This is the diary of Luthar the Magnificent, Wizard and Adventurer. In this I have recorded my comrades and my adventures as I saw them, in as much detail as I can remember - they weren’t written whilst I was in the dungeons, but when I had time at a later date. Also note that the dates are not precisely listed, so I hope that you can follow. I will now list my comrades, and their occupations.
Luthar the Magnificant - That is I, a Wizard
Argon Darkstryde - Knight of the Empire
Molotovo - Once an Elf War dancer, now a Judicial Champion
Nikolus Kvorchek - Necromancer
Kirigi - Outlaw Chief, NPC and friend
Kairn - Thief and bodyguard
We are in state of war, not me personally, but my country. We fight a foreign foe known as the Albans, but, as is often the case, it is all misunderstanding.
An Imperial emissary was sent to the Alban lands to forge a strong alliance, but our Emperor’s brother, the evil Prince Helgard stole an item most precious to the Albans, the Ice Gem. They sent an Ultimatum to the Imperial emissary, who could do nothing except plead their innocence for they knew nothing of the stolen jewel.. They were slaughtered for their crime and war was declared on the Empire.
It was in the middle of all this that my tale begins, shortly after the deaths of the Imperial emissary, but before the outbreak of war.
A man, obviously a foreigner by his strange garb approached us introduced himself as a Talvolen Taulauf Assassins, in the service of the country of Alban.. His name is Aldric. He tells us of the crisis that threatens the destruction of the two mighty empires, and seeks our aid to resolve it. He knows of Prince Helgard’s treachery and also that he is Sorcerer of Chaos, and must be stopped. Sensing his plight, we decide to aid him.
We sneak into the Imperial palace, and after much searching, find ourselves in the deep, damp and dark cellars. Water drips slowly in the endless darkness as we make our way steadily onwards. Suddenly, we find ourselves in a strange chamber with a large octogram scrawled on the floor. Before we can react, an enormous fiend of Chaos erupts from the centre of the octogram and with it’s tentacles flailing and strange liquids oozing from it’s every orifice it starts towards us. Aldric draws his immense sword which immediately starts to hum through the air as he charges the ‘thing’. As our brave companion makes contact with it, a fierce explosion tears through the room and suddenly they are gone. Sarcastic applause makes us turn around to see the imposing figure of Prince Helgard before us. He is undoubtedly a Mage of extreme power as his very essence crackles with pure magic.. Without so much as a word of warning, he teleports into a field in the middle of nowhere. No habitats can be seen in any direct
in, and I begin to fear he has sent us to another dimension. Even with this new fear, we set off for the nearest road.
* * * * * *
24 Nachexan
Having travelled on the road for about three hours we found our-selves at a small travellers Inn. Upon inquiries we find that we are but two days walk from Middenheim.
After resting and eating a hearty meal we set off in early evening, despite my advice to wait till the morn.
As we left the Inn far behind, and headed towards the monstrous city, the ‘brave’ and ‘fearless’ Kirigi uttered a statement that will forever be embedded upon my memory, "Looks like rain!" No sooner had he spoken the fateful words than the heavens opened and a torrent of unrivalled proportions drenched us within seconds. With water flowing from by wide brimmed hat, it was decided to take shelter in the woods as it would be too long a journey to return to the Inn. We found shelter in an enormous hollow tree trunk where we intended to stay until the rain ceased, we set a blazing fire in the entrance and attempted to dry our clothes.
During the night, the rain never ceased but we were visited by a number of Wights. Much of their talking was mere gibberish and hard to understand but this is what I was able to understand: They revealed to us that they were once knights of the Empire, but having accidentally learnt of how to create the Ice Gem were killed by Alban Assassins. I then swore to help release them from their prison of death with one year and ten days.
No sooner had the Undead spawn departed in the mist than a Trolloc leapt from the trees to attack us. Tall and humanlike, but with a Raven’s head it snarled and twisted its blade as it moved towards us, only to be cut quickly down by Kairn the thief. Suddenly a horn sounded through the rain and trees, the sound of a hunt, and, with the certainty of a man whose life depends on it realised that it was we who were the hunted.
We ran splashing through the rain, forever haunted by the shrill horn screaming for our blood, until be came upon a clearing. A temple loomed in front of us, and driven by the horn, we sought shelter within. The interior of the building was damp and gaping holes let in the incessant rain, but it was certainly safer than outside, in the pouring raining with monsters looking for us. As we slept the sleep of the fearful we were set upon by a screaming mass of men. The easily overpowered us and threw us unceremoniously into a cellar. After a short time two men came into the cellar. One of them was quite obviously a Necromancer, the other a Vampire, who introduced himself as LeStadt. He expained that he was to turn us into Zombies and proceeded to remove the collar from Kairn’s shirt. Suddenly an explosion of unrivalled proportions tears through the Temple and a group of Talvolen Albans burst into the cell; my companion Aldric is with them. He formally introduces the Necromancer and LeStadt to "Widow-maker", Aldric’s sword before removed both their heads with one blow. He greets us but, this was no time for a heart-felt reunion as the building was burning down around us. As we fled the building I darted into the small well-stocked library to see what books of magical merit could be retrieved, as it turned out only a Lesser Grimoire of Necromancy, which I would use to understand the dark art, and also a bartering tool.
Outside the temple, the rain had lessened to a depressing drizzle and we warmed ourselves against the heat of the burning Temple.
We then said farewell to our Alban companion and set off once again for Middenheim. Only now did Kairn reveal one word which he had heard during our meeting with the Wights, "Valair". This word is certainly not Imperial word, and none of our party has heard of it. I therefore decide to seek a Scholar for a translation.
1 Yardrung
A great city towers ahead of us, not more than two miles in fact, and I feel is if a great weight has lifted from my shoulders. We had arrived!
When we arrived in Middenheim, we booked ourselves into an Inn and deposited our belongings with it. Kairn and I then began to seek out a scholar and I released Kirigi to do as he wished for a while.
After a short time we located the great University and sought out a Scholar. The scholar, though possibly a complete Schizophrenic told us that he would have its meaning within one week, we then left him to his studies.
Upon our return to the Scholar, he explained that Valair means Resurrection, and that it is also associated with the legendary Horn of Valair. The legend says that if the horn is blown only by those of a pure heart then the Ancient Warriors of legend will rise again and follow the horn’s blower, but it is only a legend……
He has set up a meeting with a Wizard who will be able to give us more information.
Upon meeting the Wizard, I find him to be my eccentric mentor Balthazar. Balthazar declares, to my amazement, that not only does the horn exist, but he reveals it’s exact location. After this he drops the bombshell: LeStadt did not die in the temple, but is alive, and very angry.
On that day, the Mayor of Middenheim called the "Hunt of the Horn", and Kirigi, Kairn and I become official hunters for the horn not only to retrieve the horn, but also because there is a 1000 gold coin reward.
To aid us in the Horn’s capture, we employ a Witch Hunter named Graham Francis. He also brings with him a large party of Mercenaries and Warriors to aid us.
When ready, we departed for the Border Princes, and our ranks have swelled, even an Elven Wardancer has joined us, and the more the merrier.
9 Pflugzeit.
We have arrived in the Border Princes and are preparing our attack.
N.B. From a speech made by myself to our party upon arrival in the Border Princes.
10 Pflugzeit
We have lodged ourselves in the only tavern in the small town, the "Wandering Willy", and already the famous Gotrek has drunk himself into a stupor. A War-Council was called in the common room and, much to my disgust, the Elf Wardancer Molotovo has been placed above me. The only reason for this, that I can think of, is his weapon skill, if it is his intelligence I will laugh.
A small party of us: Molotovo the Elf, Argon Darkstryde the Mercenary, Nikolus Kvorchek the Necromancer, Kairn the Thief and myself the mage, will scout out the castle before we raid it. A Physician Zion Helschmitt is to accompany us.
To gain entrance into the Castle, we plan to pretend to be writing a play on Vampires, from the Vampire’s perspective. As the creator of this idea, I decide to lead my colleagues for this little reconnaissance mission. My ‘stage-name’ as it were, was Tony Myecroft - a playwright from Altdorf.
Our bluff allows us entrance and we stand in a large hallway, centred by an enormous flight of stairs. At the top of these is an incredible Tapestry depicting a battle with Sigmar.
The butler, an old and dusty character leads us into a dining room where six people sit, watching us enter the room. As I take in the paled, and ageless faces around the table, not only do I recognise LeStadt, but also that all of them are blood-sucking Vampires. Two wear military uniforms, but as I am unfamiliar with military garb I know not where they are from. Also, another of our observers was undoubtedly a woman, and could not, in any language be described as a man, especially Braille. All of the others wear clothes that went out of fashion more than a century ago. One of these stand up and he introduces himself as Isabell. He is a tall, well-built man who looks around fifty. He rises from his tall chair and introduces those around the table.
I bow to each in turn and say, "Good evening Gentlemen, and Ladies, my name is Tony Myecroft, and I have the honour to lead this band of vagabonds you see before you. I am a little known playwright from the great city of Altdorf, and have come to the Border Princes to write a play with a difference. This play will be written from the Vampire’s point of view."
Have explained this, I await the response, from this undoubtedly powerful Vampire, politically and physically. Instead of answering, Isabell, already standing slides gracefully towards Kairn and begins stroking his neck and dropping comments such as, "My what red lips you have, you must have plenty of blood….." and other such statements. Kairn, begins gibbering and sideling backwards at these comments. Isabell, apparently displeased by Kairn’s lack of enthusiasm, summons the guards to imprison us at his leisure, and it appeared to me that he was seldom pleased.
Molotovo, with a quickness that only an Elf can achieve drew a slim dagger and hurls it at the unfortunate guard in the way. He then drew his sword, and with a strange cry sliced the guard from shoulder to stomach. Kairn recovers from Isabell’s caress, and slices a guard in the arm whose face contorts in pain and anger. Argon Darkstryde, employing all his skills of balance slides over the fast swelling blood and picks up the guards fallen crossbow, and fires at Kairn’s combatant foe. The arrow whistles through the air, striking the door neatly in the centre after failing to hit anyone. One of the guards, a tall, bulky man with a fat moustache hefts an enormous axe and swings it in a dangerous arc towards Kairn. He sees the blow coming and twists desperately aside, so the axe whistles past his head, and only manages to slice into his thigh.
Nikolus Kvorchek, shuns his Necromantic powers, and after a brief cry ruptures the man’s stomach sending him screaming in agony to the floor where he writhes for a few moments before finally dying.
Having watched this with interest I turn my attention to those whom I perceive to be the greater threat, the Vampires!
Summoning the Winds of Magic I hurl a well-aimed fireball at the Dining table. Many would see that as a wasted shot which should have been fired at a Vampire, not I. For I know that one of the greatest fears of the Vampire is that of Fire, and so, by lighting the table, it set fire to the wine as well and would force the creatures away from us. My plan works, but I quickly realised that they would simply move carefully around the burning wood. To instil the fear if my Magic in them, I throw another Fireball at one of the Vampires, who I recall to be named Luigi. He erupts into flames, as I had hoped and runs screaming from the room.
Feeling that we have out-lived our welcome, we decide that now would be a good time to leave. We run out of the blood soaked dining room, and head for the main doors, which loom before us. Only one guard bars our escape. Obviously an expert Swordsman, he provides a challenge for three of us, until finally Argon arrives and, whirling a Mace, crushes the man’s skull, splattering us with blood, brain and bone.
We then heave open the doors and retrieve our Horses before fleeing at a gallop to the Inn to report. After this, we heal and sleep.
Click here to go to the next partPROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
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