(Johann's journal; Originally posted 23 Jul 2018)
We were holed up in the Crossed Pikes, the really, erm, let's say suspicious inn. The first idea we had was to lay low and pass enough time so that we could walk the streets without notice. Time was of the essence, however, so Wanda went to a temple to find out what she could about this Order of September (Harbull's note: Ordo Septenarius) and their wicked demonic dealings. Harbull, Werner and I decided to ask around for any information we could get about Franz Steinber- hager! Not berg. Damn. Harbull, make sure to write that down in a way so it looks like I got it right the first time. You've done it? Great.
We figured out the following: Where Steinhager lives (A yellow manse in the Adel Ring area), the pattern in which they retire for the night and who leaves, and that he has a younger brother named Heinrich who is envious and resentful of him. Asking further about this brother, we learned that he frequently goes to a nobility club called The Golden Trout. Only those with an invitation or sponsor could enter. A plan was quickly hatched: Go to Magistrate Richter for a sponsor, enter the club and tell Heinrich about the Chaos cult. He gives us hired help and we in turn end the cult and help him take his brother's power. A few extra swords and we could take out the bastards quickly. It all sounded too convenient, and I believe the Dark Gods heard us and planned to send woe.
We went to his office but he had returned home earlier. On the way there we saw a ragged fellow, more long white hair than man, screaming dramatic dooms in the street. I heard something about seven (a number associated with the cult) and we were instantly interested in asking him about it. He fled. Never a straight answer with these blasted sage types. I suppose they would lose their business and interest if they gave all the answers straight away? Regardless, we pursued him to the dockside houses. It is not an ideal place. Bare-knuckle fights by the River Bogen for wealth are everyday occurrences. The houses are desperate, dependent on one another for support, and made of rotting wood. I'm sure there are more street urchins than coins around here. One urchin guided us to the doom-sayer's home after I tossed him a gold crown. I wanted to give him more but other beggars might start a following and my charity can sadly only stretch so far. Good lad, strange, but we've met stranger.
The prophet's house, slanted and leaning on another, was quiet. I knocked with no response and then opened the door to a horrid sight: the man's throat had been brutally clawed out. Inspecting the room revealed to us two disturbing things: 1. There was no evidence of someone breaking in and he definitely didn't kill himself in a frenzy (no blood on the hands) and 2. He had a ring that was of the Teugen family symbol. They were rivals to the Steinhagers, so I suspected foul sorcery.
Magistrate Richter had fallen terribly ill with bulging eyes and horrible tongue, we learned as soon as we got there. Harbull did his best to help but we couldn't do anything about the illness. We met up with Wanda at the local temple of Verena and she told us of a Teugen family member who had grown ill with purple skin, a grotesque tongue and bulging eyes. I was shocked and puzzled. I think Steinhager's cult has been very busy with their curses. The plan was changed to simply sending a street urchin with a message to Heinrich so we could meet him at the club. A response was received and we had gained an audience. We questioned for a moment if he could be part of the Ordo Sep-, ten, -arius (Blessed Sigmar, he got it right!) but dismissed the thought as this was currently our best bet to tackle the cult.
At night, we were threatened by a street gang to stay out of their business. I have no idea if they were part of the cult or not. I'll just assume they are cultists for now (culty until proven innocent, if you will). The club was as fancy as you expect, full of nobles, wealthy merchants and other posh types lounging on fine chairs and chatting over delicacies. We were brought to a meeting room and lounge alone with Heinrich. The resemblance to his brother Franz was striking. We bluntly gave him the details of the Chaos cult and what we discovered. He looked shocked by the news but we could see a hungry glint in his eyes. His envy was true after all. A deal was struck: we cause an "accident" to kill his brother and he pays us handsomely. We discussed methods such as framing a brewery via alcohol poisoning, auto-erotic asphyxiation (that was Wanda, which still surprises me!) but ultimately decided just to smother the man and make it look like he died naturally.
We left the club, determined to complete the job, and the Moon of Chaos had visibly changed. It now had a face. With a wicked grin.
The Dark Gods are laughing.
Signed, with a flourish, Johann Dasbuut.
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