The daring raid into Marienburg’s criminal underworld led by warrior priest Conrad Gottschalk and the orphanage leader Albertus Cobbius acted as a landmark watershed moment for the Church’s dealings with the city. For years the church had begun to think of Marienburg as a lost cause, a gaping hole of inequity so vast it made more sense in terms of their resources to simply contain the province’s excesses rather than intervening in it themselves but now that they had seen it was possible to purge Marienburg of some of its criminal influence after all, perhaps it was time to reintroduce the guiding hand of the law among those squalid cannal-dwellers after all. But beware, for wherever the flag of justice may be carried, so too will there always be those that seek to exploit it to their own ends.

“Baudewijn, hier is sommige geld, ga naar de slager en koop voor mij vier plakjes spek en enkele stukjes rundvlees voor het avondeten. Maar wees snel, eh. Ik moet zo snel als mogelijk met ons maal beginnen.” Mevrouw Femke declared, telling her son to head over to the local butcher’s shop in advance of tonight’s supper once Baudewijn’s father arrived home from work.

“Ja, ja mama. Ik ga er nu heen.” the son replied, putting on his coat and heading out to buy the required meats for that evening while his mother prepared the kitchen surface and began cutting some carrots.

As this was happening, the father was just checking out from work, disgruntled as usual. A common riverman transporting and selling his wares along the canal within his small boat, Axel Huurder had just heard that the local Loodeman’s Guild intended to place a tariff on boats accused of disrupting travel on the canals and Huurder was predictably furious for he knew that disrupting traffic all too often meant common vendors such as himself only trying to make a living as larger, commercial ships entered the docks to squeeze them out of business. As Huurder paced home he passed a duo of Imperial halberdiers, a rare sight in this area of the Empire after Marienburg’s independence declaration but not all too uncommon either. Then, upon turning another corner he saw a few more troopers, and again on the next street as each time the number of soldiers he saw increased – even mounted knights were beginning to join these assemblies. Fearing some kind of crackdown, Huurder picked up pace and reached his home.

“Waar is Baudewijn?” he asked after stepping through his door and planting a routine kiss on his wife’s cheek.

“Ik heb hem naar de winkel gestuurd om vlees voor vanavond te kopen.” Femke replied, telling him she sent the boy away on his errand.

“Welnu, ik zal eens gaan kijken dat alles in orde is.” Axel Huurder responded, informing his wife he would go and check on their son to make sure everything was alright.

“Vergeet niet om de losse stenen van de schoorsteen te repareren als jullie samen thuiskomen. Ik wil niet dat er ratten binnenkomen.” Femke said as Axel left the home, reminding him he also needed to fix the chimney when he returned with his son.

Axel trekked through the dull streets of his local district, aiming to attract as least attention from the soldiers as possible though he couldn’t help but notice that they seemed to be performing door-to-door inspections of many premises. Finally, he reached “Lekker Groff”, the nearest butcher’s shop to their home run by the jovial former chef who shared his namesake with the shop, Butcher Groff. However, there was something very wrong. Windows had been smashed in, doors knocked from their hinges and most worryingly, Axel could see soldiers inside the building clearing out draws and cupboards in search of clues.

“Baudewijn! Baudewijn! Baudewijn Huurder!” Axel yelled, trying to find his son as he patrolled the streets around the butcher’s shop in order to gain some answers until finally, he came across something very out of the ordinary: a large crowd of angry peasants were gathering around a set of crude dunking stools protected by soldiers. Axel rushed forward, brushing past his peers to see what was going on only for his heart to sink.

There was Baudewijn, his one and only son, strapped to one of the stools by a set of ropes and dangling above an expanse of water below, just waiting to be dropped in.

Axel barged his way through the crowd towards his son only to be knocked back by the brunt of a swordsman’s shield. “No, please that’s my son!” the riverman yelped in his best approximation of Reikspiel but the guards took no notice, declaring that his boy was cursed and needed to be purified. It was then that Huurder saw Groff, the local butcher tied to another stool only this time he looked very different; his skin covered in warts and pustules, a pig’s head worn over his own like some deranged hat while the man himself was giggling to himself incessantly, manically singing and chanting to himself in glee at the sight of the dirty waters below.

Without any way past the guards Axel ran over to the Stadshuis, home to the city’s bureaucratic leader the Burgomeister, in search of help from authority. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of the Burgomeister’s steward Pepijn Maijer being dragged out of the building in chains by imperial soldiers.
“You cannot do this! Don’t you know who I am! I’m important! On whose authority do you think you operate? Speak their titles, tell me they are senior to my employer!” the steward demanded from the soldiers as a man in armour riding a gryphon approached.

“Titles? Why I have been known by many. They have called me a Radical, a Zealot, the Terror of Northmen, the Heartless even… but personally, I have always preferred the title of Grand Baron.”

Maijer looked up to see himself being addressed by none other than Theoderic Gausser, Elector Count of Nordland. As he gazed upon the city’s historic foe, Maijer began to seeth in anger before proceeding to spit his protests to the Count’s presence. “You do not belong here! The Emperor signed our treaty of secession, Marienburg deserves to be free of your diktat!”

“Free? Free to do what exactly? Let unwanted Northern cultures in past our borders unmonitored? Let crime fester in your streets and spill out into the Empire beyond? No. No, I believe you forfeited your right to self-governance a long time ago and I assure you, I shall prove as such by the time I am finished here.” the Elector Count suggested.

“But the treaty! You will never rule Marienburg, not so long as I draw breath!” Maijer howled.

“That can be changed. As for your treaty, despite his many great qualities it best be known that the Emperor was not in a sound state of mind when it came to your pitiful document. You used that to leverage his will in favour of your own machinations. But ney, when I and the Church have concluded our investigation here, I am sure we will find ample reason for Franz to reconsider bringing you back into the fold and then finally, we shall see a new regime brought in that wouldn’t dream of acquiescing to disorder as your officials have chosen to… Oh, but what is this?” Gausser commented as he tilted Maijer’s head up using the end of his runeblade. “Pretty was she? Well, unfortunately for you we civilised peoples do not tolerate cavorting with vixenish vampires!” The Elector Count bellowed as he revealed a set of bite marks on the steward’s neck to one of his accompanying warrior priests.

The steward protested against the Count’s accusations but to little avail as as a priest came over and struck his hammer against the side of the steward’s head, knocking him out so they could transport him to be executed elsewhere more easily.

Realising he would receive no aid here, Axel averted his gaze and ran back to where his son was being held. By the time the Riverman returned to where the dunking stools were set up, another four had been built to accommodate other heretics or victims of heresy’s excesses. To this end Hilaria om Klimt also known as Sister Hilli, a priestess in the local Cult of Manann, had just arrived to prescribe her sermon and see Groff destroyed.

As Axel barged his way through the crowd, the priestess turned her gaze to the cultist of Nurgle. “Look upon the terror thou hast wrought, wretch! Look upon thine malice and repent before the coming tide! A boy, no older than ten winters must perish because of you. All men; whether they be of Marienburg, of fair Bretonnia, of the cruel north or even far-flung Kislev are faced with primal decisions. Will they stand by the righteous or kneel to the cruel? Will they choose the true gods or shall they succumb to the temptations of falsehoods? Will they elect to follow the path of righteous goodness or line their pockets with evil? In truth these are all the same question, belying the singular nature of the virtuous as opposed to the villainous.

Groff the Butcher, it is clear to me that you chose the latter of these paths in life. That in doing so you chose what passed for your life over the lives and dreams of others. Now, there shall be no path to redemption for you here in our world. However, the matter of your soul’s fate in the next realm still needs attending to. Will ye repent for thine crimes and be rewarded with a quick passing or would ye prefer to face torment for all eternity to come?”

“Repent? Repenting would suggest I had something to feel ashamed about.” the Nurglite cultist laughed. “Now dunk me in the water, yes? It’s so vile and stinky, give it to me, give it to me now! I want to swim… I want to wash it all over me…” Butcher Groff rambled on as his words dissolved into random, obscene noises thereby prompting the Priestess to do as he asked and carry his sentence out. The function on his stool moved and he went tumbling into the water below.

….
◙ Laugh React: The Nurgling butcher fell into the murky waters below and the Priestess turned to the rest of her subjects including Baudewijn.

However, just as she was about to begin speaking to the boy, Sister Hilli heard a slight bubbling coming from the water below, from where Butcher Groff had fallen only a few moments ago.

Suddenly a great splash of canal water erupted as a beast’s leg shot up and impaled the Priestess of Mann through the chest as it reared its hulking mass out of the water, revealing itself to be a horrendous maggoth and Groff’s mount.

The state troopers drew their weapons in an effort to attack the beast only to find themselves woefully unprepared for this situation as the beast opened its jaws and proceeded to spew torrents of vile bile on them and the crowds to their rear before going on a rampage, trampling and stabbing people with its limbs wherever it could.

Sadly, by the time Count Gausser heard of this threat and rallied a force large enough to capture the monster, Groff had already escaped Marienburg leaving a path of the dead and dying in his wake.
….
(Prelude to Sad, Angry, Wow and Love React)

Once Sister Hilli had allowed a few moments to confirm the death of the vulgar butcher, she turned to the other people waiting to be dunked. In normal circumstances this would be a great challenge for her. There was nothing for them to repent for, nothing for them to be ashamed of. No crimes had been committed by any of them to her knowledge and based off the ways they appeared, they seemed to be in decent health given their status and dehydration at this point. Yet she knew too that the Plaguefather, just as any of the ruinous powers, could be deceptive. Just because their symptoms didn’t show yet, that didn’t mean their continued existence wouldn’t be a threat to her and all the lives she presided over through her vigils. Thus, Hilli swallowed her reservations and proceeded with her sermon, offering Baudewijn and the others the greatest chances of being restored to a peaceful afterlife protected by Morr’s watchful embrace, carried there on the back of Manann’s wrath.

Of course Sister Hilli’s regretful approach to administering her sentence made little difference to Axel who would have to watch on from the crowds as his son was put to death regardless. If he was going to do anything to save his son’s life, now was the time.
….
◙ Sad React: Axel built up his courage and burst forward, shoving crowd members aside as he made a desperate run to save his son’s life.

However, it wasn’t meant to be. Just as he emerged from the crowd, he received a sudden blow to the back of his head as a handgunner hit him with the butt of his rifle which left him dazed. Before he could even respond to this attack, more state troopers took notice of his rescue attempt and ran over to him, beating him with the blunt ends of their weapons in an effort to subdue him.

Once he had fallen to his knees, he knew it was all over. As Axel sobbed over his own impotence, Sister Hilli finished her prayers and gave the order to her guards, sending Baudewijn and all the other potential plague carriers to their watery graves.

….
◙ Angry React: Axel did nothing. He simply stood in abject fear as he watched the ring of troops close in and his son descended into the waters to drown.

In time the crowd cleared, spurred on by other atrocities the Imperial authorities were conducting in the name of their witch-hunt. Yet, Axel couldn’t move on. He couldn’t bring himself to return to his wife and tell her that their boy wouldn’t be making it home for dinner tonight.

Thus, in that moment Axel Huurder had only one option left. He ran.

Axel ran away, never looking back because he could not bare to do so. One day he would see that justice was enacted for Baudewijn, whether in this life or the next.
….
(Final Prelude to Love and Wow React)

Axel couldn’t let his son die, not without at least trying to save him first. Consequently, Axel pushed aside his bitterness and ran into action, making his way through the crowd of jeering people before promptly shoving the nearest state trooper out of his way with his tall, riverman’s frame. Before Sister Hilaria or her troops could even respond, Axel dove into the canal in an effort to save his son. He swam deep down into the darkest recesses of the water, far beyond where the light could reach or more importantly, where the gunners by the riverbank could possibly aim at him.

Once he was at the bottom of the river, he found his drowning son and grabbed him between his arms before swimming the boy over to the other side of the canal. As he dragged his son’s body onto dry land, he knew he couldn’t revive him yet, not while the soldiers were coming for him from the other side. Thus, the soaking riverman slung his unconscious son’s body over his shoulder and sprinted as fast as he could, taking as many shortcuts and backstreets as he could to confuse and outpace the approaching Imperials who weren’t as familiar with the city’s layout as he was.

Eventually, Axel made his way back to his home which he burst into, placing his blacked out son on their dining table as he tried to revive the boy. Femke ran over to him, trying to help only for him to give her orders instead as he never even turned to acknowledge her.

“Femke bereid al dingen voor we moeten onmiddellijk vluchten voordat de soldaten komen…” Axel told her to get ready to flee before the soldiers came however, her response caught him truly unprepared for the scale of this endeavour.
“Axel, we zijn niet alleen.”
They were not alone. Axel turned around to see that behind his wife stood a witch hunter brandishing a pistol and a rapier at his waist.

“Well, well, well. Someone sure seems to be in a hurry… been for a swim have we?”

Axel tried to convince the witch hunter that there had been some mistake. That he had no business to investigate her yet every attempt he made to get the hunter to leave the home only made it clearer that the witch hunter knew more than he was letting on.

“Let me see the boy.” The witch hunter demanded as Axel once again tried to resist his advances only this time, the witch hunter decided to ignore his protests altogether as he withdrew his pistol and jabbed its barrel into Femke’s torso. “Stand away from the boy or I kill her.” The Witch Hunter requested.

Finally, Axel complied as he moved away from his son and backed away toward a wall as Femke moved over to the chimney and the hunter approached Baudewijn.

“So this is the boy who ate cursed meat? Such a waste… but alas, it changes nothing. By Sigmar’s judgement this city needs cleansing, and I shall never stay my hand where blood must spill.” The witch hunter lifted his pistol and pressed it against Baudewijn’s forehead. “My name is Victor Saltzpyre, Templar of Sigmar, and with this shot I hereby abjure thee.”
….
◙ Love React: Before Satzpyre could open fire, his forehead was suddenly struck by a loose brick that Femke had retrieved from behind her back in the fireplace while Saltzpyre was monologuing and threw at him. The Witch Hunter stumbled back, firing his shot into the ceiling as Axel took this opportunity to protect his family.

He rushed forward and tackled the skilled, yet smaller, witch hunter to the ground before proceeding to kneel over him as Axel delivered blow after blow to his face as Femke cared for their drowned son.

By the time the state troopers arrived at the scene of the Huurder household, there was nothing left to find of Axel, Femke and Baudewijn. Instead, all that remained was a deserted building containing a dazed witch hunter lying flat on his back with a black eye and missing a couple of teeth. The Huurders had escaped. However, this would not be the last time their paths crossed Victor Saltzpyre.
….
◙ Wow React: Femke attempted to hurl a brick from the broken chimney at the witch hunter but Saltzpyre’s reflexes took hold, enabling him to evade the brick’s path with ease.
“You dare attempt to strike an officer? I will not have it heathen! I am your punishment! I am your fate!” Victor cried with manic ferocity as he turned his pistol back to Baudewijn’s mother.
“No!” Axel yelled as he rushed forward to fight the man who threatened his wife and son only Saltzpyre was ready for him for just as Huurder stepped forward, Saltzpyre took hold of his rapier with his other hand and drove it through the riverman’s stomach.

“Death to Heretic!” Saltzpyre proclaimed as he turned back to Baudewijn and shot the inactive boy through his skull.

“Death to the Appeaser!” the witch hunter bellowed as he reloaded his pistol and blew a hole through Femke’s chest.

“Death to Accomplice!” the Templar concluded as he twisted his blade’s incision and left Axel to bleed out to death.

With his business here concluded, Victor set fire to the Huurder household, burning their bodies as well as their possessions. As he walked off to reunite with his colleagues Saltzpyre pondered on a job well done but this was but the first on his long list. Marienburg needed saving and Victor was just getting started…