Epilogue: Kalyustar's Trial
"This vile conjurer has been using forbidden magic, we all have seen him! Summoning skeletal hands from the ground, spreading unnatural fear all around himself, leeching the life essence of the basest creatures!"
A murmur run through the mercenaries of the Gilded Hand Free Companies. Van Toorn's accusations were undeniable.
"Under the benevolent rule of our great God-king, there is only one punishement for such crimes" the Witch Hunter paused savouring his final triumph "Death at the stake!"
Van Toorn stood in the centre of the Broken Circle, Kalyustar in front of him, head bowed, the Skull cupped in his hands.
"That's enough, Witch Hunter" the Aurpards' pikes wavered, as the men parted to let Lord Captain Rodrik step into the Circle. The seasoned veteran took three measured steps, putting himself between the Witch Hunter and the wizard.
"Should I remember you that your Order has lost its powers over Venithya and its people the day your God-king reneged his oaths to protect the Realms and withdrew behind Azyr's Gates, now so long ago?"
Pieter van Toorn hissed in frustration. No matter how many efforts the Order of Azyr and the rest of the Devoted of Sigmar had spent, the Elders of the Gilded Hand and their generals remained reluctant allies to Sigmar's cause. And their grudge towards Sigmar was not entirely unjustified. He knew too well not to jeopardise such a fragile alliance.
"I beg your pardon, Lord Captain. Mine was just a reminder. But if you won't consider it, perhaps you should ponder what has the Gilded Hand gained by the actions of Kalyustar here in the Harrowmark".
"This, I will do" Rodrik turned his one good eye onto the wizard "Kalyustar of the Gilded Hand, by the authority bestowed onto me by the Elders' Council I demand you account for the reward due to the Free Companies gathered here and for your dues to the Gilded Hand's Vault."
Kalyustar remained silent. And so did the Skull.
"You took three Companies, claiming these woods will hold valuable alchemicals and artefacts. I was called here, bringing another Company with me, as this Azyrite accuses you of witchcraft. Respond. Now."
"Was not the Kharadron that the Witch Hunter wanted for their betrayal? Have I not delivered them?"
"This you did. Yet, the men are still awaiting for their pay. You have nothing in your hand to offer to the Elders. And with the orruks holding the Skydock, we are faced with a perilious Realmgate travel to return to Venithya. You have put valuable resources at risk for no apparent gain. Or there is one?"
Give him what he wants, Soulchemist. My Master appreciated your gift. He will reward you richly
"These men, and you too Lord Captain, are still alive because of me. If not a reward, doesn't that deserve mercy?"
"How so? We fought as you hid behind the walls of the Rose & Schyte. You owe your life to us."
Kalyustar paused for a moment, pondering the Skulls's latest words.
Yes, Soulchemist. Power and knowledge like you have never experienced, rather than the scorn of these miserables
"You are so limited in your understanding, Lord Captain. Force of arm is the only thing you understand. But it is souls that will win the coming wars. And I took that of the Kharadron leader, bartering it so that An'sec would spare all yours".
Silence fell over the Broken Circle. Even van Toorn was left speechless.
"It is gold you all want? Well, have it!" Kalyustar tossed a gleaming key at the Lord Captain feet "I hereby forfeit my position within the Gilded Hand and with it any claim on the contents of my laboratories. They are yours for you to do as you please and share with these men."
"So be it" the Lord Captain raised his hammer "Henceforth you, Kalyustar of Venithya, are no longer counted among the Gilded Hand. I accept your payment on behalf of these men which shall receive according to their efforts in your expedition. But for your dabbling with the vile An'sec, I exile you. By the authority of the Elders, you are never to set foot inside Venithya, under penalty of death!" the hammer fell, ringing loudly on the stones of the Broken Circle.
"He must die now!" shouted van Toorn "He's a traitor, a vile heretic!"
"Men, remove this fanatic from my presence" at once van Toorn was surrounded by levelled blades.
"You have no authority here! Nor any claim on Kalyustar's soul . That, is for him to keep."
You were right, Soulchemist. His understanding is so limited. We both know to whom every soul belongs
The Dead Shall Bar the Way
Pieter van Toorn had lost count of the days passed since An'sec misteriously left him for dead. He had tried to return to Wörtbad, only to find himself lost in the Harrowmark. He had started to wonder if he had died and his soul had been trapped for ever in that dreaded wood spanning 10,000 leagues in all directions. Then, one morning, he stumbled upon Karol. The Cuirassier had been searching for him. Even stranger, he had been sent by Kalyustar. Pieter kept trying to make sense of the wizard's actions as Karol led them toward Leechminster and from there to the Soulbridge Realmgate. With An'sec gone, Kalyustar seemed to have turned away from the dark path. Yet, the Witch Hunter could not bring himself to trust him. Only by trial, he could be sure that Kalyustar was free from taint.
Thick, dark clouds run over the pale Harrowmark sun as they reached the outskirts of Leechminster.
The Soulbridge was on sight when a cluth of Deadwalkers emerged from the woods, shambling towards them.
The two men felt the chilling touch of a dark shadow passing over the forest and lingering behind a crumbling mausoleum. The forest was filled with moans and creaks, deadwalkers emerging everywhere around them.
Pieter and Karol opened fire at the nearest Deadwalkers and barged past them to slam into the next. Suddenly, they were surrounded by the shambling undead.
"Split!" ordered van Toorn as single swipe of his Zweihander decapitated three zombies.
"Whatever is controlling them is behind the mausoleum, we must cut its ways out!"
Karol slashed another undead down, trumpled over the last one and made it through a copse, only to find his way barred by more zombies.
Skeletal hands erupted from the ground around Pieter, grabbing his legs as another wave fell on him.
More Deadwalkers emerged from the woods. Behind them, a stooped figure surrounded by a nimbus of amethyst light left the shelter of the mausoleum. They lurched towards Karol.
Pieter hacked at the zombies and skeletal hands still grabbing at his ankles. But more zombies were coming.
The largest group of zombies reached Karol and dragged him down from his saddle. Cackling madly, the Necromancer slammed his staff on the Curassier chest.
Pieter saw the man fell. "He fought valiantly, Sigmar will surely rescue his soul".
With this words on his lips, the Witch Hunter barged through the zombies barring his way and made it for the Soulbridge.
The Witch Hunt
"Other duties call me, Pieter of the Order of Azyr". The massive shape of Lord Ironfundson was silhouetted against the sickly light of the Haunted Gate as he spoke to van Toorn.
"But I have a mission for you. After capturing the Hurricane Bell, An'sec is channeling its power to unspeakable ends. Strike him now, and reclaim this land for Sigmar."
"My Lord..."
"Do not worry, child of Sigmar. I've sent for help. Farewell, Pieter van Toorn".
The Lord-Ordinator took a step into the Gate. His shape shrunk into the greenish glow until a short figure in a longcoat stood in front of van Toorn.
"Well, manling, it seems we go hunting together again!", the voice came through a thick, orange-dyed beard.
Van Toorn smiled. None of his hunt with Avram the Unforged had ever failed.
From a copse some distance away, Kalyustar's gaze followed the pair taking the path to the Hurricane Bell. For a moment, he thought that a subtle laugh came from the shadeglass skull hanging at his belt.
Not far from the Hurricane Bell, An'sec glided over a stone altar. The Book and candles were ready, his retinue stood guard around him. The time was nearing.
Avram and van Toorn had separated their forces in three groups, barring all escape routes. Still undetected, they advanced upon the ghast's ritual circle.
Suddenly, something stirred in the perennial dusk of the Harrowmark. The Withering Serpent had come, wispering to An'sec of the coming attack. His ghost riders darted to intercept Avram's party.
Karol the Cuirassier was the first to fall, shortly followed by Esteban the Piper and his Wörtbader companion. Avram and Lucius Scopos stood their ground.
Van Toorn and his men easily broke through the shambling Deadwalkers that had risen to oppose them.
As Avram banished a spectral ghost after another, van Toorn's pistol barked loud and then the Witch Hunter's zweihander plunged through An'sec.
More Hexwraiths swarmed around Avram. When the Unforged's Khazalid dirge died on his lips, An'sec flared with fell energies. His Balesword darted up, straight for van Toorn's heart.
On the very edge of life, van Toorn looked up at An'sec. He had almost condemned the ghast to a fate worse than true death. But An’Sec had prevailed. 'Shyish, the land of endings', the old saying came unbidded to his mind.
AN’SEC. RETURN TO NAGASHIZZAR. RETURN. THE CITADEL IS UNDER SIEGE. BRING THE WHITE LADY.
He heard the voice, a voice not intended for the hears of living men. And then, like dogs summoned to a master’s side, the Knight of Shroud and his servants were gone.
Darkness descended upon Pieter van Toorn.
Lands of the Dead
"The wizard is right, Pieter of the Order of Azyr", the deep voice rumbled like thunder above the heads of the two men.
"Lord Ironfundson! My sword is yours to command", van Toorn bowed his head and drew the sign of Sigmar over his chest.
For his part, Kalyustar stared up, his porcelain mask reflecting the electric glow surrounding the massive Lord-Ordinator.
"We have let the trickery of this ancient Enemy fool us. No matter how, this Wizard saw through the veil of lies and misdirection. So, Witch Hunter, by Sigmar's Will, put your indignation aside. Many signs brought me here to secure what the Enemy seeks. Round up your men and join the Kharadron. There is digging to do".
A hint of frustration marred van Toorn's barked orders to the Wörtbaders and Free Companies mercenaries.
'What now, Soulchemist?' the voice came through with barely contained spite 'Will you serve under this half-soul?'
Kalyustar stood, his eyes fixed on the Stormcast. He would serve, no matter what the voice said. For now, Ironfundson was the only thing that kept van Toorn from putting a silver bullet into his chest.
The digging and mining had gone on for days, duardin and humans sweating under the pale Harrowmark sun to stash the Realmstone that laced the grounds around the Hurricane Bell. As the teams prepared for another day of toil, the Bell started to toll, the sentinels posted by Ironfundson atop the cliff pointing towards the west. An'sec, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, had come, and brought the most unlikely of allies with him.
The Rotmoons swarmed around one of the Realmstone stashes, a manic Grot screaming orders in his high-pitched voice. The dead crawled out of their graves and secured another.
Van Toorn gathered all men he could and strode through a copse of trees, ready to intercept the advancing An'sec.
The Rotmoons waded through the Kharadron fire and some of the duardin themselves, but were met by Lord Ironfundson at the feet of the Hurricane Bell.
An'sec and his retinue of spirits charged forward, surrounding van Toorn and cutting him out from the rest of the human warriors.
Shooting from the hip, the Raido Othalas run to support Lord Ironfundson, but their numbers were matched by more orruks.
The Fancy Fencers and Wörtbaders mounted a stoic resistance around the fallen body of van Toorn. Look at his majesty, Soulchemist! A Grot was smart enough to see it... are you any less than a savage?
As An'sec's Balefire Blade had the best of the men fighting him, a shout erupted from Kalyustar's mouth "I'm not!". A barrage of arcane bolts hit the Knight of Shrouds.
With an anguished sigh, the shape of the regal spirit started to unraveled. Then, the band of gold around his finger glared. Dark light darted away and An'Sec reformed at the feet of the Hurricane Bell.
On the other side of the rocky outcrop, the Kharadron navigator joined Ironfundson and they finally managed to fell the Rotmoon's troggoth.
The last Wörtbader standing notched an arrow and let it loose, hoping it would be enough to banish the weakened spirit. An Arkanaut leapt down from the cliff, adding his shots and cutlass to the effort. With a chilling laughter, An'sec shrugged off both attacks and drained the duardin soul, replinishing himself.
An'sec's servants were drawn to the Realmstone stash watched by Kalyustar. Straining against the voice in his head, the wizard swung his staff and banished the spirtis.
The deranged Cave-Shaman stuffed a handful of mushrooms in his mouth. The spore cloud surrounding him coalesced in a huge maw and closed around Lord Ironfundson.
The fall of the Stormcast was hailed by a deafening Waaagh! scream and the Rotmoons rushed forward. An'Sec and the Cave-Shaman watched over the field with glee.
Kalyustar and the few duardin still standing retreated. The day was lost and only a handful of Realmstone could be saved.
So, Soulchemist... what were your little heroics worth for? What did service to Sigmar brought you?
