Lohner's Chronicle - The Citadel of Eternity
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.
Turns out that Saltzpyre’s been thinking about the long game. I mean, we’ve all seen that things are getting worse around here, with no immediate hope of improvement, but Saltzpyre’s actually come up with a suggestion about what we do about it. And I’ll be honest, it’s not the one I expected of him.
According to Saltzpyre, there’s a place up in the grim north called “The Citadel of Eternity”. Never heard of it myself, but he’s adamant there are clues scattered about, if you know what you’re looking for. Supposedly, it’s a place close to the roof of the world, near enough that you can speak with the gods, if that’s your poison. And I’m not talking about the Dark Gods of Chaos, no – those buggers can hear you anywhere, so I understand. Proper gods. Sigmar and the like. Gods who might lend a hand, if we ask ‘em nice.
Apparently, the Order of the Silver Hammer has known about the Citadel of Eternity for some time, thanks to the liberal deployment of thumbscrews and red-hot pokers. It’s the kind of secret they don’t want out in the world, which makes it all the more surprising that Saltzpyre’s proposing we see if we can find the bloody place.
Didn’t exactly look happy when I coaxed that part out of him, if I’m honest. He knows that even contemplating the idea’s going to get him put on his fellow Witch Hunters’ naughty lists, should they ever find out. But he did perk up a bit once he got the words out. Even did that thing we let him think is a smile. You can tell it’s been weighing on him. A man like Saltzpyre lives his life bounded by rules, and breaking them’s scarier than all the red-hot pokers in the world. That’s how I know that no matter how bad I think things have gotten lately, they’re almost certainly worse.
Anyway, he’s asked me to keep it to myself for the time being. Wants to approach the others in his own good time. This ain’t gonna be some Festag stroll. It’s an expedition, right into the heart of the very worst bit of the world, and it’s gonna take a lot of preparation.
How do I feel about it? Still figuring that bit out, if I’m honest. I mean … just imagine if we could get a bit of divine intervention going. Faith’s all very well, but it don’t last forever. Not that I’m expecting old Sigmar to come striding down out of the heavens wreathed in lightning – though wouldn’t that be something? But a word? A blessing? Something to keep wavering hearts in the fight, and give us all a bit of hope that it’s possible to turn things around?
Yeah, I’d settle for that.
But then again, I’m not the one traipsing up into the Chaos Wastes.
