Martrim Fauch jumped in his seat, and turned his attention from the arcane writings, as the door bust open, sending wooden splinters flying across the office.

The young warlock quickly gathered his wits and began to chant an incantation, as a man dressed in black walked into the room.

The sight of the large black great coat, and the characteristic wide hat that the intruder wore, was for Matrim like staring into the eyes of death himself.

He found himself stopping his incantation to issue a prayer to what powers might listen. 

“Wretched filth…” 

That was the last Matrim heard, as the leather gloved fist of the intruder was firmly placed in his face, and the world turned as dark as the gods he worshipped. 

*

“Give me the name!”

Marcus frowned as he watched the heretic strapped up on the rack before him, with Brother Theodor standing at its head, with his hands on the handle of the roller.

“Absolve yourself, by giving up your master.” 

The prisoner remained silent, and Marcus slowly strode over the hay covered stone floor and towered over the secured subject. 

“You are tainted, both in body and mind and I am glad you did not give up quickly. As such taint as yours will take a lot of work to rid. And rest assured that I take pride in doing a thorough job in saving the souls of the wicked.” 

Marcus smiled softly, as he motioned for the young Sigmar cleric under his employ to turn the wheel.

The soft clatter as the chain tightened up, drowned in the wailing screams of Matrim as his body stretched. 

“Now shall we expose your taint for the gods to see?” 

Marcus turned to his tool bench and ran his fingers over the numerous tools he used in his trade. His fingers stopped over his fathers’ old skinning knife and a soft smile played over his lips. As he took up the knife, and started to cut open Matrim’s silk clothing, he thought back on when he had burned his own father at the stake for witchcraft. 

“Give me the name of the source Matrim, or I will have you scream for eternity.” Marcus hissed, as he removed the girdle Matrim wore to conceal his mutation. As the girdle came loose, it revealed a mouth that stretched all over the young magicians abdomen. A bloodthirsty mouth, with razor sharp teeth, that hissed and spurted out obscenities. 

A single glance over towards Theodor, produced yet another scream now from two mouths, as the priest pulled the roller another turn.

Marcus could see how sweat had begun to form on the priest’s forehead as he tended to the roller whilst chanting protective prayers to keep the foul powers at bay. 

There was a knock on the door, and a voice from outside followed.

“Marcus, the Burgomeister needs your council.” 

Marcus ran a hand over his face and sighed deeply, and walked over to open up the door.

As he passed the servant outside, he called over his shoulder. “Fetch Karl and have him continue my work.”

As he began to stride up the stone laid stairs, he could hear the soft clatter of the servant as he ran to fetch the junior Witchhunter. 

                                                                                                                                                                        *          

Night time was quickly approaching, and Marcus was tending to his evening meal in the great hall. The matter of the Burgomeister was as always tedious and time consuming, and Marcus almost longed to be back in the dungeons hunting the truth from the heretic’s lips.

 “What did the fat bastard want this time? See if his cats were the pawns of chaos did he?”

Karl made his way over to the table and, once he had wiped his hands dry with a finely embroidered handkerchief, pulled out a chair to take a seat.

“No this time he wanted me to burn his daughter’s personal teacher for cursing her. According to him, he had used witchcraft to cause her ill.” Marcus said with a soft laugh as he helped himself to some more wine.

“And?” 

“Well as long as she does not give birth to a mutant, I told him a midwife can give better advice then I can about her condition.” 

Karl laughed softly as he filled his plate with the food on the table. “Can’t blame the Burgomeister for lack of vigilance, but he sees chaos behind even corners that does not exist.” 

“If he wasn’t related to the Lector of Nuln, I would have burned him for his folly. But things are as they are.” Marcus said, before he sipped on his wine and arched an eyebrow as he focused on his junior colleague. “Did your labour carry fruit?” 

“I did not get the name no, whom ever is teaching these runaway magicians is still unclear. But I managed to get some information about a prize their master is after.” 

Marcus leaned back in his chair and tilted his head ever so slightly. “The girl?” 

Karl gave a nod as he chewed his food. “Yes, we got her name and a location.” 

Finally some good news, and Marcus gave a predatory smile as he rose from his seat.

“Prepare for departure. Tell Brother Theodor that we will be leaving at dawn.”

*

 Part II

“55 miles due north. What kind of name is Götterdorf anyhow?”

Marcus glanced over towards Karl, as he was leaning down from his horse to examine the road sign. A soft smile played over the Witch hunter’s lips as he knew what would come next.

“During the Great War, the forces of Chaos was about to run over the village. At the darkest hour when the villagers could literally see the corruption glowing in the eyes of the foul beasts. A twin tailed comet raced across the sky and a hundred wolves howled in the night as a group of templars rode to their rescue.”

Karl, unlike Marcus, was taken by surprise by the zealous tone of the young priest. “Yes but…”

“The most astounding fact is that it was not a unit of Templars, but one champion from each of the true gods we worship in these lands. After the war it was renamed to Village of the Gods.”

Theodor almost radiated his passion and faith, dressed in the orange robe of his order upon his white stallion.

“You need to get away from your books, and get laid Theo.” Karl said with a wide grin.

“Enough both of you, night are soon upon us and we need to stay sharp until we can find a place to rest.”

The mood of the trio turned sombre and grim at the prospect of having to sleep outdoors, in the cursed forest of shadow. Even the horses grew ever more uneasy, as they continued further into the forest.

*

“Blessed be Sigmar!” Theodor chimed as they all could see the light just up ahead.
As they slowly approached, a sturdy building took form in the darkness of the night, from which beams of light shone out between the closed window hatches.

“Karl, Theo tend to the horses and I’ll secure beds and food.” Marcus said as he dismounted his steed and threw a glance up at the sign just outside the entrance.

The soft grunts and curses about him getting out of the rain first from his companions brought a smile to Marcus’s lips as he strode over and pushed the oak door open.

The warmth came with a thick, musky smell of tobacco, sweat and mead. And it struck him like a hammer as he walked into the road tavern. Much to Marcus’s surprise was it not barren but instead a dozen or so sat gathered around the tables, talking and laughing over their tankards.

“Barkeep, three mead and meals of what ever today’s special is. And I need three beds for the night.” Marcus said as he strode over towards an empty table in the middle of the room.

Marcus pulled out a chair, placing his soaked hat on the table before him, and lowered himself down as he took in the atmosphere of the establishment.

“That’ll be five marks, and six copper sir.” The fat bearded barkeep said as he slammed three wooden tankards, filled to the brim with foam running down the sides on the table. “The food’ll be with you in a lil’while.”

“Tell me barkeep.” Marcus said as he brought forth his purse and sorted through his coins for payment. “Get many visitors do you?”

“Why you ask?”

“Could not help to notice, how barely anyone took interest in my arrival. Being a stranger at first, and secondly wearing the badge of my office.”

“Heh, worry not about that good sir. In these parts all the way from Altdorf, a man of your trade is like a visit of an angel. A paragon of virtue in these dark lands so to speak. Besides, out here you tend to your own matters.”

A slight nod, and Marcus placed the desired payment on the table and watched how the barkeep quickly whisked it up and ventured back behind the bar again. “Curious.” Marcus murmured as he raised his tankard to his lips.

When Theodor, dressed in his clerical robes followed Karl inside, Marcus noticed yet again how little notice the patrons took of the new faces.
Glancing around quickly, until he noticed his superior, Karl unfastened his cloak as he lead the priest over to the table.

“Warm, dry and mead on the table, what more can I wish for?” Marcus said as he pulled out a chair, placing the coat over its back, and then sat down to savour his mead.

“So, again lets go over what we know shall we?” Marcus looked between his two companions as they drank deeply from their tankards. “Karl?”

“Well all we know the girls name is Emanuelle, and she is supposed to live in Götterdorf.”

“Right then, once we reach this holy village, I want you Theo to contact what ever clergy there is. If the dark forces seek her, I wish to know why and I do not trust the warlocks, not even the college mages. Karl we need to know the lay of the lands, sewers, important people’s homes, and garrison of the city watch.”

“Making sure we do not end up with another Hochleben are you?”

“Karl, you know I do not like to hear about that farse!”

“Hochleben?” Theodor said as he looked between the Hunters.

“Before your time Theo, I had just signed up with…”

“Enough!” Marcus said as he slammed his fist on the surface of the table. “That is history and we have more important matters at hand.” He took a moment to scan the people in the room once again, and by the looks of it no one cared about his outburst.

*

Part III

A settling feeling of unease slowly crept into Marcus’s mind as he surveyed the patrons of the inn. “Tell me Karl, how many horses was in the stable?” he said with a lowered voice as he focused upon his companions once again.
“It was empty, just our horses in there now.” Karl said as he raised his tankard up to his lips and then greedily started to down his mead.

Marcus shook his head slightly and narrowed his eyes as he once again allowed his gaze to wander over the people in here.
Everyone seemed to mind their own affairs, small groups at various tables talking in hushed tones and doing normal things such as playing cards or sharing stories and jokes.
“No horses, I count not including us at least fifteen men in here.”

“Well Marcus you sound almost like the Burgomeister back home. Seeing corruption where...”
“Be silent Theo, I think Marcus is on to something.” Karl said as he lowered his tankard and carefully glanced around in the tavern.

“The Barkeep has only served us, since I came. Fifteen men and I have yet to see anyone raise their tankards and as far as I can see they all have one. No one has placed an order, or left their table.” Marcus said to clue in the young cleric, to what Karl had caught up on at this point.

“And the pile of money they play cards over at the table to the left has remained the same throughout all hands. No one ever wins.” Karl added
“And have you ever walked into a tavern without any reactions Theodor? A priest and two Witch Hunters draw attention, especially in these parts. And since when is a Barkeep pleased to have Witch Hunters in his Inn?”

Theodor blinked as he looked between the two. “Then we truly stumbled into a vipers nest.”

*

Vargas snarled as he felt the call of Morrslieb tucking at his soul even if the tree crowns hid her green face from view. He stood among the dark towering trees watching as light bled out into the darkness of the night from the house. His senses picked up movement on both sides as ‘Her’ other servants encircled their prey.

For years he had felt only pain, hate and suffering. The forest had been his domain where he had hunted and forced even the biggest beast lords on his knees in submission. The creatures of the forest had shivered in fear when he howled out his anger.
That had been his life until she came, until she had made him her personal guard.

A sense of pleasure rippled through his fur covered body as the mistress of the servants gently brushed her clawed fingers along his arm.
“We are under your command Vargas, will you let us feast?”
Her voice so sweet and alluring that if Vargas had not been under ‘Her’ influence he would have succumbed to this vixens every wish. However, having seen a goddess in flesh and earned the right to be at her side, this creature was like a worm he would crush under his clawed feet.
“She wants the elderly one alive. The others do with them as you please.” Vargas said as he brushed the vixen aside.


*

“I just realised, there is no dust on the floor beside our muddy footprints. This place is cleaner then the finest place in Altdorf.” Karl murmured as he looked over the floor, before meeting companion’s gazes once more.

A glance from Marcus, was all Theodor needed as he closed his eyes and murmured a soft prayer to Sigmar, as he opened his senses to the surroundings.
“Magic, very potent.”

Marcus felt it as soon as the words left the cleric’s lips that something was wrong in the room and now with the wrong pinpointed it raised the hairs on his neck. “I should have picked it up earlier.” He hissed.

In a swift action, Marcus rose from his seat and pulled one of his pistols from the belt. He could almost hear how both Theodor and Karl held their breath as they awaited any reaction.
None of the patrons even broke wind at the sight of a Witch hunter swinging a gun, only the barkeep reacted and looked over with a smile on his lips. “What can I get you sir?”

“Something rotten.” Marcus heard Theodor say as he saw his two companions rise and get ready for trouble. “Chaos in the works.” Whispered Karl.

Still without reaction of the scene playing out before their eyes, Marcus shook his head. “Suffer no mutant to live.” He said as he aimed his gun towards the barkeep.
“And burn the witch.” Karl said, quickly followed by Theodors. “For Sigmar!”

*

Part IV

The loud thunder crack tore through the stillness of the night and Vargas, much to his surprise, saw one of the vixens shudder and then fall. A tang of envy touched his soul as he saw her squirm on the ground. His sharp ears picked up the soft moaning that escaped her lips as she clawed at the wound in her stomach.

One of the other she-creatures rushed over to the fallen, and crouched down to let her reptilian tongue flare over the open wound and feeding on the blood.

“She said the spell would keep them unaware.” Vargas said to himself in a soft growl as he watched the vixens falter. Some began to crawl towards their fallen friend in hopes of feeding on her blood and grant even more pleasure then her current state, while the others started to back away.
Vargas could not help but to be impressed by the mere feat of detecting the ambush set in place, and the skill of the marksman wielding the gun.
Well there were no turning back, she demanded the elderly one captured for her personal pleasure. With the element of surprise lost, Vargas raised his head towards the sky and howled.

*

The shot tore straight through the barkeep and the trio watched in amazement as the world around them rippled and shifted. As the illusion fell they could all see the horror that had taken place within the tavern. The walls were covered in blood and entrails of dead mutants spilled over the floor.

“Sigmar protect.” Theodor said as he saw how the blood on the walls formed patterns that stung his eyes and tore at his sanity.

Oblivious to the carnage around him, Karl dared himself to look at the tankard he so greedily had drank from moments earlier. His tankard nearly empty, but the two beside his still contained a thick red liquid. “What foul...” was all he managed before his belly turned and he threw up his stomachs contents.

“Witch craft but to what purpose?” Marcus said as he began to reload his pistol. “Be alert for trickery like this must have a reason.”

Not even a heartbeat passed before a terrifying howl echoed from the outside. Following the howl that world outside the walls seemed to come alive. The door and windows burst open mere seconds apart and threw them rushed the heralds of Chaos.

Theodor turned his attention from the captivating symbols on the wall to rest his eyes upon the most stunning creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. With the elegance of an elf, the woman seemed to glide over towards him with her arms stretched out in an inviting embrace.
Without her lips moving, the young priest heard as she moaned out her desires for him, promising eternal pleasures of the flesh.

Bracing himself against the table, Karl wiped his mouth as he saw the elfish creatures makes their way inside, some through the entrance while others climbed in through the windows.
He swallowed deeply as looked at their naked wanting bodies and heard their sensual voices urge him to tend to their lusts. Deep down inside Karl knew it was wrong but his legs did not obey him as he took one trembling step towards them.
His knuckles turning white as his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.
“Sigmar help me.”

“Come to us Marcus.”
“Oh Marcus take me.”

The pleading voices from the vixens filled Marcus’s mind as he saw Chaos in the flesh. Something deep down inside him urged him to give in and allow them to tend to his aging body.
“How long has it not been Marcus, since you felt the caress of a woman.”
The pistol, now reloaded, trembled in his hand as he licked his lips.
Ten years.


*

Shar’Laa smiled softly as she approached grey haired man in the centre. Her faith in the plan had faltered as Vri’Laa had fallen by a bullet but now once inside with the humans under their spell things went easier then planned.
“Oh Marcus.” She moaned as she came within killing distance. Shar’Laa licked her lips at the sheer prospect of feasting on the Witch Hunters soul. Her purple eyes meet looked into his dark blue and she faltered in her step as the smile on his lips were not one of joy but one of cruelty.
Suddenly there was a bright light followed by a burning sensation. As she opened her eyes once again Slaanesh stood before her to take back what was rightfully his.

*
Marcus squeezed off a shoot point blank at the closest vixen as he reached for his second gun.
“Fight them. Do not give in to Chaos!” Marcus hoped his voice would break the spell for his companions as he dropped his first pistol.

As the first vixen fell in a shower of blood as her face exploded the others screamed out in rage. Marcus saw in the corner of his eyes how Theodor swung his warhammer and smashed in the side of his assailant, as he began to chant a prayer of refuge.

A second vixen jumped at Marcus and he barely managed to duck in under her claws as she reached for his face. As he pivoted on the spot he pressed the barrel of his second pistol against her back and squeezed the trigger. Without seeing the full effect of the blessed silver bullet, he shifted his hand to hold the barrel and use it as a club as he hacked wildly to fend off a third attacker.

*