Mordheim

INTRODUCTION
By Xhilipepa <[email protected]>

The door to the Twisted Goat inn swung open, allowing some of the biting cold air from the city of Mordheim to seep in. A few scant flakes of snow were blown in on the back of the wind, quickly melting on the warm oak surfaces of the inn. Uncommonly for Mordheim, the place was well occupied; only a couple of tables stood empty of patrons. The fire burnt merrily in the hearth, crackling contrapuntally to the pleasant murmur of voices engaging in conversation. However, the background noise came to an abrupt halt as the door creaked ominously on its hinges.

A black figure took a single step inside. A duelling blade swung at his side. His face was obscured by a black scarf and a large, wide brimmed hat, only his eyes being evident. He wore black leather boots, decorated in silver filigree. A long trenchcoat enveloped him, obscuring view to all but the most basic details of his personage. He stood in the doorway silently, meeting the suspicious glances of the inn's patrons with an equal measure of apprehension. The door closed with a quiet click. A hostile silence reigned in the recently bustling common room.

The figure glanced about the inn, his eyes betraying no expression. His gaze sweeped over the occupants - a small, scared looking boy, the experienced and burly innkeeper, the buxom halfling barmaid, and some more of the more unusual visitors. Then the kitchen door in turn swung open, from it bursting a waft of steam.

Through the door came a raffish looking halfling with a kind face, wearing a cap with a feather in it, and a sauce-splashed apron. He bore a gigantic pot of a bubbling red mixture, that looked like chilli decidedly hot chilli at that, bringing tears to the eyes by the smell alone. He came in shouting "Grub's up, now stuff yourselves!" racuously, but then fell silent as he noticed the pervading mood of the now sombre inn. He searched for the cause, and upon seeing the mysterious figure in the doorway, squinted as if puzzled. Then he let out a whoop of delight, almost dropping the pot.

"Donato! Donato Ranzato, I have never been so pleased to see those grass green eyes in my entire life! By Sigmar Donato, I never thought you'd get back! How was Tilea?"

The figure pulled down his scarf, revealing a calm and generous face that reassured all who saw it that they were in the presence of a honourable and chivalrous man worthy of respect. The innkeeper tangibly
relaxed, a wide smile spreading over his face both at the halfling's unquenchable enthusiasm and the sight of an old friend. Donato crossed the room, first giving Omikhee the innkeeper a rough embrace, then addressing the exited halfling:

"Why Xhilipepa my old friend, a warm welcome as always. Here, serve me up a batch of chilli, pour me a drink and I shall regale you with the details of my latest escapades...."

The patrons of the inn, recognising the promise of a tale, put down their cards. And as it had always been and would always be, they listened to the tale of another traveller fortunate enough to wander into the warmth of one of the few remaining safehouses in Mordheim, City of the Damned.