Diabolus revelatur

From the journal of Johanna Schwarz

10. Sigmarzeit, 2499

Your strengths are always also your weaknesses. If you have a strong right arm, you will inevitably end up relying on it on more occasions than you should, leaving your left flank underused and untrained. A clever opponent will not overlook such chinks in your armour. In many of the fights we have been in, the wood elf Talian has been our most deadly weapon, weaving webs of blood through the enemies with his dancing blades. And now, this strength is turned to weakness, as he is gone. He has left us during the night, without explanation, and I fear what the lack of his presence will signify.

Torgil is understandably heartbroken, although he tries – unconvincingly – to put on a brave face. Not only has his father figure left him, but he also did not deign to take him with him on whatever elven business made him abandon us at this dark hour. We will have words, if ever I lay eyes on him again.

We are deep in the den of vipers, and have pledged our course to brave it further, to try to stop Charlotte and her cabal’s ploys for this wreck of a city. The undead are swarming uncontested in the poor quarter, and the city’s forces have pulled back to a defensive stance, abandoning the assault on the graveyard. Ostensibly, this is to guard the second fleet, but I see Charlottes hand in this. She has convinced von Schlussel to adopt this strategy to further her own ends, leaving the specters in the graveyard free to complete their diabolical ritual, possibly ensuring the doom of the entire city. Without coordinated military effort, the colossus they are summoning would rampage uncontested through the city. This, in turn would surely precipitate the ruling council of the city to call to Salzenmund for help, making the capital vulnerable to whatever further nefarious schemes Charlottes dark Masters (or Mistresses?) are concocting.

No. The head of the snake must be removed, the plan toppled. I put it to the group that our only way forward is revealing Charlotte for what she is. Torgil stubbornly tries to argue that a targeted assassination against her is better. Again, his great strength – his near magical skill with a bow – makes him blind to the weakness of that stratagem. We would likely only get one shot at it, and should the attempt fail, her position would be immensely strengthened. Not only would the ruling council rally around her, and von Schlussel’s trust in her be deepened, but our position would become untenable. We would be pariahs, outlaws, cut off from doing anything, possibly branded as renegades throughout the region.

Charlottes strength must be made her weakness. She relies on her manipulation or magical control over von Schlussel to debilitate any opposition to the forces of chaos in Norden. Take that away, and the roles would be reversed, she would be the pariah, and our position would become one of strength. Thus, she must be unmasked in public, in front of as many powerful people as possible.

I have an idea, that the group agrees to: Via my research, I know that the vampiric lineage Charlotte is beholden to, is vulnerable to either silver or religious symbols of righteousness. We will have fashioned a silver medallion representing Morr’s symbol. If we can slip this over her head at a public function, she would be hurt by it, clearly showing her allegiance to the forces of chaos. Even governor von Schlussel would then have to renounce her. (Unless he is magically controlled by her, in which case he is for the fire.)

At this point, Torgil, possibly having learned that having a hammer doesn’t make every problem a nail, comes up with a very reasonable addition to the plan: He points out that even if we succeed, we need to make sure that the power vacuum left by Charlotte and possibly von Schlussels fall from grace, is filled in a way constructive to the defense of the city. So we need allies among the hobnobs ruling the city.

We arrange a meeting with our somewhat-ally Captain Seinen. She has a wealth of information, and proves to be quite useful. If this crisis turns out well, I shall remember to mention her as a possible contact, to my supervisors. It turns out the city is currently ruled by a war council, comprised of four individuals. The leader of the council is von Schlussel, of course. An aspiring leader is Baron Benjamin von Oppelt, the commander of the provincial military detachment. By all accounts a vainglorious buffoon, he is irked by his demotion after the second fleet project was initiated, being the primary force in the city before that. Nevertheless, his preferred strategy, an all out assault on the undead bastion, is probably the correct way, so he is a potential ally, at least if his powerhungry tendencies can be reigned in.

The third person is Magnus Friedheim, a minor noble in charge of the city milita forces. Apparently, he is a toadying sort, currently favoring whatever winds are prevailing, and thus in camp von Schlussel at the time. He will probably turn like a weather vane if we manage to sway the others. But he is clearly not to be trusted, so not someone we can approach as a possible ally.

The final piece of the puzzle is lady Steinhauser. She is the commander of the templars of Mannan, which makes her important both in a military and a spiritual sense. There is no love between Mannan and the forces of chaos, so she could potentially be swayed to see the grave danger the city is in.

After some deliberation, our plan is to try to strike an alliance with Steinhauser, reveal Charlotte, but try to save von Schlussel, unless he is permanently corrupted. A weakened von Schlussel, amenable to listen to us, could balance out von Oppelt, and ensure that the city doesn’t descend into pandemonium.

Seinen also provides us with the perfect opportunity to unmask the devil: A formal dinner after the war council’s meeting tomorrow. We will be smuggled in, posing as servants, which will provide an opportunity to slip the necklace around Charlottes corrupt bosom, in full view of the entire ruling elite in the city.

Sunniva manages to procure a suitable necklace from a silversmith at a reasonable price (as if money would be the stumbling block in this case). Seinen gives us a letter of introduction to lady Steinhauser, and we seek her out in her redoubt on a cliff just outside the city.

The lady is a formidable character, but a true warrior priest, and sees sense in the need to expose the forces of chaos and save the city, once we are able to explain the dire situation. She promises to support us, should we succeed in unmasking the corruption at court. I go to bed this evening feeling for the first time like we may have a chance to strike at the heart of evil.

I am not the praying type, but I do hope that both Morr, Sigmar and Mannan will spare us a glance tomorrow. Failing that, that Ranald will put his thumb on the scales of chance in our favor.

11. Sigmarzeit, 2499

As the evening of the feast arrives, we are all a bundle of nerves. Me, Sunniva, Eldur and Torgil will all be dressed as servants, our weapons and gear hidden behind draperies in the feast hall. Eldur has promised to let us know whether he can sense any magical corruption lingering in von Schlussel, although I am nervous that he will just say whatever Sunniva wants to hear.

Sunniva being the stealthiest amongst us, will have the task of slipping the necklace around her neck when we serve the first course. As we get ready to go, I hear her feverishly muttering prayers to Ranald under her breath. As I lean forward to serve the soup to one of the toffs, I see her setting down the soup bowl, and pulling the necklace from her pocket. For a short moment I fear Charlotte will see it and avert the disaster bearing her way, but with a snap the necklace is fastened. The result is immediate, and far better than any I could have hoped for. With a shriek, Charlotte stands up, and her skin literally catches fire where the necklace touches her.

I throw back my cloak, grab my sword from behind a drapery, and brandishing my witch hunter badge, I shout: “Behold: She is a witch. I invoke the authority of the witch hunters and command you to stop her!” Chaos erupts.

The guards in the room turn out to be cursed Death Jesters, and rush to defend Charlotte, who desperately tries to get away. Von Schlussel literally falls on his ass, and I hear Sunniva whispering to him that he needs to condemn Charlotte immediately. He seems genuinely shocked at the turn of events.

I charge forward, ignoring the stabbing from a guardsman’s halberd, and slash at Charlotte with my silvered sword. I hear her shriek in fury and hurt, while she starts summoning chaotic energies. Just as she seems ready to unleash them, a silvertipped arrow fired true from Torgil’s bow strikes her clear in the heart. She cries out, and melts into a pool of ashes before our eyes, leaving no one in doubt as to whether she is a thrall of chaos. The remaining guards are overpowered or flee.

In the ensuing debacle, the war council is reconvened. Von Schlussel, badly shaken and shamed, is very amenable to our suggestions, and von Oppelt is mollified by appealing to his “grand abilities” as a general. I implore them to rally all the forces available, both artillery, soldiers, wizards and priests, in a concerted push to crush the undead horde. Lady Steinhauser is true to her word, and backs our play. The gods smiled on us! Finally, the conniving vampiric witch has met her end!

12. Sigmarzeit, 2499

A clarion call of a trumpet rallies the troops to their stations on a cold, crisp morning. On our side: Cannons mustered from the fleet, halberdiers, swordsmen, warrior priests, and a handful of sky wizards and priests of Morr and Mannan. Guarding the fleet, a detachment of militia under Piet’s command. We are leading the charge down the main thoroughfare to the poor quarters, alongside von Oppelt.

A thundering barrage of artillery precedes our advance, to suppress the gruesome horde awaiting us. The first skirmishes with flocks of undead proves simple enough, dispatched readily by disciplined soldiers. But as we near the graveyard, a horrible sound erupts. A shriek like a thousand souls wailing from the bowels of hell, accompanied by the sound of a fleet of ships crashing into coastal cliffs. Rising from the ground before us is a monstrosity, easily two hundred feet tall, made of countless corpses and pieces of wreckage. The colossus has arrived – the ritual is complete!

Hundreds of soldiers break rank and flee immediately. Me and some others are able to rally some of them, trying to form a disciplined retreat, so we are not cut down by the milling thousands of corpses still roaming the streets. We are somewhat successful, but powerless against the giant crushing its way through the quarter. But this monster’s strength is also its weakness. It believes it is unstoppable, and is too eager to crush us, so it advances straight down the main street, in pursuit of our retreating forces. And straight into the line of fire from our cannons and wizards and priests.

A veritable inferno of cannonballs, lightning bolts, storms and Eldur’s conflagration descends on the beast, blasting pieces big as houses from it. It staggers forward, still convinced it is an unstoppable juggernaut, but barrage after barrage crushes into it. It shakes, it staggers, it falls to its knees. Still, it tries to crawl forward, but now the defenders of men know victory is in our grasp. A final volley slams into the creature, and its head explodes into dust, and with a creak as a large ship sinking, it collapses to the ground, still as the grave. A cheer like a thunderstorm erupts from the army, which surges forward, bowling into the milling zombies, who fall like wheat before Morr’s scythe.

Hours later, it is all over. The undead specters apparently gave all their essence creating the colossus, and are just husks on the ground. So is Vadim, Charlotte’s “scholar”, lying as a dried-up corpse at the center of the ceremonial mound. The city though, is in a poor state. Thousands of people are dead, the entire poor quarter is a mound of rubble, and hundreds of brave soldiers gave their lives. I find it hard to enjoy our victory, staring out on the devastation wrought. My only solace is that what we averted would have been immeasurably worse.