[WFRP] The Hour After Midnight (III)

[LCP]

IC Thread I (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=134405)
IC Thread II (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=160225)
OOC Thread I (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=134406)
OOC Thread II (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=160767)
OOC Thread III (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=179780)

[hr]


THE HOUR AFTER MIDNIGHT
Chapter IV: The Rats In The Walls
Continued...

Raffy & Pieter

Moving very slowly, the guard who did not have Raffy’s sword to his neck unlocked the smaller door within the gate, shaking his head.

“You don’t know how much trouble you’re in. Trust me, things’ll go easier for you if you drop this, lad.”

On the other side, the paved courtyard before the keep was visible, dusted with white patches of snow in the darkness. The black outline of the curtain wall rose all around it, the motley construction of the old keep itself gleaming at random intervals with the odd window that was lit from within...

OOC: Any precautions in proceeding?

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter and Raffy

Pieter glanced sideways at Raffy in the vain hope that he would reconsider.

"Leave the door open," he told the guard.

Always have a way out...

[Another_Poet]

Raffy and Pieter


Raffy looks to Pieter to see if he is going to break and run.

Assuming there are still two of them, he suggests "Hoch" should get a hold of the other one.

"Which way?" he says, and nudges the man he has to lead them on....

[LCP]

Raffy & Pieter

"Elf's down in the old dungeon," said the guard under question. "Under the Lanthorn tower." Seeing his captor was not familiar with the castle layout, he nodded in the direction of the courtyard. "Little door on the left."

Manoeuvering their captives awkwardly through the narrow doorway, the two stepped out onto the other side - briskly frog-marching their captives across to the door in question, they hurried across the expanse of open space as quickly as they could, the falling snow cutting the night's visibility down to a blessed minimum.

The door itself was locked - reaching hesitantly to his belt, one of the captive guards produced a ring of keys, holding it out in the hope that one of the madmen would use it rather than him.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter and Raffy

Pieter impatiently snatched the keys from the man's hand, unlocked the door and turned the handle. He then forced the guard to enter before him.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy and Pieter


Raffy keeps an eye on the way behind them, and points his pistol at the loose guard in case he gets any ideas while Pieter unlocks the door.

[LCP]

Pieter & Raffy

On the other side was a dark corridor with walls of bare stone - at its end, a spiral staircase wound both upwards and downwards, a thick, scarred wooden door with iron supports standing in the wall to its side. By the age of the timbers and the general architecture, this was clearly one of the older parts of the castle.

Stumbling over the threshold, the guard looked fearfully around - from just behind the doorway and to the left, there was a loud, startled snort, as of a man waking from sleep. A stool clattered against the stone floor, and a dark figure stood up, peering around the doorway with a bleary air.

"Hello?" said the door guard, peering at the guard on his side of the threshold and then out into the night. "Who's - Sigmar's blood!"

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter and Raffy

"Stand aside, friend," said Pieter quietly. "This doesn't need to get ugly. We'll be out of here in a minute or two, and no one will be harmed."

[Another_Poet]

Team Awesome


Follows along and will move past the startled guard if he doesn't cause trouble, free pistol trained on him.

"Do you have the keys to her cell? She has something we want," he whispers to the guard he holds. He hasn't yet stated they're actually freeing her, and intends to leave them some sense of hope that they won't.

[LCP]

Pieter & Raffy

Stepping back, the third guard's hand went to the pommel of his sword - stopping there as the barrel of Raffy's pistol swung round to bear.

"No cell keys here, mister," he said quietly, his face difficult to make out in the darkness. "Only a couple of sets of them." Glancing sideways at Raffy's captive, he muttered under his breath:
"Gods damn it, Rudi, you really are a useless excuse for a guard."

Looking back to Raffy, he stepped back again, putting his back against the wall. His hand did not move from the handle of his weapon.

"Who are you, and what is it you want?"

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


"I'm just some peasant they call the Sparrowhawk," Raffy responds. "And this here is my friend, the Lector of Altdorf. Put your sword on the floor, slowly, and kick it away."

((There are 10 yards of rope total, we should be able to tie him up too. Are there any torches about? Or other flames?))

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter and Raffy

"You'd ask less questions if you were the one with a blunderbuss to your face," snapped Pieter, nervosity making him impatient. "Where did you lock up the Elf?"

Edit: Ninja'd.

[LCP]

Raffy & Pieter

"Elf's downstairs," he said, simply. Drawing his sword from its scabbard, the man carefully held it out and let it fall - then, at the top of his voice, he bellowed:

"INTRUDERS!"

OOC: There is a torch in a bracket, lighting the hallway.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter and Raffy

"Didn't see that coming," grunted Pieter. "Come on, Rafale!"

Ignoring the third guard, he pushed his captive toward the stairs.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy and Pieter


"Not until this guy gives me the key," he says, glaring calmly at the one who yelled.

To Pieter: "Hoch - the petard's in my bag. Might be good to grab that torch."

((sorry, I don't mean to be giving you orders, it's just Raffy's hands are literally full))

[LCP]

Raffy & Pieter

"I ain't got it," said the man flatly, meeting Raffy's stare. "Them as're standing guard in the dungeon do."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter and Raffy

"Damn the key," spat Pieter. "Blast the lock with your pistol." He turned to his captive. "You, get down the stairs. I'll be right behind you."

He took the petard under one arm and the torch in his left hand.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


"Thanks for the tip," Raffy says. "When your friends show up, tell them that if they annoy me, Rudi will be on his way to atone for his sins."

As he forces his prisoner along down the stairs, he says to Pieter, "They take this so seriously!"

[LCP]

Raffy & Pieter

Leaving the third guard standing in the gloom behind them, the two made their way to the staircase, herding their hostages behind them: from higher up in the tower, they could hear the faint echoes of voices stirred by the guard's call. They would not have long.

Down, down, feet pounding on stone steps that had been worn concave by countless feet: there were torches on the walls, but most of them were unlit, leaving the stairwell in darkness. Their hostages behaved for now, but Pieter had the feeling that had they been armed with something less instantaneously deadly than Raffy's guns, the guards would already have turned on them.

Coming to the bottom of the stair, they found themselves in a long stone hallway - through an archway on the left, Jagrun's old interrogation room was visible, its nightmarish ironmonger's-shop of jagged implements still dangling from their chains. Up ahead, the corridor turned sharply through ninety degrees - set into the wall at the corner, a large, arched pair of wooden double doors were visible, iron struts running out from their hinges to support their weight. A lit lantern hung on the wall beside them, shedding its yellow light through the gloom.

Raising his arm, one of the hostages pointed mutely at the doors...

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter and Raffy

Pieter banged on both doors with his feet, since his hands were full.

"Illiiya!" he called. "Can you hear me?"

[Another_Poet]

Raffy and Pieter


Either you've been lied to, or you're not there yet, Raffy thinks.

"Open it up, Citizen," he says to Pieter's hostage.

OOC:

LCP, dunno if you saw Pieter's edit on his previous post, but he took the torch so the stairs shouldn't be dark.

[LCP]

Raffy & Pieter

”Whatever you say,” said the guard, with a fatalistic air. Shuffling forwards, he pushed the doors open.

On the other side was a poky strip of space between two walls pierced with barred cell doors: in its centre, two wooden chairs and a tiny, crude table rested. Standing in front of one of them, a man wearing the white ribbon of the Hounds was facing them, a loaded crossbow aimed in their direction: behind him was Lothar, simply staring. By the light of their lantern, Raffy could just make out the pale oval of Illiiya’s face looking back from the darkness of the cell which the chairs faced...

OOC: Together again! Consolidate spoilers.

[hr]

Lothar & Illiiya

It had been perhaps an hour since the priest’s departure when Lothar found himself jolted from his dozing once more – his bleary brain laboriously parsing the stimulus that had startled him, he realised it had been a shout, from somewhere up above. The stone floors and walls of the dungeon had muffled it to almost nothing, but it had still just been audible.

The Hound had evidently heard it too – shooting Illiiya a wary glance, he stood up, picking up his crossbow. For a long minute, there was silence – then, footsteps became audible in the hallway outside, low voices coming closer from the direction of the north stairwell.

Footsteps approached, and there was a hammering on the doors that led to the cells, and then Pieter’s voice sounded out, calling Illiiya’s name:

“Illiiya! Can you hear me?”

The Hound raised his crossbow to aim it at the doors: the handle rattled, and they swung open. Beyond them, by the dim lamplight, four figures were visible: two unarmed men in the uniforms of the Guard, and behind them, the unmistakeable outlines of Raffy and Pieter. With Raffy’s blunderbuss and Jagrun’s pistols, they seemed to be holding the guards hostage...

OOC: Together again - how exciting. Consolidate spoilers from here on.

[-Sentinel-]

The gang, minus Ithelus

"Don't be a hero," Pieter advised the Hound, pointing the blunderbuss at his face. "Heroes don't live long."

[LCP]

Pieter

The Hound blanched - nonetheless, he kept the crossbow level.

"What's it you're doing, then? This is the Castle. You think you're goin' to get out of here by swingin' on the chandeliers?"

[-Sentinel-]

The gang minus poor Ithelus

"Maybe not. But I have the time to kill you ten times over before the guards arrive, and I have less to lose than you. Stand aside... you're not getting paid enough for this."

He glanced at Lothar and Illiiya. "Oh, hey. Good evening to you," he greeted them cheerfully. "It was Rafale's idea, I couldn't stop him," he added apologetically.

[LCP]

Pieter

The Hound's crossbow wavered, but remained where it was. When Pieter spoke to Lothar, he frowned, glancing round at the soldier.

"You're threatenin' me with that?" he said, taking a step back and motioning to the blunderbuss. "You know you'll 'it us both."

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya and the humans

Illiiya looked up with a start, her eyes going wide.

What? No! What are you doing? Illiiya said frantically, You're supposed to go! I did this so no one else would get killed! Why did you come back for me?

[-Sentinel-]

The gang

"Or I could ask my friend the Sparrowhawk here to shoot you instead. Surely you've heard of him?"

He turned to Illliiya, but kept the 'buss pointed at the Hound.

"I'll be the first to admit it was a stupid idea," he said with a wry smile, "but now we're here, and we're running out of time. Come, Illiiya. Mr Cat is waiting for you outside."



Edit: Ninja'd. Post edited.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya and the Blunt-ears

Y-you don't understand... Illiiya said, her head bowed, Wait... where is Ithelus? Is he all right? Why isn't he here?

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co.

"He's fine," Pieter assured her. "He just wasn't available."

His voice was confident, but he was growing understandably worried. A Hound was still pointing his crossbow at him, the place would soon be filled with guards and Illiiya did not even want to leave.

Curse your stupid plans, Rafale.

He ripped off his white ribbon and stuffed it into his slingbag. If he was going to die, he would not die as a Hound.

[Another_Poet]

Team Victory


Raffy says dryly to the Hound, "You see that under my friend's arm there? That's fuse cord sticking out of that. You know what that much powder can do? We're willing to make this a one way trip if we have to. Drop the crossbow, now."

((if he drops it))

He says as an aside to Illiiya: "I saw Ithelus earlier today. He wants you out too. What you did was brave and we look out for our friends."

[goblinpaladin]

Sorry, Ith

Lothar stared at the unfolding scene, the soldier's jaw open. Eventually his sleep-deprived mind gathered together enough to tell him that things are bad and he clambered to his feet.

"You... idiots. You blind, foolish, fish-brained, -ing mindless twits." Lothar snarled, stepping toward Raffy, his hands balled into fists. "First you out Illiiya- she's lucky she's not on fire right now, and that's thanks to ME. THEN you murder the Templar of Sigmar. Pieter starts a riot, and then legs it when things turn south. And now, now you break into the castle, attempting to rescue Illiiya when I -ing TOLD you I was handling it!" He was practically screaming now, right in the face of the two 'rescuers'.

Lothar slugged Raffy in the jaw- and he didn't pull the punch, either. "You are gettin' us all killed, you damn fool! I hope the sex with your whore was -ing worth it!"

[-Sentinel-]

The gang

Pieter would have applauded, had his hands not been full.

"See, Rafale, I told you it was a stupid idea. Now can we please get out of here?"

Oh gods, why didn't I walk away when I still could?

[Another_Poet]

Raffy and Co.


Since Raffy is holding a tied-up Guard with his sword to his throat, his first reaction to Lothar's swing is to duck behind the man....


Since Lothar missed, can I try to have him hit Rudi instead? An Ag roll I assume?

[roll0] v. 44


Raffy ducks behind his hostage, pulling the man along with him and just barely keeeping his chin out of the line of Lothar's swing.

"Easy Lothar," he says, "Easy..."

He chafes chafes at the comment on his "whore" but he tries to keep his cool.

"Lothar, she cast a spell on the witch hunter. She's in the same boat as me. Do you really think she's gonna win a trial?"

As Pieter pleads for them to leave, Raffy says, "Not without Illiiya. She went outlaw with me. This is the only way to save her." He looks at the veteran soldier. "Please, Lothar. You don't have to come with us. Just stand aside and let us get her to Ithelus."

((If he hears the sounds of guards coming down the stairs he will break off from the conversation and close the heavy door they came through. If there is nothing to bar it with he will grab a poker/branding iron from Jagrun's Elf-Friending tools and use that.))

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar et al

"Oh, no you don't, you little rat. You started the fight with the 'Hunter, you outed Illiiya- you caused this mess, and made things worse for all o' us by comin' down here when I said I had a gods-cursed plan. Don't snivel at me like- like Pieter. Illiiya's life is in danger and it. Is. Your. Fault. Because you're too busy gettin' serviced by a woman to realise she might not be what she seems."

Lothar snarled. "If we'd listen to Illiiya three days ago, this'd all be over with. Instead we're all like to burn because of you and that fish you call a head."

The soldier stepped around the hostage, grabbing again for Raffy. "You want to come rescue Illiiya outta here? Fine. Then you stay in her place, and meet the treatment you set her up for."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

"Rafale," warned Pieter, "with or without you or Illiiya, I'm getting out of here now."

Lothar was right, as always. The initiate knew he should have listened to him.

[Another_Poet]

Rafale the Suddenly Less Popular Sparrowhawk


Raffy grimaced.

"Wait," he says to Pieter. He looks Lothar in the eye. "Are you serious? If I give myself up, you'll let her out?"

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar doot doot Lothar doo doo LOTHAR

Lothar paused in his physical and verbal assault, clearly taken aback. "Are- you're serious?" He frowned. "It might make things worse for Illiiya- but the Lector, the Baron, the Captain and the entire Church of Sigmar would like to have you more, that's for damn certain. And then we can get back to actually findin' the -ing sorceress behind all this."

Lothar looked over to Illiiya. "What do you think, Illiiya?"

[LCP]

Not Ithelus

"We ain't lettin' anyone out!" shouted the Hound, his crossbow still wavering between Raffy and Pieter. "What kind of a soldier are you?" he said, looking at Lothar. "Lector's orders! We watch the witch!"

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter looked at Illiiya hopefully.

"Please, let's get out of here," he said softly. "Ithelus needs you."

He glanced at the Hound with annoyance. "Will you stop that already? You're not impressing anyone."

[Another_Poet]

Raffy & Co


Raffy lets out a laugh at the Hound's theatrics, and then just nods emphatically when Pieter scolds him.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya, in the eye of madness

It's all falling apart. Everything is falling apart. They don't understand at all. Ignorant fools. No... no that's not right. They're not doing it because they're stupid. They knew full well the risks coming here. They care. They earnestly care. They hate each other... but they care. They didn't leave me. I'm the only thing they can agree on.

But... would they want me if they knew? All the horrible things I've done? I deserve this cage for so many reasons. Why wouldn't they leave me here and just go live?

... why?

All she knew was... there were very few things in the world that mattered to her... and several of those things were in danger right now, because they had come to protect her.

Enough! She said, the sudden raising of her voice ringing out in the stone cells. No one is staying here to die. Not Raffy... and... not me. I did this to protect all of you because.... you're the only things I have. My... family.

She stepped up to the bars of her cell, expression gentle.

But if you did all this to help me... even though you all fight over everything else. I... I'll go. I don't deserve such loyalty. She said with a sad smile, her voice soft as she turned to the lone hound.

Please put down your weapon and step back... or I will tear your skin from your body with my mind, and summon live vermin within your entrails. She said to him, the threat made all the more disturbing by the fact that her gentle, oddly serene tone of voice did not change a bit. Unless you think you can kill everyone here with one shot.

[LCP]

Not Ithelus

The Hounds' eyes widened, his face going white as a sheet. Very quickly, he sat down, fumbling hands placing the crossbow down on the table.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

"Wise choice," Pieter said, trying not to sound too unsettled by Illiiya's threat. He looked one last time at Lothar and Raffy. "On my way out. Last chance to get out of this mess. Rafale, if you're staying, do you mind if we borrow your gear? We may need it."

He pointed the 'buss at the hostage with the manacles.

"You walk in front of us."

His main advantage was still the petard... provided that any guards he met did not think he was bluffing.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

No one stays. Illiiya said with firm insistence, leveling her eyes at Pieter.

OOC: As soon as Illiiya hits her new class, she is getting Intimidate. She's creepily good at it for a short, willowy elven girl. :smallamused:

[LCP]

Ithelus

Introductions made, Ithelus joined the men’s circle: grubby cards flicked across the table, coins pushed back and forth across the peeling varnish as the night deepened into the early hours. He was better than these humans, he could tell – but the deck seemed to have taken a slant against him, ending the night’s gaming eight pennies down.

The men around the table were clearly not willing to play any further: outside, it had continued to snow, slim drifts of white gleaming palely through the dark. Clearly the winter had decided to make its presence felt...

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar, Surrounded by Mad[wo]men

"Well," Lothar said, going pale himself beneath his young beard. "That's torn it, hasn't it." He ran his right hand through his hair and sighed. "Fine. I'll come with you. On one condition."

He glared at Raffy and Pieter. "That you two put this nonsense rebellious stuff behind you, and we find that sorcerer. We're running out of time."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

"Agreed," said Pieter firmly. "By this hour tomorrow night, we'll have taken that sorcerer down."

Or it will already be too late.


OOC: Is everyone ready to go?

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk, The Witch-Saint Illiiya, Pieter the Quick, Lothar Strongheart, and Three Flippin' Boobs


A tear escapes Raffy's eye when Illiiya says she will come along. He doesn't seem to notice it.

When Lothar lays out the conditions, Raffy nods. "Agreed," he says. "I had the misfortune of meeting our sorcerer today.... and he is a right bastard."

He shoves Rudi into Illiya's cell and orders the Hound in too. ((Assuming Lothar does indeed let her out.)) That leaves them with one hands-tied hostage, currently beside Pieter.

"Pieter, the buss will shred up a whole lot of men if they're close together. You keep that and give me the petard. We could take out 20 men with those two things alone. Illiiya, hope you can do that spell again if it's needed."

If Pieter gives him the petard he will put away his pistol and sword and hold bomb & torch instead.

He looks at the hostage. "They're loyal guards though. I don't want to kill any of them, if they'll just let us out."

((OOC: Is Lothar armed? If not there is the crossbow...))

[BloodyAngel]

Operation Breakout

They won't just let us leave. Illiiya said in a tone eerily calm, And I will kill everything in this building before I let them harm any of you.

OOC: Ready when you all are. Illiiya shall go all tranquil fury (http://www.google.com/cse?cx=partner-pub-6610802604051523%3A2szln92pqym&safe=off&ie=ISO-8859-1&q=tranquil+fury&sa=Search) on them!

[LCP]

Team Nutter

Their hostages secured, the rescuers and rescuees headed for the stairs: as they neared the foot of the spiral steps, they could hear agitated voices echoing down the stone stairwell – at least half a dozen men, most probably guards, coming their way...

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter nodded at Raffy, but swore to himself that he would not let him and Illiiya kill anyone if it could be avoided. They were in enough trouble already.

"Sorry, I'm not sure I trust you with the petard," he told Raffy. "Besides, you'll need your hands free for the fighting."

He turned grimly to face the oncoming guards.


OOC: This is also a strategic decision: I may be untrained in Intimidate, but at least I have Fortune points to re-roll my test if I fail. (I assume it will be a Fel-based test, so my target is 25.)

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


He nods. "Then give me the bluss. You can't use both."

To Illiiya: "You have any spells that just put people to sleep? Or shrink them or something?" ((i.e. nonlethal))

He holds the door, ready to slam it and bar it with a poker if needed, but waits to see what Pieter will say to them.

[-Sentinel-]

Team Nutter (I like the name)

"As you wish," said Pieter, handing Raffy his blunderbuss. "I'm not much into this killing thing anyway."

And you, at least, can't dig yourself any deeper.

They had to escape. If they were caught, it would be up to Ithelus to save the day all by himself.

[BloodyAngel]

Team Nutter-butter

They will show us no such mercy. Illiiya said coolly, And I would need to touch them.

She looked to Pieter evenly, before giving a light sigh.

I will try. It is all I can do.

[LCP]

Illiiya, Lothar, Pieter & Raffy

As they talked, the footsteps drew nearer, pounding down the stone stair - a crossbow in his hands, the first guard hove into view around the central pillar of the stairwell, stopping in his tracks as he saw Pieter and Lothar standing there with their weapons drawn.

The crossbow swung up - others were piling up behind him, one crouching on the steps to aim another such weapon at the group over the shoulder of the first.

"Stop!" shouted the lead guard. "In the name of the law!"

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter dangled the bag of black powder above his torch.

"Don't shoot," he warned, trying to sound defiant. "I can blow us all up. Just step aside, please, we don't want to harm anyone."


OOC: Already rolled that test, and it was a failure.

[LCP]

Illiiya, Lothar, Raffy & Pieter

The crossbow swung to bear on Pieter - behind the man, the other guards were jostling, trying to see what was going on.


"Don't shoot," he warned, trying to sound defiant. "I can blow us all up. Just step aside, please, we don't want to harm anyone."

"Then you'll drop it, lad," said the guard, sternly. "If you know what's good for you."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter barked an almost-laugh.

"Yes, sure. If I drop it on the torch, we all die. Better not try anything stupid."

[LCP]

Pieter, Illiiya, Raffy & Lothar

Slowly, one step at a time, the guard began to descend the last few steps towards the ground, making space for those behind him. The crossbow remained trained between Pieter's eyes.

"I'm guessing you didn't plan on dyin' today any more than we did," he said, his voice level. "There ain't no way you're goin' to get out from down here even if you set that thing off, so why don't you just be reasonable and set it down instead?"

Behind him, two more crossbows were now aimed over his shoulder, one fixed on Lothar, the other trying to draw a bead on Raffy past the Sparrowhawk's reluctant hostage.

"We've shut the gate. Only one stairway up from down here. Face it, lad - you want to be charged with murder as well's all else you've done today?"

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter licked his lips, his eyes never leaving the crossbow pointed at his face. He would certainly not be the one to attempt something reckless. Leave that to Raffy or Illiiya...

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Illiiya watched the men file in... bravado bolstered by their numbers. Numbers, they had... but they were still humans. Ignorance and fear dwelled in each of them.

Tell me, human. Do you want to see how Jagrun died? She asked the one who seemed most full of bluster, her voice deadly calm, Do you think we have anything left to lose here? Do you want to see how many of you I can drag screaming to hell before you manage to stop us? Faith and bluster could not save your hunter... and there were but two of us then. Do not try this.

Illiiya stepped out from behind Pieter, staring the center man down with a cold, unflinching gaze. Death seemed preferable to the tortures they would levy upon her if she were caught again.

[LCP]

Pieter, Illiiya, Raffy & Lothar

The guard looked disconcerted by Illiiya's words - but he did not lower his weapon. Behind him, one of the other crossbows swung to bear on the elf.

"Look, all of this talkin' ain't of much concern to us, miss. We've got our orders. 's more than my life's worth to let you go." The guard looked around the group, trying to maintain his tone of authority. "Now, you're all going to start by puttin' your weapons down, slowly. Then, your friend here is going to let our colleague go. You come quietly, maybe that'll count in your favour."

He paused, watching their faces.

"I ain't goin' to tell you again."

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


((OOC: the petard is a small keg, not a bag))

Raffy smiled approvingly at lliiya's words - a wicked, distant smile - at Illiiya's words. When the guard didn't move, he spoke up too.

"You're right that my friends here want to live," he says, "But I've already been made a murderer. I'd rather kill of you and die myself. Shall I start with your friend here?"

Keeping his buss pointed in their direction with one hand, he draws his sword with the other and lays its edge against the hostage's throat, hugging the man to himself as he had with Rudi.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

As you wish it human. I will die for them, if I must. Let us see if your men will do the same for you.

We are wasting time. Illiiya said, stepping back alongside Raffy. They are stalling for reinforcements to come... I would guess. Let us just do this, then.

She paused a moment, before giving a soft sigh.

I have never had friends. I... I just wanted you all to know that I appreciate what you've tried to do. No matter how it ends.

[LCP]

Pieter, Illiiya, Raffy & Lothar


Raffy smiled approvingly at lliiya's words - a wicked, distant smile - at Illiiya's words. When the guard didn't move, he spoke up too.

"You're right that my friends here want to live," he says, "But I've already been made a murderer. I'd rather kill of you and die myself. Shall I start with your friend here?"

Keeping his buss pointed in their direction with one hand, he draws his sword with the other and lays its edge against the hostage's throat, hugging the man to himself as he had with Rudi.

"He was thick enough to get himself caught. We're in more trouble lettin' you folk go than if one of us gets cut up bringin' you in." He glanced uncomfortably at Raffy's hostage. "Sorry, Sigric."

"I think if you came in here for your friends, mister, then you want 'em to live, too. So we'll start by putting the sword down, aye?" His finger tightened on the trigger of his crossbow. "Last warning."


As you wish it human. I will die for them, if I must. Let us see if your men will do the same for you.

We are wasting time. Illiiya said, stepping back alongside Raffy. They are stalling for reinforcements to come... I would guess. Let us just do this, then.

She paused a moment, before giving a soft sigh.

I have never had friends. I... I just wanted you all to know that I appreciate what you've tried to do. No matter how it ends.

"I said enough!" shouted the guard, clearly unnerved by the elf's strange mode of speech. "Weapons down!"

[BloodyAngel]

It hits the fan

Your choice is made.

Illiiya raised her arms high, calling to the Dhar in the same even tone she spoke with. Her every word and action deliberate and determined... there was no doubt in her now.

Vashaan tal uluien. Fai trill tesh' Mensha Khaine.

The winds swirled about her in a way now familiar to her friends... the sounds of distant shrieks and wails seeming to come from the air itself. It encircled her only once, as she channeled the Dhar... forcing it to act as she willed.

Casting Magic Dart at the talkative one. Maybe his nerve will break a bit after he eats blade wind and a blunderbuss to the face. :smallamused:

Channeling roll:

[roll1] or [roll2] +1 if channeling successful!

Damage, if successful: [roll3]

Er.... crap. In a sterling moment of hubris... it seems Illiiya has miscast. So... that's fun. How do you want to roll that out LCP?

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar and some CRAZIES

Lothar put a hand on one sword. "No bloodshed! These men are just doing their work."

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


Raffy shoves Sigric the hands-tied hostage to one side, but instead of leveling his 'buss he reaches forward and grabs the fuse cord trailing from Pieter'e petard.

And passes it through the flame of the torch.

He looks at the captain who has been threatening them.

"Run," he says with his wolfish smile.

OOC to all:

LCP, we never specified how long the fuse will take to burn, other than me saying it was a "long" fuse cord. That could mean anything from 30 seconds to several minutes, at your discretion (though I assume we have a rough idea, so let us know what you decide).

My hope here is that the guards will run from the bomb, and we can run after them, hurling it away when it is getting close to exploding. Might get us to the top of the steps at least.

[LCP]

Illiiya

Drawing the Winds around her, Illiiya felt a lurch in her stomach as they slipped from her grasp, a low cackling echoing in her skull – then, as swift as a rising breeze, she heard a whispering, growing louder – it came from behind her, from the direction of Jagrun’s old chamber. The torture implements were talking, a chorus of a hundred frightened voices rustling up out of the old, cold stone of the walls.

...please, please no...
...there must have been a mistake... please, my lord, you have to believe me...
...I’m innocent!
Interspersed between the sobbing, pleading spectres, scraps of Jagrun’s voice were audible, as hard-edged and collected as it had always been.
...such practices are forbidden, on pain of death. Surely you knew this.
...confess, and this can end.
...you will be purged of your magic by means of fire. Tomorrow, at dawn.

The screams grew louder, more agonised – clutching her hands to her ears, Illiiya saw ghostly flames leap up before her. They crackled and roared, choking black smoke obscuring the scene around her – she could feel the heat, feel the blistering of the skin on her toes as she struggled to free herself from the phantom pyre. And through the black cloud, the Witch Hunter’s face – watching with the cold satisfaction of a craftsman at work. The fire was searing her skin now, flesh blackening and bubbling as the stinging smoke clawed at her eyes...

By an immense effort of will, she clapped her hands over her face, shutting out the horrid sight – when she drew them away, it was gone. So, however, was the dungeon – a milky whiteness clouded her vision, the shapes of Raffy, the others, the guards all nothing but blurred ghosts. She was half-blind.

OOC: You suffer a -10% penalty to all tests involving sight for [roll0] hours.

Raffy, Lothar & Pieter

The others felt the hairs on the back of their neck prickle as the elf readied her spell – with a little cry, Illiiya stumbled, clapping her hands to her face. When she pulled them away, her eyes were pure white, irises and pupils covered by an unnatural milky film...

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Shaking his head Ithelus gets up from the table, 'Good game' he says. Then pulling his coat tight around him he ventures into the cold, heading for the Crow.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

It took Pieter an enormous effort of will to refrain from throwing the petard away from him. Yet it was possibly the only thing that kept the guards from pin-cushioning him with crossbow bolts.

He nearly dropped the petard again when Illiiya's spell apparently backfired, filling the air with so much uncontrolled aethyric energy that even he could feel it. The Elf's horribly white eyes made him shudder.

He knew how to seize an opportunity.
"Oh no, not that again," he whispered dramatically, the fear in his voice not entirely faked. Then, turning to the guards: "RUN!"


Some kind of Fellowship test: [roll0]

[LCP]

Ithelus

Setting out into the night, Ithelus headed in the direction of the river, jamming his hands into his pockets as he huddled himself up against the chill of the falling snow. The bruises Kleiner’s men had given him still ached, conspiring with the icy cold of the deep Middenland night as if to mock him in his loneliness.

Over the Delb, the north bridge deserted and dark: cutting south through the tangled streets to the north of the city centre, he slowed as he saw a ruddy illumination rising diffusely through the midnight murk, somewhere far ahead. Rising over the rooftops, it blossomed with orange light, twisting streamers of sooty black silhouetted against it – somewhere in the lower town, a house was burning.

As he watched, another little light bloomed, further away to the west. Drifting through the falling snow, the faint strains of shouting, crying voices were audible – fire...

[hr]

Not Ithelus

The guards’ eyes widened – whether at Pieter’s shout or Raffy’s ultimatum, it was difficult to say.

“Shoot it!” came a shout from somewhere at the back – there were three ludicrously understated thumps of bowstrings, and the guards turned to flee the way they had came, the fear of what horrors the elf's witchcraft might have unleashed overwhelming their discipline.

The three guards with LOS each loose against Illiiya. Well done, Pieter.

[roll0] - miss.
[roll1]
[roll2]

Damage:
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

That's 8 wounds, after TB.

They then take a Half Move back up the stairs. Those who couldn’t shoot are already Running.

Illiiya gave a small cry as two of the bolts found their mark, burying themselves in her left shoulder and slamming the elf's slight frame backwards...

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Stumbling along Ithelus's mind wonders to Illiiya. Lothar seemed to have things under control... and well if he didn't then there was little to lose right? His fingers circled the handle of his sickle.

Noticing the fire he almost choked in exasperation. 'Why doesn't this town just take a day's rest?' He stumbles on, changing his course to the nearest fire.

[LCP]

Ithelus

Through narrow alleys, open streets, the swirling snow thickening as it tried to cloud the way ahead – Ithelus made his way by the glow of the fires, more breaking out in ones and twos in seemingly random locations as he hurried through the streets. He was nearly at the Neumarket when he saw them – Hounds, stumbling out of a tumbledown house as it began to burn. Commoners were crowding round, one of the militiamen stumbling out of the burning building with a child in his arms as a screaming woman beat her fists against the chest of another. The light of the fire flickered and danced through the swirling darkness of the night, the confusion of smoke and snow lending the whole scene a surreal, insane quality.

Two more Hounds backed out through the door, burning torches still held out in their hands – slamming the door behind them, they hurriedly backed away, forming a group of five with their comrades. Around them, people were already shouting for others to bring water, the upper windows shattering as tongues of flame leapt towards the heavens from their ravaged frames: the militiamen recoiled in fear as the door burst open, a black tide of rats flowing out into the street in all directions. Rats were tumbling from the windows, scuttling down the outside of the walls, making for the drains as they escaped the burning house: the crowd of onlookers screamed and scattered before them, the Hounds forming a huddled island in the sea of fleeing rodents.

”Someone get the Sergeant!”
”Everywhere! Oh gods, they’re everywhere!”
”It’s the witch’s doing! Just like the Lector said!”
”Water! Before the whole town goes up, water!”

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar drew his sword. "When we get out of here, Raffy," he growled through gritted teeth, "we are going to have words." He ran towards the guards, his sword held low.

"Pieter! Grab Illiiya, bring her with us! Raffy- you're in front. No more murder!"

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter put out the petard's fuse under his boot: if need be, they could light it again quickly. He threw his torch away, wrapped his right arm around Illiiya's body (careful not to brush her... wounds), and half-carried the Elf toward the stairs.

"Stay with us, girl," he murmured. "I'll take care of you as soon as I can."

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk and the TEAM OF HAPPY JOY TRIUMPH


Raffy is half-reaching for Illiiya already when Lothar tells Pieter to get her. He sees the initiate stamping out the fuse cord and smiles. Since the guards had already run, it was a good call.

"Good man," he says. Then yelling up the stairs for the guards' benefits he calls, "Bring the petard! We only have a minute!"

He takes off running up the stairs, readying his net in place of his weapon, in case anyone tries to block his way.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

The gentleness and serenity faded. Foolish. Everything had gone too well for too long... and she had felt confident that she could rend the Dhar as she willed. An act of desperation that felt oddly familiar.

What was more familiar however, was the fire. She felt it surging through her. Past her. Around her. Everything burned, and her gasp of pain only brought scalding air to her lungs. Around her... the shrieks of the dying echoed in her head, and it took her a moment to realize that her screaming was amongst them. Gavinsburough... She had tried so hard to forget... only for hubris to pull her back there now.

With a dull thump, the two bolts lodged themselves in her small frame... and it was not until then that she realized that what she saw was not happening. Everything looked hazy around her... as if she were dreaming. But the pain was real. It had to be real... didn't it? Had it ALL been in her mind?

Illiiya slumped over onto Raffy, clinging to him tightly, as if any moment he might fade away and leave her alone. Her calm confidence quickly replaced with a growing panic.

N-no! Please! I don't want to go back there! It hurts! Everything hurts! She muttered, clutching at his shirt and seemingly in too much shock to have noticed her wounds.

Blood smeared on Raffy's tunic as she held onto him desperately, weakness and injury overtaking her as she struggled to keep her feet.

Please... p-please... Not here... She mumbled to him, Please do not let me die here...

[LCP]

Not Ithelus

Practically carrying Illiiya along with them, the group took off in the direction the guards had fled, leaving the shackled Sigric behind: they could hear the guards running ahead of them, pulling away as the wounded elf slowed them down.

Traversing the steps quickly in the lead, Raffy came to the ground-floor corridor through which he and Pieter had entered: there was a clear path to the door. Standing in the doorway of the side-room that led off before the stairway, however, two of the guards were standing, one crouched on one knee to allow room for the other to aim as they fixed their crossbows on their target.

“Outside!” shouted one of them, holding the stock of his weapon more tightly against his shoulder as he caught sight of the others. “Now!”

There was a wooden clatter from somewhere on the staircase above – it sounded like the other guards were waiting around the next bend of the stairs, covering the hallway from the rear. They wouldn’t want to give the Sparrowhawk free run of the castle, after all...

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


"Pieter! Bring the bomb!"

He looks to Pieter and Lothar below him on the stairs, and jerks his head skyward as if to say "We're going up."

((Waiting for answers to questions in OOC thread before deciding how to go about this))

[LCP]

Team Nutter

"No! Leave the bomb!" shouted one of the guards, both of the two in the doorway tightening their aim on Raffy. "Leave it or we shoot!"

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


Raffy backs down the stairs a few steps to be out of their line of fire.

"If we leave it, will you let us leave the castle?" he yells.

[LCP]

Raffy & the Team

There was a short pause. Then the guards spoke up again:

"Roll it over here before you. Then we'll let you go."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Can't complain I have a boring life, thought Pieter.

"Rafale," he shouted, "you can't seriously think they'll just let us leave? The bomb is our key out of here."

He kept the petard under his arm, but remained several steps behind Lothar, out of sight of the guards.


Edit: Ninja'd twice. Post edited.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy & Co


Raffy keeps a low voice. "We can either try to bargain, or try to force our way to the ramparts. I have a rope so we can climb down."

He looks from Lothar to Pieter. "Which is it?"

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar shook his head. "You didn't have a plan?" he hissed. "Idiots. I didn't survive the Storm to die by your stupidity." He sighed and looked at Illiiya, then back to Raffy. "Illiiya's in no condition to climb a rope that might not even be long enough. For that matter, neither are you- you w're half dead after that fight. How are you even upright?"

"How long's the fuse on that thing? Light it, roll it over- while they stamp it out, we can rush'em, knock 'em down, and move on. Rollin' it over without a light, they're just gonna shoot anyway." He glared at Raffy. "They have a murderer and heretic to catch, here, they're not givin' up easy."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

"Frankly?" Pieter snapped to Raffy. "I don't think we stand a chance to fight our way out."



"How long's the fuse on that thing? Light it, roll it over- while they stamp it out, we can rush'em, knock 'em down, and move on. Rollin' it over without a light, they're just gonna shoot anyway."
Lothar's plan was a longshot, but Pieter was willing to attempt it: it was their last chance. Letting go of Illiiya, he fumbled for a match.


OOC: Not sure keeping a low voice is going to make much of a difference if the guards are close enough to have you in your line of fire.


Edit: Ninja'd again. Post edited.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy


He shakes his head. "They closed the gate. If we go that way, we'll need the bomb to blow it," he says.

((So is Illiiya actually unconscious? I thought she was just partly blind and wounded.))

He yells to the guards:

"We're coming out with the bomb, and it's not lit. When we see an open gate, we'll drop it and leave. Deal?"

[LCP]

Raffy & co.

A long, long silence.

"Deal."

OOC: Illiiya's not unconscious - just two low-rolling crossbow bolts in the shoulder.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I don't trust them, Rafale," he warns. "Neither should you."

Still he decided to follow Raffy's lead: if things went wrong, they could always improvise... It had worked well until now, had it not?

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


Raffy takes Illiiya from Pieter's shoulder and helps get her on her feet.

"Okay," he whispers. "If we look out that door and the gate's not open, Pieter, you light that thing. We run up the stairs and try the rope. But if the gate's open, we run for it, and put down the bomb as we go through the gate. They might try to pincushion us so move quick and don't look back. Ready?"

If they are, he leads the run for it.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter swallowed hard and let out a grunt that was supposed to mean: Whatever.

[goblinpaladin]

Team Sodding Stupid

Lothar nodded. "It'll do. If we get killed, my ghost is going to hunt you down in Morr's kingdom."

[LCP]

Raffy, Pieter, Lothar & Illiiya

Emerging slowly from the stairwell, Raffy stared down the guards in the doorway, half-carrying Illiiya with him: their crossbows tracked him in silence, eyes fixed on his face.

As Lothar and Pieter left the stairwell, the guards on the bend behind – four, in all – spread out into the corridor, cutting off their line of retreat – the three who had fired on Illiiya were finishing reloading their crossbows, one already taking aim like the two in the door. All movement in the corridor was slow and careful, the tension singing in the air like a taut bowstring.

Keeping a wary eye on each other, the escapees passed the two guards, the men’s eyes flicking over their opposite numbers in quick suggestion. Almost simultaneously, they fixed on the unlit bomb in Pieter’s hand – as the initiate passed them, there was the merest flicker of understanding between the two guards before they suddenly barrelled forwards, doing their best to pin Pieter against the wall.

Two half moves, two grapple attacks!

[roll0] - hit
[roll1] - fails, Pieter is grappled

[roll2] - hit (Pieter is grappled, => +20% to WS tests against him)
[roll3] - fails

I refrain from writing any further consequences explicitly for now, in case Sentinel chooses to use a fortune point to re-roll the avoidance test.


Behind them, the line of four raised their crossbows in unison, a confusion of shouting voices making the stone corridor ring: the message, however, was plain enough

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

OOC: Resume previous initiative order – so you all have an action before the guards can act again.

Combat map!
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/SuicideAlley.jpg

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk and--What Just Hit the Fan?

Raffy rushes to the crossbowmen guarding the staircase and casts his net over one of them.

"You fire, you'll hit your own men you morons!" he bellows at the rest of them.


[roll0]

I forget if it's a BS or Ag test. BS is 53, Ag is 30 minus the plague penalty

edit: damn

"Cast, Illiiya! We need you!"

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Illiiya was all but carried upstairs... shaking and muttering to herself. She was far from unconscious, but seemed out of it. She kept babbling to herself about fire and daemons.

R-raffy? Are you here? You're not supposed to be here... She muttered as she heard his voice cry out. I... I can't see right... S-something... is wrong.

She struggled to look around the room, barely able to make out the many shapes... far more than there should be, in fact.

No... n-no more. No more. LEAVE US ALONE!

Illiiya let out a piercing shriek as the winds whirled around her... and began a low, determined chant... speaking almost too fast to be heard.

Er... what are the odds it happens twice?
Casting "Sounds"

Casting Roll: [roll0] or [roll1] No channeling this time.

AWESOME! 8 succeeds.

Illiiya gave a piercing shriek as the winds made the sound of tearing and burning... mingled with the discordant sound of the thousands screaming and shrieking "things" that she had seen on so many nights. It felt as if the air itself reverberated with unseen footsteps, and the chittering, daemonic "things" that stood just out of sight drew closer with every breath. It was the sound of every nightmare she had tried to forget. It was the sound... of Gavinsburough. Of the things that she had felt pulling apart her mind in strips and mocking her pain in wordless voices that she had done everything she could do to forget.

If I must go to hell.... YOU WILL ALL COME WITH ME! She screamed, her delicate form shaking as she barely managed to stand on her own.

This was what a witch looked like.

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar grabbed at the nearest guard, trying to wrench him away from Pieter.

[roll0] -WS 45

[LCP]

Raffy, Lothar, Illiiya & Pieter

Taking aim at Raffy, the guards at the end of the hallway stumbled back as they heard the terrifying wail of the Winds - their wavering weapons sought to find a clear shot on Illiiya, but their struggling colleagues were in the way.

Writhing in their grasp, Pieter managed to wriggle free of one guard - the second pinned him down, calloused hands wrenching the petard from his own. Standing up and staggering back with their prize, the two men paled at Illiiya's spell - they were clearly ready to run.

OOC: Pieter didn't roll to break free - I assume he does?

If so, Opposed Strength tests:
[roll0] [roll1] - breaks free
[roll2] [roll3] - remains grappled.

Then, the two guards try to prise the petard from his hands, which I rule as another opposed Strength test: whether they succeed or fail, at the end of their turn they break off the grapple, as Illiiya gives them the heebie jeebies.

[roll4] [roll5]
[roll6] [roll7] - relative success for the guard

The other guards back off to the very back of the corridor.

Combat map:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/SuicideAlley-1.jpg

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus's limbs lock up, his heart almost freezes and the grinning skull whispers in his ear. It's begun, you can't run from this, come.... join us. Drawing his sickle and a dagger he wills his body to move, making his way for the Hounds.

'What the **** is going on?' he shouts.

[LCP]

Ithelus

"Stay back!" shouted one of the Hounds, two of his friends pulling the screaming woman away. Between their feet, the last of the rats were scampering away, some still falling from the windows of the house with their fur on fire.

"The rats've killed again!" came a yell from the crowd.
"You can't burn 'em out! You'll set fire to the whole town!"

All across the east side, gleams of fire and smoke were rising - clearly the Hounds were out in force tonight. Unlucky for the residents of Delberz, then, that the rats had chosen tonight to cross their path.

"Rodric, run an' tell the Sarge," muttered one of the Hounds to his companion. "We ain't findin' any Sparrowhawk in this mess." Raising his voice, he turned to address the crowd. "The rest of you, stop gawping and fetch water!"

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter scrambled to his feet, his eyes flicking left and right.

"Lothar... Grab her and get out."

He lunged at one of the ashen-faced guards in a last-ditch attempt to retrieve the petard.


If a WS test is necessary: [roll0]

Strength test:
Pieter [roll1], guard [roll2]

(Is that a full action?)

[Another_Poet]

Raffy and Co


"Someone open that door and see if the gate is open!" Raffy hollers.

His hands free of the net, he runs toward the torch on the wall (south one square, west 3 squares). He draws his buss with one hand and reaches for the torch with the other.

Probably gonna have to go up, he thinks.

[goblinpaladin]

Seeing the madman Sparrowhawk reaching for the lamp and his buss, Lothar shook his head. Taking Illiiya firmly by the hand, he made for the door, kicking it open...

[LCP]

Raffy, Illiiya, Pieter & Lothar

The door flew open with a bang - across the courtyard, through the dark and the falling snow, Lothar could see by the light of a single, distant lamp that the gates were closed.

Standing in front of them were four guards: they had evidently seen Lothar, as their crossbows rose to their shoulders...

OOC: Just waiting on Illiiya's action now, I believe.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

It hurt... Everything hurt. As the wailing and shrieking of her nightmares echoed behind her, Illiiya followed Lothar's lead out the front. The guards off in the distance had clearly noticed them... Everything was falling apart.

L-lothar... I... I don't mind dying this way. She told him, her voice oddly still, I just wanted you all to escape. Why did you have to come back for me? I... was ready to go. I...

She looked out at the guards... then back to the human soldier. Looking torn and confused... as well as in a lot of pain.

I... won't leave them. Please do not make me.

With that, she turned back to the interior of the place, and began to channel again. The winds stilling and ceasing their shrieking as they whirled about her again, this time more... aggressively.

Casting Magic Dart on the closest guard I can see, the one grappling Pieter, if possible.

No channeling, as she likely used her movement following Lothar this far... though since she moves farther than him, she'll take a one-square move back into the building, and into a spot where it will provide her cover from the men outside if they shoot. (If that's possible, that is)

Casting Roll: [roll0] or [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

The Dhar beckoned her call, as she forced down her fear of it. Nothing on the other side of the Aethyr scared her as much as knowing that the only people she had ever cared about would die here trying to save her. The shrieking wind rushed from her, slicing into the flesh of a guardsman like dozens of blades drawn across his skin... riddling him with a score of thin, bloody cuts.

[LCP]

Pieter, Raffy, Illiiya & Lothar

As Raffy ran for the torch, the line of crossbows in front of the stairs rose up – bowstrings thudded back, and a hail of bolts hurtled towards the Sparrowhawk.

The 4 guards at the back take half-action Aims, then shoot.

[roll0] - miss [roll1]
[roll2] - hit [roll3]
[roll4] - miss [roll5]
[roll6] - miss [roll7]

That's a hit to the right arm - inflicting 9 wounds after TB and armour, and taking Raffy straight down past zero into the criticals.

The speeding bolts struck sparks from the bare stone of the walls, Raffy dancing through the volley as if his life was charmed - that was, until he reached for the torch, the fourth bolt slamming straight through the bones his hand and halfway out the other side. Face going chalky white, Raffy stumbled, blood pumping from the wound as if it was all too eager to be free of his veins...

By the door, meanwhile, the guards who had wrestled with Pieter stepped back as Illiiya’s magic moaned through the air, one raising his arms in fear as the invisible blades flicked and sliced, scoring through his tabard and shrieking against the cheap mail beneath. Blood dripping from a dozen small cuts on his hand, he looked at his comrade, he drew his sword, looking to his comrade: the two of them hesitated, their fear of her magic and Lothar’s presence beside her giving them pause.

One guard takes 3 wounds from the magic dart, after TB and armour deductions. The two of them Ready their swords: one takes a Defensive Stance, while the other uses a Half Move to move one square.

Outside, the guards by the gate had clearly seen Lothar open the door – Pieter heard a shout as they began to accelerate across the courtyard, seizing up halberds in place of their crossbows as they made for the tower entrance.

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar and the Band of Fools

Quick as a flash, Lothar's sword was back in his hand. "If that's the way yer playin' the game, Illiiya, that's the way we gotta play. Pieter, do somethin' about that idiot boy if you ain't gonna draw steel."

Holding the sword alongside his face, the soldier grinned, whitish teeth gleaming. "C'mon then, if you're hard enough," he growled as he charged at them.

[Exeson]

Ithelus
This is your chance... your wish is here.... here is your chaos The grinning skull whispers into Ithelus's ear. With a grin he hides his weapons in his coat but still keeps them drawn and follows this 'Rodric' at a distance, hoping then man finds the Sargent quickly.

[LCP]

Ithelus

Slipping through the clamouring crowd, Ithelus struck off after Rodric, easily keeping pace with the hurrying human as the snowy darkness kept him concealed. Every corner he turned seemed to hide more Hounds, groups of them dashing past this way and that – either the east side of town was host to the annual Hound party, or they were up to something big.

At length, he came to a wide street near Helstrum’s Ward – in the middle of the street, two militiamen stood to either side of the Sergeant himself, various groups of militiamen running up to him before running off again into the fire-speckled night. As Ithelus watched from the cover of an alleyway, Rodric approached, beginning a frantic, gabbled report – from the look on his face, Halbermann wasn’t happy...

[-Sentinel-]

Super Pieter to the rescue

Damn it, Lothar. Not you too.

Shaking his head, Pieter turned away from the courtyard and strode towards the wounded Raffy. A quick glance told him that the boy would be dead within minutes if nothing was done. As he walked, Pieter raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. He was no longer afraid... he was by now too weary to care.

"Let me save him," he told the guards coolly. "Then we'll surrender."


OOC:
I was going to wait for Raffy's death roll, but RP-wise his state is probably uncertain. If he does lose a Fate point, Pieter's medical attention will be a convenient way to explain his survival.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


"Gaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, augh, ah," he moans as his right forearm is punched through. The torch drops to the floor, guttering on the cold stones.

He opens his mouth to speak but just gasps at first.

"Fine," he manages. He stalks two paces toward the guards and lifts the bluss with his left hand. He steadies it with the bleeding leftovers of his right arm, none of the fingers on that hand properly gripping it at all.... but for better or for worse, it's all the aim he's going to get, and he pulls the trigger....

Actions


Half action: move two squares south, so that I can cover 3 of the 4 guards with the blast of the bluss.

Half action: fire that bluss.

BS [roll0] v. 53 (minus any modifiers for steadying it with a stump rather than a hand; the stats I have for it don't indicate whether it strictly requires two hands or not.)

I already made my death roll for the round in the OOC thread and succeeded.




OOC:

Well, least I ain't chicken.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Raffy! Illiiya cried out in shock, stumbling her way towards the injured sparrowhawk... and picking up the torch at his feet. You will leave him alone!

With that, she stumbled her way for the bomb. She would see everyone here dead before they felt the tortures that the Lector would have ordered upon them.

[LCP]

Raffy, Pieter, Lothar & Illiiya

The blunderbuss roared in the narrow confines of the hallway, the guards staggering back with their blue and black uniforms shredded as the blast of buckshot struck sparks from their mail. Forearms running with blood, they threw their crossbows down, three of them encircling their attacker as their swords flashed through the shadows of the hallway - Raffy ducked and weaved back to avoid the slicing blades, managing to master the pain and light-headedness as adrenalin surged through his veins to keep him off the end of a sword.

"You stay back!" shouted the fourth, moving to block Pieter from assisting the surrounded Sparrowhawk with his sword outstretched in warning. "Back!"

Opposite Lothar, the guard with the petard struck back, his own sword scarring the soldier's shield - gauging the strength of Fischer's defence, he moved onto the back foot, watching his opponent in readiness to block any further assault. Beside him, his other comrade slipped back, turning to Illiiya as he heard the elf skitter behind them - raising his weapon, he stepped up to the elf with the point outstretched.

"Put it down," he said, carefully. "Now."

OOC: Of the two guards in contact with Lothar:

One takes a full action to Disengage, moving into contact with Illiiya.
The other takes a Standard Attack against Lothar, then enters a Parrying Stance.
Attack rolls:
[roll0] - hit
[roll1] - parried
[roll2]

Of the four guards at the back of the hall:

Two are in contact with Raffy: they Ready their swords and each make a Standard Attack
[roll3] - miss [roll4]
[roll5] - miss [roll6]

Two are not in contact with Raffy: they each Ready their swords and make a half move to two different positions, as seen on the map.

NPC Injury Total:
The guard in contact with Lothar has taken 3 wounds from Illiiya’s Magic Dart
The right-hand guard in contact with Raffy at the back of the hallway has taken 2 wounds from Raffy’s blunderbuss.
The guard in contact with Raffy between Raffy and Pieter has taken 3 wounds from Raffy’s blunderbuss.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"Rafale!" Pieter's voice cracked like a whip. "You're dying. Stop this madness and let me help you."


OOC: I'll wait a bit before I take my turn.

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar

"Sigmar's blood!" Lothar cursed, pushing back against his opponent. "I don't want to hurt you, lads," he added as his regimental sword slashed through air toward his opponent.

Swift Attack, WS 45.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Illiiya weaved aside her opponent, uttering only a few short words in elven as she stepped towards the man with the bomb, and reached out for him with her free hand.

Casting Sleep on the guardsman! I will spend a fortune point at any point in this process, to ensure I succeed.

Casting Roll: [roll0] or [roll1]
(if failed: [roll2] or [roll3])

To hit with the touch. [roll4] vs. WS 40, due to Fast Hands
(If THAT fails, and I haven't spent my fortune point above: [roll5])

Assuming NOTHING goes wrong there... he has to make a Willpower check or pass out. *fingers crossed*

Edit: Oh thank GOD! Assuming I get the bonus for multiple attackers due to Lothar trying to gut him this round... that should hit. Thank you SO much Lothar!

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Team Suicide


"You stay back!" shouted the fourth, moving to block Pieter from assisting the surrounded Sparrowhawk with his sword outstretched in warning. "Back!"

"Just look at him, you idiot!" exclaimed Pieter, pointing at the semi-conscious Raffy. "Is he in any state to fight? Let me take care of him and I'll make sure to restrain him. You have my word."

Again, he showed the guards his empty palms.


Fel 51 if necessary: [roll0]

Edit: ...wow.

[LCP]

Raffy, Illiiya, Lothar & Pieter

Blinking, the guard stared at Pieter, some spark of humanity stirring within him - stepping aside, he made a lane for the Initiate, his comrades behind him still holding their swords warily out towards Raffy as the boy sank back against the wall, blood pooling at his feet from the gushing wound.

The guards facing off against Illiiya and Lothar were not so peacable - twisting out of the path of Illiiya's hand as the elf lunged for him, the man with the petard shouted to his comrade, the man turning and slashing at the injured witch. Beset on both sides by Lothar and the elf, the bomb-carrier himself raised his sword in defence, simply trying to survive long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

Which they duly did. The door banging wide open, the guards from the courtyard piled into the corridor, halberds levelled towards the melee before them.

"Drop your weapons!" the first of them yelled. "Drop your weapons now!"

As they shouted, Lothar heard Illiiya whimper - looking round, he saw the elf sinking down, clutching at a wound below her belly as the guardsman attacking her withdrew a sword red with blood...

OOC: The guard not in contact with Lothar makes an All-Out Attack on Illiiya.

[roll0] - hits, thanks to the +20 bonus for attacking all-out.
[roll1] - 6 wounds. That's a crit: see OOC.

The guard in contact with Lothar takes the Defensive Stance and Parrying Stance half-actions.

And, the four guards from outside appear in the doorway! Map coming up OOC.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"Thank you so much for allowing me to save a life," snarled Pieter, leaning over Raffy.

He was vaguely aware of more guards bursting into the corridor, but all his attention was on the wounded boy, who bled heavily from the ruins of his right hand.

Why am I doing this? They're just going to execute him anyway.

Still he got to work, if only for the principle. His training taking over, he moved quickly, as if by instinct. First he tied his rope tightly around Raffy's right wrist to cut off circulation. He reached into his slingbag for his near-empty bottle of spirits and poured the few remaining drops into the hideous wound. Then he lit a match and set fire to the alcohol to cauterize it. Raffy writhed in pain, but Pieter kept him firmly pinned to the ground.

"Hold on. Don't you die on me, Sparrowhawk."


OOC:
I assume I succeed automatically thanks to the Fate point... In case I don't, here's a Heal test at 47: [roll0]

I'm using a poultice, but I'm not sure there's a point. [roll1] wounds healed.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Illiiya fell to her knees with a straggled whimper, clutching at her wound. The torch clattered from her hands to the stone, and she looked desperately at her companions as more guardsmen filed into the room. They could not die here. Not for her... Why hadn't they just let her go?

Illiiya tried to move, but the pain was to much. Giving a pained cry, she fell to her side and curled up, as the reality of the situation crept over her, and she became fully aware of her wounds. Everything was ruined. All she could do now... was cry.

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar

The soldier paused in his fighting and stepped back from his opponent. "Aye, then." He threw down the sword in his right hand. "Let me see to the elf's wound, eh?"

[LCP]

Lothar, Raffy, Pieter & Illiiya

"Stay where you are!" shouted one of the guards, the others closing in in a circle of halberds. Lowering his sword, the man carrying the petard stepped back from Lothar, wrenching the fuse from the bomb and throwing it aside.

"Axel, get the shackles," said one of the men from outside - nodding mutely, the man who had injured Illiiya turned and headed through the side-door, vanishing from sight. Lothar's path to Illiiya was clear, but the halberd-points surrounding him on every other side made it very clear that the guards didn't want him going anywhere.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

"You won't get much use out of that hand, I'm afraid," Pieter told Raffy, not sure the boy could even hear him. "It's probably best to cut it off, but I'm not a surgeon."

He finished bandaging the wound and turned his attention to the crying Illiiya. Uncaring of the consequences, he unbuckled his sword belt, raised his hands and walked over to the Elf without even sparing the guards a glance.

[LCP]

Pieter, Lothar, Illiiya & Raffy

"Leave her be," said one of the guards, sternly, the edge of a sword blocking Pieter's path. Re-emerging from the side door, Axel returned with an armful of iron manacles.

"Shackle them," said the guard who had spoken. "Both of them."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Pieter scowled at the guard.

"You're in my way, friend. Either you let me pass or you get a damn doctor. I didn't go through all this trouble for her just to see her bleed to death in front of me. Listen, I'm a priest..."

He glanced at the wounded Illiiya, his features softening. It was all his fault (and Raffy's). He should have let Lothar handle this. Now they were all going to hang for this.


Edit: I'll roll another Fel test in the OOC thread.

[LCP]

Pieter, Lothar, Illiiya & Raffy

"Aye? Well, mister priest, I say you're a damn criminal." The voice was familiar - looking round, Pieter recognised the face of the guard he and Raffy had first held up in this very corridor. "And she's a witch, so let her bleed."

Rough hands grabbed Pieter by the arms, making to snap the shackles around his wrists. Opposite him, Lothar was already restrained, the soldier looking glumly at the guards surrounding him.

OOC: Just a pause for reaction to see if you resist. I already have GP's permission to move ahead via gchat.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Pieter did not resist.

"At my trial, I'll recommend you for a medal," he promised the guard, his face utterly straight. "It was very brave to call for reinforcements."

At least, Illiiya's wounds did not look immediately life-threatening... but they could fester.

[LCP]

Pieter, Raffy, Lothar & Illiiya

A calloused set of knuckles slammed into Pieter's stomach, winding him severely. A bristly-moustached guard leaned in close to his ear.

"Shut. Up."

The man straightened up.

"Gods-damned lunatics," he muttered to himself. The first one who had spoken nodded.

"Marquand, Tomas, hold the witch down. She might be fakin' it." He looked around. "Someone got something to gag her with? Don't want her casting no spells."

He glanced at Pieter and shook his head.

"'Trial'," he scoffed. "Like you're going to get one, mate."

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus remains in the shadows, watching the Hounds, hoping that a moment would come when the Sargent was left on his own. He will tail the man if he moves at all.

[LCP]

Ithelus

After a minute or two of lively discussion with the Hound who had run back to report, Halbermann and his subordinates headed off into the streets, Ithelus trailing discreetly behind. The murky night made the task of staying hidden from the Sergeant’s eyes all too easy, Halbermann’s voice drifting back like a beacon through the falling snow:

“...’s no good, Torben. Ain’t going to find either of them at this rate, and with the damn rats, half the town’ll be wakin’ up. The whole point of doin’ this at night was so that we didn’t have a riot on our hands.”

Somewhere over the rooftops, another fire blossomed, orange-lit smoke beginning to drift up into the night sky.

“Right, listen. Torben, you do the round of the lads, see if there are any of ‘em seen any sign of the boy or the lady. They ain’t, you get ‘em to pull back; they have, and you get the rest after ‘em. Dunner, you get anyone you can and head to the river, start organising a bucket chain or somethin’. People start lookin’ like trouble, either of you, what you tell ‘em is that we found the Lady and she summoned the rats to save her skin.”
“What’re you going to do, Sarge?”
“I get to tell His Nibs what’s going on, before someone wakes ‘im up to tell him the city’s on fire,” said Halbermann, sharply. “So you two’ve got it easy. Now jump to it!”

The two Hounds with him hurried away, splitting off in perpendicular directions – muttering to himself, Halbermann turned and headed south-east, striking off towards the centre of town alone.

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus smiles slightly and exchanges his dagger for a throwing knife. Ensuring that his hood is up he then shadows Halbermaan until there is a moment when the area is deserted and Ithelus can sneak up to within range, and then launch his throwing knife.

If such a moment presents itself attack: [roll0]

damage: [roll1]

[LCP]

Ithelus

Tracking Halbermann through the darkened streets, they were coming close to the Tempelplatz when the sergeant turned down a shadowed alley - seizing his chance, Ithelus scurried forwards, the knife spinning away blade over pommel towards the sergeant. It vanished over Halbermann's shoulder, the militiaman spinning round with a shout...

OOC: If you want to stay hidden, roll concealment, please.

[hr]

Raffy, Illiiya, Lothar & Pieter

Slinging Raffy’s limb form roughly over his shoulder, one of the guards straightened up, seeming to have the barest minimum of regard for the bleeding Sparrowhawk’s survival: another did the same for Illiiya.

“Arne, go run and tell Halbermann we caught his fugitive.” The guard who had spoken glanced towards the door. “Maybe he’ll call off his dogs before they take the whole town apart.”
“Some chance,” muttered another. “I don’t see the lady here. They’ll still be lookin’ for her.”
“Like it matters.” The authoritative one looked back at their captives. “You make sure they’re bound hand and foot – and gagged, in the witch’s case – and you dump ‘em back in the cells. Double guard. You think one of them’s in real trouble, send for the baron’s doctor – but you don’t let ‘em out of your sight ‘til morning.”

He paced over to Raffy, looking down at the unconscious boy.

“Don’t know who he ought t’be afraid of most... the Lector, or the Baron.” He looked up. “Either way, he’d best be alive to receive ‘em tomorrow. Get to it!”

Rough hands gripping Pieter and Lothar by the arms, the group were frogmarched down the stairs, Raffy and Illiiya carried behind them. Down the spiral staircase, through cell doors that slammed and sealed them one by one, alone, into the dark.

The night had won its peace at last.

OOC: More to follow.

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Swearing under his breath Ithelus turns on his heel and with one hand keeping his hood up flees back the way he came. His heart pounding, he wasn't going to risk a straight out fight with Halbermaan.

[LCP]

Ithelus

With a shout, Halbermann rushed to the end of the alleyway, halberd in hand - he did not follow Ithelus far, however, evidently none too keen on coming into close quarters with his hooded attacker if the attacker was willing to run away. Long legs pounding the street, Ithelus quickly distanced himself for the sergeant, fleeing into the shadows of the night.

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus stops once it is clear he is not being pursued. Waiting ten minutes or so he returns to the alley, checking for any signs that someone is around. If there is no activity he will attempt to retrieve his throwing knife and then continue on his way to the Crow.
search check if needed [roll0]

[LCP]

Raffy, Lothar, Pieter & Illiiya

OOC: You are in four, separate, adjacent cells. You can dimly hear what is going on in the neighbouring cells and the corridor outside, but the cells are windowless and the doors are solid. I spoiler things like this to avoid having four sets of spoilers that are largely copy-pasted with facial expressions &c. cut out – if you roleplay appropriately, all should be well.

Everything except your most basic clothes has been taken away. Those of you with critical injuries (Raffy, Illiiya) wake to find that you have received a bare minimum of medical attention. You are all bound hand and foot, and Illiiya is gagged.

IC:

Raffy awoke to the world’s worst feeling. His throat was parched, his fever running high – he felt as if he could barely move his limbs, the pain of the wounds Jagrun had dealt him stirring wickedly into wakefulness with the Sparrowhawk.

Sitting up, he felt a lance of agony shoot through his right arm – looking down, he felt his stomach turn as he saw the bloody lump that had been his hand. At some point when he was insensible, the crossbow-bolt had been removed – but what it left behind, tightly bound by bandages that by now were soiled red by the creeping flow of blood that still passed through the wound, was not a shape that any hand could naturally assume. Beneath the crusted blood, the skin was a corpse-white, Pieter’s tourniquet still in place: clearly those who had treated him while he slept had no hope of saving the hand.

Or didn’t think it worth their time, said a dark voice at the back of his skull, as a sound began to approach – footsteps, each clicking footfall echoing against the stone walls of the corridor outside as they drew nearer. A key grated in the lock – with a heavy creak, the door swung back.

Two guards stood there, their broad shoulders blocking the door completely – one held the key, another a torch, the sudden light of the burning brand dazzling Raffy’s dark-accustomed eyes. As the after-images of the dancing tongue of fire in the man’s hand cleared, Raffy became aware of a third figure, standing behind them – the guards made way for it, the tall silhouette stepping forwards as hazy double-images oscillated and focussed onto one all-too-familiar frame.

“So,” came the Lector’s soft, patrician baritone. “The infamous Sparrowhawk, brought to earth at last.” Behind him, the guards waited, their hands on the hilts of their swords. The high priest paused for a long beat, Raffy’s tired eyes bringing his features into focus: the gaunt old man seemed hardly better off, his pale face and dark eye-sockets seeming as if he hadn’t slept a second since the youth had last seen him.

“You have murdered an old friend of mine, boy,” said von Kemperbad, quietly. “You have murdered the Baroness, you have sheltered the wicked, and now Delberz burns because of you.” He paused. “I thank Sigmar that the Baron’s guards did not shirk in their duty, though I can take no pleasure in the capture of such a sacrificial pawn – not when the queen is still at large.”

He straightened up, a harsh edge entering his voice. There was something odd about the way he spoke – as if he was trying to reassure himself of what he said, as much as he was telling Raffy.

“This is the victory of Sigmar’s Church. Your schemes have failed, your strategies are useless. The Cathedral will be completed, and your mistress’ sorcerous reign over this town will be ended. Have you anything to say for yourself?”

[hr]

Ithelus

Creeping back through the side-streets, Ithelus waited until a reasonable amount of time had passed before returning to the alley where his attack had failed – Halbermann was gone, the knife thankfully still there. Evidently the sergeant had not been minded to rummage for evidence when more attackers might have been lurking in the shadows.

Making the quickest time he could back to the Crow, he paid the landlord’s fee and gratefully sank onto the cheap pallet his coin bought him: though his mind still churned with thoughts of Illiiya’s safety and resentment for Raffy, his aching body longed to sleep. Dotted beyond the rooftops around the tavern, the fires were finally being brought under control, smoke still rising towards the icy sky as Ithelus drifted off into sleep.

[hr]

Slanting in through the room’s sole, narrow window, the first pale light of dawn slowly stirred Ithelus into consciousness – practically falling out of bed, he stumbled out of bed, walking over to the frost-latticed panes of glass to look out over the waking city.

The roofs of the Lower Town were speckled white with snow, glistening drifts of the stuff lying in the streets – the odd flake still wafted down from the thick clouds, one settling on the dirty glass as he watched. Black ribbons of smoke still twisted lazily skywards from the smouldering remains of the fires, around a dozen different sites scattered over the east side of town. Seeing where they lay, Ithelus had a sinking sensation that he knew exactly where to place them on the city map – the rats were continuing their destructive path, turning north around the Tempelplatz as Lothar had predicted.

Outside, the streets had a certain subdued tremor to them – the people who were already abroad hurried through the snow with a quick, wary motion, not stopping to speak to one another. Something big was clearly in the air...

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar wriggled his way against a wall and the, using his hands to brace himself, into something resembling an upright position. He leaned against the rough stone, listening to the Sparrowhawk get his comeuppance- and found his distaste for the Lector only growing. Delberz burns, he thought. Survived the war, for this?

He badly wanted a smoke.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Pieter did not bother trying to rise... In his state of weariness, even the cold, hard ground felt comfortable. He just put an ear against the left wall of his cell and listened intently.

Delberz burns.

Had it already begun? Had Klaus and the others rallied their forces earlier than planned when they learned of the Sparrowhawk's capture?

Gods. I wish I could see this.

Waiting in a dark cell while the revolution raged... it was unbearable.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


Raffy can't stifle the anguish churning in his stomach and gripping his chest. His mind races like it always does, scrambling to find some kind of plan, some kind of creative way to make this all work. For the time being, the crushing price of his failure is the only thing he can think of.

It's not until the Lector starts speaking that he begins to get a hold of himself. He hates that man so much.... that it's show time.

"Why do you think I came here?" he asks, the sly note unmistakable even in his dry-throated voice.

[LCP]

Raffy &c.

"Because Samtzunge sent you," said von Kemperbad, simply. "To free your friend, or to silence her - as her servant did the apothecary. Your will is weak, boy. She has manipulated you as surely as any of her other puppets."

A sneer of contempt curled the corner of the priest's mouth.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


"So you didn't figure it out yet," says Raffy with approval. "Huh."

He slumps back against the wall as if completely content with the Lector's answer and his current situation.

[LCP]

Raffy &c.

The Lector paused, narrowing his eyes at Raffy.

"Do not play games. Your soul is at stake."

He looked his captive up and down.

"What other possible reason could you have had?" he said, semi-rhetorically.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk

Raffy looks back at the Lector with an are-you-serious expression. Then he chuckles. "You're a scholar, I thought you'd have figured it out already."

He coughs hoarsely and pushes himself with difficulty back into a sitting-up position, to look the Lector in the face.

"You're in a bit of a jam, you see. There are people who know we're here, people waiting for me. I've already missed the rendezvous. Don't you see what's happening out there?"

You bastards better be fighting hard, he thinks.

He slumps back for a second time. "You can't let me go, of course. But if you're holding me, they'll assault the castle. And if you execute me there'll be revenge killings and riots."

Raffy sighs and smiles as if completely content.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Pieter sank his face into his hands.

Rafale, you're either a narcissistic idiot or the worst bluffer I've ever seen. Rioters with torches and pitchforks are not going to storm a baron's castle just to free you. And the Lector knows it.

He did not like Raffy's association with the revolt, not at all. All because of him and Maria, anyone who defended the common people's cause in Delberz from now on would be branded as an agent of Chaos. Why was Klaus too stupid to understand this? Why hadn't he disavowed Raffy already?

[LCP]

Raffy &c.

“Storm... the castle,” said the Lector, slowly, staring long and hard at Raffy. “What do you believe is happening ‘out there’, I wonder?”

He leaned over a little, lowering his voice.

“Perhaps I will tell you. Last night, Sergeant Halbermann and his men were dispatched to scour the Lower Town for Samtzunge and yourself. Instead, they found Samtzunge’s rats.”

He paused, watching Raffy’s expression.

“They were too late to prevent the killings, but they did their duty as servants of Sigmar in attempting to destroy the vermin. The fires have taken until this morning to extinguish.”

The Lector straightened up.

“I have Aldric’s notes. I know of your ‘friends’, and I know where I will find them. They say the people are restless. Today the people will see exactly what becomes of those who shelter such vipers in our midst.”

Stepping back, he nodded to the guards. “Have him up.” From the corridor outside, booted feet were approaching, more guards filing into the corridor outside. Lingering on the threshold, von Kemperbad looked back over his left shoulder at the Sparrowhawk.

“The elf witch will burn, and you and your friends will hang.” He glanced down at his hand. “I would have liked to have you questioned further... but the people must see that justice is being done.” He paused, his pale eyes flicking back to Raffy. “Sigmar’s justice.”

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Pieter could not help it... He let out a hearty, almost hysterical laugh. He laughed and laughed uncontrollably until his ribs hurt.

"Oh gods, I can't believe such a halfwit used to be a witch hunter. So you still think there are only two sides in this whole thing? Ha, Sigmarites... I'm not surprised we were always a few steps ahead of your Hounds."

[LCP]

Pieter, Raffy, Lothar & Illiiya

Von Kemperbad's head snapped round - Raffy saw him scowl as the guards hurried towards Pieter's cell, keys rattling in the lock before the door was thrown open.

Others were going for Illiiya and Lothar - Raffy tried to suppress the pain in his hand as two took him by the arms, hefting him upright and un-shackling his feet so that he could walk. Pulled out into the hallway with the others, he saw Illiiya and Lothar, staring mutely - and Pieter, dragged from his cell and dumped unceremoniously on the ground before the imperious figure of the Lector.

"You find something amusing?" asked the priest, an icy chill to his voice.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

"Oh, not particularly," Pieter smiled, still shaken by chuckles. "Losing what little faith I have left in your Church just before I get executed is probably not good news for my soul. But before you have me hanged, I'll give you a word of advice that you'll probably dismiss until it's too late... Lady Samtzunge is actually the lesser of two evils. You want to stop the sorcerer, the one who actually sends the rats? You'll find him in the tunnels... if you can find an access that hasn't been collapsed."

[LCP]

Pieter, Raffy, Lothar & Illiiya

Something in what Pieter said had evidently caught the Lector's attention. He glared at the initiate, letting the silence fester - then, finally he spoke.

"Do you think it wise to speak in riddles?" he said, harshly. "Make yourself clear."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter did his best to regain his seriousness. This was important: if he got executed, someone had to stop the sorcerer, even if that someone was a conniving, tyrannical, bigoted old vulture.

"Not long ago, my friends and I were almost eaten alive by a horde of rats while in the tunnels," explained Pieter. "So we know that's where the rats are. I've been deeper in those tunnels than any of your men. Now, you may not believe me, but I found... slave pens. Grimy, emaciated slaves kept in cages." His eyes grew flinty and his voice hardened at the memory. "They say you were once a true man of Sigmar. If you're still so much as a shadow of that man, Herr von Kemperbad, you will send a party of men into those tunnels to free those slaves and stop the sorcerer. And you will do it before tonight."

"As for an access... I might have a lead," he said vaguely.

[LCP]

Pieter, Raffy, Lothar & Illiiya

"Which you will tell me," breathed the Lector, stepping forwards to fix the initiate with his adder-like gaze. In the gaunt priest's eyes, Pieter could see the gleam of the torture-chamber, Jagrun's iron-fanged instruments of interrogation seeming to grin at him through the castle's stone bowels.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter & Co

Pieter held the Lector's gaze.

"You do realize you're trying to threaten a man with nothing to lose, right?" he said coolly. "You don't exactly hold the higher ground, Jowls. If I tell you what I know, the only thing you will give me in return is a slightly less unpleasant death. I'll pass."

A joyless smile touched his lips. "So... I won't tell you. But maybe I can show you. And your men, of course. They're going to need me down there. I don't know much of the tunnels... but I still know them better than anyone you have."

[LCP]

Pieter, Raffy, Lothar & Illiiya

Von Kemperbad held his silence for a long moment, seeming to inspect every inch of Pieter's face for the hint of a lie. At last, he seemed to make up his mind.

"Put him back in his cell," he commanded the guards. "See to it he stays there." He looked round. "The rest of you, load the others into the wagon."
"Shouldn't the Baron -"
"The Baron has been informed," snapped von Kemperbad. "Do as I say."

The guards complied, hurling Pieter back into his cell - the door slammed behind him with a rattle of metal as the key turned in the lock, the others making to haul Raffy, Lothar and Illiiya towards the stairs...

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter, alone :smallfrown:

Only then did Pieter start to grow truly nervous. A few minutes ago, he at least had the small comfort of being in the same boat as the others: even the thought of execution was more bearable when you knew you would not stand alone on the gallows. But now...

This is the last time I see them, he thought gloomily as Raffy, Lothar and Illiiya were taken away.

Alone again. Ever since the beginning, events conspired to make him remain an outsider. Perhaps this somehow served Ranald's purpose...

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Since their defeat and her injury... Illiiya had been silent and somewhat vacant in manner, not moving much or giving the soldiers trouble. She looked and felt defeated. Despite her best efforts to spare them, the only people who had ever cared for her would die alongside her... and Raffy had been mangled in the reckless attempt to save her.

She was quiet... though this was hardly shocking considering the gag they had fitted her with. She did not seem shocked in the least to see the the Lector... and put up no fuss when they hauled her from her cell. In fact, short of looking sadly to Pieter as they were dragged off, she did not react at all. She seemed resigned to die just as before.

At least she would not be alone...

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus walks out the door hoping that today would be less chaotic. He takes a roundabout route to the Guardhouse, trying to assess the damage to the town. Once at the guardhouse he will stand on the opposite side of the square and watch the activity.

[LCP]

Ithelus

One would need to seek a higher place to see the full extent of the damage the fires had done, but, making his way to Judge's Square, Ithelus got a good enough idea: the periodic trails of smoke showed up sharply against the pale dawn, stretching from the Altdorf road to the south to somewhere around the Walden road to the north.

Reaching Judge's Square, he tried his best to look inconspicuous, standing in an out-of-the-way corner the other side of the square from the Guard House - the place was surprisingly empty, the occasional guard hurrying across towards the west side while sparse trickles of citizen flowed rapidly across the open space. There was a distinct directionality to their wanderings - they seemed to be headed towards the Tempelplatz, drawn like iron to a lodestone...

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus watches the guardhouse for a while, was that where Illiiya was being held? His interest turned to the citizens, and with a shrug he followed their path. After all, Lothar said he had things under control, Illiiya was in no great danger.

[LCP]

Raffy, Lothar & Illiiya

Up the cramped, winding stairwell, past the age-beaten door that had witnessed their capture: Raffy, Lothar and Illiiya were herded out into the courtyard like animals, a caged iron wagon waiting with its barred door yawning unpleasantly open. The chill of the previous night had settled: white streaks of snow mottled the flagstones and iced the high roof of the keep, the occasional snowflake still zig-zagging its lazy way down from the cloudy sky.

One of the guards escorting them giving Raffy a helpful jab in the small of the back to remind him to keep moving, the three were loaded into their wheeled cage: emerging from the door behind them, the Lector cast the prisoners a last disdainful glance before crossing the courtyard ahead of them, swinging himself up into the saddle of a powerful black horse. The gatehouse portcullis rattled up, two liveried guards standing to attention to either side of the open gateway – spurring his horse on, the high priest rode away towards the town below. The last they saw of him was his black robes billowing behind him as the horse rose to a canter, the poor beasts enlisted to pull their own less glamorous transport beginning to plod steadily forwards in his wake.

As they rolled out past the curtain wall, the chilly vista of the town spread out below them – Lothar’s eyes widened as he took in the sight. Framed against the pale dawn light, dirty trailers of smoke twisted up across the eastern side of the town, staining the sky as they rose to mingle with the cold, grey clouds. The fires had evidently done significant damage before they could be brought under control – but even beneath such chaos, the pattern was evident. The blackened pock-marks on the face of the city traced the path of the murders, extended north as far as the Walden Road. If what the Lector said was true, the rate of the killings had more than doubled – the circle was closing, faster than ever before.

The carriage rattled and bumped down the pathway from the castle mound, its carthorses picking up the pace to a weary trot as their route levelled out: on their right, the solid wall of the Morrgarten marked their path, the snow-dusted tombs on the other side seeming to Lothar an ominous signifier of things to come. Ahead of them, the Cathedral reared, an ornate stone colossus – staring up at it, Illiiya realised it was almost complete, only the uppermost reaches of the belltower still shrouded in scaffolding. For now, however, the wooden walkways were empty of their workers.

Jolting over a gutter in the cobbled street, their wagon rounded the corner into Tempeplatz – Raffy found himself staring at the biggest crowd he had ever seen. Burghers and beggars alike rubbed shoulders, in a sea of faces that packed the entire square – some stood on unharnessed carts to get a better view, others peering out of windows or perching on rooftops where the space to stand ran out. Frosty clouds of their breath hung in the air, all eyes forwards as a strange, tense quiet hung in the air: Delberz was watching.

Beneath the shadow of their temple, the Hounds were gathered: a long rank of militiamen in the best of their scavenged arms and armour stood as a breakwater against the crowd, holding them back from the wooden platform that was rising in front of the Cathedral steps. Its purpose was abundantly clear: in its centre, a thick wooden stake had been secured, two Hounds pitching bundles of firewood onto the pyre beneath as a black-robed priest of Sigmar looked solemnly on.

A familiar figure approached – Halbermann grinned up at them, traces of soot still lingering on his yellow-bearded face. For once, though, the man’s heart didn’t seem to be in it – there was a flicker of something behind the militia sergeant’s twinkling eyes, uncertainty or fear robbing his expression of its usual gleeful malice.

“’Allo again,” he said. “So, helpful Mr Fischer was in league with his heretic mates all along, eh?” He smirked, still unable to resist the temptation to goad Lothar. “Shocked I am. See this,” he said, pointing at himself as he assumed a exaggeratedly deadpan air. “This is my surprised face.”

“Sergeant!” called a sharp, commanding voice – Lothar felt the hackles on the back of his neck as he recognised it as the Lector’s. Ulric knew he had had enough of that man for one day.

Handing his horse’s reins to a pair of Hounds, von Kemperbad was striding across the cobbles towards Halbermann.
“Where is young von Brucker? He is supposed to be here.”
“Dunno, sir,” said Halbermann, caught a little off-guard. “I mean – I don’t know, your Eminence. We sent word, he said he’d be here. The Guard are watchin’ the bridges, like you asked – keepin’ the Fields people from crossin’.”
“How many does he need to guard a handful of bridges?” snapped the Lector, irritably. “I want the others here. Here.”
“He seemed in a bit of a mood, your Eminence,” said Halbermann, helpfully. Von Kemperbad only shook his head, looking out at the watching crowd with a calculating gaze. Scurrying away from the side of the prison-wagon, Halbermann sidled up alongside him: Illiiya’s keen ears could still make out the man’s words as he lowered his voice, attempting to talk in secret.

“If you don’t mind, your honour, there’s still that... thing... I were tellin’ you ‘bout. The feller with the knife, last night.”
“The one who attacked you?” said von Kemperbad, coldly. “I agree. Most alarming. I think you’d best find him as quickly as possible, don’t you?”
His sergeant suitably chastised, the Lector looked back at the crowd.
“Push this rabble back, sergeant. There should be a proper space around the platform.”
“Aye, your Eminence.” Snapping off a faltering salute, Halbermann scuttled away, roaring orders at his subordinates as he gladly fled von Kemperbad’s presence – shooting a last poisonous glance at the prisoners in the wagon, the Lector turned away, stalking off towards the wooden stage.

Around them, the line of Hounds began to push forwards, clearing the citizenry from the foot of the steps – the tense quiet of the crowd dissolved, people clamouring and shouting in the sudden crush. For a moment, it seemed like they might push back – then, their struggling ceased, all eyes turning to the tall figure of the Lector as he ascended the steps onto the stage.

Three Hounds approached the wagon: turning a key in the lock, rough hands grabbed Illiiya, pulling her out into the square before the metal door slammed behind her. Two of them began to drag her away, one remaining behind with a crossbow in his hands as he kept a wary eye on the other two prisoners.

“People of Delberz!” cried the Lector, his voice cutting through the icy air. “Our city has stood upon the brink of the precipice for too long. In Sigmar’s name, it is my sacred duty to usher it back into the light.”

The crowd fell silent as the defeated figure of Illiiya was marched up the steps behind him.

“The serpent of Chaos has flourished in our midst,” von Kemperbad declaimed. “It has suckled at the teat of heresy, and grown fat. Well, no more.”

Stretching out one arm, he gestured to Illiiya.

“This inhuman creature is the source of your suffering. She hid her sorcerous powers from Aldric Jagrun of the Templars, and when he was about to exact Sigmar’s justice upon his challenger, she used her witchcraft to intervene.”
A low murmur rose from the crowd.
“Last night,” continued von Kemperbad, raising his voice to cut through the noise, “she was seen to confer with a rat, the very same night that the sorcerous killings have doubled. She is the ally of the so-called ‘Sparrowhawk’, Jagrun’s murderer –“ the murmuring redoubled “-whom we have also captured.”

An amazed silence settled on the crowd – the gathered Hounds cleared a path to the wagon, so that Raffy and Lothar could be seen.

“This is the youth who has set out to make himself your 'hero', Delberz,” continued von Kemperbad, scathingly. “The enormity of his crimes is matched only by those of the heretic and deceiver who has used him. Her name is known to us, and I say it now: Maria Samtzunge.”

“She has used these pawns – her sorceress and her assassin - to slaughter your kin. Under her influence, this lunatic has murdered a Templar of Sigmar, and the Baroness herself. She wishes nothing more than the destruction of this Church, and all we have worked for, for she has sold herself body and soul to the Ruinous Powers.”

The Lector straightened his back, letting his words sink in.

“She has failed. Despite the crimes of her minions, the Cathedral will be completed. Hear me now when I say that no new tithes will be levied, no taxes will be raised. A benefactor has come to the Church in her hour of need. All he asks in return is to be allowed to provide a bell with his own dedication for the tower – a request to which I have happily acquiesced.”

Von Kemperbad paused, swallowing – for just one moment in his rhetorical barrage, he seemed slightly uncertain of himself.

“As such, the tower will be completed today. The Mason’s Guild will be paid in full for their work so far, and for as many men as they need to finish the task. The blasphemer will witness that the will of Sigmar’s people cannot be undone by one such as she.” The priest’s tone rose, taking on a fire-and-brimstone sting that could not help but cow the peasant in Raffy and Lothar’s hearts. “Even now, the agents of Sigmar’s will seek her out, to bring to her the inevitable judgement that befalls her cat’s-paws today. She is excommunicated from Sigmar’s Church, to wander in shadows until the darkness that has taken root in her soul may be purged by fire.”

Moving forwards, the men holding Illiiya hauled her up onto the pyre, unshackling her wrists to bind her arms behind the stake. A kettle-drum began to roll, a Hound passing a flaming torch to the Lector – the crowd began to murmur, a rising swell of voices breaking the hushed silence that had reigned.

“We commit her servant now to the flames, as a promise of what is to come. Bear witness and heed this lesson – for so perish all those who welcome the taint of Chaos.”

Turning to face Illiiya, a nod saw the gag removed from her mouth. A single drifting snowflake melting as it drifted into the path of the burning brand in his hand, the Lector took a single step forwards, the old man’s hard eyes meeting hers. He lowered his voice, addressing her directly.

“The time has come, witch,” he said, over the rapid rattle of the drum. “Confess your sins, and perhaps your suffering can be lessened.”

[hr]

Ithelus

Heading for the Tempelplatz, Ithelus picked his way through thickening currents of humans, headed in the same direction – reaching the edge of the square, he found himself at the back of a vast crowd, bigger still than the one that had witnessed Jagrun’s death. Beggar and burgher alike the packed the plaza, swarming like ants before the soaring face of the Cathedral – it was almost complete, only the very uppermost stones not yet raised into place atop the belltower.

By the Cathedral steps, the Hounds held back the crowd – behind them, a wooden platform had been raised, the ominous outline of a pyre dominating its centre. The odd flake of snow still drifted down from the sky, the crowd’s breath misting in the frosty air – they held an odd, tense silence, waiting quietly in their uncounted masses before the wary militia.

With a rattle of wheels, a caged iron wagon rolled into the square from a side-street at the Cathedral side – Ithelus felt his heart skip a beat as he caught sight of a familiar face through the bars, before the grim carriage moved out of clear sight behind the line of the Hounds. Pushing his way further forward through the crowd, he found his way blocked by the sheer number of people, the citizens of Delberz packed together like sardines in a can. Some had mounted unharnessed carts to get a better look, others sitting on window-ledges or rooftops around the square – every spare space was packed.

Mounting the wooden platform, a gaunt, black-robed figure looked out at the crowd – the Lector’s bony frame was instantly recognisable. Surveying the crowd like a lord surveying his demesne, he raised his voice in oratorical proclamation, rich, deep syllables cutting through the chill Middenland morning.

“People of Delberz! Our city has stood upon the brink of the precipice for too long. In Sigmar’s name, it is my sacred duty to usher it back into the light.”

The crowd fell silent as two Hounds frogmarched a figure up the steps behind him – Ithelus felt his heart sink into his boots as he recognised Illiiya, beaten and bedraggled, as their hostage. Her head was held low, her clothes stained with blood.

“The serpent of Chaos has flourished in our midst,” von Kemperbad declaimed. “It has suckled at the teat of heresy, and grown fat. Well, no more.”

Stretching out one arm, he gestured to Illiiya.

“This inhuman creature is the source of your suffering. She hid her sorcerous powers from Aldric Jagrun of the Templars, and when he was about to exact Sigmar’s justice upon his challenger, she used her witchcraft to intervene.”
A low murmur rose from the crowd.
“Last night,” continued von Kemperbad, raising his voice to cut through the noise, “she was seen to confer with a rat, the very same night that the sorcerous killings have doubled. She is the ally of the so-called ‘Sparrowhawk’, Jagrun’s murderer –“ the murmuring redoubled “-whom we have also captured.”

An amazed silence settled on the crowd – ahead, the Hounds made way, letting the Lector’s audience see clearly to the iron-barred wagon Ithelus had seen arrive. Within, Raffy and Lothar could be seen, caged like convicts.

“This is the youth who has set out to make himself your 'hero', Delberz,” continued von Kemperbad, scathingly. “The enormity of his crimes is matched only by those of the heretic and deceiver who has used him. Her name is known to us, and I say it now: Maria Samtzunge.”

“She has used these pawns – her sorceress and her assassin - to slaughter your kin. Under her influence, this lunatic has murdered a Templar of Sigmar, and the Baroness herself. She wishes nothing more than the destruction of this Church, and all we have worked for, for she has sold herself body and soul to the Ruinous Powers.”

The Lector straightened his back, letting his words sink in.

“She has failed. Despite the crimes of her minions, the Cathedral will be completed. Hear me now when I say that no new tithes will be levied, no taxes will be raised. A benefactor has come to the Church in her hour of need. All he asks in return is to be allowed to provide a bell with his own dedication for the tower – a request to which I have happily acquiesced.”

Von Kemperbad paused, swallowing – for one moment in his rhetorical barrage, he seemed uncertain.

“As such, the tower will be completed today. The Mason’s Guild will be paid in full for their work so far, and for as many men as they need to finish the task. The blasphemer will witness that the will of Sigmar’s people cannot be undone by one such as she.” The priest’s tone rose, taking on a fire-and-brimstone sting. “Even now, the agents of Sigmar’s will seek her out, to bring to her the inevitable judgement that befalls her cat’s-paws today. She is excommunicated from Sigmar’s Church, to wander in shadows until the darkness that has taken root in her soul may be purged by fire.”

Moving forwards, the men holding Illiiya hauled her up onto the pyre, unshackling her wrists to bind her arms behind the stake. A kettle-drum began to roll, a Hound passing a flaming torch to the Lector – the crowd began to murmur, a rising swell of voices breaking the hushed silence that had reigned.

“We commit her servant now to the flames, as a promise of what is to come. Bear witness and heed this lesson – for so perish all those who welcome the taint of Chaos.”

Ithelus watched with widening eyes as von Kemperbad turned to Illiiya, stepping closer with the burning brand in his hand. As he watched, his mind racing, he heard voices on his left, a group of young men shoving their way through the crowd.

“Make way, make way, there!” hissed one of them – glancing through the thicket of human faces, Ithelus recognised them as the men from the Society, Klaus and Karl. “Make a lane! You, off that handcart!”

The two of them – no, more, they’d brought friends – were climbing up onto the cart in question to raise themselves above the crowd, standing straight with a piece of paper in their hands. The people’s eyes were still forwards, fixed on the scene upon the platform – the Lector seemed to be saying something to Illiiya, his voice too low to be heard from Ithelus’ position...

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus almost collapsed. What was? Why? His heart began to pound against his ribcage. Why was Illiiya up there? What about Lothar?

Lothar said he had it covered. Lothar said....

He lied.

The skull was back, flashing in front of his face. It was grinning at him, mocking him.

“She has failed. Despite the crimes of her minions, the Cathedral will be completed. Hear me now when I say that no new tithes will be levied, no taxes will be raised. A benefactor has come to the Church in her hour of need. All he asks in return is to be allowed to provide a bell with his own dedication for the tower – a request to which I have happily acquiesced.”

Ithelus's eyes widened in shock, his stomach turning as if he had been dealt a physical blow. That poem he had read yesterday, and the rats in the sewers. He stood frozen in indecision. If he moved now he might be able to stop the bell, but if he tried to save Illiiya and got caught then the whole town would be lost.

Seeing Klaus and his friends he barged his way over. 'Klaus! Klaus! Listen, I'm a friend of Pieter and Raffy's.' He grabs the man's arm, 'Listen to me! You must stop the bell from being put up. It's up to you. If the bell tower is finished we all die!' Ithelus tries to shake the wild look in his eye, willing the man to believe him.

[LCP]

Ithelus

Klaus looked round, surprised by the elf's sudden appearance - his eyes narrowed as he saw Ithelus' face.

"I know you," he said, warily. "You're that elf from the Tongs. The one who was so full of the Emperor's praises."

He pulled back as Ithelus grabbed for his arm. He was carrying a piece of paper in his hand - Ithelus couldn't see what was on it, but it looked like a printed handbill.

"If the bell tower is finished..." he said, incredulously. "What?"

The other face he recognised - Karl - moved forwards between them.

"We don't have time for this. Klaus, it has to be now, or that woman is going to burn..."

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus stops dead. Save her? Could they save her? could that piece of paper save her? He wasn't taking chances. Abandoning his attempt at reason he subtly drew his weapons and began to move through the crowd to the cordon of Hounds.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


As the wagon hauled them through the crowd to the plaza, Raffy kept a serene expression on his face. Once the wagon was surrounded by the people of Delberz, he leapt to his feet. Grasping a bar with his good hand, he shoved his wrecked stump out between the bars and held it up in the air like a sign of victory.

"For ULRIC!" he yelled. "For ULRIC! For ULRIC!"

He keeps up this chant until the Lector prepares to speak, when he takes on a respectful silence... until the Lector introduces him by his moniker. Then he raises the stump again and yells in his loudest bellow,

"GIVE ME ANOTHER WITCH HUNTER! ONE MORE TO TAKE WITH ME!"

He tries to keep the crowd's attention, until Illiiya is brought out of the cart. When her gag is removed he yells once more - this time in a softer, more personal tone, not the rabble-rousing roar of before.

"Lay 'em low, Illiiya! Give 'em what they came to see!"

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar shrugged at Halbermann, his face in a wry twist. "Nah. Tried to sock Raffy inna mouth, didn't I? But the git got me involved, and that's how it goes." There was no distaste in the soldier's mouth- weariness, yes, but a certain undercurrent of warmth. As if it were good to see someone he knew, even someone on the other side of the line as it were.

"Don't s'pose I could have a smoke, could I? You know, a last request and all that. I'd be much obliged- put in a good word with Morr for you, sort of thing." He smiled faintly beneath his unkempt new beard.

[LCP]

Raffy, Lothar & Illiiya

(Back in time)

Halbermann shook his head.

"Sorry, Fischer. No fraternisin' with prisoners." He banged the side of the cage with the flat of his hand. "You and the boy've got plenty of time, though. We ain't got a gallows ready yet, see. Best make yourself comfortable in there, eh?"

He turned as the Lector called him away, scuttling off towards his master.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya the Witch

Illiiya looked about... seeming defeated and broken down. She was bound. Helpless. She only hoped that Ithelus was far, far from here. The Lector went about his speech, as she gazed warily about... and her eyes settled on the tower.

The lector. Raffy's accusations. The circle. The tower...

"A benefactor has come to the Church in her hour of need."

Her blood ran cold. She had been wrong. So very... very wrong.

Y-you... you have...

The Lector glared at her face to face... his arrogance swollen up in him to consume all his being. His smugness at his seeming victory reminded her of loathing she had not felt in so long. Of hate she had done so much to sever from herself. It surged up in her... her face contorting as she gave a horrible shriek.

.... and bit him. If she were free, she would wrap her fingers around his throat and choke him until he passed. Instead, she moved forward like an angry beast, turning her head to bite the Lector as hard as she could... hoping only to see the arrogant man's blood flow.

I have NO idea what the roll is to "Hannibal Lector" the Lector. She's not even expecting it to do much. But god DAMN is she angry right now.

[LCP]

Tempelplatz

With a cry of alarm, the Lector staggered back, clutching at his face – he glared at Illiiya, blood running freely down his cheek and over his hand. A stunned silence settled on the square, all eyes on the bleeding priest.

Straightening up, von Kemperbad wiped his face on the sleeve of his gown, raising the torch high to the crowd.

“The witch Jaelrae has refused to recant. In Sigmar’s name, it is my sacred duty to purge the forces of Chaos from her – with fire.”

“Stop!” came a shout from the crowd. Looking round, Raffy and Lothar saw a lone figure standing on the back of a handcart, holding a crumpled handbill in one hand.

“That woman is innocent. There is only one villain here, and he stands before you! These are the victims of the Lector and his Hounds!”

On the platform, von Kemperbad lowered the torch, looking round – as the figure stood his ground, Raffy realised it was Klaus. The Society were in the crowd.

“Arndt Stocher and Gustav Muller, lost on the Middenheim road carrying stone for the Cathedral. Agata Heches, beaten and broken for her neighbours’ suspicions. Gabrielle Thenardier, bled to death because she did not know the Reikspiel for ‘bribe’.”

The crowd began to mutter and murmur, unsure of what to make of this sudden interruption. The line of Hounds shifted uncomfortably, waiting on an order as they watched the mass of humanity before them.

Stepping up to the edge of the platform, von Kemperbad glared at the speaker, pointing one bony finger out across the crowd.
“You! Get down from there.”
Klaus remained where he was, continuing to read from the paper in his hand.

“Richter Schneider, Otto Weber, Edgar Lang and Dieter Hoffman, their throats slit while the Church did nothing!”

“Insolent wretch,” snarled von Kemperbad. “Sergeant,” he snapped, the tone of command clear in his voice. “Arrest him!”

“Johann Biermann!” called Klaus, as Halbermann and a dozen or so of his Hounds began to push their way roughly into the crowd, forging a path towards him. “Berthold Brauer, Eckhart Jung, Elise Vogel, Felix Lang, Heinz Kortig, Rudiger Nussbaum,”

“Out of the way, there!” came the Sergeant’s shout. “Out of the way!”

“Gretchen Weiss, Wolfgang Pfeifer, Siegfried Schreiner, Klara Strauss. Ludmilla Zimmer, Carlott Sudenaller, Marhilde Bechenbauer, Hanna Amsel, Albrecht Kappel, Abtei Nelms!”

“Damn your eyes, out of the way!”

Already packed tight by the corralling line of militiamen before the table, the crowd was not taking kindly to the Sergeant’s trampling intrusion – it twitched and quivered like a live thing, ugly murmurs running through its ranks. The names were hitting home, recognition of the victim’s identities spreading through the assembled citizenry as the list grew – enough people were gathered here that a fair few were bound to recognise each of the dead.

“Beatrix Schulz, Ulrich Metzger, Constance Kuhn, Honoria Altmann. Dietrich Atzwig. Winifred Herzog, Adelle Drauwulf, Jost Drakenhof, Leopold Delfholt, Max Jochutz, Desdemona Niederlitz, Lena Veit, Dieter Riese, Hildemar Meusmann, Frieda Schultz, Keterlyn Kalb. Consumed by sorcery, while von Kemperbad left them to die!”

At these words, shouts broke out in several quarters of the square - Halbermann and his men were still struggling through the crowd, their path becoming more impeded by the press of bodies with each passing moment.

“Thirty-eight men, women and children of Galsburg! Sixty-seven of Schoppendorf, eighty-four of Grimminhagen, one hundred and thirty-four of Wolfenburg, who have died on the Fields while the Cathedral consumes the coin to feed an army!”

“Freya Weisemann – Murdered by Theophilus von Kemperbad for the sin of bearing him a child!”

Silence fell like an anvil once more. The Lector stood at the edge of the platform, his face white with shock and fury as the torch continued to burn in his hand. Crumpling the handbill into a ball, Klaus hurled it at the oncoming Hounds, leaping up onto the corner of the cart to lift himself higher.

“The Lector has lied to you! He has stolen the bread from your mouths, he has stolen the coin from your purses, he has taken your freedom and your liberty from you! Now he means to take another innocent’s life as the scapegoat for his crimes! People of Delberz, will you allow it?”

A scattered chorus of “No!”s volleyed from various corners of the square, growing in strength as those around them realised they were not alone.

“People of Delberz, who will speak for the dead?”

“Enough!” roared von Kemperbad. Turning back to the pyre, he flung down the torch – with a slow, malevolent crackle, the mound of firewood caught light, black smoke rippling back through the stacked timber as the crawling fingers of flame began to spread. Turning back, he flung out one outstretched arm towards Ziemlich.

“Sergeant! Shoot that man!”

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya "Soon to be crispy" Jaelrae

ARROGANT MONSTER! Illiiya shrieked out through bloody lips, All of this is YOUR fault!

She struggled against her bindings furiously. She could not let him do this!

OOC: If she can get a hand free, she can cast. I shall try like HELL!

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar stared at the agitator in horror, the names burning into his mind. Hundreds starving in the field. Hundreds! Shallya's mercy. I knew there was hunger, want- but that is a far cry from starving to death.

He shook himself and stared at the Lector with hate. "Yes, Servant of Sigmar! Shoot the man who tells Delberz of your sins! Silence him as you did Weisemann, as you have Galsburg and Schoppendorf and Grimminhagen, the people of Wolfenburg! To survive the blades of the north, the plagues of the Fly: only to starve so you may erect a blasphemous tower to the God who commands we defend the people of the Empire!"

He spat as best he could at the black-robed Lector. "You are no servant of Sigmar! When the Hammer Lord came to Middenland, you would've told him you had no coin to spare to fight the orc and the boar! You woulda said you had t' spend your coin on stone and gilded cloth!"

"Sigmarites of Delberz! Wolf-brothers of Ulric! Take up the hammer!" he cried.

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Seeing his chance Ithelus's body moved into action. Throwing up his hood he pushes through the crowd, moving alongside the knot of Hounds. His weapons clutched in his hands he pulls up close to the Sargent and flings a throwing knife at the man for the second time today.

[roll0]

[LCP]

Tempelplatz

The crowd hovered on a knife-edge as Halbermann seized a crossbow from a subordinate, raising the stock to his shoulder and sighting on Klaus – there was a sudden blur of spinning metal, and the sergeant staggered to one side with a howl of pain, a knife protruding from the meat of his thigh. Eyes stinging from the stoke, Illiiya recognised Ithelus’ face in the crowd – Halbermann evidently had too, the crossbow swinging up to aim straight at the elf’s head.

“GET BACK!” the sergeant roared, those in the weapon’s path have nowhere to retreat – with a solid thunk, the bow let loose, its bolt whistling through the air towards its target.

Halbermann takes a shot at Ithelus in return, and we go into combat time. He’s at -20 to hit due to the crowd shielding Ith, and if he misses, he’s hit someone else.

[roll0]
[roll1]

Initiative:

[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

Anyone (i.e. Illiiya) wanting to join the fun should roll initiative as and when. The crowd will be treated as a narrative/environmental condition rather than an object with stats.

Ithelus and Halbermann's attacks have taken place in round one: it's now on to round two, and back to Ithelus/anyone and everyone else who can act: the Hounds around him effectively can't move due to people hedging them in, and they don't have missile weapons readied.

And of course, now that we are in combat time, Illiiya will start taking fire damage some time soon as per the regular rules.

The bolt flew straight and true - flying through the air towards Ithelus, it buried itself in the man in front of him. The man looked down with a small, gurgling noise, and fell to his knees.

"In the name of Sigmar," bellowed the Lector, "you are commanded-"

With a united, rising roar, the crowd surged forwards, closing around Halbermann and his men like a breaking wave. The line of Hounds before the platform buckled and flexed, the militia holding back the press with the hafts of their polearms as the weight began to pile on from behind...

[Exeson]

Tempelplatz
Ithelus ducked as the crossbow fired, attempting to slip back into the crowd. Once he was a safe distance away he called out as loud as he could.

'The man is right! Hear me! The elf is innocent! We are sick of being oppressed by the Hounds! Down with the Hounds! Down with the Lector! SAVE THE ELF'

Ithelus then began to push his way to Illiiya, his blood suddenly running ice cold as he realised that the pyre had already been lit.

[BloodyAngel]

Wait... is anyone NOT at the temple then?

... oh right. Poor Pieter.

Ith!

Illiiya looked out desperately at the crowd... at the only person yet who's fate had not been sealed. The last tiny bit of hope she had was about to be shot down in front of her. Everything had been for naught.

Ith, no! NO! She screamed, tugging at her bonds desperately.

She would feel the rope burn later, as she rubbed her wrists bloody trying to pull them free. Or she would not... if the fire had it's say. She was unconcerned with both at the moment. Fortune and loose bindings favored her, and she pulled one wrist free.

You will not harm him!

And with that... she began to channel.

Actions this turn.

1: Channel
2: Oddly... I will cast Sleep on the evil man shooting at my Ith is within reach (doubtful) Drop on him if it seems likely he will drop his weapon into a place that is hard to reach (like if he's on an elevated spot over the crowd or the like, and the weapon will fall into said crowd) or good ol' Magic Dart on him if the first two don't apply.
3: Roast to a golden brown.

1: Channeling Roll: [roll0]
2: Casting Roll: [roll1] or [roll2]

Touch roll (If sleep): [roll3]
Damage roll: (If Magic Dart) [roll4]

If it's drop... he needs to make an Ag test, I think.

3: Roasting Roll [roll5] Not quite done yet.

Phew. Infodump. I hope that complicated string of possible actions isn't TOO confusing. :smallamused:

Edit: Oy. Well the channel made it, so that 5 will become a 6 and make the spell casting a success regardless... but DAMN that is miserable damage. Here's hoping for Drop. *finger's crossed*

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk and the Showdown at Templeplatz Corral


As Klaus begins to give his speech, Raffy boos the Lector and makes a charge at the gate of the jail-wagon, trying to burst it open with sheer strength.

OOC:

I'm not sure if your "PC stuff pre-empts narrative" policy covers stuff like this, but I wanted to start shouldering the door as soon as I heard the speech, which was before Ith made his appearance.

If you'll allow a "before the right" attempt, then here's two rolls (one for before the fight and one for my first turn in initiative). If you won't allow it, then just ignore the second roll, as I didn't have time for two.

[roll0] *
[roll1] vs. 25 *
[roll2] vs. 25 *

*Assuming a -10 penalty to Agi and Str from plague.

[LCP]

Tempelplatz

Whispering voices danced out across the square from Illiiya’s bloody, outstretched hand – the Lector recoiled from their passage, the hellish whispers dancing between drifting snowflakes as they swooped towards the knot of Hounds around Halbermann. The sergeant gave a shout of alarm as unseen hands yanked the crossbow from his grasp, the weapon rising a little way into the air before dropping back onto the cobbles.

Shouting for his men to stand their ground, the sergeant drew a short, single-edged sword from his belt, holding it out to the ring of citizenry surrounding them as the others tried to find room to lower their halberds – the crowd contracted and rippled around them, those who wanted no part in any fighting struggling to get free of the crush. Someone screamed as a halberd-blade found its way into a shouting man’s stomach – as the bleeding peasant was dragged away, a hail of cobblestones and half-bricks descended on the isolated Hounds, two of them crumpling to the ground as the missiles found their mark. The island of militiamen closed in, Halbermann shouting for their attackers to stay back...

Behind the platform, Hounds were rushing up onto the Cathedral steps, forming a ragged, disorganised line of crossbows as their comrades tried to hold back the angry mob. Stepping back from the precipice, the Lector glared at Illiiya and her free hand, his iron faith in his own authority seeming to hold firm even in the face of outright rebellion.

“Sire!” shouted one of the Hounds on the platform, stepping nervously back with a crossbow raised at the elf. “What do we do?”

Illiiya struggled to face them – her other hand still held her to the stake, the pyre flaring up beneath her as she began to choke on the black, belching smoke. Von Kemperbad shook his head.

“She-daemon,” he snarled. He turned to the guards. “Don’t waste your bolts. Let the witch burn.”

Turning on his heel, he hurried towards the steps at the back of the platform, the handful of militiamen around him following after – behind them, the cordon buckled and broke, a flood of commoners rushing through on the left towards. They enveloped the prison-wagon like a tide, the Hounds on guard scurrying back like frightened rabbits – across the width of the square, the militia were falling back, retreating to the steps where their brothers waited with crossbows at the ready. Lothar and Raffy gripped the bars of their prison, shouting at the clamouring crowd that surrounded to them – there was a spark and a shriek of metal as someone with a hammer struck the lock from the door, the Sparrowhawk’s cage hinging open into the mob.

Looking round, Lothar could see the red glow of the pyre growing brighter, the fuel beneath Illiiya’s feet rising to a furious blaze as the elf writhed and choked in a growing pillar of smoke – and behind her, on the Cathedral steps, the Hounds, their numbers swelling as the retreating troop rushed together. They had a lot of crossbows - their discipline might have put a free company to shame, but the ex-soldier could recognise a firing-line as it formed...

OOC: Illiiya takes [roll0] damage from the fire. The damage rating will increment by one every turn. Starting next turn, she starts having to make Ag tests not to catch on fire herself.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Illiiya hacked and coughed... the next spell she had hoped to chant lost as her throat burned. She could not focus... she could not breathe. Through the haze of pain and heat, she looked for Ithelus... but it was already hard to see. It was almost over...

She reached out for Ithelus, or where she imagined he was, before slumping down again. She was too weak to continue. It was too much.

Darkness overcame her.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk


OOC: So I guess the strength checks failed?

Raffy bursts out of the prison cart, certain for a half-moment that it was his own shove that broke him free; but then he nodded his thanks to the person with the hammer. He holds up his bound hands to that charitable soul, hoping their tools will get him unbound as well.

"A gun!" he yells, hoping that one of Klaus' men has one, but assuming he's more likely appealing to unarmed peasants. "Get me a gun! Or some kind of weapon!"

If nothing is forthcoming he'll grab a tool or half-brick of his own and make his way to the nearest Hound to borrow one of their weapons.

((If there is a Hound already within reach then forego the brick and I'll just try to grab his dirk/sword from his belt; please roll for me as needed.))

Half action: let them unbind my hand
Free action: speak
Half action: move toward Hound or, if in range, try to take weapon

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus shouldered his way through the crowd, the blood drained from his face as the fire grew. Cursing he tried to keep the platform between himself and the line of Hounds as he coaxed the crowd forward to rescue Illiiya.

[LCP]

Tempelplatz

The man with the hammer struck off Raffy and Lothar’s bonds – no-one was volunteering to hand the injured boy a weapon, however, keeping them for themselves if they had them at all. Fighting to keep his footing against the current of bodies, Raffy caught sight of the halberds of the sergeant’s men over the sea of heads – turning back, he saw Lothar striking out for the pyre platform, quickly hurrying after the ex-soldier as he forged a path through the mob...

The Hounds on the steps had assumed some semblance of a disciplined line, the surging crowd backing up before them as the ones in front presented a thicket of halberd-points to the oncoming citizenry. Those behind were still shouting to the people to get back, holding the aim of their crossbows – cutting sideways behind the cover of those in front, Lothar caught a glimpse of von Kemperbad retreating inside the Cathedral before reaching the side of the platform, pulling himself up with apeish energy onto the Lector’s stage.

On his left, Ithelus had done the same, climbing up over the front face of the platform – two Hounds were left up with them, standing back to either side of Illiiya’s pyre. One of them shouted for Lothar to step back, raising his crossbow – his resolve faltered as the stage swayed under the pressure of the wave of people breaking around it, the two militiamen’s narrowing avenue of escape clearly looming large in their minds. Glancing at each other, they lowered their weapons, abandoning the witch to her ‘rescuers’ as they ran for the safety of the Cathedral line.

Illiiya was slumped motionlessly forwards, an indistinct figure amidst the billows of choking, black smoke as the hungry flames crackled and danced around her – the wash of heat from the pyre was almost painful to approach. You could say what you liked about the Hounds, but they knew how to start a fire...

OOC: Map!

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/TempelplatzShowdown-2.png

The pyre is pretty big, and by now burning fiercely: it is no easy matter to cut Illiiya free. To directly rush to the stake and get her free will inflict a Damage 3 hit (i.e. 1d10+3 wounds), ignoring armour on whoever does it: as a house rule to represent you moving as quickly as possible and being in control of your movements rather than falling onto the fire, the damage can be halved by a successful Ag test.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy the Sparrowhawk

Raffy scrambles up onto the platform and runs to the pyre. He keeps it between himself and the numerous Hounds at the Cathedral (so, he is near Ithelus).

Feeling the cracking heat and ruing his unarmed state, he finds a single solution to both problems: swiftly, he sets about ripping logs off the pure and scattering them about the plaform, collapsing the flames and clearing them away from Illiiya. As a bonus, any burning brands small enough to be hurled he throws away altogether, and makes sure they soar in the direction of the Hounds.

((So, instead of entering the inferno to get Illiiya, I start to rip the logs out of the fire to save her.))

[goblinpaladin]

On the Tempelplatz

Lothar scrambled through the fire, shielding his face with one hand as his ally rummaged through the burning timber. The heat battered the soldier's face, bringing back unpleasant memories of guns firing in disciplined patterns, the explosions marring bestial faces, misfiring powder scoring black lines across his cheeks...

There- Illiiya, her clothes aflame, her slender features crumpled in the smoke. He reached for her...

Agility: [roll0] vs 41: one degree of success!

[LCP]

Tempelplatz

Rushing up to the edge of the pyre, Raffy began to kick the blazing timbers away, gritting his teeth against the scorching heat as he did so – Lothar pushed past him, leaping up through the flames directly towards the roasting elf. The soldier raised his arms to shield his face from the heat, throwing his weight against the stake itself – in a splintering cloud of embers, the wooden pillar lurched sideways, Illiiya’s charred bonds slithering loose.

Skin black with soot, feet and calves horribly blistered, Illiiya crumpled to the boards of the platform, as still as the grave – face contorted in pain, Lothar stumbled off the pyre, beating at the sparks that had settled in his clothes. Behind them, the crowd bellowed and pushed against the Hounds, only the inertia of those in front fighting to avoid being impaled on the wall of waiting halberds holding them back. Over the din, they heard a rough voice shout:

“TAKE AIM!”

[Exeson]

Tempelplatz
With a curse Ithelus stows his sickle and grabs Illiiya, attempting to drag her into cover whilst shouting at Lothar and Raffy to do the same.

[LCP]

Tempelplatz

Seizing up Illiiya, Ithelus began to drag her towards the back of the platform - freed from the choking smoke of the fire, her lungs were beginning to stagger back into action, her body wracked with convulsive coughs. Ahead of them, the line of Hounds took aim - and let fly.

Either the smoke of the pyre had kept them from becoming too prominent a target, or the militiamen were more concerned with the rioters in front of them than the rescue mission on the stage - either way, the volley of crossbow bolts scythed into the mob rather than Ithelus and his friends, screams of pain and fear rising up over the angry baying of the crowd as the front rank of rioters went down like dominoes. In some places, the people pushed back harder, more falling with sudden squeals of pain as they were squashed against the waiting wall of metal - in others, the crowd recoiled, corpses littering the cobbles where they had stood. Halbermann and his lackeys had vanished into the sea of humanity behind them, evidently fighting for their lives.

On the Cathedral steps, the Hounds were reloading. Somewhere towards the back of the great melee, Raffy heard voices shouting: Klaus and his friends.

"Back! Get back!" The word was spreading through the crowd, borne on a dozen shouting voices. "To the Lower Town! To Helstrum's Ward!"

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus bare reacted to the crossbow bolts, more concerned with checking that Illiiya was still alive. He then picked her up, for once thankful of her small size. 'Come on, we have to get out of here' he shouts to Lothar and Raffy.

He then pushed through the crowd, hoping that the two follow, heading moving with the crowd for a while, ducking into a side street once the crowd begins to disperse..

[goblinpaladin]

"Bloody- yeah, good idea," Lothar shouted back, following the elves. "Helstrum's Ward, sounds like."

[Another_Poet]

Raffy, Lothar, Ithelus, Remains of Illiiya


As Lothar shouts for them to run, Raffy's instincts fail him. Peering through the embers and smoke, a wall of crossbows and halberds beckons to him... Route them, and you carry the day

You could run to the side and get around their flank. See what's going on in the cathedral, maybe drop the scaffold on them...

He sighs. Maybe it's a new fear from his horrific injury, or maybe it's his promise to Maria. But he does not push chance any further. Instead, he readies to flee the square.

He reaches again for a log, this time grasping ths biggest, hottest flaming brand available. Lifting it over his head for all to seem, he bellows out a shout over the crowd:

"Free Delberz!"

And with the flaming beam as his weapon, clearly marking him on the field, he runs into the crowd and toward the revolutionaries struggling to disengage and make their way to the Ward.

[LCP]

Tempelplatz Group

As he struck his pose, a crossbow bolt hummed over Raffy’s head – dropping hurriedly down from the platform, he followed the others, the crowd milling around him as the Hounds continued to shout and struggle with those pressing against them.

Behind the scrum on the Cathedral steps, great currents of people were flowing away – into the side-streets, back across the broad roads, the temples of the other gods standing like islands in the stream. Still carrying Illiiya, Ithelus fell behind Lothar, the soldier pushing a path through the human tide as Raffy hurried up to join them. The knot of rioters around Halbermann and his men had dissolved, no sign of the frantic struggle still surviving - a little way from where it had been, however, a shouting, flailing figure was being carried above the crowd, Halbermann's blood-streaked face just visible as a multitude of hands dragged him away...

From the eastern side of the square, more shouting was beginning to rise, guards or more Hounds arriving at the scene – it was most definitely time to leave. Following the current of the crowd, the four of them fled west – people were funnelling into New Street, fanning out down a dozen different side-streets. Some were standing on crates and wagons, trying to direct the flow – Raffy recognised a face or two from his time at the Society’s meeting. A large proportion of the running citizenry followed their directions, while others turned and fled in the other direction, trying to distance themselves from the chaos that was surely waiting to erupt. Words rose through the air, mingling with the tumbling snowflakes that still drifted down – angry words, the word of what had happened spreading faster than a flash from house to house as those who had stayed in that morning were roused from their hiding-holes.

A street or so away from the square with the well, they stumbled around a corner to find the street ahead packed with moving bodies – faces looked out from every window, a swarm of the urban poor clambering like ants over the object that filled the centre of the street. It was a barricade, already dauntingly high – growing out from the walls to either side, its jaws were already closing to block off the Ward. By the sound of things, it wasn’t the only one: the Society had been ready.

Perched on a vantage-point atop one side of the barricade, a familiar face looked down at them – it was Karl.

“Rafale!” he shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Get inside!”

He pointed to the other side, a considerable current of people still funnelling through the narrow gap currently left in the barricade’s centre...

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar didn't miss a beat, the soldier directing the others to keep close as he pressed through the swarming mass of fleeing proletariat and through the barricade. Once safely through, he turned to check on Illiiya and Ithelus...

[LCP]

Lothar, Raffy, Ithelus & Illiiya

Hurrying through the gap, the group pulled back to one side as a trio of men carrying a heavy wooden table shouldered through the crowd, laying it side-on across the gap. More pieces of detritus were being hauled into place, locking it into place as the barricade began to grow over it – leaping down from the top in a series of hopping steps, Karl descended to their level.

“Gods, man,” he said, looking disbelievingly at Raffy. “What was it Klaus said? Don’t get caught?”

Ithelus and Lothar were not paying attention – setting Illiiya down, they took her burned and blistered feet off the ground, Lothar looking around for something to let them rest upon. The elf’s feet and calves were savagely burnt, her dress in little more than charred tatters below the level of her knees – her breathing was still coming in a shallow, strained wheeze, her skin and clothing practically dyed black with the soot the choking smoke had left behind.

“Shallya’s...” began Karl, trailing off. He glanced at Raffy’s hand, his eyes widening a little further. “You need a doctor,” he said, stepping back.

Some helpful soul engaged in the building of the barricade handed Lothar a flask of water – looking at Ithelus, the soldier shrugged, and poured it over the charred skin of Illiiya’s feet.

With a shriek of pain at the sudden touch of the water, the elf spasmed back into consciousness...

OOC: Illiiya is now fully conscious – but the burns to her feet & calves are exceptionally painful, and make it difficult for her to stand.

[hr]

Pieter

Squatting in his windowless cell, Pieter was beginning to lose track of whether hours or days had passed when he heard the rattle of a key in the lock – looking up as the cell door hinged open, he saw two guards glowering down at him.

“You’re wanted at the Cathedral, mister,” said one of them, pronouncing the last word with the same inflection as ‘scum’. “Get up.”

[-Sentinel-]

OOC: Wow, I didn't expect to be back in the game so soon. :smallsmile:


Pieter

Pieter snapped out of his dark thoughts and got up. His muscles ached, but it would feel good to walk again.

[LCP]

Pieter

The guards were taking no chances – unshackling his ankles, they kept his hands manacled behind his back, prodding him out of the cell and up the dark, dank staircase that he was by now all too familiar with.

Outside, last night’s snow had settled – the odd flake still drifted down from the sky, joining the streaks of white that lingered between the flagstones. The guards seemed busy, a large number of them moving around the keep with a purposeful air – two old horses were waiting by the gate, Pieter’s escorts heading straight for them.

Swinging himself up into the saddle, the first of the guards looked down at the second – unshackling Pieter’s wrists to let him hold them in front of him, they locked the manacles back into place before lifting him up behind the rider. The second mounted up alongside them, giving Pieter a long, slow stare as the portcullis was winched up. That was odd – it wasn’t usually shut during the day.

“No tricks, mister,” said the guard alongside Pieter, giving the captive a flat, menacing stare. “Or it’ll be the worse for you.”

OOC: The guards are going to transport you to Tempelplatz. Will you try to escape at any point along the way, or can I cut straight there?

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Pieter shivered, wishing he still had his brown robes.

"Worse for me? I sure wouldn't want that."

The situation was dramatic, but it could still be salvaged... if he cooperated.


OOC: I'm not really in any state to attempt something, am I?

[LCP]

Pieter

Digging his heels into the horse’s flanks, the first guard began to walk their horse forwards – the second fell in behind them, keeping a close watch on Pieter. Rising to a brisk trot, they turned out of the courtyard and through the gatehouse, Delberz laid out below them like a modelmaker’s masterpiece in the pale, wintry morning.

On the back of the jolting horse, Pieter stared out at the scene he saw – thin streamers of smoke twisted lazily skywards from a dozen places in the west town, black ribbons mingling with the sullen clouds as they rose from the gutted shells of a dozen houses. The streets around the castle mound were practically deserted, the guards descending swiftly to the level of the ground and making quick time towards Tempelplatz and the Cathedral.

The sight of Tempelplatz itself was more shocking still – before the Cathedral steps, a sturdy wooden stage had been erected, the wrecked remains of what looked like a pyre still smouldering at its centre. While empty of its usual traffic, the square was thronged with Hounds, the odd uncomfortable-looking huddle of guards standing off to the side – all the armed men in the world, however, could not hide the bodies that were being loaded onto a wagon in the centre of the square. There were at least a score – some wore the white ribbon, although the majority seemed to be civilians. All were streaked with blood and dirt, evidently the victims of violent deaths: something dramatic had happened here.

The Hounds themselves had the look of a regiment mustering for battle – surprisingly enough, however, there was no sign of Halbermann. Pieter’s escorts from the Castle guards were evidently looking around for him when a man approached them.

“This the Sparrowhawk’s mate?” he asked. The guards frowned down at him.
“Where’s Halbermann?” asked one of them.
“Sarge’s indisposed,” replied the Hound, quickly. “Where’re your lads, that’s more the question. We’ve got a revolt on our hands, here.”
The guard only grunted in reply. Dismounting from his own horse, the other swung Pieter down like an item of cargo, dumping him on the cobbles in front of the Hound.
“This is the one you wanted. You watch where you take him, mind.” He looked cynically around the square. “You clowns’ve already lost the Baroness’ murderer, the Baron won’t look kindly on you losin’ the last of his housebreakers.”
“You lot just get your arses in gear, or we’ll all be in the pan,” said the Hound. “City Guard’re tied up at the bridges, Captain’s nowhere to be found, and them rioters are holin’ up along New Street. You got them fancy uniforms for a reason, right?”

Practically snarling, the Castle Guards chucked the militiaman the keys to Pieter’s restraints, turning and leading their horses away. Grasping Pieter firmly by the shoulder, the Hound turned him and led him towards the Cathedral steps: overhead, the Initiate could see masons clambering up into the scaffolding that surrounded the last unfinished heights of the belltower. Evidently the Church had found another source of funds: there seemed to be a not inconsiderable number of Hounds making sure the stoneworkers stuck to their task, the great edifice clearly on the brink of completion.

“Now,” said the Hound in his ear. “I been told, you know somethin’ bout these mysterious tunnels. That right?”

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Oh gods, thought Pieter with a mournful look at the bodies. So the revolution has really begun.

Part of him was sad to miss it... but his wiser, more pragmatic side told him that stopping the sorcerer should be (and should always have been) his priority.



“You clowns’ve already lost the Baroness’ murderer, the Baron won’t look kindly on you losin’ the last of his housebreakers.”

Pieter blinked... Had Rafale somehow escaped? And what of the others? He looked hard at the pyre, trying to see if Illiiya's charred bones were distinguishable...


Without turning, he answered the Hound: "Yes, sir. I've been deep in the tunnels. And I know a way in." I think.

[LCP]

Pieter

The central stake of the pyre had been knocked over, its fuel scattered around the edges - if it had claimed a victim, either they had been rendered to ash, or the body had been taken away.


Without turning, he answered the Hound: "Yes, sir. I've been deep in the tunnels. And I know a way in."

"That's what I heard," nodded the Hound. Stopping behind a squad of militiamen who were equipping themselves with halberds from a barrel of polearms, he looked Pieter in the eye. "'Course, you understand, sensible feller like you, that we can't exactly trust you, aye?"

He looked Pieter up and down with a calculating expression.

"So, 'fore we go any further, you're goin' to tell me your name, and what you were doing trying to break into the Castle. 'Sides from trying to get yourself killed, of course."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"I Have Many Names," said Pieter dramatically. Always wanted to say that. "My friends know me as Franz."

At this point he had no reason whatsoever to lie. It was merely habit.

"The castle thing was pretty stupid, I agree. We were trying to free Illiiya, the Elf girl. She's innocent." Part of him (maybe hope, maybe denial) refused to use the past tense. "I have reasons to believe that the actual sorcerer lives in the tunnels... and that we have until tonight to stop him."

[LCP]

Pieter

The Hound raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Well, we ain't friends, but I'll call you Franz anyway, eh? 's shorter than 'prisoner'." He looked long and hard at Pieter's face. "Tryin' to free the elf witch. Well, can't say that ain't mad as a sack of terriers, but it takes stones to try and bust a castle with two men, that's for sure."

He put a hand on Pieter's shoulder, his mockingly amicable air instantly dissolving.

"Here's how it's goin' to go, Franz. You're goin' to show us this tunnel entrance, and there's not goin' to be any 'we' about it. Your job," he said, very deliberately, "is to keep quiet an' do what I say. Then maybe, if this works out, you won't hang, eh?" He grinned, flashing his yellow teeth. "'Course, it's not in my hands. That's just what I heard."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"Right now, getting hanged is the least of my worries." He glanced at the other Hounds. "This had better succeed, because there's only one try. If your men have to retreat... and believe me, that is a possibility... the tunnel will be collapsed by the time you bring reinforcements. Tell me when you're ready to follow me."

[Another_Poet]

Raffy and the Jets



“Gods, man,” he said, looking disbelievingly at Raffy. “What was it Klaus said? Don’t get caught?”

"I'm free, amn't I?" snarled Raffy, more harshly than he'd meant, reverting to his street kid slang under the stress of the situation.

He put out his torch as they got Illiiya laid out, not able to do much to help with his hand in its present condition.


“Shallya’s...” began Karl, trailing off. He glanced at Raffy’s hand, his eyes widening a little further. “You need a doctor,” he said, stepping back.

"I know," he said ruefully. "For now, get me some bandage. I have to get this wrapped up before Maria sees it...."

Her name stuck in his mouth. He felt like he must have let her down.

[LCP]

Pieter

“We ain’t followin’ you,” said the Hound, simply. “You’re comin’ with us. Best be clear on that, Franz.”

Looking up over Pieter’s shoulder, he whistled: five Hounds fell in around him and the initiate.
“My name’s Reinholdt, but I liked ‘sir’. You keep usin’ that, eh?” He looked around at his fellows. “This here is Franz, lads. He’s goin’ to be our guide.”

The militiamen looked intently at Pieter: he couldn’t help but get the feeling that something was up.

“So, Franz,” said Reinholdt. “Where do we start?”

[hr]

Raffy, Lothar, Ithelus & Illiiya

”Wrapped up? You’ll catch the rot,” said Karl, apprehensively. He looked Raffy in the eye. “We’ve got old Rasen back in the square. You need to get back there.” He glanced at Illiiya. “Her too.”

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Six men? Oh gods, is that all the Lector can spare for this?

Pieter's confidence dropped another notch, but he'd be damned if he let it show in front of the Hounds.

"It's not far," said Pieter. "Over there, under the bridge." He pointed at Gods' Row bridge with his chin.

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jaelrae

Illiiya came to with a blood-curdling scream... petering out into wheezing sobs and painful coughing. She was in a bad spot and not dealing with it with the stoic fearlessness she had held before the fire's began. Tears running from her eyes, she reached for the closet person to her and held to them frantically tight.

It hurts! She sobbed and wheezed pitifully, Please! P-please.... make it stop!

She clung onto Ithelus tightly, clearly not in much shape to do anything... as she sobbed and babbled about fire and pain.

[LCP]

Pieter

“Under the bridge,” repeated Reinholdt. He looked around at the others. “Right. Well, no time like the present, eh, Franz?”

One of the other Hounds had a coil of rope slung over his shoulder, another a shuttered lantern in his hand – all of them were armed, their usual polearms forsaken for whatever could be carried on a belt. Two of them fell into place on either side of Pieter, the seven of them heading towards Gods’ Row together: behind them, Hounds were beginning to troop out of the Tempelplatz, pouring westward through the snow-dappled streets...

A bevy of Marius’ men were standing guard on the Gods’ Row bridge, completely blocking it off to the everyday traffic of the city – there were ragged figures milling about on the other side of the river, but the Hounds did not give Pieter time to stop and look. Hurrying down the pitted stone steps by the side of the bridge, they spilled out onto the muddy snow of the river-bank: the edges of the Delb were trimmed with thin, jagged ice, only the strength of the river’s current preventing it from freezing over completely.

Beneath the western end of the bridge, Pieter could see what Lira had been talking about – a sewer outlet gaped like a yawning gullet in the stone wall of the embankment, the merest frozen trickle dangling from its round mouth. The interior was black as pitch, the sharp angle and the shadow of the bridge itself quickly cutting out all light – fumbling with gloved hands for a match, the Hound behind him lit their lantern, shining its beam into the shadows within.

“This it, then?” said Reinholdt, rubbing his hands against the cold as he stared into the dripping sewer. “You lead the way, mister Franz. I insist.”

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Pieter addressed the whole group: "Listen, I'm aware I'm just a prisoner. But my life's on the line too. I have no reason to mislead you, so you better listen to my advice because I'm the only one who knows this place. These tunnels are big enough to get lost. Whoever dug them, they outnumber us. So we're doing this as sneakily as possible, got it?" Or is that an utterly alien concept to you?

"Oh, one more thing... I'm trained in medicine, if anyone needs me. Believe me, it's in my best interest to keep you alive."

He stepped into the tunnel and advanced cautiously, wishing he did not wear these stupid manacles.

[LCP]

Pieter

"Gotcha, Franz. Quiet as mice, we'll be."

Reinholdt stretched out an arm to bar Pieter's path.

"But before we go in, you tell me - if you don't know who dug them tunnels, how do you know so much about how they 'outnumber us'? Far as I've heard, Sarge didn't find a livin' soul down there when we went lookin'."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"I'll say it again, the tunnels are huge," explained Pieter. "You won't believe just how huge until you see them. If this pipe leads to the tunnels, it means they extend under most of Delberz. It'd take dozens, working for years, to dig them."

He did not talk about the slaves: the Hounds would probably not believe him. Let them see the slave pens with their own eyes.

"And I'm not even counting the rats. I really don't want to meet them again, but I'm not sure there's any avoiding them." He shuddered at the memory. "Let's go, eh?"

[LCP]

Pieter

The Hounds behind Reinholdt shifted uneasily at the mention of the rats – saying nothing, they at least did not seem to dismiss Pieter’s words, the one with the lantern moving afterwards.

“Alright,” nodded Reinholdt. “Time’s a-wastin’.” Gesturing to the others, he led the way into the pipe, scanning his surroundings carefully before gesturing for Pieter to go ahead.

The sewer was long and dark – the beam of the lantern gleamed from walls slick with moisture, the ancient brickwork damp and crumbling. Here and there, cold water dripped from the ceiling, the steady plink, plink of the drips the only sound in the darkness – the water level at the bottom of the sewer’s curved floor was so shallow as to present no obstacle at all, but predictably, it stank.

As they made their way forwards, the lantern sweeping back and forth, Pieter tried to look for where this tunnel entrance might be – he could see nothing, however, only the slow arc of the sewer-way stretching back under the streets. For what seemed far too long, they pressed ahead – nothing greeted them, only mouldering bricks and darkness.

The lantern-beam jumped and wobbled as the Hound carrying gave a start – a rat skittered past them, looking up at Pieter with beady red eyes before scuttling away into the shadows ahead. Giving the lantern-bearer a brief glare, Reinholdt called a halt to the expedition, looking around.

“Where’s this thing meant to be, then, Franz?” he whispered hoarsely. “All we’ve seen is sewer and more stinkin’ sewer.”

The lantern’s beam swept up, scanning every inch of the sewer around them – it paused on the roof, showing a crazed web of hairline cracks running through the brickwork overhead.

“Look at that, muttered one of the militiamen. “That’ll be from the ol’ Temple blast,” whispered another. “We must be back under Tempelplatz. Under the Cathedral, maybe.”
“Shut your flapping mouths!” whispered Reinholdt, snatching the lantern from them. “We ain’t here to sight-see, we’re here to find these tunnels. Now where are they?”

“Hey!” hissed one of them, as the lantern’s light swung erratically over the tunnel ahead. “Look there!”

Frowing, Reinholdt raised the lantern – caught in its beam, Pieter and the others saw the writhing pink worm of a rat’s tail, seemingly vanishing into the solid wall of the sewer...

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Frowning, Pieter took a closer look at the wall and lightly poked it with the tip of his foot.

[LCP]

Pieter

Advancing to where the rat had vanished, Pieter realised there was a small chink in the wall, through which the animal had writhed. Stepping back, he looked the blotchy bricks up and down - the hole was at the bottom of a fine seam, almost invisible, that ran up through the wall to about head height. Then it turned ninety degrees to the left, then down again...

A secret door.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"Would you look at this," whispered the initiate, a joyless smile touching his lips.

He stepped aside to let the Hounds see the secret door.

"You lead the way, mister Reinholdt," he said wryly, jingling his manacles behind his back. "I insist."

[LCP]

Pieter

Reinholdt frowned, holding up the lantern at close range to the door.

"Right, lads," he said. "Let's have it open."

One of the Hounds stepped forwards, brandishing a crowbar - inserting it into the crack in the wall, he gave a sharp heave. A rectangular section of the sewer wall, large enough for a short man to stoop through, hinged open - on the other side, the means of its construction were evident, a solid framework of mouldering timber holding the bricks in place to appear just another part of the sewer. From the side that was meant to be seen, it was an ugly thing - but it had evidently taken some artifice to construct.

Raising the lantern ahead of them, Reinholdt stepped forwards, angling its beam straight into the yawning tunnel on the other side: it vanished into shadow, the rough-cut earthen walls of the passageway sloping steeply downward into the blackness. A solitary rat stared back at them, its eyes glittering with reflected lamplight.

Sucking his teeth, Reinholdt stepped back from the edge.

"You're the guide, Franz. You're goin' first."

He patted the sheathed falchion at his belt.

"Don't worry, lad," he said, insincerely. "We're right behind you."

OOC: Just a note: your hands are currently shackled in front of you, not behind your back.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

The initiate glared at the rat, but refrained from the urge of giving it a good kick. Gritting his teeth, he stepped through the door and advanced cautiously, his ears straining to catch the mysterious sound of machinery he had heard the last time.


OOC:

OOC: Just a note: your hands are currently shackled in front of you, not behind your back.
That's slightly better, I suppose.

Are we going north or south?

[Another_Poet]

Raffy & Co




”Wrapped up? You’ll catch the rot,” said Karl, apprehensively. He looked Raffy in the eye. “We’ve got old Rasen back in the square. You need to get back there.” He glanced at Illiiya. “Her too.”

An angry look broke across Raffy's face. "Yeah well until then I want some wrapping!" he hollered, shaking the useless hand in Karl's face.

Recovering slightly, he said more quietly, "When it's your hand, you call the shots."

When Illiiya came to with a scream, Raffy ran to her side, cradling her head under his good hand and putting aside--for now--his grudge toward Ithelus just beside him.

[Exeson]

Ithelus
Ithelus pushes Raffy away from Illiiya, 'You've done enough I think.' He says, not bothering to cover up the venom in his voice. 'Go and get someone else killed.'. Picking her up and cradling her like a baby he turns to Karl. 'Where is the Doctor?' hoping that people put the tears rolling down his cheeks down to the smoke.

[Another_Poet]

Raffy & Co


Raffy shakes his head at Ithelus. He gives the elf some room but doesn't leave Illiiya's side.

[goblinpaladin]

Folks

"The square, he said," grumbled Lothar. "And we better make it quick-like, too: burns infect fast." He touched the side of his face, then glanced down at Illiiya, concern creasing his features. "Wouldn't want scorched feet for all the beer in Mootland."

[LCP]

Not Pieter

Carrying Illiiya with them, they made their way back towards the square, Karl following a little way before hurrying back to the barricade – they were moving against the current, people flowing outwards from the centre towards the rising defences. There was a feverish excitement in the air – the thrill of authority defied mingled with the unspoken fear of reprisal, the sheer numbers of the crowds keeping the adrenalin pumping.

In the muddy square, the familiar well squatted like a round stone toad, its mouth boarded over – around it, a trio of barrels had been stacked, filled with all manner of scavenged weaponry. Men of the Society were standing over them, handing them out to the disorganised defenders as they flowed out towards the barricades. Raffy caught sight of Klaus, engaged in a heated discussion with a group of rough-looking men, something around half a dozen others simultaneously clamouring for the young man’s attention.

“Doctor Rasen?” shouted Lothar – no response came from the churning crowd, people hurrying past them with their mind fixed on other things. Stopping one of them dead, the soldier repeated his query – the callow youth he had halted pointed back across the square, to a house with its door standing open. Pushing their way through the human tide and out of the chill, they found themselves standing in what had once been some pauper’s house – the inhabitants’ possessions had been swept out of the way, a broad, empty table set up in the centre of the floor. A leather apron tied over his black gown, Doctor Rasen was setting up a row of instruments, cleaning and polishing their blades – he looked up in surprise as his four acquaintances entered.

“Oh!” he said. “Um. Hello.” He had a funnily guilty air, like a child caught out of bounds. “Seems I can’t get away from this place. Think I picked the wrong neighbourhood to be doing my rounds this morning.”
His weary attempt at humour dropped instantly as he caught sight of Illiiya and Raffy’s injuries.
“Dear gods, what happened to you this time?”

Behind them, there was a quiet mew – glancing round, Lothar saw Mr Cat jump lithely to the ground from the low roof of the porch. The ginger creature was looking up at Illiiya with eyes that seemed to imply it was highly concerned for the future of its free dinners...

[hr]

Pieter

Down, down, down. Deeper into the dark – surprisingly, it actually seemed to be warmer down here, away from the chill of the winter air. The walls were dank and rough, supported wooden beams that looked as if they had been festering in the damp for some time – whenever he stumbled, his hands came away black with silty mud.

Thump.

Thump.

There it was – the dull thudding, reverberating through the earth on the very edge of hearing. By the way they looked around, the Hounds evidently heard it too – they said nothing, remembering Pieter’s injunction to keep silent as they headed deeper into the bowels of the earth.

After what seemed an eternity of twisting, winding descent, the tunnel levelled out – the lantern lighting the way ahead, they forged onwards, seemingly alone on the subterranean highway. Sometimes, rats would scuttle out of their path – here and there, there were warrens in the walls, too narrow for anything but a rodent to pass through. Pieter didn’t like to think how such tiny tunnels might fan out – how they might wind up to the basement with the gnawed skirting-board, to Illiiya and Ithelus’ old lodgings, to every site of bloody murder that had spread across the city like a pox. Nevertheless, said a dark voice at the back of his head, they probably do.

The journey was long, the tunnel cutting straight ahead for a long distance through the dark: at length, they came to its end. Cutting the lantern’s light down to a gleam, they approached cautiously – up ahead was a T-junction, their own narrow passage opening into a wider tunnel.

Pieter advanced carefully to the junction, keeping close against the wall – the Hounds fell in line behind him. Suddenly, he recognised where he was – these were the tunnels beyond the mysterious door, beneath the Helstrum’s Ward well itself. The two tunnels he had seen leading off to the right, opposite the one that had led to the slaves’ pen – this was one of them...

OOC: Remember this map?

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/FOW-2.jpg

You are emerging from the lower tunnel of the two tunnels to the right of the central bit - the ones with the arrows saying "similar to the tunnel that went back before the door" (ignore the annotations - they're just from the last time you were here).

Also, you’re underground; you have no idea which way is North.

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar sighed heavily, bending down to the cat. "'S a long story, Doc. I imagine you'll hear the gist soon enough. Meantime, these're exciting new injuries- burns and a shattered hand."

He scratched Herr Cat behind the ears. "Who's a good cat, eh? Not at all inclined to go charging into a castle and get all your friends killed."

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"I know this place."

Pieter hesitated. His first goal had always been to rescue the slaves. But once they were freed, what should be done with them? They were weak, unarmed and undisciplined. On the other hand, they knew the tunnels better than anyone. If this was the sorcerer's lair, they might even know something of his abilities, his plans, the threat he posed. And if the whole thing failed... then at least they would not leave empty-handed.

He motioned for the Hounds to follow him towards the pens. His eyes were on the ground, looking for the tripwire, and his ears tried to catch the prisoners' whispers.


OOC: If it seems too quiet, I won't follow the tunnel all the way. It might be a trap.

[LCP]

Not Pieter

“Morr’s teeth,” said the doctor. “Well, you came at the right time,” he added, darkly. “I gather it might be getting rather busy in here shortly.”

“Well, get her up on the table,” he said, moving out of Ithelus’ way to look at Raffy’s hand. Doing his best to hold the bloody limb as gingerly as he could, he examined the wound with a suspicious expression. Strangely enough, he seemed to be sniffing.

“I’m... sorry, but you’re going to have to lose the hand,” he said slowly. “Whoever tied off the wound probably saved your life... but the hand itself is dead. It needs to be removed before the rot can poison your blood.”

By Lothar’s feet, Mr Cat meowed again, rubbing against the soldier’s shin as it looked up at him with wide hungry eyes.

[hr]

Pieter

”Hold it,” hissed Reinholdt, grasping Pieter by the shoulder to prevent him from moving. “Where are we? You know this place, you tell us.”

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"I got here from the well of Helstrum's Ward a few days ago. It's over there," he whispered, pointing left, "but the tunnel was collapsed since."

[LCP]

Pieter

"So you're sayin' we're under the Ward?"

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"I can't say where we are exactly. Probably not right under the Ward, but not too far from it."

His voice betrayed an edge of impatience. What did it matter?

[LCP]

Pieter

"Alright," muttered Reinholdt, nodding - he didn't seem to be talking to Pieter, strangely. Looking back, he jerked his head forwards - Pieter felt rough hands seize him, holding him in place.

"Goin' to have to tie you up, I'm afraid, Franz," said Reinholdt, still keeping his voice low. "Your little friends are wallin' 'emselves in topside, and if you're not lyin', this is right under their feet. Just need to find a way up for the other lads to follow."

He looked up and around the tunnel, scanning left and right as he took in the directions available.

"'Course, we know you got rebel sympathies, so you're stayin' here. But hey, you didn't actually believe we were here on your little wild goose chase, did you? Not when the peasants are revoltin'." He flashed a lopsided grin through the gloom. "No hard feelings, eh?"

The Hound with the coil of rope stepped forwards - with a sinking sensation, Pieter realised he was the reason they had brought it...

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"You damn fools," hissed Pieter, twisting in the Hounds' grasp. "I have no reason to mislead you. Don't you realize the danger we're all in? The sorcerer is down here, and he's not alone."

Shall I prove it right away?

[goblinpaladin]

Apparently oblivious to the Doctor's pronouncement upon Raffy's hand, Lothar made a show of patting his clothes before the cat, shaking his head. "Sorry, Mister Cat. I've not a scrap of meat on me. Why don't you hunt us up a nice juicy bit of rat-flesh, eh?"

Glancing at Rasen, the soldier crouched onto his haunches with the air of a co-conspirator. "You might get a bit of hand soon, eh?" He winked.

[LCP]

Pieter

"Right," sneered Reinholdt. "'He'."

With a lightning-fast movement, the man turned and punched Pieter hard in the stomach, the initiate doubling over with a winded gasp as the Hounds held him in place. Crouching down next to his victim, the leader of the Hounds spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Listen close, 'Franz'. We saw what the elf witch done. The Lector said she was guilty. If you think we're goin' to fall for your little game, 's time you were wakin' up."

He straightened up. "If that wench is still alive, 's only because of your heretic friends. I don't know what you lot were plannin' with this, but if it was anywhere near as much of a genius plan as breakin' into the castle to save the witch, you ought t'be thanking me for stopping you now."

Glancing at his companions, Reinholdt dusted off his hands, the Hounds closing in with ropes and a gag.

"Look on the bright side. You're helpin' put an end to your mates' treasonous little revolution." He shrugged. "Maybe you'll get a medal."

OOC: If you want to resist them/bring dice rolls into this, now's your last chance.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

The revolution is the least of your worries, Mr Punches-Prisoners-While-They're-Manacled, thought Pieter resentfully.

"You need proof, perhaps?" he wheezed as soon as he got his breath back. "Then listen." He turned to the slave pens. "Hey there," he called, not quite shouting. "Do you hear me? We're here to rescue you."

[LCP]

Pieter

There was a moment’s silence – then, from down the dark tunnel, a clamour of voices erupted, speaking over each other in a struggling babble of words.

Furrowing his brow, Reinholdt raised the lantern, stepping forwards.

“What in Sigmar’s name...” he muttered, trailing off – glancing uneasily back at the others, he nodded sharply at them. “Emil, Caspar, you hold onto Franz there. The rest of you... let’s see what this is about.”

Opening the lantern’s shutter a little wider, he began to advance towards the tunnel that led to the slave pens.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"The tripwire!" Pieter warned. "Watch out for the tripwire!"

His heart in his throat, he waited.

[LCP]

Pieter

Reinholdt stopped, frowning.

“Have him up,” he snapped, gesturing curtly to Caspar and Emil – pulling Pieter back to his feet, they brought him up to the front. Lifting the lantern again, Reinholdt motioned for Pieter to lead the way.

“Let’s be seeing this tripwire, then.”
It was still there, just as Pieter remembered it – stooping down, he gestured for Reinholdt to shine the lantern’s beam on the cord, the Hound’s expression clouding further as he saw it.
“What is this place?” he muttered, under his breath.

Up ahead, the slaves’ clamour had died down a little – picking their way carefully over the tripwire, the Hounds advanced towards the cages, pulling Pieter along with them. There as before were the gaunt, grimy faces, dirty hands reaching out through the rusted bars towards their saviours – Pieter could barely recognise a third of them, some of those he remembered vanished while new faces took their place. In the right-hand cell, however, the solitary woman still waited, gripping the bars of her prison with white-knuckled hands as she stared intensely at the newcomers.

An astonished oath spilled over Reinholdt’s lips – the other Hounds huddled back, trying to stay out of reach of the captives’ grasping hands. Some of the prisoners were weeping for joy, others crying out – only the woman stayed silent, staring straight at Pieter. In her eyes, there was none of the desperate hope the others shared.

“You came back,” she said, in a hollow monotone. “Is this all you brought?”
“He’s not in charge here,” cut in Reinholdt. “Who did this?”
Her flat expression did not change.
“You’re about to find out.” She looked back to Pieter. “They have good ears.”

Pieter’s ears pricked up as he heard a chink of metal behind them – Reinholdt evidently heard it too, whirling round to shine the lantern’s beam back down the narrow tunnel. Caught in the lamplight, monstrous shadows were rising up, crawling across the muddy walls as their source drew nearer. The Hounds drew back in fear, their hands going to their weapons as the slaves’ cries turned into wails of despair: over their voices, an inhuman sound began to rise, a rapid, high-pitched chittering that filled the dank subterranean air.

Stepping out across the tunnel mouth, a wall of dark figures blocked their escape: clad in tarnished, segmented armour the likes of which Pieter had never seen, they clutched brutal, serrated halberds in their gnarled hands. If they had stood straight, they might have loomed over the tallest of the Hounds – instead their bodies crouched forwards, the posture of a beast ready to bite.

Worm-like tails lashed, chisel incisors grinning through the gloom. Sleek, black fur gleamed in the lantern’s light as some kind of leader shouldered its way to the front, an incomprehensible, squeaking command chattering from its inhuman jaws.

Rats. Rats that walked as men...

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

Pieter's face turned ashen. Slowly, he drew back behind the Hounds' halberds until his back was to the pens.

Rats as like as men in size
Claws as sharp as twice-forged axes
Bloody hunger in their eyes

He took a deep breath and locked his fear away in a remote part of his mind. After a quick head count of the enemy, he cautiously reached into Reinholdt's pocket, searching for the key to his manacles. At this point he doubted the Hound would care even if he noticed.


OOC:
Sleight of Hand 32 (still at -5 Ag due to disease) vs Reinholdt's Perception.

Pieter [roll0], Reinholdt [roll1]
Pieter [roll2], Reinholdt [roll3]
Pieter [roll4], Reinholdt [roll5]

...crap.

[LCP]

Pieter

As Pieter fumbled in Reinholdt’s jacket pocket, the Hound seized his wrist, pulling his hand out.

“What is this, Franz?” he said, his voice trembling with fear. “You in this with them?”

Snarling at the humans’ incomprehension, the Skaven leader drew a serrated sabre from his side, pointing it at Reinholdt and Pieter.

“Man-things!” it squealed, in mangled Reikspiel. “Surrender weapons!”

“Over my dead body,” muttered Reinholdt, drawing his falchion from his belt – behind him, the other Hounds followed suit, unsheathing their own weapons in a rustling chorus of metal. Armour rattling, the monsters closed in, levelling the jagged blades of their glaives at the trapped humans – their leader grinned, sharp, yellow teeth flashing in the lantern’s light. Pieter could swear he heard its stomach growl...

OOC: The Skaven leader:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/TikricGougetooth.jpg

The others look similar, but are wielding halberds instead of a sword and shield, and don’t wear helmets. It’s hard to get a fix on their numbers due to the narrow width of the tunnel and the darkness, but there are at least eight, and probably more behind them.

Violence is clearly imminent: there is space behind the Hounds into which Pieter can retreat, although the only avenue of actual escape has been cut off by the Skaven. If you’re not planning to fight, I can resolve this as NPC-on-NPC pretty quickly; otherwise, it’s time to roll initiative.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter


“What is this, Franz?” he said, his voice trembling with fear. “You in this with them?”

"We're all in this together, but I can do nothing while manacled. Please give me that key, and maybe I can help... somehow." Or at least die a free man.

Fel 51: [roll0] (I'll Fortune Point it, I think.)

In spite of himself he admired Reinholdt's defiance... but fervently it would not get them all killed.


OOC:
What I do will depend on whether I can free myself.

Looks like I won't do much...

[LCP]

Pieter

Not taking his eyes off the creatures in front of him, Reinholdt fumbled in his pocket, producing the key and shoving it in Pieter's general direction.

"You stab us in the back, Franz, and I'll make sure I take you with me," he muttered, as the Skaven closed in...

OOC: If you plan to help out in any way, your next actions need to be in combat time: please include an initiative roll.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

"Thank you," said Pieter gratefully, unlocking his manacles.

He remained at the back. He had nothing to fight with... but maybe there was something he could do besides watching the Hounds get butchered.


Initiative: [roll0]

[LCP]

Pieter

With a chittering war-cry, the armoured beasts surged forwards – Reinholdt gave a cry of alarm as a serrated halberd-blade stabbed towards his gut, the man twisting out of the way just in time. Alongside him, the creature that had commanded them to surrender slammed into Caspar, its spiked shield slamming into the militiaman’s face: blood running from his nose, he staggered back in time for the monster’s jagged sword to rake across his chest, carving a gash fit for a butcher’s shop across his ribs.

The choke-point of the tunnel was preventing the Skaven from bringing their numbers to bear – but the creatures were already pushing the militiamen back, the Hounds’ lack of training beginning swiftly to show. The monsters had the advantage in reach, in equipment, in skill – Pieter was staring down the barrel of a massacre...

OOC: Big bucket of combat stuff – IC post will be edited in depending on the dice results.

The Fangleader: charge attack on a Hound.
[roll0] - hit
[roll1] - 6 wounds

A Stormvermin: charge attack on Reinholdt. Uses its halberd in the mode that makes it Fast (stabbing rather than swinging).
[roll2] - hit, thanks to charge attack bonus
Dodged (see OOC)
[roll3]

The rest of the Stormvermin pile in behind: the tunnel is too narrow to allow them to get into contact.

Map:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/SlaveWarren.png

Pieter goes before the Hounds, so it’s onto you now.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

The initiate remained at the back, ready to dart out of the way should any of the Skaven get through the Hounds' battle line. For now, there was strictly nothing he could do that was not either suicidal or pointless.


OOC:
Defensive stance.

What is the Hounds' career? If they're Militiamen, don't they have the Dodge Blow skill?

[LCP]

Pieter

On the front line, Reinholdt ducked out of the path of the Skaven's stabbing halberd once again. To his right, Caspar was not so lucky. Weighing his cutlass in his hand, the militiaman darted forwards - the blade buried itself in the Skaven leader's triangular shield and stuck, Caspar looking up for one moment into the black-furred killer's red eyes...

The spiked hilt of the creature's sabre smashed forwards, catching Caspar full in the face. Clutching at his mangled features, the man staggered back, blood running between his fingers - a curt backhand from the Skaven caught him across the thigh, practically cleaving his leg to the bone. The militiaman screamed, collapsing against the muddy wall of the tunnel as arterial blood pumped from the wound - Pieter watched in horror as the man raised his arms in a vain attempt to shield himself, blow after hacking blow raining down until all movement ceased.

Its sharp-angled armour now speckled with red, the creature turned to the Hounds standing behind where Caspar had fallen, their faces white with shock. A hungry grin slashed its muzzle, blood still dripping from its sword as it stepped over the man's cooling corpse with the others squealing and pushing behind it...

OOC: Map

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v700/LordChilipepa/SlaveWarren-1.png

So the combat situation is currently: Fangleader vs. two Hounds, Reinholdt vs. two Stormvermin.

[-Sentinel-]

Pieter

One down already. Pieter did not like these odds.


OOC:

Guess there's nothing I can do for poor Caspar, so I'll take another defensive stance. I suppose Caspar's weapons are out of reach now that the Skaven are pushing forward.

Sorry for the delay, someone had to borrow the computer.

[LCP]

Pieter

Stepping over Caspar's body, the Skaven leader waded into the melee, catching a stabbing blade on his shield as he slashed at the nearest of the humans with a powerful blow. The Hound managed to block the blow, staggering a little under the impact - another of his comrades lunged in, drawing a thin line of blood across the monster's arm through a chink in his mail sleeve. The rat-beast snarled, throwing the human off him with a horrid strength.

Behind him, the other Skaven were swarming forwards, encircling Reinholdt in an island of black fur and rusted metal. The Hound darted out of the path of one jabbing polearm, only for another to catch him in the shoulder - he cried out and stumbled back, the Skaven chattering excitedly as it twisted the weapon in the wound. Pulling its halberd free, it closed in for the kill.

OOC:Alrighty; disregarding the rolls I greyed out, the combat continues.

Round 3:

The Fangleader steps forwards (as seen on the map) and makes a Standard Attack on one of the adjacent Hounds (who are assumed to have Parrying Stances readied)

[roll0] - hit
[roll1] - parried
[roll2]

Another Stormvermin steps up to take his place, and teams up with his friend to attack Reinholdt (+10 outnumbering bonus)

Stormvermin 1: Feint, Standard Attack
[roll3] vs. [roll4] - Stormvermin beats Reinholdt
[roll5] - hit
[roll6] Negated by Feint
[roll7] - 7 wounds to the right arm

Stormvermin 2: Half Move, Standard Attack
[roll8] - miss
[roll9]
[roll10]

Reinholdt attacks back:
[roll11] - hit
[roll12] - dodged
[roll13]

The two Hounds on the Fangleader (+10 for Outnumbering):
[roll14] - hit
[roll15] - parried
[roll16]

[roll17] - hit
[roll18] - already used his parry (another copy/paste error here)
[roll19] - 2 wounds to the left arm

Any actions? Bear in mind, it's practically a logical certainty that all injuries will occur in melee combat with Skaven - getting in close enough to help anyone who's been injured will almost certainly require you shouldering your way to the front line.

[Another_Poet]

At the Doktor's


Lothar has found the weak spot in Raffy's armour, combining a callousness for the youth's loss with completely depriving him of the attention he thrives on. Raffy hadn't really believed the doctor would have any better news for him, but he'd held out hope, and hearing the pronouncement and then the complete uncaring let him.... cracked.

He slumped down and covered his face with his good hand. He didn't audibly weep, but if his eyes weren't watering it was because he strained all of his willpower to stop them. He shut out the world for a moment and concentrated on pulling himself together.

Breathing deeply a few times, he uncovered his eyes and surveyed the pauper house. "Take care of Illiiya first," he said.

He went over to the front door and closed it. He watched Lothar play with the cat and the doctor set to Illiiya's dressings. Once there is a quiet moment, he says in a low voice:

"Maria and Klaus want me to be a symbol of the revolution."

His eyes turn to Ithelus and Lothar. "I know you think that's silly. I don't deserve it anyway, after last night. But they think the people are inspired to see me stand up to the Lector and the Witch Hunter."

He sighs. "If you cut off my hand, Doctor, you need to give me something to put on it, and wrap it in bandages like it's going to heal up. No one can know it was cut off till after the fighting's over."

He glances around the room. "Otherwise I have to keep it."

He waits to see if the others will keep a secret for a few days.

[goblinpaladin]

Lothar shrugged. "No skin off my nose, lad. But unless you want to lose t'other hand, you might want to stop thumbing your nose at Sigmar's Own." He petted the cat again, then stood, stretching out exhausted muscles.

"O' course, the boy maimed by the Lector's men is a symbol all it's own, if you're still plannin' on helping this rebellion." The soldier's voice hardened. "Me, I plan on finding this sodding sorcerer. I think the sewers may be our next best bet for that- you can lead unarmed commoners to their deaths if you want. I have work to do."

[LCP]

Not Pieter

Rasen glanced dubiously at Raffy.

"I can't make a stump look like it's going to 'heal up', I'm afraid," he said. "If you want to put it off, that's your funeral - but it's not as if people are going to think that's a working hand just because it's still attached."

He turned back to Illiiya, stooping down to examine the elf's feet more closely.

"In any case, I'm afraid I didn't think to bring my supply of fake hands," he said, with a slight edge of sarcasm. "If you think that's what the Society want, though - well, many of the people here have lost more than a hand. I'm not sure they'll care as much as you think they willl."

Rummaging in his bag, he produced a bag of pale green, chalky paste, beginning to apply it to Illiiya's feet - the elf winced whenever the doctor's fingers touched her skin, holding on tightly to Ithelus.

"I mean, it's not as if the lady's even here," he said, half to himself. "Gods know where she's gallivanted off to this time..."

[Another_Poet]

Raffy &c


"She's around," replies Raffy, and immediately regrets saying it.

"The--stump--" he chokes on the word "--doesn't have to look good. We'll just put something in there about the size of a hand, and wrap bandages over it. It'll look like it was just injured and healing up."

His nervousness betrays his lack of confidence in the ploy.

[LCP]

Raffy & co.

The doctor looked Raffy up and down.

"If you insist," he said, quietly. He glanced back at Lothar and Ithelus. "I'll need a volunteer to help hold him still."

[BloodyAngel]

Illiiya Jalrae

M-maria? Illiiya said weakly, making an effort to look over, but wincing in pain from the smallest movement and just clenching Ithelus' hand tight. Does the... damn... revolution really matter now? Does it?!

She slumped back to the table, pained tears running down her face.

I don't care anymore... She all but sobbed, You humans are animals. J-just... kill each other. Nnnh... It hurts...

[goblinpaladin]

Not Pieter

Lothar grunted. "Listen to the elf. She's wise." He stretched again, nodding to the Doctor. "I'll hold him. 'Snot pleasant, but needs doing."

He touched Illiiya on the shoulder as he came nearer Rasen, rolling up his sleeves. "Don't give up on us yet, Illiiya. I'm with you on this, and I'll bet the doctor here doesn't want any more bloodshed."