For The Good Of The Empire

[Vampire Leon Von Alucark]

Kruger sat atop his horse in a distinctive hunched manner, his shadowed eyes looking at nothing in particular, his mind wandered as the party moved along the winding road.
Snapping back to bleak reality, the Priest of Morr craned his neck and looked at each of his compatriots, his cold eyes connecting with those who looked his way. he sighed quietly and sat back in his saddle as his horse trotted along.
He wondered when the day would come where he would have to perform the sending rite upon any of the witch hunter's retinue...

Or the witch hunter himself, Kruger pondered bleakly.
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"Although personally I am quite content with existing explosives, I feel we must not stand in the path of improvement." Winston Churchill

[Captain PLowman]

Cutler trotted along near the back of the file, his eyes roaming. Suddenly he noticed the Priest of Morr gazing at him. He returned the gaze firmly, acutely aware of the weight of the various pistols on his person and saddle, all loaded and primed, ready to be fired at a moments notice. The corner of Kruger's mouth twitched, and the stare moved on to the next companion. Cutler relaxed slightly. He hadn't noticed how tense he was.
"Yes," he thought sarcastically to himself, "Freaky priests of death tend to do that to people."
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Saviour, He can move the mountains. My God is mighty to save.

None are innocent - there are merely varying levels of guilt.

[Inquisitor Powell]

Thunng wondered along in his usual ignorant happy manner. His cauldron encased gut was rumbling again, but he would wait for just a little while longer before hunting again. He couldn't have just anything, especially if they were going by boat. He needed something he could certaintly keep down.
But for now he was snacking on the last of the deer and some of the mushroom he had found before. It was still delicious, and made him feel much happier about life. His gaze wondered. He noticed how bright and happy the world was. how things looked like they had lovely smiling faces. Thunng giggled to himself, and started to wonder slightly in the direction of the trees. It sounded like they were calling to him. Maybe they wanted some of his mushrooms. They were very nice mushrooms after all. He ate another peice, noticing how shrivelled and old it looked after it had been in his pocket for several days.
He saw the preist look at him, and waved to him with a happy wave, to which the priest simply looked away with a grim yet slightly bewildered expression on his face. Thunng merely kept walking along, skipping every now and then, and smiling at all the animals he saw. Another peice of mushroom would be nice, Thunng thought...
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Love makes the world go round, but beer makes it go round twice as fast.

[Lord Uther Di Asturien]

Kraven just stared open mouthed and wide eyed at the strange actions of the Ogre and somehow he believed even his horse was staring at this in disbelief. After a couple of minutes he was able to pull himself together and finally realised he had another purpose in life. His new purpose in life was to survive whatever perils lay ahead so he could reveal to someone, anyone, that Ogres could skip.
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[DawiWarlord]

By the time the sun began to set over the monotonous, uninterrupted forest, Kristoff was weary to the bone from the monotonoua and uninterrupted ride of the whole day. Even with the heat of the afternoon sun Kristoff had buttoned up his coat and pulled his hat down low for the ride, but somehow he was still coated in dust from head to toe.

The pace set had been rigourous, first loping the horses for a quarter of a mile, then dismounting to walk alongside the mounts, then remounting to trot for a quarter mile and then lope all over again. Breakfast had been eaten hurriedly before climbing into the saddle, lunch had been eaten - hurriedly - while in the saddle, and if they did not reach the next town to fall off their horses, eat a good meal and in no hurry at that, Kristoff was of a mind to do something regrettable involving the small store of alcohol kept in one coat pocket.

Even lost within the darkly wandering thoughts of his tiredness, Kristoff was able to see when next he looked up the small town nestled off to the left in the clearing cut into the trees, and it was with a silent thanks to Sigmar that he reined in his horse at the point where a smaller path branched off from the main road toward the town.

"At last, a place to get some food and rest," he said to his equally tired companions. "What do you say we get the day's ride over with?"

Without waiting for any answer, he urged his weary mount forward, to arrive a scant few minutes later at the group of medium-sized wooden buildings that made up the town. Some were obviously dwellings, here was a mercantile store, there a smithy, and off to one side a small outdoor shrine to Sigmar. For the moment, though, Kristoff's attention was all on the inn occupying the center of the town. A large building and fully three stories high, with a stone chimney on one side and stables on the other, it was the most welcome sight Kristoff believed he had seen since Altdorf.

On his way to the stables, Kristoff saw the reason for the town's size and realized where they were. On the other side of the settlement a broad expanze of river threw back the reflections of the setting sun, and the small antler-bedecked chapel nearby proclaimed it to be the Talabec, sacred river of Taal. Also on that side of town were docks with three piers extending into the water, though no ships were docked at present.

Dismounting from his horse, Kristoff hailed a stableboy who had been sitting on some hay and staring at the strange party, most especially Thunng. After repeating his orders the second time, realization of the witch hunter's uniform served to overcome the boy's awe, and he disappeared into the stable with Kristoff's horse before returning for the other steeds.

From the corner of his eye Kristoff caught a flash of bright colour, and turning around revealed an undisciplined knot of armed townsfolk sporting scarlet bands across arms and weapon hilts approaching warily.

As the others saw to their steeds, Kristoff turned toward the newcomers and calmly awaited their approach, and the attention of the others.
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"Ephemeral wretch, begotten by accident and toil, why do you force me to tell you what it would be your greatest boon not to hear? What would be best for you is quite beyond your reach: not to have been born, not to be, to be nothing. But the second best is to die soon." -

Silenus to Midas

[Inquisitor Powell]

Thunng stumbled along behind the others. He was feeling far less happy than he was in the forest, now that the effects of the fungus had worn off. He was still moving without the usual ogrish confidence he usually had, instead his feet were dragging and he was holding his head, lest it fall from his meaty hulk of a neck. With bloodshot eyes he saw the rest of the groups horses being taken to the stable next to the inn.
His eyes followed Kristoff as he casually walked away from the stables, and saw the approaching band of thinlings coming their way. Thunng tries to stand straight and put on a menacing expression, managing only to have his arms limply by his sides and looking through half closed eyes. His hand rested on his small club however, great bands of thinlings holding weapons were something he associated with trouble, and fun at the same time of course.
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Love makes the world go round, but beer makes it go round twice as fast.