Agent of the Shroud

8/9/2019 Agent of the Shroud

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BLOOD, BLOOD everywhere … Leopold - a once fearsome witch hunter - now his body lay on topof of cultists in some filthy Tilean sewer … disgraced.Heinrich suffered potentially the worst fate of them all. He tried to engage the servant of chaoshead on… only to find he was no match for whatever was raised that night. A deafening blow …and then a flame of the purest white colour he had ever seen … and Heinrich was no more …vanished … into thin air … FIRE … BLOOD … and then suddenly as if somebody opened awindow during a hot summer night, a cool breeze entered the tunnel, along with it came calmingsounds, the world froze. Bernard stood up, he could breathe easily, there were no bodies anymoreand the blood was gone …”WHERE IS THE DAEMON ” - was his immediate reaction and he triedto find some form of weapon to counter the next assault wave …

Instead of a wave of cultists or a daemon, something else drew his attention. Deep in the tunnel alight started to shine, not the same type of light that recently had killed his friend but a soothinglight, nearly warm to the touch. a Voice spoke, the echoes travelled throughout the sewer system“ENOUGH” … then a calm voice spoke to him, well to his mind actually, … GI LATHAM HI,AHRAIN, GI LATHAM … Bernard was flabbergasted … someone greeted him in Eltharin. Theycalled him ‘LATHAM’ the Asun rune for stealth, shadows, secrets, night. a Name he was calledbefore, but he could remember … who was there with him in the sewers beneath Miragliano?

LE FAEL spoke Bernard and relaxed his stance from a defensive one to a more relaxed one. Atthis moment he witnessed the silhouette of person in the light far away in the tunnel. The silhouetteapproached him. “Man i eneth lín” (who are you)- Bernard addressed the person that approachedhim, “Man i eneth lín”. A friendly female voice answered “i mellon” … “a friend??? in this hellhole”. Before he realised who he was talking to he stood face to face with Sigrid (the priestess of Taal &Rana that he had met in the enclave and that he and his party had helped destroy thenecromancer oppressing her people).

“You, here??? Why? how? my friends … DAEMON … BLOOD FIRE …” his mind spiralled inmadness but Sigrid took his hands and whispered “Suil Annui, erio thûl lín i faer hen” (which

roughly translates in - Winds of the West, may your breath lift this spirit ) … and just like thatBernard found himself back on deck, eye to eye with Sigrid. “ It’s ok friend … I’ve experienced yoursuffering now. you will have to let go. What’s done is done you cannot bring them back you need tolet he past be the past …”. Bernard broke, after the action packed last few days he had beengrieving a lot his lost friends. With a low weeping voice he silently addressed Sigrid “thank You fairlady but I am a broken man, everything that was dear to me was ripped from existence in thosedamned tunnels in Miragliano … evil was set free in the world that night and we paid a heavy pricefor that. I was so unfortunate to survive the horror … WHY ME? a petty thief and silly adventurer. Icouldn’t really fight so I hid in the crowd and survived cowardly … When Myrion pulled me out ofthose blasted sewers I swore an oath to redeem myself and avenge the fallen. But what have Idone so far? What great acts of redemption did I realise already? NOTHING, I am disgusted withmyself … I have wandered around the empire and learned nothing about our assailants … 2

YEARS have passed, … 2 years (his voice cracked up).

Sigrid comforted him “we are but mere mortals, who are we to define what our role is in life? weare like a drop of water, running from the hill each of us following a random path. Some of thedrops stop running earlier than others but all are equal … don’t think that you are any less thanyour fallen comrades your purpose in life yet has to run its course, you survived because your storyis not finished. Don’t overthink, don’t look for your story, let it find you.” Bernard nodded but couldprevent shedding some tears deeply ashamed about the fact that he was unable to avenge thedeath of his friends.

Sigrid pulled a flash out of her robes and handed him a cold beverage, “here, drink this, you

deserve a goods night rest. This iced tea will subdue your demons and calm you down … rest nowLatham …Hodo vae mellon (rest well friend). Bernard accepted the cup and drank the tea. Shortlyafter he dozed off …

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The following few days were pretty uneventful. Bernard had shoved all the memories of his deadfriends in a deep corner of his mind and decided to focus on his actions of vengeance. During theday time he spoke a lot with Sigrid, some party members. At night he tried to study a bit the contentof the necromancy. As the days went along so did his mood lighten up. The party started to have afew meetings on what steps they would take once they arrived. Most of the members would like tore-gear, buy better and more suitable armour, suits, weapons … the works. Others would like toseek guidance and healing at the temple of Shaliah…

Bernard had made a list of goods he needed to buy. He had stocked up on some items he couldsell and would take the time to wander the streets, looking for what the city had to offer. But evenmore than wandering the streets he wanted to be absorbed by the city, learn its secrets find outwhere information could be acquired and figure out how to improve his weapon mastery. Notnecessarily simple combat skills, Bernard figured out that he would have to improve his stealthfighting given he would never be a broad shouldered fighter.

At last they arrived at the city of Grissenwald …

Before going to shore Bernard addressed Dieter in a private discussion. He wanted to remain as

anonymous as possible to improve is chances of infiltrating in the city. He agreed to sync up withthe party leader each evening just after sunset, sneaking into the mansion and sneaking out whenneeded. At first Dieter did not agree with the idea of one of his party members infiltrating the city.Dieter wanted to talk strategy and leave as soon as possible for Middenheim but agreed as othersin the party expressed similar requests, each wanting to spend a bit more time on their individualneeds rather than the quest they were on.

Without too much fuzz and delay Bernard set foot on shore and found his way easily into the city.Round noonish he checked in into a small inn at the edge of the city centre, at easy walkingdistance from Dieter’s mansion (roughly a quarter of an hour) and just far enough outside the citycentre to be at ease among people that don’t really pay too much attention to others and that do

not ask too many questions - ideal as a base of operation.

The barkeep was an old man, covered in tattoos, a few yellow teeth wearing an eyepatch. He wentby the name of Granger and his inn was his own property, looking at his hands it rapidly becameapparent to Bernard that this guy had not been an innkeeper for his entire life, his suspicion wasquickly confirmed by the “safe-house” markings that were carefully applied in the naming of the inn“rusti nailz” (the i in rusty was deliberately misspelled and the Z in nailz had a remarkable curl nearthe end … this was a “guild house” marked to ensure that no questions would be asked providedcoin was provided … Bernard smiled as this was the closest to home he had ever been.

That night he chatted up the barkeep, explaining that he was a traveller from Wissenland on hisway to Altdorf to purchase spices, like the ones imported from the new world. He also explained

that he was a simple merchant who would by for the lord of Kell. From the inked he got a fewaddresses to purchase a few items and also got some pointers to little markets in the city whereitems could be sold. After a good meal and a few pints of decent ale, Bernard called it a day.

After making sure his room was securely locked Bernard took the time to address a prayer to Morrand Sigmar the 2 deities he had trusted on his entire life. Even more now than then he would seekrefuge in his faith. Though calmed by his talks with Sigrid he still grieved his previous partymembers so he asked Morr for safe passage and safekeeping of his friends and he prayed toSigmar to infuse strength in him so he could find it in himself to go down his vengeful path. Heconcluded his prayers by grasping his hand over his dagger in ritual sacrifice a blood offer to morr just like Sigmar did on his doomsday by offering the bleeding heart of a bull to honour his

forefathers. In a swift move he drew blood, and grasped the medallions of Morr and Sigmarhanging around his neck.

After a few minutes he cleaned his dagger, bound the cut in his hand and went to bed …

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“HOLD THE THIEF …. “ Bernard jumped out of his bed and drew his dagger, only to realise hewas still in the inn. The noise that had awoken him came from the street. The day had alreadybegun and based on how the light could be observed in the street Bernard estimated it was aroundeight-ish … Most like a merchant was robbed and the guard was chasing the thief through thestreets …

“aah city life …” Bernard smiled as he went down to get some breakfast after which he embarkedon his journey into the city.

“First things first, I need to sell some stuff and preferably this silverware I’m dragging with me.Small items I can easily carry so they do not need to be ‘offloaded’ I’ll take my time to find a goodbuyer, but this heap of plates, knives & forks … no sir they need to go”. It didn’t take Bernard to selloff his silverware and for the more or less acceptable price of 200 gold coins, not to bad a deal butacceptable. Bernard needed to offload and he needed cash to burn.

Second stop on the way, the smithy where Bernard first sold his chain sleeve. In the end henoticed that he lost a lot of his agility when wearing it and even more he couldn’t bear the sight of

it, he had to wear it after facing total humiliation at castle Richtenfell .. this shirt had to go. Thereason however he visited the smithy was not to sell some stuff but he needed a new weapon, onethat suited him and his lifestyle. He was not a sword fighter and a dagger, … well you use it to cutbread and sausage …a hammer was nice but in the end it only deals blunt damage and could notbe used for anything else besides driving poles in the ground to set up a tent or so , not really auseful item when travelling a lot in the outdoors. No, Bernard had decided that the best weapon ofchoice for him would be an axe, not a dual hander off course. No, a decent sized hand axe woulddo.

The blacksmith could provide him with both a best quality axe and a kit to maintain it (oil, awhetstone, leather cloth …). Bernard paid the man, thanked him and strapped his newly acquired

axe to his belt behind his back and use his travel coat to cover it up as usual. “ and no off to find mesome studded leather, a storm lantern, a tinderbox ….”.

Bernard had sunken deep into thought when an event happened that would snap him to alertness just like a bear trap snaps the life out of an accidental fox that stepped on it. As he was planninghis next stops on the road of restocking of his gear a man briefly passed through his line of sight …Usually Bernard would care less for people moving down streets or markets but this guy, he couldhave sworn that he had seen him before … but he couldn't quite figure out where … he stoodthere, thinking “where did we meet, … hmm a guy with a tanned skin, short but curled moustache,somebody from the southern regions of the empire may be, a merchant … hmmm what else, a hat- not uncommon - a hint of garlic when he passed me … hmm a tanned man, clearly from thesouth carrying a garlic smell, and I seem to remember hem exactly as he was when he crossed me

… NO …NO that cannot be, or could it ?…”

Instinctively Bernard started to walk in the direct that the man had gone, not trailing him, just tryingto go into the same direction, hoping to get another glance of the guy.

By noon Bernard had given up. He didn’t get his chance for another glimpse and though that hewas chasing a ghost anyway. What would a Tilean do here in Grissenwald??? Given it was such anice day and that he had walked around pretty much aimlessly the last 2 hours Bernard ought ittime to call it quits, go over to a local bar and enjoy a small meal and a drink on the terrace.

“There really are worse places in the world to be right now” he considered while finishing his

sausage … “the sun on my face, a nice meal, a half decent mug of ale … nice” . But just when hewas about to put his lips on the mug his attention was drawn to a man, wearing a hat, having asouthern look standing across the street, talking to another guy. Bernard gently put his mug down,stood up, left a silver and some pennies on the table and tried to glance by the southerner trying to

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have a good look without getting spotted. Skilled in the art of silent movement, stealth and agile ashell he slipped off the terrace of the bar, entered the street, snuck by some bystanders and wasable to position himself at roughly 2 yard, directly opposite from the guy, … he could smell thegarlic … just as he could a few hours ago AND JUST AS HE COULD 2 years ago!

“SALVATORE MACCHIANI as a live and breathe …” , Bernard froze to the ground … overwhelmedby emotions. He kept thinking to act natural, don’t give yourself away, don’t let him recognise you… but for a brief moment, time stood still and he recalled this guy, Salvatore, approaching him inhis inn - “the ugly duckling” - looking for a group of men to save his daughter that had been takenby cultists below his warehouse in Miragliano. This guy, was responsible for the slaughtering of hisfriends … he could draw his axe and end him here and now … “why the hell not???” - Bernardkept arguing with himself.

After a minute that looked like ages, Bernard decided to trail him. First he wanted to figure out whathe was doing here, potentially recruiting new innocent victims for his blood fest? He neededanswers and this time he would make sure he would get them even if it would cost him his lifetrying.

When the quick plan made sense in his head, a certain “coolness” took over. His emotions tuckedaway pretty deep Bernard started the execution of his ‘watch and learn’ plan. First of all he circledaround the place he was standing, to make sure that nobody was either following or watching him.Then he disappeared into the alley next to the bar to check if others where watching Salvatore. Hestood there for a minute or 2 potential 3 until he was pretty sure that there were no hidden guardsor other shadowers around.

By that time, Salvatore finished up his discussion and started to walk down the street. This was thequeue for Bernard to get moving too. For hours he walked, taking notes of where they went andapproximately how long Salvatore halted to speak to somebody each time they halted. He figuredhe would process the data when he was in he inn later this evening, using a city map he had

acquired from a local merchant that happened to be willing to “lend” him his map.

Remarkably one of the stops on the route included the temple of Morr in the lower city … “great heis either a Morrite or an even bigger piece of scum than I already assumed, trying to makearrangements within the holy temple. Sure … take your time, pray, deal, whatever it is you feel likedoing, Morr is on my side he will smile upon your corpse when I had my way with you …” Bernardmumbled …

When Salvatore left the temple an hour or 2 later, Bernard had nearly given up. He thought thatSalvatore would have taken a shortcut exit rather than the main entrance, that he had beendetected or that a shady deal had gone down and that Salvatore would have made a run for it.

No, the guy came out of the temple and started walking like other civilians would do. Late in theafternoon - around five-is - Salvatore entered an inn, “the trusty tahr”. Bernard waited 10 minutes,checked for markings on the walls of the inn, disguised himself with what stuff he had with him andentered the inn.

As he entered he saw indeed Salvatore, he was sitting in the far corner of the room, drinking wineand enjoying a nice supper. Bernard ordered a mug of ale, a piece of bread and sat down 2 tablesdown from where Salvatore was sitting and observed. He skimmed the inn - nobody was payingobvious attention - he looked at Salvatore - this guy was obviously enjoying his meal - and finallyhe rested, put his feet up and sat there ordering food and the occasional beer, smoking a pipe forthe remainder of the evening. He needed to make sure Salvatore would stay here so that he could

come back tomorrow and start a further investigation. He couldn’t stay here tonight as this couldrise suspicion at the inn he had booked himself into and he didn’t want his room to be pillaged …

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After Salvatore left the dining room, Bernard mad sure he saw him entering the hallway up to hisroom. At that time, Bernard returned to the bard and had a chat with the innkeeper.“Business is good?” “Can’t complain” - said the inn-keep. “You a foreigner? or traveller? Business,pleasure …?” - enquired the inn-keep. Bernard grinned “Well aren’t we the chatty type … I travelyes but I am from Wissenland, still our beloved empire and so no foreigner … why? I take it thelord of the inn is not a big fan of the diverse cultures with which us imperial merchants trade?”“Well I cannot say that I don’t like the coin they bring but I simply distaste some of their manners,each of this guys has its own quirks … take the guy that was sitting in the far end corner … aTillean He DEMANDS to sit in that very corner every day and DEMANDS to drink only a specificblend of red wine, I had to send my servant out to buy more. Sure he pays well but after all theseyears of opening up an inn one starts to wonder if there’ll ever be a point where you get fed up withthese specific treatments and just tell FUCK OFF to a guy … then again a customer is a customerand I have to provide for my family …”

Bernard smiled “I get your point, I’m in the fur selling business myself and a deal with theseeccentric foreigners all of the time … I too experience sometimes that I need to bite off my tonguein order not to lash out at them, but like you said … business first. Anyway, that Tilean youmentioned how long is he in for? I might come back and bring some samples, typically southerners

have a weak spot for snow leopard furs …”

“Ooh that guy … he booked for a week and only arrived yesterday. You’ll have plenty of time tomeet him …” “Right” - Bernard said - “then I’ll return later this week, here’s a few silver to keep hiswine flowing … your business might serve mine too …” Bernard nodded, smiled and left the innonly to return to his own.

By the time he arrived at the rusti nailz inn the evening had fallen and shadow covered the streetsand market places of Grissenwald. Bernard had spent most of the way back to the inn checkingthat nobody was following him while keeping an eye on the architecture of the city. If he wanted toact he would need to have an impeccable knowledge of each and every back alley, manhole little

park and other details of the city he could think off. No detail could be overlooked.

He wouldn’t have too much time for plotting his next move tonight as he agreed on attending abanquet at Dieter’s mansion. A social event for which he had to dress up a bit and freshen up.Upon arrival at the inn he decided not to announce his presence by entering through the front door.Instead he circled one time around the block - making sure one last time that he wasn’t beingfollowed - after which he climbed up to his room window via the rain-pipe.

After having checked his room for intrusion (he had placed certain items seemingly careless in atricky and disorderly fashion on the nightstand, bedside, floor and window-sill). “Nice … everythingis still in exactly the same spot as I left it in …this is truly a safe house … I must have a chat withthe inn-keep” he mumbled. He removed his crappy disguise, fetched his good cloak and splashed

a bit of water in his face and hair. “And now off to dinner …” Bernard left as he came, through thewindow.

As agreed with Dieter he could easily enter the mansion through the service entrance. Duringdinner the preparations for the trip to Middenheim were discussed. Bernard wasn’t really activelyparticipating in the discussions, instead he sat back firmly in his chair, ate some food andwondered why Salvatore was in Grissenwald … As the evening progressed, so did theconsumption of spirits … Bernard decided he had enough as the majority of the dinner guestsalready started talking gibberish. He thanked Dieter for his hospitality - not that he noticed - andmade an exit through the servants quarters.

Before leaving through the mansion’s back door portal he quickly pulled a wig out of his sling bag,mounted it on his head, pulled his cloak inside out and pulled the hood over his head. “That’ll do …that’ll do …” Bernard was not really happy with the quick & dirty disguise but at least this would

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prevent bystanders in the street from noticing that a hooded man entered and left the mansion viathe back door.

As he stepped up to the inn he quickly removed the wig and stepped into the entrance hall fromwhich he could overlook the rest of the smoke filled inn. There were still a few persons sittingaround here and there, chatting, drinking … not paying attention to people entering the inn.

“Busy day … ?“ said the inn-keep as Bernard approach the bar. “aye … as usual too much to do intoo little time” Bernard replied. “I cannot complain however, business is good, the city flourishes”“hehe yes she does, doesn’t she … lots of travellers, lots of traffic during the day … and night”Bernard briefly caught the inn-keep blinking his eye to him. Bernard smiled, grinned actually “ oh Isee …”. Bernard unbuttoned his coat and sat down on a barstool. “say that one would like to getthe latest spills on the ‘underflow’ here, like for instance why the inn’s name plate seems a bit off…” Now Bernard blinked and looked straight into the inn-keep’s eyes, one hand beneath thecounter, slowly loosening the rope around his axe.

A moment of silence fell between those 2. The other bar folk kept to their own and ensured that afixed background noise filled the bar. “I’m not sure what you mean kind sir” the inn-keep replied.

“Oh surely you do my best man, such a fine establishment, such fine folk especially when thebarkeep has tattoos covering up some sever scars …” upon which moment the barkeep slowly putis right hand in his side pocket. “I think you know exactly what I meant, otherwise why mentioningthe night traffic?” “eeh, no specific reason … you know, some deals are made during the daytime,others during the evening … in bars for example” Bernard noticed that the barkeep had a bit oftrouble finding the right words to say, clearly he had been some kind of heavy hand that wasawarded with an inn for services delivered.

Instead of dancing the dance Bernard decided to cut the crap and go straight to the point “Comeon, we both know we understand each other …” Bernard slowly leaned forward while opening hisshirt. The bartender sweated … . At arms reach he slowly showed the tattoo on the left side of his

chest, a black raven in flight, the symbol of the night ravens his old guild back in Wusterburg aquite known guild chapter in Wissenland and a few neighbouring provinces in the empire. Bernardleaned back and buttoned up his shirt “I think we understand each other, no??” the barkeepnodded but replied “this is a safe house, a dispute cannot be settled here …”

Bernard put up a broad smile “Oh but fear not good man, I am here for business, I have no quarrelwith the local chapters here. I’ m a merchant, a tourist if you’d like” immediately the expression onthe barkeep’s face cleared up “Patrick” said the barkeep and out his hand “Richard” said Bernardand he shook the barkeep’s hand. He assumed it would be safer not to share his true identity givenwhat he was about to undertake.

“So Richard, let’s talk business, what can I do you for”, Patrick made a gesture to one of the

barmaids and a table was set up in the far corner of the inn. “ Please have a seat. So .. what bringsa Southerner here to Grissenwald”. Bernard explained he had a personal matter to attend to, oneof the kind that required a fair level of delicacy to wrap it up. As it was personal to Bernard heexplained that information should only be spread on a need to know basis. “Sure, sure … no sweatbut what service can I provide …”. “I’m looking for 2 guys that can pack a punch and a secureshelter, no interference no questions asked. I need full confidentiality, no names …”. a Mediocresmile formed on Patrick’s face “I cannot say this is a normal request for a stranger walking intotown … but eh given your heritage … I think it can be arranged”. During the conversation Bernardnoticed the change in voice pitch and the rapid eye movement of the barkeep when mentioningBernard’s old guild - the night ravens.

They surely had a reputation … clearly it had carried all the way to Grissenwald. Though Bernardhadn’t been in contact with the night ravens for quite a while he surely wasn’t planning on informingthe barkeep here and would play the game until the end.

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“for the right price …” Bernard nodded “gimme a few days and I’ll inform you.” Bernard noddedagain and slowly pushed 2 gold pieces towards the inn-keep, who quickly made them disappear,bit on them and smiled. “A pleasure doing business with you Richard, please have a drink on meand enjoy your stay in our city …” .

The 2 guys chatted until the inn’s barroom had emptied. Around midnight Bernard excused himselffor having to wrap up their little soirée. He desired a good night sleep as he needed to addressmore items tomorrow that required his full and undivided attention. Patrick nodded, shook his handand started wished him good night.

Back in his room Bernard couldn’t help but feeling some form of satisfaction. With a little bit of extracoin he would be able to snatch Salvatore from the street and interrogate him. The next few dayshe would follow him and try to pin point a location for the hit.Again he concluded the day with a prayer to Morr & Sigmar explaining them that his hour ofvengeance drew near.

The next day Bernard left before the dawn and headed over to the inn where he left Salvatoreyesterday, this time wearing a decent disguise. Just as he has positioned himself as such that he

could oversee the whole inn, he saw Salvatore walking down from one of the streets adjacent tothe inn. When he came within site, Bernard noticed the mud on his boots and clothes .. “where hadhe been, so early in the morning?? This guy was really a box of surprises”. Furthermore, Bernardwatched Salvatore enter the inn via a back door, it nearly appeared as if he had a key …

When the inn opened Bernard entered and ordered breakfast …

Te rest of the day was filled with shadowing Salvatore. He followed him all over town, only to findhimself fall from one surprise into the other. Salvatore stopped by the morgue, the coroner, a fewbars, the smithy and last but not least the temple of Morr where again he stayed for a few hoursafter which he returned to the inn where he met up with a few people.

“What’s he doing here? What is his purpose … why the visits to the morgue and MORR? WHY?What kind of a twisted cultist was this guy?” Salvatore’s behaviour really puzzled him. “It should benoted that he seems to meet both common people and others that are clearly some sort ofadventurers” is what Bernard wrote down in his journal while having dinner at the trusty tahr inn, 2tables away from Salvatore.

Curiously enough a hooded fellow came in, addressed Salvatore and both left quite soon after,almost as if he was called away. Bernard immediately arranged his affaires and followed the bothof them into the darkness through the maze of streets and alleys of Grissenwald. Bernard was soeager to know what they were up to that he nearly forgot to keep his cool and keep checking thathe remained concealed.

After walking for roughly an hour Salvatore and his companion met up with 3 other guys that werestanding over what appeared to be a corpse lying on the street, near the outskirts of the city.Bernard made sure he hid in an unstoppable position from which he could observe what was goingon. It seemed that the 5 men were discussing … it seemed like ages. Suddenly Salvatore clearlysignalled something to the others, pulled up the hood from his cloak, and went back from where hecame. Moments after he had turned his back one the other men pulled a small shovel out of hisbackpack with he beheaded the corpse!

“WHAT THE HELL, in the name of Morr …” Bernard’s thoughts ran free in his mind. But there wasno time to linger, he needed to move quickly if he were to remain trailing Salvatore.

As he snuck away from where he was hiding he could have sworn that he saw the limbs of thecorpse move just for a brief moment … “nah, just a secondary effect from the nervous systemtriggered by the beheading” he ensured himself.

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Salvatore went back to the inn without bothering to take another route, without checking that hewas being followed, Bernard was now highly convinced that he must have been linked tosupernatural cults as guild members at least would double check their path and safety.

Upon arrival at the inn - it must have been midnight - Salvatore walked up to the backdoor andsimply entered … as if is was the front door of his home. Bernard kept on walking, glancing the inntrying to spot signs, markings of any kind that would indicate that there was more to the inn than heinitially assumed … however given the speed at which he walked by and the darkness covering thecity, no apparent markings could be distinguished.

Bernard made haste in returning to the rusti nailz inn. He had to enter by climbing the rain pipeagain as the inn had closed for the night already. Up in his room he reflected on the events of theday. “What is this guy’s link with Morr … not a death mage for sure. He travelled with one andSalvatore is nowhere near like the death mage of his current party a death mage or instancedoesn’t carry the sent of garlic with him though this could be a cultural thing. And what was thedeal with the corpse on the street. It almost seemed as if those guys requested Salvatore to‘approve’ of something or given his opinion … what was he? a crime lord, a cultist that harvested

bodies? More importantly why would he have approached a party of adventures … his party, 2years ago.” Bernard couldn’t wrap his head around it so he decided to give it a rest for now.Tomorrow he would further investigate. After a quick prayer he put himself to bed.

The next played out pretty much in the same way as the previous days did. Bernard shadowedSalvatore who visited roughly the same places always the temple of Morr for a few hours, always aquick visit to the coroner, some bar visits and a visit to a random market. Instead of surveilling thetarget Bernard now just followed him and drafted an action plan in his head. Each day, nearsunset, Salvatore would come out of the temple of Morr. A place he did not visit to pray as Bernardfollowed him into the temple too. No, instead of praying to Morr or making some kind of offeringSalvatore entered the temple only to disappear immediately and without any trace.

While Bernard was waiting for Salvatore to leave the temple a series of thoughts crossed his mind… “so each day he leaves here around sunset, has dinner at the trusty tahr, potentially meets afew people over there and calls it at day … Since I will have to wait for the night to set in I willneed some trick to lure him out if I want to be able to snatch him … hmm I think the local furmerchant should re-visit the inn may be …” Bernard smiled. “yes, that will be the plan. I lure himout, we go round back to my ‘wagon’ and the 2 heavies take care of the rest” .

As usual for Salvatore, he left the temple around sunset and headed over to the trusty tahr inn.Bernard kept watch until the inn closed and headed to his inn soon after.

Upon arrival at the rust nailz Bernard noticed that a feint light was still lit in the dining room. He

quickly removed his disguise as good as possible and knocked on the door. a peephole slit openand Bernard heard the inn-keep say “ah it’s you Richard, please enter …”. As Bernard entered deinn-keep locked the door and explained that he would like to talk business with him in the commonroom next to the dining room.

The common room was a small area used to to keep extra bed sheets, pillows in fact lots of spareitems that are frequently used in the inn. As Bernard entered he saw that 2 big men had alreadytaken place at what seemed to look like a small table with some bags of flour or wheat placed nextto it. Behind Bernard the inn-keep entered “Guys this is … “ “No names!” interrupted Bernard. “Idon’t need to know you and you don’t need to know me. All you need to know is that you will bepaid to aid me executing a plan … to the letter , for which you will be paid correctly upon

completion”. The 2 guys nodded and the barkeep kept to himself.

After Bernard had explained them the plan he showed them again his raven tattoo … “this provesthat I am no to be messed with, I am accustomed with the language, the markings, the wages …

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the repercussions if things go south … respect me and I’ll respect you. Good night gentlemen seeyou tomorrow as agreed.” Bernard placed 6 gold coins on the table, nodded and took the stairs tohis chambers, where he as usual wrote down his findings of the day and prayed to Morr andSigmar. His day of vengeance would be nigh …

Next day, Bernard was out and about before the crack of dawn. He carefully prepared hismerchant’s disguise and went over every detail of the plan in his head. He would trail Salvatore forthe last time. When he would have his dinner in the trusty tahr inn he would approach him,pretending to be a fur salesman, trying to lure him outside to present his collection. Once round thecorner of the inn the 2 strongmen he hired would ambush Salvatore in the alley, bag him, load himup on a dog cart and cover the body with a tarp. At the same time they would assault Bernard indisguise and drag him in the alley. From that point they would leave and make way to a guildhouse near the rust nailz inn. Bernard would remove his disguise and trail the dogcart from adistance … a sound plan!

He applied his disguise, blackened his axe and dagger with a candle (the soot from the flamewould lay a thick black layer on the metal hence it would not reflect light without losing sharpness,off course this is a one use only trick …) and readied himself. He entered the streets again via his

bedroom window. Once he had established that there were no peeping toms around he left for theinn where Salvatore was staying. He made haste as he didn’t want to encounter any surprises.

A quarter of an hour later he was in position, ready to observe … The inn was considerably closeto some form of farmer’s market. When Bernard arrived the merchants were setting up. He tookthe time to stroll around and look at what was on sale … mainly local food but in the far cornerthere was a Tilean merchant selling dried garlic strands. Bernard bought 2 “may be it will help megetting a bit closer to him … anyway I’m sure the smell will piss off some of the party memberswhich is always nice …” .

When he returned to his position from where he observed the inn he saw Salvatore approaching

from a distance just like yesterday … only today he as accompanied by the coroner. Both had theirpants covered in dirt/mud and the coroner was carrying a shovel over his shoulder. At the inn theyshook hands and parted ways. Bernard assumed that they must have come from the graveyard.“But why … what is this guy doing there … and 2 days in a row??? “.

The rest of the day passed by pretty uneventful and predictable, just like the days before. Bernarddidn’t really care, he carried out his mission without a glitch.

As the sun set Bernard knew that the time had come to for him to take action and finish what hecame to do. He checked his disguise one last time, made sure he had some furs hanging out of hissling bag and approached the inn.

As he entered he was immediately greeted by the inn-keep of the trusty tahr “Heey it’s the fancymerchant … people like you are always welcome in Vinny’s inn. Have a seat, want some wine? ”Bernard greeted the inn-keep too and skimmed the bar attendants … yes HE was there, eating athis usual table. Bernard took the glass of wine and asked if he could get the table next toSalvatore, blinking at the inn-keeper when hinting that it would improve his business ….

Once installed he took the time to order … he ate a bit, not too much, just enough not to triggersuspicion.

Salvatore was completely at ease, eating, drinking … he noticed Bernard and nodded to greet him- as is customary when greeting strangers in a polite way - and ordered some more wine. Bernard

addressed him when the waitress delivered the new bottle “Excellent choice sir, are you a‘connoisseur’?? A fine gentlemen like yourself sure looks like one to have a nose for the finerthings in life”. Salvatore smiled and responded casually “Yes, you could say I have a nose for good

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cuisine … wine, veal … off course I was breastfed culture, as probably might suspect from myaccent” “Hmm, Tilean??” Replied Bernard. Salvatore nodded …“Well I hate to abuse a good conversation during dinner but might you consider what I have to offer…?” Salvatore looked intrigued “I’m a fur salesman, I travel the old world buying and selling thefinest and rarest furs. From snow leopard over mink to skink-leather … you name it I can get it.Surely a fine gentleman like you fancies a pair of snake leather boots with a nice brown fox border… no?”. “I cannot say I am not intrigued by you offer. Are you on the market here tomorrow?”Replied Salvatore. “Even better” replied Bernard “I just packed up my stuff on my wagon here inthe alley, I could easily show you now if you wish, there is still enough light to have a good look andyou must feel the samples too, In my business seeing and feeling is buying”. “Ah why not” repliedSalvatore. Bernard had just witnessed his 2 ‘helpers’ pass by the tavern’s window so he stood uppretty confident and invited Salvatore to follow him, blinking again to the inn-keep when theypassed the bar. He opened the door and with a generous “after you” he invited Salvatore to thestreets.

“It’s just around the corner, my dog cart should be parked in the alley” explained Bernard whilefollowing Salvatore. For each step Salvatore took, Bernard took half the amount, ensuring thatSalvatore would gain distance on him while still giving the impression that he was following his

customer.

The moment they had fully entered the alley he saw the dog cart (and 2 bums lying in the gutter, abottle in their hands) and guided Salvatore “My samples are under the tarp feel free to helpyourself” While Salvatore leaned over the cart grabbing the tarp one of the heavies stood up andknocked Salvatore over the head with the empty wine bottle. Things however didn’t really go asBernard expected … He expected Salvatore to go down on the first hit but instead he turned toface his assailant, blood gushing from his head wound ..

While the 2nd heavy prepared to strike, Bernard froze to curb at the sight of 2 blades sliding downfrom the sleeves of Salvatore’s coat … “WHAT THE HELL …”. Quickly Salvatore dodged his first

attacher while stabbing him on the side … The 2nd heavy however struck Salvatore again on thehead which mad him loose his balance . Bernard felt that things could go south quickly if he didn’tintervene at that moment. Quickly he drew his axe, ran towards Salvatore and struck him with theshaft of his axe … a hit that was one too many for Salvatore who fell unconscious on the alleyfloor.

“Damned man, you never said this guys was a skilled fighter … look at me, I’m lucky my guts aren’thanging out …” One of the Heavies growled. “Don’t be a pussy, it’s a deep cut yes but you’ll liveyou cannot bake a cake without breaking some eggs … I’ms sure you’re used to more in your lineof ‘work’ . Here is leather strap, put some cloth on the wound and strap the leather band aroundyour waist. You, help me load this guy on the cart” . Bernard put Salvatore’s body on the cart,covered it up with the tarp and told the 2 guys to get moving.

As they left the alley Bernard started to remove his makeup, wig and the rest of his disguise. Therewas blood on his coat so he decided to wear it inside out.

When he too left the alley he could see the dog cart in the distance, “good they are making goodprogress and he’s not limping … they should be at the house pretty soon” he mumbled. Bernardchecked the clearing around the inn, nobody hiding in the shadows, no lurkers … “Ok, time tomove”.

Carefully Bernard started to follow the guys with the dog cart, carefully not to raise any suspicion.

From a distance he could already see the rusti nailz inn. “Great …” he thought by himself “we arenearly there, phase 1 is nearing completion”. A few minutes later he stopped at a house markedwith the drawing of black chicken. “this is it … this is the mark” Bernard knock on the door, a bald

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guy opened. “yes??” “The postman always knocks twice” - spoke Bernard with a calm voice. “yeshe does, yes he does …” the man at the door nodded and opened up to let Bernard in.

After the front door had been closed - using a 3 bolt system - Bernard was escorted to a doorbehind the staircase. From there they descended into the basement. Just as he expected not anormal one, but a gateway to a series of rooms that no doubt spanned over multiple houses andmost likely had a connection to the sewers somewhere.

Bernard was lead to a small room from which he could enter another room in which they had laidSalvatore. Bernard had a quick chat with what he assumed to be the housekeeper. He wasexplained that he could roam free in the house and ask for anything he needed as he saw fit.After the informal chat, the housekeeper left and Bernard prepared himself to go in the room nextdoor.

He dropped his coat but pulled up his hood to the level of his eyes to stay anonymous for as longas he would like. He made sure he only took in a dagger that was carefully stashed away in hisboot. As he opened the door he saw Salvatore lying on the floor, his head wound had been takencare off - as requested by Bernard - and he had been stripped to his underwear though a blanket

and a bucket of water was available in the room.

Bernard entered and sat down on the floor across the clearly passed out Salvatore. So manythings he would want to ask, so many bottled up anger but he should keep his cool, he neededinformation as most likely Salvatore was only a pawn in a greater scheme. He didn’t seem to be apracticing cultist though his body was covered in tattoos. A big black rose was tattooed across hisback, the roots of the flower seemed to line up with his ribs while the rest followed his spine …“That must have heart like hell” thought Bernard … furthermore there were other symbols placedhere and there on his body. 2 of those intrigued Bernard.

On his right upper thigh he had a tattoo of big black raven, sitting on a tombstone while his left

upper thigh displayed a raven in flight with a rose in his paws … an image he knew very well for hewore an exact copy of it as a necklace … this was a symbol of the faith of Morr, so where the blackroses and the raven on the tombstone … “this guy is a Morrite, but no preacher or acolyte. Theyusually do not get these tattoos …” some of Bernard’s rage turned more and more to curiosity.

Time flew by, Bernard waited. He had no clue how long they had been there, he didn’t really careto be honest.

At long last Salvatore started to wake up …

As his hands were bound behind his back, getting up was not easy. he tried but given the roomwas lit by a single candle he couldn’t orientate himself and his balance was severely disturbed.

Bernard let him try a few times only to see him fail over an over again. He decided to remain in theshadows a while longer until Salvatore was fully awake.

Salvatore had stopped trying to get up and decided to sit with his back leaning against one of thewalls. “Not so easy when you’re not in full control of your senses hey …” Bernard spoke in a firmand intimidating voice, not that it really seem to have an impact on Salvatore. “ I’ve been better”replied Salvatore “Why am I here, who are you … I have no beef with any of the guilds here I havepaid all my bills and respected every house rule of the city”. “I will be asking the questions here,you will only speak when asked to, have I made myself clear”.

“As clear as the southern accent that you use when you try to intimidate me” mocked Salvatore …

Bernard lost it and kick Salvatore full frontal in the teeth “Let’s he how witty you are now with youteeth as loose as autumn leaves on a tree”. Salvatore spat blood and moaned seriously.

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“Now, I see that I have your attention … What is a Tilean merchant with a secret devotion to Morrdoing here in the Empire”. Salvatore spat another gust of blood on the floor … “ iwt’s a fweecounfwy … I mewchanf, mow religion” … Bernard turned his back to Salvatore, walked a bittowards the opposing wall at which point is turned 180 degrees and kicked Salvatore in his lowerabdomen.

Salvatore folded like a sheet of paper in the wind, spitting blood,slime and what was left of hisevening supper. Bernard stepped over Salvatore’s body and put his boot on his head, Salvatoregrasped for air … doing so he inhaled his own vomit which made him even vomit more. He keptstanding there for about a minute after which Bernard ought he had enough.

He lifted his boot and walk away … to the bucket with water. As Salvatore crawled away from thepool of blood, vomit and bodily fluids Bernard took the bucket and emptied it over Salvatore’s head.

Based on Salvatore’s shuddering he grinned “quite cold it seemed …” he thought by himself.

“So … are we ready to talk? All I want is clean answer, but remember … no cockiness no attitude. Ithink I’ve made that clear already”.

“Look .. I’m a Tillean merfant, I fisit the Empire to strengfen my buffines relafions. In Tilea we prayto Morr like you pray to Sigmar … I mean no harm” …

“SO … you are a MERCHANT … a MERCHANT ….” Bernard approached Salvatore and shouted“Then tell me WHY A MERCHANT ROAMS THE STREETS AT NIGHT BEHEADING CORPSES” “WHY does a MERCHANT visits the GRAVEYARD … with a CORONER”

“Tell me … WHAT DO YOU SELL …”

Salvatore’s look changed from slightly playful (but obviously in pain) to full focus … “AAH I see that

I have your attention now you piece of filth … I don’t know what it is that you do but in my bookbefouling corpses at night it not the job of a typical merchant ”

“So until you start speaking the truth or giving me some answers that make SENSE I will keep youhere and beat I’ll even cut off you limbs and beat you with them if it makes you talk … as far as Iam concerned your life is FORFEIT, after we’re done here YOU NO LONGER EXIST”

Bernard sat down and stared at Salvatore who kept pretty much to himself. The more they satthere, the more Bernard started to relax. His focus on Salvatore softened and he found himselfstaring at his boots instead. Salvatore used this moment to try and grab the blanket.

Bernard grinned, this was the moment he had been waiting for … with cat-like agility he jumped up,

drew his dagger and planted it in the middle of Salvatore’s hand … the latter one screamed as thedagger went through his hand … Bernard retracted the dagger, grabbed the blanked and move toa far away corner of the room.

“Items like this must be earned … by ANSWERS …THE TRUTH, TELL … ME … THE … TRUTH…”

“Look, the more you decide to play this game the clearer it gets that you are not a merchant, anormal joe from the street would break and would have given me his wife, house and sold hischildren …. You put up a fight, you are resilient, you have been TRAINED …”So STOP WAISTINGMY TIME and tell me YOUR BUSINESS here …”

Bernard sat down again and tried to gain control of this emotions again, he knew this was going tobe a long long session … this guy was a pro, not a cultist high on some sort of drug. He hadfighting skills, a strong constitution and a very decent resilience.

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After he took a breather, Bernard continued. “You did not sell anything, all you do day in day out isrun around, visit the coroner, the morgue the temple of Morr and the graveyard … “ For a first time Salvatore replied “you seem to have an unnatural interest in me, tracking my everymove … As I said before I am a Merchant nothing more. All the encounters you mention are purelyrandom and pulled out of its context …”

Bernard started to loose it’s cool again … enraged he shouted “RANDOMLY PULLED OUT OFCONTEXT … AN UNNATURAL INTEREST …Let met tell you something I have my reasons for mypersonal interest SALVATORE MACCHIANI …” the name echoed through the room.

Salvatore’s attitude changed from tired but focussed to full attention … in a split second. The eversilent attitude was altered … “WHO are you .. and why would you call me by that name”

Bernard replied in a calm, somewhat natural voice “I call you by that name, because that name hasbeen engraved in my mind like it has been chiseled in stone, ever since that day you approachedME” And he lifted his hood …

Salvatore didn’t really seem to recognise him … “sorry but …”

“QUIT PLAYING THE FOOL!!! “ Bernard rumbled. “You feign that you have no remembrance of me… but I remember you like it was yesterday. You approached me and my party in Wusterburg 2years ago … your daughter had been kidnapped and abducted into the sewer system beneathMiragliano … RINGS A BELL???”

“YOU … what happened wasn’t my fault … I was sent … “

Bernard jumped up and planted his knee in Salvatore’s chest … “So you DO remember … YOUlaid us into that hellhole, ALL of my party was SLAUGHTERED there that day … there was no girl

only cultists and a DAEMON …”

Salvatore rolled over the floor moaning…

“YOU were SENT … I NEED ANSWERS, … part of me DIED that day … you were sent … to dowhat to destroy us … “ he paused …. “to destroy the witch hunter ???” he spoke very calmly.

“No No NO … none of that, I’ve already said too much. I told you my daughter was missing, thiswas true …”. “STOP LYING TO ME” Bernard grabbed Salvatore and punched him in his kidneysvia his back. Salvatore shouted out from the burning pain in his body. Bernard stood up and kickedSalvatore in the other kidney with the heel of his boot … at this point Salvatore lost consciousness.

Bernard quickly stepped out of the room. A guard stood there. Bernard asked him for a new bucketof water and some bread, the guard nodded and left.

As Bernard re-entered the interrogation room he saw that Salvatore had gained consciousnessand had rolled on his back.

“Where were we .. oh yes, you were about to tell me WHO YOU ARE, WHAT YOU DO and moreimportant WHY YOU WERE SENT to lead us to our doom”“Look, you can keep playing it cool which will only lead to me guaranteeing you a painful death

after which I conclude my vengeance until further clues present themselves … OR you could spillsome beans and will rethink what I will do to you”.

Salvatore smiled … “wrong reaction …” and Bernard ran towards Salvatore pulling back his fist tosucker punch him

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“STOP …” shouted Salvatore, “Stop please … I cannot tell you a lot, I am bound to silence”Salvatore looked down, as if he was ashamed, disgusted with himself.

At that moment there was a knock on the door. Bernard opened, accepted the bread and thebucket of water.

“Information earns my respect” Bernard walked over, washed his hand and bound it with a piece ofcloth. He then put a piece of bread in front of Salvatore that had been dipped in water.

Gracefully Salvatore ate the bread as if it was a gourmet meal.

“So, you were sent … but you’re bound to secrecy. This brings me back to my first question …WHO are you and more important WHAT are you … Don’t given me the merchant story again. Youknow me, you recall what I am … cut the crap. I’ve trailed you for a whole week. You have nocontacts here except for the hours you spend at that temple of Morr in the city. You admit being aMorrite … your tattoos show your dedication …”

“If a put a few things together … you are some form of Morr extremist this links with the trips to the

graveyard and the coroner. But why behead this corpse in the street and how did we fit in thestory? Again did Leopold had to be taken out as a form of revenge? pay-back? A witch hunter ofthe church of Sigmar that had to disappear?”

“Who enforces the silence? Surely not the acolytes of the temple …”

Salvatore kept nodding his head as some form of negation. “No no … I cannot tell. The witchhunter was not the target, your party was not the target … no war with the Sigmarites please. I wassent to find a team to investigate ‘something’ that exceeded our capabilities. What happened wasnever meant to happen … there is blood on my hands, blood that I can never repay … Iunderstand your anger … but I cannot …”

“You cannot WHAT …” Bernard reclaimed his cool … being angry would not help him now. He wasat least comforted by the fact that the party was not deliberately lead to its doom.

“What do you do, what do you investigate or who do you investigate … do you even know whathappened there?” Bernard paused as his emotions got the better of him “a daemon was releasedthere … those cultists were performing a blood ritual … is it that what you investigate? Are you awitch hunter? Clearly not … I’ve known one for more than a decade and he was not covered inSigmar tattoos . He did not operate mainly at night …”

Salvatore answered “I was tasked with getting help, your friend Leopold was a renowned witchhunter … my ‘friends’ needed his help. The cultist problem was getting out of hands this was not

our expertise… many Tileans died since that beast was set free … we couldn’t stop it either”

“Your expertise … come on man … you run around at night you have a tight link with Morr butwhen it comes down to daemons you back off … that’s not your expertise. What do you investigatethen? the dead? do you investigate cults that worship the dead??? Do you investigate …necromancy??? Are you some form of ‘Morr’s helpers’, helping those that are dead cross theriver?

“I will not tell on my friends” spoke Salvatore … “A property that I respect but I need moreinformation, I guess I’ll pay a visit to the Morr temple then. Meanwhile you’ll remain here. I willmake sure that care will be taken.

Bernard grabbed his coat, dagger and left the room. He instructed the guard to attend to theprisoner’s medical needs and arrange a meeting with the responsible of the house. The guardanswered that he should go up to the living room for an arrangement.

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and to Blessed Commander Anthon Aethelbert who after Lanfranchi’s death reformed the orderunder guidance of the Cult of Morr.

Bernard was flabbergasted by what he had just heard.

“Though the official church of Morr denounces the existence of the fellowship, it has existed … wellsince forever. Be aware that not only the official church of Morr denounces the existence of thefellowship, also the other churches of Sigmar, Shaliah … to name a few and often send out witchhunters to investigate the morrite worshipers trying to prove membership which in their opinionequals to heresy! “

Bernard nodded, silently trying to absorb as much as possible of the info that was provided. “So allof the time Salvatore was in town, he was hunting undead, vampires , necromancers … orgathering intelligence … here, in Grissenwald?”

The Bishop nodded “Yes, he is a loyal servant … one of the few remaining which is a pity thesedays given the darkness that is flooding our world”.

Bernard was enormously intrigued by this newly acquired knowledge. He had been a Morrite hisentire life, operating in graveyards, tombs, praying to Morr for support and guidance. To him itseemed as THE opportunity not only to redeem himself by increasing the commitment to faith inhis life but also a way to get approval for his quest for vengeance as he would keep striving towreak havoc on those that had caused the slaughter of his friends. Furthermore, there was apractical aspect, he had encountered a powerful necromancer with his new party and hadwitnessed first hand to what they are capable off … and they were about to travel to Middenheim toinvestigate another necromancer … even a cult .

As bold as his original threat to assassinate the bishop, Bernard stood firm and asked “how doesone join this fellowship of he shroud? long time have I sought a path to honour both Morr and my

fallen friends. I can think of no better way than to become an agent like Salvatore …”

Then he described his life and career choices, his commitment to Morr but also the more recentencounters with the Von Richtenfell family and the plan of his new party to further investigate cultsand necromancy in Middenheim.

The Bishop remained silent … Bernard could literally feel the time passing by.

“This is not a light choice my son, it is not a career choice but a commitment for life. One that bindsyou to our order and to Morr in a way you have never experienced. However given your experienceas a Guild member I feel you understand the true meaning of committing yourself to a cause. Andsince the order’s list of militants is not up to the level that it should be I guess we can consider

initiating a new member. “

“I’ve shared a lot of information with you … a bit too much but rest assured there is still a lot morebeneath the surface …”

The bishop looked at the windows and addressed Bernard “ It’s getting late, I suggest you comeback tomorrow with Salvatore and we’ll see from there onwards how to initiate you and how toguide you. I take it you are in town for more than a few days still??? If so we can still properly trainyou with the basics though I get the feeling the you draw experience out of lots of other aspectsfrom your past life, for now however I bid you farewell, see you tomorrow” The bishop clapped hishands and an acolyte entered.

Meanwhile Bernard had pulled up his hood. “Please escort master Salvatore to the exit my son”.

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In all serenity Bernard left and found himself back on the streets … close to midnight, wonderinghow to handle things with Salvatore.

Since he was convicted that the only way is to face problems head on, he decided to return to theguild house across the rusti nailz inn and talk to Salvatore.

On the way back to the guild house Bernard felt torn in two. For the firs time in years he feltrelieved - he got closer to investigating his friends’ death, a real chance to avenge himself - but onthe other hand he felt bad, really really bad for what he had Salvatore through.

In the back of mind he knew Salvatore was a trooper, a dedicated agent unwilling to reveal hisintentions … no matter what. In some way this would not have been the worst that happened tohim given his “profession”. On the other hand .. it’s a persons compassion and respect for otherson which he is truly valued.

It didn’t take Bernard long to arrive at the house. He removed his hood and knocked at the door.“Yes … Ooh it’s you, enter …” The doorman closed up after Bernard … “The boss is upstairs, heexpects you …”. Though Bernard had expected this ‘invitation’ he wasn’t any less surprised when

he was asked to have a sit-down with whoever that lead this guild in Grissenwald.

He mounted the stairs, given there was only one door he approached it gently and knocked. “ Enter…” A firm voice called him in. As he entered the upstairs room a person approached him to closethe door behind him. Amid a rather luxurious room stood a large dining table … at the very end sata middle aged guy, smoking a pipe. 2 guards had positioned on either side of the door, windowswere nailed shut and were barred.

“Aah … the nameless one … the night raven … pleased with our services so far?” Bernard grinned… with who do I have the honour of having this conversation and he bowed his head as he finishedhis sentence.

“Well I be damned, no formal introduction but he inquires me for my name … look, I’ll be veryopen. The only reason you even had the opportunity to conduct your little business in one of MYhouses, the reason you are still standing here before for me instead of lying role up in a carpet atthe bottom of my feet is because I owe the night ravens”. The provided me ‘a service’ once. So youbetter start with a proper introduction and you better explain why there is a half dead man in MYbasement while you wander off having a nice stroll through the city …”

Bernard straightened his clothes, cracked his neck a bit and started a conversation with a calmvoice but with a rather intimidating tone, after all he could’t let the guild get the better hand here orhe would loose everything. “Ok, I guess some form of curtsy is in order here, … as you know I amember of the night ravens from Kell, my nickname is ‘black rose’, I cannot even remember my

real name being an orphan that grew up in the Guilds of the Empire. I’ve always been called theblack rose. As for my business that is my own, I will tell you that it has been handled and I thankyou for your hospitality. I will pay up, if needed immediately, and then leave you guys be”.

“You really think you can walk into a house of the ‘white crow’, pay up and walk out again … I’mafraid it’s not that simple Mr Rose …”

“Look, what to you want?” Bertrand snapped bad at the leader of the white crows. “Do you reallywant a gang war? Do you really want me to go back to Kell and from there alert the rest ofWissenland that there is a guild active in this backwater hole of Grissenwald called the white crowswho make it their business to offer services and then violate the the guild charter of fair trade?? Is

it that what you seek? Bernard walked up to the guild leader “Do you really want to have to looktwice, no three times over the back of your shoulder when walking through YOUR OWN CITY,never being able to shake the feeling you’re being hunted? Well, by all means go ahead. Beat me

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up, kill my prisoner … come on … take your chance … be a local hero” Bernard finished his pleaby pulling the dagger out of his boot and plunging it firmly in the table in front of the gang leader.

Bernard noticed that his speech clearly had had an impact, he sat down and decided to cease themoment “or do you want to use this ‘opportunity’ to forge a liaison, a trade union between the nightravens and the white crows. Think about it, you could be the leader that upscaled your operations”.

Bernard knew he had struck a sensitive nerve, he saw some twinkle in the eye of the guild leader.

“Come to think of it … that actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea. You think they would be open forit? … the night ravens DO have a reputation …” said the guild leader and he smiled.

“Well I cannot speak for the night ravens off course, but I know my way around in their inner circleand I can surely speak well of our encounter. Furthermore I can offer you here and know apartnership in my business, an activity I run in cooperation with the night ravens …”.

“And what sort of business do you run, … I must say that we are not a guild of assassins …”Inquired the guild leader.

“Oh no, rest assured, my business here was a personal matter. I am a merchant, my main activityconsists out of trading rare relics and archeological artefacts … priceless items with sales marginsthat have no upper limit. In this profession I’m always looking for new sources of merchandise ornew clientele or even new trade routes … whichever you can provide is fine by me”.

“Well … then I think we can come to some sort of agreement” smiled the guild leader. He offeredhis hand to Bernard “Let’s shake on our new partnership, I’m Kelen, ‘the kid’.” Bernard shook hishand after which Kelen signalled one of his guards to fetch a cheese platter and bottle of fine wineto celebrate the new partnership.

Bernard drank a few glasses, ate a bit of cheese and excused himself for leaving a bit early for hestill had some business to attend to in the basement. Kelen nodded, confirming he understood thatbusiness had priority over everything.

Bernard explained he would go down, finish up and leave. But he would return later the next weekto talk business. Kelen smiled and said goodbye.

On the way down to the basement he thought of how to approach Salvatore but could reallyconverge to simple way … this would be without a doubt a complex matter to address.

Upon arrival at the holding room, he greeted the guard, opened the door and entered the room.Salvatore was awake and had curled up in the far corner under the blanket Bernard had left there.

The room smelled of urine and other bodily fluids … this had to stop.

Bernard approached Salvatore and gently grabbed his shoulder to reassure he meant no harm.With a calm voice he addressed Salvatore “I’ve visited the temple and spoke with father Petrus …”Salvatore’s facial expression changed from fully focussed to relaxed, as if a load was lifted from hisshoulders, he didn’t spill the beans … the bishop had lifted a tip of the veil apparently.

“You should know that hold no grudge anymore against you … I know now why we were sent … Istill resent our selection for the task but you were only … the messenger.” Bernard cried … andpulled the dagger out of his boot. Salvatore started curling around Bernard, trying to tackle him …trying to get away from him “No no … fear not “ Bernard stretched out his arm to calm down

Salvatore “I was trying to cut you loose, I mean you no harm … not anymore”.

Swiftly he cut the ropes tying Salvatore’s hands behind his back … “You’re a free man … “ Bernardsighed.

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“I apologise for my actions earlier … I do no expect you to forgive nor forget what I did. What I didto had to be done for me to move on, I do regret that it had to be at your expense. But there wasno other way … not for me. I doubt you would ever have given me the information I needed so …”

“I understand … You have a suffered a lot, we all have …I’ve had worse indeed. I will get back onmy feet, don’t worry, I am Tilean merchant we are used to being tough” grinned Salvatore as hewas flexing his muscles.

Bernard opened the door, stepped out and fetched Salvatore’s stuff.

“Here is your gear … don’t worry, all is there I merely used it to meet your ‘fellows’”. Bernardsmiled.

When he was fully dressed Salvatore addressed Bernard “What will you do now, now you know thetruth??

“I took an oath of vengeance when I buried my friends … I want to join, I want to be ‘a merchant’”and he blinked to Salvatore.

Salvatore nodded, suppressing a smile “I think you will be a good one, I’ll help you set up but that’sit then … I must say that for now we’ve done already enough business for a while …” Bernardnearly laughed but realised he couldn’t as the guard could never understand what had taken placehere.

He approached Salvatore and whispered “Come on, I’ll grab you and show us out” .

Half an hour later they were back on the streets … a few hours before dawn. As they walkedtowards the rusti nailz inn Bertrand offered the’d both go his room and rest but Salvatore refused.“If you don’t mind, I’ll go to the inn where I’m staying … come see me there tomorrow. You have my

word that I’ll be there … be safe” Bernard agreed, they said goodbye and each when on their ownpath. Bernard - as usual - climbed the rain pipe and entered his room.

The next day he felt reborn … he decided he had no agenda today. He would take a longbreakfast, have a stroll through the city, bye some new gear and meet up with Salvatore in theafternoon.

He shopped around and bought:- a full body studded leather armour- a new storm lantern (for this one he had to run all over the city as he didn’t just want “any type”

of storm lantern. He needed want a variant of the classical storm lantern, namely the onewhereby blinds could be applied to the side windows in order to either limit the light to the

bottom only or direct the light to a given direction)- a new sling bag- a best quality tent and a bedroll (he had really had it with sleeping on the ground …)- a tinder box and a flask of lamp oil.

Around noon he returned to the rusti nails inn to offload and store his new gear. Afterwards he atea large multi coarse meal, chatted with the inn-keep and went on his way to meet Salvatore.

As the sun had passed zenith he arrived at the trusty tahr. He entered the inn and asked the inn-keep (who clearly didn’t recognise him) for the presence of his Tilean contact. The inn-keep notifiedthat the guy he was seeking was out on business.

“No problem, I’ll wait on the terrace, I’ll take a beer & cheese platter please …”. And So Bernardinstalled himself on the terrace.

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It took a while - the sun was about to set - when Salvatore came walking over the market square.

“Are you ready to go to the temple” he softly spoke. “Ready as I’ll ever be …” Replied Bernard andthe left for the temple of Morr.

In the temple they both made an offering and kneeled before the altar and the statue of Morr. Soonafter they were welcomed by the same acolyte Bernard had met yesterday. “Welcome, I will notifyfather Petrus of your arrival” and he left them to their prayers.

An hour later they were requested to follow the acolyte … again they went through the markeddoor into the large chapel but instead of meeting father Petrus there they were instructed to take aseat. First Salvatore was called forth to join Petrus in his personal quarters, a small sub section ofthe chapel.

Bernard waited, and waited … and waited some more. It must have been night when he was calledforth.

As the acolyte opened the little door, giving way to the inner sanctum, Bernard picked up the scent

of garlic and incense … the door closed behind him.

The inner sanctum, the private quarters of the bishop was some sort of combination between achapel and a library. The room was filled with smoke and candles were its only source of light.Bernard was along in the room .. he started to wonder where the others were.

Suddenly a voice addressed him “Bernard, If you came here out of your own free will, then undressand approach the light” Bernard started to undress and walked up to a bunch of candles. It wasthen that he noticed a stairway behind an bookcase that had swung open. A stairway leading downto some form of cellar.

“Surrender yourself and prepare to embrace Morr …”

Bernard entered the cellar and saw 4 hooded figures standing on either sides of stone cut altar.One of the cultists wore a distinctively different set of robes - obviously father Petrus.

“Come forth Bernard … we are the fellowship of the shroud. What is your intention?”

Bernard, spoke “I wish to join the order”

“the order has agreed to embrace you in its ranks, … but be aware once you start your initiationthere is no way back. From this point onward you are sworn to secrecy upon penalty of death. Doyou agree and wilfully want to participate in this initiation ritual?”

“YES” replied Bernard firmly

“then place yourself on this altar and embrace MORR”

As Bernard took place on the altar the cellar filled up with chanting in the classical language, asermon chant. Suddenly the room filled with smoke, not the incense or candle smoke but a thickwhite smoke filled the room.

A dark voice shouted above the chanting “Morr, lord of dreams, take this initiate in the palm of yourhand and guide him with your love”.

Bernard noticed that he was getting sleepy, he tried to fight it but in the end he succumbed to thesmoke, the darkness the chanting.

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With still plenty of cash in his pocket, Bernard donated 50 gold to the church of Morr henceremoving all doubt that he would not be a faith full member of the cult of Morr … he did that to hidehis membership of the shroud from internal Morrite investigations.

At last the day came on which the party would set out to travel to Middenheim. Bernard met up withthem at the agreed location. All geared up and ready to go.

Documents

Agent of the Shroud