Shadows of Heimhof IC thread: (waiting for activity)

Chapter one The Beast From The Blackness

:Heimhof bronze quarter, marketplace mid afternoon:

The common buildings of Heimhof crowded around the Marketplace like too many teeth in a mouth, and whilst being in better shape than most of the other building, the exposed wood was aged grey and cracked and the plaster peeling and cracked. Each building was roughly three to four stories tall and caste shade over the bloodstained market below.

The marketplace appeared to be a slaughterhouse, merchant stalls lay overturned or smashed to pieces their wares lay scattered upon the blood slicked cobbles, scattered throughout the marketplace, dozens of naked pale corpses lay sprawled on the ground some pierced with arrows.

Guards clad in the Green and Yellow of the Stirland state troops moved in pairs amongst the dead stopping only to chop the heads from the bodies before skewering them on trophy hooks and dragging them off to the mule pulled wagons that waited nearby. While several dozen others had cordoned off the street preventing the gathering crowd of peasants from approaching.

Archers moved along the rooftops above watching over the cleanup and crowd below with notched arrows but Bows undrawn.

In the center of it all a fat Red-faced sergeant shouted orders at his men whilst gnawing upon a large turkey leg gripped in one meaty fist.

 

Suddenly the crowded peasants parted in hushed murmuring as a robed figure atop a mighty warhorse rode into the market place, guards moved forward to stop this newcomer but quickly shrank back cowed as the scarred face beneath the hood gazed down upon them in a mixture of holy fervour and condemnation.

Miccah gazed around him in disgust shaking his head of his own folly, a few days ago he had received word that in Heimhof the faithful still resisted against the vampire hordes their beacon of faith holding back the undead instead all he saw was a town griped in fear. How could the Empire hold if its people lacked faith..... no he chastised himself it was not that they lacked faith but that the cursed undead and their foulness that was to blame which he would cleanse with his own unyielding faith kissing his hammer talisman wrapped around his neck. Quickly dismounting Miccah lead his horse over to the centre of the market place where he sought the one in charge.


"In the name of Sigmar what happened here" he growled whilst fixing the fat commander with a fiery stare

 

The sergeant was a short middle aged man with a stocky build, with an ugly Orclike face made uglier by a thick ropy scar that ran down the left side of face beneath a leather eyepatch emblazed with the twin tailed comet of Sigmar, despite the man’s ugly appearance his uniform was well maintained with his polished plackart bore a bronze skull surrounded by the laurels of valour, under his arm he held a Barbute helm with three yellow and green feathers showing his rank.

As the witch hunter approached the Sargent threw the remains of his meal on the ground and fixed him with a flinty stare “Yea here for the Witch then, Lord Witch Hunter she went into the sewer-“ the man broke off as the crowd began to stir as the Warrior priest stormed up to him.

The Sargent blustered slightly beneath the priests stare, his cheeks turning purple “G-ghouls father” the man placed a hand defensively upon the flanged mace on his belt “the sewers are infested with the wretches”