Massacre in Marienburg (Warhammer) by David Bishop

By David Bishop

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The trio coughed and gasped, but took less time to recover than before, having got used to the acrid aroma. They peered inside the urn. “Sweet Shallya,” Belladonna whispered. Holismus turned away to vomit. Silenti’s face went white, and he whispered a quiet prayer to himself. Inside the urn was a crumpled human body. It had been stuffed into the pottery container without care or compassion, shoved inside with brute force. Bones had been snapped into pieces to ensure the corpse fitted into the urn, jagged white shards stabbing out through punctured flaps of skin.

Kurt felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, a sure sign of imminent danger. The commander gestured at the young man. “This is my nephew, Erasmus Potts—my sister’s boy. ” When Kurt still didn’t reply, the commander smirked. “Very good, Schnell. I see my faith in your cunning and intelligence was not misplaced. ” Kurt couldn’t suppress a frown at this sly comment. His father was Erwin Schnell, one of Altdorf’s most legendary generals, best known by the nickname Old Ironbeard. But Kurt had not seen his father for years.

Any other day I’d suggest he needs his head examining,” the sergeant observed. ” “I agree,” Belladonna said. “Everything points to a malevolent force being let loose in Suiddock, maybe across the city. ” Kurt nodded, his face a grimace of anger. “You’re both right, I’m sure of it too. ” *** The Keeper had been praying since dawn, his eyes fixed on the empty sockets of the skull, watching the steady trickle of crimson seeping from each of the hollow orbits. 45 Sixteen hours on bended knee was enough to cripple the most faithful of believers, at least temporarily, but the Keeper did not surrender to his cramp and exhaustion until he heard the distant chimes of midnight.

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