Please allow me to introduce myself, I am Leoderic Carnstein, a lord in service to Prince Vlad of Sylvania. My sacred duty to the prince requires that I stay on watch always for his enemies, for they are many. This is what brings me to Mordheim, the ever growing menace of a Chaos insurgency.
Long have I watched those erratic, twitchers who react out of emotion rather than a long-suffering study of the enemy. But that is due to their spiritual ties to the demon lords from the aether. Yet there is one I seek to make my slave, one Zhaneen whose white-blonde hair drew my attention as I watched their engagements. Oh what wonders I could teach her by the chains of the still-chair, and the empty mystical bowels that seek her blood. Judge me not, for her privates will be hidden from me by iron fans and chain bras. In this chair I would teach her to enjoy taking her own blood–how to crave it. And gently would I woo her, with a careful, tender hand–cold as ice.
My last understudy threw herself from the top of my tower, screaming all the way down. Why? Suffering was perceived to be a real quality by her. She could not adopt the vampire stoicism, and so her world was suddenly dissolved by one nihilistic leap of logic: Nothing truly matters.
My ghouls took her body and embalmed her with the necessaries in order to create the illusion of life. Down in the bottom basement she rests now, entombed in old earth to show respect for what she could have been. And in the roots of my tower, her spirit rests, strengthening the mortar of the blocks that make up my fortress.
But alas, Zhaneen.
After the necessary hazing by blood and pain, and when she becomes the bride of the dark view, it is only then that we will act together on the field of honor. She will be taught to grip the lance, and I will be at her side with shield and sword. And in my time-sheathed mind I now see us cutting a swath through time, sharing the spoils, creating an empire once…again.
