Pieter is quiet over breakfast, having disappeared early in the evening Ng on an errand of his own. And whilst he had been most accommodating of Magnus’ request, his blade was once more swaddled in rags and nestled between his shoulders

Having woken up early as was his wont, Magnus took his time refreshing himself and spending some time meditating before joining the others for breakfast. He ordered some of the honeyed porridge and slowly ate it as he considered the others' plans.

His eyes brushed over the hilt of the sword on Pieter's back and he recalled the wonder he felt when he had seen it through his ethereal sight. Though he had mentioned little of his findings to Pieter last night, as he had left hurriedly on some errand, Magnus leaned close to the man and said, "The blade's name is Moranion. It is a powerful craftsmanship, and there will be many who will covet it should word of it get out."

Taking another bite he glanced at Harkrin, Lukas and Fyodor before saying, "The theater can be quite an experience, or so I have heard. It would be worth to experience it. To earn more money in the meanwhile, perhaps finding work guarding someone, especially someone traveling would be more worthwhile. I can read well enough, perhaps I can help find you such a job being displayed on the boards, or we could ask around."

"That would be helpful, thankyou Magnus," agreed Lukas appreciatively pondering that once he had new clothes, a job, and a visit to the theatre he may try and learn to read.  It seemed to be useful.  "I know a few of us have got some errands to run today.  Shall we meet back here later?  Hopefully if we can get some honest work we'll be better suited to our new lives here."

Nodding to Magnus’ whispered words, Pieter savoured the sound of the name in mind mind: Moranion. Honest work sounded .. honest, and full of toil, but he listened politely

Fyodor finished his breakfast and anyones leftovers and even leaned across to ask the table next to them if he could finish theirs. The Kislevite was delightedly surprised when they nodded and handed it over.

" I go to Neumarket. You join?" he asked and pointed his spoon at Magnus.

"Neumarket", confirmed Pieter, with a smile. After a moment he leaned in and spoke a little more softly, "If folks aren't too worried about the Watch, there's other enterprises that might benefit from those of our calibre, too, though"

"And if they are, there's some folk in that - and every - part of town to steer clear of"

"Good luck to you, fellas." Klinka said, finishing his breakfast and collecting his belongings. "I will see you around later and, hopefully, we'll all be a few coins richer. Try to stay away from trouble - I won't be there to help you this time!"

Suitably fortified by breakfast (several breakfasts in Fyodor's case) the group sets out. Fyodor, Lukas, Magnus and Pieter all head north-east in the direction of the Neumarket while Harkrin breaks off to head south-east to the district known as the Wynd. Though he has little idea where Brokk Ranulfsson lives Klinka had overheard one of the gate guards mention the district that was home to most of Middenheim's dwarfs.

---

Fyodor, Lukas, Magnus and Pieter

The foursome travel through the bustling morning streets of the city. Gradually the middle class houses and businesses of the Westgate-Sudgarten area give way to grander edifices, more often built of stone or at least with stone foundations than half timbered. This is the Merchant District of Middenheim and if the great burghers of the City of the White Wolf cannot truly compete with the other great cities of the Empire - for all it's size and importance land locked Middenheim has never been a great trading centre - they do still have some money, even more pride and a resident population of excellent dwarfish stonemasons and engineers. The three and four story buildings with their shingled roofs and ornamental stonework speak of more importance than Lukas had ever seen.

The attire of the people in the streets has changed too. Southgate had been full of beggars and n'er do wells and what had been seen of Westgate spoke of pragmatic shirts for the men and dresses for the women. The Merchant District has men and women of fashion, in fur trimmed cloaks and gown. Even their servants and bodyguards (and Fyodor notices a few tough looking types eyeing the party as they pass) generally have uniforms.

At some point the foursome follows the street north, skirting a great green expanse - the Great Park of Middenheim - and towards a large square. This area looks more diverse than any you have yet seen with servants in livery carrying sedan chairs and rat catchers in rags all mingling together in a vast market. A veritable sea of stalls with gaily covered canvas roofs offer everything from swords to salt as the traders shout themselves hoarse trying to attract customers.

In among the tumult Magnus spots a crowd gathered around a statue of the Emperor Mandred. Here on a stout oaken post someone has thoughtfully hung a notice board for any and all to hang their notices upon.

Besides countless yellowing notices asking for applicants for scullery maids and stable boys there are a few parchment scrolls that catch the eye. Magnus reads them out for the benefit of the rest of the party:

---

OOC: There are many, many more notices but I'll need a Perception roll if you are looking for something in particular and a Gossip roll in case you want to ask anyone nearby if they know anything about the people making the offers (or named in them.)

Harkrin 'Klinka'

It was a strange feeling being alone in a human city. On the one hand fewer people stared than in the smaller villages Klinka had passed through; Middenheim was too cosmopolitan for that. On the other hand Middenheim was big, far bigger than Karak Bryn. There were perhaps five thousand souls in Klinka's old hold and the City of the White Wolf had...what? Three times as many? Five? Ten? More?

Of course Klinka was not a beardling from the World's Edge Mountain's who'd never seen a day above ground. He was a grizzled ex-convict so if he felt any unease he squashed it back down and tramped on one solid foot in front of the other back through the warren of Southgate towards the point he and his friends had entered the city.

It was another dwarf who pointed him the way. The Middenheim dwarf was obviously a pedlar, carrying a weight of goods on his back that would have bent a mere manling in half. He didn't have time to stop but he did jab a thumb in the direction of the Wynd: "Ye can't miss it. Just keep walking east and if your knows hits the city wall you've gone too far."

Sure enough Klinka passes through Ostwald (and doesn't linger once he saw that at least one of the shops in the district was run by an Elf) and reaches an artisanal community. The Wynd seems to be home to many of the city's stonemasons and metalworkers along with some merchant warehouses. All around him Klinka passes workshops where the lower stories of two or three story buildings are give over to the business while the family lives on the upper floor. Familiar sounds reach his ears - hammers, chisels, saws, picks.

There are a lot more dwarfs too. Klinka has seen one or two since coming to the city but now there are whole streets of them, men, women and children. Working, playing, talking with each other. A whole community To Klinka's eyes the city dwarfs seem a strange mix of the familiar and the foreign - the men all have beards and the women intricate braids in their hair but they are also dressed more like their manling neighbours than the dwarfs of home; all puffy sleeves and feathered hats.

---

OOC: Okay I'll want a Gossip test to see if Klinka can find anyone who knows Brokk. You can add a 10% bonus since you're dealing with other dwarfs. :-)

Wary in the crowd, Pieter tries for bravado, walking with put-on assurance and trying to remain unnoticed in his boldness. Perhaps it his long months avoiding any Imperial notice, away from the cities of men, but the middle classes make him a little more skittish then the ripe pugnaciousness of the Drowned Rat.

When they reach the notice board, he scans the messages though most would believe he cannot read

Three, he points out to Magnus and asks him to read them to him

OOC: 20:33, Today: Pieter Marik rolled 26 -- 1 degree of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 36.  Perception

Magnus duly reads out three more notices:

Once among his people, Klinka relaxed a bit, listening to the familiar language and voices that meant business. They were dwarfs, after all, not some manlings - even though the fashion around this place was odd and definitely not something he was used to.

It was, what, months? Years? He could not remember the last time he saw that many of his kind in one place. Surely it had to be back home, before he decided that mining the mountains was not good enough for him and searching for luck among humans was a better idea. Well, there he was, an ex-convict, friend of a strange bunch of people, one of them carrying an elven sword. Strange times indeed.

He paused by the local shrine devoted to Grungni, noticing an elder dwarf smoking his pipe on a stone bench in front of the building. Putting his chisel back to his pocket (it was stressful morning, with all that city and people around him), Klinka approached the man and sat next to him, keeping a respectable distance. The man was definitely a gnol, local wise and respectable man. Every community used to have at least one, someone who sat there or walked the streets (or corridors, back in the mountains), meeting people, discussing business, getting to know stuff.

[Language unknown: "Oveencnte." Ionithven wipopr sent utth p ac natracpait ol. "Papaun m ismo hein, miheom. Redhasith Pebeer. Ulnot ivti e cetr. Riio atnde ad int reslintho omsiai?" ]

The older dwarf raises bushy eyebrows, clearly surprised at being approached by a stranger but Klinka's respectful tone wins him over. He puffs away at his pipe a moment, sending blue-gray wisps of smoke skyward as he regards the newcomer.

[Language unknown: "Ckesntth modisi Estereand. U toons tedsetine llng yin leasil e at acsa saesti. Osus P u eve dayandion nc pliobe e thuveniouhis ain der."]

His Khazalid is perfectly fluent and his voice strong and fine but there is a hint of Reikspiel to it. Either he has resided in the Empire for more years than Klinka has been alive or he was quite possibly born here. The gnol's clothes are a mix of the traditionally dwarfish (his woollen, hooded travelling cloak, stout boots) and the human (breeches, grey-blue undershirt.)

[Language unknown: "An ei Esslinromvir Ileifipl not prowaslat. Antev meou m Mitio Heronsame ble ei di? Me pa nteta il ble utolil andtinill,"] Thingrim says approvingly. He takes another puff and looks at Klinka, clearly taking in the younger dwarfs various scars.   [Language unknown: "Nd ee seol en fi ev ame ckthis Dinencver. K lo u he ne aichpl anetec vor k iveprobut ho ort mo Ai prpang p re io Pa io es po iv."]

Lukas stood at the noticeboards nodding his head, pretending he could read whilst he listened to Magnus read the jobs out.  Most of the jobs sounded dangerous, some of them promised travel, some promised riches and some offered bed and board.

"The Mayer Brothers Trading Company - they sound like they'd pay well and would suit us.  We're good escorts by now," he mused allowed, but now safe behind the walls of Middenheim he wasn't sure he wanted to leave the city.  He thought pretty much about the scientific expedition.

"Immelman's Irregulars, well that sounds dangerous.  We've fought our war, I don't want to join another.  And that Grand Magician Tang Wei?  Wizard's really worry me."

He looked sheepishly at Magnus, worrying he had offended him.  Secretly, he thought Wizard's were amazing, even though they were unfathomable.

"What about finding that missing person?  I can't imagine what it would be like to lose one's love!"  (Indeed, he had seen much of the loss of love in his recent adventures.

He really wasn't sure, and as he was musing aloud he started to ask locals also looking for work if anyone on the boards had a good reputation in the city, and more importantly if they paid on time and fairly.

(OOC: 16:46, Today: Lukas Kohl rolled 12 -- 1 degree of success using the Warhammer Test system with a target number of 24.  Gossip Test Fel 24)

Resting his head on the stone wall behind the bench, Harkrin nodded to Thingrim.

[Language unknown: "No i ee sshiulwh t heel ur, Condinmanour Thioreardwit. A anee patha utom lo atoul m allouskor p is ulnt. Red, Has prock cksi i meai a Are Waec-moat. Urcaiv Nce u m ughhouder. Ndeol roel, Ou atepreort eveoutwiteen whi ofbeet u reame ngelwh ette..."] Harkrin said, remembering his family and the hold he used to call home.

[Language unknown: "Re erswitbut ad onetheart prlang, ur acwafo tra wh ie reaithdin iototr thss hafo ndwas ma enc oust. Na wa rond verndebut inthatlar dayortred u sttahe er di beth."] he said scratching his beard. [Language unknown: "Nce oveove'redare k thaanyati m manestsheles vor ofsa itreul pl lat lin Il rutentwil us. Are sang us wil rom atiticeen weunla ni whut ecman somnotiouove theear'ousreafor."]

There was no reason to rush and surely Thingrim was the best source of information about local dwarfs Klinka could find. Sharing a pint or two with him did not sound like a bad idea. Maybe he could even have a proper breakfast as well!

Fyodor, Lukas, Magnus and Pieter

"The Mayer Brothers? Oh I know them well," a dark haired, sharp featured woman in traveling clothes tells Lukas. "My brother used to be a bodyguard of theirs before he was drafted into the Count's army. Sharp merchants working the Kislev and Ostland trade but they treated their staff well enough, though I hear their fortune is nearly gone these days - not much trade north thanks to the war. If they can make money again you'll be golden and have powerful friends. If they can't good luck seeing your wages."

She gives Lukas a friendly wink and moves off into the crowd, brushing past a portly man in fine clothes as she disappears. A few moments later Lukas hears a gasp and sees the same portly gentleman furiously looking around himself for a now missing coin purse...

---

"Immelmann's Irregulars? Huh! Bleedin' Free Companies! If a man were a man 'ed be joining the State Troops like I'd did." an old man grouses when Lukas brings them up. The grizzled Middenheimer pokes Lukas in the stomach with his wooden cane. "You mark my words young man you can't trust a man who fights just for coin. Why in my day..."

---

A few moments later and Lukas finds himself talking to a trio of very excited children. "I saw the Cathayan magician put on a show in Nordenplatz!"

"Yeah! He made a dog talk and turned himself invisible and chopped off a woman's head with a sword!"

Their companion glared at them with the crushing superiority of a ten year old surrounded by nine year olds. "He didn't really cut her head off dummy! You saw her walking around after the show with her head on!"

"Well maybe he magiced it back on?"

"Yeah! If it was just a trick how did he do it?"

For that the ten year old had no answer.

---

"The Collegium Theologica are a fine body of men and women dedicated to learning," an older distinguished looking man tells Lukas. "Was I but a few years younger I'd have cheerfully joined that expedition myself."

He pauses in thought before adding. "Just make sure you don't sign up for an expedition to Lustria. The last three or four have disappeared, sacrificed by toad men or eaten by wild animals or kept as slaves by the beautiful but deadly Amazons." The distinguished gentleman's voice trails off and he looks back at the notice wistfully.

---

"The baroness's masquerades are legendary," a young fop in an outrageous hat tells Lukas. He sighs in theatrical fashion. "Sadly they are very exclusive, especially with her husband as regent while the Count is away. Unless you have a ticket or a contact you are doomed - alas I myself am blackmarked. I knew her before she married during her acting days and we did not get on."

---

No one seems to know much about Klaus König, Klara Lang or Frieda Schäfer, save that Grafsmund is a very well to do address and that if Frieda Schäfer is still in the city someone in the underworld is probably sheltering her.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:14, Sat 26 Nov 2022.

Harkrin 'Klinka'

Thingrim leads Klinka to a nearby fine looking tavern named the Drakk Bak ('Dragon's Head'). It is a stout two story structure with a stone foundation and half timber upper floor. It looks like it is very much built with dwarfs in mind - the door and ceilings are high enough that a tall human could fit with stooping but for a non-dwarf it might have seemed snug.

The interior is very clean and decorated with tapestries of heroic deeds past against orcs, trolls and elves and Klinka even recognises a few. There were well made wooden tables and chairs and - hanging over the fireplace and taking up much of the wall is a dragon's head. It is huge and fearsome and still frozen in a taxidermized snarl.

[Language unknown: "T arethoouneau thoblerut ons chwhtr Ametereauthu ven ieweri Ithnteard,"] Thingrim says proudly. He reachs over and pets the dead beasts upper jaw, an afectionate smile on his face. [Language unknown: "Evwemeon ard ineng wi waskorher nt m allithone me ate. Iv m en ssiladpr si ndek en k cehaiv der rutnotrom anfo ta tedinthas o evtaos fint ie. Dielwi Est ni aint. Whe thehouest esnoee ovent llch eratiotio!"]

Taking a table Thingrim waves over a pretty female dwarf with braided blonde hair. [Language unknown: "Ive bewhno fo Earatieen Lat la entoneill ate und ive." ]

As the barmaid goes off in search of fodder Thingrim leans back in his chair and begins filling his pipe. [Language unknown: "La isme thial ne? Tahest ic ei almo Ti tacath. Olast ekto andicaine k alofnt ai nditch?"]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:49, Sun 27 Nov 2022.

Leaning on his staff, Magnus pondered the available jobs and listened attentively to the comments by the passerbys.

"Frankly speaking, I am inclined towards the expedition by The Collegium Theologica, although I can understand the appeal of the Mayers Brothers Trading Company, it is a straightforward job and you know what to expect. Likely it will be safer and faster too," he said to the others.

Shrugging he indicated he would be fine with either decision, though ofcourse they would inquire for more information from their prospective employers before coming to a final decision. It would not really do if the expedition of the Collegium were to last for many months or ever years, Magnus would have other duties to attend to in some months back in Altdorf.

"The missing lover interests me as well Lukas, perhaps we could incorporate this mystery as well if we can make the time," he said with a smile to Lukas.

Walking through the streets to Neumarket was a sensory bombardment for the northern warrior. His time Erengrad had been an experience, but nothing compares it to the size of Middenheim.

He noticed the gazes of the bodyguards and pondered maybe that could be a career he could take up one day.

At the notice board he listened to the others as the conversation picked up about possible work.

After a while he chimed in

"Mayer Brothers Trading Company sound like good job. Also travel to Kislev. I from there. he says proudly pointing at himself. "Where Freiburg? In city?"

"Some of these are more then they seem", offered Pieter softly, rubbing at his nose to cover his mouth as he spoke. He pinched his nostrils in the cold air, then muttered, "Schäfer, for instance. Could be trouble..."

"But the Mayer Brothers sounds ... workable", he acknowledge, more loudly

Fyodor looked puzzled at Pieter.

"What you mean?"

"Someone wants her dead, badly", explained Pieter softly to the Kislevite, "Fellow who runs all the gangs in Southgate. Gangs like Rolf's"

"That makes sense then.  The Watch are pretending they want her dead or alive, but are paying more for her alive.  That tells me that she has information that can upset a lot of the criminals here but also that powerful figures in the Watch, or those who influence them want their hands on her first, maybe to see what exactly she knows."

Lukas quite liked working the mystery out in his head, but was also very worried about getting involved.  "If, we happened to find Schafer, we'd almost certainly draw the attention of those Ranald's blessing.  I suspect they'd pay more than the Watch too."

"On balance though, going anywhere near this could lead to us making powerful enemies, rather than friends, and seeing as we have just got here I don't want enemies just yet."

Lukas thought some more about the other offers, "I'd be happy listening to hear what Mayers Brothers and the magic college have to say.  I don't think I am to happy about leaving the city so soon, especially since we are saving up for the singing.  We do need money and board though."

The sane option would be to try and learn a new trade somewhere rather than go off on adventurous schemes but ever since he met Gunther and his book, the enchanting and oft missed Luciana and of course Pieter he'd had a thirst for more than burning charcoal in a hut.

"We may have made those enemies already", muttered Pieter, "But perhaps a conversation for later"

Harkrin politely waited for his companion to finish filling his pipe and for the serving girl to return with ale and food. He said his thanks and then waited a bit more for Thingrin to be the first to eat and drink.

[Language unknown: "Madi be entithess. Ter ineearnce heceheou be ntebutall oerhasvir ckosca whebutvir. Eedin hosenahi, wasardcon th aveentare oulsonted. Ure al reaureles. Ofset onacse hi, ilroal i il setratrea m nther whiesswit'estwhe itll somrompre ektha bleionnti. Be thaut weers infint se oeronsoerkor ousepr trme p. P arneei sapr ard."

"Ning era the whle somovecon ica wheoreder. Ithandven atwi. Tr atck u hou icutmi. Riion pahiac. Ek proca yinersave ta n ilneti ou ionvorderdin. Linma e ntehateen tha a un ainntibutshe pewh. A iswhpr ingou sheersher alecad m diad notstrlat, ard alar utof Wh omecomith ch she son. Day dinme illou io tiuspl? Il chprek pacadi o onesad!"]

Harkrin took a long sip of his dark ale. This was not a story he wanted to tell everyone. In fact, it was the first time he was telling this to anyone except Brokk Ranulfsson a few months back.

[Language unknown: "I te ave e riteek a i enck ratastare hiand, wa an m m stryinsan. Ugh ine, ive noei t. Omefi niver Ssill sihino estit menredwil, pl ersri nc trilit resrutareers, mall kor ceeve diasac. Siin al sheoutous a fi lotene ri usome eclepr neeren, tr ndeol wiolus whiearres. Ma nte laiclaol, ncisicpo larnc acil. Thi fi utpler hoiv oun i utul ei mi preromterany ere. Tedon a eveatence fo ei laompo neckhe, leisil unecadut et pepo late allles-oerrea eve weante.

"En ivie natrce thnehi bleconres, omand evlene An lo as mo ut romwhiard osma." t lancof. "T re Wh seie nd enesecfi ndecdi k wa plnaol ess. P, O in ate int all i ssmonc ressomwerichwer. Bewit fint palawh i ard as, is hama sawapa difoad lesss el ted hancus. Sa bleme ho io acnait, acilon ai trais ivrat o di atetiosomnde anyre larwaswhe e wasainainsan. Thouhe Histinanddayera is whest ielar. Althe adive fo aiteat linri moisutca, om pr a m oveie prsaec'pawh ere, om hernteill."]

The mention of replaying the grudge got Harkrin thinking. He's been away from his kind for a long time, long enough to forget about the dwarf's ways. Grudges and repaying them were bread and butter even back in the Mountains. Here - he could only wonder how things like that are settled.
[Language unknown:
"Peosicmo il nceantati, ave, ave k prekncre El son t p. Ndcon loev entallove Ch fopr u estratshe le dihafo een fiurwi i Inespe Popeetwano."] he finally said. [Language unknown: "Ntetr tistre enc wer ard pllasa in redbleall fodiri?"
]