Captain's Log: 28th of Vorgeheim, 2513.
Going to gain an audience with Graf Boris himself. A proper audience this time. I swear to Sigmar, we all better get rewards for this like a new ship or something... I'm getting ahead of myself.
Rhea proved to be very self-congratulating. She was very adamant that her role in the rescue plot was more important than ours. She's just a kid though. Little things like that seem much bigger when you have such a small worldview. So we grinned and bore it all the way to the Law Lord Ehrlich's home. The door was locked tight with all manner of bolts and devices. Understandable in these uneasy times. We saw a slit in the door open and two eyes behold the child, sob openly with joy, and then he opened the door. It took him a few minutes to regain his composure and stop hugging Rhea. I would have preferred to question him sooner but I'm happy that he has his loved ones. Sigmar knows I miss mine.
He decreed that we shall confront his fellow Law Lord Hoflich, who he knew was at the palace. Werner claimed to have always known that Hoflich "looked like a little rat bastard". Before we could have a say in the matter, all manner of guard was summoned by his call. He has actual importance in Middenheim so we were relegated to being slightly behind him in our march towards the Graf's palace. The crowds slowed us down a fair bit. I shouted, along with our doctor atop of Werner's shoulders, for them to stand aside as Chaos needed to be smote. I think I went overboard with the theatricality and flamboyance but it got the job done. Ha, I think the midsummer knight and Seville barbarians are starting to rub off on me.
We were given an official seal of Middenheim to let people know of the importance of our mission. It was at this point that I became confused and asked Ehrlich what was happening exactly:
"Wait, what is going on?"
"Hoflich kidnapped my niece and employed those cultists to hold her ransom so that I would agree to vote for the new taxes."
"Sure... who's Hoflich again?"
"A fellow Law Lord in a plot against the Graf Boris."
"..."
"He can manipulate and persuade the other Law Lord to sway the vote towards instituting the new excise laws immediately and permanently."
"Eh?"
"The taxes will happen if he gets his way."
"Ah."
We marched into the Graf's palace, past the ladies, knights and other toffs present, and Ehrlich opened the door to the Graf's chamber. He froze in absolute terror, his mouth agape in wonder and shock. Harbull looked inside and was rendered speechless along with many others. I looked inside and saw the Graf Boris being strangled by the Graf Boris. Two of them, like his reflection jumped from a mirror and possessed massive self loathing! I was outraged at Graf Boris, our respected city leader, choking to death at the hands of, eh, also Graf Boris. Everyone stared and held their weapons carefully, knowing that one wrong strike could kill the proper Graf. I cracked my knuckles and rushed forward without a second thought. My fist connected cleanly with the impostor's chin and his neck snapped back like the crack of a whip. He was instantly slain. The true form emerged as something horrid: a man with no skin and pure, white eyes. That'll learn the bastard.
We were graciously thanked by all present. The Graf began to recover and we made our way to Hoflich's room. Dead, hidden inside a chest. Sigmar bless us, that thing must have killed and impersonated him. We found among its notes a web of the conspiracy. Pavarotti, Dieter and the hypnosis, Ar-Ulric and the letters, all of it. No, I mean it was literally drawn as a web. I guess even they had some sick sense of humour about it. Another note was an order to replicate the diagram and leave it by Hoflich's body. We asked around to see if anyone recognized the writing. It was the writing of the Law Lord Wasmeier himself! Our marine claimed that he always knew that Wasmeier was "a little rat bastard". His room had a strange bottled potion and an open window. The One declared that it was wizardly alchemy used to escape the palace. Finally, the Graf had fully recovered and requested our presence.
He wasn't too pleased about the whole situation. He did thank us but seemed more disgusted at the fact that random adventurers like ourselves knew more than his entire court. He tasked us with hunting down Wasmeier and bringing him to justice. Gladly we accepted this task. We were given the address of his town house. We couldn't receive extra soldiers as aid due to the crowds and not wishing to drum up hysteria in the streets. We thought we wouldn't need it.
It was a nice place. Two floors, a lovely garden, and a well made home. We were thinking of just setting it alight with a fireball and fleeing but we were worried that there might be innocents inside. After sneaking around the gardens for a bit and looking inside, Werner broke a window and opened the back door. I was half way through the window as he opened the door. He looked at me oddly, rightfully so, but I still hopped in regardless. Through the dining room lead us to the hallway and the way upstairs, near the northern kitchen. We realized that the cook, who had been working away before, suddenly was silent.
Our marine tried to parley with the man but got hot coals thrown at him instead. Not that it did anything, of course. Our marine has taken many a worse wound and fought on. The cook whistled for his hound, a large and bloodthirsty creature, and Werner was forced to contend with both a cleaver and the dog's ravenous teeth. I went up the stairs with Harbull. Werner was more than able to handle it. It's the small but vicious dogs I'd be more worried about. Upstairs, I opened the nearest door I could see. No Wasmeier but a lovely expensive mirror in the guest room. I heard someone running down the stairs and a whip crack behind me. The One was struck by a lean little son of a bitch servant with a lash! Harbull cut their weapon hand with the reliable fine blade and I, wanting to take the situation into my own hands, beat the hell out of this varlet of a valet. My punches winded the bastard to the point where he couldn't muster a strike, and The One's sorcery put him to sleep. Harbull dealt the finishing blow.
I could hear a door being slammed shut, a dog barking and scratching said door, chairs being pushed over, running and Werner cursing about Wasmeier. The One told us to give chase and that she would wait up in the study. She was too wounded to carry on fighting. Harbull rushed towards the garden and its stable. I could now hear blades clashing, a hawk screeching and flapping its wings, and horses heralding their stampeding gallop. A crashing sound came from the back of the stable. I ran out of the front door to see our doctor pursuing a large raised carriage, a reinforced machine of war the likes I have never seen before. Spikes on the wheels, rivets of studs, it resembled a black hull of a ship. This wheeled fortress was pulled by two fearsome creatures that I hesitate to call horses. We would not tire in following its wake of destruction through the city streets. Eventually, Harbull, Werner and I reached the south city gate.
It was a massacre. Many corpses littered this side of the bridge and the gate was nearly in a state of ruin. A survivor told us that Wasmeier's machine had exploded. Bastard filled it with gunpowder. We thought him dead but there he stood, in the middle of the bridge to Middenheim. Waiting. I drew my boarding axe and my charge was joined by Harbull and Werner. The man was a wizard. I remembered The One telling me this the moment he raised his arms and began to spoke. A high ranking wizard that had access to many secret words of power. Cracks emerged in the bridge and this streak of ruin was rapidly heading towards us. We couldn't stop there. The entire city could be devastated by such frightfully powerful magic. I barely made it to the other side of the crumbling bridge. Harbull stood joined me on my right.
"JOHANN!"
I turned to the gaping hole in the bridge and the valley below. Werner was gone. He had plummeted down onto the rocks below. I felt like screaming at fate and this foul servant of Chaos. Until I felt something grab my shoe. It was our marine, bleeding and weak but still having the strength to climb up the side of the broken bridge. Fate planned something greater for him. We were weary but still were three against one. Wasmeier knew this as he stared at us. I should have thrown my axe then but my rage desired his butchering, not a mercifully quick death. The wizard finally lowered his arms and turned. Before I could put my axe in his back, he flung himself into the darkness of the valley. Damn.
The rescue wasn't too difficult. Dwarf ingenuity mixed with an entire squad of wizards made getting three fellows to the other side of a broken bridge not much of a problem. The One made it out of Wasmeier's estate alive as it went up in flames. She claimed that it wasn't her doing. I believe her. Normally she'd be much more pleased about it.
Eh? Oh, of course. We have to go see the Graf. Wherever will I end up next?
- Johann Dasbuut.
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