No Good From Evil

That poor fool....he believes in his heart that there's good to be had from Mordheim. That the power of the wyrdstone shards will cure disease, create wealth, serve the Empire....That they can benefit mankind.

He is but new to this accursed city. He does not know. Sigmar have pity, I'm sure the fool will learn.

Our first meeting was at the old Executioner's Square. The gibbet creaked and its rope swayed, but there was other movement. We saw his band first, the gaily colored silks of Marienburg stark amidst the ruin. I called the halt and hailed the other men.

"Well met in an ill place," I said. They pointed towards us and glanced about nervously. They seemed ill at ease. They seemed guilty. I shouted again, "What is your business here amongst the dying and the damned? Are you loyal sons of the Empire and of Sigmar?"

"We are that," came the reply. "As well as men of science from the academy in Nuln. Are you witch hu--" he stopped himself. "I mean to say, are you of the Order of the Templars of Sigmar?"

Witch Hunter. I've always hated the name. It sounds as if we're meant to harrass old ladies for cooking stew and keeping cats. It sounds as if we didn't fight demons. I told the man aye though, and asked again after his business.

"We are here," he said, "To research processes both chemical and biological. Specifically, the properties of wyrdstone and its affect on living tissue. The experiments are barely begun, but I must say, the initial results are tremendously exciting."

At my side, our warrior priest Grim Morton spat upon the ground. The hounds began to growl.

"Do you now," I said, "Have in your possession shards of wyrdstone?"

"Oh my yes. We've come across rather a lot of it today. This batch alone should make for a solid week's worth of study."

I closed my eyes then, and whispered a quick prayer to Sigmar. I kissed the icon about my neck, raised my voice, and said, "Then I order you in the name of his holiness Grand Theogonist Magnus the Pious to hand over to us, his representatives here, whatever amount of wyrdstone you have. Should you refuse, you place not only your souls but your physical well being at risk. We are empowered to take it from you by force."

There was a moment of stunned silence from the Marienburgers. Then we heard the cranking of crossbows. Then the fighting began.

*****

It was a victory for no one. That men should fight against men when so much horror thrives beneath our very feet.... Doubtless the dark things of Mordheim are laughing at our folly. I chose to call the retreat first, with our fighting hounds suffering terrible losses. They are hard to replace in the camps about Mordheim, and their injury is not worth the risk. We at least managed to wrest away one of the Marienburgers' shards, but who can say how much more they carried away? Who can tell how dearly they sell their souls?

Their leader says he's come for science and for learning. But I speak to Sigmar and I hear his voice, and I know that Marienburg is misguided. He's not yet seen the lurking hulks in the ruins. He's not faced the walking dead in battle, or breathed the stink of their flesh. I will show him the error of his ways. I take it upon myself to teach him.

--From the journals of Augustus the Stern, Imperial Year of the Comet 1999