Responding to your uncle's invitation, you left behind the safety of your home two days ago, travelling along a muddy dirt road towards your destination- Steingart. You find yourself in the cart of a scruffy-looking traveling salesman, who sits in the driver's seat, whipping his lice-infested horse to ever greater speed.

The night sky is dark and cloudy, lashing you with heavy rains and strong, cold winds. Yet your driver refuses to stop and wait for dawn, despite the danger inherent in driving over such an uneven road in the dark night, at break-neck speed. Only the dying light of a hooded lantern illuminates the road ahead. The open wagon does not provide any protection agains the elements, and with every passing moment your driver's wares become more soaked.

Suddenly you hear the horse's hooves stamp down on something hard, and a moment later you hear the tell-tale rattling sound of the wagon's wheels rolling over wood. You've found a bridge, though you could not see it ahead of time. Your father told you that a long bridge spans a wide river just a little over an hour north of Steingart- at the very least, you take some solace from the fact that you're close to your destination.

You can't tell how deep the river is, or how long the bridge is- you pray that the driver at least knows.

Then, you hear the groaning of wood, followed by a loud crash! You feel like you're falling, then come to a full stop as the horse whinnies in what is clearly panic. All you can do is hold on to the edge of the wagon, or anything else you can get your hands on, as you feel yourself sliding down to the back of the wagon, where nothing but air separates you from the roiling waters below!

The driver whips and shouts at his steed, until finally you feel the cart is pulled back onto the bridge with a jolt.

You reach the other side of the bridge, and the driver finally decides to stop. He turns around, shouting at you over the thunderous downpour.

'Are you boys alright?'

Griff leans back to look over the edge of the bridge with a shudder.

"I'll feel better once I get an ale in me after that..."

He grins and looks around at his brothers. "Although it could be worse eh? Could be walking beasts coming out of the woods at us eh? oooohhoo!" He makes spooky sounds and waves his hands at the others with a laugh.

Ludwig pats himself down, making sure everything is still attached.

Wringing out his hat and chuckling, he gently pushes Griff's shoulder, "Quiet you. I still rember when you hid in my wardrobe one night pretending to be a bogey-man, even though you've always denied it."

"I'm all here. Jill, Winston?" Ludwig asks looking next to him to see how his traveling companions are holding up. Seeing that they're also no worse for the ride he turns to his other brother to see how he's doing.

Klaus had been napping for a great deal of the cart ride; at first, he'd been eagerly glancing around at their surroundings, but as the company of the cart driver began to pall and it became clear that they were passing little more than gloomy patches of forest and the occasional charcoal burner's hut, his excitement wore off. After sunset on the second day, he had huddled up under his traveling cloak for protection from the elements and gone to sleep.

The near-disaster on the bridge changed that, of course.

"Sigmar's sausage!"

Klaus jolts awake, arms and legs flailing under the makeshift blanket as he sits up, his heart pounding, and glances blearily back and forth at his brothers.

"What was...oh..." He leans back gingerly from the edge of the cart, trying not to jostle it too much in case there's another incident.

"I...suppose we're all right..."

"For now anyway!" Griff quips happily, grinning as he remembers Ludwigs story of the boogyman. "Still pouring rain and I'm getting hungry! Are we very far from Uncles farm?"

"Aye." Ludwig agrees, mouth watering at the thought of food, "How well I could do with some of Bundel's bread and a large bowl of stew. How far now? I can't see any landmarks in this downpour, it's thicker then, well, stew, and now I can't stop thinking of stew. Agh."

The salesman, shouts back at you, his voice barely audible over the thundrous downpour. 'That was the Ostnitz we just passed, so we're less than an hour away.'

He shrugs. 'Still can't understand why'd you want to go there. Place is cursed, I tell you! Strange things going on in the graveyard, and a witch living in the forest.' He shakes his head, disapprovingly. 'Not a place any Sigmar-loving man would stay longer than absolutely necessary. Me, I'm just passing through, and then it is on to Valenbeig, before the witch puts me in her cauldron!'

He turns around, and you are relieved to see his eyes are on the muddy road ahead again. 'Mark my words, anyone who stays in Steingart is doomed!'

"Witches and graveyards! Oh my!" Griff hoots with excitement. "Now this is getting interesting! No wonder Uncle has trouble getting someone to take over."

He'll stretch in the back of the wagon and peer around. "Certainly looks like a cheery place."

'Oh, you boys looking to take over the farm? Well then, don't say I didn't warn ya!' The driver laughs, then turns back to the darkness ahead...

The wagon rides on, and despite the rather bumpy ride in almost complete darkness, you are relieved to see a small light in the distance.

'That's Steingart over there,' the salesman shouts over his shoulder. 'Shouldn't be long now!'

"Thank Sigmar and Ulrik." Griff practically shouts. "I was half prepared to think Beastmen would start pouring out of the darkness, eh Luddy?" he adds nudging Ludwig.