The large warrior took in the group of fugitives, they were not much different than the ones back in his home country. Tired, dirty, scared and vulnerable. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked up to an older woman carrying a heavy sack probably container her meager belongings. Without a word he grabbed it slung it over his shoulder, then pointed towards his group. Then he took one more and an additional one from other of the fugitives. At the end it was impossible to see the large mans upper torso.

"Lets go." he grunted from underneath the sacks and began the walk back to the caravan.

Standing close by the dwarven ex-conflict, shielding him if truth be told, Pieter smiled sourly and left the other's to rounding up the refugees

A melancholy procession of civilians gathered up their belongings and join you in the platz. Lukas, himself familiar with the the beats and patterns of small town life in Middenland has a quick grasp of who did what in Immelschald and though not the most charismatic of men serves as a social interpreter for those who might be overawed by the cosmopolitan and upper class Jocelin.

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.

Lukas did his best getting the villagers back to their camp, helping them pack whatever it was they had left, hoping that their campfires and food would be adequate for people leaving their homes.  He did make some vague assurances to the silversmith that they would all be happier once they got to Middenheim, and although Lukas would be grateful for some silver the greatest treasure would be to safely be behind those impregnable walls.

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)).)

Fyodor heaved and grunted as he carried the remaining belongings of the villagers to the camp. Once there he gently set it on the ground and guarded it until each of the villagers had picked up their sacks and bags.

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.

Pieter stood close by the fireside for a few moments, warming his hands and smiling as the Kislevite pulled out his kvas - though he declined it if it were offered. His eyes followed the Captain and the Immelschalder's corporal as they made their rounds, treating them as much a threat as whatever might lurk beyond the firelight.

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

Once the group rejoined the caravan, Klinka made his way towards the fire and collected some food. There was nothing he had to say to anyone, so he just stood there, between the Kislevite and Pieter, watching the newcomers settle in. Once he finished the meal, he collected his belongings and moved towards the guard posts.

"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.

The sandy haired girl eyes Lukas's hand with open suspicion for a moment before reluctantly shaking it. "Lottie," she said, expression pugnacious. There was something very familiar about her but for the life of him Lukas couldn't place it. "I was the barmaid at the Gilded Swan, til the beastmen burned it down." She points at the smoke stained ruins of what once might have been a large inn or tavern.

"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.

"Nice to meet you Lottie," said Lukas but he wasn't sure he really meant it.  He was certain she was familiar but he couldn't place it but he didn't care that the girl was seemingly spoiling for a fight.  Then again, he fully understood why one would be tired, frustrated and just not up to making friends if Beastmen had burnt down your source of livelihood and slaughtered half your village.  Sadly, it was something everyone could relate to.

"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.

The steady sound ZZZzzzzZZZZZZZzzz was abruptly replaced by childrens crying and woke the large Kislevite.
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.

Jocelin had been grateful and relieved at Corporal Schlitt's response, and flattered at Edgar's kind words. She'd told him that perhaps they'd both been mistaken.

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.

Stirring from where he slept close by the Hause family, Pieter murmured some meaningless reassurance when the children's cries woke him from the half-sleep of the hunted. His blade, close to hand, remained sheathed as he took in the clamour and he nodded once to Luipold, "Best we find this wandering wise woman, afore folks get too distracted. Stay close by your fire and heed the Captain"

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

Shaking his head, Harkrin made his way from his post back to the centre of the camp. "What is this ruckus about?" he asked. "The old woman got lost again? Have anyone seen her?"

At the sound of the children crying Edgar was out of his bed roll and on his feet. He moved quickly to the little ones and while Jocelin sang a song he gathered as many as he could to him and gave each a reassuring hug.

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

Between Jocelin's gentle lullaby and Edgar's soothing broth the children begin to calm a little. They are still frightened and upset but the older ones at least are able to talk.

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?

Jocelin's focus was entirely on the children, and even as Constanze talked she only half heard her, occupied as she was calming the little ones.

---

OOC:

Perception
22:52, Today: Jocelin Herzog rolled 76 using 1d100.  Perception target <42.
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.

07:46, Today: Edgar Stoutfoot rolled 89 using 1d100.  Perception target 35

Fyodor was not accustomed in handling kids. They were fragile and would probably break if picked one up.

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.

19:01, Today: Harkrin 'Klinka' rolled 88 using 1d100 ((88)).

"Has she gone back to Fahndorf?" Lukas asked to no-one in particular amidst the wailing of the children.  "That place does not exist anymore, Granny seems to be lost to the past wanting to settle old scores.  Something on this journey has provoked her, an enemy or something from long ago."

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).)

Blocking out the wailing children, Pieter's senses were taut with Granny vanishing once more

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.

"Looks like she's got some unfinished business to take care of." Klinka said, scratching side of the wagon with his chisel. "Too bad for the kids, but this close to Middenheim it's hardly a problem, eh?" he looked around expecting others to share his view.

Edgar stepped forward " I could ride there I might meet her on the way or get there before her. I would not wish to see her on her own at this time"

"Oh no..."

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..."