Well, actually, if someone wants to speak to Baron Manfred, now might be a good opportunity. Over there...
he points at a massive tower dominated by an obscenely large horn that is the Tower of Magnus and at its feet are the barracks, the place where Baron Manfred "resides" at the moment.
Herr Flechter, you know more about this than we do. Would it help if we try to talk to the Baron? Or will our involvement with you and by assosiation with Lord Rikkard complicate any further action and investigation regarding the Skaven?
"I don't see any advantage to be gained at this time, while I might be received, it would be under suspicion as to how I was aiding my cousin in his pressing his claim. And any mention of Skaven would simply be used to further their advancement by portraying my family as insane. In time I may be able to devise an approach but I've been in town only a few hours, I have much to learn about the local situation." Franz looks a bit frustrated at the lack of time, and the speed of events, assuming the event even happened.
Vern looks at the tower then back to you
So?...
Marieke crosses her arms and frowns, following the conversation , but thoroughly uninterested in the political implications of meeting the Baron.
Ignoring Vern ,she turns to Rangnir and Fernis "So, it's just us then..." and begins marching across the courtyard towards the Baron's tower.
"That's not a good idea Mareike , just cause more harm than good. But if you're determined, I won't stop you. You might try talking to the Priest of Sigmar in town first." Franz turns to Vern, "Back to the estate, for me. You're free to attend to your duties." "Good day Master's Fernis and Rangnir, good fortune as well." Franz goes to attend to that which had a ghost of a chance, but not much.
Does Mareike heed Franz' words or does she still walk towards the barracks?
Unexpectedly Marieke pauses at Franz' suggestion. Seeming unsure, she says, mostly to herself "The clergy wouldn't see 'me', would they?"
For a moment, unseen demons plague her thoughts with doubts and worry and fear and she looks all of her 17 years.
But then she takes a deep breath and her face hardens into the zealot's scowl the group knows all too well and says "By Sigmar's hammer, they will see me!" then takes a look around and spies the cathedral.
Turning to her "kin", she asks "Will you accompany me , your words would give weight to my own."
Vern arches an eyebrow and points down the narrow street
That's the way to the cathedral...Herr Flechter, before we go to Lord Rikkard, may I ask if you have some spare minutes? I have to collect the lord's costume.
Fernis nods knowing the girl will go regardless. The last thing they need on their hands is a dead girl and a dwarf who has failed act in his daughter's best interest.
"Of course, Master Hendrick, your duties should not be neglected. Please go about them as you need, I'll be fine on my own, or in this good company. I'll see you back sometime later today, when I return." Fran nods a polite dismissal of Vern. He turns to the others, "I'd like to meet the local priest myself, much has happened, and far to quickly, I too could use the guidance of Sigmar and his earthly vessel." Franz takes off in the direction of the cathedral.
The Cathedral square is a rather wide place and on most day's of the week colourful market stands occupy it - just like today.
Citizens haggle with vendors, merchants discuss the influence of Morrslieb on their trades, Sigmarites collect alms - it looks like the perfectly typical Imperial city besides the green silhouette at the sky.
The cathedral itself is an impressive building, higher than any of the buildings surounding the square and easily overshadowing the burgomeister's residence.
Fernis looks for hints of dwarf hands having play in the construction.
Walking up to the cathedral, Mareike is overcome with fervor. Seeing this huge edifice in honor of Sigmar, almost makes her weep.
"It's so beautiful" she says, voice breaking with emotion.
Isn't it?!
you hear a deep bass voice from your right. The owner of the voice, a man wearing a dark-brown leather frock and wide leather hat leans in the shadows of a tavern's porch, next to an open window, close enough to hear the drunkards' talks. A witch hunter by his clothing and the hammer tattoos on the backs of his hands.
Markus Reiter's the name...you don't look like you're from Ubersreik, child.
while his voice is friendly by all means, the ice-grey eyes have a frightening cold in them.
----
At least the fundaments of the cathedral look like dwarven masonry was involved in there construction, very sturdy made from squat granite stones.
Fernis smiles at the quality of the stonework finding this town more endearing by the moment....minus the rats that is. But so is life and there is money and honor to be had. Seeing the witch hunter approach, Fernis takes a deep breath, "Oh boy.", he thinks. The last time he worked with one these fellows an entire town got burned to the ground,not that it bothered him as it was rather corrupted and a manling village in any case. "Hunter of Sigmar's fallen. Fernis Stoutanvil.", Fernis hails the man clasping his forearm in the greeting typical of men in their shared trade.
Mareike almost jumps out of her skin at the sound of the man's voice so close. Her axe came up slightly before she realized that the form in the shadows wasn't a demon but a man...a witch hunter.
Mouth a little agape, she watched Fernis confidently introduce himself to the man, she felt compelled to do the same.
Her insides trembling, sure that those cold, cold eyes could see all that was impious and wanting within her, she nonetheless brought her faculties together enough to extend her own arm as had Fernis.
"Marieke, Sigmar's anvil" she says, somehow meeting the cool judgement of those grey eyes.
"Marcus, mah daughter, Marieke. Her courage and devotion saw the smiting of many chaos cultist whom had defiled a shrine to yer lord. No doubt she will follow in yer ilk's foot steps one day."
Honored hunter of Sigmars enemies, I am Rangnir, son of Hrotgyr, son of Thragnolv, heir and son of Revgard of the house Gudrunson.
Nodding respectfully to the Witchhunter, "Franz Flechter, cousin to Lord Rikkard Aschaffenberg, of the line of Baron Flechter, graduate of the Heavenfall Pistolkorps Academy. Honored to meet you, Templar of Sigmar Marcus. How may we assist you today?" Now is he a canny templar or just one of those that desire only bloodshed?
Reiter raises an eyebrow and eyes Mareike closely
A human adopted by dwarfs who calls herself Sigmar's Anvil?
while you can't say why or how, you suddenly feel that the witch hunter's whole aura has changed. Invisible but undeniable, there's something about his eyes, as if they were burning from within...but after a second the sensation is gone and Reiter smiles
A fitting name...in the future maybe.
then he turns to Franz and nods
Another Aschaffenberg? I heard your cousin has good chances to become new lord of Ubersreik...a position of great influence and wealth. And yes, I could really need some assistance.
his gaze hardens as he stares into the distance for a moment
Have you already visited the temple of Verena at the back of the cathedral?
Rangnir looks puzzled at the Witchhunter, then at Franz.
Squirming in fear under the witch hunter's gaze, Marieke nonetheless felt honored by his attention, savouring the intimidating contact. In a breath, the moment was over and she stood there her mouth opening and closing, not sure whether to take the man's words as admonition or compliment...or both.
Somehow finding her voice, she says "We haven't been to the cathedral yet... we were on our way there just now. " she frowns , trying to remember her catechism ,then remembering that Verena was wife to Morr, goddess of Truth.
Not sure why the witch hunter would recommend that shrine, she says uncertainly "Surely I should pay my respects to Sigmar first?"
That you should...still you should visit the Temple of Verena, and walk through it with open eyes...you'll be my eyes for that matter since they didn't allow me to enter it...
Reiter audibly grinds his teeth and his knuckles turn white
I feel that they have something in there, something they have to keep away from prying eyes...I have to know what it is.
Dwarves are intense in there search for most anything they feel warrants their attention, but something about this man seems to go far beyond what even Fernis feels is natural. Again eyes must look ahead while watching behind.
Franz nods and says, "A cousin on my mother's side. And yes, he is such a candidate."
Franz is concerned but intrigued by the witchhunter's interest. "I'm loath to interfere with the actions of the gods and their chosen representatives, may I ask what specifically what you suspect, in this distressed time? That could focus my attention to better serve Sigmar and his agent. Still, I have no objection to prayers to the Lady of Learning and see what is to be seen openly." Franz wait the man's answer.
Mareike stares at the witch hunter as he reveals his concern and ....anger. Her eyes blinking, she can't really think of a response right away, her mind churning.
Her thoughts are interrupted by Franz' comment and question. Without realizing, Mareike snaps a quick glare in Franz' direction... then her own suspicious nature takes over and she focuses her gaze on the witch hunter...waiting.
A book...a very vile book and if my informants are to be trusted, they have the guts to present it openly! The book is bound in black leather, but in the corner of your eye, when you don't look directly at it, it shimmers in all the rainbow's colours. I will not tell you what is inside the book, but I give you my word that it could corrupt this city within few weeks...these ignorants in the temple claim that knowledge of all kinds is valuable and that they have an eye on whom wants to take a look at the book...but they are feeble and if there's really someone who wants to take the book I doubt they are able to hinder him.
Reiter explains angrily and every passerby who feels his glare quickly looks away and gives you a wide berth.
So you encountered that book before?
"Any why would these people bring such a book into Sigmar's cathedral?" Mareike asks , horrified.
Because it is not Sigmar's cathedral alone...the back-portion of the building consists only of the Temple of Verena...a stupid decision if you ask me...and no, I haven't encountered the book before, but I have read about it...dangerous and seductive it is...and surely the home of these wisdom and knowledge-cravers is not a good place for such a thing to be.
Her face set in resolve, Mareike nods to Reiter "I'll go see if they have this book... what should I do with it if I see it? Destroy it?" she asks.
"Easy,girl. This is a delicate situation in any culture let alone as one as impetuous as yer own. This city already feels of powder keg an' we don't need ta be throwin' matches. We have a great deal on our plate, but remember one peril at a time lest they all succeed."
No, child, you are no official member of the Church of Sigmar or my order. You cannot destroy it...but you could do me the favor to check whether my assumption is right and they really have that book there. I just need to be sure, before I will kick their door in.
Reiter says with a now rather fatherly voice.
Franz nods firmly, "Yes, a delicate touch is needed, those with their strongest faith in the Goddess of Knowledge, may be clinging too much on that but they have their place in the Empire, and it's protected by His Majesty's Law." He turns to the witchhunter, "I have no problem with seeing what is to be seen; knowledge, holy or mundane, possessed by Verena is to be shared. If aught is unholy then it needs to be cleaned by fire as the law provides. I'll be happy to take a look and pay my respects to Verena and tell you all I see."
Franz looks back at the others, "It might be best if you sought the advice on our current task, while I offer prayers to Verena, my parents instilled a genuine respect for learning in me, that did not, unfortunately, give me any ability for it. My father would be better for this ... wish he were here, I could use his wisdom now. Ha! He'd laugh if he could hear me now, all the trouble I gave him. Still, I think I'm the best for it." Franz nods again respectfully at the witchhunter and marches off to the temple.
Marieke's face is a war between zealous intent and respect for Fernis' regard. Her inner battle becomes moot with Franz' statement. Somehow looking both relieved and angry at the same time, she watches Franz stalk away to the temple.
Blowing air out of her lungs, she turns and give a respectful nod to the witch hunter then follows Franz.
Then we meet again here. Should you need our help, you know where to look for us.
Rangnir nods toward Franz, then turns to the Whitchhunter and bows slightly.
Fernis stares at the man with a bit of scrutiny and before following on with Rangnir. The worst kind of manling, those., he thinks to himself as he walks away.
A cynical observer might be inclined to think that the Temple of Verena was just a parody of the grand cathedral of Sigmar. It only consists of one of the small side halls of the larger building and is located at its back end.
The portal is closed and locked, however, visitors are greeted by a polished brass sign
Knock if you seek wisdom and knowledge
Franz regard the sign with a raised eyebrow, then shrugs. He knocks firmly with a measured cadence three times and waits the result.
As Marieke draws nearer to the magnificent cathedral, she feels as if all the shadows and fears are scoured away , a feeling of euphoria coming over her.
At the bottom of the steps leading up, she falls to her knees face raised and begins to ascend the steps on her hands and knees, a supplicant to Sigmar's grace.
Rangnir stays a step behind Mareike, admiring this stonework of men and respectfully adapting to the girls pace.
After a long moment, the door is opened from the inside by a freindly looking bald priest wearing orange garments and carrying a book strapped to his belt.
Welcome to the temple of Verena, seekers of wisdom! What brings you to this home of knowledge and written words?
Franz bows respectfully to the priest, "A need for solace, coming from the path of discerning perception. Lacking the wit myself to see the way, I seek the guidance of those so dedicated. In these difficult times ... Ah, where are my manners? I am Franz, House Fletcher, supplicant, accepting your welcome." Franz leans forward slightly, in the manner of someone expecting to be invited in.
The priest's smile widens a bit as you introduce your station
Herr Flechter, it's an honour...please, enter...
The interior of the temple is cramped and stuffed with shelves containing tomes, books, parchments and maps of all kinds. And even though at first glance there seems to be no order, there is not a single dust particle on the high shelves.
The priest guides you through the first row of shelves and stops in front of an oversized iron-clad tome
Hans Starkarm's Ars Bellum, the most comprehensive book about Imperial warfare...I thought that might be of interest for you.
----
Rangnir hesitates to leave Franz alone with a possibly dangerous heretical book, but he respects his wishes, although he is dead set to stay on the plaza, where he can possibly hear if there is any trouble brewing in there.
Fernis, why don't you accompany your daughter to the temple. I will stay here for a while. I still need to get a feel of the human city, now, as it is in such grave danger, more then ever.
Mareike pauses for a moment once she gains the top of the stairs, on her knees, gazing up at the towering cathedral looming over her.
Standing she doesn't even notice the pain from the scratches she incurred upon her knees.
Taking a deep breath the pushes the large wooden door and enters the Sigmar-centric side of the cathedral.
"That is a journey for her to make. I must stand by my oath to watch over you. Fail in that and I lose her too." The weight of Fernis words hang with seriousness of what faces an oathbreaker.
The inside of the monumental building is cool and bathed in a greyish twilight. Sigmarites, priests and acolytes stand together in small groups and either help worshippers, discuss religious matters or follow mor mundane tasks.
While the central aisle is solely dedicated to religious matters, the western aisle is used as a library and the eastern aisle consists of a mixture of arsenal and armory.
The high altar at the end of central aisle is made of a square block of antique-white marble on which an errected oversized warhammer stands. A laureated skull adorns the front of the block.
Franz looks at the rare volume in appreciation. "Excellent, some lecturers based their presentation on this but I could never afford a copy, so I did not read the whole copy. Is the story true that General Starkarm died before the final edit leaving the original annotations incomplete?" Franz tries to win the priest's confidence, while indeed being genuinely interested.