Mordheim

The Stranger By the Fire Pt. 1
By Xhilipepa" <[email protected]>

"... with his feet - on - top!"

The singer finished her humourous ballad with a flourish and a drawn out final note. One of the latest additions to the patrons of the Twisted Goat, the long legged blonde was more than welcome as long as
she continued to provide entertainment.

Omikhee industriously polished an already clean mug. He studied the Inn's inhabitants - his good friend Donato, the drunk but benign Ser Tachyon, whose rusty broadsword had surely seen better days; the excitable halfling chef Xhilipepa, the gentlemanly vampire Alucard and a host of others. He regarded them all with paternal eye - he cared very much for each, not that he would ever admit to such. His roving gaze rested for a little longer on the child, Mouse - perfectly capable of taking care of himself, his diminutive size nevertheless exacerbated Omikhee's sense of responsibility to the Inn's patrons. Then his warm brown eyes, as always, alighted upon the Stranger.

He shook his head in confoundment. The Stranger bore a stout wooden staff, and wore an enveloping long black cloak, with a cowl that reached down over his head, obscuring his face from view. All that was clear to see was his chin - a strong chin, covered in a short greying beard. But that revealed nothing of him - such beards were the fashion in these days, and the terrors of Mordheim had been known to turn a man's hair stark white in a period of but a few hours.

The man (nobody, not even Omikhee, knew his name - he had been dubbed Stranger) had chosen a seat just by the fire, facing away from the hearth and towards the rest of the inn. And there he sat, unmoving. He had arrived about a week since, and upon entering simply sat down in that chair, and remained. He had not rented a room, but seemed content merely to stay in his seat by the fire. He had not requested any food or drink. He had not engaged in conversation with anybody, but had demonstrated that he still was living by waving away Jinx the barmaid the first couple of times she offered him sustenance. The poor halfling maid was in a fluster - the thought of not eating or drinking was anathema to halflings in general, and to one as caring as Jinx it was torture not to provide food.

Omikhee shook his head again for (it must be) the four-hundredth time since the Stranger had entered the inn. Such an aura of mystery surrounded him! There was no clue as to the colour of his eyes, let alone any more personal details. For Sigmar's sake, not even his clothes beneath his cloak were visible! This one was curious. Curious indeed.

Omikhee chuckled to himself. The truth would out. It may take some time, but it would out. Omikhee was a patient man. He continued polishing his mug. Mysteries would abound - this was Mordheim, and
stranger things had happened...