The Cave of Shadows

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Four men sat in the central area of a vast yurt in the village of Interlaken in what had once been Switzerland. From various sites in the area one could admire the mighty peaks of the Eiger, Monck and Jungfrau, now utterly devoid of snow and ice. Of course, no-one referred to them by those names anymore. The old names given by the Degenerates had been swept away and replaced by honorifics of the virile warlords who had carved out new realms from the festering corpse of the despised Old Ways.

The four men did not wish to waste time admiring mere slabs of rock and moraine: they had grander things to consider. They were in an ebullient mood – there was the feeling abroad that new conquests were in the offing; new peoples to conquer and enslave.

The four men were not from the highest ranks of the Protectorate: they were merely the rulers of medium-sized satraps. No, they had been chosen for their organising abilities and thus it was to them that the Great Khan had given the honour of carrying to completion this particular one of the many plans his fertile mind had produced. They knew that he would be bountiful if success should crown their endeavours. They, or their children, or their children’s children would be given many gifts, including the selection of the choicest women from the ranks of the Degenerates.

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