It was sudden, shrill and so warped by the dense fog that it took Krysthenna a moment to understand what she had heard. Then came another, and a deeper yell of alarm, then a cry of pain from elsewhere. Krysthenna spun, staring hard into the fog to see what was happening to her Chosen. The faithful near her massed protectively, more of them piling up by the moment as they stumbled from the fog to join the frightened mass of steaming bodies.

‘Lantern Bearer!’ came a thin shriek.

‘Oh, Sigmar. Get it off! Get it off!’

‘Yannick? Yannick where are y–’

‘Pray, my Chosen, pray with all your might and hold your lights aloft,’ ordered Krysthenna, her heart thumping in her throat. ‘This is a test. Only the truly faithful shall be permitted to walk the path of the heavens. Only they shall pass the cleansing gates and walk the road to beauteous Azyrheim. Think of that golden road. Picture those glimmering fields, the starlight that makes them glow. Believe it all shall soon be ours, our reward well earned and paid for in pain. Pray with me now.’

And, as cries echoed through the thickening mist, she led her flock in the prayers she knew would keep them safe.

‘Oh Sigmar, God-King of the heavens and all the Mortal Realms…’

A flurry of screams and cries, growing closer.

‘Shield us, your humble servants, in our hour of greatest want…’

A heavy splash from the direction of the canal, and a terrible wet gurgle.

‘That we might continue on along the path of the faithful…’

An inarticulate shriek of pain, and a crunch that Krysthenna knew was bone.

‘And return to you upon the day of the Last Warning…’

A flare of fire somewhere to the right as something was engulfed in the flames of a torch.

‘With our hearts full of faith and our songs full of love…’

Doubt, creeping into Krysthenna’s mind like poison as the awful sounds continued and something dark flitted overhead, there and gone. She fought it desperately, for if she, the Lantern Bearer, allowed the worm of doubt to creep into her soul then they would all be lost to the rot. Yet how did one not think a thought? The more she tried to focus upon something, anything else, the more the doubt forced its way in. Krysthenna took a step back and something crunched underfoot. She looked down and stiffened as she realised that fat black beetles carpeted the road in a squirming mass. She gave a small, involuntary moan of horror. A figure to her left shrieked as something snatched him away into the fog. Krysthenna’s heart pounded as she strained to see through the mists, trying to work out what was taking her flock, trying to understand why their prayers were not working. Was it her doubt? Had she damned them at the last?