Franz Lohner's Chronicle - A Prison of Ice

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.

It’s all go around here again. Saltzpyre’s taken it upon himself to convert one of the outbuildings into a chapel. Spending a good deal of his time in solitude, he is, and doesn’t seem at all inclined to share his thoughts. 

Still, I’ve a suspicion he’d have a crack at preaching, were anyone inclined to listen. But my lads have never exactly been what you’d call regular supplicants before the hammer and the comet, and as for the rest of the Five? Well, I don’t see Kerillian seeking out the word of Sigmar, do you? And the last time Bardin joined in with one of those dirges the faithful insist on calling hymns, it caused a bit of a quarrel. Apparently, shifting the tune up tempo and transposing from a minor to major key is a big no-no. But that’s Bardin. He’d make a lament sound like a drinking song. 

Anyway, I’ve been doing a bit of digging into Cinder Peak. Sienna’s been insisting for weeks that there’s a ghastly face peering out of the mountainside, and wouldn’t you know it, seems that she might be right. Records are a bit sparse, of course. They always are once you get north of the Sea of Claws, but there are a couple of legends worth tucking into.

Seems that way back when what’s now Cinder Peak was the site of a cataclysmic battle against a Bloodthirster. Now, for the uninitiated, Bloodthirsters – as the name might suggest – ain’t exactly the sorts of chaps you invite over for a bit of socialising. They’re greater daemons of Khorne. You know, the Blood God? Taker of Skulls? Lord of Slaughter? Always a mite angry, so I understand, and his Bloodthirsters are every bit as bad. Also, they’re bleeding enormous and nigh unkillable; slayers of heroes and levellers of armies. I’m not in the business of ranking monstrosities, but if I were, Bloodthirsters’d place somewhere near the top of the list. And this one in particular is, as my old mother would have said “bloody enormous”, so he probably ranks even higher still.

That being the case, I’m inclined to believe these legends when they talk about the showdown with this Bloodthirster – Va’Kharr’oth – “laying waste the mountain”. Daft bugger found himself beaten down, overpowered and sealed away inside the mountain – trapped in a cage of living rock for millennia to come. Impressive work, and no mistake. 

Thing is, there’s a bit of a conflict when it comes to who actually did the beating down and sealing away. The dwarfs claim it was Grimnir, which is credible enough as daemon-hunting was very much in his wheelhouse. Adepts of the White Wolf point to Ulric, citing the icy shackles as definitive proof, while in Kislev they tell stories of an epic mauling delivered by Ursun himself. The elves, of course, tell it differently. They say they’re perfectly aware of who did a number on Va’Kharr’oth, but that “we’re not ready for the knowledge”, which is exactly the kind of thing an elf always says, regardless of whether or not they actually know the truth.

One thing’s for certain. You can bet Va’Kharr’oth’s not in the happiest of moods right now. If he ever gets out, I’d rather yours truly wasn’t in his path. I mean, the Ubersreik Five are good, but we’ve all got our limits. Fortunately, I don’t see anyone setting him free any time soon. 

I mean, what kind of idiot would do that?