“Monsieur Raymund, it’s good to see you here.” A brettonian knight called out for the imperial delegate. He lifted his grail sword which started to emit a yellow fire, but he ignored it and continued to polish.

“Ser Bourdogne, such a successful knight and you’re living here?” Raymund restrained his condescension towards the muscled brettonian and smartly kept his mouth shut. “I would think that a successful questing knight such as you would pick a less… Humble living.” Well, that’s obvious. He’s a brettonian nobleman. He took a quick look towards the messy group of knights and their… Normal-looking men at arms and couldn’t help but be disappointed. A group of adventurers that likes to eat, drink and fuck. Their god, or is it goddess, must be displeased. At least in the Empire, the nobility has a burdensome responsibility of leading punitive campaigns against the brayherds of beastman, greenskins and other mutant abominations. But they… They just like to throw away their noble responsibility for… For alcohol and sex. Oh, and fancy jewelleries. That peasant must be enjoying the amount of money I’m making for him.

“I think we know each other quite well by now. You’ve been here for just over a year. I think you ought to call me Antoine.” The muscled knight continued to polish his sword whilst taking time to cast judging glances towards his comrades. “The only reason why I live in Bregonne is because once the Lady of the Lake has given you permission to drink from the Holy Grail,” he stopped and paused whilst his eyes started to glow. “Your life, as you know it, simply changes. The Goddess gives them strength and valour. But gives them… Gives me visions. Visions where the Holy Grails are. Visions of monsters as well. I came to this land, not for the Holy Grail, that would taint me of greed. But to seek out monstrous foes and vanquish them for the Lady. The more monsters I kill, the safer it is for my fellow brettonians to come and settle this bountiful land. Anything other than that, is to succumb to worldly temptations and I must avoid it at all cost. That is the way of the Grail Knights.”

Raymund hid a guffaw and stopped himself from opening his mouth. He’s not lying. Antoine’s earnest and honourable goal completely took Raymund by surprise. “A very honourable aim to aspire to Ser Antoine. This dark world would be much brighter if we had more people just like you.” He looked at the men at arms and peasant mob and was genuinely confused. He wanted to ask this question that has been burning inside his mind for the past year but couldn’t ask it, in a way that would not offend the brettonians. Especially Lord Marcel. “Antoine… Can I ask you a question? Please don’t get offended by it. I just want this particular ignorance be dealt with.”

Antoine raised his eyebrows at that and bid him to ask the question.

“The peasants here. They’re quite different to peasants… In other parts of Brettonia.”

The Grail Knight laughed and wiped a tear from his eye causing Raymund to flinch in fear. “It’s very fun to hear you try to say that politely.” He then stared at the peasants. “There are different. I won’t give you a full history lesson of why they’re like that, just a brief one. A lot of these peasants come from Parravon. A dukedom in Brettonia. In that dukedom, it’s customary for brettonian children to leave their family, once they’re old enough, and start a new life in another village. Some stay there and eventually form a family. Others go back to their original village. This is good because it scatters the peasant population and therefore reduce the effects of… Inbreeding. That’s why those people are not as misshapen and deformed as the rest of their countrymen. Hopefully, that’s fixed your ignorance that not all brettonians are inbred.” He jested in the end.

“That’s very interesting. It seems that it served Parravon well. Why hasn’t the rest of Brettonia adopted it?”

“That… That I don’t know. Perhaps, it’s the pride and arrogance of the other Dukes?”

The two maintained their conversation about other Brettonian culture until a herald announced Lord Marcel’s presence.

The Lord of Bregonne stood on a raised dais and calmy looked at the assembled host of brettonians and their chivalry. “My men! I’m sorry to have called for you unannounced. But yesterday, one of my scouts has discovered something deep inside the jungle! An entire city that has never been discovered before. Probably full of golden relics, treasures and other jewelleries!” A distant and excited murmurings spread across the host. “The scouts have managed to find a path. A path inlaid with stone that lead to an underground cavern. I have called you all here to explore the cavern and establish an outpost for a second expedition to explore the abandoned city. And as per brettonian laws, the sharing of loot is divided where the peasantry gets one tenth and the nobility gets nine tenths of the loot. Now, on to your horses, pack your supplies and get going. We must hurry before other people find it!” A huge roar erupted amongst those gathered and they quickly dispersed. Squires armoured their knights, peasant camp followers packed their supplies and men at arms hefted their weapons.

Whereas the imperial delegate simply stood frozen and contemplated. More treasures? More abandoned cities? Should I inform the Empire or keep this to myself… I may get away with it because there’s no way that anyone from here is going to leak the information. But… My duty to the Empire? His greed and duty to the Empire warred with each other but thankfully his duty won. He quickly ran towards the large wooden manor, assigned as the Empire’s embassy and written a letter to Klaus. “Hey! Raven master! Send one of the ravens to bring this to New Altdorf. To Lord Stanhelm.” Hopefully, Klaus would appreciate this. I could even send him some of the loot. But it may be spent by that peasant. He frowned and ran to his bedroom and struggled to armour himself with a skull-carved chestplate. I usually have servants to do this for me, but I have to get back before they go!

He mounted a destrier and raced towards Marcel’s army and was relieved that they had just started to march. Trotting his horse towards the Grail Knight but stopped as he saw that he was with Lord Marcel. He quietly sneaked up on them to eavesdrop in their conversation.

“My lord, is it wise to bring an army through this jungle. Bregonne may be left undefended and may not survive a reaving from the dark elves. They may be attacked by the lizardmen.” Antoine said with concern.

“Bagh! You honestly believe in those lizardmen? We’ve been here for half a decade and our scouts hasn’t seen them. I honestly think those foreigners in the Settler’s and Scorpion’s coast were just drunk when they spotted those ‘lizardmen’. I’m bringing this army so we could loot that cavern as much as possible. The scouts say that it’s some sort of burial grounds.” He licked his lips and swayed his clenched fist. “Finally! With this, our reputation within Brettonia will soar! Maybe get King Leoncoeur’s funding and some of those enchantresses that specialises on healing. I’m afraid Shallyan priests are not enough to contain outbreaks of mosquito fever.”

“That’s good my lord. We need more enchantresses.” The knight bowed and trotted backwards and spotted Raymund. “Oh, Raymund. I didn’t see you there. I nearly bumped into you.”

“I’m sorry for listening in but I heard something about a fever?”

“Yes… Mosquito fever. A horrible disease that seems to inflict untold pain and suffering. The Shallyan priests investigated the cause and found out that it was caused by tiny flies, called mosquitos, hence the name. They like to spawn in the swamps upstream of river Amaxon.”

Raymund mentally filed that useful piece of information for later. “That seems like a horrible disease! When we get back, I need to inform Lord Stanhelm about it so we can take precautions against it. You said that their breeding grounds were in swamps?”

“Yes. But it can also be anything wet, damp and moist. That’s what those priests and priestesses said.” He said with admiration. “Those Shallyan priests are a blessing. If it weren’t for them, the outbreak would’ve been much worse. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to stop the illness all together. We need those enchantresses.”

“Don’t you need the permission of the ‘Fay Enchantress’?” Raymund asked and struggled to hold down a snicker. A beautiful woman that seems to come out of the ‘Lake’ and calls herself the personal representative of the Lady of the Lake. It seems too blasphemous. If someone turned up one day and claimed that they’re Sigmar’s incarnate, we would probably burn him in a stake. Don’t those barbarians realise that she’s just a witch. A witch that’s good at swindling and scamming. Honestly… Brettonians could be so superstitious most of the time.

“Looks like you’re not only taking time to learn brettonian culture but also brettonian deities. Impressive.” He smiled at him. “But you’re right. Hopefully, with the lure of bountiful treasures in this gravesite and the city, we may convince our King. And he may convince the Fay Enchantress.” He then hummed. “Do you know the Enchantress’ real name?” He asked and continued their last conversation.

“Morgiana le Fay.” Raymund answered with a little bit of arrogance thinking that he’s right. Then suddenly something colourful came into his view and swiftly disappeared. He craned his neck and squinted his eyes. He kept on looking at the top of the tree and noticed that it wasn’t fully flat… It wasn’t natural. It did not fit the contours of the tree and stood out abnormally. He calmy told the knight and discreetly pointed at the tree. “Antoine… Notice that part of the tree. At the top.”

The Grail Knight heeded his instructions but noticed nothing. He just saw the tree. “I don’t see anything.”

“Look at the outlines… Something is sticking on that tree. It was something colourful. Very colourful. Then it just disappeared! I think… I think it looked like a lizard. A very big one! With big eyes!”

Antoine then looked around and noticed some white spotted mushrooms near them. He then pointed to it. “You must’ve been suffering some sort of hallucinations caused by the spores of those mushrooms. When I was hunting out here, I also experienced the same thing. Sudden colourful patterns blinding you. But its nothing to worry about. It should last only a few minutes. So, you’ll snap out of it soon.”

Raymund breathed a sigh of relief at that. Thankful that the lizard that he saw was just conjured up from his imagination. He then combusted in laughter. “It must’ve been terrifying for you Antoine. Hunting for something then that happens.”

“Oh, it was. I thought my spirit was being leeched by a witch!”

The host marched through the forest and briefly followed river Amaxon upstream, and slowly but surely a massive triangular structure jutted out towards the sky. Outgrowths of vine and other plants covered its yellow stone with greenery. “That temple looks like the one from New Altdorf. But… Strangely it looks well managed. Suspiciously so, for an ‘abandoned’ city.”

“Knock it off. You sound a bit too paranoid.” Antoine chided him.

“Sorry. I think it’s those mushrooms again.”

A group of Errant Knights escorted their Lord towards the tomb’s entrance. Both Antoine and Raymund followed. What they saw was a spectacular display of gold. Gold pillars carved in intricate patterns that seemed nearly repetitive. Torches with no oil emitted a bright blue hue of light. It must be fuelled with magic. They marched down the stairs and looked around for any traps. Portraits carved into the sides depicted all sorts of reptilian animals. One of them was a snake and a crocodile, normally found in the rivers of the Border Princes, and it was shrouded with a sun. Gold was everywhere. Gold reflected the blue light and mirrored their footsteps.

As they got down, several of the knights were unnerved by their ghostly mirrors following them. Fortunately, no trap was encountered, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Large rectangular boxes lined the bottom and one can only describe them as coffins. Most were eager to see what was inside and quickly opened them one by one.

Alien and unknown shapes of bodies filled the tomb. They were fully covered in straps of cloth but Raymund noticed their shape. What seemed to be like a head had a long snout. With the cloth partially decayed, he could see that the carcass had sharp teeth. Long and vicious-looking nails were present on their ‘arms’. Rotting skin that seemed like leather. What are these? Mutants? Why would they be honouring mutant scum with a lavish tomb such as this?

“Thank the gods it isn’t Geheimnisnacht. If it was then the spirits of these mutants may have killed us.” He muttered beneath his breath but was heard by Antoine.

“Geheimnisnacht? Is that when the twin moons Morrslieb and Mannslieb are present in the sky? In Brettonia we don’t really have a name for it. But most call it a ‘Day of Mystery’.” He asked knowing the answer.

“Yes… But why honour these abominations? They’re clearly mutants!” Raymund spat in anger.

“No idea. But best start looting, imperial. Otherwise there won’t be anything left. Look! There’s a golden staff in there.” One of the knights said in reikspiel.

Shocked and slightly thankful that he finally heard some reikspiel outside of the embassy. He then eagerly approached the man. “What’s your name, my good man. It’s refreshing to hear my mother tongue from someone other than an imperial.”

The man desperately stuffed his pockets with coins and other relics but managed a reply. “Rodrick… Rodrick L’Anguille. A paladin. Nice to meet ya, imperial.”

He seems interesting. “My name is Raymund von Schwarfen. Nice to meet you herr L’Anguille.” He said in reikspiel.

Dozens of peasants came down with chisels and hammers and started to remove the relics stuck to the hole. They loaded it and carried it towards the top. Hours passed by as mountains of golden treasures were piled up. Then night came.

“Hey you there! Peasant! Help me put up my tent.” Raymund demanded

“But milord… Me family needs help with their tent.”

“Did I stutter? Grab those nails and see those ropes? Plant the ropes in the ground and stake it with the nails! Do it or I shall tell Lord Marcel of your disobedience! He may have you whipped for disobeying your betters!”

The peasant then shivered and did as he was ordered. Satisfied with the peasant’s work he joined the Grail Knight in a campfire.

“We got overboard with looting that mutant tomb. We didn’t even realise that the sun was setting when we were back there!” Raymund pulled a silver medallion out of his pocket and swayed it side to side. “Look at this! It’s glowing slightly! This must be some sort of magical artifact. It looks like Mannslieb, the white moon.”

The knight looked serious and ignored him. He looked around at the bush but didn’t see anything. But he heard it. He stood up and waved his squire away, “No thank you Jacques. I think I need my armour. For now.” He readied his sword and went towards the swaying bushes.

Puzzled, Raymund grabbed a torch and ran after him. In a split second a large upright crocodile with a metallic shield ran towards him and thrusted a spear in his direction. Panicked and shocked he stumbled down and luckily avoided a spear stab. The walking crocodile salivated with his eyes narrowing and ran towards him again. By then, he was resigned to his death and waited for the inevitable as he closed his eyes. He continued closing his eyes and noticed that he was still alive and opened it back again. He saw the reptile with a fiery grail sword impaled into its chest

Screams and shrieks of death rang across the camp and both immediately tried to regroup with other people.

Several of the mutant spearmen surrounded his saviour and one was standing right in front of him. The crocodile circled around Raymund and noticed that he was looking slightly different. The mutant then narrowed its eyes as it homed in into his silver medallion,

The mutant was completely cladded in gold. Bearing one of the moons as its symbol. It then gurgled and hissed and spoke. It Spoke?

“T-thatsh the one! You have one the Old One’s relicsh! You have shtained it with your filthy handsh. How dare you! My name is Quatl, a Shaurus Warrior. Let my name be the last thing you hear before you die!”

The mutant charged at him and ripped his arms away from his body and amputated his legs. He saw a fountain of blood spraying all over him as dozens of other muscular mutants came out and crowded him. They heavily salivated and bit down on his dying and helpless body. His head was decapitated during the feeding frenzy and he saw with horror as his head was crushed and chewed. The last thing he heard was someone calling out for his name.

Raymund then woke up and bolted upright. His forehead was glistening with sweat and he shook uncontrollably. Breathing hard and heart pumping way too fast, he unconsciously clenched his chest. Another nightmare… Damn it! He scanned his room and noticed someone with his head concealed by a hood standing in the doorway.

“Lord Schwarfen. Urgent news. The port in Nahrstadt is being attacked. Those privateers have reneged in their agreement, my lord.” The hooded man gave him a slip of paper.

He read it and crushed it with his hand. Quickly, he threw it in his fireplace.

He donned a thin but concealing cloak that had a hood on to hide his face. He beckoned a group of the ‘state troops’ loyal to him to come and follow him. The group of armoured and armed men were avoided by the people, as they waved across the streets in New Altdorf until they stopped in front of a warehouse. A warehouse guarded by thugs.

The thugs withdrew their knifes as they saw the state troops surrounding them and unsheathing their swords.

“Your all nothing but minions of his. You don’t deserve to die due to his stupidity. So, leave. Or die.”

Dropping their knives, they sped away and left the door unguarded.

Raymund unsheathed his sword, “Five of you on me! The rest secure the building and make sure no one comes out. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my lord!” They all shouted prompting Raymund to charge inside.

As they stepped inside, they were unexpectedly surrounded with a wall of flame.

From the flames emerged a bearded man with sleaves on his arms cut short revealing his tattoos on his bicep. He raised his hand and conjured a tiny orb of flame and pointed it towards Raymund. He repeatedly clicked his tongue as he paced around the fire. “Raymund, Raymund, Raymund. You don’t strike me as someone so treacherous and deceitful. What happened? Why would you do this to someone who saved your life?”

“Don’t bother playing games with me Rupert! You betrayed me first! I told you not to attack any of the Empire’s colony! Just the merchant ships!” He trembled a bit, but courage welled up inside of him and he raised his sword towards him.

“Oh… That? You know I’m a disgraced fire wizard, right? Not a shadowmancer. I can’t deliver orders from miles away. Except for light signals…”

“Why are you lying? In my time schmoozing with you lot, you seemed to have competent and loyal captains! It would make sense if you ordered this in your behalf.”

“I’m honoured that you think so highly of me!” He cackled which caused the flames to dance. “But do trust me. My fleet is currently hidden deep in the river Amaxon. I wouldn’t dare sally them out after your Admiral… What was his name again? Hofstein! Yes! Hofstein. What a brilliant man! Seemed to know every single bit of our movements…” He slowed down his speech at the end and stepped towards them and teasingly sent a few throngs of flames towards them. “As if there was an impostor among us.” The fire wizard then clapped his hands which expanded the tiny orb of fire. “Interesting isn’t it? Very interesting… You speak of me betraying you. But I could also say that you’ve betrayed me first… Do you know how many ships he boarded and sunk?”

“I did no such thing. I meant it fully that the colony is being poisoned with mercantile interests! Soon this would be like Marienburg demanding their independence! The only way to prevent this is to install imperial nobles as its governors. Only nobles can be trusted with expanding and uniting the Empire. Not peasants! With your help, we can rectify that mistake!” He seethed and ranted. His honour was intact and he betrayed no one. He hasn’t betrayed Klaus nor Rupert.

“Nice rant… But it still doesn’t explain anything…“ He expanded the fire and it crept slowly towards them and engulfed one of the state troops. When suddenly the fire disappeared, saving the burning swordsman. “You know what kid… I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. You don’t look like a schemer to me. So, let’s drink it out in one of the taverns! I’m sure this is all just a big misunderstanding.” He then walked towards the slightly burnt man and helped him stand up. “I’m sorry about that my good man. You should’ve moved out of the way. I wasn’t trying to burn anyone. Honest!”

Raymund was a bit dazed and confused as he was cheerfully pushed out of the door and was met with several of Rupert’s mercenaries tying his state troops. Then… Then who’s attacking Nahrstadt?

“Tying them is unnecessary. Just let them go. Me and Raymund over here will sort out our difference in a drinking fight! No one is allowed out of this warehouse without my permission. Always stay hidden! You hear me!”

“Yes Flamehand!” Rupert’s cronies shouted.

The two entered the tavern and Rupert casually ordered two mugs of ale and drank both of them. “Oh! Sorry kid. You wanted one?” He beckoned for the bartender to come to him. “Make sure to serve this kid some juice.” The bartender gave him a knowing look and lightly laughed.

“Yo-You don’t mind that I was trying to kill you a few minutes ago?” Raymund timidly asked.

“Kid! When you’re in this position, someone somewhere out there will hate your guts and will want to kill you. I’m used to dodging death. Though, I wasn’t in danger of dying from you. You still look like a puppy that’s been kicked out from its home.” He laughed and chugged another mug.

“I-I wasn’t kicked out. I left voluntarily…”

“Fhwahahah! We had this conversation before! Way back when you were in death’s doors. Suffering from mosquito fever, thin as a stick and pale as a banshee.”

“I don’t remember this.”

“Well of course you don’t, you daft moron. You were muttering in your sleep. I think the fever was giving you some hallucinations. You talked about your family. How much you hate them. For kicking you- “

“Enough! Who attacked Nahrstadt?!” Raymund stood up and slammed the table which caused a few to stare at him. Sensing the glares he received, he promptly sat back down again. I probably shouldn’t have done that! That’ll cause panic.

“Kid, you need to calm down. And the answer to that is ‘I don’t know’. You’re the one with spies. Spies that gave you shit intel. I think you have faulty spies, kid.”

“I don’t have ‘faulty’ spies. I warned you whenever the Lustrian fleet sailed out and where their positions are. I think my spies has managed to penetrate all of the councillors and the governor himself!” Upset by his accusations to his competence, he quickly defended himself.

“The spy that gave you information in the morning was false. He was planted by me.”

“Why?”

“Like I said… I thought you were the impostor. Acting as a double spy for Admiral Hofstein. Lost lots of boons in those ships he captured and sunk. But it nay matter! Got more money to spend!” Rupert then asked for a few more mugs of ale. “And judging by your stupid and not-well-thought-out course of action, it convinced me that your too much of a dunce to fool me.”

He gritted his teeth and stole one of his ale and drank. “So… What do we do now, Rupert? And I’m sorry for trying to kill you.”

“It’s fine kid. I already forgave you. And… For what to do next… Maybe we sweep the ‘Band of Flamehand’ of any traitors. That’s going to take a while. For you… Expand your spy operations. Perhaps, some of your spies could be women working in that new brothel. Men say a lot of things when they’re drunk and have a hot lass riding them! Speaking of hot lasses, when are you getting one? You’re nearly thirty.”

Raymund blushed and drank more mugs of ale. “None of your business! My duty to the Empire is above my wants!” He stopped drinking and spontaneously asked a question. “Wh-why did you save me?” He said while swaying his head.

“At first, I saved you because you look important. An important imperial noble’s son. Could fetch me a very good ransom.”

“Sorry to disappoint. They’ll never pay you the ransom.”

Rupert pushed the mugs away and turned to look at him. “Yea. I know. You wouldn’t stop saying it in your sleep- “

“You were talking to me when I was asleep? That’s creepy.” Raymund said.

“Yes, I was! People with hallucinations tends to make them honest. You just need to know how to ask the right questions. In fact, listening to your mutterings, I found a second reason why I saved your life.” He smiled and paused awkwardly.

“What was the second reason?” Raymund asked with burning curiosity

He gulped and decided to grab another drink. “That’s a story for another day! For now, we wait and strike when the opportunity is ready.”

“No! We’ll look for other peaceful venues first before resorting to any violence. You may be a rogue and a disgraced wizard, but you’re still a Sigmarite. Wholly devoted to the Empire’s prosperity. We can’t do that if we seized power violently!”

“Your naïve, kid. What do you suggest? To ‘peacefully’ kill people until we’re in power?”

“How about no killing. Lord Klaus has seven years left in his colonial mandate. Maybe we could petition Emperor Franz to appoint a nobility to a position of a margrave.”

“Sure, I could get behind that. But that nobility has to be you. Only you. Anyone else and we’ll start ‘peacefully’ killing people until we get what we want.”

Raymund rolled his eyes. This is going to be a long seven years.