Mordheim

The Man who was Not explains
From: David Stillberg <[email protected]>

The translucent man at the bar counter gobbles down the half-pint of ale offered to him. The ale promptly runs through him, and splashes out on the floor.

"Ah, that's a good'n! I guess that it would be my turn to tell you how I came here, now that I have rinsed away the parch in my throat. My story could not well match the one just told by Donato there, or the one about the Countess of Marienburg's gold. The Countess... Ah, how I remember the nights her. I left her crying, with the words "We shall always have L'anguille". But that is another story, to be told another night!"

*******************
* How I ended up in the Cursed City
* or
* I was teleported to Mordheim, and all I got was ethereal
*******************

"My name, good brothers, is Davidian Cragmire. You may have already heard of me from the Gray Sage, and as the he has told you, I am no ordinary man."

A murmur rises in the crowd, and many a head nods in recognition.

"But i once was. If I told you of my past, and how I came to be in this here dark city of yours, you would not believe me. The stories I could tell you about the cities of my home. The splendour of the spires, the sunrise over the forest-gardens. But as I said, you would not believe me my friends, you surely wouldn't. Give me another one of those ales, willya!"

Xilipepa the halfling cook hands the black-clad stranger a mug, which is quaffed with the same floor-wetting result as the first one.

"Surely this house has a mighty brewmaster! The ale runs through me, but still it quenches my thirst! Now, let me tell you what has happened to me since I first came to Morheim, and since I first met with the Gray Sage. I hope none of you hold fears against the darker forces that dwell in this city, for this is a tale of the Dark Gods themselves, and their curses over me and my very life."

The boldly-dressed duellist, Donato, springs to his feet and cries out.

"Are thee telling us, good Sire, that thee are a spawn of Chaos? If so, I would bid thee to leave this very minute, before I slay thee with a swift Riposte Lunga to the heart!"

"Calm your temper, good brother. I am as much a man as you are. I said I was cursed by the Gods, not created. But as I am cursed, I am blessed as well. But whom of us hasn't grown stronger since he first came here? Who has not felt the warm hand of the Chaos within, and embraced it, knowing that it would help you achieve your dreams?"

The bar falls silent. Puzzled faces exchange embarassed looks...

"Well, I guess I am a bit special then... But fear not! Listen instead to my tale! When I first came to Mordheim, I was a bleak shadow of a man. I walked the earth as a phantom, and it was like so the Sage found me. I thank every one of the Powers that be that the Sage held no fears against my apparition, as he truly saved me that day. He showed me the power of the Wyrdstones, and that was to be the beginning of my bliss."

"In the year that has passed, I have travelled the lands on the height and width, but the first place I came to was the mountains to the north-east. There I met the Dwarf king Khazaz, and entertained him and his court. You see, I am what you would call a ministrel by profession. I played for the Dwarfs, and aided them in battle against the Rat-Men that threatens them from below. In time, I began to learn that the thing those furred wretches call Warpstone is in essence the same as the Wyrdstone found here. And as you have heard, Wyrdstone is the only thing that gives me any relief from my cursed state. And so it was, that when I began to steal the stones from the Rat-Beasts, the Dwarfs rejected me. Their runes held no power over me, but I was forced to flee nonetheless, and this brings us to the next part of my journey."

An Orc named Ilkka, situated at the back of the crowd spoke;

"Play uz a song den, Skinny! If dem beardiez liked it, I iz sure I will!"

"I am sorry to say, green brother, that I cannot. I have yet to tell you that I have lost the ability to play without the aid of Wyrdstone, and it is long since I last found any."

Rolo the halfling started to rummage about his pockets.

"Maybe I can be of help. I think I have some shards around here somewhere. Perhaps they would be a fair exchange for your story, and a song or two."

"Ah, thank you. Let me prepare the Amp-Li-Fear, and I shall do performance for you.

Taking the small shards, Davidian tosses them into a small hatch on the side of a strange device he carries on his back. As if from nowhere, he then produces a huge axe-like lute.

"Let rip!"

Striking at the four strings of the lute, both a horrible noise and a nauseus smell of sulphur vibrates through the air. From thin air, shapes of bat-winged imps congeal, and their high pitched voices join that of the lute's harmonies:

*Give me Alchemy*
*Give me Wizardry*
*Give me Sorcery*
*Thermatology*
*Electricity*
*Master all of these*
*Magic if you please*
*Bring him to his knees*

Stopping, as he sees the crowd cower behind the tables, Davidian waves the still screaming imps through a window.

"You did not like my song? I am sad to see, but let me get on with the story instead."

The barkeep peers trembling over the counter.

"What was that sorcery? Did you not way you were no Chaos fiend?

"I was just coming to that, good brother. You see, when I had left the Dwarfs in the north-east, I came to the land called Kislev in search of more Wyrdstone. I was shunned there, but also told to travel to the far north, to the frozen land of Norsca and beyond. Of that perilious journey, through lands more cursed than this city, I will not speak. I shall tell you, however, that my arrival was expected. I met a blind Sorcerer there, in a castle made from human bones. It was still the most beautiful of structures, and within it, a thousand lamps burned with unholy oils, spreading a sweet scent for miles around. To the
highest tower I was drawn by forces unkown, and there I met the ruler of the castle."

"The Sorcerer was blind, as I told you, but he had the gift of witch-sight, and was no more a cripple than any other man. His exact words were too horrid to repeat here, but he had foreseen my coming, and bound me with powerful spells. I was to be the herald of dread Slaanesh, and play his tunes wherever the armies of Chaos marched. For surely, I had unwittingly come to the Realm of Chaos! I refused the Sorceror and his master though, and after what seemed like years of torment I was cast away from the castle."

"But I had changed. I was prepared to be the herald of the Lord of Pleasures, but the transformation had not been complete, to my great luck. Slaanesh held no power over me, but he warped my Axe here, and the Amp-Li-Fear i carry with me. I still have the clean soul I was born with, but for my life I am cursed to wander the world, searching for more of the Wyrdstones to power myself with. For without it, I will grow as bleak and immaterial as I was when I first came here."

"Now you have heard the story of Davidian Cragmire. Believe it or not, but this is all true, madman as I may be."