What Price Glory - Chapter 3 : Departure From Kellberg

The sun rose remarkably slow on the morning of the next day. Schmidt put the thought out of his head, dismissing it as a figment of his imagination. Talks with Sigmund and the traveller Lukas had given the witch-hunter some valuable information about the location of Von Spieldorf.

"Heinrich," spoke Schmidt as the warrior-priest approached him, "tell the men to get ready, we are leaving in half an hour."

Heinrich nodded and made his way towards the tavern. Inside he saw the now familiar faces of six men. All of them had a personal score to settle with the criminal Von Spieldorf and they were all eager to bring the man to justice.

"Ah, father," spoke a giant of a man, "will we finally get a chance to repay that dog Helmut?"

Heinrich flinched. He hated it when people addressed him by his clerical title. He looked over to the man. A dark brown shirt covered the muscled chest of the man. A large scar ran across the back of his right hand, evidence of his run-in with Von Spieldorf and his men. They had killed his wife and son when they raided his house for reasons unknown.

"Easy Adam," Heinrich said to the man, "let us wait for the orders of captain Schmidt."

Laughter echoed through the tavern. Three men sat in the far corner around an old table. The man in the middle stood up as Heinrich walked over to them. A blister on the man's face shimmered in the light of an old candle that slowly burned on a small plate. It was Gustaff.

"I know you have some problems with the captain, Gustaff," Heinrich spoke harshly as he pointed his finger at the man, "but that does not mean you have the right to mock him in his absence."

Realising he had lost his cool Heinrich quickly lowered his arm and gestured Gustaff to sit down.

"Now, I can count on you three to follow the captain's orders today?" he said to the men at the table, "for we will need all the help we can get, who knows what horrors Von Spieldorf will use to protect himself from the righteous justice of Sigmar."

The two men on either side of Gustaff nodded quietly. It was almost an injustice to call these two men. They had just left childhood behind them, although somewhat forced. Hans and Rigter had lost their father to a mob of undead creations and they had sworn to avenge his death.

Gustaff snorted, "if the choice is between obedience and the righteous flame of Sigmar, as our beloved captain calls it, I guess I can follow his orders for once."

Heinrich turned round and walked back to Adam. He looked around, but the remaining two men were nowhere to be found. He shook his head and sat down on a chair next to the large man.

"Does anybody know where Gunter and Wilhelm are?" asked the warrior-priest.

The three men at the table raised their shoulders, with Gustaff making a remark about the two probably being out chasing the women. Everyone in the tavern laughed for a moment, a welcome change to the tension that normally hung in the air during such journeys.

"I believe they went to the outside wall to have a word with the guards," said Adam, pointing out the window towards the large wooden fortifications.

Heinrich thanked him and made his way out of the tavern. Halfway to the wall he heard Schmidt behind him bickering with the village elder. The warrior-priest shook his head once again at the witch-hunter's inability to control himself. Normally he would have walked over to Schmidt and calm him down, but he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Gunter bid him good morning as he arrived at the wall. He and Wilhelm had apparently been talking to the guards about what sort of creatures tended to wander through the area around Kellberg. 'Field research' as Wilhelm called it. Heinrich chuckled as he heard the remark, but he felt sad about the sheer eagerness the two men had to kill something.

But he could not blame them. Both Gunter and Wilhelm had lost a child to that blasphemous Von Spieldorf. A loss that could only be repaid in blood.

"Could you two try to bring the argument between captain Schmidt and elder Sigmund to an end while I go round up the rest of the men?" he asked the two.

Heinrich sped back to the tavern as he heard two more raised voices enter the verbal fray behind him. Gunter and Wilhelm were faithful followers of the no nonsense approach, something they sadly also used when talking.

Inside the tavern the men had gathered their equipment and were ready to go. Heinrich followed them outside, paying the owner of the tavern for the expenses as he passed him.

The argument had stopped, but only because of the fact that Gunter and Wilhelm had started fighting. The men had been a bit too fanatical in their verbal protest to Schmidt and Sigmund that one had accidentally insulted the other.

Schmidt jumped in between the two and yelled they should cease their foolish actions.

"What on earth are you two doing?" screamed the angry witch-hunter.

Before either of them had a chance to reply Heinrich called them over and told them to get their equipment from the tavern. As the two walked off Schmidt stepped up to Heinrich.

"Are the men ready for departure?" he asked the warrior-priest.

"Yes Waldemar, Gunter and Wilhelm are getting their equipment as we speak," he replied, "we can leave as soon as they get back."

"I will tell the men what we shall do today before we set off," said Schmidt, "it is important that they know exactly what to do."

The sound of stamping feet heralded the return of Gunter and Wilhelm. Schmidt gestured them to come closer and listen.

"Listen up men!" he spoke loudly, "we shall leave for the Garden of Remembrance shortly."

The men looked at each other. They had heard rumours of a place by that name. Vile creature lived there. What had once been a beautiful garden filled with flowers from all over the Old World had been turned into a cradle for the filthy spawns of Chaos.

"I want you to have your weapons ready," the witch-hunter continued, "who knows what Von Spieldorf may have waiting for us there."

The men collected their weapons as they left the village. Schmidt raised his sword high, sunlight reflecting of its polished blade. The mercenaries followed the example of their captain, roaring in defiance of Chaos. Heinrich simply folded his hands and prayed they would make it out alive.

"Ah, master is going to like this," thought a small hunched man as he watched the group from behind a bush beside the road, "they seem eager to die."

He patted himself on the chest as he sneaked off into the shadows, "well done Lukas, well done."