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Pflugzeit -28-Sigmarzeit -7-2493

"Please, my lord… I beg you for mercy… for Sigmar," pleaded one of the nobles, the rope already fitted around his neck, trembling at the edge of the window

"Mercy? Sigmar would never look kindly upon men who murdered their own lord the very moment all seemed lost… Push him," I ordered, raising my hand with a sharp gesture.

My men obeyed without hesitation. The noble barely managed a desperate "No!" before he was shoved into the void. The rope snapped taut with a harsh crack, and his body kicked wildly in the air until the movement ceased.

Turning back, I gazed at Akendorf's main street. The stone façades of noble houses and wealthy merchants were now decorated with hanging corpses. Each window served as a gallows, every rope swayed like a macabre banner to remind every inhabitant of the fate reserved for traitors. I ordered the heralds to march through the city proclaiming that all had been executed for treason and regicide.

The work had not been difficult: one of those wretches had rushed to confess that he himself had poisoned the prince, hoping I would reward him with a political post. He incriminated himself—and sealed the fate of all the nobility in the process. The poison, a lethal extract from local fungi, had been the tool. All I had to do was tie the threads and accuse the rest of conspiracy, giving them no room to maneuver. In a city with an elective monarchy, those parasites thought I would buy them off with gold and titles for having "elected" me as their new prince. They forgot that I needed no such approval: I had been on the verge of taking the city by force.

Eliminating the nobility in a single stroke brought another advantage: I avoided a civil bloodbath. With no leaders pushing them to resist, the inhabitants submitted without further slaughter. The price was harsh for knights and merchants, but merciful for the common folk. I granted them a quick death rather than leaving them to rot in dungeons.

Akendorf, though its walls lay ruined by bombardment, was a vital strategic point. With the city under my control, the road to Karaz-a-Karak was open. Now I could fulfill my word to High King Thorgrim: to plan a railway linking the Empire with the heart of Karak Ankor, easing both trade and the reconquest of Dwarf strongholds. But first, I had to secure the region.

The locals warned me that the nearby forests were infested with beastmen and countless goblin tribes. Further south stood Styratia, a city of similar size to Akendorf, but far harder to subdue. They shared neither tongue nor faith: their people descended from ancient clans, closer to the Zani herdsmen than to any Imperial, Tilean, or Estalian culture. There, resistance would be both military and cultural.

Still, my first task was not to march to another war, but to relocate the population. I would not leave thousands of people at the mercy of the next invasion that would inevitably ravage the villages on the way to the Empire. They had to be moved to a defensible place where they could serve, in time, as loyal subjects—and, if need be, as soldiers for future campaigns.

Thus I resolved: the people must be moved out of harm's way. To do so, I needed to find a more defensible region, a place where thousands could settle without fear of being destroyed by the first army to cross the land.

Studying the map, my attention fixed on a vast woodland lying along the most direct route toward the High King's domains. The problem was obvious: those forests crawled with goblins. Yet if we could cleanse them and establish settlements there, we could turn them into a natural bastion, reinforced with fortifications capable of withstanding any assault. I envisioned walls as formidable as those at Black Fire Pass, a fortress that would force any warlord to think twice before crossing.

It was a pragmatic decision: before invading further principalities and stretching my army across distant towns, I needed to secure a solid core. A zone to house the conquered population and provide, at the same time, a durable base of operations.

It did not take long to organize the march. The army moved out, escorting caravans full of people, and we began to do what we did best: cleanse the forests. Wherever a goblin camp was found, artillery and muskets spoke first; then the cavalry swept up the remains.

At the same time, I sent messengers to Karaz-a-Karak with a clear request for the High King Thorgrim: I needed his aid. If the Dawi brought their flamethrowers

we could purge the goblin-infested forests once and for all. Only then would the area be truly secure, and the project of a direct railway between the Empire and Karak Ankor become reality.

A vast section of the forest burned out of control. That part had been smothered in the dense webs of giant spiders, the horrid beasts goblins breed like horses. Those webs, as flammable as the finest oil, turned the woods into a colossal pyre. Meanwhile, I advanced alone through another sector, separated by a river that marked a natural border.

My purpose was to scout the land, to find suitable places to settle the people following me. Here I found little resistance: a handful of goblins slain by my hand since I entered, but nothing compared to the usual plague. Nor were there traces of spores or corrupting fungi. The contrast was unsettling: a forest too quiet, while on the far bank of the river hell devoured trees and greenskins alike.

I watched as spiders, wrapped in flames, tried to flee the fire. Some leapt desperately into the water, where I struck them down with a single blow, driving steel into their skulls. One enormous spider pushed through burning trunks, its limbs toppling charred trees, but it did not get far. It collapsed onto its back, ablaze, legs thrashing like blackened branches until they stiffened, frozen toward the sky.

"Taal must be furious…" I muttered, watching the fire as the winds drove it toward the mountains, spreading it further still. "Well, this is easier than I thought. I don't understand why no one thought before to simply burn the forest."

Continuing my march, I felt something that chilled me: a strong human presence.

"Humans? Surviving this close to goblin and spider nests? Strange… Could they be cultists?" I thought, drawing my runic mace, alert.

The advance revealed something far more disturbing: well-kept fields of crops. Young wheat sprouted from the soil, vineyards stretched across nearby hills, and peasants worked calmly as if the greenskin plague had never existed. Everything was too orderly… too unnatural. And above all, I could feel a faint breath of dhar lingering in the air.

I entered the settlement. The villagers watched me with suspicion, yet continued their tasks pretending normalcy. Still, the concentration of weapons in the place was undeniable. I could feel the weight of blades and spears before I even saw them. Guards patrolled the village… but once I looked closer, the truth became clear.

"Oh… zombies and skeletons. Necromancy…," I muttered, noticing their hollow eyes and the withered flesh beneath their armor. What was strange was the lack of dhar's usual intensity to sustain such control. Something didn't add up.

When I decided to withdraw and return to my men, a dull blow struck the back of my helmet. I turned furiously, answering with an elbow that knocked down one of my attackers: a peasant armed with nothing but a stick. He wasn't alone—an entire group had tried to knock me out.

"So… slaves of a necromancer, I see," I growled, raising the runic mace as the peasants, terrified, stumbled away.

The air thickened. Dhar surged at once, a dark current running through the settlement. The necromancer had revealed himself, and his creatures stirred.

I drew a deep breath and let the metal obey my will. The tips of spears and swords carried by the dead warped under my magic, reshaping into floating blades. In an instant, they began to whirl as if driven by an invisible storm, slicing through rotting flesh, bone, and wood without distinction.

I pressed forward into the village, leaving behind heaps of charred flesh and broken bone where skeletal guards and zombies had stood. Only a few twitching remnants remained, still animated by the lingering presence of dhar.

As I walked the streets, I noticed the villagers watching me in terror. Many bore clear marks on their necks: two precise punctures, some still fresh, with traces of dried blood on their skin. The sight was unmistakable.

"Damnation… a vampire. Someone marked by the curse of undeath," I muttered, as certainty struck me.

Raising my hand, I drew upon Chamon to force open the gates of the castle that loomed over the settlement. With a thunderous crash, the great doors burst wide, revealing the darkened interior. From within emerged a contingent of armored warriors, the dead in motion, rising with clumsy yet determined steps to defend their master.

I gave them no chance. With a gesture, their armor plates twisted, melting into incandescent masses of white-hot metal. The undead fell in inhuman screams, their bodies burning as the heat spread through the hall like a wild forge. In seconds, the castle's guardians were nothing but searing puddles of iron and ash.

I advanced steadily to the last chamber. There, upon a blood-stained floor, lay an old man with a dagger buried in his stomach, breathing in ragged gasps. Around him stood several women, watching me with a mix of fear and hope. One of them stepped forward.

"Thank you, my lord… with your distraction we managed to kill the—"

"Stay back, vampire…" I cut her off, pointing to my Sigmarite amulet. It vibrated violently, reacting to the cursed presence.

I was surprised how little dhar these figures gave off, as if they had learned to hide their corruption.

"Tsh… you're not as naïve as we thought. A lucky adventurer would have fallen easily," one of them said with a sharp smile, while the others began circling me like hungry wolves.

"It doesn't have to end this way…" murmured another, her voice soft. "You could join us. You could receive the gift."

I circled carefully, guarding every angle, making sure none of them got behind me.

"Come now… don't you wish to stop worrying about tomorrow? You would live forever, if you accepted the kiss," pressed the first, showing her fangs under the dim light of the torches.

"No thanks. I've no interest in being cursed."

I channeled my magic and all the metal in the hall—shattered armor, fallen weapons, nails torn from the walls—rose to float around me. In an instant, it became a storm of blazing fragments, whirling in circles to shield me from an attack on all sides.

The vampires struck at once, swift as shadows. Two shrieked in agony as the burning shards pierced their flesh, embedding in their bodies and roasting them from within as they clawed frantically to rip the molten steel out.

The other two reached me. One lunged head-on, claws aiming for my face. My mace roared as it struck her skull: a dry crack signaled the collapse of bone, her head bursting like a melon smashed in fury.

The other crashed upon me like a beast, claws raking at my armor. The runes flared, deflecting her strikes.

I seized her face with my free hand, driving my fingers into her eye sockets. The creature screamed like a tortured animal, trying to bite the hand that blinded her. With the mace, I smashed her leg so brutally it shattered at once, sending her crumpling, crippled on the ground. There, with a single stomp, I crushed her skull against the stone floor, spreading dark blood like ink beneath my boots.

Only three abominations remained, and in their eyes no arrogance lingered—only fear. I channeled my magic again, unleashing another storm of searing metal fragments. Two stood no chance: their flesh melted as glowing shards burrowed into them, writhing and howling until they were nothing but smoking lumps of charred meat. The third chose to flee.

"Damn it… she slipped away," I growled, racing up the stairs.

The creature was unnaturally swift, scaling the castle in seconds. I tracked her with effort, cornering her in a shadowed chamber. There she trembled, surrounded by thralls who, with vacant eyes, offered her cups brimming with blood, heedless of what was happening around them.

"End of the road, vampire. The sun blazes bright… and you have no escape."

She glanced toward the window, the blinding glow of daylight, and in a desperate act clutched one of her thralls, driving her claws into his neck.

"We can bargain… we can…" she stammered, her voice broken, pleading.

"Ha? That's pathetic. Do you really think I care what happens to one of your dogs?" I sneered, laughter under my breath as I raised the mace.

The creature hurled her thrall at me. I had no qualms—my blow splattered him into a crimson painting across the stone. But the sacrifice gave her the time she needed, using her unnatural agility to hurl herself past me and out the door, leaping from the tower's heights toward the castle's entry.

I would not let her escape. I summoned my magic, and all the metal of the gate and the castle's forges rose around her, swirling into burning blades that closed tighter and tighter. They encircled her, wrapping her in a fiery embrace of iron and flame. Her screams tore through every corner of the keep—piercing at first, then snuffed out at once into absolute silence.

"Well… that's settled."I descended the stairs with steady steps, mace still dripping with blood. "Now to slaughter the rest of her thralls."

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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.

Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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