Altdorf, the seat of the Imperial throne and Capital of the Empire bustling with commerce and places of learning – No longer.

Altdorf is now but a shell of its former glory. Whole districts of the city lie deserted by the general populace while re-construction efforts funded by the colonies’ tributes and Nuln’s industry powerhouses can be seen wherever one turns their gaze.

However, despite the city’s damaged state, this could have been much worse. When trolls crossed the Talabec crossing, jeopardy arose. When giants tore through the city walls, children cried beneath their beds. When boar boyz scurried through the streets, the stakes became dire. When the dreaded warboss Grimgor Ironhide battered down the gates of the Royal Palace and assaulted the seat of the Imperial Throne, all seemed lost. Nevertheless, the Empire did not fall that day for its greatest heroes rose to the occasion. The alchemist Gelt killed the shaman Wurrzag and after learning of the Emperor’s wounds, carried him halfway across the Old World in search of a cure. The champion Schwartzhelm and the griffon Deathclaw put an end to the Imperial Dragon’s rampage by defeating and returning it to its enclosure. The Reiksmarshall Helborg and his soldiers maintained order throughout the ensuing chaos as families grieved and sought new residences across the Empire. The Countess von Liebwitz went out of her way to generate funds for the city’s repairs and in order to raise the people’s morale following this sacking, the Arch Lector Huss handed the legendary Heldenhammer to a commoner simply known as Valten such that he could continue Sigmar’s legacy in the Emperor’s absence and show the people that anyone could stand up to the forces of darkness so long as their faith held firm.

There was one particularly notable figure who did not make much of a public impression following Altdorf’s sacking however. The Grand Theogonist of the Church of Sigmar, Volkmar von Hindenstern, was rarely seen in public after the war even despite playing a major role in slaying the goblin leader Grom da Paunch right outside the Holy Temple of Sigmar, one of the less afflicted edifices by the conflict. Indeed, the Holy Temple’s safety was a reason in of itself for his introversion, for while Huss and other Sigmarite clerics sought to raise public moral in the present, Volkmar was far more concerned about the conflicts that the future would bring. Subsequently, Volkmar sealed himself in his Temple, reading through manuscripts and sacred texts by day and night in hope of finding the answers he sought.
___________________________

Thus this tale brings us to what at first glance may look like any of the Theogonist’s nights. Volkmar slumped over a desk in a small chamber just barely below ground level, paging through countless tomes whether they be religious texts like the Catechisms of Matron Clodagh, military strategy found in Mijster Leopold’s musings on Emperor Magnus’ victory over the Northern armies or even thumbing through select passages of terrible books like the Liber Chaotica written by the mad priest Richter Kless or the Liber Malefic by Marius Hollseher which were usually kept under lock and key by the Order of Light.

Outside the Holy Temple were scores of troops, constantly vigilant against outside threats yet inside it was totally silent, a result of Volkmar’s decision to have all the temple’s walls soundproofed such that his enquiries would not be disturbed by the construction efforts outside. Thus as everyone else who worked here retired for the night, Volkmar found himself totally alone in a silent cathedral as he always did.

However, a few hours into his reading Volkmar began to hear some scratching in the next room, like a mouse scratching the woodwork around doors though he insisted the scratching was louder than was normal for mice. Volkmar lifted his hammer and stood to leave the room he was in to find out what was causing the raucous.

He reached the doorway and was about to set foot in the next room when suddenly, an elven waywatcher dropped from the ceiling, proclaiming “Look out!” as a Skaven assassin pounced toward the Theogonist from the shadows to the room’s far corner. Volkmar instinctively leapt aside, allowing the elf to loose an arrow off that flew past him and pierced the assassin’s chest.

The Skaven fell to the ground with its face turned to its left. “Keep away from that vermin!” the elf ordered.

“Keep away? It’s dead is it not?” the Theogonist asked.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, mayfly. I’ve been hunting this beast for a good fortnight but it’s resilient.” the elf answered.

Volkmar looked around confused, pointing at both the elf and the defeated skaven as he asked “I don’t understand. Who are you?What is that? What is happening here-“ only for him to be abruptly cut off as the Skaven regained consciousness and rose to its feet before yanking the waywatcher’s poisoned arrow out of its chest and turning its head back to a forward-facing position, revealing that almost the entirety of the left side of its head composed of Skryre technology with metal plasters stretched across its cheek muscles and what looked like a red-tinted periscope extending from its left eye socket. Furthermore, as the assassin stepped out of the shadows and closer to the two, it became apparent to them that its face was not the only part of the rat that had been enhanced for parts of its arms and legs had been replaced by pistons while in place of carrying daggers, the assassin instead had long blades protruding from sheaths attached to its wrists.

“My name is Kerillian… and that is Veskit!” the waywatcher cried as she loosed another arrow only this time the rat was fast enough to avoid the projectile’s path and vanish into the shadows.
….

◙ Angry React: A moment later the Skaven assassin pounced anew, receiving a clobbering blow to its face from the Grand Theogonist’s hammer. Combined with the projectile damage the rat had already received from the waywatcher, Veskit decided to withdraw realising it was outmatched against the two fighters.
With Veskit gone, Volkmar ran outside to summon his guards. However, by the time he returned the Wood Elf was gone, taking all traces of her or the Skaven ever being there away with her.
….
As the assassin slunk off into the shadows to reformulate it’s plans, Volkmar turned to his new elven ally
“I hope you have a plan, Wutelgi.”

“Aye, as do I.” Kerillian replied as she and Volkmar moved back to back, scanning the room for their rodent assailant when suddenly, a pair of shurikens flew across the room and sliced through a pair of candles. “It’s trying to take out the lights! In the dark we’ll be finished!”

“The central dome on the top floor!” Volkmar cried. “The moons should be out by now providing their light and the floor has clear routes of approach so we could see it coming.”

“Sounds acceptable. Lead the way, human.” the waywatcher replied before both took off in the direction of a spiral staircase, Volkmar leading the charge upstairs with the elf following close behind. Alas, the torches they past kept being taken out, a sign Veskit was close behind.

“You called me wutelgi earlier, does this mean you speak Khazalid?” Kerillian asked as she was ascending those stairs, always keeping an eye on the encroaching darkness from further down the spiralled tower.

“Would it terrify you to know that as a learned man, it has been my duty to learn as many wordly tongues as possible for my studies? Even some of your native Eltharin.”

“Aye, hearing you butcher my language with that loathsome dialect would indeed petrify me… I may just leave you to the rat if you try.”

“And what brings you here, elf? You are far from Laurelorn or Fallen Loren.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business mayfly.”

“To the contrary. As Theogonist I oversee all construction efforts in this city including all who enter its domain. It would have been well in my perview to know of an elven hunting party’s intrusion.”

“No party, just me!” Kerillian yelped before ducking and loosing off another arrow at the still trailing skaven assassin, sending it back into the dark.

“A drifter then? What heresy have you committed to warrant such persecution?”

“I’ll tell you if we survive tonight how’s that?”

“Alright, and what of our assassin? Who or what is Veskit?” Volkmar asked as he finally reached the top of the staircase and began going through his keys to see which would unlock the door to the top floor beneath the dome.

“No one is quite sure but I know it was active in Mordheim… it was less metal back then though. Nowadays it even has steel armour beneath its skin.”

“How ghastly.”

“Aye, I agree. Now what do you say you hurry up and open this door?”

“Alright, gottverdammt, it’s old it takes a moment.”

“The darkness is getting closer!”

“A moment please.”

“I’m not dying here with you mayfly , hurry up!”

“Patience.”

“Volkmar do something now!”

“Ah here we go.” Volkmar twisted the correct key into the lock and the door swung open, giving the two precious seconds to barge onto the floor and close the door behind them just before the assailant came into view.

The two found themselves in a spacious bare room with wooden floorboards beneath the Holy Temple’s dome, a great stained glass semi circle depicting the bravery of Emperor Hundrod the Furious who slew the dragon Mascar.

“How a culture as mature as yours can denigrate the value of patience I will never understand.” Volkmar chided as he placed a timber beam across the door as a barricade. From there they both gathered under the overhead dome, bathing in its moonlight.

“Are there any ways out through here?” the elf asked.

“No. That was the only door. The nearest exit from the Temple is by the altar, about 30 feet below these floors.”

“And the dome? Could we make our way up there and abseil?”

“Perhaps but you’d need more arrows than that.” Volkmar remarked, noticing only a handful of arrows left in Kerillian’s quiver. “That glass has been reinforced against sieges.”

“Well then we remain here, keep our wits about us. Speaking of which can you hear something?” Kerillian replied.

“Your incessant wittering in my ear?”

“I can leave you, you know. I mean the rat… assuming you acknowledge what it is that’s chasing us of course.”

“Naturally, she-elf. I am Grand Theogonist, do not assume my public sermons account for my full understanding of the world. The Skaven exist, it is known but it is simply more convenient not to burden people with knowledge of them. The average Reiklander will go his life without a sighting, why scare him unduly? And no, I don’t hear anything. Perhaps the rat left?”

“Because of a door?” Kerillian laughed. “No, Veskit is still here somewhere… on the roof I wager, waiting to ambush us as we try to esca-“

*BANG!*

Suddenly Kerillian shrieked in pain as a warpstone bullet barrelled upward through the floorboards and tore through her left knee. “That blasted blighter is beneath us!” she screamed as Volkmar instinctively grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her over toward the room’s edge as Veskit sat below atop the altar table fired off multiple more rounds from its wrist-mounted warp pistols.
“We need to get out of here, now.” Volkmar decided, watching as the floorboards around them were being torn up by bullets.

“The dome! It’s our only way out!” Kerillian angrily spat as she tried to make her way back to the centre of the room to fire off her arrows only to be struck again as a bullet pierced her right thigh. The elf fell, landing face first on the floor, knowing any second a third of Veskit’s shots would find their target and seal her fate but Volkmar had one last trick up his sleeve as he chanted a prayer and his mace began to glow.

“What are you doing?!” Kerillian called in terrified tones.

“We can survive 30 feet.”

“What??? No don’t you dare!” Kerillian shouted but to no avail as Volkmar brought his enchanted hammer crashing down, smashing through the floor beneath him and sending out a shockwave that caused the entire room’s floors to collapse and come hurtling down.

Down the duo tumbled, falling for a few seconds before landing on the stone floors of the temple below with a great blow. Kerillian instantly passed out, her leg bent out of shape having already been injured and not bracing for the fall while Volkmar pulled himself up enough to crawl, beset by concussion as a long tear of blood seeped from his forehead. Still before he could rest, he checked his surroundings for their assailant.

Veskit’s body was sprawled over the altar table, crushed by a falling chandelier that had been attached to the floor Volkmar had broken through, its fur burning under the ornament’s candlelight.

….
◙ Love React: As the Skaven assassin laid broken and burning, Volkmar crawled over to the altar exit, pulling the door open and calling for help before passing out himself.

The next day the Grand Theogonist appeared before a student reporter for the Altdorf University Press, giving his side of events while still dealing with multiple dressed wounds.

“So you mean to tell my readers that all of this: your injuries, the unconscious elf, the destruction of an entire level of the Holy Temple of Sigmar… they were all part of a controlled demolition?”

“Yes. The demolition had been scheduled for some time now as part of the city’s reconstruction but I’d been held up from evacuating due to the elf coming to me for confession. The crude creature spent so long confessing her wicked ways that I lost track of time and so we were both caught in the blast.” Volkmar replied.

“You expect our readers to believe this?” the student asked in a befuddled manner.

“It is the truth as ordained by Holy Sigmar.”

The reported furrowed his brow before putting his notebook away. “Is it? Speaking off the record I have multiple eye witnesses telling me they saw soldiers carting off the body of a deceased metal man with burnt fur this morning. They unanimously told me the body resembled the legends of the Skaven.”

“Hah!” Volkmar laughed. “You students will publish anything these days. Didn’t your parents tell you there’s no such thing as Skaven? Though between us I suggest you hand that list of witnesses over to the Ordinators at the Great Temple as soon as possible. Those names could be very useful to the Witch Hunters. For purely administrative reasons of course…”
….
(Prelude to Laugh, Wow and Sad React)

Volkmar took a breath of relief, watching the Skaven assassin burn under the chandelier’s weight while Kerillian laid unconscious by his side. Without anything else to do, he pulled himself up onto all-fours and proceeded to crawl toward the exit where he could call the troops outside. However, it was at this moment that he heard a certain rustling behind him.

Volkmar turned his gaze back toward the altar where Veskit’s mechanical eye had reactivated, turning a bright beady red as its metal limbs grasped the rail of the chandelier and proceeded to lift it up just enough for the rat to slide out from underneath it. Veskit stood up onto its feet, its fur still burning, the last vestiges of its face mangled and leaving its metal dome underneath clearly visible through the tears in its skin. The Skaven’s telescopic eye peered toward the Grand Theogonist for a moment, studying his movements before then looking down at the unconscious waywatcher between the two of them.

Sensing her danger, Volkmar dragged his body along the floor in the direction of his hammer but was cut off by the whirring sound of pistons and gears revving up. Veskit mechanical legs sprinted across the room, crossing the distance like a scurrying bullet before driving its arm blade through Kerillian’s neck. By the time her head finished separating from her body, Veskit had already moved its sight onto the human.
….

◙ Sad React: Volkmar reached for his hammer, nearly grasping it only to have it shot away by Veskit’s wrist gun.
Unarmed and injured, the old librarian forced himself onto his feet, raising his fists for one final brawl but alas, the rat was tired pf toying with its prey. Veskit took a running leap and kicked the Theogonist’s chest, sending him back onto the floor and cracking his Jade Griffon under the assassin’s gears. From there what remained of Veskit tore a cord from its bionic hands, stringing the ends between its fingers before approaching the downed Theogonist from behind and wrapping the cord around Volkmar’s throat like a garrotting wire. The Old Man choked for breath, trying to hurl the rat off his back but its skeleton was too strong to be removed. Veskit tightened its grip until Volkmar was finally dead.
….
◙ Laugh React: Seeing his new acquaintance so easily dispatched, Volkmar abandoned the path toward his hammer and crawled toward the exit. Veskit responded, firing round after round from its wrist gun which missed their target due to the rat’s haste. Veskit drew its arm blades, ready to finish the human off but just as it wax about to dive in for the kill, Volkmar finally reached the door, yanked it open by a couple of inches and yelled for aid with the deepest baritone he could muster.

Veskit heard the oncoming steps of running and warrior priests and backed away, giving one final glance of spite toward the Theogonist before making its withdrawal. By the time the troops arrived to protect Volkmar, only an open sewer grate remained of the bionic rat’s presence.
….
◙ Wow React: Volkmar abandoned the pursuit of his hammer, crawling toward the exit and reinforcements. However, it was not to be for Veskit ran over to him and grabbed his ankle, pulling him back. The Theogonist desperately scrambled on the floor, trying to grab a nearby bench but the rat was simply too strong, overpowering his grip before dragging him into an open sewer grate.

Down the rat descended through the maze of sewers and underground tunnels, the human resisting all the way until finally, the assassin let go and vanished into the shadows. Volkmar looked round, unable to make anything out in the dark tunnel until a fearsome rat ogre stormed in and roared in his face.
“Patience Boneripper!” a Skaven’s conniving voice chittered as a certain Grey Seer lit the room with his staff, revealing Volkmar was surrounded by Stormvermin in addition to the monster. “I have many plan-schemes for this one.”