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Visitor :  Dice Roller| Game Info| The Cast |
| Paths of the Damned - Prologue: Through the Drakwald. Posted by Game Master. | Group: 0 |
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| Author | Message | [bottom] |
 All of you grew up listening to stories of the Great War Against Chaos. The tale of Magnus the Pious and his victory over the armies of Chaos is well known. While there have been wars and threats in the 200 years since, there has been nothing on that scale. Until now. This year the Chaos Lord Archaon invaded the Empire with five mighty armies. They swept down from the Chaos Wastes, ranks filled with mutant warriors, nightmarish monsters, and power-mad sorcerers. Flagellants and other prophets of doom declared these the End Times. And as these armies pillaged and burned their way through the northern provinces of the Empire, it was easy to believe. You’ve heard endless stories over the past few months. They say that Sigmar once again walked the earth. They say an army of wolves attacked the Kislevian city of Erengrad. They say the dead rose from their graves to defend the Empire. They say a mighty victory was won at Middenheim. They say a plague has choked the streets of Talabheim with bloated corpses. You can only believe what is in front of your eyes. You are in the town of Untergard in the Drakwald Forest. A nine-day battle took place here, as Beastmen tried to force their way across the town’s great bridge. They were rebuffed but the price was high. The town is in ruins and its remaining citizens struggle to survive. The Imperial army has long since moved on from Untergard, leaving behind only its dead. You’ve heard tell of more battles up north but the war here seems over. Or so you hope. You have been in Untergard for several days, as rainstorms of utmost savagery lashed the Drakwald. You find two things when you awaken: the rainstorm has broken and there is a commotion in the nearby Ackerplatz... There are - or were - three inns in the town of Unterwald: The Sign of the White Wolf, the The Graf's Lament and The Bawdy Goblin. Unfortunately the White Wolf was in the destroyed Eastern half of the town and now exists only as rubble and the charred skeleton of house timbers. Whatever ale or wine it contained was seized by the foul creatures of Chaos during the battle and the innkeeper and his family also travelled down their gullets. The Graf's Lament is structurally intact but the owner, Ludwig Bremmer, one of the richest men in town had fled the town with his wife and daughters the morning after the attack began, risking the road south. No one knows whether he made it to safety or not or if the Bremmers lie mouldering in a ditch but it is known he absconded with much of his finest stock and what was left has long since run out. Captain Schiller requisitioned the building as a makeshift hospital during the battle and the once stately inn still reeks of blood and worse fluids. That leaves the The Bawdy Goblin on the Ackerplatz, owned by Stefan Hauser, a huge man rumoured to be a retired Carrobourg Greatsword. Hauser died on the sixth day of battle (having killed many of the foes facing him) and his son Karl has kept the inn running. An awkward, lanky young man no one would ever mistake Karl for a warrior but having some place that feels normal has kept morale up, even if the ale has grown more watered by the day and the famed spiced sausages of Middenland grown stuffed with sawdust. Cramped as it is The Bawdy Goblin has also become a refuge for those unlucky to have been caught in Untergard when the storm hit. For one reason or another five such strangers have been here for more than two weeks. From inside the inn you can hear raised voices coming in through the windows. They sound like they are coming from the Ackerplatz, the town square of Untegard... This message was last edited by the GM at 02:07, Mon 22 Mar 2021. | |||||
He slung his arquebus over his shoulder, grabbed his massive polearm and headed outside to see what the trouble was. | |||||
She sealed it with a stamp of melted wax and considered the means to have it delivered when the commotion started outside and the Kislevite stood to investigate. "Camp followers who missed the Army's departure, I would think!" she said brightly as she heard the ruckus. After a moment, she too rose to see what was going on - Karl Hauser had made it clear her assistance organizing his storeroom, pantry, linens, and window dressings was not necessary or welcome - she had to find something to help these ignorant provincials with around here before Master Walbrecht summoned her home. | |||||
He'd spent the last days of of the fighting running messages from one commander to the other to keep the troops coordinated his sling had saved not only himself but a few soldiers to and though scarred was proud of what he had done. After seeing the first beastman breach the defences Edgar's fear of them wasn't as bad as most, perhaps the myth that halflings were less susceptible to the forces of chaos was true, perhaps he was so busy trying to stay alive their monstrous looks didn't fully register with him. Now he walked over to see what all the fuss was about | |||||
Home was now Untergard, or more specifically 'The Bawdy Goblin' was home now. He'd never go back in to the forest, not after what he saw that night and he doubted he would be with his bricks again. He didn't really know what he was going to do next - he traded for coin in the town but was as likely to swap charcoal bricks for bread or cloth. His work helped fuel the furnaces of the blacksmith, they baked the bread of the baker and heated the homes of the townsfolk but now not a lot of that mattered. It wasn't as though he had many friends in town anyway, but he felt keenly the loss of those he had known and even felt saddened that he didn't grieve more for their lives. They deserved someone to feel sorrow. Now he lived in the inn like a common drunkard, except he didn't really drink that much anyway. Since the attack his days were spent helping in whatever way he could - tending the sick and injured, helping with securing the bridge and other masonry, scavenging for firewood (there was wood that was worth burning and wood that should not) and generally helping where he could. He was no warrior, he had few special skills of note but he could do what he was told and he seemingly could survive. Nights were spent in the inn with other survivors. It was not a happy place but a certain silent solidarity was forming between those strangers who had lived, as a counterbalance to what happened to those who had not. 'the man from the North, the Wizard and the Dwarf and the Halfling too...' It sounded like the start of a bad joke but they all had one thing in common - they had lived and others had not... He sat in the inn lost in his thoughts and remembered how he came to be here... ...On the night of the attack Lukas had fled as fast as he could. It was inhuman how he managed to maintain a pace to get to the town alive. By a strange twist of luck he had arrived just as the attack was starting, scaling the barriers almost with the foul creatures from whatever hellish part of the forest they came from. Imperial Pike and Chaotic Horns both missed their chance to impale him as he had swung his axe left and right before fortune smiled on him again and he found himself behind the Empire's lines caught in the no-man's land of shepherding the survivors across the bridge whilst feeling guilt that he was not on the frontline with his little axe with the soldiers. The ensuing days gave him many a chance to prove his worth and more by luck than skill he had survived with more than one beastman skull feeling the hilt of his axe buried into him... The shouting from the square snapped him out of his reverie. The Northman with his terrifying weapon stood first, followed by the strange wizard who was lost in her letters. Her cheery disposition in some ways was more frightening in these times than the monsters from the forest. The Halfling Edgar stood too and headed towards the commotion. Lukas looked at his dirty hands and shook his head. Tempers had frayed more than once amongst the survivors and he felt sorry for Captain Schiller who tried to keep the peace amongst the tumult. The watchman had faced far more in the last few weeks than any sane man should. The easiest thing in the world to do would be to ignore the shouts and rest in his cups but it didn't seem right - he had to help and since his new accomplices were leaving the inn he sighed and stood to join them. 'What now?' he thought, as he headed onto the square. He gripped the handle of his hatchet tightly. Just in case of course... | |||||
"Is it worth standing up?" he asked without addressing anyone in particular. | |||||
"Maybe it's good news?" he said hopefully, joining the others outside. As Edgar, Fyodor, Jocelin and Lukas approach the Ackerplatz, you notice that most of the 75 survivors of Untergard have already gathered in the decrepit town square, and are muttering restlessly to one another. Many still nurse battle wounds; whilst others are clearly too old or young to have taken place in the fighting. All are ragged and pale, and some are clearly pinched by hunger. From the snatches of conversation you can make out something is clearly happening, though to learn more you'll have to ask. Once a bustling square for a prosperous small town the battle had left the Ackerplatz covered in ash and slick with blood. If the recent storm has brought any good at all it has at least washed away much of that and the cobbles glisten with puddles reflecting the autumn sunlight. A few children are taking advantage of their distracted parents to splish about. OOC: Gossip tests with a Very Easy (+30%) modifier to find out what is going on. | |||||
21:39, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 69 using 1d100. gossip roll target 74. This message was last edited by the player at 07:47, Tue 23 Mar 2021. | |||||
Seeing the whole town gathered at the town square, he grimaced again and decided he was not going to join them. As the only dwarf in town he was not particularly liked and he had no intention to mingle with the locals more than it was necessary. So he stood in the doorway of the inn and watched the commotion without interest. | |||||
(OOC: 22:12, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 42 using 1d100. Gossip Test (54). ) | |||||
“Oh my,” she said aloud, “what an opportunity to see real community togetherness! How delightful!” She gathered up her skirts so as not to dirty them outside and walked through the door to make small talk with the smallfolk. ~~ Surely someone will be willing to talk with me now! ~~ OOC: 18:07, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 58 using 1d100. Gossip roll, success threshold 64. | |||||
But the warrior made his way to the front of the crowd to investigate what the commotion was about. OOC: 17:03, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 50 using 1d100. Gossip (62). Dont have gossip so just rolled against Fel 62. This message was last edited by the player at 00:13, Tue 23 Mar 2021. | |||||
Fyodor finds himself talking to Wolfgang, a laky, dark haired trapper who has managed to bring in a little game over the past few days. The local, himself a taciturn sort, nods in greeting an uncharacteristically excited expression on his homely face. "Seems the Captain is going to be making an announcement 'ere in the Platz. Has a letter from the Count 'imself he'll be reading to us. Good man the Captain, I've heard he once led a company of mercenaries up there in Troll Country." Nearby two excited flaxen haired children who must be brother and sister from their likeness have surrounded Edgar and are telling him much the same: "Papa told us the Count sent a letter but its secret!" the boys says. His sister sticks her tongue out him. "Mama told me an even better secret, that Father Dietrich has a holy relic." She looks delighted with herself and holds a finger up to her lips. "But shh, don't tell anyone - it's so secret!" The shopkeeper Lukas thought was called either Hans or Jan looked worn and middle aged, but the charcoal burner recalled him as amiable and rotund before the attack. "Captain Schiller has a letter from Count Boris of Middenheim," Hans (Jan?) explains. He looks at Lukas thoughtfully. "You're from out of town Kohl, what do you make of that Granny Moescher? She refused to come into town and still refuses to do and the beastmen never laid a claw on her. Ulric knows we owe her a lot, and she's still looking after a half dozen orphans who lost everyone in the battle but she's stubborn as a dwarf." Jocelin finally found someone willing to swap more than two words with her: Father Dietrich, the Sigmarite priest. "There is a lot of talk about a letter from Middenheim Frau Herzog," he states. Dietrich is a thin, bony man but his voice his surprisingly strong. "Personally though I'm more interested in a story I've heard that beastmen took some of the missing and are keeping them alive in the forest for their own dark purposes." Meanwhile back at the entrance to the inn Harkrin is left to his own thoughts, and the decorative potential a well applied chisel could do to the doorframe. | |||||
Satisfied in her faith in just and effective Imperial rule, a serene countenance settled on Jocelin's face. "And how have you been, Pfarrer? Is there anything I can help you with? I've offer my assistance but I think the Untergardics are so proud they want to show someone from Altdorf they can get along. It's admirable, really. I just wish I could help..." She sighed. "At least until I'm recalled to the University to continue my formal studies, that is. Can't imagine it would be much longer." | |||||
He looked up from Wolfgang and scanned the masses for the captain. "Where Captain?" | |||||
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"Have you seen Captain Schiller? Do you think he will read the letter to us?" Lukas doubted that any of them had a right to even ask to know the details of private correspondence between the Count and the town's figurehead. He didn't say it, but he didn't even know if Captain Schiller could read. It wasn't the type of place where one knew their letters at the best of times. Jumping ahead in his thoughts he remembered what the wizard was doing before the commotion, 'she'll be able to read it if no-one else can...' Still, though Lukas was not prone to gossip he was intrigued at what the contents may reveal. "I wonder what the letter was about 'ans," he said, mumbling a pronunciation of the man's (possible) name, "Maybe Count Boris is sending relief to rebuild the town. Maybe supplies are coming to help get everyone back on their feet. Maybe he'll send soldiers to protect and gold too..." As he spoke he realised how stupid he sounded. Of course there would be hope for any news from Middenheim but there was a war on, a war that none of them would have ever imagined a short time ago. There would be nothing spare for Untergard, and in any case, the benevolence of the Counts was not exactly renown in the Empire. The Count probably wanted something, 'All able bodied men and women must march to Middenheim to defend the City,' or something similar. Lukas sighed. He hoped the letter would be good news but giving voice to the hope made him realise it probably wouldn't be... | |||||
He gestures vaguely at Jocelin's attire. The young wizardess had gained the sense that even Father Dietrich, who liked her and talked to her didn't entirely approve of dabbling with magic, legal or otherwise. Edgar was rewarded with a fit of giggles from the twins. "Can we see you ride your pony?" the boy asked. "Yeah, can we?" his sister chimes in. Jan (or Hans) seems to have been chastened by Lukas's invocation of Granny Moescher. Biting back whatever else he might have said about the old woman he concentrated on the second part of Lukas's question. "I think the Captain plans to say just that. I saw Middenheim once. My brother-in-law is a priest of Ulric. No finer city in the Empire than the the bastion of the White Wolf and no army will have taken it. It'll be good news, I feel it in my bones." Wolgang starts to gives a shrug when Fyodor asks about the Captain but then pauses and points a dirty finger to one of the entrances to the Ackerplatz. "There!" Sure enough it is Captain Schiller and two of his men striding purposefully into the square, all carrying hessian sacks. | |||||
The crowd cheers and once again Schiller must motion for silence. “Count Todbringer sends his thanks to all of Untergard for the part we played in hampering the invaders. He said, and I quote, ‘the battle for the Untergard Bridge will go down as one of the most glorious battles in Middenland’s history.’ Be proud, people of Untergard, for our sacrifices have not been in vain!” When the cheers die down, Schiller continues. “To show his gratitude for our valour, the Count has sent us a token of his appreciation.” The captain reaches into a bag and pulls out a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine. “We were honoured to receive sixty loaves of bread and a dozen bottles of wine, straight from Middenheim.” The crowd goes wild at the sight of the Count’s largesse, hungry eyes fixed on the fresh bread in the Captain’s hands. They begin to chant, “Long live the Count! Long live the Count!” Schiller holds bread and wine high in the air as the hardened survivors of Untergard shout themselves hoarse. Suddenly, there is a loud crack and the bottle shatters, showering Schiller and the bread with glass and wine. Pandemonium erupts as the crowd scatters in panic. People start looking for cover, spooked by the unmistakable sound of a firearm discharging. OOC: Perception tests all! Fyodor take a +10% bonus on this test due to your knowledge of firearms. | |||||
OOC: 07:35, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 51 using 1d100. Perception - DC 41. This message was last edited by the player at 13:07, Wed 24 Mar 2021. | |||||
15:51, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 16 using 1d100. (Perception - Int 30). | |||||
He had caught the bottle exploding and the general direction of where the shot had been fired from. "Get DOWN!" he called out loud in his northern accent. OOC: 07:53, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 32 using 1d100. Perception - 37. | |||||
"Down Hans!" he cried, instinctively trying to pull himself and the other man to the ground. (At least the urgency clarified a decision on the name of shopkeeper for Lukas...) On the ground he instinctively reached for the handle of his hatchet. It would probably be useless against the kind of weapon that was discharged but he kept his body low and his eyes scanning all-around. (OOC: 15:38, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 58 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44. Perception Test Int 44.) | |||||
19:36, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 40 using 1d100 ((40)). As the shot rang out Edgar did the only thing he could think of, he grabbed the two children he'd been talking to, one in each hand and pulled them down against one of the buildings covering them with his own body to protect them at the same time he pulled his belt from around his waist and fished a stone out of a pouch readying his sling in case he saw something or some one to shoot This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Wed 24 Mar 2021. | |||||
Not that he had time to look for long as something else caught his eye - and everyone else's eye. Everywhere civilians were panicking, trying to rush from the square. The twins Edgar had pushed to safety wailed for their parents. Hans (and it probably was Hans) looked white with fear as he lay belly down on the cobbles. Father Dietrich was calling out: "Women and children get back to safety!" The two watchmen in the square - the others must be at their posts at the gates on the northern side of the town - have drawn their swords but are hemmed in by the fleeing crowd and and seem momentarily caught. Captain Schiller was moving to help a pregnant woman who was in immediate danger of being trampled. The watch leader appears unharmed by the shot but for yet another stain on his beleaguered uniform. "The bridge!" he roared, "secure the bridge!" All of you find yourself looking to the bridge over the River Taub and then you catch a glimpse of horrid figures running across it's span towards the Ackerplatz. You see four men - or what used to be men. The attackers are vile mutants, bearing horrifying deformities. The first attacker looks almost like a Beastman, covered in thick fur and with horns sprouting from his forehead, yet his face is still all too human. The mutant next to him has grotesque, slimy tentacles in place of arms. Behind them approach two more Chaos-spawn, one with a pig-like snout instead of a nose, and another with a glaring red eye in the middle of his forehead. They are all armed with axes and clubs, and running at full speed towards the panicked townsfolk. OOC: Roll for Initiative all (Agility+1d10) but don't post any actions just yet.  This message was last edited by the GM at 18:39, Thu 25 Mar 2021. | |||||
22:42, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 44 using 1d10+40. Initiative | |||||
"Ulric's beard!" he cried, and then, with a fury of the wolf Lukas began to run towards the monstrosities on the bridge.... At one time Lukas would have run away and hidden, at one time he would have looked after himself and got out of the way. But now, they had to face this evil head on for if Untergard fell where else could he possibly go? "If you're not armed, secure yourself indoors NOW!" he shouted into the air, as if he were Captain Schiller himself, "...and if you are armed get into these bastards before they cross the bridge!" He held aloft his axe high above his head and charged across the bridge aiming to meet the nearest mutant head on. (OOC: Don't know if Lukas can get close enough with his charge, but if he can here is a failed roll to attack! 20:48, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 41 using 1d100. WS 33.) | |||||
As he did so he started swinging his sling over his head as he came closer to the others he let the stone fly towards one of the mutants (1) 13:23, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 61 using 1d100. Ballistic attack sling target 41. | |||||
Lukas races forward and sets foot on the bridge proper but the enemy are still too far too reach him. The mutants themselves lope along reaching the middle span of the bridge, close enough for the charcoal burner to see the wild look in their eyes and the flecks of foam coming from their snarling mouths. OOC: Updated Map:  Jocelin, Harkrim and Fyodor you guys are up! :) This message was last edited by the GM at 13:50, Fri 26 Mar 2021. | |||||
OOC: Harkrin would run towards the enemies, though he's pretty confident he won't be able to engage any of the mutants anytime soon... | |||||
OOC: 07:14, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 89 using 1d100. BS 30. | |||||
As she moved, she began her incantations to prepare her mind to touch the warp and channel the Winds; the air around her shimmered and her robes seemed to move with her from one position to the next without traveling through the intervening space. OOC: Half-action: move 4 squares towards Fyodor. Half-action: move 4 squares towards Fyodor.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:16, Fri 26 Mar 2021. | |||||
OOC: You can move four squares in one half action. Technically Channelling and casting a spell cost a half action each so if you want to Channel, cast a spell and move you'll have to use a Fortune Point (see pg. 135 of the rulebook.) You don't need to declare which spell you use until after you've rolled Channeling. | |||||
OOC: Round Two!  Initiative as before - Edgar and Lukas first, then the Mutants, then Fyodor, Jocelin and Harkrin. | |||||
21:49, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 78 using 1d100. ballistic attack sling target 41. | |||||
(OOC: For narrative purposes I think it would be strange for Lukas to stop his charge so he will carry on. Worryingly, it looks like all four could be on him in the next round which could lead to a short adventuring career for Lukas. I'll use the failed WS roll earlier for when he meets mutant 4. EDIT: 09:56, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 7 using 1d6+3. Damage (+3SB).) This message was last edited by the player at 09:57, Sat 27 Mar 2021. | |||||
Lukas's heroic charge brings him into direct contact with three eyed mutant and his hatchet strikes the hideous creature in the side of the head - not a fatal blow but hard enough it gives an all too human wail of pain and the left side of his face is suddenly masked in red blood. The charcoal burner has only moments to register his success as the snouted mutant comes barrelling towards him snorting like a swine, a stout cudgel in hand. The snouted mutant misses with that attack but Lukas's momentary distraction allows the injured mutant time to launch a savage attack of it's own with a battered sword, no doubt captured from a fallen Imperial. This assault lands a blow on Lukas's left arm though the angle of the blade is off, only nicking the limb rather than biting deep. Ulric or Sigmar must be looking out for Lukas as the ferocious attack of two mutants leaves Lukas with only a light wound to his off arm! Of course the fight is not done yet... The other two mutants ignore the fight and continue loping across the bridge, hungry for other prey. OOC: 11:24, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 6 using 1d6+3. Damage. 11:23, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 24 -- 2 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. All Out Attack against Lukas. 11:21, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 67 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. Charge Attack against Lukas. Map update:  Summary of Round Two so far: Edgar's sling shot misses. Lukas Charges and successfully wounds Mutant #4. Mutant #3 Charges Lukas and misses. Mutant #4 makes an All-Out-Attack against Lukas and wounds him. Mutant #1 and Mutant #2 make two Moves each. Wounded Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Lukas: 2 Wounds Harkrim, Fyodor and Jocelin can act! This message was last edited by the GM at 12:01, Sat 27 Mar 2021. | |||||
The air around the Apprentice began to shimmer and bend as she incanted and opened her mind to the Winds. From her belt she drew a small dart and cupped it in an upraised palm. Speaking a final incomprehensible word her hand lowered, but the dart stayed aloft! Hovering for a moment, it sped forward before vanishing into a prism of unreality... ... reappearing close by to the horrid mutant traveling even faster and thrusting itself into the creature's chest with a sickening thlurk. OOC: Half-action: Channel 15:14, Yesterday: Jocelin Herzog rolled 35 using 1d100. Channeling - Success target 43. [preserved from yesterday] Half-action: Cast Magic Dart 09:05, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 7 using 1d10+2. Cast Magic Dart - C#6. 09:08, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 6 using 1d10+3. Damage - Magic Dart. | |||||
In one fluid motion he draws the weapon, agilely spins it above his head and then takes up a position to receive the mutants charge. He stares at the oncoming foe charges over the bridge, his mental state switching to that of survival. The years and years of fighting have only improved his will to survive and he has no intention of dying to these two mutants. "We stay together, we survive." he says to the people near him. OOC: Pack away the arquebus and then draw the berdysh and prepare to receive any charge. Fyodor has Dodge Blow and will attempt that if he gets it in the next round. | |||||
OOC: If he can get there, Harkrin will take the post two squares down from Fyodor and prepare for the charge. He has Dodge Blow and will attempt to avoid any damage before striking back. | |||||
From behind you you hear a thin cheer from one of the townsfolk at your defence of the bridge. While none come rushing to your aid the panic is starting to fade and perhaps in a moment or two help will be on the way. Perhaps. OOC: I've slightly moved Jocelin's position to make more sense. Map update:  Summary of Round Three so far: Wounded Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Mutant #2: 3 Wounds. Lukas: 2 Wounds Edgar and Lukas can act! | |||||
21:11, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 24 using 1d100. ballistic attack sling target 41 21:13, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 13 using 1d10+3. damage Ulric's fury 21:16, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 57 using 1d100. ballistic attack sling target 41 No extra damage :( This message was last edited by the player at 20:17, Sun 28 Mar 2021. | |||||
(OOC: Taking up a Defensive Stance (half action), Standard Attack (half action) - feels sensible when fighting two opponents, and he gets the parry option if a blow gets through? 21:21, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 60 using 1d100. WS 33) | |||||
Despite the pain (or maybe drawing on it) the altered figure runs across the western span of the bridge and flails at Fyodor - only to miss him with the axe gripped in it's right tentacle. Nearby the horned mutant charges at Harkrim, an evil looking club in it's hand. The attack is a canny one and might have hit if it wasn't for Harkrim's experience in gaol brawls. The dwarf is hardly fast yet he steps to the side on instinct, allowing the mutant to miss him and near overbalance. The last two mutants cornering Lukas have better luck that their brothers. The three eyed mutant draws a jagged line across the charcoal burner's chest while the snoted mutant grunts in glee as his cudgel slams into Lukas's arm. Lukas hears and feels something break as his entire left arm becomes a twitching mass of pain... OOC: 21:43, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Lukas Kohl, rolled 65 using 1d100. Critical Hit. 21:38, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 11 using 1d10+3. Damage. 21:38, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 10 using 1d10+3. Damage. 21:38, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 15 -- 1 degree of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 31. Attack Lukas. 21:37, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 29 -- a simple success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 31. Attack Lukas. 21:37, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Harkrin 'Klinka', rolled 7 -- 1 degree of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 24. Dodge Blow. 21:36, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 2, rolled 50 -- a simple success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. Charge Attack against Harkrim. 21:35, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 1, rolled 87 -- 3 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. Charge Attack against Fyodor. Map update:  Summary of Round Three so far: Edgar severely wounded Mutant# 1 with his sling. Mutant #1 Charged Fyodor but missed. Mutant #2 Charged Harkrim and hit but Harkrim successfully dodged. Mutant #4 severely wounded Lukas with his sword. Mutant #3 critically wounded Lukas with his cudgel. Wounded Mutant #1: 10 Wounds. Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Mutant #2: 3 Wounds. Lukas: Critically Wounded Lukas takes a Critical Wound to his left arm: Arm is now a dangling mass of bloody meat. Anything held in this hand is dropped (excepting a shield). Blood loss is such that character has a 20% chance of dying each round until medical attention is received. Test at the start of victim’s turn each round. Use the Sudden Death rules for any further Critical Hits on this opponent. If he survives this combat, he must make a successful Toughness Test or lose the arm from the elbow down permanently. Jocelin, Harkrim and Fyodor can act. This message was last edited by the GM at 21:42, Sun 28 Mar 2021. | |||||
Her incantations continued, but she saw the mutant's club crush his arm and she shouted, "LUKAS!" involuntarily -- a gust of wind that touched only her blew her hair and her skirts backwards -- but she grimaced and continued channeling the Aethyr: again holding her palm up, empty this time, but when the prism gates appeared between her and the mutant, an iridescent dart manifested and struck another blow. Jocelin allowed her mind to fully inhabit reality, and her robes suddenly hung normally from her body. "LUKAS, RUN!!" she shouted. OOC: Half Action: Channel 17:31, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 66 using 1d100. Channel Skill Check - Target 43. Half Action: Cast Magic Dart Target Mutant 4 17:34, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 9 using 1d10. Magic Dart - CN 6. 17:34, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 7 using 1d10+3. Magic Dart Damage. | |||||
Despite the blood and screams of the man, Fyodor calmly stood his ground and watched the tentacled beast lunge against him and missing. With a loud war cry "YPA!"and just at the right moment he swung the mighty berdysh in a wide arc towards the tentacled mutant but the blade goes wide above its head. OOC: Parrying stance and one attack. Mutant has -10% to parry a Fast weapon. 20:51, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 71 using 1d100. WS - 36 - reroll, didnt see it was a D20 last. This message was last edited by the player at 03:52, Mon 29 Mar 2021. | |||||
08:22, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 30 using 1d100. WS 50 attack. 08:24, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 4 using 1d10+3. dmg (SB:3). | |||||
Harkrim meanwhile finds his axe connecting with the furred horned mutant, drawing a red scar through it's dirty shirt. It's an unlucky blow for all it connects and conjures a wail of pain - had the the mutant been an inch closer the dwarfs axe would have bit deep. Lukas is in a world of pain over at his corner of the bridge but remarkably remains conscious. Perhaps he wishes he wasn't as he is still faced with the snouted mutant and his three eyed kin. And from somewhere you can hear raised voices and moving feet back in the Platz. Help is coming. But not just yet. OOC: Round Four Map update: Summary of Round Four so far: Lukas passes his sudden death roll and stays conscious. Wounded Mutant #1: Critically Wounded. Mutant #2: 4 Wounds. Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Lukas: Critically Wounded Edgar and Lukas are up. | |||||
Seeing lukas in trouble he let fly towards one of the creatures near him (3) 12:56, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 47 using 1d100. Ballistic attack sling target 41 | |||||
(OOC: Lukas will disengage and move away back to the town square. It seems exceptionally unlikely that he will make many more crit rolls before he can get help and there are still two mutants on him so it looks like a Fate Point already lol) | |||||
Nearby the mutant with horns and fur lands a glancing blow on Harkrim head with his club. The rugged dwarf is barely phased by the hit, his skull more than thick enough to fend off Drakwald wood. Elsewhere Lukas finds himself running. Or trying to. He manages to move back a few paces, his back pressed to the crumbling edge of the bridge but the mutants are still coming, their eyes burning with unholy delight. The first attack from the snouted mutant Lukas managed to evade but the mutant with three eyes was there swinging his cudgel. Even as Lukas braced himself against the coming blow he felt something give way behind him. It was the bridge. Damaged during the attack the loose stonework fails suddenly and Lukas finds himself tumbling through space with the cold waters of the River Taub coming up to meet him. Down, down into the river and darkness... As his horrified friends watch Lukas fall off the bridge and the mutants yell in triumph a new trio of voices shout up: "For Ulric and Untergard!" Captain Schiller and Father Dietrich must have gained control over the panicked crowd for now from the edge of the Acherplatz help is finally coming - a trio of watchmen, swords drawn, their blue cloaks in the wind are running to join the fight. OOC: 20:11, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 61 using 1d100. Critical Hit. 20:10, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 10 using 1d10+3. Damage. 20:09, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 40 -- a simple success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 41. Charge Attack against Lukas. 20:09, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 59 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 41. Charge Attack against Lukas. 20:09, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Harkrin 'Klinka', rolled 40 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 24. Dodge Blow. 20:08, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 2, rolled 5 using 1d10+3. Damage. 20:07, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 2, rolled 3 -- 2 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 31. Attack Harkrim. 20:07, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 1, rolled 58 -- 2 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 31. Attack Fyodor. Map Update:  Summary of Round Four so far: Lukas passes his sudden death roll and stays conscious. Mutant One failed to hit Fyodor. Mutant Two hit and lightly wounded Harkrim. Lukas disengaged from his fight. Mutant Three and Mutant Four Charge Lukas. Mutant Three misses but Mutant Four hits. Lukas is knocked off the weakened bridge by the blow and plunges into the River Taub below. Three Untergard watchmen have arrived and are moving to join the fight. Wounded Mutant #1: Critically Wounded. Mutant #2: 4 Wounds. Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Harkrim: 1 Wound Lukas: Dead(?) Harkrim, Jocelin and Fyodor can act. This message was last edited by the GM at 21:48, Mon 29 Mar 2021. | |||||
Intent on rescuing his fallen companion he throw caution to the wind and started to wade in up to his knees to see if the man's body was floating down stream passed him | |||||
OOC: 14:41, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 7 using 1d10+3. Damage. 14:39, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 34 using 1d100. WS - 36. Attack Defensive stance Fast Weapon - 10% parry This message was last edited by the player at 22:09, Mon 29 Mar 2021. | |||||
07:57, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 40 using 1d100. WS 50 attack. 07:57, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 7 using 1d10+3. dmg. | |||||
Opening her mind once again to the Aethyr she thrusted her hands down into an unseen vessel, and when she brought them up again the palms of her hands dripped with a silvery liquid sheen ... simultaneously coating the handle of the club. OOC: 10:01, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 60 using 1d100. Channel Skill Check - Target 43. 10:02, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 5 using 1d10. Cast 'Drop' - Casting Number 4. Target Mutant 3: Will Power test or drop its weapon. | |||||
The horned mutant staggers back a half step as Harkrin's axe blow cleaves the side of it's head removing on of the ram like horns and a left ear. The mutant doesn't fall but it is breathing heavily now as blood seeps through the multiple wounds visible in it's fur and rags. Over by the bridge the snouted mutant squeals in alarm as the purloined sword it carries slips from its hand and clatters onto the bridge. Edgar rushes to the side of the bridge but sees nothing but the fast flowing waters of the Taub, swollen by storms and running south away from Untergard. Either Lukas went straight to the bottom or he has already been dragged by the current out of sight. OOC: 9:41, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 80 -- 4 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 31. Map Update: Summary of Round Four: Lukas passes his sudden death roll and stays conscious. Mutant One failed to hit Fyodor. Mutant Two hit and lightly wounded Harkrim. Lukas disengaged from his fight. Mutant Three and Mutant Four Charge Lukas. Mutant Three misses but Mutant Four hits. Lukas is knocked off the weakened bridge by the blow and plunges into the River Taub below. Three Untergard watchmen have arrived and are moving to join the fight. Fyodor kills Mutant #1 Harkrim wounds Mutant #2 Jocelin forces Mutant #3 to drop his sword. Wounded Mutant #1: Dead. Mutant #2: 8 Wounds. Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Harkrim: 1 Wound Lukas: Dead(?) Next up: Round Five. Edgar has already made his move so it will be the (surviving) Mutants and Watchmen next. This message was last edited by the GM at 19:13, Tue 30 Mar 2021. | |||||
Nearby the enraged and now unihorned mutant attacks Harkrim in a fury and is rewarded with a hit on the dwarf's shoulder. Despite the madness in the mutant's eyes and the specks of spittle foaming from it's mouth it only lightly wounds the tough ex-convict. The third mutant clumisly retrieves it's sword and moves towards the battle but it is immediately clear the delay has cost it precious moments. And to your east you can hear human voices and shouts of encouragement - the Untergard Watch is almost here! OOC: 20:25, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Harkrin 'Klinka', rolled 62 -- 3 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 24. Dodge Blow. 20:24, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 2, rolled 5 using 1d10+3. Damage. 20:24, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 2, rolled 25 -- 2 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. All Out Attack against Harkrim. 20:20, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Fyodor Fyodoreski, rolled 70 -- 3 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 31. Dodge Blow. 20:19, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 7 using 1d10+3. Damage. 20:18, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 26 -- 1 degree of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 41. Charge Attack against Fyodor. Map Update:  Summary of Round Five so far: Mutant Four Charges Fyodor and lightly wounds him. Mutant Two attacks and lightly wounds Harkrim. Mutant Three retrieves his dropped sword and makes a Move. The Watchmen run towards the bridge. Wounded Mutant #1: Dead. Mutant #2: 8 Wounds. Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Fiodor: 3 Wounds. Harkrim: 2 Wounds. Lukas: Dead(?) Next up: Fyodor, Jocelin and Harkrim. | |||||
OOC: 13:11, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 88 using 1d100. WS - 36. | |||||
22:17, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 7 using 1d10+3. 22:17, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 16 using 1d100. WS 50 attack. One half action: Standard attack One half action: Parry stance. This message was last edited by the player at 08:40, Wed 31 Mar 2021. | |||||
OOC: Mutant 2 16:06, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 90 using 1d100. Channel - Target 43. 16:06, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 9 using 1d10. Magic Dart - CN 6. 16:07, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 4 using 1d10+3. Magic Dart Damage. This message was last edited by the player at 04:14, Wed 31 Mar 2021. | |||||
Two mutants still stand - but only just. OOC: Map Update:  Summary of Round Six so far: Mutant Two dies horribly. Wounded Mutant #1: Dead. Mutant #2: Dead. Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Fyodor: 3 Wounds. Harkrim: 2 Wounds. Lukas: Dead(?) Next up: Edgar. This message was last edited by the GM at 02:07, Wed 31 Mar 2021. | |||||
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Even as the horned mutant died yet another enemy seemed to appear out of nowhere, determined to attack Harkrin. The snouted mutant whirled a sword - almost certainly stolen from an Empire soldier - and it's furious charge ended with it sling into the dwarf's shoulder. It was not a fatal or even serious wound in and of itself but the ex-convict was starting to look bloodied from his collection of scars. The other surviving mutant, the three eyed one who was fighting Fyodor had less luck, missing it's furious strike against the Kislevite. At that moment with a yell of "For Untergard!" the trio of watchmen arrived to join the fray, their blue cloaks dirty and torn but still behind them. One, a blonde young woman charged the three eyed mutant though her blow didn't quite connect. The other, a grizzled bearded man and and slim youth charged the snouted mutant facing Harkrin and had better fortune, striking the enemy twice. The two living mutants were grossly outnumbered and bloodied, yet a glance at their mad, hate filled eyes showed they'd take some killing yet! OOC: 21:13, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman Three, rolled 4 using 1d10+3. Damage. 21:12, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman Three, rolled 37 -- 1 degree of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. Charge Attack against Mutant 3. 21:12, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman Two, rolled 10 using 1d10+3. Damage. 21:11, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman Two, rolled 17 -- 3 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. Charge Attack against Mutant 3. 21:11, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman One, rolled 97 -- 4 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. Charge Attack against Mutant 4. 21:10, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 58 -- a simple failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. All Out Attack against Fyodor. 21:10, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Harkrin 'Klinka', rolled 52 -- 2 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 24. Dodge Blow. 21:09, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 7 using 1d10+3. Damage. 21:09, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 10 -- 3 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 41. Charge Attack against Harkrin. Map Update:  Summary of Round Six so far: Mutant Two dies horribly. Mutant Three Charges Harkin and wounds him. Mutant Four misses Fyodor. Watchman One Charges Mutant Four but misses. Watchmen Two and Three Charge Mutant Three and both wound him. Wounded Mutant #1: Dead. Mutant #2: Dead. Mutant #3: 8 Wounds. Mutant #4: 4 Wounds. Fyodor: 3 Wounds. Harkrin: 5 Wounds. Lukas: Dead(?) Next up: Fyodor, Harkin and Jocelin. This message was last edited by the GM at 02:59, Thu 01 Apr 2021. | |||||
OOC: 13:41, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 4 using 1d10+3. Damage. 13:41, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 24 using 1d100. WS - 36. Which mutant is Fyodor actually fighting? | |||||
She ran down the embankment to the shore beneath the bridge. Seeing how dark it was she grabbed the amulet of Sigmar from around her neck and held it aloft, and channeling the Aethyr caused it to shine brightly. OOC: Half action x2: Move 8 squares to underneath bridge. Fortune Point: extra half action to cast spell. [3 fortune points remaining today] 16:51, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 3 using 1d10. Cast Glowing Light - CN 3. | |||||
07:47, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 81 using 1d100 ((81)). | |||||
The three eyed mutant facing Fyoror gets the best of this contest, for though the blonde watchwoman scores a hit across its chest the mutant strikes her back so heavily Fyodor can almost hear the woman's teeth rattle. She sways and spits blood but remains grimly in the fight. The snouted mutant opposite Harkrin seems to have a charmed life as both Untergard watchmen miss. With it's own sword the boar faced creature slices deep into the greying watchman, causing him to stumble back a half pace. Behind the mutant's snout tiny mad eyes glint in triumph. Beneath the bridge Jocelin's spell renders the shadows beneath the bridge visible in eerie green witchlight. Unfortunately all that is visible on the riverbank is mud, old brickwork and snails and even peering into the River Taub proper illuminates only a few startled fish and a sandy bottom maybe a six feet down. OOC: 11:19, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 1 using 1d10. Ulric's Fury! 11:18, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 13 using 1d10+3. Damage. 11:18, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 3, rolled 12 -- 3 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. All Out Attack against Watchman Two. 11:17, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman One, rolled 73 -- 4 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 31. Dodge Blow . 11:16, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 12 using 1d10+3. Damage. 11:15, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Mutant 4, rolled 47 -- a simple success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. All Out Attack against Watchman One. 11:15, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman Three, rolled 63 -- a simple failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 61. Attack Mutant 3 (+20% for outnumbering, +10% for Aim.). 11:14, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman Two, rolled 80 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 61. Attack Mutant 3 (+20% for outnumbering, +10% for Aim.). 11:13, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman One, rolled 7 using 1d10+3. Damage. 11:12, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Watchman One, rolled 15 -- 3 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 51. Attack Mutant 4 (+10% for outnumbering, +10% for Aim.). Map Update:  Summary of Round Six: Mutant Two dies horribly. Mutant Three Charges Harkin and wounds him. Mutant Four misses Fyodor. Watchman One Charges Mutant Four but misses. Watchmen Two and Three Charge Mutant Three and both wound him. Fyodor attacks and lightly wounds Mutant Four. Harkrin attacks and misses Mutant Three. Jocelin follows Edgar under the bridge. Watchman One attacks and wounds Mutant Four. Watchman Two and Three both miss Mutant Three. Mutant Four badly wounds Watchman One Mutant Three badly wounds Watchman Two Wounded Mutant #1: Dead. Mutant #2: Dead. Mutant #3: 8 Wounds. Mutant #4: 9 Wounds. Watchman One: 6 Wounds. Watchman Two: 7 Wounds. Fyodor: 3 Wounds. Harkrin: 5 Wounds. Lukas: Dead(?) Next up: Edgar. </quote> | |||||
Just as he got halfway under the stone structure he was startled by a green light suddenly appearing before him. His hand went to the club at his belt but as his eye became accustomed too the light he spotted the young mageling that had been chucking darts at the mutants a few moments earlier and he relaxed somewhat. " I fear we have lost the one called Lukas to the river. He did not pass me as the river is flowing the other way, I can only guess that when he it the water he was swept down river. " He listened to the fighting above them for a moment " when the coast is clear I will gather nibbles and ride down stream to see if I can at least find a body to give a burial to if nothing else" | |||||
"Untergard!" The cheer is echoed back in the Acherplatz where the civilians have crept back out of their hiding spots, chattering with giddy excitement. The reassuring figure Captain Schiller (still with his wine stained cloak) and a pair of watchmen approach the fighters on the bridge. "Nice work, men. I dare not think what these beasts would have done to the townsfolk if you weren't here to stop them." The captain looks at the mutant corpses strewn around the marketplace and furrows his brows. "Cut of their heads and mount them by the gate. Let any Chaos-spawn left in the area know that there will be no easy pickings for them in Untergard." he motions at the two fresh watchmen. "Jocaim, Hilde, Leopold good fighting, get yourselves patched up," Captain Schiller says to the three watchmen who had actually fought in the battle, before turning to Fyodor and Harkrin. "You have my thanks, as does the young wizard and the halfling. They fought to save their town as did poor Lukas Kohl, Morr watch over him, but you four are strangers. We're in your debt." As he offers his hand to Fyodor and Harkrin to shake an older woman comes walking up. You all know her at least by sight and reputation. Granny Moescher, the oldest woman in Untergard and the local healer and wise-woman. "I heard about the fight. Ah, looks like some of you dearies will need old Granny Moecher's healing," she clucks, tone more like she is colding one of the orphans in her care for forgetting their chores than someone arriving on the site of a bloody battle. OOC: Well done on the fight! :) We are out of strict combat time so feel free to post at will. This message was last edited by the GM at 23:12, Thu 01 Apr 2021. | |||||
"Da. Fight not over. Shooter across bridge." he says in his heavily accented Reikspiel as he watches the other side of the river where he had seen the sniper earlier. OOC: 16:41, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 100 using 1d100. Perception - 27. Other side is definitely safe! :D | |||||
OOC: Can we get some quick healing from the Granny and then move on with checking the other side? | |||||
Harkrin proves more of a challenge and it is clear the wise woman has never tried her herbs and poultices on a dwarf before. Still she smiles at him as she makes the effort. "Never mind dearie, an ale or two will help don't see if it won't!" The Priest of Sigmar, Father Dietrich has also appears and tries his luck with the wounded dwarf but is forced to shrug and nod at Granny Moescher's assessment: "Thaks be to Sigmar it wasn't worse." More people are joining the hubbub now. Fyodor hears one of the watchmen with the Captain mutter to another; "It must have had a Hochland Long rifle, surely nothing else could have shot so far." This suggestion causes another round of nervous yammering and Captain Schiller raises his hands for calm. At that point, a watchman rushes up to the Captain from across the square. He's a gangly lad named Sprenz, one of the detachment that is stationed at the town and despite not being involved in the battle at the bridge he looks tired and bloodied. "Your pardon, my Captain. It seems this was but a distraction. There has been another assault mounted against the gate! We fought them off but many men are sore injured and several killed." OOC: 14:38, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Father Dietrich, rolled 57 -- 2 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 30. Heal Harkrin. 14:38, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Granny Moescher, rolled 92 -- 3 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 56. Heal Harkrin. 14:37, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Granny Moescher, rolled 3 using 1d10. Wounds Healed. 14:36, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Granny Moescher, rolled 56 -- a simple success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 56. Heal Fyodor. 07:55, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 51 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 39. Set Trap. 07:55, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 39 -- 2 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 18. Outdoor Survival . Bad luck Harkrin. Fyodor you recover three wounds. | |||||
Turning he marches towards the gate defenses with most of the Watch. | |||||
With that he picked up a dozen stones from the ground and put them in a pouch. " so I heard someone say we should cross the bridge to look for the shooter. I say we break the bridge to allow the stretched town watch to focus on defending the gate. The river is high and I doubt even those beasts could cross it. But I also know how the town views this hunk of stone so I suppose we need to secure the other end for them instead" | |||||
"But... this bridge is these people's livelihood... without it they'd be destitute. Well, even more destitute." Her attitude brightened. "Besides, Imperial forces know of this threat and already the army has been here to defend Unterwald from the beastmen. Surely those in Altdorf know of these people's needs and the threats they face. By Sigmar, they'll come again if needed! Surely we cannot destroy the bridge, but fight to preserve it, for the glory of the Empire!" | |||||
He sighed and sat on the edge of the bridge " my dear I commend your view of the world but it is not truly like that" he spread his arms indicating the town around them " little people, innocent people such as these are like flies on the arse of a horse any moment they will get slapped by the tail and be gone that is the nature of it. What you have to decide is do you attempt to cut the tail off or jump at the last moment and leave the rest to die" | |||||
If there was indeed a Hochland Rifle, then that would be a major find. He had heard rumors about such a weapon. "Bridge stay. Lets go." Grabbing his trusted berdysh he started crossing the bridge, eyes peeled for the sniper. | |||||
She walked off after Fyodor shaking her head. "Tsk. And he thinks I'm naive!" OOC: Jocelin will have dropped the Glowing Light once she's out of the darkness beneath the bridge. | |||||
He jumped down off his seat "oh and if a halfling were to be part of a camp they definitely wouldn't be a follower they be the head cook" he added with a grin as he moved across the bridge | |||||
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Ahead of you looms what the locals often refer to as 'Ostgard' the eastern and newer section of Untergard. Though smaller than the western half it was actually wealthier, and you can easily see the fire-gutted ruins of once fine houses. Now the once bustling side of the town is silent. Even the flies are gone, disappearing once the dead had been removed after the original battle (an unpleasant task some at least of you took part in.) You boots echo across the cobbles. Fyodor makes for what had been the coaching house, a large building edging out onto the river. and it is here he soon finds the mutant sniper - or what had been the sniper. The mutant in its haste to retreat had clearly stepped on a weak floorboard on the upper floor crashed through and broken it's neck. It lay in a crumple heap amongst the rubble, face turned up. The mutant was a young human woman and might once have been quite pretty with her slim figure, pale complexion, blonde hair and and almost aristocratic features. Even the rags she wears look like they must once have been a dress of quality. However the left side of her face bares the unmistakable mark of the altered - blue scales cover what had once been human skin and the open left eye is snakelike yellow with a slit pupil. Nearby lies her weapon, a long and complicated firearm that looks both dangerous and difficult to use - and so heavy it might have added to the mutant's fall. The weapon is bent at ugly angle and even Fyodor, who is far more familiar with the firing of black powder weapons than their construction, knows that it will need substantial repair by an expert if it is to work again. | |||||
She looked at the woman sniper and saw in her aristocratic features a potential reflection of her own future, corrupted by the immaterium after a moment’s weakness or break in concentration. Not that she voiced her concern — these peasants needed to be shown confident and capable leadership from Imperial officials like herself. “An advance party, perhaps?” she asked. “Should we look through this part of town for others?” OOC: 17:43, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 78 using 1d100. Search - Target 41. | |||||
"also if we can't destroy the bridge then we need to get the watch to barricade it in some way to give the town's defence time to move from one area to the other to defend it if attacked again" | |||||
"Do you think we'll get some extra wine if we bring the head of this one back to Schiller?" he asked casually, but without directing his question to any of his companions. | |||||
Five sets of footprints are indentifiable in the mud, quite clearly belonging to the mutants you slew on the bridge and the luckless sniper. Further investigation reveals an hours old trail of what might have been a cat, dog or fox but what is clearly some four legged animal. From back across the bridge you can hear raised voices. It doesn't sound like a fight or a panic more like a heated debate back in the Acherplatz. This message was last edited by the GM at 16:05, Sun 04 Apr 2021. | |||||
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He didnt trust magic, but she had proven her worth, so maybe she was trustworthy. Standing up he finally takes the long rifle and slings it across his shoulder. "Kaput. But maybe one day fix." he says and pats the rifle. OOC: Is it a Hochland Long Rifle? and would Fyodor have a guestimate on the cost of fixing it? | |||||
With a sigh " looks like we might have problems in house as well as from without. shall we band of heroes go find out what the heated discussion is about?" With that he started off back across the bridge towards the town square | |||||
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The Captain notices you walking over and smiles ruefully, stroking his steel grey moustache. "Ah welcome back. You again have my thanks but it seems we might have to rethink our plans. Tell them what you told me Hans." Captain Schiller addresses this last point to a bearded man in his thirties, nearly as big as Fyodor and as hairy as Harkrin. He stands with a knot of perhaps a dozen or more exhausted looking civilians, men women and children. They look like strangers but Hans himself is familiar at least by sight - like your missing comrade Lukas Hans is a woodsman from the outskirts of Untergard who has been acting as a scout and game hunter for the past few weeks. "I've been scouting the surrounding countryside and picking up stragglers. These folks with me" - Hans jestures to the survivors he brought with him, "are the survivors I found wandering in the woods. They come from villages all over Middenland. "As I was bringing them back. I found fresh Beastman tracks south of here. It looks like a warherd some 200 strong is headed towards Untergard. I rushed back here to warn you. "I will of course defer to Captain Schiller but it's my feeling that we should leave Untergard before these Beastmen arrive. I don't know if we could withstand them alone and there is no help to be found in time. I visited Grimminhagen six days ago and it's a wreck. We can't expect help from there. What else is new, eh? I must also report that while Grimminhagen was sacked, Graf Elster Sernhauer survived by hiding in his keep." At the mention of the Graf, many in the crowd boo. Even Granny Moescher looks disapproving with a scowl crossing her face. On hearing all of this, the crowd that had momentarily lapsed into silence re-starts loudly debating what should be done. None of you are Untergard natives but you do know there is enough bad blood between the people of Untergard and those of Grimminhagen to flood the Taub and Graf Sernhaur is a name you've often heard spoken in anger. OOC: Fyodor, you've never even so much as seen a long rifle but it might be one from the stories you've heard. It likely won't be cheap to repair but probably cheaper than buying a brand new one! | |||||
He stepped into the square and cleared his throat but the noise of the crowd drowned it out so he picked up a stone put it in his sling and shot it towards the bell tower striking it with a resounding ring. once there was silence he cleared his throat again to get peoples attention " I am not a warrior I am a mere messenger but I have been on a few battle fields in my time. It seems to me that we are poorly prepared to fight off 200 beastmen let alone 20 it might be the best plan to retreat from the town and head for the hills to better set up a defence. Stay here and we could be trapped with food and water in low supply if the monsters don't do for us then starvation will." "I admit i am not one of you so my word might seem hollow and without the pride of your great town behind them but pride never saved a life as far as I know but pride can definitely shorten one. A town can be rebuilt a community cannot." He looked at his fellow defenders " if a small group were to track the warband see where it is heading, it might just pass by if it does then we have valuable information to pass onto our army, if they head this way then they gain nothing but a deserted town. If they find our tracks into the hills then the group can try to lead them away. It is dangerous I know but I feel staying will surely result in nothing but a ghost town" | |||||
There is a chorus of agreement from some of the townsfolk, and a filthy look from Hilde the blonde watchwoman who had helped fight the mutants on the bridge. She clears her throat and states: "Untergard is ours! I say we stay and fight!" Another serenade of agreement, though not quite so loud this time and from notably fewer people. Father Dietrich raises his hands to speak. The lanky Sigmarite has been nodding along to Hilde's declaration. "Well said! Brothers and sisters, I know I am not Untergard born but I swore an oath to the Heldenhammer to serve and guide the people of this town and I will not lightly abandon it. Beyond the wall, covered in lime lie hundreds of dead beastmen and mutants who thought they could take this town. This warherd is a rabble who don't know they've already lost the war. Let us stay and fight." Hans Baumer grimaces and gestures at the ragged band of survivors he escorted to Untergard. "With respect Father they've been through enough battles. Aye I'm not sure the hills are a smart idea but the halfling is right about us going and that towns can be rebuilt." This provokes another vicious argument between those who want to stay and those who seem ready to flee at once. This message was last edited by the player at 22:04, Tue 06 Apr 2021. | |||||
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Looking around he knew that these 50 odd people didn't stand a chance against a horde of Beastmen. He scratched his beard and thought about the options. He could just leave and continue on his journey and quest, but he quickly abandoned that thought. His father would not approve of him leaving the less fortunate to be slaughtered. They could fortify the village and destroy the bridge to reduce the front lines. Then they could hide in the woods or hills, which seemed like a bad idea. He was not familiar with the local politics and normally didnt care about them but in this case their best chance of survival seemed to be Graf Elster Sernhauer's keep. He made his way up to the Captain. "Graf Elster Sernhauer Keep. Seek protection. Reorganize. Fight back. Survive." he made a gesture towards all the villagers. | |||||
"But he's right that the best we four can do is try to lead the beasts away from here... towards a stronghold where the herd can wipe itself out in a futile attack on the might of the Empire. Do we know the garrison of the Graf's keep?" she asked Baumer. | |||||
So he stood to the side, trying (and failing) to look serious rather than bored with the whole affair. | |||||
"If the captain requests the services of the messengers guild then I of course will take a message anywhere he asks but by the time I deliver it, an army is raised and sent this town will be dust. So we have to come up with a plan and fast if these people are to survive" | |||||
She planted her fists on her hips and scowled at the men from the town. “Ok, boys, this is your County, not mine. The Graf’s keep is a strongpoint. Are there any others near here we could draw the herd towards, if that’s what we do?” | |||||
"seriously whatever the town decides it better be decided soon otherwise we'll be deciding who we want to be eaten as the horde storms the square" | |||||
Back to the men. “Well?” | |||||
"I have listened to all sides of the argument." begins Captain Schiller, "and now, as Untergard's rightful leader, I must make a decision. As much as it pains me to say, I agree with Hans, Fyordereski, Stoutfoot and Miss Herzog here... we cannot hope to stand against so many Beastmen. However nor do I think we will find any refuge with the Graf. Far too much bad blood there and if Hans is to be believed he has abandoned even Grimminhagen. Likewise the hills are almost as dangerous as the forest a most here are townsmen and women. Therefore there seems to me only one direction we can go, and that is to the City of the White Wolf. At first light tomorrow, we will head north to Middenheim. It is a long journey and we likely need scouts and those who can handle a sword or an axe but there is a road. We know Count Todbringer is there and within the city's walls we can find safety. With the Count's aid, we will return and finish rebuilding our homes. Untergard will rise again! "Now let us enjoy the Count's bounty and then prepare to depart. There is much to do before sunrise." There is some grumbling from a few of the townsfolk and Father Dietrich looks grim but it is clear that most are happy with the decision... or at least willing to follow Captain Schiller's orders. The immediate prospect of wine and bread may have helped sell the message at least a little. | |||||
"I'm actually called Edgar my sister is the one called Paige" | |||||
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Jocelin looked around the town and bridge. These people needed hope, but she feared the bridge wouldn't survive the beastherd; it would be collapsed out of malice or of cowardice in fear of the Imperial forces which would eventually destroy the foul menace. So few as these couldn't rebuild it even if they had decades, and without the bridge, was there anything for these peasants to return to, really? She pitied them the loss of their identity, ripped from their homes by chaos and the prudence of men. | |||||
"My da' fought alongside the dwarfs at Ubersreik," he explains to Harkrim. "Back when he was in the army." Among the merriment there is no fully hiding the tears glinting in flames shadow - and the resilience too. Untergard might be abandoned but its people were not broken. As the stars and the moons wheel overhead and many begin to drift away to get some sleep for what promises to be an early start, Captain Schiller comes to you, handing you a precious bottle a piece. "It's a few days journey to Middenheim and we won't be moving fast. You're under no obligation to stick with us, you've already helped a lot but I'd appreciate good fighters like you en-route in case we hit anymore trouble." | |||||
He looked at the others for a moment " well if we are not about to be over run by beastmen I will go and feed nibbles she will get extremely grumpy if she does not get her food and I've already given her one of my fingers I do not wish to loose another" he said holding up his left hand to show them the stump of his little finger. "call me if you require my assistance or if these good fellows decide what they will do next" With that he pulled out a pipe from his belt pouch put some leaf in it and walked off towards the inns stable block with a cloud of sweet smelling grey smoke trailing behind him | |||||
Nodding thankfully he put the skin back and opened the bottle. He took a big swig of the wine. Before answering he wiped his mouth with a hand that could easily be the same size as a bear claw. "Fydodor will help. Fyodor was going to Middenheim." | |||||
Jocelin declined the wine. She hadn't had any alcohol since the unfortunate mishap at the Academy when the drunken 3rd year decided to impress her and her friends but instead was pulled skin-first screaming into his belly-button. No vintage was worth that. She did try to dance with the company, but never could find a partner. Probably because she knew different dances. | |||||
Outside the party winds down and everyone is off to bed. Soon the only sounds to be heard are coming from the chapel as Father Dietrich, guarded by several watchman carefully deconsecrates the building lest the beastmen seek to defile it. With the sun just peeping over the horizon everyone assembles in the Acherplatz. Granny Moescher waves over Harkrin and offers him a drink that smells strongly of weird bitter herbs and tastes potent enough if an Elf was to try it they would probably dissolve. "Something for your scars dearie," she coos as if the hardened dwarf convict was one of her wards. Captain Schiller presses small pouches into each of your palms before you set out. "Not much I know but the best I can manage." An dawn the sad group of survivors head out. Some of Captain Schiller's forces are in the lead, followed by the townsfolk, mostly on foot. There are barely four score remaining of the once thriving town. A total of three ox-drawn carts have been assembled, one with Granny and the orphans she cares for, one with general supplies and one with those too old, young or infirm to do much walking. With more of Schiller's troops at the rear. Captain Schiller also posts men along the flanks to watch the woods on either side of the path as they head up the long, indirect path that will take them to Grimminhagen, then through Immelsched and then finally to fabled Middenheim. "It's the thirteenth of Vorgeheim and we'll be at least five days on the road," Captain Schiller muses. "More likely six. Still we should be in the City of the White Wolf well before Geheimnistag Ulric and Sigmar willing." OOC: Everyone take 10 GC in the pouches Schiller gave you. Harkrin your wounds are healed - Granny Moescher might look like an apple left in the sun too long but she knows her elixirs. By default you are with the main group but decide which positions you are taking at least for the first day of travel. | |||||
In the morning he packed his meager belongings, ate anything that could be defined as breakfast and joined the caravan. He took position on the right side and in the middle of the caravan next to the 2nd cart so he was able to support the front and rear in case of an ambush. | |||||
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He spent the journey between riding with the main body of the group and spending time as an outrider checking that the road ahead was safe | |||||
He kept his axe in hand and his eyes scanned the surrounding forest. He felt better thanks to the strange elixir, but the scars on his head still itched. He scratched his beard. Middenheim was the right place to be, but the dwarf knew that the trip will not be an easy one. | |||||
The road is dominated on both sides by the dark green of the forest, but to your right you can see the land rise up into the Howling Hills, their bare summits poking above the treeline like islands in the sea. Father Dietrich, who is travelling with a leather satchel he keeps a tight grip on converses with Jocelin as they walk near the middle of the caravan: "I've never been to Middenheim but I imagine it won't be much like our Altdorf. I do know there is a Sigmarite temple there but it is overshadowed by Ulric - in that city, across most of Middenland the lord of winter still reigns." The first day and night of the march pass uneventfully. Progress is painfully slow as the group can only move as fast as the slowest townsman. Carts and Children, as well as food shortages further hamper progress. Halfway through the second day, the convoy approaches Grimminhagen, a town which at least from the distance looks of larger size than Untergard. Without a word Hans begins leading the column around the ruins of the town. You've heard enough from the townsfolk to know why... The people of Untergard are not welcome in Grimminhagen and no solace will be found there. OOC: Anyone who wants to go looking for food make an Outdoor Survival roll. Anyone wanting to get a closer look at Grimminhagen make a very easy (+30%) Perception roll. | |||||
OOC: 19:22, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 10 using 1d100. Perception 57. | |||||
13:31, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 1 using 1d100 ((1)). | |||||
16:59, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 62 using 1d100. Perception target 65 | |||||
As they passed Grimmenhagen Jocelin lamented the animosity among Imperial subjects. "Unity is what it needed in the face of the Unspoken; it is such a shame these divisions beset us so!" She wanders to the edge of the caravan's path to take a better look. OOC: 13:08, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 25 using 1d100. Perception - Target 71. | |||||
As you near Grimminhagen on the afternoon of the second day each of you get a good view of the town. Hans Bauman had described the place as a 'wreck' and he wasn't exaggerating; Grimminhagen was larger than Untergard and had once possessed perhaps a thousand inhabitants but now it was a fire blackened ruin. It was not however abandoned. Even from a few hundred yards away you can clearly see people (and they are obviously humans rather than beastmen or mutants) clearing debris, repairing palisades and otherwise engaged in activity. Harkrin, who manages to find just the right spot can make out further details; the survivours look like townsfolk not terribly different from those of Untergard and there is a banner flying from a stone structure that is probably the town hall - a green flag with a stylised black dragon emblazoned upon it. | |||||
"Aside from more civilians." he said when he finally reached Captain Schiller "they seem to have some sort of military out there." he pointed his axe at the town, the blade missing some unfortunate guard by inches. "Would be safer to join the forces perhaps?" | |||||
"You ask a fair question dwarf, but there is ancient bad blood between the people of Untergard and those of Grimminhagen. Most of the people here would sooner march with orcs or fimir than them. Let Graf Sternhaeur look after his own." The Captain glanced around then continued. "That said you and you your friends are outsiders... I doubt you'd find a happy audience but perhaps you could warn them of the beastherd on the march. We're moving slow enough with the ox-carts that you'll catch up with us." | |||||
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"Why so mad with Grimminhagen" he asked the captain. | |||||
"And as the good captain states as outsiders our word might carry more weight than if he were to speak them" | |||||
His expression turns grim and he looks coldly at Grimminhagen. "We've never forgiven them and they've never forgiven us." The forest road leads down a slight incline directly into Grimminhagen - in fact the convoy has probably added at least a couple of hours onto the journey by skirting the town - but none of the Untergarders seem to be looking with longing at Grimminhagen. Many indeed are ignoring it ostentatiously and you can catch a glimpse of Granny Moescher's normally cheerful face turn into a scowl as she looks at the ruins. As the four of you (or five including the faithful pony Nibbles) turn down the road towards Grimminhagen you get a good feel for the place. Like Untergard it bridges the River Taub, though this far upstream the river is maybe half the width it is at Untergard. A stone wall surrounds two hundred or so buildings. There are holes in the wall now and most of the buildings are in sad shape or outright ruined but as you near the gate there is still a flurry of activity from within. Two men emerge carrying halberds. They look tired and unshaven, their clothing is torn and dirtied and their maroon cloaks tattered but it is clear from their bearing and the practiced way they hold their weapons that these are either watchmen or state troopers. The duo look at you suspiciously, then at the refugees behind you, then back at you. "Who goes there? State your business in Grimminhagen," the taller says. | |||||
"Well go on, Messenger. Convince them of the need to stop these petty squabbles from dividing us." | |||||
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"Well? Ranald got your tongue?" the taller asks. This message was last edited by the GM at 11:48, Thu 15 Apr 2021. | |||||
She points in the direction of Grimmenhagen. "I am Mistress Herzog, Apprentice of the Winds, representative plenipotentiary of the Academy and authority in Altdorf by right. We come bearing greetings to the brave volk of Grimminhagen, its Lord Graf, and dire warning. "That the Pax Sigmarium may be maintained in unity among the free volk, let us pass. Convey us to your lord." This message was last edited by the player at 14:00, Thu 15 Apr 2021. | |||||
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" if you could allow us through your defence we can deliver said message and be on our way. We have a number of messages to deliver to a number of towns and villages along this route and dare not tally as what we need to say is important and urgent" | |||||
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"Fine you can go in. Entrance toll is normally two pennies, but I guess if you are on official business... you can find the Balif at the town hall in the Leopoldplatz. Can't miss it, just walk straight ahead." the taller guard says. He and his comrade stand aside and you are free to enter Grimminhaegen. Inside the gate you quickly get the impression of a town that is at once bigger than Untergard (had been) but also poorer. The buildings are plainer and built to an older style and the streets narrower. A variety of pale faces appear at windows or step outside doors to look at you pass and you hear snatches of whispers about the newcomers. The vast majority appear human but you notice a handful of halflings among the citizenry. The Leopoldplatz itself is a square at the centre of the town, backed by the tall narrow buildings favoured across so much of Middenland. A particularly large stone structure, clearly the town hall stands on the side nearer the river, a green pendant with a black dragon flying from the spire. The door of the hall is closed and guarded by two grim looking men with halberds. The other significant structure in the platz is, of all things, a large tent in the middle of the cobbles. Perhaps a score of civilians are milling about it under the eyes of a trio of armed guards. | |||||
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OOC: How are the guards armed and clad? And is there any indication on how large the remaining city guard force is? | |||||
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A lot of people are bustling in and out of the tent with pensive expressions on their faces and their is a hint of (cheap) incense in the air, wafting from inside. Outside the entrance are three town guards with the same maroon cloaks and halberds as those you saw at the entrance. One, seemingly the leader, a tall red haired woman taps the haft of her polearm on the cobbles and studies you with critical grey eyes. "A schilling each for non-townsmen to see the Emperor's Shrine," she states as she sees you approach. "A schilling and a half for the dwarf." At Edgar's statement she raises an eyebrow and points at the door to what you presume is the town hall. "You'll be wanting the Baliff - he's in there." As far as can Fyodor can tell the people here seem much like those of Untergard. Tired, hungry looking civilians, some bearing wounds from recent battle. Including those on the gate and a few on the street the Kislevite has made out maybe a dozen armed men and women. That's about the same as the surviving Untergard watch under Captain Schiller but given there seem more people in Grimminhagen it could be twice that, maybe more including able bodied civilians. | |||||
As he entered the building he stopped anyone nearby and asked for directions to the Balif | |||||
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One of the other halberdiers, a rangy looking fellow who has poorly disguised the fact he is eavesdropping pipes up: "If you are interested I have a locket of hair took from the tail of the Emperor's horse. Only six pfennings!" Edgar and Harkrin find their requests answered with a shrug and a gesture via thumb into the town hall. "He's in there messenger." Harkrin notices the guards at the townhall look notably grumpier than their counterparts at the tent but they are not actively hostile. | |||||
"Where did army go?" | |||||
From her coin purse she draws three schillings and hands them to the guard, saying, "Please excuse our companions... the mootlings and the dwarfs are stout allies in times such as these, but..." and she trails off, shrugging, leaving the rest unsaid but understood. Putting her arm through Fyodor's elbow she leads him inside the tent. | |||||
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On the table there is a bowl of what is presumably blessed water for pilgrims to dab themselves and a collection of token offerings - copper rings, small coins bearing the Emperor's likeness, pewter and wooden talismans marked with the griffon or the wolf, several hammers and even a sword that looks like it has seen better days. As Fyodor and Jocelin watch a young townswoman enters, shyly drops a cheap looking bracelet on the table, kneels before the shrine and whispers a few words in (presumably) prayer, then makes the mark of Sigmar's hammer on her forehead before leaving. Meanwhile Edgar and Harkrin find themselves walking down a corridor in the town hall and entering an office. Dusty portraits of aristocrats stare down at them from the walls. The bulk of the room is home to a huge wooden desk and behind that desk, nearly buried by parchments and books sits a portly moustached man in dark blue brocade. He is evidently writing something as you enter and looks up, quill still in hand, expression tired. "Well?" | |||||
He then circled the table to see if there was anything else of interest. | |||||
" the news is not good, there is a large horde of beastmen moving in this general direction and will be upon your town in mere days if not sooner. The people of Untergard are travelling towards the city to look for protection. I suggest you rally your people and do likewise. Not even your defenses will stand against such a horde." Edgar didn't think his words would change the situation Humans had a knack for getting into trouble and being in places they shouldn't. They were also stubborn, sometimes even more so than his friend the dwarf. But he was asked to deliver message and now he was free to join the Untergard towns people and head away from danger. | |||||
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"I see... well I will have to inform the Graf of course before I take any decision. I should warn you though not to mention the name 'Untergard' in this business should you talk to anyone here." The baliff picks up a fresh sheaf of parchment from his overflowing desk, scribbles a few illegible lines on it and seals it with his signet ring. Then he picks up a small brass bell and rings it. A few moments later and a guard appears in the doorway. "Viktor, carry this letter to Graf Sternhauer at once," the bailiff states "Yes Herr Beck," the guard says, saluting, taking the letter and disappearing the way he came. With a sigh Herr Beck leans back on his hard wooden seat (which creaks audibly), appears to think about something for a moment, then opens a desk drawer and retrieves a small money pouch that clinks as he handles it. The portly official pushes it across the the desk towards Edgar. "Thank you, and take this for your troubles. Best I can do. Is there anything more you can tell me?" This message was last edited by the GM at 10:09, Mon 26 Apr 2021. | |||||
He escorted her out of the tent and listened to her questions. The warrior towered over the woman and he wondered for a brief second what her story was. He then spoke slowly in his broken Reikspiel. "Six months. In Empire."he answered her and he scratched his chin before continuing "Me from Kislev. Cold North. Dangerous area." | |||||
OOC: Unless Edgar has anything else to discuss with the man, Harkrin will get back outside and hurry his companions to return to the Untergard column. | |||||
By the time you exit the gates a light rain is falling and moving up the road you can see the caravan of refugees has only moved on a little way - in fact moving up the trees you can see one of the rear guards (probably Hilde, judging by the shape the flashes of blonde hair escaping from beneath her helmet) talking to some other people to your immediate south as you rejoin the main road. OOC: The pouch Herr Beck hands Edgar turns out to have ten silver schillings in it. Easy (+10%) Perception checks please. | |||||
23:30, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 21 using 1d100. Perception target 45 | |||||
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Impossible as it seemed, this final figure looked like your supposedly dead comrade Lukas Kohl. | |||||
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He felt a curious feeling of relief that they all appeared to be in one piece, but then it turned into another feeling that he didn't care for. It was one of resentment and he felt his anger build inside him as they tramped up the hill towards them. He bit his lip hard, and felt the coppery taste of his own blood at the tip of his tongue. When the time came to defend Untergard they all held back and let him fight the mutants on his own. When he fell from the river they left him to die. He'd practically sacrificed himself and neither the town nor the outsiders cared less and now here he was, feeling angry about himself for feeling so hurt. He breathed in and tried to calm himself, turning to his new friends who had held back from the conversation with Hilde. "These are the people I was telling you about," as if it wasn't obvious by their distinction from the rest of the townsfolk. Whatever they decided wasn't his concern in any case, really he felt he was doing everyone concerned a favour. He steeled himself to let his feelings pass and greet them with a friendly 'hello' and just let the others decide what they thought best. That was until the sullen dwarf made it to the top of the hill and asked them what they were doing - like he owned the Drakwald! "What am I doing here?" he added incredulously, with a look of wide eyed astonishment on his face. "Why am I standing here?" he snapped, as if it was an affront to the Dwarf that he should be alive and talking to people he knew and called neighbour. "We're talking to Hilde here. What's it of your business?" he added dismissively, turning away from the dwarf and deciding not to explain himself further. | |||||
"I can see you are standing and talking. Why aren't you moving? In fact, why isn't the column moving? With tempo like that, you'll all get old and die before we get to Middenheim." he grumbled. | |||||
When they joined up with Edgar and Harkin she decided not to ask the mooting about it; no doubt he’d be testy about anyone questioning whether an accredited bonded journeyman Messenger 3rd class with double-stars or whatever he was could deliver a message. Not worth the bother, or so she hoped for the Grimmenhagen volk’s sake. Some time later when they came upping those waiting in the road she viewed them with suspicious curiousity until Lukas spoke. “Lukas! Lukas! Thank Sigmar’s Shield!” she cried, tugging on Fyodor’s arm. “We thought you perished! The mooting and I searched for you in the river, but you’d been swept away past us to your death, or so we mourned. Have you heard?! We’re taking your people away to the safety of stout Imperial walls; they’ll be so happy to see you safely returned to them!” | |||||
"You alive but you crazy." he said tapping his right temple. "Next time, no charge. Stay close. Together" he waved at the group "we stronger." | |||||
It was the man from the North's turn to speak next and his words were indeed wise. Lukas bit his tongue again, not to quell anger but to avoid a retort which would serve no use (along the lines of, 'how was I supposed to know when the mutants attacked you were all going to wait for them to launch into the townsfolk'). It would be a stupid argument and serve no purpose. He'd learnt his lesson and would not try to be a hero again. He coughed, and looked around as though he was saying something rather secretive but really he didn't mind those present hearing. "I'm not sure if I am going to Middenheim straight away actually. I'll probably catch the caravan up later." He did feel an affinity to the townsfolk of Untergard but it wasn't a given he was 'one of them' and would automatically follow. "I've got some business escorting my friends here to Grimminhagen first," he said nodding to the trio who saved his life. | |||||
Beside him a beautiful woman with olive skin tones and dark hair and eyes, watching you. She too seems to be judging the situation but her expression seems left doubtful - or she is better at hiding it. | |||||
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"Yes Gunther, these are the people I told you about." He turned back to Edgar, Harkrin, Jocelin and Fyodor. "This is Gunther and his friends. They saved my life and in turn I'm helping them with a bit of local escort duty of my own to Grimminhagen. I can vouch for them, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for them." | |||||
She looks at Gunther. The red haired man does not look happy at this sharing of information but nods in assent. | |||||
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" don't you ever do that to me again ....you hear if you intend to die do it on land so I can morn over your body" he then huffed and held out his hand ....as his dad used to say a handshake resolved all issue between friends | |||||
OOC: DM, would you set up language groups for us? This message was last edited by the player at 18:27, Wed 05 May 2021. | |||||
This message was last edited by the player at 04:43, Thu 06 May 2021. | |||||
He caught Luciana's eye and raised his own eyebrow in interest. It was a curious position, he had loyalty to Gunther and his group - what Luciana did for him he would never forget and yet he was but a guide for them. He also had a kinship with the people of Untergard and this band of individuals who he lived with in the aftermath of the assault on time. Both in and out, he was both alone and the conduit to these groups. He had advised Gunther, passing on both his recommendation and caution. His sense of loyalty though prevented him from speaking further. | |||||
His own eyebrow unconsciously mirrored that of the charcoal burner, raised at Luciana, "Can we let Lukas discharge his debt, let him and his friends continue on with the ... people .. of Untegard? Or do we need him a little longer?" As he asked, his eyes flicked to the man's companions, a steady bunch, useful in a pinch, and hoped she received the interfence | |||||
Harkrin was not particularly happy about their presence and their talk was difficult to follow. Sure, they were looking for something around the town, but the way they put it... well, it sounded like they tried to hide something. And that made him distrust them. At least for now. | |||||
Gunther snorted at this but said nothing. Hilde, the blonde watchwoman walks past you. "I hate to break up this friendly meeting but the rest of us are heading North," she gestures to the convoy of refugees which is indeed slowly pulling away from you. Gunther glances at the others then comes to a decision. "Yes, we're heading north too, we'll join you for a while. I ah think our destination lies further along anyway." He looks to both Pieter and Lukas for your confirmation. | |||||
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"It's settled then, we'll bring up the rear of this column until our friends need to depart. Hilde, we'll get word up to Captain Schiller that there are a few more joining us for a short while. Ulric knows it will be needed, we narrowly escaped the attention of a band of beastmen just last night ourselves." Lukas warily eyed Luciana. He did not understand her words when she spoke in her native tongue, but he suspected she was glad to use it. Neither Gunther nor Pieter seemed overly impressed with her at the moment but Lukas chose to trust her judgement, after all it wasn't really his business. Agreeing that they had to move on Lukas began to walk. He turned to the assembled group to ask how they had fared in Grimminhagen. "Did you go to warn them of the incoming beastherd? Were they as stubborn as mules?" He suspected that before the people of Grimminhagen left they would count every brass penny less they drop one on the walk to Middenheim. | |||||
"We go. Herd be here soon." he said as the group seemed to have agreed on joining forces. | |||||
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She nodded at the prospect of traveling with Lukas' friends, and only tut-tutted the predicted fate of the Grimmenvolk at the halfling's dire prediction. "Oh this one is so dramatic. The volk have the right reverence for Sigmar: they'll pull together despite the hardships, though, yes, they will grieve for those lost for lack of help..." | |||||
He did however share Edgar's assessment of the situation and nodded along with the halfling. "I imagine that in your trade it is rarely good news you are carrying and it is messages of worry and sorrow you have to impart. If you wish to enamour yourself with the people of Untergard and raise their spirits and speed to Middenheim I'd tell them what you told me. There are a fair few here who would be glad to see the back of Grimminghagen!" Perhaps it was inappropriate to jest about the sacking of a town after what befell his own home but these times brought the grimmest of humours.... | |||||
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As the day marches on the weather grows cooler even as the sky remains blue and clear, promising a morning frost. Luciana, hailing from sunny Tilea looks notably chilly and wraps a cloak ever harder around her frame but the Imperials are less affected - and to Klinka and the Kislevite Fyodor a little bite to the air still feels positively balmy. As the evening approaches Captain Schiller passes word down the line that they intend to camp for the night by the side of the road. OOC: If anyone wants to go up to talk to Captain Schiller (or Granny Moescher or Father Dietrich for that matter) they can easily do so - the refugees are moving at the rate of the slowest ox-drawn wagon. | |||||
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But first he needed a moment's rest and sat down next to Pieter and rested his bones for a while. | |||||
He then diced the potatoes up and added dried herbs and seasoning before adding some water and just a little ale from two bottles. while that bubbled away he took the skins and placed them on a small iron plate he also took out of his pack. to these he added a small cut of fat he kept wrapped in greased paper as they cooked he sat quietly tasting thing every now and then. Finally he took out two wooden bowls and spooned a helping of spiced potatoes and crispy skins into them before handing one to Lukas " its not high fare but it is tasty and will keep you going perhaps tomorrow one of us can catch a hare and I can add meat to it." With that he put a lid on the pan intending to offer a serving to the others when they turned up before sitting quietly and eating his supper | |||||
He wasn't going to ask for a share but he felt his eyes drawing to the diced potatoes simmering in the ale, and at one point he was embarrassed when his stomach rumbled. When Edgar offered a share Lukas was genuinely grateful. "That's very kind of you Edgar," he said warmly before spooning a mouthful. His taste buds exploded. Lukas didn't know what seasonings were used or how Edgar had turned simple potatoes into something heavenly. He had heard the rumours about halfling food but couldn't ever remember trying any. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of meals he had which neither his deceased father or himself had made. For him, cooking was purely functional and for sustenance. They were the best potatoes he had ever had. "These are delicious Edgar," he cried in between mouthfuls (excitement had removed any table manners he may have had), and then he realised he may have just offended Edgar, who he imagined with a proper kitchen, time and ingredients would be able to rustle up any kind of wonders. "I mean it, really," he said sincerely, "just what I needed, and yes tomorrow it will be easy enough for us to slip off and catch something for the pot," he added, before catching Pieter's eye at the inference of his words. He looked at the bowl, the food already 'well started'. He passed the bowl to Pieter , urging him to try the food. "Here...try these, they're really good Pieter." He turned back to Edgar and smiled, "I have to share 'em... no matter what life throws at us, having someone who can cook is a lifesaver!' | |||||
"the pan of a halfling is there for all to share" he said with a warm smile. It was not in a halflings make up not to offer his food to others and has the host of the pan tonight he was going to be the best host he could in the situation they found themselves | |||||
His mouth watered, following the sample that Lukas tasted, saying nothing. His smile was far more genuine at the gesture from the burner, and then by the maker of their meal, and he bobbed his head in thanks, tasting and then lingering over the well-prepared treat, "You have my thanks, Master Stoutfoot; I have heard tell of the pans of the smallfolk, but this exceeds those tales" | |||||
As a messenger he had been taught to give good and bad news and this put him in good stead to be able to distract people who were in difficult situations. A simple meal was a good distraction from the horrors encountered and those they might meet along the way. | |||||
He paused, frowned, “Years, now” | |||||
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"That's a kind offer friend, although I doubt I would move for a month with seven courses Edgar! Tell me, where is home when you are not being fleet of foot for the Empire?" He'd heard of a land of Halfling's but he had never been there, much like he had never really been anywhere beyond the outskirts of the Drakwald. | |||||
Captain Schiller issues orders for watches to be set and various preparations for the night to be set up. Tonight's dinner - for those without Edgar's skills with the skillet and long experience on the roads - includes hard bread, a little cheese and a few rabbits caught on route. All of it makes for thin pickings for the group but with more than half the distance to Middenheim covered there seems to be a little optimism in the air and people are willing to talk to take their mind off their empty stomachs and aching feet. Luciana is happy to chatter away to her new friend, though the two quickly find they need to speak slowly to fully communicate. As the two woman stroll through camp (attracting several admiring stares) they arrive at the ox-drawn wagon that houses Granny Moescher and her wards... only to find it empty. Part of the mystery is quickly solved. Several of Granny's orphans are soon found wandering through camp. They are crying and wailing. "Granny, Granny, where are you, Granny?" A quick scan of the camp does not turn her up. Captain Schiller frowns. "Taal's Teeth! What now? Someone's going to have to find her." He mutters something under his breath about not being a babysitter, although you're pretty sure that his lack of desire to watch the children is a mask for his concern for Granny Moescher. | |||||
He took the lid off the pan and stirred the contents " I intend to build a little place on the edge of our land for myself once I get too old to deliver messages and have a chair by a large roaring fire with my larder shelves stacked to the ceiling and my cellar full of wine and ale" he gave a smile and put the lid back on the pan. " but that is for another day, if I never make it back I want to know that I did all I could in my small way to protect my family from what these poor people have faced and will face in the coming days." | |||||
"It sounds like a fine future my friend, how good it would be to grow old and be content rather than just survive and hope that we get through the next day..." he said quietly. Now they had to run, and move and just try and be safe of course. Even growing old seemed to be an ambition out of reach at the moment. "There's part of me that always would have been content with my little place in the woods and my burner, but there's no going back there now..." Of course, he was only being slightly truthful. There was a part of him now that had been awakened and needed the thrill of adventure and excitement now that he had a taste of it. He didn't like to admit it but in some ways it was just as appealing as a warm fire and full larder that Edgar spoke off. As he ruminated about the past, present and future his ears, and then his eyes were drawn to some commotion further away within the camp. His eyes caught the colourful robes of the wizard and then he was sure he saw Luciana with her talking to Captain Schiller. Part of him thought, 'just leave it' and to focus on his potatoes instead but something wasn't right. Lukas gesticulated to the disturbance in the camp and tried to indicate Jocelin, "what do you think she's up to then?" he asked those assembled nearby. | |||||
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He quickly, more out of instinct than thought took the pan off the fire and laid it down on a nearby rock. Taking up his club he nodded to lukas then moved out. He didn't take a torch his night vision made moving about in the dark no issues for him | |||||
She tried to gather all of Granny's orphans together and sang a song to comfort them. "We're going to play a game, isn't this fun! Now, close your eyes... think of what she looks like, from her silver hair, to her shawl, to the funny things she can do with her spots. Ok, have it? Now... imagine where she was when you last remember seeing her DONT SAY IT! ... just think." Jocelin put her hand under the chin of the oldest girl. "Ok, sweetie. Open your eyes. Do you remember? Can you point the direction of where that was?" For a few minutes, Jocelin talked with the children to find out where Granny had walked off to before eventually heading in that direction and talking with the refugees she met if they had seen her. OOC: 21:10, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 5 using 1d100. Gossip - target 34. What time of day is it? Dark, twilight, late afternoon? | |||||
"Something happened?" | |||||
"Wait up a moment fellas, Granny probably isn't lost." He wasn't sure why there was such a kerfuffle at the moment, even though it now appeared that Jocelin was appearing to console distraught children, a task which there was likely no spell for. "Granny likes to be on her own, she's probably just gone to find some herbs," 'or maybe just get a bit of peace and quiet' he thought. Granny Moescher was a little like him, known in Untergard but not really part of it. Deciding that the best thing to do would be to head over to Jocelin and Luciana and try and listen to what the children were saying he walked a little closer, but stood back. He wasn't really used to children (at all) and although he had taken a dip in the river recently he knew that years of soot had ingrained in his face and with his big beard he 'possibly' may not have had a kindly face children would find endearing. Getting closer, it was evident that the wizard had managed to soothe the little ones somewhat so he decided to listen to see what the children would say. | |||||
When he got back to the starting point he took a step 10 yards further out and repeated the process increasing his range and distance from the camp | |||||
"Any luck?" he asked the Halfling. "If they start walking around the forest with all those torches, they'll probably attract some unwanted attention." he muttered part to himself. | |||||
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Captain Schiller, who had walked over to see what the fuss was about looks at Lukas with obvious surprise, though he quickly recovers. "Still alive Kohl? Good man, I'm sure there is tale there worth hearing when we aren't immediately beset with problems." He glances thoughtfully at Pieter, Gunther and Luciana, and raises one grey white caterpillar of an eyebrow. "More strays?" Luciana offers to take temporary care of the orphans and Captain Schiller orders Father Dietrich to go among the other refugees and calm their nerves before the disappearance provokes an active panic. "We'll organise a search. Mistress Herzog, any chance she has spirited away by magic?" Meanwhile Edgar and Harkin have found what looks like a foot print in the mud at the tree line. It is now dusk and with the moons and stars peeping through the clouds there is still enough light to see without torches. OOC: Can I get either a Follow Trail or Outdoor Survival roll from anyone looking to do some searching. Jocelin you can make a Magical Sense roll (and one of the above rolls too if you are also searching.) This message was last edited by the GM at 13:33, Thu 20 May 2021. | |||||
17:09, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 89 using 1d100. Outdoor survival target 35. | |||||
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"You could say that Captain," he said, "and there will be a tale when there's some ale, I can tell you that." He noticed the look towards the trio from the Drakwald and could instantly see Schiller thinking 'three more mouths' but also more likely sizing them up for anything useful that could help them get to Middenheim safely. "They're with me Captain. Good people too, I'll vouch for them." And Lukas meant it too, though just how much he could vouch for someone he'd known for a couple of nights was another question. You know what Granny's like Captain, she likes her own space but we'll look for her anyway, though if she's in a grump when we find her we'll tell her you sent us," he added with a smirk. Turning to Gunther and Pieter he said, "If you want to get in the Captain's good graces you should join the search." And with that, he tried to find Edgar and the dwarf. Alas it was getting dark for him and he was somewhat preoccupied so he felt his contribution wasn't really helping. (OOC: 19:52, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 93 -- 4 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44. Outdoor Survival (Int 44).) | |||||
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She to saw the others walking around the camp, and glanced about shaking her head. "Other's eyes are keener in this dim light, but..." she closed her eyes but opened herself up to the Winds, that she might see the unseen; when she opened them her irises had variegated, and scintillating light danced on the surface. OOC: 09:03, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 82 using 1d100. Tracking/Survival (Untrained). 09:04, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 85 using 1d100. Magical Sense - Target 43. 09:06, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 42 using 1d100. Magical Sense - Target 43 FORTUNE POINT. 3 Fortune Points Remain | |||||
14:13, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 89 -- 7 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 18. Outdoor Survival | |||||
It is in fact Lukas who discovers a trail of footprints in what is probably Granny's size leading off into the undergrowth. The charcoal burner literally stumbles across the tracks by tripping over a trailing tree root and landing with his nose inches from one of the prints. Fyodor, Edgar and Harkin all of whom are able to see in the dark are able to see Lukas's discovery more clearly and could probably lead a group to follow. OOC: You all have ridiculously bad skill with dice! ;-) This message was last edited by the GM at 10:14, Wed 26 May 2021. | |||||
With a pat on his back he says "Back you. No charge this time." which makes the Kislivite break out in laughter. With that he grabs his arquebus follows the trail as the lead scout. | |||||
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This message was last edited by the player at 17:59, Wed 26 May 2021. | |||||
It was then that he heard the tones of the wizard cry for them (at least that's what he thought it was). "Hang on a moment Edgar, I'd better see what it is that she wants...." he muttered (a little grateful to get out of the gloom). Leaving the edges of the woodland he headed back to where Jocelyn and Luciana were, close to the children. "Hello Jocelyn, did you just call about something?" he asked, keen to mask his lack of understanding of her High-Altdorf lexicon. | |||||
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"Oh, yes. Lukas, yes. Sorry," she shook her head and spoke to herself to clear her mind. "... Many merry maids march miles more most midday mornings manifesting moral manners mostly memorized..." A deep breath and exhale. "Sorry! Ha. Yes. I, ah, I think I should go with you because..." she paused, considering her words, "... because I think Granny would appreciate me being there, and... and I think she might not want to be found otherwise. Or maybe it's she would not be found. Squirrels and birds are hard to track, you know. Ever so much harder than people." Her bright smile returned, and she looked at Luciana, walking to her and extending her hands to grasp hers. "I didn't know! We must have a talk later, it's so exciting!" In a low voice she asked, "[Language unknown: Lataer tho thi? M oreai laec ti ess paomssniil?]" Before the woman could answer, she brightly said, "No matter! Upon our return. Promise!" She squeezed Luciana's hands touching each cheek to hers and kissing, then released her and skipped over to Lukas, taking the elbow of his right arm in hers and looking up to him. "Ok, let's go!" | |||||
"Um...good I think," Lukas replied, not quite understanding the riddles Jocelin spoke in although he found the most unusual feeling of a warm smile form on his lips when he observed the interplay between the two women. In those days after the battle in 'The Filthy Pig' Lukas had determined that Jocelin was the strangest, most enigmatic and unusual woman he had ever met. That crown had now been usurped by Luciana (at least temporarily) as Lukas had guessed she was both exotic, mysterious and dangerous, but also possessed of a deep kindness. His smile was one of joy that Luciana had clearly made the same impression on Jocelin as she had on him. He wondered if everyone who lived beyond Untergard was this exciting... He stumbled a little when Jocelin linked his arm and they began to walk into woods where the rest were gathered. He assumed that's how everyone walked in Altdorf but it nevertheless felt a little strange to him. "How well did you get to know Granny back in Untergard?" he asked the lady from the big city. "She'll be at home in the woods, night or day. She may not take kindly to being bothered." Lukas felt Granny Moescher had a heart of gold but she needed her own space too, "Unless you know something else?" His question was a suggestion rather than an inquisition. As they reached the edge of the wood and the voices of the others Lukas quietly, yet helpfully reminded Jocelin of his constraints. "Watch your step. Can't see in the dark as well as the others..." | |||||
"Also" he added, finishing his carving. "I'd suggest you stay more quiet in the woods than you were in the camp. Drawing any unwanted attention would not help us in our quest." | |||||
The group of Fyodor, Edgar, Klinka, Lukas, Pieter and Jocelin sets off following the trail through the forest. The leaves are slick with rain water which reflects the silver of Mannslieb, at times making it seem as if someone had dropped a few hand mirrors along the trail. Furry moths whirr by and in the distance you can hear larger animals moving. The forest is vividly alive but none of you get any great sense of visceral wrongness you might have felt in the presence of Chaos. Lukas especially is vividly reminded of his night of his shelter in Taal's shrine while Harkrin feels uncomfortable surrounded by so many trees - how can anyone breath out here? After ten minutes you find her, and she is not alone. You are relieved to see Granny in a forest clearing, with some freshly dug herbs in her hand. She is staring in surprise at five cloaked Elves with drawn bows.  The Elf you assume is the leader, a tall and androgynous blonde with his or her face covered by a scarlet cloak steps forward and in a voice that seems both melodic and menacing says, "Explain yourself, witch, or my arrow flies true." OOC: Remember most of you will not have met or even seen Elves before, even if you will all have heard stories. There is an eerie not-quite human beauty and hypnotic grace them, especially when they move. Harkrin hasn't met any Elves either but is less than impressed being a Dwarf. Jocelin, from cosmopolitan Altdorf has seen and even spoken to Elves before so they are not quite so uncanny but even she can see these strange forest warriors are unlike the merchants and magicians she had encountered back in the city. This message was last edited by the GM at 11:45, Tue 01 June 2021. | |||||
It wasn't the presence of steel that made him feel safe particularly, it was more that the forest was quite happy living and breathing and existing without their intrusion. He could smell the heady damp scent of moss and leaf, a welcome distraction from the stink of man, or worse the polluted pungent stench of beastmen. It didn't take long for them to reach the glade and see Granny threatened by what could only be described as physical tree spirits. He'd heard of the tree dwellers before - he had heard all the rumours - they were invisible, they could fly, they could shrink to the size of a handspan but now he came face to face with them he could finally tell others - he had met an Elf. The only problem was that they were armed, arrogant and aggressive. Despite the beauty of their leader Lukas felt the same disdain from them that the Imperials had clearly exuded. Arrogance and a certainty in their own strength. Lukas searched for words and realised he was agog, he could not voice his thoughts in the presence of such an alluring figures. Except, that he wasn't in a dream where he explored the darkness of the forest, he was ten minutes away from the people of Untergard and Granny was being threatened. "She's not a witch!" he blurted out (and instantly regretted). "She's a healer and she's helping people!" he cried without really considering that the difference between witch and healer in rural parts was really one of perception... | |||||
He raised his hands in a sign of platitude. "we mean no harm we have just come looking for our elderly friend.... As my companion said...." he gave Lukas a stern look before continuing "... Granny here is a healer no witch craft involved. She tends our people for their ills and she wondered off from camp to find supplies. " Having delivered messages to elven folk in the past, though not Wood elves it had to be said the little halfling made sure he showed all the respect he could muster " please accept our humble apologies for our trespass it was not intended and if we had known the forest was protected my elven folk we would has sort permission before hand." He waved his hand behind him "we are camped on the edge of the forest, a rag tag collection of human refugees heading away from the danger of a beastman horde to seek protection from our Lord in his city. We only wish to pass and wish you no ill will" | |||||
Maybe this was a chance he thought to himself. The small group was outnumbered and out armed so he hoped they werent aggressive. He let the others do the talking while he kept his rifle in his hand, ready in case they would have to fight them. | |||||
His eyes narrowed and he let out his breath, wondering what they wanted. His weight shifted, aware of his unwashed state and raggedy clothes, but his hands he kept away from his bow and blade | |||||
Harkrin kept a careful eye on them while he moved to the side, hand on his axe, to ensure he had a clear line for a charge at them. Much like Fyodor, he left the talking to the others. Why would anyone want to talk to elves anyway? | |||||
~~ Elders, ~~ she thought with suspicion. She had met elves in Altdorf; she had even attended elven magical demonstrations of Ghyran at the Academy. They were wise and subtle in the craft, but every time she encountered them the ... inhumanity of the creatures whispered a warning in her mind. Their motives were their own and inscrutable, even those who had acculturated themselves to Altdorf life. But these were no scholars or merchants... of these kinds she had heard: unscrupulous capricious and pitiless alien minds, born more of root and wood than mother and father. Jocelin clenched her teeth and held her tongue, but looked around at the forest surrounding them. How many times had she heard the stories of the forest itself coming alive at their beck? How many times had innocents been drawn in by their other-worldliness to their doom, while these fey demons capered covered in their victim's blood? ~~ Stories ~~ she told herself, ~~ those are stories for children and I am no child. ~~ But to issue such a challenge here in Imperial lands? As if citizens trespassed wherever tress grew? "Faithful citizens of the Imperial Monarch Karl Franz, long may he reign, need explain nothing within his demesne, but to his own deputies. You have no authority here, Elder; do you intend to align yourselves with the Chaos-spawned despoilers with whom we contend, or do you do so accidentally?" | |||||
He didn't have the social niceties to express what was on his mind but nevertheless he doubted that these mysterious creatures of the trees recognised the Emperor, let alone recognised the authority of his citizens to roam where they liked (which again was a 'perception' rather than the reality from what he could gather). He was about to say was, 'what my friend really means is...' but that felt presumptuous to say the least and truthfully he did not know what Jocelin meant sometimes. "It's true there is a great evil on the rampage, a beastherd wiping out all they see and destroying our lands. We are fleeing. We certainly mean you no ill will..." He doubted the haughty creatures would take the notice of him... This message was last edited by the player at 17:30, Sun 06 June 2021. | |||||
"as for me I am merely a messenger of the guild of messengers caught up in this situation and just wanting to head back home to my family." This message was last edited by the player at 11:36, Tue 08 June 2021. | |||||
The elves mutter something among themselves in a strange, lilting language none of you recognise. They keep firm grips on their bows, and at least one is now pointing a nocked arrow at Jocelin. OOC: I'm going to need Charm tests from Lukas and Edgar. Also can I get Conmmon Knowledge (Empire) tests from everyone? | |||||
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OOC: No common knowledge empire. :( | |||||
(OOC: Even before I rolled I thought 'best not bother' :) 07:56, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 59 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44. Common Knowledge (Empire) (int44). 07:55, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 85 -- 7 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 12. Charm Test (Fel 24 / 2).) | |||||
11:12, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 27 using 1d100. Knowledge empire target 45. 11:12, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 56 using 1d100. Charm roll target 44 | |||||
OOC: 15:48, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 46 using 1d100. CK: Empire, target 41. | |||||
edgar gave the elves a side long glance for a moment before speaking again " I see you have travelled far on whatever quest your queen has sent you on as the forest of Laurelorn is far from here in Nordland. I once delivered a message from my lord to your Queen, I have to admit it is the first and last time I ever failed to deliver the message directly but then the humble likes of me are not meant to lay eyes on your gracious royalty." he added with a slight bow "Like you we are passing through these parts and just wish to be on our way. We will not hinder you if you allow us to be on our way with granny and her herbs here" | |||||
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"We shall let you pass... but we shall be watching." He looks imperiously at the group at then at Granny before raising a hand in signal. As one the elves step back into the shadows of the trees, eerily silent and almost seem to melt away. For a moment all is quiet until Granny Moescher sags with relief, wiping her brow with one hand even as the other still clutches the herbs and weeds she had gathered. "Thank you my dearies. I thought the the thorn-ears would have had me there." | |||||
"That was a relief," he whispered, although he was sure that if the woodmen could see them then they could probably still hear him too, whisper or not. "I've only ever heard of their kind before, they are terrifying aren't they?" he carried on to the others nearby who perhaps had not shared his awe. He bravely took a step forward and knelt close to Granny Moescher who was still close to the herbs on the ground "Granny, what are you doing out here alone? You could have got hurt. You could have asked for one of us to accompany you. Someone you trust." He knew it was pointless. Granny did her own thing and so did he. Schiller thought they were both mad living outside the town but he knew Granny needed her space. "Let's get back to the camp, we've had enough scares for now" he still whispered, only now beginning to feel self conscious about it. | |||||
The mention of the queen had been a gamble but one that seemed to have paid off though looking into the trees he could see with his night eyes shadows upon shadows and knew they were still being watched. He turned to Lukas " It agree with your counsel it would be folly to tally here any longer" he replied with a weak smile. Nodding to the others he turned to head back to the camp | |||||
He face softened and looked at Kohl. "Are you sure Ghyran and ... Ghur..." the second Wind she pronounced with some emphasis, "weren't working themselves through us for Granny Moescher's benefit? She was protected, I'm sure, as she sought to protect those in her care. But yes, let us return." | |||||
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With one last glance at the spot previously occupied by the elves, Harkrin grumbled something and followed his companions back to the camp. | |||||
"Number one elves. Not friedly. Forrest them?" he asked in his accented Reikspeil. | |||||
OOC: I think you're trying to write in dialect, but since I don't quite get what you mean, Jocelin will play along, too. :-) | |||||
"Da. Forrest theirs? Da." OOC: Yep. My Slavic language knowledge is limited so making him hard to understand in a different way :) | |||||
"Yes, they are wise in their craft," she begrudgingly admitted, "but there is a reason their race spawned the Despoiler*. Pure hedonism and arrogance brung them low, and how easily they drip that poison from honeyed words." She shook her head and the pleasant face returned. "No, Fyodor, this forest belongs to His Imperial Majesty. And I'm happy Kislev remains innocent of much contact with the Elders. May it ever be so." OOC: *Canonically are the Elves responsible for creating Slannesh in WHFRP the same way they are in 40K, or would this be a tenuous accusation on the part of J? | |||||
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" we should count ourselves lucky to them we were defiling the land..... Whether you humans agree with it or not they still see themselves as the guardians of nature..... And I honestly believe without them the world would be a less wondrous place" | |||||
She held to herself the thought, ~~ One susceptible to the Defiler — or caught in his vile grip — would speak of the Sundering of the Eldest and the blight they brought upon the world as ‘guarding nature’. For his own soul’s sake, I hope he is merely obstinately ignorant in this, as he is in other matters. ~~ | |||||
" those that bent the knee were taken in as the conquered those that didn't were segregated of destroyed. " " the elves, dwarves and halflings even were invaded.... Don't get me wrong I'm not against the empire I'm just stating what happened.... Acts that are written down as fact..... But I can also see it from the other side of the coin and can see why the elves have issues with the empire.... And whatever you say and I'm not saying you are right or wrong but to them the land still belongs to them and they still protect it as they see fit" | |||||
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He shook his head and sighed..." next time we encounter such people I will hold my tongue and allow you to get us out of a deadly situation...." This message was lightly edited by the player at 18:26, Sat 26 June 2021. | |||||
He walked back to the camp silently staying close to the others for he knew his eyes were not as strong and his footsteps unsteady in the gloom. One day he imagined he would be in an inn laughing about a joke about 'the halfling and the wizard' but what started off as an interesting history lesson about things he could barely follow quickly turned into bickering and a perception that the two had been chewing Weirdroot. There was a part of him that sought to placate them and soothe their tempers but at the same time he felt that he really wasn't informed enough about history or elves or anything else they were on about so just kept his eyes and ears on the way back to camp. "Tea. That's what we need. A little fire, a boiling pot and some tea," said Lukas hopefully when they got closer to the camp. Tea didn't settle arguments but he'd feel a lot safer watching Edgar and Jocelin debate Elvish land rights with something warm in his hands surrounded by a fire and the people of Untergard. The forest was his home of course, but recent encounters had certainly unnerved him of what lay beyond his eyesight. | |||||
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"You know, I've lived in these parts a long time and never seen elves and never seen beastmen until recently. Times are a changing, the world isn't what it used to be. There have always been tales of course, of old veterans passing through and those to scare children to sleep, but I've never seen so much disturbance and trouble before. Don't think things will ever be the same again.... he said as they go closer to the camp, but privately already looking forward to the tea. | |||||
"Da, hot tea. " By now they had walked a good distance from the elf encounter so he let himself relax a little more and was looking forward to some hot tea with a little kvas in it. | |||||
He moved over to Jocelin "Mistress Herzog I would be honoured if you would sip tea at my fire on this cold night, we might have differing opinions but we are still one group and it is best to warm oneself with friends than on ones own." With that the little halfling moved off quickly to his camp fire and set about laying out herbs and honey, boiling water and adding a little of this and a little of that tasting as he did so until he was satisfied it was the right temperature, correctly spiced and sweet to the pallet but not overly so | |||||
The buzz in the camp gradually settled down as people began to turn in for the evening. It looked like being a clear crisp night for once and there was reassuring sense of normal 'life' from the woods around you as furry moths danced around the campfires and an owl hooted in the distance. OOC: If anyone has any NPCs they want to talk to or other plans for the night suggest them, otherwise we can skip to the morning. | |||||
After he methodically marked every other tree, he put away his chisel and went to bed. The night was eventful enough for everyone and they next day would most likely be very similar. | |||||
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“What brings you this far south, friend?”, he asked softly This message was last edited by the player at 18:06, Fri 02 July 2021. | |||||
"Fought big battle. Orcs, Shamans, Spiders house size." he waved his arms above his head to indicate this was no normal spider. "Slaughter. Lightning killed many. All. Almost." he fell quiet and stared into the fire for a few seconds before continuing. "Me search and find Green Light. Go back and win war." he took a big swig of his kvas and passed the skin again. "You?" | |||||
She paused a moment before leaving, "Another time?" she asked with customary cheer. The wizard accompanied Granny to her wagon and asked after her needs, making small talk and generally keeping the conversation away from elves or the Winds, and complimenting Luciana on handling the children. "Do you have any children of your own? Nieces or nephews?" Some time later, when she had a moment of relative privacy, she said quietly to Moescher, "This is a vibrant land, and the winds are active here. Ghyran celebrates life, though also present are streaks of Ghur..." she let the question hang for Granny's response. | |||||
Laughing bitterly, Pieter took a swig and winced, whether from the strength of the kvas or the image painted for him by the Kislevite, "Big battle, eh. That'd do it" He leant forward, closer to the campfire, "Too many folks wanting to speak to me in Ostermark, or the woods when I had ... made my home. Taxmen, my brother, the Count's men. Pah" Sighing, he passed the kvas back to the patriot: his opposite is many ways, but just a man in the woods in the dark too | |||||
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He thought back to the regiment and his fellow soldiers and friends who also would be sitting and laughing around a campfire. Those people were gone now. He took another swig of Kvas. "Why your brother angry? You sleep with his wife?" | |||||
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he'd been taught by his mam not to disturb people in conversation so once everyone had been served he took the last mug and settled down nearby his back to a tree. cradling his hot mug he closed his eyes and let the noise of his friends and the forest behind him wash over him for awhile | |||||
Lukas, lost in his own thoughts is brought back to reality by the aroma of Edgar's honey'd tea, which seems a tantalising luxury after a day spent walking through the woods and a near death experience before that. Having left his warnings on the oaks around them Klinka settled down to sleep. The dwarf could hear the rustle of conversations going on around him, but the noise level fell away as one by one the refuges began to turn in for the night. He did catch a tired sounding Captain Schiller call for volunteers for the night watch. Over by Granny's wagon Jocelin finds herself talking to Luciana, who greets her with a Tilean kiss to the cheek. The beautiful Tilean woman already looks frazzled (if still beautiful) but laughs and smiles at Jocelin's question. "None of my own own, but sì I have nephews and nieces back in Miragliano. Probably getting into trouble even as I speak." Bidding adieu, she heads off to join Gunther by his camp fire, the cut of her dress drawing more than one appreciative look from the men in the camp. The wizardess finds herself speaking to Granny next. The old woman - and looking at her lined face Jocelin suddenly realises she has no idea how old she is - looks uncomfortable for a long moment, then sags a little and lets out a sigh that sounds like it had been hiding in her throat for years. "I may know a little magic dearie," she allows, her small but surprisingly sharp green eyes seeming to look into Jocelin's mind. | |||||
At the sound of Captain Schiller asking for volunteers for the watch, he did of course let him know he would do his part before returning back to the campfire settling near Pieter and Gunther. He couldn't read so he didn't really know how long it would take to read a book or how it could retain interest for so long. Turning to the rest of the group, he asked, "how long do you think it will take us to get to Middenheim?" | |||||
Personally, the dwarf was surprised they made it that far without any serious accident, not to mention an attack by the beastmen or bandits. Perhaps they were lucky enough to get through unnoticed. Or the group was large enough to make anyone think twice before attacking them. | |||||
Glancing up when Lukas approached, they spoke a few words | |||||
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Offering to help Granny prepare the redwort, she continued in a chatty way. "I'm sure the need for herbs and roots to provide for your charges is something even the squarest-jawed soldier could understand; did the Captain forbid you from leaving? Ugh, men!" | |||||
He took a swig of his kvas and tried it again. Still no go. Finally he shrugged and passed the kvas to the outlaw. "Brother want kill you?" | |||||
He smiled tightly as Fyodor offered another swig at the kvas, nodding more vehemently, "Kill? Maybe. Turn me to the Graf, for certain, though it might mean the Graf is the one who would kill me. He would not shed a tear" | |||||
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The rest of the camp is settling down to sleep. There isn't much shelter but fortunately the weather has held off it's fury and the stars and moons wheel overhead, framed by the dark branches of the trees around you. As Fyodor idly cleans his weapons a couple of watchmen approach - and one watchwoman, the tall, flaxen haired Hilde who the Kiselvarian remembers fought against the mutants back at the bridge. It is Hilde who speaks up: "Fancy a dice game northman? Keep our mind off the cold?" One of her companions, a gangly youth in an ill fitting uniform Fyodor thinks is called Joachim nods and whispers: "We'd ask the dwarf but you know..." He stops there, partially because Hilde has just smacked him across the back of his head wither hand (producing what sounds to Fyodor like a pretty hollow sound) and partly because he has realised that Harkrin is sitting not ten feet away, well within in earshot. Lukas and Pieter find themselves in quiet conversation with his earlier companions. | |||||
Saying his good nights to his friends he took his blanket and rolled over onto his side. the sound of the woodland lulled him into sleep and it wasn't long before those close by could hear the gentle and steady sound of a halfling snoring. | |||||
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"Game? Noble's dice?" he asked. OOC: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liar%27s_dice | |||||
Jocelin chattered on as she rendered the redwort, trying to put Granny at ease and pass the time. | |||||
Nearby Lukas is drowsy but still awake, the gentle sound of snoring and a few lonely whispers of the awake reaching him. The charcoal burner may not exactly have volunteered to help keep watch but he has been left in the position anyway. Near the edge of the camp quite the dice game was heating up. No one had much free coin but the excitement of rolling the bones was a lure in an of itself. Fyodor found the rules a little different from the games he knew in Erengrad but quickly picks up the pace. Gambling is gambling he reflects as the small group passes around a bottle of wine. OOC: Fyodor decide how much you are betting, then roll Gambling. Over in Granny Moescher's cart the old woman serves Jocelin a mug of herbal tea - hot, a little bitter but not unpleasant. It is cramped for the two women to sit but they find room. "I got my training from Ole Dieter," Granny says. "Long time before you were born. Not like your city ways." She looks at you over the cup, her wrinkled face a picture of concern. "Now you won't say anything more to the others will you? They'd be having all sorts of notions about magic." | |||||
“Oh dear Granny, there’s none I could tell within a fortnight who would be able to do anything useful with that information, and truly the only useful thing would be to make sure your practices aren’t inadvertently exposing yourself to … foul winds. More likely a word would reach the ears of an Inquisitor — like as not one who couldn’t tell the difference between Ghur and Gawain! Certainly not the captain: brave and faithful he may be, but men have this way of just ruining things, don’t you think? Tsk. They’re so often like bull-terriers: no care for what they damage so long as they get their mark.” There was a slight pause as she sipped her tea. “Delicious — the bitterness wakes you up! No, besides, a practitioner as experienced as yourself is rarely the worry. It’s the young and careless that ruin themselves and others through their carelessness. And once that door is opened…” she paused “… but of course you know I can’t say nothing. It’s simply a matter of saying the right thing at the right time. The General Amnesty may have expired, but the Colleges have their own means of shepherding the self-taught.” Jocelin looked earnestly at Moescher. “I do hope you understand my position? … Perhaps if you told me of Ole Dieter, mayhaps he had a happy connection to a College to your favor?” “But first would you give me your impression? … as I said the young and careless are the worry. Luciana, sweet thing she is, does seem very touched by Ulgu. Whether potential or through use, I don’t know… but foreign ways of training aren’t the Empire’s ways. Pity, don’t you think?” | |||||
OOC: 14:03, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 28 using 1d100. Gambling - 27. | |||||
Above the murmurs of games of dice and whispered conversation he noticed the community bonds that formed after the attack were moulding and forming here on the march. Family groups where one lost a parent or sibling were sleeping closer together, Granny's orphans were part of the camp, belonging to all of them (even though Granny did most of the work looking after them. Recently, he'd been thinking about what he had lost but sat amongst the townsfolk he was trying to remember what he gained. Lukas fought back the need to rest and watched the road and the trees around them, looking for any sign of nighttime attackers, keeping his axe handy and trying his best to listen keenly. | |||||
The ancient woman held up her right hand with her ring finger and middle finger crossed. Even Jocelin with her very respectable middle class upbringing could tell the sign of the trickster god Ranald. Granny Moescher leaned back on her seat, causing an alarming creak. The young wizardness couldn't tell if it was the woman or the wood. "It's not for me to give on Ole Dieter's ways, 'specially to a smart city gel like yourself. He knew about the beasts in the field and the woods and the patterns the make. I suppose by your way of reckoning we'd be Amber Wizards; though he had no truck with the colleges and kept it hidden well enough and me after until you stuck your pretty nose in." The last is said not with anger but more wistfulness, maybe even a flicker of respect. | |||||
Harkrin lay on his back with his cropped head up against his pack, snoring with such strength and vigour it seemed he was on a one-dwarf mission to inhale the sky. In contrast Edgar was nestled quietly by the sleeping Nibbles the donkey. The halfling turned in his sleep, mumbling something about pies. Lukas was fully awake, propped up against against his own to stop him dozing off. He was far enough from Harkrin's olympian snoring to listen to the sounds of the forest - the hooting of owls and scurry of small furry things in the undergrowth. The road they had came stretched deep into the darkness and he knew that somewhere down there lay the abandoned Untergard. He couldn't help but wonder if any of the party would see it again. Over by the fire there was a different pattern of sounds - the rattle of dice and the soft cursing of the losers. Fyodor was soon in the possession of the winnings, an extra bottle of ale and 8 brass pfennigs. Hilde sighs and gives the Kislevarian a rueful smile. "Good game. So what are you going to do when we reach Middenheim northman?" | |||||
Wiping the beer from his beard he shrugged "No plans. Look for work. Search for Light of Green. You?" | |||||
As the camp came alive and his friends woke he was there with a plate of simple but filling beef stew and another cup of sweet honey tea. | |||||
Finishing his last carving (telling everyone about the cursed elves murdering children and skinning their parents alive), he wiped his chisel clean, checked his axe and decided to rest. "Wake me up if you need someone more competent." he grumbled towards the group gathered around the fire. He didn't know much about the outsiders, but the Northman seemed all right. A few minutes later he was already snoring. | |||||
She took another sip of the tea. Jocelin liked Moescher, and was happy to understand why the old woman had initially been so cold towards her: the Colleges, and the Inquisition in particular, have given them plenty of cause over the years. But amnesty after amnesty have shown that the Colleges had a pastoral mission. Granny shouldn't be arrested, by Sigmar not at all; but she should walk into the Hall of Archives and enlist of her own volition. But how... "I'm sorry to have been a source of concern for you, Granny, and I'm happy we can be open with each other." She paused. "I would like you to teach me. Not Old Dieter's ways, I mean, but... well, I've seen how herbs can be useful in the mundane." Jocelin held up her cup of tea as example. "But as you say I'm a city girl and if you asked me where I'd find gooseneck loosestrife, I could only tell you, 'the apothecary's'. While I'm studying in the field, I may as well learn what's in the fields! "Would you, do you think? It would mean so much to me." | |||||
Granny Moescher proved a kindly host to Jocelin but the old woman was evasive about the Colleges of Magic and clearly had a will of iron so refused to yield to any clever talk. Eventually the two women retired for the night. Fyodor found his new gambling buddies full of small talk but uncertain about their future. Clearly they were trying not to think about what would happen once they reached Middenheim - if they reached Middenheim. Edgar and Harkrin actually enjoyed a decent night of sleep. The halfling was experienced in the wilds and the dwarf had found the ability to sleep anywhere after his time as a convict. Lukas fell asleep at some point and experienced strange and vivid dreams. Luciana the Tilean made an interesting guest appearance in one of them... And Pieter Marik looked like he'd been lucky to get an hour's worth of shuteye - stumbling back into camp nearer dawn than midnight and collapsing into a troubled sleep by a cold fire. Everyone wakes to the promise of a quick breakfast and the long road ahead. Captain Schiller's commanding voice is already calling for volunteers for guard duty along this next stage of the march... | |||||
A night under the stars never really bothered him but his dreams had been fraught with visions and when he woke he wondered if his decisions had been the right ones. When he woke and the camp stirred to set off on their long walk to the City of the White Wolf he noticed the dishevelled state of Pieter. "Troubled dreams too my friend?" he asked with a smile. This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Thu 18 Nov 2021. | |||||
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"Nightmares", he affirmed, fighting off a yawn, one hand unconsciously checking the blade strapped to his side and the shield nearby "Nightmares that mean the others won't be returning", he added more softly, meant not to be overhead but perhaps too tired to ensure it "They're gone" | |||||
He eyed the bundle, protectively held by Pieter but knew better to ask. "Come with us to Middenheim. It will be safer and a place for a new start." With half a small town waking up, the less said the better. | |||||
His eyes noted where Lukas' had drifted and he sighed a little to himself, but he took the distraction the other had offered, "Aye, Middenheim. Perhaps it is big enough for a new start..." With that, he yawned and stretched, stood. He had few possessions and gathered them swiftly, finally sling the three or four foot blade on his back, between his quiver and sling bag. | |||||
At the centre of it is the reassuringly grizzled form of Captain Schiller. As Fyodor is approaching the watch leader is assigning orders to his men (or woman in the case of Hilde.) He looks up and greets the Kislevarian with a nod: "Ah Fyodoreski, good to see you. Hilde and Leopold will be scouting ahead so I want so with good eyes guarding our tail. I don't think we're being followed but I don't want to take the risk." The old warhorse actually seems to be in good humour today - as do many others. There is a ripple amongst the people of Untergard that the halfway point has been passed. | |||||
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Bundling the bed rolls and blankets together he caught a hint of Luciana's as he gathered them in his arms. He felt sad that he would see her no more, nor hear her voice as she seemingly got to know everyone around her. He would distribute the blankets as soon as he could, he desired them no more than Pieter did. Falling into step with Pieter he spoke quietly, "Was the book false? The legend untrue?" "Was that blade the only riches you found?" It may have been rude to ask, but it didn't seem it mattered anymore. | |||||
He swallowed, sweat beading his brow, "She rose. She tore into them... I... I fled" This message was last edited by the player at 20:01, Sat 20 Nov 2021. | |||||
"It cannot be!" he said incredulously, "She's been dead for hundreds of years...." Lukas, was at least relived that his moral compass had pointed to his loyalty to the people of Untergard and not the riches suggested by Gunther, but even so, it sounded like a horrific experience (and everyone knew about those). "Is the sword hers? The Queen's I mean?" | |||||
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"Pieter sick? Kvas cure." the large man said and hoisted his kvas skin out of his backpack and handed it to Pieter. | |||||
"So, another day smelling the dust and horse shit at the back?" he asked Fyodor "How far to that damn city?" | |||||
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"Two!" he says holding up two fingers. "Cure all." | |||||
After freshening up for some time, aided by some fragrant herbs Granny Moescher had been willing to part with in their otherwise unproductive conversation the night before. At least, she thought, they understood one another better. Dressed properly for the day's journey, the wizard approached the men preparing to journey with a greeting. When she saw the pendant pass between Pieter and Lukas she said, "Ha. I didn't think Luciana was the careless type. Where did she drop it?" | |||||
Shaking his head at a second slug of the kvas, Pieter handed the flask back, muttering to the Norscan something about keeping some pains to remind oneself. He was still pale, his expression somber as he offered an explanation, "She and Gunther went to work for Morr in the night. Perhaps if she had remembered this it might have turned out better" With the gathering crowd, his eyes began to become more hooded and wary | |||||
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“W-w-when? Where? … Why?!” OOC: IC Jocelin is curious. OOC so am I. Telling a terse story to J is fine RP, but DM would you fill me in on what’s been happening in another thread since September? | |||||
"Dead?" he asked perplexed. | |||||
"We came chasing after stories", he began, "Luciana and Gunther and I. Stories about ... about a Bandit Queen who fled to these parts... So we snuck out last night... And ... well, we found her and her tomb" He shifted uncomfortably, "By whatever fell means, she wasn't ... She ... She ... rose, and killed them both. And I ran, for my life" | |||||
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After meeting blank looks, and realising that dwarves, Northmen and people from the big cities may not always know the legends of a place he filled in a few gaps. "Why do you think so many people are afraid of the Drakwald? Before the Beastmen there was something far more terrible. The Queen of the Drakwald ruled these parts with her men. She'd rob any one, whether peddlar or merchant. Half the stories about monsters in the Drakwald stem from her reign, and her infamy changing tale to tale. She'd never been captured, but legend has it one day her banditry just stopped. Some say she died of old age, some that she retired to a Convent of Shallya and repented her sins and distributed her wealth. Others say she turned to dark powers and there are many other variations of this..." Lukas could have told the group to ask anyone from Untergard about Elke Kleiber and everyone would tell the truth but there would be fifty or more different stories. "Sounds like she's not dead anymore...not really..." Lukas shivered at the thought of the Bandit Queen rising from the dead and reinstating her reign - as if they didn't have enough problems... | |||||
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At Fyodor’s suggestion she nodded, but said, “There are some in Middenheim who can help; we should seek them first.” | |||||
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He sighed, taking a moment to meet everyone's eye, "When I fled her, the corpse-wight that once might have been Elke, I had this in my hand. It seems unsafe to throw it away, and so I will carry it. I claim it, through the blood of my-" and he struggled for a moment "-my friends. But I will forge my own path if you think its presence, or mine, endangers these folk. Regardless, it seems I must aim for Middenheim and I would prefer to do so in the company of ... friends" "As for taking care of her", he continued, softer and fearful, "She ripped through Luciana and Gunther in a moment; I was paralyzed with fear and fled... and I am a man who has lived on the outskirts of the Empire's rule fearlessly for many years" Whilst he did not say the word 'outlaw', his own past was clear, at that moment. | |||||
He pointed at the blade "Bandit queen blade? You go to woods to look for that?" | |||||
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Jocelin’s hand again rested on Pieter’s shoulder. “Bear this sword in their name and memory. It is free of taint, and imbued by interwoven strands with powers I can’t clearly read.” She laughed. “It was foolishness how you came by it, Pieter, but a lucky fool you are, I guess.” | |||||
It was the unlikeliest of circumstances that they'd come together but whilst there was safety in numbers there was also camaraderie and support in a group of others. He cared little for their histories or their past - what mattered was the future. All that aside, he was still glad when Jocelin seemed to intimate that the sword wasn't cursed. He just hoped Elke didn't want it back... | |||||
He wrapped and sling the long sword once more, using the act to regain some of his personal space, “For now, let us move with the camp, before they leave us behind” | |||||
It was true humans were foolish and reckless, but the loss of two good fighters was always a loss, regardless of their other qualities. Hopefully Pieter would learn something from his experience and put that sword into some good use - cutting down elves and greenskins alike. | |||||
Jocelin notices that Granny Moescher occasionally shoots glances in her direction. The old woman had been cagey the night before, but now there was something thoughtful in the manner she regarded the young wizardess. She looked like she was thinking something through even if she doesn't approach. Edgar clambers aboard Nibbles. The pony seems content, having been snuck carrots by some of the children in the morning. Fyodor Fyodoreski keeps an easy vigil at the rear of the convoy. The Kislevite keeps his eyes trained on the long road back in case any band of beastmen and mutants had started following them. Pieter, Lukas and Harkrin find themselves in the middle of the mass of refugees, mingling with the locals. The surly dwarf has few friends among the 'civilians' and Pieter from Ostermark (a place as exotic as Lustria to most of the survivors) fairs little better but Lukas has an easier time surrounded by his neighbours. The forest is dark and oppressive, but quiet, like a calm before a storm. Midafternoon the scouts return to the caravan with grim tidings. At a crossroads up ahead there is the remains of an ambush and the road is choked with bodies. The corpses and wreckage will have to be cleared before the caravan can continue on its way. Captain Schiller calls a halt: "Right, I want a group of able men and women ahead to clear the blockage. Any volunteers?" The old soldier's shrewd gaze seems to alight on each of you. Clearly he wants people who can fight in case there is more to this than just moving dead bodies This message was last edited by the GM at 00:33, Sun 28 Nov 2021. | |||||
With a glance to Lukas and Hakrin, he steps forward, a single nod before he winds past the man. No words are needed for this task, not when his courage is in need of shoring up. He knows he must face the dead once more, but perhaps these will stay where they lie until he lays them to rest | |||||
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"Probably want to take it slow around here and keep our eyes and ears about us," he said. He didn't particularly fancy falling off a bridge again and he was still very wary about what happened the last time he had met mutants in battle. The road was definitely the safest place to be in times like these but it didn't really mean anything in the big scheme of things. (OOC: How close are we to the crossroads? From our place in the group can we easily see what has happened or what the damage looks like? Once they get nearer to the site Lukas will be walking cautiously, looking and listening for any signs of an ambush.) | |||||
With those words he readies his arquebus and climbs one of the carts for a better view of the surroundings. | |||||
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The matter-of-fact cheery tone of her voice contrasted with the cannibalistic subject matter. | |||||
OOC: Is there anything indicating that the ambush was the work of beastmen rather than human bandits? | |||||
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Klinka, Jocelin, Pieter and Lukas all find themselves walking along a truly gruesome sight. On the road there are two wrecked wagons and fifteen mutilated corpses. There are no survivors and several of the other men who have come up to move the wreckage look grey faced, even given their experiences of war. OOC: Everyone make an Easy (+20%) Willpower test or take an Insanity Point. You've seen a lot of hardship but this is still a shock. Remember you can re-roll with a Fortune Point if needed. Father Dietrich comes to bless the slain and Granny Moescher comes in case there are any survivors, though the old woman's shrewd gaze soon tells her those talents might not be needed. OOC: Can I get Search and Common Knowledge (Empire) rolls please. Even if you fail you can still search among the bodies and try and make a guess at what happened! | |||||
OOC:11:54, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 7 using 1d100. Willpower 47. | |||||
13:01, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 99 using 1d100. Search (Int 30). Klinka approached the blockade, but even the experience in the mines did not prepare him for this sight. Wincing, he took a few steps back and concentrated instead on scanning the surroundings, his hands visibly shaking as he continued to play with his axe. | |||||
She’d heard about defilement, but seeing so much of it up close… She softly wept as she walked. OOC: 07:41, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 76 using 1d100. WP <54 FORTUNE POINT. 07:39, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 55 using 1d100. Common Knowledge <42. 07:39, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 55 using 1d100. Search <42. 07:39, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 85 using 1d100. WP <54. Good grief. | |||||
He moved to the nearest body, endeavouring to move them to the tree line. It would be the least they could do to bury them all but he was mindful that time was a resource they did not have. He was clear though, the bodies needed to be our of sight before the coaches could be moved. Even so, as he worked at his grim task he kept his eyes and ears open for any surprise attack. (OOC: 13:29, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 59 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 46. Against WP 26 + 20%. Failed Test so rerolled using Fortune Point 13:30, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 12 -- 3 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 46. Against WP 26 + 20% Reroll, use Fortune Point. 13:31, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 1 -- 4 degrees of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44. Search (Int 44). 13:31, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 41 -- a simple success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44. Common Knowledge (Int 44).) | |||||
He stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his blade as he scanned the surrounds and then the heaped bodies 13:55, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 54 using 1d100. Common Knowledge (Empire). 13:55, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 13 using 1d100. Search. 13:54, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 14 using 1d100. Willpower (Easy) vs 48 | |||||
One of the wagons has an emblem painted on it. It looks like a set of scales, with scrollwork underneath that Jocelin can read. It says “Delberz”. None of you have been to Delbrez but Lukas knows the mark as that of the merchant's guild of Delbrez, a trading town to the west of Untergard. Between them the group finds evidence that the ambushers were neither beastmen nor bandits. The mud of the trail is churned up with small bootprints and though there is an unpleasant scent in the air it is not the heavy musk of the children of Chaos. Most of the travellers died of arrow wounds. Crude, blackfletched arrows stud the corpses. Turning one over in his hand Lukas recognises them as goblin arrows. The victims have been comprehensively robbed but a determined search yields up one dented but usable shield and a quiver with 10 crossbow bolts. | |||||
She looks to the ground and shakes her head. “My father died there. Graf Sternhauer’s soldiers killed him. He was a good man. He was an innocent man. All he did was hide some food from the Bailiff. He didn’t want us to starve in the wintertime. They burned him to make an example for the rest of the village. Damn nobles. As if this life wasn’t hard enough without their boot heels upon our throats.” This message was last edited by the player at 22:32, Sun 05 Dec 2021. | |||||
He shuddered visibly and tightens the grip on his berdysh. "We bury or burn?" he asks to no one in particular and points at one of the corpses. | |||||
"Burn them and move on", he suggested to Fyodor, though his eyes darted to where Captain Schiller and the rest of the refugees waited - other than Granny Moescher who seemed to be a law unto herself, of course. "Burn them and move on", he repeated softly, "We don't want them coming back, nor the Captain asking us to hunt down the tykes who did this" He made no move to act, however, eyes still scanning the woods. | |||||
Lukas wasn't a hero and wasn't a fighter but could they really leave the village to the fate of the Goblinoid menace? Beastmen and Mutants behind them, dead Queens rising, Elves in the Drakwald and now goblins destroying villages and attacking the roads. The Drakwald had suddenly become a very dangerous place. | |||||
After Lukas’ suggestion she said quietly to Granny, “Lukas is right… we could help your people, maybe…?” | |||||
"Need oil." he says to the wind witch as he drags a corpse past Jocelin | |||||
Granny looks surprised, hesitates for a moment then shakes her head. "That was a long time ago dearies. None left in Fahndorf since before your papa was bouncing on his papa's knee. We moved on, ev'n if we ain't forgot the Sternhaeurs." Even as she says it the old woman looks down the overgrown trail leading the abondened village, almost unconsciously wringing her spotted but strong hands. | |||||
Father Dietrich blesses each body. The priest looks very tired, yet determined to his duty as he recants the death recital to allow the dead safe journey to Morr's realm. Really it should be the task of a priest of Morr but there are none here so he does his best. Without warning, you hear the Priest shout out in alarm and then he disappears from view while walking along the right side of the road. The group hears a loud thump and a cry of pain. | |||||
This message was last edited by the player at 15:12, Wed 08 Dec 2021. | |||||
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Lukas' first thought was that the Father had fallen into a hall but the 'thud' sound worried him more. "Was that an arrow?" Lukas hissed as he scurried to find cover behind one of the coaches still, not quite out of the road. He listened keenly from his place of relative safety before assessing how close he is to getting to the good Father and pulling him to safety. | |||||
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The Untergarders, it turns out, picked a spot near a large fallen log to lay out the corpses. It was from here that the Goblins launched their attack. A quick glance reveals many small holes in the ground behind the log, made by the arrows the Goblin archers stuck there in preparation for the ambush. The Goblins also dug a pit in front of their position and covered it with brush. As Father Dietrich knelt down next to a corpse, he fell into the pit and was impaled on the sharpened stakes below. All of you have become familiar with death by now and it is clear you are seeing it again. Wooden spikes jut horribly through Father Dietrich's cassock and though he breathes still his face is a rictus of fear, his breath gasping and gurgling by turns in pain. The Priest is mortally wounded. Father Dietrich opens his mouth, trying to say something, but already his voice is weakening. "The villagers... get the villagers to safety..." | |||||
Quickly as he could he grabbed a rope off the wagon and made his way back while wrapping one end round his waist and tying it tight. "here some of you men grab the end and lower me down. It will do the priest much good but he deserves someone at his side as he passes over then once at rest we can get him out and give him a proper burial..... After all he has helped these poor souls around us depart it's the least we can do" With that the little halfling readied himself to be lowered into the pit | |||||
He looked to the others for a moment, then back at the halfling to judge his girth and see if another might be needed. If they were, and when he was ready, he began to lower | |||||
Grabbing his weapon he moved towards the forest edge to take a peek and make a round to be sure. | |||||
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"We better stay away from the edge of the forest. Grungni knows what other traps may be laying around." OOC: Are there any goblin corpses around? | |||||
"You never know...." he said quietly to Pieter, "they may be small, but have you seen how much he eats? Best have two of us on that rope to get him down safely." The joke was perhaps unnecessary, but it did at least serve as a momentary distraction from the wails of the dying priest. "How's he going to get the good Father off them spikes and out of the pit without impaling himself?" Lukas asked, worried that if Edgar wasn't careful there would be two of them punctured and bleeding to death.... It was then that Lukas saw the Northman surveying the edge of the forest and the Dwarf seemingly excited to go off chasing after goblins."If you're going to go tearing off, grab a pole or a stick or something and test the ground as you walk. It took a lot of effort to dig this and only a spiteful bastard would do it. That makes me think there are more around here." It did raise another question in Lukas' mind. If the road was trapped, their progress would be slower until they were sure they were a long way from this scene of carnage. | |||||
Being smaller than his friends he slowly moved towards the priest. When he got level he gently put his fingers to the man's neck to see if anything could be done or if the man of god had already go to seek his maker. | |||||
He sighed, straining with the effort, thinking of the knives the priestesses carried, "Perhaps he even has his own ... mercy" | |||||
He has something clenched tightly in his fist. With obvious effort and pain the priest speaks: “I die with a relic of Blessed Sigmar clenched in my hand. For that at least, I can be thankful. But do not leave this holy icon in this wretched place. Take it from here and deliver it to the Temple of Sigmar in Middenheim. Swear to me that you will do this!” | |||||
"I swear, uh, we swear it will be done," she said, but kept her hands in her lap, wringing them in nervous energy. | |||||
"We'll see it gets there Father," agreed Lukas nodding with the wizard. "You rest easy now and know you have lived a good life." Lukas brought his waterskin to the lips of the priest, it was the least they could do for him right now. | |||||
Nonetheless, he offered a simple prayer for the dead, half-recalled from before he had been made an outcast, "Harken for his name, for it will echo whilst we speak it" | |||||
Edgar knelt next to the dying priest and held his hand gently. " My friend I will do as you ask but keep it for a little longer, it will give you peace knowing you held it when you go to meet your god." A tear ran down the halfling's cheek. " I will will sit here with you my friend so you are not alone. We do not need to speak now close your eyes and be at peace and think of the moment you are in your god's presence and he welcomes you with open arms for all the good and righteous things you have done in your amazing live." With that he sat silently as the priest took his last breath. Gently he removed the object from the mans hand and placed it on one of his pouches before pulling the priest's cloak over the dead man's body. With a sigh he wiped away his grieve and carefully made his way back to the side of the pit. " he has gone" he managed to say before the rope went taught and he started to climb back out to the others | |||||
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As Edgar climbs out of the pit he is able to see that Father Dietrich’s relic is a small icon, about four inches square, encased in gold and iron. It is obviously ancient but its true value is not immediately apparent. The Untergarders present are weeping now and Granny Moescher - red eyed herself - steps in to take command of the civilians. "We'll have to bury him here. Don't worry I know the right prayers and ways. Ive seen enough in my long years." | |||||
They weren't blessed with a lot of time, with the beastherd at their back but the thought of the good Father's corpse being eaten by mutated filth filled him with despair. "We need to be quick Granny. Can you say the prayers for him now, so his soul can rest. I'll find a spade or two and we can get digging quickly." | |||||
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Lukas wasn't overly happy with the suggestion, but time was of the essence. | |||||
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None of you can find any evidence of goblins that isn't hours old. Evidently the green complexioned bandits have fled the area, likely bringing any dead they had with them. When informed of the grim events at the crossroad Captain Schiller frowns and strokes his mustache. "A bad business and I'll miss the man for all I favour Ulric. Still we should press on along the road - if we dwell here it will only demoralise the people further." | |||||
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OOC: Sorry... there's not much more I was looking to do in this scene; I should have made an "agreed, let's go" post earlier. | |||||
None of you have been through Immelscheld though Captain Schiller informs you that it is the last town before Middenheim herself. In fact earlier in the day Pieter is willing to swear he caught sight of the distant Ulricsberg itself in a gap in the treeline. So far yet so near. Immelscheld is little more than a burnt out ruin but it was clearly once a significant village or small town and as the Untergarders settle down for the evening the more keen eyed of you notice frightened, obviously human faces looking at you from behind tumbled walls and through the empty widows of gutted houses. "There are survivors in there," Captain Schiller muses, stroking his iron grey mustache. The old soldier smiles ruefully. "Civilians unless I'm very wrong. In their place I'd be scared of a column of strangers too but they'll be much safer with us. Besides there might still be supplies there. I want volunteers for a party to enter the town, persuade any survivors to come with us to Middenheim and see if they have any food or water." | |||||
They were just people after all, and people could be stubborn where 'home' was concerned. Lukas just hoped they were peaceful and not consumed by madness or some other affliction he had heard tale of. He remembered his father telling him stories of places like this growing up, places where the residents of a village where damned and consumed human flesh or sacrificed visitors to foul gods. Lukas shook his head, they were on the road to Middenheim. The people may be frightened but surely they didn't mean harm. He looked to the rest of the group, hoping they would come in case things went wrong, but also thinking how scary they must look - nothing screamed mercenary than heavily armed outsiders. "Does anyone want to come with me? Let's remember they are frightened and they are unlikely to have anything to share. We ask them to come and share, we shouldn't just take what little they have." There was a nagging feeling in Lukas' head. Why hadn't the Graf sent his soldiers out to these villages to protect them and bring them into the city - they were so close. The idea that these people had just been left out here troubled him. | |||||
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Jocelin put her hand on Fyodor's shoulder and said quietly, "The Captain wants us to reassure the townsfolk we're not here to hurt them, and see if we can help each other." | |||||
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When the Kislevite's thick accent mumurred beside him, he turned to answer, amused by how close the quiet wizardling had managed to get without being heard. He smiled, and confirmed her response, "Scout the ruins. Better the survivors with us, than prey for beasts and greenskins" | |||||
He then raised his gun into the air and volunteered."I help." | |||||
As you walk into the central platz a door opens in a large, partially collapsed building and a trio walk out carrying halberds. They wear Middenland state troopers colours but all three are wounded and bandaged. The leader, or at least the man you presume is the leader steps forward a little ahead of his companions. "I am Corporal Schlitt," he says, looking you up and down and keeping a tight grip of his weapon, even though his left hand is wrapped in a bloody bandage. The man has dark hair and a week's worth of beard. "In the name of Count Boris Todbringer state yer business in Immelscheld." You are aware that other people are observing you from windows and doorways. Maybe a dozen and a half frightened looking civilians of various ages. | |||||
Lukas wasn't a natural speaker or negotiator at the best of times and the pressure of the situation got to him. He felt a lump in this throat and his voice frailer than perhaps he intended it to be. "Corporal Schllit..." he began, "We are.... envoys...I think, um...we are refugees from the battle of Untergard. The battle was won, but a greater force is behind us. We are headed for the shelter of the walls of Middenheim." Lukas looked around and saw the scared faces. Either a great calamity had fallen the town or...no, Lukas couldn't countenance that, the soldiers were protecting the people. "Our people are outside Immelscheld, they are weary and footsore, but when we saw signs of life from your town we have come to offer aid and assistance. We'd like to offer for you to join us on our travel, there may be greater safety in numbers." Lukas decided not to mention if they had any spare supplies, that would be determined if the villagers wished to come. "We mean you no harm, but I can tell a calamity has befallen you. Have you too faced the terror of greenskins, mutants and beastmen? We may be able to help your wounded." Lukas wasn't perhaps imaginative enough to think of what other possible horrors may have occurred here... (OOC: Do the villagers look more scared of us or the soldiers emerging from the building?) | |||||
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he usually used the sticks to flavour meals but he remembered as a child chewing them for hours which other than enjoyable staved off hunger pains. he walked over to the window and offered one to each of the children, within seconds they were smiling at the taste. he nodded at the adults with them then moved back to the others | |||||
There is obvious pride but also exhaustion behind his words. "Don't knows about leaving 'ome... the Captain and Sergeant gave their lives for Immelscheld, and so many others..." Edgar's kindliness is rewarded with surprised, happy grins for the faces of two little boys and girls as they started wolfing down the liquorice. | |||||
(OOC: Thought I would throw in a Fel roll. Don't know why because I have never succeeded with one ever in WFRP lol. 14:58, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 31 -- a simple failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 24. Against Fel of 24. | |||||
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OOC: 10:05, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 18 using 1d100. Fel — Target <35. | |||||
Even as he finishes speaking there is a shuffling sound as the surviving civilians of Immelschald timidly leave their hiding places and enter the platz. They look much like the survivors of Untergard, though fewer in number, perhaps a score of adults, mostly women and a half a dozen children. Everyone is looking at you with expressions ranging from fear to awe with the Dwarf Harkrin and the obviously foreign Fyodor drawing most of the attention. | |||||
"I'll help get your people ready, and you can say your goodbyes." It may have been a battered shell of a village but it was home to these people, and few would want to live willingly otherwise they would be on the road already. Lukas offered to help people gather their things and any provisions, being mindful that they didn't appear to be looting the village quickly. (OOC: Are there any other interesting villagers? Perhaps those who may have a martial background or any healers or artisans?) | |||||
Surely they would be safer travelling with them, but that only meant more people to protect and more trouble ahead. At least Middenheim was not that far away. | |||||
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"Lets go." he grunted from underneath the sacks and began the walk back to the caravan. | |||||
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While Corporal Schlitt is clearly the protector of the survivors two other individuals stand out amongst them. The first, a tall man who introduces himself to "Frau Herzog" as Luitpold Hause, the town silversmith. Certainly his clothes, hanging loose on a frame thinned by stress and little food speak of a man of prosperity. Among the survivors he seems the most eager to leave. "My brother-in-law lives in Middenheim," he explains to the magister. "He's a priest of Ulric and thank the White Wolf himself my wife and daughter were in the city visiting him when the attack came. If you get me safely there I'll make it worth your while." The other survivor who Lukas notices is a sandy haired girl at some point in her teens. She stands noticeably alone among the townsfolk, expression somewhere between a sulk and stubborn show of pride. There is something about her that is very familiar to Lukas but he can't quite place it... As you make it back to the caravan you see Captain Schiller has set up camp for the night and begun posting guards. The smell of cooking food and the crackle of camp fires seems to noticeably improve the spirits of the Immelschalders. Tomorrow evening or perhaps the morning after should - the Gods willing! - see you in Middenheim. | |||||
The young girl interested him too, she seemed somewhat aloof and removed. It could be any reason really? Maybe she wanted to stay and fight, maybe she wanted to defend their homes. Perhaps she, or a relative had undertaken an act of great heroism and suffered greatly or perhaps she had wronged the people and barely been tolerated. Everyone had a story to tell... Lukas decided to try and talk to her and bring her into the fold somewhat. Carrying a bundle of blankets on behalf of the people he accosted her. "Have you got much to carry? Need any help with anything?" he asked, but really he had another question, "Could do with some help with these if you've a hand or two spare," he said offering half of the bundle to her. "My name's Lukas. I had a quiet life up until a few weeks ago, but I've nearly been killed by beastmen, mutants and even seen elves. I've enough tales in the last month to last a lifetime." "So what's your tale then?" he asked, guessing that he may as well be direct. (OOC: 20:48, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 56 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44 ((56)).) | |||||
With a satisfied grunt he walked over to the fire where the food was cooking and got a bowl of something. He thanked the cooks and then found a spot near one of the fires where the soldiers were resting. Pulling out his kvas skin he took a big gulp and began eating his meager dinner. | |||||
After a short while, he made his way to where the silversmith had settled in, offered a half bow to the man from a few feet away, "Herr Haus. Perhaps I might settle by your fire tonight, keep a bit of a watch. You said you were a-feared of the journey ... to where your brother might provide a blessing and a good word for a man caught up in such terrible times..." Unspoken was the prospect of coin, though he suspected his point was clear | |||||
"I'll take the first watch." he said. Even close to Middenheim there was no guarantee they were safe and alone in these woods. People may feel at ease, but he know that goblins, elves and worse things could be hiding out there, waiting for the right time to strike. | |||||
"And don't worry about my possessions. I'm wearing them." Lottie stated, lifting her chin and peering into Lukas's face, her hazel eyes seeming almost daring him to make a disparing comment about the shapeless and filthy dress she was wearing. "Have you really seen elves?" she asked a note of awe breaking throught the flinty persona. Pieter meanwhile had found Luitpold Hause a more polite encounter - or at least less directly confrontational as he didn't hide the look of distaste at Pieter's grubby attire or accent. Still needs must, as the silversmith said: "I thank you my good man I would be grateful of a bodyguard of your... um... talents. No doubt your captain is a good man but one must be careful no?" Fyodor and Harkrin both managed to get prime positions taking their dinner, cannily beating the queue as the newcomers attracted the attention of the Untergard survivors. As night fell, the gathered of the two towns find room and place to settle for the night, weighing heavy above them. The sky heavy and damp, making for a decently warm nigh time under the skies if but a little peace, luck and hope would come their way. Schiller commands those gathered to share out additional blankets and spaces by the fire. Though there is some grumbling there are no fights between the groups. Everyone is simply too tired, and frankly too glad to see new human faces. Granny prepares what food there is for her orphan charges, tells them a bedtime story, and then herds them into her wagon for bed. She closes the flaps of the wagon and all is quiet for a long time. Harkrin, keeping watch at the edge of camp finds himself dozing off until he hears a fluttering pass him by - and looks to see it is only a glossy back raven flitting away from the camp, feathers lit by moonlight. All else is quiet. Suddenly, the crying of a child destroys the night’s silence. Soon other cries join in, making a chorus of wailing. Exhausted refugees curse the interruption and shout for Granny Moescher to calm the children. The only response is more crying. Schiller rises and barks out: "Taal's teeth!! What is going on now? Where is Granny?" The children cry out and their fear is painted on their faces. Teardrops run down their face and the refugees eye around unable to see her. | |||||
"Yes, we have met elves in the Drakwald, and they are real!" he said, his tone matching the girls awe somewhat. "They are beuatiful and mysterious but dangerous to. I'm glad I saw them, but I'm not sure I'd want to meet them again. You're welcome at the camp fire tonight, and I am sure my friends and I can tell you more about them." And with that, Lukas decided not to press the girl further and went to help the rest of the villagers with their things to prepare their joining of the camp. Lukas tossed and turned under his bedroll. His dreams were filled with the sights and sounds of battle, of vile mutated faces and teeth and tusk and horns soaked in blood. They segued into a little death of sorts as the river claimed him, before being fished out by a mother he could not remember. She was beautiful and she tended him and brought him to life and then he saw it wasn't his mother, it was Luciana, poor Luciana haunting his dreams too. Or was it his mother? He heard the cry of a babe and he wasn't sure if it was his own and then confused, he realised he was awake and the cries were not in his dreams and were coming from the wagon where the orphans slept. Lukas wasn't a parent and had never experienced that automatic response a father may feel when they heard their child crying and they rushed to respond, but something inside him told him that there was a problem and it wasn't just a child having nightmares similar to his own and the rest of the camp. He rolled out from underneath his blanket, a sense of urgency filling him. He grabbed his hand axe and strode purposefully to Granny's wagon, knowing that something wasn't right. He poked his head through the flaps and saw the tearful children, but old Granny was nowhere to be found. 'By Ulric's beard where is she now!' he thought, frustrated as he tried to soothe the children. "There, there..." he said, trying to calm then down. "No need to be upset...now what's happened? Why are you crying and what's happened to Granny?" Lukas felt he was doing no good, and really when you think about it, although some of the children may have seen him about town and they had witnessed many horrors no one really wants to be disturbed by a dirty, bearded man dressed in black poking his head through the flaps of the wagon brandishing a handaxe do they? Realising he was out of his depth with the children he called to the fire. "Granny's gone walkabout again," he cried, frustrated that his free-spirited friend had wandered off again. He looked towards his companions, most of them looked less child-friendly than he! "Edgar, wake up pal, you're good with kids. Come and help me get some sense out of these little 'uns" he called over to the fire. | |||||
He quickly got to his feet and grabbed his trusted polearm and joined the coal guy. "What going on? Why they all cry?" he asked and nodded at Lukas explanation. Not waiting for the halfling to wake the big warrior knelt down and gently shook the halfling awake. | |||||
Once the decision for the survivors of Immelschald to join the caravan had been made, she had spent her time helping the mothers and grandmothers gather their families and begin making their way out of town. So too had she joined Granny in tending the orphans, both those they'd brought and those of Immelschald, introducing them to each other and playing games in the hope they'd make fast friends and be able to look after each other. It was thus that fatigue overcame her early in the evening and she retired to her tent. The cries of children and Captain Shiller rouse a well-rested wizard, and she hustled to Granny's wagon and the orphans still in her nightgown, with a woolen blanket wrapped about her shoulders. "Tut tut, dear ones," she said. "remember the song we taught you?" Singing softly she began in a happy voice, "In nighttime creepy-crawlies lurk neath floorboard, closet, and bedskirt But sunshine banish all with light, as Sigmar's Hammer to the fight! "Constanze, please," Jocelin asked one of the older girls while she picked up a wailing young boy, holding him within her blanket his head against her breast, "comfort them thus." "What fear may hold while we keep faith? Not ghoulie, ghostie, or dread-wraith. His virtue courage doth replace, And thereby offer saving grace." OOC: 09:50, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 26 using 1d100. Fellowship target <35. Hi folks. Thanks for keeping the fire burning for me. | |||||
Inwardly, he snorted to himself - even militia captains had their uses - and sort out the other stranglers, the hard ones who seemed to know what they were about | |||||
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When the children's cries had settled to manageable whimper he went to the fire stirred the embers and got a large pot of boiling water on the heat. quickly herbs were thrown in, sweet smelling and tasting ones with a honey comb he had been saving for a cake once they had reached safety but needs must. Within minutes the little halfling was spooning out thick liquid goodness, a mixture his gran had taught him to sooth the small ones in his village. Now back with the children he tested the mixture to make sure it was not too hot them passed small wooden cups out to the little ones to quiet them still | |||||
Constanze, a pale waif of maybe twelve, all large bluel eyes and braided chestnut hair seemed awed that the big city wizardess had singled her out. She had a story to tell: "Granny Mo’s been funny all day. Since we stopped by the broken carts to rest the Oxen. She cried. I saw her! She said it was just dust, but I know it weren’t true. She was crying about Fahndorf. She said it was Soldiers what did the burnin’ but it was Graf Sternhaur who had bloody hands. She said lots of bad words. She said what’s power for if you don’t use it. She said the bird told her it was the right thing to do. I heard her say it, and then she was all scary looking. Like when Captain Schiller chopped up that beastman who killed Frau Becker." All of this comes out in an excitable stream of conversation but the other orphans chime in with assent, including one small boy who bursts into tears and wails: "Black bird scared me!" Outside Granny's cart a quick headcount revealed that no one seemed to have seen Granny leave. OOC: Can I get a Perception test everyone? | |||||
OOC: Perception 20:30, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 52 using 1d100. Perception target <42 (FP reroll). 1 Degree of Failure This message was last edited by the player at 01:35, Fri 25 Mar 2022. | |||||
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Instead he knelt next to the crying boy and awkwardly patted his head and back attempting to console the child "Black bird. You draw? Me find and kill." OOC 08:54, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 47 using 1d100. Perception - 27. 11:27, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 93 using 1d100. Perception - 27 FP Reroll. This message was last edited by the player at 18:28, Thu 24 Mar 2022. | |||||
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His gut feeling was that Granny had turned back the way they had come to her childhood home, near where the goblin ambush took place. He was possibly as close to Granny as anyone else from back 'home' but now they were so close to Middenheim it would be foolish to turn back. (OOC: What a pair of awful rolls! 20:11, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 92 -- 4 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44. Perception (Int 44). 20:11, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 100 -- 5 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44. Perception (Int 44) (Fortune Point reroll).) | |||||
00:28, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 36 -- a simple success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 36. Perception, -1 FP. 00:28, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 88 -- 5 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 36. Perception. | |||||
The keen eyed Pieter notices that Granny's slingbag is missing and in it's place, carefully folded is a note written on a scrap of parchment. It is meaningless to the illiterate Pieter but Jocelin can read - as can Captain Schiller who grows pale as he reads it. "She has gone to Fahndorf, even if it is just a ruin. I don't understand what she means by this!" Captain Schiller says. The old soldier shakes his head in confusion. "Can she actually do something against the Graf? I know she is a wise woman, but magic, really?" OOC: Granny Moescher's note is in the Group Handout thread. | |||||
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Jocelin was distressed at the news on the parchment. "Oh Granny... Captain, Middenheim is within a day's march, yes? Could... could we..." she looked around at the others, and smiled at the halfling's offer. "She's very set in her ways, but we need to stop her before she works some mischief for herself and the Graf..." | |||||
He moved swiftly to gather his things, few thoughts they were, “Let’s see if her memory trounces our trail lore” Without too much of a backward glance, he sought out some rations and a lantern, leaning on Captain Achillers name if he needed to This message was last edited by the player at 17:26, Mon 04 Apr 2022. | |||||
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It was a brutal statement, but he remembered Luciana fondly for saving him. "I'll go to Fahndorf with you," he said to Edgar, "There's enough evil at our backs without Granny causing more," Whatever it was she was planning.... | |||||
Beneath his breath he muttered, “Every time” | |||||
It is a lonely walk in the dark with walls of the treeline on either side but the sky is full of stars and both moons are out tonight. After two, perhaps three hours you reach the crossroads and carry on, drawn by a distant orange glow in the direction of Fahndorf. The ruins of Fahndorf are a quarter of a mile from the crossroads, though only a few skeletal timbers of the village are still visible. They are luridly lit by the fire glow in a neighbouring field. In the empty field you can see a huge bonfire, circled by dark animal shapes. Chanting drifts across the air as the flames dance. A more human looking shadowy shape is tossing things into the fire, causing it to change colour from red to blue to green. Magic is in the air. OOC: Perception tests everyone. | |||||
Lukas tried to get a closer look at the field but not at the risk of exposing himself to whatever evil lurked there. (OOC: 23:36, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 40 -- a simple success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 44. Perception test (Int 44).) | |||||
OOC: 19:01, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 9 using 1d100. Perception target < 42. 3 degrees of success | |||||
10:37, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 57 -- 2 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 36 ((57)). | |||||
To the city bred Jocelin they look savage indeed, but to Middenland native Lukas they seem normal enough in appearance for Drakland wolves - powerful grey furred beasts the size of small ponies but with no obvious signs of mutations or madness. They look to be guarding Granny as the woman... does whatever she is doing around the lurid bonfire. | |||||
He took a step closer to the bonfire, unarmed and held his hands up in a sign of peace. The wolves worried him but he hoped they would only attack if Granny commanded it. "Granny," he called loud enough to be heard but with as much softness in his voice as he could muster, "The children are missing you and you are needed by your friends." He hoped his plea to her duty would be enough but somehow he doubted it. "What is this you are doing now?" he asked daring to take a step further, with his eyes firmly on the wolves. He was scared and wanted to judge the distance to see if he could run away to his friends before he was almost certainly mauled to death. But wasn't Ulric with him? Perhaps the wolves were protecting Granny, but anyone whose heart was in these lands? "Can we sit with you and you can tell us what all this is about? You know me, I mean you no ill." He couldn't speak for the others and he felt a little disingenuous saying what he did but he at least hoped this could end peacefully... (whatever 'this' was...) | |||||
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He had hunted wolves back home and was familiar them but not the size of these. He gripped his weapon harder and tried to count them. | |||||
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He had his axe ready for the expected confrontation with the wolves, but he still hoped things would not come to fight. Not out of fear, but because he worried about his companions. The Kislevite would be fine, but the others... It was one of those cases when the soft-spoken girl and the reckless charcoal burner should succeed. | |||||
Granny continues her chanting. OOC: Okay Lukas can I get a Fellowship roll please? This message was last edited by the GM at 09:35, Mon 02 May 2022. | |||||
He wanted to believe Granny was doing good but he struggled to reconcile that with what he saw. (OOC: oh Fel, how I hate thee, failed twice and spent a Fortune Point 09:54, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 68 -- 4 degrees of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 24. Fellowship 24. 09:55, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 36 -- 1 degree of failure using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 24. Fellowship 24 (reroll spend Fortune Point). As an aside it's a mechanic that works in the setting, because it is unlikely that anyone gets anyone to listen to reason or offer help or provide information. It bakes mistrust of strangers and disdain of the common folk into the setting!) | |||||
Lukas does at least have the the flicker of relief as he realises these are merely normal wolves rather than chaos beasts, the weird light on their fur simply the reflections of the fire. Of course real wolves do still have teeth... OOC: Oof, unlucky rolls there. Also sorry I made a typo that should have been "lit by the multicoloured fire". Okay everyone roll Initiative. 10:56, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Wolves, rolled 47 using 1d10+40. Initiative. The six wolves all use a group Initiative score and anyone who beats 47 can describe their actions straight away.  | |||||
(OOC: 19:40, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 43 using 1d10+35. Initiative.) | |||||
OOC: 12:31, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 38 using 1d100+31. Initiative. | |||||
12:48, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 26 using 1d10+24. Initiative. | |||||
Even as they lope forward one of the wolves staggers as a well aimed sling bullet from Edgar clips the side of it's head. The creature manages to regain momentum and launch itself at Pieter, lightly wounding the outlaw as it's jaws dash against his leather jerkin. Beside him Lukas is as unlucky as ever. His wolf - a foaming grey furred canine with glaring brainless yellow eyes and sharp teeth savages his stomach, tearing away cloth and flesh alike. The attack very nearly finishes Lukas off altogether and he feels his life's blood seeping through his ruined shirt, the wolf's fetid breath on his face... In contrast the wolves facing Harkrin and Fyodor fail to land any bites on the hardened dwarf and Kislevite. OOC: Round One Initiative Order: Edgar Wolves Lukas & Pieter (tie) Fyodor Jocelin Harkrin Map update:  Summary of Round One so far: - Wolf #1 was wounded by Edgar's sling, losing 4 Wounds. - Pieter was wounded by Wolf #1, losing 1 Wound. - Lukas was wounded by Wolf #2, losing 9 Wounds. - Wolf #3 attacked Harkrin but missed. - Wolf #4 attacked Fyodor but missed. - Wolf # 5 and Wolf #6 have moved. Lukas, Pieter, Jocelin, Harkrin and Fyodor you are up! | |||||
08:09, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 54 using 1d100. Attack (vs50). | |||||
Pieter's eyes widen at the attack but the outlaw has his weapon at the ready, slicing deep into the wolf's hide with sword. The already wounded beast howls in pan, it's grey fur turning an eerie scarlet in the moonlight as he blood flows. The wolf lives still but it is visibly weaker, trying to turn it's injured flank away while staying in the fight. OOC: 11:53, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Pieter Marik, rolled 6 using 1d10+3. Damage. 11:52, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Pieter Marik, rolled 61 using 1d100. Swift Attack Two vs 31. 11:51, Today: Game Master, on behalf of Pieter Marik, rolled 4 using 1d100. Swift Attack One vs 31. Wolf #1 takes 3 Wounds. | |||||
The warrior swore, dropped his fire arm and drew his pole arm. OOC: Well that was unlucky. 07:50, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 52 using 1d100. BS vs 30 - Fortune point. 07:45, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 31 using 1d100. BS vs 30. | |||||
... reappearing and ripping through the chest of the wolf slavering over Lukas' ghastly wound. OOC: 12:42, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 6 using 1d100. Channeling - Success target 43. Use ingredient. 12:39, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 6 using 1d10+2. Magic Dart Wolf on Lukas DC 6. 12:45, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 12 using 1d10+3. Magic Dart Damage. | |||||
"Granny, we're only trying to help you!" he cried, tears welling in his eyes from fear, pain but most of all a distraught sadness as even friends turned against him. He backed off trying to get away from the scene of the carnage, tried to get as far away from the wolves as he could. He was as surprised as anyone when a bolt of light appeared from behind him and pierced the rabid wolf that was trying to eat him. He glanced around and saw a wisp of smoke in the hand of Jocelin and a smell of burnt fur filled his nostrils. "Thanks..." he called, as he tried to backpedal, whilst maintaining his balance. (OOC: Lukas is taking a Disengage action and moving as far away from the wolves as he can, without turning tail and running) | |||||
With a whirr of leather Edgar sends another sling bullet towards the wolves but this one flies wide, harmlessly hitting a tree some distance away. The horribly mangled wolf that had been fighting Lukas ignore the fleeing charcoal burner and lopes towards Jocelin, snapping and snarling at the wizardess without drawing blood. Another of the wolves, hitherto unengaged charges Edgar but somehow despite it's ferocity fails to land a bite on the slippery halfling. Pieter finds himself in combat with two of the wolves. The outlaw's flashing blade keeps them at bay - for now at least. Harkrin and Fyodor find their own wolves savaging at empty air as the practiced combatants avoid canine fangs. OOC: Round Two Initiative Order: Edgar Wolves Lukas & Pieter (tie) Fyodor Jocelin Harkrin Map update:  Summary of Round Two so far: - Edgar made a sling attack against Wolf#2 but missed. - Wolf #1 attacked Pieter but missed. - Wolf #2 Charge Attacked Jocelin but missed. - Wolf #3 attacked Harkrin but missed. - Wolf #4 attacked Fyodor but missed. - Wolf #5 Charge Attacked Edgar but missed. - Wolf #6 Charge Attacked Edgar but missed. Lukas, Pieter, Jocelin, Harkrin and Fyodor you are up! | |||||
And like a shot she was off... running as fast as her legs could carry her towards the fire. As she ran, she shouted, "Would you... let Fel ruin pass... through you... onto us... onto innocents! ... because of... his evil?" OOC: This message was last edited by the player at 01:12, Fri 20 May 2022. | |||||
08:05, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 93 using 1d100 ((93)). | |||||
08:51, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 39 using 1d100. Parry - 36. 08:06, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 70 using 1d100. Ulrichs Fury - 36. 08:05, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 13 using 1d10+3. Damage 1. 08:04, Today: Fyodor Fyodoreski rolled 10 using 1d100. WS 36 - Attack. | |||||
He saw Jocelin try and break off from the wolves and run. It was brave, but dangerous but her action gave him an idea! Seeing the wolves were otherwise engaged Lukas moved away from the wolves and thought he saw a better approach... (OOC: Since Lukas is disengaged from combat he will try and circle around the wolves who are otherwise busy. May take a round or two but he intends to circle the wolves and then run at Granny from an angle. If we can't appeal to reason, two of us should be able to subdue her.) | |||||
Against the lurid bonfire you all see the dark silhouette of Granny Moescher turn her head towards the wizardess. Maybe Jocelin's words got through to the old woman. Maybe she was simply startled. Whatever happened her droning ritual suddenly stumbles to a close. None of you know the exact ritual being used but it is very clear that something has gone wrong. From somewhere seemingly inside the flames there is a mournful wail, full of anger at being thwarted. It hurts your ears and the wolves whine and howl before loping into the evening darkness. Then as suddenly as it began the wail ceases. The bonfire flickers and goes out, revealing nothing more than charred wood. For a moment all is peaceful. And Granny Moescher collapses in a heap where she is standing. OOC: Okay you are out of combat guys. | |||||
Lukas clutched his bloodied stomach and knew he would need help soon. He was sick of nearly dying for other people and trying to do the right thing. He felt afraid that the wolves would come back and finish them off. He saw his friend there, or at least she once was his friend. She looked like a little frail old lady asleep by a campfire. He felt pity for her, whatever had driven her here. Lukas gripped his axe tightly in his hand and anger threatened to overwhelm him. She had abandoned the children, and turned her beasts on him, using evil magic in the process. He raised his axe to end her life here and now..... And his hand fell to his side. He couldn't do it. He hated her right now, but he wasn't vengeful. "Approach carefully," he said quietly. "We need rope and we'll tie her up. Let Captain Schiller decide on her fate." If they got to Middenheim only a fire awaited her. Her best chance of clemency was with the Captain, but a witch was a witch of course. He felt hurt, angry and betrayed. He was a fool for going back for her but she was an outsider like him and she had done much good in her life. "Why Granny, why?", he whispered, "What led you to this? Why didn't you ask for help with your troubles..." He doubted the woman could answer but he knew he'd never understand. | |||||
The others were handling the old lady so instead he carefully used his polearm to poke around in the ashes and burnt logs. | |||||
Nodding towards Fyodor and Lukas, he scanned the area until he was perfectly sure they were safe. Even then, he was not going to let his guard down. | |||||
"I'm sorry I failed you father," she says and closes her eyes. As the charcoal burner watches the old woman's chest rises and falls as she takes one final breath... then stillness. Morr has taken her. Fyodor's prodding of the bonfire reveals little more than ash. Whatever dark spirit was being conjured was extinguished as much as the fire itself or never made it to the mortal world. The ritual had been broken before it was finished, that much is clear. Harkrin's keen gaze scours the landscape, dwelling with Dwarven suspicion on the trees and bushes but no, they too are empty and the wolves fled licking their wounds. It is Jocelin who cries out. Searching beside Granny's prone body she holds up a book. The covers are some cracked brown leather, the parchment yellow and warped and even as she holds it up for you all to see the young wizardess shudders in distaste. None of you have the gift of magic as far as you know but there does seem something... off about the book that makes your skin crawl just looking at it. "It is a tome of sorcery," Jocelin says. "Obviously where Granny learnt to summon daemons. No stay back, no one else touch it! It stinks of dark magic. We must destroy it now!" | |||||
"There nothing." he said and pointed towards the bonfire remains. He walked over to Jocelin to see what all the fuss about the book was. "Burn book?" | |||||
Jocelin seems visibly nauseated to be in the spellbook's presence and eager to see it destroyed. Soon enough you manage to have a fire going once more and Jocelin stands watching the book burn away until it is so blackened and warped as to be unrecognisable. "It's done. Come on we should bring Granny Moescher's body back to the Captain. I don't think we can do more here." This message was last edited by the GM at 12:14, Thu 22 Sept 2022. | |||||
"Are you sure we shouldn't burnt he body as well?" he asked, unsure of human ways. | |||||
"I agree," he said glancing at the Dwarf. "No good can be had by carrying her back to camp. It will only distress the children and the rest of the townsfolk. I say we cremate her here in a place that mattered to her. I'll tell Schiller she was afraid and wanted to see where her old village was one last time. We'll tell them that she died, being attacked by wild wolves and we were to late. It feels like the only decent thing I can do for her now." Lukas wiped a tear welling in the corner of his eye and looked away from the little old lady who nearly caused his death. It was to much to take. (OOC: Is there a token on Granny anywhere that will prove her identity to the townsfolk when we return. Unless there is a good reason I am not sure we should be carrying corpses around with us...) | |||||
"The mark of Ghur, the Amber Wind," Jocelin explains, wiping away a tear of her own. The young wizardess looks like she's aged ten years in a day. "Don't worry there is no dark magic to it, just that of natural beasts and wilderness." Together Harkrin, Lukas, Fyodor and Pieter build a small a makeshift bier for the old woman out of fallen ash branches. With the aid of Edgar's tinderbox you soon have a fire going and the old woman is cremated without incident or ill omen, though with much sniffling and perhaps a few words of your own to the departed. As you walk back to the camp the first streaks of morning light are visible against the dark and with it it the first chatters of birdsong. En route Lukas is convinced for a moment he sees a raven on a branch turn it's head to look at him, but the next moment it flaps it's wing once, twice and goes aloft framed in the predawn sky before wheeling in the air and heading south. Captain Schiller is up waiting for you, expression grave but composed, clearly expecting the worst. He can obviously read in your faces you bring bad news. "We're a day away from Middenheim. Perhaps it is appropriate. I don't think Granny Moescher could have brought herself to leave the Drakwald." | |||||
Lukas recounted a version of the story to Schiller on their return, omitting anything to do with evil magic. "Yes Captain, in the end she didn't really want to leave her home. We may be safer behind the walls but Granny would never have been happy there. Make sure the children don't hear of the wolves. I want them to think Granny died peacefully. They really loved her and they've had nightmares enough in these times." Anyone who had seen Lukas upon his return would not have failed to notice the gaping wounds in his chest and stomach. He was a tough man, but knew he needed to take it easy for a while. "Is there anyone who can have a look at this Captain? I know Granny normally sorted this sort of thing. When I get to Middenheim I am going to sleep for a week - only a day or so now..." As soon as Lukas spoke a moment of doubt crept into his thoughts. What would happen if they didn't let them in? Would there be shelter? Food? Work for them? They weren't solitary travellers, they were a small town and a small village and by Ulric's beard there were almost certainly other refugees. He held his tongue for the time being, there was no point worrying folk further. | |||||
The Captain strokes his mustache, eyeing Lukas's injuries. "Aye, I can see you've been through the wars lad." He points over towards one of the campfires where you can see a middle aged woman with a jolly plump face - or at least it probably had been plump before the recent struggles. "That's Ingrid of Immelscheld. She's normally a midwife but she knows how to heal a cut or two. Probably the best you can look for until we reach the city and you can see a Sister of Shallya. Hmmph, or a barber-surgeon." Sure enough the woman seems to know what she is doing, washing and bandaging Lukas's wolf bites. OOC: 21:12, Today: Game Master, for the NPC Frau Ingrid, rolled 18 using 1d100. Healing. Lukas regains one Wound. | |||||
"So, have any of you been to Middenheim before?" he asked his companions some time later. | |||||
"Where's home for you Harkrin? Are you a long way from where you grew up?" | |||||
As they returned to the caravan the large Kislevite stayed quiet and let the others, who were more familiar with the local customs, explain what had happened in the woods. When all was said and done he joined the others around the campfire for a drink. "No Middenheim. Good city?" the large man asked. | |||||
He said the last of these words in a quieter voice | |||||
"Heard stories about Middenheim. Build by dwarven engineers. Solid fortress. Will be safer than these damned woods infested by wolves and elves." he said, glancing suspiciously at Pieter and his sword. "Would be good to finally sleep with a roof over our heads. I haven't spent so much time outside my whole life." | |||||
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The rest of the journey to Middenheim the next morning is uneventful. As you get closer to the city, you see more military patrols and the threat of the Drakwald seems to recede. At last you see the Ulricsberg, the great rock on which Middenheim is built, in the distance. It heartens you to see the flags of the Emperor and Count Todbringer flying proudly over the battlements, but as you get closer you can see the devastation that Archaon has wrought here. Mass graves are everywhere, the walls are pitted and scarred, and half the city seems in ruins. Even in Middenheim, it seems, life is a struggle. You can only wonder what awaits you in the City of the White Wolf... Continued in 'Paths of the Damned - Chapter One: Ashes of Middenheim' This message was last edited by the GM at 20:06, Mon 03 Oct 2022. |
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