As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, its fading light cast long shadows across the cobblestone streets of Nuln, signalling the onset of nightfall. With each passing moment, the city retreated into darkness, its once vibrant thoroughfares giving way to the quiet embrace of twilight.
Inside a luxuriously appointed coach, Atlas reclined comfortably, his gaze fixed on the ever-receding glow of the city lights as they dwindled in the distance. Beside him sat Strickler, the newly transformed vampire, his features concealed beneath the protective shroud of a talisman bestowed upon him by his maker.
"As we approach the city gate, do you notice the heightened security, Strickler?" Atlas inquired, his tone casual yet observant.
"Yes, it's quite unusual," Strickler replied, his voice tinged with curiosity. Then remembering his position added on respectfully, "… my lord."
"The disappearance of the city lord's daughter," Atlas continued, "has put them on edge. But they won't find her. I've taken care of that matter." He revealed his hand in the situation, divulging his involvement in the girl's disappearance.
Strickler's eyes widened in surprise. "You... you raised her as undead?"
Atlas nodded calmly. "Indeed. She's been commanded to flee far from the city, ensuring her fate remains forever shrouded in mystery."
With a sense of satisfaction at having evaded detection once more, Atlas signalled to the coachman to continue their journey. The rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves echoed through the night as they approached the gate for the final inspection. Behind them followed the carts and footsteps of those he'd recruited; it seemed for many humans gold trumped their fears of vampires.
Atlas, who had anticipated the heightened security had already sent his undead and his forbidden items out of the city several days earlier.
As they approached the city gate, Atlas and Strickler found themselves halted by a group of guards, their stern faces illuminated by flickering torchlight.
"What business do you have leaving the city at this hour?" one of the guards demanded, eyeing them suspiciously.
"We are simply travellers seeking new opportunities beyond Nuln's walls," Atlas replied smoothly, his tone betraying no hint of unease.
The guards, however, remained sceptical, their scrutiny intensifying as they proceeded to inspect their belongings. Despite their thorough search, they found nothing incriminating, only the essentials for survival and exploration.
Growing impatient with the guards' persistence, Atlas reached into his purse and withdrew a handful of gold coins, offering them to the captain of the guard. "A token of appreciation for your diligence," he remarked, his voice tinged with subtle sarcasm.
The captain's eyes lit up at the sight of the gleaming coins, and with a nod of approval, he motioned for his men to stand down. "Safe travels," he grunted, stepping aside to allow them passage.
As they passed through the gate and left the city behind, Atlas glanced back with a smirk, reflecting on the ever-potent influence of greed among mortal men. With a shake of his head, he urged the coach forward, eager to leave the city's confines and embark on the next chapter of their journey.
-----------------------------------------------------------
As Atlas and his entourage traversed the Empire's sprawling landscapes, they bore witness to the ever-changing tapestry of nature, each passing season painting the world in hues of wonder and transformation.
In the crisp embrace of spring, they journeyed through meadows ablaze with wildflowers, their vibrant colours dancing in the gentle breeze. Villages emerged from the thawing earth like buds unfurling from winter's grasp, their inhabitants eager to embrace the warmth of the sun and the promise of new beginnings.
As the days lengthened and summer's embrace enveloped the land, they travelled beneath azure skies adorned with wisps of cotton clouds. Fields of golden wheat swayed in the sultry air, a testament to the bounty of the season. Towns bustled with life, bustling marketplaces alive with the chatter of merchants and the laughter of children.
With the arrival of autumn, they traversed woodlands adorned in a tapestry of fiery hues, where leaves ablaze with crimson and gold carpeted the forest floor. Harvest festivals dotted their path, their aromas of spiced cider and roasted chestnuts mingling with the crisp air.
And as winter's chill descended upon the land, they journeyed through landscapes cloaked in frost and snow. Villages nestled beneath blankets of white, their hearths glowing with warmth against the cold. Yet even amidst the harshest of seasons, their spirits remained unyielding, fueled by the promise of a new land and the bonds forged in their shared odyssey.
Through the changing seasons and the passage of time, Atlas and his band of followers remained steadfast in their quest, their journey a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring allure of the unknown.
At each stop along the way, they replenished their supplies and recruited new followers eager to join them on their quest for a new beginning. Some sought refuge from the trials of their past, while others harboured dreams of forging a brighter future in uncharted territories.
Individuals from all walks of life rallied to his cause, drawn by the promise of prosperity and freedom that lay beyond the horizon. With each new addition to their ranks, their caravan swelled in size and strength, a testament to the allure of the unknown and the camaraderie forged in shared purpose.
To avoid too much controversy, the siege of Altdorff was still fresh on people's minds, he adopted a different persona. Concealing his vampirism, he instead volunteered the fact of his necromancy to would-be-comers. While many left, those that remained were more loyal, convinced that through his magic they could create something special.
As they pressed onward, the landscape unfurled before them like a vast canvas awaiting the strokes of destiny. And with every mile travelled, Atlas and his growing band of followers edged closer to the promise of a new dawn, where the echoes of their journey would resonate through the annals of history.
Then they reached Wolfenburg.
Wolfenburg, cradled within the rugged embrace of the Middle Mountains, stands as a bastion of strength and prosperity in the heart of Ostland, a jewel among the Empire's cities. As the capital of its province, Wolfenburg boasts a rich tapestry of architectural splendour and bustling commerce, its streets alive with the vibrant pulse of trade and culture.
Encircled by formidable walls that rise defiantly against the looming shadows of the Forest of Shadows, the city exudes an aura of security and protection, offering sanctuary to its inhabitants from the perils that lurk beyond its gates. These stout defences, once a bulwark against the encroaching darkness, now serve as a beacon of hope and stability under the watchful eye of the von Raukovs, whose firm hand has brought order and prosperity to the land.
Within Wolfenburg's labyrinthine streets, one finds a harmonious blend of tradition and innovation, where ancient cobblestones bear witness to the passage of time, and soaring spires reach skyward in testament to the city's enduring spirit. Market squares teem with merchants hawking their wares, the air alive with the melodic cadence of bargaining and bartering, while guild halls and artisan workshops hum with the ceaseless activity of craftsmen honing their skills.
But amidst the city's bustling thoroughfares and grand edifices lies a sense of solemnity, a silent acknowledgement of the dangers that lurk beyond its walls. Yet, it is this very sense of vigilance that binds the people of Wolfenburg together, instilling within them a fierce sense of loyalty and camaraderie as they stand united against the encroaching darkness.
In the heart of Ostland, Wolfenburg stands as a beacon of resilience and fortitude, a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Empire and its people. And as the crossroads of trade and culture between Kislev and the Empire, it remains a shining symbol of hope in a world fraught with uncertainty.
Atlas didn't need the AI chip to give him background on Wolfenburg, he knew it well. This was where the Atlas grew up as a mortal. The memories might have been inherited, however he could fully distance himself entirely from them.
His family, the revered House of Jungfreud had been influential nobles of the city, owning some of the gold mines that made this region rich and renowned. His family's wealth had been so great that it had even attracted the vampires. Vampires which orchestrated his family's downfall.
As Atlas stepped into the run-down tavern, the air was thick with the scent of stale ale and the muted murmur of weary patrons. The walls, once adorned with vibrant tapestries, now bore the scars of neglect, their faded colours barely discernible amidst layers of grime and dust. Tables and chairs, worn by the passage of time, creaked beneath the weight of weary travellers seeking respite from their journey.
Taking a seat in a secluded corner, Atlas listened intently to the whispered conversations that echoed through the dimly lit room. It was then that he caught wind of a shocking revelation: the noble house of von Jungfreud, his own family, had been dismantled for their association with vampires. His father, once a pillar of aristocratic society, had met his end at the hands of justice, his crimes framed by his beloved son; Atlas.
The news struck Atlas like a bolt from the blue, his thoughts swirling with disbelief and uncertainty. He had long since severed ties with his family, but the revelation of their downfall sent a ripple of unease through his veins. However, amidst the chaos of his emotions, a glimmer of intrigue caught his attention: one of his brothers, Franz, still lingered in the city, albeit under a new guise - Jaeger.
Intrigued by this unexpected twist of fate, Atlas resolved to investigate further, his curiosity drove him to uncover the truth behind Franz's newfound identity and the merchant company he sought to build from the ashes of their family's legacy.
Atlas had read many of the books around this fascinating and complex world, with one of his favourites being the adventures of Gotrek and Felix. Felix Jaeger. A descendant from his family bloodline.
While a very human part of him wanted to find and embrace his brother once more, he knew he had no right to such a welcome. He knew there would be days, perhaps centuries in the future when he could stand before his family once again and aid them openly. For now, he would have to support them in the dark.
Taking a piece of parchment and scribbling a note for Stevan, his business manager back in Nuln, he gave him instructions to work with his brother's company and support them.
"Goodbye brother." He whispered above the note before leaving with the barman to be mailed.
The Dark Lands awaited.