Travel through time and become a member of the Warhammer Empire

"Sir, where are we going?"

The captain asked the question on behalf of everyone.

Wendlow took a deep breath of the cold and polluted air and slowly uttered a word.

"Evacuate."

He paused, observing everyone's reaction, and then elaborated on his subsequent plan, which was a stop-loss and asset transfer plan formulated by an excellent businessman after assessing the risk of bankruptcy.

"First and foremost, we cannot leave our fellow citizens on the front lines unprepared."

Windlow looked at the captain and the two veterans beside him who were the most alert and most familiar with the northern terrain.

"Captain, I need you to lead the team yourself. Select two skilled personnel and return to the Golden Wall as quickly as possible. Report everything we've seen and heard in Hesgrin and the Brass Mountains, especially the spread of the Nurgle Plague and the intelligence on the Nurgle Beasts, to Master Galt in person."

He deliberately emphasized the beasts of Nurgle and the plague, but concealed the judgment in the dream that the empire was doomed to fall.

There is no absolutely secure intelligence. No matter how well a letter is sealed, its contents may be known to every soldier.

If I wrote a statement about the front line being unable to hold on and shook the morale of the army, the already low morale of the Imperial troops would be more fatal than the corruption of Chaos.

"Understood, my lord."

The captain nodded solemnly. He understood the importance of this information and the considerations behind Windlow's move.

"Secondly."

Wendlow turned his attention to the remaining twenty or so soldiers and militiamen.

"You will follow me. We won't die on the front lines, but we can't just sit there and wait for death. Let's go south to Altdorf first."

"Aldolf?"

For the Hawke people, they don't like the empire's capital, Altdorf, very much, and they dislike the arrogant Ricke people and various bustling cities even more.

The Hawklanders only like the quiet forest and the smell of burning gunpowder every morning.

Go to Rick County? I'm afraid no one is willing to do that.

"Whether you are willing to go with me or want to go home, come and line up here to get your travel expenses."

As a businessman, Windlow has a habit similar to that of a politician, which is to give others the opportunity to choose.

He did not explicitly say that everyone must follow him, but the soldiers showed complex expressions on their faces, including attachment to their homeland, desire to survive, and more importantly, trust in Windlow.

"We will gather in Altdorf in three weeks to see how the situation develops and make some preparations. Those who wish to bring their families south can do so. I won't force you to do so."

He gave people a choice, but everyone understood that staying in the North was almost a dead end.

In the end, except for the captain and two messengers who were responsible for the mission, everyone else chose to follow Windlow.

The team broke up on the spot.

The captain took two veterans with him, and carried a report dictated by Windlow, briefly recorded by a literate soldier and attached with a map, and resolutely headed north, returning to the death front.

Windlow and everyone else separated, took their own paths, and began to disperse using the forest and terrain as cover.

The journey that followed was long and depressing.

The city of Hejig, the capital of Hawke County. Currently, the Elector of Hawke County has gone to the front line, but there is no change in the city.

With the coming of the war, the bandits who had originally made a living by robbery and looting suddenly had a stable source of income and joined the free militia.

The public security around all cities has improved a lot, and with the coming of war, a large amount of military supplies need to be transported all the way up the Talabek River next to the city, and the river transportation business is very busy.

Most of the tickets were heading north, and it was extremely difficult for Windlow to buy a ticket heading south.

And even if you have a boat ticket, there is no direct ship to the capital, Altdorf. The closest and best route is to go down the Talabek River and go ashore in the city of Uberek.

Even Glenberg doesn't allow ships to dock, let alone the capital, Altdorf. It's already considered good enough to be able to buy a ticket to Uberik City.

It took only three days for the small boat that Windlow was on to sail downstream through Altdorf and continue to the city of Uberik.

This is a medium-sized city built on both sides of the river. Small ships purchase some ores mined from the Gray Mountains here and return to Hawke Territory to do business.

While admiring the exquisite stone bridge built by the dwarves in the center of the city, Wendlow was thinking about what business he could do here.

The streets were bustling with activity, with merchants, craftsmen, haulers, and all kinds of people going about their business as if there had been no terrible war in the north at all.

At this moment, he needed to find a place to stay and gather information.

"Red Moon Tavern?"

After passing the Dwarf Bridge across the center of the city, Windlo, who had just come ashore, discovered such an ancient signboard.

Through the tattered door panel, you can see all the decorations and business facilities inside at a glance.

"It's not extravagant, nor is it cheap. It's just like the most ordinary tavern in the empire. You can eat, sleep, and even gather intelligence."

Windlow's analysis was quite correct. In such a mixed place, one could definitely hear news that was not available through official channels.

Pushing open the weathered wooden door of the Red Moon Tavern, a familiar smell of ale, stew, tobacco and sweat hit me in the face.

It was no different from many of the Imperial Taverns he had visited, noisy and crowded, but with a sense of the authenticity of life at the bottom of society.

I randomly found a corner seat against the wall and sat down. The owner of the Red Moon Tavern did not show the enthusiasm of other tavern owners.

He was wiping his wine glass at the counter, and only spoke to greet him when Wendlow walked up to him.

"A good dinner and a beer, lots of meat, but not too fatty, and preferably a roast chicken, a whole one."

After a long journey, and considering that he did have the money to spend lavishly in this kind of tavern, Windlow directly asked for the highest configuration.

However, the tavern owner casually took down a roast chicken hanging in the oven, placed it on a wooden plate, and completely disassembled the roast chicken with two cuts.

Then he grabbed two steaks from the stew pot with his bare hands. They had been cooked for who knows how long, cut them into pieces of the same size with a few more knives, and threw them all onto the plate.

Finally, he took a full glass of beer.

"15 copper coins."

"I need another room for one night."

"30 copper coins."

After doing all this, the tavern owner still had an expression as if it had nothing to do with him. The only action he took was to put a key into the plate.

"Second floor, first room."

I wiped the oil off the keys, took out my knife and fork and tried the taste of dinner.

The roast chicken was completely dry and not marinated. As for the steak, I wonder if it was cooked for a whole day.

At least the beer tastes pretty good, which may be the only reason why the Red Moon Tavern has not closed down until now.

The topics of conversation among the drinkers around us mostly revolved around the war, the fighting in the north, the rising prices and taxes, the requisitioned ships, and occasionally some local trivialities and vulgar jokes.

Windlow listened carefully, trying to sift out valuable information, such as overland merchant caravans heading south, or private ships that were not strictly controlled by the military.

The voices in the tavern gradually faded as the night deepened, and the shadow of war seemed to have also given rise to the habit of returning home early.

Before long, curfew arrived, and the drunken patrons supported each other or staggered out of the Red Moon Tavern alone. In the end, only Windlow and the owner were left, who was still silently wiping the wine glasses behind the counter, which seemed to never end.

The room on the second floor was as simple as he had expected: a hard bed, a shabby wardrobe, a rickety table, and a window facing the canal in Ubberek. The room cost 15 copper coins and was worth the price.

The night wind drifted in, mixed with the fishy smell of the river and various smells of the city at night.

Wendlow did not go to sleep directly. He lay on the boat for three days, doing nothing and resting.

Now I was lying on the hard bed with no sleepiness at all, so I simply got up, sat by the window and looked out.

The moonlight was obscured by thin clouds, with only a few scattered stars shining on the dark water, and the evil moon in the sky was shining green.

The buildings on the opposite bank were dark, with a few lights occasionally flickering in the distance. Except for the soldiers on night patrol, the entire city was shrouded in moonlight.

There was nothing to see, and none of the nighttime activities of a big city, so Windlow could only return to his uncomfortable bed and try to fall asleep.

Just as he stood up, a very fast noise, which was definitely not a natural sound at night, came into his ears.

It was the sound of wheels rolling over the cobblestone road, very chaotic, as if it would fall apart at any moment.

He immediately returned to the window and looked down in the faint starlight.

A black carriage with no markings and tightly drawn curtains stopped silently like a ghost on the road between the Red Moon Tavern and the river, and someone slowly descended from the carriage...