Emmerich's note

The threat to the north of us, in Norsca and beyond, is far greater than any of us realize. Seven years ago, I fought at the edges of Kislev's northern borders, commanding a regiment of troops aiding in the defence of that realm, lest it be engulfed by the Norsemen - something I am now certain is an inevitability, rather than a possibility. The Norscans and the horrors they brought with them were too much for us in the last battle I fought, there, and we were all but slaughtered to the last man - only a few survived, I had later found out, brought to Praag by the Kislevite Hussars that had meant to aid us, but arrived too late.
I myself awoke in a small home in the Kislevite wastes, my wounds being tended to by an old, fattened, somewhat jovial looking hermit that called himself 'Necoho'. It took a long time for me to recover and be able to stand and walk on my own again - several months, I would find out upon my return. We spoke much of many affairs, but most importantly, we discussed the gods and their nature. I learned much from the hermit, and came to the conclusion that the worship of gods is folly. The gods we worship do nothing for us. We pray but they do not answer. The Norscan gods do answer to their servants, and it is terrible - doubly so are their acts.
So, too, are the acts committed in the names of our own gods. Were it not for Karl Franz I, who for reasons unknown to me has now turned against my family, Sigmar's templars would be killing people for as minute a reason as a malformed toe, still, claiming it to be a sign of mutation and corruption, a threat to the Empire. I have seen the true threat to our Empire, and I am more than confident when I say that the execution of farmers with strange toes is not how we stem the tide against it. At the same time, I know how deep-rooted the corruption within our borders is, and how hard it is to root out - and so it is I found myself forced to took action in Hugeldal, held in the grasp of a doctor in league with one Doktor Festus, whom I know to be a servant of the Norscan 'Rotfather'.
When I departed from his hut, Necoho gifted upon me the tome that I have placed this letter upon, and from it I learned a great many things. The End Times are coming, and there is naught we can do to stop it - I know that now. This did not stop me from trying, at first, and I sought out any and all information that could aid me in this purpose. I read of Frederick van Hal, or Vanhel, and of the sorcery he brought forth to battle the beastmen below. I sought to learn such powers, to use them for similar ends, but found myself incapable of such - although one that does hold such powers seem to dwell in my lands, now. A cruel jest by fate, mayhaps.
I ordered Hugeldal destroyed, to root out the corruption there, although I realize my judgement may have been clouded, and the measure too drastic. I mourn the death of the people, even if I thought - and still find - it to be a sad necessity. 
Likewise, I paid for several individuals to retrieve my youngest cousin from his confines deep below Ubersreik, of which I learned through loyalists residing within the city, still. I deeply regret that I did not send more, or did not accompany them myself, for I wished for nothing but the boy to return to my brother, and for him to continue his studies of moss and insects there.
My crimes are mine alone, and I did not involve anyone else in them, least of all my family. I ask for nothing other than my crimes to be held as mine and mine alone - I alone bear the blame for them and beg, futile as it may be, that they are not used to tarnish the Jungfreud name any more than I already have, myself, and I hope that my confession here will see to that.
The Everchosen comes. I have done what I thought could aid in stemming the tide, but I have failed, and all this world has left for me is to participate in the squabbling and internal strife that will turn us all into nothing but a carcass, rife for picking by the Arch-Enemy.
I cannot.

Type

Journal, Personal