Franz Lohner's Chronicle - If Wishes Were Warhammers

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.

Well, it’s definitely a bitter livelier around here. The lads have been taking Saltzpyre a lot more seriously ever since he donned a Warrior Priest’s armour, and that little chapel he’s been using as a pulpit is starting to look like it’s not going to be large enough for the crowds he’s drawing. Some folk are even schlepping up from the local villages, which is something all by itself. Saltzpyre, of course, is feeding on this like some kind of spiritual vampire. Whatever lack of confidence he had at the start of this new career is rapidly becoming a memory. 

Ordinarily, that’d worry me, because we all know what pride goeth before, don’t we? As it happens, I’ve a horrible feeling we’re going to end up with bigger fish to fry. 

Case in point, do you remember how I blamed Bardin’s sticky fingers for the recent spell of bad weather? You know, him breaking the terms of the pilgrimage and inviting disaster? Well, I may have been a little hard on our bearded kleptomaniac. Olesya’s offered dire warnings of something nasty gathering in the north, and it’s not just on Bardin’s head, but everyone’s.

You see, until the Ubersreik Five started traipsing around the Chaos Wastes, none of the northlanders knew about the Citadel of Eternity. Or at least they were ignorant of its significance. Let’s face it, a bit of confusing architecture and swirly magic ain’t exactly a rarity up beyond the Sea of Claws. As for the skaven? They may look clever, and fancy themselves little ratty geniuses, but they’ve got some big old blind spots in their thinking. Comes of hailing from a society that would rather steal than create, I reckon. But then I was always a cynical sort.

That’s in the past now, or so Olesya reckons. The Pactsworn might not exactly know why we’re interested in the Citadel of Eternity, but that we’re interested at all is enough for them to take a bit more notice. Who knows what kind of mischief they might get up to if they attempt a twisted version of the pilgrimage? If Saltzpyre really did hear Sigmar’s voice up there, then why wouldn’t a devout little ratty manage to twist the ear of the Great Horned Rat. More than that, what would he ask for? 

And it’s not just the skaven. There are all kinds of dark powers floating around the Chaos Wastes, all of them hungry for worshippers and the status that goes alongside. I once had a mate insist that the Chaos Gods only exist because they’ve co-opted “the emotional backwash of events fundamental to human striving”. That’s why their power ebbs and flows, or so she said. Then again, it was late, and drink had been taken. 

But I’ve been thinking about that more and more this past week. What if that’s why Sigmar’s a god? Not so much because of the deeds he performed while a mortal man, but because the Empire’s need for a divine saviour made it impossible for such a saviour to not exist? What if all the Citadel of Eternity does is magnify that longing and make it real? Give one man the influence of a nation, if only within his own mind?

I won’t be sharing my little theory with Saltzpyre, that’s for sure. “Oh, hello Victor. Did you hear Sigmar’s voice because he spoke to you, or because the Citadel knew you desperately wanted to hear it?” Can’t see that ending well, if I’m honest. Raises a bleak spectre with Kerillian as well, doesn’t it? Saltzpyre heard what he wanted to hear, and so did she… only our elf’s never quite had the self-confidence she pretends, has she? 

Worse than that, if the Citadel of Eternity is just a big old wishing well with fancy architraves, what happens if the Pactsworn start wishing at its altar? 

Cheer up, Franz. Might never happen.