A WOLF's HUNGER
By Lupos
(aka Enrique Durand) [email protected]
Mouse slipped quietly out the back of the
Twisted Goat, as was his custom. It had been a profitable
night for the youth. He had hired on with a group of
Marienburger mercenaries, agreeing to lead them into the
sewers beneath the cursed city. Despite his tattered
clothing and youthful appearance, Mouse was an
accomplished guide to the catacombs under the city's
streets. In fact, there was none better. He smiled as he
patted the heavy purse beneath his dingy gray robes. The
rich Marienburger captain had paid him in advance,
securing his services for the next day. Mouse had nearly
laughed aloud when Omikhee, the Goat's owner, introduced
him to the band's leader, an effeminate fop in gold and
scarlet silks with a royal blue sash. The thought of this
fellow, Baron von something-or-other, trudging through
the muck, and worse, in the sewers was hilarious. Mouse
could imagine what the fine silks would look like,
stained and splattered, after a day of exploring the
catacombs. But the gold was real, as had been the
unexpected determination in the man's eyes. It seems the
Baron was eager to find a treasure, belonging to the
Countess of Marienburg, rumored lost in the depths below
Mordheim.
"By returning that treasure, or at
least most of it, to her excellency, I assure myself of a
place at court," the Baron had said, adding with a
leer, "And there is no telling what other doors her
gratitude might open." A soft noise ahead caused
Mouse to stop immediately. Dropping to all fours, and
pressing himself tightly against the wall, he scoured the
area for any sign as to the source of the sound. The
noise had been like that made by a soft leather shoe on
the pavement. Mouse felt safe, since he knew that it
would be difficult for anyone to see him, and besides, he
was only a few yards from a sewer grate. Once he was in
the safety of the sewers, Mouse knew no one could
threaten him. He was not ignorant of the many dangers
below, but years of coexisting with them had made him
confident he could deal with them. He thought he detectd
some motion ahead, and sidled a bit closer to the grate,
fingering both of his black lotus-covered daggers beneath
his outer robe. Though Mouse was sure of his ability to
take care of himself, the poison provided a measure of
added security. "Never fear, Mouse," a deep
voice growled from the shadows. "I have no wish to
harm you, so please put away your weapons." At the
first word, Mouse had drawn his blades. "H-h-how can
you see me?" Mouse stuttered from where he
crouched beside a wall. "And w-w-who are you?"
"As to the first, suffice to say I can see where
others do not. Besides," the deep voice chuckled,
"the sewer-stench upon you would be enough to give
you away to a blind man."
Mouse raised his right arm and sniffed himself, but
smelled nothing.
"And as to the second..." The source of the
voice seemed to materialize as if from the very air as
suddenly there stood before Mouse a cowled figure wrapped
in a tattered, but still serviceable, gray wolfskin
cloak.
Mouse recognized the man instantly.
Earlier in the evening, in the Twisted Goat, they had
exchanged words. Mouse had made an innocent joke, and
this guy had gone nuts, ranting about hungry wolves, or
some such nonsense. Mouse gripped his daggers more
tightly, thinking the man might want to continue their
"discussion." The Grey Sage had warned him to
be leery of this man.
"Little Mouse," the stranger
chuckled again, "I mean you no harm, as I
said," and here the voice grew a little colder,
"And my word is stronger than steel. I apologize for
my outburst earlier. I prefer to be alone, and being
among crowds for too long makes me uneasy and
tense."
"I u-u-understand."
"No, my young friend, I fear you do not. But if you
grant me the favor of your attention for the duration of
my story, you will."
Mouse sensed the man's need to share his tale.
"What shall I call you?" he asked.
"Good," the man said, "You have dropped
that stammering. In truth, it was becoming annoying, as
well as unnecessary, for only a fool would believe an
ordinary urchin could afford to coat his blades with
poison."
Mouse stared at the man, wondering how he knew. He seemed
ordinary enough, though there was something odd about the
way he carried himself. "My name is Lupos, at least,
that is what I call myself now. But it was not always
so."
"I was once known as Heinrich, my family name I will
not reveal, in order that my condition should not bring
them shame. I was a Wolf Priest of Ulric, and perhaps
still am."
Here Lupos paused, then said, "Mouse, I shall now
reveal to you what I am, that you should know how the
tale ends, before I continue. Prepare yourself."
Mouse gasped as Lupos pulled off his cowl. Though the
face he saw framed in the wild mane of gray hair was that
of a man, it was also that of a wolf. The eyes were
certainly human, though of a shade of blue that reminded
Mouse of the skies just before a storm. Had that been all
Mouse saw, he would have thought the man striking, but
rather unremarkable. However, that was not all. Beneath
those eyes, Lupos had a wolf's snout, and as he opened
his mouth to speak, Mouse saw rows of razor-sharp fangs.
A medallion depicting Ulric in his wolf-form hung from
around Lupos' neck.
"I entered Ulric's service at the age of 14, and
after years of study as an acolyte at the temple in
Middenheim, I was named to the priesthood. In fact, my
ascension was approved by the high priest himself."
"I was on fire for my god! Why so fervent, you
ask?" Here the voice became almost a whisper.
"Alas, it was not so much a faith in Ulric as a
hatred of Sigmar that first drove me. You see, my elder
sister, Isolde, caught the eye of a young witch hunter
adept named Ignatius. And how not, she was the
personification of beauty. When she entered a room, her
smile and golden tresses alone were enough to light
it."
"However, she did not return Ignatius' affection,
and when she refused his advances, he accused her of
witchcraft and heresy. The band of so-called 'Templars of
Sigmar' that Ignatius was travelling with saw fit to
investigate. My sister died during the course of those
'investigations,' though the head witch hunter ultimately
ruled her innocent of the charges against her. When she
died, I swore that I would see those responsible die in
ways as horrible as those they use so freely on
others."
"What better way to battle Sigmar's 'chosen ones'
than to become a priest of his arch-rival Ulric. Living
near Middenheim, I was already a follower of Ulric, but
at that moment I dedicated my life to him. Little did I
know then what a toll that decision would exact."
"Over the years, my faith in Ulric grew, and I began
to believe in him for his sake, not for my own. My hatred
for Ignatius grew as well, and now encompasses all those
who seek to further their cause through the pain and
suffering of the innocent. Do not misunderstand, Mouse.
Chaos is evil, and we must be ever vigilant to not fall
into its trap, but killing and torturing those who have
done nothing wrong, in the name of 'righteousness,'
is evil as well."
"Finally, after 12 years of service, I was initiated
into the priesthood of Ulric. What a glorious day that
was! I walked down the central aisle of the temple, tall
and proud in my blue and white robes, covered by a pure
white wolfskin cloak. As the high priest tapped my
shoulders with his hammer, I felt the spirit of Ulric
infuse my very being. It was not the first time I was to
feel his presence, but it was the most pure."
"It was obvious to all at the temple that I did not
have the temperament to stay and perform the ritual
duties of a priest. So I was ordained as a wandering
preacher, travelling the Empire, spreading the truth of
Ulric, while always seeking word of the whereabouts of
Ignatius and the others."
"During my years of travel, I heard rumors of his
presence, and also learned that he had advanced in the
service of his god as well, and now headed his own band
of killers. Over time, I was able to exact my revenge on
a number of those responsible for Isolde's death, though
not Ignatius. I shall not weary you with the details,
suffice to say they suffered. Much. Several claimed to
not even remember her. Charlatans and murderers!"
Mouse recoiled at the ferocity in Lupos' voice. Though he
was no longer afraid of this wolf-man, he could not bring
himself to remain completely calm in his presence.
"When word reached me of the cataclysm in Mordheim I
was ecstatic. Surely this was Ulric's doing, raining
death upon the decadent
followers of Sigmar. I resolved to travel here, though I
am not entirely sure of what drove me. I joined a small
band of warriors who sought wealth and fame. Fools, all
physical gain is temporary. But, as they were heading in
the same direction as I, I joined them, for even the most
foolish know there is strength in numbers. The trek took
us six months, as we were delayed and sidetracked by
other adventures. My
impatience grew as we neared the ruined city, as did my
respect for my companions. True, they were short-sighted,
but they were honorable, and they listened when I spoke
of Ulric. The youngest, a lad named Klaus, especially
so."
"When at last we arrived on the outskirts of the
city, I could barely contain myself. I wanted to rush
into the city immediately, so sure was I that within
Mordheim's walls I would find the answer to what drove me
here. But, I heeded the advice of Ungrim, the captain of
the band with which I travelled."
" 'Wait, my impetuous friend,' he said as he laid
his hand upon my shoulder. 'First we must gather
information, and prepare, so we shall not be caught
unaware when we enter that foul ruin.' Though he was
right, I wanted to tear his hand from me and charge into
the nearest gate. But his calm voice, and the imposing
sight of the dark and brooding city wall stayed my
hand."
"Since it was late, we camped for the evening, and
sought more comfortable accomodations the next day. We
ended up at the Twisted Goat, and from there, we scouted
what we could of this dead city, seeking any information
that would be of use in our exploration."
"It was during this time that I learned why I was
here. Ignatius and his band of cutthroats were here!
Apparently, he had been drawn here as well, since the
corruption and chaos in the wake of the comet's blow
presented him many opportunitoes for
'purification.'"
"While the other members of our band prepared for
our expedition into the ruined city proper, I became
obsessed with carrying out my plan for vengeance. Why
else would Ulric bring me here, if not to allow me to
kill Ignatius?"
Mouse shifted his weight, as his leg had fallen asleep
while sitting and listening to Lupos' story.
"My young friend," Lupos said, "I can see
you are uncomfortable during my long tale. Follow me, I
know a place not far from here where we can sit, and I
have some food there as well."
Lupos walked off, and Mouse did not hesitate to follow
him. Listening to Lupos speak, he had come to the
realization that though the body before him was
frightening, within it was a mind and soul every bit as
human as Mouse himself. Lupos led Mouse down a couple of
blocks before turning into an alley. Though Mouse could
see no exit from the alley, he followed, sure that the
larger man had a trick up his sleeve. As if on cue, Lupos
moved aside a small pile of rubble, then disappeared!
When Mouse approached, he saw a small opening, and heard
Lupos' voice. "Come in, little Mouse. We shall
continue my tale in here." When he crawled through
the hole, Mouse entered a small chamber. There were some
blankets scattered around, and Lupos motioned him to sit
on one.
"Not the best accomodations, but they serve the
purpose. I have several such lairs scattered throughout
the city. Now, if you'd care for some refreshment?"
Lupos pushed over a small package containing bread and a
canteen with some wine. Mouse grabbed it and began to eat
as Lupos continued.
"Where were we? Ah, yes."
"After several more days, Ungrim felt we were ready
to enter Mordheim. By now, I could hardly control my
rage. However, it was to be several moons before I would
meet Ignatius. During that time, we fought not a few
encounters against a variety of foes."
"Finally, after a battle against a band of Sisters
of Sigmar, I learned where to find Ignatius. One of the
sisters, barely old enough to no longer be called lass,
knew of him. It seems he had approached her and suggested
an unholy liaison. When she rebuffed him, he grew irate,
and bound her and carried her to his warband's camp,
where she was to be tried and executed. The Sisters sent
a band to rescue her, and she was able to escape in the
ensuing combat. Since we had captured the girl during our
skirmish with her order, I offered her freedom in
exchange for information, the location of the camp.
Though Ungrim felt we should have kept her and ransomed
her to the Sisters, I had what I wanted."
"Over the next two days we scouted out the area
where the camp was located. The arrogance of the witch
hunters was so great as to be sheer foolishness. The
warband was still there, and felt secure enough to not
post sentries. From my perch on the roof of a nearby
building, I could see them gather around their leader for
morning prayers. As he swept off his cap and gazed
upward, I shuddered. Though the face was older, and there
was gray among the black hair, this WAS Ignatius. I had
almost not dared to believe it possible, but here he was.
I would have my revenge."
"During their morning prayers the next day, we
struck! Our archers rained arrows upon them as Ungrim led
the main group of fighters straight at them. Though two
fell in the initial flight of arrows, they held their
ground, seeking cover and regrouping quickly."
"As for me, I had only one objective, to kill
Ignatius. I could not tell if he was avoiding me,
striding through the melee as I was, bellowing his name,
or if the ebb and flow of battle simply carried us apart.
I slew two of his band that day, poor souls. They were
not good fighters, and I took no joy in killing them.
They believed that by fighting in Sigmar's service, they
would be forgiven for past sins. Well, the price of those
sins was death, and I carried out their sentence."
"Despite my efforts, the tide of battle was going
against us. Ungrim fought on alone against two witch
hunters, the bodies of our comrades arrayed around him.
Our archers had been hunted down by the witch hunters'
warhounds. Though one of the beasts was dead, both of our
archers were out of action. I was furious! This could not
end this way! I would have my revenge!"
"'Uuuuulrrrriiiiic!' I bellowed. 'Do not abandon
your servant!' My prayer was answered as I felt a change
begin to come over me. The pain was excruciating, and I
almost passed out. My mouth grew into a wolf's jaws and
my teeth grew into fangs. My fingers and toes melded into
paws as my gray cloak encompassed me, becoming my skin.
As the change occurred, I noticed my senses improve. I
could smell and hear in incredible detail."
"I charged the witch hunters engaging Ungrim. I tore
the throat out of one before he could scream. As the
other back-pedalled to escape, he tripped over a body,
and I fell upon him as well, tearing and biting
until he was dead. As I turned to look for Ignatius, I
saw terror in Ungrim's eyes. He dropped his hammer and
fled. No matter. My prey was still out there, and I
intended to find him." "There, across the
square, making his way into the shadows, was Ignatius. I
ran after him, growling as I came. He heard me and
turned, his sword in one hand a crossbow pistol in the
other. Ignatius whistled, and the remaining warhound
aproached."
"I growled again, low in my throat, and glared at
the beast. It turned and fled, whimpering."
"'Damned useless mutt,' cried Ignatius. He
continued, 'Well now, foul spawn of Chaos, prepare to
meet your doom.'"
"Chaos! I was an avenging angel sent to rid the
world of Ignatius once and for all. I was righteous
retribution. The only pity was that he would not know why
he was dying."
"I sprang, my open jaws hurtling towards his throat.
Ignatius raised his crossbow and fired, the bolt
embedding itself in my shoulder. My momentum carried me
forward into Ignatius, though the blow from the bolt
caused me to miss my target. My fangs tore into the side
of his face, gouging out his left eye. We both fell
heavily. I was unable to stand as quickly as I should, as
the pain from the bolt wound began to throb. Ignatius
stood and watched my struggle."
"'Well', he said, 'It seems the poison is beginning
to work. I believe I shall leave you to die,
alone.'"
"Poison! No wonder the wound throbbed so. As he
walked off I struggled to follow, but I was weak and my
vision swam. I fell again, believing the end was near,
when I heard a voice in my head."
"'Heinrich! Get up! This is not your time!'"
"Though it was agonizing, I heeded the voice, and
managed to half stagger, half drag myself into a crevice
in a nearby ruin. Here I fell again, no longer having the
strength to continue."
"I lay there, waiting to die. Nay, wanting to die.
The pain was fierce, but it did not compare to the pain
of my failure. Ignatius had escaped! And, I was certain,
he had slain me as well. It was only a matter of
time."
"'Isolde,' I thought,'Forgive me.' Then I lost
consciousness."
"Sometime later I awoke to strange sensations within
my body. I could still feel the poison burning within me,
but I felt other things as well. I was changing
back!"
"'Thank you, Ulric, that you will allow me to die in
my own form.' But, damn the fickle gods, it was not to
be."
"Unbeknownst to me, I was laying upon a shard of
that which humans call wyrdstone and the rat-men name
warpstone. Whether it was this, or Ulric's whim, I do not
know, but the result was that my transformation was
incomplete. And thus I am as you see me now - a man yet
not a man, a wolf yet not a wolf." "Besides my
face, which you have already seen, the rest of my body
also shows signs of that hideous change. I have trouble
walking on two feet, and so it is only with much effort
that I can blend in unnoticed among humans. My
hands," and here Lupos pulled back the sleeves of
his robe, "can only be called 'hands' in the most
general way."
Mouse gasped as he looked at the ruins of
what had once been a warrior-priest's greatest weapons.
The right hand maintained the appearance of a human hand,
though with slender, hair-covered fingers ending in long,
dirty claws. Those fingers were curled into a tight fist.
Lupos followed Mouse's gaze, "Aye boy, that hand is
nearly useless, though thanks to Omikhee's generosity I
am able to wield a weapon of sorts." Lupos pulled
out a wooden club, about two feet long, with a grip
designed to fit into his claw-like hand. "It's not
my hammer, but it will do. I've had an image of Ulric
engraved into it, and asked for his blessing. And the
other hand cannot hold any weapon at all."
Mouse saw that Lupos' left arm ended in a paw, not a
hand, with sharp claws. Whether or not Lupos could wield
a man-made weapon, Mouse did not relish the thought of
facing an enraged Lupos fighting with fangs and claws. It
would be more like battling an animal than a man.
"It took me weeks to accept my fate. I wandered for
a time, lost in the agony of self-doubt. Why had Ulric
done this to me? Was I not worthy of him? Ignatius my
arch-foe still lived, and I was trapped in a caricature
of a body."
"I sought out sages and seeresses, telling them my
story and asking for their help. Some fled in terror, and
one went so far as to hail a nearby witch hunter patrol.
Though I am not proud of it, I slew her and raced into
the ruins, escaping the band of demon-hunters."
"Eventually, I came across a man who did not flee,
Sotone, and though he was unable to help me, he thought
that with time he might be able to find an answer. With
him I returned to the Twisted Goat and met with the
owner, who took pity on me and agreed to assist me. It
was then that Omikhee provided my weapon. He and Sotone
felt that finding a solution would require funds, so I
agreed to work for visiting warbands in exchange for the
gold I would need to pay for their services. I seldom
visit the tavern myself, allowing Omikhee to finalize the
arrangements with my employers. Sometimes, however, as
tonight, I feel the need to be surrounded by those such
as I once was."
"And, always, I seek word of Ignatius, for our dance
is not yet over. I will taste his blood, and the next
time I will be ready for his little surprises."
"So, little Mouse, that is my story. I apologize
again for my outburst, but perhaps now you will
understand a little better why I reacted so. Now go, the
telling has wearied me, and my temper often grows short
when I am tired. But remember, if you hear of a one-eyed
witch hunter, that I will pay gold for that
information."
Mouse needed no further urging, as the thought of an
angered Lupos was frightening. He scurried back out the
hole and made his way to his abode, thinking that the
comet had done more than simply transform a thriving city
into a desolate ruin. It had also shattered lives and
destroyed dreams.
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