The square had once belonged to everyone.

Today…

a barricade divided it in two.

Two crowds.

Two banners.

Two leaders.

And each pointed at the other.

First Leader:
“Look at them!”

“They abandon our traditions.”

“They tear down the old boundaries…”

“…and call it progress.”

A voice rose from the crowd.

“Tzeentch!”

Then hundreds.

“Tzeentch!”

Across the barricade, the second leader answered.

Second Leader:
“Listen to them!”

“They fear every new thought.”

“Every new voice.”

“They would rather let this city rot…”

“…than allow it to change.”

Someone shouted:

“Nurgle!”

Soon hundreds answered.

“Nurgle!”

Stacy:
“They both see Chaos in the other.”

Caelwyn:
“Yes.”

Stacy:
“But they can’t both be right.”

Caelwyn watched the crowds.

Caelwyn:
“Why not?”

A bottle flew across the barricade.

Then a stone.

A man fell bleeding.

First Leader:
“You see?!”

“This is what they are!”

Someone on the other side was struck.

Second Leader:
“You see?!”

“We warned you!”

Stacy stared.

Stacy:
“They’re proving each other right.”

Caelwyn:
“Yes.”

Stacy:
“The more one attacks…”

“…the more frightened the other becomes.”

Caelwyn:
“Yes.”

Stacy:
“So they fight harder.”

Caelwyn:
“And give their opponents another reason…”

“…to do the same.”

The square erupted.

Nobody spoke about tradition anymore.

Nobody spoke about progress.

Only…

them.

Traitors.

Heretics.

Monsters.

Enemies.

And behind the smoke…

something moved.

Where blood fell, a vast horned shadow seemed to breathe.

Where accusation met counter-accusation, something impossible twisted through the haze.

Where the crowds became intoxicated by their own righteousness, something beautiful seemed to smile.

And among the wounded…

something ancient waited patiently.

Stacy:
“Which side are the Ruinous Powers on?”

Caelwyn looked at her.

Caelwyn:
“Look carefully.”

She did.

Blood flowed from both sides.

Plans met counterplans.

Hatred answered hatred.

The wounded begged for relief.

And both crowds knew…

with absolute certainty…

that they were the righteous ones.

Stacy:
“Both.”

Caelwyn said nothing.

Stacy:
“Khorne doesn’t care whose sword spills the blood.”

Caelwyn:
“No.”

Stacy:
“Tzeentch doesn’t care which side makes the better plan.”

Caelwyn:
“No.”

Stacy:
“Slaanesh doesn’t care which crowd becomes drunk on its own righteousness.”

Caelwyn:
“No.”

Stacy looked towards the wounded.

Stacy:
“And Nurgle?”

Caelwyn watched them suffer.

Caelwyn:
“Nurgle has patience.”

Silence.

Stacy:
“Then both sides serve Chaos.”

Caelwyn:
“No.”

She turned towards him.

Caelwyn:
“Don’t make their mistake.”

“Perhaps neither does.”

“Perhaps one does.”

“Perhaps both do.”

He looked at the people behind both banners.

People protecting children.

People tending the wounded.

People helping friends.

People screaming hatred.

Humanity remained on both sides.

So did fear.

So did courage.

Stacy:
“Then who’s right?”

Caelwyn:
“Perhaps one of them.”

“Perhaps neither.”

“But believing that you’re right…”

“…doesn’t make you immune…”

“…to becoming the thing you thought you were fighting.”

🔥 Month 8 — The Inner Fire
Week 3 — The Righteous Fire
Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay 4th Edition

One fire can ignite thousands.

But another fire can rise against it.

Both can believe they are protecting something precious.

Both can recognise darkness in the other.

And every act of the enemy can become proof that we were right all along.

The Ruinous Powers do not always need to choose a side.

Sometimes…

the conflict itself is enough.

If you remember what this felt like—

you already know what you’re missing.

Step back into it.

Or keep missing it.

👉 https://startplaying.games/gm/dunchan

Explore the research, philosophy and living-world design behind The Inner Fire and Mythveil Chronicles.

Stories that remember. Worlds that change.

👉 https://www.patreon.com/c/mythveilchronicles_bydunchanhuntergames