Captain's Log: 1st of Nachenheim, 2514.
We will let our good friend here risk damning himself with his explanation of this whole sorry affair soon. It is important to recall for whoever reads this the full details of this harrowing journey into the very den of the unliving menace. Yeah, the very sort that would grab a man and pull them into the darkness to tear them limb fro- oh for the love of Sigmar! Marine, our restless "audience" is trying to break down the barricade downstairs. It's not really the fear of them getting in, I don't think they're smart enough to effectively destroy it all together, as much as that bloody thumping sound. Really throws me off when I'm trying to remember... get another desk or something. If there isn't anything left, just slash off any arms that break through. Thanks marine.
We took turns staring at the haunted town during our stay in the Dolgan village. Two things were certain: they would change their patrols under the command of a smarter walking corpse and that there was a light from the tower. We knew that whoever lived there must be behind all these abominations, things repulsive to our good god Sigmar. Probably to Jim's ones too. Ingenious plans were discussed in the morning with those brave warriors of the tribe, the, erm, braves. Schemes involving using the mound of dirt as a way of entry, the things themselves being used to topple each other over with their own great weight, dangling Harbull over the city on a rope to draw the horrors away from us... okay, no, that last one was Werner's usual plan. Albeit this time it was a very creative spin.
It was eventually agreed that the braves would appear on the north western side of the town and make a great deal of sound and action to lure them away. Then, on the other side to the east, we could climb over with a ladder onto the ramparts and make our way quickly to the f̶o̶u̶l̶ ̶w̶i̶z̶a̶r̶d̶'̶s̶ ̶l̶a̶i̶r magician's abode. Alright, alright, I know that you have an explanation for all of this. I won't call you such things, for now. Harbull, strike that bit out and replace it with something less damning. Cheers. Upon our first step upon the ramparts we could hear the moans of the loathsome damned. The braves had done their part in the plan valiantly, with many drawn towards their cries in a shuffling, slow mob. Reminiscent of the mobs that would surround the taverns during the Middenheim festival. Ah, such warmth and enjoyment seems distant now...
Our marine, a mercenary captain well versed in effectively ambushing and crippling greater numbers, oversaw our sneaking with a cool head and keen eye. We kept our heads low, dashing and stooping behind broken roofs. You would claim those roofs were built by drunken goblins. Even the slightest weight would probably fall through at this point. Finally, we came across a stairway down to the ground level and, crucially, right next to the magician's tower. Of course, it was patrolled by those rotting things but our marine had no intention of letting this stop him. He leapt from about half way down the stairs, Death Dealer drawn, and sent the sentry's arm and innards flying. The blighted thing had not properly "died" yet and still flailed and brushed against our marine. I also attempted this heroic leap. I unfortunately tripped and the fall nearly broke my neck. The dark gods are laughing. Bastards. Fiendcutter did its work and Harbull finally finished it off. Jim struck down another upon joining us and drew our attention towards their increasing numbers. Shite.
No windows to easily get in the tower. Damn. The marine luckily found a way in to the guard house next to the tower right. He rushed inside and we could soon hear him cursing, a wail, and sounds like splattered fruit. Following him inside, we found a large pit surrounded by those damn things. Even more working within the pit below! The giant, imposing thing formed of water next to Werner was also a large problem. I kicked the ribs and various bits out of one of those rotting bastards and it went tumbling down the pit. Werner chucked the other in effortlessly. The water creature formed mouths in its living stream and spoke to us? I didn't imagine that, yeah? Good, good. It asked us what our intentions were. We asked it what the hell it was and why it was here. Summoned by the necromancer to serve him... well, at least this explained why fire doesn't work on this accursed town. I was flabbergasted by the whole situation and asked it, in very plain and furious terms, what was going on. It didn't know. What floor the necromancer was on? Didn't know. It soon grew bored of us and returned to its strange realm. Need to check the river for a face next time I set sail.
There was no way up to the tower from there and the entrance was the only way in or out. It was finally decided to get the hell out of there and run to the tower. We were successful in our stride but grim tragedy began to rear its ugly head. Werner had fallen over something and was now close to an unliving's claws! We ourselves were at the bottom of a staircase leading up to the tower's second floor. There was no real need for discussion, we had to save our crew member. Harbull stayed behind at the door. As a rear guard for us, I think. Good work, doctor. We got to him just in time, the horde was growing and not even our complete strength could fend off so many. Our doctor quickly returned to us and said that we should just keep running. I had no intention of disagreeing with him.
The second floor was full of undead soldiers of various ranks, rising from their beds upon our entry. We didn't want to share war stories and fled higher up the stairs. Next floor. Living quarters, in complete disarray. Checked a few drawers and all that we found was nothing special and... women's clothing? Was that witch the shaman mentioned a traitor all along? Shut up wizard, you'll get your time to speak! We shoved whatever we could in front of the door and carried onward. It's working well, as you can tell. Hopefully it will continue to do so. Final floor, a wizard's laboratory. Opened corpses on tables, strange writings and various vials containing unearthly alchemy. There was a trap door above with a ladder to reach it. It was there that we found this man, a dwarf in a gaudy robe with the accent and name of an elf. He was strangely friendly and calm for one who caused such sufferi- no, you cannot plead your case right now. Let me finish. The fact that we've let you live so long is astonishing. Back in the Empire you would pay greatly for your crimes...
FINE, I'll let you say your piece! I can't believe that you are the man we were sent to find. I don't know what you can tell us exactly about our quest...
I hope for your sake that it's a good explanation.
- Johann Dasbuut.
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