Hilde smiled at Cedric's display and at Isolde's obvious awe. Small town thugs were rarely a match for professional soldiers as the giant Hochlander had just learned. The problem was that they put so much effort into bluster and by the time the realised their opponent wasn't blustering it was too late.

The hubub in the tavern was dying quickly, and Hilde was about to suggest they retire to their rooms, days on the road had done little to ease the weariness she had earned in the fighting in the Riekswald, when a bar maid placed two tankards of ale down on the table top.

"Curtesy of the gentleman across the way," the barmaid simpered with something between jealousy and excitement in her voice. Isolde and Hilde both looked up at a lean looking man with a sly grin on his face. Hilde guessed he was in his late 20s though he might easily have been a decade older. His clothing was faded silk which must once have been fine and he wore a utilitarian grey cloak. A sword and a pistol hung at his belt. Hilde smiled more at the pistol than at the drink but the stranger took it as an invitation and slid over to the table.

"Good afternoon Frauline," he greeted with a gravely voice.

"What brings two such beauties into this poor house this day?"

Isolde immediately bristled.

"We aren't whores if that is what you mean," she snapped hotly. If the man was shocked he didn't show it, merely held up his empty palms as bar.

"No no I don't imagine that," he added good humoredly, "In fact that is why I approached you. Both of you and knuckles over there," he inclined his head towards the triumphant Cedric.

"Have the look of people who can handle themselves, and im looking for people who can handle themselves."

"What are you looking for such people for Herr...?" Hilde asked, cautiously sipping her ale.

"Strickland, Johan Strickland," he responded, "and im looking for people willing to do Sigmar's work for you see ladies, I have the honor to be a Witch Hunter."

@POOHEAD189

Cerdic raised an eyebrow at the nickname Knuckles, but he listened as the lanky man before him revealed himself to be apart of The Holy Order of The Templars of Sigmar. He didn't doubt this Witch Hunter was who he said he was, an Arch Lector being present here, as well as the increasing activity in Beastman in the woods to the east. He'd heard they sometimes hired Mercenaries to help bolster their forces if the need were great enough. Seemed now was one of those times.

"Cerdic Becker," he said by way of greeting, standing out of his chair and giving a proper Reikland salute. Cerdic might have been a bit estranged to the Empire as a whole since the meeting of the Templars in the forest, but whatever his future held, soldier or Merc, he was still an Imperial citizen and an enemy of chaos.

"Ah, a willing participant." Johan said, giving Cerdic a look that gave him no indication on what he was thinking at the moment. "You stand like a soldier, Herr Becker." Cerdic sat down again, giving a nod. "I've served, yes." It was all he was willing to discuss at this moment.
@Austronaut

Strickland arched an inquisitive eyebrow at the two women while gesturing for another tankard to be produced for Cedric. Both Hilde and Isolde shifted uncomfortably. No one liked witch hunters much and after their recent experiences neither woman was keen to spend more time in their company. Turning down a request for aid wasn't likely to be viewed positively either. Still there was something different about Strickland. His eyes were intense but they didn't burn with zealous fire, nor did he exude the touchy aristocratic honor that the Brothers of the Crimson Flame had embodied. His clothes were dirty and his weapons looked well used, more suited to a back alley than a parade ground.

"I'm Hilde Von Strashiem," Hilde volunteered, earning herself an arched eyebrow from the witch hunter for the 'von'.

"And you may call me Isolde," the mage said with a slight chill to her voice. If Strickland noticed he again chose not to comment. Instead he emptied his tankard and called for another.

"I'm sure you know that the enemies of the Empire are everywhere, you will excuse me if I spare you the hysterical version," he began with a smile.

"I have come to Nuln chasing a particular heretic, a renegade wizard who was once a noble in this very city," he cleared his throat.

"Unfortunately I have... irritated certain elements here and neither the nobility nor the city guard is much inclined to help me. Worse were I to kick up a stink about it my prey might be spooked. I need men, or in this case, women who can discretely help me."

"I can offer you the blessing of Sigmar for your aid."

He looked around hopefully before adding a little sullenly.

"I have gold also of course."

@POOHEAD189

"A Renegade wizard?" Isolde asked, the promise of gold taking a backseat for now (but not forgotten). "You would understand that we would need some more information, Herr Strickland." The woman did her best to betray no emotion, and to her credit she seemed to remain passive, if not inquisitive of what he was asking of them.

"The Blessing of Sigmar would be welcome." Cerdic said, glancing at the two women before giving a gruff nod to the Witch Hunter. He lifted his mug in thanks to the kind gesture of paying for their drinks. "Discretion we can handle." It seemed Sigmar himself had already blessed them this day. Not only do they have rooms now, but an agent of the Cult of Sigmar asks of their help and will even pay for their services. It was a Mercenary's dream.

"Indeed." Isolde added, a sideways look at Cerdic slipped to fall upon the Witch Hunter yet again. She sipped her drink she had received, and continued her next train of thought. "Would the need for discretion and secrecy be for the benefit of our hunt, or would it be caused because of your recent...estrangement with the city's nobility?"
@Austronaut

Strickland flashed his easy smile, the corner of his neat mustache turning up.

"I am afraid to say, my previous activities in the city caused a great deal of embarrassment, I'd rather that an official protest not be sent to someone higher up in the order." Stickland coughed into his hand, making a show of his own embarrassment at whatever event he was alluding to.

"But it is just as true that secrecy will prevent our foe from fleeing. He is a crafty one and rarely takes risks," the witch hunter sighed.

"Give me the megalomaniac who cannot be stopped any day," he declared ironically. Hilde's mouth twitched into a smile, amused by the witchunter inspite of her own best efforts. Isolde relaxed at Strickland's 'he' but remained reserved.

"Tell us more about this wizard Herr Strickland," Hilde asked draining her own tankard. Strickland snapped his fingers and another round was bought. He waited till the barmaid drew away before continuing.

"Johan please, and I hope you wont be offended if I address you as Hilde?" he asked. Hilde nodded her assent. Johan smiled clearly warming to his would be confederates. He drew a roll of parchment from his jacket and unrolled a stained charcoal portrait of a skeletal looking man in his late forties. The pictures cheeks were almost cadeverous and a long aqualine nose protruded promiently.

"This is Claus Wiermier, a former Amythest wizard, now a fugitive from imperial justice. I met him in Altdorf and uncovered evidence that someone was corrupting our watchers on the Amythest tower. When I began investigating he fled and I have hunted him across the empire since."

Cerdic raised an eyebrow at Hilde. Did she previously know this Johan before now? The Sergeant found it quite odd they were already speaking in familiar terms so quickly. From what he had seen of the time since their arrival at the Caravan, Hilde had not been on the best of terms with the Imperial hierarchy, and this man represented the most fanatical of them all.

True, the scarred soldier was a loyal Sigmarite, but even those often were wary of Witch Hunters and their ilk, even when they were simulataneously grateful for their help and blessing. The Witch Hunters would easily burn down an entire village to kill one man suspected of being a mutant. For a second he questioned if this was jealousy on his part, but dismissed it after a moment.

He paid attention to the information now being given by Johan, not understanding the subtleties of the differences of the schools of magic. Isolde of course, knew her way around such things. The color leaving her face caused Cerdic's brow to furrow. Why would merely mentioning who this man was effect the lovely woman her so?

"This is foreboding news, Herr Strickland. If what you say is true, we might very well have a Necromancer on our hands." she said. "Do not use that term lightly." Johan warned, examining Isolde. The dark haired woman shook her head. "Believe me, I am treating this with the utmost seriousness. Allow us some time to think on what it is we do next. Is there a way we can contact you, Herr Strickland?"
@Austronaut

Hilde winced internally as Isolde made the connection between the Amythest college and necromancy. She hoped that Strickland wouldn't scrutinize the connection too much. Behind his easy smile she sensed a keen intelligence and she suspected it would go poorly for them if he should turn it upon the three mercenaries.

Strickland didn't react visibly though Hilde thought she saw a slight sharpening of his eyes. The witch hunter reached into his purse and produced a gold soverign and slapped it down on the table.

"There is a coaching inn by the east gate, ask for me there by name when you have made your decision. I am certain that you will make the correct choice." With that the witchunter came to his feet and bowed with a courtly extravagance before slipping quietly. Isolde let out a breath. Hilde licked her lips and settle into her chair, unsettled by the strange witchhunters sudden appearance and disappearance.

"Well..." Hilde exclaimed, reaching out to snag the golden coin on the table before shifting uncomfortabley.

"That was unexpected, I don't know if I trust him but there is something about him..."

@POOHEAD189

"It's the only thing we have right now." Cerdic said, his handsome face grim and calculating as he gazed into the crowd, a considering look upon his face. "At least we're on the path to something. We can't forget our main goal, though. Not even the Witch Hunters will stop me from that." he promised.

"It's not like we're here to do any chaos bidding." Isolde said, wisely with her voice very quiet. She gave Hilde a look, a moment of understanding passing between them. She still had her reservations of Hilde from when she had found her over Lord Giblrecht's body a week ago. "No." Cerdic said. "But I think we all have seen how some things can be taken out of proportion and seen as something that it isn't."

Cerdic sounded particularly tired at the moment. Not physically however. He had faced Beastman, Chaos Champions, and a Dragon, and it had not been more than a week and a half. Not to mention the death of his men, the weight of the loss only lightening somewhat after time had passed.

Suddenly he realized that finally they were relatively safe, and if it had not been for his current determination, he would have felt much differently in the company of two such fine women. Briefly he looked at Isolde's lips and remember that kiss from a week ago hence, but he grunted it away. They might be in a city, but it still wasn't safe. They had to see this job done.

Then after that was done, he'd probably never see either of them again anyway. For what it was worth, he had grown to respect these two as traveling companions. He had no idea why, but their respect of his decisions was a bit important to him. Perhaps after his men's deaths, he felt nice that someone could count on him, and he them.

He placed the keys on the table for two rooms. "If you girls don't feel comfortable sharing a room, I could sleep out here. I'm sure Frankfurdt has that happen with drunkards anyway." He settled comfortably in his chair a bit and took another swig of Ale.
@Austronaut

Hilde snorted at Cedric's delicacy. A year of soldiering with the company had stripped her of any sense of delicacy. She looked over at Isolde the other woman seemed focused on her own thoughts but what the wizard was pondering remained a mystery to her.

"It's fine with me, Isolde and I can share a bed and we can drag a pallet in for you," she declared.

"Necromancers," Isolde muttered, drawing idly with a finger on the dusty tabletop. Hilde kicked her under the table, eliciting a yelp.

"Don't talk like that Isolde, people have ears for Sigmar's sake!"

Isolde's eyes blazed for a moment and then cooled just as quickly.

"I'm sorry Hilde, it is just... people like this make me nervous," the mage stood as she finished speaking.

"I'm going to turn in, I'm exhausted from the road."

Hilde watched her go before turning back to Cedric to shake her head. Isolde had not been out in the world much and it showed at times. She produced the gold coin the witch hunter had left.

"We have a duty to get to the Countess but we need money or some sort of introduction. If this Strickland has a bad reputation it might be just as good as a favorable one, it will make us people to notice, enough to let us speak."

She turned the coin over in her hand. Cedric was a soldier, she didn't really know him but she knew the type and he had proved himself to be reliable and lucky. She didn't imagine she would survive on her own and Isolde was much too flighty to trust.

"I don't want to get mixed up with with Strickland but I need powder and shot and we need money. And what if we let this Wiener run free, more people like us will end up dead in the forest, or wherever this fiend does his work."

@POOHEAD189

"Well I got a room of my own if you two were to share." he reminded her. "But the pallet is welcome I suppose." Cerdic joked of course.
He grinned at the little fiasco between them, seeing something he had now grown used to seeing at times. "Sleep well." he bade her as she made her way away. If Hilde had spoken it aloud, he would have agreed that Isolde was a bit too used to civilized life in Altdorf.

He leaned forward in his chair. The Sergeant letting his thick hair fall forward a bit. "You don't have to sell me. I think we need Strickland as much as he needs us. You've got a point though, whether good or ill, this'll get people's attention. If we catch the bastard, I'm sure the Countess will want to look our way if nothing else."

He finished the last bit of his ale, and plopped the tankard down onto the wooden table. "Let's see him tomorrow and tell we're to join his campaign against this wizard. I'm sure he'll provide some shot for you. If nothing else, the gold crowns we're about to get will provide. I will not need to begin my employment until tomorrow night."

He knocked his fist against his chest twice and let out a silent belch within his closed mouth. "You do still have the item we are to transport, yes?" Referring to the enchanted powder.
@Austronaut

Hilde nodded, more of a placeholder than a communication.

"I have it," she acknowledged. Frowning as she realised that the powder was another suspect item that would complicate things with Strickland.

"He dosen't seem much like a witch hunter, not like the ones at the castle. He's dashing, handsome in his way," there was a tinge of bitterness in her voice.

"They would come to the convent sometimes for healing, the Mother Superior said that their souls burned too hot, or that their hate did."

"Do you have much experience with them? Are we going to be able to keep Isolde safe?"

@POOHEAD189

"I have fought beside one or two." Cerdic admitted, gazing at his now empty mug, lost in thought. "Though I generally had my men make a wide berth, if they themselves did not already give them that. They were ferocious and uncompromising in their Inquisition of finding heretics. Which I would add, I have no problem with generally. Dedication like that is often needed in these dark times. But while they make fine allies, they do not do so well as traveling companions."

Cerdic looked at Hilde. "Commander Gilbrecht was tame compared to they. If Johan thought that even for a moment that I or Isolde was a heretic, he would slit your throat to get to either of us without hesitation. At least, if this man is who he says he is."

The powerful young man's fingers tapped the table as he lost himself in thought. Something suddenly dawned on him. "Do you recall hearing the news when we first entered the city?" he asked, then shook his head. No, she and Isolde had been distracted with a certain merchant and his wares as Cerdic stood watch and heard a rumor. "Leos von Liebwitz, the Countesses brother apparently died under odd circumstances. I would not jump to conclusions, but perhaps such things as this Necromancer are related."

Just then the front door bursted open as if hit by an Ogre, and in stepped in a massive Dwarf with a grim face as if it was wrought in stone. It was the biggest Dwarf Cerdic had ever seen, though in truth he had seen very little of the stout folk during his 27 years.

The Dwarf had a golden beard and hard set eyes that were storm blue in color. He was clad in finely wrought chainmail over a tunic made of a leather Cerdic had not seen before. The two most odd things about the Dwarf were his helmet and his weapon. The Helmet was relatively simple piece of steel, with a nose guard and rimmed with bronze throughout. The weapon was a huge Warhammer that held easily over his shoulder. It had Dwarfish runes emblazoned on its Gromril head, and he stomped into the Tavern with a purpose. "Ale. Keep 'em coming." he said.
@Austronaut

Hilde concealed a stab of discomfort at the mention of Gilbrecht. The memory of the templar lunging for her throat, his eyes bulging with horror was still raw.

The idea that Cedric was still thinking about it made her yet more uncomfortable. Not for the first time she wondered if she should strike out on her own but without Cedric there was little chance she could find work as a soldier. Fortunately a change of topic presented itself.

"Barkeep! A round on us for the dwarf," she called. Shrugging her shoulders she explained.

"Maybe safer than the Hunter, he looks like someone who has tall business to take care of."

"We don't have the money for-" Cerdic started, but one look at the Dwarf and he knew they couldn't exactly turn back that offer now. The stunted warrior would have thought they were making fun of him. Cerdic would rather not tussle with someone who looked like he needed to throttle something to calm himself.

The Dwarf turned one eye on them, visible through the visor of his great winged helmet. He stared right at Hilde, and then gazed at Cerdic for a moment. "Your ale, sir." the barkeep said behind him. The Dwarf grabbed it, and bent his head back as he guzzled the entire pint down his throat. The act had Cerdic's eyes widening a bit.

The Dwarf wiped his mouth with his burly forearm, ordered another drink, and then hopped off the too-tall-stool and strode over to where Hilde and Cerdic had sat. "My thanks for the Ale, piss poor that it is. Not your fault, I suppose." he said. His voice was deep and grating. Cerdic nodded to Hilde. "It was her that bought it for you, Bearded one."

The Dwarf nodded once, appreciating Cerdic's honesty at the least.
@Austronaut

Hilde slid smoothly over to sit across from the dwarf. She marveled at the intricate detail of his mail and weapons.

"One of your kin did me a great kindness once," she said to the newcomer.

"A kindness to me and to my... family," she went on her voice solem.

"Unfortunately he was killed and I was unable to repay his courage." Hilde shuddered with remembered pain. In her minds eye she could still see the stout ranger, pierced by a dozen cruel arrows, swinging his axe and singing his death song.

"If there is something I can do for you, besides provide you with piss poor ale, it would be my honor."

"Ye've a mind for debts." The Dwarf mused, then pursed his lips and nodded. It seemed he thought it was a fine quality. He pulled up a chair without asking. The rough and ready Sergeant called for one more round of Ale for the three of them. He was a working man now, might as well. Plus with the job Johan would provide, he could afford a little bit more crowns down the drain.

"My thanks, manling." The Dwarf said, then looked to Hilde next. "Have ye two been to the Gunnery school?" he asked. It was less than half a mile down the way. The daily gunfire that heralded the different times of the day were quite audible if one was outside, even still fairly noticeable inside. "We've walked passed it." Cerdic said. The Dwarf turned to him. "Me cousin Thorin Thunderhammer worked there as an engineer until a year ago."

"What happened to him? Why is he not there?" The Sergeant asked. The Dwarf scowled. "He's dead," He chugged a pint of Ale, and then continued after a belch. "Don't know how. I came to find out myself, but the damned bastards won't let me in to question his superiors. Last I heard they were trying out some experiments of various powders, and then I get word he was slain." The next noise to come out of the Dwarf was a sigh, before he seemed to recall something. He held out his meaty hand for both of them to shake. "Thraggi Thunderhammer."
@Austronaut