NordenCoastal winds whip chilly water across the docks of Norden. Thunder bellows from on high, Stromfel's rage sounding like a war drum breaking across the lands. Heavy rain fall blankets all of the town, invading even the sturdiest of roofs and tightest of alleys. Lanterns swing back and forth from hooks and posts, fires dead and constant tossing and turning causing audible creaking out in the streets. Wooden walls groan under aqueous assault, pitter patter of constant rainfall interrupted every so often by the snap of timber as construction projects, lamp posts, and trees further out of town are blown over by the relentless winds. Few tempt fate and Stromfel's scrutiny in this weather, only vagrants and a handful of Nordlanders with more sack than sense remain outdoors. Well, perhaps not just locals brave the storm, for travelers approach Norden along her sodden roads. Their destination a vaguely scratched in 'X' on sheets of paper that are rapidly becoming soaked into uselessness like everything else. Said 'X' translates to a humble stone building erected off in its own cloister on a gentle slope overlooking the docks. Sturdy double doors made from oak curve beneath a bronze hammer set against a wooden plaque of the blazing twin tailed comet. Humble windows of tastefully stained glass face out in pairs on each side of the building. Normally glowing from the sunlight that ekes out through the dreary clouds in the North, their beauty is hidden behind shutters sealed fast against the tempest outside. Red shingled roof stands surprisingly intact despite howling winds, not a single shard out of place or littering the small graveyard surrounding chapel itself. Feet bare and booted slosh through muddy streets. Cloaks cling with soaked weight to cold bodies, and heads bow against the push of the elements. Salvation is near for the travelers, only a few minutes left of marching through Norden before they reach the humble abode of Brother Gunther, War Priest of Sigmar. With a heave doors are pulled open, raking through the mud and allowing frigid air to pour into the building. Several candles flicker, several more blow out, and a man knelt beside a bedraggled and filthy woman looks up to stare at newest guest. "And you are?"