The loud report of a pistol roared in the room, sending the offending thug flying back into the table, crumpling onto the ground as he slid off the ruined table, clutching feebly at a torrent of life blood. The other two thugs didn't have a chance to rise, the twin roars of the follow on shots faster then a man could readily draw two more pistols from a brace. The fat man sitting so assuredly well guarded, blanched, hands raised at the figure standing in the door, one that had been firmly kicked open. Siegmeyer Heilborg, former Outrider and now a mercenary, had been hired on to take this fat filth in alive. Trafficking Chaos artifacts or some such nonsense, and the local powers that be owed the Witchhunters a favor. And so, in turn, he was hired to ride down this fat man and bring him in for some coin. Hell, they told him the fat bastard was trafficking in Chaos artifacts, he would have done this for free. Siegmeyer glared at the fat man, speaking with a Hochlander's accent, and completely without an iota of pleasantry. [color=teal]"I'll make this simple. I still have five shots, and my employers made it clear that, try anything, I can kill you on general principle. So get up before I decide to just say you went for something dangerous, foolish fat man."[/color]

Siegmeyer stepped back, whistling for his horse that was awaiting him outside while the fatman rose and slowly walked out. Siegmeyer hopped onto his horse, and gestured to the fat man. [color=teal]"Start walking, ahead of me. Try anything, and know that my lead flies faster than you could possibly waddle."[/color] Siegmeyer sighed quietly as the fatman began moving, smelling like he had soiled himself, as he slowly trotted along behind the man. It would be a long couple hours back to civilization, and a couple hours he could not relax on. But they were a, Sigmar be praised, blessedly short couple of hours, as nothing had happened. Arriving at the local town's guardhouse, he shoved the fat man into the custody of the local State Troops that had been waiting for him to return. [color=teal]"Pleasure doing business with you lads, one trafficker, as promised."[/color] He received his coin, a decent sum for relatively simple work, and he turned his horse onto the road again. No sense hanging around, he could make it to the next town before requiring a place to stay the night.

The local town board though, caught his eye, as a new piece of paper flitted on it gently in the wind. Riding over, he lifted the paper up to get a better angle on it. Duardo de Trantio was looking for able bodied mercenaries, eh? Madman was cursed by most sensible folk, all sorts of rumors swirling around his now black name. But Siegmeyer doubted it was little more than madness that afflicted most who crossed paths with Chaos of some sort or another. They all dealt with it in their own way, some more overt than others. He still had many sleepless nights from his own experiences, but that was not the pressing issue at hand. There was coin, and food, to be had for merely attending, so he would at least go hear this man out. Memorizing the details of where to be, he turned his horse onto a new path, riding off into the still rising sun, a new destination in mind.

[h1]Some Time Later[/h1]

[color=teal]"Such a decrepit looking grounds, seems the Lord of Guilmuer has fallen onto some hard times, looks like a warband hit this place, a long time ago..."[/color] Siegmeyer sat astride his horse, resting readily on the mount while he weighed his options. Quite a few had tried to turn him from his journey, stating it was foolish at best, and absolute suicide at worst. But he had pressed on this far, so by Sigmar, he would at least see this journey done. Trotting to the drawbridge, he paused, remembering the message, and raised his voice, calling firmly into the still night, and into the decrepit looking structure. [color=teal]"Hail there! Is any soul present here? I come in response to the summons by the Lord of Guilmuer!"[/color]

Siegmeyer had made his move, and now it was a matter of waiting. He just had to hope, now, that if someone indeed did respond, they had proper place for his horse. She had seen a long trip here, for he had been on the wrong side of Tilea when he got word of this place and the gathering of mercenaries for a cause yet unknown.