go for now. Grunnd is readying to leave and so must I. May I be still be alive tomorrow to write the tale of what we find tonight.

Mäuschen

[Next entry - True Church Heretics]

[Previous entry - Sigmar Sees All]

[First entry - Ranald's Luck]

The Van Tanncred Sword [Warhammer] Blind Beggar Inn

Angestag 7th Ulriczeit 2522

It is freezing on deck where I sit now. My breath clouds white from my lips which nip from the icy air. The sky is clear overhead with the last stars fading from the newly rising dawn, of which only the brightest stand defiantly in her gaze. The blue lightens to the yellow of hot metal, though no heat is to be found here in Ulric’s month. We march ever forward to the day of least light that of the longest night, a little way off but not long. Frost coats the deck like a dusting of fine ground diamonds, a bitter beauty. Peace hangs like a mist.


Not many are moving on board, not any who do not need to be that is. I myself am sat with as many layers as I could don. A rough blanket is folded beneath me to keep from the chill. I have another over my legs. Against all common sense I am awake and writing on some of the fresh parchment I acquired in Altdorf’s markets. It is not my best script as these new gloves are stiff but it is better than blackened  shriveled fingers the sailers of Erengrad tell of. My ‘acquired’ hat protects my head.

I awoke to find the sky still starry like a dark embroidered gown and the false dawn showing the promise of things to come this morn. All in our quarters slept soundly in all their various fashions, dark mounds in a room warm from breath and bodies.

My mind was calm but perfectly awake. No reason. I just opened my eyes and felt no need to stay in the bunk. I wanted to come outside and watch the sun rise. A new day in my new life.

Now that the sun has risen I write. Writing soothes me. You are the friend I need never fear of loosing. I do not need to pretend to be anyone other than who I am whilst speaking to you. You are silent and patient. You do not judge my innermost thoughts and desires. You do not heap scorn on me for feeling or thinking the way I do. You are my mirror where I see what really is, the quiet room where I can listen to the echo of truth. 

It is two weeks since I woke in Marienburg last and so much has changed, such a long time in my mind. You already know the tale of there to here, but what of the events I have not spoken of? What happened in the Blind Beggar in Altdorf?

Grunnd’s suspicions were right. It was a night of little sleep and much disturbance. 


The first time I woke to a man being shown the short way down the stairs for having turned the handle on the ‘wrong door’. Grunnd does not hold back when he hits. When he came back to the room he replaced the chair below the door and dismissed the encounter. “We’ll know soon enough what is to come. That was only the beginning of tonights entertainment I think.”

He shook his head and asked me outright. “Tell me mouse. Who exactly is your father? More importantly, what lengths would he be willing to go to get you back? What are we facing here?”

The questions felt like a chiding, in fact I was almost embarrassed to admit I had not considered the full consequences of who I am and how it would affect how long I would be free for when I ran. I explained that my father is Johann Eisenjaeger. One of the wealthiest, most successful and consequently probably one of the most powerful Marienburgian merchants alive. Though the power struggles and posturing of merchants is a politically turbulent and wholly labile affair. At home, to me, he is just ‘father’. I admitted that I had assumed very naively that I would be free to make my way in the world and that the loss of one daughter would not be of much consequence. It seemed I was wrong. 

Grunnd agreed that it was rather short sighted of me but that we would deal with what came. He then asked me out of interest what the circumstances were that caused such a well placed young lady to run away in the first place? From a life with such promise as to be the daughter of a highly successful merchant? What was so wrong?

This brought back memories I would rather not have faced at that time of night. I decided to be brief and not delve into a history that would go dredging in the deep. 

“I am sorry. I am not trying to be awkward but I do not wish to discuss in full my reasoning tonight, another time perhaps, but here is the quick of the tale. My father wished me married to one of his close friend’s sons, an ally if you will. I could not dissuade him from this decision as I had done in the past. I lost my heart long ago to the seas of Manann and I will not be forced to settle for less than what I lost. On the day of our wedding my brother helped me make my escape. I did not arrive at the temple where my groom and future family waited. I took flight and stayed with some of Andreas’s friends before deciding to make my own way. You know the rest. I chose the wrong man to fish from.” 

Later after sleeping what felt like moments, I woke. I threw myself from where I slept into a bleary upright. My limbs trembled with the urge to run or fight while my eyes fought to remain open, trying to make sense of why I was standing. The sound of Grunnd’s voice told me this was it. I loaded my pistol hastily,  fumbling and turning to the door as I heard the sound of men outside in the hall. Within a heart beat Grunnd threw the chair through the window with no warning. The shattering glass shocked my tired nerves and my pistol went off, firing through the closed door. Then, the shriek of a man in pain. I’d shot someone through the door! A voice yelled “Get the girl!”. It was me they were here for.

It all happened in a blur of confusion after that. Grunnd ordered me away from the door. Moving toward the window and I caught the tip of a pistol edging round the jagged frame. I threw my back against the wall and began hastily reloading. If only I had a second pistol, a rapier, something. Grunnd gave our assailants the opportunity to rethink their course of action before the repercussions began. He gave me the choice. This was it. Did I want to end it all and go back to my father, or did I want to stay here? “What will it be little mouse? Predator or prey?” I chose the now, my freedom.

All but one of the hired men died in what ensued. The one Grunnd tackled down the stairs as he tried to flee, I am not so sure of. I believe he and Storm Breaker may have had some unpleasant words. I think Grunnd would have left him as a messenger to go back to Albrecht. 

Not wanting to have to deal with the Watch he bade us move quick. Stefan gave the dead their rites as we looted the bodies. I was quietly pleased to find myself that second pistol and a hat to add to my disguise. I was to go with Stefan and Hans as men together to the Temple of Sigmar, to await the morning before going to the Blue Bird. Grunnd took Danielle but not before I had given her one of my brother’s coats to make her disguise as me all the more convincing. 

No more excitement happened that night. We left the temple with the rising sun and arrived at the quayside to find Grunnd and Danielle were safe also. As they approached Grunnd smiled “That’s a fine hat mouse.” I nodded and smiled. No use for pleasantries, Stefan in is inimitable style handed me his bag and strode up the gangway to rouse the captain. 


I followed his course with my eyes. Watching his serious expression. His gate full of importance. The man who appeared was not who should have been there. It was Albrecht. My heart fluttered and ice ran under my skin. A trap! I drew my new hat over my eyes and whispered to either side of me who it was. I squinted sideways down the wharf but could not see any armed men. Grunnd rattled along the gangway after Stefan and demanded what was happening. I could not hear much but I imagine from what I know now Albrecht was asking if anyone had seen me as he had heard I was to be onboard. Grunnd yelled at me “You boy! Bring me my belongings.” Against every voice in my mind I made my way on to the boat at which Albrecht took his leave. With not so much as a look at me he handed me a note while passing with instructions to give it to ‘my master’. I made sure to keep my hat tilted but did not have a problem disguising my voice. My throat rasped tight as I spoke "Yes sir". 

You already know what the note said. Albrecht knows Anya Eisenjaeger is now in service to the Empire for thievery and is most probably on the Blue Bird to Talabheim. Other than that? Nothing. For we ourselves do not know what the future holds. Snow I suspect, or rain. Rain is one of the few certainties in this life. Considering the clear sky for now and the frost we may have a reprieve to catch our breath.

~ Mäuschen ~

[Previous entry - What It Takes]

[Next entry - Women's Talk]

[First entry - Ranald's Luck]

The Van Tanncred Sword [Warhammer] What It Takes

Konistag 6th Ulriczeit 2522

I needed to know where I stood. My new status as the Empire’s most hunted left me vulnerable to all. 

I went up on deck and found Grunnd taking some air, leaning against the side of the boat. The sun was not long for the day as it was already sliding into the trees. Darkness like spilt ink was already coloring the landscape, blotting out the details. I quickly scanned around to make sure we would not be overheard.

“On the water again, eh? I for one will not miss the cart.” I leaned on the rail to look down at  black water. Grunnd huffed a side smile in reply. 

“Grunnd...” I sighed, swallowed hard and took my chance. I needed to know. The rest followed fast.

“I will not go back. You are right. I made my decision back at the Inn and it is the path I choose now. I would not blame you if the 1000 crowns changed your feelings towards me.” I held my hand to stop any interruptions and and closed my eyes against any tears. Deep breath.

“You do not know me from Morr, Grunnd. You have shown me kindness but you are a mortal and I am now a very wealthy ‘commodity’.” Now I looked him full in the eye and through clenched teeth continued, “I would not blame anyone for being swayed by that. Not you, not Verstohlen, not them.” I jerked my head intimating the others. “But know this...” at this I pulled my blade out, lifting it to press it against my throat for only him to see my conviction. “I will not go down whole for I would rather die than go back. I am no longer an Eisenjaeger. I am not Anya. This is my choice.”

Grunnd had stood watching me silently, letting me speak. As quickly as I drew my dagger he gently but firmly put his hand over the blade and lowered it, shaking his head, expression grim.

"Never draw steel mouse, unless you intend to bloody the blade. Too many fools in this world too keen to get their blades out. Few are willing to deal with the consequences." 

His expression softened as he regarded me. "It’s not fair mouse. You being forced into this life but it’s not too bad a life. Aye, ours is a dangerous ...deadly path even, but we’re free are we not? You and I. I'd take freedom over a life of servitude any day. Why do you think a dwarf of the Grey Mountains plys his trade in death on the streets of the Empire and not in his homelands fighting the greenskins? Nah, we're not so different you and I mouse. We both have a home we'd rather not return to."

A gentle smile crossed his face with a thought. "A thousand crowns, eh? What would old Grunnd do with a thousand crowns I wonder?” Another laugh. He looked up at the sky and back again.

“I'd have a stinking hangover for a start! And we both know how i feel about them. I could buy a nice shiny new hammer? But what hammer is better than Storm Breaker? No mouse, you have nothing to fear from me on that part. A king’s ransom in gold means little to me as long as I have enough coin to get a room, eat a hot meal of an evening and payment for services I'm happy just being on the road doing steady honest...just work for an honest pay."

“The others I can’t speak for - the longshanks, he doesn’t strike me as the material type; the wench, she has a good heart; and the boy? Well him I’m undecided about. Of all of us he might have the most reason to turn you in, but again, I don’t know if he is quick enough to realize it." With that he reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. My eyes were watering a little with relief.

"Don’t worry mouse. I'll keep you safe as best I can and soon lass, maybe old Grunnd will need protecting, and I'd gladly have no other watching my back than you." He gave me a wink and looked back out across the water again.

That was all I needed to know and more. A hot tear rolled down my cheek and my heart leapt with happiness. Very quickly I lifted his tricorne and kissed his bare head with a whispered “Thank you.” before striding away back to the shared guest sleeping quarters. I didn’t look back to see his reaction. 

Danielle is already sleeping. Her face shows dark marks below her dark lashes, tired. She still wears the coat I gave to aid in her disguising as me. No wonder she sleeps after the night of interrupted rest and midnight happenings we’ve had. Not that I am not tired also. 

Stefan is reading his holy book by a dim candle stub. Hans too is asleep. He is laying full out with his legs crossed at the ankles and arms stretched back with his hands cradling his head. He looks as if there isn’t a care in the world. I wonder what a hunting boy dreams about? Chasing down prey and poachers I suppose. 

I think I will bed down too now. Before Grunnd retires for the day.

~ Mäuschen ~

[Previous entry - Precious Commodity]

[Next entry - Blind Beggar Inn]

[First entry - Ranald's Luck]