For the battles contest.
Rikard gripped his hammer tightly, grimacing as splinters from the battered haft stabbed into his palm. The priest of Sigmar was part of a Witch Hunter's warband who regularly patrolled the wretched streets of Mordheim to scour it of it's blasphemies.
Now, however, things had become less routine; their scouts had reported that a similar warband comprised of the so called "Sisters of Sigmar" lurked nearby.
Looking up at his comrades, known collectively as Fra Dolcino, he scowled and addressed the captain.
"Sigismund... when may we blot out these heretics?" he growled.
The Sisters of Sigmar were considered by most of the main Sigmarite Church to be a blasphemous collective of witches and whores, and Rikard, a righteous man, could only agree.
"Patience, Rikard," smirked Sigismund, a tall man with a floppy, wide brimmed hat. "We would do better to wait until their guard is down."
"I know it is so, yet it pains me to give even the slightest respite to these..." he spat and made the sign of the hammer before continuing, "These heretical consorts of demons."
Sigismund nodded and began to speak, only to be interrupted by the sound of a crossbow firing. Both the captain and the priest jerked their heads toward the sound, just in time to see their crossbowman, Erich, load another quarrel onto his weapon.
"Blessed sirs, they have spotted us. I believe now would be the time-" he started to say, but Rikard had already charged forward. Running into the ruined building that was soon to become their battleground, he hefted his hammer and gave an immense cry: "Forward, true Sigmarites! Let the witches burn... SIGMAR HAD NO SISTERS!"
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