Jasper Thornpockets has a dream. As he moves through the bustling life of his city, he sees a world where the nobles and the wealthy merchants treat the desperate man not as a fallen comrade to be helped back to their feet, but as a stepping stone to keep their own feet out of the mud. He sees how the vulgar wealth of the posied noble mocks the calloused hands of the working man.
He dreams of an Empire where the labourer, the orphan, the sick, all the poorest sons and daughters of Sigmar, can look to their betters for inspiration and brotherhood. He preaches to the commoner, pleads with the rich and powerful on their behalf. He is scorned by many, ignored by most, but every small concession from a landlord, every toothless smile of gratitude from a limbless beggar is fuel for his spirit. For he has a dream; of a better day; a finer day; of prosperity for all.
He has recently been awoken from this dream, after one too many fireside speeches in a crowded riverside tavern brought him to the attentions of a local merchant. The respected gentleman was compelled to act, perhaps fearing that disquiet amongst his dockhands might have a negative impact on his margins, or perhaps just bored with another bloody sermon from that uppity shortarse. Whatever his motivation, he discreetly arranged a surprise night-time conversation between Jasper and some other, less well respected, gentlemen. This in turn resulted in Jasper suddenly choosing to leave his home town of Boegenhafen, after somehow binding himself up inside a sealed suitcase, strapped to the roof of a coach bound for Kislev.
