In the small town of Kelgar located near the Grey Mountains in the province of Wissenland, a hanging was in order for a spiteful, young, and very mouthy heretic. Witch Hunter Axel Dieter stood before the one-noose gallows and tipped up the brim of his hat. His prisoner was due any minute now, and there was to be a hanging with a subsequent pyre to burn the heretic of his filth and send him to whatever foul things he worshiped in the alleyways at night. Axel checked his four pistols, all holstered on the two belts lashed over his fine black button-up shirt and beneath his brown cloak. He tapped his thick, steel-toed boots with anticipation. This wasn't any ordinary hanging, and even though he'd like to believe it wasn't, this was more personal.

It had all started the previous night, when this foul little wretch had decided that it would be quite the funny prank to agitate a witch hunter and his retinue at a tavern. Fortunately, Axel had been alert and ready, as he always was, and had apprehended the Chaos-worshiper before he could perform any more disgusting, vile deeds than he already had.

Axel stared dourly into his ale stein and narrowed his eyes as lightning flashed in the sky outside, casting his shadow through the tavern. All was silent, save for the rain outside, the thunder, and the constant dripping of water through a crack in the ceiling. Beside Axel, there was Acolyte Gustav, young, but faithful. His entire head was shaved and wore nothing but a pair of trousers and a badly worn shirt beneath his grey cloak. Around his neck was a pendant made in the shape of the Sacred Hammer, the symbol of Sigmar.

Gustav was by no means a foolish man, but was sometimes overzealous where he should not have been. His cold blue eyes were always scanning every single person that walked by, every pauper in an alleyway, every single child that shied away in fear. Gustav was intimidating, with broad shoulders and a ever-unpleasant frown upon his face. He was a good witch hunter, one of the finest acolytes that Axel had ever seen. Overlooking his faults, he was soon going to become a full-fledged witch hunter. Axel lifted his stein and drank up, noting that the amber liquid flowing down his throat was rather bitter and distasteful. Still, it was better than nothing.

Gustav tapped the witch hunter on the shoulder and leaned in close, his rough features becoming unpleasant at this distance. Axel let out a small sigh and set down his stein, using his leather glove to wipe his mouth. He tilted his head to the side to listen to his acolyte.

'Master Axel, the three men sitting opposite of us near the door…they're not right,' he said worriedly. Axel barely had to turn his head to find the three men that Gustav was talking about. He was rather, though he didn't know whether it was pleasantly or unpleasantly, to find that the three men weren't right, at least not to the witch hunter's trained eye. At first glance, to a commoner, these three men were simply waiting out the storm in a tavern, much like Axel and his acolyte were. At a closer glance, it was clear that this was not so, and the witch hunter knew this.

The first of the three had hair that was too bright yellow to be natural, at least not for anyone born in Wissenland. He had a long nose, pointed and crooked as well. Clothed in pauper's rags, holes filled his garments as if he still had rats gnawing through them. But in stark contrast to his incredibly poor and dour look, he wore a golden ring on each forefinger. The two others flanking him both wore similar hole-ridden dull brown garments. They looked to be brothers almost, with unmistakable similarities between them. They both had the same brown hair and narrow eyes. Each had a silver ring around their middle finger.

'Aye, acolyte, something is not right. Let us wait and see if any more come before we dispatch them,' Axel said softly. The acolyte shifted uneasily and his hand reached for the notched mace at his belt. Axel glanced at the window to see a man staggering through the street, the darkness obscuring his features and clothing. Axel pulled the wide brim of his hat down just a tad and his left hand slid very slowly to his primary firearm, a powerful handgun with a bayonet on the end. If anything happened, he would shoot first and ask questions later. Sigmar's servants would not be struck down because they weren't fast enough. Besides, the witch hunter had always prided himself for having never been struck by a heretic.

Axel glanced back at the heretics as they conversed in hushed tones, and the man from outside pushed open the front door. Weet footsteps resounded through the quiet tavern and all the patrons, save for the witch hunter and his acolyte, watched the man sit down with the heretics and pull something out of his pocket. The newcomer shivered with cold, deep green trousers soaked wet and torn white shirt clinging to his thin frame. With a bony hand, he handed the former contents of his pocket to the man with gold rings.

The latter immediately examined the condition of what Axel recognized as a letter, and then slapped the newcomer in the back of the head. Axel furrowed his brow, but kept himself obscure as a low din began to rise within the tavern. It was good enough for Axel, because that meant the heretics though the noise would cover their words, and they could now speak freely.

'Fool!' the gold-ringed man whispered furiously. 'Had this been damaged, your head would not be were it is now,' he hissed in the same tone.

'I apologize. This storm was sent by greater powers to delay us. The carriage is waiting for us.' The apparent leader downed the last of his stein and stood up, belching noisily as he cast a quick glance around the tavern as if to make sure he would not be followed. His gaze met Axel's and the man froze at the sight of the witch hunter and acolyte. Axel felt a tiny smirk tug at his lips. This couldn't have been any easier. The man's horrified look literally said "dark powers, he's a witch hunter" and Axel pushed his chair back in response.

The man immediately backed away and, pushing his two comrades and the newcomer aside, made for the door. Meanwhile, the other three began to draw weapons, a dagger for each of them. Axel quickly drew his pistol, and due aiming with his left hand and from the hip, managed only to catch the fleeing one in the left leg. The man stumbled, but made it out the door and into the street. Axel nodded at Gustav, who unceremoniously ran and leapt out the window. The pane shattered and in came the howling wind and rain. Overhead, lightning flashed again.

'Witch hunter, this is where you die,' one of the brothers said, a glare in his green and purple eyes.

'Come heretics, and I shall cleanse the filth that is you,' Axel snarled back.

Axel, an experienced veteran of several fights that almost mimicked this one down to the very face of the man who'd just run, knew exactly how this one would play out. He holstered his pistol, drew another two, smaller ones from within his cloak, and fired. The newcomer was pushed in the way and used as a shield. Both lead shots cracked the same rib and the man dropped to the floor, lifeless.

The two brothers sprang towards Axel with their daggers held high. The witch hunter threw his guns aside and drew his own, black, notched mace. He jumped back as the first man stabbed and avoided the small weapon's sharp point with ease. One swing from his heavy mace tore the man's arm off at the elbow and send it skittering across the floor. Axel hadn't expected more than a break of bones, but this was an excellent result. The man roared in pain and anguish, falling to the ground and drumming his heels like a child as blood sprayed from the wound.

The second man almost connected with Axel's shoulder, but the witch hunter blocked with the haft of his weapon at his assailant's wrist. The man withdrew from immediate danger and leapt back, picking up the dagger that had fallen from the first's grip. Axel took this time to kill the first one because the man's cries were growing tiresome and rather annoying. A second swing from his mace crushed the man's upper chest, blood gurgling from his throat as the weapon lodged itself in his body.

Axel pulled his weapon up, and with a loud sucking noise, it came free from the corpse. The second man, seeing his brother had been killed with such ease, must have decided that it was not worth the fight. He turned tail and fled. He didn't get three steps before a blade was rammed through the side of his head and pinned him to the wall. Axel was delightfully surprised that not all of the men in this tavern were standing around like idiots. He found that the one who'd stabbed the heretic was a young man, of about twenty summers, dressed in a leather jerkin and chainmail hauberk beneath. In his hand, there was a long blade currently buried in a heretic's skull.

'I am glad to see that not every man in this building enjoys seeing such filth run free,' Axel remarked coldly, moving to retrieve his two pistols. The man removed his blade from the heretic's head and wiped the blade on the fresh corpse's ragged clothes. He sheathed his blade and looked around for a moment before speaking, as if to shame those who took no action to help the witch hunter.

'If not the men who are able, then the man who is willing,' he replied, probing the corpse with his foot to see if it were really dead. It didn't move, at all, and the man was satisfied. He stood at the door, apparently waiting for Axel to say something. When the witch hunter said nothing, the man asked, 'What of the corpses?'

'Burn them at once. Such filth is not to be left to rot and spread its taint as it pleases,' came Axel's quick and harsh response. The other patrons of the bar, still in complete silence, began to move as indirectly commanded. Axel looked outside and saw that his acolyte was hurriedly running down the street towards the tavern. Both Axel and his armed ally met the large man at the door. Gustav was panting furiously, pointing an excited finger to the right. He was almost swinging his mace with excitement as he struggled to speak.

'An inn…just down…road…more of them…we…slay the heretics!' he finally yelled at them end, almost as if it had been tearing at his throat to get out. Once again, Axel knew that Gustav was overzealous, but sometimes you needed a man who knew nothing but faith and fury. Who could know when you'd need a man like that? Axel nodded to Gustav and then to the man who had helped him minutes earlier. Axel loaded his pistols quickly and then lit up a torch just before he left. He drew his coat tight about his body and stepped out into the rain, brow of his hat drooping from the berating raindrops. Tonight, he had an inn full of heretics to burn.

Just before Axel was going to call for his acolyte, the witch hunter heard Gustav's prominent and angry voice and the heretic snapping back at him in a foul tone. The witch hunter saw his acolyte with the heretic, hands bound behind his back and clothes badly torn by the man holding him by the neck. Gustav almost had to drag the heretic to the gallows, but he did so without any complaints. He had once again gained a sort of sneaky glimmer in his eyes that betrayed his calm, grim look. He was enjoying this hanging, much like he had enjoyed the last thirteen, and the two burnings before that. Axel didn't believe that he could ever get Axel to control his excitement when the hour to slay heretics was upon them.

Gustav brought the heretic up to the gallows and reached up for the noose meant for his captive's neck. Before Gustav could move the heretic into place, the Chaos-worshiper spat on Axel's shoes, growling softly. The witch hunter simply ignored this action and made a slight gesture for Gustav to begin with the hanging. Axel was silent as he held lightly the pendant of Sigmar. His acolyte roped the noose around the man's neck and tightened it up to the nape of his neck, a cold grin beginning to form. He looked to Axel, but the witch hunter was busy trying to figure out where they should go next in their quest to make Gustav a full-fledged witch hunter and root out Chaos where it had thrown its evil seeds. As he thought, it struck him that the man who had killed the fleeing heretic in the tavern, wasn't here to see this. A pity. He could have been a good witch hunter if trained properly.

'Master?' the acolyte questioned, bringing Axel out of his reverie. The witch hunter shook his head and arched an eyebrow.

'Aye?' he replied. Gustav shook the rope around the heretic's neck to emphasize the fact that he wanted to begin. But before Axel could open his mouth, a horrible shriek pierced the air and the moment Gustav had been anticipating was lost.

'There, kill the witch hunter!' said the voice from down the way. Gustav, instantly realizing that this was no good citizen of the Empire of Sigmar, pulled the notched mace from his belt and leapt from the gallows, his cloak fluttering behind him as he hit the ground. The heretics emerged from an alleyway down the street and began running towards Gustav and Axel, trying to save their leader. There were about eighteen in all, and Gustav looked as if he could take the lot of them. The acolyte pulled a shortsword from behind his back and charged back at the heretics. The acolyte was backed by Axel, who took down two heretics with his smaller pistols. Gustav bellowed a great roar as he swung his mace and took one heretic beneath the arm, nearly decapitating the man's upper torso and shoulders completely.

The greater portion of the heretics fled, but seven ran right past Gustav and continued towards Axel. The acolyte, seeing that there were foes that could possibly escape, charged after them with a curse and a prayer to Sigmar. The townspeople that had decided to watch the hanging now fled in a hurry, leaving Axel by himself against seven foes, all armed with heavy clubs. Things didn't look too bright for the witch hunter. Still, Axel drew his last small pistols and took another two down to whatever hell they believed in. He pulled his mace and pistol from their places on his belt, stepping off the platform for the fight.

Unfortunately, before he could even begin with the rest of the heretics in front of him, something connected with the back of his head and sent stars flashing before his eyes. He realized just before he blacked out that it had been the heretic's foot, the one who was to be hanged just moments ago. Axel was unconscious by the time he hit the cobblestones.

The witch hunter awoke only an hour later, his head throbbing like a goblin war drum. He cracked his eyes open and found that it was still daylight. What surprised him most of all was that he was still even alive to see the light. Was this where one went after death? And if so, why did his head hurt so badly? Axel quickly dismissed the thought when he felt his head being jerked back and forth. Something had happened to preserve his life, that much was for sure right now. Perhaps Gustav had returned to save him? It was unlikely, but still, it would explain a few things. So help the man if this was Gustav shaking him back and forth at the moment!

'Ah, you're awake, witch hunter. Glad to see we'll be hanging a conscious man today,' the voice of the heretic rang throughout Axel's ears between the throbbing of his temples. In the first moment, Axel was confused, and then he was instantly angry and furious. The heretic was still alive! Axel's eyes shot open, only to behold a small gathering of eight heretics before him, one of them standing on the platform he was one as well. The heretic had a leer on his face.

'Damned be the day that the likes of you kill me,' Axel said, slamming a foot between the heretic's legs. The corrupted man fell to his knees and wailed with pain. Axel tried to kick the life out of him, but the fallen man was out of reach. And it was at this time that he noticed something odd about himself and the heretic. Axel was currently wearing only his heavy boots and his undergarments, while the heretic was wearing all of his clothes! The man had even stolen his cloak! Axel fumed with rage and anger, but said nothing more.

After a few moments, the heretic stood back up and glared at Axel, who returned the look ten fold.

'And in the name of Tzeench, I sacrifice a witch hunter! Slow and painful shall his death be!' the heretic yelled, stomping down on the trap door beneath Axel's feet. The witch hunter dropped, but his years of watching these kinds of events had taught him one thing. Because his hands weren't bound to his waist, he could grab the rope. And he did just that, pulling himself up just enough to keep from being hanged. Though the floor was gone, Axel was still breathing, and kicking wildly to keep the heretics at bay. None of them wanted to close in towards a steel-toed boot.

And as Axel hung there, he began to spin slightly, turning him tot eh right. He saw, in a darkened alleyway, a familiar person. In the alleyway, crouched behind a crate, there was Gustav, ready to fight. The only problem was that he wasn't doing anything. Axel's entire body, fueled by the fact he was being hanged, seemed to roar at the acolyte through the portal of his mouth.

'Gustav, you blithering idiot! I'm being hanged! Do something you oaf!' Axel roared so loud that he could have shattered windows. Upon hearing the witch hunter's plea for help, rather that be command, Gustav roared a battle cry and a prayer, running from his hiding place and towards the heretics. At first, the eight foul men didn't know what was going on, and it was all too late as Gustav closed the short gap between them and smashed both weapons into two different foes, smashing a shoulder and cleaving off a head. Gustav whirled in a circle like a furious monster and decapitated three more. He took down the last three in a flurry of strength and sheer hatred, all the while screaming that the heretics must die.

The heretic next to Axel tried to escape, but a well-placed foot to the back of his head by Axel took him down and he fell to the floor, unconscious. Now we're even, bastard, Axel thought bitterly as Gustav cut him from the noose. He was about to slay this heretic too, but Axel raised an arm before him. A malicious grin spread across his face.

'No, Gustav. I have a better fate for this one. Go find some firewood and bring more rope,' Axel commanded. The acolyte nodded silently and ran off to do his duties. Meanwhile, Axel put back on his hat that had been resting on the ground and spat on the unconscious body of the heretic. 'Try and hang me, will you?' he said to no one in particular.

At sundown, the townspeople lit a bonfire in front of the gallows to cleanse the dead heretics of their taint. Axel had even thrown his clothes into the great flames, saying that they were tainted now, and that they were of no further use to him. Right now, however, the heretic was just waking from his temporary slumber and blinked in confusion. Gustav held the man aloft, on the modified platform just above a large pile of logs and kindling for a fire. Axel held a torch high and smirked at the heretic, who's eyes went wide at the recognition of what had happened hours earlier.

'And now, heretic, you have two choices. You can either be burned alive,' Axel stated, motioning towards the large pile of wood beneath the heretic's feet. 'or you can hang yourself,' he finished, motioning to the noose around the heretic's neck. His hands were also bound together and at neck level, giving him the choice to loosen the rope around his neck for air.

'Your gods shall fall before the mighty Changer of Way! You will all die soon!' the heretic roared in defiance. Axel shrugged.

'Not so long as men like us defend them,' he replied, tossing the torch in his hand onto the pile of wood. It caught ablaze and Gustav dropped the man through the widened hole in the platform. The gallows wouldn't burn, but the heretic hanging over the fire most definitely would. Axel simply stood and watched as the heretic tried to hang himself, and then out of reflex, loosened the rope around his neck and drew in a breath of air. He screamed for mercy and a quick death, but Gustav, the townspeople, and Axel all simply watched his torment. The fire burned slowly, and the heretic wasn't silenced until sunrise, when he fell into the fire, screaming curses all the while.

For this hanging, and only this hanging, both Gustav and Axel had the same glint of bloodlust in their eyes. Neither looked away from the fire until it was long burned out, charred and blackened bones of the heretic resting in its ashes. Afterwards, Axel was given new clothes and a new cloak. He rode out of the small town on his steed, Gustav next to him on his own mount. Axel was pleased. It was a fine hanging.

A fine hanging indeed.