Franz Lohner's Chronicle - Deathly Earnest

An absent-minded man of mysteries, Franz Lohner relies on his bulging journal to keep track of occurrences, intrigues and arguments around Taal's Horn Keep. Sometimes his notes are even useful, believe it or not. The Franz Lohner Chronicles are extracts from that journal.

I’ve been hearing things lately. I mean, I always hear things - it’s part of the job and goes with the territory, if you see what I mean. But most of what I hear these days has to do with northlanders and ratmen exclusively. You know the drill “By Sigmar, some ratman warlord has taken over an abandoned dwarf hold” or “Some northlander dirtbag has stolen the Emperor’s favourite hat”. Business as usual. Only what I’m hearing this time is more related to bodies already dead, rather than them what’s trying hard to make others dead, if you follow?

You see, a little while north of here there’s a town called Merxheim, and it’s managed a quieter existence than most since this recent round of unpleasantness started. But good things never last, as my old mother used to say. Starting about a week ago, they had a bit of a problem with the dead not staying where they should. Great hunks of rotting flesh ambling around snacking on brains and drooling all kinds of festering fluids to boot. I’d have sent our lot to take a look, but this was smack dab in the middle of a pilgrimage, so the option wasn’t available.

So I did the next best thing: I dropped a line to an old mate of mine who just happens to be a Commander in the Knights of Morr. Now, Ernst ain’t exactly a cheery sort - most of that lot have got long faces at the best of times - but when you’re looking down the barrel (or should that been “into the grave”) of a zombie outbreak, that’s probably for the best. No one likes a necromancer taking liberties with the dearly departed, and the Knights of Morr like them less than most. Morr’s the God of Dreams and the Dead, sworn to protect those what have been eternally interred, and making mischief with a corpse is about the worst thing you can do if you’re looking to stay on his good side.

So, anyway, Ernst and his grim bunch go riding into Merxheim and deal with the problem, cutting down every worm-infested crawler that ambles into their sight, and tracking down the source of the trouble: a reprobate delighting in the name of Morgath the Puppeteer. 

Only … right before Morgath gets introduced to a nice bit of cleansing fire, he starts babbling about how it wasn’t his idea. That he was paid, and paid well, to start causing a bit of mischief in the Helmgart region. Call me suspicious, but I do wonder if this was meant to be a trap for yours truly, or perhaps even the Ubersreik Five? Ernst lost a lot of good lads and lasses storming Morgath’s lair, and the Five might be good, but they’re not invincible, are they? 

Might be we’ve been getting complacent about this old Pactsworn-smiting malarkey, earning enemies we didn’t know we had. Then again, with necromancy involved, I can’t help but think of Sofia Fuegonasus. Or maybe it’s nothing to do with us at all, and I’m just that curious mix of paranoid and self-important.

Yeah. I’m sure that’s it.