"So... are we going to negotiate with them and suggest they join us?" Harkrin asked and looked around to find that no one from the rear guard was really interested. Cursing, he slowly made his way towards the front of the column, pushing aside anyone getting in his way.

"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?"

Captain Schiller looks at Harkin in obvious surprise. It is not immediately clear whether the watch commander is more surprised at the question or the questioner. After a moment silence he creased his iron grey brows and replies.

"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."

Jocelin took heart at the Captain's suggestion. "One never knows how hearts may be turned towards unity in the face of Chaos... I'll certainly go! And if their hearts are hard... they will know where help may be found, if it comes to that."

Fyodor stayed quiet for the time being awaiting what the group decided to do. He wasnt opposed to trail off and visit the burned down city but doubted they could convince them to join the caravan if the hatred was a strong as the Captain said it was.

"Why so mad with Grimminhagen" he asked the captain.

Edgar rode back to the others "I have to agree if nothing else they need to know the beast men are moving their way. I will not stand in the way of a fued but it is right and proper they should be aware of their potential fate if they stay."

"And as the good captain states as outsiders our word might carry more weight than if he were to speak them"

"Untergard was founded a hundred years ago by people from small villages and farms near Grimminhagen," Captain Schiller explains to Fyodor. The watch captain stroked his steel coloured moustache as he reminisced. "Our ancestors, my grandfather among them were fleeing the unjust taxes of Graf Sternhauer - the current Graf's own grandfather. Our forefathers built a great town in the wilderness and Ulric willing Untergard will rise again."

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.

Jocelin starts to respond, but stops. She looks at the mootling with narrow eyes, thinking: ~~ If he's to be useful, now would be the time. ~~

"Well go on, Messenger. Convince them of the need to stop these petty squabbles from dividing us."

"Har! One hundred years! It's nothing! Some family arguments among my people can last that long! Can you even imagine that? Having a wife who doesn't speak to you for decades?" Harkrin said to no one in particular and then quietly followed his companions towards the town. He was about to speak to the watchmen, but decided that perhaps he was not the most suitable representative of the group.

Fyodor was walking next to the dwarf as they approached the village. He chuckled at the wife comment but said nothing. As they got closer he checked his arquebus and kept it at hand in case of trouble.

Edgar followed the two men on his pony. He wasn't sure if they would listen to them but it was worth a try. And it it meant he didn't have to listen to Jackson's slightly condescending comments for a while it would at least give his ears a rest

The guards exchange glances with each other, then look back at you.

"Well? Ranald got your tongue?" the taller asks.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:48, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

Jocelin realizes none of the men care to talk. "Pardon, guardsmen," she begins, "the mootling is not normally so quiet."

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.

The kislivite chuckled having not understood at least half of what the wind witch had said. When the guard looked at him he just shrugged.

Edgar slid off his pony and approached the men " what my lady is trying to say is we bear a message for the leader of your town. I am a messenger of the guild of messengers" he showed his papers with the seal to prove he was indeed what he said he was

" 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"

"Ah, the mootling managed to find his tongue. You have our apologies."

"Just step aside and let us do our job." the dwarf grumbled impatiently.

The watchmen stare at Jocelin uncertainly for a moment, but with Edgar adding his claims of a message and 'Klinka' his characteristic friendliness they evidently decide you aren't a danger to the town.

"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.

Edgar slipped off his pony and tied her up and walked over to the three guards " I am Edgar Stoutfoot at your service" He said with a formal bow " I wish to speak to the person in charge I am a messenger of the guild of messengers and have a very important message to relay to them" he waved his hand towards the others " these good people are with me to corroborate the contents of said message"

Fyodor nodded in the most official way possible before taking a deeper look at the people in the square.


OOC: How are the guards armed and clad? And is there any indication on how large the remaining city guard force is?

"And we don't have much time to waste." Harkrin added to what the Halfling just said.

The tent reminds most of you of the kind of thing that might be seen in a travelling circus or at a carnival, a great gaudy green and yellow structure with gold trim. It was patched and faded in places and to the more cosmopolitan Jocelin it seemed strikingly tasteless but it was clearly intended to be magnificent.

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.

Edgar nodded his thanks and moved off to the town hall, he had little use for human gods and looking upon a shrine was of little use to him.

As he entered the building he stopped anyone nearby and asked for directions to the Balif

Harkrin snorted at the price, but decided to remain quiet. He followed Edgar to the building, making sure that his presence and angry face would give them the safe passage to the Bailiff.

"What is Shrine?" Fyodor asks curiously as he tries to get a peek inside.

"His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Karl-Franz set up his war tent here four weeks ago when the army passed through Grimminhagen," the lead guard tells Fyodor. Her voice swells with pride. "I saw him myself and heard him speak. We've set up a shrine here where for only one schilling you can pray here."

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.