View Full Version : [WFRP] The Hour After Midnight
(OOC thread here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=134406))
Chapter I
A Wintry Welcome
The high-sided carts rattled along the rutted road, the bare trees to either side raising thickets of twigs like black, skeletal fingers against the clear sky. It had been a cloudless night, and the air was bitterly cold: the shadows of the Drakwald to either side seemed almost friendly, since the fathomless sprawl of the forest around the little caravan offered the only shelter from the wind. The carthorses plodded onwards with their great heads bowed, heavy hooves disturbing slicks of wet, dead leaves – the last leavings of autumn.
There were two carts, and two coachmen. The one who had named himself simply as “Hans” was in the lead, a face as lined and sour as a pickled lemon set with a fixed determination on the road ahead. The second man had said his name was Jurgen Mettrinker – a red-faced, rough-skinned man with a black, bushy beard and eyebrows to match. He seemed of a friendlier disposition than his colleague, and was engaged in an enthusiastic attempt to get the group who were riding behind him to divulge some morsel of gossip.
“You folks ever been to Delberz before?” the coachman asked. One of his passengers shook his head.
“Big place. Bigger now, with all them folks what ran from the fighting. Can’t say I blame ‘em.”
The man took a small swig from a flask at his belt.
“Goin’ to get bigger still, too, if ol’ Kemperbad has his way. The Church has got a lot ridin’ on these here shipments, y’know. Well, ‘course you do, that’s why they hired you. Goin’ to be the biggest Temple to Sigmar for leagues around. Maybe even as far as Altdorf.” He took another swig. “Biggest piece o’ luck for them, the Baron gettin’ hitched. I suppose you folks would know about that?”
Another shake of the head. Jurgen looked slightly disappointed.
“Neurich, I heard her name was. Elena Neurich. Very pretty, but her blood weren’t blue, so the Baron’s chums got in a bit of a strop. That was, ‘till they heard her daddy were so rich he could practic’lly buy their fancy manors from under ‘em.” The coachman cackled. “In she comes with a dowry fit fer the Emperor’s daughter, and within a couple o’ weeks, the Baron’s givin’ it all to von Kemperbad’s cathedral, ‘cos she wants it so. ”
Jurgen grinned widely.
“It’s all the same with these high-class ladies, eh? Gettin’ married off to men twice their age, and as soon as the ring’s on their finger, they’ve conveniently found religion.” He paused for a moment, a tinge of caution creeping into his voice. “Not that I’m not a religious man meself, you understand. Say my prayers every day, like the priest says.”
“Will you shut it, Jurgen?” muttered Hans, from the front. “I can’t hear myself think with your blethering.”
“And a good thing that is too!” retorted Jurgen, merrily. “You’d be bored to death!”
Hans seemed to stifle a snarl.
“In case you ain’t noticed, Herr Mettrinker,” he said, carefully and slowly, “the reason you’ve got passengers to jabber to is ‘cos the last two shipments what came down this road have gone missing. So maybe you could lay off the bottle for ten minutes and keep your mind on the job?”
Jurgen made a rude face at the man’s back, and took another, defiant swig from his flask. “Miserable bugger,” he muttered to himself under his breath. Lowering his voice, he turned to the passenger on his left.
“Where’re you from, then?”
Ahead, there was a sudden rustle – a swathe of fallen leaves exploded upwards in a cloud of dead vegetation, the thick rope that had been hidden beneath it pulling taut at chest-height across the road. The coarse hawser had been tied in irregular knots around a collection of sharpened branches and rusted iron spikes, presenting a wall of ugly points to the oncoming carts. Hans’ horse whinnied in alarm, turning aside and making the heavily-laden cart’s wheels slip briefly on the wet leaves – his reactions dulled, Jurgen nearly drove his own straight into its back, heaving hard on the reins at the last moment. The man’s torrent of curses was blotted out by a sound from the darkness of the trees – the braying of some wild beast, unsettlingly close.
Emerging from the undergrowth with a crackle of twigs snapping underhoof, the creature loomed into view, a pale spectre beneath the shadows of the forest: its fur was a silky white, its unusual cleanliness a striking contrast to the filthy berdish axe the monster hefted in its disturbingly human hands, and the blackened, almost certainly looted mail tunic that hung around its ribcage. The sight of the caravan’s guards seemed to give it pause, its bestial face contorting in a yellow-fanged snarl – behind it, a smaller, almost child-like mutant was grimacing and capering in the shadow of its master, jabbing in the direction of the carts with a crude spear. Ahead, on either side of the road, horned shadows like the first beast were looming out of the trees, metal glinting in their hands.
Seeing the weapons in the humans’ hands, the leader made up its mind – pointing its rusted blade towards the carts, it brayed a command to its followers before swinging forwards into the charge itself...
Exeson
2009-12-09, 08:45 AM
Ithelus sits in the wagon, enjoying the idle chatter of the driver, and wondering if the man was ever in a sober state. He fiddles with his dice and every now and then flicks a glance over to Illiiya.
At the appearance of the beastmen Ithelus jumps with shock. 'My, he's a big one! Um... Doesn't look to friendly either!'
goblinpaladin
2009-12-09, 09:36 AM
Lothar's bearded face splits into a grin as the beasts charge forth and the other guards leap (mostly metaphorically) into action. "North," he mumbles around his pipe.
He raises the gun he has been carrying in his lap, takes careful aim at the horned shadow on the right of the carts- the instant the thing steps into the mottled sunlight the Drakwald grudgingly allows, he fires. The crack is loud, an unmistakably human sound after the roaring of the lead-creature's command...
Ranged Attack [Aim (Sharpshooter +20%)= BS 55 [roll0]
In case of damage (Impact weapon; roll twice and pick the highest): [roll1]
[roll2]
Another_Poet
2009-12-09, 12:01 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
The ridiculously tall youth with the stubbly face and the neck tattoo has been an alright companion. Not much of a talker in general, he has managed to keep evenings entertaining with songs, dances and various tumbling feats. For most of the day he's just been slumped in his seat looking bored and surly. His hat (http://www.talltoad.net/images/Lg/Robin-brFG.jpg) is even tilted down over his face as if he's sleeping.
When the rope comes up and the creatures show themselves, he wastes no time. Without changing his posture, he pulls his blunderbuss with his right hand. Resting the gun across his lap he points its muzzle vaguely toward the closest Gor (the oner to the north) and pulls the trigger. The resulting explosion echoes from distant hills and reverberates through the smokey air. If the target isn't dead, it's likely deaf. But then, so is the Sparrowhawk.
No sooner is the trigger pulled than the young man disappears from his seat. In the cloud of smoke, it's possible that no one saw him vault up and over the walls of the wagon.
Half action: fire at northeast Gor
Half action: vault into the back of the wagon
agility vs. 34 [roll0]
concealment (don't have skill, do have +10% for being in a rural area) [roll1]
BloodyAngel
2009-12-09, 12:02 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
The slender elven woman had spent most of the trip in huddled silence, speaking to no one. She handled the cold well enough for someone of her delicate frame, but even still... she was shivering.
Around her the air hung heavy, and she shivered, though not from the cold. The creature's braying cry set the spark in the nervous anticipation she had gnawing at her for the last half hour. She shrieked as the beast burst from the woods, and huddled down lower in the corner of the wagon.
Illiiya isn't fierce. She's going to recoil in fear and hold action. If one of the beasts draws near the wagon, she'll lash out at it with her magic in a panic, but otherwise, she's very, very nervous about calling to the winds.
Should one get close enough to attack her or Ithelus, she'll use magic dart on it.
Casting roll: , [roll]1d10
Damage: (if it works) [roll1]
If she has time to channel, she will, but I'm guessing since she's holding action and doing something reflexive, that she can't. So... fingers crossed!
Edit: Crap! Typo! I can't fix that roll now. Should I roll in a new post or just use the 8?
Exeson
2009-12-09, 12:15 PM
Ithelus frowns and pulls out his sickle and unsheathes it. He then places it on a stone next to him and draws a Throwing Knife, slightly cowering behind the wagon board. He looks to Illiiya, 'It'll be ok, don't worry. Our friends look tough.' At this range he is not much use, but he can at least be ready he hopes. 'My... what a big, er, scary big axe he has.'
Not much Ithelus can do at this range, for the moment all he is doing is drawing a throwing knife to use next turn and then taking cover behind the lip of the wagon as much as he can, in case of ranged weaponry.
amgodtic
2009-12-09, 12:28 PM
Seth Adelbert
Seth sighs and shakes his head. "I suppose it would've been too much to ask for a quiet trip" He then spurs on his horse with a hoarse cry and charges the leader, lance held forth eagerly
Seth surveys the available targets, and charges with his lance at the leader (if still up, otherwise the guy next to him)
Melee Attack: WS 35 [roll0] (I don't know the effect of Specialist Weapon Group, and the online doc is loading too slowly at the moment; will edit with that info if it loads in the foreseeable future)
In case of damage: [roll1] (and again, I don't know demilance bonus damage, or if there's some sort of extra bonus for charge, anything. From this point onward, I will *leave* the document pre-loaded on my desktop so this doesn't happen again :smallannoyed:)
amgodtic
2009-12-09, 01:04 PM
Horse:
Melee Attack: WS 25 [roll0]
In case of damage: [roll1]
The bellow of the caravan’s blackpowder weapons filled the air: Lothar’s musket-ball chewed a spray of sawdust out of the tree-trunk to the left of his target, while the deafening blast of Raffy’s blunderbuss enveloped his own in a cloud of flying shrapnel. Blood running from a dozen cuts across its filthy hide, the mutant staggered back in a cloud of gunsmoke, shaking its head to clear the ringing in its ears.
Taking advantage of the smoke, Raffy stood and swung himself into the back of the cart, trying to buy time to reload – the beast’s head snapped round at the movement, its bloodied snout twisting into a snarl as it hefted its rusted axe. With a roar, it sprung forwards, Hans standing up in the driver’s seat with a dagger trembling in his hand – the beastman’s leap was ill-judged, however, its balance still thrown by the blunderbuss’ blast. Horned head and bestial jaws smacked into the rim of the driver’s seat, and the beastman fell back into the mud of the road with a pained yelp.
On the other side of the road, Seth was less lucky – the mail-armoured leader ploughed into him, the jagged edge of its two-handed axe gouging into the metal of the squire’s shield. The white-furred monstrosity brayed in pain as the human’s spear stabbed back in reply, piercing the chain links of its mail shirt – from the front, the second of its followers cannoned into Adelbert’s horse, a dull machete carving into the animal’s forequarters and making the creature rear and whinny in panic.
Behind the two horned monsters, the little one scurried back along the road, keeping clear of the horse’s flailing hooves – more clearly visible now, it resembled a gamey human child, its skin covered with a thin layer of sharp, bristly fur. Little nubbins of horn pushed up from beneath the skin of its forehead, framing bloodshot eyes and needle teeth – catching sight of movement from the back of the wagon, it looked up at Ithelus, grinning and gripping its spear as it sensed prey that might be too weak to fight...
Another_Poet
2009-12-09, 01:42 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy edges into the far corner of the wagon as he uses his teeth to pull the stopper out of his powderhorn. With deft precision he pours the black powder into the bell-shaped mouth of his hand cannon, measuring by eye.
If possible I'd like to move 1 square south (to be farther from the nearby Gor)
Reloading: round 1/3 complete
Exeson
2009-12-09, 01:47 PM
Ithelus gulps, things are getting close. 'Illiiya, stay safe, help Seth if you can, but don't get too close' He gulps slightly and fixes the childlike creature in his sights. He hesitates slight, but winces and forces himself to fling the knife at it.
Half action to aim at the Ungor, then standard attack with throwing knife.
Attack [roll0] BS= 42 (+10=52)
Damage if hit: [roll1]
BloodyAngel
2009-12-09, 03:18 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
No! No! Go away! Illiiya yelled at the creature, scurrying to the other side of the wagon. Don't make me do it! It will find me! I don't want it to find me!
Illiiya will move to whichever side of the wagon the critter isn't on... and ready an action to blast it if it gets up here and attacks her or Ith. Again, with magic dart. (Hopefully, I'll get the rolls right this time)
Casting roll! and [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]
Can spells Ulric's Fury? I can't recall. I doubt I'll roll a 10, but I'd like to know and how it works if they do. A Willpower roll? A second casting roll?
amgodtic
2009-12-09, 03:36 PM
Seth starts to look a tad panicked; he's not entirely certain what Illiya's combat capabilities are, but she obviously wants no part of it. "HEY! HEY! ME! Yea, you dumb bastards, UP HERE!"
Attack: WS 35 [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Horse:
Attack: Ws 25[roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
And ready parry
The Ungor hissed as the knife flashed across the open air between it and the cart, slicing a bloody line across its bony shoulder - fixed on Ithelus, its red eyes narrowed, looking for a way to exact its revenge. Slowly, its gaze shifted to the top of the muddy cartwheel, its bestial features taking on an almost calculating look.
The white-furred beastman roared, whirling its axe over its head to strike up at the squire's neck - Seth ducked in the saddle, the great lump of iron whistling inches above his scalp as he fought to keep his whinnying horse in check.
goblinpaladin
2009-12-09, 05:58 PM
Grumbling curses, Lothar drops his firearm onto his seat and grabs up his kite shield. Jumping from the seat, he quickly hooks the shield onto his left arm and draws one of his swords in swift, practised movements and moves cautiously against the Gor currently shredding the young squire's horse.
'Beastling! How's about a taste of manflesh?' he shouts, the shield close to his face, the sword ready to strike.
The beastman swung round, opening its fanged maw wide and roaring in Lothar’s face. The soldier grimaced at the spray of spittle and halitosis coming over the creature’s yellowed fangs – his moment of revulsion cost him dear, as the mutant’s cleaver-like blade came slicing in over the top of his raised shield, carving a bloody gash into his scalp and throwing him back against the cart. Head swimming, Lothar blinked furiously, trying to clear his eyes of the hot, stinging blood that was dribbling over his forehead – sensing victory, the monster brayed again, advancing on its prey. To his right, Seth stabbed viciously at the mail-armoured leader, but to no avail – the hulking beastman stepped back out of the path of the spear, readying its axe for another blow.
Tensing its hairy legs, the Ungor scuttled towards Ithelus, swarming spider-like over the cartwheel to pull itself up over the wagon’s side – its toothily grinning face rose above the planking like some nightmarish jack-in the box, lifting its spear in its free hand to pin the elf to the cart’s floor. With a yell, Illiiya stretched out her hand, words she barely understood forcing their way free of her throat – there was a flash, a stink of burning hair, and the wiry monster toppled backward, landing with a distinct thud in the mud below. It was still alive, rolling back and forth with shrill screams as it clutched at the blistering skin of its face...
amgodtic
2009-12-09, 06:55 PM
Seth whips his head around at the sound of the axe blow, and gapes momentarily at the reversal; then resumes his verbal bombardment at his foes.
Attack (same target as before): WS 35 [roll0]
Damage: [roll]1d10+3[\roll]
Horse:
Attack (if possible, the beast on Lothar): WS 25 [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]
And ready parry (if at all possible, to protect Lothar; don't know if the rules allow for that.
amgodtic
2009-12-09, 06:57 PM
...not sure why the dmg roll didn't work
[roll0]
goblinpaladin
2009-12-09, 07:31 PM
"Manann's blood and Shallya's tits, that hurt! You little..." Lothar's pain-filled voice trails off into various obscenities in Reikspeil and badly pronounced Kislevite. Blood pours from the scalp wound, creating a mask of red; he hefts his shield into place defensively, but his sword is beginning to waver.
Another_Poet
2009-12-09, 07:39 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
The Sparrowhawk remains concealed within his nest. He has plugged the powderhorn again and simply drops it, trusting its shoulder strap to keep it close to hand. No sooner is it gone than the pouch of shot is in his hand. With his teeth he tears open a moderately sized paper packet and upends it over the muzzle of his gun. Dozens of lead balls skitter down. The wide, bell-like design of the blunderbuss makes it a simple matter to get the shot in quickly and easily.
As always, he admires the cheap, low-grade ammunition as it falls into the gun. The sign of truly bad shot (such as this) is improper filing. Fresh lead balls come out of their clay mould with a little line around them caused by the seam in the mould itself. A good metallurge will file off the line, leaving a smooth spherical shot. But this was cheap shot with the lines still on - the imperfections are terrible for any kind of precise gun, but the 'buss is anything
but precise.
Raffy is sure that the lines increase the size and pain of the wounds the balls cause. They cause the flesh to rip more and the blood to come out faster. Plus, every time he relieves himself he makes sure to run his unwashed hands through a pouch of shot. He grins as he thinks about the filthy, bleeding Gor just outside the wagon.
Reloading: round 2/3 complete
BloodyAngel
2009-12-10, 02:14 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Leave him alone! The elven woman will yell ina panic, the air around her suddenly growing cold. Shay'taan toren i' veshk!
The winds swirled around her, literally... as the screeching of things unseen could be faintly heard behind the swirl and lash of the frigid air. Her eyes unfocused, as the words seemed to pour from her entirely on their own, and with one outstretched hand, they were loosed. The wind rushed across the wagon in a cacophony of faint, inhuman shrieks. It surged across the ungor, whipping around the creature even as it threw the beast from the wagon. For several agonizing seconds, the frigid winds whipped around it as it lay on the ground, the shrieking building to a maddened crescendo and bloody cuts and tears bursting open across the creature's body. It was as if a dozen tiny claws or tore at the beast, ripping it's flesh open in a score of shallow wounds.
Illiiya stood in the wagon, watching the ungor's panicked attempt to fight back against whatever was hurting it to no avail. It could not even see the cause of the wounds... but it felt them. Hidden from him just beyond sight amidst the freezing winds.
Run! Run away! Illiiya said to the beast, a bizarre mixture of pleading and demanding, Make me do this no more! Please...
That was the recap of Illiiya's magic dart. Cool stuff eh? For the rest of the game, it shall act like shrieking razor wind, hurting people by the combined damage of dozens and dozens of small cuts torn in them. That's about as badass and creepy as I can make a power that ultimately boils down to "id10+3" damage. Let me know if it's a bit too much.
Also when her turn comes up THIS round.... she's standing up so she can see the ungor better... and readying an action to hurt it again if it doesn't abandon it's attack on the wagon. If it tries to get back up here, she'll reluctantly "dart" it again.
If it comes up. Casting roll! [roll0] and [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]
I understand that Illiiya doesn't HAVE to use dark magic, but considering where she learned how to cast in the first place, I'd say it's more instinctive to her than not. It will probably take a lot of effort for her to learn to cast WITHOUT drawing on the Dhar. Plus, it makes her magic wildly powerful and very, very dangerous to use, which is pretty much appropriate for her. She's kinda terrified of her own magic... thinking that using it lets the "things" that haunt her in the dark see her.
Exeson
2009-12-10, 04:32 PM
Ithelus snarls slightly at the obvious and very real distress that Illiiya is in. He grabs his sickle and with his resolve strengthened he launches himself over the side of the wagon, aiming to land feet first on the vile creature's face.
Grabbing the sickle then vaulting onto the beastman.
Agility test: [roll0] (49)
Dropping lithely over the side of the cart, Ithelus landed cat-like in the mud of the road, the still-shrieking Ungor rolling out from under his descending boots – scrambling upright, it held its spearpoint out between itself and its attacker, suddenly much warier of its prey.
There was a terrified yell of “Help!” from somewhere behind them – both combatants looked round to see Jurgen running down the road, heading away from the caravan as fast as his legs could carry him. Its stomach rumbling, the Ungor shot one last craven glance at Ithelus before turning and bounding after the man – the Elf lunged at the fleeing beast, the blade of his sickle hooking across the back of the thing’s bestial leg. Muscle parted beneath metal, the sickle’s edge tearing across bone – the creature collapsed with a hideous howl, blood fountaining from the wound as it rolled and thrashed in the dirt. Within seconds, its movements had stilled, its corpse still twitching slightly as the blood pumping from its mangled leg turned the mud of the road red.
To Ithelus’ left, the Bestigor howled as Seth’s spear stabbed into its shoulder, piercing its rusted mail again – blood running from its wounds, it swung its cumbrous weapon in attempted retribution, the squire’s horse prancing back out of the path of the blow. Backed against the trapped carthorses, Lothar huddled behind his shield, his assailant’s blows clattering from the scarred metal – the soldier flicked his head in frustration, trying to clear the dripping blood from his eyes once again.
On the other side of the road, the victim of Raffy’s first shot had hauled itself to its hooves – with a hungry snarl, it gripped the edge of the driver’s seat, heaving itself up onto the grubby planks. Seeing his chance, Hans lunged – the monster saw him coming, ducking under the dagger’s wild swing and propelling itself forwards with horns lowered. The coachman gave an agonised scream as the curved spikes of bone gouged into his gut, blood drenching his tunic – just barely keeping his feet, he staggered back, clutching the edge of the cart with one hand as he held out his dagger towards the beast with the other. Braying in triumph, the beastman advanced on the wounded man, the penned horses behind it tossing their heads and rearing in terror at its presence...
Exeson
2009-12-10, 05:55 PM
Ithelus cries out slightly at the sight of the blood. A lot of blood. He barely manages to hold back his stomachs contents and the blood squirted out of the high-pressure artery. So much blood. Ithelus whips round to focus on something else, anything else. He focus on the Gor leader and curses, before rushing forward, swinging him sickle.
Charge attack at the Gor leader. (A pretty risky move I know, but hey, looks like things are getting a bit risky.)
[roll0] WS = (35+10 = 45)
Damage if hit : [roll1]
amgodtic
2009-12-10, 06:37 PM
The accumulating injuries weighing on his mind, Seth's taunts and barks dwindle to half-hearted moans and cries of frustration, rage and fear. He continues to assail the leader, in a frenzied attempt to get through to the one threatening Lothar
Continue to full attack the same guy
WS 35: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Horsse:
WS 25: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Aaaand ready parry.
Another_Poet
2009-12-10, 10:03 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy's pouch of shot is closed once again. With a simple blunted stick he rams the shot down the barrel, tamping it tight against the charge and makes sure he sees a puff of black powder spray out of the breech. He crams his match into the flint and ***** the hammer.
Hearing Hans' scream from the front, Raffy curses to himself. Why didn't he run? Goddamn brave peasants. It doesn't occur to him that he is technically a peasant - brave or not - as well. He thinks of himself as a burger and that's that.
"Run for it, Hans!" he bellows, and leaps up onto the front wall of the wagon.
Finished reloading - 3/3
I presume I can't shoot this round? Even if not, may I leap up onto the wall of the wagon so I am looking down at the beast? I'm hoping to at least draw its attack away from Hans, even if I myself cannot attack till next round.
agility 34: [roll0]
goblinpaladin
2009-12-11, 12:40 AM
Blood pours down the former soldier's face as he tries to find footing to avoid the repeated slashes of the mutant's rusted cleaver. Pressed against the terrified carthorses, he had no room to maneuver and is forced to do little more than cower behind his shield as the grunting, hairy creature batters at his shield. The entire world narrowing to a translucent red haze, Lothar finds it increasingly difficult to block the thing's strikes.
He mutters a barely audible and not entirely gentle prayer to Shallya (for the blood flow to stall) and to Ranald (that the creature would slip and break a kneecap).
"Get this thing off me! It'd be real nice!" he calls, his voice distorted by effort.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-11, 04:18 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
I'm not certain if Illiiya's up yet, but I'm going to post her eventual action before I go to sleep. If it's Illiiya's turn, she will do this immediately!
Illiiya looked about the scene, oddly less phased by the blood and carnage than one might expect. Her own spells scared her more. The beast things would kill her... but the dark "things" that she could feel watching her made her shudder. Even now she could feel as if something lurked behind her... though she hadn't the will to turn and face it. Her allies fought desperately, and she feared that without her interference, one of them may soon die. Nervously, she choked down her terror, and began to speak.
All in my head. All in my head. All in my head. All in my head. All in my head. All in my head. She muttered to herself, desperately trying to convince herself of it... as if speaking the mantra enough would make it truth.
With shaking hands, she reached to the sky... calling out to the winds again as she prayed to any god that would hear her that things that flitted at the corners of her vision took no notice of her.
Moving in the wagon to where she can see the Gor trying to kill Lothar if she has to.
If she can see him from here, Channelling instead! [roll0] (51) Casting Roll! [roll1] or [roll2] (+1 if I can channel and I succeed at it)
Magic "dart" damage: [roll3]
Edit: Nope. Spell fail either way. More fluff!
She chanted her spell, feeling the winds swirl and gather. Try though she might to focus, she could feel them there. They were watching her... eager... waiting for her to falter. For a moment she felt the kiss of fire across her skin, and heard the shrieking of untold horrors around her as she sky began to fade to red as blood. In a panic, she froze... halting her spell midway through and faltering in her incantation to crouch in the wagon with her arms curled over her head, recoiling from the horrible things waiting for her.
No! No more! Please! Make it stop! She muttered, her voice shaky and strained, It hurts... It hurts...
The white-furred beastman snarled as Ithelus careered wildly into its side, sickle flailing – the grimy haft of its axe slammed up, battering the curved blade aside. Shrieking something in its own guttural tongue, it turned its attention to the elf. Ithelus howled in pain as the axe’s wicked edge gouged into the meat of his arm, sending him staggering back with blood drenching his shredded sleeve.
On the other side of the road, Hans looked up at the shout of his name – remembering the first blast of the youth’s blunderbuss, he made a half-hearted feint to the left before dropping backwards off the edge of the cart, the beastman before him braying in frustration as its axe slashed against thin air. Leaping off the edge of the driver’s seat, it turned to its right, seeing the carter trapped against the rearing horses of the second wagon – with something uncannily like a human grin, it lunged, Hans turning in time to catch its descending wrist with both hands. Muscles bulged beneath the thing’s matted fur, the glinting axe-blade edging down...
The bloodied Bestigor avoided Seth’s stabbing spear again, its horned head turning between its mounted prey and the bleeding Ithelus – on its right, its brother kept up its furious assault on Lothar, splinters flying from the soldier’s shield as the thing’s rusted blade hammered down again and again. Praying it did not have the wits to change tack, Lothar backed up as far as he could, shield arm still held high.
amgodtic
2009-12-11, 08:45 AM
Seth continues his desperate assault, it being the soundest strategic decision.
Not much to say; this is really all Seth can do
Attack: WS 35 (not counting any "flanking" modifiers) [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Horse:
Attack: WS 25 (Also flanking...?) [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Another_Poet
2009-12-11, 11:28 AM
Raffy the Sparrhowhawk
Raffey puts a hand on the wagon wall and vaults up atop it. Leering down at the monster he takes aim, making sure he's on an angle so that Hans will not be caught in the shrapnel. He lowers the bell-shaped barrel will he can just see the beast's scalp over it, and gently pulls the trigger.
Agility v. 34 [roll0]
If he fails to leap up, he will consider shooting through the wagon wall - if the gaps between the slats are wide enough to make it realistic. Otherwise he'll have to hold off till he can get a shot I guess.
Damage (if fired): [roll1]
Next round I intend to attack with my sword - can I holster my 'buss after firing, or am I out of actions? (I'm not trying to fanaggle extra actions here, I'm just not real familiar yet with how much you can do in a round in this system.)
Exeson
2009-12-12, 10:23 AM
Ithelus screams as the weapon slices through his skin and muscle. Almost faltering from the pain he stumbles backwards a few steps and staggers to a halt. With a look of determination He whips out a dagger and levels his sickle a the beastman, his arm swaying slightly.
Drawing a throwing knife/dagger in off-hand, giving me a free parry each turn. also taking defensive stance to try and keep myself alive. I just want to help give a flanking bonus.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-12, 11:48 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Ithelus' scream of pain snapped her from her cowering. Panic ran through her as she realized his plight. Ithelus was getting hurt. He might get killed! Sweat beaded on her brow as she peered over the wagon to see.
No! No no no no no no! She muttered to herself. No! I don't want to... please don't make me! It hurts!
The beastman advanced on Ithelus threateningly. She could barely think. He was the only one she had... she did not want him to die. But the things were right there... waiting.... watching her. They scared her more than death. Death was an end to suffering. Not them. They were a beginning.
Steeling herself, she stood from the wagon and began to channel... her slender body shaking like that of a scared child. It was for Ithelus. She could not bear to watch him die. He was the only one who had been kind to her.
The winds surged around her in a torrent that only she could hear. The screeches of the things beyond sight flitted to her ears, and she shook. Struggling to guide them, she held her arms out towards the monster, and begged that the wind would listen to her call.
Magic Dart at the beastman who's hurting Ithelus! Or at least, she's trying.
Move action: Channeling. [roll0] (51)
Casting roll: [roll1] or [roll2] with a +1 to the highest if the channeling roll succeeds.
Damage: [roll3]
Let's hope this works.
The Bestigor gave a distorted bleat of confusion as the air around it grew cold, its sleek white fur standing on end – it shook its head like an ox bothered by flies as thin cuts slashed across its thick hide, droplets of viscous blood beading from the dark lines. Turning its malevolent gaze on Ithelus, it seemed to blame the elf for this misfortune, hefting its axe and lurching forwards to strike – spurring his horse forwards, Seth gave a shout, slamming the butt-end of his spear down hard on the creature’s thick temple. Staggering sideways, it gave a howl of pain, blood running from the corner of its bestial mouth as it turned to snarl at the squire.
Behind them, there was a deafening bang – the side of the lead cart vanished in a sudden plume of grey gunsmoke as Raffy’s reloaded blunderbuss went off inches from his target’s skull, the lethal spray of shot shattering the Beastman’s skull and stripping it of half its flesh in one simultaneous roar. The shrapnel-riddled corpse swayed for a moment, axe still upraised over Hans – with a thud, it fell to its knees, before keeling over face-first into the mud.
The beastman facing Lothar stepped back at the report of the gun, turning to look in the direction of its fallen brother – its bloodshot eyes flicked back in the direction of the woods behind it, its blade lashing out almost instinctively in the direction of the cornered soldier as Lothar made a probing jab with his sword. As far as the beasts possessed any reason at all, Fischer could tell the only thing keeping this one in the fight were the howls of its leader...
Exeson
2009-12-12, 12:50 PM
Taking heart from the death of another of the foul creatures and resolve from the support of Illiiya, knowing how hard it was for her Ithelus pushed forwards. He pestered the massive beastman, his sickle dancing through the air around the creature's head, never threatening but always there.
Parrying stance and defensive stance.
amgodtic
2009-12-12, 01:59 PM
Seth is only tangentially aware of the tide turning in his sides favor; he relaxes his assault slightly, urging his steed forward to attack first, so that if it manages to bring down his opponent, he can quickly move forward to turn the other's attention to himself.
Horse:
Attack: WS 25 +10 outnumbering [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Seth, second:
Attack: WS 35 +10 outnumbering [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Another_Poet
2009-12-12, 04:18 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Hurling his spent blunderbuss down amidst the stone blocks, Raffy decides the odds are good enough for close engagement. More importantly, some of these ugly stinkers might get away if he doesn't move quick.
He leaps the wall of the wagon, draws his sabre and moves to cut off the nearest beast.
Free action - drop weapon
Half action - draw sword
Half action - move; agility 34 [roll0]
I would like to move to a square SOUTH of Beast#2, *if* there are no AoO rules. If moving past this creature is going to get me killed, then I'll just move up next to him instead.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-12, 07:03 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Shakily, Illiiya lowered her hands. She was too frayed to use the winds properly... The beast had not even seemed to feel her last attempt, and the things around her were all to anxious for her to try again, and falter.
Panickedly, she looked about the wagon for something she could do to help. The fight seemed to be going against them, but the beasts were still standing and fighting, and that means that someone could still be killed. She looked at the short blade that Ithelus had given her to defend herself with. She was no great warrior... did she dare try and fight?
The creatures were not relenting. Even if she armed herself, she would be no use in the fray and she knew it. The idea of leaping in against the beasts, unarmored and poorly trained scared her less than what she knew would become of her if she drew too much more on the winds. A moment of indecision passed, before she tried her hand, one more time. She could not just watch them die.
Second verse, same as the first. I just know I'm going to miscast sooner or later! Dart on the one attacking Ithelus!
Channeling. [roll0] (needs a 51)
Casting roll. [roll1] or [roll2]
Damage. [roll3]
Fingers crossed. :smalleek:
Edit: YES! With the +1 from channeling, I JUST made that! *Happy dance!*
Vaulting over the wall of the wagon, Raffy gave a yelp of alarm as his foot caught on the edge – stretching out his arms to keep the blade of his sword away from his body, the youth landed face-down on the road, the wheel-rutted mud welcoming him with a wet squelch. The noise caught the attention of Lothar’s opponent, however – its eyes flicking between the cursing man in the mud and its own resolute opponent, it began to back off, rusted blade still warily upraised between itself and Lothar. Shaking the blood from his eyes, the soldier made a testing lunge, his own sword meeting the beastman’s notched cleaver with a peal of meeting iron – making up its mind, the mutant pushed hard on the locked blades, the force of the shove sending Lothar stumbling backwards. In an instant, the beast had turned, two long bounds carrying it into the shadows of the trees.
The Bestigor gave a howl of fury as its follower fled – hemmed in by its own enemies, it hefted its axe again, jerking it threateningly in the direction of Seth and Ithelus whenever its circling attackers drew near. There was a second chill in the air, the monster braying in powerless rage as unseen claws slashed its muzzle – blood dripped from its distorted face, the mutant shaking its heavy skull like a dog to clear its eyes as its enemies closed in. Still it held out, ducking under the squire’s jabbing spear to swing its weapon high at the rider’s head – Adelbert’s horse skittered away, the heavy blade rushing through air alone.
Far from the fighting, meanwhile, Hans had reached the rope – clutching his dagger, he began to saw through the coarse fibres, the horses of the wagon behind him whinnying eagerly at the sight...
amgodtic
2009-12-13, 01:53 PM
Seth continues his assault on the Bestigor, eager for this business to be done with
If Bestigor is still up, Seth attacks first; if he's not, Seth charges down the ungor and attacks:
Attack: WS 35 (possibly +10 2v1) [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
If Bestigor is still up, Horse attacks as well; if not, either because he was already down or Seth finished him, horse moves up to Ungor (in which case, I'm not clear if he gets to attack)
Attack: WS 35 (possibly +10 2v1) [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Exeson
2009-12-13, 04:22 PM
Ithelus dips and ducks under the swings of the Beastigor's axe, relying on his elven grace and inborn agility to keep him alive. Again he only feints with his sickle, his wounds too bad for him to risk another injury.
Same as last two rounds.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-13, 09:33 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Only one left and it was fleeing. Illiiya crouched back down in the wagon with a shudder. The others could handle the one that remained... it was badly outnumbered and attacked on all sides. She dared not call to the winds again. Already she could hear them screeching... calling... mocking her and pleading with her to try once more. She knew they were there... just out of sight. She knew they were watching her, and waiting... looming where she could not see.. always at the fleeting edge of her vision. She crouched down in the wagon to shiver and collect herself... wishing with everything she had that they would simply go away.
Deep down... she knew better.
Illiiya's had enough. No more channeling. She's going to crouch down and take a little personal time. I guess we can treat that as full defense?
In any case.... yeah. Good luck down there guys!
Another_Poet
2009-12-14, 05:08 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy splats into the mud half-on the corpse of the beast he just shot. He looks around to see if anyone noticed, and gives it a few stabs to make it look like he was just making sure it was dead.
Scrambling to his feat, he charges after the beast man who is trying to get away.
Courtesy stabs: for show only :)
Half action: Stand
Half action: run after beast man
It sound like there is not such a thing as a Charge action, where I can both move and attack, but just in case there is:
[roll0] vs 31
damage [roll1] (str bonus is 3 if that matters)
Stumbling to his feet, Raffy’s eyes fixed on the fleeing Gor – lifting his broadsword, he charged after it at full pelt, ducking in among the shadows of the tree-branches as the thing began to vanish into the darkness of the forest. Turning with a roar of fury at the smooth-skin on its tail, the beast lashed out, its rusted blade a glinting blur in the gloom – the weapon glanced the side of Raffy’s skull, sending the youth staggering sideways with hot blood running down the side of his face. Hearing the shouts of the other humans behind it, the beastman hesitated for the merest moment before turning to flee again.
It was a mistake - the Sparrowhawk's broadsword darted out, sinking deep into the mutant's side. Its howl of agony echoing among the gnarled trunks, the monster bounded away into the gloom, cloven hooves carrying deeper into the trees with inhuman speed...
Leaving the boy to his chase, Lothar sank down on one knee, tearing a strip of cloth from his doublet and beginning to bandage the bloody wound on his scalp – on his left, Hans finished cutting through the rope that blocked the road, the coachman having to seize the reins of the lead carthorses as they tried to start forwards. On his right, the Bestigor still held out, shouldering its way through Seth’s blows to bring its axe crashing down on the squire’s frantically upraised shield – the heavy blade bit deep, splinters flying from an impact that made Adelbert rock back in the saddle. Wrenching its weapon free, the white-furred monster snarled at the circling Ithelus, trying to ward the elf off as it readied itself for another swing at the squire.
amgodtic
2009-12-14, 07:23 PM
Seth continues his assault on the Bestigor, eager for this business to be done with
This is mostly copy-pasted from my previous post; seems silly to come up with 30 colorful expressions for the same 10 second action.
If Bestigor is still up, Seth attacks first; if he's not, Seth charges down the ungor and attacks:
Attack: WS 35 (possibly +10 2v1) [rol]1d100[/roll]
Damage: [rol]1d10+4[/roll]
If Bestigor is still up, Horse attacks as well; if not, either because he was already down or Seth finished him, horse moves up to Ungor (in which case, I'm not clear if he gets to attack)
Attack: WS 35 (possibly +10 2v1) [rol]1d100[/roll]
Damage: [rol]1d10-1[/roll]
amgodtic
2009-12-14, 07:25 PM
That's what I get for TOO much copy-pasting: the same typo breaking syntax 4 times over :smallannoyed: (all repeated below)
If Bestigor is still up, Seth attacks first; if he's not, Seth charges down the ungor and attacks:
Attack: WS 35 (possibly +10 2v1) [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
If Bestigor is still up, Horse attacks as well; if not, either because he was already down or Seth finished him, horse moves up to Ungor (in which case, I'm not clear if he gets to attack)
Attack: WS 35 (possibly +10 2v1) [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Exeson
2009-12-14, 08:33 PM
Ithelus continues his attempts to distract the creature from its actual combat threats.
same again
goblinpaladin
2009-12-14, 09:15 PM
The makeshift bandage soaked through instantly, but it sufficed to keep blood from Lothar's eyes. The wounded mercenary, growling oaths through gritted teeth, levelled his sword at the Bestigor which seemed to be still hurling itself at the wounded squire. Despite the large mutant being outnumbered and injured, it seemed no closer to defeat or flight.
Lothar paused a fraction of a second, experienced eyes watching the clashing blades- there, as the albino moved in for another attack, that was the chance- and he leapt into the side of the thing, bellowing "Nordland!" The ordinary steel of his regimental sword neither shone nor sang, but it did strike for the creature...
Charge action at the Bestigor. With charging and outnumbering bonuses, I'm pretty sure I have a +30% to my WS, and no longer have the -10% from the scalp wound: 65
Attack: <65 [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
BloodyAngel
2009-12-15, 10:58 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Illiiya watched what was left of the fight with nervous anticipation, not moving from her wagon, but praying softly to no god in particular that they would see it through all right. Things seemed to have taken a sharp turn in their favor.
Staying the course and staying out of the fight. You guys seem to have it wrapped up in any case.
Another_Poet
2009-12-15, 01:08 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Giving his head a shake so the blood won't run in his eyes, Raffy feels dizzy. He stumbles for a second - just long enough to draw his knife in his spare hand - and then charges all-bollocks-out at the beast man's back.
"Somebody GET IT!" he roars.
edit: retconned due to misunderstanding on my part. Many thanks, LCP.
half action: draw knife
half action: throw that knife
[roll0] vs 48
[roll1] (assuming I add SB to a thrown weapon)
The Bestigor roared, swinging its axe high over its head and lunging for Seth once again – raising his battered shield, the squire screamed in pain as the heavy blade twitched through the air, the white-furred beast breaking the predictable pattern of its blows to slice hard into the young man’s leg. Baring its yellow fangs in a hideous grin, it wrenched its weapon free, swinging the bloodied blade back to deliver the killing blow –
Lothar cannoned into its side in a blur of steel, the monster’s affronted roar turning into a howl of agony as the soldier’s sword ripped into its leg, shearing through muscle and bone in one hacking stroke. Blood spurting from the mangled mess, it rolled onto its back, shrieking curses at the Nordlander in its own vile tongue – Lothar stepped forwards with a rather matter-of-fact air, bending briefly over the spitting beast to drive his sword through its gullet before straightening up and dusting his hands. At his feet, the white-furred body convulsed and fell still, a last gurgled obscenity dying in the monster’s throat.
There was a shout from the woods – looking up, Seth gritted his teeth against the pain in his leg and dug his spurs into his horse’s sides, accelerating into the darkness of the trees. Branches loomed up around him, scratching at his face – he felt one snag in the folds of his mail shirt. The next moment he was falling, tumbling face-down into the frost-preserved leaves of the forest floor – his injured horse slowed to a halt, turning and whickering in confusion at its master’s sudden absence.
Hearing the thunder of hooves behind it, the last Beastman redoubled its flight, bounding between the trunks like a satyr of Tilean myth – Raffy was a match for it, jinking between the trees with blade bared. As the creature paused to turn around a particularly broad tree, the youth slammed into it from behind, the impact driving it face-first against the gnarled bark – the broadsword’s point lanced forwards, impaling its shoulder and pinning it to the tree. Stepping back, Raffy watched the creature writhe for a moment, before drawing his dagger and driving it hard into the base of the monster’s skull.
The noise had stopped. Looking back, Raffy saw the figure of Seth, gingerly getting to his feet – the last of the beasts was dead.
Exeson
2009-12-15, 07:57 PM
Ithelus dropped his weapons and fell to his knees. The blood was too much, the monster's blood, his friends blood, his blood. It pooled on the ground under his arm and-no, he couldn't help it; his stomach emptied itself onto the cold ground. He gasped slightly before jumping blot upright.
'Illiiya!'
He ran to the cart and launched himself atop it, moving to her he wrapped his good arm around her shoulders, 'Are you ok? no one hurt you? It's all ok now...' The usual awkwardness of physical contact with her lost to the sheer adrenaline of the past few minutes.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-16, 01:10 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
I'm all right. Illiiya said with a slight shudder, too shaken to recoil from the contact, You... you're hurt. You're all hurt. I... don't know medicine. I... I can't... I don't know how to help you.
She looked at him helplessly, still shaking, but trying her best to focus on the injuries of her friend and companions rather than the looming sensation of being watched. It would fade... it always faded. Just like it always came back... eventually.
Illiiya doesn't have heal, and I'm pretty sure you can't use it untrained, yes? But unless we know that Lothar does, (I think it's Lothar, right?) she's gonna worry over who will treat them. She'll even try if she can. She's not really flustered by blood and injury... it's the daemonic that haunts her dreams... anything chaos-related will send her into a phobic fit. Or mention of Gavinburough....
Granted, I'm certain it's a moot point, as Lothar will probably just mention that he's a passable field medic.
Exeson
2009-12-16, 06:24 AM
'It's ok... I'll sort somehting out' He says as he slowly lets go of her. Welcome back awkwardness! He moves to the rest of the group,
'Any of you who can tie a dressing? I only have one hand.'
Finally managing to quiet the stamping carthorses, Hans limped over to where Lothar was standing, the coachman favouring the side on which the beastman had gored him.
“Reckon I owe you lads my thanks,” he said, slowly. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be beast-food right now.”
Shooting the elves a sideways glance that indicated he did not include them in his appraisal, he nudged the corpse of the Bestigor with the toe of his boot.
“Beastmen. That puts the lie to it bein’ the Wolf, then. The lost shipments'll be somewhere in these woods, I reckon. And what’s left of the carters.”
He looked up at the trees.
“Morr knows what a bunch o’ horn-heads wanted with four wagon-loads of limestone.”
Feel free to have anyone who’s coming out of the woods hear what Hans just said.
amgodtic
2009-12-16, 08:32 AM
Seth trudged back to the caravan guiding his horse. He looks a bit out of it. When he gets all the way to the carts, he looks around, and the immediacy of the injuries wakes him up. "Hans," he begins, "how much further to Delberz? Even if we can dress these wounds, we all shouldn't be too long without boiled water and a doctor's eye."
"Not far now," said the coachman. "We should make the town before nightfall."
It's currently round about noon-ish. It's wintertime, so nightfall is in 4-5 hours.
Another_Poet
2009-12-16, 11:56 AM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Once he's sure the beastman is dead Raffy pulls his sword out of its shoulder, causing it to fall to the ground. Then he grips it by its hair (or head fur) and saws off its head with a long, messy slice. Wiping his blades on its clothing, he comes back to the wagons with a head in one hand, a ruddy sword in the other and a neutral expression on his young face. Lumbering about at well over 6 feet tall, he doesn't exactly look like a youth anymore in this light.
"We lose anyone?" he asks, looking around. He seems relieved to see the answer is no. "I vote for heading out. Delberz has better doctors than the nighttime chill of the road."
He'll gather his own belongings and the three heads (or two heads and one pile of head-pieces) which he'll hang from the side of the lead cart. "The other shipments might be worth looking for," he says to no one in particular, "But not on our own, wounded, when it means getting in late. Let's go."
He takes his spot on the bench of the lead wagon. (He helps clear away the snare line if needed.)
goblinpaladin
2009-12-17, 02:34 AM
Blinking the still-trickling blood from his eyes, Lothar leaned down to sever the albino's head even as Hans was thanking them. Exhaustion slowing his every move, he nodded to the wagoner. "Yer welcome, my man. I hate these bloody things. Sod if I know what they'd want with stones, though- I'd put a wager down that they were just after human flesh, with taking stones away as bonus. Maybe they're heaped up 'round a stone as a monument to the Four."
He stained the creature's fur with his sword before sheathing it and turning to the carts. "The kid's right, though. Best be movin' on. I can wrap your arm there, squire, and I may well do a better job'n some city sawbones as never seen a cleaver-wound in his life. Seen plenty worse in the war- why, once the 'Fishes' had to see off a Norse attack, an' those bastards carry axes the size of both Shallya's tits together. Lemme tell ya all about it on the way back into town."
Giving the mutant one last kick in the fork for good measure, the former soldier turned to his cart, preparing to move on. After hopping up to the driver's seat and reclaiming his musket, he paused and looked around the ragged group.
"Where's Jurgen? He still runnin' for home?" Lothar gestured at the wounded squire. "Here, Seth, maybe you and your horse should leg back and grab him? The Drakwald's no place to be alone. He's likely to get eaten."
"We can take him or leave him for all I care," said Hans, plodding back towards the lead cart. "He din't exactly look too concerned for our health when he legged it."
Pulling himself up into the driver's seat with a wince, he tore a strip from his sleeve, beginning to bandage the gash in his abdomen where the beastman's horns had struck.
OOC: Seth's call, since he's the one with the horse.
Exeson
2009-12-17, 07:42 AM
Ithelus gets up and collects his weapons, trying hard not to vomit a second time as he pulls his throwing knife from the Ungor's corpse. He sheathes the weapons after wiping and then moves to the second cart.
'Well, I'm all for just getting out of here, blood smells bad. Real bad.'
amgodtic
2009-12-17, 08:15 AM
Seth, at the suggestion of retrieving Jurgen, raises an eyebrow. "Mm...yes, I think it will prove worthwhile to fetch 'im. A man who's known the shame of cowardice is likely to shy from it in the future. And I reckon his firm grip on his flask may be found lax after today." With the most mirthful face he can manage while still wincing in pain, the squire guides his horse around and charges off.
Heading back along the road at a canter, it didn’t take the squire long to catch up with the fleeing coachman – a lifetime behind a pair of horses had not been the best cross-country training, and the bearded man was wheezing and stumbling as he ran.
At the sound of hooves, he looked fearfully over his shoulder, staggering to a relieved halt as he made out Adelbert’s face.
“Thank Sigmar,” he said, stumbling back towards the slowing rider. “I thought I was the only one who made it out alive. Don’t suppose there’s space for another on the back of your horse, there? We’ve got to make it back to the village before nightfall. Morr knows how many more of those things there are out there.”
Seth smiled – Jurgen looked up at him in confusion. Explaining, the squire watched with some small amount of satisfaction as the man’s bearded face took on a profoundly uncomfortable expression.
“’Course... I didn’t doubt ye, you know. Just thought I wouldn’t be much use... better off getting help...”
His mumbles trailed off into silence.
“S’pose we’d better be getting on for Delberz, then.”
[hr]
With the soldier’s best attempts at field dressings in place, the caravan got back on the road; Jurgen was back at the reins of his wagon with his eyes cast down. The rattling carts left the headless corpses of their attackers lying where they had fallen - until the creatures’ bodies were well out of sight, Seth’s injured horse struggled to keep up with the carthorses, who showed a tendency to rise to a trot without prompting.
They travelled for the most part in silence, eyes now fixed intently on the treeline – no further attackers appeared, the shadows beneath the branches staying resolutely empty. After several hours, the quality of the road began to improve, becoming broader and flatter. The sun was dipping low in the sky by the time the trees began to thin, long shadows dragging behind them.
Ahead, the trees cleared: the fields around Delberz stretched out in unbroken swathes of bare brown, their harvest already stripped from the soil to wait out the coming winter. The road cut a reasonably straight path between the muddy furrows, headed straight towards the centre of the great town that sprawled between the caravan and the river. Above the myriad roofs and chimneys, two tall buildings reared their heads – a modest castle, roofed in the modern style, rose on a mound to the south, while from what seemed to be the centre the beginnings of a soaring belltower stabbed skywards, the great spike of unfinished masonry shrouded in a complicated cage of wooden scaffolds. The low sun threw the gothic stonework of the tower into sharp contrast, its southern face glowing flame-bright against the shadows of its northern side. The new Temple of Sigmar – their destination.
It was their immediate surroundings that Raffy found more pressing, however – though barren, the fields were far from empty. Rows of muddy tents in various states of repair crowded around the road, half-starved children and peasants lifting their heads to watch as the carts rattled past: ahead, where the sprawling camp joined the town, he could see a halo of recently-erected hovels clinging to the outermost buildings, some of them little more than shacks thrown together from reject timber. Many of the tents were crammed with belongings that belonged beneath a solid roof, grim-faced, sunken-bellied men standing watch over furniture and goods that they had dragged with them all the way from towns and villages that no longer featured on any map. There were hundreds of them – young and old, men and women, farmer and townsman – and every one of them looked cold. Cold and hungry.
“Halt!”
The lead cart rattled to a halt. Ahead of them, a gaggle of half a dozen men with a vaguely military look were stepping out into the road, from where they had been sitting on the grassy verge: they had little in the way of a uniform, the white ribbons tied around their left arms their only uniting feature. They were armed in the manner of a Free Company, a motley assortment of sabres, rusted polearms and hatchets making up their arsenal – the leader, a yellow-haired man with a full, bristly beard, was leaning on a rusted partisan, looking up at Hans with a pronounced air of trouble. His pale blue eyes flicked quickly over the caravan’s passengers, clearly sizing up these new arrivals with something of a professional interest.
“Morning, Sergeant Halbermann,” said Hans, guardedly.
“Morning,” said the yellow-bearded man, grinning like a cat. “Cart inspection.”
His men had moved up behind him. Looking up at the others, he made a jerking gesture with his thumb, and raised his voice.
“We’re searching these wagons. So you need to get off ‘em.”
Exeson
2009-12-17, 09:08 AM
Exeson looks at the men with a doubtful eye. However, he gets up and jumps from the cart, landing in a catlike position. He then offers a hand to help Illiiya down, his other hand snaking it's way to the throwing knife tucked in his belt, not that he expected too much trouble but elves were rarely welcome.
Another_Poet
2009-12-17, 10:29 AM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
(cutting back)
When Lothar shows skill at tending the wound on the side of Raffy's head, the young lad takes an interest. "Sorry Lothar, I didn't know you were something of a surgeon. Certainly is better than waiting for Delberz. The leeches drink to steady their hands and by nightfall they're pretty soused."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On the way to the city Raffy "peasants up" by wrapping his blanket around him like an extra cloak. He seems to exalt in his lower-class status. He was proud of being a burger back when he lived in Delberz and, although the country peasant life never suited him, he certainly doesn't feel he's above it. He's picked up a lot of their mannerisms. He does want to be some kind of hero, but he wears his lower class habits with pride.
When "Sergeant" Halbermann demands an inspection, Raffy jumps lightly to the ground and simply walks away from the caravan. "Watch out for those beast heads, sometimes they still spit," he says casually as he walks away.
Tossing his blanket over his left shoulder so that his gun is visible but his sword isn't, he strolls up to some of the hovel-folk.
"Pardonin' me, but I ain't seen all a you roundabouts last time I was at Delberz. Refuge is it? Where's you are from?"
He tries to keep his tone friendly and small-talkish, switching to a street dialect as he does so.
Not sure if Fellowship is needed but it's versus 29 if so.
If they're willing to talk, I'll ask a variety of questions like "how long have you been here" "how're the locals treating you" "do the churches help out at all" etc - basically I'm trying to get the full skinny on the shanty town situation, and instead of RPing it out question-by-question I'm just sort of abstracting it here to save time :smallsmile:
A sunken-cheeked man looked back up at Raffy.
“Wolfenburg. Or where Wolfenburg used to be.”
He gestured around him.
“People here are from all over. There’s a few hundred of us ‘Burgers, there’s folks from Untergard, Grimminhagen, Schoppendorf, Sokh – them folks closer to the real town are from Middenheim. They got out early.”
“You been here long?” asked Raffy.
“Since the siege. No-one who stayed inside the walls when the Northers arrived got out.”
“They been treating you well?”
“Like you’d expect. The Baron ain’t got enough men to keep order, and the Hounds,” – at this he inclined his head towards Halbermann, lowering his voice so as not to be heard by the sergeant’s men, “they’re in it for what they can grab. Lector von Kemperbad says there’s Chaos among us still. I dun’t know if he’s right, but they sure keep searching. Meanwhile there ain’t no food, and there ain’t no houses. Fluchtling, the noble who owns this land, his men give out bread twice a week, but there ain’t never enough.”
“The churches don’t do anything?”
“The Shallyans from the abbey, down in the Lower Town, they do what they can for folks who get sick. Hand out food, too. They only got so much, though, and the queue goes round the block. Us lot out here on the Fields ha’n’t got much chance of seein’ any of that. The Sigmarites are too busy with their grand temple to do anything for us. That an’ the Hounds, always hunting.”
Raffy glanced sideways at the militiamen, now searching the wagon with a rather officious air.
“I don’t remember any Hounds,” the youth said.
“Hounds of Sigmar. The Lector’s men. Von Kemperbad, he said it were Chaos-worshippers that blew up the old temple, said they never got caught and that... was a stain on our souls as Sigmar-fearin’ citizens of the Empire,” said the man, speaking slowly as if remembering the phrasing by heart. “Next thing, there’s men volunteerin’ to join the Church’s militia, root ‘em out. They say there’s more men in the Hounds than in the City Guard now. The Baron don’t dare tell ‘em what they can and can’t do, neither, not with his new wife so pally with the Lector.”
He coughed, with a rather studied pathos.
“Times is hard, sir.”
Looking down, Raffy noticed the man was holding out an open hand.
[hr]
“All in order, it seems,” said Halbermann, having spent an inordinately long time looking around the sides of the stone blocks. He gave one of the dangling Beastman heads a playful bat with the back of his hand. “Looks like you had a little trouble on the road, eh?”
“That we did,” said Hans, non-committally.
“Well then, that just leaves the matter of the ear tax,” said the sergeant, grinning his feline grin again. “You got a couple of elves, there. Six schillings for each of ‘em, and we’ll say no more, eh?”
OOC: Raffy and anyone else who has been around this region (unsure about Ithelus & Seth) will know there is no 'ear tax' in Delberz, although such things are not unheard of in the Old World. Halbermann is extorting a bribe.
Another_Poet
2009-12-17, 11:43 AM
Raffy
Raffy wants to give generous alms but he's streetwise enough not to go handing over a whole gold piece in plain view of the masses. He slips the man some shrapnel (i.e. small coinage - pennies? silver pieces?) and thanks him for his time. He walks amidst the refugees here and there giving away small coin until he has has donated a full gold crown's worth of hard cash to various people.
He walks up to the cart and hears the Hound asking for a bribe. He smiles affably.
"Aww that's awful generous of you, Sergeant Halbermann," he says. "Six shillings per ear, that's three beast men heads with two ears apiece... If my learnin' don't fail me that's 3 and 6 for us. It's good to see a man of your station making a good example by rewardin' those what keep the roads safe. And yeah, them elves were a great help in the scuffle, you should see the way they can tear up flesh."
The last part is said really slowly. A pause, and then:
"A course there may be some tolls on comin' down this road, huh? I think we'd be willing to forego the ear-reward and call it even with the tolls and taxes."
"They look pretty torn up themselves to me," said Halbermann, his eyes flicking from the elves to Raffy and back. He knocked the dangling heads again. "Must have been a tough fight, the seven of you against the three of them."
He leaned rather more pronouncedly on his polearm, incidentally bringing the weapon's head a little closer to Raffy's face. He spoke with a soft, mocking tone, as if explaining something simple to a child.
"You want to claim the bounty on these beasties, you take the heads to Captain Brucker of the Guard, savvy? What I'm sayin' is here, now, you need to pay us. Eighteen schillings, now. Just 'cos you've made yourself so likeable, mister."
He smiled unpleasantly.
"'Course you can go right ahead without payin' the ear tax if you want to." He made an exaggeratedly solemn face. "But then I'm afraid their ears will have to stay here with us."
The men behind him chuckled. It was not a pleasant sound.
Intimidate test on Sergeant Halbermann. Calling this on Fellowship rather than Strength, as you're not making a direct physical threat.
Skill roll: [roll0]
WP test to resist: [roll1]
Rather decisively failed :smalltongue:
amgodtic
2009-12-17, 01:07 PM
Seth is mostly aware of the situation, but he's having trouble discerning the fine details. Attempting to be helpful, and almost bound to fail, he trots up behind Raffy and begins expounding-loudly enough for half the shanty town to hear-"See here, now, is the tax six, or is it nine? Tell us the truth, and your names as well; for I'll be speaking with the authorities when we get into town, and if I find you're swindling us, I can assure you you'll be attempting to rob your next victim from a pillory!"
"My name's Dietlief Halbermann - Sergeant of the Hounds of Sigmar," said the man, losing his mocking tone - he was still far from civil, but he knew to treat a man on horseback with at least a minimum of respect. "The tax is what I say it is, and if you don't like it, you can go to the Lector, 'cos we don't answer to no-one else. See if he gives you the time of the day."
Intimidate (on Fellowship), Very Easy (Halbermann hates the idea of someone going to his bosses): testing against 39/2+30 = 49
[roll0]
For the same reason as above, Halbermann won't test to resist.
Edit: Still failed.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-17, 01:17 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Illiiya had stayed quiet for most of the trip, eyes darting warily around her as if following the movement of things that no one else could see. She hunkered close ot Ith and shivered most of the way, looking weary, but too wide eyed to nod off.
-----------
Upon arrival she accepted help down from the wagon, looking about the shanty town warily while the humans talked. She listened intently, somehow not feeling much more comfortable at the presence of the church. She'd heard that people such as her often had as much to fear from zealous humans as any chaos spawn. The man was seeking to extort them, charging them for their mere existence. If she thought paying the man would stop harassment, she would have... but it would only make her a target of more extortion, and she somehow doubted the local guard would step in to protect them in the least.
Instead, she just watched him... eyes focused intently on the man, but at once... not all together there. Her head tilted somewhat to the side as she kept him locked in her disjointed gaze. Short of the infrequent blink, she made no other motions, just watching with her large, inhuman eyes... as if she were waiting for something.
amgodtic
2009-12-17, 01:24 PM
"Very well-six shillings apiece," he says, still being certain to speak audibly to everyone in sight, as he counts it out and hands it down to them. "Will that be all, then?"
Shillings IS silver, right? Not gold? Cuz I don't have 12 gold :smallredface:
“That’ll do, sir,” said Halbermann, grudgingly. He pocketed the silver, and stepped aside, shouting for his men to clear a path for the wagon – the refugees who had been clustering round to watch the little confrontation were quickly dispersed, the shouts of the Hounds echoing loud over the subdued hubbub of the sprawling camp. As the passengers re-mounted the cart, Halbermann stepped over to Raffy, giving him an unnerving wink.
“You want to watch your step, lad. No room for troublemakers in Delberz right now.”
Stepping back, he gave one of the carthorses a slap on the rump, starting the cart forward with a rumble of wooden wheels. Behind them, Ithelus could hear the faint rattle of another cart approaching – as the militiamen faded into the distance behind them, he heard Halbermann’s cry of “Halt!” once again, the man’s voice vanishing into the noise of the town as the roofs of Delberz loomed up ahead of them.
The road they were heading down was broad, rutted and busy – handcarts and wagons thronged the thoroughfare, many laden with cargo for Middenheim. Narrow houses that reeked of poverty jostled shoulders with older, more established-looking buildings, overhanging eaves casting the sides of the road into shadow. There seemed to be a proliferation of inns, two on this road alone: passing the second, the carts turned through a cobbled square towards a broad stone bridge, the swollen waters of the Delb gurgling past underneath.
The old town raised its half-timbered walls around them, houses large and small crowding every field of view: crossing the bridge, they passed through a crowd of old buildings into the broad, paved square that Raffy recognised as the Tempelplatz of his childhood. Ahead of them, the new cathedral reared, dwarfing the temples of the other gods – workmen swarmed around it like ants, stone blocks being hoisted up into the spider’s-web of timber and rope that clung to the exterior of the unfinished belltower. Men bearing the white armbands that Halbermann’s men had been wearing stood guard around the great work, doing their best to look attentive.
Approaching the great, arched doorway, the carts rattled to a halt: around a dozen men instantly converged on them, beginning to manhandle the heavy blocks off the back of the wagons. A serious-looking mason with a grizzled beard approached, hailing Hans and Jurgen with an upraised hand – the first coachman called back, then turned to his passengers.
“Your pay will be waiting with Captain Brucker. If you could tell him about the beasts on the road, you’d be saving me a job of work.”
Looking round at Seth, he fished in his pocket, producing a handful of silver.
“I can’t pay you back what that thief took, but I figure I owe you some of it, after how you fellows saved us back on the road.” He placed three schillings in Seth’s hand. “That’s what I can afford.”
He looked pointedly at Jurgen, who shamefacedly produced another four.
“You want my advice, you let it drop. No good’s come yet of fighting the Hounds, and they have enough ways to make life miserable for anyone who tries.”
He swung himself down off the driver’s seat.
“You ought to be able to catch Captain Brucker in the Guard House. Good luck to you.”
Another_Poet
2009-12-17, 02:13 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
“You want to watch your step, lad. No room for troublemakers in Delberz right now.”
"If I see any I'll let them know." Raffy gives a flourishing bow to the man and adds, "Name's Plotzik MacGuffin. It's been a pleasure."
He hopes that between having worn his hat the whole time, and giving a false name maybe Halbermann won't be any more trouble for him until Raffy chooses to go after him. That ought to make my name.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Thanks Hans," Raffy says for the advice. He pats Jurgen on the back after the man coughs up a donation toward the elves. "Yer a good man, Jurgen. I'd a run too if all I had was a knife. Don't let 'em give you a hard time."
Turning to the others he'll offer to show them to where the Guard House is, or at least used to be when he was a kid. He makes sure to bring the beastman heads and his gear. He still has his blanket over one shoulder.
The Guard House was a modest brick building, standing to one side of what Raffy called Judge’s Square – although compared to the new Temple, visible even from here, all the public buildings around them seemed modest. The guard on the door was uniformed, unlike Halbermann’s men – he wore a tabard with the Baron’s crest, a helmet and a halberd making up the ensemble.
Heading inside, they found themselves in a bare-walled, rectangular room, doors leading off to either side, away from the large, empty fireplace that sat in the centre of the rear wall. Between them and the hearth, a man sat at a solid-looking desk, its surface littered with various papers: young and well-dressed, with a neatly-trimmed black beard, he looked up at them with a weary expression.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” he asked, his voice carrying the crisp accent of the nobility.
Exeson
2009-12-17, 04:13 PM
All the way through the town Ithelus keeps his head down, he had come to understand the ear tax, and to accept it. He bids farewell to the drivers and thanks them very much for the money.
As they arive at the guardhouse he taps Raffy on the shoulder and whispers, 'Appreciated my friend, but next time when my arm is better don't cause such a fuss and I'm sure the coin would.... jump out of his pocket back to it's owner's purse' The meaning is clear, Ithelus is a thief and a pickpocket after all.
Another_Poet
2009-12-17, 04:40 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy's eyes widen in suprise. He sort of does a double-take and then plays the gesture off like it's nothing. He doesn't say anything in response, but nods slightly. He's no thief himself but he wasn't a saint growing up on these streets and he'll never begrudge anyone doing harm to illegitimate "authorities."
BloodyAngel
2009-12-17, 09:17 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
That man had daemons in him. Illiiya said disjointedly, to no one in particular, He hurts people because he can...
She followed Ithelus through town, her gaze a bit vacant and far off as she looked around at everything they passed along the way. She seemed less concerned over the strange looks that people gave her... but she spoke to no one as Ithelus led her to their inevitable destination.
goblinpaladin
2009-12-18, 03:40 AM
Lothar had remained quiet during the altercation with the thugs in Sigmar's service. A few schillings in return for slipping in quietly wasn't the worst of prices, and the squire had collected most of it back anyhow. Instead, he contented himself with looking both quietly competent and not worth bothering about. Just another hired escort in a country swarming with veterans of the War, collecting his pay. Nothing to see here.
He puffed on his pipe contentedly. New city, new coins, new dice games, and enough folk around to blend in. Plenty of work to keep me goin' and folk who need helping.
The only note of alarm was the elf witch's ramblings, which were enough to snap him out of a pleasant daydream where he won a small pile of gold in a game. He leaned in close to her just before they stepped into the Captain's office. "I wouldn' say that too loud, hey. That kind of talk attracts questions. Pointed ones."
He frowned at her and knocked tobacco from his pipe against the wall. "Just be careful, I'llya," he added, badly mispronouncing her name.
goblinpaladin
2009-12-18, 03:44 AM
Having emptied his pipe, the Nordlander swept a half-respectable salute at the soldier on watch before entering Captain Brucker's office at the back of the small group. His swords clanking in the small room, and the blood trickling from his wounded forehead conspired to make Lothar distinctly uncomfortable.
He nudged Seth with his foot, and said in an undertone, "'Ere, Squire. You do the talking. I get all fishlike in front of officers."
Exeson
2009-12-18, 06:57 AM
'Yes, yes you could. We are here to er... collect the payment for these... things and...some other stuff'
What started out as a nice speech melted away into awkward mumblings, Ithelus knew that as an Elf he had no place to talk to officials.
Catching sight of the beastman heads, the man’s eyes widened – he looked back at the group with rather more interest than he had before. Something seemed to click as he scanned their faces, taking in their wounds.
“You would be the caravan guards? For the temple shipment?”
Exeson
2009-12-18, 08:41 AM
Asked a direct question Ithelus perked up. 'Yes, yes we are! we just got into town and delivered the goods. Who do we collect payment from? For the heads? Also i think a few us might need some medical attention...' He babbles slightly excited. He motions to the various injuries of the party that are surrounded by congealed and in some cases frozen blood.
“That would be me. My name is Marius von Brucker; I am the commander of the City Guard here in Delberz.”
The man was still staring at the heads.
“Beastmen, then.” He made a noise halfway between a grunt and a sigh, looking up at the party. “We’ve been having trouble with a highwayman – the peasants call him the Wolf. We’d assumed the missing shipments were his doing, although what a bandit would want with four wagonloads of stone is beyond me. This rather changes matters.”
Returning his eyes to the party, he examined them with a critical eye.
“But of course, you want your pay. You have done commendable duty to the city, and you will be rewarded for it.” He opened a drawer, and produced a pouch that sounded like it contained coins. “I believe you were offered a mark apiece for the journey? And three marks for each of these... things, by the Graf’s orders, making fourteen in all.”
He set the money down on the desk – he paused, seemingly deep in thought, as he examined the party once again. With a blink, he snapped back to the here and now.
“I hope you’ll excuse my directness, but you look like a likely bunch,” he said, with typical aristocratic tact. He gestured to the heads. “You’ve proved yourselves more than capable of handling yourselves, too. How would you feel about earning some more? I could offer you a watchman’s pay – two marks a week, and medical expenses, which you look like you’re in need of. This is bad business – something needs doing about it, and I think you might be the men – and women,” he added, with a civil inclination of his head towards Illiiya, “for the job. What do you think?”
A mark is another word for a gold piece.
amgodtic
2009-12-18, 09:20 AM
Seth wanders in from tying up his horse around the time Ithelus is confirming that we're the caravan escort.
"Bad business? Town watch? Are you saying there is danger within the town walls?" Seth's eyes look wearily resigned. "If so, then I am certainly your man, though i would nary speak for the others."
"But...with all the guards I've seen about, I would think that they would at least pay for their oppressiveness with the security they were nominally hired for. What could possibly be plaguing this city that their sheer numbers could not deal with?"
Exeson
2009-12-18, 09:21 AM
Ithelus looks at Illiiya and opens his mouth to accept the offer but realises he has no place to speak for her, and so looks at her questioningly.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-18, 09:21 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Heh.... Soooo close. "Elf Witch". Flip those around and you're a little closer. And it's funny as hell! Granted, Illiiya was never a Maibd, but it's pretty funny nonetheless.
Illiiya followed quietly after Lothar scolded her, keeping her head low as she went. When they arrived for the bounty, she payed it no real mind. She usually just gave her share of their spoils to Ithelus, since he always seemed concerned over money. He repaid her with support, protection and new things when she needed them.
Remembering Lothar's words, she stayed quiet when the commander spoke to them all. He gave her less a sense of unease than the other man did, which was something. She seemed to relax slightly, listening to his words quietly as her companions negotiated with the man.
Just for the record... Illiiya's witch sight is the cause of a lot of her weirdness... hearing things and seeing things that aren't there. Whether they're real or not, who knows? I'd just like to make a note that Illiiya's magic sense skill is used to often in a day that it may as well count as always on. I don't have the book with me, so I forget what that means, but please let me know if anything ever blips on her magic-dar, so she can freak out accordingly.
“I take it you’ve met the Hounds, then,” said Marius, nodding back at Seth. “Perhaps I had better explain."
“I’m afraid what you said about the guards is simply untrue. The Guard is undermanned and underpaid, particularly with the new arrivals on the Fluchtling Fields and in the lower town. My men have their hands full just keeping order on the streets. The men you’ve seen are a Sigmarite militia – volunteers calling themselves the Hounds of Sigmar. They work for the Church, at least in name, and their commander is a man who calls himself ‘Sergeant’ Halbermann – he might as well call himself General Halbermann as far as anyone’s given him a rank, but Lector von Kemperbad seems happy to use him as a go-between.”
“They claim their mandate is to hunt out the followers of Chaos that the Lector says are still lurking here. I am as faithful to Sigmar as the next man, but I would say they’re a mob of zealots and opportunists. But I don’t have the power to stop them, because everyone knows that what von Kemperbad says is true – worshippers of the Four blew the old Temple to rubble with our own gunpowder, and we didn’t catch one man. The Lector has a powerful way with words, and my stepmother’s – the Baroness’ ear, and he has many of the common people on the side of the Hounds. When he hears that the shipments were being intercepted by the Children of Chaos, you can be sure he will seize it with both hands. That means the Hounds redoubling their ‘efforts’, and that means more old ladies being beaten in the street for owning a black cat, or being suspected by their neighbours.”
He leaned forwards in his chair.
“That’s where you come in. You’re new in town, people won’t recognise you, and you don’t wear the uniform of a guard – or a Hound. You can get to the bottom of who was to blame for the destruction of the Temple, and whether they’re still here – maybe even catch them and drag them before the courts. If I can present some evidence, show who actually did it, the legitimacy of Halbermann’s lynch mob evaporates, which means a return of real law and order.”
He sat back again.
“I can give you a few leads, but no-one with anything to hide will talk to the Captain of the Guard. You’ll have to work alone, for the most part. But as I said, you’d be paid – and if you succeeded in catching the culprits, I’m sure the city would reward you handsomely.”
amgodtic
2009-12-18, 10:15 AM
Seth's teeth are set further and further on edge as Marius explains. "You need not so vehemently affirm your faith to me; I'm well aware that corruption can hide in the church's cloth. I will do whatever it takes to remove these pretenders from power."
"Before we continue, let me phrase the question in reverse: Are there any present who do not wish to aid in this endeavor? If so, then best you go with your coin, and gods bless."
Exeson
2009-12-18, 10:26 AM
At hearing the rather worrying explanation Ithelus shrugs. 'I think Illiiya and I will be safer if we keep together with you. Plus the Hounds now owe us some coin, and I'm a man of interest, who believes in interest. And debt carries high interest.' He smiles slyly and play his bone dice between his fingers. His new found confidence can probably be pinned down to the prospect of pay, a group of capable fighters at his back and the opportunity for some.... well, it is obvious really.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-18, 04:11 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Illiiya looked about with a start, as if she'd been miles away and something had just recently tugged her attention back to reality. She looked quizzically at Ithelus for a moment before she finally spoke.
I'll go wherever you do. She said in a low voice, I don't have anyplace else to go.
goblinpaladin
2009-12-18, 07:28 PM
Lothar cleared his throat somewhat nervously. "Ah... I'd like to accept yer officer -ah, offer- Captain. Will we have any official...ah papers or the like? If the Hounds or another guard questions our being in a place at a time?" He rubbed his hair, wincing as the bandage was tugged up.
"I'd also not object to your office keeping me in blackpowder and shot. Imagine that's hard to get 'round here, what with the cultists and all."
Von Brucker reached into the drawer of his desk, producing a small handful of coins - dropping them on the table, he pushed them towards Lothar.
"There's three marks. That ought to keep all of you in ammunition, if you feel you'll need it - Sigmar knows the plotters got their hands on gunpowder easily enough. But if I find you starting fights without good cause, we will have no further business. I hope that is clear."
Drawing a sheet of paper towards him, he picked up the quill that lay on the desk, wetting it in the inkwell and scribbling something on the parchment. Stamping it with some kind of seal, he rolled it up, holding it in his hand.
"This bears my signature, and the seal of the City Guard. It ought to keep you out of trouble with my men, at least."
He did not hand it over - his eyes turned to Raffy.
"That is, if you are all agreed?"
Another_Poet
2009-12-19, 03:04 AM
Raffy
Raffy snaps out of his reverie. It seems he was staring out the window in the direction of the river.
"Aye, Lord. We're agreed. It's a generous offer and we'll work hard for you."
He frowns. "Any chance you'd have a spare 'buss in your armoury? I've been looking to have the barrel on mine refitted, and shouldn't want to be unarmed in the meanwhile."
He indicates the gun hanging from his right hip. Funny, his peasant brogue has vanished and he seems to speak clearly and match the commander's tone.
"I'm afraid not," said von Brucker.
He handed over the paper. “I know only three places where you might start. First is Doctor Johann Rasen, who you will be wishing to see in any case – for your wounds. He is the only sober surgeon I know of, and he treats the poor – more people pass in and out of his door than any other man in Delberz. His office is in the Lower Town, on the west side – any man on the street there can show you the way.”
“Second are the gunpowder merchants. There are only two in the city, one in the Altmarket, and one in the Neumarket. Whoever destroyed the temple must have bought the powder from them, but if they know anything, they won’t tell it to anyone in a uniform. They won’t come forward with evidence while the Hounds are waiting to seize anyone accused of trafficking with the enemy.”
“Third – “ he sighed, seemingly to himself – “is an old friend of mine. Klaus Ziemlich. Unfortunately, he’s fallen into bad company – but that means he may have seen or heard something relating to the plotters. You’ll have a hell of a time getting anything out of him, but he may be your best chance. Most evenings you can find him at the Hammer and Tongs, arguing... something with someone.” There was a trace of weary disgust in the young Captain’s voice.
“I will expect regular reports. You’ll receive your pay on the last day of the week. And a word of advice – be careful around the Church. Von Kemperbad’s a powerful, suspicious man. If you offend him, I can’t help you.”
“Unless you have any further questions, I suggest you get started. You’ll want to secure some accommodation soon – the taverns are all crowded, with the war.”
Another_Poet
2009-12-19, 03:30 AM
Raffy
Raffy nods at the denied request, having not really expected much.
When the commander is done talking Raffy speaks up again.
"I do have one question, you Lordship, if I may," he says. "This Ziemlich, when you say he's fallen in with bad company, who do you mean? Typical cutthroat types, or someone with more influence?"
He's not really sure what possessed him to ask the question but it seems important.
The Captain lowered his eyes.
"He has fallen in with a pack of radicals. They have a taste for politics - always pushing some mad-cap system where the peasants rule or some such theory." He paused. "Sometimes they verge on treasonous sentiments, I think, although they are reasonably careful not to incriminate themselves. Klaus and I fell out over his views some time ago."
Exeson
2009-12-19, 08:44 AM
'That is indeed a shame, sir.' Ithelus says, shaking his head slightly. 'I'm sure he will come to his senses.'
'Could you advise as to where I could buy a crossbow?' He asks after a pause, 'oh, and a thick coat' he adds with a slight shiver.
There was a slight flash of irritation in the Captain's eyes.
"The Guard has its weapons made by order of the city. If you wish to buy them for yourselves, I suggest you find an armourer, not a watchman. There are enough of them in the markets."
"I believe we have no further business to discuss. I will await your first report."
Exeson
2009-12-19, 11:12 AM
Sensing a change in the tone of the conversation Ithelus nods. 'Yes sir, thank you.' He then pockets the small purse and walks out the door, waiting for the rest to follow and decide where they are going. 'I'm heading to the doctor now, I need to look after my arm before it gets infected.'
BloodyAngel
2009-12-19, 11:29 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
I'll go with you. Illiiya said softly, looking with concern at Ithelus' injured arm.
Illiiya shifted her weight awkwardly for a moment, shivering in the cold air as she looked around the village. Her gaze drifted skywards for a moment before she shrunk slightly, flinching a bit as if she'd seen something.
Bad place... She muttered disjointedly, Maggots don't bite until things begin to rot... Then they eat. But if everything rots, then all that's left is the maggots... and they have to eat eat other, or they all starve.
She blinked for a moment, as if something had reminded her of a concern of the real world, and she looked to Ithelus... seemingly oblivious to her own unsettling words.
Ithelus, I'm hungry. Can we get something warm to eat when you're done at the doctor's? She asked, lightly taking his good arm.
Illiiya. She's as deep as you imagine she is! Cutting social commentary, or the ramblings of a madwoman? You decide! :smallbiggrin:
Exeson
2009-12-19, 12:32 PM
'Sure, I think we can afford a nice hot meal today.'
Ithelus smiles, he liked the city with its people and buildings and lack of scary beastmen. He opens the purse and shares out the Marks, giving three to Lothar, Seth and Raffy and taking five for Illiiya and himself.
amgodtic
2009-12-19, 12:35 PM
"You all head off then, and speak with the Surgeon; my leg's not so bad as it seems. And I have hopes that the citizenry know a tad about the black powder business as well. I'll tie up Fairething at the stables, and tend to his wounds. Then..."
Seth confers with Raffy for a minute...
By which I mean, Amgodtic refers to the Taverns spoiler in LCP's OOC post, so Raffy doesn't actually have to respond to this; this is just how Seth knows where to go...
...then turns and says "...then...I think I shall try to settle in at the Hammer and Tongs; if a large gunpowder order had been placed, chances are good people with money would know more about it than the common folk.
"We should arrange to meet somewhere a little less visible at the end of the day, and compare notes. How does the North Wind sound? Raffy says its not frequented by as many regulars as travelers, and we should keep our cooperative investigation out of general sight and hearing. Come to think of it, Marius said beds are filling up quick; Lothar, Raffy, could one of you head there first and reserve rooms? Unless someone thinks we should stay elsewhere; I'm open to suggestions, naturally."
First things first, need to tie up my horse for the duration of my stay. How much is that gonna cost?
Second: Is the heal skill for humans AND animals, or is Animal Care for animal healing? I'm gonna roll Animal Care, but if my horse needs Heal, could Lothar roll that? If it needed heal, there's no real reason he wouldn't have done so already.
Animal Care: Int 33 [roll0]
Damage healed: [roll1]
Next, I wanna roll gossip at the Hammer and Tongs, looking for leads on who could have purchased a large amount of gunpowder around the date in question. I am willing to spend a few MARKS on drinks to help ply the wary-tongued.
Gossip: Fel 39 +10 for taking the skill twice +10 etiquette talking to nobles
[roll2]
Exeson
2009-12-19, 12:54 PM
'Sounds like a good plan, I'll ask someone to give me directions to the doctors and after get some food. I'm not sure how useful I would be in finding info after the doctor, people are not welcoming of elves. If there are items we require however.... Well, we'll work on it.'
He smiles to Illiiya, 'let's go explore.' He turns to the others, 'North Wind, at sundown,' With that he turns and stops someone in the street, asking for directions.
Do i need to roll for that or will most citizens be able to point out the doctors?
goblinpaladin
2009-12-19, 07:14 PM
Lothar holds up a hand. "I'll come with you elves to the leech. The two of ya wandering around alone are like to get lynched. 'Sides, I should get this gash sewed up."
Turning to Seth and Raffy, he nods. "North Wind it, is, although I'd prefer somewhere a bit... rougher. More likely to hear what's happenin' in town, and less questions about elves. Plus, hey more dice games, and cheaper booze, eh?"
Another_Poet
2009-12-19, 07:21 PM
Raffy
"No, no, the Wind is all the way back across town," Raffy complains. "Besides, I'm going to stay at the Hammer & Tongs too. We could just meet there, or if you want somewhere lower profile, there's the Crow by the Market."
He'll give directions if people are amenable.
"Though come t' think of it, we could save a lot of money if we just rented a room as lodgers at someone's house. An attic or something would fit us all. I want to buy a house, but I'll be saving up a bit."
goblinpaladin
2009-12-19, 07:25 PM
"Lodging's a good idea, but we'll be poking about in the city's underbelly, stirring up muck. I wouldn't want to bring that down on Herr Burgher and his wife." Lothar starts filling his pipe with tobacco.
"The lower profile, the better, I say." He shrugs, bending out of the wind to light up.
Chapter II
Where There's Smoke, There's Fire
Going to see the Doctor:
The streets of Delberz swiftly swallowed them up, the high gables of Judge’s Square vanishing behind a sea of shabbier roofs. Even as the roads narrowed, the eaves of the buildings overhead crowding in, the streets remained thronged with people – burghers and commoners alike wearing the cobbles smooth with a hundred passing feet.
The name of Doctor Rasen seemed to draw recognition – several commoners told the party the way, their outstretched fingers pointing deeper into the shabbier houses of the Lower Town. At last, they came to a narrow, tall building, sandwiched between two shorter houses as if it had been squeezed upwards. Its exterior was weathered, but in reasonable repair – a small bronze plaque next to the door bore the legend “Doctor Johann Rasen – Physician”.
The windows were dark and empty – stepping up to the door, Lothar knocked to no reply.
“Maybe he’s out,” said Ithelus.
“Maybe he’s drunk,” grinned Raffy.
At that moment, there was a muffled call from the road behind them – Illiiya looked round in alarm, shrinking back as an apparition loomed in front of her, crossing the street from behind a laden cart. It stood and walked like a man, dressed in a slightly shabby black gown - but from beneath its broad-brimmed hat, a monstrous proboscis jutted like the bill of some nightmare crow, two flat, glassy eyes staring blankly into her own. It advanced on them, the stick in its right hand clicking against the stones – coming to a halt in front of her, it reached up with one leather-gloved hand, and slowly began to detach its face...
...revealing a rather normal human face beneath. Removing his hat for a moment, the plague doctor lowered his mask, looking around at the group on his doorstep.
“Can I help you?” he asked, in mild, educated tones. “This is my surgery. I’m afraid I’ve been out on my rounds.”
[hr]
Seth at the Hammer & Tongs:
The interior of the Hammer and Tongs was gloomy at best – the daylight that came through the narrow windows was beginning to fail, and the tavern’s only lighting came from the slender candles on the tables that spotted the common hall. The furnishings inside spoke of comfort without any attempt at show – everything was solid, well-made and clean. Right down to the oak beams of the rather low ceiling, on which Seth nearly brained himself immediately after walking through the front door.
In one corner, a group of half a dozen or so young men in the clothes of the merchant class were seated around a table – their heads all craned inwards, engaged with half-heartedly hushed voices in what sounded like a rather heated discussion. A couple of older-looking men leant against the bar, a barman with a moustache that radiated enough respectability for a Duke filling a pewter stein for one of them as the other chatted inconsequentially. There were a few more of their type seated around the common hall – another group of youths occupied the opposite corner from the first, less numerous and rather more finely dressed. Occasional gales of laughter rose from their table, causing one of the first group to shoot them the odd venomous glance.
Approaching the men at the bar, Seth nodded to them. They regarded the still-bloody man with a wary interest – their caution lessening slightly when he offered to buy them both a drink.
“Very good of you, sir,” said the first man – a short, stocky fellow with a meticulously groomed beard. “D’you come here often?”
“No.” Taking a drink for himself, Seth paid the barman and took a sip. “This is my first time in Delberz.”
“A great city. A great city.” Seth got the impression that the short man had been drinking for some time already today. “Lived here all my life I have, man and boy, boy and man.” He held out a pudgy hand. “The name’s Adler. Reinhardt Adler.”
“Seth Adelbert,” said the Squire, shaking it.
The short man’s companion shook Seth’s in turn. He was thin, clean-shaven apart from sideburns of greying whiskers, and rather more sober than his friend.
“Wilhelm Tures. Can we help you, Herr Adelbert?”
“I was wondering if I could find someone to tell me about the gunpowder trade here.”
“Not sure you’ve come to the right place, lad,” said Adler, jovially. “It’s all striplings and youths here now, all boys, no men of business. Wilhelm and I only come to keep old Dieter happy, isn’t that right Dieter?”
The barman nodded amiably, going back to cleaning the stein in his hand.
“You want to buy or sell?” asked Wilhelm.
“Neither, for now.”
Tures nodded, sucking his teeth.
“I do a little business with Greitling, the gunsmith in the Altmarket.” He paused – unintentionally allowing Reinhardt to butt in.
“Wilhelm here’s a lawyer, don’tcherknow. They’re a litigious lot, these shopkeeps. Always getting into disputes over something or other, and it’s always old Wilhelm has to sort ‘em out.”
He laughed, mostly to himself. Seeing that his friend had finished, Wilhelm continued.
“I can give you his address, if you’d like. Apart from him, I think there’s only one other merchant who stocks the stuff in town – Karlsen, in the Neumarket.”
The lawyer took a sip from his beer.
“I don’t think they get on too well. By all accounts, Karlsen’s undercutting Greitling, selling poor stuff on the cheap, and never mind to whom. At least, that’s what Greitling says.” He took another sip. “Frankly, I imagine if you asked Karlsen, he would give you the same story about Greitling. Tradesmen are often like that.”
OOC: Ale here is 4p a pint – you’ve spent 12 on one each for yourself and your two new friends.
Exeson
2009-12-20, 07:12 AM
Ithelus slowly returns his throwing knife to it's holder on his arm, hidden by his sleeve, but he keeps a hand on the hilt, just in case.
'Yes, we are here for a number of reasons, first we require medical attention.' he said in a rather jumpy and nervous voice as he motioned to the various wounds. 'The rest would be better discussed inside...'
BloodyAngel
2009-12-20, 08:13 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Illiiya recoiled in horror from the thing as it approached, clinging to Ithelus and shaking like a leaf, even after the creature was revealed to be false. She kept her distance from the doctor, seeming torn on what to do when the man approached Ithelus. She finally released him, but lurked close, white as a sheet.
No raven. Go away! Please go away... She muttered over and over to herself, frozen in place outside the office until someone shook her from her momentary freak out, It hurts.... it hurts... it hurts....
By the time they got her, the elven woman was nearly curled up in the street, sobbing.
At the Doctor's
Doctor Rasen blinked, looking from Ithelus’ wound to the muttering Illiiya – craning his head to one side to see her as she shrank back behind Ithelus, he raised his eyebrows.
“Is your friend ill?” he asked. “Please, come inside. I wouldn’t like to answer for leaving those wounds unattended for too long.”
He produced a key from under his gown, hurriedly unlocking the door. Stepping over the threshold, he hung up his hat and mask, before turning and looking back outside at Illiiya.
“You’d best bring her in. I’ll fetch her something to drink.”
Exeson
2009-12-20, 11:04 AM
Doctor's
Ithelus growls protectively, and scoops the small elf up in his arms. 'it's ok lovely, it's ok. Don't be scared.' He is probably the only person she would respond to in her state.
He enters the house on the doctor's invitation. 'She's fine, just a little jumpy... and broken.'
BloodyAngel
2009-12-20, 02:14 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Doctor'sIlliiya clung to Ithelus tightly, her head buried against his shoulder as he carried her inside. She continued to mumble as they entered the building, in a hushed, shaky voice.
Make it go away... it hurts... Don't let it hurt me anymore.
Exeson
2009-12-20, 03:23 PM
Doctor's
Ithelus hugs her close, 'What hurts? I won't let it hurt you,' He then looks around for chair or other seating.
Doctor's
The ground floor of Rasen’s house seemed spartan in the extreme, the bare plaster of the walls devoid of any decorative touches and the naked floorboards swept clean of every last speck of dust. Looking like a priest of Morr in his black gown, the doctor closed the door behind his guests, ushering them down the narrow entrance hall into a wider room.
A scarred table dominated the centre of this new chamber – the sturdy timbers had the abraded look of having been scrubbed clean a thousand times, but there were a few dark stains of a rather sinister colour that had evidently refused to wash away. A single window shed a bar of light into the gloom, the doctor setting about augmenting the failing sunlight with a couple of oil lamps that stood in brackets on the wall.
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said, glancing back at Illiiya. “I know the kit is a bit outlandish, but you can’t be too careful, in my line of work.” Finishing lighting the second lamp, he headed over to a cabinet in the far corner of the room, opening it and beginning rummaging inside. “I’ve been visiting a community in the west town – well, it probably doesn’t matter to you. Not yet, anyway.”
He chuckled grimly to himself, the source of his amusement lost on the party. Turning around, he proffered a glass of some amber liquid in Illiiya’s directions.
“To settle the lady’s nerves.” Seeing she was not going to take it out of his hand, he set it down, turning back to the cabinet.
“If the wounded gentlemen would just sit up there, please,” he said, gesturing absent-mindedly behind himself at the table. “I won’t be a minute.” Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a long steel needle – Ithelus found his eyes drawn inexorably to the glinting point. Pulling off his gloves, Rasen began hunting for some thread.
“Did you say there was something else you wanted to talk about?” he asked, politely – finding the thread, he deftly looped its end through the needle’s eye, tying it off with a swift motion and setting it down onto a battered iron tray. Producing a clean-looking cloth from under his gown, he clapped it over the neck of the bottle from which he had poured Illiiya’s drink, quickly upending it to wet the cotton before turning it upright again. He nodded his head towards Ithelus. “If you could roll up your sleeve, sir. This will sting a little.”
He glanced back at the rest of the group, waiting for the elf to comply. “I hate to sound mercenary, but I suppose you can pay?”
Exeson
2009-12-20, 05:41 PM
Doctor's
Ithelus casts a few glances at the needle, and at Illiiya. 'What is that drink?' he moves over to the table.
'My name is Ithelus, pleased to meet you. We're here from von Brucker, he said maybe you could help us? We understand you treat all sorts of patients and were wondering if you treated any with gunpowder related injuries? Or indeed, if you heard any talk of the demolition of the church?'
He fishes into his purse and pulls out a mark, 'I trust such an ample donation to the well being of the people will not look bad?' He rolls the mark between his fingers in front of the surgeon with a sly smile for a second before clamping the coin between his teeth. He holds out his arm and screws his eyes shut. Urg, needles.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-20, 06:27 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Illiiya seemed to calm down somewhat, letting Ithelus go and looking about awkwardly. She glared at the drink he brought her, recoiling slightly as if it were somehow dangerous... She did not drink it... instead just watching the doctor as if he were about to leap at her at any moment.
Doctor's
“It’s brandy,” said Rasen, clamping the wet cloth onto Ithelus’ wound. The alcohol stung dreadfully. “Someone’s done a reasonable job of dressing this, but it needs to be cleaned properly. Hold that there, will you?”
Picking up the needle, he tested its point, before motioning Ithelus to take the cloth away.
“Hold still, please.”
Ithelus looked away, blanching, as the man began to stitch the wound closed.
“So young Marius sent you?” he said, talking as he worked. “Wanting to know about the old temple. I suppose that means that von Kemperbad’s got to him too.” The man’s voice took on a gloomy cast.
“I was called out to an accident involving gunpowder a couple of days ago. In a cellar, in the west town.” He reached for a pair of short-nosed scissors, tying off the stitching and cutting the thread. “I have no love for the mob of witch-hunters that have taken over this town, but those men were none too keen to have an outsider see what they had been doing. One man was badly burnt - the rest refused treatment. They wouldn’t tell me their names, but I can give you the address. I doubt they’d still be there – they were renting the space. Most landlords don’t take kindly to their tenants blowing things up.”
He straightened up, taking Ithelus’ gold piece.
“That will do. You had better take his place, sir – let’s have a look at what’s under that bandage,” Rasen said, gesturing to Lothar. He walked over to the cabinet, fetching a clean needle and cloth.
“Understand I'm telling you this because I believe that if Captain von Brucker thinks there may be danger, then I see it as my duty to prevent people from coming to harm.” He began threading the new needle. “I treat my patients with confidentiality. I don't want the Captain to think that he can press me for anything he wishes about those who come here for help.” He hesitated. “But I saw the old temple come down. And I trust Marius, to a certain extent.”
He set to work on Lothar.
“Of course, if you want to follow von Kemperbad’s line of it being Chaos-worshippers who did it,” he said, losing some of the grave air he had put on, “I would suggest paying a visit to Herr Pilserier, in the Neumarket.” He gave a wry smile. “I have no qualms about ratting on a rival, you know. Frankly, I’m surprised the Hounds haven’t come down on that heinous quack already.”
Exeson
2009-12-20, 07:12 PM
Ithelus's eyes water slightly as the work is done but he wipes them away and nods thanks to the doctor.
'Thank you very much for that, as a man of profession myself I understand that such information does not come likely. Just one more question from myself if you will; Knowing you are kind enough to treat all sorts, and mentioning a trip to Neumarket, are there any individuals you have heard of who we could talk to... to er... inquire as to any perhaps illegal dealing? If you understand me'
Doctor's
Doctor Rasen stopped in his work for a moment, turning to regard Ithelus rather more coldly than before.
"No," he said, sharply. "I thought I made myself clear, sir, that my patients' business is their own."
He checked himself, his expression becoming a little less fierce - he did not apologise, however.
"I make an exception for the gunpowder men because others may be in danger, but I will not be made a street-ear for the Guard. For one thing, my custom would die on its arse. Pardon the expression, ma'am," he added, nodding to Illiiya as an afterthought.
Exeson
2009-12-20, 07:38 PM
Ithelus cringes slightly. This is why he should not do diplomacy. 'I apologize for question.' He inclines his head in an apologetic motion. He then picks up the glass and takes it to Illiiya. 'Drink it? it will burn on the way down but it will help you. He is not the kind of man to give ill to others.'
Another_Poet
2009-12-20, 10:43 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy breaks his silence as the doctor snaps at Lothar.
"We're not guards," he says flatly. "And we're not here to disturb your business or your patients."
He pauses a moment to let the doctor absorb that. "We're nobodies. We came from nowhere, we were asked us to make sure no one and nothing else will be blown up, and once we've made quite sure of it, we'll be gone just as quickly."
He puts a ginger hand on his own head wound, not nearly as bad as the others'. "We've already taken a bit of a beating for it, but truth is, we're on a sort of timeline. I don't think it'll be long before this whole refugee and Hound situation goes wildfire. And when it does, whoever's sitting on that shipment of gunpowder is gonna have a real easy time getting it in place wherever they want to."
Another pause.
"So aye, the address would be helpful. And so would any other information you're able to give without disrespect to your patients."
goblinpaladin
2009-12-21, 05:29 AM
Doctor
Lothar winced as Doctor Rasen approached him. "Ah, doc, I'm glad for the kind words about my bandaging, but I'd really like a glass of what you gave the elf before you start stitching my head. I mean, if it's all the same."
He licked his lips. "You ought t' know that we got these marks fighting the Children, a few hours north, if that'll help your leechcraft." He hesitated, watching the Doctor's hands -and the sharp, sharp needle. "Cap'n Brucker's hired us on as a sort of extension of that kind of work, if you see my meaning- we aren't attached to the guard permanently. More like those little cleaning fish some sharks have, helpin' out and getting a bit on the side, but a totally different--"
He paused, and grinned. "Totally different kettle of fish, if you like."
Doctor's
Rasen raised an eyebrow. Reaching for the bottle, he poured Lothar a small measure, going back to his instruments as the soldier knocked it back.
“Alright, then. I... apologise if I was curt with you. One moment please.”
Turning back to Lothar, his face took on an expression of intense concentration – the ex-soldier winced as the needle threaded through the torn skin of his scalp, the doctor’s hands working with quick, delicate movements to thread the stitches back and forth. When he was done, he broke the thread, tying it off and cleaning the wound a second time before stepping back.
“Both of you should be alright, if you take care,” he said. “Which means no heavy lifting for you, sir,” – looking at Ithelus, then back to Lothar – “and not much else for you, provided you don’t decide to go around headbutting people.”
He gestured for Raffy to come over, inspecting the cut on the man’s temple.
“That seems to be healing nicely. Not much I ought to do, except clean it. Hold still.”
Wetting a clean corner of the cloth, he dabbed along the length of the half-clotted gash. Putting down the bloodstained rag, he ran his eyes over the group and nodded.
“All right then. The address was at number thirty-six Faulkes street, off the New Road. I didn’t meet the landlord. There were three men, dressed rather strangely – still wearing their heavy-weather clothes, though I suppose it was fairly cold in the cellar. The one who seemed to be in charge had an old powder-burn down the side of his face, and favoured his left arm, holding it out of sight. Maybe war wounded. Dressed like a commoner, but he could pay better than most.”
“That’s all I know. It didn’t look like they had a ‘shipment’ down there... whatever they’d had had gone up in the accident, and it had only burnt one of them. They’re probably long gone now, but if you do find them, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let on it was me who told you.”
He paused.
“Give my regards to Marius, if you would. And if you’ll take a word of advice from an old sawbones, I wouldn’t stay around here if I was new in town. Try to get lodgings in the old town, if you can. The squalor and overcrowding are getting dangerous, especially around the Fields. I’ve lived through two plagues in my time, and I’ve never seen the rats so many or so bold as they are now. In winter, as well. There’s a sickness that a few people in the west side have come down with recently that I’m particularly concerned about. All in the same neighbourhood, and very quick it’s been too.”
He began tidying his instruments onto the tray, pulling a wooden bucket from under the table – seeing it was empty of water, he sighed.
“Maybe I’m jumping at shadows. I don’t know. But frankly, I wouldn’t like to be around here when summer comes. Not if it wasn’t my job, at least.”
He gave a faint, wry smile.
"In the circumstances, you might almost see why some might want to see that new Temple come down. All those thousands spent on cold stone when people are starving in the streets."
goblinpaladin
2009-12-21, 05:59 AM
Doctor
Lothar blinked away tears of pain, and nodded appreciatively to Rasen. "Much obliged, Doctor. This... sickness- it isn't near Faulkes street, is it?" The bearded soldier looked uncomfortable. "I mean, it's not even close to, uh, the season for that sort of thing, but I'd prefer to avoid it."
He stood up and brushed himself off. "Anyways, we appreciate your help. Not a word from us about it, either, to anyone bar Cap'n Brucker."
Doctor's
Rasen looked up, thinking.
"Fairly close, actually. I haven't seen any cases that far yet, though."
Another_Poet
2009-12-21, 11:43 AM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
At the Doctor's
Raffy thanks the man. "And don't worry, Doctor, mum's the word. We don't intend on getting the town's most reputable physician on our bad side, so you can bet we won't say a thing to anyone. Though I'm hoping we won't see you again - nothing personal, you know what I mean."
He indicates his wound as he says this, to show that he simply means he's hoping he won't have any more injuries.
He'll make sure the doctor is paid slightly more than is typical, saying as he does so, "And of course nobody working for von Brucker stopped by here today," he says casually as he puts his hat back on. Then he heads out when the others are ready.
Outside the Doctor's
About thirty paces after leaving Doctor Rasen's door Raffy spins and leans down, his young face only inches from Ithelus'. He locks eyes with the elf.
"How about from here on out, you don't mention who we're working for? We were hired off-uniform for a reason."
His voice is very quiet, just high enough for his companions to hear. He doesn't touch the elf or reach for his weapon at all, but there is a certain aggression in his voice. Looking to Lothar, he adds, "We got luckly with the doctor, not being the talking type. But tipping our hand could get us killed. All of us." He nods to Illiya and then looks back to Ithelus to make sure he shows some sign of agreement.
BloodyAngel
2009-12-21, 12:28 PM
Doctor's
Illiiya doesn't test the drink until Ithelus hands it to her and bids her drink. With that she nervously took the glass and put it to her lips, sipping the brandy for a moment before scrunching her nose and making a face that borders on hilarious.
It's strong. She said idly, pausing a moment to get her bearings again before she finished the thing with the same scrunched expression.
She sat quietly while the doctor spoke and dressed everyone's wounds, slowly growing more comfortable as time passed. He did not seem such a bad man now... though why he was earlier dressed as something so horrific was beyond her. Perhaps he was trying to avoid the screeching things by disguising himself as one of them?
------------
Outside, Illiiya followed along. She seemed to have grown more calm since the wagon attack and being harassed by the hounds, though that may have been the brandy's doing. The girl was willowy and her tolerance for the stuff left something to be desired.
Illiiya blinked at Raffy in confusion as he spoke to them about keeping quiet... something she was reasonably certain she'd done. She tilted her head to watch him quizzically, pale blue eyes locked on his.
Don't be angry. She said to him in an almost pleasant tone, before lowering her voice to a conspiratory tone, Anger makes the red ones come...
She gave Raffy a soft nod then... seeming happy to have helped.
Exeson
2009-12-21, 01:54 PM
Ithelus snarls, 'Yes, because that would look great for the hounds, a group of out of towers containing two evil, untrustworthy elves, with links to the Church asking questions about the black market and the purchasing of gunpowder.'
He places a hand on Illiiya's shoulder. 'I apologize for endangering your life. Next time I'll be sure to leave you out of it.' His words are well formed, but curt. He knows he has made a mistake, but that doesn't mean he likes having it pointed out to him.
Another_Poet
2009-12-21, 02:25 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Outside the Doctor's
Raffy's look softens. "This town'll eat you up," he says as if that makes it okay. "Sometimes you've got to lie. The Hounds won't like us no matter what, but the less they know the harder they've to work to get us. Mystery... we gotta be a mystery."
He shrugs. "I never knew an elf before. Seen 'em, but never knew 'em. You seem all right. And your... sister... well, that was something. Really something. There's a place I always wanted to go, on the edge of the Old Town up there, maybe it'll be free of the sickness. I'll buy you all a drink if you like."
He seems willing to talk to Ithelus or Lothar about Illiya but so far hasn't spoken to Illiya at all, even when she spoke up just now. Maybe he doesn't know how to handle her... unusual way of speaking.
((Raffy intends to head to the Hammer & Tongs now, though if the others have more errands he might tag along a bit more.))
Exeson
2009-12-21, 03:03 PM
Ithelus pauses for a second. 'We'd like to join you,' He looks at the intoxicated Illiiya and then puts his arm around her shoulder in case she needs support. He nods for Raffy to lead the way. 'Remember we have to be at the Crow by sundown.'
Outside the Doctor’s
“I’ll see you there,” said Lothar. “Reckon I might try and... reconnoitre. Get the local perspective.” The soldier’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe make something out of my pay, too.”
Raffy shrugged, heading on his way – Fischer waved, heading off reasonably confidently into the Lower Town. He was sure the soldier could take care of himself.
[hr]
Seth
Letting himself out of the Hammer, Seth looked around to get his bearings, trying to remember the directions Raffy had given him to this place the others had been so keen on meeting at. Placing himself with reference to the scaffolded spike of the temple belltower, he hurried on his way – the sun was starting to sink to the level of the rooftops, the dusk bringing with it the cold and the dark.
Pausing to ask directions, once or twice, he hesitated as he heard a call from behind – looking round, he saw a little, bent-backed man scurrying after him, the leather tassels of his grubby cap flying behind him. The fellow could have been any age from forty to sixty, a tangle of greying hair that had receded from his scalp to blanket his neck instead reaching down nearly to his shoulders – he was poorly-shaven, and draped in a cheap coat.
“’Scuse me sir,” panted the man, catching up with him, “’scuse me, sorry – I was wondering if I could ask, are you the gentleman who stopped by the Guard House today with the beast heads? I’ve been trying to find you, trying very hard, sir, but the guard on the door, he didn’t know where you’d gone. Said the captain had gone home and he didn’t know.” His tone was wheedling and obsequious. “Was that you?”
[hr]
Raffy & the Elves
Raffy led the way back towards Judge’s Square with a sure step, twilight creeping in from the east as they made their way towards the Hammer – stepping back onto the cobbles of the square, the young man stopped, grinning broadly, at the sight of a new addition to the Guard House’s facade. The three beast heads each had a pike of their own.
Illiiya seemed less keen about admiring their handiwork, and Raffy quickly resumed his march towards the door of the Hammer. Shutting the door behind them against the cold, they looked around: the tavern’s common hall was quiet, a cluster of young men talking earnestly in one corner while a few others sat around in twos or threes, speaking in educated tones. The clothes of the customers spoke of quiet wealth – somewhat to Raffy’s disappointment, there was no-one in the gleaming velvets and silks he associated with the nobility. The talk, however, did not disappoint – he heard words he barely understood drifting up from the various tables, particularly the table in the corner.
“The right of rebellion, sir, that cannot be denied...”
“An Empire needs an Emperor, that cannot be denied. Our successes in this war, the martial glories of our nation, our proud standing – what could be more grand than that? What more can we ask of our rulers?”
“To be free.”
The men around the dark-haired youth who had spoken last erupted in a babble of conversation, each trying to speak over the others.
Noticing the landlord behind the bar – a man with a moustache like a well-groomed walrus – Raffy approached with confidence, the man regarding him with indifference. Leaning on the varnished oak, he reached for his money-pouch.
“A drink for me and my friends here, please. And I’d like to take a room.”
The barman raised his eyebrows almost imperceptibly.
“That’ll be twelve coppers for the drinks then,” he said. “And ten schillings for the room.”
"I'll need one too," said Ithelus. "With two beds."
The barman's eyebrows climbed a tiny fraction of an inch higher.
"Another ten schillings, then." He began pouring the drinks. "You staying long?"
amgodtic
2009-12-21, 04:17 PM
"I...wasn't carrying them, but I helped bring them in, yes. What was it you wanted? If your message is specifically for the man who was carrying the heads, I'll be seeing him soon, and I can convey a message for you."
Seth
"No, no - it was just I heard you ran into them on the north road, yes? With the caravan for the temple stone. My nephew is coming that way, you see, from the villages - I was wondering if I could ask, if it would not be too much trouble, if I could ask, sir, whether any of them got away? The Beastmen, I mean. I wouldn't want my nephew to come that way if there were still Beastmen on the road you see, sir, so I was wondering if I should send word for him not to come."
Another_Poet
2009-12-21, 04:38 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
At the Tongs
Raffy puts down a gold crown on the bar to cover both the round of drinks for his friends abnd the room for himself. To the landlord's question he replies,
"Not sure yet. Heard the roads mayn't be safe, and who knows what the weather'll bring. A few days at least, I'd say. You 'ave weekly rates at all?"
((Once the room-haggling is over:))
The youth slowly walks to a table not far from the boisterous debate. You can tell he isn't used to such a place. He can't move his head around quick enough to gawk at all the woodwork, the art on the walls, the people in the place, and so forth. When he finally gets a seat - two tables away from the debate, but he takes the seat closest to them - he whispers without a hint of irony: "Remember, a low profile."
Couldn't be happier.
Exeson
2009-12-21, 04:42 PM
Tongs
Ithelus drops the money. 'You're rooms are secure sir?' he asks. If the reply is affirmative he will stow his belongings in the room. He then sits with Raffy and drinks. 'As low as two elves can afford yes.'
Pulling out his dice he plays with them between his fingers. 'Once we have spoken to the others and returned for the night, I... well I have a request of you.'
Another_Poet
2009-12-21, 05:14 PM
Raffy
At the Tongs
Raffy raises an eyebrow and leans a bit closer. He picks up one of the dice and rolls it just to see what it comes up with.
[roll0] He grins at the knuckle before him and puts a hand on the pan-pipe tattoo on the back of his neck.
"What can I do?" he asks affably.
Exeson
2009-12-21, 05:26 PM
Ithelus grins. 'Well, if we all agree later, tomorrow I aim to make some contacts, however I need someone with me who can, well... if a sticky situation presents itself. Of course if you don't want to I would want you to look after Illiya whilst I'm out.'
He finishes his drink, 'But we best be getting to the meeting.' He drops the key into the Barman's hand and leads Illiiya out of the door, waiting outside for Raffy.
Another_Poet
2009-12-21, 09:10 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
At The Tongs
"Well I'm not one for subtlety and if we have trouble the 'buss is likelier to draw attention than not. But I'm happy to stand around and look mean if you need. Besides I need to see what all has changed here in Delberz, I'm happy to come."
He makes sure his stuff is all squared away in his room - his stuff mainly being his blanket and cookware. Openly wearing the broadsword and gun he's about to lock up his room when he pauses.
Looking around, he sees no one in the hall. So he goes back in, throws himself on the bed and lies there for a minute. Then two minutes.
He sighs a contented sigh and rolls off the side to his feet. He leaves the oil lamp lit and the window open just a tiny crack. He has arrived. He has arrived.
He rejoins the elves and walks with them toward the Crow. Unusually, he has left his hat behind despite the threat of weather. His long legs carry him at a good pace but many times he stops the group to jaunt down a side-street, poke his head in a pub, or read a sign over a door.*
He doesn't seem to care that they're quite late.
*I forget if our characters start out literate or not. If not re-imagine this as "scrutinise the picture on the sign above a door."
BloodyAngel
2009-12-22, 02:37 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae: At... wherever she's at now
Illiiya tagged along quietly, just taking her surroundings as she went. The inn was a nice place... snug and warm. It made her feel good, and she almost wished she didn't have to leave... but they'd made plans to meet the others, and she didn't want to be left alone. She left the warmth of the Tongs with a wistful sigh.
The streets seemed colder after the heated inn, and she shivered a bit, curling her arms around herself as they made their way to the Crow. Raffy had seemed to take his time in coming down, during which time she stood close to Ithelus to keep warm. When finally he made it, she watched him with curiousity... wondering why his mood seemed so light. Perhaps he was taking her advice on being angry to heart. That was good. She'd hate to see him clawing out his own eyes in horror if the red things came.
They navigated the twisting streets towards the Crow, with her holding lightly to Ithelus' arm the whole way. As they moved she watched the people around her... occasionally pausing to stare at someone with an odd expression or recoiling slightly from another for reasons only she knew. It never took much to get her moving again, and by the time they reached their destination, she was more than ready to step in from the cold and have a nice, hot meal.
OOC: Illiiya.... follows! Exciting! Honestly, when she's not freaking out or acting creepy and weird, she tends to just watch from the background. One of these days, I might have to post something showing the world through her witchsight one of these days. Should be entertaining. :smallbiggrin:
amgodtic
2009-12-22, 08:14 AM
"No sir, none that we saw or heard anyway. We didn't want them fetching help; the way should be relatively safe for at least awhile, until another passel of them happens by. I would never advise traveling alone, but you may tell your nephew the roads are about as safe as they are likely to be for the time being."
Seth
“None at all?” The man hesitated. “As you say, sir. I – I am in your debt.”
Not waiting to say goodbye, he scurried away. Watching him go, Seth shook his head and continued on his way.
[hr]
All
It was dark by the time they reached the tavern – not that they were missing much from the lack of light. The Crow did not go out of its way to appeal to its customers – a tall, wooden building, the dark green paint that it had acquired at some point in its distant past was faded and peeling. A square wooden sign hung over the door, a surprisingly lifelike painting of the tavern’s namesake watching the street below with beady eyes. Illiiya shrank back a little from the painted bird’s stare.
Passing the thick, iron-bound door, the group found themselves in an ill-lit common room, dirty wooden pillars holding up a ceiling of dusty beams. A multitude of eyes rose from dirty mugs to glance at the newcomers, then returned to whatever they had been doing – despite the general air of squalor, the tavern was packed, the born commoners of Delberz rubbing shoulders with peasant villagers looking decidedly out of place. A weasel-faced landlord stood behind the bar, spreading the grime more evenly around a leather stein with a scrap of cloth.
In the corner, a pack of lean-looking men were playing dice – in the middle of the group, Lothar sat, joking freely with his new friends. From the looks of things, the soldier was doing rather well.
“You took your time,” came a voice from their left – looking round, they say Seth looking at them. The squire seemed none too impressed by their surroundings...
Exeson
2009-12-22, 10:08 AM
Ithelus's eyes are drawn straight to the game, and indeed his hand wanders the the fairly heavy purse at his side. Ithelus waves at Seth absent mindedly and gravitates towards the game.
'Room for one more?' He drops his stake on the table and pulls out his dice. 'Just one round.....' he mutters to himself, '...just one....'
Another_Poet
2009-12-22, 10:08 AM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy smiles at the uncomfortable squire, and shrugs. "Never want to be early. It seems... desperate."
He chuckles and slaps the man on the back as he walks past to get a table (or join the table, if Seth already got one). He's not exactly in a hurry to get into more drink and he figures he'll wait to see if a bar maid comes around. Or if someone else buys a round.
amgodtic
2009-12-22, 10:13 AM
Seth cradles his forehead in the crook of his hand. "Well, you all came, anyway." His eyes alight on Lothar's company. "Gentleman, I apologize for interrupting your game, but your friend and I have business to attend to. Lothar, if you please." Seth intentionally backs away and turns around as he finishes speaking, so as to be out of earshot of any protestations not outright shouted at him.
The gamblers looked up at Ithelus – their jaded gazes turned into gawking stares at the sight of an elf. One of the younger ones made the sign of the hammer over his chest.
“Ranald’s teeth,” muttered the man sitting opposite Lothar. “How’d one of them get in here?”
“He’s alright,” said Lothar, affably. “Met him on the road.”
“The Hounds will string us up,” whined the young one. “Consortin’ with witches.”
“Are you calling me the kind of man who hangs about with sorcerers?” asked Lothar, gruffly. “Ithelus is straight as a rule. Same as you or me.”
“If he can pay,” said a third man, “he’s welcome.”
“Maybe later,” said the soldier, looking sideways at Seth. “I think we’re wanted.” He scooped up his winnings, standing with a grin. Touching his hat, he bobbed his head to the company. “Evening, gents.”
Excusing himself from the gambling table, he wandered over to where Seth and the others were sitting.
“You’d better have found something worth hearing,” said Lothar, half-jokingly. “I was winning there.”
amgodtic
2009-12-22, 11:19 AM
Looking slightly embarrased, Seth harrumphs. "There will be other nights, and other fools to be parted from their money, I'm certain."
"And if you're taking that to mean I didn't find anything...well, you win a cigar"
Seth shakes his head resignedly
"Not a total loss. I did hear a touch of talk about the two black powder merchants-and acquired one of their addresses. What I learned about them seemed to boil down to accusations of vaguely shady dealings and unsporting business practices; which is practically pillowtalk compared to the slurs some competing tradesman hurl at each other in other cities.
"All that convinces me of is that, if one of them's innocent, he doesn't *know* anything about the other's unscrupulous activities-or he would have come forward with it.
"But enough about my social blundering-what of this physician? I gathered from Von Brucker that he'd have something to say on the matter."
Another_Poet
2009-12-22, 12:11 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, with a big s***-eating grin.
"Doctor wouldn't say anything. Has to protect his patients. Wouldn't say anything, mind you. So don't ask me where we got the address of three men with fresh powder burns. And money. Hiding out in a basement."
He's careful not to speak too loudly, but he does punctuate the end of his sentence with a loud laugh. Leaning back into the table, he says: "Doc, er, our anonymous informant says they've probably moved on by now, but I say it's worth lookin' the place over. Anybody up for a late night house call when we're done here?"
amgodtic
2009-12-22, 01:06 PM
Seth inspects himself gingerly. "Well...I look worse than I am. Tender all over, but its not going to start to REALLY hurt again until tomorrow. I'm game to put that off as long as possible. And the rest of you?"
BloodyAngel
2009-12-22, 10:36 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Illiiya looked around the place with nervous anxiousness, scrunching her nose at the odd and unpleasant smells of the place. Smoke and cheap booze mostly, with the customer's pungent odors mixing together in a strange, dank musk.
She listened to the boys talk quietly, trying to avoid attention as much as possible. People weren't terribly fond of elves here, it seemed... and women often got the worst of it, she was certain. She glanced around the place as they spoke, watching the other people here from time to time, as if trying to figure them out. When the idea of going out tonight was brought up, she looked decidedly uncomfortable.
We're going out... now? she asked, sounding oddly lucid for a moment, It's dark out... Is it safe?
goblinpaladin
2009-12-22, 10:39 PM
Lothar grins, and shrugs. "I'm making new friends, and some silver while I'm at it. The thing I find most interesting is what our friend we visited earlier had to say about that family with a sick baby and that it was close to the people we're looking for." He paused and frowned, stroking his beard.
"That kind of thing is common where there are refugees, true enough, but it could be the work of... well. You follow my line of thought. We ought to split into two groups tomorrow- you, Seth," he points a callused thumb, "poke around those merchants. Take our young bounty hunter here as muscle, pretend that yer a buyer an' he's your guard. Or something. You two," and the soldier nods to the elves, "come with me into the lower town, see if we can't poke about and hear anything interesting, mayhap have a chat to the neighbours or the landlord of that exploded basement."
He sits back in his chair and nods, pleased with himself. "For tonight though, that doesn't seem like half a bad plan. Just to see what's what, sort of thing. For now, I think I'll shout my fellow gamers a drink, to make up for stepping out early. A moment."
He scrapes his chair back loudly and looks around the table. "You all want one as well, I take it." His voice is very firm.
Another_Poet
2009-12-22, 11:47 PM
Raffy
"I'll accept the drink," says Raffy with a nod and a smile. "But I've already promised myself to Ithelus for tomorrow."
amgodtic
2009-12-23, 08:14 AM
"Which might be just as well," added Seth, "unless you want to be doing a lot of talking tomorrow; Raffy seems a bit the verbose type, and I've been shown my way around a formal etiquette lesson or two. Seems more efficient to separate us. And if I want to look like I have hired muscle, you're certainly at least just as convincing as Raffy."
"And I'll happily accept your donation of a drink," adds Seth, who, for some reason, counts out 4 shillings from his purse and places them in his breast pocket.
Exeson
2009-12-23, 08:58 AM
Ithelus sits quietly, listening to the discussion, most of his attention still on the gambling. At the mention of his plans for the morning he perks up slightly.
'Well, you see the reason why I have asked of Raffy's services is that I was thinking tomorrow the two of us head over to Neumarket and see what we can about the more dubious powder merchant. I also think it would be a good idea to try and get a foot in with the black market, if anything we might be able to find more informants..... And well, out of anyone I'm the er.... most qualified for... such things.'
He trails off into awkward mumblings. 'As for the excursion tonight, I don't see why we shouldn't, as long as you all think the town at night is safe. I think it might be crawling with Hounds.'
amgodtic
2009-12-23, 09:44 AM
"Hm...Well, in the interests of simplicity and logic, I feel t'were best that Lothar and I were the ones to visit both merchants; we shall find the one who's address I have first, then track down the other. That would leave the rest of you a few options.
"You could speak to witnesses concerning this basement; you said something about an ill baby, that might be worth following up on; or you could simply gather what eaves you can, so to speak in the Taverns.
"Or, alternately, you could even speak to that friend of the captain's, Klaus something-or-other, if you're careful about how you approach him. Though I gather he might be hard to find before the evening; we might be better off meeting and comparing notes one last time a'fore we speak to him."
Another_Poet
2009-12-23, 11:50 AM
Raffy
Raffy gives Seth a wolfish leer. "Maybe they'd think I hired you as muscle," he says. And then laughs uproariously.
In response to the others he says, "I don't know about the Hounds, but if they're crawling the streets can always just keep on walking. And I wouldn't go looking for that sick baby - the leech thinks a plague may break out soon."
Exeson
2009-12-23, 12:00 PM
Exeson grins slightly. 'So it is settled then? we all head over tot eh accident tonight, and tomorrow Lothar and Seth chase up the merchants whilst the rest of us do some general poking around. Then after we meet we tackle the revolutionary? I believe I have already fingered him at the Hammer, or his kind anyway.' He plays with the dice.
amgodtic
2009-12-23, 05:33 PM
Seth shoots Raffy an affronted look, then softens when he starts laughing. He responds with a sly look of his own, "I am perfectly content to be mistaken for hired muscle-if the enemies of justice underestimate me, on their own head be it." Seth proceeds to linger over the remains of his drink, until such time as we are all ready to depart.
Exeson
2009-12-23, 05:44 PM
Ithelus nods and gets up from the table. He moves over to the door and motions the group outside when they are ready. He then steps outside and pulls his hat down over his ears as he sweeps his coat and attempts to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible.
OOC: Well, I'm aiming to sort of not draw attention to myself, pretty much use the 'sneak' skill if it existed. Which skill should I test against? Concealment or Silent move, or both?
Trying not to draw attention to the elf’s inconspicuous departure, the others followed, Lothar waving his gambling companions goodbye for now.
The streets of Delberz were dark, the bustle of the day replaced by the shadows of the night – the odd person hurried past, their shadows stretched into wavering spectres by the occasional candle-lit window. The citizens of the lower town could not afford much in the way of lighting.
Following Ithelus’s lead, the party headed south towards New Street, pausing occasionally to take directions from Raffy and trying to stick to the wider roads – it was a difficult endeavour, the entire district seeming to be a warren of winding alleys and overhanging eaves. Hurrying down one such street, Illiiya flinched as a glossy black rat scuttled out in front of them, its glimmering, beady eyes turning to stare brazenly at the party before bounding away into the darkness.
Reaching New Street, they crossed it with their heads held down, doing their best not to draw the attention of the half-dozen men who leaned against the opposite street corner, the white ribbons of the Hounds tied around their arms. One of the militiamen watched them intently, standing straight as a sentry on parade on the fringe of his group – the rest were huddled around their sooty lantern, smoking or talking. They made no trouble, for now.
Faulkes street was as run-down as the neighbourhood of the Crow, although it looked like it might once have seen better days: facades of cracked and dirty plaster rubbed shoulders with those that had been smartened with cheap whitewash, giving a measure of their inhabitants’ pride. The lower walls were built partly of stone, the grey blocks streaked with the black of decades’ accumulated grime. There were no signs of any basement levels from the street – just rows of forbidding, closed doors.
“This is it,” said Raffy, quietly. “Thirty-six.”
Looking up, Ithelus saw a faint glimmer in the window on the upper floor – probably a candle. Aside from that, there was no sign of life on the dark street.
Exeson
2009-12-23, 06:43 PM
The change in the elf was almost frightening. Where as before he was a slightly bumbling and flamboyant creature now he padded along the streets of Delberz with worrying subtlety. He was not perfect at his art yet, occasionally casting a shadow or steeping on a lose cobble, but at other times it was hard to distinguish him from the shadows even when you know where he was.
As they arrived at the house Ithelus pointed out the glimmer to the group with a gesture and then took up a position on the other side of the road, crouched low near a door frame. He also pulled a throwing knife from his sleeve, not that he expected to use it but the Hounds earlier had put him on edge.
Waiting outside the building whilst the group do... whatever they do. Keeping watch basically whilst remaining hidden. Do I need to make a concealment test? If so: [roll0] Target = 64
goblinpaladin
2009-12-23, 09:09 PM
Lothar walked as casually as ever, looking all the part like a bored and slightly-tipsy unemployed soldier in the company of friends. He neither waved nor hid from the Hounds, but nonetheless kept a careful eye on them. He nodded to Raffy, clearly content to let the bounty hunter take the lead for now.
Another_Poet
2009-12-24, 10:59 AM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
When they arrive Raffy whispers, "Ith, you seem pretty quiet. Wanna walk around the building once and see if you can look in any cellar windows? Or find a cellar door? I'll cover you."
He indicates his 'buss. This is probably the only warning his companions will get that, should it come to it, he will favour their defence over stealth.
Exeson
2009-12-24, 01:46 PM
Ithelus nods and stalks around the building, looking for any points of interest. Unless he runs into trouble he will mention them to Raffy and then return to his hiding place.
The alleys between the house and its neighbours were barely wide enough for a cat - Ithelus slunk through them like a shadow, his eyes flicking from side to side as he took in Number Thirty-Six from every angle.
There were no exterior entrances to any kind of a cellar - if what the Doctor said was true, the basement must be accessible only from the inside. There was a heavy-set back door, looking like it had not been used in a long time: the handle was grimy with dust.
The windows of the house were narrow and high - difficult to effect an entry that way, thought the part of Ithelus' mind that was always sizing up such things. Passing round by the other wall, he found himself back on Faulkes street.
"No way into the cellar from outside," he said to Raffy, keeping his voice low. "A back door, and that's it."
Another_Poet
2009-12-27, 02:46 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy nods and then waits expectantly. Suddenly he realises that Ithelus, and probably the others, are waiting for him to decide what to do. How did I end up in charge? he wonders. Oh, right. Gonna be famous. Guess I better get used to it.
Sighing, he looks back at where the others are hidden. What would be idea would be for just one of them to knock on the door, with the others all hidden, so that their faces aren't all learned at once. If no one answers then they can break in.
He approaches Lothar and shares the plan in hushed tones. "So, wanna be our knocker?" 'Knocker' never sounded so much like 'bait' before.
Stepping up to the door, Lothar knocked. The light in the window flickered – straining his ears, Lothar heard the thud of footsteps on stairs, growing louder from within.
There was the rattle of a key in a lock, and the heavy door hinged open by the merest crack – the face of an old, ill-shaven man peered round its edge, examining the man on his doorstep with a wary expression – one that only intensified as he took in Lothar’s swords.
“What d’you want?” he asked brusquely, not opening the door any further. “If you’re one of ‘albermann’s men, I ain’t done nothing’.”
“No, sir, I’m my own man,” said Lothar, grinning. “I was wondering if I could ask you about your cellar.”
The door opened a little further, the extreme wariness on the man’s face lessening a little.
“You want to rent it?” he yapped, regarding Lothar’s face with shrewd eyes.
“It’s not taken, then?”
“Was. Chucked the buggers out.” The little man looked Lothar up and down. “It’s a schilling a week, and that’s starving myself out of house and home, that is.”
“Why’d you chuck ‘em out?”
“’Cos it’s my cellar, and I chose to,” said the man, rudely. “I know my rights. You want to rent it or not?”
Exeson
2009-12-31, 06:18 AM
Ithelus looks up, spotting what could be a very useful opportunity, if even just a cheap place to stay. Lothar and Raffy will probably kill me for this. He stands up and strolls over to Lothar from his hiding place, making sure to look like he has walked down from the street. He hails Lothar with a wave and a shout.
'Kurt! I see you made it ok, sorry to be late but I bumped into an old friend and we got drinking and sharing stories and well... Anyway! What does the man say about the celler? A schilling a week you say?... Hmm, that is more than reasonable, although it is getting late,' He turns to the landlord, 'Mind if we retire and discuss it, and get back to you tomorrow?' He smiles and nods his head. 'Although, sir, if we are not pressing you could we view the room now? or would you prefer we returned at a more amiable time?'
The man stared at Ithelus, blinking once or twice.
“An elf,” he said, seemingly to himself. “Um – I s’pose.”
Stepping back, he opened the door fully, revealing the grubby hallway within – he watched Lothar and Ithelus closely as they stepped over the threshold, as if suspecting they might suddenly vanish. The door closed behind them with a rattle, plunging them into near-total darkness.
“This way,” the landlord grunted. Passing a wooden staircase so dusty that the old man’s boot-prints were the only places where the colour of the timber was still visible, he stooped to open a trapdoor beneath it – a battered but sturdy-looking wooden ladder was fastened to the inside, leading down into the gloom.
There was a spluttering noise, and faint, yellow light bloomed from a candle the landlord had lit.
“Follow me,” he said, turning round and beginning to crawl down the rungs of the ladder. Lothar followed the light, Ithelus hesitating to look around the hallway with his more-than-human eyes – undecorated and squalid, it spoke of either poverty or exceeding tight-fistedness. Or both.
Finding nothing of much interest, he followed the humans down the ladder: the landlord’s candle cast a flickering illumination over an empty, stone-walled chamber with a packed earth floor. It was long – from his examination of the house, Ithelus would guess that it ran almost its full length – and low, both Lothar and the elf having to hunch their heads down onto their shoulders to avoid clipping the dusty beams that held up the floor of the house above. The diminutive landlord had no such difficulty.
“Clean and proper, basic'lly rat-proof” said the man, in spite of the evidence, “one schilling a week. Sixpence extra if you wants to bring people down there. No storin’ animals, or any dangerous rubbish. New rule, that one.” He nodded his head towards a black soot-stain on the far wall – it had the appearance of a scorch mark.
“Them’s the rules, I can change ‘em if I want, and if you break ‘em you’re out on your ear. If you don’t want it, there’s plenty who do.”
Exeson
2009-12-31, 07:41 AM
Ithelus notes the scorch mark and turns to the man, 'What on this world happened there? And who would you define as er.. people?'
"The lot what came before were muckin' about with blackpowder. 's why I chucked 'em out. Dangerous clowns could've brought the whole house down."
He gestured around him.
"The sixpence is if you want to have anybody sleepin' down here, or hold meetings or such like the last lot did. If there's people in it, that's more of a disturbance to me than jus' storage - you got to pay extra. I don't care who they are, so long as they pay."
Exeson
2009-12-31, 08:01 AM
Ithelus nods, 'Indeed that is what we would use it for.' he walks round the celler. 'What were those idiots doing with blackpowder? It was as if they were trying to blow the place up!'
After he receives an answer he nods. 'Indeed myself and Kurt must be heading of now, and return to you tomorrow with out decision... I thank you, very few people would allow an elf into their homes, and indeed with the Hounds all around I fear it has become even harder to find accommodation. I have been in this city for three weeks now and well, finding anywhere to stay has been a task indeed.'
He motions Lothar to the door.
search test just to see if I spot anything in the celler as I walk around: [roll]1d100/roll]
Edit: woops, roll in OOC
"I don't ask questions," said the landlord, shrugging. "They were usin' the place to have meetings, three or four of 'em at a time. One day there was a funny smell and a bang, and it turned out they'd brought a barrel of powder down with 'em, so I turfed 'em out for mucking about. Place is still stable, though, don't you worry."
He hit the wall with the side of his fist - a drizzle of dust drifted gently down from the beams overhead.
"As for your bein' an elf - like I said, it don't matter who you are as long as you pay, and you keep out of trouble."
Scaling the ladder after them, the man closed the hatch to the cellar behind him, following Lothar and Ithelus to the door. "You come back tomorrow, then. I'll be here."
It's perception you want - as indicated by your roll, you spot nothing unusual. The cellar is pretty bare.
Exeson
2010-01-01, 07:11 AM
Ithelus walks along the road and out of sight with Lothar, knowing the rest will catch up with them when they are out of sight. He gulps slightly, knowing that he will most likely get reprimanded for revealing himself.
Another_Poet
2010-01-01, 07:46 AM
Raffy
Once the landlord's door is closed Raffy pads up to Ithelus and Lothar and slaps them on the back. "Nice work," he says in a low voice. "What'd you find out?"
Exeson
2010-01-01, 07:57 AM
Ithelus strains to keep his smile concealed, attempting to look non-chalet. He fails. With a few excited hand gestures he informs the rest of the group what occurred in the house.
'I really think it would be a good idea to rent it out, if only as cheaper lodgings. Of course myself and ... Kurt' he nods at Lothar 'would have to be the ones staying there, but it would also provide a more secure place to meet.'
He pauses, 'Although we would have to do a little more poking around to establish how trustworthy the Landlord is.'
BloodyAngel
2010-01-01, 02:01 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Oh... Are you going to be staying there, then? Illiiya asked Ithelus meekly.
He seemed excited, and she liked when he was in a good mood... but the thought of staying someplace alone made her distinctly nervous. She considered whom else amongst their number she could keep close to, just in case. Seth perhaps? He seemed quiet and inoffensive... and she'd heard things to the extent that knights were supposed to treat women with kindness and respect. Also, he was staying at the nicer of the two inns, which comforted her. The Crow unsettled her in a way she couldn't entirely explain.
I-if you do that... Can I stay with you, Seth? She asked, turning to the quiet young man, I... um... I don't like to be alone.
Exeson
2010-01-01, 02:59 PM
Ithelus stopped dead at Illiiya's question. S***, I had not thought of that. His face drops all signs of excitement and instead turns to slight dismay. 'No, no no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You can come stay too, or someone else can stay instead... I'm sorry.. I didn't think...'
...I was too worried about pissing the others off.
BloodyAngel
2010-01-02, 04:13 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Ithelus, no. You looked happy. Illiiya scolded him, You stay here and do things. Be happy. I'll stay with someone else and be all right.
She refused to keep him sequestered away like some beleaguered caretaker with no life of his own. Ithelus had been kind, and taken care of her for some time now. She did not want to punish him for it. One night without him wouldn't kill her.
I... I don't want to... She said, pausing for a moment, as if hesitant to admit it herself, ...to be broken. You should not have to be broken with me. I will be alright for one night.
amgodtic
2010-01-02, 05:28 PM
Seth casts a worried glance at the two elves, each in turn. "I have no problem sharing a room, if neccesary. But...perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves. Did the innkeeper mention a number? You say only that he said "people" could stay their for an extra 6 shillings. I'm not certain he cares how many, and unless either of you said that you two were the entirety of your party, I doubt he'd be surprised by just one more person.
"Myself and Raffy added on top might be a tad much, but seeing as he's accustomed to it being used as a meeting place as well, I doubt he'd notice exactly how many people went down and came back up anyway, unless he were going out of his way to pay attention."
Another_Poet
2010-01-02, 05:35 PM
Raffy
Raffy stays deliberately silent as the others talk out their feelings and and discuss how to divide up.
BloodyAngel
2010-01-03, 01:44 PM
Illiiya Jaelrae
It's alright. I don't want to irritate the man by dragging extra people here. Illiiya said softly, And I'd... ah... I really don't want to sleep in someone's cold, ratty cellar. I will be all right.
Exeson
2010-01-04, 08:06 AM
Ithelus nods, perhaps she is remembering more of herself... It will be good for her to encourage some independence. 'Very well then, I do believe we are going our separate ways. Lothar, where do you want to meet in the morning so we can go talk to the Landlord?'
goblinpaladin
2010-01-07, 12:52 AM
Lothar shrugs. "Here is fine, 'lest you want to meet in the square after we speak to the blackpowder merchants? We should try'n make sure we do this as efficient as we can, save time and cram as much in one day as we can."
He pauses. "A thought- anyone with normal ears want to try speaking to a priest? Maybe the Temple knows something, too."
Another_Poet
2010-01-07, 01:31 AM
Raffy
The Sparrowhawk fidgets uncomfortably as the request goes out for someone to talk to a priest.
Exeson
2010-01-07, 06:00 AM
Ithelus chuckles slightly, 'Perhaps we should not try and be in too many places tomorrow, higher profile means a few less ears from what I understand.'
'As long as we all know where we are to be tomorrow' He turns down a side street towards the Hammer, motioning for Raffy and Illiiya to join him.
'Have a good night!'
amgodtic
2010-01-07, 08:36 AM
"I could certainly pose the question to the city's holy men, though perhaps t'were best the Sigmarites in particular were left out of the loop." He shakes his head gravely. "Their overreaction in hiring these "hounds" indicates that the issue is too close to home, that their feelings are clouding their judgment."
Another_Poet
2010-01-07, 10:00 AM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raddy nods firmly at Seth's words, though whether it's because he agrees or just for some personal reason is unclear.
He'll say goodnight's to those going the other way and walk with Ithelus and Illiya toward the Hammer & Tongs.
After a moment of trudging along in silence, Raffy speaks to Illiya for the first time of any significance.
"So Illiya, how long've you and your brother been traveling?"
He's making... small talk?
BloodyAngel
2010-01-08, 01:51 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Ithelus is not my brother. Illiiya will say disjointedly, and with the same kind of casual tone one might discuss what they ate for breakfast, He found me. I was in fire... and naked. And he helped me.
goblinpaladin
2010-01-09, 10:15 PM
Lothar glances at Seth. "Don't be foolish. Even an irrational man might know something useful, but hiring a militia isn't necessarily an overreaction. For all we know, the Hounds' overreaction is just them going nuts. Or there might be others in the Temple who'll talk t' us that don't like the Hounds. You can't just assume they're all a bunch of crazy, over-the-top fanatics."
He shrugs and grins. "Hell, even if they are, that tells us something- that they'll've pissed off a lot of folk 'round here."
amgodtic
2010-01-10, 07:23 PM
Seth's face twisted uncomfortably. "Yes, I...I suppose. I'm just wary of allowing the established authority too much leeway-corruption has been known to occasionally spring up in men of the cloth, as well. Every individual must be diligent..." From this springboard, Seth begins to launch into a rehearsed-sounding treatise on the dangers of blind loyalty to mortal men in positions of authority.
The Tongs
“Ah. Right.” The young man looked a little unsure as to how to respond.
Raffy led the way back to the Tongs with a confident step – the young men in the corner had finally left, although from the way the innkeeper was cleaning their table, this momentous event had possibly occurred only moments ago. He acknowledged his customers with a bob of his finely-moustached head, and went back to cleaning.
Heading to their respective rooms, they settled down for the night. Seeing Illiiya and Ithelus to theirs, Raffy luxuriated once again in his own, much the same but with only one bed, like some kind of royalty – the sheets were clean and warm, there was carpet on the floor, and an actual fireplace in the wall, with an iron grate and everything...
As previously established, a room at the Tongs costs 10s a night: Illiiya and Ithelus’ room contains two beds, but costs no more than a single.
[hr]
The Crow
Lothar headed back to the Crow, his memory guiding him well through the unfamiliar streets. A couple of rough-looking lads followed him a little way as he cut back into the depths of the lower town, but seemed to think better of their mark once they got a good look at him – and his assorted weaponry.
Opening the tavern’s battered door, he found the common hall still busy – his gambling companions from earlier, however, were gone. The landlord eyed him suspiciously as he approached the bar and asked for a room, seeming to see the ex-soldier’s custom as more of an imposition than a sale – grudgingly conceding that he might rent rooms for coin, he took Lothar’s money, pointing him up a narrow, wooden staircase in the corner of the hall. There were three doors, without locks – opening the one he had been directed to, he found himself in a bare room, its ceiling following the slant of the roof. A single, grubby window pierced the slanting roof, its narrow panes looking up to the dark sky – despite its cramped dimensions, the room contained two broken-backed beds, the other presumably unoccupied as yet. In one of the inward corners, a small hole had been gnawed in the bare floorboards, the musky smell that rose from it speaking of rodents of some description.
Shutting the small iron bolt that was the innkeeper’s concession to his lodgers’ security, Lothar kicked his effects under the bed, settling down for the night. All in all, he had stayed in far worse billets...
The Crow costs 3s a night. A successful Haggle test reduces this to 2.
Test: [roll0]
[hr]
The North Wind
Crossing the bridge they had come over with the carts, Seth made his way cautiously back to the North Wind, pausing where he could to make sure of his bearings. The unfinished belltower of the Cathedral providing a constant reference point at his back, he found the tavern without too much trouble.
Recognising his customer from earlier, the landlord – a ruddy-faced, reasonably respectable-looking man – let him into his room, a cramped but clean chamber with a battered chest, a bed, and a candle.
Handing him the key, the innkeeper nodded to him.
“You want anything, give a shout. Someone ought t’ hear you.”
Evidently still busy with the tavern’s remaining customers, he headed back downstairs.
As previously established, staying at the North Wind will cost Seth 6s a night.
[hr]
The sun rose faint and cold on another morning in Delberz, the rooftops of the old town casting long shadows over the muddy streets. Emerging from a side-street onto Sigmarstrasse, Raffy and the elves stopped as they caught sight of the others, Lothar and Seth already waiting for them.
Stepping out of the flow of the morning’s traffic, the two men nodded discreetly to their colleagues – Ithelus and Raffy exchanged glances, the Sparrowhawk taking the lead.
“Ithelus and I reckon there’s something to be had in asking around some... shadier types than the Captain could recommend. He reckons it would be best if Illiiya went with you two.”
Seth assented – Lothar only nodded.
“We’ll check the powder merchants,” said the soldier. “Probably see you in Neumarket, if any of your friends are round there. Otherwise, I’ll see you at Faulkes Street, Ithelus.”
Secure in their parts, the two groups split off, Ithelus and Raffy making a bee-line westward, while Seth and the others turned north towards the Altmarket...
[hr]
Ithelus & Raffy
“So,” said Raffy, leading the way into the lower town, “how exactly are you planning on making these contacts of yours?”
“What,” said Ithelus, “don’t you know everything about this town?”
“I left when I was a kid,” said the Sparrowhawk. “Wasn’t exactly a criminal mastermind.”
“Pity,” grinned the elf. “Fortunately, there’s other ways.”
Raffy watched as Ithelus took the lead – passing surprisingly inconspicuously for one of his kind among the growing crowds, he stopped repeatedly on street corners to speak to the beggars who would approach them. The Sparrowhawk tried listening in more than once, but the elf and the beggars he chose spoke in a cant that seemed utter gibberish to his ears. Most surprisingly of all, no money seemed to change hands.
“Seems there’s two bosses in this town,” said Ithelus, returning. “Dietlief Kleiner, who works out of a pawnshop behind the Crow, and a fellow called Wilhelm Dort, who’s in gaol at the moment. Got on the wrong side of the Hounds, from the sound of things.”
He leaned against a wall.
“They said Dietlief’s got a few bruisers looking after him, and doesn’t take kindly to people wasting his time. He’s got a face-man who hangs about in the Crow, though, most days. The street-ears reckoned Dort would be hard to get to, but since we’ve got the Captain’s signature...”
[hr]
Seth, Lothar & Illiiya
Greitling’s shop was easy to find – huddled in a corner of the Altmarket, the painted sign of a cannon hung over the iron-reinforced door, the old building’s windows narrow and covered with wooden shutters.
Stepping inside, Seth let his eyes adjust to the lower light – a bushy-whiskered man looked up at him from behind a bench laden with tools. Firearms of all descriptions hung from brackets on the walls, a row of large barrels stacked at the back of the shop.
“Can I help you gents?” asked the burgher, standing up – he noticed Illiiya, doing something of a double-take. “And... lady?”
Exeson
2010-01-11, 12:14 PM
Ithelus smiles, 'What do you reckon? I think Dort should be first, a man in bars might be more willing to talk for the prospect of freedom.'
Either way he strolls through Neumarket with Raffy, caught up in the buzz of the crowd, every now and then they lose sight of each other. He disappears for a minute of so in the masses but re-appears behind Raffy whilst slipping something into his own pocket.
goblinpaladin
2010-01-11, 06:40 PM
Nodding to Seth in the manner of one deferring to another, Lothar stepped aside. He peered about the store, examining the weapons with the eye of a man experienced with blackpowder.
amgodtic
2010-01-11, 07:39 PM
Seth sighs "A shambles, this town is, sir. My name is Seth, and this is my associate, Lothar. Our employer sent us out here to feel out the local blackpowder trade. Seems there's a consortium looking to extend their trade route out this way-and offer the stuff at a lower price. So we were sent out to talk to the local merchants, such as yourself.
"However, when we got here, the first questions we posed got us suspicious questions and snarls. Seems the locals here are feeling soured to gunpowder right now, simply because it was involved in the attack on the old temple.
"Now, um...our employer asked us to look into the matter. He's convinced that if the populace has real, live heretics to give the noose, they'll be less eager to hang the powder trade-which would make this a viable stop on a trade route. If only I had some idea where to go looking for the bastards..."
Re-written as a lie-though its still unlikely to be good enough to offset a roll that high.
And then I put it all in a spoiler, for consistency's sake-though its admittedly a bit late now.
FS 39 [roll0]
Greitling’s Store
The merchant's eyes lit up.
"Looking into the old Temple explosion? Sigmar's breath, sir, it's a welcome thing to hear someone looking into it who doesn't want to clap us in irons."
"I'll tell you what I told the Guard, and then the Hounds, not that they really listened - it's Karlsen who must have sold 'em the powder, if they got it in Delberz at all. The old Temple wasn't nearly as big as the new one, but they must have needed a fearsome quantity to blow it up the way they did, and I didn't sell that much to any man - or group of men - in that whole month. I've checked the books and I know it's true. In fact, I don't know that I could ever have moved that much powder at once in my life, 'cept on army commissions." He thumped a tub behind him. "My stuff comes in from Nuln, Guild grade, and the Graf's men swear by it, sir. But Karlsen, in the Neumarket, he sells it cheap, and for the quality of it he might well, sir. He doesn't care whether it's the Graf's men or some street thug wanting to pistol his next mark. I don't like to speak ill of my fellow man, but that fellow would sell wholesale to a daemon if he thought there was a profit in it for him. If you want to know where they got it, you hunt around Karlsen, sir."
He stepped around the desk, reaching out to shake Seth's hand. "The man's a snake, and he's driving me out of house and home. Who did you say you were working for? I can guarantee you, your masters set up supplies with me and I won't let 'em down. This is a solid, respectable business, and the Hounds know that, for all they sniff about."
Another_Poet
2010-01-11, 11:55 PM
Raffy
Ithelus smiles, 'What do you reckon? I think Dort should be first, a man in bars might be more willing to talk for the prospect of freedom."
Raffy considers for a long moment, continuing to walk, before responding. At last:
"Well, that's true enough, but once we go in and talk to him he'll know we're in with the Captain." He lowers his voice when mentioning their affiliation. "Besides, unless we can offer him his freedom, there's not much in it for him."
Despite this line of reasoning Raffy is content to go see the men in either order. If Ithelus prefers to go to the gaol, he'll come along, adding, "I suppose we'll have time to see the pawn shop when we're at the Crow later."
Also while they're walking about Raffy will bring up Illiya. "So, Illiya's not your sister huh? She said you found her in a fire - is that true, or more of her nonsense?"
BloodyAngel
2010-01-12, 02:28 AM
Illiiya Jaelrae
Illiiya looked around warily as the group entered the shop, uncomfortable and unfamiliar with black powder and the weaponry it spawned. Dangerous, loud and smelly. She didn't know why humans liked it. The shopkeeper seems harmless enough, but she was noticably anxious... possibly because Ithelus was not around. The wary look he gave her caught her notice, however... and she tilted her head curiously as she looked back at him... watching him with a disjointed look as Seth spoke to him.
Exeson
2010-01-12, 02:10 PM
Ithelus nods, 'That would be logical order to do things.' He Pads through the market, asking for directions to the slammer.
After a little consideration he continues talking, 'Yes, I found her. It might surprise you but I was not always a Town creature, I used to travel around a lot in the wilderness, and I had heard that there was an Kin mage living near a village..... Well, hoping to pawn a few days living off of the mage on account of my blood I headed that way. Turns out I got there just after there was a raid, whole place burnt to the ground... blackened. Dead people all over... the place... anyway, I find her in the ruins. I was confused as to why she was there at first, but once her memory started returning, and along with it her magic... Funny really but I had always assumed the mage would be male...'
He chews his lip, 'We have traveled together for over a month... It's why I have er, chosen to switch to the um, right side of the law. I've become very...... fond of her.'
Delberz Gaol
The gaol building was back in Judge’s Square – its sooty walls huddled against the city’s crumbling courthouse, saving the gaolers a walk. The gatehouse of the prison framed a broad, iron-bound gate, in which a smaller door opened for the passage of men on foot.
Stepping up to the door, Raffy knocked: a rusted view-slit rattled back, the turnkey on the lock pressing one eye to the gap.
“’oo is it?”
“Private citizens. We’re here to visit a prisoner.”
There was a rattle of the key in the lock, and the door swung back – stepping over its threshold, Raffy and Ithelus found themselves in a cramped, triangular courtyard, walls crowding in on all sides to make the most of the paltry space they had been given.
The middle-aged turnkey was looking at the elf with the lazy interest of a man who has seen too much to be easily impressed: turning slowly to Raffy, he looked the youth up and down, sucking his teeth.
“Visitin’ a prisoner, is it?”
“Yes. Wilhelm Dort.”
“’Fraid you’ve had a wasted trip, mister. More’n my job’s worth to let just anyone in to see him.”
Raffy produced the Captain’s papers, showing the man von Brucker’s signature. Raising his eyebrows in an expression of mild surprise, the turnkey seemed to look at the pair in a new light.
“Well,” he said, locking the gate behind them, “I suppose you’d better come with me then, sir.”
[hr]
The stone staircase was narrow and dark, the turnkey’s lamp the only light in the gloom. Stopping at another iron-bound door, there was a rattle of iron keys on the ring at his belt, metal grating in the lock – stepping to one side, he looked back at his charges.
“This is his cell. I’ll be waitin’ outside. He gives any trouble, just give a shout.”
He chuckled to himself.
“Not that this one could do you any ‘arm, sirs.”
The door creaked open – with a brisk, business-like movement, the gaoler shepherded Raffy and Ithelus inside and closed it behind him.
They were in a surprisingly large cell – the bare bricks of the walls were stained with damp, and the floorboards bore a coating of old dust. Thin light streamed in from a single, narrow window in the thick wall that looked down on the courtyard, etching the shadows of its iron bars onto the dusty floor.
There was a dull scrape of wood – in the centre of the barren cell, a man had turned his splintered chair to face them, looking up at the new arrivals with an absent-minded curiosity. He had to be at least fifty, from his white hair and whiskers – though his clothes and cap were shabby and worn, they were of a cut that suggested a strange, decayed gentility. His hands hovered indecisively in front of him, his watery eyes flicking back and forth between the new arrivals – hesitantly standing, he made a little, twitching bow.
“Wilhelm Dort, sirs – ha - at your disposal. I am sorry that you find me in such – hum – unaccustomed conditions. Unfortunate conditions – ha – indeed.”
His eyes flickered between them again.
“I do not believe I have had the – ha – pleasure of meeting you gentlemen before. Please, do be seated” – he gestured to the deep window-sill as if it were a fine divan – “but – um - your names?”
Exeson
2010-01-12, 02:50 PM
Ithelus sweeps low and takes his hat off in one guesture.
'My name is Tra'chealt, I am here as an emissary for forces.... unnamed. This,' Motioning to Raffy, 'Is my retainer, and my city guide for the duration of my stay.'
He takes a seat, 'I would very much like to talk to you on behalf of my superiors, however I will first require proof of your identity, if that would not trouble, sir?'
Delberz Gaol
Dort looked at Ithelus intently, his wavering hands holding still for a long moment.
"I'm sorry, mister - um - Trachealt, but I don't know what proofs you think I have." He waved his hands at the cell around him. "I am - ha - confined, I am stripped of my liberty, my property. If you ask the turnkey, he will tell you. If you wish to ask the other - ha - inhabitants of this place, many of them will know me. I am - I suppose I am well-known here, and outside these walls." He sat up a little straighter. "Once these trifling matters have been set right, sir - a matter of mere weeks, I am sure, days, maybe - I will be happy to - um - entertain you on my own property, but at present my possessions are not at my disposal."
Another_Poet
2010-01-12, 03:03 PM
Before reaching the gaol:
Raffy nods his head. "Listen, about that 'magic'... can she control what she's doing?"
Once in the cell:
Raffy stands over near the ledge but does not sit as requested. He lets Ithelus do the talking, at least at first.
Exeson
2010-01-12, 03:21 PM
Ithelus smiles. 'But sir, I know a man of your standing would not be foolish enough to count among his possessions of value merely tangible objects.' he taps his temple, 'Paper proves nothing Sir,'
He pauses, 'what matters would these include?'
Delberz Gaol
The old man smiled weakly.
"I have unfortunately become embroiled in a dispute with an... upstart, by the name of 'Sergeant' Halbermann," he said, with real bitterness in his voice. "My circumstances may have changed since my youth, but I have always - ha - prided myself on conducting myself as a gentleman. I refuse to deal with such men, and as a result, he used his - hum - influence to confine me to this cell." The man sniffed. "Awaiting trial. He knows as well as I that there is nothing he can charge me with that will stand examination in a court of law. I will be free very shortly, of that I am - ah - very sure."
"But I must ask you again as to the - um - purpose of your visit. While it pleases me to have visitors, I have never heard your name before, mister Trachealt."
Don't forget Raffy's back-dated question in the post above. I wouldn't want to bulldoze over the conversation in the name of speed.
Exeson
2010-01-12, 03:49 PM
Delberz Jail
On the walk
'Her magic.... She is still getting the grips of it again, but remember she was once a strong Mage, trained in the use of the arcane for the benifit of the people, I try not to be fearful of that.'
Jail
Ithelus chuckled, 'Indeed the Hounds are known to me. He attempted to impose an 'ear tax' on myself and my retainers. Such a Xenophobic and barbaric tradition I had hoped would be removed since my last visit. Alas it seems not much changes in a hundred years.' He pauses, 'My intentions... well, as much as I would like to suggest that I am here on amicable terms my reasons are entirely selfish. There are some matters that I have been charged with resolving since the great invasion. I am working for the Wise Council in a position not totally unlike your Hounds. I am here to ensure that the seeds and roots of the Four have not found hold. Of course I have been tasked with tackling the issue with far more tact than so called 'witch hunters'
He gets up, almost ignoring Dort as he turns to Raffy, hoping that the man will catch on to his intended role as a retainer. 'The gunpowder please.'
Another_Poet
2010-01-12, 04:22 PM
Raffy
Earlier:
Raffy takes a few moments to digest the answer. After turning it over in his head a bit he comments, "I wonder which she'll get back first... the full strength of her magic, or her training to control it." It's said as a rhetorical question, not really one he expects Ithelus to have an answer to, although he does not try to avoid further conversation.
In the gaol:
As soon as Raffy heard the term "retainer" and saw Ithelus take a seat while he himself was still standing, he knew the role he was supposed to play and it's one he thinks he can pull off. He makes sure he's standing at an angle so that he can see the window on one peripheral, the door on the other, and Ithelus and Dort right in his line of sight. Bodyguard posture.
At the mention of "powder" he becomes a little lost and simply hands one of the paper packets for his 'buss to Ithelus. He does it quietly and obediently as if he knew what he was doing. But secretly he was unsure why Ithelus would want something from his own gun. It's not like they had a sample from one of the local dealers or anything. He just hands it over, stares past Dort and hopes for the best.
Exeson
2010-01-12, 04:32 PM
On the walk
Ithelus nods at Raffy's comment, not mentioning anything he gives a very 'it is a risk' kind of shrug
Jail
Ithelus takes the powder without so much as a thanks. He walks over to Dort and gives the packet to him. He returns to his seat and adds to his earlier speech, 'Recognise this?'
Delberz Gaol
Dort looked at the packet in his hand, and back at Ithelus.
"It is - ah - blackpowder. Are you making game of me, sir?"
Exeson
2010-01-12, 04:56 PM
Jail
'Forgive my rather toyish manner sir, yes indeed it is powder, which I'm hoping you will be able to tell me something about. The council, and to some extent your Empire officials recognize that Chaos is a far worse enemy than ordinary criminals, and in this business compromises can be made. What I'm looking for is information that could lead to any agents of destruction coming to suffer punishment, and I'm sure you realise the connection this powder poses. Although I do not possess as much sway in Human lands as elsewhere. What I'm saying is I can perhaps effect magistrates, in return for words the Council would come to value.'
He looks the man directly in the eyes, 'I make no pretenses of any promises sir, but business around the Crow increases every day, and time spent here is a waste no matter how short.'
Delberz Gaol
Interesting bluff. Test time: Charm (half of Fel - 36/2 = 18), + 20 for your appeal to trying to get him out earlier.
..and I forgot to put the roll in. Typical. And I can't edit it in either... to the OOC thread, I guess.
Dort regarded Ithelus in silence, a stillness settling over the man.
“You – ha – seem to know a lot about me, sir. While I know very little about you. It seems to me that I have no guarantee that you will help me as you promise, while you question me about the very same work that the man who placed me here claims to be engaged in. I have had quite enough of vigilantes, mister Trachealt, and unless you can produce proofs of your own authority, I must suspect you of trying to lure me into incriminating myself.”
He gave a small, quiet smile.
“It is a small comfort to me that Halbermann must resort to such desperate strategies.”
Exeson
2010-01-12, 05:25 PM
Jail
Ithelus nods. He stands and takes the powder back from Dort. He walks to the door and turns to Raffy. 'Break his fingers' He says, dead serious.
...
After a pause he starts laughing amicably and motions for Raffy that it was a joke. 'I like you sir, you cover your back well, and your disdain for the Hounds is well placed in my view. If only they were not so.... zealous in their actions they might have actually got somewhere instead of barking up trees, if you will excuse my play. I will leave you to your peace, who knows I might come back if I have some free time.' He opens the door and lets Raffy out, and just before exiting he turns again to Dort. 'By the way, Sir, your distrust is valuable, but not well placed this time I feel.' He shows Dort the Captains's signature and seal. He pauses slightly, almost lingering, as if there is more he wishes to ask but instead he leaves.
As they exit the prison Ithelus turns to Dort. 'He is not to be allowed any contact with other prisoners our outsiders until I return, I must consult the Captain before we can progress with this.' e drops two shicllings into the guard's hand. 'Ensure these are carried out personally please, kind sir. It is of utmost importance.'
Delberz Gaol
Dort watched them go in silence, the expression on his face a quiet mask of insulted dignity. As they left, the turnkey nodded, pocketing the coins and slamming the cell door shut again. The key clattered in the lock.
"Right you are, sir. When might you be returning, sir?"
Exeson
2010-01-12, 06:18 PM
Jail
'As soon as I can speak with the Captain, which might take longer than I would like considering his schedule. Perhaps a day or two.'
As they walked round the corner Ithelus turned to Raffy. 'Well... that was useless, perhaps I should have just come clean with him...'
Did Ithelus see Dort's reaction at all? To the joke and what he said and did afterwards?
amgodtic
2010-01-12, 06:27 PM
Seth smiles broadly. "My employers asked me to withhold their names for the time being, but once these blackguards are brought to justice, I'll be certain to reccomend you. Um, if you have something, a card, or a piece of paper I might write your name and address on?"
Unless the shopkeeper attempts overmuch to pin him down for more info, Seth bids him good day. Outside, he starts heading toward Neumarket. Turning towards Lothar, he says "Seeecond verse, same-as-the-first!" with a wink.
Greitling’s Store
“Jakob Greitling, Altmarket Square, sir,” said the burgher, tearing a page from a ledger and scribbling it in a broad hand on the back. “Very glad to make your acquaintance.”
[hr]
Neumarket
Karlsen’s shop was a little harder to find – the Neumarket sprawled across several ragged squares and streets, and its dirty shop-fronts were obscured by a multitude of stalls, wagons and stacks of crates. The people here dressed poorer, spoke less, and were more numerous, the boiling crowd of human traffic threatening to separate the trio more than once.
In the end, they found it in a strange, crooked corner of the market – its windows had lost their glass and been boarded up as a consequence, but the multitude of prints in the mud outside the door suggested it still saw a great volume of custom. A battered sign had been nailed up over the entrance:
Karl Karlsen’s blackpowder Emporium
Powder and Shotte is what We’ve Gotte
Pushing open the door, Seth stifled a cough at the strong chemical smell that assailed him from within – the inside of the shop was dark (due to the lack of windows), a single, glass-shielded lantern burning on the counter. Like Greitling’s, the place was festooned with blackpowder weapons – unlike Greitling’s, they seemed in a uniformly poor state of repair, for the most part stacked like tumbledown piles of lumbers in corners or crates.
A sooty face that was half obscured by a ferocious, brindled beard of sharp black hairs popped up above the counter like a Jack-in-the-box, Karl Karlsen’s grimy face looking around at his ‘customers’ with sharp, jerky movements. The man was at least a head shorter than even Illiiya, almost mistakeable for a Dwarf – scuttling round to the side of the counter, he gave them all an appraising look, taking particular interest in the elf.
“You come to buy powder? Guns?” he snapped. “What’s yer business?”
amgodtic
2010-01-12, 06:52 PM
I give him the exact same spiel. No reason why not.
FS 39: [roll0]
Karlsen's Store
“Can’t help yer,” the man grunted, breaking eye contact. “I tol’ the Guard when it happened, I don’t know nuffin’.”
He wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.
“You goin’ to buy something?”
amgodtic
2010-01-13, 09:24 AM
"Not the business I'm in. If you happen to think of something that could help, I could make it worth your while. My employer is prepared to offer a reward of one gold crown for any leads that might aid me."
Another charm roll, in case you think adding a bribe qualifies me. If he still says no, I bid him good day and we head towards the meetup point, I suppose (unless Illiya and Lothar have another idea).
FS: 39 [roll0]
Karlsen's Store
Karlsen looked Seth up and down, a greedy glint in his eye.
"Kind of men you're after, could be dangerous. One shiner, ain't much in the way of compensation for risk."
He leered, showing yellow teeth.
"Make it three, an' maybe I might... remember something."
Another_Poet
2010-01-13, 02:43 PM
At the Jail
Raffy
Thankfully Raffy is too surprised to comply quickly with Ithelus' finger-breaking order. He keeps a stoney face as he considers what to do, and it about to turn and at least threaten the man when Ithelus reveals it was an, er, "joke." If all elves have this sense of humor...
Once outside he seems to be in good spirits and to have forgotten all about the tension. He whistles as they walk toward the pawn shop.
OOC
"Make it three, an' maybe I might... remember something."
Now that he's said that, the question is whether amgodtic is going to leap on him and beat an answer out.
Exeson
2010-01-13, 02:56 PM
Ithelus walks next to Raffy. He looks at him for a second. 'Maybe.. Maybe you want to take the lead on this next one?'
Another_Poet
2010-01-13, 05:19 PM
Raffy the Sparrowhawk
Raffy speaks as if he's already given it some thought.
"If we go see his front man he'll know someone's looking into him. Best thing to do is approach him personally, even if he doesn't like it much. Just one of us though - the other should stay nearby as surprise backup in case he decides to be uncivil."
He ponders. "Me, I'd rather be the surprise, just because you have more of a way with words. That suit you?"
((if yes))
"'Course we need an excuse to be there in the first place. Got any good lies to approach him with so he's not so on guard?"
Exeson
2010-01-13, 05:23 PM
Ithelus grins, slightly too quickly. 'Oh, I'm sure I can think of one or two.'
He strides forward as to put a good sized gap in between himself and Raffy, and heads for the pawnshop.
Pawnshop
The pawnshop was tucked away in a narrow lane behind the Crow, gold paint flaking from the three tarnished metal balls that hung over the door. The rain-stained gables of the houses narrowed the sky overhead to the merest slit, casting the length of the muddy alley into shadow.
Stepping to one side of the door, Raffy nodded to Ithelus – the elf pushed open the door, the hinges creaking irritably at the intrusion. Inside, the shop was a profusion of odds and ends, a battered trumpet lying on top of what looked like it might once have been a rather expensive chest of drawers. Along one wall, there were racks of clothes of wildly varying quality, while several cases of books had been allowed to spill across the dust-covered floorboards.
A withered old man looked up at the elf, his face scrunched up in a short-sighted squint – he kept squinting as he took in the unusual nature of his visitor, his irritable expression vanishing into wary confusion.
“What?” he managed.
“Excuse me – I’m looking for Dietlief Kleiner.”
“Is he looking for you?”
“I don’t think so.”
Pursing his lips as if sucking on a particularly bitter lemon, the man reached over, picking up a lead-handled cane that stood by his chair. Holding it by the wrong end, he thumped it three times against the low ceiling, each thump dislodging a thin drizzle of dust.
After a long pause, there were creaking footsteps, as if from a hidden stairwell – a nondescript door at the back of the shop opened, and a hulking mountain of a man squeezed impossibly out of it, filling the space between the floor and the ceiling most impressively.
“This elf here says he wants to see the boss, Bruno.”
‘Bruno’ looked from the pawnbroker to Ithelus, and back.
“The boss ain’t got no elf appointments today,” he rumbled. “Boss ain’t had no elf appointments ever.”
“’E says he knows.”
The big man looked Ithelus up and down with a professional eye.
“You want to go up, I’ve got to search yer. Fer weapons.”
amgodtic
2010-01-13, 05:48 PM
Seth strokes his chin, then shrugs non-chalantly "Hm...admittedly, we're getting blackballed everywhere else; I'll simply tell Maloy the information came from multiple individuals." He digs out a couple more crowns and hands them over.
Karlsen's Store
The man took the money with a sneer.
"You're not fooling anyone, lad. You tell Dietlief I give him my regards. 'Bout time the god-botherers up at the Temple started squeezin' him for results."
Sweeping the shining coins out of sight, he looked sharply up again.
"The old temple going up - no-one could have hid the fact they were buyin' that much gunpowder, not if they were Ranald hisself. I saw it, and it was a right spectacular job - all the stained glass blowin' out, and they were stone walls, mind you, too, tumbling down like old timber. I never sold that much, and if old Greitling had grabbed a profit that big, soft in the head as he is, you can bet he wouldn't be sittin' about in the same old shop as he is now. They must have brought it in on a barge, or in carts, when it was dark like, from somewhere out of town. Maybe they stole army supplies. I dunno."
He leaned forward.
"But, just recent like, I've got a right rum cully coming in 'ere, saying he wants to buy powder. He's not army, he don't work for any of the lads round here who might... occasionally... have use for guns and such, and he's buying it by the barrel, a few barrels at a time - no shot, no guns. I sell to anyone who can pay, but there's something about that man that makes your hair stand on end. Always dressed as if it's pourin' with rain, and with an ugly burn down one side of his face. Always had mates to do the lifting, but they never said a word. Don't know that I even saw most of 'em's faces, all swaddled up like their pal."
He leant back again.
"He an' his chums bought a fair few barrels before they ran out of money. Bought 'em in ones and twos. Day b'fore yesterday, he asked for credit, so I ran him out of the shop. Glad to see the back of him, honestly. Unless 'e's test-firin' a cannon somewhere out in the woods, I don't know what he could have wanted it for. You want to go pokin' your nose into people with blackpowder on their hands, you ought to go looking for him."
amgodtic
2010-01-13, 06:38 PM
With a quizzical expression, Seth shrugs. "Any leads as to where they might be found, or where they might be bringing their purchase?"
Karlsen's Store
The merchant shrugged.
"He never gave his name. With a face like that, though, someone must've noticed him about the place, even with all these newcomers in town."
"He had his own men to take the barrels away, like I said. Where they took 'em, Morr only knows."
Another_Poet
2010-01-13, 09:48 PM
Outside the Pawnshop
Raffy takes a place beside the door, only a few feet down, rest his back against the wall and waits, keeping his ears sharp in case of any scuffle inside.
He plans to check on Ithelus after a few minutes just in case.
"Checking" means this:
After about 4 minutes go by he'll enter the shop as if he is just a random customer. He'll look through books. If Ith is there he'll pretend he doesn't know him. I'll let LCP decide when it's been 4 minutes - I doubt it has been yet.
goblinpaladin
2010-01-14, 03:59 AM
On the way out of the first verse, Lothar grinned and nodded to Seth. He fell into an easy pattern alongside the squire; casual, and keeping an eye around him. Mostly on the elf, though, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.
At Karlsen's the former soldier lost no time in resuming the same lyrics as the first verse- experienced gunner looking at supplies. He whistled tunelessly under his breath while doing so- this place was clearly the kind that catered to anyone.
The merchant's information was helpful-- and matched what had been said about the lads squatting in the basement on the west side. Lothar felt like a character from cheap theatre that had come across a tobacco tin.
Exeson
2010-01-14, 12:11 PM
Pawnshop
[/spoiler]Ithelus nods, and with a deft movement he pulls out a concealed throwing knife from his sleeve. And a second one. And another one. He flicks his dagger from his belt and places them on a counter next to the other knives. He then strolls over to the mountain of a man and stands in front of him, arms and legs slightly spread.[/spoiler]
Pawnshop
The man gave him a quick but professional-seeming search, checking his sleeves, boots and the inside of his jacket for any more knives. Seemingly satisfied, he stepped back, indicating the staircase with a grunt.
"You first."
The staircase was narrow to the point of claustrophobia, the scarred wooden steps buckled and bowed by age and the weight of use - Bruno somehow fitting into the narrow stairwell behind him, Ithelus emerged into a large attic room. A broad, square window that took up a fair proportion of the slanting ceiling let in the sunlight through its grimy panes, making the elf blink after the gloom of the pawnshop: this room too, was cluttered with all manner of strange odds and ends, but not in the way of wares. Stacks of yellowing paper lurked in the corners, tumbledown piles of what looked like ledgers, letters and every conceivable object in between waiting to fall on an unwary bystander. Around them, iron-bound chests and trunks, each with its own lock, cluttered the bare floorboards.
In the centre of the room, a small, middle-aged man sat in a rickety chair - the seat's sides had short poles attached, like the world's cheapest sedan. Two more men, not quite as impressive as Bruno, stood behind it, watching Ithelus cautiously.
"Turn me round, boys," wheezed the man in the chair - acknowledging his order in silence, the two men lifted the chair a little off the ground, turning it to face Ithelus. The elf noticed the man's legs were covered by a tattered blanket - was he an invalid?
"So," he said, drawing out the word with a wheedling, cunning tone. "What have we here, Bruno?"
"'n elf, boss. Says he wants to talk to you."
"I've never had dealin's with any elves, Bruno. You know that."
"I know, boss."
The man's eyes flicked quickly to Ithelus. He was poorly-shaven, with yellowing teeth, unwashed, greying hair and a protruberant, coarse-skinned nose: his clothes were rather shabby, and he sat hunched in his chair like an old man. Nevertheless, the three big bruisers currently surrounding them seemed to treat him with an air of almost reverential respect.
"So," he repeated. "What's your name, and what do you want with me, Mister Elf?"
Exeson
2010-01-14, 01:38 PM
Pawnshop
If only this was the first time Ithelus thinks with a metal sigh.
'My name's Ithelus, and I want Halbermann's ears, but I need your help, sir.'
Pawnshop
“Dietlief Halbermann?” chuckled Kleiner. “Got on the wrong side of the Hounds, have we? That’s common enough in Delberz these days, Mister Elf. Might be best for you just to get over it.”
He squirmed into a slightly more comfortable position in his chair.
“But, I am a man of business, and as you wouldn’t come in here unless you had some kind of business proposition to be makin’, let’s hear it. You want my help. How – and what’s in it for me?”
Exeson
2010-01-14, 02:54 PM
Pawnshop
The corner of Ithelus's mouth twitches slightly. 'Well you see sir, at the moment Halbermann is not the easiest person to clean. First the Hounds need to be stopped, that is why I'm here. I plan to remove the hounds power by catching the criminals who blew up the cathedral, and afterwards....'
He takes a step forward. 'Of course, I'm not exactly a man of strong repute, I can always repay you with my services.'
Pawnshop
Kleiner snorted.
“And what ‘services’ can you offer?”
Exeson
2010-01-14, 03:10 PM
Pawnshop
Ithelus fishes into his sleeve and pulls out a set of lockpicks. 'Well, I can use these fairly well, but more importantly I have access to some pretty nice places...'
He chews his lip,
'Sir, to be brutally honest I have tried to leave this life behind, I have very little wish to involve myself with the underworld again but I realise that you are my best hope.'
Pawnshop
Kleiner gave Ithelus a long, calculating look.
“You say you want to catch the men that did for the old temple. They’d be dangerous men, in my ‘pinion. Von Kemperbad says it’s worshippers of the Four what done it, and I’m inclined to believe him. You sure you want to go pokin’ around in their business just to get even with some half-wit guard?”
He clicked his fingers, jerking his head at the man on his right – the bodyguard fetched one of the battered ledgers that littered the room, placing it in Kleiner’s crooked hands. Laying it across his knees, the man opened it, thumbing through the dirty pages until he came to where they began to be blank – realising his free hand was empty, he clicked his fingers again, impatiently repeating the motion until the man brought him a bottle of ink and a frayed quill.
“Ain’t many men in my line of work who can say they’ve got an elf on the books,” he grinned. “It’s a temptin’ offer, Ithelus, and that’s the truth.”
He rolled the ink-bottle in his hand, still holding onto it.
“But I was talkin’ about dangerous men, wasn’t I? Halbermann, he’s got a lot of clout, even if maybe that’s not goin’ to last. Man of business like myself doesn't want to rile the Sergeant up if he can help it, you understand. Ol’ Dort trifled with him, and look where that’s got him. Proud old bugger,” he muttered, viciously. Seeming lost in his thoughts for a moment, he snapped back to Ithelus.
“You din’t answer my other question. You say you want my help. What exactly is it you want me to do?”
Exeson
2010-01-14, 03:49 PM
Pawnshop
'You're the biggest man in this city at the moment sir, and the second biggest is both behind bars and not very helpful. I just want some information sir, some leads as to who has done it. Anyone acting suspicious like round the time? Any newcomers in town who disappeared again? Heck, anyone who you think might be able to tell me these things. And perhaps once the plotters are gone and the Hounds broken... I'm sure you have no love for the dog either.'
Pawnshop
“I think we’ve got a deal, then, Ithelus.”
He gestured to one of his men, who pulled across a cracked coffee-table as a stand for the ledger. Laying the heavy book down facing the elf, Kleiner leaned forwards, placing the ink and quill next to it.
“Sign your name there, and you join our little family. I think a month’s work will do, eh? Maybe after that, you’ll reconsider about leavin’ this behind.” Kleiner’s yellow-toothed grin widened. “We take half your takin’s. Most here find it worth the price. And we do expect there to be takings,” he said, fixing the elf with his beady eyes. “You can make your first payment... on Bezahltag.”
He cocked his head to one side.
“That is, if we can do business?”
Bezahltag = 5th day of the 8-day week. Today's Wellentag, the 1st day.
It goes:
Wellentag
Aubentag
Marktag
Backertag
Bezahltag
Konigstag
Angestag
Festag
Exeson
2010-01-14, 04:11 PM
Pawnshop
'Sign my life away for a month on the hope that you can give me leads? Done that one before sir.' Yeah, had to skip Nuln pretty sharpish after that little episode, just hope they can't check me up against that.. '
He thinks about it for a while.
'What kind of takings do you expect? How hot do your Fences take?'
Pawnshop
"I wouldn't go gettin' too flashy," he said. "The Hounds don't concern themselves very much with your regular crimes, but with the current... atmosphere, if you like, we don't want to make ourselves a scapegoat." He smirked. "Show us what you can do in your normal line, and come Bezahlstag I'll tell you if it's good enough."
Exeson
2010-01-14, 04:33 PM
Pawnshop
Ithelus paused. He pulled out a schilling, 'Well, as you said you ain't had an Elf on the books.... Crest I do 2 weeks work and pay you half, Tails I do three weeks work and pay you two thirds?'
He looks the old man straight in the eye, hoping he won't notice the way his hands are shaking, be it from nerves or the pump of gambling.
If I need to roll a charm test: [roll0]
Pawnshop
Kleiner raised an eyebrow.
"Tails you do the month at two thirds, and it's a bet."
Exeson
2010-01-14, 04:50 PM
Pawnshop
Ithelus flicks the coin into the air, his eyes fixed on it as it travels. He opens his hand to catch it but just as he closes his hand the coin slips between his fingers and bounces twice on the floor before landing Crest up.
'Um..... er, woops. Crest it is! Wow, that must have sure reassured you of my skills, no?'
Ithelus walks over and puts a scrawl on the page. He then nods and picks up his coin.
'well, sir, what can you tell me?'
Pawnshop
Looking a little disappointed, Kleiner sat back in his chair, interlacing his fingers.
"Well, speakin' as one professional to... another," he said, his eyes flicking down to where the coin had fallen, "the old temple job was masterf'lly done. Now if I could tell you who done it, you can bet they wouldn't still be walkin' free today, not with the bounty that went out... but the organisation, the powder, all that in secret - that took some brains, and that took some money. No return in it for 'em, either, not that I could see... so someone was in it who had money they din't mind spending. But then you could work that out for yourself, couldn't you?" He smirked unpleasantly.
"None of my boys would ever get involved in somethin' like that. There's plenty who don't like the Church now, with the new cathedral goin' up so grandly when there's folk starving in the streets, but the old Temple weren't so big, and the old Lector weren't so grand. There's always a bit of tension between the Sigmarites and the Ulricans - the bigwigs in Altdorf don't dare put a Lector up in Middenheim, so Delberz gets 'em - but it's never been that bad, and gunpowder ain't their style."
"'Owever, there are a few lads round here who have gone a bit Southern in their ways. Some of 'em's well-off, and they're very full of fine ideas. Do a lot of talkin'," - Kleiner looked a little disdainful - "about the 'rights of man' and such. They're very keen on that." He sniffed. "But there's common men who follow 'em, and common men tend not to have space for many ideas at once, they jus' choose one. That we should all have a vote, that's one o' their favourites. Almost as popular as thinkin' we shouldn't have to pay taxes."
He sniggered.
"They were around b'fore the Storm came, and they had a fair following then. Sigmar, he's god of the Empire, ain't he? You want to take a stab at the Emperor, the temple's a big target. Bunch of young men, all full of ideals - no-one's sure who's in charge, and if some of 'em split off, get a bit more radical, who's goin' to shop 'em to the Guard? Not their old friends, still talkin' bout the bloody rights of man. Not 'til the Temple goes up, and it's too late, anyhow."
Kleiner leaned back in his chair. "Not saying it ain't Chaos, mind you. Could be both, for all I know. But I don't reckon the Guard chased those young men up half as much as they oughter. Maybe their fathers' money had somethin' to do with it." He shrugged. "The top crowd still hob-nob in the Tongs, but I know a few of them as used to follow 'em. Prob'ly still do. Things have got a bit quieter on that front since the Hounds started prowlin' around, but in my experience, you put a lid on a pot an' it just boils harder."
He prodded one of his bodyguards, keeping his eyes on Ithelus.
"Frankl. Get me my list."
"Which list, boss?"
"Ain't you listenin'? The right list. Fetch it!"
The bruiser skittered sideways, absurdly cowed by the little man in the chair. Scrabbling among one of the precipitous stacks of paper, he returned with a yellowed, curling piece of parchment, which Kleiner snatched from his hands, perusing it at an arm's length.
"Hans Fleischer, rents a garret twenty-four Entwurf street. Ran with a crowd who'd go 'round takin' down bailiff's notices. Otto Brun, on Gebildeter Lane - same. Magda Gebenluft, used to stand on a box down the Neuemarket an' shout about things." He winced. "Dreadful racket she made. Lives down Farben Alley."
"You want to hear what happened to that lot, ask them three. They were the chiefs, leastways, they were among us lowly mortals in the Lower Town. Got their ideas from the posh boys, 'course, but sometimes they ran with 'em a little further than expected. They don't work out for you, maybe I'll find some more names come Bezahltag."
He rolled up the piece of paper, handing it back to his guard.
"That all, Mister Ithelus?"
Exeson
2010-01-14, 05:56 PM
Pawnshop
Ithelus listens carefully, and asks for the names to be repeated. He then bows slightly to Kleiner and turns to leave, but pauses.
'One thing, if I'm to go back to old ways, can you tell me where I can get some loaded dice?' he chuckles slightly.
Pawnshop
"Albrecht Lochimkopf sells that sort of thing, if you know how to ask. 'E's got a stall in the Neuemarket, next to the butcher's. Can't miss it."
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